#every time you think about me i get more powerful
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rafecameronssl4t · 2 days ago
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Out of my league || Drew Starkey x fem!reader
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Summary: Fans have always speculated that Drew was dating someone until he confirmed it in an interview. After digging through Drew's socials, fans stumble upon you, a Yale law student.
Warnings: age gap (r is 23)
Word count: 515
A/n: my absolute dream to study law at Yale, Oxford or Edinburgh 😔😔
MASTERLIST
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"Omg!" Your eyebrows furrow as you stare at the message from your sister, her excitement practically radiating through the screen. Without hesitation, you tap on the link she attached. It directs you to a fresh, two-minute interview of your boyfriend, Drew, from the red carpet premiere of Queer. The video had been posted mere minutes ago, and your curiosity piqued as you hit play.
The clip begins with Drew stepping confidently into the spotlight, his tailored black suit fitting him perfectly, exuding effortless charm. His neatly styled hair and sharp features gleamed under the intense glow of the camera flashes. Seeing him like this—a star in every sense of the word—made you pause, a proud smile spreading across your lips.
The interviewer, a charismatic host with a warm smile and infectious energy, introduces Drew before diving straight into the conversation. Her tone is laced with both admiration and curiosity. “Drew, you’ve been receiving such incredible praise for your performance in Queer. Tell us, how was the filming process? What was it like working on such a powerful project?”
Drew’s face lights up, his passion evident as he responds. “Oh, it was an amazing experience,” he begins, his deep, smooth voice carrying a sincerity that draws you in. “Getting the chance to work under Luca’s direction and alongside Daniel was an absolute honour. The cast and crew brought so much energy to the set—it really felt like a family by the end of it.”
He pauses briefly, a soft smile gracing his lips, before adding something that makes your breath catch. “What made it even more special was having my family visit during filming. And my girlfriend…” His eyes momentarily shift, a small but noticeable fondness in his expression. “She took some time off from university to spend a couple of months with me on set in Italy. That support meant the world to me.”
Your heart swells with warmth, a mix of pride and affection bubbling to the surface. Drew rarely spoke about his personal life publicly, but when he did, it was always with the kind of sincerity that made you feel like the luckiest person alive. Those two months in Italy had been unforgettable, the perfect escape from the stress of your law studies at Yale.
The interviewer lets out an audible gasp, clearly surprised by Drew’s candid revelation. “Wait, you have a girlfriend? This is definitely news to us.” Drew chuckles softly, nodding. “I do. She’s brilliant. Balancing law school while putting up with me can’t be easy and honestly, I think she's out of my league.” Drew chuckles. Who is this mystery woman? How could someone possibly be out of Drew’s league?
The mystery only fuels the frenzy, and it doesn’t take long for determined fans to track down your Instagram account. Your page, once a space where you documented your life, was now flooded with notifications. Followers pour in by the thousands, combing through your posts for any clue about your connection to Drew. Fans are both shocked and delighted. You’re not what they expected, but in the best way.
y/n_y/l/n just posted a story!
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y/n_y/l/n
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Liked by drewstarkey and 2,937 others
this months dump!
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yourfriendsusername: 😍😍
↘️ y/n_y/l/n: ily!!
yourfriendsusername: uh oh, ur getting famous…. remember me pls!
↘️ y/n_y/l/n: sorry, who are you 😂
user1: omg so this is Drew’s gf? SHES GORGEOUS
user2: damn she’s hella smart huh?
↘️ user3: DUH SHES IN YALE STUDYING LAW
user4: eh she’s mid
↘️ user5: studying law at one of the ivy league’s is far from being mid lol 😭
user6: she’s been posting him for so long now, how have we only just found this out 😂
user7: so she’s pretty, she’s smart, and she’s bagged Drew Starkey? Damn girl.
user8: now how has she done that
~
drewstarkey
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Liked by y/n_y/l/n, madelyncline, jonathandavissofficial and 9,208,102 others
yeah my gf is cooler than me.
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y/n_y/l/n: Alexa, play Brooklyn Baby by Lana Del Rey 😄
↘️ drewstarkey: volume up, Alexa!
madelyncline: she’s such a smart cookie 😝
↘️ y/n_y/l/n: come see me again gf 😔
↘️ madelyncline: yes ma’am!
jonathandavissofficial: ya’ll cute
↘️ drewstarkey: ur cute
↘️ y/n_y/l/n: what’s going on here?
user1: HE FINALLY POSTED HER!
user2: can’t wait for more gf appreciation posts 😆
user3: how has a uni student bagged Drew Starkey
user4: first pic. sleeping on the road tn.
↘️ y/n_y/l/n: pls don’t 🙏
↘️ user5: AHH SHE REPLIED TO U
↘️ user6: ur so lucky to call Drew ur man
↘️user7: nah, he’s acc my man
user8: as if we acc thought this majestic man was single 😭
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boopshoops · 2 days ago
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What your favorite TWST character says about you :)
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As a note before I begin: I saw one of these that shamed malleus and randomly even chenya enjoyers- (claimed that they were pick mes or something? 😭) so i wanted to make one that was more positive out of spite <3 make it more about the writing and why people appreciate the characters. Take each of these with a grain of salt i spose- also a lot of them share similar themes <3
(Aka fans who have different views or even blatantly incorrect views of characters will always exist everywhere, but insulting the entirety of a group solely for enjoying a character, many for different reasons, is probably not a great idea!
I get that sometimes people suck and thats understandable, but quit generalizing ok? Ok.
From a malleus enjoyer who just thinks hes a silly little guy and im tired of feeling like i have to defend myself bc he's my blorbo 😵‍💫)
Final note: i love unapologetically taking frustration and turning it into something that can make people smile 💕 also i blindly wrote this from 11pm-midnight :))) dividers by @/cafekitsune!
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Heartslabyul:
Riddle: you enjoy and/or relate to the idea of healing from the past. Working hard to improve oneself for the ones around you and yourself: creating a healthier environment where you can be happy
Trey: there is immense complexity in things that are seemingly mundane. Digging deeper and deeper to find something truly sweet and heart warming is your joy.
Cater: maybe you relate, or maybe you used to, or maybe parts of the connections made in the past/presence/future dont feel as deep as you truly want them to be. There is something beautiful about a desire for genuine human connection, but also peace in being alone. There is a safe space for you yet, just be patient. 💕
Deuce: you love drive and determination. An endless stubbornness that keeps one going against all odds. Against every person who tells someone they cant. You watch them get proven wrong, and its pure bliss.
Ace: you find the connection between people beyond words heartwarming: even the seemingly simple ones. The ability to have a connection with someone who can get up to some mischief, tease back and forth, yet be there when you need them to be one of the most valuable things.
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Savanaclaw:
Leona: Adversity over a lack of belief in oneself is a very difficult thing to overcome- yet it is very possible with the right crowd, the right amount of time, healing, and effort. You think someone's worth lies more than just within their title/job/appearance, but within the fact that they are able to stand back up and keep moving onward despite the odds. The hope for that change, and the ability to get out of bed in the morning on its own is strength.
Ruggie: Despite being through so much trauma at such a young age, recovery happens anyway. Its not perfect, at times the lessons learned are even rough. The survival tactics that once helped are now hard to ditch when theyre not needed anymore, but the ability to smile and joke and keep pushing onwards is something you value in life.
Jack: Self discipline can be both extremely useful as well as harmful in different ways. You find the way people can constantly strive to better themselves at what they love and/or morally to be highly admirable.
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Octavinelle:
Azul: People can be cruel. And sometimes that cruelty inspires cruelty. Sometimes its simply used as a way to move on and survive insecurities created from it. Its hard, its a fight, but those insecurities are part of what make people beautiful. They are nothing to be ashamed of, and even the many tactics and smart ways of learning to overcome cruelness can be beautiful too.
Jade: The mind is extremely powerful. Intelligence and knowledge are not the only important things, no. Using that intel to find entertainment in the surrounding world can be exhilarating. Finding and discovering new unknowns: learning their ins and outs until they're a part of you is something you can relate to.
Floyd: speaking of fun- you love what is essentially the written version of a roller coaster. Ups and downs, ins and outs. Every single twist and turn is exhilarating and new. Every different perspective provides new insight into a multitude of different things. You are along for the ride, and you are having a lovely time.
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Scarabia:
Jamil: self discovery can be very difficult after purposefully suppressing parts of one's self for a long time. Yet, the healing happens anyway (once again aha <3). People discover new parts of themselves, slowly becoming more comfortable not only with their environment, but how they react to it. The discovery is freedom, and freedom is bliss to you. New traits about oneself bloom like a flower: if not in the soil, then stubbornly in the cracks of cement. You gently take that bloom from the concrete and pot it, placing it gingerly in a beam of sunlight.
Kalim: Happiness isnt only sunshine to the one smiling, but to everyone else around them. It is delightfully infectious. However, happiness isnt a constant. You think emotions all emotions should be experienced rather than suppressed, because holding back sadness for the sake of others is a disservice to one's self. Discovering your own emotions, any range of them, is what makes people uniquely human. If anyone is holding those emotions back- hell, any part of them back, they need to be let out of the cage.
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Pomefiore:
Vil: "Beauty is on the inside" is a saying thats been around for a long time, but beauty comes in so many forms. It can come from the stubborn desire to improve one's self: to be kinder, to help those around you, to be good. However it is impossible to be perfect. At times, for some, this can be crushing. People are hurt unintentionally, natural frustration can brew, the wrong actions can be taken: and thats okay. You believe whats important is to pick yourself up and keep going. To err is to be human, and that is beautiful too.
Rook: Error is beautiful. Symmetry is beautiful. Asymmetry is beautiful. A crack in the side walk is beautiful. Small things are beautiful, big things are beautiful. The nurturing of something through endless care is beautiful. The undeniable traits and hobbies of every individual that make them unique are beautiful. You find the endless optimism in finding beauty to be, in itself, beautiful.
Epel: Sometimes people will view others in ways that they wish not to be perceived as. This isnt in our control, as much as we sometimes want it to be. All you can do i be unapologetically yourself. To be you to the utmost degree. To prove those who thought otherwise to be foolish. You find this strength to find value in yourself despite others opinions admirable.
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Ignihyde:
Idia: you have depression /j
Ok for real-
Life can be such a cunt. It can beat a person down, down, down and leave them vulnerable enough to fear it. To fear that beating, whenever it may next come. The anxiety of never knowing what or who will come next, or what one could lose. At times it feels more comforting to find a routine in solitude. But you know that the small things that give joy will wiggle their way in with time. The broken will meet people who love and care and find comfort in the companionship of healing, even from the little things: like a new story to read or game to play.
