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missmonsters2 · 1 year ago

Text

Mirror, Mirror | One

Please do not copy, repost, or translate my work anywhere else.

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Fem!Reader

Summary: The thought of something more had never really crossed Wanda's mind when it came to you. Best friends for 10 years and there hasn't even been one instance of accidental sexual tension. You're her best friend, that's all—until someone points out that you obviously have a very specific type when it comes to dating.

Warnings: best friends to lovers. shenanigans. jealousy, jealousy. sexual tension. pining. yearning. sexual thoughts. spicy (tumblr's version). stupid steve. neurotic nat. brat & stinky. bug as in shutterbug.

*explicit version will only be available on Ao3 & will be posted there after series is completed*

Note: i'm back!!! Nothing like coming back and posting a mini series. Enjoy this superior trope. Updates will be on Tuesdays! As you can see, we're trying something new with explicit content lol 😬

Reminder there's no taglist but you can follow my library blog for notifications 💘

Series Masterlist || Library Blog || AO3

Count: ~4.1k

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It's strange how sometimes a single sentence can change someone's entire life.

Wanda's thought about what sentences could change her life—usually, they're morbid and depressing.

'You have cancer.'

'Someone you love has died horrifically in an accident.'

'Your cat actually finds living with you miserable and would prefer the dangers of living in the streets.'

Never in a million years would Wanda ever think it'd be, 'Hey, have you ever noticed how your best friend exclusively only dates girls who look like you?'

And don't get Wanda wrong. It wasn't a morbid or depressing change; it was just...a change. An irrevocable change because now, Wanda couldn't stop thinking about it or noticing it.

This was all Steve's fault.

Because if someone like Stupid Steve could notice something like that, it had to mean something, right? But as Wanda remembers about the past girls you've hooked up with and brought around, she doesn't know what to make of it.

A part of Wanda wishes she had never talked to Steve that night at the bar.

"Where's Vis?" Steve asked, looking around.

"With Tony playing pool, I think," Wanda shrugged. She doesn't particularly keep track of where her on-and-off boyfriend goes. She thinks they might be on an off-period right now, anyway.

"And where's—oh, nevermind, there she is," Steve started to say but cut off when they both saw you across the bar talking with the bartender, flirting over drinks—which were probably free if Wanda could guess.

Wanda's slightly annoyed because it's been a long week without seeing you, and Wanda's been used to seeing you almost every day for the past several years of her life. But you've been gone on a work trip this week for a wedding shoot and only came home just a little after lunch and needed an immediate long nap before tonight's get-together.

That meant Wanda was sorely missing out on best-friend time, and now you were off flirting shamelessly with the hot bartender. Wanda's rooting for you, make no mistake. The bartender is definitely easy on the eyes, luscious hair, and lips—something Wanda knows you're weak for.

Plus, Wanda's worried you're not anywhere near getting close to settling down. She wants you to be in a happy, fulfilling relationship. But she supposes she's in no position to talk herself.

Wanda loves Vision without a doubt, but their relationship is definitely chaotic, and Vision keeps pushing for something more serious now that they've been dating (sporadically) for a long time. She's been considering it in her downtime and thinks it might make sense as the next step.

Best friends do everything together, right? So, maybe if Wanda decided to take the next step in a serious relationship, you'd find someone to commit to seriously as well.

Then, both of you could get married at the same time. Then, they could buy a house in the same neighborhood right next to each other. There'd be endless double dates and vacations together. Wanda wouldn't have to miss you.

But first, Wanda needed to regain lost best-friend time, one-on-one style.

"Hey, you know what I just noticed?" Steve said, breaking Wanda's drifting thoughts.

"What?"

"Bug—"

Wanda makes a face at your nickname. Granted, it was Wanda's fault you ended up with it back in your first year of university. You never let her forget it, especially now that you're a professional photographer.

"—over there has a very specific type she goes after for girls," Steve mused, sipping his whiskey before continuing. "I mean, they always have green eyes and brunette—wait, that's not true. She had two red-headed girlfriends in our last year of university. They still had green eyes, though."

"Oh," Wanda said, unsure what to say since she's never paid attention to the girls you were dating. On average, they were a brief fling, and only a few lasted longer than half a year. "I guess so?"

Wanda distantly thinks about how she dyed her hair auburn in her last year of university because she was looking for a change that year and Natasha was insistent that she'd look amazing. Wanda recalls you were a fan of the look.

"Yeah," Steve nodded along. "Ironically, they always look like you in some way. Check out that bartender now—long, wavy-haired brunette with green eyes. She's got thick, long lips and even does that dark eye-shadow makeup thingy like you."

Steve just laughed it off, finishing his drink, thinking nothing more of it before he started talking about Bucky.

But it was like something clicked into place in Wanda's brain. A daunting realization that she was wholly unprepared for and not equipped to do anything about.

Wanda watched as the bartender clocked off for the night and dragged you into a corner booth, drinks in hand. It gave Wanda the perfect view that the bartender wore many rings just like she did.

In the poor privacy of the dimly lit corner booth, there was a staunch and needy kiss from the two of you, and Wanda swallowed roughly.

From here, if you were none the wiser, Wanda could be easily mistaken for the girl in the booth with you.

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Sometimes, Wanda believes she's just being absolutely ridiculous. So what if you go after girls who share the same features as her? That didn't have to mean anything. You've always told Wanda she was beautiful, and it was perfect how you said it.

It didn't feel insincere or creepy. It felt good to know her best friend thought she was absolutely gorgeous. But just because you thought she was beautiful doesn't mean you harbored secret feelings for her.

You'd be insulted if you knew Wanda had ever thought that. She'd just be another one of those girls Wanda's seen you humble on multiple occasions when they found out you dated women, and they were worried you might have a crush on them.

But then, Wanda couldn't stop thinking she actually might be one of those girls because then she'd think about if you didn't consider her like that, it wasn't about her looks but something about her personality that wasn't your type.

And what could that be?

Wanda thought long and hard, trying to remember the girls you've introduced her to.

Sometimes they were funny, and Wanda was funny. She made you laugh all the time. She specifically remembered one time in high school when she made you laugh so hard you peed your pants just a little.

Sometimes they were intellectual, and while Wanda didn't have an IQ of 160, she did fairly well academically and was on the right track in her career.

Sometimes they were charming, and Wanda was the type where she got more charming the more you got to know her.

So, Wanda just doesn't understand. She's nowhere further with her thinking ever since this weird information has been bestowed upon her.

Maybe it all just means nothing. You just didn't feel that way about Wanda despite the type of girls you dated suggesting otherwise. You didn't need a reason for it, and maybe the fact you only felt friendship for her was the reason.

"Wanna order pizza in tonight?"

Wanda turns her head from the tv and notices you've put your book down. "Hm, not really. We had pizza last week," Wanda shakes her head.

"How about that Greek place that just opened up on Willington Ave?" You suggest. "Pretty sure I heard you grumbling about wanting Greek food earlier this week."

"I was not grumbling!" Wanda scoffs but smiles when you raise your eyebrow at her. "Okay, I was grumbling a little."

You snicker as you pull out your phone to order delivery. "Oh, sweet golden best friend of mine, whatever shall you do when you get married to Vis, who hates Greek food. Do I foresee a life of Greekless cuisine? Oh, the suffering you'll go through!"

"I don't need him to like it," Wanda slaps your arm, sticking her tongue out before she cuddles you. "I have you to eat it with."

You laugh unabashedly, a sound that Wanda's accustomed to hearing the joyful sound. "Better hope the person I marry also hates Greek cuisine. I don't know if I can live a life of eating double the Greek food. I love tzatziki sauce, but if I grow to hate it from eating it too much, I will make you suffer the consequences of that."

Your voice trails off as you focus on ordering food, unable to see the cogs in Wanda's head turning.

It's all so easy. There's no tension, no electric vibes happening. Just best friends enjoying the banter and making plans to eat.

It was all in Wanda's head, right? You're her best friend, so of course you'd know everything about her.

The right type of friendship is fulfilling and soul-connecting, and that's what Wanda has with you. When you have a one-in-a-million connection like that, the line between friendship and romance is thin, isn't it?

Wanda hates Steve. She'd never think about this if it wasn't for Stupid Steve. She can hear his dumb laugh, blissfully ignorant about the observation bomb he dropped upon her.

"Do you wanna get ice cream after?" You ask, throwing your phone to the side. "I'll even treat you to the gelato despite knowing I'm going to suffer through your crazy farts later."

"Oh my god, I'm going to trap you under the blanket with it just for that!"

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Within two months, Wanda forgets about it. Forgets, as in that she decides to drop it (let it linger in the deep depths of her brain that she refuses to acknowledge), and resolves that Steve has no brain cells and has no idea what he's saying.

"Have you seen my strapless black top?" Wanda shouts from her room with the door open. "The one with the v-shaped front!"

"In your closet!" You yelled back from the living room, not taking your eyes off your phone.

"I can't find it," Wanda whines, and she hears you sigh as you get up. The footsteps approach her room, and she finds you standing at the door with an unimpressed look.

"I don't want to hear it," Wanda sniffs.

"Hear what, brat?" You say with a brow raised before you start rummaging through her closet. The nickname was a joke you started that Wanda was entirely a spoiled person, exhibiting bratty behavior at times. "That I'm not gonna be your roommate forever, so you need to learn to fold it yourself before putting it away?"

Wanda makes grumbling noises that are mostly nonsensical but smiles when you pull out the top she was looking for.

"You are the apple of my eye, stinky," Wanda grabs the top from you before she runs into her washroom to briefly change into it.

"A match made in heaven, yeah, yeah," you roll your eyes with good humor. "Hurry up, Natasha will kill us if we're late for Yelena's birthday. They're on an upwards mend in their relationship, so she's been so unbearably uptight lately to make sure nothing goes wrong."

"I know, I know," Wanda mutters, carefully pulling the top over her head to not ruin her makeup.

"Alright, I'll hail us a cab, meet me outside."

"Wait, wait!" Wanda calls out. "I need help putting on my necklace."

You chuckle, walking back just as Wanda steps out of the bathroom with the delicate necklace she wants to wear.

"Alright, alright, relax," you tell her. "Your accent gets really strong when you're stressed."

"You're stressing me out by rushing me," Wanda scrunches her nose even though you can't see it. "I'm also stressed knowing that you have to rush me, or I'll spend the party getting lectured by Natasha."

Wanda's voice comes out husked with the accent, something she's struggled between hating or loving, but mostly loving since you've expressed how lovely it is.

You grab the necklace from her hand, and Wanda moves her hair out of the way. The routine of it all starts to bleed the tension out of her shoulders.

Then, that horrible Stupid Steve Sentence kicks into her brain.

It's only as you put your arms over, placing the necklace against Wanda's chest, and focusing on trying to get the clasp in. Wanda can feel your warm breath against her neck, summoning goosebumps along her arms. You're so close, and she can feel the heat of your body radiating onto her, your fingers just barely brushing against her.

The tension comes suddenly, squeezing inside her chest as her breathing slows and shakes. Her body warms in an unexpected way.

"Ah, got it," you say, but Wanda can only focus on your voice and breath on the shell of her ear. "Cute necklace but the clasp is so annoying."

You pull away and start walking off. "C'mon, I bet if we tip our taxi driver an extra $20 bucks, they'll speed and we can pray we're on time."

Wanda's left standing there, knowing she probably sounds like she's fresh out of Sokovia with how stressed she is. Her right eye twitches.

Was that...Wanda gulps. Was that sexual tension?

And was she the only one who felt it?

Fuck.

She's going to kill Steve.

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Natasha's absolutely neurotic when they arrive. It's just a simple backyard party, but it almost looks like a wedding venue with all the catering and flowers.

Wanda's pretty sure Natasha's only being like this because she's overthinking about whether to cling to Yelena or give her sister some space to mingle with others. She seems to be sizing up Kate, who Yelena might be seeing, but it hasn't been confirmed.

Yelena looks between exasperated with Natasha and secretly happy about the entire thing. Wanda can sympathize with her. After all, she's also a little sister, and Pietro can also be way too overprotective. Sometimes she's glad he's abroad in Europe for work while she remains in New York, but she misses him more often than she admits.

"Alright, alright, Natasha," you groan, and Wanda's mind slips back into the conversation. "We're 3 minutes late, relax, will you? Damn, are you always gonna be like this until you and Yelena get back into whatever sibling bond you had before? Hope you're just like this with us because otherwise, you're gonna scare away all her friends, and she's going to hate you."

"Oh my god, do you think she'll really hate me?" Natasha bites her bottom lip in worry while looking around at all the people that they can only assume she's nagged about being late or whatever mishap.

"Oh, man," you sigh, putting your hand on her shoulders before pushing her towards the bar. "You need some drinks and maybe some desserts in you."

Wanda's about to follow you when you turn around and nod your head in a different direction. She looks over and sees you're nodding toward Vision.

"You should go say hi to him," you tell her. "You've been complaining about not seeing him all last week, even though I don't know why you guys won't just FaceTime, but I digress. Come find me later, or I'll find you after."

You look over at Natasha, who's peering on her tippy toes to see if she can find Yelena.

"And, hopefully, I'll have ditched this nutjob," you whisper conspiratorially and laugh when Natasha turns around to smack your arm.

"I heard that!"

Wanda chuckles as you walk off with Natasha while she turns and heads toward Vision. Despite how she was complaining about not seeing Vision last week because she did miss him, her expression was sour as she made her way toward him.

Vision spots her immediately and waves at her with a warm smile. Wanda feels herself somewhat loosened at his expression. They'd also been friends a long time before they started on-and-off dating, so at the very least, she does miss his easy friendship.

"Hey," Vision hugs her, slightly rubbing her back before he pulls away but keeps his arm around her. "It's been a while; you look lovely."

"Thanks," Wanda smiles with a shrug. She looks around and sees he's standing with Tony and Pepper. "How are you guys?"

"Could be better," Tony sighs dramatically. "Natasha won't let me do any of my cool party tricks as if I'm going to ruin her little sister's party. If anything, I could make it the party of the century!"

Pepper rolls her eyes good-naturedly. "We were just talking about how we're thinking of going to the Bahamas for vacation in December and escaping the cold. We've invited you and Vision along since it's been awhile since we've all gone together. Of course, we can also invite Bug and Natasha."

"Oh," Wanda says for a lack of anything else to say. She doesn't know how to feel about it, but she peers over at Vision, who's just smiling at her and looking eager about it.

"I need another drink if I'm going to suffer through this party," Tony sighs. "Maybe I can convince Yelena instead!" He grins, dragging Pepper along, and they walk off together.

"So, what do you think?" Vision asks when they're alone. "I didn't want to reply on your behalf since I wasn't sure, but I think it'd be good for us. I've missed you," Vision pauses as if he's about his next words but then says, "a lot."

"Yeah, me too," Wanda starts to say, but then her brain gets all haywire because it feels like a lie. She did miss him, but did she miss him a lot? "I think."

"You think?"

Wanda wants to smack her forehead because she didn't mean to say that out loud. "I mean, I was complaining a lot that I haven't seen you in a while all last week."

"Yeah, work has just been overwhelming. I get so tired after work, I just can't keep up with the texting or calls."

But you can, Wanda thinks. Granted, you're her roommate, so it's easier. But even when you have to go on work trips, you regularly text her no matter what time and squeeze in a quick call, even if it's just to say goodnight.

The entire thing makes Wanda bite her tongue because why was she even thinking about that? That was completely irrelevant to Vision.

Then—because as if just thinking about you wasn't enough—her eyes trail across the room, and the scene before her makes Wanda even more confused about her feelings.

You're standing there with Natasha at the bar, but it looks like Natasha's calling someone over to introduce you to them.

Another brunette with long, wavy hair, like she just had a blowout done. Wanda's not 100% sure from this distance, but she has an inkling that the brunette also has green eyes. She's wearing a white halter top and wide-legged sage green pants. She wears a lot of rings, but her makeup is lighter and more summery compared to Wanda's darker, smokey eye makeup.

In short, this woman was the clean girl aesthetic version of Wanda.

And you look interested.

This was ridiculous, Wanda fumes, feeling her stomach sink and cheeks flare hot in anger. As quick as the anger came, it dissipated.

Why was she so angry?

She feels betrayed, and her thoughts are turning very ugly. Wanda is definitely not being a girl's girl right now with how much she's thinking she's better than the girl in front of you.

But that just makes everything so much more confusing.

"Wanda?"

Wanda turns her head back to Vision. He looks concerned, and even when his eyes trail toward what Wanda's staring at, there's no additional reaction. He's not upset that she's staring at you, and that has to mean something, right?

It must mean there was never a concern about how Wanda might've felt about you. Sure, there were a few things Wanda couldn't be without, and you were one of them, but nobody can't be without their best friend.

No one had ever blinked twice about you and Wanda.

Except now.

And that person was Wanda herself.

The more Wanda thought about the entire thing, the more she became curious. The idea of you dating people who looked like Wanda was intriguing. She wanted to ask questions but didn't know what to ask.

It might mean nothing, but it also might mean something.

And if it does mean something, Wanda wants to know what exactly it is.

Therefore, Wanda needs nothing in her way to find out the truth and exactly what she wants, regardless of the answer.

This was insane, wasn't it? Wanda's always been ambivalent about dating women. She's never gone out of her way to try it since she had Vision. Never mind entertaining thoughts about dating her best (girl)friend. And now, she was giving everything up in the pursuit of finding out what it could mean that her best friend was dating her lookalikes—and why she cared.

Wanda doesn't even know what she'll want to do with that information.

Wanda looks at Vision, peering at his features she's always found handsome. When she thinks back, she's not even sure why she complained to you about how she hasn't seen or heard from him lately. She hadn't even gone out of her own way to do something about it.

"I'm not going on the trip. I don't think I actually missed you like that."

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The girl introduced to you was named Raye, Natasha's coworker that recently moved from Nashville. It was also confirmed she has green eyes, though they had specks of brown in them. She was a southern belle with a bold attitude, witty, and a wicked sense of humor. All in all, undeniably charismatic.

At least, that's what you told her in private because all Wanda could feel was unrestricted aggravation with the other girl. The southern twang made Wanda's eye twitch, mostly because she knew you were head over heels for accents.

"And then before I knew it, I was panicked and more lost than a blindfolded turkey on thanksgiving!"

You burst out laughing while Wanda's expression is stony, but when you look at Wanda, she forces a smile on her lips.

"Hahaha," Wanda dryly let out. "So funny."

But it wasn't. What the fuck did that even mean?

Raye continues to talk while you listen with rapt interest, and Wanda takes the time to observe your features in a way she's done many times before but with a different mindset.

Your lips are curved in a smile, glistening from your chapstick. They're shapely, and they look soft. It rivals her favorite feature of yours, which is your eyes. They've always been so expressive with her, and Wanda's been around long enough that she knows what every expression means. She can tell when they glint with mischievousness or are soft with immense compassion and empathy.

"So, what did you think of Raye?" You ask Wanda as you leave the party.

"She's cool, I guess," Wanda answers nonchalantly.

The rest of the party was excruciating between Raye constantly hanging around you and Wanda also being too nervous to be alone with you.

"Really cool," you sigh with a grin. "Glad I got her number. It's been a while since I've met someone so funny."

Was she funny, though? Wanda wonders.

"Funnier than me?" Wanda finds herself asking.

"No one could be funnier than you, brat," you smirk. "I almost peed myself laughing again when you almost knocked off Yelena's cake. I thought Natasha was about to enter into a coma." You snicker while Wanda rolls her eyes with a smile.

"Glad I can always give you the biggest laughs, stinky."

Wanda glances over at your face, recognizing the excitement by the brightness in them. It's just another reminder that, as your best friend, she knows you like the back of her hand.

But lately, when Wanda watches you pick up girls, she can tell when they're heady with desire. That look hasn't been directed at her, and Wanda wants to know what it'd be like if it were.

Wanda recalls the night you kissed the bartender and imagines if it had been her instead. She pictures your hand sliding across her jaw and cheek while your other pulls her closer at the waist.

It's horrifying when a slow pit of arousal builds in Wanda's gut and...other regions. It feels utterly frightening and wrong like she's betraying the friendship for having and then reacting to such thoughts about you.

But there's another part—the part that tells Wanda there's nobody in this world that she loves more than you. The mere idea of ever being apart from you was unfathomable. Wanda could and has endured so many things, and it would always be okay as long as she had you.

So, knowing that Southern Belle Raye has the potential to be more than a one-night stand to you, Wanda realizes that she has a very small window to not only come to terms with her newfound feelings but also act on them as well.

If this didn't go well, Wanda would definitely murder Steve.

PART TWO

#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff x you #wanda maximoff imagine #wanda maximoff fluff #wanda maximoff x y/n #avengers imagine #scarlet witch imagine #scarlet witch x reader #wanda maximoff fanfiction #modern avengers au #Elizabeth olsen x reader #mm: my fics

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sykloni2 · 5 months ago

Text

I tried to list longer DP fancomics and comic series I was able to find. Description is included when I could find one written by the artist/author. If I am adding a note myself it's in the brackets below the description. These are not in any particular order except that crossovers are at the end of the list.

