#cause she's never super open with strangers

[starsweeperskies]

Got two dnd ships on the brain and yet...im the only one to create the Contents because the dm's not one to write fic while he's running campaigns, and no one else has the brainrot.

And im too tired to draw or write. So brainrot. So much brainrot.

But mah babies.

[wandamaximoffsbadgirl]

Beautiful Stranger

I've Never Recognized a Purer Face (1)

Mommy!Wanda Maximoff x Beefy!Fem!Reader

Summary: You've just moved to West View for collage with your parents and your neighbor has caught your attention.

Word Count: 2K

Warnings: 18+, MDNI, R masturbates

A/N: This is an old piece I reworked a bit so here you go until my brain can focus on the prompt requests!

June 14, 2023

You had recently moved to West View, New Jersey with your parents. You'd be starting college here in the Fall along with your dad starting a new job in a week.

The hot summer air made you sweat even in your tank top and shorts, your tattooed body being shown off almost completely. Trying to get everything inside as quickly as possible was proving to be ineffective as you took a moment to collapse under the tree in your front yard, finding solace in the shade. “Gods it's too hot for this.” You grumbled out.

“Can I interest you in some lemonade?” You heard an unfamiliar, feminine voice ask from just above me as you opened your eyes. Your mouth drying up instantly at the sight of the beauty before you. Red hair flowing in waves over her shoulders, green eye like emeralds, her skin splashed with freckles not unlike your own face.

“H-hi…” You somehow managed out.

“Hi there I'm your neighbor, Wanda, Wanda Maximoff.” She pointed behind her at her house which looked identical to your house from the outside.

“I'm Y/N…Y/N Y/L/N.” Luckily your mother came over to save me from your awkwardness.

“Oh hello! I'm Y/M/N Y/L/N and my husband over there is Y/F/N Y/L/N. I see you've already met our Y/N/N.” You groaned, throwing yourself back down. “We just moved in for our little Y/N/N to go to collage and my husband to start a new job.” Your mother gushed.

“Ma please stop. I'm sure Wanda doesn't care about why we moved here.”

“Oh, but sweetie I do. I love the nick name by the way. Y/N/N.” The way it rolled off her tongue and her accent? Fuck it sent a shiver through you like it was the middle of December.

“Please just Y/N is fine.” You begged slightly not knowing if you could handle her using your name like that. “I'm going to go help dad. It was nice meeting you Wanda.” You told the older woman before leaving her with your mom for them to talk. Wanda was about your mom's age so probably twenty years older than me.

“Mom!”

“Mom!” You heard two different boys call at the same time as You came out of the moving van, the boys running up to Wanda. “We're going to go play with the Barton kids is that okay?” One of them asked.

“Of course boys. Go on and be back before the streetlights come on.” Wanda gave each of them a kiss on the forehead. When she leaned back up her eyes met yours. You felt your face flush at the thought of a kiss from the older woman before retreating into the house. The central air cooling you down.

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July 2,2023

There was a knock at the front door causing you to pause your game on your switch, getting up from the couch. Upon opening the door you were met with Wanda.

“Hi Y/N I know this is super last minute, but my babysitter canceled. Could you watch the boys?” Wanda asked desperately.

“Oh yeah sure of course I can.” You grabbed your keys and phone, following Wanda, totally not staring at her ass the whole time.

“Okay so here is $40 for dinner. Get them whatever they want it'll probably be pizza which the menu is on the fridge for their favorite place. Bedtime is 8pm. Billy is a little sensitive so if he isn't enthusiastic it's not you I promise. Tommy will probably try to pester you, don't let him. Oh and if I'm not back early and you get tired you can sleep in my bed. I'll wake you when I get home. Thank you for this I really appreciate it. Boys! Y/N from next door will be watching you tonight! Please behave for her!” Wanda called the boys barreling down the stairs and past you she gave each a kiss, “Be good you two. I love you.” She told them as they ran back off upstairs and it seems without much thought she kissed your cheek before leaving. Leaving you there with your face burning.

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You were scrolling through your phone, noticing it was past midnight. You didn't think Wanda would be gone this long. You didn't even ask what she was up to this evening? You got up from the couch, putting away the remaining pizza before quietly making your way upstairs. You checked on the boys who were fast asleep. Their sleeping faces made you smile as you quietly closed the door and found Wanda's room. As soon as you opened the door Wanda's scent of jasmine and sage overpowering you and sending a shot straight through your core. Closing the door behind you, swallowing hard as you sat on the bed; it is so soft. You lay down, your head on Wanda's pillow as her scent completely overtakes you and you can't help, but move your fingers between your legs, rubbing your clit furiously as you were completely wrapped up in Wanda. Moaning softly against her pillow as you came to the thought of her. You pulled your hand out, breathing heavily as you sucked your own fingers clean. You were in so deep and You knew it. It's not fair though Wanda didn't look like she was almost 40 she still looked like she was in her 20s and didn't have twin 5 year old boys.

You groaned against her pillow in frustration as You buried your face into it, getting under her duvet making it feel like Wanda was holding you and soon enough you fell asleep.

“Hey, sweet girl, come on wake up pretty girl.” You heard a gentle voice call.

“Mmm?” You turned to look over your shoulder, it was Wanda. “What time is it?” You asked sleep heavy in your voice.

“Really late sweet girl. You can stay if you want. I don't mind, I just ask that you move to the other side so I can sleep here on my pillows.” Wanda's voice was soft and she moved your hair out of your face.

You grumbled a bit, but moved over to the other set of pillows. You did move them ever so slightly to be closer as you turned to face her side of the bed as she settled in.

“Good night sweet girl. Thank you for everything.” You felt Wanda lean over once again placing a kiss on your cheek.

“Mmm s’ no problem…” You mumbled falling back to sleep almost instantly as her presence soothed you knowing she was home and safe now.

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You woke up in her bed, sitting up you rubbed your eyes as you heard a door open. Looking up to see Wanda through blurry eyes as you reached for your glasses on her side table.

“Good morning sweet girl. Did you sleep well?” Her unblurred form came into view, her hair was only slightly damp, a pair of dark gray, flared dress pants, a tucked in cream colored button down that she purposefully left the top ones unbuttoned to show her amazing cleavage off. She was currently grabbing a hair clip to get her hair up which once she did looked amazingly effortlessly beautiful.

“Good.” You manage as your breath hitches remembering what you did in this bed last night.

“Well you certainly don't have to stay, but I am making breakfast. Pancakes.” Wanda wiggled her eyebrows at me making me laugh.

“Can you make chocolate chip pancakes?” You ask shyly.

“For you? Yes. Come on.” She started making her way out and you followed, grabbing your phone.

The boys were already downstairs watching cartoons, Wanda giving them each a kiss on the top of the head.

“Why is Y/N still here?” Tommy asked, noticing me as You went to sit at the kitchen island.

“I told her she could stay the night because of how late I'd be getting back, is that okay with you little man?” Wanda asked and he shrugged.

“I guess. She's better than dad.” Tommy off-handedly states catching both Wanda and you off guard.

“Excuse me?” Wanda's voice is stern suddenly and it feels like You shouldn't be here.

“I'm just saying that I like her better.” Tommy spent one night hanging around you and is now stating he likes you better than the father you didn't even consider they probably have somewhere.

“Thomas Oleg Maximoff. I know things aren't the best with your father right now, but that isn't nice.” Wanda is stern with her son in this moment who recoils slightly.

“I'm sorry mom…” he says with his head down.

“I know you're having a lot of big feelings about everything going on between your father and I right now, but he's still your father.” Wanda's voice softens a bit. You hadn't really seen it other than in exaggerated tiktoks, but Wanda seems to have the gentle parent style, much unlike your parents who had a very authoritative style. The two hug it out before Wanda joins you in the kitchen.

She silently moves about the kitchen as she grabs things and when it comes to chocolate chips she has bags just about every kind you can think of.

“Which kind do you want sweet girl?” Wanda asks and you feel overwhelmed at first. You decided to do a triple chip of milk, white, and peanut butter chips. “I see you have a big sweet tooth.” She comments.

“Yeah. I always have. I used to get cavities a lot as a kid cause I didn't brush properly, but I got better as I got older.” You told her, grabbing a handful of chips which she smacked your hand playfully. You laughed and took another, sticking your tongue out.

“Oh naughty girl.” She teased and you felt a heat inside again as you shifted in your seat, trying to alleviate it slightly. You saw Wanda flick her eyes at you, before going back to her pancakes. Had she noticed? Surely she hadn't.

“Boys! Breakfast!” Wanda had gotten out a whole plethora of goodies it felt more like we were having dessert. Syrup, butter, whip cream, peanut butter, chocolate sauce. You'd never seen so much effort go into something like this.

You all moved to the dinning table as the boys dug into their stacks covering their pancakes in syrup until they were drowning.

Wanda grabbed coffee for the two of you and milk for the boys.

“Thank you.” You smiled taking a sip and revealed in the warmth it provided you.

“Of course sweet girl. Now tell me. You're starting college in a month right?” Wanda asked and you nodded as you ripped up your pancake, taking a bite.

“Yes. I took a few years off. Was only supposed to be a year then one thing led to another and it turned into three years.” You explained.

“So you're twenty?” You shook your head.

“Sorry I should explain I was taking a gap year from college after I had to deal with some personal things. I left college when I was twenty, planning to go back in a year, but now I'm twenty-three.” Wanda nodded her head.

“What will you be majoring in?”

“Well originally I was doing psychology. I wanted to go into children's psych, but realized it was a lot of work that I personally couldn't keep up with. Then I was thinking about history, but then I'd have to double major into teaching to do anything meaningful with it, so now I'm going for cyber security.” You smiled, finally explaining your weird college timeline. Wanda laughed a bit.

“You've certainly had an interesting ride, pretty girl.” Wanda leaned on the table and you didn't miss the look Tommy was throwing between his mother and you.

“Yeah I'm just happy to get back on track. The cyber security program teaches from the bottom up and I can get some pretty good offers through the college and freelancing is always an option. I'm already good at programming so maybe I can make my own security program.”

“I'm sure you can do anything you set your mind to pretty girl.” You smile and blush, bashful, at her compliments. You stare down at your mostly finished pancakes.

“Thank you…”

[moviecritc]

hii ! i was wondering if i could request a fanfic about Max verstappen and y/n —or you can give her a name UR CHOICE :) — anyways could you possibly follow the lines of them being complete strangers meeting in the Mexico GP, to becoming friends, then later on being lovers.

I’m not sure if you like to write sad stories but could you also possibly make a sad ending where towards the end they break up and whenever they are around eachother they act like complete strangers

Hopefully you take my request :) it was mainly inspired by a song called “strange” by Celeste !

Thank youuu !!

fortnight ⋆ max verstappen

pairing: max verstappen x reporter!reader

word count: 2.7K

warnings: bad boyfriend behaviour, angst (sort of)

a/n: it took me so long finishing this, and im not fully convinced with the result :( i also changed things a bit. anyways i loved the whole vibe, so maybe i write something similar soon

also this ended up giving massive fortnight by t swift vibes so i named it bc of that

masterlist | wattpad | letterboxd

They were made for each other, or at least that's what everyone said. They had their first encounter at the Mexican Grand Prix. Y/N had been working as a reporter and interviewer for the races all season, but she had never had the chance to interview Max.

Mexico must have been one of Y/N's favorite places, all the culture, food, and people made her feel very welcomed. The race week in Mexico was the one she felt most nostalgic about once the season was over.

She arrived at the airport on Tuesday or Wednesday, she didn't quite remember, the only thing she remembered about her arrival in Mexico was the jet lag and that instead of grabbing her suitcase, she took Max Verstappen's.

She had always felt a certain intimidation towards him, by his way of driving and treating his teammates on the track. So, she was terrified to have to contact him. Surprisingly, it was Max who contacted her.

He called a few hours after she arrived at the hotel, she still wondered how he got her phone number and her name.

"Y/N L/N?" he asked. She recognized the voice and took a few seconds to process it. "I'm Max. I think I have your suitcase."

"Hello, yes. Uh, I think I have your suitcase too," She scratched her neck a bit.

"Ah, fantastic. Are you free now to exchange them?"

"Sure, yeah. Where?"

"I can come to your hotel, I don't want to cause you too much trouble," Max commented in a calm tone. That seemed like a super sweet gesture coming from him.

"Alright, I'll send you the location, come whenever you can," And they hung up.

Y/N was quite impressed by how nice Max had been, and that it was him who contacted her and offered to go to the hotel, even though she was the one who took the wrong suitcase.

Literally five minutes later they called her room phone, telling her that someone was asking for her. She went down with the suitcase immediately, meeting the pilot and his suitcase.

Max waved his hand a bit so she would know it was him, although Y/N knew perfectly well who he was. Max observed her, she had brown hair with lighter tips than the rest of her hair, probably from dyeing it in the past, and quite long curtain bangs. Somehow her face looked familiar to him, as if he had seen her before, but at the same time not.

"Hey, here you go," Y/N handed him the suitcase and they made the exchange. "I'm really sorry for the trouble, really, I didn't even realize it wasn't my suitcase,"

"It's okay, don't worry. Did you open the suitcase?" He slightly bit his lip.

"Well, yes. But I only saw the eight or nine Red Bull shirts, I realized it wasn't my suitcase," she said, smiling.

That made Max laugh. "Are you here for the race?"

"Well, yes, I'm a reporter for DAZN," Y/N nodded.

Max raised his chin a bit, understanding why the brunette looked so familiar. He looked around and then at his watch. "Are you busy now?"

Y/N blinked, was he…?

"No, not now," she pressed her lips, trying to hide a smile.

"Can I invite you for a coffee?" he smiled shyly.

"Oh," Y/N pondered for a few seconds what to tell him.

"If not, don't worry," Max spoke. Maybe she had been thinking about the answer for too long.

"No, of course. I'd love to,"

Was it a strange start? Yes. But only that afternoon they connected in such a strange way that it scared them. Y/N had two Siamese cats, Max had two Bengal cats. He spent hours on the sim, she could spend hours watching the same series, which wasn’t exactly the same, but close. They both supported FC Barcelona and the most surprising thing was that she had been on exchange in the Netherlands, at the same school Max was attending. The only thing was that he barely went to classes because he was going from championship to championship.

That afternoon it felt as if someone had made them meet, because it was too much of a coincidence to find someone so similar to you because of one suitcase.

"Will I see you in the paddock tomorrow?" Max asked, as they were saying goodbye.

"I hope so,"

"Stop by the Red Bull garage if you have time,"

Y/N nodded and bit her lip, still unable to believe the instant connection she had with Max. She even forgot she had terrible jet lag. At no point did she consider that this could end badly.