Ortho: You value unconditional support. Support through everything: the good, the bad, the just kind of okay. Knowing that someone can have ones back for every little thing- to be there solely because they care and wish the best for others- is something you look up to and maybe even wish to be for another.
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Diasomnia:
Malleus: god damn people can be so hard to read and understand. They are so complicated: they are books you have to pay attention to from start to finish. But once you reach the end, you have a deep seated appreciation for them, and for the ones who stuck around to read your book too. Even if it was just for a fleeting moment: it is a happy moment. As painful as temporary things can be, it is also what you think can make the relationships we love and have loved so valuable.
Lilia: there can be suffering everywhere. There is war. There is famine. But there are also endless new sights to see. New discoveries to be made to help those still going through famine and war. New ways to love and understand people you never thought you'd understand. The development and positive parts of humanity, even though at times it can look bleak, are ever present to you. You love the discovery: of places and of people.
Silver: you believe that there is solace in being your own individual, regardless of who you are bound by blood to. Being shaped my experiences, friends, hardships, and new places are what make a person who they are. You value finding roots in and making your own home.
Sebek: Dedication can be a hard thing to come by, but when it does it can grab someone by the reigns. Using every waking moment to cherish that thing, learn more about it, become better at something, and strive to better ones self can be very admirable to you. But, on the other hand, it also calls for the occasional rest.
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OTHER (just for ones I know well enough, sorry!)
Neige: You love kindness despite hardship. One can go through horrible things and still choose to be kind. The world could begin to end, and one could still choose to be kind, because it means everything.
Chenya: Curiosity fuels exploration. It fuels art. It fuels everything. It fuels excitement. It fuels friendships. It fuels medicine. It fuels life. Curiosity is endlessly fun, and you think that is very whimsical
Meleanor: Sacrifice for others can be tragic. Knowing what another person has given up for someone else, maybe even everything, is gut wrenching but undeniably a selfless love to you.
Crewel: There can be kindness in strictness. In teachings, there can be a parental guide. There can be someone who cares for you and undeniably wants you to succeed. They know that you can, so they push you towards it. You want this support.
Trein: Love surpasses time. When the ones we love are gone, the memories of them are still held close, with the love once given to them, we can show to others through advice and guidance that comes with time. You find comfort in that.
Crowley: People are flawed. We all know this, yet despite a persons flaws... however many there may be, there is still something hopeful and human about it. About having those flaws and persisting regardless. You may even like those flaws, and the unashamed desire to press on even with them on display.
Fellow/Ernesto: Live for yourself. This is what you desire. People are often caught up in material or monetary things. After all, we live in a world that required it to survive and even be respected. To throw away those views and simply live as you see fit: regardless as to whether you earn those things or not, is something you admire.
Rollo: Sometimes the attachment we have to those we lost can be painful. Regardless, that pain is proof that there was care and love. The things done for others, whether alive or dead, are done selflessly. Grief can fuel hatred, but it can also be caused by love. To unlearn hatred and learn to love again after the fear of loss is a natural human experience. It is a process you understand and admire those who take the time and strength needed to properly love again.
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Thank you for reading <3
Tags <3
@lowcallyfruity @skriblee-ksk @justm3di0cr3 @cecilebutcher @kitwasnothere
@techno-danger @thehollowwriter @distant-velleity @the-trinket-witch @scint1llat3
@beneathsakurashade @qsoap @twsted-canvas @prince-kallisto @kathxrat-01
@sillyslipperybananapeel @jadelover69 @tixdixl @twstinginthewind
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mika-no-sekai-blog · 10 hours ago
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Azriel x reader
Word count: +3400
Warnings: none (?)
Summary: When love becomes a painful burden and you can't stand it anymore, you decide to turn it into hate, avoiding its source at any cost. However, Azriel has enough and seeks you out.
When I wrote it in my head (late at night of course), it was perfect. But I forgot the exact wording😮‍💨 Now I'm not so sure about this. Also I bit changed the intended end to cut down the word count
Anyway, I hope you will enjoy it
Despite my resolve to not to look in that direction, my eyes darted to the dance floor again and again, pulled by power stronger than my will. Pain sharp like dagger carved deep into my heart as I watched Azriel dancing with some female whom he just met at bar. Their bodies seemed to be glued together as their hips swayed in the rhythm of the music, even their foreheads were touching. Female's arms wrapped around his strong shoulders and neck, sliding down and back up his biceps and chest only to once again return back to their start point, holding him close. Pulling him closer. He didn't seem to mind it though as his own hands travelled all over her body, squeezing soft flesh wrapped in tight mini-dress at times.
I felt bile rising in my throat and turned back to my drink, wishing it was something stronger than just mojito—something that would burn not only my throat, but also my heart with all the traitorous feelings. I wished I had never made that mistake and fallen in love with him. Things would be much easier.
We used to be friends, really close friends. However, ever since I realized I felt something more for him, my feelings kept deepening with every passing day to the point it physically hurt to even look at him. He didn't seem to feel the same way though, not noticing anything, and I was too scared of refusal and never confessed. After just few months I was so agonized that I couldn't even step out of my room without bursting into tears and that's when I decided to rather hate him than to suffer like that.
I started ignoring him, avoiding him at any cost, twisting everything into anger. I went so far as not even answering him when he directly spoke to me. It still hurt, but it was more manageable kind of pain than what I felt before. This was how I had lived for the last two years, working hard to build the wall of the hatred around my heart brick after brick, yet I had a long journey ahead of me.
I threw the straw on the table and knocked back half of my drink, trying to think about anything except of what was happening to my left. I was so focused that I noticed Cassian only when he tapped his glass to mine.
"What are we drinking to?"
"To fucked up life."
Cassian's guttural laughter was so loud that it even overbeat the pulsing bass of the music.
"To fucked up life then," he toasted and got his drink down in one gulp. He was in his element, beaming with excitement.
Rita's was full of all kinds of faeries as usual, the dance floor pulsed with life, bodies swaying, alcohol flowing. After the warm-up drinks, our group fell apart — some were at bar, some were dancing and some disappeared to who-knows-where. Cassian was the first one to mingle between the dancers. It was almost midnight, yet this was the very first time he stopped for a while. Well, stopped.. His body was somehow managing to keep moving along the music even while he was sitting.
He reached over the table, caressing my cheek, his expression softened. "You need to learn how to let go, doll."
"It's easier said than done," I sighed and straightened up to get away from his reach. I used to be quite touch starved person, enjoying every contact with persons dear to me, but lately I could hardly stand anyone in my close proximity.
His eyes narrowed at me for a second, but he said nothing and drumming fingers on the table turned to the dance floor. He bit on his bottom lip. Devilish smile spread on his face and he turned back to me.
"Then I'll help you."
"Help me with what exactly?" I frowned, already having bad feeling.
"To let go. Come!" He raised a brow, jerking his head toward that maze of bodies. "Come," he repeated, offering me his big hand when I didn't react.
Out of the corner of my eye, I gazed at the full dance floor. "No, never," I grimaced. "I'd rather die than to do that."
"Come! I promise you will have fun."
"I can't dance." All my friends knew that, including Cassian. I wasn't willing to dance even where nobody could see. That kind of activity simply wasn't up to my liking nor ability.
"I'll teach you."
"No."
"I'm not accepting no as an answer this time," he grinned, rounded the table and gripped both of my hands, pulling me with him. He was too strong. I followed him involuntarily, squeezing in between dancing bodies. He took me to the back where weren't so many faeries and we didn't have to jostle with others. Only then he let go of my hands. I immediately crossed them on my chest, feeling awkward.
"Relax," he pulled me closer, his hands on the small of my back. I pulled my lips into thin line, frowning. I didn't like this at all. "Just feel. Let the music lead you."
"The music leads me back to the table," I grunted to which he laughed.
"Just bit move that ass of yours. Like this." He gripped my hips, pulling on and pushing them to demonstrate the movement he wanted me to do.
"Geez, you are so stiff," he was laughing his ass off. The small amount of alcohol I drank finally kicked in. There was nothing funny on this, yet I couldn't help myself and giggled.
"That's it," he praised me when I did as he instructed. "Just like that."
When I got used to the motion, he let go of my hips and took a step back to have a better view. "And now add legs." He demonstrated several simple moves and I tried to mirror them. I felt like idiot.
"You are doing great. Don't stop." He again stepped closer and took me by waist. We danced together for a while, Cassian's mouth never closing — showering me with praise, stupid jokes and stories — and I really had fun just as he'd promised.
"That hardly can be called dance. Let me show you how to do it," a deep voice spoke somewhere behind me and shiver ran down my spine. My heart flipped at that sound and smile froze on my face. I knew that voice too well.
"As if you could dance any better," Cassian snorted, but he started retreating. I desperately grabbed fabric of sleeves on his forearms, wordlessly pleading with him to stay.
"Just have fun, doll," he shrugged and turned away, immediately finding another dance partner. I stared after him in disbelief, my back still to the newcomer. I felt him move, slowly circling me and I swallowed hard. I turned to the opposite side, determined to head back to our table, suddenly too thirsty.
Scarred hand grabbed my elbow, yanking me back and I was met with his broad chest. I didn't dare to look up.
"Not so fast, Y/N," Azriel mumbled and I wondered how it was possible that I heard him so clearly over the loud music.
"I don't dance," I retorted, pulling away. I didn't get far though, his strong arms keeping me at the place.
"I just saw you with Cassian. Just one dance. I'm not asking for too much."
No matter how desperately I searched for good reason to decline, any reason honestly, I found none. "Fine," I grunted at last.
For a while we danced and I moved as Cassian showed me, but I felt so uncomfortable.
"Try it like this," Azriel said, his hands moving to my hips.
"Don't touch me," I barked at him, my mind flooded with imagines of him touching that female not so long ago. "I don't even want to think about where your hands were before."
His body stiffened as if I slapped him and he fell out of rhythm. "I can assure you that I washed my hands properly."
He sounded hurt and I felt pang of pain in my chest. I realized the ambiguity of my own words. And because this was Azriel, he probably thought I meant his work which was quite sensitive topic for him. He didn't torture people because he enjoyed it, but because he had to—to protect this court, to protect his family.
Ignore it! I ordered myself, clenching teeth.
It took him a moment to recover. Just as we began dancing again, he keeping hands at his sides, the song ended, immediately followed by much slower one. A lot of faeries around left the dance floor. I took it as my call and followed the suit.