Please add links in the reblogs if you have more dp fancomics you know about -I'm sure this list is missing things! :D (Feel free to share recommendations for some one shot comics too, if you have favourites!)

Phantom in the mirror

[COMPLETED] by catesartsworks (tumblr)

After Danny loses everyone he loves, he is determined to seek out a ghost named Clockwork to reverse his fate.

(note: There is even pdf version available of this comic!)

Archetype

[COMPLETED] by Joe-the-Hoe (Deviantart)

Story set in AU where Phantom and Fenton are separate.

(warnings listed by the author: angst, death, violence, gore, psychological horror, some strong language)

Doppelgänger

Doppelgänger is set in an AU where the Disasteroid never threatened Earth (see: Phantom Planet) and both Danny and Vlad’s half-ghost identities remained hidden. It takes place after Dan makes a return, seeking revenge on Danny for imprisoning him. Once defeated by the young Danny Phantom a second time, Dan finds himself spending many months under the Fentons’ careful watch, mellowing out as a result. However, after learning about an old foe’s return, Dan realizes his problems are far from gone.

[COMPLETED] by eirian (tumblr)/skiltaires (webtoon)

A Matter of Time

by sarapsys (tumblr & AO3)

A look into who and what Clockwork was, is, and will become.

The Phantom Comic

by tsubaki94 (tumblr & webtoon)

Danny Fenton has returned to Amity Park after having spent years in Wisconsin at a boarding school and intends to have a typical high school life at Casper High. However the day Vlad Master comes to visit is also the day Danny’s fourteen-year-old life is turned on its head.

Amity Thereafter

by ep-10 (tumblr)/ 阿佑EP (webtoon)

A Danny Phantom fan manhua.

Good Vlad AU

by mfdragon (tumblr)

No one knows AU comic

by pricklenettle (tumblr)

Sam and Tucker never became friends with Danny, so he’s learned to deal with the towns new residents and the ghost attacks alone.

Souls of Stardust

by CorinnetheAnime (tumblr & Deviantart)

(note: To my understanding the comic will be mainly on Deviantart, but you can read at least the first 6 pages also on tumblr.)

Ectober Night

by okkennymay (tumblr)

(note: Older links between pages may not work, so you might need to scroll through the comic's tag instead.)

Danny Phantom: Recollection

by ghoulishautism (tumblr)

"Danny Phantom: Recollection" is a DP Fancomic anthology- loosely connected comics with the goal to reimagine Danny Phantom and its world. With a mix of popular fanon and personal headcanons, this comic aims to take DP places the original 2004 animated series couldn't.

(note: The website version of the blog is very easy to navigate!)

Lingering Spirits

by starlightshore (tumblr)

A Danny Phantom AU where Danny moves to Amity 2 years after the Portal Incident. Combo of Alicia Adoption (Farmboy AU) + Nobody Knows AU

Shared Cujostody AU

by duchi-nesten (tumblr)

Prison Ghost AU

by albinotopaz (tumblr)

After being trapped in Walker's prison for 16 years, Danny's friends get him out. But a lot has changed in that time.

Undercover AU

by artistfingers (tumblr & AO3)

Welcome to the Give Your Hidden Identities A Hidden Identity hijinks bonanza! a danny phantom no one knows AU featuring lots of silliness and maybe sometimes a little angst, focusing primarily on the newfound friendship between Phantom, Tucker, Sam… and Fenton. After a lonely year of ups and downs since becoming Phantom, Danny meets Sam and Tuck for the first time while stuck in ghost mode… trying, and failing, to fly under the radar.

DP Mechanic AU

by tatumsdrawing (tumblr)

This is an eventual Dash/Danny AU where Dash works part-time as a mechanic and Danny's car is going through it. Takes place their senior year of high school.

(note: mix of comic and fanfiction -both very good!)

The Amnesiac Ghost King

[COMPLETED] by ep-10 (tumblr)

Danny had no recollection of his past. It took him a year to adjust to his current state. He managed to find a few jobs and earned enough money to rent an apartment. As time passed, Danny's situation seemed to be getting better, that was, until the Guys In White came into his life.

Red Huntress

by sykloni (tumblr)

A comic that takes place right after Valerie has gotten her new suit.

(Fanning the Flames)

by starlightshore (tumblr)

My take on "Fanning the Flames!" While I like the OG episode, I wanted to take a different route on how it could go down, adding a focus on Ellie. (Danny's alternative timeline self)

(note: doesn't have a title so I put the episode title it's based on in brackets, I hope that's fine. This is a fun comic and I wanted to include it!)

Girl Out of Time

by lilianade-comics (tumblr)

Being set in the 1980s, Girl Out of Time is a prime opportunity for me to pay respects to the media of the decade. Dani's antagonist, the Extractor, is an homage to Terminator. I'm very fond of this AU because it fits so well within the boundaries of canon that I don't have to leap through many hoops to make things work. It cleanly replaces D-Stabilized as a sequel to Kindred Spirits, and I consider it a thematic successor to The Ultimate Enemy. Where Danny travels to the future for a second chance, Dani travels to the past.

(note: lilianade-comics has also a lot of other cheese melt comics and other AUs to check out.)

Ghost Hunter Family

by qianqiancandyjar (tumblr)

Secret Saturdays AU

The Fentons are supernatural investigators, ghost hunters as well as ecto-energy scientists. Danny and Jazz have been traveling all over the world with their parents to study all kinds of ghosts since they were born. Their goal was to keep the existence of ghosts in secret and protect humans from supernatural forces.

--Next some crossover fancomics!--

DP x SCP Foundation

by alen-lotz (tumblr 0 - 1 - 2)

(note: no master post so I'm linking the parts this far separately)

Half Normie AU

by spookberry (tumblr & Tapas)

“Half Normie AU” is just a Monster High/Danny Phantom crossover AU that I’ve been working on, with a big focus on Werewolf Tucker AU and a bit of Savant Par as well.

DP x ROTTMNT

by chasingrabbits-art (tumblr)

You Smell Like Death

by endouyuu97 (tapas)

DP x Gravity Falls.

(note: You might see the old version of the comic floating around in tumblr reblogs, but since it seems to be deleted by OP I want to respect that and only link the revamped version in tapas.)

Cold Front

https://coldfront.thecomicseries.com/

DP x Gravity Falls

Heroes of Millennium

by drawnfamiliarfaces (tumblr)

Secret trio + others

Age accurate secret trio

by beccadrawsstuff (Tumblr)

(note: couldn't find a working link to the beginning so you may need to scroll through the blog to find where to start reading)

Secret Trio Webcomic

by secretriowebcomic (tumblr)

Secret Trio

by squishy-lombax (tumblr)

(doesn't have a title)

[COMPLETED] by builtintripping (tumblr)

Nictoons unite

Fear of forgetting and being forgotten.

United

by chovomony (tumblr)

Nictoons Unite

5-years later

by The Ink Tank LLC (webtoon)

DP x Ben 10 + others

A cross-dimensional accident forces ghost-fighting superhero Danny Phantom out of a five-year retirement when his old arch-nemesis, Vlad Plasmius, allies himself with Eon, a time-walker on an endless crusade across the multiverse. With the help of the alien shape-shifting space cop, Ben 10, the Heroes must find a way to stop this mastermind. In a story of Morality vs Power, 5 Years Later brings together universes for an epic conclusion that takes them to the next level.

#danny phantom #dp fancomics #dp comic recs

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flamingpudding · 2 years ago

Text

Masterpost

I think I did enough writing on tumblr that this should be okay to do :D

Update status: 22.11.2024 Updated the existing List and added the Little Snippets Holding List

Account I use to reblog: @flamingpuddingreblogs

Ghost Kid in Ghotam

AO3 Link: Available here, so far [9/?] Parts updated

Warning for AO3: Parts / Chapters might have additional content or slightly changed content after editing. Since tumblr Posts are the Raw Versions.

1. The Beginning

2. Literal Angle Biter

3. Feral brother of mine

4. How to catch a baby brother

5. Thrill and Chirp brother

6. A dead but now revived Son

7. Interlude: A different perspective

8. Ghost Cult Guides and Light Silhouettes

9. Pit Demons aren't pets, now stop biting!

10. No work at the dinner table

11. One Step Closer

12. A Mother's Care

13. Interlude: A Brothers Protection

14. The secrets we keep for others

15. Green and Red Emotions, similar but not

16. ...

The Ghost King is my Uncle Drabbles

Original One Shot

Shovel Talks - Rowdy Cousin

It started with a Ouija Board

Ouija Board Prompt Idea

Ghost Hunting Vigilantes Part 1 Part 2

Summoning Gone Wrong

Modern (Fenton) Ghost Hunting Part 1

Ghost Twins: Lost in Gotham

Work in Progress...

Original Prompt

Sneak Peak

Drake's family secret

Part #1 #2

Cassiopeia and Orion

Part #1 #2 #3

Sort of completed Posts:

>>Posted Prompt Ideas / One Shot List

>>DPxDC Family Week 2023 Post List

-> AO3 Link: DPxDC Family Week Contributions

>>Fictober23 Written Prompts List

>>Little Snippets Holding List

#Masterpost

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dreamsofbroflovski · 1 month ago

Text

Kenny McCormick x Reader - i luv your girl

Also available on ao3!

Summary: Being stood up when you have the absolutely perfect anniversary date planned would be enough to send anyone spiraling and make them question if anything is even worth it at this point. Luckily for you, the perfect loverboy is willing to sweep you off your feet and show you a good time to help you make a decision.

Warnings: Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content (everyone involved is above the age of consent), Cunnilingus, Face-Sitting, Penis In Vagina Sex, Cowgirl Position, Semi-Public Sex, Cheating/Infidelity

A/N: Ugh, I am so fucking sorry. I had this thing like, 75% done on my Docs, and then something else on my life took complete chokehold on me and I couldn't make any progress on it at all for several days. I promise I'll try to write quicker and post more often in the future. Next up on the chopping block (I'm not actually chopping him up, though he deserves it) is Kyley-B, for a request (I'm taking those now) (Also sorry to the follower for taking so long to get to it I am a disgrace)

“Come on… Come on… Pick it up, will you…”

Clutching my phone in my hands firmly, close to my face as I stared at it with my eyes drifting between the ‘Call’ screen and the battery icon, I paced back and forth on the sidewalk. The sun shined bright and beautiful in the sky, still my mood was anything but - the nerves were exponentially starting to get to me, and I was on my last line.

It was supposed to be my two-year dating anniversary with my current boyfriend, and I had the whole day planned to perfection. Taking advantage of the fact that the weather forecast was announcing a very warm and sunny day - which is rare for our town -, I planned to spend the whole day with my man, starting off with a whole picnic in the park around the local pond. I was wearing my prettiest floral sundress and had a whole basket full of goodies to be enjoyed under the sunlight. Had made sure to arrive early and wait in a place that was of easy access for both me and my partner so we could walk to our destination together. It was all perfect.

Perfect, except for the absence of my other half.

For three hours now I had been waiting, sitting on a bench near a local restaurant that I usually frequent for lunch on workdays, looking around all the time for any signs of him, and he had not arrived. I called and called with my phone but they all went to voicemail, sent a bunch of texts that stayed on delivered - and worse, my battery was now close to dying out, since I forgot to charge it before I left, not thinking it was important since I didn’t plan on spending so much time on my phone anyway. It was currently running at 4% as I tried to call him as many times as possible before it died out and I had to think of another plan.

My heart skipped a beat as the call was answered.

“Baby? Baby! Where are you?” I exclaimed as I put my phone to my ear, my agitation clear on my voice.

*“Mmmmm… Hey, babe… What’s up…” *An extremely groggy version of my boyfriend’s voice came through the phone’s speakers, not nearly close to matching my anxiety.

“What do you mean, what’s up? Where are you?” My mind already had a faint idea of the answer, but I had a sliver of hope in my heart that it might be wrong.

“Huh… In bed.”

Of fucking course. “In bed? How? It's almost 2pm! We were supposed to meet three hours ago!” It was not my intention to scold him, but in my exasperation it sounded exactly like that.

A few seconds of silence from the other side of the call as my partner seemingly processed the information. *“Damn… Sorry, babe. I stayed up late gaming with the boys and slept through the alarm.” *He sounded slightly less groggy now, like my revelation was a shock to his brain, but not by much.

“I called you so many times, though!” I countered, “Why didn’t you pick those up?”

*“Yeah, sorry about that. I thought it was telemarketing or something.” *His voice didn’t carry a hint of remorse.

I took a deep breath, trying not to scream or make a scene right there on the street. The day was so beautiful, I just didn’t wanna waste it arguing. “Well, you’re still coming, right?” I asked, trying my best to sound patient and less accusatory. “Can you give me an ETA or something?”

“Babe, let’s just… Let’s just take a rain check, alright? It’s late already.” *He sounded as nonchalant as could be as he said that, as if the thing he was cancelling wasn’t our literal anniversary date. *“I promise I’ll make it up to you some other time.”

“It’s our anniversary, baby! I’m already here! What do you-”

With a jolly ringtone, the call was cut short. I put my phone in front of my eyes just in time to see the animation of it turning off on the screen, my battery breathing its last before the device died completely.

And then there was just me.

In small, shaky steps, I made my way to a street bench nearby and sat down, setting my picnic basket to my side and watching with glazed eyes as the cars went by on the street, still clutching my phone in my hand. After waiting for so long, making excuses for my boyfriend’s tardiness on what was supposed to be a date to celebrate the day our relationship started, a date I planned from beginning to end and made sure was completely flawless, it all went to shit in the span of one phone call that didn’t even get to end because I ran out of battery before it could. I was left alone, heartbroken, stressed and with no way of going back home except on foot.

Allowing myself to have at least one thing I wanted, I lowered my face, hiding it with my hands, and let the tears roll fast and plentiful. My whole body shook as I sobbed, all the nerves of the day taking physical form in the salty droplets running from my eyes, as I recalled not just how much of a bad current situation I was in, but all the previous disappointments in my relationship that I swept under the rug because of love. And, deep down, I knew I was likely to let the broom of my self-neglect swipe this one, too.

For what felt like forever, this was all that I had. One of the prettiest outfits of my life, a basket full of food, painful memories running through my mind, tears that didn’t seem to be able to stop running down my cheeks. Until I got something else.

“Hey… Ma’am? Miss?” A gentle male voice called near me, seemingly out of nowhere, bringing me back to the world of the living, so to speak. “Can I help you? Do you need anything?”

I shook my head, still not looking to the source of the sound, now feeling deeply ashamed of myself. Engrossed in my own feelings, I forgot this was still public space and someone was bound to question me at any time, considering how nosy people in this small town tend to be. “I’m fine,” my voice cracked a bit as I said it.

“I am pretty sure you aren’t,” The voice responded, with a sliver of irony, but still gentle, like he wanted to make sure I knew he wasn’t laughing at me. I felt a hand on my bare shoulder - calloused fingers shook it with just as much kindness as I heard in the voice behind them.

“It’s alright, sir,” I sniffled while trying to steady my voice, hoping my fake reassurance would be enough to make this unknown person leave already. “I’ll be leaving soon, don’t worry about it.”

“‘Sir’ is my dad,” He chuckled, “My name is Kenny. At least to all the pretty girls. So call me Kenny.”

His response took a small giggle out of me, even if my whole mind found it inappropriate to do so considering the circumstances. Whoever it was that tried to talk to me was actually making an effort to make things better, not just ask questions out of obligation or curiosity. Slowly, I wiped my tears away with my hands, answered him with my own name and lifted my face up, trying to put an image to ‘Kenny’. And put an image to it I did.

It was almost like the head and body of two different action figures smashed into one. From the neck down, it was simple and rather elegant. The man wore all black, as was common for that restaurant’s waiters; The usual dress shirt with the restaurant’s logo had its first two or three buttons open, making it just slightly more stylish. The charcoal gray apron wrapped around his hips was perfectly spotless like it had never been worn before, and he wore a pair of dress shoes that seemed to have been recently shined.

Once my eyes went up, though, everything seemed to change. His blond hair was styled in some sort of shaggy mullet. The very visible dark circles under his eyes came as a stark contrast to his laid-back posture and the youthful energy I just felt emanating from his body. On the matter of his eyes, I couldn’t pinpoint their color for the life of me; Some trick of the sunlight was clearly at play in them, because in some angles they were blue and in others I could��ve sworn they were lavender. Some tiny reddish nicks speckled his jawline and chin, likely from shaving and not doing a very good job at it. When his mouth was open, I could see that his teeth were slightly crooked, and he had a bit of a gap between the front two on the top row.

The things that were the most startling about his appearance, though, were the scars and piercings on his face, and those he had several of. I could count two eyebrow piercings, a nose ring, a single earring on his right ear and an industrial bar on the other that seemed to still be healing. On the matter of scars, all of them were healed and faded, but screamed gruesome stories; One on his upper lip that went up to end at the side of his nostril, another one on his temple, and a third, the biggest, started on the right side of his jaw and went all the way down to the start of his neck.

To be honest, I liked the look of the top part more than the bottom.

As he saw me looking up at him, the corners of his lips curved into a smile, a genuine one filled with kindness. “Wanna talk to someone about it?” He asked as he pushed my picnic basket on the bench away and sat to my side, leaning forwards with his face towards me.

“Ugh… No, I just…” My fingers ran through my hair in stress as I threw my head back, feeling my eyes burn with tears again and trying to chase them away so I could at least leave this situation and go home without further questions.

“Let me guess… boy troubles?”

It was a rather sexist guess on his part, but I wasn’t about to fight it, because he happened to be right. “How do you…?”

I turned my face to look at him and he pointed to my hand on my hair, where on my ring finger rested a thin silver band with my boyfriend’s name engraved on the inside. “You’ve got a ring.” Turns out he wasn’t being misogynistic at all. He was just too attentive, something I’m not used to.

With a sigh, I slouched forwards with my face down again.

“Now I’m curious,” Kenny admitted as he leaned back on the seat of the bench, resting his arms on top of it, “What kind of monster made a goddess like you cry like that?”

I shook my head again and pointed to his shirt, specifically to the restaurant’s logo embroidered on the uniform. “Don’t you have somewhere to be right now?”

“Don’t worry about it. The place’s practically empty right now. Most people are at the mall or at Stark’s Pond anyway.” He shrugged. “And besides… I shouldn’t tell you this, but my boss is acting kinda crazy thinking you’re scouting the place to rob. So me being here probably puts his mind at ease because now he has a witness.”

Great. Just lovely. Now, on top of my whole shitty life situation, I’ll also have to find all the workers at that place looking at me funny whenever I go in for lunch. “So you told him you’d come here to teach the possible thief a lesson?”

“No. I told him there was no way in Hell someone as adorable as you was up to no good.” It was the third compliment on my appearance in less than five minutes of interaction. Apparently he was the type of man to not be deterred by something as ‘insignificant’ as a woman’s boyfriend, and I wasn’t sure how to feel about that.

“Well, your boss can rest assured,” I said, “I was just waiting here to go on a date. No robbery plans.”

“That’s what I thought.” He nodded slowly. “But I saw you while I was working. You’ve been here quite a while. What happened?”

“Well…” I took a deep breath, trying to put it all into words without bawling immediately - it still didn’t stop some tears from falling and my voice from cracking as I finally spoke again, “Apparently, my boyfriend slept past his alarm and forgot our anniversary date.”

Sudden movement to my side had me startled and I looked up again. Kenny was on his feet, an exasperated expression on his face. “What a bastard! YOU’RE sitting here, looking like a fucking snack for him, and your stupid ass boyfriend is at his place sleeping when he could be ravaging you?”

This man sounded genuinely indignant, even if extremely crude - in a twisted way, it only served to fill my brain up with more thoughts that maybe I wasn’t being treated as decently as I deserved, because I found myself not wanting to dispute him or make excuses for my boyfriend’s behaviour, either. “Don’t put it like that…”

“I always put it in in many ways,” Kenny sat back down next to me on the bench, the double entendre he spat definitely understood and ignored by me when I tried my best not to laugh, “And the only thing your boyfriend there seems to be putting is stress on your shoulders.”

He put his hand on my back and rubbed it gently slowly, as if trying to physically remove this figurative weight he mentioned - and, surprisingly, I felt it working even if just a little bit. My facial expression probably gave my enjoyment away, because he didn’t remove his hand even after he stopped moving it, and I let him keep it like that.

“I mean, it’s not that bad…” I avoided Kenny’s gaze as I uttered those words, and immediately the pain he had soothed came crashing down again. “”It’s just one date. I’m sure it’s-”

“Don’t you start this on me now,” Kenny interrupted before I could continue my poor attempt at a dispute, “You know it is that bad. It’s your anniversary. Fuck, if I had a chick willing to do all that for me, I’d stick to her like bubblegum on a shoe,” he chuckled nervously as he ran his fingers through his hair, the thought of having someone who cared about him that much apparently making his brain run amok - he was probably the type of person to try to get things done for people instead of the other way around.

