#decided to let the other story/drawing cook more

[salamispots]

making a little comic with the little sea angel/sea butterfly friends 👀

+ some sketches when I went to the aquarium (again hhsh)

[inseobts]

If it's not too much to ask but could you please do a story of only one of the Monster trio like Luffy or Zoro or Sanji? (Or the whole straw hat crew) with a reader whose birthday it is on the same day as a holiday like valentine's day (even though we've already went past it, or it could be any other holiday that you think?) But only her best friend (one of the crew members) remembers her birthday and now the others feel bad, so they decide to throw an "apology birthday party" to make up for it?

Apology Birthday Party

zoro x strawhat!reader

a/n: I hope this is what you wantedddd, let me know if you want it different tho (づ￣ 3￣)づ

words count: 1.3k

tags: sfw, romance, soft zoro, nico robin bff

masterlist || ko-fi

The Sunny is draped in pink and red decorations, hearts scattered across the deck like confetti. Sanji is running around serving chocolates and heart-shaped treats, Nami is counting stacks of berries won from lovestruck islanders, and Luffy is eating whatever he can get his hands on.

It’s Valentine’s Day. And it’s also your birthday.

But no one seems to remember that last part.

You don’t say anything, of course. It’s not like you expect them to throw a big celebration or anything, but a simple “Happy Birthday” would have been nice. Yet, with everyone wrapped up in the holiday of love, your special day is completely overlooked.

Well, almost everyone.

“Here” Robin says, appearing beside you with a small, neatly wrapped box in her hands. She smiles, that knowing glint in her eyes as she hands it over “Happy Birthday.”

Your heart warms “Robin…”

“I know how it feels to be forgotten” she says gently “But you’re not.”

You unwrap the gift to find a delicate bookmark pressed with dried blue forget-me-not flowers. It’s beautiful. And, fitting.

Before you can properly thank her, a loud, boisterous laugh fills the air “Oi, Robin, what’s that? Love letter for y/n?” Luffy grins, oblivious as ever. That, of course, draws the attention of the rest of the crew. Sanji practically skids over, hearts in his eyes.

“A love letter?! From who?! I’ll destroy them—”

Robin sighs, sipping her wine “It’s her birthday present.”

Silence.

Utter, dead silence.

The entire crew stares at you, then at Robin, then back at you again. The color drains from Sanji’s face. Franky’s jaw quite literally drops. Usopp nearly chokes on his own spit. Nami’s eyes widen, and Chopper gasps in horror. Even Luffy, who usually doesn’t have a care in the world, looks like someone just told him there’s no more meat on the ship.

But the worst reaction? Zoro’s.

His eye snap to yours, and you see something flicker behind them, something that looks suspiciously like guilt.

“Wait,” Usopp wheezes, gripping his head like it physically hurts “Today’s your birthday? Like, right now?”

“…Yeah.”

A chorus of expletives follows.

“We’re horrible!” Chopper wails, flopping dramatically onto the deck.

“How could I forget such an important day?!” Sanji cries, dropping to his knees like he’s been personally betrayed.

Robin chuckles into her drink “At least you all realized it before the day ended.”

That kicks everyone into action. Nami immediately starts planning an emergency “Apology Birthday Party” barking orders while Franky dashes off to set up decorations. Luffy insists on getting you the biggest cake possible, while Sanji declares he will cook a full birthday feast worthy of redemption. Usopp starts crafting a birthday gift at lightning speed, while Chopper is still crying about how bad of a friend he is.

In the middle of all the chaos, you catch Zoro watching you. His arms are crossed, his expression unreadable, but there’s tension in his stance. And then, without a word, he turns and disappears below deck.

You don’t see him for the next hour.

By the time he returns, the impromptu party is already in full swing. The crew has somehow managed to pull together a spectacular celebration, with streamers, food, and a birthday banner that is only slightly lopsided. You’re seated at the center, laughing as Luffy shoves an unreasonable amount of cake into his mouth.

Then Zoro drops something onto the table in front of you.

You blink. It’s a small box, wrapped haphazardly, almost like he struggled with it. When you glance up at him, his face is turned away, slightly pink at the tips of his ears.

“Tch. Don’t make a big deal out of it” he mutters, arms crossed.

Curious, you open it and your breath catches.

It’s a charm. A small, silver sword pendant attached to a simple chain. The craftsmanship is rough, but undeniably his.

“…Did you make this?”

Zoro shrugs, still not looking at you “Had some spare materials lying around.”

Your fingers curl around the charm, warmth blooming in your chest “I love it.”

“…Good.” His voice is gruff, but you catch the corner of his lips twitching, just slightly.

The rest of the crew watches with barely concealed interest “Oi, oi, does this mean Zoro is getting all romantic now?” Usopp teases, wiggling his eyebrows.

Zoro immediately glares, hand twitching toward his swords “Say that again and you won’t live to see tomorrow.”

The laughter that follows is the best sound you’ve heard all day.

Maybe your birthday started off forgotten, but as you sit among your chaotic, wonderful crew, a handmade gift resting in your palm, you can’t help but think this turned out to be the best one yet.

The party goes on for hours. Sanji serves an extravagant feast, each dish crafted with your favorites in mind. Luffy challenges you to an eating contest, one you gracefully decline, knowing it’s a lost cause. Nami surprises you with a beautiful set of earrings, and Usopp proudly presents a handcrafted figurine of you in an exaggerated heroic pose.

Franky insists on a dance party, much to your amusement, and even Robin joins in. Chopper, still sniffling, clings to you, vowing to never forget your birthday again.

Through it all, Zoro remains close, never one for loud festivities, but always within reach. Eventually, when the night winds down, you find him on the ship’s upper deck, gazing at the stars.

“Thanks for the necklace” you say, leaning beside him.

He grunts, but doesn’t move away “Yeah.”

A comfortable silence settles between you. The ocean breeze is cool, but standing next to him, you feel warm.

After a moment, he exhales “…Sorry for forgetting.”

You glance at him, surprised by the quiet sincerity in his tone. Smiling, you shake your head “You made up for it.”

He finally looks at you then, and in the soft moonlight, his expression is softer than usual “Good.”

Zoro stays silent for a while, avoiding your gaze, and then adds, "Actually... I had prepared it for Valentine's Day."

For a moment, you remain impassive, smiling at the sea in front of you, but then your brain connects what he said.

You suddenly turn to him and gasp, "Wait, wh...what do you mean?"

He continues to avoid your gaze, trying to look indifferent, but the redness in his ears betrays him "I admit I forgot your birthday, but I didn’t forget Valentine's Day" he says.

You, even more flustered, reply "So it’s true what Luffy told me earlier, that you worked on the necklace for more than a week??"

Zoro shifts uncomfortably, scratching the back of his neck. He looks away, clearly embarrassed but trying to act nonchalant "I... I just wanted it to be perfect" he mutters, his voice barely above a whisper.

You blink, still processing the confession. It’s hard to believe this is the same person who usually brushes off any sort of emotional display "Zoro," you start, your voice soft, "You really made all of that... for me?"

He finally looks at you, and for the first time, his usual tough exterior seems to crack. His eyes are slightly hesitant, but there's a genuine warmth there, almost like he’s afraid of your reaction "Yeah, I did. It’s... not much, but I thought you’d like it."

You take a deep breath, your heart racing as everything sinks in. You can’t help but smile "I love it," you say, stepping a little closer "And I... I love that you cared enough to do this."

Zoro looks almost startled by your words, his cheeks turning a deeper shade of red. He clears his throat awkwardly "Well, don’t go getting any ideas... It's not like I’m suddenly a romantic or something."

You laugh, the sound light and genuine "I never said you were. But this is pretty damn romantic, Zoro."

He grumbles but there's a soft smile tugging at the corners of his mouth "Don’t get used to it."

You both stand there for a moment, the sound of the waves crashing against the shore filling the space between you. It’s not the most conventional confession, but somehow, in that moment, it feels just right.

And just like that, your birthday, and even Valentine's day, is perfect.

[ros3ybabe]

🎀 Hobbies 🎀

I feel as tho I don't have much time to do things besides school, work, some chores, and survive right now, but I've been thinking about some hobbies I enjoy and would like to incorporate into my life when I decide to make the time without burning out!

Reading - I used to be big on reading just about any books I could get my hands on. Then I was really focused on reading self help, and now that I haven't been reading at all, I've been thinking about getting back into reading. Always looking for book recommendations, and I do have my eye on some books I'd like to purchase.

Gardening - if I had the time and space, I'd love to have a flower garden or a vegetable garden. It always makes me happy when the fruits of my efforts come to life, so tending to plants and gardening sounds super fun and relaxing.

Video Games - I used to play video games on and off, but I wouldn't mind owning a PS4 or a Switch and spending some time playing video games whenever I'd want time to wind down.

Cooking/Baking - I love learning things, and the sense of pride I've gotten in the past when receiving praise for things I've cooked or baked has really driven me to want to increase my skill. I've only baked something from scratch once in my life, but I'd really like to expand my skills in making desserts.

Exercise - I'm talking all forms of it! Dancing, martial arts/kickboxing type activities, yoga, pilates, running, swimming, spin/cycling, weight lifting (again), calisthenics, all of it! I don't currently look like the exercise type but I find various forms of movement to be so fun! If I had more time, I'd be trying new things all the time!

Volunteer work - This is something I used to do all the time, and it's a hobby that I enjoyed that kept me humble. Not only that, but I thoroughly enjoy showing kindness and compassion to others. Making a difference in anuwau brings me so much joy, and I love meeting new people and learning their stories. I also would love to volunteer with animals, because they deserve so much love and affection too!

Drawing/Art - I used to draw for fun but when I started college, I didn't have the time to devote to continuously increasing my art skills. I still own a sketch kit, coloring materials, and several sketchbooks so it really is a matter of having time.

Crochet - The thought of making things that I can gift to others seriously makes me so excited!! Crochet seems like such a fun, crafty, relaxing activity and the added fun of gifting those crafts to others would make it so fun!!

Scrapbooking - I don't know if I'd ever do this one, but I do Ike the idea of keeping my memories in a physical space, and not just in like pictures on my phone.

Learning - if school wasn't crazy busy, I'd spend all my time learning languages (ASL, Japanese, Spanish, Korean, Mandarin, Italian, etc), computer coding skills, how to make and do certain things, just anything I can do to keep my mind enriched.

Upcycling/Altering Clothes - I would love to upcycle or alter articles of clothes into more personalized pieces for myself. The thought of having a personalized, hand made closet full of clothes makes me really want to buy a sewing machine and learn how to use it to my advantage!

That's all I can think of for now that I'd like to someday incorporate into my life. Having hobbies is always so fun, but I've been so busy and tired that I don't mess with any of the hobbies I'd want to do. If anyone has any tips for time management, or resources for beginning new hobbies, please let me know!!

til next time lovelies 🩷

[yan-randomfandom]

P!Yandere!Pines Family x GN!Teenager!Reader

[PLATONIC] a continuation to this! decided to just make them all yanderes cuz y not lol errmm just subtle ykwim... i'm not proofreading all this so just have my draft

warnings: staring, violence, alcoholics, abuse, blood, implied murder. woah intense

❤️‍🔥

"Then I saved Ford by slicing its eye! You should have seen it!"

You laughed, settling down from your dramatic gestures that you've been making throughout the entire dinner. The entire Pines family watched you in awe, especially Dipper and Mabel, easily captivated by your personality and story.

"Yes, well, they certainly saved my life," Ford chuckled as he fed himself a spoonful of food.

"You have to stop lettin' kids save your life so much," Stan scoffed.

Dipper grabbed a book out of nowhere, clicking his pen in preparation—

"No writing at the dinner table! We talked about this!" Stan called out, earning a sheepish smile from Dipper who immediately drops the book on the ground.

"But what did the monster look like?" Dipper stammered, eventually turning to you with a curious look on his face. He looked eager to learn more. That's what you can tell anyway, if you remove his reddened face, which is most likely from embarrassment.

Mabel, who sat across from you, leaned towards you with the biggest smile on her lips. You grinned back to return her energy. "Bet it was super gross! Was there a lot of blood?! Blaarrrgghhh!!!"

"No gross sounds at the table, pumpkin!" Even Stanley felt like he's tired of his own voice. This is him trying his best to not let you be uncomfortable. Well, he supposed you and his brother brought up the story in the first place.

Speaking of, why were you even here? Ford came back in the mystery shack after missing for a day, only to bring a random teen with him. It's a good thing he cooked extra since he thought Soos was coming over.

But he needed answers fast.

"Ford," Stan whispered firmly, catching his brother's attention. Tilting his head, he tried to signal him to move out, but someone interrupted them before they could do anything.

"Hey! No sneaking out the dinner table!" Mabel exclaimed, pointing a fork at her grunkles.

Stanley stood up and Ford followed his actions. They were already heading out the door with Stan holding his twin's wrist. "Well, sweetheart, VERY REASONABLE EXCUSE!"

As soon as they were out of sight, you and the other kids exchanged looks.

"He did say it's reasonable."

"Yeah, I can live with that."

... You snorted. "You guys are a funny bunch. He literally said the excuse, and you let him go just like that? You must trust each other a lot."

"You have no idea, stranger, you have no idea," Mabel laughed. "Sorry, what was your name again?"

💥

Meanwhile, deep inside the mystery shack, where they were sure there'd be no eavesdropping happening...

"You let the kid stay here without telling their parents?!"

Stanley was freaking out. Yet, he really shouldn't be surprised Ford would do this. Ironically, poindexter would even criticize his behavior, his grunkle methods! How ridiculous is this whole thing, huh?!

"It's more complicated than that! Look, I know this sounds bad—"

"It does!" Stan yelped, his hands clenching. "Their parents must be so worried! And we can't just let them—"

"No, no, Stanley, walk with me here," Ford said, placing his hands on his brother's shoulders. "It's their parents that are the problem."

A few deep breaths from Stan. Alright, okay. This is making more sense now.

"We'll take them to their house first thing in the morning," Ford explained. "Let's see what we'll do from there."

🔥

"I hope my drawing isn't too bad," you chuckled, giving the journal back to Dipper. His eyes skimmed over your illustration of the monster you killed. "It doesn't match yours and Mabel, but..."

"Are you kidding?! It's perfect! Thank you!" Dipper beamed, writing more notes down the rest of the page.

From above, Mabel had her legs folded over the ceiling wood of the house. You looked up and made eye contact, as much as you can anyway. She's upside down.

"Hi! How old are you again?"

How did she even get up there, you wonder. You glanced around, smiling when you realized, and worked your way up.

They stared at you in awe when you climbed right next to Mabel's side. Now you're hanging upside down too. "Cool tricks, Mabel. Hope you don't mind me copying you?"

She doesn't respond, starstrucked. Glancing at Dipper, his jaw was also on the floor.

"Uhhh," you awkwardly smiled, "But I just turned sixteen! You guys are turning thirteen, right?"

"You're the coolest," Mabel whispered, dragging a hand across your face. Okay. That's a bit weird, but it's welcome.

"Thanks," you grinned, manually removing her hand from your face. You looked down at Dipper again. "Hey, Dipper, what time is it?"

He scrambled around and grabbed a watch from somewhere. "Uh, nine o' clock."

"Nine?!" your sudden outburst caused you to fall to the carpet, a pained groan leaving your lips. At least you managed to drop skillfully. "Oh, that hurt."

"Are you okay?!" Dipper rushed to your side, offering a comforting hand on your back.

"Yeah, I just," you paused. "It's nine already? My parents are gonna kill me, man. I gotta go home."

"What!!"

Mabel also dropped down from her outburst, but her landing isn't painful as yours, because you caught her in time. She gazed at you from your arms, stars forming in her eyes.

"Woah. You have fast reflexes!" she squealed as you gently put her down.

Dipper shook his head. "But you can't go home this late at night. Didn't you say you're from outside of Gravity Falls?"

You crossed your arms, pondering. "Yeah, but... Okay, wait, where's Ford?"

Footsteps followed your words. All of you turned to the doorway, seeing the older set of Pines twins. It's kind of amazing, really, you rarely saw twins and this family has two pairs.

"Oh, there you are!" you grinned, walking over to him. Ford blinked at you. "I'm sorry, dude, but I think I overstayed my welcome. I'll go ahead and—"

"Eh, nah," Stanley chimed in, earning your attention, "It's too dark for ya to go out. Let's take you home tomorrow, yeah?"