"Wait!" Azriel grabbed both of my hands. "We haven't even danced yet."
"But-," I stuttered.
"One song. Please."
It was that damn word please. He hardly ever used that word. He was always polite and perfect gentleman and everything, but it seemed he didn't have this word in his vocabulary. I could count on fingers of one hand how many times I heard him to say it in almost two centuries we knew each other.
"Just one song then."
"Yeah, just one," he agreed. His hands reached for my waist. "Can I?"
I just nodded, still feeling bad for unintentionally hurting him like that. He hesitated.
"You should put your hands here," he guided them to his shoulders, but I immediately let them fall to his biceps. I didn't want to hold on to him like that bitch. I inhaled sharply, surprised by the sudden strong wave of jealousy.
Hate. You aren't jealous. You hate him, I had to remind myself.
"That's also fine," he sighed, snapping me out of my spiralling thoughts. "Now you need to come a bit closer."
He gently pulled me to him. I made sure there was a wall of air between us, already sensing where he was heading. Unfortunately, I was so occupied by keeping him as far from me as possible that I didn't notice drunken faerie passing by. She dangerously swayed, unstable on her own feet, and shoved me from behind. Clumsy idiot as I was, I lost balance and once again ended up pressed to Azriel's chest. He was fast, his arms immediately wrapped around me, not letting me step away. Now our bodies were touching.. everywhere — hard parts pressing into soft ones.
I felt heat climbing up my neck, my ears already burning.
"Dance partners usually look each other in the eye," he muttered, amused. He had some guts to tease me.
My head snapped up in rush of disbelief and rage, my eyes met with honeyed hazel ones. Those warm orbs completely captivated me, imprisoned me in their depths and I couldn't look away anymore. All my thoughts vanished at once.
It was long since I properly looked at him, let alone so close up. He hadn't changed much. If anything, he was even more handsome than before.
Idiot! Stop thinking such shit! He isn't handsome. He's disgusting. Not so long ago he was touching some random female and now he's here, touching you with the same hands. He's promiscuous pig. Absolutely repulsive.
My chest heaved as I was fighting with myself, heart against mind. My heart pounded so hard it had an echo.
Wait! What a nonsense! Heart can't have echo, can it?
Just then I realized it wasn't some echo but a beat of another heart. It was Azriel's heart that hammered just as fast as mine and so strongly that I felt it through our connected bodies. And if I felt his, then he had to feel mine as well. At that thought panic started to creep up on me.
Azriel leaned down, so slowly. His warm breath fanned my face, our noses touching.
The song ended replaced by another and dance floor filled again. Azriel seemed to be too occupied and didn't even notice it, but I did. I shoved him away with all my strength.
He didn't expect it and wavered, his grip on me loosened. I jerked from his arms, recoiling. He reached for me.
"Y/N, wait.. Just one more-"
"No more dancing," I said, my voice so cold that I startled even myself. "You wanted one song and you got one. I'm done here."
I didn't wait for his reaction and showed him my back. I marched over to our table, emptied my glass in one go and even one shot that was left there. The alcohol burnt its way down my throat and I grimaced. I grabbed my things and without looking back or leaving a message to others, I left.
I stomped down the snowy road, hardly noticing the slippery ice under soles of my boots. Only once I got all the way down to the Sidra, I paused on one of the bridges, letting out an angry sigh. I drew the thick cloak closer, feeling the chill of winter night, and looked up at sky full of stars, my warm breath creating quickly disappearing puffs of steam. I was on verge of tears, angry, hurt and confused. What was that even about?
"Y/N, are you all right?"
Not again. I wanted to flee away, but his big hand blocked my way.
"Stop already running away from me!"
"Leave me alone!"
In the attempt to get away, I lost my footing on slippery stones. I would fall down into deadly cold waters if it wasn't for his strong arms that kept me upright.
"Please." There was that word again, this time even more desperate than the one before. "I can't do this anymore. Please, tell me what I've done that it made you this mad. I will apologise as many times as you wish. I'm willing to do anything to gain your forgiveness."
"I thought that when I leave you be, your anger will ease and you will eventually tell me what happened, but it's already so long and it's getting worse and worse," he continued when I just stood there, gazing down into dark waters of Sidra.
How was I supposed to tell him that he did nothing? That I was just stupidly in love with him and that I couldn't deal with my own feelings anymore? I couldn't possibly tell him that. So I was silent while cold tears rolled down my cheeks.
"I'm so desperate that I even tried to provoke you to no avail. I don't know what else to do to mend our relationship back to what it used to be. And I miss you.. so much. So please, tell me what happened, so I never again repeat the same mistakes."
He stepped closer, hugging me from behind. "Please." When he breathed out near my ear, shiver ran down my spine and my eyes closed. All strength, all fight left me and my shoulders slumped down. Azriel gently turned me around, so now I faced him. His warm hands cupped my wet and cold cheeks, his thumbs wiping tears away.
"Speak to me otherwise I-.." His voice was low, dangerously low.
"You what?" I whispered the words into silent night, needing to hear the answer.
"I.." Suddenly his face was so close that it was the only thing I saw, his breath hot on my face. My head, heart, lungs, whole my body shut down. I was just standing there, gaping, hypnotized by his sad eyes.
He waited until I inhaled and then his lips sealed over mine, his eyes holding my gaze. The kiss was slow, careful, hesitant.
I was stunned, my eyes the size of full moon above us. As the new sensation settled in, a firework boomed in my chest and I.. moaned.
He made a sound back in his throat that vibrated through whole his chest. Shutting his eyes closed, he unleashed, deepening the kiss. His lips, hard like stone and so soft at the same time, hungrily danced over mine, his tongue gently pushed into my mouth, looting and exploring.
Azriel tasted like an old whiskey Rhys poured me once from his precious collection. The rich spiced and woody taste was mixed with something sweet and delicious and I moaned again as I realised I tasted strawberries on his lips. My knees buckled and I clasped hands around his neck, my fingers tangling with strands of silky dark hair. He swallowed my moan and holding me upright, he pulled me even closer — as if it was possible — his fingers digging into my flesh.
His enormous wings wrapped around me, cutting off the rest of the world, wall of shadows protecting us from any prying eyes.
We kissed and kissed until my lungs began to burn with need for air. Yet I held on as long as I could, wanting this moment to last forever and only when I felt like I was going to faint, I slightly pushed against his shoulders. Reluctantly, his mouth released mine, but stayed close enough that I felt its every move. Both of us staggered weakly and he chuckled.
"Gods," he muttered under the breath, heaving heavily. "You taste better than I've imagined. I wanted to do this for so long."
I was still too dazed to think straight. I just knew that I was happy, my heart hammering into the ribcage so wildly as if it was trying to break through it. His lips travelled all over my face, leaving dozens of small pecks behind. As he calmed down, he hid his face in the crook of my neck, inhaling deeply, still holding me in an iron grip.
"Why are you angry with me?" His voice was muffled by fur of my cloak. Under my cheek pressed to his shoulder, I felt his pulse, strong and fast, just like mine. I inhaled his rich scent of early morning mist in the snowy mountains.
"I'm not angry, not really." My face burned with shame. I sounded pathetic even to myself, somehow defeated. My traitorous heart wanted to believe that this was real and that it would last, while my mind was screaming that it was only a short-lived dream.
He was silent for a while, most likely putting together pieces of a puzzle. Maybe it was my salvation that he was a spymaster with a brilliant mind. I didn't have to sink to the very bottom to voice aloud just how lame and stupid I was, saving me from the most shameful moments.
"Never - do you hear me? Never do that again. There's no need for such..." I thought it impossible yet his grip grew even firmer. He sighed heavily, pushing words through clenched teeth. "-ve you."
He muttered something, but I heard only the last part of it. What did he say? No matter what I filled in, nothing made a sense.
"What?" I whimpered, hardly holding my tears back.
Azriel inhaled deeply. "-ve you."
"I.. don't understand."
He straightened up, looking into my eyes, his face deep shade of crimson.
"I said, I love you." His voice was firm, but his wings around us trembled slightly, giving out just how nervous he was.
My eyes widened in disbelief. I certainly misheard. "Eh?"
"As you heard," he looked away shyly, his hands slowly falling down, releasing me. "I started to feel it shortly after we met, but it took me too long to recognize the feeling for what it is. I was full of myself, I should have noticed your pain much sooner. I'm so sorry, Y/N."
His words tore down the dam and the tears began freely flowing down my cheeks in streams. Years of the pain and suffering for nothing.
"You are really the worst. I hate you," I sobbed.
Azriel stiffened and then chuckled when I leaned in, hiding face on his chest. "Am I? You owe me chocolate for at least last two years. And that is not all. I believe you owe me one more thing."
"What do you mean?"
He licked his lips and biting on the bottom one, he slowly pulled me into another embrace. "When someone-.. No. When I confessed to you, you were supposed to answer something like 'I love you, too', don't you think?"
I hesitantly wrapped my arms around his waist and still sobbing retorted, "as if I could say such thing so easily."
His smile only grew. "Then I have to coax it out of you," he cooed and captured my lips in another sweet kiss and another and he kept kissing me until my heart healed, mending all the wounds of the past years.
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t-a-a-1 · 3 days ago
Text
More Than Meets The Eye
TFA Optimus! X F!Reader
6k
Summary: Being a rising journalist is difficult. Especially when you have to live a secret criminal life. Things get worst when you start to fall in love with your enemy, Optimus Prime, leader of the Autobots and hero of Detroit City.
You believe the feelings can't be mutual. Yet, he slowly starts to notice that you are more than meets the eye.
A/N: Lots of yearning. Jealously. Enemies to lovers?? You are a journalist who is also a criminal. Idk. Takes place between Season 1 and 2 of TFA.
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Chapter 1: Ride or Die
....
Detroit City could be ugly, nasty, unhygienic, gentrified and many other things.
But never boring.
Especially with robotic aliens patrolling the streets.
    Bots that you didn't trust fully nor liked very much.
Even more, that Optimus Prime that everyone seemed to like so much.
With his red and blue colors, his helm that looks like he is always wearing a cap and straight posture that was too authoritative for your liking.
    While everyone was excited, taking pictures of the Autobots, you were there to ask the real questions. Your job as a reporter was to tell the truth and that's what you plan to do by exposing the leader of the Autobots.
"Mr. Prime, I have a question for you."
    You raised your hand, not really sure if that matters but you wanted to keep being respectful.
"Oh, yes, how can I help you, ma'am?"