“And I’ll say more,” he took a deep breath and continued as he took note of my silence, “Even if it was just a date, you should still be pissed. You agreed on something and he fucked it up. And now you’re here, looking sad and hot. If this happened to any of your girl friends, you’d tell them to send the garbage dick to the gutters, wouldn’t you?”

I tried opening my mouth to argue further, try to defend my man’s behaviour or justify it, but found myself running dry of the excuses I usually had on hand. It was like something inside of me had snapped, and if there was one goddamn day of my relationship where I would allow myself to be angry and expect reparations, it would be this one.

“Thanks, Kenny,” I murmured, nodding slowly and letting my gratitude shine through my eyes as well when I gazed into his, “Means a lot.”

“Don’t mention it,” he shook his head, making his shaggy hair flow beautifully and frame his face even better, “Consider this my first real attempt at becoming employee of the month.”

In a weird way, Kenny’s presence and his charisma were starting to make me feel better. I felt drawn to continue talking to him, if just to hear his voice more.

“Are you a new hire?” I asked, signaling with my head towards the restaurant where he worked at, “I come here often and I’ve never seen you there before.”

“Oh, no no no, I’ve been there a couple of months now,” Kenny was quick to answer, waving his hand in front of him to emphasize the negative, “But I usually just do cleaning duty and help in the kitchen. They don’t want me waiting tables because I ain’t exactly got a face for customer service.”

I didn’t argue with his comment, but it wasn’t for a lack of wanting to. The man sitting next to me was absolutely handsome. Every single one of his features displayed intense personality and charm, and the words in his voice always sounded extremely seductive no matter the subject. Kenny had a natural magnetism to him that most men could never have no matter how hard they tried. However, he was nonetheless a bit rough around the edges, and the piercings and scars probably were a red flag when it came to employment. Not his fault and there was nothing wrong with him, the only one to blame was our current society.

“Anyway, today I’m actually covering for a friend of mine,” Kenny continued, “Got in some sort of trouble and couldn’t be here, so he asked me to cover for him and it was the least I could do.”

Using my amassed knowledge of the restaurant’s usual waiters, I went through my mental images of all of their faces to try and guess who his friend could be. There was this other young man, about our age… “Is it the other blond guy? Also with the… You know, over his eye?” I moved my finger in front of my left eye, tracing a scar I remembered the other man having. Were facial scars an integral part of the restaurant’s uniform?

“Butters. That’s him.” Kenny nodded with a smile. “Really nice dude. Reliable. He’s covered my ass a couple of times, vouched for me to get this job too. I gotta check on him later to see if everything’s alright, he never misses a workday.”

The sincerity in Kenny’s voice and the way he beamed about his colleague made my heart feel warmer. There was obviously more to their friendship than just being work buddies, and I was sure this ‘Butters’ guy was very near and dear to him. Maybe next time I went in there for lunch we could strike a conversation or something.

But all good things must come to an end. With a stinging reminder that I still had a phone with zero battery on me and a whole walk to my house ahead, which would set me back on my ‘not think of my life’ objective a lot, I decided I should just cut that umbilical cord and let my new buddy go back to living his own.

“Well, Kenny… I think I really need to go. Don’t wanna take up any more of your time.” I run my hands over my eyes one more time, even though the tears have already all spilled by now and are basically dry. “Thanks for everything. All the best to you.”

I get up from the bench and wave him a goodbye, but feel him grab my wrist and tug at it as I try to leave. When I turn to him again, he’s holding up my picnic basket in his hand. “You forgot your… your thing here.”

He pushes it toward me, but I don’t pick it up, instead just making a dismissing motion with my free hand. “Keep it.” I shook my head. “I’m not hungry anyway. Think of it as a token of appreciation for keeping me company.”

“You’re not hungry? That’s bullshit!” He gets on his feet as well and tries giving me the basket again, more insistently this time. “You were waiting here for hours without eating. You must be starving.”

Kenny wasn’t wrong. During our whole conversation, I could feel the familiar pangs of hunger in my belly, my body’s painful way of begging me for sustenance. However, just thinking of coming back home all alone and having to eat all the food I prepared for me and my boyfriend, knowing full well that it was supposed to be for a special occasion and I had instead been bailed on like it was nothing, was enough to make my eyes burn again with the threat of another crying session. I wouldn’t be able to do it.

To keep myself from crying again, I just let out a downcast sigh. “It’s alright. There’s too much for just me anyway, I don’t want it to go bad. If you keep it you can at least share with your buddies or something.”

“Well, I’m still not taking what’s yours, that’d be fucked up. But…” His eyes darted to the side, looking towards his workplace, then back to the basket his holding and then finally to me again.

“But?”

“Well, as it turns out, I haven’t had my lunch break yet.” His hand releases its grasp on my wrist and he picks up his phone in the pocket of his apron briefly to check the time, putting it right back after he does. “So I think you can still have that picnic.”

It was unbelievable. “You’d… Do that for me?”

“It would be a real mistake to let such a perfectly prepared meal go to waste.” He made a gesture with his hand, towards my picnic basket - a gesture that I could’ve sworn encompassed me as well, theory only made stronger by the mischievous glint I definitely saw in his eyes.

His boldness had me flabbergasted. In any other situation, I’d be nothing short of horrified at the thought of an unknown man inviting himself to my business like that and basically taking over my day - but Kenny had been so kind, helping me with nothing but caring words as I bawled my eyes out, taking time away from his work to make sure an unknown woman was safe and okay while asking for absolutely nothing in return. And he seemed so genuine about it, too - even if he had made some playful passes, I wasn’t the slightest bit uncomfortable around him. He was being extremely nice about all of it and I found myself not ready to go back home and face the music of my terrible life just yet; Maybe Kenny and I really could have a great time together, even if it wasn’t what I originally planned.

“If you really want to…” I give him a gentle smile. “Let’s go, then.”

His eyes light up like a child’s as he hears my acceptance, and he hands me my basket to hold before starting to walk with purpose past me, leaving me confused. “Just stay here for a bit, okay? Don’t go nowhere.” He calls out to me, but as he sees my eyes widening and a little sadness flash behind them - I hadn’t considered that I’d had to wait even more for Kenny now, and my whole experience with today had me a little paranoid -, he’s quick to add: “I swear I’ll be quick, it’s just to warn the other folk! Be back in a flash!”

With a deep breath, I decide to trust him on this one. “Go, go!” I yell with urgency, turning my attention to other parts of my surroundings while he goes do what needs to be done.

Luckily I didn’t have to wait long. After just a couple minutes my ears picked up rushed footsteps coming in my direction - Kenny was now straight up running to meet me. He looked mostly the same, with a few key differences; He had ditched his apron completely and was now wearing a big orange parka with brown details on the hoodie. It looked cheap , old and beat-up, with a bunch of very visible stitching on the seams, like it had ripped off and been sewn back together multiple times before. It also had a couple dried dark stains splattered around it, but I wasn’t about to ask what they were.

“Feeling cold?” I pointed at the new addition to his outfit.

Kenny shook his head and shrugged, the jacket making a very characteristic plastic-like sound with his movement. “Just thought I might need it.”

You’re gonna sweat in that was my immediate thought, but the judgement that followed was to not to waste any time debating his decision, he’s a grown adult and must have his reasons. I adjusted the basket on my forearm as I began to walk, but Kenny quickly moved to my side and pulled it away from me, locking his right arm with my left one and holding the basket with his other hand. I turned to him with a confused look, but he said nothing about it, instead choosing to go on about something entirely unrelated as we made our way to our destination.

༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚𓆩♡𓆪༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚

The trip to Stark’s Pond was quite short, but filled with fun and laughter all the way nonetheless. Kenny was making progress on his objective of keeping me distracted from my current situation, telling me lots of jokes and sneaking compliments every other sentence like it was second nature for him to say them, which it might as well be. I had no doubt that, for anyone who went past us on the street and didn’t know who we were, the only thing they saw was one extremely happy couple.

I ended up learning lots of stuff about him, too. He opened up like a library book, probably to compensate for the fact that he saw me so vulnerable earlier. I found out that he was an extremely hardworking man, needing money not only for his daily expenses but also to help his little sister pay her university tuition - between that and his treatment of me, a person he barely knew, I had no doubt he truly had a heart of gold.

Besides the daily shifts at the restaurant and some odd jobs here and there whenever he got some free time, he was regularly busy during weekend nights, working as a bartender at a club in Main Street. I knew the place like the back of my hand. It was my old stomping ground - I had spent many a crazy Friday and Saturday night there, and it was also where I had met my current boyfriend, a drunk hookup that became a bigger thing. Ironically enough, once we made it official, he began to get bothered whenever I talked of going there and would give me the silent treatment if I did, so I eventually just abandoned it altogether to keep the peace.

“Well, if you ever feel like coming back,” Kenny said after I commented on the coincidence, “Then keep me company at the bar. Drinks on me. And not that overpriced stuff full of ice we usually make. Real alcohol.”

I told him he was full of shit and waved him off, but made a mental note of what he said… Just in case.

When we arrived at the lake, it was immediately verified that Kenny’s predictions about what the people in town were doing for the sunny day were correct. The park surrounding the pond was peppered with couples in love whispering sweet nothings to each other while watching the clouds, families with children throwing frisbees to their dogs, and groups of teenagers being as loud as they usually are and causing stress to everyone around them. My eyes scanned the space around me, looking for a decent open spot to sit down - meanwhile, Kenny just kept walking like he already knew where he wanted to go, and I absentmindedly followed him.

The realization that we had deviated a little from the main path only comes to me when the sound beneath my feet goes from soft grass to crunching twigs. We were breaching the forest nearby, Kenny bringing me swiftly around the trees like his legs had their positions down pat. I knew for a fact that there was a trail of beaten dirt through this same forest for those who wished to take a stroll in it, but we weren’t following that path. As I shoot an inquisitive glance and a frown towards my new friend, he just smiles, acknowledging my confusion but not missing pace over it.

“Don’t worry your pretty little head about it, I have the perfect spot,” He turned to me, pointing over his shoulder with his thumb. “Unless you wanna go back and we can go sit next to those highschoolers with the speakers blasting 6ix9ine.”

I shook my head quickly and emphatically, immediately getting a pep in my step. “Oh no, I trust you on this one.”

Our little unexpected promenade didn’t last for much longer. Soon the trees started to spread more distant from each other, and we arrived at a small open area, a random glade I had never seen before. The tree canopies bunched together didn’t create their patchy roof over our heads any longer, so the sun was free to shine and warm up my skin. The branches fallen on the ground were few and far between, and the grass was decently smooth and level, perfect for relaxing on it. No animals were to be seen, probably scattered away much earlier after hearing our noises, but I could hear birds singing in the distance and catch one or two flying high above our heads.

“This is a nice place, Kenny!” I exclaimed, turning to him with a smile. “How much roaming around the forest did you do to find it?”

“I guess I’ve known about it for a while. Me and my bros come here all the time to have a smo- Think. We come here to think.” I laughed after hearing Kenny immediately try to correct himself, his sudden interest in a tiny pebble on the grass not going unnoticed either.

“You don’t have to hide it from me, I’m not a prude.” I shrugged. “Think anyone else might get the same idea today?”

“Nah, I don’t think so. And if they do, trust me, they’re gonna leave.”

Deciding once again to not question Kenny’s words or his methods, I opened up the basket in my arm and picked up a yellow and white checkered picnic blanket, opening it up and stretching it over the grass. My unexpected companion immediately started to help me spread the contents of the basket neatly on top of it, making all our food options easily visible.

And there were many of them. I had been quite proud of myself beforehand for managing to prepare a decent amount of stuff for my date, but it dawned on me that if I hadn’t had Kenny by my side it would have taken me a couple of days to get through it all on my own at home. Me and my improbable new friend talked a bunch more while we made quick work of the small club sandwiches, homemade chicken pie, carrot cake, some assorted snacks and drinks from the grocery store, and…

“Chocolate-covered strawberries? Seriously?” Kenny held up the small red box, shaking it slightly. “The big expensive ones too. You really went all out for this.”

“Hey, I forgot I had that! These are the best!” I let out a small squeal of surprise, the memory of having picked up the sweet treat earlier at the candy store having gotten lost in my head over all the stress I went through. I reach my arm towards Kenny, the tiny box too far away for me to get to it naturally. ”Can you pass me one, please?”

After I finished my request, my ears picked up some particularly close chirping, and I quickly turned my head around to look for any sign of a small bird that could be producing it, my hand still extended towards Kenny with my fingers wiggling as I waited for him to give me one of the sweet treats. I heard the characteristic noise of the box being opened, and something being shuffled inside of it, but nothing ever made its way to me. When I turned to see what was taking Kenny so long, I realized why - Kenny was staying put with one of the strawberries held between his teeth with half of it sticking out of his mouth. He couldn’t speak, but his eyes held the message of what he wanted me to do next.

I had to admit, I considered it for a brief moment. It was a simple act of play, but so sensual as well - I hadn’t been able to do this kind of silly stuff in quite a while, and it ignited something in me that had been dormant for a while now. I felt wanted. However, my moral compass was still blaring its sirens loudly in my brain, and I didn’t want to lead my whole life astray just because one guy I just met was giving me all the attention I needed. “Oh, come on, give me that!” I feigned annoyance and reached over to try and pick the fruit out from between Kenny’s teeth, but he quickly just gets all of it inside of his mouth and starts chewing.

“Had to at least try.” He chuckled, with his mouth still full, before picking out another strawberry from the box and handing it over to me properly this time.

“Do you try this with every girl who offers you food?” I inquired with irony in my voice as I plucked the small leaves off the top of the fruit, “The whole loverboy act?”

He swallows before answering this time. “Only when they’re as cute as you are,” He replied, “Which means I’ve never done it before in my entire life.”

If my eyes could roll back further into my head, they’d dislodge from it. “Like I said, Kenny, you’re full of shit,” I retorted right before popping the whole strawberry in my mouth, closing my eyes to savor its taste. My next words came slightly messed up, as I spoke with my mouth full, covering it with my hand. “I bet the girls are all over you with that.”

While I chewed on the fruit, Kenny stayed totally silent, his eyes scanning the plaid pattern of the picnic blanket under him. “What if it’s not an act, though?”

The sudden seriousness in his tone made my eyes shoot open immediately, and I flinched a bit, a frown creasing my forehead.

Kenny started scooting closer and wrapped his arms around me, suddenly pulling my body in one quick motion so I was seated between his legs while he hugged me tightly from behind. I tensed up completely in his arms, and didn’t dare make a movement even when his heavy breathing on my shoulder made the fine hairs behind my neck stand up. “Ken… I…” My uttering was almost non-audible, voice still strained from the surprise.

He grinned against the crook of my neck. “Ken, huh?” Kenny’s murmurs came out slightly muffled by my skin, “I can be that today, if you need me to. Just say it.”

“What are we doing, Ken?” My voice slowly started coming back to me, and I looked down towards the grass, seeing Kenny’s leg stretched right next to mine, barely touching it. He was too close now for me to be able to shake off his advances or pretend they’re just jokes; There was nowhere to go but right through them. “I shouldn’t be here…”

“What you *should *be is with someone who values you.” He cut my sentence with a firm and decided tone in his voice, getting a tighter hold of me between his arms. “A real man, not that sucker you’re dating right now. Someone who treats you right.”

I wanted to argue with him, ask him who he thinks he is to assume things about a woman he barely knows - but I knew his words to be true, there’s no point I can try to make that will make them not so.

Seeing that I was both not moving from my position and not disputing his claims, my guess is that he had newfound energy to get his point across, because he continued talking. “Do you know what I would do if I had a woman like you by my side, huh?” Kenny rhetorically asked, his voice almost a growl. “I’d wake up at the crack of dawn every day to provide for her. I’d make love to her every single night. I’d be the one planning dates and showing her a good time. I wouldn’t leave you alone to cry in the middle of the fucking street, I’d be too busy making you happy instead.”

“You said ‘you’ right now.” I immediately pointed out, even though it’s unnecessary. “Not ‘her’. ‘You.’”

“And I fucking meant it.”

With that, one of his arms loosened its wrap on my body and reached far for the tiny box containing the chocolate strawberries, and he picked one up in his hands, bringing it close to our faces. This one had a different design from all the others - instead of the usual white chocolate lines over the milk chocolate covering, this one’s got small red hearts as well. It’s more detailed, a tiny touch of romance to what is usually a very sexy treat in nature. Kenny cleaned the leaves out of the strawberry and took a bite out of it, holding the other half close to my lips. My nostrils immediately took in the sweet scent of the fruit, but I didn't open my mouth just yet.

“Look, I won’t force you to do anything you don’t wanna do. But if you let me, I’ll make you feel real good. Promise.” He murmured, digging his left hand’s fingers on the soft side of my belly one last time. The ball was fully on my court, but I could still feel the hints of his desperation for my body as he waited patiently for my answer.

Slowly and nervously, I parted my lips and let Kenny put the small piece of strawberry inside of my mouth himself, hearing him sigh in relief behind me as he did so. Once he withdrew his fingers from my mouth, that’s when I finally bit down on the small treat. This one isn’t as sweet as the others; It might not have been as perfectly ripe, so it had a tiny tinge of sourness mixed up in the fruit’s flavor. The milk chocolate around the fruit almost masked it up completely, though - the whole combination tasted absolutely heavenly, not just for the fruit, but also for the implications of it. I was in deep now.

Kenny almost doesn’t wait for me to swallow what’s in my mouth before turning my face to his and kissing me fiercely, his left hand getting tangled with the hair in the back of my head. I kissed him back with the same amount of fervor almost immediately, and all of my worries over this whole situation dissipated from my head like dry ice; Fuck what needed to happen for us to get to this point, fuck my problems and how I’d sort them out, fuck morals and especially fuck the outside world. This tiny little section of the forest was our own personal bubble, and I’d live in it for as long as I could.

When the tip of Kenny’s tongue brushed my bottom lip and I opened my mouth to grant it access, I realized I hadn’t accounted for one more piercing of his. The tiny little ball sitting in the middle of his tongue didn’t feel as cold as I thought it would, so it was more the sudden change in hardness and texture that threw me off a bit. I kept my cool, though, as I put my hands on both sides of his face and pulled it even closer to mine. I decided to try something out and touched his piercing with the tip of my tongue, flicking it ever so gently - I immediately felt Kenny’s hard-on twitch inside of his pants against my lower back.

As our tongues slid around each other and explored our connected mouths, his right hand slowly made its way up my thigh, sneaking under my clothes, ghosting over my bare pussy. I had been having so much fun with this man today, I’d completely forgotten I wasn’t wearing anything under my dress. Just this slight contact was enough to make my breath hitch and Kenny broke the kiss, his hand freezing in place.

When I opened my eyes, he was unapologetically staring at me. Mouth agape in surprise, pupils wide, it almost seemed like the whole galaxy was behind his eyes with the way they shined. Kenny looked like what someone would if you told them all of their dreams had come true at the same time.

“What a lucky son of a bitch.” He uttered almost non-audibly, the corners of his mouth slowly curving upwards into a delighted smile. For a moment, I wondered if he was talking about my actual partner or about himself. I wasn’t able to ask, though - Kenny’s left hand immediately grabbed my chin and tilted my head up, holding my face, ear and neck in perfect positions for him to start kissing, sucking and biting them voraciously.

The middle and index fingers on his right hand went back to gliding up and down my folds, picking up the building slick from my entrance and spreading it all over before settling over my clit and drawing quick tight circles over the bundle of nerves. Before I knew it, I was putty in Kenny’s hands, squirming and arching my back as much as I could in his grasp, my moans filling his ears and working as fuel for his ministrations.

Eliciting a whine of annoyance from my mouth when he did, Kenny took his hands away from me, not without planting one last wet kiss to my jaw. While I cooled down, steadying my breath, he brought his fingers over to his mouth, sucking on them and licking slowly. Then he sighed. “Fuck, no. This won’t do at all. Need you on my face, baby.”

I didn’t even have time to register what he said or the implications of it before he let go of my body and started moving behind me, stretching his legs under mine. When I quickly turned back to see what was up, he was already fully laid down with his head on the blanket, hands pulling at my thighs like he wanted to bring me closer to his upper body.

“Wait, what?” I tried to get up at my feet, but his pulling made me lose balance and I quickly sat back down as gently as I could, my knees now at both sides of his abdomen.

“Come on, over here,” he called, still trying to drag me over his body towards his face, “Or do you want me to beg? Because I’ll do it.”

Somehow the idea of Kenny begging for something like this made a blush spread quickly across my cheeks and ears, which probably burned bright like a beacon. How to explain to this man that I had never done what he wanted me to do?

My question was answered almost immediately - like everything else in my interactions with Kenny, I didn’t have to tell him, he knew straight away. “That fucking asshole,” he let out a disgruntled huff, rubbing his face with his hand as if completely stressed.