"But-"

"No butts, they're for sitting," he continued, gently pushing you down on his recliner. You sat down, albeit confused. "Think of it as a sleepover. That's fun, right kids?"

Mabel skipped to your view, an eager grin on her face. "Yeah! We can paint your nails and everything!"

"While I'll show you more of the journals," Dipper beamed, showing one of them to you.

Their ideas were nice, it truly was, but the circumstances are concerning. You couldn't help the frown forming on your lips. They all noticed.

Ford stepped in between them, kneeling and offering you a smile. "Don't worry, kiddo. We'll take good care of you 'til morning. I'm sure your parents will understand."

"I guess I can't really do anything about it," you muttered, eventually accepting the situation. You stood up with a grin. "Okay! Who wants to be unaware of me stealing cool stuff here?!"

"I do!" Mabel screamed, only to pause. "Wait, what?"

"Yeah," Stan squinted, "What?"

You hummed, suddenly behind him, and stared at Stanley's wallet. Ford shook his head at you. "You have a very alarming number of IDs. Is this normal? Then again, you're old."

A laugh left Stan as he took back his wallet from you. "Oh, you got some gift, kid. Didn't even hear or feel you take it!"

"I can teach you," you smiled.

"Please don't," Dipper groaned.

"No need," Stan snorted. "We can pickpocket the whole world together!'

🌬️

"This journal is amazing! And Ford wrote this? Seriously, no wonder why he was so smart!"

You flipped the book page by page, your jaw dropped the whole time. Sure, a while ago, you saw one page, but only because Dipper told you to draw on it. You didn't expect a whole research surrounding Gravity Falls!

"Interesting enough for you to visit Gravity Falls more often?" Dipper chuckled as he watched you.

"Woah," you smiled, "You like my company that much, Dipper? Don't you have any friends here— oh shoot, wait, I didn't mean—"

A ghost of a frown spread through his face. Why did you have to ask that?! You were just projecting if you had to be honest, but still!!!

"Sorry, that was insensitive," you blurted, closing the book and focusing all your attention on him. "I only said that because I feel that way. I know, that's pretty lame."

He looked surprised. "Really? But you're so cool?"

"Some people think I'm weird is all. But thanks for finding me cool, Dip," you laughed, glancing at Mabel who was snoring. "I find you and your sister cool too. A lot, actually. So it's nice to know you both like me."

Dipper sniffed. "Man. Ditto."

You grabbed a blanket and placed it over Mabel's body, making sure she's covered head to toe. She snuggled up to it unconsciously.

"Welp, bed time," you murmured, reaching for another one. You stretched the blanket, letting Dipper be able to invite himself in. "Come on."

He happily accepted, nestling his head next to your shoulder. Mabel followed him, her head tilting to your chest.

You slept, content.

🌪️

You woke up, disturbed.

The first thing you saw after sleeping is Dipper and Mabel staring at you in silence. As soon as you noticed them, they scrambled away from you and tried to act natural.

Yet, you couldn't forget the small glimpse of their faces. Wide-eyed, a bit of judgment, but most of all, solemn.

Before you could question them, Dipper yelled, "Grunkles! They're awake!"

You winced from the volume of his voice, having just woken up. He immediately apologized to you, but it's all good.

"Visit us again soon! Byeee!"

The next thing you know, you're in the backseat of a car with Stanley next to you. He was pouting, arms crossed.

"This is literally my car. I can't believe it! You won't even let me drive my own car?" he sneered at Ford who sat on the driver's seat.

Ford rolled his eyes. "I can't have you get in trouble by driving again. Think of the kid."

While driving to your address is certainly much faster than walking, it still took a while. You managed to fall asleep, tilting your head on Stan's shoulder. It seemed that you're not alone in being unconscious, because he snored loudly.

Glancing at the mirror, Ford simply exhaled.

You're here.

He parked in front of your house.

Ford nudged Stan awake, who poked you awake next.

You stood up drowsily, holding Stan's hand while walking up to your house. Ford took the lead and knocked on your front door.

To both grunkles' disappointment, things get messy.

Both your parents, drunk, loudly told them off and took you away roughly from Stan. Tears leaked out of your eyes, saying countless apologies to the Pines twins and your parents.

Without much of a fight, Ford forcibly grabbed you back, carrying your body with one arm. He looked at Stan who placed a hand on his shoulder.

"Psst, I'll handle this," Stanley murmured in the midst of your father yapping nonsense. Maybe the professional con-man can knock some sense into your deadbeat parents.

Ford took you back to the car. You sobbed relentlessly, whispering the most saddening things he wished to unhear. He hugged you tightly, muttering sweet nothings until you fell asleep.

After a long while, Stan finally came back.

His eyes were wide. He was shaking.

"I didn't mean to. They started it—I had no choice!"

Gazing down, Ford realized Stan's hands were covered in blood. He swallowed the thickness in his throat.

"...I'll help you clean it up."

[bonbonly]

i keep writing collegeau!f1 drivers, and honestly that has me thinking: (carlos, charles, max, lewis, daniel, lando and oscar! and this is sfw surprisingly lmfao)

→ carlos sainz is always out playing sports with his friends, but after a quick shower he will meet up with you in the library to study. he genuinely is really good about locking in, even if it's only for a few minutes and he manages to soak up all the information pretty fast. he's always willing to help you out, even if chooses to endlessly tease you if you get something wrong. he'll point out your mistakes, giving you more practice problems or drawing something on a board to visualize it for you. and while you do appreciate his help, it's hard to focus on the board when his hair shines like that under the light. you mutter some curses under your breath and get back to studying unaware that he secretly enjoys it when you get frustrated at him.

→ charles leclerc is awfully quiet at first and only shows up to piano rehearsals if you're there. he's very shy at first about his talent, but slowly opens up and let's you accompany him to classes and even recitals! he likes to laugh to himself if he messes up some notes, and loves when you'll lean forward to correct his fingers on the piano, his face just inches from yours. he just wishes you'd finally turn around to meet his expecting gaze, lips aching to be on yours. he plans on kissing you after his first major recital.

→ max verstappen and you both game regularly on the basis. whether it's in the computer lab, or at each others' dorms. he sometimes wishes you didn't just come to his dorm to hop on a game, but he appreciates every second he gets to spend time with you. when it comes to studying, both of you start off trying to lock in but it quickly turns into the both of you talking about how awful your professors are, or some funny story that happened to his friends. he likes to see you laugh, because it's when you really are yourself.

→ lewis hamilton likes to tag along with you when you're at karaoke events with your friends. he insists he can't sing, choosing to shy away from the spotlight. but after a couple drinks, and the way your hand wraps around his arm, tugging him to your warm body, he eventually gives in. the two of you spend most of the night screaming lyrics at each other and giggling hysterically when either of you mess up a line or two while singing. lewis swears he would love to live the rest of his like this with you.

→ daniel ricciardo ends up in your cooking class that you took solely because you needed a free elective. most of the class however is spent with dealing with his antics. he's tossing the flour at you, cracking the most awful jokes while cracking eggs (don't even ask) and all you can do is sit there and groan out loud. however, after a few classes, you realize that the class genuinely was boring and daniel was the only good thing about it. you'd sometimes grab his finished dishes and munch on it, which only causes him to lunge at you and now the both of you are on the ground laughing trying to explain to your professor why your casserole is now on the ground.

→ lando norris unfortunately decided to work at the university's daycare since all his money was going down at the clubs, and you show up to help him because you knew he was going to get overwhelmed. he was currently tackling a 3 year old who refused to let go of his curls, and you laugh out loud before running over to help him. when you manage to calm down the toddler and sing a few lullabies, lando's gaze softens and he can't help but secretly dream of having kids with you after you both graduate, having a small lovely family.

→ oscar piastri sits in the front of the class besides you. it's a hobby for the both of you to listen to the answers your peers give you, and turn around to give the nastiest side-eye ever. outside of class, the two of you laugh about what some of the responses were and you sometimes ask him if he ever judges you like that. he shakes his head, and says no. deep down, he wants to tell you that he thinks the world of you, but he keeps his mouth shut for now. what if you end up judging him instead?

[keepingitformyself]

especially for tender ones like us

A/N: hehehehehehehehehehehehe synopsis: humor, anxiety, and the salvation of love.

pairings: natasha romanoff x reader

genre: fluff.

warnings: no?

MASTERLIST

please do not repost my work anywhere for any reason at all. if you do see this happen to any of my stories, please let me know. thank you x.

natasha tries not to stumble over her words when she suggests staying in, instead of going out. she does not mean to, but she does. 

how could she not? could you really blame her for wanting a quiet night? something that isn’t so public. she wanted to see you, of course, but she wanted to see you in a space you could be comfortable in, without any of the outside world and free from any distractions.  

you listen intently through the other line, you fight the giggle at catching her little stutter. she can’t see, but you smile widely at the whole thing.

“yeah, we can stay in. i can cook us dinner,” you nod. natasha’s shoulders drop in a quiet sense of relief at your words. her lips curl into a smile. “i’d like that. i can’t wait.”

although this would only be the fourth time you had met up together, to natasha, it felt like the first every single time. 

you continue talking for a little while more. natasha shares details about her day, work, and what she ate during lunch. she tells you how on her way to grab her usual coffee order, an americano, she decided she’d switch her order to a matcha latte after having had you recommend it to her. she tells you, 

“it was good, but not nearly enough caffeine for me to keep up with,” she said, her tone light but teasing. and while it hadn’t become her new favorite drink, just knowing she’d tried it for you was more than enough. her words sent your thoughts spiraling, a warmth blooming in your chest. you were certain that if she were standing next to you, you wouldn’t hesitate to kiss her right then and there.

but you can’t do that so instead, you just fall back on your bed like a high schooler talking to her crush. 

when you finally do meet up the following evening, natasha is buzzing with nerves she doesn't understand. she has taken down whole regimes and has fought aliens from space, yet she seems to draw the line when it comes to facing you. 

she knocks on your door, her other arm clutching a brown bag containing wine and flowers. a reasonable offering if you’re having dinner with someone you want to impress. 

when you answer the door, you're wearing a cream-colored knit sweater. 

“i thought i heard pacing out there.” you joke. 

natasha’s cheeks flush as she tries—and ultimately fails—to fight the smile tugging at her lips. “i wasn’t pacing,” she says, though the slight crack in her voice gives her away.

you step aside and invite her in, and neither of you acknowledges the quiet intimacy of the moment. it feels like more than just dinner, more than just a simple evening in your apartment.

you’re about to cook for her, and somehow, that feels monumental.

natasha’s nerves are a mess, though she can’t quite figure out why—or maybe she can. maybe it’s the way your presence makes her feel unsteady, as though the ground beneath her shifts whenever you’re near.

but natasha doesn’t want to be nervous.

she saw once—a penguin mistaking a sleeping walrus for a rock. the penguin had been caught completely off guard when the walrus stirred, nearly crushing it before it scurried away just in time.

natasha had found it funny at the time, the way surprises can sneak up on you. but now, thinking about it, it doesn’t feel so funny. it feels… unnerving.

surprises are bad for the heart, she thinks. she’s been taught her whole life to avoid them, to anticipate every possibility before it unfolds.

but knowing too much, being too prepared—that can hurt, too.

her thoughts are interrupted by your laughter, light and unburdened, as you guide her toward the kitchen. your smile is so easy, so genuine, and she can’t help but feel how good it is to exist in this space with you.

she offers to help you cook, but you shoo her away instead. you make her watch.

she sits there, with her hands on her lap, and just stares. and she can’t help the look of longing on her face. the kind of thing that suggests she wouldn’t mind this being a constant. 

you made pasta for the evening. nothing too spectacular, but natasha had treated it like you were a top chef and had spent hours crafting everything with your bare hands. 

and then once you’ve plated food for you both and you’ve gotten down to a few bites, you notice the small sigh natasha lets out. the flutter of her eyes as she takes in the meal. 

you smile at her reaction as you move some of the food with your fork. 

“do you like it?”

she looks at you, mid-chew, her mouth stuffed with the food, but she manages a smile. 

“yeah, uh, yes it’s good. it’s so good,” she says, hand over her mouth. 

you continue eating, talking about everything and anything. the night was filled with small moments that would bleed into much deeper ones. you laughed, she smiled, you smiled, she laughed. the kind of things one feels they become when around those who make you tender. 

and you don’t know how or when but you try not to notice how little by little natasha seems to retract a little. 

you decide maybe she needs a small moment for herself and start cleaning up the table. she offers to help, but you wave her off, insisting she relaxes. 

she tries to, but realistically, natasha doesn’t know how to relax. so she sits back and stares at you like she isn’t sure what to do with herself. she isn’t used to this at all. spaces like this–warm, cozy, comfortable.

the impending guilt comes. it’s all so layered. she feels so much at once. the nervousness, the anxiety, the fear of loss, the fear of not being present enough. 

natasha doesn’t know how to be here without sacrificing so much. 

after a while, natasha speaks up. 

“i should probably get going.” her voice too casual to sound like she meant it. she tries not to notice the look of disappointment on your face when you turn around to face her. 

“you don’t have to.” you find yourself saying, not wanting her to leave. 

she hums, something that says she’s already made up her mind. she gets up and gathers her things. 

you follow her to the door, or at least try to—but you pause at the end of the hall when you see her linger near the door, uncomfortably. unsure if she should leave. 

you call her out on it. “you can stay longer if you want.”

natasha wrestles with herself because she really wants to. she looks at the door as if it’d answer for her. 

you’re letting her know. 

natasha feels awkward, clammy hands. she doesn't know what she’s doing. and it’s hard to think of anything else when your eyes are screaming, don't actually leave, at her. 

you look at her carefully, trying to see if you can find any clear indication of what she may be feeling, but it isn’t hard to figure out the redhead in front of you. 

you’ve noted quite quickly how easy it comes for her walls to lower when you’re around. and if there’s anything you’ve learned from that, it’s that natasha romanoff isn’t the trained killer everyone thinks she is. 

sure we all have certain versions we show to certain people. but the natasha you know is anything but rough-edged. the natasha you’ve come to know is actually quite the opposite of what everyone else perceives. 

she’s tender, in her own silent way. too afraid to ever let too much slip away that she’s so painfully aware of everything around her. 

natasha is tenderness wrapped in quiet strength, a paradox of someone who feels deeply but guards herself fiercely. she sees the world clearly—the beauty and the harm—and carries that weight like a constant ache.

like she knows the world hurts more for those most aware of hurt. 

her tenderness isn’t soft; it’s sharp, vigilant, always bracing for the pain that comes with letting others in. you can see it in the flicker of her gaze, the way she hesitates as if expecting the world to hurt her.

and yet, she doesn’t harden. she holds onto that fragile, open part of herself, even when it would be easier not to. it’s beautiful and a little heartbreaking.

natasha looks up at you, then back down at her hands. just above a whisper, she says, 

“i don't know what i’m doing.” 

“that’s the most fun part.” you joke. she smiles, she doesn’t know how to say she wants more time. 

how could she say she feels greedy at this moment? she wants to protect being here with you. we have such little time, she thinks. 

bashfully, she steps closer to you, “i don't want to go.” she says. 

“then don’t.” and natasha almost complies. instead, she takes a step closer, her hand lifting towards your cheek. she’s so close now. 

she kisses you, soft, and shy, but you make her feel sure when your arm circles her neck, deepening the kiss altogether. when she pulls back, her forehead rests against yours, she lets out a shaky breath. 

“maybe i’ll forget my scarf,” she murmured, a small smile tugging at her lips. 

“please do,” you replied. please leave your scarf, please linger near the door uncomfortably instead of leaving. please always come back. “that way you’ll have to come back later for it.”  

and just like that, her quiet uncertainty washes away. 

she takes her scarf off and drops it near the door. you follow her actions, you smile, amusement in your eyes. 

later that night, when natasha gets home, she texts you. 

i forgot my scarf. 

you reply, you’ll have to come get it then. 

[no-road-home]

Stewpot: Tales from a Fantasy Tavern on Backerkit now!

Stewpot: Tales from a Fantasy Tavern is a GMless one-to-three shot TTRPG based on games like MF0: Firebrands and The Sundered Land. It's a collection of 20 mini-games where former adventurers open a tavern together and reintegrate into society after a life on the road.

What happens after the adventure? What does daily life in a fantasy world look like? Stewpot draws inspiration from stories like Dungeon Meshi, Redwall, Frieren, and Bartender, as well as various aspects of D&D. It's a great way to wrap up a long-running fantasy TTRPG campaign.