…

At the Brazil Grand Prix, they were already sharing a hotel room. Nobody knew yet that they were together so they could come and go as they pleased. Y/N was still a reporter for DAZN, although now that she spent so much time with Max her reports started to be shorter and with fewer details. She barely paid attention to the races, she stayed near the Red Bull garage, trying to see him when he entered the pits.

By that time, Y/N realized that maybe she was spending too much time with Max. In just those two weeks, Max had been pivoting between the sim and the hotel bed. At first, he said nice things to her and stayed with her for a while, asking her what she had been doing or what movie she was going to watch now. But the last time, he dressed immediately and went back to the sim.

Y/N even remembered how well they had connected and how comfortable she had felt, although it had only been fourteen days ago. She didn't even think about confronting him, after all, they were nothing, they never were.

Why? A serious relationship would only take up time that he could use for much more productive things for his career. That was better, even if it made the brunette feel as if he only wanted to satisfy himself with her.

"Max, it's late and I'm hungry, what if we go out for dinner?" Y/N entered her room where he had all the set up, it was the first time she saw it and she thought it was crazy that Max had all those screens, all those gadgets just to pretend to drive.

"I can't now, schat," he said, moving his hand a bit to try to make physical contact with her, but he didn't manage to because he didn't take his eyes off the screen.

"Well, remember we have the flight to Las Vegas tomorrow at noon. Come to bed soon," Y/N commented, looking at his crown.

She fell asleep before feeling Max's weight on the bed.

She didn't know why, but she really thought that in Vegas something would change, maybe because of the atmosphere or because it was the last races, maybe he would be slightly more relaxed now that he had practically won the championship. She even thought they would enter the paddock together, that she would have a fixed spot in the Red Bull garage or something, but a minimum of recognition from him towards her.

But it was quite the opposite. Max didn't show up in the paddock until Thursday afternoon while she had to be there since Tuesday. He made her take the plane alone and he didn't even text her when he landed. She had to find out he was already in Las Vegas when she saw him passing by her in the paddock and Y/N made a gesture to greet him, smile at him or make a simple gesture, but Max passed by without even looking at her.

That's when she realized she would have to confront him. He was behaving like a complete jerk, and Y/N was sure she wasn't the first woman who got fed up with him for that.

With a couple of calls and several messages, she managed to find out the hotel and the room where Max was staying. After a day full of interviews, Y/N went straight to the hotel address, knocking on his door.

"Hey, hello," he said, already in his pajamas and with a tired look. "I was thinking about you."

"Oh, me too," Seeing Max's hand on her waist, Y/N pulled away from him immediately.

Max raised his eyebrows at once, surprised by the abruptness of the brunette. "Are you alright?"

Y/N lowered her gaze slightly, choosing her words. Suddenly she was more than nervous to say something. "What… what are we?"

"In what sense?" he asked cautiously. He thought it was too soon for that conversation.

"What sense is it going to be?" she approached, realizing that Max probably was just a man like the rest, who had an unjustified fear of naming relationships.

"Uh," he said. Y/N blinked, waiting for a more complete sentence. "Do you want to make it public or something?"

Y/N ignored the 'or something', sticking only to the first words. She smiled a little, getting closer to Max.

"Is that what you want?" He asked again, putting his hands on her waist now that she let him.

"I would like that, yes," she nodded, before Max gave her a quick kiss. "You've been leaving me hanging for a few days."

"Schat, you know I have to train and prepare for the races," Max insisted, sliding his hands much lower than her waist.

Y/N was going to say something, but Max caught her lips and didn't let go until he felt satisfied.

On Friday they arrived together at the paddock, attracting attention from the media. They didn't talk much, she was afraid they would read her lips.

Y/N had to go with her team to interview the Ferrari team and they kissed in front of a couple of cameras as a goodbye. The image went viral in minutes. After finishing the interviews, she received a couple of comments from people around the paddock about how lucky Max was to have found her.

Y/N couldn't understand how he was the lucky one. After all, she was the one with the Formula 1 star pilot. She got on Twitter, seeing how several users commented on how amazing she was, how she had managed to make a name for herself in motorsport, how sweet and funny people found her, Y/N would never in her life use "funny" as an adjective to describe herself. And the best part, that Max should feel more than lucky to have her. That they made a practically perfect couple, that they coordinated super well. Just a few steps in the paddock had made them the couple of the moment. The example to follow.

Max won that race and jumped into her arms when he got out of the car, giving her a strong wet kiss in a very unsexy way. That totally took Y/N by surprise, she couldn't believe his first thought after winning was her. Who knows which of his PR team told him to do that.

"I'll see you in a few hours, wait for me in the hotel room," Max told her, kissing her cheek.

"Max, I also work here. I have to do interviews," she reminded him, with a somewhat serious look.

"Ah, alright,"

"Let me know when you're done," Y/N turned without saying or doing anything else.

She worked until late at night without being able to get out of her head that she and Max had progressed so much in the relationship that they had skipped all the really good parts, the honeymoon phase. And this time it had been her fault, it had been her idea to make it public maybe too soon.

She arrived at Max's room, which was dimly lit and cold. She took a long shower, still wondering what she should do now that their relationship wasn't working out at all.

When she came out of the shower, with wet hair and pajamas on, she found Max lying on the bed, sliding his finger over the screen of his cell phone.

"The shower is free now, were you waiting for long?" Y/N spoke, tilting her head slightly.

"I'm already showered, I was waiting for you," Max admitted with a sweet look.

"Oh," she said. "You didn't have to, I'm sure you're tired,"

Y/N walked cautiously to the free side of the bed, because they hadn't even talked about their sides of the bed. Max got up and changed his clothes, Y/N remembered how good shape Max was in and how good he was in bed as he was with the car. She discreetly bit her lip.

"I wanted to talk to you, actually," Max mentioned as he sat down next to her, giving Y/N goosebumps. "Did you see that people adore us?" Max hugged her by the shoulders, pulling her closer to him.

Y/N let out a sustained thread of air in her lungs and smiled. "Yes," It seemed strange to Max that that was the only thing that came out of Y/N's mouth. "Is that a good thing, isn't it?" he asked, now somewhat confused. "Of course, someone should."

Max blinked, now separating from her body so he could see her well. "What do you mean by that?"

"Since we don't adore each other," she mentioned, as if by chance.

"What do you mean by that?" Max asked, having no idea what Y/N was saying.

She sighed, shaking her head slightly. She wondered how someone couldn't realize something so simple.

"Forget it, Max," she fixed, getting comfortable in bed. "I'm tired."

"Wait, let's talk," he insisted, getting closer to her, with a worried look.

Y/N clicked her tongue, sitting up on the pillow. "Do you like me?"

"Of course, you're beautiful and attentive and intelligent. Why wouldn't I like you?"

That made her heart shrink a bit. "But do you see me as something lasting?"

Max thought about his answer. No. "I don't know,"

That was enough for Y/N to know the real answer, she clicked her tongue and moved slightly away from him.

"Y/N, you have to understand that I have a complicated job and…"

"For God's sake, Max, we both work in the same field. If you want to blame the distance or something like that, it won't work," Y/N denied, biting her cheek with anger.

Max pressed his lips, trying to hide that that was exactly what he was going to do.

"I think I better leave," Y/N commented, pulling the sheets.

Max saw all her movements, from when she got up until she picked up her things and left through the door. Y/N still somehow hoped he would say something, but Max didn't even move. He simply waited for her to leave so he could lie down and go to sleep.

Y/N didn't cry, she didn't even consider it. It had been a short time and there was no need to waste time thinking about what could have happened. For God's sake, she didn't even know if it had been a real relationship.

It had started perfectly but had been declining just a few days after they met.

In the last Grand Prix, Y/N was with her team most of the time, writing columns for DAZN's website report and preparing questions for her colleagues' interviews.

"Y/N, here are the questions for Max's interviews," her colleague said.

"Huh?"

"Everyone wants you to interview Max, for obvious reasons," he nodded, as if it were totally normal.

"I don't think it's a good idea," Y/N mentioned, making a face.

"Y/N, he and everyone else are waiting for the interview," he insisted, nodding his head behind his back. Y/N turned discreetly, observing Max leaning against a wall, trying so hard not to look at her.

"Fuck," she muttered with a soft frown. "Ok, let's do this quick,"

She standed up with a bored and sick stare, there was Red Bull's engineers everywhere and even people taking pictures of her.

"Hey," he greeted her as she approached.

"Let's get this over with quickly, okay?" she nodded.

"Try not to be too harsh, people still think we're together," Max commented.

Y/N's gaze hardened. "I'll do whatever I want, Max," she clenched her jaw and gave the cameraman a nod to start broadcasting the interview.

[kj-yikes]

26. Aura

(on ao3 here)

Lena Luthor didn't know she was a witch until the fateful day that her brother turned the sun red.

She doesn't have a full explanation for why her powers reappeared, but this is her theory: as a child, Lena remembers Lillian's scolding for talking about memories and experiences she didn't then understand, about how people all have a glow about them and that Lena could read their minds. Of course, that wasn't entirely true — Lena can't read minds, she can only read emotions, which is almost like mind-reading if someone is quite open with their feelings.

Lena thinks Lillian figured it out when she was a child, or knew about her mother, and supressed her magic somehow. That's what her mother's friend Florence had theorized when Lena made the pilgrimage back to her mother's hometown earlier this year.

Florence told Lena that magic could go dormant, could hide away if not properly nurtured. However, when Lena's life was threatened, when she watched Lex cause chaos throughout Metropolis, her powers had come rushing back all at once. Using her powers, she was able to read Lex and manipulate him, enough to buy herself enough time to escape and call the police.

Simply put, her powers had come back to her when she needed them most, and now that the floodgates had opened, even scientific, methodical Lena Luthor couldn't deny what they were: magic.

For most of the past year since her magic came back, it didn't interfere much with her daily life as much as the chaos within her family did. Lex was arrested, Lillian left town, and Lena took over LuthorCorp.

Eventually, the stress got to be too much, though. Every day, she walked into the LuthorCorp office and remembered the red hue of the sun and the angry, fiery flames erupting from Lex's aura. She remembered how the flood of emotion almost made her lose control. She remembered the feeling of madness emanating from Lex as he was cuffed and escorted from the building. She remembered each name of the people Lex had killed.

So, Lena came up with a plan. She drew up business proposals for new technology that could help the world and presented them to the newly hired director of R&D. She worked with marketing to come up with a new image for the company. Finally, she made plans to move the newly-minted L-Corp to National City, a place where she could start over, where she could hopefully work alongside a super rather than against her.

With the organized chaos of her job, Lena's powers had become a backburner issue. She could still vaguely see people's auras, but they blended in to their being in a way that Lena couldn't parse without dedicated practice, and Lena put it aside in favor of launching her new life in National City.

Until one morning, when Kara Danvers stepped into her office.

Lena's powers had only worked well on people she knows — her brother, Sam, Jack, even her assistant Jess. She's never been able to read a stranger's aura so clearly.

But there Kara stands, bathed in a bright pink glow as she listens to Lena talk. It fills Lena with the same jittery warmth that Kara must be experiencing and makes her stomach do a pleasant flip-flop.

Kara Danvers is gorgeous in a quiet, unassuming way. She fidgets with her glasses, wrapped in a pretty pink pastel cardigan, blonde locks flowing down her shoulders. She's endearingly awkward, a stark contrast from charming and collected Clark Kent, but she doesn't seem deterred by Lena's shortness and bluntness. Lena feels Kara's blue eyes on her and her heart gives a little flutter.

Lena's not quite sure if her reaction to meeting Kara Danvers is her own, or Kara's emotions seeping into her. It's a strange reaction to meeting a Luthor, to be sure. Though Lena can't generally read strangers' auras, she also has a knack for reading people's body language, and most people are not keen on meeting Lena Luthor.

Kara, on the other hand, studies her like she's trying to admire a complex work of art — critical yet admiring. If Lena could hear Kara's heartbeat, she expects it would be beating as fast as hers is now.

Lena looks directly at Kara when she says, "I'm just a woman trying to make a name for herself outside her family. Can't you understand that?"

Suddenly, Kara's aura morphs from that warm, fuzzy pink to a multifaceted, deep blue, almost as blue as Kara's eyes. Something shifts in Kara's face, as if a veil has been lifted on Lena and she's seeing her in new light. Lena squirms slightly in her office chair, feeling exposed.

The corners of Kara's mouth turn slightly upward as she nods, and it feels like sunshine warming Lena's soul. "Yeah. I can."

Kara's aura is like a magnet, dragging Lena along as she's filled with a flurry of emotion: curiosity, attraction, pain, anguish, understanding, and finally… hope. It rushes through Lena's body, spreads from the tips of her fingertips and down through her chest. She schools herself from the flood of emotion, keeping her face in a practiced neutral expression as she escorts Kara and Clark out of her office.

As she shuts the door behind them, Lena leans her forehead against the door and takes a deep breath, eyes closed. In her short time with her powers, she's never experienced anything like this before. It had taken her months of practice with Sam, with Jack, two people she loves and knows intimately, to even begin to understand her powers, to be able to somewhat-accurately interpret the colors and the emotions and the feelings.

What makes not-a-reporter Kara Danvers different? Why can Lena already read her like an open book? Why is her aura so strong, so bright, so…alluring?

The questions stay with her as she goes about her work that day and follow her as she boards a helicopter for a meeting up north in the bay area with some investors.

Lena hates flying, so of course something goes wrong, and that something is two drones facing them down.

Lena's eyes widen in panic as she sees bullets fly from the drones and hit the glass windshield of the helicopter. Before Lena even has time to pull out her phone and call for help, two blue blurs streak through the sky and place themselves between the helicopter and the drones.

And that's when Lena sees it again — the bright aura surrounding Supergirl. Lena wonders momentarily if maybe her powers are just growing, that maybe she's just seeing everyone's auras more clearly now. But no; when she looks at Superman, she can't see anything beyond the vague, hazy outline of color that she can normally see with strangers. What are the odds, that she sees the auras of two complete strangers on the same day?

Lena has more pressing issues on her hand, though, as she watches Supergirl plummet to the helipad with a huge crash. Suddenly, Supergirl's aura shifts from that deep blue to an angry red as she stands amidst the rubble and shoots back into the sky.

From the helicopter, Lena watches Supergirl take down another drone, a fiery red aura emanating from her body with just a tinge of blue desperation. Heart hammering, Lena tries to calm herself as Supergirl guides the helicopter back down to the top of the L-Corp tower.

Supergirl opens the helicopter door, and Lena gets the first clear look at her. Blue eyes pierce her, scanning her up and down to check for injuries. Despite the fear, despite the confusion coursing through her, which she knows to be her own emotions, her heart flutters again.