“Excuse me?”

“Your damn boyfriend,” he immediately responded, huffing again as if the mere thought of that man made him angry, “Can’t even eat out his own fucking lady properly.”

“I never said…” Once again with all my damn defenses, but this time it was aimed at myself. I’d feel awkward admitting to Kenny that even though I was fairly experienced, what with the long-term relationship, I still knew very little about my own pleasure.

“It’s written all over your face, baby,” he said, gesturing towards my beet red features, his expression softening. “But it’s alright. You take a seat and enjoy the show. This is my shift.”

He then started playing with the hem of my dress, twirling it between his fingers, waiting for my next move. Slowly, but surely, I started scooting on my knees towards his face, turning my face away as I got closer to his mouth. As I finally got to it, my bare cunt hovering above his face, his arms wrapped around my thighs and started pulling me down as if he wanted me to fall on him - was this guy trying to have his neck broken? To stop him from actually succeeding in this endeavor, I lowered myself steadily to where my folds were touching his lips.

And he got to work right away. His tongue started by licking tentative stripes through my slit, capturing on it my already plentiful arousal - I could hear Kenny’s satisfied groans as he tasted it, but the front of my dress falling over his head shielded me from any facial expressions.

His fingers splayed on the soft flesh of my thigh tightened their grasp as he started licking and sucking faster, and I leaned forward, putting my hands on the floor near Kenny’s head for stability.

“Yes, Ken! More! Aaah!” I called out once his tongue picked up speed, tugging fistfuls of my own picnic blanket as my fingers tried to dig into the floor. Seemingly content with my feedback, he mumbled something against my pussy, as if trying to speak, but the only thing that was definitely caught by my senses were the vibrations against my folds, all the way to my core.

Then and there I realized that Kenny might be an actual genius. Whenever his tongue would lap at my clit, or make its way to fuck my cunt again, I’d feel the tiny piercing on top of it - and it increased my pleasure tenfold. The extra stimulation of the hard metal ball with his soft tongue had me seeing blank before my eyes with every quick successive movement, and he knew it too, because I could hear him groan as he’d purposefully lap and flick and curl with his tongue mercilessly.

Before I could catch myself, I was rocking my hips against Kenny’s face, trying to get more contact, more of anything he could give me. His jaw and tongue followed my movements perfectly, like he was well prepared for this exact reaction. My thighs were quivering from the pleasure he was giving me as well as the strain of the position while I tried not to completely fall on his mouth. It didn’t take much long for me to figuratively do exactly that, though; With a loud cry that probably scared every single animal in a radius across the forest, I came on his mouth, my hands grabbing a fistful of the grass under them while I rocked shamelessly against Kenny’s face, riding it through my release. I could feel his nails digging at the flesh of my ass, but he never made a movement to pull me away, eating me up like a man starved.

Once I started coming to my senses again and brought back enough strength to my thighs, I lifted myself up away from Kenny’s face slowly and hiked up the front of my dress, looking down to be able to see his face at that moment. He looked back at me through half-lidded eyes, his cheeks and nose sporting a reddish flush that definitely didn’t exist before. My juices are splattered all around his mouth and he has this massive stupid grin on his face, showing almost all of his teeth.

“Gorgeous.” He uttered once he saw me staring back, his voice raspy and lazy. I merely chuckled, going backwards on my knees until I was close to his hips, where I finally settled, lowering myself back down to sit right on top of the generous tent formed in his pants.

Kenny lifted his upper body up on his elbows once he felt me positioned against his still clothed cock. “Oh, aren’t we eager now?” He teased, patting the ground next to him. “Lay down here, baby. Let me sort that out for you.”

I shook my head with a smirk. “I don’t think I will. This is my shift now.”

His eyes widened, astounded, as I put both my hands on his chest and pushed him back down with full force of my arms. His head was still lifted as his back hit the ground, and I made sure to maintain our gazes connected as my hands drifted to his pants, unbuckling and unzipping them with dexterity.

“Are you sure?” Kenny inquired, his eyebrows arched, but I was positive I could see the faintest hint of a smile on the corners of his lips. “I mean, I’m all for it, but aren’t you tired?”

“I’m fine. I wanna do this.” I tug down his pants and boxers just enough to free his cock, rolling my hips a couple times over it just to see his Adam’s apple bob as he swallowed hard. “Besides, it’s good thigh workout.”

“Not that you need it.” Kenny’s hands ran over my legs, giving my thighs a light squeeze. Once he saw my hand going towards his dick again as I prepared to take him inside of me, however, his grip released and his arm reached over somewhere. “Wait, wait, wait! Time out!”

I glanced confused to the side and saw Kenny dragging closer to us his parka, which had long been discarded to one end of our blanket, and he stuffed his hand inside of one of the pockets. “What is it?” I tried to ask, but he just rummaged around in it for two or three seconds more before bringing out a blue foil package.

So that’s why he needed to bring the damn jacket. “Someone’s well prepared.”

“I mean… Better be safe than sorry.” Kenny replied, handing me the tiny square. “Come on, I was about to hang out alone with the hottest chick in town. A guy can dream, you know?”

I twisted the wrapping between my fingers, analyzing the information in it. Average size - though that tells me next to nothing about what I’m really working with - and of the ‘Ultra Thin’ variety. This fucking guy. “You’re clean, right?”

“Oh yeah, absolutely!” He answered at record speed, nodding for extra emphasis. “But I mean… It’s for your best, right?”

I placed the condom right back on top of his parka. “I’m on the pill,” I reassured him as his face sported a totally confused expression, “So, if you’ll let me… I want to feel you, Ken. Really feel you.”

He swallowed hard again, his dick twitching with more precum leaking out of the tip as he took in my words. Still pleasantly surprised by my decision, he slowly nodded, closing his eyes and seemingly letting himself relax - though I could almost see all the little cogs in his brain moving wildly with all the lewd thoughts he had of me, and it made for great fuel to my ego.

My hand wrapped around Kenny’s cock again and I lifted my hips up to get in perfect position on top of it, moving the tip around my entrance teasingly, spreading his pre over it and getting it mixed with my own slick. When I finally slipped about an inch fully inside and my cunt gave one small initial clench around it, Kenny’s eyes shot open and he grabbed my thighs again, like he was fighting the temptation of pulling me down immediately.

“Tight… So fucking tight…” He grunted between gritted teeth, his dick twitching once again. His words like fire on my lower abdomen, I steadied myself over him before slamming my hips fully down and burying him to the hilt in one motion, both of us letting out loud groans as he stretched my walls with little preparation. Kenny’s nails dug at my thighs with this, leaving the tiniest crescent marks on them.

After a few seconds to adjust to his size - the longest seconds of my life - I lifted myself up agonizingly slowly before sinking back down again, trying to keep a slow and teasing pace, but failing miserably as I quickly began picking up speed and riding him in earnest. His enthusiasm matched mine, his hands on my thighs moving to my ass, feeling every jiggle and bounce of my flesh.

And that wasn’t the only thing of mine that bounced that he seemed interested in. Now that Kenny’s eyes were open, he basically zeroed in on the movement of my breasts, pupils glazed over with hunger. Determined to give him the show he was so interested in, I quickly removed the straps of my sundress from my shoulders and pulled down the neckline, so that my tits were on full display for him. That same stupid grin he had exhibited earlier showed up yet again.

“Mmmm… Like what you see, Ken?” I teased, brushing a wild strand of hair off his face with one of my hands, my soft touch lingering.

“Fuck yes,” one of his hands left my behind to knead at one of the perky mounds, “You’re perfect. Your boyfriend is a fucking-” I silenced him immediately with a particularly hard crash of my cunt on him. I needed not hear further from his mouth except for grunts or praise.

With every roll of my hips and slap of my skin against his, I wondered more why I took so long to surrender to him. My decision to let him hit it raw might have been irrational, but I didn’t regret it one single bit; He filled me up so perfectly, his length like the perfect massager to my inner walls, bringing me bliss like I hadn’t felt in quite a while. My hands grabbed and tugged at his shirt while I moaned with the full force of my throat, throwing my head back as his cock hit that sweet spot inside of me with every movement I made.

“Ken… Ken… Aaaah…” His nickname left my mouth like the chorus of an earworm song, ever present, the only thing I could think about in life. And I continued to say it over and over, making sure that it would permanently stick to his brain as well, my voice his only true companion even with the deafening music of the club he worked nights at.

“Hell yeah, baby,” he groaned between gritted teeth, “Let it out… You keep saying my name like that and I’m gonna lose my fucking mind here…”

Even if he said it like something that was yet to happen, lowering my gaze to Kenny’s face told me that he was already absolutely going* through it*. His eyes were tight shut and his eyebrows were furrowed, almost in a manner of deep concentration; He was trying his hardest to not finish before I did, and it was awkwardly endearing.

The pace of my hips slowed briefly as I lowered my upper body down towards Kenny’s chest, keeping balance by holding myself on my elbows bent to the sides of him. Once he’s not as overwhelmed with pleasure and felt the tip of my nose ghosting against his, he dared open his eyes to meet my caring gaze and soft smile. He immediately wrapped his arms around me and lifted his head from the ground just barely, his lips chasing mine, yearning for their velvety touch - which I granted them gladly, taking him in a luscious kiss as my hips slowly regained their previous momentum.

“Beautiful… Like a damn angel… Heaven’s got nothing on you…” Kenny whispered against my lips as soon as they parted from his, and those words on his voice made my heart skip a beat yet again - it was like he knew all the buttons to press to make me melt for him, even though we barely knew each other - but I knew that after all this I was definitely keeping him in my personal circle.

Our slight experiment with real affection didn’t last long, though. In my new position, my clit was making contact with Kenny’s skin and being stimulated with every movement I made; Soon I had to take my face away from Kenny’s to bury it in the crook of his neck as I moaned, feeling my orgasm fast approaching again from the combined effort on my pleasure spots.

My thrusts became shorter and even quicker as I felt my muscles tightening again, the upcoming climax threatening to consume me, with my thighs also trembling and burning from the straining ‘workout’. I continued grinding on him with wild abandon until I came on his dick with a shuddering cry of his nickname; the sun in the sky feeling almost cold in comparison to the electric warmth that coursed through every inch of my body, sparks of pleasure jolting through my muscles, making my cunt contract wildly around that man’s dick as if trying to make him a whole part of me.

As a tough roar reached my ears, the motion of my hips was abruptly interrupted by Kenny’s hands grabbing the sides of them and holding me firmly in place; He replaced my movement with his, bucking upwards in an intense burst of stamina as he now allowed himself to chase his own release. Given how long he had been holding back and how quick and powerful each of his thrusts were now, it doesn’t take long to catch up to him - soon his hips jerk up one last time and stay firmly in place, and I feel his cock twitching as it fills me up with jet after jet of his warm seed.

He stayed put like this for a while, with his hips raised to meet mine, the sounds of our heavy breathing the only thing audible in the little clearing at that moment. When I decided to make the first move and get up, Kenny’s softening dick sliding off of me and allowing his cum to start dripping down my legs, his arms fell to his side and he stretched his legs, letting out a deep sigh of contentment.

“Someone’s happy,” I commented with a smile as I laid down beside him, watching the sunlight hit his golden hair just right.

“Ya think?” Kenny responded with a rough chuckle, immediately wrapping his arm around me and pulling me closer so I’m resting on his chest with my legs draped over his. “Damn, baby… I’m never letting you go now.”

Coming down from my high, I expected all of the usual occurrences associated with descriptions of cheating you see in fiction to wash over me: Regret, sadness, anger at myself - or, if I was a narcissist, at this man for indulging me -, despair, maybe I’d even start running some excuses in my head. Absolutely none of these thoughts came to pass. Instead, as I laid on top of the picnic blanket soaking in the warm sun with a peaceful Kenny lazily petting my hair, I felt a sense of absolute bliss; After so many things that seemed wrong in my life for the past two years, I was finally having a moment where I’m certain something is right, and the definitive decision was made in my heart to never let it be otherwise again.

༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚𓆩♡𓆪༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚

We unfortunately didn’t make it back to the restaurant before Kenny’s lunch break ended, which meant he’d probably get a scolding from his manager for being unpunctual. When I apologized for making him late, though, he didn’t seem the slightest bit worried about it - his boyish grin stayed on his face the whole time, and he was actually acting more mad about having to leave me and go back to waiting tables.

He did bring me inside of the restaurant through a door in the back and led me to the employee’s break room, where one of his colleagues had a charger I could borrow. I used it just enough to be able to call an Uber and have battery for the ride home, not wanting to overstay my welcome when Kenny was already on thin ice because of our escapade. Before I left, though, he still made sure to put his number on my contact list, under the pretext of ‘me sending him an album I mentioned earlier that he might like’; However, as he winked and blew me a kiss before being called over by one of the cooks to pick up an order that was ready, I knew music would not be one of our top 10 subjects in conversation.

Only two text messages were sent from my phone that night. One very long paragraph to my now ex-boyfriend, listing all the problems I had with our relationship with several examples and telling him to disappear from my life before blocking his number - not wanting to give him even the slightest chance to manipulate me - and deleting it for good. Another much shorter message, to a contact just named ‘🧡’, containing detailed information about my favorite drink in the whole world and telling him to have it ready by 10pm.

Dividers by

@cafekitsune

#south park #south park fanfiction #south park smut #south park x reader #sp x reader #south park fanfic #south park x y/n #kenny mccormick #sp kenny #kenny mccormick x reader #kenny x reader #kenny mccormick x you #kenny mccormick x y/n #kenny x y/n #kenny x you #ao3 #x reader

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emperor-kumquat · 3 months ago

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Hello there!!! How’s your day going so far emperor?

Old time fan here! I’ve been catching up on Some of my old transformers fandoms ever since I watched transformers one, and I remember about this awesome project you and many other creators made (btw your work is outstanding, Keep it up!!!) and I’m amazed at how much has changed and it makes me feel incredibly happy that my favorite transformers prime fan-storyline is still here! I remembered finding your videos when it was back in 2020 during quarantine. I always played through the beta version of “mercy” when it first came out and I remember feeling so excited for it; and I’d always wanted to best path for starscream be at least a good guy since he was my favorite character (and still is today)

And now seeing that the game is still in the works and seeing so many new bots is so exciting and happy to see the dedication to this!!! I know I have to catch up on the lore and stuff but it’ll be a fun experience for me, though I just wanted to ask a few questions before I end my first ever question that wasn’t anonymous,

Question 1: is there a discord server where I could possibly join? I want to make sure I could keep up with the latest updates for this project!

Question 2: I know I’ll need to read the Ao3 storyline for mercy but how does predaking and starscreams relationship grow over time during one of the paths? (I can’t remember but I think it was the one where predaking spears him and just keeps an eye on him— along with the predacons going to live in the wild or something? Can’t remember much lol)

And for my last question;

Question 3: Hows the process of “Mercy” going so far? Seeing all the art being made its absolutely stunning and beautifully done!

And that’s all the questions I have for now; until then I’ll be catching up on all the transformers lore that I’ve missed for so many years! I hope you’re having an amazing day Emperor!

————-J

Thank you so much for being a fan of Mercy! I still work on it almost every day! Editing the stories to improve quality, writing new content, drawing, instructing artists, etc.

Have you seen all the art on the Ko-Fi page? I post the commissions there, so there are hundreds of images to see!

For all the latest updates, here is the Discord server. Just so you know, there is a glitch when you enter that doesn't let you interact right away. Stay in the server until I can fix that for you, then you can write your introduction to unlock the whole server. Please read the rules too.

For the storyline you are referring to, I have fully written the story where the Predacons live in the wild of Cybertron with Starscream as their guide. It is THE Starscream story of Mercy and is a tale of friendship. Your adventure gets dangerous later on, so it turns into a fun survival game too! This is the written version of the choose your own adventure story. It's called "Discovery".

The main paths of Transformers: Mercy are on AO3. There are three full length story games available right now and the fourth is in progress. Check out my complete list of works and you may be surprised just how much has been completed since the beta part 1!

Mercy Part 1 (2020): A collection of the various starts to the game. A bit under construction right now to adapt to new plans. Quality is being improved (and the videos will be redone)

Space Adventure (2021): the choice to work with the Autobots on the landing site/spaceport at the end of Part 1. Travel to other worlds!

Reformed Predator (2022): the choice to eat Starscream in Part 1. Become a carnivorous monster then get therapy.

Discovery (2023): the choice to live in the wilderness at the end of Part 1. Explore beautiful lands and befriend Starscream.

Monstrous Heart (2024): the choice to work with the Autobots in the city at the end of Part 1. Discover the dark secrets of the Autobots and Decepticons, thwart the Vehicon mafia.

Right now I'm trying to do a lot of editing for my older content to improve it. I'm also doing a massive effort to prepare Part 2 videos for the Mercy stories so far. And doing my own Mercy art, annd I really need to write Monstrous Heart to completion this year! One novel-length game every year is the goal.

#tf mercy #transformers #transformers prime #starscream #predaking #predacons

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adrianicsea · 7 months ago

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DENNIS GETS NEW PRONOUNS IS FINALLY HERE!!!!

above is a preview of how it looks in The Gang Finds Their Pride, available over at @its-always-ziney-in-philadelphia!! i am SO beyond obsessed with how gorgeous the typesetting by @aanalytic looks, as well as the included artwork by @nekomansir and @nordenhelm — thank you all again, it was such a delight to work with everyone to make this story look so much better than i could have imagined

after you’ve checked out the zine, if you’re so inclined, there’s also a longer version of Dennis Gets New Pronouns over on my ao3, which includes some extra details and a few scenes that just couldn’t fit into the zine’s wordcount requirement!!

i’ve been sitting on this more or less entirely completed fic since april, which has kind of been agonizing!! i am THRILLED to have it out in the world and i would love to hear your thoughts on it 🥹❤️

#it’s always sunny in Philadelphia #iasip #Dennis reynolds #macdennis #the gang finds their Pride #iasip zine #my fics

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ladyazurith · 6 months ago

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Cater Diamond Analysis

Honestly, my first impressions of Cater were…not good. When I very first started playing Twist, I picked Idia as my starting character because I love Hades (not the Disney version but the classical Greek mythology version, though the Disney version is great he’s a terrible representation of Hades but I think everyone knows that) After playing the game Azul quickly became my favorite (That’s why my first Broken Mirrors story was about him) and just Octavinelle in general.

When I first picked up Twist I kind of sped through books 1 and 2. At the time I was still knee deep in the MHA fandom and was playing the game because a friend recommended it (they’d followed the JP release) And didn’t really absorb much. Books 3 and 4’s release is when I really started to pay attention. My Ao3 page definitely reflects this given stories started appearing in April of 22.

The first thing I really remembered about Cater was Beans Day and I was overall just annoyed with him because I wanted to spend more time with Jade. And Cater it seemed was the reason he kept leaving.

Another thing is I have Cater’s Birthday SSR from the first year (it was the very first Birthday Card we got in the EN version) I do not remember pulling for it, let alone actually getting his card but it’s there so…*shrugs*

It wasn’t until I saw a music video on YouTube set to Kill the Lights, that I even took a second glance at Cater as a character. The video made me compare him to Twice from MHA (I was again still attached to the fandom at the time) and I loved Twice, so I started digging more. Twice has an incredibly tragic backstory and it made me curious about Cater’s.

After that I dug through all the information I could about Cater, both in EN and JP releases, I watched translations of all his available vignettes or others he was in, and events he was a part of. I’ve always loved picking characters apart and I found that Cater was far more complex than I first gave him credit for. There are a few key cards/events that I believe are essential for understanding who Cater is.

First is of course is Heartslabyul’s chapter of the game. I know a lot of people will point to this and say it’s why they don’t trust him or take him seriously, but context is key. Yes, he does “manipulate” the group into doing some of his chores. But in the wider context of the story, Cater is often left doing a lot of extra work around the dorm. Picking up the slack, because of his clones and making up for the mistakes of others. (Trey’s CR Card is a good window into this, along with Trey’s Star Sending Card) And honestly, this is about the worst thing he does throughout the entire game.

What is also shown is that Cater is very forgiving. He’s never actually upset with Riddle for the way he behaves. It’s not that he condones his actions, but he knows why Riddle behaves the way he does and tries his best to be understanding while also helping the 1st years navigate the situation and in a way protect them. (He even asks Trey if he’s okay with what’s going on when Ace and Deuce get kicked out) Even at the end when Ace gets on Riddle for his apology Cater chastises him. In the end, Cater is very conflict averse, he doesn’t really want to fight with people, and would rather everyone just get along (this is part of why he Kalim and Lilia all get along so well in the LMC) I think some people see his reaction in the manga, and take his reason for not wanting to step in wrong. Personally, I don’t think it had completely clicked with him that this wasn’t an altercation that could be ended peacefully. He didn’t want to hurt anyone.