Start a garden, cook monsters, run a festival booth, reforge old weapons, flirt with mysterious strangers, and more in a new version of the game with tons of art and new storybook-style layout!

(more info and full description of the mini-games in the read more!)

The structure of the game is based on characters having an Adventurer Job, with Adventurer Experiences that represent their abilities and powers, and a Town Job with Town Experiences. You can make new characters just for the game, or bring in old characters and recreate them with the existing Experiences or write your own.

As you play the game, you'll cross off Adventurer Experiences as you let go of them or let them fade into the background, and gain new Town Experiences that take their place. Along the way you'll upgrade your Tavern and give each other Keepsakes!

Games from the old Itch.io PDF version (0.41):

The First Step: Before you decided to put down roots here, before you found this group of friends, what were you doing? What was the first thing you learned about how to live in town?

NPC Sidequest: Your adventuring days may be over, but there are plenty of people in town that could use your help.

Wear and Tear: There’s always something to fix, or clean, or pay off.

Market Day: You never would have guessed how many things you need just to keep a tavern running. 

Homegrown: There’s something special about using ingredients grown nearby. Why not give growing your own a try?

Sliced: Sometimes supply routes get disrupted. Or maybe you just want to stand out from the rest of the taverns. Whatever the reason, you’re playing this game because you want or need to do one thing: cook with monster parts.

Romancing a Stranger: Someone in the tavern makes eye contact with you, and their gaze lingers a little longer than you’d expect. Your co-workers urge you on, and make every excuse they can to send you over to talk to the lovely Stranger.

Off the Clock: Where do you go after the tables are wiped down? Who’s heard every story you have about the worst people who have walked in?

A Friendly Tavern Brawl: Every tavern has its rowdy patrons. You know they’re good at heart, but sometimes when the ale is flowing and spirits are high, things get a little out of hand. How do you handle the situation?

Festival Day: Your town has a few festival days a year, and they’re some of your busiest. How do you prepare? How do you handle the influx of people?

A Bard's Tale: During your time as an adventurer, you accomplished many daring deeds. In fact, some of those deeds are retold to this day by travelling bards.

A Glass of the Gods: Sometimes a troubled adventurer will come in, looking for answers, and letting them drink themselves into oblivion is the wrong answer. It's up to you  to  mix the perfect drink, something perfect for the situation that can push the adventurer to look inside and find the answer on their own.

A Distinguished Guest: Someone important is in town, and they’re already almost here. The tavern has to be at its best for this guest. After all, they might leave a generous tip.

In the Rhythm of Things: Time passes. Rough edges are sanded down. Before you know it, life in town has become like breathing. You gather in your favorite part of the tavern and wonder where the time has gone.

New games for this crowdfunding campaign:

Shields and Skillets: Enchantments are volatile things, especially when they sit unused for long periods of time. You have to let go of your old equipment before it’s too late.

Shelter from the Storm: Early one morning, you feel it. A familiar ache in your bones. Something is coming.

A Funeral: As an adventurer, you said farewell many times. Sometimes it was only temporary. Most of the time, it wasn't. 

Retracing: You've left town for something: an errand, a vacation, an old favor. Suddenly, you recognize the route you're traveling. You've been this way before, during your adventuring days.

A Fleeting Memory: Something about the way the fire flickers lingers in your mind. The smell of hay and clover brings a tear to your eye. A fading memory resurfaces.

A Familiar Face: An old friend you haven't seen in a while has stopped by. Why not show them around the town and the tavern?

[onyourowndaisymae]

don't mind me... just thinking about the dateables slowly dropping the rest of their roster for you as they fall head over heels...

diavolo // barbatos // simeon // solomon (you are here) -- x gn!reader, NSFW below the cut, others coming soon

solomon, who will follow his whims damn near anywhere. today, they've led him to the devildom, for the demon prince's grand "exchange program"-- he's not much for commitments like these, but any excuse to get free room and board in the devildom is an excellent one in his eyes. he's always been curious about some of the more hidden oddities in the realm, and this is a perfect time to explore without suspicion. along the way he meets you. huh. a human living in the devildom with no magical abilities? doesn't exactly sound safe, but... well, that won't be his mess to clean up if things go awry. he's interested in seeing how long you last.

solomon, who certainly thinks you're special. in the time that you've been a part of the program, you've managed to wrap all seven of the demon brothers around your fingers. he's honestly a bit jealous! even lucifer, who he's been trying to form a pact with for decades, leans in close to hear your quiet words. he can't even tell who he's envious of in that moment-- you, in all your charm, or lucifer, who gets to be that close and personal with you? oh, you're special alright. and now that you're both visiting the devildom again, this time without the pretense of the exchange program, he's determined to get to know you better. there's just something about you... something so warm and human that he's drawn to like a moth to a streetlamp. he won't go as far as embarrassing himself to paw at you for attention like a child, but he's not going to be deterred by the complaints of the demon brothers this time, either.

solomon, who is still human, after all. humans have... urges. he's not a massive fan of where lust has led him in the past, but the nagging feeling of want makes it hard to focus on his work. he summons a quick portal and finds himself at the house of a familiar face... a dangerous vampire, sure, but one that he knows intimately. little words are exchanged before he has them pinned against the wall, desperately fucking into them, hips snapping at a relentless pace as they keen into the open air. their leg is tucked into the crook of his elbow to give him a better angle, the smack! of his hips against their thighs intertwining with groans and heavy breathing. carnal pleasure makes his brain go white as they spasm around him, their third orgasm of the night finally pushing him over the edge as he spills inside them. it's messy and hot and he doesn't feel quite satisfied, guiding their sweaty body to a nearby flat surface to continue the fun. when the evening draws to a close, he slips back to purgatory hall for a shower and some rest. he hadn't even realized he'd left his d.d.d. until he emerges from the steamy bathroom to a notification. huh. a text from you. his heart flutters a little as he reads your message. hmm... he decides not to dwell on that feeling further, having already had such a complicated evening to mull over already.

solomon, who has a lot to learn. being immortal, he figured he'd done enough learning to last him a few lifetimes, and yet here he is. here you are. he finds that he'll shirk other responsibilities to spend another night training his apprentice. on nights like these, he'll find any excuse to keep you longer-- say, how about he makes you dinner? you always convince him to go out with you instead, promising to let him cook another time (he hasn't had the chance to, but he's sure he'll get you one of these nights). you look so cute under the restaurant's mood lighting, laughing your way through a story about the unruly demon brothers. but all he can think about is how much he doesn't want the night to end. he takes a bite to hide the way his lips curl into a grimace. soon it'll be late and he'll be dropping you back off at the house of lamentation. soon he'll have to forfeit his already limited time with you and walk home alone. you seem to notice sooner than he'd expected. when you ask, he's honest-- he doesn't want to see you go home. does that make him sound bad? he laughs it off in an attempt to save his pride, but for some reason you're smiling at him when he meets your gaze again. when the proposal falls from your lips-- a sleepover?-- he's looking curiously at you to see if you're kidding. but you're not, are you? no, that earnest grin is all real, all for him. and he's so thankful nobody else gets to see you looking like this tonight. just him, a simple man, sitting across from you at a restaurant as he realizes he's far more in love with you than he ever imagined.

solomon, who has been looking forward to this all week. you're coming over to "study", which usually results in maybe an hour or two of learning before you both get distracted and turn on a movie. tonight is no different. tonight you're curled up against his side, his arm around your shoulders as the movie drones on. your fingers dance along his side under his shirt, warm and distracting, finally enough for him to chuckle and tell you what a little nuisance you're being. teasing turns to touching, which doesn't end there-- soon he's got you pinned to the couch. what would usually be a smug grin is a bit more vulnerable tonight, pressing his smile to yours as the heat of his body envelopes you. it's you who pushes things further tonight, who paws at his shirt and kisses down his neck to see his face flush. he takes his sweet time stripping you of your garments. it's time he might not have, seeing as you two are in the (thankfully empty) living room of purgatory, but he'll take the risk regardless. your smooth skin against his makes him feel feverish and a little dizzy. solomon double checks that you're okay with this-- you are sure, right? you grin and agree that yes, you absolutely are interested in finally fucking him right here, right now. when he finally sinks into your heat, hips pressing forward at a firm but careful pace, he bites his lip to contain the gasp that threatens to rip through him. you're so hot and tight that it makes his head spin. have you always been this alluring? he feel like he can't breathe for a moment when he finally bottoms out. oh. this... this is going to be a problem for him. he pulls his hips back and gently sinks into you again, the lube and spit mixed on his cock making a slick noise with each movement. you feel like heaven. is this what he's been missing? nobody told him that sex with someone you love would feel so much better than a hookup. his lips find yours between pants, sloppy kisses contrasting against the steady rhythm of his hips meeting yours. your moans against his mouth make him feel like he's going to cum already-- he'd hate to disappoint, but fuck, you feel so good that he has to pull his mind from the moment before it ends. his movements get rougher to bring you there with him. soon enough, your whining, warbling voice tells him you're close. when you finally clench your tight, needy hole around him and reach cloud nine, it doesn't take long for euphoria to flood his veins as he reaches a climax. he's shaking a little by the time he finally meets your gaze. when you open your mouth to speak, he kisses you again. solomon can't risk having to respond. if he does, who knows what will spill out of his mouth-- that he loves you, needs you, can't fathom ever fucking anyone else? he's been around for thousands of years, yet he can't imagine another day without you by his side. please, just... let him savor this moment of ecstasy for a little longer.

taglist for this series (taken from the last part-- let me know if you would like to be added/removed!): @the-demonus-aunt // @scienceisfornerds // @hostilemakeover // @snow-fall1 // @kachan890 // @rphantom1 // @respitable

[gloomlet]

Gloomlet’s TS4 Script, Gameplay & Replacement Mods

So I decided to compile a list of all the script/gameplay mods that i use or have used in my game. This was mainly made for my personal use, but i am sure it could be helpful to other people too!

Fully Updated - 1/22/2025

Basic & Recommended!

TS4 Mod Manager ui cheats extension mc command center Carl's Sims 4 Gameplay Overhaul Relationship & Pregnancy Overhaul Wonderful Whims The Mood Pack Mod First Impressions Contextual Social Interactions Simulation Lag Fix Teleport Any Sim Better Exceptions

CAS Mods

Stand still in CAS More Traits in CAS Tidy details in CAS More CAS columns Lifetime Aspirations Child Aspirations Set Housewife - Aspiration Unlimited Likes + Dislikes Preferences Plus Homebody - Preferences 100+ CAS Traits Resized Facial Piercings More Teeth!

Replacements & Retextures

Fan Art Maps Map Replacements Overhaul Clean UI Sims 1 & 2 Font LIS Fonts Fluffy Clouds (Ghibli Clouds) Feet replacement Hand replacement Bra + Panty Replacement better babies Baby bottle replacement Default Cutlery! Cute Kitchenware Replacement Boxing Gloves Aquarium Fish Recolor paint it up mod A brighter mop Selfie Override Phone call animations Extended Phone Calls

Objects Phone Replacement Another phone replacement Phone wallpaper & icons Smaller dollhouses Switch Controller + console Game controller PS1 console pc game override Remote control sponge & spray override Another Sponge & Spray override

Electric Toothbrush Razor Bassinet override infant rug +  infant tub child drawing replacement more drawing replacements weather controller Cats & Dogs Fireplace Headphone/earbud override Old-fashioned Suitcase The slightly nicer Tree House Fireplace Lil Campers Light

Replaced + more Interactions Bed Cuddles Better Woohoo Reactions Realistic Reactions Brush Teeth From Toothbrush Holders Wake-up animation Greetings Offer Rose override

Visuals & effects No overhead effects No zzz No object highlight no plumbob please Smaller Mosaic Minimalist CC Icon More Holiday icons

Gameplay!

Playable Pets Slower infant needs Expanded Mermaids Who's Knocking More Visitors No Bad Microwave Buffs Memory Panel Smarter Pie Menu: Searchable Smart Sim Randomizer Play Chess on any computer Strangerville Story toggle

Careers & Jobs Career Overhaul New Careers Simdeed Recruitment Services Flex Part-Time Recruitment Agency Game Developer Career Ultimate Nursing Career Modeling Career Tumbling Tots Daycare Career Shear Brilliance - Cosmetology Seasonal Odd Jobs - Autumn Odd Job Overhaul Modeling and Makeup Odd Jobs Babysitting Gigs Freelance Chef

Education Uni Tweaks Education Overhaul Uni Application Overhaul University costs more Choose Your Roommate Long Distance Learning No Uni Housing Restrictions Uni Aspirations School Lunch Override Longer or Shorter Degree Requirements

Cooking + Food Food Retexture Pack 1, Pack 2, Pack 3 Breakfast Retextures Dinner Food Retextures Pizza Retexture Grannies Cookbook Oni’s Recipe Pack + more recipes Chef Buffet S’more Options Srsly's Complete Cooking Overhaul Dine Out Reloaded Delivery Services Sims Eat and Drink Faster Porto Luminoso Market Cutouts Buyable Cakes Functional Mixer HCH Mixer & Cookbook Functional Air fryer Functional Blender Functional Cookie jar Another Cookie Jar Functional Toaster Functional Cake Stand Functional Rice cooker Functional Pressure Cooker Boba Tea Add-ons Functional Beer Functional Frozen Ice Cart

Pregnancy Realistic Pregnancy Cherished Moments - Pregnancy Science Baby Tweak

Services & Apps Sim National Bank “SimDa” Dating App Exchange Store

Interactions Meaningful Stories Cute Romance Drama Mod Autonomous Go Steady and Propose Autonomous Break Up and Divorce Dynamic Teen Life Parent-Child Relationships Let's Get Fit Modpack Sumba Fitness

Functional Items Playful Toddler Pack Toddler Play Telephone Little Chef’s Toy Kitchen Void Critter Tablet Functional Pool Slide

Functional Toy Bin Functional Hopscotch Functional Broom Functional Paper Sketchpad Functional Drumkit Functional Spiral Staircases In Your Safe Piggy Banks Film Reaper Movie Theater Left End Counter Dishwaser

Random Small mods

Loading and CAS screens

Free Sims 4, Free Loading Screen Bonehilda Loading Screen Custom Color loading screens Lights Out Loading Screen The Blues Collection Loading Screen Lin Sims Loading Screens San Sequoia Loading Screens Abstract Art + Landscape Loading Screens H-O-B & Sulani Loading Screens Autumn Loading Screens Pink Kitten Animated Loading Screen Life is Strange Loading Screens Cloudy TS2 CAS Background Ocean Waves CAS Room Old School - CAS Room Modern Minimalism CAS Room Plumbob replacements Crystal Loading Screens

lighting mods

sunblind lighting + installation Milk Thistle Better in-game lighting Gentle CAS lighting

[writingchalamet]

Angels Like You III

Angels Like You

Angles Like you II

A/N: The slow burn is burning, thank you guys so much for all the love on this story so far I promise things will only get better from here!

Word count: 3.1K

Warnings: Angst, Swearing, mentions of abuse, fluffy Bucky

Chapter III

Sunlight streamed through the curtains, painting golden beams across the room, warming Bucky's cheeks as he woke. His ears twinged with the faint sound of pans clattering downstairs, further drawing him out of slumber. Trailing down the stairs Bucky found you bobbing along to some music softly playing from your kitchen speakers while you cooked, Forrest sitting in his high chair eating fruit swaying his head to the music.

The smile that adorned his face while he watched the pair of you was filled with adoration, his chest feeling full and warm as if he belonged. You turned around to place slice of toast on Forrest's high chair jumping as you noticed Bucky standing in the doorway. You clutched your chest, laughing as you approached him. "You made me jump" His hand reached to rest on your on the mid section of your back, rubbing up and down. “Sorry doll wasn’t my intention, what you got cooking over there” His hand stayed in place, tingles shooting through your spine at the feeling. His head nodded over to the cooker where, the longer you stood here and stared into the blues of his eyes, the more likely it was for the food to burn.

“Oh, I was just making some breakfast for us, to say thank you for everything… Uh there’s bacon and eggs, sausage, pancakes and a bunch of other stuff, thought it would be different from your usual raisin bran” You joked with him, unintentionally getting closer and closer with each sentence. “Well, it all smells amazing.” Bucky lowered his face towards yours, noses nearly touching. Your, breathe caught in your throat as you starred up into his eyes, losing yourself for a moment, you felt Bucky tug you closer, barely a centimetre, nose brushing against the side of yours. “Mama!” You’re pulled from the moment and dragged swiftly into reality by the voice of Forrest, throwing his toast on the floor. Clearing your throat, you stepped away from Bucky, heat rising painfully to your cheeks.