Interesting.

Supergirl helps her out of the helicopter and EMTs immediately rush to attend to the pilot. To Lena's surprise, Supergirl sticks around, ensuring that Lena and the pilot are okay.

Lena studies the blonde in front of her — from her bright, crystal blue eyes, to her curls cascading down her shoulders, to her strong stance, hands on her hips. She radiates power and authority, exactly the opposite of what she had seen earlier that day.

Still, that shimmering blue hue around her is unmistakable, the same color as her eyes and glittering in the sunlight. The same flood of emotion overwhelms Lena: hope.

There's no denying it, Lena thinks. There is only one logical explanation for it: Kara Danvers is Supergirl.

[hyper-fixated-delusions]

Chances.

Wanda Maximoff x fem!reader.

A/N: I hope you enjoy and I apologize for any mistakes! Also comments, reblogs, shares and likes are super appreciated, thank you! :)

Translation: “Sestra.” Sister.

Flashbacks are in italics.

Word count: 974.

Masterlist.

“What if I hadn't asked for your name? And time hadn't stopped when you said it to me?” // Chances by Backstreet Boys

“Hello welcome, is it just you three?” The host of the restaurant you're at with Wanda and her best friend asks.

“Hi, yes, it’s just us three,” your girlfriend responds with a smile.

“Okay, so we’re a little busy today so there'll be a 20 minute wait, is that okay?” The host says.

“Yes, that's fine, thank you,” you reply, smiling as well.

“Okay great, well if you’d like, we have a waiting area just outside, you can take a seat and we'll call you when your table is ready,” they say and the three of you nod, walking away to the waiting area.

“Hey, while we wait for our table to be ready, why don't you tell me the story about how the two of you met? I mean, you're great together, don't get me wrong, but this happened so suddenly. One day Wanda is single and the next she's infatuated with a stranger she met on the street, so what's the story?” Natasha Romanoff, Wanda's best friend asks once you’re all seated.

“Honestly, there’s not much to tell. Meeting Wanda was purely coincidental,” you begin shrugging slightly, “or as I'd like to call it, fate,” you grin teasingly, your girlfriend rolling her eyes as a blush coats her cheeks.

“Oh, please don’t start,” Wanda mumbles, looking down as she tries to suppress a smile.

“Come on, you love it,” you wink, placing a chaste kiss to her cheek.

“Okay, okay, I get it, you guys are cute. Now can we please get to the story?” Natasha intervenes, with a smirk on her lips.

“Yeah, sorry,” you chuckle, “anyway, this is how it goes.”

-

You were walking down the busy streets of New York, on your way to meet up with your best friend Steve Rogers, when you suddenly bump into a woman.

Or more like she bumped into you, causing you to fall to the ground and slightly hit your head on the pavement.

“Oh my god, oh my god, I am so sorry,” an inexplicably beautiful voice says.

Your eyes are closed as you're on the ground because the sun was blinding you and the pounding in your head was making it that much harder for you to want to open your eyes.

“I-I, oh goodness, are you okay?” The person nervously asks, and suddenly the sun isn’t hitting your eyes anymore, so you slowly open them and the sight that greets you is one you would never forget.

“I-” you begin, cutting yourself short when you realize just how beautiful the woman in front of you is.

“She's not talking Pietro! Do you think I gave her a concussion?!” The girl asks, as she looks to her brother, eyes wide in fear.

“No, no sestra, she’s okay. Just dazed.” Pietro, a silver haired man beside the beautiful girl responds, his tone slightly amused.

“Then why isn’t she talking, is she in shock or something?” The woman that knocked you down inquires, looking at you as you continue sitting on the ground.

“Yes,” Pietro chuckles, the situation extremely humorous for him, “but not for the reason you’d think.”

“Then can you please tell me what is going on? Should we call an ambulance or something?” The redhead asks, arms flailing in distress, voice raising slightly due to her panic as her brother shakes his head, your voice suddenly interrupting.

“Are you an Angel? Because you’re so beautiful it’s unreal,” are the first words you mutter after a few minutes of staring at the redhead.

“Wait, what?” Wanda says in shock, head tilting as she looks at you confused, then she looks to her brother, said brother letting out a loud laugh at the situation.

“Oh my god, this is gold!” Pietro exclaims, doubled over in laughter.

“Shut up Piet," the woman mumbles, cheeks blazing red, “and you. You must have hit your head harder than you thought. Come on, let’s get you up.” She says as she offers you a hand. Which you take immediately, eyes widening when you feel as if an electrical current has flowed through you.

You look to the woman that just helped you up and say, “please tell me you felt it too?” Receiving a slow nod in return, you introduce yourself to the redhead. “I’m Y/N. What’s your name?”

“Wanda.” Is the offered response, followed by a beautiful shy smile and you swear you feel as time stops.

“Wanda.” You repeat, testing the name, a name you will never forget for as long you live.

-

“So yeah, that's how we met. I got tackled to the ground mercilessly, was basically concussed, but I landed this beauty in return. So honestly, if I had to, I'd go through it all over again,” you say, smiling cheekily as Natasha and Wanda let out a teasing groan, causing you to let out a laugh, “what?” You ask the women.

“You are an idiot, my love,” Wanda laughs.

“Yeah, an idiot in love,” you say jokingly, “I'm pretty sure I lost brain cells during the fall, so really, you're to blame,” you say sticking your tongue out, both redheads laughing.

“Honestly, you two are sickening and the way you met is truly for the books. Pietro had a field day when we finally met up after that, he couldn’t even get the story out from how hard he was laughing,” Natasha says, “but I'm glad you're together, you two make quite the pair,” Natasha smiles at her best friend.

“We do, don't we?” Wanda asks, green eyes sparkling with love as she takes your hand. Placing a small kiss on the back of your hand, “as big of a dork as she is, I wouldn't trade her for the world,” Wanda beams.

“Ditto Max, I wouldn't trade you for the world either,” you say, beaming with a smile.

[writing-whump]

Bad careraker

Needed a break from the drama, so have some Dylan with indigestion and Rip having no idea what to do about it.

When Dylan came home from his emergency hospital call from his sister, it was already late afternoon.

Rip spent the day polishing the kitchen, trying to manage the chaos Dylan left in his wake. Dylan was messy even on a good day, but when he got into something—like digging out his boxing gear or work-out equipment Rip couldn’t identify—their living room turned into a disaster zone.

Forced to live in less-than-clean environments in the last years, Rip cherished the chance to take care of this place—sweeping, dusting, mopping the floors—and he was practically in love with the dishwasher! It was the coolest thing, aside from actual clean plates without splitters that weren't plastic or from the garbage.

Plus, he felt like he was contributing something. Moving around the place was safe, and he could feel himself managing more and more on his feet every day. Which was good cause keeping up with Dylan's fast pace of ruining his work was a worthy challenge.

How Dylan functioned in that mess when he didn't have to was beyond Rip's reality.

When Dylan arrived, his shoes went, of course, flying in two different directions. He discarded his sweaty shirt on the floor as he went, then collapsed in the middle of the sofa in the living room. "Ugh, that was horrible."

Rip had to work hard to contain his annoyance to twitching eyebrows. "Hi to you, too."

Dylan buried his face into the tiny pillow on the sofa with a long-suffering sigh.

"How did it go?"

"Didn't find out much. Just Sel crying her eyes out and everyone being super secretive. God forbit someone finds out Isaiah was sick."

Rip raised his eyebrows, bracing his hands on the kitchen island that offered good view into the living room. Must have been something serious if it got the Executioner into a hospital. Especially one that had such extensive medical knowledge. Something even he couldn't handle?

"I have never seen her like that." Dylan turned his head to the side, facing the turned-off TV. "Or I did, but like an eternity ago. Not since when she came to my room to cry about some bullying classmate or some shit. She was 12."

Rip rubbed the back of his head, not sure if that was information Dylan should be sharing with a stranger. "Will they...ehh, be okay?"

"Should be coming home soon. Honestly, I don't get the drama, he's got a shadow and is healing up. What could be so bad? Touchy wolves and their invulnerability crap."

Rip wondered if he should remind him that Dylan was a wolf too. It was funny to watch how he sometimes counted himself among humans without thinking.

Dylan's cheeks suddenly puffed out and he burped loudly. "Ughhh. My stomach's killing me."

Rip cringed. "What did you eat?'

Dylan turned to the side, so he could rub at his middle with a grimace. "Took Sel to McDonalnds. I completely forgot about how greasy that food is. Didn't eat stuff like that for months."

Rip's gaze went to the collection of protein shakes and vitamins that covered the cupboards next to the sink. Dylan was surprisingly aware of his health, on a diet to grow his muscles and aid his gym efforts. It was hard to meet someone that obsessed with himself. "Why would you do that, then?"

"Cause I forgot, that's why! Had like two burgers, chicken nuggets and fries....and the one more, cause we were waiting on empty and it was getting weird." He opened his mouth with another loud burp, his stomach churning aggressively. "Damn, it's really brewing in there."

Once again, Rip was at a loss for words in the face of Dylan's unashamed openness.

"s gonna ruin my streak too," Dylan said mournfully as he lifted himself up into a sitting position, swallowing heavily.

"Why is that so strickt?"

Dylan gave him a glare. "You are not gonna get sixpack from McDonalds and chocolates, man. And I need to look good on videos if I want sport and vitamin companies to sponsor me." He looked terribly pleased with himself. "I'm gonna make thousands of euroes from being an infleuncer on TikTok with his physique, you just watch."

Rip would be glad to watch if he knew what TikTok was. Dylan forced his old Samsung on him but Rip got easily overwhelmed by the number of apps installed there. Didn't help Dylan's teaching skills encompassed zero patience. Just as short his attention span. This online genration.

Dylan groaned, kneading into his stomach with both hands. That worked up a string of loud belches.

Rip scrunched his nose. "Really, man?"

"What? It's helping."

"Is it?" Rip said dryly. Dylan was getting paler by the second, swallowing frantically. Rip stepped closer to the sofa, and sure enough, he could hear loud, upset gurgles through the whole living room. "Maybe you should lie down or something."

"You don't lie down with indigestion, stupid. Sitting up is supposed to help." His stomach gave another growl again, like a cornered wolf.

"...are you gonna hurl?"

Dylan winced, glaring indignant daggers at Rip. "No. Just feel sick is all."

"That's what that usually entails."

Dylan gulped again, breathing through his teeth. "Do we have something for it?"

"Huh? We?"

"Yeah," Dylan said sullenly. "Sel always has drops or tea or some digestion enzyms at hand."

Rip shrugged, never having any of that ever, not to mention at hand.

"What about coke or tea?"

"Man, I don't do the shopping." He hadn't been outside since the stabbing. Saving that up for later, after Isaiah promised to see over his shadow and figure out what he should do to interact with people normally. His only contact outside was Dylan. "I can get you water?"

"Water? Geez-buurp-thanks, no thanks." Dylan cradled his belly gently, a shiever rocking his spine as his jaw snapped up with another wet burp. "I really don't...feel good."

"What about you go to the bathroom so you don't make a mess?" Rip suggested in irritation.

"I'm not...not gonna throw up," Dylan protested but dragged himself clumsily to his feet, arm wrapped tightly around his stomach. Now that he was standing Rip could see how bloated it was, skin stretched around a giant ball instead of the usual toned muscles.

The black haired wolf followed after Dylan. He didn't really want to be around, he wasn't sure what to do, but it also didn't feel right to just leave him to it. Not when Dylan had been so crazy about helping him at every turn.

Dylan didn't get far, bracing against the kitchen sink as his throat bobbed, working out another burp. He shook his head and grimaced queasily. "Not sitting right. Really wants to fight its way out of there."

"Less talk and more moving," Rip said, cause this was looking too close for comfort. He tugged at Dylan's hand just when the brown-haired retched emptily over the sink.

"See? Hurry up. Sink is gonna be a hassle to clean."

"Y-you are so mean, anyone told you that?" Dylan whined, but let Rip pull him away and towards the bathroom.

Rip felt a stab of guilt and defensive anger. Why was Dylan making such a big deal about a little nausea? Was his own fault for eating crap he knew he shouldn't.

Dylan stumbled in front of the toilet and moaned pathetically towards the water, hands shaking as he grabbed the rim for support.

Rip made a move to leave, then bit his lip at the pitiful whine. Dylan was so dramatic. "What now? Anything else you want?"

"Jerk," Dylan said, spitting into the toilet. His belly gave a loud gurgly moan that ended in a deep rumbling belch towards the water. "Oh, that hurts."

"Where is your fighting spirit," Rip said bitingly, but turned back to stand over Dylan. What was his role supposed to be in this? Dylan obviously wanted something, making such a scene out of it, but Rip couldn't figure out what.

"T-hink the f-fries are winning this round," Dylan wheezed. His shoulders hitched as he retched, but only another burp came up.

"Let it happen already. Geez, you make a big deal out of this," Rip said, rolling his eyes. He was close enough to get the stench from Dylan's unmuffled burps.

Dylan lurched forward suddenly, a wet burp bringing up a small gush of puke. The next heave came right after, a much thicker wave of yellowy mush.

Rip grimaced and looked away, but Dylan's loud retches and throaty burps didn't leave much to imagination.

Dylan was holding onto the rim of the toilet with both hands, a long string of saliva hanging from his mouth. There were little tears of strain sliding down his cheeks and he was sniffling.

"That it?" Rip asked, reaching over to hand him a bunch of toilet paper. "Nothing to be so shaky over, come on."

Dylan lowered his head, lips quivering as he wiped his face. Rip flushed the toilet, still standing over him.

"C-could you get me some water?"

Rip scoffed. "Now he wants water. Honestly, you don't look like you can keep it down yet. Let's not waste it."

That had Dylan's head snapping up, cheeks all red. "You are such an asshole, it's not a waste-"

Rip sighed and drummed his fingers gently over Dylan's back. Dylan's eyes glazed over and he turned back over the bowl sharply as it worked up another burp.

The next one brought a new splatter of sick though.

Rip chuckled at how well that worked. "There you go. Just get it out."

[stopaskinf]

Drunk Dude in the Bathroom

(Hoshi x fem!black!reader)

Summary: The title really says it all. You try to go piss during a party and find Hoshi crying in the bathroom.

Genre: fluff, strangers to friends to lovers???, college AU

Word count: Around 0.8K

CW: none fr, mentions of drinking, crying and bodily functions. Hoshi being a cornball who thinks you’re hot.

You need to piss. The combination of drinks and getting distracted by music at this party was terrible for your bladder.

You ask your friend Youngji where the bathroom is. She knows way more about this place than you do.

“Its upstairs near the left. Can’t miss it!” She practically screams.