    Optimus sees you walk through the crowd of people and paparazzi. Press conferences weren't unknown to him. The citizens, the reporters, the speechless mayor and his assistant that probably did everything for him.
"I've done some research and Detroit's oil supply has plummeted since your arrival to Earth. This has created a tax increase for all of Detroit's citizens. How do you respond to this?"
"Well, we do need to eat to keep helping the city," Optimus bends down to be able to speak on the mic. "But we apologize for any inconvenience this may have caused."
"If you were sorry you and your team would have already found all  the fragments of the AllSpark and departed Earth."
"How do you know about–?"
    You didn't let him finish his question as you striked with another statement.
"But no, you and the Autobots are too focused on wasting Earth's resources and playing heroes to even think of recovering your world's most powerful energy source."
"What? No, we–"
    He keeps getting interrupted by you. Although he tries to keep his cool, he wasn't in the best of moods either. Each statement you were making was ticking off his clock.
"Without mentioning that you have been spotted entering nearby natural reservation islands without the proper permissions or documentation."
"Well, yes but I thought it was fine–"
"Why would it be fine?" You look up at him. Even when you weren't very fond of the alien robots, you had to admit that they were a spectacle to look at. But you quickly shook the thought away.  "Just because you are big and dangerous you think you are entitled to cross human law?"
"Look missy, I don't know what's your problem but–"
"My problem is that you are not answering my questions."
    There's a bit of laughter coming from behind Optimus. If he had been smart enough, he could've said something along the lines of 'you aren't asking any questions, you are just saying statements.' Instead, he lashes out on you, giving you the exact reaction you wanted.
"If only you gave me time, I would respond to them!" Seeing his mistake, Optimus stands away from the pod, clearly frustrated at the situation.  "You know what, we don't have the time for this."
    Smiling Autobots was the first thing he saw as soon as he turned to look at them. He ex-vents, not wanting to deal with it.
"Autobots, transform and roll out."
.
.
.
    The abandoned building had become their home. It was big enough to have rooms for everyone. Each catering for every bot's needs. But not even the vastness of the building could sparse the leader's rising annoyance. Walking from side to side of the hangar, looking down and with a servo on his chin, he questioned the previous interaction.
    He doesn't remember seeing you before. Either that or your existence wasn't important enough for his processor to remember.
"How did that lady know about the AllSpark?" Optimus keeps walking as Bumblebee and Sari play video games on the sofa. "We haven't told anyone about the fragments."
    Hearing something being dropped, Optimus quickly turns to look at the little girl who has taken long-term residence at their base.
"Sari?" Optimus questions, getting closer to her. "Is there anything you want to say?"
"Sorry, I thought yall were going to release that information to the public soon," she plays with her thumbs, moving them in a circle in between her hands. "So, I thought, why not sell the information to a reporter? Save you guys the time!"
"Why would you do that?"
    Bumblebee questions her, he didn't know about her actions either.
"Because I need the money! If I don't have money, I can't afford food. If I don't eat, I'll die!" Sari feels threatened, especially when she sees the rest of the bots gathering around her. "And all my credit cards have been frozen ever since my dad disappeared."
    It was as if everyone had a spoken agreement. Her explanation was a very good one. Feeling shy and maybe like a burden to them, she did what any little girl would. As best as she could with the current circumstances. No one was angry at her, just worried for what this could bring to the team.
"What else have you told her?"
    Prowl asks this time, sounding as calm as ever.
"Nothing, I promise!" Sari exclaimed. "Actually, ever since I told her about my situation, she never fails to send me some money in the mail."
"Probably to gain your trust so you could later tell her more information about us," Ratchet always assumed the worst of people. A trait that no one could blame. Being a war-veteran, distrusting others was the best for survival.
"I don't think so, she just sends money. No notes, no letters, nothing."
"Whatever the situation is, we can't have her spreading misinformation about us," Bulkhead is the last to speak his mind.
"She wasn't lying, bulkhead," Optimus remembers your statements. Each of them had truth in them. "She was right. We did everything she said we did."
    As much as he wanted to reprimand the little girl, he couldn't do it. Instead he takes a few seconds to think.
"But we can't have her writing negative articles about us," he says as he takes a moment to look at his very little friend. "Especially if we plan to ask for some monetary compensation for Sari."
    He really didn't want to ask for any kind of payment from the humans. Everything he did, he did in the name of goodness and to further improve Cybertronian-Human diplomatic relationships. But Sari was part of the team and his duty as leader was to take care of everyone. And she was a helpless little girl. He needs to take care of her properly and for that he needs human currency. Not much, just whatever is needed for a human to survive. Food, maybe clothes? Water. Oxygen? Medication ... Education? Did she need that? He is not sure but maybe Sari could make him a list later.
For now, there is a reporter he needs to find.
.
.
.
    You weren't new to doing undercover work. You enjoyed it, pretending to be someone else, getting the information you needed, then going home as if you had lived another life.
    Tonight, it was one of those nights. Where you wore heels, a skirt and a revealing top. Loose hair and lip gloss and a wing to cover your real hair color.
    During the day you were a reporter. Tonight you were a car enthusiast.
"So, would you take me?"
"A beautiful car needs a beautiful woman,"
    You had been talking with a man for fifteen minutes. It's stupid how easy it was to get a man. Just listening to them talk for ten minutes straight without talking usually does the trick.
"And you know, racing is not the only thing I am good at."
    Smiling, not because of his suggestive comment but because you were about to get what you wanted, you were about to make your way inside the car.
    Until bright lights pointing at you ruined the moment.
"What does that freak want?"
    There is a loud sound of engine coming from the large truck. Although the light was bright, you could see a few shades of blue and red.
"This is the police, stand down."
"Shit."
    The man who you were talking to didn't hesitate to turn on his car and speed up. Letting off a train of fumes and leaving you behind.
    Great, now you had to explain that you weren't a hooker but an undercover reporter to the officer.
    Except that this wasn't a cop. It wasn't even a person. But a driverless car. A bot you tragically knew too well.
"So you have come for your revenge after today's press conference?" you ask sarcastically as you begin to walk away. You raised your hand and waved from side to side."Well, you got it. Now leave me alone."
    You can hear the little 'click and clack' of your heels as they impact against the concrete ground. But close by you can still hear the roaring engines. Headlights were still pretty bright and you wondered if he understood human cues. Because this just looks like some guy harassing a woman.
"Not even a 'thank you' for saving you from that guy?" Optimus follows as he drives next to you. "I thought you would be more educated."
"Well, I didn't ask you to save me," you wanted to take bigger steps but you've been walking for so long with your heels that you can't do it anymore. "Is butting into other people's business an Autobot costume?"
"Look I am not going to fall into your tactics," he says. "I just came to say that I think we started off with the wrong pede."
"Oh? Really? Why do you think that?"
"Well, for starters, I think you have the wrong ideas about us," Optimus takes a closer look at you. Wearing a different style than what you wore this morning. "Yes you are right, sometimes we don't do the right thing. But we are new here and we don't know any better."
"So you should be excused for all actions just because of your ignorance?" you feel like you are being observed. Not in a desirable manner but rather a curious one. Optimus didn't have 'eyes' but optics. His vision is probably more enhanced, being a bot and all.  "Is that what you are saying?"
"No, I am saying that maybe you could try and understand us and be more ... lenient whenever you write about us."
"And why would I do that?" you began to feel self conscious. Miniskirts weren't your thing, you liked them but Optimus heavy optics on you wasn't the most comfortable. Maybe it was all your imagination. Besides, you doubted that Optimus could feel attraction towards a human. "Are you going to hurt me if I don't?"
"What? No!"
    You stop walking and suddenly turn to look at him.
"Then I won't change anything."
    He doesn't want to think about it too much but he feels his something inside him short-circuit. Now, he realized he had been staring at you for too long. Particularly interested in your skin. As far as he knows metal and skin don't react the same way to cold. Your material being more sensitive to climate change. He was studying you and all he concluded is that you were cold.
"Why do you care so much about what we do and don't? How does it even affect you?" his engines roar louder.  "We help the humans with crime, cleaning the streets, repairing buildings and other humiliating things without any type of compensation but I don't see you writing about that stuff!"
"Do you know what happens when you and your crew destroy a building?"
"The city repairs it."
"Yes, they do," you walk towards him, aggressively placing your hands on his door. His truck form was too large for you to reach his window. It's not like you were planning to punch him but rather make your point. "But who's money do they use to repair those damages?"
    He stays quiet and you proceed.
"The people's money," using your index finger, you keep poking at him each time you make a statement. "Ever since you and your Autobots got here, things have become way more expensive. Food, gas, bills. There are families who will be homeless because they can't afford to pay rent. All because the city is raising taxes to pay for all the damages you cause."
    His headlights blink every time you keep touching him, with every word that escapes your lips.
"It's already hard enough being a journalist in Detroit and now I have to focus on surviving too. I need to contribute good stories to the newsroom or I won't even have money to buy cigarettes."
    Then, you point off into the distance, the road is clear but dark. Only the city lights illuminated the path but everything had an eerie feel to it .
"And that guy you just scared off? He was my ticket to have a warm meal tonight and you ruined it for me."
    You take your hands off him. His headlights stop blinking.
"So, I am sorry. I am sorry I won't write about how the Autobots are Detroit's heroes and how good they are because they pick up some cans."
    You walk away. Now thinking of whether to spend your last $20 bucks on food or a taxi to take you home.
    At least you can't hear the roaring engine anymore.
As he sees you struggle to keep walking, Optimus notices your shivering. How you tried to cover your backside with your bag and how ever so often your stomach would quietly growl. Although he wasn't an expert on human biology, he knew that meant you were hungry.
    He remembers your words and then Sari's. Although you were struggling to survive, you still somehow managed to help out Sari. A job he is supposed to be doing but failing miserably.
"I– " he drives up to you again. For a second, he doesn't have anything to say. Apologizing won't help you in any way. "Is there any way I can help?"
"Well, unless you can transform into a racing car and take me to do some illegal car racing, I don't think so."
    Behind you, you hear metal shifting. Driving next to you is blue and red ... Corvette? Camaro? Ferrari? You didn't know a single thing about cars but the only thing you knew is that it was a nice looking car. Dynamic, elegant and shiny. Hot and sexy. And a beautiful car needs a beautiful girl.
"Anything else?"
.
.
.
    It was 3 a.m.
A dark and isolated road on the outskirts of Detroit will be witness to your first car racing. You didn't know a single thing about cars and much less racing. But thankfully for you, your racer is a car. He should know better ... right?