“You all done baby?” you ask the rhetorical question, turning fully to face your son, he nods, raising his arms to be taken out of his highchair. You pull him out and walk him into the living, placing him down in his play creche. You come back to the kitchen to find Bucky serving up the breakfast from the stove. You walk to stand next to him, bumping your hip against his as you reach him, “I’m supposed to be doing that” Bucky turns his head to look at you, smirking as he placed bacon on the plates. “You do it every day, let me take care of it, go and sit down” eyes widening at the order, but you followed non the less. Bucky smiled as he placed your breakfast down in front of you, Buck deciding to take the seat just next to you. You spoke back and forth as you ate, passing stolen looks between one another.

Yourself, and Sarah watched as Sam and Bucky chased the boys around the front garden along with other kids from the street, all clambering over the men for their attention. You sipped your drink coquettishly as you eyed Bucky. His eyes meeting yours every now and again, lips turning up into a smirk. Sarah laughed as she looked between the two of you. “Damn, you really letting that man do a number on you huh?” Sarah shook her head as she spoke. You tutted slapping your hand against her arm. “I don’t know, it’s just nice for Forrest to have a male figure around I guess.” Your eyes continue to follow Bucky as you speak, watching how he plays with Forrest, taking him in his arms, tickling his belly. Sarah watches the small smile that etches its way onto your face when you look at the pair. “Has something happened between the two of you?” Her wide-eyed gaze makes you feel as if you were under a magnifying glass, she could always see straight through you. “Not exactly…” Your stare remains forwards on Bucky, and that’s telling enough for Sarah, as if you were under some sort of spell drawn to him, she laughed quietly, sipping her drink.

Forrest giggled while Bucky chased him around with the other kids. His laugh ringing in the super soldiers’ ears sounding like a sweet symphony. He sat with the toddler in his lap while the bigger kids still played, the little boy relaxing into his frame, Sam sat next to him drinking his beer, across the lawn he could see Y/n’s tender gaze following her son. Their eyes meet and they share a knowing nod. “So, you gonna tell me there’s nothing going on between the two of you?” Bucky ignores Sam’s comment, opting to play with Forrest’s curls instead. “Oh, that’s how it’s gonna be huh?” Bucky licks his teeth in annoyance turning his head to the side to face Sam. “Just leave it alone, she’s been through a lot, she doesn’t need men boggling all over her” he scoffs shaking his head. “So, you admit it, you have been looking” Sam nudges Bucky just to wind him up all the more. “Sam.” He warns. “Bucky” Sam jokes. “Mama” Forrest points over to his mum with both hands, the men now discovering that Sarah and Y/n were walking towards them. Bucky let go of Forrest and watched as he toddled over to her, Y/n already crouched down on the ground arms open ready to receive him.

“Hey” You smiled as you stood to your full height, Bucky now standing, coming to position himself beside you, holding Forrest between the two of you. His flesh hand tickling Forrest once more, then sliding down grazing your hand. The moment not going unnoticed by Sarah and Sam, who shared a look smirking at each other. “So, guys Sam and I were thinking, we could take care of Forrest tonight and you guys could hang out” Sarah gave Sam a nudge as he uttered out a ‘huh?’ under his breath. “Oh yeah, we’d love to hang out with the little guy and-” “Are you two trying to parent trap us?” you cut off Sams babbling and eyeball the pair of them accusingly. “What’s a parent trap?” Bucky asks confused. “Oh, come on!-” “only one of the best films ever made-” “How have you never seen the parent trap!” you all spoke over each other, Bucky raising both his hands jumping to his own defence. “Jeez sorry, forget I asked.”

 Forrest lifted his arms towards Bucky and started mumbling “bu…bububub” You all go wide eyed, and you have to practically pick your jaw off the floor. You hand Forrest over to Bucky and observe the way he nestles his head into his chest, something he seems to love doing. “Seriously, I’ve known you since birth and you can’t be bothered to learn my name!” Sarah jokingly scolds your son. “Come on now, Bub is easier for him to say than Sarah” you sass back. “Aw, have you been calling him Bub around the house?” Sam reaches up to pinch Buckys’ cheek, earning a harsh glare from the pair of you. “No” you both say in unison. Sarah changes the subject. “Okay, so I’ll take Forrest for the night and you two can go out for dinner or something”

“I can’t believe you talked me into this, I’m gonna kill you” you chided Sarah through your ensuite door. “You’ll have a good time” she shouted back. You come out having done your makeup and hair, Sarah was flicking through your wardrobe finding something when she turned to look at you. “Wow” “does it look bad?” you panic, tugging your hair, turning to look in a mirror. She comes to stop your fidgeting grasping your hands. “No, you look beautiful, I just don’t think I’ve ever seen you wearing makeup before, you look great.” She nods at you smiling, brushing your hair back into place with her fingers. “I found this dress in the back of your closet, I think it will look nice, one suggestion though?” you nod in acknowledgement, “Please don’t wear your ugly ass maternity bra you always wear, please tell me you have some nice underwear!” you gasp and smack her arm “he’s not gonna see my underwear!” “He might!” you cringe at the thought, feeling your entire body flush. You had never been with anyone apart from Matt, and those wear the most unpleasant experiences imaginable. He had littered your body with scars, reminders that he was in your life permanently.

When you enter the kitchen where Bucky is sat , wearing a black slip dress and heals, he feels although he might have died and gone to heaven, because surely it was an angel that just walked into the room and stole all the breath from his lungs. He forgot all about the troubles that plague him daily and could only focus on you. “You, uh… you look beautiful” he scratched the back of his neck bashfully, looking you up and down. You carry on towards him, until you’re stood just in front of him, taking in the sight of him. He wore dark jeans and a long sleeve button down, that fitted so perfectly over every muscle it was like it was a piece of him. “You look good too” you never wanted to meet his eyes for fear of never being able to look away again, but you willed yourself to, admiring the blue swirls and the way his pupils dilated when you complimented him. “You ready to go?” he held out his hand for you to take, leading you out of the kitchen and out the house. Unknowing that Sam and Sarah were watching from her kitchen window as the pair walked down the driveway closely side by side.

The restaurant was quiet, dimly lit with fairy lights and candles, music playing quietly throughout the room. You and Bucky were tucked away in a corner booth, barely any space between the pair of you, your knees knocked together when either of you shuffled around nervously, but neither of you minded. The waitress approached your table offering another round of drinks which you thankfully accepted. As she walked away again you could feel Bucky’s eyes trailing over, raising that fire to your skin once more. “What are you staring at?” you whisper, eyes locking with his. “You, you’re beautiful” he retorted simple enough, but it still took your breath away. You looked down into your lap, picking at your fingernails, a nervous habit you had picked up through your previous relationship. “Do you not believe me?” his voice was low and assured. “I… Um… I just guess no one has ever really said anything like that to me, other than my parents, and Sarah…” You continue to look down, “I guess after everything, I just don’t feel pretty, he liked to make me feel bad you know… to keep me I guess-”

 Bucky cut you off. “Hey, we don’t have to talk about any of this if you don’t want, we can just have a nice evening” he brushed the hair out of your eyes, unintentionally brushing against your scar, his touch so soft unlike the one that had given it to you. “No, it’s fine, it’s only right I tell you. You’ve spent all this time looking out for me and Forrest and you still know nothing about me.” Your waitress came back with your drinks placing them down on the table with a smile, you both thanked her before she turned away. You took a sip of your drink as Bucky examined the way twitched around anxiously.

 “I met him when I was 22, my nana had left me her café in her will, so I’d been running it for about a year and it was the happiest I had ever been. When we first met it wasn’t so bad, he was semi sweet I guess, would take me out to the movies and stuff, but he was possessive, if a guy even so much as looked at me he would attack them, I guess I should have left then, but I’d never had a boyfriend before, so I didn’t know it wasn’t normal. When I moved in with him that’s when things really got bad.” You stop to breathe for a moment, eyes not moving from the candle flickering on the table, watching how the wax dribbled down the stick. Bucky reached his Vibranium hand into yours, the cool of the metal soothing your flushed skin.

“As soon as I moved in, he treated me like a maid, which I didn’t mind, but if I ever missed something, he would get mad. I remember the first time he hit me like it was yesterday. I had done the washing up but didn’t put it away like he’d asked, I told him he could do it for once, and he slapped me… I can still feel the way it made my cheek burn.” The lump in your throat was hard to swallow as you carried on. “He’d hit me for every little thing I did wrong, to the point I’d be going into work with black eyes telling customers I fell down the stairs, I’d always heard about those women who lie about being hurt by their partners, but I refused to believe it was actually happening to me. The bruising was so bad sometimes I couldn’t go into work, that’s when he suggested selling the shop… To save face… I couldn’t believe what I was hearing but I went along with it anyway, thought it would be easier to do as I’m told then risk the consequences of saying no.” You huffed. You felt the odd tear slip down your face but chose to ignore them.

“The worst was probably when he’d had a party, and I sat next to one of his friends, he didn’t like that, he wouldn’t let me speak to people, he limited who and when I spoke to people, I probable only saw my parents three times in the five years we were together. Anyway, once everyone had left, he went on a rampage, I was kicked into next Christmas, and he threw several glasses at me, a few of them smashed and one piece got stuck in my face” You pointed to the scar by your eyebrow. “I got taken into the ER, and I had a broken collar bone and a few cracked ribs, he told me when I got back that if I ever flirted with his friends again, he'd kill me”

“Why didn’t you leave sooner?” Bucky’s jaw was tensed, the muscles under his shirt tight with anger. “I never had a reason to, I thought I deserved everything that happened to me, then I found out I was pregnant, he instantly assumed it wasn’t his, told me to ‘deal with the problem or he would’ I knew I had to get out of there then, I had a reason. I took his car when he’d left for work, I didn’t know where I was going, I knew I couldn’t go to my parents in Cali, he’d find me, so I just carried on driving until I got here.” Bucky wipes away the stray tears that fall down your face, and holds your cheek in his hand, tugging your chin up so you meet his eyes. “Thank you for trusting me enough to tell me all that, I know it’s not easy dealing with traumatic bullshit” he nods assuring you he understands, and it’s all you need. “Thank you” you whisper, a small empathic smile gracing your lips. You pull forwards into his embrace and wrap your arms around his shoulders, resting your head in the crook of his neck, you take in his scent, he smells like the perfect mix of wood and spice, the fragrance filling your nose. His arms wrap around the small of your waist, hands spreading against the silk of your dress, digging in as if to pull you closer. His lips moved to brush against the shell of your ear. “Wanna get out of here?” his voice low. You only nodded without pulling away.

You soon reached the front door of your house. You couldn’t help as you walked down the driveway but nosily check Sarah’s house, noticing all the lights out in the front of the house, a good indicator everyone was in bed. Before putting the keys in the door, you turned to face him, not knowing if you have a sudden burst of confidence from the alcohol you’d consumed or the way he had listened to you tonight. “I really like you.” You nodded quickly assuring yourself it was the right thing to say. “I like you too.” Bucky agrees with a laugh. “No, I mean I really, like you. And I like the way you are with Forrest, and the way you look after us, while barely knowing us” This time you look into his eyes, finding his usual blues replaced by dilated pupils. He spared a breath, jaw ticking as he looked over your face dictating your next move.

With one strong Vibranium arm around your waist he pulled you into him, planting his lips firmly on yours. A short, sweet peck that lasted no more than a second before he pulled away. Stormy eyes returning, searching yours for a response. Your arms wrap around his neck, drawing him back to you. You pressed your lips against his enjoying the soft feel of his working against yours. The kiss was passionate, unlike anything you had ever experienced before, his tongue glided along your bottom lip, a faint moan falling from the back of your throat as his tongue pushed through, his hands gripped at your waist harder, one gliding along the curvature of your back, down to rest on the top of your bum. Your fingers laced through his hair tugging in appreciation. He took a step forward pressing himself right up against you, needing to feel you closer to him. You let out another louder moan as his tongue swirled against yours, he backed you up to the door, trapping you, not that you minded. His mouth left yours and you chased hi with another kiss, he laughed softly at your eagerness, his lips caressing the side of your face, kissing over your scar, as well as your cheek and jaw. “We should go inside” he teased. Nodding eagerly, you unlocked your door, practically pawing at each other as you stepped into the house.

 Hearing the kitchen light switch on, you pulled apart, just enough to see what was going on, Bucky’s arms still around your waist, yours on his chest, but the smiles on your faces soon turned sour. “Well, isn’t this cosy” Your eyes widened, you felt yourself shrink into yourself, only this time Bucky was there behind you to protect you from the start. “What are you doing here Matt?”

Tag List:

@unaxv @mrsnikstan @ilovetaquitosmmmm @scott-loki-barnes @lilyyxoii @cakesandtom @senjoritanana

[dedeinthewild]

paul aron x reader, no labels

~ “I’m carrying my body weight in presents, so shut it"

summary : A cozy Christmas filled with family, laughter, and tiny moments of magic. As Paul and the girl he adores share sweet traditions and secret smiles, their hearts grow a little closer with every holiday surprise.

The magic of Christmas was something special—something that could mend relationships, make adults feel like children again, and bring together those who had drifted apart.

Colorful ornaments adorned towering Christmas trees, hiding the gifts underneath just a little. And if Christmas was spent with family, it became even more beautiful.

The girl Paul was closest to had caught the last flight to Tallinn before heavy snow temporarily slowed down the flow of passengers at the Estonian airport. She had settled into the beautiful villa where the boys lived. She loved Christmas, the preparations that came with it, the wonderful smiles of children, and all the little things that brought her joy.

She was the kind of person who was content with very little, always smiling beneath the glasses she wore to avoid straining her eyes—the same eyes Paul never got tired of looking into.

They hated putting labels on themselves or talking about their relationship. Between them, everything was so simple that trying to define it felt like an unnecessary complication for something so pure and clean. They had met by chance and continued to see each other between video calls, with the occasional late-night message when one of them had fallen asleep and the other needed to talk.

And so, an extra place was added at the table that year. Despite her mind telling her to spend the holidays with her family, as she always had, her heart needed to enter that home and experience something new. Everything was new for her there, except for a few people who had grown accustomed to discovering new parts of her—and adoring every one of them.

Perhaps some would call it a bold move to invite her to something as important as Christmas with the family, but as everyone thought, there was nothing more transparent than the affection she had for the Estonian driver, his family, and their traditions—not to mention the huge smile that lit up her face when she saw the children. They were so blonde they looked like a little team of angels.

“I really, really want to help,” said the girl as she sliced bread on a wooden cutting board, ready to set it on the table. Margit, who wanted her to enjoy the evening without lifting a finger, tried to dissuade her.

“If I were you, I’d let her,” Paul chimed in, stealing a breadstick from the container as he walked behind the women of the house and Ralf, who was checking whether the evening’s first dish was cooking properly.

She turned, giving him an amused look, her hair tied back in a messy bun with strands of her bangs slipping loose onto her forehead.

“Don’t look at me like that,” the Estonian said, crossing his arms and leaning his lower back against the kitchen counter.

“I’m not violent or anything, I swear,” she said, raising her hands in mock innocence toward the driver’s mother, who responded with a sweet, elegant laugh.

“I have something to say about that,” Paul teased.

“Have you decided you’re a pain in the ass?” Anna shot back, trying to chase her brother out of the kitchen by pushing and holding him by the arm.

“Everybody hates me. I’m done,” he declared, stealing another breadstick behind his back as he disappeared through the door to lift one of his nephews into the air. The child had been loudly calling for Uncle Paul.

The atmosphere was beautiful. From the kitchen island, Margit, Anna, and the family’s new addition could see the entire living room, where an explosion of joy brought color to an otherwise minimalist home.

All the children were seated around the tree, with one of the more distant uncles dressed as Santa Claus telling stories, while the Aron cousins worked on drawings that the kids would later sign.

Ralf had connected his phone to one of the speakers scattered throughout the house and started playing a Christmas playlist, making the girl wrinkle her nose.

But the best part was sitting down to eat together. The children sat at their own table, engrossed in a conversation about the latest cartoon to watch, while the adults discussed various topics.