There are a lot of hints that Cater is fairly depressed under his happy come-what-may attitude. His Labcoat personal story is less than subtle about it, (Vil and Lilia straight-up talk about what the Mandrake Cater tried to hide meant), And even his CR card shows that he’s not really a fan of all the socializing he does, and finds it exhausting. He also isn't afraid of death, at least as his clones, in the Heartslabyul Manga he takes a spear to the chest to save Deuce, and in Chapter 2 he creates replicas of the Diasomnia Spelldive team and allows himself to be trampled. The level he's nonchalant about it is a bit disturbing, especially because he can remember what happens as his clones (he makes a comment about not being able to use them to study because the information can get jumbled up) and they have been stated to *be* him. (this is part of why I HC that Cater's clones can confuse Rook's UM because he can't tell a clone from the real Cater)

Another really important one is Cater’s Halloween SSR (and really the first two Halloween events), His SSR is one of the few times we get to see his thoughts so clearly. He’s excellent at hiding his true thoughts and feelings. The conversation he has with Lilia and Kalim about not being really close to anyone, and preferring to keep people at arm's length is heartbreaking because it comes from a place of moving around, being forgotten, and being hurt. Everything Cater does is an effort to get people to remember him, from his guitar to his magicam account.

At the end of his SSR is a very touching moment between Diasomnia as Lilia comforts Malleus, Cater’s left to the side feeling completely bitter about all of it. Angry Lilia thought he could ever understand him when he had connections like Malleus, Silver, and Sebek in his life. Connections Cater doesn’t feel he can ever make. The follow up to this is when he’s still standing there and gets the call from Trey who yells at him because he’s not in Heartslabyul to help solve a problem there, and gets called a liar when he explains what he was doing. (People sometimes ask me why I don’t like Trey and this scene right here is part of that reason.)

As for the rest of the first Halloween, the only time we really see him relaxed is in Lilia’s card. Every other time he’s working, solving problems, or helping other people. Even at the very end when everyone else was relaxing at the after party, he was off comforting the Ghosts who felt guilty about causing all the problems with their picture in the beginning, helping them feel better and bringing the subject up to others.

In the second Halloween event, he was one of the possessed missing students. I don’t think everyone realizes this but all the ghosts made the ones they’d possessed act in the exact opposite of their true nature. (Vil who he was stuck with is a great example, he was crying acting like someone who had no self-esteem, but the things he was saying were in complete contrast to his behavior, which in reality Vil acts like a very self assured person on the surface but deep down he’s a doubt ridden insecure mess. Kalim is another he was angry and violent)

Cater was forced to be cruel and malicious, which lines up with being the opposite of who he really is from the little bits we’ve seen. He often tends to go out of his way to help people. When they needed help in the final act of Endless Halloween when the other students appeared he was the first one to step up to help take care of it. In Silver’s card, he took the time to console him and give him advice but even his advice to live in the moment and don’t care about what happens in the future tells us a lot about him.

Even Beans Day and the fact he stuck with Yuu (something that first annoyed me) is an example of this. A lot of people saw “us” as a liability and ditched the MC in the very competitive game, but Cater didn’t he stayed, and in the end, they almost won.

Other notes along the way are he never really talks positively about his family. He’s always complaining about how overbearing his sisters are. How they treated him like a doll. Bought presents for him that were meant for them, not him, etc. And I know what he says about his dislike of sugar and how it came from one incident as a child BUT that’s not very likely. I have a feeling it was more than *one* incident and a repeated dismissal of his own autonomy in his family BUT that is just a theory. Personally, I think he downplayed the event like he seems to do a lot of these things. It’s very clear he generally conceals how he truly feels about an incident.

He even comments about how he doesn’t want to go home over winter break because he knows his sisters will just put him to work. In his second year birthday jacket card he talks about how his sisters take him shopping and force him to carry everything. Every time his family comes up it's never in a positive context.

In his Silks card, it’s shown he has a problem buying things for himself. Jamil pokes him about it, while he’s buying souvenirs for other people, and in the end, makes Jamil pick something for him. We get hints that Jamil can see past the facade he puts up and that makes Cater nervous BUT we also know Jamil absolutely trusts Cater. He left Kalim in Cater’s care in Silk City, and even though Kalim doesn’t generally eat anything but Jamil’s cooking (not even his own) Kalim is the one that judges Cater’s culinary crucible meal. And the way Jamil conducts himself in Cater’s birthday interview.

Cater also tends to treat people as people. He’s never really been intimidated by Malleus, not the same way other people are (outside Yuu/MC), and will talk to him freely. When realistically he has more reason than most to be afraid of Malleus. It takes a bit of stringing of different card stories and events together, but Malleus has knocked Cater unconscious with his magic before. Because in Malleus’s first Birthday card, he talks about the incident, where Lilia invited him to the LMC, to play music, but he accidentally knocked the members unconscious. We know that Kalim arrived late in his 2nd year and that during Cater and Lilia’s first year, they were very quickly the only members of the LMC until Kalim joined. Meaning when the incident took place the only available victim was Cater.

I also know Cater talks about not having a lot of money/not coming from a wealthy family, BUT I know this isn’t true. While it's not likely his family is as rich as I’ve made them in my stories, they are NOT poor. First off they move AT least every two years, and that is NOT cheap to do. We know his dad works for a bank, but there aren’t many positions at a Bank on any level that would require the person to move so much. Bankers are some of the wealthiest people period (not the tellers or general employees but those wouldn’t require moving) Looking into it, his dad is most likely an investment banker which make $$$. This is also backed up by the fact that he does chase trends that take an incredible amount of money, and he’s talked about doing things like going “Glamping” which costs upwards of 1-1.5k/night Then again maybe his perception is warped by Kalim lol.

As far as his relationships go. I do think his perception is a bit skewed from past experiences. Riddle seems to care an awful lot about him/considers him a friend. I think this is very much a case of Riddle taking Cater at face value, not having the social awareness to realize Cater is faking most of what he’s doing. While Cater is still stuck on the idea that Riddle is just another shallow friendship for him.

I also think Kalim thinks more of their friendship than Cater does. I also always wonder how Vil can insist the only thing Cater wants out of him is fame when *Kalim’s standing right there* While Kalim isn’t famous in the same sense Vil is, he’s INCREDIBLY wealthy and it wouldn’t take much for him to leverage that for his own fame, but we don’t really see him doing that, yes he does make posts with Kalim but it all seems to be in line with his friendship with him and things they do with the club, and the time Kalim invited him to Silk City. There is no hint Cater takes advantage of him at all (which I think plays into why Jamil trusts him)

Speaking of Vil, the reason I ship Cater and Vil is very detailed and delves into the nuance of their interactions and relationship otherwise. I know it’s easy to point at Vil��s “What it means to be a Brand” R card Vin, where Cater talks about how attractive he is and talks about dating him. (I’m still mad they took that out of the English version) as a reason, and while it is part of it Vil doesn’t tell him he won't date him, he tells Cater he can’t afford them. (Which to me sounds like a shallow comment?!?! When he calls Cater Shallow, gets a bit on my nerves but that's another rant)

But what really sells me that Cater’s feelings for Vil are real and not part of his fake facade is his Birthday Jacket interview. He picks Vil as his choice of sibling and then goes on to talk about why he looks up to and respects Vil. It’s not about his physical features, but other traits he likes and appreciates. He seems to understand Vil. And this is my take on it but I think part of why he likes Vil (either romantically or otherwise) is he sees a kindred spirit, someone who puts on a mask to face an uncaring world that expects impossible standards, and the need to always be ‘on’ and performing. Remember it's clear that Cater doesn’t enjoy what he does social media-wise and the like, but it's something he feels like he has to do.

Trey is otherwise not someone he’s super close to. To me, their relationship comes across more like coworkers at a stressful job, than actual friends. Cater himself has said more than once that he’s not close to *anyone* and Trey in the star sending even talks about how even after all the time they’ve spent together Cater still doesn’t seem to trust him with his true self. Trey tends to be very dismissive of Cater’s complaints and Cater in general. And straight up TO HIS FACE told him he’d always be closer to Riddle. (As someone who didn’t have childhood friends themselves, and even now struggles with friends that line right there hurt a lot. That the idea that if you didn’t make a friend when you were a child then you could never be close to someone more than they are to someone else hurt and made me angry. And did not help my opinion of Trey AT ALL Length of time is not the only qualifier to a strong friendship) But yet tends to also be dismissive of Riddle in some cases?!?! And is willing to manipulate him so there's that.

I did an entire write up of Lilia and Cater’s relationship, but a summary is that I find it one of the most unique and complex in the game. Often times Lilia tends to treat the other students like he’s a mentor figure. Not just Diasomnia, but all of them in general when he interacts. Cater however isn’t treated that way and seems to view him more as an equal, and has been shown to listen to and take advice from him when he’s otherwise shown to be very stubborn and determined. And it's possible he intended to stay in contact with Cater when he attempted to leave in ch 7. Cater tells him that he can hit him up on Magicam at any time which means Lilia hasn’t deactivated his account (Cater would likely know that) and Lilia doesn’t tell him he can’t like he had with other attempts to stay in contact, but he doesn’t say he will either so it's more up in the air.

Idia…also seems to listen to him!?! Honestly Idia and Cater’s relationship also probably deserves their own post. I don’t ship them, mostly because I think they’d end up in a self destructive spiral. BUT I do think they could be friends, like really good friends if they could both get past some of their issues. They have a lot in common, especially when it comes to being lonely and detached certain everyone will just forget about them someday.

Over all Cater is an extremely complex person, and really about the only character who we don’t know a lot about. Most of what we have on him is how other characters view him, (which is why I think there is a lot of misconception and distrust of his character for people because they buy into what they see on the surface and move on) and a few scraps here and there into who he actually is under the surface which completely contradicts the persona he presents.

I have a lot of headcanons for him, and while I noted a few here in this, I tried to keep this to most extrapolation from what we see directly in canon. I love Cater, and I hope this helps some people have a better understanding of who he is.

#twisted wonderland #twst #cater diamond #heartslabyul #twst thoughts #twst headcanons

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bigfrozenfan-fanfics · 19 days ago

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The finished book of TBB (auch in deutsch!) for mature audience is now available for download as a pdf and epub file on my Google Drive.

Note: 1058 pages as pdf screenread version (not formatted as a typical book). Next I plan to work on the pdf in book formatting, based on this version for print out.

In comparison to the Tumblr version of my novel it's without images (except for the cover) and I corrected many issues, mistakes and typos, re-formatted everything, added a Table of Contents at the beginning and the character list plus glossary at the end.

And here's the epub3 version as e-book, directly exported from LibreOffice writer, best for reading on a smartphone/tablet (I highly recommend the ReadEra app) or on computers (I recommend Calibre V7):

Attention! These are the 18+ versions including the hot Elsamaren and Kristanna sex scenes! So if you're under age it's better you keep your fingers off!

Since October 2024 it's on AO3 as well, as complete work, including fanart, my edits and aditional notes. In comparison to the Tumblr version everything is corrected, partly slightly rewritten and spell checked.

I would love to see your comments there.

Für die deutschen Leser gibt's jetzt auch die fertig korrigierte deutsche Version (ebenfalls inkl. 18+ Inhalte):

und als epub3 für's Smartphone (ich empfehle dringend die App ReadEra, manche andere Reader zeigen die Datei nicht korrekt an) oder für Computer (dort empfehle ich auf alle Fälle Calibre V7). Diese Version enthält übrigens auch viele der Bilder inkl. Warnbanner für die 18+ Inhalte zum Überspringen dieser Szenen:

#frozen #frozen 2 #frozen 3 #the broken bridge #Die Zerstörte Brücke #epic novel #pdf book #ebook #free for download #bi-lingual #German and english

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calware · 6 months ago

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would you ever share a list of your fave fics to reread ? Id love to hear your recommendations and faves

sure thing :) i'm only going to list works that have been going on for a while (or at least have gotten past the very beginning of the story) and that i've read all the way through. i'm also not going to list any of the super iconic fics i like because this list is already pretty long. these are all based on stuff that i personally find more interesting to read about, mostly focused on the human characters and not a lot of romance

i don't really know if these first two count but they're too good to not include:

Jade Route by spicyyeti

a post-epilogues comic centering around jade, this is my favorite homestuck fanwork. i especially love the artwork and the way it frames the story. it is reaaallllly hard to read it on a phone so make sure to read it on a computer or tablet

House of Dirk by imarriedacherub no rating - graphic depictions of violence - 13,570 words - 20 chapters (unfinished) A sitcom about completely normal and well-adjusted newlyweds Dirk and Caliborn attempting to make a good impression on their son, Dave, and his boyfriend, Karkat.

another comic, this one hosted on both ao3 and mspfa (though the ao3 version has more pages). i like how ridiculous it is. will probably never be finished, sadly

moving on to the actual fics:

Reallocated by breezefulskies mature - chose not to use archive warnings - 324,756 words - 65 chapters (unfinished) Hal finds himself stranded aboard a certain meteor, impact-bound for Houston, Texas circa 1995. And everything spirals out from there. Because sometimes, when a system seems to be just short of defunct, all that is required is to take a step back and reevaluate the materials at hand and redistribute your available resources. And so, with birth comes a countdown on a cycle that begins as it ends: In the red.

hal is mysteriously sent to earth via unknown means and finds himself raising a baby as best as he can, which, given that he's glasses, is not easy. this is my favorite homestuck fic, not just because it's about hal, but also because i love the focus on family dynamics and the plot as it unfolds. begging everyone to read this, i can't say what happens exactly without spoiling things, it's just really really good. at the moment, it updates once a month

Ersatz Abyss by katreal mature - no archive warnings apply - 120,092 words - 39 chapters (unfinished) You look into the mirror to find your own face looking back at you. You laugh. And then you cry. Last, you try and figure out how you got to this moment. The Auto-Responder had long since resigned himself to an artificial existence, his only dwindling hope for escape hinging on a promise that has yet to be fulfilled. Then one day he wakes up, Dirk nowhere to be found. What's the point in getting what you want, if you can't show off a little?

another great hal fic. i managed to get my roommate (who has not read homestuck) to read this and they really enjoyed it, so i'm sure you all won't have any problems liking this one either. there are a lot of fics out there of hal getting a body, but this one is very different in that it's not the happy ending that you might first think it is. this fic perfects the feeling of everything snowballing into a bigger and bigger problem until it all falls apart

Falling for the First Time by nobrandhero teen - no warnings apply - 63,818 words - 11/17 chapters The game is over, Alpha Earth resets to 2009, and Dirk's bro doesn't live up to expectations. The movie director who appears so chill and stoic in interviews is actually a talkative, needy dweeb like his teenage counterpart. It's not a bad thing, as far as Dirk's concerned.

for whatever reason, i'm a sucker for fics where the characters somehow end up on earth again post-game, and out of all the fics that follow that concept this one is my favorite. sadly, this one barely touches on jane and jake, but it's pretty interesting to read about what dirk and roxy are getting up to with their guardians (and the earth) restored to their previous conditions

The Haunted Harley House by hemoanarchists teen - chose not to use archive warnings - 78,462 words - 23 chapters (finished) There is an old house you built a long long time ago, alongside someone very close to you. Now as you don a new name, slipping back into society to care for a descendant, to whom tragedy has left you as her only family left, you take her to the house, the house that bears your family name. You really shouldn't have been surprised when he came to join you. It is his house too, after all.

carlah, a young girl who lives on earth c, has just been taken in by her uncle "jacob harley" after her mother's death. as time goes on, she slowly learns more about the true nature of her new guardians and the house they all live in. normally i'm not that interested in OCs but i love how intriguing carlah is as an outsider of the story. it's really easy to get invested in her as she uncovers a mystery we all know from the beginning and another that we have to learn along with her. shoutout to dysfunctional family dynamics

actually, while i'm at it, i'm going to recommend a bunch of other stuff he's written:

Atlantis Bound teen - chose not to use archive warnings - 33,263 words - 8 chapters (unfinished) Dirk tracks down an old friend

prequel to the haunted harley house but can also be read after (or separately). i really like the dynamic between dirk and vriska here, and i also love the way vriska's repeated reincarnation is utilized. vriska's journey through the newest iteration of her life while dirk watches over her is soooo captivating, especially when snippets of her previous lives are sprinkled in throughout. do you guys love cycles? personally i love cycles

Cherubian mature - chose not to use archive warnings - 54,011 words - 29 chapters (unfinished) The 5000 year time skip never happened, at the dawn of time the gods desperately try to guide the planet into a better future. But with tensions rising it feels like one bad day could bring everything crumbling down.

all of dante's earth-c god fics as a whole changed my brain chemistry and this acts as the beginning (and catalyst) of that overarching story. a lot happens in a very short amount of time

Transitional teen - no warnings apply - 1,860 words - oneshot a simple question what changed when you went godtier?

super simple but also an interesting exploration of the headcanon that players' bodies change when they go godtier. the twist is that each "change" is unique to each character and relates to their Self in some way

Monster under the bed teen - chose not to use archive warnings - 2,573 words - oneshot Skeletons in the Closet mature - chose not to use archive warnings - 2,910 words - oneshot Small Talk teen - no warnings apply - 8,944 words - 6 chapters (unfinished)

putting all three of these together because i believe(?) they're all part of the same narrative

#ask #Anonymous #i say things

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procrastinatingsoicanreadfanfics · 2 years ago

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Vikings (TV) Masterlist

my requests for vikings are currently partially OPEN! please only request imagines, and not oneshots. for those waiting for a continuation of ‘searching home’ or ‘unexpected’ i am so sorry... finishing those two is going to take me a while :/

hmu/msg me to be added to a taglist!

main masterlist | request guidelines

heorte til heorte

(msg me to be added to the taglist!)

relationship: athelstan x alethia stahl (oc) | summary: alethia wanted to go home, to return to her family. instead, she finds herself in ninth-century england. not speaking the language, and still processing the grief of her other life, she searches for an anchor - athelstan. | tags: angst, fluff, timetravel

masterlist | preview | read on ao3

No romantic relationships // character x character

Queendom - relationship: Lagertha x Aslaug | summary: They’ve both loved and they’ve both lost. Perhaps it was time that their hearts warmed again. | tags: angst, fluff

The Lothbroks, aka, the European version of the Kardashians - relationships: none | summary: When Barbie Murray time travels, she finds out that pink isn’t available in Viking times. Luckily, her new besties all understand that boobs are the best and slay (literally?!) with her. | tags: crack, fluff, timetravel

I may be a bimbo, but I’m not stupid - relationships: slight oc/ oc | summary: Ivar kills Sigurd in a fit of rage, but Barbie isn't so quick to forgive cruelness. | tags: angst, crack, timetravel

1st gen Vikings

Strange Woman relationship: Rollo x timetraveler!reader | summary: The woman that appeared out of nowhere could be oh so dangerous, but even a stupid man would know that she was fascinating. | tags: fluff, timetravel

Friend of Thor - relationship: rollo x timetraveler!asgardian!reader | summary: The reader, a fellow Asgardian and friend of Thor and the new King of Asgard, Brunnhilde, falls through worlds as the new guardian of the Bifrost tampers with the magic. | tags: crack, fluff, timetravel

And the Gods wished they were me - relationship: Judith x viking!gn!reader | summary: Judith knows she should not mourn Athelstan. Nor should she even look at Norse heathens. She does both anyway, because Judith was named after a woman that had only rage and death, and she cannot escape her fate. | tags: angst, fluff

Ubbe Ragnarsson

Another day / part 2 - relationship: Ubbe x reader | prompt: we live to fight another day. | tags: angst

Oldest - relationship: Ubbe x timetraveler!reader; platonic!Ivar x reader | summary: It seems that few things change about being the oldest sibling, no matter which place – or time | tags: fluff, timetravel, slight angst

Yggdrasil relationship: Ubbe x reader; platonic!Ivar x reader; dad!Harald x reader | summary: How can you tell your father what happened to you when he’d done it to so many others. | tags: angst, dark/gory

Hvitserk 'Whiteshirt' Ragnarsson

Hvitserksdottir - relationship: Hvitserk x reader | prompt: “I think we need to talk about the fact that I’m in love with you and also that I’m pregnant.” | tags: angst, fluff

Floki’s Cabin - relationship: Hvitserk x reader | prompt: “Just trust me. Please. | tags: angst

Searching Home / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 - relationships: Hvitserk x reader; Ivar x reader | summary: When you stumble upon the ancient Spanish city of Algeciras, it takes you some time to realize that you’ve traveled through time. While that is terrible luck, a merchant couple takes you in. But your peace only lasts so long. | tags: angst, fluff, dark/gory, timetravel

Neither - relationship: genderfluid!reader x Hvitserk | Summary: Hvitserk finds out about genderfluidity and accepts he might not be completely straight | tags: fluff, timetravel

Law of conservation - relationship: Hvitserk x reader | summary: You’ve been working as a tutor at your high school for about a year now. When your parents throw a barbecue party for your new neighbors, their mother Aslaug asks you to tutor her son Hvitserk, who is already a notorious flirt at his school. | tags: fluff