You give her a thumbs up as you start walking up the steps. Heels were a bad option. After an eternity, You finally reach the bathroom, thank god. If you had to hold it a second longer, you would have pissed on the floor. However, as soon as you open the door, you’re met with muffled blubbering from behind the shower curtain.

Throwing caution to the wind, you open the curtain to find a handsome and drunk blonde man holding a bag of ice like a well-loved childhood plushie.

“Umm…You good?”

He sniffles and loosens his grip on the ice bag. He looks up at you with puffy eyes, unshed tears still shining.

“Yes-no..I..just-did you know most tiger cubs don’t survive their first year of life?” He cries.

What the fuck. He’s clearly gone.

“...I did not know that.” You say baffled.

“Hey, why are you in-”

“You’re so pretty.” He says glossy-eyed.

Your face goes hot.

“Thank you, but listen-” You stutter out.

“Like super pretty, like you look like Naomi Campbell mixed with Megan thee Stallion.”

High praise.

“That's very sweet of you.” You give a shy smile.

He gives a toothy smile while he blushes.

“You’re welcome, pretty lady.” He cheeses.

Ok. You’re getting off track. You still need to piss. You’ve got to get this guy out of the bathroom.

“Hey, what’s your sign?” He asks as he shifts in the tub to get more comfortable.

He treats it like a children sized bed.

“I-I’m an aquarius.” You answer puzzled.

He lets go of his bag of ice and flaps his arms while making an excited squealing noise.

“Oh my god, oh my god, that explains everything!”

Does it?

“Yknow that explains why you’re so pretty! Aquariuses’ are always so like otherworldly. Real goddess energy. OOOOHH and we’re compatible cause I’m a Gemini! Air signs for the win!” He practically yells as he stumbles to get up from the tub and give you a high five? A hug? You’re not sure. Either way, he ends up wobbling and almost falling face first out of the tub. So, in an act of quick thinking, you catch him.

“Bro, are you good?” You ask worriedly. He’s really fucking gone.

He ends up hugging you, either in an attempt to keep himself steady or to bask in your warmth. You’re not sure.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, I’m fine. I’ve just had a little too much to drink. By the way, you smell crazy good. What perfume do you use? And your skin is so soft! What products are you using? Also, are you seeing anyone? I don’t want to be a creep, but I hate to get you in trouble and you’re really cute.”

You chuckle as you hold him. It should feel uncomfortable holding a 6-foot stranger in a small bathroom, but he makes it feel natural.

“ I can tell that much just by looking at you. First, It’s a Valentino one, I forgot the name. Second, Shea butter. Third, no.”

You feel him hold you tighter and give out a small “yay” as he nuzzles into you.

“Oh my god, you know what would slap right now?” he says as he excitedly grabs your shoulders.

“What?” You ask.

“Well, first, some chicken nuggets. God, I’m starving. DK never has any actual food in the dorms and it sucks balls. He’s still a great guy though, I’ll have to introduce you two later. Oh, I totally forgot, we’re also roomies, so, you’ve probably already seen him. Lanky dude, sharp nose, great teeth?” He rambles.

“He sounds familiar.”

You feel his hands grab your face, you feel the cold metal of his rings contrast his warm hands and your hot face.

“Yeah that’s him. Oh my god, wait, I also want an Oreo McFlurry. When does Mcdonalds close?” He asks excitedly while slowly stroking your face.

“Aren’t they open 24 hours?”

He gasps and his eyes shine. He squeals and sways you both back and forth while holding your face in his hands.

“You’re so right! Sexy, strong, and smart! The big 3 S’s! We totally need to go! Please?” He pleads.

You give a soundless laugh and nod your head. This is definitely going to be a good night.

[lil-spider]

So Damn Pretty

Chapter 2

Part 1 : Part 3 :

Pairing: Johnny Slaughter X Female Reader

Summary: Johnny is sex starved and you’re very attractive, so attractive that he doesn’t want to kill you. Instead he finds ways to keep you around longer.

Note: Okey I’ve changed some stuff so here’s some context. I like the idea of Johnny being a bit of an sex addict and he’s really good at sex (he can find the clit type of good) cause he’s made himself a hobby fucking the pretty female victims and going out to the local bar when he actually gets free time. He’s a basically massive man whore, but he can’t help it that women find him sexy (super cocky). But Drayton later finds out he’s been fucking the food (lmao) and has temporarily banned him from going out by himself and keeping the female victims away from him. So a sex starved Johnny who’s heavily attracted to the reader sees an opportunity to use her like a maid so he can constantly keep fucking her. I’m still gonna keep the baby momma thing but that will come later in the story. Oh and I’m turning 21 on the 17th! So happy birthday to my fellow September babies!

Warning: This is 18+ and please do not read if your sensitive to heavy descriptions of non/con and violence. Including bondage, blood, gore, assault, objectification and unsafe sex. For those who don’t mind, I hope you enjoy.

Catchy music was blearing out of the front speakers of the minivan; my friends Jessica and Nate were singing along to the tunes. I was sitting in the back, relaxing into my seat, enjoying the fact that college was finished and summer holidays were just beginning. We decided this summer we were going to experience camping for the first time. We had all grown up in the city and never got the chance to enjoy the country side of Texas. I’m excited to finally cross camping off my bucket list, and make this summer memorable.

 

My bubbly blonde friend Jessica turned around in her seat. “Two hours left, and we should be at the campsite before night.” She said this, grinning at me and turning back to kiss her boyfriend, Nate, on the cheek. Nate, being the protective type, only tagged along with us as he didn’t like the idea of two ‘pretty girls’ camping by themselves in the middle of nowhere. They have only been dating for a few months; he’s the classic teen heartthrob with dazzling eyes and short, dark blonde hair, and Jessica is the overly cute blonde. They were perfect for each other. I smile at the both of them, they were great friends.

 

“Oh fuck!” Nate is panicking as black smoke starts coming out of the hood. He pulls over to the side of the road, and all of us get out to see what’s wrong. “Can’t it be fixed?” I ask, looking at Nate, worried. His face contorts in disappointment. “I've got no idea, Y/N; cars aren’t my speciality.”

We all look at each other, uncertain of what to do; we’re in the remote countryside without any sort of help. “We might have to walk back if no one drives by.” Nate tells us regretfully: But as soon as he said that, we saw an old blue Ford truck honking and driving up to us.

 

“You need a hand?” The unknown driver asked Nate. “Yes please! Our van just broke down with smoke coming out.” Nate explained to the man. He nods his head and parks his truck in front of us. The trucks door opens, and out climbs one of the best-looking guys I have ever seen. He wears a black sleeveless top that shows off his muscular arms and a pair of blue denim jeans paired with dirty yellow gloves. He has dark brown hair slicked back with a few strands falling over a scar; my cunt embarrassingly throbbed at the sight of him; I must have gone red in the face as he smirked looking at me. I quickly turned my head to look at Jessica, who was also a little red in the face. It’s not every day you see a hot country boy.

 

The handsome stranger introduces himself as Johnny Slaughter. “Good to meet you, Johnny. I’m Nate, over there is my girlfriend Jessica and my friend Y/N.” I did a little wave at my name, hoping I wasn’t still blushing. He shakes Nates hand and nods his head to us. “Ladies. Damn, he has a deep voice; it’s making me all hot and bothered. “Alrighty then Nate, pop the hood and let's take a look.”

 

Johnny stared at the engine, arms pressed against the van, leaning over while shaking his head. “I’m going to have to get my tools for this.” He said, looking over at us. ‘’Ah, shit! That bad?" Nate asked. “Yep, but don’t y’all worry, I’ll get this baby fixed in the morning. For now I can take you guys back to my family’s home, get some food, and sleep?’’ Johnny offered. “Wow, that’s so nice of you, Johnny.’’ Jessica replied, smiling at him, being a little too flirty.

 

I feel a little uncertain about trusting Johnny, we have only just met him; but he is helping us and I would rather not sleep on the side of the road. Jessica and I nod to Nate in agreement with Johnny’s offer. “Okay, yeah, we’ll go with you.’’ Nate tells him. He smiles, slamming the hood of the van back down, and turns, leading us back to his truck. He opens the back door, and we three slide in. As Johnny hops into the driver's seat, we are greeted by a woman sitting in the passenger seat. Was she here the whole time? “Hi y'all, I’m Sissy.’’ She introduces herself with a wink, but before we could reply, she blows this white powder in our faces. My vision starts to blur as I hear strangled coughing from my friends, and everything quickly goes black.

 

The next thing I know, I’m waking up tied to a meat hook, covered in dry blood, and desperate for freedom. At that time I had no idea where Jessica and Nate could be, but now as I stare at their lifeless, brutalised corpses, I regret not trying to find them. Jessica's blonde hair is tangled, and her body is covered in slices, with a massive cut on her stomach. Nate's handsome face was shredded up by a chainsaw. They are getting wrapped in a blue tarp, by a larger man with a very human like mask on his face. Johnny takes a drag of his cigarette while holding me, and he shoots me a grin, seeing my legs wobble from the hard fucking I endured. “You enjoyed that, didn’t you? So slutty having an orgasm while your friends get murdered.’’ He taunts quietly in my ear, guilt-tripping me.

 

“Johnny, why is she still alive?” Asked the small woman who blew white powder in my face. It’s Sissy, I think, trying to remember her name. “This pretty little thing is going to help us cook, clean, and do all the daily chores around the house. We’ve been needing extra hands around the farm since Ma is gone and Drayton busy with the chilli carnivals.’’ He explains to Sissy. She looks at me up and down, smirking. “Oh, I’ve been wantin’ some female company for ages now, and you're so beautiful too! I have these pretty ol’ dresses that would look lovely-,” she didn’t finish her sentence as she’s cut off by Johnny. “That’s enough, Sissy; you can talk to her later; we've got sh*t to do.’’ She rolls her eyes at him but goes to help the larger man.

 

Johnny pats the larger man on the back, “You did a good job, Bubba.’’ So Bubba is his name. He just lets out these happy groans. So he’s nonverbal?Johnny turns back to me. “Were you listening before? Tomorrow, Sissy will show you how things get done.” With a cig in his mouth, he grabs me again, pulling me out of the slaughterhouse and bringing me to his parked truck. “I’ll cut off the zip-tie when we get back home.’’ He opens the passenger-side door, waiting for me to hop in. He shuts the door after me and flicks away his burned-out cigarette, reaching in his back pocket for another one. Johnny walks away as Sissy plops into the back seat. “Hi again sugar.” She says gleefully behind me.

 

Johnny and Bubba walk back, carrying each body on their shoulders, I swallow a lump as they chuck the bodies carelessly in the tray. Johnny, with another cigarette in his mouth, gets into the driver's seat, Bubba sits next to Sissy. Johnny chucks his packet of smokes and bloodied gloves from his back pocket onto the dash. He starts up the engine and changes gears, leaving the slaughterhouse behind. The drive is silent except for Sissy’s humming; Bubba stares out of his window while Johnny drives one handed flicking his finished cigarette out the window. I look back to the front, watching the high beam lights brighten up the dark landscape.

 

We turn onto a long dirt road leading up to a white, two-story house. Johnny parks the truck at the front and helps Bubba unload the bodies. Sissy goes to unlock the front door, leaving me alone. I thought of running when they took the bodies into the house. But I’m still zip-tied, so my chances of escaping now are extremely slim.

 

Johnny comes back to open my door and yank me out. He roughly drags me inside. I look around and notice a lot of bone decor, similar to the hanging bones in the slaughterhouse. I really hope it’s not human. I’m brought downstairs to a basement, Johnny opens this metal door, it makes a loud awful sound. He takes me to a small prison; Johnny stops to cut off the zip-tie, and I rub my sore wrists, trying to bring the blood to flow back. Johnny pushes me into the room, locking the door. It’s smells disgusting and damp.

 

“I'll be back to bring ya’ dinner.’’ He leaves upstairs, slamming that awful metal door. I sit down on the dirt floor and bring my knees to my chest. Dried-up cum is all over my thighs, making me feel gross. I started to cry. The last few hours have been horrid. I wish it was just a nightmare. The basement door slides open again. Snivelling, I stand to see who's down here. It’s that large man with the mask, Bubba; he walks over to the end of the basement, where I see Jessica and Nate’s hanging bodies, stomachs sliced open with their organs dropped into a metal tub. My hands shake as I cover my mouth in shock. Oh God! Bubba unhooks Nate and carries him over to a workbench littered with dirty tools. He grabs a hacksaw and begins to dismember Nate. I walk backwards into a corner, sliding down the wall. I started to breakdown. Is he harvesting them? Are these murderers cannibals? God, why did this happen? From sheer exhaustion, I lean my head back and pass out.

 

“Hey! Wake up!’’ My eyes shot open, searching for the yelling voice. It’s Johnny; he’s holding a white bowl with a spoon. He crouch’s down to my level and hands out the bowl for me to take. I hesitate because I am sceptical of the ingredients. “It’s pot roast; Sissy made it.’’ It does smell delicious, but I don’t wanna eat it. “I’m not hungry,” I told him in defiance. His eye twitches in annoyance, not liking my response. He grabs my hair roughly, craning my neck to stare at him. “Listen, I’m being really fucking nice here, so I ain’t gonna take any disrespect! You may be pretty, but I can easily get another woman who is just a tad more obedient to replace you.’’ His threat worked. I snatched the bowl and dug in, It was tasty. “Good girl.’’ He smiled, patting my head as I ate. He waits until I’m finished and leaves. Did I eat someone? Will I have to eat my friends? I have so many questions but right now the only thing that matters is staying alive. I don’t want to end up like Jessica and Nate.

Sometime later, Johnny comes back to let me out. “Follow me," I obeyed him, leaving the basement and following upstairs. He brings me to a bathroom. It has white broken tiles, a large bathtub with a shower head. He locks the door after I enter and turns the water on, letting it heat up. He throws off his top, giving a new view of his muscular body. I couldn’t help but stare. He has old scars lingering over his body more noticeably on his large pecs, he’s has light definition on his abdomen, and a defined v-cut. His body represents the result of hard work. He smirks at my staring, continuing he unbuckles his jeans, pulling them down. I quickly glance wanting to get a good look at his cock. It’s only semi-hard yet it’s still intimidating, how did it managed to fit inside me?

 

Johnny doesn’t move as he waits for me to undress. Not wanting to anger him again, I take off my dress, dropping the tattered material. I shiver in my naked form. He gently takes my hand and helps me into the shower. I hiss as the hot water makes my cuts sting. He grabs a plain bar of soap and starts lathering it up and down my body. Enjoying my little gasps as he squeezes my tits and glides his hands everywhere. He swaps us around so he goes under the water, his muscles flex as he relaxes, his head falling back, closing his eyes, while his hands run through his dark hair.