One of the evening’s focal points was the girl herself. Sitting next to Paul, she answered an endless stream of questions from everyone. She was having fun, watching how Paul’s grandmother got emotional at every one of her answers while gently stroking her husband’s hand with her thumb.

“You’d make a perfect couple,” the elderly woman blurted out, pushing her glasses up her nose to get a better look at them. Both smiled, a hint of shyness softening their carefree expressions.

Paul passed her the dishes, asked if she’d like something to drink, and, when speaking with relatives in Estonian, would place a hand on her shoulder and whisper a translation before resting his chin on her head.

At Christmas, Paul changed a little. Amid the noisy table, he withdrew into himself, speaking only when spoken to, his gaze often fixed on the children’s table where they played. But that year, she had managed to make him an integral part of the group, encouraging him to open up and join the conversations with that radiant smile of hers.

“How are you feeling?” he asked while Anna had already whisked away the dishes to prepare for one of their family’s beloved traditions.

“Good,” she replied with a smile, looking into his eyes.

He ran one of his large hands through her hair, letting it slide to her shoulders, and smiled back. The way she looked at him—it was what anyone would call “the look of love.”

After a few rounds of the family game, everyone got up and moved to the large living room, ready to open the first gifts with the children, all of them returning to a childlike state themselves.

The girl had ended up in an armchair near the tree, with one of Paul’s older brother’s sons on her lap, giving her a perfect view of the whole group.

The girls tore through wrapping paper, revealing dolls and dresses with tulle, smothering their relatives in kisses and tying ribbons around their wrists, pretending they were at a ball.

On the other side, the boys, more focused on messing with Paul and Ralf’s hair, patiently awaited their turn to do the same, while the boys’ father tried to figure out where Margit had hidden the gifts.

“Go and set the table for Santa,” Margit said with a smile, gesturing for the kids to grab the milk and cookies from the kitchen island.

“Come with us!” A dozen excited, slightly sleepy children grabbed the girl’s hands, making her wrinkle her nose in amusement as they led her to the kitchen island, where the older kids grabbed the bowls.

Paul, sitting on the couch with Anna resting her head on his chest, watched her from a distance.

Just as he always did.

He observed the way she moved, telling stories to the children, lifting them up to set the table where they couldn’t reach, giving them high-fives that made their tiny hands disappear in hers.

She was full of nostalgia—that was something he had learned.

And seeing her like this made him so happy that he couldn’t even express it, warmth spreading through his chest and his lips curving into a soft smile.

“Why do I feel like if I ever brought a girl home, you wouldn’t love her as much as you love her?” joked Ralf, placing his hands on their mother’s shoulders.

“We love everyone the same,” she said, stroking one of her son’s hands.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you enjoy someone’s company as much as hers,” Ralf continued.

“She’s a good girl, she is,” nodded the father of the Arons, making them smile as she returned to the room with a child in her arms and the others following behind.

She looked at everyone, letting them know the table was ready for Santa Claus, and then softly rubbed the back of one of Paul’s little cousins, who was just moments away from falling asleep.

The mothers took their children to bed, changing them into pajamas with little reindeer on them and making sure they were sound asleep before returning.

“Who’s in charge of Santa tonight?” asked Anna, stretching her arms as she got up from the couch.

“Paul,” said Margit, patting his shoulder as he stood.

“Yes!” whispered the Estonian.

Christmas Eve was the one night, besides the kids, where he had no desire to sleep at all, and staying up late to put Santa’s presents under the tree and do something special made him genuinely happy.

“Goodnight then, and Merry Christmas,” said the middle Aron sibling, giving everyone a kiss on the cheek.

“You’re staying up with me, you know,” Paul said to the girl as he approached her, a grin on his face, arms crossed as he looked down from his height of six feet.

“Why did I already know that?” she laughed, tying her hair back again as the rest headed to their respective bedrooms, leaving only Alpine’s reserve driver to follow her into her room.

They changed into pajamas and crawled under the covers, finally bringing out the gifts they had hidden in plain sight.

In the chaos of earlier gift-giving, no one had noticed that the two of them hadn’t exchanged anything, so now they found themselves doing so in the intimacy of her dimly lit room.

“Do we open them now or later?”

“We’ve got hours before we have to set the gifts, so now works,” Paul shrugged, trying to hide how excited he was to give her his present. He couldn’t bear to wait any longer.

The driver handed her the box he held in his hands, scratching the back of his neck with the other as he watched her begin to unwrap it.

Behind him, one of the house’s large windows opened onto the illuminated porch and gave a small glimpse of the darkness that usually gave way to the forest.

The Christmas lights, a warm white, framed the window and cast a soft glow inside the room, highlighting her silhouette.

He, too, was opening his gift, wearing a loose white shirt with the Grinch on it, his curls lightly tickling his forehead as he pressed his lips together and carefully untied the bow.

“You didn’t have to get me anything,” she said.

“I thought we were well past that kind of politeness.”

“Oh, I hate you,” she laughed, adjusting her glasses on her face.

And then she saw it. A certificate.

“I can’t read anything,” she said, turning her back to him to catch the light from the lamp on his side of the bed.

Paul took the opportunity to wrap his hands around her waist, pulling her to sit between his legs.

“The star with the following coordinates was renamed on 12/08 by Paul with the name ____.”

She read the inscription beneath the photo of a stunning star against a deep blue background, running her fingers over the thick paper of the certificate.

He had named a star after her.

And that was the most beautiful gift, the most heartfelt declaration anyone could have given her.

“I knew you’d make me cry,” she said, turning to face him.

“Don’t, or Santa won’t stop by,” he teased, wiping her eyes with his thumbs before pressing a playful kiss to her nose.

She wrapped her arms around him, pulling him close to her chest as though he weren’t twice her size.

And he loved it when she hugged him like that, making him feel so warm and protected—something no one but his family had ever managed to do.

Maybe that’s exactly why she was there that night, celebrating with them, closer to him than people he’d known since he was a child.

“And, by the way, your gifts are beautiful too,” he said, running his hands gently along her spine.

They talked about presents again hours later, lying on the mattress and chatting about anything and everything, just like they always did, trying not to laugh too loudly at the silly memes on their phones.

Their hair sprawled across the pillows, the blankets keeping them warm, the scent of the room was one they both associated with rest days, holidays, and happiness.

It was that soft, cozy smell—a mix of fabric softener, love, affection, and genuine feelings.

Whenever a video was especially funny, he’d wrap his arms around her, trapping her between his biceps to muffle her laughter while trying not to burst out laughing himself.

And before they knew it, the hour of Santa Claus arrived. While he scoured the house for the gifts his mom had hidden somewhere, muttering in Estonian, she grabbed some powdered sugar and made boot prints on the parquet floor.

“There’s one for you and me, too,” said the Estonian, balancing five or six boxes stacked in his arms as he walked without looking where he stepped.

“Watch your feet, idiot,” she laughed, fixing one of the Santa footprints he’d accidentally smudged.

“I’m carrying my body weight in presents, so shut it,” he replied, starting to arrange the gifts neatly under the glowing tree so the kids could easily find them in the morning before breakfast.

“Footsteps done.”

“Santa has to eat the cookies.”

“There’s a ton of them!” she complained.

“You should’ve taught the kids better,” he shrugged, stacking the gifts carefully.

A little while later, Paul joined her at the kitchen counter, biting into the carrot meant for the reindeer.

“Oh, I forgot you’re the healthy one.”

“As if you don’t like the fit version of me.”

“Yeah, but—”

“Ah! Got you. You said yes,” Paul grinned, winking as he washed down the carrot with some milk.

“Shut up, you’ll wake the kids!” she laughed, smacking his chest as she nibbled on a cookie.

“I could get used to this,” he murmured.

And after finishing the feast the kids had prepared for Santa, they walked past the Christmas tree, smiles on their faces and exhaustion finally setting in.

“You’re ruining all the footsteps,” she scolded, noticing that with every step, the driver’s foot came dangerously close to her creations.

He looked down, realizing how close he was, and in his attempt to avoid them, he lost his balance.

But she was there, placing her hands on his hips and helping steady him, even as she herself wobbled uncertainly.

And they laughed.

They laughed.

They laughed.

With powdered sugar on the floor, the taste of cookies still on their lips, and Christmas officially arrived, he cupped her face in his hands, brushing her cheeks gently.

And in the window, they were now reflected too.

Looking at each other with the eyes of love, as the lights illuminated them.

And outside, snow had begun to fall.

~ been working on this one for a few days and if I might say so, it's really worth it. I'm kinda feeding myself my paul obsession, but hey, I didn't find him under my tree so I might as well gift him to you💫

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Hunter's Delight

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon, violence, blood, coercion, and other elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: A peaceful getaway turns to horror when you encounter a strange man in the woods.

Character: Kraven the Hunter

Note: So, this isn't what I was planning as my birthday fic but my other fic was just not happening lol.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me <3

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!)

Love you all. Take care. 💖

The smell of cedar tinges the air. Birds wing across the pale blue sky and critters rustle in the twigs and leaves that trim the forest floor. Shadows nestle between the trunks and lend an ominous hue to any otherwise harmonious landscape.

It’s a long needed escape from urban crush. The fatigue of your nine to five recedes as your brief getaway frees you of the unseen cuffs of modern survival. There are no emails, no memos, or stuffy meetings. There is only you and naked outdoors.

Oh, and your friends.

You never traveled much. Most of the time you had off, you were too tired to do much more than the bare minimum. You hadn’t even thought of it until Larissa invited you. It just never occurred to you to spend the money or the energy. Now you’re more than happy you did.

You follow the snakish path that dips between valleys and over hills, up steep walkways and across sprawling plateaus. The lush green is endless, littered with patches of thick forest, and the occasion running river crested by an old wooden bridge. 

Larissa chatters loudly about your eventual return to the cottage. She dreams of kebabs cooked over the campfire and some fruity sangria. You trail the others, four of you in all. Jodi and Cameron ahead of you as your host leads the way. Work friends, but you suppose more now that you’re here.

The river water sends up a fresh scent from behind the looming trunks and you glance over at the gleaming ripples, almost twinkling as you admire them between the trees. You could do this every day. Just wander until you can’t move anymore.

“I can’t believe this is your first time up north,” Jodi says, drawing you from your mind.

“Uh, yeah, never did much exploring I guess,” you shrug.

“Even as a kid?”

“Nope. I think we had one family trip and we didn’t even make it to the amusement park,” you chuckle dryly, “ah well.”

“Ugh, I remember one time, when we were camping, my brother, Toby,” Cameron begins, “he put a frog in my bag. I screamed so loud. My mother didn’t even believe me.”

“Damn,” you remark. Cam tends to do that. Everything in some way relates back to one of her stories.

“Oh, I have an idea,” Larissa stops and faces you, “we have to decide who’s cooking.”

“It’s fine, I said I would–” You begin.

“Boo, that’s no fun,” she snips, “we used to play this game when I was a kid. I always won. Whoever collects the least acorns in ten minutes cooks.”

“Acorns?” You look around nervously. “Where?”

“You shouldn’t get lost. If you go too far, just stay still and we’ll find you,” she brushes off your concern, “it’ll be fun. And I know all the best spots!”

“That’s no fair,” Jodie pouts.

“How about I start after you. I’ll only do five minutes,” she barters.

“How do we know time’s up?” Cam picks a fingernail.

“Like I said, if you don’t show up, we’ll come find you.”

“I guess…”

“Alright, how about, whoever collects the most gets princess treatment for the night. The rest of us will have to serve you drinks and get you whatever you want,” she offers with a smug grin.

You bite your lip but don’t argue. It’s obvious she’s going to win but you wouldn’t mind the chance to explore a bit more. Besides, you never complain about time alone. It’s so peaceful here, that might just be a reward of its own.

“Come on!” Larissa claps, “bragging rights are included.”

“Fine,” Cameron sighs, “I guess it’s not completely stupid.” 

“It’ll be fun just to wipe that look off your face, Lar,” Jodi snorts.

You shrug and give a nod. You have little faith in your foraging skills but you don’t mind running to the cooler a few extra times that night. Besides, the cottage did get a bit suffocating with all of you there. This might be your only chance for alone time.

“Alright, on three,” Larissa declares, “one, two–” Jodi sprints off and Larissa holler, “I didn’t say three!”

Cameron runs after her and Larissa scowls. She puts her hands on her hips and drags her foot over the grass. You give a sheepish smile and awkwardly sway.

“Guess they won’t know if I start early,” she says and sets off in the opposite direction.

You slowly putter away as you head for the river. You have no intent of gathering acorns, you just want to watch the water. You weave between the trees and come out to the shore along the winding river. You watch the lazy flow and the little minnows flitting beneath the clear ripples.

You get closer and sit on your knees in the dirt. You drag your hands through the water and push your fingers into the silt. You bend slightly and look at your reflection. You're almost hypnotised by the ambiance. 

You close your eyes and pull your hands from the water. You place them on your shorts and take a deep breath. You want to hold onto this moment, to remember it once you're stuck back behind a keyboard.

You smile and your lashes flutter open. You see your reflection again, then it suddenly darkens as a shadow comes up behind you. At first, you’re confused, but you assume it’s one of the girls trying to scare you.

“Very funny–”

You fly forward into the water, arms flailing out as you splash into the shallow depth. Your head is pushed down to the riverbed as a foot crush your skull. You cough and gag, gulping down water as your breath bubbles out of your nose. Your head begins to thrum as you choke until at last, the weight relents and you rip your head from beneath the surface.

A sharp boot cracks into your ribs and sends you onto your back. You heave as you land flat, keeping your head just above the water. A man stands above you, crystal blue eyes boring into you as a growl creases in his forehead. He squats and grabs your chin, unsheathing a large knife from his belt.

“Scream and I’ll cut your throat out,” he warns as he pokes the knife tip along your lip, hushing you as he turns it slowly.

You shut your mouth, eyes rounding in terror as you watch him. Who is he? What does he want? You can’t let him know about the other girls. At least, you hope he doesn’t already.

“Listen to me,” he traces along your jaw and down to your throat, “you will do exactly as I say.”

You blink, saying nothing. His voice is gristly and unbending. His dark hair curls behind his head and he wears a thick beard that thins to coarse stubble. Around his neck is a thick cord with a single fang hanging from it.

Your eyes nearly cross as you try to see the knife in his hand..

“Gold locket. Pearl set in the middle. Bring it to me.”

You stare at him searchingly. It’s like he’s speaking another language. Or your brain just won’t hear them as fear courses through your veins. 

“She wears it around her neck.”

You see the golden chain around Larissa’s neck. You noticed it once or twice, never really thinking much of it. You just thought it must be sentimental. Your lip trembles as the man clutches the back of your neck and leans into the blade.

“Why?”

He chuckles, “you want to live. I can feel it. So no more questions and I might let you. The locket, midnight. I will wait here. If you do not come, I will come to you. And you can weep with their heads in your bed.”

You gulp as he smirks at you. You nod slowly as he loosens his grip. He releases you. You almost sink back under the water as he stands and you push yourself up. He swirls the thick knife then holds it up to reflect the sunlight.

“Such a beautiful day, it would be a pity if it were to end in blood.”

“I will bring you the locket. I promise.”

“I know you will,” he says as he struts towards the trees, “it is why I chose you.”

You sit dumbfounded, staring after him until you can see nothing but the trees. You shiver as the water stirs calmly around you, soaking you through to the point of discomfort. You climb out of the river and wrings out the fabric of your shirt.

As you look around at the serenity of the pastoral bliss, you can’t fathom that the man had ever truly been there. The tenderness in your neck assures you otherwise. He was and he will be back.

☀️

“What happened to you?” Cameron giggles as you appear from the trees. 

“No acorns, huh?” Jodi boasts.

“I uh… dropped them in the river. Tripped,” you lie. You’re too stunned to explain further.

“You okay?” Larissa asks.

“Yep, fine,” you utter.

“Well, Jodi got eleven and Cameron got eight, and I… got twelve.”

“Cheater,” Jodi mutters under her breath.

You’re thankful they’re too distracted by their child’s game to be very concerned. You throw up your hands. “Looks like I’m cooking,” you resign dully.

“And I get to be pampered,” Larissa trills tauntingly.

“Whatever. You’ll be lucky if I don’t dump the sangria on you,” Cameron warns.

Larissa laughs. The girls might play up their cattiness but it’s just friendly competition. Another thing you never really had growing up. Friends.

They leave the acorns in the grass. You’re quiet as you follow them onwards. You look back just before you’re out of sight of the river. You don’t see the man but you have no doubt he meant what he said. He knew about Larissa and the necklace, that’s enough for you.