Sandcastles - relationship: platonic!hvitserk x timetraveler!reader | summary: reader builds sandcastles, Ivar doesn’t get it and Hvitserk loves the idea of it | tags: fluff, timetravel

When in Bali... - relationships: hvitserk x reader, ivar x freydís, sigurd x oc | summary: You were supposed to go to Bali with your partner for your one-year anniversary. Instead, you’re there alone, heartbroken. Will reuniting with a friend you know from a summer vacation in elementary school be able to fix it? | tags: fluff

Ivar 'the Boneless' Ragnarsson

Unholy Matrimony - A Sham in Four Acts / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 - relationship: Ivar x reader | prompt: I’ve learnt to love you. | tags: angst, fluff smut

Insatiable Little Heathens - relationship: ivar x reader | summary: drabble, for all of y’all who wanted more of Unholy Matrimony | tags: fluff

Resolve - relationship: ivar x reader | summary: Ivar’s legs hurt but he’s so fucking thickheaded | tags: fluff

My kind of witch - relationship: ivar x reader | summary: You wake up in an unfamiliar bed. The man with blazing blue eyes fascinates you as soon as you see him and as you realize the struggles he faces every day, your admiration for him grows into something more. | tags: fluff, timetravel

Red - relationship: ivar x reader | summary: Ivar finally meets his match. | tags: smut, dark/gory

Serve - relationship: sub!ivar x buff!reader | summary: Ivar keeps teasing you. You finally have enough and give him a taste of his own medicine | tags: smut

Searching home / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 - relationships: Hvitserk x reader; Ivar x reader | summary: When you stumble upon the ancient Spanish city of Algeciras, it takes you some time to realize that you’ve traveled through time. While that is terrible luck, a merchant couple takes you in. But your peace only lasts so long. | tags: angst, fluff, smut, dark/gory, timetravel

Totally artistic - relationship: ivar x reader | summary: When inspiration hits, you can’t stop it | tags: fluff

Sandcastles - relationship: platonic!hvitserk, ivar x timetraveler!reader | summary: reader builds sandcastles, Ivar doesn’t get it and Hvitserk loves the idea of it | tags: fluff, timetravel

Brother - relationships: ivar x reader, hvitserk & reader, reader & oc | summary: You left your home and your brother behind for a reason. Now, a man is causing trouble at the borders of Kattegat, and as Ivar's queen, you take justice into your own hands. | tags: fluff

Unexpected / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 / Part 5 - relationship: ivar x thrall!reader | summary: Ivar finally decides to fuck the slave he’s been eyeing for so long, but when his angry side slips out, things take a turn for the wholly unexpected. | tags: smut

Tarot - relationships: ivar x reader, hvitserk & reader | summary: Your day at the fair has been pretty slow – until a client like no other shows up. | tags: fluff

Imagines

How the Vikings would react to an accidental time traveler and a quiz to see if you’d survive: https://uquiz.com/dVXpgW

Ragnarssons (+Gyda): First Kiss

Social Media

How the Vikings would react to guns and snapchat filters

How the Vikings would react to modern dancing

How the Vikings would react to modern music, and what they’d like

How the Vikings would react to modern concepts of astronomy and space

How the Vikings react to modern haircare

Vikings and Astrology

How Vikings would react to THEM timetraveling

Vikings + getting sick

Vikings + Halloween

Vikings + realizing you’re pregnant

Vikings characters + how they'd react to finding Accidental Time Traveler crying somewhere and not knowing why

Vikings + you on your period (+ more hcs about Ivar)

Vikings + Legos

Vikings + reader being much less stressed in their time

Vikings + single mother

Vikings + Gender Neutral Thor

Vikings + modern food

Vikings + touch avoidant cuddler

Vikings + Kids

Vikings + their history

Ragnarssons + being possesive

Vikings + Maleficent/Fae!reader

Vikings + curls and afros

Vikings + sleeping habits

Vikings + contortionist/super flexible reader

Vikings as modern!uni students

Vikings + affectionate drunk!reader

timetraveling!Vikings + modern tv/movies

Vikings + gen z slang

Vikings + curly haired kids

timetraveling!Vikings + Christmas

Vikings + eras other than their own

Vikings + ivar being remembered/famous

#vikings #ivar #ivar x reader #hvitserk #hvitserk x reader #ubbe #ubbe x reader #ivar ragnarsson x reader #ivar ragnarsson #hvitserk ragnarsson #hvitserk ragnarsson x reader #ivar the boneless #ivar the boneless x reader #history vikings #vikings imagine

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missmonsters2 · 1 year ago

Text

Mirror, Mirror | Two

Please do not copy, repost, or translate my work anywhere else.

PART ONE

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Fem!Reader

Summary: Wanda oscillates between crying and being overcome with confidence to confess. She barely has time to reflect when the devastating news arrives that you have a date, and Wanda needs to formulate a plan—quickly.

*explicit version will only be available on Ao3 & will be posted there after series is completed*

Note: cue the shenanigans of date stalking and taylor swift. Put your hands together for the real MVP of this chapter: Yelena.

Reminder there's no taglist but you can follow my library blog for notifications 💘

Series Masterlist || Library Blog || AO3

Count: ~4.5k

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

This week's philosophical question is: Is it gay to think about your best friend?

The short answer is no. The long, complicated answer is that it might be.

There's logic and reasoning behind this because don't most people think about their best friend? Don't most people plan to have their best friend in the future? If not, then why would they be best friends in the first place?

Sadly, there's a rude awakening in Wanda's wobbly defense. Natasha is the only person to blame for blowing down her defense made of straw when Wanda chats with her on the phone in the evening while you're out for a photoshoot.

"How's Maria doing?" Wanda asks.

"Good," Natasha answers, and Wanda can hear the tap water running and realizes the redhead is doing the dishes. "She'll be coming to visit during Christmas."

"Oh, you must be very excited!" Wanda beams. If it were her, she'd be ecstatic to be seeing you after so long.

"Yeah, it'll be good to see her. I think she's bringing her girlfriend, Sharon. They've been seeing each other for a few months, and she doesn't have anyone to spend Christmas with since her grand-aunt passed away.

"Oh," Wanda's voice is low, brows furrowing. "That seems very fast if she's coming to spend a holiday with Maria. How do you feel about it?"

Natasha hums. "Happy, I guess? I haven't met Sharon, but I've been hearing good things about her. She's able to keep up with Maria's busy life as she's got her own, but they make time for each other."

"But what if Sharon's wrong for Maria, or Maria ends up getting hurt."

"Then I'll break Sharon's legs, but Maria's a big girl. I'll be there for her, but she'll be okay," Natasha chuckles.

"But—"

"Wanda, what's with the questions about Maria?" Natasha cuts off. "Is it something with Bug? Are you worried about Raye? She's told me they haven't even gone on a first date yet; why are you so worried?"

"It's not about that!" Wanda said defensively. "I mean—I am worried, but I just don't want her getting hurt. She's my best friend; she deserves someone perfect. Don't you want someone perfect for Maria?"

Even as the words came out of Wanda's mouth, she grimaced because she was nowhere near perfect herself.

"Of course I do," Natasha sighs. "But unless Maria is hurting, I'm not going to get overly involved with her love life. She'll go at her own pace and update me as she goes."

"But how will you know if Maria is going to continue living away? If she gets serious with Sharon, will Maria still plan to move back here? How will you guys plan on having a wedding at the same time and picking a house in the same neighborhood?" Wanda asks seriously. Her tone is distraught because it feels like Natasha doesn't care about her best friend at all!

There's a moment of silence on the other line before Natasha says, "We don't plan for that. I mean, I'll be bummed for sure if Maria doesn't move back but we'll always be best friends. We'll visit each other and keep in contact as often as we need, but we don't need to physically be in the same place."

And another realization slides into place.

"How are you guys best friends?!" Wanda yells into the phone before she hangs up without another word.

Wanda knows that she'll have to call Natasha later and apologize and say she's on her period or something, but right now, with her eyes hot and wet, she digs her face into her pillow and cries instead.

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

"Hey, I need to head out for another shoot today. Do you want me to pick up anything for you?"

Your voice muffles through Wanda's closed door. You've come in a few times, but Wanda had stayed in bed and pretended that she might've been under the weather.

"No," Wanda says loud enough so you can hear it. "Have fun, though."

"I'll be home soon and make you some paprikash, but there's some chicken soup in the fridge for you if you want some while I'm gone," you reply. Wanda momentarily hears your hand land on the doorknob, but you don't turn it and come in. "Feel better, brat."

You don't wait for Wanda's response even though it is a quiet, "Thanks, stinky."

Alone in the apartment once more, Wanda sighs. She's been all over the place emotionally since she last talked to Natasha on the phone. She later sent a voice memo through text apologizing and said her period just came, which explained all the craziness. Luckily, Natasha was kind enough to leave it be, but they haven't chatted much since then—mostly on Wanda's end.

Wanda's been caught between wanting to spend more time with you and distancing herself while sorting through her feelings. It was so easy at that moment to leave Vision and feel intense jealousy of Raye, but now in their own little bubble, everything was unraveling like a poorly wrapped present.

The only saving grace was that you and Raye couldn't align your schedules to go on a date anytime soon. Raye was out of state currently and was supposed to be traveling for work for the next few weeks, and you were confirming projects that were supposed to be for the entire month.

The extra time was sorely appreciated.

In short, Wanda has cried 8 times in the last week while equally getting the inspiration almost to confess 7 times.

There was a nagging fear, though. What if you didn't feel the same? What if Wanda was reading this one gigantic sign wrong, and you simply just liked brunettes with green eyes?

Or, what if you did feel the same and things didn't work out? What if the two of you date, and it goes wonderfully well before it ends? It doesn't matter what causes the end; just what if it did?

In either scenario, things would never be the same, and Wanda would lose her best friend of 10 years.

Although, Wanda reasons that even if she confessed and you didn't feel the same, she wouldn't actually lose you. Sure, things would never be quite the same, but the friendship would continue. They've endured much worse, and Wanda would probably get over her feelings.

Probably.

Because if she didn't, well, Wanda wouldn't know what to do. She's lived too long of her life with you; she can't think of what it'd be like without you. Logically, she knew she'd survive, but there'd always be a part of her missing.

Sometimes, Wanda thinks there was always a part of her missing until the day she met you. She can still remember 10 years ago like it was yesterday.

"Wanda, it'll be fine," Pietro's accent was thick and heavy, and Wanda refused to say anything out loud to acknowledge it.

The girls in her class were already making fun of her accent, and her attempts to talk to them were rebuffed with looks as if they couldn't believe she dared to speak to them.

It was too difficult, Wanda thought. It was too difficult to make friends when she transferred here mid-year, and everyone had already formed their cliques since elementary.

It was hard enough with the growing changes in her 14-year-old body, and she already felt awkward all the time—the giggling behind her back and to her face wasn't helping.

Wanda wanted to go back home to Sokovia, except there was nothing left to return to. The war had reduced everything to shambles, and everyone else in her family was happy to have been able to seek refuge in America—Rochester, specifically.

Wanda knew she should be grateful, especially since many of her aunts, uncles, cousins, and other extended family couldn't escape. She never really had too many friends, but the few she did went to Canada, and she knew she'd unlikely ever talk to them again.

It was a lot of change, and Pietro was the only person who understood her at this new school, but even he couldn't do much since they shared no classes together. Plus, Pietro had still managed to make a friend, and Wanda didn't have the heart to make him sit with her at lunch every day.

"Do you want me to eat lunch with you? I can ask Sam to sit with us," Pietro offered, but Wanda shook her head.

"Are you sure?" Pietro asked again, preparing to sit with Wanda anyway, but Wanda shook her head.

"No, it's fine. I'm just going to eat my lunch quick and head to the library to catch up on some assignments," Wanda mumbled quietly, waiting for some girls in her class to pass by before she said it.

"Okay," Pietro said, sighing since he was conflicted about staying with his sister or heading off to hang out with his friend. But at Wanda's insistence, he merely told her where she could find him if there was anything and took off with one last glance.

When Pietro was fully out of sight, Wanda took a seat alone at an empty table, pulling out her lunch reluctantly. She was quick to notice that the American kids typically brought a plain sandwich or bought food from the cafeteria, which usually consisted of the same foods like pizza or mac and cheese.

While the comments about the food she brought were also embarrassing, Wanda didn't have it in her to ask her mother to make something else. Money was tight, and asking to add other things to the grocery list just so she could fit in didn't seem worth it when it wouldn't do anything about the fact no one wanted to talk to her.

So, Wanda pulled out the finomfőzelék with her breaded chicken breast. She still didn't open it and let her containers sit on the table.

Wanda wasn't quite sure what was causing it. Maybe it was just this specific instance of sitting alone, or maybe it was the last week and a half of enduring this, but Wanda felt her eyes burn and water. She willed it with everything she had inside to not let it fall and took a deep breath.

"Hi."

The sudden sound made Wanda's head snap up, eyes wide with surprise. You stood there, and Wanda sort of recognized you from her classes. She thought she shared all but one with you. You've never contributed to the bullying but never stopped it or talked to her, either.

Wanda vaguely recalled you've been sick with a cold the last few days. Her eyes shifted to look behind you, and she could see your friends looking very confused and beckoning you to come back to their lunch table.

"Hi," Wanda quietly greeted you back, wincing at how the accent could even come out with one syllable.

You sat down suddenly, clearing your throat. "Can I ask you something?"

"Okay," Wanda replied warily.

"Do you practice witchcraft?"

The question stumped Wanda.

"What?"

"Do you practice witchcraft?" You repeated, looking serious.

"No," Wanda frowned, so perplexed that she couldn't even be upset about her accent. "I don't. Why would you think that?"

"Well, Hela has been spreading rumors that you're a witch from Sokovia, and that's why Mr. Coulson passed away suddenly when you came."

Then, it's suddenly so clear why no one has been talking to her.

"But if you're not a witch cursing people to death, then that's cool," you said, interrupting Wanda's thoughts. "I wanted to ask you that earlier but then I got sick for a few days. So, do you want to hang out with me?"

Wanda just stared at you, her heart racing because finally, finally, she was going to have a friend. "Yes," Wanda replied quickly, smiling. "That'd be...cool," she repeated your slang.

"Cool," you smiled back before pointing at her food. "Noticed you bring different food every other day. Can I try some? I'll trade you some of my sandwich. Heads up, though, my mom has been experimenting with food. This week was Chinese food, so beef and broccoli might be between the bread."

Wanda smiled at the memory, the ends of it tapering off. You changed her life, and even when Hela made fun of you, you shut her up with a comment about how she stuffed her bra. It was devastating to a 14-year-old.

After that, the two of you were inseparable. You still occasionally hung out with your group of friends, but you definitely drifted to spend time with Wanda.

Wanda wonders if it was actually at that moment that she fell in love with you, but at 14, she didn't know how else to interpret it other than friendship.

You and Wanda didn't meet Nat, Steve, Bucky, and all the others until high school when the other districts were poured into one school. Since then, so much has happened.

Your parents divorced.

Wanda's mother passed away from cancer.

You dated Sam very briefly, giving him your first kiss and then shortly breaking up with him after.

You came out to her, scared, hesitant, and so happy when Wanda didn't care.

Wanda started to date Vision.

Wanda wanted to go to NYU, and you happily went there with her.

You confessed you had a crush on Natasha but didn't want to pursue it.

Wanda's first break-up with Vision.

You dated Jean Grey and cried when she left you for Scott.

When you wanted to stay in New York City, Wanda decided to stay here too, rooting her career here with you.

Wanda wonders if maybe actually she'd fallen in love with you several times over and over but didn't know how to interpret any of her strong feelings for you, categorizing them as friendship just as she did when she was 14.

"I'm home!"

Wanda hears the apartment door close and the shuffling of you taking off your shoes. She looks at the time and realizes two hours have already passed. Deciding that she's wallowed enough, Wanda decides to get out of bed and leave her room, running her fingers through her hair to tame it.

When she enters the kitchen, Wanda finds you starting the process of making paprikash. It's something you've always done for her when she's sick, feeling down, or homesick. Yet, in this moment, something swells inside Wanda's chest, and she wants to burst out crying again.

"Oh, hey," you turn around and smile as you see her, and Wanda clears her throat and blinks the tears quickly away.

"Hey," Wanda smiles back as she makes her way towards you. "You didn't have to do that, you know. I'm feeling better."

You open your arms for her to dive into a tight hug. You smell like clean laundry and mint, and Wanda wants to bottle your smell. The tension in Wanda lately starts to drain from her body as you rub her back comfortingly.

"Some paprikash never hurt nobody," you joke. "I'm glad you're feeling better, though, brat. Is it the break-up with Vis?"

"Huh?" Wanda's brows furrow. "No, not really. I haven't really thought about it."

"Homesickness?"

"Er," Wanda fiddles with the back of your shirt. "Kinda, I guess."

"Well, good thing Thanksgiving is in a few months. Your dad and brother are coming here this year, right?"

Wanda nods, brightening at the thought of seeing her family. "Yes, I hope papa and Tony don't get into it again this year."

"I think your dad gets a sick sense of joy of torturing the son of man responsible for all the weapons that destroyed Sokovia," you say dryly. "I think Tony's starting to catch on he's not serious, though."

Wanda chuckles, and you pat her shoulders before you pull away and take out a knife and chopping board. Watch sits on the bar stool, watching you cook, letting things fall into a comfortable silence.

This was everything, Wanda thought.

Nothing could ruin this moment, and Wanda thought long and hard, building up the courage to say something about her feelings. She wasn't sure what to say, so she might start with something flirtatious, but Wanda would say it more sensually instead of the usual joking tone.

"Oh!" You say without looking at Wanda, chopping the onion and garlic. "I forgot to tell you. Raye's flying back in a few days before heading out again, and we planned a date this weekend."

Everything is ruined, and Wanda can't tell if the onion or the devastating news is causing her eyes to water.

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

"Why did you bring me here?" Yelena hisses.

"Because I can't bring Natasha!" Wanda hisses back. "And be quiet or else they're going to hear us!"

"Why not Natasha? She's your other closest friend," Yelena says, quieter as she grumbles. "You're making me miss movie night with Kate. We're supposed to watch Insidious and you're ruining my chances of making fun of her being scared."

"Because," Wanda exasperatedly says. "I've already had a meltdown with Natasha, and she's going to make all sorts of comments if she knows I'm doing this now. I can't be here alone since this is the type of restaurant only couples go to."

"You think I won't make comments?" Yelena raises her brow at Wanda, looking frighteningly similar to Natasha at that moment. "I thought you grew out of stalking Bug's dates in university."

Wanda doesn't reply, too busy staring at your table. Raye is making some kind of flirty comment, reaching across the table and lacing your fingers through hers. You're laughing—Wanda can tell with how your shoulders shake.

The restaurant you've chosen to take Raye to is a slightly upscale steak restaurant. You've ordered cocktails, a bottle of wine, and two appetizers to start.

Raye's biting her bottom lip suggestively before she takes a sip of her wine, her index finger is stroking the back of your hand, and Wanda's wondering if she can bribe a waiter to spill a glass of beer on Raye accidentally.

"Seriously, I know you're best friends, but this is out of hand. Just confess before Raye steals your girl and they get married."

Wanda whips her head back towards Yelena, eyes filled with indignation.

"THEY WOULD NEVER—"

"SHHH," Yelena hisses, and they both have to hide behind their menus when you turn around and look. "Jesus Christ, Maximoff."

"They would never get married," Wanda huffs before peeking outside her menu to see that you've returned to your conversation with Raye. But then she turns back to Yelena. "You know about my feelings? Did you always know? Did you—"

"Shut up," Yelena groans. "No, I was just fishing, and you're the sucker I caught. I mean, was there a time I thought you guys were too close? Yes, but it eventually became normal."

The two of them put their menu's down when it's safe, and Yelena seems to be carefully planning how to explain her thoughts.

"We've all accepted that you guys are very close, but you both kept dating different people—you specifically only dating boys and then Vision. It worked out that we were all going to NYU, but did you know that Bug had an offer to study abroad and do an internship that would've accelerated her graduation and then career?" Yelena carefully looks at Wanda's face.

"What?" Wanda frowns. She vaguely remembers you mentioning the program but recalled you dismissing it. You didn't tell her you were offered a spot in the program. "No, but I mean, she was building her online platform, and it was taking off. She didn't need to do an internship."

"No," Yelena agreed with a shrug, "but it wouldn't have hurt. I suspect she couldn't stand the idea of being away from you for a year. Just like how you turned down the job offer in LA at graduation when you knew she would stay in NYC."

"That wasn't—I just—" Wanda huffs. "I like where I am now. My work is flexible."

"Yeah, but being in public relations, you could've been making twice the amount you are now," Yelena raises her brow again. "Although, at this point, I suspect you both chose adaptable careers in case one of you wanted to move to another city."

"That's not true," Wanda protests.

"Do you even like being a PR?" Yelena asks. "At least Bug loves photography. You, on the other hand, have a talent for PR, but it'd be just as easy for you to do anything else."