 

I won’t lie; just the sight of him is turning me on. Shit, why does he have to be so sexy? A murderer shouldn’t be sexy. Startling me out of my thoughts, he grabs my hand that’s holding the soap and moves it to his body, wanting me to wash him. Nervous, I don’t refuse, but I start out slowly around his stomach, leading up to his chest. This small action makes him rock hard. I see it pulse against his lower stomach just above his belly button, I bite my tongue scrubbing his body with both hands, massaging his chest and arms, feeling his muscles. The hot look he gives me sends a throb straight to my core. Water gently running down his handsome face. He brings my right soapy hand down to his cock, tugging it. “Come on baby, jerk my fucking cock.’’ I hesitate for a second, he squeezes my hand hard as a slight warning not to disobey. Wincing, I start to tug at his cock up and down, jerking him off. Groaning, he rocks his hips, shifting them into my hand, following my rhythm. “Good girl, play with my cock, just like that’’ He’s a head taller then me so when he grabs my chin to look at him I have to bend my neck back. “I bet your pussy’s dripping.’’

 

He swats my hand away and grabs my hips, bringing me in closer under the water so the soap starts rinsing off. He places his fingers below and, feels up my pussy, “I fucking knew it; you're such a needy whore, getting wet from jerking my cock off.’’ I grow shy at his words, wanting to hide my face from embarrassment. Johnny places his hands on the sides of my head and shoves his tongue down my throat. Heavily aroused, I kissed back, holding on to his shoulders. We start making out, our hot tongues wrestling with each other. His strong arms pick me up and shove me against the shower wall. I wrap my legs around his waist for balance while he lines his cock up thrusting it in my cunt without warning. I groan at the sudden intrusion: “Shhh, it’ll only take a second.’’ He says impatiently pounding into me. His hard cock reaches new places, making me moan desperately. The running water muffles the sounds of flesh clapping together. He grips my hips hard as he thrusts upward at a brutal pace. This time only focusing on his own release.

 

He leans back to watch my chest bounce. “Fuck, I love your tits.’’ He says with admiration as he slows down to suckle on each nipple. His obsession with my breasts is going to be the end of me. I start getting closer again until he stops, suddenly cumming inside me. “Ah,’’ he lets out a little moan as he fills my throbbing cunt. I look at him in disappointment, I was so close to cumming. He grins playful at me. He places me down as we go back to washing, I silently fume as my pussy and clit pulse from neglect.

 

We dry ourselves, and he puts on new, clean clothes similar to his older ones, but the shirt is blue. He hands me a white summer dress. “One of Sissy’s.’’ He tells me, “any underwear?’’ I question. He just sends an amusing smile and shakes his head. “That's a privilege, sweetheart.’’ Great; it wouldn’t have been bad if the dress wasn’t so short. If I bend over too far, I’ll flash my goods.

 

Johnny leads away to what seems to be his room. Everything is old and wooden; including a worn-out bed barely big enough for two people. He lays down on it and pats his side, signalling me to sit. I lay down on his bed as he sits up going in between my legs, pushing up my new dress. “I like the easy access.’’ He tells me right before sucking on my swollen clit. “Nnnnh.’’ I moan breathlessly finally having some relief. His two middle fingers slide in and set a steady pace. I spread my legs wider for him, still turned on from the shower fuck. He shoves his tongue flat against my nub, licking it up and down. I push his head further into me, thrusting against his face; this spurs him on as his fingers speed up. I cum on his face, my head thrown back, as my hands grip the sheets tight. I rut into him as he licks up all my juices.

Just when I thought we were done he thrusts his fingers back into me. I try to close my legs and wiggle away from the overstimulation but Johnny forces them open. He lets out a deep chuckle at the tears rolling out my eyes, I clench on his thick fingers as he puts his thumb on my sensitive clit, rubbing it in slow circles. I still hold onto the sheets while lifting up my hips, trying to chase my second release. He hears my needy whines and speeds up, swapping to his other thumb to rub my clit faster while his opposite hand continues finger fucking me. “Fuck, Johnny please don’t stop.’’ I beg him as I cum around his fingers. I gasp at the abruptness of my second orgasm. My legs shake from the intensity. Johnny pulls his hands away from me as I turn to the side, squeezing my legs trying to relieve the sensations.

 

He casually stands up walking to the desk across the room grabbing a cig, lighting it. Cig in mouth he undresses, getting ready bed. I watch him smoke, flicking the ashes in a tray on the desk. When I finally calm down he’s finished the cigarette, he turns of a lamp comes to lay down behind me, getting comfortable. He wraps one arm around my waist and helps me take of my dress letting it drop to the floor, So both of us now naked. “I'll set up a room for you soon; for now, you’ll stay with me.’’ He speaks softly. I try to get comfortable on the small bed wiggling slightly. “You keep moving like that and I’m going to fuck you again.” He threatens squeezing me tight. I freeze, too sensitive to test his patience.

“Hey Johnny?” I gently whisper his name. The only response I get is snoring, now left with no distractions I go back to my thoughts. I feel guilty knowing I’ve been enjoying Johnny’s company too much, I shouldn’t feel this comfortable with him but the more he cuddles into me the more my eyes feel heavy, I start to fall sound asleep in the arms of a killer.

[echosong-87]

What is the impression of Branch towards the snack pack

Branh's mostly a quiet but very observant shadow... he does stay mostly quiet and would at first find the snack pack super bright and too energetic... far too energetic for his own comfort.

For Creek... Branch deeply felt sorrow.... more so that Creek does not recognize him... Creek was a dear best friend of his brother Floyd... and in an awkward Creek fashion, Creek tried to care for the sad grey trolling that was still mourning the loss of his last relative.... and every time the older trolling would try to help him, Branch at that time shooed and booted him away... wanting nothing to do with the other trolls... for fear that he would cause Creek's death or something like that... and it broke Branch's mental state for a long while... even to this day.. now that both him and Creek are grown.... yet Creek does not recognize him due to the huge obvious changes that Branch went through... and Branch could see hints of distaste in Creek... but Creek only saw (and envied Lunar/Obsidian and not Branch) a stranger troll being a show off and not see him as him.... so yeah... Branch had no choice but to continue to keep his true identity hidden... even from someone who is a part of his past.

For Poppy… Branch did felt feelings for her, but the very first was the obvious annoyance that he has for her… and a tiny little grudge over her cause she literally crashed onto him.... he later forgave her and forgot the incident... but he was very curious as to how and why does she had so much optimism and wondered where on earth does she never seemed to have any tiredness or weariness.

He does tend to freeze up or stiffen whenever anyone tries to hold him or give him a hug.... for Poppy being completely the sole big giant hugger and very energetic and bubbly... he would stiffen immediately and was afraid to hurt her... cause the classical trolls are small and some are super delicate(the teeny children and elderly most definitely).... and her being the only one that held him in a huge embrace was both confusing for him, but it opened a loneliness inside... which he was super numb to notice... (20 years to be, in fact) and tried to hug her back as gently and sadly stiffly in return...

Which is why and how his feelings for her started to bloom.

And in return she felt the same after he swapped himself with her when Barb shot out the ever first ultimate power cord.

For Dj Suki, he did love sharing and listening to each one's composition of music.... obviously later on as time goes... but he would learn that she's a lot more silent than her friends... and he liked staying near her because of it.... he grown so used to the peaceful scenery and cinematic silent sounds of the Classical kingdom so much that he's no fan of the biggest, loudest, and craziest parties... it mostly would just overload him to want to fly way... so yeah.

For the twins he does admire their handy work in fashion and design... and would happily introduce them to his own team of fashion experts at his home.

For Cooper... seeing his goofy face and lovable persona, he noticed that Cooper's alright to be around but would keep him at arms length, though... he still has trusting issues and still holds a lot of suspicion... but as time progresses... and he sees him with Prince D... made him internally bitter and longing... but hopeful.... that when one day Branch would find all of his older brothers... and bring each of them to his domain... and they be safe under his protection and be a family once more....and hoping deeply and truly that his burning questions for them would be answered finally...and truly be happy again much as like as Cooper and his family.... all he could do is watch silently in a quiet wishful hope that he could see them again... for now, he would be there to help protect the funk twins with his life during the whole rock kingdom invasion.

For Biggie, he would be at a cautionary position while confronting him... cause Biggie is bigger and taller than him... but Branch soon realized that was a huge mistake cause one small glance and quick eyes locking... the poor troll would shrink back all scared and would hide behind Creek or the twins.... internally, Branch felt super bad at frighting the big guy.

For Guy Diamond…. Branch completely forgot that a glitter troll does exist!!.. and he would be both astounded by the mere sight of one… cause in his youth or the memories he held… he literally thought that they were nothing but a strange dream… and Branch would ask him to hold his hand or something just to see the glitter rub off of Guy Diamond and onto his hands.

Branch would ask questions after questions… like does Guy Diamond molt the glitter at both the spring and fall seasons like his feathers! XD

He also asked a very scary/creepy question... does Guy Diamond bleed glitter if he gets cut or stabbed... which made everyone a tad bit unsettled and uncomfortable, but Branch didn't seem to notice cause he was super curious.

For Smidget, he literally thought she was a full-blown trolling/child... due to how short and very young looking she was... and would constantly keep her under his wing... keeping her as safe as he could... truly and genuinely not knowing that she, in fact, is the strongest troll in the snack pack... and is just a shy year younger than Branch.

[mrsfrankadler]

Handsome Stranger

ransom drysdale x reader, carter Baizen x reader

A/N: okay why is this man so fine.. put him in jail this has to be against some law somewhere. my god.

- can be a standalone but you’ll wanna read this first, a little backstory for ya🤷🏾‍♀️

Warning: Ransom is lowkey an asshole, bad flirting, swear words 😓

Summary: You finally let rich boy Ran take you out. Let's hope he doesn't ruin his chances… [ 🤣 ]

⋆

Nobody's POV

When you and Ransom arrived to location of the party, it was a big white house illuminated by the floor lights leading to the door.

You just stared in awe. You weren't used to this. Not big parties or being surrounded by loads of rich people. Just staying in with Jake trying to make your way down the watchlist. You never would've guessed you'd be here in front of this modern mansion, with this super fine rich guy in the seat next to you.

"What are you thinkin' about?"

You were pulled back to reality. You turned your head to face him.

"Nothing." You deadpanned. You couldn't let this cocky bastard find out you were nervous. "Let's go."

You quickly got out of the car, being careful not to roll your ankle over the gravel in your heels and made your way to the door, Ransom following closely behind.

When you reached the door, Ransom leaned forward to knock and rested his other hand on the small of your back.

As you waited by the door, he started to rub your back.

"You sure you're okay, gorgeous?" He pulled you closer to him by your waist. You sighed trying to think up something to say but you were saved by the bell. The door abruptly opened to reveal a slightly disheveled redhead.

Her auburn hair was littered with thin braids and there was a dark brown eyeshadow clouding her kind, green eyes.

She looked to Ransom first, subtly squinting her eyes at him before greeting him. "Ransom." Clearly they had met before... Then she turned to look at you.

"Hi, pretty!" She held out her hand for you to shake, "What's your name?"

"Y/N." You took her hand and the coldness of her rings tickled your skin.

"Wanda, nice to meet you." She winked.

Y/N POV

She invited the two of us inside of the spacious estate and the loud pop music flooded my ears and vibrated my head. Looking around, seeing designer jewellery and old money, I became hyper aware of my surroundings. I began to feel inferior, not good enough to be here. I could feel my heart beating out of my chest and my eyes darted around frantically until they landed on the open bar across the living room.

I let out a breath I didn't know I was holding in, tugging Ransom by his arm to whisper in his ear, "I'm going to the bar, find me there later." You looked to Wanda, "excuse me." And left for the bar.

⋆

Making your way to the bar you set your eyes on the last free bar stool and started to make your way to it, but just before you could get to it, someone swiftly sat there instead, causing you sto stumble slightly backward.

You cleared your throat in annoyance, "Uhm, excuse me.."

The person who took your seat turned around slowly with a slight smirk on his face. He had curly, dark brown hair and piercing blue eyes.

"Oh, I'm sorry, were you going to sit here?" He looked up at you, the flirtation evident in his tone.

"Yes. I was." You replied, matter-of-factly.

"Well, I'm sorry princess, but I can't give it up." You furrowed your brows, "I was here first." He stayed smiling and shrugging.

You figured you had no time for bullshit tonight; so you turned around ready to walk away, you guessed you'd just have to find a drink elsewhere but he grabbed grabbed your wrist before I could get anywhere.

"Oh- wait!" What now?

Y/N POV

When I turned around, he had long wiped that smirk right off of his face, it had now been replaced with a sincere apologetic look.

"I- I'm sorry if I came off as an asshole." He sighed. "I was trying to flirt..."

Wow, flattering.

"Yeah well, nice job, Romeo," I retorted.

His brows scrunched together, but he smiled at my joke.

He started to pull me closer by my wrist, "I just wanted an excuse to talk to you, I guess. You're very beautiful."

You felt your face grow hot, he was so smooth with it. He had managed to push you away and reel you right back in within minutes and you were most definitely falling for it.

"Thank you." You giggled at his compliment.

"What's your name?"

You told him your name.

"Well. Beautiful name for a beautiful woman." He winked and you snickered.

"Wow, never heard that one before."

He chuckled before standing up. He must have been around 6 feet. "Have my seat, princess."

⋆

Nobody’s POV

You and this charming stranger began to talk and the conversation was flowing effortlessly. You had learned his name, Carter, and the fact that though this was his party, it was his parent's house. He just wanted to host here because it's much bigger than his loft in New York.

You had soon taken a liking to Carter. Though he was cocky and the beginning, you came to find out he was just trying to flirt and in reality he was quite sweet.

Inevitably though, your relaxed conversation was soon interrupted when a heavy hand suddenly landing on your shoulder mid sentence. Ransom.

"Ransom!" The brunette exclaimed. "How are you, man? It's so good to see you." Ransom must be pretty well known.

The two men shook hands firmly as Ransom suspiciously looked between you and Carter before replying to Carter's greeting.

"So, what are we talking about?" Ransom huffed.

⋆

You slumped into the passenger seat of Ransoms BMW, rolling your eyes as he awkwardly scratched the back of his neck.

See, when he came over to you and Carter, you expected the two of them to start conversing about rich man activities like boats or golf or something, but instead Ransom thought it would be a good idea to pick a fight and accuse Carter of flirting with his girl.

"For the record, big-head, I am not your girl. Don't get it twisted."

He just sighed looking on at the road and gripping the steering wheel, "Okay but, he's.., he's not man enough for you, not good enough. He's recently 20, practically a kid. I'm comin' up 27, I can provide."