    As a reporter you are supposed to blend in with the crow but with Optimus, you knew that was impossible. All eyes were on you as soon as you drove by the starting line. Wondering who had just joined the car racing scene.
"Everyone is here ... Can't we just arrest them?"
"No, I am not the police.  I am just here to report on things. To inform people this is happening."
You look around the vehicle, there was technology that Earth didn't have. There wasn't a single thing you could understand. Getting nervous, you tried to get some fresh air. Clicking a few random buttons, you hear Optimus make a few displeased growls.
"Would you stop that? You know you are touching my body, right?"
    You quickly stop, not knowing how to feel about being inside a mechanic alien.
"Can you lower the windows then? I am starting to feel a little claustrophobic."
    Optimus does as you told him and now you get a clearer view of your sides. To your right there is a white Camaro with black racing stripes. To your left, a red and white car. The fancy type which brand you didn't know nor care.
"Hey beautiful, when I win let's make out in the back of my car!"
    Hearing that comment, you tell Optimus to roll up the windows again. He quickly didn't hesitate to ask questions.
"What is make out?"
    You see another woman stand in front of the car. Holding a red handkerchief. Extremely beautiful and thin, she made walking in heels look easy. The cars start their engines and you start regretting this.
"If we win this, I'll show you."
"What do we get if we win anyway?"
    Looking at the steering wheel, you think about holding it but then again Optimus seems very decided for you not to touch him. Not wanting to make him uncomfortable, you shake the thought off your head.
"I get a good story and three thousand dollars."
"Can I have some of that money? For Sari, of course."
"Absolutely but," you look around the car, trying to look for the seatbelt. The race was about to start and you couldn't find it. "Where is the seat-"
    But the race had started, Optimus didn't listen as he sped though the road. You abruptly lay back on the seat. Making mental notes about the situation. The racers, the rules, the cars, the place.
You wished you could enjoy the excitement of the race ... if it only wasn't that your life was held by a threat.
As Optimus makes an abrupt turn, you move from one seat to the other. Almost doing a complete 360.    
"Would you care to drive more carefully?!"
    You rub your head. Feeling like a small bump on the back, you are thankful the windows are tinted dark. No one can see your humiliating falling and bumping into Optimus windows and door.
"Don't you want to win, missy?"
"I can only win if I get to the finishing line ALIVE!"
    As if he wasn't hearing you, he makes another aggressive movement. This time you end up side down, with your head on the feet rest and your legs on the passenger seat.
"THAT'S IT! I AM DRIVING!"
    You straighten up and quickly put your hands on the steering wheel, taking control of the alien mech.
"Hey, missy! Hands off the steering wheel!!"
"I'll do that when you learn how to drive!"
    You fought against his strength, as he moved himself to the opposite side. It wasn't often that you fought against an alien but if your life wasn't in danger you wouldn't do so. Watching all the cars passing by was also alarming, you weren't only going to die but also lose.
"I'll have you know my driving skills have been renowned by the Elite Guard!"
"I don't give a f–"
    He lost control, as you did. The screeching tires against the pavement could be heard as the rubber of them burned. You couldn't react as Optimus crashes against a pine tree. Hitting your head against the steering wheel, you thought you might get a concussion. However, you get enough strength to get out of the car and walk a few meters away from him. It wasn't until all the racing cars had passed you that Optimus transformed back to his robot form.
"I just got a new paint job and a polish!"
    He says as he sees some scratches on his body.
"And you almost killed me!" you put a hand on your head, it hurts as if your whole brain was pulsating. Your sight is dizzy and your body is weak. "I knew it, I knew this wouldn't work out and I still trusted you."
"We wouldn't be here if you had only kept your hands to yourself."
"No, we wouldn't be here if only you had a goddamn seatbelt?!"
    Optimus was also frustrated with the situation. Now he is too far behind to win the race and he needed the money to buy food for Sari. Not only that but after tonight he is going to have to give explanations to the rest of his team. He is probably gonna be made fun of for not having a 'leader-behavior' and they were right. Because why was he here? At first, he just wanted to help you. But it seems you don't want to nor appreciate his effort.
"And why would I? I don't let humans inside me," he points at you, unaware of your delicate state.  "Besides it's not my fault your body is so weak."
"Well, for someone who is supposed to protect life, you certainly do a great," there is clear sarcasm in your voice. You probably shouldn't be fighting against a giant robot but if he were to squish you right now, he would be doing you a favor.
"I don't even know why you are on Earth if you don't even like humans."
"Oh, I like humans, I just don't like you."
"Well, the feeling is mutual."
    You take off your heels and start walking back on the cold pavement. Feeling cold everywhere, you wonder what is going to kill you first. Hypothermia or brain damage.
"Where are you going?"
"Home."
"We are on the outskirts of the city, you'll get home by the next solar cycle if you walk."
    As much as Optimus dislikes you, he wouldn't let a lady walk alone at night.
"Let me take you home."
"No," now it hurts to breathe. You probably got a few injuries but you tried to hide the pain. The last thing you wanted was to confirm Prime's idea that you were weak. You were, but he didn't have to know. "Just leave me alone."
"Does your pride have no end?" Optimus' words weren't helping either. "Just come inside–"
    He was going to keep talking until he noticed that you had stopped walking. He sees you put a hand on your head and the other on your stomach.
    Suddenly, you lose balance and he quickly reaches a servo out to catch you. He had assumed that most humans should be warm. The coldness of your body was not common. Analyzing you, he sees that you are still breathing but unconscious. You are small on his servo and he feels as though he needs to cover you.
Maybe, you were right ... he should have let you drive.
.
.
.
    There were many questions in Ratchet's processor. But seeing Optimus' worried face restrained his voice box from instigating the Prime.
"I am not an expert in human biology but my analysis says that she is dehydrated and malnourished. She probably hasn't eaten in days."
    Ratchet sees you in the medical berth. In a deep sleep and weakend, he doesn't know when you will wake up.
"Don't you think it would have been better to take her to a human medical center?"
"I thought about it but while I was driving, she woke up momentarily and asked me not to take her there."
    Optimus had assumed that the reason you didn't want to go to a 'hospital' was due that maybe you didn't have a means to pay for it. The thought alone made him spark ache, he didn't understand why humans would charge for a basic right.
"Well then, make yourself useful and bring her some warm human fuel," Ratchet says. "And maybe some human clothes with more fabric or a blanket."
    Optimus nods, but there is hesitancy. He doesn't move and Ratchet catches on this. His optics are on you as if studying you. Most obvious, there is guilt and worry. He takes a closer look at him. Some part of his paint was ripped off and his metal was scratched.
"Did anything of importance happen?"
"I tried to help her with something but things didn't occur as I planned them."
    There was something he was keeping to himself.
"Did anything else happen?"
"It's just ...," he pauses and the longer he looks at you, the more Ratchet wonders. He has known the boy for some time now. He has seen him at his best and at his worst but this is different. It's like he wants to say or do  something but he can't. Either because he is too timid or because he can't find the right words. But Optimus' eloquence was known through all of Cybertron.
"It's nothing."
.
.
.
    The smell of chicken noodle soup wakes up. It is an unknown place but you feel warm. Much more than your cold, small apartment. It was a bright room, and underneath was a red, giant medical bed. A white blanket covers your body and the face of a little girl stares right at you.
"Hi!"
    You slowly stand up, your head still hurting but at least you were alive.
"Hey, kid."
    You take a better look at the place around you. At least it wasn't a hospital and for that you were thankful.
"I am Sari! And you must be (Y/N)? We exchanged Autobot information before?"
    The girl was smiling, excited to see you. By hearing her name, you immediately knew what she was referring to. A few weeks ago, you had received a letter from someone, you assumed that it was a kid due to the wacky handwriting and simple vocabulary. Nonetheless, this kid was selling Autobot information to you, some things valuable, others not so much. After learning the truth behind the kid, you decided to help her as much as you could.
"I am guessing this is the secret base of the Autobots?"
    You ask the obvious. You didn't find any other logical explanation as to why there would be such big beds and medical equipment.
"Yeah ... Please, don't tell anyone," Sari says. "Or Optimus is gonna have to threaten you."
"Well, I would like to see him try," you give the little girl a head pat. "But I promise I won't say a word, just because you ask me to."
    This would have been valuable information if it wasn't due that it didn't matter anymore. You were supposed to have a story by today and the only thing you have is a headache. Another day, another non-existent payment. You are gonna have to get used to eating air at this point.
"You should eat," Sari puts the bowl of soup closer to you. "Optimus made it for you and I helped, of course."
    After hearing his name, you quickly turn to look at the little girl. You could tell she was telling the truth but she also had a mischievous smile.
"Is there something you want to ask me?"   
    You weren't about to make a meal go to waste. Picking up the spoon, you start to dig in. It wasn't bad and you wonder if Optimus actually helped at all because you can't imagine someone who is unable to taste human food, being able to make something this good.
"Well, I was wondering ... Will you be staying with us from now on?"
"No," you simply say, too concentrated in eating to think properly. "Why are you asking that?"
"Well, do you want to?"
"Thanks for the offer but I don't think the Autobots would like me here."
"But I can get so lonely sometimes!" Sari puts puppy eyes on her face and you have to admit that it was slowly working. "I need a friend."
"You can still write to me if you would like."
"That's not enough ..."
    Suddenly, you heard loud and big steps approaching from behind you. You didn't want to think about it. If you don't see it, it's not real. But then you hear mechanics moving and you are sure that if you were to turn around, you'll find a very unpleasant faceplate.
"Sari, do not overwhelm our guests," Optimus says. "She's still recovering."
"Don't mind me, I was just leaving."
    Like an animal, you drink the last of your soup and put it next to you.
"Hey um ... About last night, I ..." He pauses and struggles with his words. "I wanted to apologize–"
"No need."
    You stand up and let the white blanket covering you slip off your body. It gets cold immediately and you are tempted to ask if you can stay with the blanket.
"Wait! If you really need to, you can stay here,"
"And become your charity project? No, thank you."
    His faceplate was still very close to yours. Now you can take a closer look at his optics.  You didn't want to admit it but they were quite beautiful. A type of blue not found on Earth. Maybe not even in the entire universe. It was unique to him and you were a bit jealous of his own individuality.
"I am just trying to help."
"I think you have helped enough," you weren't about to fall for his kindness. It was his own stubbornness that put you in this situation. That and that you haven't taken care of yourself properly but he doesn't have to know that. "If I let you help me again, then I'll for sure die."
"If only you would put your pride away, we could help each other–"
"You want to help me? Why? Because you like me? Or to subside your guilt?"