🌄

As a gracious loser, and a terrified individual, you volunteer to make a pitcher of sangria for the other girls. They happily accept the offer and go out to get the fire started. The night is quickly setting in as you watch the time on your phone. As there is only one solar charger amongst the bunch of you, your battery stays at fifty percent. Without reception, it isn’t of much use anyhow.

You mix the wine, brandy, lemonade and fruit together with a wooden spoon. You hear Larissa giving orders outside over the crackle of the fire. The locket with the pearl. You know she’s still wearing it, you looked for it and there it was, around her neck. What use is jewelry all the way up here.

Your thoughts are split by the snap of the spring door. Jodi tramps inside and huffs.

“Is the wine ready yet? She’s driving me nuts.”

“I’ll bring it out,” you assure her, “why don’t you grab the kebabs, they’re ready to go.”

You nod to the pan of skewers and she lets out a disappointed grumble. She takes the pan and leaves you again to ponder your impromptu mission. You’re not stupid enough to ask for the locket. You watch the oranges swirl in the wine mixture…

You can’t. Can you? You peek over your shoulder and peek through the window. They wouldn’t notice. You could say you used more wine than you thought.

You turn your back to the window. The girls can survive a few bendaryls, they won’t survive that man and his knife. You can deal with hating yourself. That’s never been hard.

You tiptoe across the kitchen. You don’t know why you think they’ll hear you, your guilt just makes you paranoid. You go down to the room and search in the lower bunk for your bag. You take out your box of emergency benadryl and slide out a full insert. Just enough for an edge, nothing deadly.

You sneak back out and drop the pills one by one into the sangria. You stir and you stir and you stir. Finally, you’re content that your potion is complete. Your curse is pharmaceutical allergy relief with a side of drowsiness. The girls are probably too thirsty to notice you’re not sharing.

🌙

Jodi stumbles back from the outhouse. You watch her cautiously, ready to hop up and catch her. She manages to make her way back to the fire and falls into the folding chair with a burp.

“Damn, that sangria is strong,” Cameron chimes.

“And it’s going right through me,” Jodi slurs into a giggle.

“Me too,” Larissa stands up and puts her hands in front of her shorts, “my turn.”

You listen to her go around the side of the cottage, her sandals scraping and scuffling. Jodi leans her head back and snorts, waking herself and lurching forward. You get up and keep her from falling out of her chair.

“Hey, you should lay down,” you say.

“Lightweight,” Cameron teases and gulps down a mouthful. You try not to cringe.

“Whatever, I’m fine,” Jodi babbles.

“Come on,” you get her up, letting her lean on you heavily.

She’s dragging her feet as you get her across the yard and to the steps of the deck. You haul her up and through the back door. Inside, you feel her slacken on your arm until you're pretty much carrying her. You get her into her bed and roll her onto her stomach, already snoring.

You check the time. It’s late. Just after eleven.

You go back out, the blaze of the fire obscuring your view of the yard.

“Not you too,” Cameron chortles as Larissa falls past the chair trying to sit.

“I think it’s time to call it a night.”

“Bleh, listen to the office administrator, she never gives it up,” Larissa sneers, “isn’t that right?”

“Yeah, I guess,” you agree softly. You want all the abuse she has to offer you. You deserve it.

“You wanted to be princess for the night,” Cameron calls over, “let her carry you to bed.”

You ignore Cameron as you steady Larissa and direct her around the fire. You take the same path with the same end, dumping her in the singular queen she claimed for herself in the main bedroom. You make sure she’s on her stomach and shake out your nerves. 

You flip on the flashlight built into your phone and shine it over her. You apologise before you unclasp the necklace. It’s heavier than you expect. You tuck it in your pocket and leave her.

One more.

Cameron meets you at the door to your surprise. She’s yawning and staggering. You let her pass as she mutters about the fire. You follow her, making sure she gets to her bed before you go outside to kill the fire.

When all is dark and still, you look up at the moon and measure the journey ahead of you. What if you get lost? What if you can’t remember the way back? You think you do. Doesn’t matter. It’s almost half past and you need to get going.

You grip your phone as you come out around the front of the cottage. You remember that you came from the right… didn’t you? You turn on your flashlight again as the darkness consumes you. You tremble at the sheer endlessness of the night.

As you set off, you hear every twig snap, every branch sway, every bat squeaking from some hidden nook. You are exposed to the unseen. Easy prey.

You hear the low trickle of water, louder in the dearth of night. You use it to guide you, flinching as leaves brush against you. You shine the light around you, trying to get a glimpse of your surroundings. It only illuminates the shadows and adds to the depths of the blackness.

A noise rolls in the darkness. Thunderous as it grows louder, footsteps making themselves heard, a beast closing in. His laughter comes from all around you, dizzying you as you spin and try to find him.

At once, he quiets and you hear nothing but the stirring of the breeze. No footsteps, not laughter, only the frantic beat of your heart. You stop and squint as you shakily raise your phone, making out the thick trunk of a tree.

There is a sudden warmth behind you. His hand is on yours, squeezing before he rips away your cell. You hear it land in the grass. His other arm hooks around your middle. His breath seeps through your hair and across your scalp.

“Give it.”

You reach into your pocket, squirming as you dig out the necklace. You hold it up with a whimper and he wraps your hand up in his again. His rough skin sends a shiver through you. He hums above the soft tinkle of the chain.

“Very good,” he keeps you close, “you are an obedient little pet, aren’t you?”

You don’t move, you don’t speak. He has what he wants. Now you want to go.

“I’ve decided,” he says bluntly. You hold your breath, trying to decipher his meaning. You try to pull away and his arm hooks tighter around you. “I will take you too.”

“What?” You quiver and grasp his arm, shoving on it without result, “no, let me go–”

“You can scream for me,” he walks you forward until you collide with a tree, putting your hands out to keep from being crushed against the bark, “the louder, the better.”

Your fingertips curl painfully against the tree. He traps you against the tree as he lets out a grow, the heat of his breath and body enshrines you. You shake and whine as panic sinks into your chest.

“Please, let me go. Please, I did what you asked–”

“I’m not asking,” he snarls and grabs your shoulder.

He spins you so violenly you can’t help but fall back against the tree. The subtle friction of metal on leather cools your blood as a sliver of moonlight gleans off the knife’s edge. You brace the tree as you babble dumbly. You don’t want to die.

He brings the curve tip of the knife to the hem of your shirt and yanks up, shearing open the front so that it falls open, revealing the bralette beneath. He makes as quick work as that, slicing up the middle and exposing you to the night chill.

He stands over you, bearing in on you as he bends slowly. You gasp as he clutches a handful of your hair and pulls your head to the side. He leans in and grazes your throat with his teeth. You writhe, caught in the arrest of his gruff touch.

He bits down, pinching your flesh until you cry out. He snickers and unclenches his teeth, trailing further down, teasing along your collarbone and over the tender flesh of your shoulder, once more nipping into you. He tortures your flesh, sucking it until it throbs.

He goes lower, tracing his path first with the metallic cold of the blade, then piercing with his teeth. He bites into the curve of your tit, he leaves sore marks blazing all around, at last taking a nipple in his mouth. His tongue swirls around your hard bud, toying with it, sucking, flicking, until finally he bites again.

You sob as he sinks his teeth in. You feel the flesh break and the warmth trickles from you into his mouth. He hums as he drinks it in, unlatching to let your rough skin turn fiery in the open air. He tends to the next, just as cruelly, as your body wracks in shock and agony.

How can this be happening? It can’t be real. You don’t understand. Who is this man? Where did he come from? You close your eyes, trying to hide from reality as it nips at your flesh.

You drone as he leaves a trail of spit and blood down your stomach, biting again and again, a tortured trail down to the top of your denim shorts. Your legs shake, threatening to give out.

“Ah, ah, ah,” he tisks and pinches your thigh, “you are weak but you will not give up, pet.”

He cuts along the seams of your shorts, left then right. You tremble with bubbling, teary gulps. The denim falls to your feet and he uses the end of his knife to play with the cotton elastic of your panties. He clicks his tongue but does not voice his amusement further.

He drops to his knees, a hand framing your hip as your legs quake. He squeezes, his thumb jabbing into your pelvis. He drags his knife down the front of your panties and hooks the fabric along the tip. He tugs until they rip, breaking through the fabric, cutting a line along your cunt. 

He turns the flat of the blade against your flesh, grazing the folds before pulling it away. You bat your lashes as terror overflows. Your head lolls as your muscles twitch. You see the man’s faint shadow in the slats of moonlight breaking between the cedar trunks, you hear him lick the blade with a purr.

A silver shine reflects the eerie night glow as he raises his knife. You scream as he aims it toward you, stabbing into the wood just beside you. Your heart hammers to cacophony as he laughs at your fright.

He pushes his hand up your thigh, his calloused fingers mean against your soft skin. He feels along the shorn cotton and dips two fingers into the opening. He delves between your lips, flicking his fingers up and down your cunt. Your legs quiver and you clutch onto the divots in the bark, fighting not to fold into a heap.

He slides his fingers back and forth, feeling every part of you, doting on your clit, only to trail back to your entrance. You suck in air sharply and sob. Please just do it. Just let it be over with.

He pushes into you. Slowly, Deliberately. He leans forward and nuzzles the soft vee of hair along your cunt and sighs into you as he wiggles his fingers deeper and deeper. You groan as he stretches you. Even as your body reacts, even as the slickness welcomes the intrusion, it hurts.

He growls as he meets some resistance. You clench around his knuckles and he rams his fingers into you, to their limit. You shriek and your sandals slip in the dirt. Your nail catches in the veins of the tree and snaps.

The coolness of his tongue frightens you as it pokes out and slides along your lips. He tilts his head and glides between your folds, doting on your clit with furious flutters. You gulp and gasp, panting as a new heat blooms inside of you. Your pulse races with more than adrenaline.

He eases his fingers back then in again. Your cunt clenches around him, constricting as his tongue toys with you, flurries your nerves to an unbearable storm. Your insides clutch as rivulets of hot and cold gather in your core, mingling to a fiery roil.

You spasm, stunned by your own body. You stand on your toes as your muscles tauten and your nerves ping off each other. You cum with a raspy whine, forced over the edge by the battle of his thrusting fingers and diligent tongue.

His laughter rumbles through you as he indulges in your dissemblance. He slows as you heave helplessly. He slides his fingers out of you, leaving an emptiness there, and wipes your cum down your leg. He parts from your cunt entirely, a rocky snarl as he stands.

You smell yourself on his breath as he comes close again. He grabs the back of your neck and draws you away from the tree. Your legs tingle and shake beneath you. He turns and hurls you down to the ground. You land on your knees, hitting your elbows in the dirt.

He grabs your hips, keeping them up. He kneels behind you, one hand brushing up your back and forcing your chest down to the ground. You don’t fight him, you have nothing left.

He feels along your panties, hooking his fingers in the rent of the fabric and tears it further up your ass. He gropes you roughly, digging his nails into your skin and dragging them up, leaving hot scratches along your ass. He runs his hand from your shoulders to your hip, gripping you as his other hand retreats from your ass.

The air stills and your ears ring as each breath scalds in your chest. You stare into the deep void of the forest as his zipper splits through the silence. Time slows as dread suffocates you. This is it. This is really happening.

His fingers tickle along your ass and you twitch. He reaches your cunt, rubbing and spreading your lips, taunting you as he curves his fingers along it. He edges closer on your knees, pushing yours wider, and he pulls his hand away.

He prods you with his tip, making a slow path down to your entrance. He circles it as he groans, basking in the tension of that moment. He leans against you until his tip slips into you. You strain around him, heaving into a horrifying wail as he pushes deeper.

He reaches to your neck, pinning your face in the dirt as he jerks his hip, filling you with the single, agonizing motion. You cry out louder, your horror echoing into the sky. Your head quakes and your ears vibrate with the volume of your own grief, rising from you without restraint.

He slides back and snaps into you again. The slap of flesh underlines your breathy weeps. His weight puts an ache in your neck and down your spine. Your fingers dip into the dirt as you clutch at handfuls of dirt. He bucks again, again, again, each time growling with delight.

His palm cracks against the side of your ass, a new pain radiating through your hips. With each thrust, he smacks you, curling his nails into you, pinching, only to do it again. You whimper and wail, trapped in his fervour as you taste soil and the salt of your tears.

He bends over you, hooking his arm around your middle and the other around your neck. He sits up with you against him. His hand brushes up your side and kneads your chest as he rocks you in his lap. Your head lolls as you hiccup through your tears.

He ruts from below, splitting you in two as his muscle bulges around your neck. You wheeze as he squeezes tighter and tighter, until the world speckles to grey and black. You feel his final, jarring rams as they throb in your core, and the sudden burst of heat inside you. Almost soothing as it assures you of the end.

But it is not. He puts you on your back. Senseless, dazed, he’s on top of you, crawling over you like an animal. He fucking you against the ground, holding your leg bent against him, biting into the flesh along your shoulder. Torturing you from the inside until he’s spent again.

Not spent, not done. You’re on your side, the world flickering beneath teared-webbed lashes, each ruts shaking you. Legs together, he claps against your thighs until again he empties into you with a raucous roar.

Again, again, again. Until you’re smeared with dirt, grass, sweat, and cum. Until you’re left an empty husk across the forest floor. 

Your eyelids part as he pulls the blade from the tree, a softer light emanating from the sky as the dawn approaches. He sheathes the knife as he marches around you, poking you with the dirt of his boot. He stops and squats at your side, a crooked smile on his lips.

“This hunt is not over, pet,” he reaches to brush a roughened thumb across your cheek, “I know you are stronger than this.”

He stands again and rolls his shoulders as he shakes out his mussed curls. He takes a step forward, then another, and another, striding into the sunrise without a look back. You lay prone across the lumpy ground, trying to untangle his words. They are more than a warning, they are a promise.

[siampie]

Risk and Reward||Chapter 9: Like Real People Do

Pairing: Matt Murdock x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 2.7k

Summary: Just fluffy moments between you and Matt.

Warnings/tags: lots of fluff and a hint of angst.

A/N: Sorry for the late update, life had been hectic lately. And also been dealing with some face pain due to a wisdom tooth. Commentaries and reblogs are greatly appreciated.     

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Dividers by @cafekitsune

Song the title is referring to:

I had a thought, dear, however scary

About that night, the bugs and the dirt

Why were you digging? What did you bury

Before those hands pulled me from the earth?

I will not ask you where you came from

I will not ask and neither should you

Honey, just put your sweet lips on my lips

We should just kiss like real people do

The soft music filled your apartment while you hummed, swaying lightly, to the song. Enjoying one of those rare moments where you felt in the mood to cook a full meal for yourself. The pan singing as the freshly cut vegetables were frying in the hot oil. You added the broccoli to the stir-fry you were cooking, your eyes caught sight of the numerous drawings on your fridge. They had been made with love by your nieces and nephews. Your goddaughter, now 6, were also learning how to write now. So, of course, some of drawings were now accompanied with love notes.

“Je t’aime, Marraine.” (I love you, Godmother.)

The words were misspelled, and she still needed to get a grasp on grammar. But every time you read the words; you felt your heart swell with love. And the few times she came to visit you, she was proud to see her pictures on your fridge. And she and her siblings, and her cousin, drew more of those stick figure, knowing their arts would find room on your fridge and walls.

The shrill sound of your ringtone pulled you out of your thoughts.

“Ah, you’ve reached the procrastination hotline. Please hold…indefinitely.” You answered the call.

“How many of those do you have?” Your sister’s voice came from the other end of the line.

“As many as I need.” You shot back. “So, what’s up?”

“I need to vent,” she declared.

“About?”

“Our brother; Henry.” She dramatically sighed.  

“I’m listening,” you puffed out a long breath.

“So, you know how he decided to let mom have access to his kids,” she started. You hummed, “well, now, his in-laws are getting involved and asking me, why don’t I want mom anywhere near my boy?”

“How is that any of their concerns? It’s your kid, you get to decide who’s in his life or not. Why are they getting involved?” You asked quite angrily, you never liked your brother’s in-laws. They were quite nosy people, always wondering when you were going to have kids, while your own father just let you live your life at your own pace.

“Oh, that’s not even the best part,” Ann continued. “They think it would be beneficial for my son to meet his maternal grandmother. Can you believe that?”