You sarcastically mouthed, "wow." to yourself as he rattled on about how much better he is

"Well, what kind of woman do you take me for thinkin I'm gonna run off with some other guy when I'm supposed to be your date to the party." You turned to look at him, your eyes shooting daggers.

"I'm sorry." He momentarily looked down. He could be an asshole sometimes but he seemed genuinely sorry.

His vintage beemer came to a slow outside of you and Jake's shared, little house,

"So... we going to your place or should we go to mine?" he furrowed his brows trying to convince you with that stupid, sexy little smirk. You just laughed to yourself in disbelief.

"You know what you can just drop me right here, thanks Ransom." you replied sweetly, trying not to break. You swiftly got out of the car, trying not to roll your ankle on the concrete and made your way to the door.

"Well, I'll see you later?" He called out.

You yelled back, "Don't hold your breath, Ran."

⋆

A/N: welp. Ransom is being a dick. shock horror🤷🏾‍♀️. (somebody give me motivation and ideas).

[pruneunfair]

Rashta and every other manhwa mistress/OI protagonist represents us in some ways.

In celebration of season 4 of TRE being released (dear God I'm not ready for it wish me luck) I wanted to talk about Rashta (I know, how many times have I made Rashta the center of my posts now at this point) But this time it isn't to critique the series or just unhinged ranting about things that annoy me.

Ive been reading a lot of remarried empress fanfics and of course there's are a few where a woman gets isekaied as Rashta, and usually, the isekaied woman gets on her knees and starts apologizing to Navier or showing horror everytime they get reminded that they were Sovieshus mistress, I also see a lot of comments on various videos saying "if I were Rashta, I would never steal Naviers man and become her loyal maid!" Or something along those lines. In general there's a lot of people saying that they would never be horrible and Navier would accept them as a result, but if we are being realistic.. Navier would not accept Rashta as her bestie no matter who was controlling her body, and even in an Au where she does, Rashta is her maid.. so even if Rashta hated Navier from day 1, what's she gonna do as a maid? Throw water on her cause that won't go well.

Now this isn't me saying "Oh Navier is so mean! She'd never look at a slave with compassion cause she's so classist!" It's what's realistic now that we aren't looking at it through the lense of a wish fufilment. Navier is an empress, an empress who was currently in a toxic relationship at the time, trying to warm up to her and shit talk Sovieshu to her is more then likely gonna make her feel just as uncomfortable when Rashta called her sister, because if you did do that, she'd probably respond with "why are you here then?" Or just a "alright.. please leave me alone now." Because your still her husband's mistress who she'd rather just not be around, and if we aren't considering that, she's still an empress who was raised with the kind of values youd expect: an exceptional leader and child bearer, considering that Navier too doesn't seem concerned with the slaves or even straight up poverty she wouldnt think it needs fixing because those were never values her teachers thought were necessary worries, only volunteery ones, and as empress Navier would be a little cautious and selective about her companions and ladies in waiting, this isnt just a fictional thing either, most empresses and queens in history didn't become friends with every fangirl she had. But there's tons of people today who believe otherwise.

Thats the thing, it's exactly what Rashta did, she put Navier on a pedestal and expected her to welcome her in with open arms and when Navier didn't do that, she immediately went to the conclusion that she hated her. Because a lot of readers only think of the main character as the best person, you get hit with a wave of betrayal when they do realistic human things which is another point in the AU where Rashta is sent to Navier and she somehow had the idea that Navier didn't need to go to the bathroom because she was so perfect.

And it's not just being her husbands mistress that will put her off, if you were just some stranger or even a noble who in the perspective of other nobles should know etiquette, you'd be looked at with contempt by many and yes while Navier would never do anything outright cruel to a stranger and maybe even have a conversation with one, there's a good chance she's not gonna wanna be best friends forever. So as a result, there'd be a good chunk of people who act like those super fans when their favorite celebrity won't give them an autograph: disappointment at best and down right hatred at worse. This is even a point I see in other OI when the ogfl isn't so perfect and the protagonist starts to dislike them for not being the picture perfect badass they thought.

While we all like say that we would never make the decisions of Rashta if we got isekaied as her, would we really? If you can then good for you cause you got some strong mental health there but for most of us, we'd probably be upset now that we are in another woman's perspective, a lot of people would feel angry that Navier isn't the mega goddess who would understand Rashtas situation if she spoke up, they'd be sad that Navier and Heinrey do have flaws that make them into actual people and not archetypes, and most of all, a lot of us would probably still end up on the path Rashta went on or anything similar since we would likely not know any etiquette beyond what we saw in bridgerton, there's a good chance too that the language in remarried empress isn't like any language in the world, and while you could just avoid characters like Duke Ergi (which i don't count on a lot of fans doing since hes a hot pretty boy) it'd be hard to find a happy ending as the villainess that doesn't result in your getting killed, kicked back out in the streets, or at best being kept as a breeding Mare. That's what Rashta is, she's a perfect example of what we think we would do Vs the likelihood of something more realistic and grim. Something that can bring the worst out of us if we felt wronged

Remember, this isn't me shit talking Navier or even the remarried empress in general, I just felt like I reached some sort of epiphany I wanted to share.

[josiesullysblog]

Don’t Underestimate Me.

~AGED UP Neteyam x reader

~Explict content, Neteyam is 22, reader is 21.

~Proofread?~yes

~Summary-You were always extremely close with Kiri. Growing up so close with the girl you were bound to meet her family. You always believed Neteyam to be so uptight and boring, you were so very wrong.

***

The night had started like any other night. You and Kiri often snuck out to hang out around the “spot.” Only kids around your age went, and no adults were allowed. A great place to cool off, and talk with friends after a long week.

You had just arrived with the girl, laughing, when you noticed the boy. Your eyes lingered on him, blatantly eye-fucking him. You would admit, you found the boy super attractive. You unconsciously fixed your hair as you walked to take your seat near him. His eyes were the first thing to drag you in, a sort of mystery, something many people miss at first glance. I mean, he was your best friend’s older brother, he was never at the spot, and always off doing some training with his father. He was next in line so much to live up to, yet your mind and body still wanted him.

The boy licked his lips, and a wish fell in your mind that it was your mouth he was licking. You were sure the boy had no experience with women. He was too busy with his duties, watching his siblings, and being the perfect son to be dealing with such things. Soon, you were to find out how wrong you were. You often imagined how it feels being his first time, his mate. How it would feel to be swollen with his child. Your mind was ahead of your body because as of right now, he believes you were nothing but his sister’s friend. And you were dying to change that.

You noticed the cup he held in his hand, you slowly made your way to him, watching him carefully. You gave a small smile as you sat next to him, “what are you drinking?” his eyes scanned your body, giving you a boost of confidence. “Nothing a little girl like you should be drinking,” you chuckled out loud, “there are no adults out here, give me a sip.” you had already assumed he would say no, as you watched him bring the cup to his mouth. His hands found their way to the back of your neck as he titled you back ever so slightly, “open for me,” to which you gladly did.

The drink burned the back of your throat as you took the drink in. With his hand on your neck and his breath almost fanning your face, you clenched your legs tight. You feared he or some other male would smell the scent of arousal that left your legs. Neteyam was no stranger to the smell that engulfed you two, just by your body language he knew where your mind was. He was willing to do anything to you, but he just had to be sure.

He brought his mouth close to your ear, “I see the way you clench, do you want me to fuck you?” his words caused your heart to speed up, “teyem,” you called him out by nickname causing a smile, “such a dirty girl.” your attraction had been found out, but he didn't push you away in disgust or politely decline your advances, he indulged in the way your body called out for him. His eyes called out for more. You had been the one making advances, the roles completely switch as a dominant energy waved off the boy. 

“Sage we are heading back now!” Kiri’s words rang reminding you of your current state. “Sage said she’ll stay back and clean with me, right?” Neteyam said as he removed his hand from behind you, “yea I’ll catch up with you later,” you turned and smiled at the girl, “alright!” she smiled back before leaving with the group.

Still turned as you watched everyone else leave, you felt a hand find its place around your neck, this time with a stronger grip. Out of reflex, your hand grabbed the larger hand causing Neteyam to coo at you, “you're just so pretty.” His other hand trailed down your body looking for somewhere to stop, he let go of your neck manhandling you to your knees. “You're a good girl, right?” you nodded your head looking at the bulge under his loincloth, “I’ll do whatever you want,” he smiled at your words taking his loincloth off and showing off the hard cock he had hidden.

You take the cock in your hand, rubbing up and down attempting to fit in your mouth. Before you could even lick the tip, he put his hand on your chin. “Open wide,” he shoved fingers in your mouth, “so ready aren't you?” you nodded as you sucked his fingers. He grabbed the cock, which was dripping in precum, and brought it to your mouth. You gladly let him control your head, as he played with you as if you were some disposal toy.

His moans echoed in the air, making you even wetter, “shit, Sage,” you slowly found yourself dragging your hand to your lower parts, rubbing the clit lightly. “Aw, are you that desperate? You can’t even wait for me to finish?” his words turned you on as he made your head go faster. His moans became high-pitched as his load fell in your mouth. “Don't waste a single drop,” following his orders you swallowed the whole thing, showing your tongue off as proof.

He pushes you softly into the grass, bringing his head down to your legs,“ so wet, just for me,” he smiled before digging his fingers deep into you, a loud moan echoing. He watched your lips as drool fell from them, you were too far gone to notice anyway. The pleasure continued as his pace sped up, “I’m gonna cum, Neteyam!”

He smirked at you, slowly taking his fingers out, causing you to whine, “no, please let me-,” he cut you off with a kiss. You returned it attempting to drag his hand back, he broke the kiss, “oh, baby you didn't think it was that easy, did you? I’ll let you come when I want, whenever I want. You are mine now.”

His words, in any sane person, would cause fear, but for you, it caused a small heartbeat in between your legs. “I wouldn't want anybody else,” you said smiling at him, “but you are gonna let me cum.” you assumed your words would make him return to in between your legs, but they only made him smile and walk off.

You followed behind the boy, screaming his name. But to him, this was only the first part eventually you would become his perfect toy.

***

Ya’ll I’ve had a lot of free time this week to write!! I was your comments from my last story, and I’ll definitely try and make a second part!! Hope you all enjoy this one!

[bamsywrites]

Flowers and Fire

Chapter 2: 'Ella and Almond

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x OC, future! Aegon ii Targaryen x OC

Tags/Warnings: fluff, childhood friends, shitty parents, angst ish, mostly just cute friend stuff

Notes: in this fic people are aged up a bit, Viserys is sick but not decaying yet, and Aegon is an asshole but not a rapist. Sorry if this is OCC or badly written. Please leave comments or criticism. My asks and inbox are open

Previously: Prologue

Aemond watched the waves crash against rocks, salty tears spilling down his cheeks and he could taste them on his tongue. He did not know what he had done to make them hate him. His nephews, his brother. Simply for not possessing a dragon. Aemond the Dragonless they had called him when he entered the hall for supper, snickering amongst each other. Aegon had even bonded with them over the shared torment.

"Why are you crying?"  A voice spoke out against the quiet of the night.

Aemond quickly wiped his eyes, sniffing as he sat up. He looked over the intruder, a young girl maybe a year younger with thick curly hair and striking green eyes. He could see she was missing several of her front teeth causing a bit of a lisp.

"I was not."

"You were too, She spoke brightly, sitting down next to him. "Is it because you don't have a dragon? I heard the other princes teasing you for it earlier in the courtyard."

He continued to look at her in silence, not sure what to think of this girl. Was she here to tease him too? Another cruel prank?

"I don't have a dragon, and I don't think there's anything wrong with me."

"You're not a Targaryen." He spoke bluntly, glaring at the young girl.

"No, I'm a Tyrell. I live in a place called Highgarden, and there are flowers everywhere, but anytime I try to tend to a garden, all the flowers die. I'm also a girl, and I'm supposed to like stitching, but I don't. I hate it, and I'm bad at it because every time I poke my hand with the needle." She flexed her fingers as she spoke, and Aemond could see little nicks and scars confirming her story.

He continued to sit in silence, staring at her. It was kind of jarring, going from nothing but the sound of the waves to hearing this other person who seemingly has no boundaries. A bundle of weirdly cheerful and optimistic energy in a pale pink dress. It had been mere moments but he already knew he'd never met anyone like her.

"But," she continued, "I did find things to be really super good at it. I draw, my penmanship is perfect according to my septa, and I'm good at remembering things which might not seem like a feat, but I remember dates and people and family sigils, my father says I'm like a walking history book. That's what you must do, find something else to be super good at."

Aemonds eyebrows furrowed,  wheels in his head turning. Of course, it mattered that he didn't have a dragon. He was the son of the king. It was a disgrace for him not to have one but a small voice said perhaps she was right. Maybe if he put more effort into his studies or using a sword then he would outshine the rest. Maybe he could still prove his worth without one, though his heart longed for one and there was a pull in his blood to find one.

"They would not care. They'd still tease me," he spoke finally and it was the truth. They would continue to tease him no matter what he did. It seemed to be the only thing the other boys liked to do; it truly was something that bonded Aegon with his nephews, it seemed. A shared torture of Aemond.

"But why do you care?" She asked with a tilt of her head and her eyes narrowed slightly as she awaited his answer.

She seemed genuinely interested in his answer, in him and his feelings. It was weird. Why would a stranger care? There had not been another child who did care; when other children visited The Keep, they almost always joined in with the others in their torment. Or they simply ignored him altogether. He thought over her words; their taunts affected him mainly because they were right. He was different. How could he be feared or respected if he had no dragon?

He could feel the emotions in his throat, making his voice sound thick as he tried not to cry. "Because they disrespect me! Because...because they're right. I'm different."

"That's true," she nodded, "You're different, but why is it bad? They're boring. My mama always told me that people were only rude or mean because they had no other way to be interesting. Mama was right. Your brother, your cousins, they aren't interesting or unique. They're mean because they have nothing else to be, it's all they have."

"They have each other. They have friends."

"You have me. I'll be your friend."

"I don't even know your name."

"My name is Avella. Avella Tyrell. And you're Prince Aemond. Now we can be friends."

~

"Are you even listening to me?" Lance Tyrell stared at his daughter across the table in their guest apartments in the Keep.

Avella nodded, her eyes focused on the deep red liquid in her goblet as she sloshed it from side to side. This was a nightmare. She spent most of her life avoiding Aegon if she could,  she's not liked him for one second. She had watched him tease his little brother relentlessly, watched him drink and whore his way around the city and the castle. She'd heard the whispers of noble women being rushed moon tea after they fell for his advances.

And now he was to be her husband.

"It's a good match. He's the firstborn son of The King," her father went on to explain rather matter-of-factly, not seeming to notice or care about the turmoil going on in his daughter's mind.