"Because it's the right thing to do."
"The right thing to do?"  You can't stand his righteousness. Pretending to be this all-good creature when you know that can't be. How good can he be when he is the cause of your misfortunes? Not only yours but to a lot of more people. The worst part of it all is that he doesn't seem to want to do anything about it. "Why don't you start by leaving my planet first then?"
    Optimus stares at you and you look back at him. It was a few seconds but to you it lasted minutes.
    He doesn't say anything but slowly moves apart from you and walks away.
You turn to look at Sari who was still sitting close by.
"Sorry you had to see that kid."
"It's alright, but can I tell you something?"
    You didn't want to be here. The sun was probably about to rise and you just wanted to go home. But you couldn't say no to the girl, she seemed too sweet and her situation was still lamentable. You nod, confirming for Sari to continue.
"I've known Optimus for a time now and I can tell you that he is not very well-versed with the ladies," she says.  "He rescued a woman once and she asked for his phone number."
    Tilting you heard, a lot of things crossed your mind. You have so many questions, especially about the kind of woman who would want a machine as something more than a friend.
"And what happened?"
"He gave it to her and she texted him," she raised a small hand, pointing up. "The text said 'Do you think I am pretty?"
"And Optimus texted back saying 'I think you look soft and squeezable. And she never texted back."
    You stopped yourself from laughing. Although a small smile left your lips. You look away for a second and then look back at the young girl.
"Optimus is good at hiding his feelings but you can tell he was sad she never texted him back."
"Why are you telling me this?"
    You finally ask, curious about the story but mostly about Sari's intentions.
"Just so you know that he can be an idiot sometimes but he has a good heart ... Well, spark," Sari's voice becomes more gentle and this caught your attention. This wasn't supposed to be a funny story and now you feel a bit shameful for laughing.
"And I think he just doesn't know how to tell you that."
.
.
.
The sun was starting to come out.
You took off your heels for a little bit until the cold pavement was too much to handle for your skin.
    You weren't expecting for things to go this way. Wanting to start a new life, away from everything. It was all going smoothly until they arrived. Now you find yourself on a bench, cold and hungry. Waiting for the first bus to take you home.
How much longer did you have to endure?
    You cover your face, ashamed of yourself. Of every decision you have made in your life. This is your reality now. About to be kicked out of your apartment, without a stable job and nowhere to go. No one to talk to.
Your cellphone rings.
    Not recognizing the phone number on the screen, you were hesitant to answer but lastly, you picked it up, things can't get worse anyways.
"It was harder to get a hold of you than I thought."
You recognized that voice.
"But I am glad you are doing fine. How's the city life treating you?"
"How did you find me?"
    You ask as you look around you. No one was out yet. Just a few cars passed by and the tweets of birds could be heard.
"That doesn't matter. I called thinking you may be interested in a job."
"I am not. No matter what you say, I won't go back there."
"Are you sure? I can send you over the first half of the payment right now."
You were in desperate need. He knows that and is taking advantage of that. Your instincts  were begging you to say yes. To just do one more job, to get enough food to survive for a little while until you can get back on your feet. But ...
"I appreciate the offer. But I have to decline."
    There is a long pause.
"We'll keep in touch."
.
.
.
"Still thinking about that woman?"
    When Ratchet says things like that, it's difficult not to notice the subtle hits in his voice box.
"Perhaps."
    Ratchet can tell many things from the Prime's actions. He wasn't drinking his fuel and in deep thought. At least he wasn't denying the question.
"I am sure you'll see her again," Ratchet says as he pat's Optimus' shoulder plate. "Next time ask for her number."
"It's not like that."
    His cheeks have a slight blue. Very minimal but Ratchet knows better than that.
It was a lively evening in the Autobot's base. With Bumblebee and Sari playing video games while Prowl and Bulkhead stand next to them. Optimus and Ratchet usually watch from the sidelines, never participating but just treasuring the tranquility of the moment.
"If it's not that then what is it?"
"I just ..."
    Optimus hesitates not because he didn't want to tell Ratchet but because he couldn't understand his own feelings. Was it guilt? Curiosity? It's strange and yet both emotions are something he wishes to not feel. He should be worrying about the things he can fix, people he can help.
He shouldn't think about you.
About yesterday night. About the drive back to the base. You laid on his seat, unconscious. Yet you mustered the strength to say three simple words.
"Don't leave me."
And just like that. His spark ached.
Damn you.
    He doesn't have time for this. For all he cares, he hopes to never see you again.
Because how dare you play with his feelings like that?
"I'm going for a drive."
    There was nothing else to do but ride or die.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
A/N: Here is a new story I am working on. It was really fun to write this. Thank you for all the support you have given me this far! I'll continue to write. For any ideas, comments, concerns, comments you can always message me/or inbox me here. Thank you. Also sorry for any mistakes I made. I don't proof read. Regardless, I hope you enjoy and I'll be answering comments soon!
See you in the next story!
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woozinhos · 2 days ago
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Hii! I hope your doing well! Can you do a s.coups sugar daddy headcannon with a dash of smut? If it's uncomfortable to write please do not do it! Thank you so much! 🫶🏻
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Sugar Daddy Cheol
- Seungcheol loves to take control in the bedroom. He's a dominant lover who knows exactly how to drive you wild with desire. He loves to tie you up and tease you until you're begging for more.
- Seungcheol has a secret kink that he's never told anyone about. He loves to be called "Daddy" in bed. The word makes him feel powerful and dominant, and he gets off on the idea of taking care of his sugar baby in every way possible.
- Whenever Seungcheol is stressed out or feeling overwhelmed, he turns to you for comfort. He loves to lie on your lap and let you play with his hair, feeling safe and relaxed in your arms.
- One day, Seungcheol decides to surprise you with a trip to a luxurious hotel for the weekend. He wants to pamper you and show you just how much he appreciates you.
As soon as you arrive at the hotel, Seungcheol scoops you up in his arms and carries you to the bedroom. He lays you down on the plush bed and begins to undress you slowly, savoring every moment of your naked body beneath him.
"You're so beautiful," he whispers in your ear, his hands roaming over your curves. "And all mine."
Seungcheol's eyes darken with desire as he gazes down at you, completely exposed and vulnerable beneath him. He runs his hands over your body, tracing every curve and dip with his fingertips.
"You have no idea how much I've been thinking about this," he growls, his voice low and husky. "How much I've been dreaming of having you all to myself."
He leans down and captures your lips in a searing kiss, his tongue plunging deep into your mouth as he devours you. He breaks the kiss, panting heavily, and trails kisses down your neck, nipping and biting at the sensitive skin.
"I'm going to make you feel so good," he promises, his hands roaming lower and lower down your body. "I'm going to make you forget everything but me."
He reaches down and grabs your wrists, pinning them above your head as he hovers over you. "You're mine tonight," he growls, his eyes dark with possessiveness. "And I'm going to claim every inch of you."
-However there’s other times where he becomes jealous it’s so hot
Seungcheol couldn't help but feel a pang of jealousy as he watched you interact with one of his colleagues. The way the man laughed at your jokes, touched your arm, and smiled at you made his blood boil. He knew he had no right to feel jealous - you were his sugar baby, not his girlfriend. But seeing you with another man still stung.
Later that night, Seungcheol was sitting in his office, trying to focus on his work, but his mind kept wandering back to you and the man from earlier. He couldn't shake the feeling of possessiveness that had taken over him. He wanted to mark you as his own, to show everyone that you belonged to him and only him. The thought consumed him, driving him wild with desire.
He stood up abruptly, unable to focus any longer, and walked out of his office. He needed to see you, needed to remind himself that you were his. Seungcheol stormed into your apartment, his eyes blazing with a mix of desire and possessiveness. He saw you sitting on the couch, scrolling through your phone, and his heart skipped a beat.
"Baby," he growled, his voice low and rough. "We need to talk."
You looked up at him, startled by the intensity in his eyes. "What's wrong?" you asked, sensing that something was off. Seungcheol didn't answer right away. Instead, he stalked over to you, his eyes never leaving yours. He stood in front of you, towering over you, and pulled you up into his arms.
"You're mine," he said, his voice firm and possessive. "No one else's. Do you understand?"
You nodded, feeling a shiver run down your spine at the intensity in his voice. You had never seen him like this before - so possessive and dominant.
Seungcheol's grip on you tightened as he pulled you closer to him. "I don't want to see you with anyone else," he growled, his lips hovering over your ear. "Ever."
You could feel his breath hot against your skin, sending shivers of desire through your body. You knew that you were in trouble - but you also knew that you loved it.
"Say it," he commanded, his voice low and rough. "Tell me that you're mine."
"I'm yours," you whispered, your voice barely above a whisper. "Only yours."
Seungcheol's eyes darkened with desire at your words, and he pulled you even closer to him, crushing you against his chest.
"Good girl," he growled, his hands roaming over your body possessively. "You belong to me, and only me. I don't want to share you with anyone."
He kissed you fiercely, his tongue plundering your mouth as he claimed you as his own. You melted into his embrace, completely surrendering to his dominance. Seungcheol lifted you up and carried you with a predatory gleam in his eyes. "I'm going to remind you who you belong to," he promised, his voice thick with desire.
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gay-jesus-probably · 2 days ago
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Bluntly, there is no universally useful method for getting a job. Some companies use AI to do a shitty job of sorting applications. Other companies go for a multi-step interview process. And some places are just looking to hire anyone that can do the job and will show up, nothing else required - I got my current job from basically just a two minute interview at their hiring fair, never even gave them a resume. Every workplace is different.
That said, there is some near universal advice that makes the whole process easier:
Don't use a gimmick. Absolutely terrible idea. Trying to make yourself stand out in some weird way will NEVER go over well; most of the time it'll land you straight in the reject pile. Don't try to get too chummy with the interviewer, don't send gifts, don't try to make your resume/cover letter more exciting or anything. Just apply for the damn job. Trying to use some stupid gimmick just implies that you don't think you can get the job on your own merits, or at the very least you think the company you're applying to cares more about flashy bullshit than actual competency.
Follow the application process. That sounds obvious, but by 'follow the process', I mean give them the information they want, in the method they want it, and DO NOTHING ELSE. For example, if none of the jobs you're applying to are asking to see a personal website portfolio of you, and you are stubbornly attaching your website portfolio to every single resume anyways, then getting angry and bitter that nobody ever clicks on it and you never get interviews... yeah, that may be part of the problem. All the relevant information should already be in your resume, so the website portfolio will just be filled with irrelevant bullshit. Unless you're applying for a job that specifically wants a portfolio, don't try and submit a portfolio.