“I can believe they haven’t been hit enough in their lives, that I can believe.” You replied, your sister chuckled. “No one cares what they think. Axel is your son, and you are his mother. If you don’t want our mother to meet him, it is your decision. And frankly, bad parents don’t get to be grandparents. So, I’d say don’t let her meet your little boy.”

“Thank you,” she exclaimed. “I thought I was going crazy over here.”

“You’re not, don’t worry,” you reassured her. “And I’m fairly certain, Dee would agree with me.” You killed the fire under the pan, “what did Henry say to that?”

“Nothing. As usual.” Ann scoffed, “Didn’t defend my decision or even tried to explain to them why I wouldn’t want that.”

“It doesn’t need explaining, they know our story. It’s quite understandable why you wouldn’t,” you leaned your elbows on your counter. “Do you want me to give him call?”

“No, it won’t be necessary,” she told you. “I just needed to know I wasn’t alone in this.”

“You’re not,” you assured her. “Just to let you know, if you do decide to let her see little Axel, I won’t be mad. I’ll support you no matter what, you know that right?”

“I know,” she sighed. “Would you?” she questioned you, “would you let her in?”

“No,” your answer was firm. “Never again. Do you want to let her in?”

“No,” Ann was a firm as you in her answer. “She doesn’t deserve it.”

“Exactly,” you nodded. “Don’t let them get into your head. They’re not your in-laws, so, their opinions don’t really matter.”

“You’re right,” she agreed. “So, whatcha doin’?”

“Cooking some stir-fry, and then some netflix and chill—or maybe some video games, haven’t decided yet.”

“Oh, come on!” Ann groaned, “It’s Friday night, you’re single. You should be out there having fun, meeting new people. Do this for me, let me live vicariously through you. Please!”

You huffed out a laugh. She had yet to know about Matthew. It wasn’t that you didn’t want to share him with your family, you did. You wanted them to know about the new man in your life. You wanted them to share in your happiness. However, you were just very protective of your relationship with Matt. You wanted to keep him for yourself a little while longer.

But this was your sister. Your first ever best friend. It didn’t seem fair to hide it from her. Not when she came to you first, after she had said yes to her, then, fiancé.

“Well,” you started, “it’s been a very long week. And I didn’t feel like socializing tonight.”

“Typical,” Ann snorted.

There was a knock on your door. “And who said I was single?” Your feet made no sound as you quietly walked towards your door.

“You have a boyfriend!” She squealed, “tell me everything.”

You shook your head while pulling your door open, revealing Matt on the other side.

His tie was loose and crooked around his neck, his dark and soft locks, a mess on his head. A grin was plastered on his face, your lips tugging up at the corner, mirroring his.

“Hi, sweetheart,” he greeted you. You caught the smell of Josie’s stale beer in his breath as he leaned in to rest a soft kiss on your lips.

“Hey, Matty.”

“He calls you ‘sweetheart,’” your sister’s voice rose from your phone, reminding you that she was still on the line with you. “What’s his name?”

“Matt,” you answered quickly as Matt let himself into your apartment. “I’ll be right with you, okay?” He nodded with a smile, shedding his coat.

“So, that’s you meant by Netflix and chill, uh?” You sister teased,

“No, I genuinely meant Netflix and chill,” you hissed at her as you watched Matt sit down on your couch.

“No one means Netflix and chill when they say Netflix and chill,” Ann told you. “It’s what my husband and I get up to when baby’s with grandma.”

“Nope,” you shook your head. “I don’t need to hear about that. Absolutely not,”

“Alright, sorry,” she chuckled. “I’ll let you join your beau, but first tell me the basics. What’s his name? What does he do in life? And how hot is he? And most importantly, how long have you been dating?”

You looked up, your eyes landing on the back of Matt’s head. “Alright, basics,” you turned around and leaned against your counter. “His name is Matthew Murdock. He’s a lawyer and has his own firm. He is blind and very—very hot. And sweet as honey. And it’s been—almost four months.”

“Almost four months? And you kept it from me?”

“Says the girl who only told us she was pregnant at the six months mark?” You reminded her.

“It’s not my fault, the props I needed to make the big announcement took too long to be delivered.” She defended herself, “when do we get to meet him?” Ann questioned excitedly.

“Not yet, I don’t want you to scare him away.”

“We won’t, I promise,” your sister said, her voice going a little higher.

“We’ll see about that,” you snorted. “Look, I gotta go. My boyfriend’s over.”

“Okay,” she retorted. “Go Netflix and chill, ‘all night long,’” she sang the last part.

“Alright—bye bye.” You said before hanging up.

You put your phone on the counter, heaving out a deep breath. You had not lied to your sister, you didn’t feel like socializing with anyone that night, so, you opted out of your usual hangout at Josie’s. You walked up to the couch where Matt had settled in, waiting for you patiently. Leaning over the back of the couch, you put your arms around his shoulders and laid a kiss on his cheek. His hands came up, his fingers wrapping around your forearms.

“Not that I’m not glad to see you,” you started, “I’m very glad to see you but aren’t you supposed to be at Josie’s with the others?”

“I’ve been looking forward to spend some time with my girlfriend, and she doesn’t show up,” Matt said quietly.

“I did warn you,” you told him, one of your hands raking through his hair.

“I know,” he gave a pleased hum, “I thought I skipped on the hangout and come and find you here,” your lips tugged up at the corner. “I just missed you,” Matt admitted, pulling your arm away from around his shoulders, to rest a kiss on your wrist.

A soft smile made its way onto your face, “I missed you too.” His lips found yours, kissing yours in a weird angle over the back of the couch. You pulled away, “do you want some food? I cook a really mean stir-fry. Or so, I’ve been told.”

You later found yourself lying in bed, with Matt’s nose buried in your neck. His body was draped over yours, not crushing you under his weight. His weight on top of yours felt comforting, you loved feeling the way he was relaxing under your touch. You wanted to ravish him here and there, but you were enjoying this cuddle session too much to put a stop to it, in favor of mind-blowing sex. One of his hands found its way under your shirt,

“Long week?” He asked quietly.

“Yeah,” you replied in the same manner. “My workload has sort of doubled, I also had to go to meetings. Too many if you ask me,” you explained, your hand rubbing up and down his spine. “I just wanted to enjoy a night to myself, without having to socialize with anyone.”

Matt kissed your collarbone, “sorry, I’ve ruined that for you.”

“I’m not complaining,” you smiled softly. “And you haven’t ruined anything. I had a few hours to myself staring at a wall, which was truly relaxing,” your lips found his brows. “And you’re not anyone, you’re Matt. My ruggedly handsome boyfriend,” a small giggled escaped your lips.

He moved off of you slightly, and you whined at the move. He leaned on his elbow, facing you, his sightless eyes staring at your chin. “Stare at a wall?” His brows were scrunched up.

You giggled again, he smiled at the sound, “yeah, stare at a wall. Technically, not for hours and it wasn’t really a wall. But I do stare at nothing at times, and let my mind wander to the confines of the universe.” You finished with a solemn tone.  

“The confines of the universe, uh?” He laughed, “what does that entail exactly?”

“Well,” your hand ran up his arm, “it’s just another way to say daydreaming really.”

His hand slid higher under your shirt, “what were you daydreaming about?”

Your face flushed in embarrassment; the top of your ears heated up. You usually didn’t share the object of your daydreams. It was in your opinion too intimate for anyone to be let in, and also, you didn’t want them to judge you for it. You’d rather tell him something about a really embarrassing experience than to share what they were about.

You started toying with the short sleeve of his black shirt, “nothing really interesting. It’s just, you know—” you shrugged up one of your shoulders. “—stupid stuff, nothing too important,” you cupped his face, your thumb running across his cheek, rough under your fingers. “And that’s not the point.”

“What’s the point, then?”  Matt smiled at you.

“The point was that daydreaming is really relaxing and resting. It’s like my brain shut off, but not completely. My mind can just wander aimlessly and it’s beneficial—for the health.”

“Ah,” he nodded, “should I try it then?”

“You should,” you replied. “Studies showed that people who ‘practiced’ daydreaming have better control over their emotions, have more empathy and are naturally better problem solvers.”

“You read a study about daydreaming?” His eyebrows went up.

You barked out a laugh, “yeah, I looked it up.” You bit down on your bottom lip, “you think I’m weird, don’t you?”

“Sweetheart, I don’t think you are weird. I know you are,” you slapped his shoulder. Matt burst out a laugh. “It’s part of your charm.”

“Huh, uh,” you nodded.

“Truly, it is. Next to your voice,” he laid a kiss on your throat, “to your laugh,” another kiss on the corner of your lips. Your breath hitched in your throat. “Your weirdness is one my favorite thing,” his lips brushed against your temple. “It’s very entertaining.”

“It is, isn’t it?”

“Very much.”

He dove for your neck, and started peppering kisses, down your collarbone, up your neck, before attacking your face. The action sent you into a fit of giggles. Being spurt on by your laugh, Matt kept on doing it. Conversation about your daydreams, or your weirdness completely forgotten. Especially when the peppered kisses turned into something more passionate and heated.

You were nearing the four months mark in your relationship with Matt. You often wondered how you’d gotten so lucky with this man. Everything seemed so easy with him. You, who needed alone time to recharge your social battery, found that you didn’t really need one with him. It was the complete opposite, spending time with Matt, recharged your social battery even faster.

Spring was slowly fading away, making room for Summer. The rising heat in the streets of Hell’s Kitchen had a way to irritate people. Walking to work with Amelia, had given you a glimpse into how quick and prone were to anger. All because of the rise in temperature. You didn’t truly mind it, although, at night you did leave a fan on, and slowly wore less and less clothes to bed.

“There isn’t even a lick of wind,” you complained to Amelia. “We should have taken a cab.”

“To go to Josie’s? You’re out of your mind,” Amelia snorted. “Don’t be such a wuss, it’s not that bad yet.”

“What do you mean yet?”

“I mean it’s only the beginning, and it’s going to get worse.” Amelia patiently explained. “It’s not for the weak.”

“Thanks that’s really helpful,” you said as she pushed the door open. “The coldest beer you have, Josie, please.” You almost begged the woman, sitting down on the stool.

“You’re so dramatic,” Amelia huffed out a laugh. “So, weren’t you suppose to meet up with lover boy tonight?”

“He cancelled,” you nodded, turning your stool to face Amelia. “He’s still working on his big case. Needed to tie up some loose ends.”

“When’s the court date?” Amelia questioned; Josie pushed your beers towards you.

“Not for another month,” you retorted. “But you know court case takes a lot, and they need to make sure that they covered all their basis. So, they won’t have any surprises when it comes to trial.”

“You did a deep dive on this, didn’t you?” Amelia cocked up of her eyebrows.

“Not exactly deep dive, but I did look it up,” you gave her a sheepish smile. You took a sip of the cold beer, “That feels so good.”

“You are so not surviving the summer,” she joked.

“Oh, I will. Just to spite you, and Summer.”

Your window was cracked opened slightly, in hopes you would feel some breeze to alleviate the heat. You lied down on the cold floorboard, staring at the ceiling. He had cancelled again that night. His latest case was more complex than he had anticipated. It wasn’t that big of a deal, you understood. But adding to the cancellations, his absences on Fridays at Josie’s had also become more frequent. It wasn’t unusual. He had been unavailable on some Fridays, in the beginning of your relationship, working on opening statements. And you had often popped in to visit him, and fell asleep on his couch while he did so.

It wasn’t unusual.

And yet, you couldn’t help but feel that Matt was probably pulling away from you. Maybe that was the moment the other shoe would drop. Maybe you were right, everything with Matt was too good to be true.

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[perpetuelledaydreaming]

Mamma mia | chapter two

listen to: Crazier - Taylor Swift| This is me trying - Taylor Swift (playlist here)

warnings: accidental pregnancy, smut 18+, raising a child alone. warnings will be added as the story progresses. For this chapter maybe being a single mom.

series masterlist + read the next chapter early on my ko-fi!!

It’d been over twenty minutes since Augustine and James had burst through the door and had dragged Bob in, first to the sunroom, then to the living room. 

It had been over fifteen minutes since Augustine went fully stalked on Bob. She hadn’t stopped looking at him with her light green doe-eyes, a permanent smile drawn on her face as she listened to Bob answering her questions and James. 

“Bob, you should stay for dinner!” Augustine insisted with a happy giggle as she grabbed Bob’s hand, pulling him from the couch and chasing both you and James to the kitchen. 

Bob seemed overwhelmed, to say the least. It usually happened with Augustine, she had the energy of a thousand suns. Her mother often told both you and James that she was happy that she had both of you guys in her life, you could keep her in the ground. She wasn’t quite right about that, you often encouraged Auggies dreams, eccentric hobbies, and outlandish passions. It was what you loved the most about her. 

“You’d want me to stay?” he asked meekly as Augustine sat him on the table of the kitchen and then climbed on it, placing her feet on the chair he was seated in, he moved his legs to give her space as she places her chin on her hand and watched him with dreamy eyes. 

“You want him to stay?” James asked as she tried to check on the pie she’d decided to make for the three of you and then on the pasta she was brewing, before she ran to the fridge, taking out some ice and placing them on your wrist while you stirred the pasta, helping her. 

She was always cooking a bit too much for only the three of you and things that didn’t mix up. Gold dust woman played in the background of the kitchen, you gazed at Bob who seemed a bit dumbfounded by all the activity going on in a small house, just three girls there. You smiled. It must’ve seen chaotic to anyone that didn’t know better but the three of you knew each other so well that you worked like clockwork.

“Augustine,” You warned her as you sat down next to Bob, giving him a warm smile and then returning to Augustine. 

“What?” she shrugged as she twirled her bright auburn hair. “You’ve been so nice to our friend, we should let him stay,” she insisted as she coyly traced patterns on Bob’s forearm. 

She was smitten. Bob seemed a bit petrified by her forwardness but there was a slight gleam in his eyes. 

“You’re treating him as if he’s a puppy,” James tutted Augustine as she added a last touch of salt to the pasta. 

Augustine tilted her head to the side as if she could see it. You were sure she would paint it, she was an artist, and she would spend her time drawing and painting common day-to-day things, sometimes even weird things. You didn’t doubt for a second she was already deciding if Bob was more of a dachshund or a golden retriever. 

“Auggie,” you said before you hissed slightly after a certain move of your wrist. Bob's eyes fell on you, immediately concerned.

“Are you okay?” he asked, watching carefully, making sure that you hadn’t damaged the bandage. Your wrist twinged with a faint pain as you looked at how he held your wrist, examining it carefully. 

“Yeah,” you smiled sweetly at him. He liked how you looked at him, there was a softness in your eyes but also a slight hint of fire. Bob nodded with a smile, raising the glasses from the tip of his nose. “I’ll show Bob the way out,”

“Bye, Bob!” Augustine called as you walked away from the kitchen, Bob following you. He turned around and gave Augustine a handsome smile. It made her squeal. 

You chuckled as you reached the door and opened it for Bob. Closing your eyes, you took a deep breath of the salty air, the sound of the waves crashing against the ocean, you wondered if your date with Bob would lead to a summer with him. 

“Your friends are really nice,” he muttered, making you open your eyes as you turned towards him. A slight blush spread through your cheeks, he noticed. 

“Thank you,” you answered as you leaned against the frame of the door. 

Bob smiled. He leaned into you, and your breath hitched in your throat slightly before closing your eyes, feeling his lips pressing against yours. “I’ll talk to you soon,” he muttered, his voice a bit gruff. 

You nodded, wide-eyed as you kissed him one more time softly before he finally left. Your heart hammered in your chest as you watched him walk away, biting your inner lip as you wondered if he would be the rest of the summer for you. Staying there for a moment, you let your mind wander, there were so many endless opportunities this summer, and your life was just going to start. 

By the time you returned to the kitchen, James had already served dinner. She and Augustine were whispering excitedly, their eyes fell on you immediately. They squealed loudly while you laughed as you sat at the table with them.

“He’s so cute!” Augustine giggled first, she grabbed your hand excitedly barely knocking the wine from the table, James catching it easily. “How well does he kiss?”

“You want to kiss him?” James asked with a huff. 

Augustine's eyes lit up. “Can I?”

“Be my guest,” you laughed, holding her hand as Augustine shrieked. James' eyes landed on you, and she raised her eyebrow at you, warning you silently. “Sharing is caring,” you shrugged.

Augustine let out a gasp before she leaned over the table, almost knocking the wine from the table again, and kissed you loudly on the cheek. 

“That’s a real friend!” 