"The other vassal houses' faith in the Hightowers is crumbling. They've always looked to us as an example during those times and this will reinforce their loyalty to the Hightowers as you are marrying the grandson of Otto. It will strengthen our position," he continued after he received no response.

It felt like the world was crumbling around her, Avella started nibbling the skin of her inner lip and shook her head. "I do not wish for this, father." She spoke softly, barely heard across the table.

"Avella," Lance sighed in exasperation, his hand running over his beard. "This is what is needed for our family. One day we may be the Liege lords, with many vassals under us, and this connection to the crown is invaluable. The Hightowers are simply buying themselves time with this union before they fall out of favor."

Her silent gaze caught his, swallowing back tears as she silently pleaded with her father to take back this proposal and marry her off to someone else. Anyone else. She'd rather go live in the cold and snow of the North. She knew her duty, that she'd never marry for love and that was something she'd long ago come to terms with despite any girlhood fantasy of being swept off her feet. But she wanted to marry someone kind or honorable, someone who, at the very least, would show her respect and guard her dignity.

Aegon was neither kind nor honorable, he would disrespect her for sport and subject her to a slew of indignities as he would never be faithful to her or to stop spending his night lost in his cups. The most she could hope for was for him to quickly give her children and then leave her alone, a rather sad and lonely way to spend the rest of her days.

The thought of living at the Red Keep filled her with dread as well. Everyone was fake, perhaps not Heleana or Aemond but neither of those two seemed to want for a friend or company. The only company she could hope for would be that of the noble ladies and she couldn't stand them as much as they couldn't stand her. Talk of gossip, gawking at cute knights or lords, sewing dresses, the fake friendliness they all exuded, she wasn't suited for it. She would rather spend time with her friends at home,  Jeyne and Cait, who would go on walks with her or draw and read with her, whom the conversation extended past which Lord had taken a mistress that week.

Not to mention it was hotter than she was accustomed to.

The silence between them grew thick and uncomfortable. Lance had not seen his daughter as an independent person since she entered her teen years, moving from an attentive father who seemed to relish in her company to a man who wanted to marry his daughter off to be the broodmare for some noble lord and bring the family new connections. She missed when her father was her papa, when he would play with her and read to her, when she felt safe with him. She looked at him and wondered where that man had gone. Had she done something? Was he deceiving her all along? Was it perhaps something else entirely? It mattered not,  this was the reality she was faced with. It may just take a moment for her to come to terms with it.

"This is the best you could ask for, truly." Lance tapped his fingers against the table and took a swig from his wine. "And, in time, you will become queen."

His last words came slowly and her brow furrowed. Rhaenyra was the heir; everyone knew that. King Viserys had made that clear. Even if she wasn't, Aegon was not meant for the throne. He couldn't be a good king, he didn't know how. There wasn't one good bone in his body. The discipline it would take, the self-control, was something the prince had never possessed.

"Rhaenyra is heir," she answered simply.

Her father chuckled and shook his head, "The realm will not accept her. Law and tradition all dictate that the firstborn son shall take the throne. Once Viserys is dead, Aegon will take the throne and you will be his queen."

"And if I do not wish to be queen?"

The question made the tension boil over; Lance slammed his goblet down on the table. "You will marry him, you have no choice. You are my daughter, you will do as I say."

She swallowed thickly, standing up as tears welled in her eyes. "I'm glad it has served you so, father, that I was born a daughter and not a son." Without another word, she pushed past the guards and left the room.

~

She paced back and forth, fidgeting with the ring on her finger. The only thing lighting the courtyard was the stars and the light of a few torches. Her room felt suffocating, the pitied looks of her handmaids made her stomach turn. It wasn't hard to sneak out and use pillows to make it seem she was asleep in her bed. Her fingers twisted her ring as she thought.

Perhaps she could run away? She could cut her hair and bind her chest, giving herself to The Wall. She could steal a horse and ride for Dorne, hoping to be shielded there from her father's cruel agreement. Or board a ship and sail far away to some distant place in Essos. Anything to get away from this place. To get away from her future, it made her feel like she was suffocating or being buried alive.

Aemond had arrived at the courtyard with the same purpose. He'd heard the news whispered by servants, and he had his mother confirm it. His world came crashing down around him, though he was better at hiding his inner turmoil than most. His feelings for her, he was starting to recognize, were more than mere attraction and had evolved from the friendship of their youth. He didn't label it yet, afraid to speak into existence because if he did, then it might hurt more. He didn't know if he could stomach seeing Aegon with her, not just because of his feelings towards her,  but because he wanted better for her. He wanted a husband who would see her for what she was, who would respect her, hold to his vows, and be a friend to her.

Aegon would be none of that.

He wanted fresh air, he wanted to hit something really hard with his sword. He wasn't expecting to see her out here as well. He watched silently for a moment, the feelings of anxiety radiating from her were so palpable he could almost taste it. Would it be inappropriate to approach her? After all these years of avoiding her and the distance that had grown between them, it was hard for him to imagine her wanting him there.

His resolve was broken when he saw her lip quivering and her arms wrapping around herself, the sound of the broken sob in her throat that she was trying desperately to silence. He didn't touch her; he simply stood there for a moment until she noticed him.

"Prince Aemond," she straightened up, wiping her eyes quickly.

He swallowed at the formality of her response. "I remember a time when you only addressed me as 'King Almond', even in letters," his voice was soft as he moved closer to her.

Avella laughed at that, eyes still watery from her unshed tears and her throat thick with sobs yet to come, " 'Ella and Almond," she said softly referring to their childhood nicknames.

"You were always the more creative of us," he smiled a rare sight for most but something that was all too common around her.

"I had to be creative. All you did was brood in the library; it would have been dreadfully boring if I hadn't," she smiled softly at him.

A smirk tugged at his lips, "Are you saying you found me boring?"

"You insisted on reading the texts in High Valyrian. I do not speak High Valyrian."

He couldn't help but laugh softly and she joined him. Her tears seemed to subside and he just watched her a moment. She looked beautiful; in the stars and moonlight, she looked like a goddess.

She was a goddess to him, he'd worship at her alter for eternity if only she allowed.

"Mother told me the news."

The last sentence seemed to change the atmosphere between them. He didn't know why the words pushed past his lips when they were so obviously enjoying each other's company. Perhaps it was self-sabotage, hurting himself now so as not to open himself up to hurt in the future.

Her smile faltered and she looked at the ground, a sobering return to reality. "Oh, yes," she wet her lips. There was no use forcing a smile, Aemond would see right through it.

"I..." He didn't know what to say. Apologize? It wasn't his fault and he knew she would remind him as much. Confess his feelings to her? That was crazy and would just make her feel worse or push them further apart. Offer to take her away to Pentos where they can wed in secret? That was even crazier.

"I do not wish to continue with this silence if you are to live in the Keep," he confessed, and it was true. "I have missed your friendship."

Avella nodded, "As I have yours. I have been dreading the loneliness and boredom of this marriage, having my dearest old friend back will make it all the more bearable."

Dearest old friend. Aemond smiled at that, nodding his head. "I think it would do me good as well to have you here again. You have always been kind and caring. A gentle soul would do me good."

She nodded her head, her heart felt full as he talked of her so fondly. She had been worried he no longer cared or that perhaps she did something to ruin the friendship. Questions of why he had shut her out flitted through her mind but she pushed those back, promising herself to ask another time.

"As for boredom, perhaps I can help with that too. You will be a Targaryen by marriage; I think it would do you well to learn our histories. I know how history has always been of interest to you." His words ignited a curiosity inside her belly, an excitement.

"Perhaps you could teach me your family's native tongue as well," Avella asked with a questioning gaze, wondering if he would refuse her request or not.

Aemonds eye twinkled, "Perhaps I could."

She felt emboldened that he accepted her first request, a sly smile tugging at the corners of her lips. "Perhaps you could teach me to use a sword."

This time Aemond chuckled softly, nodding his head. "Perhaps I could," he repeated.

It was incredible how fast it seemed their friendship was repaired. It felt the same as when they were young. The atmosphere, the banter, it was easy, and it seemed to simply click back into place in mere moments.

Avella felt relieved that she would not be alone here, that she had her dear friend back. Aemond alone would not be able to cure the loneliness that she was sure to come in her marriage, and she would still miss her friends at home, but it was better than nothing. It was better than simply being stuck with Aegon forever.

"When is the ceremony going to be?" Aemond asked; again, the atmosphere became tense at the reminder, but Avella seemed to be feeling a little more at ease.

"Within the fortnight. We are waiting for my family to reach Kings Landing. My brothers and grandmother are to attend." She spoke, fidgeting with her ring again and worrying her bottom lip with her teeth.

He simply looked at her for a moment. "While it might not offer much in terms of condolences, I will say I am grateful that you are aware of who he is. What is to come would be much more unbearable if you were not."

She nodded, shaking her head with a soft smile, "Ever the pragmatist aren't you?"

"It would be more harmful to you if I was dishonest and pretended that it wasn't what it was."

"I do not disagree. But we are speaking as if I'm marching to my death. Perhaps he will simply ignore me."

"Perhaps."

They fell into a comfortable silence. His presence was calming to her and knowing she had her best friend back eased her nerves about what was to come. It was that, mixed with the late hour and intense emotions of the day that caused a blanket of exhaustion to fall over Avella.

She yawned, looking at Aemond. "I must go to bed or I will fall asleep here. Will I see you tomorrow?"

He nodded towards her, "You will. Goodnight 'Ella."

Avella couldn't stop the bright smile stretching across her features and Aemond felt his heart stop at the sight.

"Goodnight Almond."

[dangermousie]

I forgot how gnarly it all was. If you think YOUR family is psycho...

The thing that is so interesting about XY is that she is very reluctant to let anyone in (I don't mean emotionally, emotionally she's like Fort Knox, of course, but in terms of even assistance) but that is because once she does, she commits.

I mean, 17's injuries are insane, he can't pay obviously, and as her friend points out, not only is he a higher ranked deity, the fact that he was systematically and horrifically tortured for years instead of being killed means there is some great hatred between vvvv powerful people and meddling in it may get you killed. And she knows it and ignores it utterly for a total stranger she didn't know existed a day before.

In a lot of dramas when we have a super devoted love interest, I find myself wondering "but why?" - why are you so obsessed with this person to a negating yourself degree - it makes no sense, pls see a therapist. But there it both makes sense (she ultimately saves his life, his health (insofar as it can be saved, I mentioned before I love that trauma in general lingers in this story and that means his scar and his limp stick), his sanity and his sense of being a man) AND also yeah, the narrative makes no bones his devotion is part of his coping with his trauma - there are no therapists in fantasy world and this is the healthiest possible way to cope anyhow.

God, so much therapy for everyone, and yet nobody will get any.

It also strikes me that the reason she's so tender with this hideous almost-corpse is because it's safe - not just because of physician x patient role being comfortable and familiar but because someone who can't even move or eat needs her - they can't leave, they can't have their own agenda, they can't do anything but need her and only her.

Evil bro almost got his wish and if he didn't stumble on Miss Magic Blood he def would have. The thing is, once again, I totally get why she eventually cautiously opens her heart a sliver to him - because if someone could be tortured and betrayed by their loved one this horribly and still retain capacity for love and kindness, not only is there hope for her to perhaps one day sufficiently get over her own trauma to be able to open up, but it shows if she chooses him, he will always treat her gently and kindly regardless if love sticks. Ultimately, what she truly wants in a man are two qualities above all: codependency (or dependency, she does not want to depend back) to the extent where she is always the most important and the sole consideration and kindness. And whatever other awesome qualities Cang Xuan and Xiang Liu have, they can never put her as an only cause and they are certainly not kind men. I love that she knows what she wants and goes for it; she understands her damage and its constraints.

[piedpiperart]

You Could Know Me pt 3

Chapter 2

Peter comes to with a gasp, sweaty and panicking as he lurches to the side to cough out whatever he swallowed in that horrible sea of green. His breathing is ragged, feeling like electricity burning through his body and ringing in his ears. Peter barely feels the hand rubbing circles onto his back or the other holding him up gently, leaning him away from where he’d puked. He groans, gasping for breath as he tries to get his body to cooperate.

Blinking the spots away from his vision, Peter opens his eyes to see a room he’d never been in before. His ears stop ringing in time with his spidey sense enough for him to hear someone talking to him. Something like “It’s okay,”he catches and thinks he recognizes the deep voice. 

“Strange?” Peter croaks, going along with the hands that push him to sit up in what feels like a bed. He hears a huff of air closer than he expected and blinks until he catches sight of black and white hair. 

“Yeah kid, it’s pretty strange,”The guy says and… that’s not Dr. Strange, Peter thinks. He’s younger than Stephen. Not that Stephen is old, Peter amends, hoping the wizard isn’t reading his mind or anything. But both of them are definitely older than Peter. “You’re doing good, just take a moment to breathe, okay?”

Peter hums, closing his eyes and taking deep, slow breaths. He sort of felt like how he did the night he got bit by that spider. “What happ’ned?” Peter rasps, opening his eyes again to look at the guy with him. He feels a bit better, but for some reason the thoughts aren’t connecting. His spidey sense isn’t freaking out much anymore, and Peter feels like he’ll be safe with the stranger. 

The guy pauses before saying,”What do you remember, kiddo?”

And Peter has to close his eyes again to think. He remembers Dr. Strange. Stephen. He was… there was the sand guy, the crocodile man, octopus iron man, and electricity guy. But… Aunt May. Peter makes a whimpered sound before he can stop it,”A’nt May,”He frowns, bringing his hand to his eyes as his face heats up with tears. His head hurts. 

Peter feels the guy hold him close in what might be a hug, but Peter’s too out of it to think. His aunt is gone. She was… the last family member he had. Now he’s all alone. Is Dr. Strange gone too? Did Peter somehow cause him to leave like everyone else in his life? After his parents, uncle Ben, Mr. Stark, Mr. Beck, Aunt May… 

 But… Peter pulls away from the hug to look at the guy with him and he goes back easily. Peters on a mattress on the floor with a few blankets around him. They’re both sitting up against the wall, Jason bracketing him in to make sure he doesn’t fall off. “Who’re you?”

The guy sighs,”I’m Jason. Do you remember how you got here?” He asks hesitantly, and Peter remembers the last spell, only… The green. The green was everywhere. He doesn’t remember anything after that.

“Green,”Peter whispers, hugging himself tighter, careful not to dig too hard into his skin with his super strength. “I- there was green an- and I couldn’t breathe-”

“Hey, hey it’s okay, you’re okay now,”Jason soothes, but winces. “They put you in the Lazarus Pits.”