Remember that the hiring process goes both ways. Your potential employers do NOT have all the power here. You're interviewing them too! And if the hiring process is an absolute nightmare... that's not a good sign for the work environment. If applying for a job is a miserable slog, you can just... decide these aren't people you'd ever want to work for and nope right out of there. Don't get me wrong, I realize that's not always a practical option, but just remembering that the option is there really helps for managing the stress of the whole process. Like mustapha--dance said up there, companies that are hiring need people to do that work! You have something they want! You're not powerless in this situation!
Anyways, if you want some more specific and detailed advice on getting hired, this blog has talked a fair amount about all of this and gives some extremely solid advice (and has also talked a lot about the bad advice that's floating around out there, such as the awful website portfolio thing).
Hey kid you want a job?
Great get online and go to a job board. Indeed, Linkedin whatever. Now you're gonna search for a role that's in your city, fits your qualifications, and doesn't seem like a bad time.
See that easy apply button? Don't hit it they just throw those in the trash. Now you're gonna want to go to the company's website and check their careers page.
Oh? That job doesn't exist anymore. Cool go back to the job board and find another one.
Great you found another job, you're on the company's career page and the job exists!! So you're going to need to make an account on the career page website. They're using Workday, the same site as the last job you applied for? Who cares? You need to make another account for THIS job's workday page.
Now you're going to upload your resume. That'll autopopulate about 15 boxes with everything on your resume, except formatted wrong and with tons of errors. So just go through and painstakingly check the dates on all of that and rewrite everything you already laid out in an aesthetically pleasing format on your resume.
Ok time for the cover letter, explain why this specific job and company are deeply important to you. You love their mission statement and wouldn't even laugh if their ceo was gunned down in the street. You'll really want to reiterate the things you just spent the last 20 minutes filling out on the resume section
(Remember to include language from the job description, people who work in HR are lower than dogs and they need patterns or they get confused.) Write about a page, but hey don't sound too desperate or robotic this is where they judge your character!
Maybe add your portfolio site at the end here, who knows if that helps no one has ever clicked mine haha.
Anywayyy time to hit apply! Congrats! You'll see that confirmation email come in and you should be getting the rejection letter in about 2 weeks. Unfortunately your resume didn't have the right buzzwords and the AI auto rejected you :(
Time to start again and try not to kill yourself!
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writing-zelda-brainrots · 3 days ago
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Listen. Re:Zero is my favourite anime. Let me just yap about this for a minute.
One idea that I keep finding myself returning to when thinking about Linked Universe fanfics is the idea of [Name] having Return by Death from Re:Zero. I have many thoughts.
For those of you unfamiliar with the series, Return by Death is Subaru’s ability to return to a specific, predetermined point in time every time he dies. The user of this ability cannot change or choose where these ‘savepoints’ are, they change automatically at seemingly random (basically, think of them as the world ‘autosaving’ from time to time).
The user of RbD cannot tell anyone about this power, as the one in control of this authority can punish the user by squeezing their heart (basically giving them a heart attack) or by killing the person the user was talking to. Though it is important to note that this restriction goes for telling about RbD directly, so if the user speaks about it indirectly (for example in riddles/confusing metaphors) or if the listener does not understand/think much of the user's mutterings/ramblings, the curse will not take effect.
The user of RbD is almost always marked with a stench of ‘evil’ that makes them irresistible to monsters, leading them to lock onto and attack the user. Though the smell is mostly faint (not even noticeable to most people) a majority of the time, it becomes stronger when RbD or the curse activates. So, the more recent the death or punishment, the stronger the smell.
You better hope that none of the Links find out about this power or how many loops you've gone through (not that the curse would let you tell anyone, anyway). It would shatter them. All they know is that when you suddenly start tweaking, it’s time to lock in. It’s not that they ‘get used to’ your odd (to put it mildly) behaviour, but they do learn to back off and kind of just let it happen after you tell them to not worry about it. It’s still unnerving, but they don’t know what to do other than offer their concerns, since you never want to explain yourself.
Time realises quickly that something is up with you. You seem to know what’s going to happen ahead of time, even if you try to not make it obvious, you’re constantly planning ahead and removing yourself from the group to ‘collect your thoughts’ when you think no one would notice. He’s seen your mood shift dramatically at the drop of a hat. One minute you’re fine, laughing and joking, and suddenly you look like you’re about to have a mental breakdown or you wake up screaming bloody murder. Eventually, it all starts to feel awfully similar to how he was whenever he travelled through time. And all the pieces start to fit into place when he realises this. You have some ability related to time travel/clairvoyance, he just doesn't know how it works. But he is determined to figure it out, even if you never want to give him an answer, always avoiding the topic and trying to lead his attention somewhere else.
Despite how much Warriors teases you for being a ‘scaredy cat,’ he honestly thinks you’re irreplaceable. You’ve gotten the group out of many sticky situations, so much so that you must have some kind of future sight or the goddesses have gifted you with the most brilliant strategic mind in history. You always have a plan, you’ve never made a mistake, you can come up with an idea that’ll get them the best possible outcome all in the blink of an eye. If only they knew… Now if only he could do something about that stupid ‘self sacrificial’ habit of yours.
When forming a plan, he wants your input. When you say that the group should avoid an area, he takes that into consideration, even if when questioned, you say that it’s because you just ‘have a feeling.’ You have yet to be proven wrong in his eyes. He’s almost jealous of you. You unmasked a whole group of Yiga soldiers after being in town for less than a day, all based on tiny ‘hints’ that you noticed (little does anyone know that it took you about 8 loops to figure that mess out). Maybe you should be the head strategist of the group, huh? Not up for it? Alright, fine, but at least try to not steal his thunder, okay?
Hyrule is like Warriors, but way more. He believes you’re the coolest person to ever exist, even more worthy of the ‘hero’ title than him. You’re undoubtedly the weakest in the group, but you never give up, you’re still out there fighting because you believe you all can win. He’d trust you with his life if you asked. Travelling with the Chain made him realise how much he needed positive connections with others, so he wants to be there for you too, especially given he’s seen your ‘mood swings’ and self worth plummet. He is your number 1 supporter, just like you’re constantly inspiring him and others around you.
He also finds that he’s often healing you. He’s noticed that on days when you’re really out of it, you inflict harm onto yourself for reasons he can’t fathom. You’d scratch yourself until you begin to bleed, usually on your arms, but sometimes on your neck as well. He’s tried to snap you out of it, and while it does usually work, he can never get you to stop for good.
Hoo boy. Twilight. So you know how he almost died? Yeah, turns out that that injury was a ‘canon event’ that you cannot change. When you forced a RbD (in other words, you killed yourself), you found out that the fight had already happened and your last respawn point was set afterwards. That was the first time that Twilight realised that there was something seriously wrong with you. While Rulie was passed out from using too much magic, and the others wouldn’t dare enter the room for various reasons, and he was falling in and out of consciousness, you stood by his bedside, hardly able to choke back tears, apologising for ‘not being able to fix this.’
Of course, he had noticed that smell on you, how it seemed to fluctuate at random but still sticking to you, and how monsters were drawn to you like moths to a flame whenever that smell spiked. It reminded him of the Twili magic that clung to him. Could you have been affected by something similar? But by what and what did it do to you other than make you an irresistible target to monsters? This and other factors cause him to be very protective of you, similarly with how he is with Wild.
Wild is down for your crazy plans, even if he has to admit that some of them sound dicey at the very best. But you have the devil’s own luck and he’s honestly thankful that you’re the lucky one out of everyone.
While he is glad that others (including himself, of course) have high opinions of you, he’s keeping a close eye on you and how much pressure is put on you. While he might not remember much of his ‘previous life,’ he’s all too familiar with what happens when expectations are piled onto someone. Because of this, he’s trying to joke and laugh with you, telling embarrassing stories because he wants people to remember that you’re a person, not a walking list of accomplishments. But should you ask for his help, he’s not going to say ‘no.’
I want you to know that of all of the links, Legend is the one most determined to know what is up with you. Yes, he teases you the same way that Warriors does, but he recognises that you are deeply messed up (takes one to know one, bitch). He’s seen that faroff, dead look in your eyes and it felt so real that - if it was not for you blinking - he could swear he was looking at your corpse.
He once cornered you (literally) in an attempt to get you to tell the truth, but when he noticed that genuine fear in your eyes, he backed off. He swears that he’ll get to the bottom of it, but knows that forcing it out of you won’t help. Even if your ‘stubbornness’ is wearing his patience thin.
Sky is basically your therapy dog. You know how his Zelda was always standing up for him? Well, now he’s doing that with you. He knows a bullying victim when he sees one. He sticks close to you when in new places and should you show any signs of discomfort, tries to distract you.
One thing that makes him nervous though, is what happens when you come into contact with the Master Sword; it burns you. With some help from Twilight, Sky knows that there’s a ‘curse’ on you, which would explain some things about you. He doesn’t like how the sword’s power isn’t enough to get rid of it, like it could with Legend’s transformations. Whatever this curse is, it’s powerful and won’t be easy to get rid of. Not like he’ll give up on finding a cure.
Four is surprised at how quickly you begin to pick up on swordplay. Did he teach you some of those moves? He’s sure he would have remembered it if he had. Maybe Sky taught you? The Skyloft knight was the best swordsman in the group, so it’s possible. But something keeps nagging at him that that wasn’t the case.
You’re hiding something. Something big; he’s absolutely certain of it. And he knows that the others know too. Still, it’s not like none of them have secrets they’re sitting on. But what could possibly be so important that you won’t tell them? It’s not that he doesn’t trust you, you’ve shown time and time again that you’re an amazing person. It’s just that he feels a little hurt that you don’t trust them enough to tell them what’s going on with you. They’re all worried about you, but if it really means that much to you, he’s sure that you’ll tell them eventually.
Wind wants to make bets with you on basically anything and everything. Is it going to rain today? Who will be the first to trip on a rock and fall flat on their face? Will the next portal lead the group to his era? Yes, these questions are often silly, but he genuinely wants to keep you happy. That’s why he’s constantly sticking to your side, telling jokes and stories, inviting you to play some stupid game of chase. Wind is a lot more emotionally intelligent than many assume (mostly because they underestimate him due to his age), so he can tell when your mental health is about to take a nosedive, despite the happy ‘mask’ that you put on.