“You can’t!” James intervened. “You always do this Auggie, you fall for the ones that don’t seem to hurt a fly and then you end up with a broken heart,”

Augustine seemed to be deflated, her eyes turning a bit sad as she recalled her past flings. Many flings. Augustine could charm anyone and she fell easily, she fell hard. You tilted your head towards James, squinting softly at her before you took Augustine's hand and squeezed it. James shrugged. 

“You’re right,” Augustine huffed. “Quiet ones are the worst,” she said as she took a big bite of her pasta. 

“And you said that you were on relationship celibacy this summer,”

“We all are,” you assured James. 

“Kisses?Yes. Foreplay? Sure.” James stated seriously as if it was a matter of national security while she sipped a bit of her wine. 

Augustine’s light seemed to return as her eyes wandered mindlessly on the kitchen, her blush returning to her cheeks. “Dot. Dot. Dot?” she asked James with a smile.

James nodded playfully. “Fine by me,” she stated. “Whirlwind romances, one night stands and not looking back?”

Augustine and you agreed immediately, all three of you laughing loudly as you finally ate your dinner peacefully. You tried not to think too much about Bob as you all ate and then cleaned up. It didn’t work though, by the time you finished the dishes and finally went to lie in your bed, you were already thinking about late-night dips in the ocean, the salty taste if you kissed him there, his fingers touching your skin again. 

“Sweets,” James called you, snapping out of your thoughts. “Get ready,” she said as she leaned on the frame of your door. You frowned. 

“Why?”

“We’re leaving for a party in an hour and a half,” James explained as she washed her teeth, Augustine already had the rollers in her head and was brushing her teeth as well. 

You groaned slightly. “I just spend so much time at the hospital, I can’t like to get a pass?” you asked them, puppy-eyeing them, hoping they would let you stay and rest.

James snorted as Augustine gasped, audibly. “You promised this summer was going to be ours,” she insisted as she sat on your bed. “You can’t back out,” she warned.

You rolled your eyes before you smiled at her.

“Fine,”

SEVEN YEARS LATER

Friday mornings were your favorite in the summer. They always seemed a bit too perfect, too warm, too golden for them to actually exist. The kitchen windows are open, the large glass panels giving you a perfect view of the beach, letting the sound of waves crashing against the sand. You sip on your coffee as you watch Inés carefully drawing a picture with the most precision you’d ever guessed a six-year-old could have. 

“What are you doing my sweet girl?” James asks as she climbs down the snail-like chairs with her laptop in hand. She was probably giving a lecture, it was already a bit late for her to be getting out of her room at this time. 

“Look, Auntie!” 

Inés smiles brightly as she watches her aunt climbing from the stairs. Quickly, showed the picture to James, even though she had refused to let you see the unfinished product. You shake your head as James gasps dramatically while examining the drawing. It was for her summer classes that had started this week, homework she had assured you. 

“This is the most beautiful painting I’ve ever seen!” James gasped as she sat down next to Inés while you stood up, shaking your head as you smell the pancakes cooking on the stove. The smell fills the air, and a sense of contentment and peace fills your chest. 

Last night you hadn’t really slept that well, honestly, it wasn’t until Inés climbed to your bed around three in the morning that you had managed to let go of everything that had happened the previous night. When you woke up this morning, you’d tried to forget it, you’d promised yourself to let it go. You hadn’t thought about them in a long time and you knew this town better than they ever could, you knew how to avoid them. You knew you could. 

“It’s me and mommy,” Inés explains to James, pointing at the circle and stick figures she’d made. You smile proudly as you serve Inés her pancakes, even though they were only sticks and figures, Augustine had already told Inés about the depth in a painting and she’d managed well enough. 

“That’s amazing, baby,” you congratulate your daughter, as you caressed her chubby cheeks while gazing at her sea-foam green eyes. 

Inés smiles happily at you while she looked down at the drawing for a second and frowned slightly. You caught it right away, the way her little brows furrowed. 

“Mommy,” she asks, you can feel the uneasiness in her voice. 

“Yeah?”

“Can I draw Auntie Auggie and Auntie James?” she hesitates. “Since I don’t have a dad, I don’t want it to look empty,”

You flinch at the question, ever so slightly, then you manage to set your face back in a mask of calm. There was a beat of silence in the air as you took a deep breath, James’ eyes fell on you. Inés had asked about her father ever since she started kindergarten, before that the only type of family she knew was the one you’d molded for her.  

“Of course baby,” you say. “You can add grandma too,” 

Inés’ face lit up again, that joyful smile that you used to recognize in someone else years before appeared on her face, and a noise that registered delight escaped her little lips. Without any hesitation, she takes her pencil colors and continues her hard work. 

James glances at you again, but you’re no longer in that kitchen. You’re back on the Hard Deck the day before, watching the ghosts of your past emerging from the shadows, causing you to reevaluate every decision you’d ever made. 

“Hey,” James says. 

You snap out of your thoughts as you glance down at your coffee and the pancakes, trying to take a deep breath before looking at James. 

“Why don’t you finish that, I have to show mommy a little something,” James asks Inés, who simply nodded her head. 

You follow James to the living room, it’d changed a lot in the past few years, the old green sofás were no longer there. Instead, cozy white sofás surround the place, with a nice coffee table and books. Not like before, not like it was when they spent their nights here. 

“When are you going to tell her she does have a father?” 

“I’ve told her she does have one,” you snip at James. “She doesn’t need to know who he is. I’ll tell her when the time’s right”

“The time is now,” James says. “She’s starting first grade and you know how mean children are,”

It feels like the air was sucked out of the room as you stare at James. The way that your chest aches, the way your heart contorts in your chest. At first, you believe that you’re scared, you’re scared because you never prepared yourself for this. Honestly, nothing with Inés was really prepared or thought out, not even her birth. And yet you know that’s not it, it takes you a moment to realize. Guilt. Guilt because you feel like you’re setting up your kid for failure, guilt because her dad is in this town, guilt because you honestly don’t really know-

“Hey,” James calls as she grabs your hand. “You with me?”

Fighting for your tears to remain in your eyes, you nod. “Inés has a strong support system, she has me, she has you two, and my mother,” you say. “Just because she doesn’t have the traditional nuclear family, it doesn’t mean that she’s not okay,”

“I never said,”

“The family I created for her is beautiful, she has a sense of community and belonging and she’s happy,” you suck in a breath. “I don’t need this right now,”

Inés called you back into the kitchen and you don’t give time to James to bring up the topic anymore. You praise her for her creativity and talent, and she beams with pride as you tell her that you’ll put it in the sunroom along with her other drawings. Maybe even frame it. As you clean up the breakfast dishes, you feel grateful that James lets you be, taking Inés from your hands as she will drive her to summer camp.

By the time you get out of the house, it is already early afternoon. Fridays are a good day for you at work, always managing to draft and write all the documents requested from you in the morning, giving you the afternoon to run errands and spend time with Inés. A movie night was in order, Auggie had chosen it and Inés was excited to see Hocus Pocus, again. 

And then you recall that you still owe Penny Benjamin around twenty bucks, even more for the broken glass. You wince at the thought of going back to the Hard Deck but it’s still early, there’s no possible way that the Navy guys arrive there that early. Although, in all honesty, it’d been a while since you’d been that early to the small bar near the Beach. 

The sun was bright, and the air was hot but you try to take a deep breath as you walk up to the Hard Deck. There’s a dread as you stay out of the bar a little longer, the heat making your hair stick a little bit to your skin while you glare at the bar. 

I’m not fucking scared of a place. You tell yourself and yet you can feel the anxiety building up inside of your chest but you still walk up to the bar. With a deep breath, you push the door open. It was a little bit more packed than you expected it to be but alas, you don’t notice any uniforms near the bar. There’s only Penny, cleaning some glasses as she talks to Jimmy. 

“Loved your disappearing act from yesterday,” Penny says brightly.

“I know,” you groan as you fish around in your purse for your wallet. “Here’s what I owe you,” you offer to Penny.

“There’s really no need, kid,” Penny replies. 

“I insist,” 

Penny lets out a sigh as she shakes her head and places the money in her back pocket with a smile. You let out a deep breath as you nod to Penny and begin to turn away. 

“Are you going to tell me what was that yesterday?”

Your brows furrow immediately, and a twinge of anxiety ripples through your body as you turn to Penny, she was watching you intently. 

“It wasn’t anything,” you lie. Penny raises one eyebrow at you. “I mean, he was getting a little bit too close,” you finally say. 

She doesn’t believe you, you can see it in her eyes but she doesn’t bother you with questions and you’re slightly thankful for that. 

“I’ll see you around, kid,” Penny finally says and you nod.

“See ya,” you answer as you turn around and suddenly freeze. 

Bradley Bradshaw was never good at taking his eyes off of you. Often teasing him when his eyes lingered a bit longer on your body, on your face, you recall how your body felt like those days, how it vibrated every time his eyes fell on you. It doesn’t feel the same way now. Now, your mind goes into overdrive as he stares at you, as you see how his smile falters for a moment, and then drops completely as he sees you. 

And then, he walks behind him. 

Bob’s Floyd light smile still seems to make goosebumps appear all over your skin when in all honesty, it shouldn’t. But his smile doesn’t falter, you know when he’s genuine, you know that he’s actually happy to see you which in turn only makes you feel worse as both of them call your name at the same time. 

You stumble backward and something in your chest, a pressure that you hadn’t felt in a long time washes over you. It feels like you can’t breathe as both of them stare at each other with a frown. 

“Honey?”

Your vision goes blurry, and by the time you try to speak, your throat feels so tight that no words come out of your mouth. All you can feel is the panic rising inside your chest, your worst nightmare coming to life. 

Suddenly, everything goes black.

author's note: I'm so excited for chapter three! thank you so much for being patient with me!

taglist: @not-two-shrimp @startrekfangirl2233 @caitsymichelle13 @callsign-cherrybomb @books-are-escapes @siriusfahey @fulla02 @bananas1234michaelclifford-blog @2525sc @grxcisxhy-wp @cottagecori @shawnsblue @rogersbarnesxx @safeikik @mimisparkle12 @darkheartcherry @brokenhearts-world-blog @fudosl @lovingjakeseresin @strwbhrrygarfield @twsssmlmaa @wearewhoweare28 @ittydoor @lnmp89 @mickeygs-world @actuallyazriel @laracrofted @railmerooster @tempt-ress @eli2447 @callsign-cherrybomb @fulla02reads @saramaple @caidi-paris @astronomeoww @andromeda-starship @endofdays56 @hollydaddy @msunnyblog @na-ta-sh-aa @cottagecori @deadgirl02 @flashyourgreeneyesatme @abaker74 @thesimpybitch @pinkpantheris

[callmedylan]

Idea I had for a Dungeon Meshi swap AU

(Farcille and Chilaios fans why are we yet to make a swap AU where Laios x Chilchuck and Falin x Marcille swap.)

(P.S I only recently got into dungeon meshi like a month ago + I’m going off the anime and a bit of character facts from the manga so beware I might get some stuff wrong 💔)

Recently I’ve been cooking up (pun intended) this idea for a swap AU, ofc I love when ppl swap Falin and laios’s places but I wish they’d swap more characters and their stories, so it got me thinking about different possibilities.

what if Chilchuck and Laios were the ones that met in Magic school and become good friends? (for the sake of the AU let’s just say half foots live a bit longer so they age more similarly to humans). Chilchuck learned magic cause he didn’t want to be seen as weak or greedy for his race, which led him to getting miraculously accepted into a prestigious College for magic (which leads him to later learn Dark magic). It’s not his fault he befriended the “weirdo” human boy from said school and now has to save him (he’s worried sick he’s just emotionally constipated as hell).

Along with all this, after being saved from that spirit as a child, Laios realizes he has a love for monsters and what not; which later leads to his love for magic. When hes able to work with his little sister in their group as a Cleric, he was super excited to travel with friends and see all the monsters they come across, it’s too bad he ends up getting munched on by the red dragon.

Meanwhile Marcille is a half Elf for hire who was never able to master magic; And since elf’s aren’t known for their physical strength, she learned to disarm and detect traps. Ofc she probably had trouble with business because of this, but Falin and Laios found her situation super intriguing and hired her almost instantly.

Finally theres Falin, maybe after saving laios from that spirit as a child she realized she enjoyed combat and instead of going on to do magic she instead took a similar path as Canon laios and left home around 12 and later became the leader of their group. Of course while shes much more “mature” than Laios and is better at picking up social cues, she still has that weird fascination with eating monsters; she’s just way less extreme about it (guess it runs in the family).

Senshi could probably stay the same, but I could see him and namari swapping places (still deciding)

Some other roles that would be swapped (there’s more but I’m too lazy to list all of them):

Shuro <—> Maizuru

Kabru <—> Rin

Izutsumi <—> Kuro

dandan <—> Mickbell

(Note I’ll most likely make Farcille and Chilaios canon in this AU)

In this AU Marcille and Falin would actually get to develop their relationship some more and I think it’d be rlly fun for them to have this kinda awkward little Romance, like “hey ik your brother (and our friend) is getting digested rn but you’re rlly cute…”

Meanwhile Chilchuck is annoyed cause his best friend could possibly not be saved and die if they don’t hurry up and stop worrying about eating monsters and forming relationships (as he totally pushes down his feelings for Laios).

I really need to draw something for this AU, I think it’d be rlly fun.

Anyways hope y’all enjoyed my stupid little idea ramble.

[ok555ficideas]

Part of the next chapter of "We made these memories for ourselves" a buddie slow burn amnesia fic

Buck was looking around his loft and tried to take everything in. Maybe if he thought really hard, some memories would start reappearing. He started with the kitchen. It was the closest and he remembered Bobby telling him that he was a good cook. Supposedly, he was once terrible until the captain took pity on him and took him under his wing. He vaguely remembered his friends mentioning something about a break up induced baking spree, but for the life of him he couldn’t remember the name of the person who caused it, even though he was sure someone had told him that already. 

He went into the kitchen and stopped at the fridge. There was a picture of Maddie and Chim at their wedding. He made a mental note to ask them why it was taken at a hospital. 

“We should get an Uber.” 

A faint memory shot through him like lightning. It was nothing more than a sentence and one that made absolutely no sense. He chose to not focus on it. It wasn’t the first time something insignificant entered his brain for a second. The doctor said it was a good sign and that soon enough he should start getting back something more concrete.   

He looked back at the fridge and smiled at the sight of a drawing. He didn’t see his niece yet because he didn't want her to see him in a hospital, but he saw millions of pictures and heard even more stories, so he felt like he knew her. The fact that he had her drawing on his fridge made warmth spread all across his chest. 

He let his eyes trace over the surface in front of him and something felt off. The things that hang there were in a weird order. There were random empty spaces. It looked like there was supposed to be something there, but someone took it off and forgot to rearrange the rest to look normal. Buck tried to think of what it could be, but the more he tried the more tired he became. 

He gave up and decided to look into it more later. He made his way to the couch, because he didn't think he was strong enough to climb up the stairs. He sat down and immediately groaned in discomfort. It was the shittiest couch he has ever sat on, even though he didn’t remember sitting on any couches. But he was sure this one was the worst. 

There was no way he would get any rest. His back was aching and his legs threatened to give out under him, but he had no choice but to go up to the loft. He had nowhere else to go. 

“Please, don’t ask me how I am.” 

He shook the useless memory away and climbed up with a speed he wasn’t proud of. He finally made his way all the way up after what felt like hours. He wanted to immediately collapse onto the bed, but since he made it this far, he might as well do this properly. He spotted the closet to his left and slowly walked towards it. 

He opened the door and began his search for something to sleep in. The first drawer he opened was empty, the one directly below it was empty as well. He would shrug it off and think that he might just not have that many clothes if not for the fact that when he opened the next one, the clothes spilled out because there was not enough room for them. 

Why would he have two empty drawers if not all of his clothes comfortably fit in the other ones? He added it to the list of the things that didn’t make sense and put it in the back of his mind for later. There was no use in focusing on it now and something told him there was no use in asking anyone about it either. He briefly wondered if this had anything to do with Eddie, but quickly tossed away that thought. 

Eddie was a coworker, nothing else. It was made abundantly clear to him and he had to stop hoping for any other answer. Maybe he had an unrequited crush on him when he had all his memories. It wouldn’t be surprising. Eddie was the most beautiful man Buck has ever laid his eyes on. If that were the case, maybe it was better that he didn’t remember.