"I do like it," Wanda stresses. "It's easy, and the clients I've got keep me busy enough. Just because I don't spend all my time on it or talk about it doesn't mean I don't like it."

"But—"

"Enough talking, our food is coming, and you better be ready to leave at a moment's notice," Wanda cuts Yelena off as the waiter arrives and sets their food down.

"Worst. Date. Ever," Yelena deadpans.

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

As it turns out, Raye lives relatively close to the restaurant as you walk hand-in-hand back to her place.

And not too far behind, Wanda and a reluctant Yelena trail from a distance.

"She's not going to Raye's house, is she?" Wanda whispers with a frown.

"Why not?" Yelena grunts, adjusting her leather jacket. "She has casual flings all the time, and by the looks of their date earlier, it went very well."

"Not. Helping," Wanda glares at Yelena. They enter a street filled with apartments, and Wanda is careful about not following too close and walking under the streetlights.

"This is psychotic," Yelena groans. "Can't we go home? I feel like a literal serial killer out here."

Wanda doesn't respond, just staring ahead as they continue to walk. You're swinging your hand back and forth, interlaced with Raye's. There's giggling, and Raye keeps leaning closer to say something to you.

There's so much sexual tension that it's palpable from here, and Wanda wishes there was a serial killer out here.

How was Wanda going to stop this? How was Wanda going to prevent you from going home with someone else?

Wanda picks up a small rock and chucks it hard toward your general direction, hoping to spook the two of you apart. Except, her aim is so terrible that it flies completely left and hits the car beside you instead.

The car alarm goes off, setting off flashing lights and a very, very loud beeping noise.

"Wanda, what the fuck—" Yelena is cut off when Wanda suddenly shoves her down into a bush and dives next to her. "Ow, you fucking—" Wanda slaps her hand over Yelena's mouth.

You and Raye look behind, completely perplexed, when no one is there. You try to check out the vehicle, but other than a small dent, nothing is wrong with the car otherwise. Since neither you nor Raye caused it, you continued walking.

It turns out Raye lived in the building just a few steps ahead. You both stand at the door, holding hands before Raye throws her arms around your neck, smirking.

Wanda's about to pick up another rock when Raye moves in suddenly for a hot, searing kiss.

And when Wanda watches you kiss back, her hand goes slack. Something awful builds in the pit of her stomach, and there's nothing Wanda can do when she watches you go into the apartment.

Yelena watches Wanda's crestfallen face and sighs. "Wanda—"

"Let's just get back to the car and go home," Wanda mutters as she stands up, not bothering to brush off the dirt, leaves, or twigs from her hair.

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

The car ride home is sickeningly pathetic—a new low for Wanda.

"PLEASE DON'T BE IN LOVE WITH SOMEONE ELSE. PLEASE DON'T HAVE SOMEBODY WAITING ON YOUUUU—" Wanda hoarsely cries out, tears streaming down her face. She's off-tune, and she's screaming more than she is singing.

"Oh, god," Yelena sighs, bringing her hand to her face in embarrassment in the passenger seat. They've stopped at a red light, and the car beside them is staring at them strangely. "This is sad for even you, Maximoff."

Wanda doesn't even acknowledge that she heard Yelena, only belting out, "I'LL SPEND FOREVER WONDERING IF YOU KNEW—"

"Just kill me, just kill me, just crash this car and kill us both," Yelena mutters to herself.

The house is dark when Wanda returns, not that it should be any surprise. Deep down, though, Wanda hoped you'd return home and somehow beat her to it.

Wanda's eyes feel tired and raw from crying the entire way home. Yelena gave her a reluctant hug, mustering all her kindness into rubbing Wanda's back and kissing the crown of her head when it was buried in her friend's shoulder.

Pulling out her phone, Wanda looks at her texts. One from work, a couple of Natasha, one from Vis, and one from Pietro. She stares at your name in her messages, but nothing comes even if she wills it.

Instead, she shoots you a quick "hey :)" and puts her phone away. You'd unlikely answer, but Wanda couldn't help herself.

Sighing, Wanda gets ready for the night, trying to not let her mind drift on what activities you and Raye could be doing.

Please let it be scrabble, please let it be scrabble, Wanda thinks as she finishes brushing her teeth.

As she walks towards her room, she pauses. It's unlikely you'd return until tomorrow morning, maybe even noon. Biting her lip, Wanda turns and walks into your room instead, crawling into your bed under the sheets. She pulls the blanket up to her chin, inhaling your scent slowly.

It both comforts her and makes her heart twinge.

After an hour, sleep falls upon Wanda easily, and she's nearly in a deep sleep when the lights suddenly turn on, and a yelp is heard.

Wanda wakes up suddenly, shooting up with her heart pounding that it's a robber, but it's just you standing at the door with your hand over your heart and chest heaving.

"Oh my god, you scared the shit out of me!" You scold Wanda. "I totally thought you were my sleep paralysis demon!"

Wanda rolls her eyes at the comment but frowns as you calm yourself and rummage through your closet for sleeping clothes. "What are you doing at home? I thought you were going to sleep over at Raye's."

"She got a call in the middle of everything. It was her sister or something having some kind of meltdown. Raye says her sister can be dramatic, and it happens once a month, but she couldn't really hang up. I got sleepy waiting, but I didn't wanna crash there to just sleep on a first date," you answer.

"I'm sure you would've gotten some in the morning," Wanda mutters.

"I guess, but feels weird since it'd definitely be rushed," you take off your jacket and socks before heading to the bathroom. "It's fine, we'll probably reschedule for another date."

"Perfect," Wanda sighs as she starts to get up.

"Stay there, brat," you tell her as you stand at the door. "If you're gonna sleep in my bed, you better commit to the sleepover."

Wanda sticks her tongue out at you, which you return before you leave.

Tapping her fingers against the sheets, Wanda smiles. Maybe the night wasn't so hopeless after all.

PART THREE

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soongtypehuman · 8 months ago

Text

Boo-hoo update

I’m sorry to say I have an update I was hoping to not ever have to make. Some of you already know that I have some serious health issues, but I've been pretty quiet about the extent of what I'm dealing with.

The gist of it is that I have a rare bone disease called fibrous dysplasia that turned certain bones in my skull into tumors and then those tumors grew inward and started crushing my brain, so I had a craniotomy last year to remove as much as was safe and got a cool new titanium implant in my head to replace the removed bone/tumor. The unfortunate result was encephalomalacia, which is the end stage of liquifying necrosis, and now part of my brain is liquid instead of solid (it’s dead, in a nutshell). Most people don’t survive encephalomalacia, much less remain able to function, and most who survive the initial stage don’t survive the three year mark. Even when you do survive it, it often continues spreading. The last MRI showed it had already taken over about 1/3 of my brain. But I’m a stubborn asshole and am still hanging on.

Unfortunately, things aren’t getting better.

I have to have constant MRIs, EEGs, physical and cognitive therapies, and have been on more meds than I’d like to be in order to control seizures and various cognitive issues. I didn’t mention this before, but I had to go through a series of speech therapies just to learn to talk properly again. And the most unfortunate part of this is that my ability to write has been affected. Since the surgery over a year ago, I’ve only made 10 new posts in the Positronic Rivalry series, totaling around 87k words. For reference, I posted over 200k words in 2022. I’ve posted even less this year, and it’s not improving.

With that said, I have to take a step back. I’m not quitting and I’m not walking away from the fandom. I’d like to think I’ll still be able to post here and there. I just don’t know when and under what circumstances that will happen. I most certainly can’t handle the longer multi-chapter fics I once could. Maybe one day, but not this day. Since I started posting on AO3 back at the end of 2021, I’ve posted every Sunday more often than not. I’m sorry to say I can’t make that happen right now, and can’t say when I’ll post again or what it will be. I won't be able to continue with season 4.

But I’m most definitely not leaving the fandom and the people and the characters I love so much. I’ll still be here interacting and posting when I’m able. This fandom and the people in it are incredible and mean a lot to me. Data and Lore and Star Trek in general are integral to my life and general enjoyment.

But!! I’ve nearly completed compiling seasons 1-3 of Positronic Rivalry as well as 2022/23 Kinktobers into files that will be ready to print in physical book format (completely free, obviously), which I’ll make available for everyone to download in various print sizes, complete with covers, which you can then have printed at various POD sites if you’re so inclined. Digital versions will also be available (you can already download various formats from AO3, but they’re not compiled into seasons, don’t have covers, etc.).

I’m also continuing with the Trek-themed crossword puzzles because those are fun and my therapist thinks making them is good for my cognitive rehab.

This update is a massive bummer for me, but I felt it was better to just admit my limitations instead of constantly trying to convince myself that I could continue the way I had been pre-surgery and beating myself up when I couldn’t.

Lastly, I’ve finally taken the suggestion I’ve gotten repeatedly and set up a KoFi. If you’d like to buy me a coffee or toss a coin to your android porn witcher, you can do so right here and I’d be giggling and kicking my feet in gratitude.

Anyhow, I want to thank all of you for being amazing and coming along on this ride with me for as long as you have, and for as long as it might continue in whatever form it takes.

#star trek #fanfic #fanfiction #star trek the next generation #star trek tng #data soong #commander data #lore soong #lore star trek #st tng #kofi

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soscarlett1twas · 5 months ago

Text

one single thread of gold (tied me to you)

↳ The invisible strings laced into the Sakuverse. ↳ 7.2k words / also available on ao3!

Matias stared at the screen, unable to formulate his thoughts. His fingers hesitated above the keyboard, and for each word he punched out, he purged the sentence before it was even finished.

He had suffered this problem before. It was always the first words, then the rest would flow – but with a mind full of ideas and hands eager to type, it was hard to push himself when all he got was a blank screen staring back at him.

Tension grew in his jaw as his teeth ground together. He pulled his hands back and strategically cracked each knuckle, first the distal joints, then the center, until he was left with were slightly looser hands and a still-blank screen. Each crack drifted up into the atrium's echo.

He refocused on the document, but all he perceived was the cursor, blinking in a staccato rhythm. Matias groaned.

His hand found a pen and clicked it a few times, scanning the open pages of his notebook as a refresher. Outlined on them was a short story about a nightmare he had wanted — not so much tried — to write for ages. He had written and rewritten the “stage directions", so-to-speak, of the story many times, finally settling on this version he was quite happy about. And the imagery he painted in his own head, of the scenes of the man's nightmare, how he could link it to the broader narrative of the man's life, how it would predict his future, it made him excited.

So he sat down to write, hands hovering over the keyboard of a school-issued laptop to start crafting what would surely be something great.

And yet. Yet.

A bar (the only black on his empty page) faded and reappeared again and again as Matias tried to conjure the right vocab, the right atmosphere, the right... something.

His hand moved to cover his face, fingertips pressing down his clenched eyebrows and curving down his face, until his palms holstered his jowls and his sides were warmed from the laptop-heat of his hands. His words were nothing to his imagination.

His hands moved once again to cover his face completely.

He was nothing to his imagination.

And he had tried, for so long, to believe that was okay. What were these stories for if not practice? Surely, once he was older, they would flow naturally. His prose would be enchanting, but not purple; his plots would be grand, but not confusing. He would look back on these old words as the small stepping stones to the majesty he would write eventually.

But why must it be eventually? Why couldn’t it be now?

Matias, who had subconsciously slumped down so far in the chair that his back connected more with the seat than his legs, exhaled and pulled himself back up. With one more look at white screen, he opened a new tab.

Pressing the My Drive bookmark at the top of his screen, he navigated through a swamp of miscellaneous documents, scattered thoughts spread across countless files. But what he was looking for would not be recently opened. He typed in its title in the search bar, bringing up a document untouched for months.

As with all his finished stories, this one was formatted all nicely, unlike the standard Arial he drafted in. He scrolled through it with mild attention and read a couple lines from assorted paragraphs.

This was a tale about two people who, throughout the work, became tentative friends. They did not like each other at first, but came around through their joint love of the stars, though very different in how they viewed them – one for science, one for mythology.

It was not fun to write. It is never fun to write, at least, in the moment. But Matias always found himself looking back on the process with more fondness than the finished product. And this was a work he was particularly fond of. (For as fond as one can be about their own work – that is to say, anything net neutral is ‘positive’, and anything less than is negative.)

The descriptions of the sky did it for him and he yearned to be able to write it again. He wanted to describe the world and its beauty, not a man's nightmare. He wanted back that process where, even if it was difficult at the moment, he was writing. Not stuck in his mind with the imaginary dreamscape of a nightmare, his own self an unfit conduit for the ideas he wanted to share. At least with skies and stars, they were pretty just to read. They created a fantasy that, even if the reader was not imagining what Matias wrote, they were substituting it for their own memories of nightfall.

When he exited the tab, the laptop lid closed with it. He needed to do something other than look at the screen.

Matias stood and stretched, rolling his neck and pushing in the chair to the desk. Just waiting for the right words wouldn’t work and he needed to stretch his legs a bit. Before walking away, he took one last look at his notebook, and closed it softly. Anywhere else, he would’ve had some more precaution, but it was doubtful anyone would steal his things at the library.

So he walked away, leaving any thoughts of the story behind him.

He had set up shop at the back of the building, so he flitted between rows and rows of bookshelves. He wove between CD’s on language learning to the record books, to the young adult and fantasy sections. Assorted mangas greeted him in the aisle he walked into.

He scanned a couple of titles with no intentions to take them out, but he liked to window shop. He’d even pull a couple out and read their back, or, if he was feeling particularly dangerous, flip to a random page and read a couple sentences. Then he’d slip them back in and walk away.

He threaded like this between three bookcases, reading spines which fled his mind the second he glanced away. He made one last turn, and, thoroughly unimpressed by his own attempt at clearing his thoughts, turned back the way he came.

On the way back to his desolate writing, he walked up to a World Atlas. It was large, pages spread across its entire podium and then some, open to a random page on Denmark. Matias had little interest in the country, but he liked maps, and this one was so detailed. He approached the atlas and began to leaf through it.

From French topography to the Indian Ocean to the specifics of Somalia’s economics, Matias skimmed through each section, finding himself smiling at it. It was dumb, he knew – but the world was so very big and so very complex, and that was where he found beauty. What a wonder to be able to see it one day. What he would give to make something like this.

He skimmed his fingers along the thick stack of right-aligned pages, opening up to a random one. It was about Iceland.

A map of the country was offset to the left hand corner, most of the spread being taken up by photos about the northern lights. He had heard of them of course, but he found himself in awe of the colors. Even in a stagnant image he could see them pulsing with different hues, the greens fading to blues to purples.

Oh, the sky. What a beautiful thing it is.

His finger traced the harsher lines of the aurora, where the lights hardened to a sheet of color. The flimsy paper beneath his fingertips folded as he shifted them upwards, but Matias quickly fixed it and kept going: Over and over, wondering it how could exist in this world. And how unfair it was that it is out of his reach.

It would be incredible to see the aurora. It was inspiring even in photo form, and what could it be in person? What basin of inspiration could this be for him? His fingers, just tracing the photo, felt as if they had dipped into a pool of magic, drenching themself in the motivation he needed to write.

And the nightmare came back to him, fully written around his inked skeleton, ready to be shaped.

Still staring at the basin, he –

– pulled his fingers away from the aurora clipping and flipped it, as carefully as he could, and lifted his glue stick. Purple glue coated the underside and he pressed it into the paper of his notebook, besides the Icelandic mountains and waterfalls he had cut out earlier. Once satisfied it was secure, he began to reach out for the magazine he left sprawled open, silhouettes now chopped from its pages.

Beside it, scattered atop of the carpeted floor, were many other magazines. Some were still safe, though many more were torn through and falling apart, their confetti guts sticking to the carpet fuzz. Their own images had been sniped and pasted into the notebook, from stills of people to landscapes.

Really, the subject didn’t matter. If Alex liked the composition, or the filter, or the lightning… well, into his notebook it went.

He hummed as he flipped through the magazine, eyes skimming over landscapes far and wide. Nothing quite did it for him, though he did wonder if he should cut out a particularly pretty iceberg… until the church.

Formed like a sharp bell curve, the structure rose into the clear blue sky, its golden lights projected onto the front, bleeding into each crevice of the jagged building. Three windows glowed at the top, small from the perspective, contrasting the dark, tinted part of the building. A singular rainbow window sat above the entrance door, its hood molding casting a deep purple shadow upwards.

Alex turned to grab his scissors when he spied the building's name, unpronounceable on his English tongue: Hallgrímskirkja. He still tried and snorted when it was butchered.

He began the incision at the base, silently wondering if he should only cut out the church or keep the sky (no, he decided, he needed the sky – it established the blues to contrast the rising yellow light), and began to snip away.

He worked cautiously, creating an arch that reached above the church and back down. Once done, he smiled and placed the scissors on the floor, pulling the clipping free from the page. He moved the magazine away and placed the photo down beside him, flipping to a new two-page spread in it. The church was too big to be added to the current page he was on. Besides, something like this deserved its own spread.

Again, methodically, he lifted his gluestick and spread it in curved motions behind the image, and stamped it into his book, careful to center it correctly. Just to be sure, he closed the book and pressed his palms onto its cover, forcing his body weight down to really stick it in there.

Satisfied, he opened the notebook back to Hallgrímskirkja, eyes scoring the photo and smiled.

He turned back the pages to old spreads. He just liked looking at them, to glimpse at his handiwork of images not his own. But they could be.

Alex was giddy at the thought, to do this for a living one day. Taking photos of the world's beauty, where it was its people or landscapes, or even gold-encrusted perfume bottles. He wanted it all.

He was about to turn back to the magazine when a knock echoed through his door. Before he could answer, his parents walked in.

“Alex?” His father walked into the bedroom, eyes catching on the photo clippings before landing on his son.

“Hey,” he responded, sitting up from his floor.

His mother took a couple steps forward. “What are you doing, Alex?”

Smiling at the chance to talk about photography, he immediately opened back up the Hallgrímskirkja page, eager to show them. He stood and held it out to her, his father coming around his mother’s shoulder to see.

He explained he was looking through photos for inspiration, that one day, he was going to take these photos for magazines. Maybe they could take a trip to Iceland as a family! He was about to offer up the idea when his father said:

“So… you want to be a photographer?”

He nodded.

He missed the glances his parents exchanged as he flipped to the back of the notebook, again holding the spread open for them to see.

Plastered across these pages were Polaroids he had taken with the disposable camera they bought him for a school day-trip. They were nothing much – just some landscapes, a couple candids of his friends, but they were his photos, and he displayed them with the same honor as his inspirations.

But this time, he did not miss the waver in his mothers eyes nor his father’s throat bobbing.

“Oh, these are so pretty hunny… why didn’t you show us these before?”

He didn’t quite have an answer to that. He just… didn’t. Alex’s arms loosened, bringing the open book down from their sights and against his chest, where he folded it, subconsciously hugging it.

“Photography is a great hobby, but a career?” His mother sat on his bed.

Still, he had nothing to say, throat dry. He shrugged. How could she go from praising his work to this in the same breath?

The room fell to awkward silence as Alex refused to meet their sights, still clinging to his notebook, and his parents didn’t speak.

“I came to ask,” his father finally began, “if you wanted to come and play with the neighbor kids. They set up a volleyball net – you like volleyball, right?”

“Yeah.” He first tried it on a beach vacation. It was a lot of fun playing with kids his age, and he liked the neighbors plenty, but he was busy. Before he could say so, though, his father clapped his back.

“Great! I’ll tell them you’ll be there soon,” and walked out of his bedroom, his mother kissed his cheek before leaving as well.

Left alone, he let out a little sigh, and flipped the book in his hands. He looked at its cover, plain compared to its pages, made of woven cloth. He bought it ages ago with his allowance. The same allowance he had shoved in a jar, on top of his nightstand, containing a total on its top. His savings for a camera, because they refused to buy him even a disposable one unless it was on a school to-have list for field trips.

Outside, he could just barely make out the sounds of the kids playing, calling for the first –

– serve spiked down and, after hitting inside the lines, bounced out of bounds. Kayson whooped as his team cheered in his honor, and they all shuffled one spot to the left.

The other team stood stagnant, as they had for the last three serves, unable to score a point and move. It wasn’t traditional volleyball: the game the class was playing was altered to give everyone a chance at each position. When your team scored a point, everyone shifted a position to the left. Kayson bounded from the server to the middle of the back row.

And up to serve was a girl who spent the entire class glancing at the clock, anxious to get out of here. He couldn’t blame her. The teams had been randomly chosen, and she had fallen into a group of tryhards who were thriving on the competition – which is to say, Kayson got real lucky.

She squirmed in the position, smiling only when she caught the glimpse of her friends on the other side of the net, as if to mock herself and say “We know this won’t end well, but how funny will it be when I fail?”

The ball got tossed over the net, ending up closer to Kayson than her. He caught it and walked over, handing it over in a quick toss.