“What?”Peter looks over with wide eyes. He didn’t know what that meant. He was pretty sure Stephen’s spell went wrong somehow, but that didn’t explain the green water. Was Jason an alternate version of Strange? Peter squints, but no, Jason doesn’t seem familiar at all.

“I know,”Jason starts,”It’s not pleasant to remember. They uh, they put me in the pits before,”Jason gritted his teeth. He knew Ra’s had cameras everywhere, and would try to separate the two of them if he told Peter too much information. Jason was lucky enough to convince Ra’s to let him see the kid on the grounds of managing Lazarus' rage.“You seem to be handling it a lot better than I did though. I came out with a lot more anger issues.”

Peter looked at him bewildered, then looked to himself as if to see any signs of uncontrollable rage. Was he gonna turn into the Hulk, Peter wondered a bit hysterically. The only thing that felt different was the weird buzz of energy under his skin and the itchiness in his wrists. His teeth felt weird too, but he was trying not to think about it. 

“Look, it’s gonna be a rough time here, but I promise I’ll protect you however I can,”Jason says seriously, a sturdy hand gripping Peter’s shoulder. He has to resist leaning towards it for the way it grounds him. “I can’t tell you everything, but you need to know a few things about where you are. Keep your head down, do everything I tell you and avoid Ra’s if you can, got it?’

“What- why?” Peter croaked. He was starting to get a headache, and the lights in the room seemed too bright. Jason wasn’t setting off his spider-sense, but Peter could barely wrap his braid around what he was saying. “Where am I?”

Jason frowned, looking at Peter with something akin to concern. “You’re in the League of Assassins base, in Nanda Parbat,”He said, oblivious to the look of unrecognition on Peter’s face. “Listen, you’re gonna be trained here. It’s going to be rough but it’ll be worse if you don’t cooperate, understand?”

“Why? What do they want with me?”Peter rasped. He figured something must have gone really wrong with the spell if it ended with him being kidnapped by assassins. Was it some sort of recruitment thing? Kidnapping kids to make assassins, Peter pondered. He didn’t know how he’d escape this place, but he’d play it safe for now and follow Jason’s lead. 

“It’s not important,”Jason said, getting up. Peter squinted though the bright lights, looking over the man. Something was off, but he didn’t know what yet. “Come on, get dressed. It’s better to be prepared.”

Despite feeling overall like crap, Peter was glad to start moving, and had started feeling restless after just sitting for so long. Part of him wanted to climb the walls and hang out on the ceiling, but he shut those thoughts out. He wasn’t sure how safe it would be to reveal his powers in a place with assassins, and Jason might not take it well. He stood up easily enough, avoiding the puke from earlier with a wrinkle of his nose. 

“Feeling okay?” Jason asked, hovering close by. “No uncontrollable rage?” 

Peter snorted. “No, I’m okay. Just.. tingly?”

“Tingly?” Jason parrotted, resisting the urge to mother hen the kid. 

“Like I have a lot of energy, I guess. It’s hard to focus or stand still,”Peter explained, taking to pacing around the room. It was kind of small for two people, but he could see that it was more like a fancy jail cell.

“Alright, well, if you feel any different let me know,”Jason added.

Peter nodded, choosing to trust Jason for now. He got up on shaky legs and Jason handed him a pile of black clothes. They looked similar to the ones Jason was wearing, and Peter was pretty sure it was some sort of assassin uniform.  Looking around the room, he could see that it was pretty bare, nothing to use as a weapon either, he noted. Jason guided Peter and his shaky limbs to the adjoined bathroom to change, where he tried to stave back the panic attack. 

Feeling the building headache, Peter turned the light off, seeing that there was still enough light for him to see in the dim room. He got dressed shakily, but as he got dressed he started feeling better. By the time he was done Peter felt as good as normal, not mentioning the building dread inside his chest at being kidnapped by assassins or the overwhelming grief of his friends and family. 

Peter hoped that the spell had taken him to some Assassin base on earth, but he wasn’t so sure. He hadn’t recognized wherever Nanda Parbat was, and he’d never seen anything like the green Lazarus waters. His top theories were that he was transported to another planet or another dimension. Given Jason’s appearance and Jersey accent, he figured it might be another dimension, or he was still on his earth. Hopefully that meant Peter could find some way back to MJ and Ned. 

Now dressed, Peter exited the bathroom feeling a bit better. He’d taken a drink in the sink and that helped the gross taste in his mouth. Peter turned to face Jason, who was pacing the room. He turned to Peter, shoulders relaxing in relief at the sight of him. “Ready?”

“Yeah,”Peter frowned,”What’s going on?” 

“I don’t know yet, but I wouldn’t be surprised if Ra’s wants a meeting,”Jason drawled, running a hand through his hair. 

“Why are you here?” Peter blurted. Jason looked at him in surprise, but he continued.”You have a Jersey accent.”

Jason huffed a laugh. “Yeah, I’m from Gotham. You and I are kind of in the same position here, kiddo. Only I’m supposed to be your mentor.”

“Mentor, for assassins?” Peter clarified. “I don’t want to kill anybody.”

“You might not have a choice,”Jason sighed,”I’ll do what I can, but we might not be able to escape for a while. There’s a rescue team on our trail though, so I wouldn’t worry too much.”

Peter’s eyes widened at the revelation. He didn’t know where Gotham was but he was glad Jason wasn’t an assassin. “Escape? I can help.”

“Don’t worry about it kid,”Jason said, putting a hand over Peter’s shoulder. “You just try to stay calm. This place can be a nightmare.”

Peter was about to ask more questions when there was a harsh knock on the door. “Speaking of,”Jason muttered, and he gestured for Peter to follow him. Swallowing his dread, Peter shuffled after him.

Turns out there was, in fact, a ninja on the other side of the door. They said something in a language Peter didn’t recognize, but Jason seemed to know and led them down the hall to the left. He couldn’t tell where they were going, but the place felt humid and hot despite the building air conditioning, like they were near a desert. 

Peter could feel the dread building when they walked through these giant ornate doors and onto a ridiculously extravagant marble floor. He scanned the room, not surprised to see various ninjas milling about, but wary when he spotted the man atop a throne at the center of the room. He froze for a second, seeing similarities of the throned man to the Green Goblin, and quickly averted his eyes. 

The Parker Luck really had it in for him now, Peter thought. Especially if the head of these assassins is anything like Norman Osborn’s alter ego was. He couldn’t get those green, manic eyes out of his head. When the man on the throne started talking, Peter could barely hear him over the panic in his chest. 

Peter was brought out of his head by Jason’s hand on his shoulder, and he glanced over to the man next to him. The throne man was talking with Jason in that other language, but Peter felt himself drifting. He probably wouldn’t have understood what they were saying even if they were speaking english. Jason’s hand gripped his shoulder tighter, almost growling out a response. 

A few moments later, Peter was happy to follow Jason out of the throne room. He was still in a fog, barely able to feel Jason’s hand on his shoulder or his feet as they touched the ground. All he could think about was the green. Green Goblin. Green water. He was drowning, and no one could help him because everyone he loved was gone. 

Something blurred in front of his eyes, and Peter blinked a moment later. He felt his arms move and- oh, Jason was holding his hands. He wasn’t safe, he needed to get somewhere safe. He didn’t know where he was, or how he got here. Everything was blurry, everything green, and he wanted it to stop. His head was spinning and- was he sitting down? 

Peter blinked and Jason was seated next to him on the bed. His hands- Jason was still holding his hands and talking. He was talking. Why couldn’t he hear what Jason was saying? He felt a tap tap tap on his hand and looked over to see Jason tapping his fingers, one by one. Why- Peter blinked. He could feel the warmth of Jason’s hands, and the rhythmic tapping helped. 

“Can you take a deep breath for me kiddo?”Jason was saying and Peter realized he was on the brink of hyperventilating. He followed Jason’s exaggerated breathing as best he could, but he was still having trouble. 

“You’re okay, I promise. Honestly, I expected you to have a bit more of a freak out than that,”Jason rambled. “Usually when my eyes turn green like that I go into a rage.” 

“What?”Peter rasped. Were his eyes green? Why? Was it because of the water?”My eyes are brown,”He said, a little uncertainly.

“They’re green now,”Jason said softly. “Lazarus pits do that, make your eyes turn green. If you get angry or too emotional, sometimes they glow.”

“This sucks,”Peter breathed. He leaned over, putting his head in his hands. “Who was that guy? On the throne?”

“Ra’s? He’s the head of the assassins around here. Has control over the lazarus pits, and that makes him important,”Jason frowned. “If you can, avoid him. You spacing out during the meeting worked in your favor, and I was able to talk him into letting me stay with you for a few nights to adjust.”

“What does he want from me?” Peter groaned. If it was to recruit him as an assassin, he’d fight hard to get out of here. There was no way he’d kill someone, especially not on purpose. Which meant he had to hide his enhancements. If it got out, Ra’s would no doubt see it as an asset. 

“Ra’s wants another soldier,”Jason grimaced. He looked over to Peter, who glanced up at him with big hazel-green eyes. “I won’t lie to you, training will be tough. I’ll help you however I can, but I won’t be your only mentor.”

Peter decided, then and there that he wasn’t going to reveal his powers to anyone here, not even Jason. If anyone knew, Ra’s might go to greater lengths to keep Peter under control. He knew what happened to Bucky, and he would do whatever he could to keep that from happening. Peter would do anything to keep himself from killing anyone. 

Chapter 4 coming soon

[kallietell]

AITAH for Telling my Roommate She Got Fat? (WG Fiction)

*This post is written in the style of a reddit 'Am I The Asshole' Post, a forum where people can get advice from strangers about whether they were in the wrong in a given situation. I hope you enjoy!*

AITAH for telling my roommate how fat she got?

Throwaway account cause I don’t want my roommate to see this, but the title pretty much says it all. I’ve been living with this girl, let's call her Ellie, for about 3 years. She was overall a pretty good roommate (never really had anyone over, always did her half of the chores, etc.) but the kinds of habits she's developed lately are driving me up the wall. 

I don’t mind sharing my space (duh, I have a roommate), but to me, sharing a space should be 50/50, it should actually be EVEN. My roommate and I have a good amount of storage in our kitchen, but between the cabinets, drawers, fridge, and freezer, Ellie has slowly taken up more and more space with the insane amount of food she's been buying. We’re at the point where 90% of the stuff in the kitchen is hers, and it's literally so annoying to have to search through her mountains of junk food just to find my veggie straws. 

There's always piles of food everywhere, I swear she gets deliveries twice a day, and it's not that I mind the mess as much as I mind the fact that I barely even have any snacks and I have nowhere to store them. 

I was pushed past my limit two days ago when I opened a cabinet and a box of cookies literally fell on my head from how full it was, and I wrote her an email (we always have serious financial/practical conversations over email to leave a paper trail) explaining that her situation was getting out of control and she needed to be more considerate. 

Yes, I was a little mad when I wrote it, but everything I said was true and I feel like holding it back would’ve just been passive-aggressive. She got super upset after reading it and told me I was fat-shaming her. Was I wrong for telling her the truth and letting her know how I feel? 

Edit (11/08): Everyone keeps commenting that they need to see the letter, so I pasted it below:

Ellie,

I’m writing this over email because we’ve had this conversation a million times and nothing’s changed, so if it keeps being a problem I'm sending this documentation straight to the landlord and letting him know you’ll be paying a higher split of the rent. 

I wanted to make you aware that your super-double-chocolate-chunk-whatever cookies just fell out of the cabinet when I opened it and almost hit me in the eye, and this wouldn't be happening if every cabinet wasn't crammed full of all the junky food you’re always stuffing your face with. I hate to have to be the one to tell you this, but you so clearly have a problem. When you moved in you weighed like 100 pounds and then you started eating like an absolute pig and just blew up. When my mom came to visit last month she didn't even recognize you, she asked me ‘Where's your roommate’ after you waddled out of the room with your bags of chips. 

You’re actually such a disgusting slob, just a few years ago you were thin and fit and now you sit on the couch with your blubbery gut hanging out and eat until you can't even move. Watching you explode while you gorge yourself on all the snacks you fill our kitchen with honestly makes me sick, it motivates me to go harder in the gym so I don't end up a flabby blob like you. 

Every part of your body is like a warning sign: your chubby, swollen cheeks and double chin, your pudgy arms and hands, the way your thighs are getting so thick you can’t even squeeze yourself into the loveseat anymore, it's just humiliating for you. Or it would be if you cared about anything other than stuffing your face with like 5,000 calories every day. You're actually starting to look pregnant, it's like your entire body was inflated with fat. 

You have to be real with yourself, cause the denial just isn't cute. You’re a fucking whale, and I tried to be patient with you cause you’re clearly going through something, but I’m sick of you waddling around this apartment and taking up all the space in the kitchen. Just because you take up so much more space doesn't mean your food needs to. 

I suggest you diet, immediately, but since I know you probably can’t, at least start keeping your snacks in your own room. Or like I said, I'm telling Tim. And you know he already reached out last month because of the downstairs neighbors' complaints. I covered for you and didn't tell him that all the stomping is just your fat ass waddling around like usual, but if this doesn't get fixed, I’m snitching about that too. 

I’m really just trying to help you, cause if I got that fat that fast I would want someone to tell me too. Watching you try to cram yourself in all your old clothes is just painful, and the bigger you get the more ridiculous you look, everyone thinks so. When my boyfriend was over to watch movies and you were getting a pizza (as usual), he asked why you never wear clothes that fit. It was so mortifying to watch you jiggle just from walking across the room. Your entire gut was hanging out and your whole body was wobbling like crazy, you looked like such a cow. 

Every time I see you you're fatter and every time I see the kitchen there's more junk food piled in the cabinets and on the counters. You need to get yourself under control. I literally got injured cause of how fat and greedy you are. Either stop stuffing your bloated face, pay a higher share of the rent, or just move into a buffet so you can eat yourself into immobility like I know you probably want to. 

Your enormous, fatty body is my worst nightmare and it should be yours too, but instead, you just keep eating and eating and eating. I bet you're eating right now while you read this. Wipe the chocolate off your face, get up, and reorganize the fucking kitchen. 

-Courtney 

Edit (11/10): Everyone voting YTA after I posted the letter needs to learn to read. I didn't ask if the letter was mean, I asked if I’m the asshole for telling her how fat she got. I constantly comment on her weight and give little hints that she’s getting big (in order to help her), but I’ve never told her just how big. I just thought maybe it was rude to describe in detail just how far she’s gorged herself into obesity, but I don't even care anymore, she needed to hear it.

*This was a little experimental flash-fiction in a really fun style that I loved:) For more fiction stories, weight gain POVs, and even weight gain audios, you can check out my Patreon, Thanks so much for reading!*

patreon.com/KallieTell