“Alright, Mia.” Kayson crouched his knees and balled his fist, swinging it with clear direction to the hypothetical ball in his other. “Just like we talked about. Get some leverage and,” he thrust his fist up and through the ghostly volleyball, “swing up. Make sure to keep your hand balled!” He tread back to his spot, walking backwards to nod as she mirrored his actions.

She curled her lip slightly, knees bending as her arm straightened. Kayson watched, still nodding his head as Mia took a couple practice swings.

They barely knew each other. The only class they shared was this one, and Kayson would be hesitant to call them acquaintances, much less friends. But when Mia had messed up her first serve at the beginning of the unit, laughing at herself before anyone else got the chance to, he had called out some advice at the reserve. And that time, it made it over the net.

He hoped his aid held true again.

She took one last swing and thrust her arm back with more certainty, pushing it forward at just the right angle. He watched as it nearly hit the ceiling before arching back down, landing in the center of the back row.

“Oh! Oh!” Mia’s voice grew in excitement as she realized that not only was it a decent serve, it was a good one – and Kayson shouted back a “Let’s go!” in the rising choir of middle schoolers getting into a good game.

The two teams went back for approximately two passes before the bell rang.

Kayson went to grab his backpack, not missing the small wave from Mia when he turned around. He returned the gesture and smiled.

His friends caught up to him, laughing and jostling each other around as they walked out of the gym. Kayson pushed the one away, claiming his was too sweaty, and the boy retorted that Kayson was worse. Which, he was.

“Alright, I’ve got to go…” Kayson said, trailing away from his friends. His next class was halfway across the school and didn’t want to be late. They said their goodbyes and split directions.

The hallways were packed as they were every passing period. Kayson maneuvered between people, often bumping shoulders, his smile fading to neutrality. Everyone around him looked the same, minds somewhere beyond the cramped halls.

With gym – his favorite class today – done with, Kayson adapted to the melancholy which awaited him at his next classes, feeling any leftover adrenaline bleeding out of him. The rest of the day had little interest to him.

Kayson left the main, packed hallway for the smaller math hall. People loitered outside doors, not wanting to go to their classes yet, or walked beside their friends in twos or threes. He could spy a small crowd inside the bathroom as he passed. Turning the corner, the open door of his Algebra class beckoned.

Cool air hit his sweaty skin when Kayson walked in. His desk was close to the back of the room, a choice he made at the start of the year. His bag slinked to the floor as he dropped it and sat on the even colder chair. His legs stuck to the plastic.

While his table was still empty, others had a filled somewhat. The teacher walked up to one and handed her a paper. She flipped it over and flashed it to her friend, with a big A written in red up top.

And Kayson remembered the test from last class.

The little spark still in him died at the realization, being replaced by the pooling dread of known failure. He had studied, and he had felt good while taking it, but he also knew to be realistic. And realistically, he did not know math.

The teacher finished handing off papers to the rest of the table before making her way over to Kayson, smiling softly.

“Good morning, Kayson.” She rifled through her papers.

“Morning,” he muttered.

She pulled a sheet from the middle of the stack and gave it to him, already moving to another table. He barely looked at it. All he needed was the D before flipping it back over, the pen used to mark his paper bleeding through the back.

He groaned as he lowered his head. He was fine with his B average. Hell, he’d even scored a couple A’s in classes this year, but with the way his math grade was going…

When the C came in last quarter on his report card, he hated showing it to his mom, hated the class, hated himself for it. He promised her with one more bad grade, he’d go to tutoring. And here was his ticket to ride.

He rose and walked over to the teacher, skin like suction ripping from the chair. “Can I go to the bathroom?” He muttered as she turned to him. At her nod, he left, passing the TA’s desk who’d surely be his new tormentor after school.

There was still a line, made up of kids who had yet to leave for class. But when the bell rang they began to trickle out, leaving Kayson to tap his foot on the dirty floor, waiting for a stall, also not quite here to actually use the facilities.

He took a deep breath when he finally got to sit on a non-plastic chair, in that suffocatingly cold classroom, instead relatively alone in the middle stall. He took a deep breath as he shut the door, clicking the –

– lock into place, Luca sat, scratching at his eyes.

His breath was already wavering, but with the final swallow of air came his break, and he folded over on the porcelain, knees pressed to soaking lashes.

He had tried. God, Luca had tried so hard. There hadn’t even been a triggering event. But a building wave must eventually fall.

And out it came, pouring from his eyes with the crash of croaking breaths.

Luca’s hands clawed from cupping his mouth to running along his waterline, wiping tears before they even traced his face. Yet still more came, and for all the grief which choked him, for all the loneliness which sparked the display, his only thought was how to make it stop.

Which made it all the worse when he couldn’t. The resounding loneliness just echoed back to him as one breath became too loud, as even in his misery Luca was still consciously fearful of others, and even more aware that there was simply no one around.

His parents were worried, of course. When he brought home the permission slip, excitedly bobbing at the chance to go to New York City with his class, his parents sat him down to talk through it. What to expect, how to stay safe, whether or not he should go… the last point got brought up a lot.

He insisted he’d be fine. After all, his bullies weren’t in classes who’d go on the trip. His parents asked if he’d have any friends with him instead.

Despite him drawing a blank at the question, his parents still let him go. Oh, how he wished they didn’t anymore.

Luca pressed his palms to his eyes.

It hadn’t even been a bully – if it were, at least somebody was thinking about him, talking to him – instead it was complete isolation. Not a single conversation with another kid for the two days they’d spent in the city. When he tried, he was met with some form of swift rejection.

He convinced himself it was fine. He was fine, until he wasn’t, and at dinner it was all too much. He sat with the teachers, glanced over at the table he should be at, and excused himself politely.

Only to end up in the bathroom, the only place he could let the feeling engulf him, ironically praying he was left alone in his sadness as if that wasn’t the cause of it.

No, he didn’t want to be alone. He wanted his mom. He wanted his dad. He wanted the people who loved him. But they were unreachable.

At the thought, another wave of sadness crested over him.

This time he let himself cry.

He did not know how much time had passed, only that he was spent when tears turned to a thin plaster on his skin. He had barely moved from his hunched position and an ache grew in the small of his back.

Luca swallowed the rising weight in his throat and sat up. His eyelashes brushed his face as he shut his eyes tightly, feeling the cool tears on both. His mind started to work again, no longer suffocated with his misery, instead slowly turning with coherent thoughts.

But remain did the feeling of hollowness in his chest, perhaps sculpted out from his sobs – Luca felt it as he breathed, tasting iron on the lip he was biting, eyebrows furrowed. If anyone could see him, the uncharacteristic look of anger would shock them. Or would it? To recognize it’s unrecognizably would be to know him, to know he was not angry, to know he was simply clenching trying not to cry again. But nobody did.

Or perhaps they would be affronted by it not because he was him, but because of what he seemed to be. He was small, frail in stature and always looking if trying to hide away. He was meant to be unseen, not to be unseemly.

For what he hoped to be the final time, Luca rolled toilet paper and dabbed it to his eyes, then promptly threw it into the bowl. He watched it flush.

The door opened with a shove. Luca appreciated it’s coverage, working almost as an entrance to another room inside of a bathroom stall. Perks of crying in a nice restaurant.

He walked over to the sinks and motioned underneath the faucets with his fingertips. He just sat there, letting himself feel the water.

He dabbed it on his eyebags. Like a coal, he could feel himself cooling under the water. Luca massaged it into his skin and dipped his fingers back under for more. This was a familiar ritual to him.

He barely noticed the door opening, though the familiar voice of a teacher brought him to.

“Luca?” He startled.

Mr. Polis, a Biology teacher, stood at the door. Luca never had his class, a fact he was often grateful for – many said he was tough and an even harsher grader. Even as he looked at him, there was a certain edge to his gaze. It was laced with worry.

He made an obnoxious sniff to recall mucus and winced at how it echoed. “Hi, Mr. Polis…” Luca turned his head and walked to dry his hands, suddenly even embarrassed of his ablution.

He stayed turned to the towels as another faucet began. In the mirrors he could see the teacher washing his hands. Curiosity spiked, but he wasn’t going to ask.

“One of your classmates decided to spill their drink on me,” he said, as if reading Luca’s mind. He sighed and waved his hand under another dispenser. When it didn’t work, his exasperation grew to an annoyed hum as he began to walk towards Luca. “Excuse me.”

Luca stepped aside, away from the mirrors as the teacher got his towel. He stared at the crumpled brown paper in his hand. Luca tried to fold it another way so he could blow his nose again, but already so small, it was useless. He’d get another when Mr. Polis left.

Luca still tried to avoid his sights as he walked over to the trash, rubbing his eyes to hide better.

“Have you been enjoying the city so far?”

Luca still didn’t turn to him. “Yeah… it’s been fun.” His voice was rough.

“Good, good.”

The man came beside him and threw his own towel away.

“Would you like a hug?”

It was an awkward question, but it startled Luca enough to make him look at the man. His expression was creased in worry, but a comforting smile played on his lips as his hands opened slightly.

And just like that, he threatened to burst into tears again.

The teacher wrapped his arms around Luca, reminiscent of his father’s comfort, and held him for a short moment. This mean, harsh teacher was the only one who offered him any comfort, a member of the small few who noticed, and then cared, about his emotions.

Luca was inevitably the first to pull away, arms loosing around him at the force. He didn’t want to tear-stain the man’s shirt. It already took a blow this evening.

“Do you want to talk about it?” He asked.

Luca shook his head, another obnoxious snort echoing in the room.

“That’s alright, just… don’t hide away. The teachers are here if you need us.” The man nodded his head with a thin-lipped expression. “When you’re feeling better, feel free to join us back at the table. I know we said no dessert but… you’re sitting with us. I’ll get you a hot chocolate or something.”

Mr. Polis walked out of the bathroom, leaving Luca alone with his thoughts once more. He swallowed the rising lump in his throat and went back to the sink, dampening another paper to cleanse his eyes.

A teacher. A teacher cared for him, a boy he didn’t even teach.

Something indescribable washed over him, and Luca pulled the towel away. He folded it over, the paper rough under his touch as he pressed it, once more, to his face. He wadded it up. As he walked away, he lightly threw it into the –

– trash can. He winced as the paper slit his fingertip.

He turned his finger to see the damage, but the cut was so thin it wasn’t even visible. With his thumb, he pulled the skin taut, feeling the burn of a paper cut but still, nothing.

Andrew groaned and grabbed his pen, going back to scribbling down notes as the video he neglected to pause shifted focus to the importance of Chilean copper mines in the 1970’s and how they partly incited the American-sponsored coup d'état.

Riveting.

The video was meant to help him study. It had good coverage of American-sponsored insurrections in the Cold War era, the current topic in his history class and the basis for a presentation he was set to give Monday. But even for a man who enjoyed these things, Andrew’s mind couldn’t help but loll. Every sentence sounded muffled. Even his eyes weren’t focused on the graphics. They watched the time instead, on the far right corner of his laptop.

The numbers lay stagnant, Andrew’s mind beginning to wander back to class. Back to the boy.

He rewound the video with a tense hand.

Again he heard the explanations of Chile’s nationalization of the copper mines and jotted down a couple points he thought were important. But when he rested his hand on the notebook page, he moved his finger slightly, and with it came a burgundy smear.

Andrew recoiled, briefly forgetting the paper cut. But the thin line had started to bubble with blood, painting more than the paper red. There was a spot on his pen as well.

He groaned, slamming the space bar to pause the video before getting off his bed. Though, he was also grateful to be without reminder of class for a moment. They had band aids somewhere in the house, he knew, but specifically where was a mystery.

His feet pattered on the upstairs carpet, turning to a hollower sound as the stairwell became wood. Descending into the small foyer he opened the cabinets directly to his right. He was cautious to keep his bloody finger off the furniture. After a few moments of looking, he found no band aids.

He blinked tiredly at the spot where he thought they’d be, throwing his head back in mild exhaust, catching the gaze of the crucifix above the drawers.

Andrew stared at it for a few moments, then hurriedly left the room to continue his search.

He found more miscellaneous cabinets, but as he looked through them, he couldn’t help but feel the divine gaze on him. Somebody – God – was watching him.

He turned around, scanning the empty room as if to find a ghost with him. Nothing was there. He turned back to his search, pulling open another drawer and scanning with new vigor. Andrew wanted to be back up in his room quick.

The feeling had, admittedly, been the thing to distract him earlier. It had been following him all week, though never as strong as it was in this moment. The cross and its waxen martyr could hear the sin in his mind, he was sure of it, as it was filled with… disquieting thoughts.

Andrew tried to shake it from him – the thoughts of class, watching the teacher, eyes drifting down to the boy beside him – but it was no use. He could lie and say he didn’t purposefully look in his direction, but what use would it be when he couldn’t even convince himself?

Everything began to remind him of his failure. Even the damn copper mines.

Andrew let out a huff of bitter laughter. How...

...romantic, he finished, quieter than the minds echo, a thought inside a thought. Something welled inside him. It wasn’t romantic. Nothing about this was ‘romantic’. Romance wasn’t… it wasn’t made up of… how would a relationship like that even work?

Andrew’s mind slowly turned to more intimate ideas. He made a face as he sharply pushed them out. Though the idea that he had thought them (and did so willingly, though he wouldn’t admit it) shocked him. Scared him.

Suddenly jolted from his mind palace of worry, Andrew looked directly at a box of band aids that had been in front of him for God-knows how long.

He blinked once at it. Twice. Then he delicately pulled back the loose flap on top and got a small bandage.

He stared at it, cut long dry and crusted over with blood. It shook. The band aid was shaking.

No, he was shaking, but he wasn’t going to look at himself and admit that.

Andrew placed it back in the box and slowly shut the cabinet. He stared at the dark wood, trying to reground himself in reality.

He turned back to the stairwell. Jesus watched him climb the stairs. His gaze followed him into his room.

He wasn’t. He could be. He could even think of the word. Not because he could remember it, but to let it ring in his head, in his voice?

Andrew swallowed rising bile as he convinced himself to think it, at least. Because was it better to refuse it, or to proudly state it negatively? Was he weaker for letting the guilt (no, not guilt, because he was guilty of naught) consume him, or for thinking of these things to begin with?

He was not ‘into’ men.

He was not gay.

He was not –

– queer name, Dedalus, and I have a queer name too, Athy. My name is the name of a town. Your name is like Latin.

Isaac skimmed over the passage. This section was a nice break from the confusing nature of Joyce’s earlier prose. He could appreciate the dedication to writing as if through a toddler’s perspective, but enjoyment was a different metric. At least these lines were brief and conversational.

Well, Isaac mused, nothing could be as dense as Ulysses, even if by the same author. And even if Isaac had never read that labyrinth of a book, he knew how torturous it was.

So he continued reading about children and their discussion of riddles, even if the one was quite poor at them.

—Can you answer me this one? Why is the county of Kildare like the leg of a fellow’s breeches?

Stephen thought what could be the answer and then said:

—I give it up.

“I wouldn’t say it’s early, but I don’t often get a call from you at this hour.”

Isaac froze, eyes looking at the words on the page but not quite reading them. That was the voice of his grandfather.

Isaac’s brow furrowed. He straightened himself and kept on reading.

—Because there is a thigh in it, he said. Do you see the joke? Athy is the town in the county Kildare and a thigh is the other thigh. “What could be so important, Asriel?”

Isaac didn’t get the joke, yet he kept reading. The book trickled back into dense prose and it failed to capture his attention. Instead, the words of his grandfather seemed to get louder as Isaac unintentionally focused on them.

“The Skoligs? I thought only the Vex had connections to your circle.”

Isaac stared at the paper.

His father… must be a magistrate too… He thought of his own father… while his mother played… when he asked for sixpence…

He read and reread the paragraph, never quite catching what it was saying. It began to frustrate him, the lengths to which is own mind refused to ignore the man in the other room.

“Checks and balances, I understand.” His grandfather’s voice got louder as he turned into the hallway and noticed Isaac in the drawing room. Isaac’s periphery betrayed the old man’s lingering gaze before he kept walking and entered the kitchen, which was still close enough for him to hear. “You’re saying Stockton is a playground for higher forces. What stake do you have in this?”

Silence, again.

He thought of his own father, of how he sang songs while his mother played and of how he always gave him a shilling when he asked for sixpence and he felt sorry for him that he was not a magistrate like the other boys’ fathers.

There. Isaac read the sentence and understood it. Finally. His took a moment to clear his head once more, unwittingly glancing over towards the direction of the voice.

“I didn’t take you to be the sentimental type.”

Isaac waited as the other line was deaf to him, before his sight refocused on the page. No. He didn’t care. His grandfather’s work was nothing to him.

Isaac began to read again, his mind wading through the twisted writing and trying to make sense of it. But the buzz of his grandfather’s gruff voice never failed to waft back to him.

He focused even harder on reading.

Isaac made it halfway down the page before: “Don’t make this my families business. Again.”

Isaac’s sight stopped dead.

Who did he say he was on call with? Asriel? The question betrayed his apathy. A vitriolic expression bled onto his face. Who was he to blame that on someone else? He made it his families business, whatever it was – his work was their downfall. He was their downfall. Who but he could have made it his parent’s problem? Who was Asriel?

The silence was deafening as he waited for any answer, wiggling his ears childishly as if it would help him hear a response.

“Anything involving that woman was my families business,” his grandfather barked. Even Isaac was slightly taken aback. His eyes were glued to the wall, as if to bare through them and face his grandfather entirely.

That woman… Isaac raked his brain for whoever that could be. He came up blank. There was no woman significant enough to his family, that he knew of, to solicit that reaction from his grandfather.

His grandfather rounded the corner and Isaac threw himself back in the direction of the book. He did not try to read the words, but met the paragraph he had long bore at and the shape of two words in particular. Father and mother sat inked before him. Silence enveloped a long moment.

When his grandfather began to speak, Isaac could no longer handle being even near the man.

As he stood, the book folded back together harshly, closing him away from the specters of a family. Isaac began to walk in the opposite direction of his grandfather, towards his room. As he turned into the hallway, the words “wraith” and “leader” hit him.

Isaac quickened his pace, one final name gracing his ear; “Terra,–“

– Warden’s voice ricocheted outside the car, his large figure shoving on a coat as he emerged out of the house. He waited for a second, listening to an inaudible response, before climbing into the drivers seat.

Elias scooted even farther down into his seat, knees propped up higher than his head as his spine curled to an uncomfortable degree. But he was too engrossed in his 3DS to notice – Elias had a Riolu to catch and a gym badge to obtain, he had no time for the meager discomfort in his neck.

Warden turned the car on and, as the engine whirred to life, glanced back at Elias and chuckled. “Enjoying the game?”

Elias barely heard him, staring daggers at the Poké Ball which shook once. Twice. Then a shadowy sprite of Riolu emerged from its wake. Elias groaned and managed to slink even farther down.

“Don’t ignore your dad, Elias.”

He looked up to see his mother’s hair swishing as she put on her seat belt, then turned to face him with furrowed eyebrows and a teasing smile at her lips.

“And sit up,” her voice gaining a sudden starkness as she took in his form.

Elias scrambled to do just that, the commanding tone of his mother’s voice, full of love yet still slightly terrifying imploring him to have perfect posture and a clicked in seat belt within moments. She nodded and turned back around.

When his dad repeated the question, Elias shifted the 3DS back into his lap. “Yeah, I am.”

“Good,” was all his father responded with. As he looked over his seat to pull out of the driveway, he smiled at Elias.

The boy waited for a bit before returning to the game. He didn’t want to risk not hearing someone again and them actually getting annoyed. But as their conversation lulled into something work related, Elias eagerly snatched the system back up and honed his attention to the screen.

And when he finally managed to catch the Pokemon, his grin stretched ear-to-ear.

He navigated to the menu, pressing save and shutting the console with a snapping sound. He often got a headache from playing video games in the car. One already was teasing at the front of his head.

Thankfully, the window glass was cold where he placed his cheek. Roaming Stockton streets passed by in a blur, concrete on concrete on concrete. Elias played a game with the metal fences: He’d find their endpoint, wait for them to pass him, then ‘jump’ to the next with his sight. It kept him entertained in the monochrome, if slightly dizzying.

There was a small park, however, on a street they passed. When his mom told stories of her youth, which was rare, the park had come up – one of her friends began a garden within it to help the community.

He glanced at her. Her eyes were closed, though mouth still moving as she explained something to his dad.

Unintentionally, Elias mimicked her movement. He reclined in the seat and rested his head somewhat lopsidedly, twiddling the game console in his hands, watching as the outside greenery quickly bled back into gray. His friends own came to mind.

Elias closed his eyes to the thought of him showing off his catch. Oh, it was going to be awesome. He couldn’t wait.

#sakuverse #zsakuva #zsakuva matias #zsakuva alex #kayson mayer #zsakuva kayson #luca pearce #zsakuva luca #andrew marston #zsakuva andrew #isaac rhoades #zsakuva isaac #zsakuva elias #jesus that's a lot of tags #for anyone wondering the book Isaac was reading is 'A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man' by James Joyce #divider by cafekitsune

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