One person who you never thought would ‘understand’ you is the Fierce Deity. You have no idea how or why, but it seems like he holds you in very high regard. Not necessarily for your physical strength or weapon skills (lord knows you could never match him or any of the Links), but he seems to ‘get’ you, like he… Respects you? He can’t help but see you as a warrior in your own right. He looks at you and he sees that look in your eyes; the look of someone who has seen death many times. It’s a trait that is highly valued among warriors (because it shows experience) and often even seen as ‘attractive.’
He is actually the only one who learns the truth about you. Fierce has seen Time repeat the day night cycle over and over so many times, so he’s more than familiar with the concept of time travel. But when he learned the method behind your power - when, in a last ditch effort, you put the mask on and his mind and memories fused with yours - his respect for you shot up sky high, but he’s also incredibly worried about you. The toll that your ability has already taken on you is immense and he knows that it’ll only get worse as the group gets closer to defeating the one behind the portals. It’s times like these that he wishes he had the knowledge and ability to give you comfort. Yes, he has more than enough strength to protect you in a fight, but being locked away in a mask (one that his host refuses to use), leaves him useless.
All he can hope for is that you two could get a moment alone, where he can tell you that ‘he knows,’ and let you let out all the emotions that you’ve been forced to bottle up for much too long. If you want to use him as a shoulder to cry on and vent out everything you’ve gone through, he’ll let you. As for why he can’t be killed by the curse, it’s because his status as a literal deity is protecting him.
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brf-rumortrackinganon · 1 day ago
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Do you think Meghan felt a certain way about Catherine way before the engagement? Even before Harry?
Meghan has always portrayed herself as this “girls run the world” hyper-feminist where she values herself for being college-educated, having an intelligent career (I know), meeting tons of powerful and influential people, and having those powerful and influential people hanging onto her every word. She looks down on women who want or occupy a more traditional gender role - the homemaker, the princess, the stay-at-home mom, the woman who doesn’t use her college degree, the woman who doesn’t hustle, the woman who’s content with simple things.
She’s been that way her whole life. It’s an okay perspective to have, but she completely misses what it means to be a feminist with that perspective. Meghan’s view of feminism is “girls are independent and self-sufficient and work outside the home in powerful careers and we help each other hustle.” That’s not feminism. Feminism is “all women get to be whoever and whatever they want to be and we support every woman to achieve her goals.”
So because of Meghan’s “feminism”, she’s mean and derogatory towards women who prefer a more traditional gender role. She thinks less of them. They aren’t important enough. They’re not worth her time. She doesn’t see them as particularly contributory towards society. Not like her.
And that’s the attitude that comes across in Meghan’s Tig article where she mentions Kate. Back in 2014, Meghan got to “interview” Princess Alia Al Senussi (Libya) and the setup was “women dream of being princesses their whole lives - look at all the fuss around Princess Kate’s wedding. Not me, because I think princesses are stupid but here, I found this cool Princess who’s really smart and so much better for us to go gaga over than some girl getting married.”
So to answer your question, I think Meghan had always been resentful or judgmental of Kate for her choices to have a more traditional gender role. I think it comes across as jealousy or envy at times, almost as if Meghan’s childhood wasn’t easy or safe enough to indulge in that kind of imaginary playtime, like maybe reality smacked her in the face around ages 3-4, and she resents anyone whose childhood was easier, safer, more playful, etc.
And I also think reality smacked Meghan even harder in the face at age 35 (in 2016/2017) when she met Kate for the first time and realized that she isn’t the simple homemaker housewife Meghan thought she was: Kate is smart, Kate is powerful, Kate has a ton of influence over powerful people, Kate meets the people Meghan’s strived to meet her whole life, and Kate occupies the space Meghan has strived and hustled for her whole entire life without breaking a sweat. That to me is the source of Meghan’s feelings towards Kate - Kate embodies Meghan’s “feminism” without even trying (which makes Meghan jealous) and yet Kate also rejects it for a more traditional gender role (which makes Meghan see her as less than and unimportant, someone to use and climb over on her way to the top).
And to me, those feelings Meghan towards Kate have been made very clear in the books, Spare especially, and Meghan’s own PR. If you chart the evolution of Meghan’s attitude towards Kate:
in 2016/early 2017, Meghan has total derision for Kate and she launches a “I’m going to out-duchess the duchess” PR campaign. Meghan thinks Kate doesn’t do any real work, that she’s the stylish and prettier and harder worker so she’ll have to help Kate reach her full potential (in other words, Meghan is looking down on Kate for choosing to have a minimal, more traditional role).
In mid/late 2017, the PR and the attitude becomes “besties conquer the world together,” in the way Meghan is so overly friendly and causal to Kate, almost as if Meghan thinks Kate is so simple that she can be intimidated into giving up her #1 position to Meghan’s #2 or that she’d be thrilled and gladly pass over the #1 spot because she doesn’t want to work.
The final turn (and the brutal smack of reality in Meghan’s face) happens in mid-2018 when Kate starts flexing her power and it all goes to shit for Meghan. I think the inflection point is Trooping 2018 - when Kate got front center on the balcony and Meghan (whose PR (and hindsight) said she expected to be front center as the newest royal bride and Diana’s natural heir) was pushed behind, like so:
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And it deteriorated from there. The more Kate “got,” the less there was for Meghan and the harder it was for Meghan to climb over her, the angrier it made Meghan because her “feminist” worldview was totally failing her - the harder the modern career woman hustled, the more the traditional homemaker girl succeeded.
Which is actually pretty ironic when you think about it, because now Meghan embodies that traditional gender role - her PR claims how fulfilled she is by being a mom, cooking for her family, and having a beautiful home and garden (all things that her PR derided Kate for in 2017-2021).
Since this already soooooo much longer than I planned (really, I was just going to cite the 2014 She-Ra story and post but…y’all know I like to ramble sometimes), I’ll just end with this.
I know there’s a lot of to-do about Meghan’s dress for marrying Trevor in 2011 being a Kate copycat so she must have always been envious and jealous of her. I see that point, but I disagree. Meghan’s Jamaica wedding dress was an unfortunate victim of 2010/2011 dress trends, not anything exclusively influenced by the royal wedding. That kind of dress - the strapless gown with a sparkly belt - was EVERYWHERE back in those days; just go back and watch the old Say Yes to the Dress episodes from 2009-2011. (You didn’t start seeing Kate’s influence on the bridal industry until the 2012 SYTTD episodes.)
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manmuncher777 · 1 day ago
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Gojo trying out something new with you…
18+ SMUTTTT
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“T-Toru- oh my god” Satoru currently had you folded in half, like a fucking deck chair in the most brutal mating press of your life. Your sweaty palms trying to keep grip on the back of your knees as he had decided to be mean today and make you hold your own legs up, instead of doing that work for you. Your mouth hanging open with every sharp thrust of his, feeling his bulbous tip practically kiss your cervix.
You’s been like this for hours now, saturo deciding he wasn’t feeling as nice today. Edging you to the point of crying. Hot salty tears that streamed down you face, dragging little bits of mascara with them.
Gojo quite liked this look on you, no he loved it. It made him feel feral. glancing over your fucked out features; your glossy lips, covered in saliva and precum. Your eyes, shining brightly with the tears he had caused. But oh you looked so pretty when you tried to stop them from rolling back into your head. The makeup you had spent an hour on, now streaking down your face so beautifully like some sort of modern art painting. This was when you looked most beautiful to him.
“Hold those legs up for me pretty, I need a good view of my girl.”he breathed out, slight pauses in his sentence with each thrust he delivered. His balls slapping heavily against the skin of your ass, the sound echoing around the room so deliciously. Vulgar noises a that filled the air, turning you on even more.
You tried your best to listen to the glistening man above you, but fuck he was just making you feel so good. It was hard to concentrate on controlling your hands when all you could think about was how he was slipping in and out of your welcoming walls. The way his abs glistened and tensed with each thrust, the huge biceps wither side of your head. You were certain you could cum just from looking at him.
You looked down to where you both met, watching as a ring of white formed around the base of his thick cock. That made you falter for a second.
A mistake
Your hands slipped, releasing you legs. You didnt have the power to raise them again to fix your mistake; all your muscles weak due to the excercise satoru was putting you through right now.
“Oh no, just when you were being so good for me sweetheart” he fake pouts at you, cooing teasingly in your ear. “Go on, pick them up.” he ordered, but you couldnt do anything but whimper pathetically underneath him, his words going in one ear and out the other.Another mistake.
You were soon snapped out of your little daydream to a slap on the side of your face, more of a tap really, but it was hard enough to bring a little gasp from you.
“Pick them up baby, now.” he glared at you, his eyes more demanding now. His eyes threatening you, daring you to ignore him again.
“Satoru..” you whined at him, sulking like a baby, but you didnt dare leave your legs. With all your might you raised them again, hooking your hand underneath and bringing your ankles as far up to your ears as you could possibly manage. This wasn’t fair, he was fucking the shit out of you and still expected you to do the heavy lifting.
“Oh well that got you to listen didn’t it?” he teased again, cocky smirk on his face. “Does my sweet girl - fuck - do you like being slapped around sweetheart?” He quizzed you. Very interested in your response. He knew you were kinky, but this was something new.
You were trying so hard to listen, but the way he was stretching you over him right now, merciless pounds of his cock against you walls. You could hardly think. All you could think about was how well he was moulding you to him, you could feel every single vein on his cock as he fucked you. Every single grove and curve that had your back arching off the bed, craving more
Another slap, a little harder this time. The gentle tingling across your features brought your doe eyes to his menacing ones. The look he was giving you, an air of authority clung to it. He really knew how to get you worked up. “I asked you a question sweets?”
He already knew the answer, he just wanted you all pathetic for him. He chuckled as he watched you try to form an answer
He wasn’t giving you an easy time. You cried out under him weakly, trying to form works as one of his hands travelled down between you, rubbing fast circles on your bundle of nerves. “Yes- oh- yes toru. I love it! oh god- yes” You couldnt help but clench around him, his dominance, his face. It was driving you crazy.
For a split second you saw a glint of something in his eyes, soemthing devilish. Before they quickly roll back at the feeling of you tightening around him “Shit baby, yeah you do.”
God you were practically milking him, the way your warm walls sucked him back in each time he pulled back. the slick that was covering his lower torso, shit you did like it rough.
He watched intently as you eyes screwed shut from pleasure, with the way you were writhing beneath him, trying to run from hos grasp he could tell you were close.
Another slap, harder. The tingling feeling back again, something so sensual and delicious with the light sting.
“nuh uh sweets, don’t try and run from it. Just take it like a good girl.” fuck his words were driving you crazy. Your tried to listen to him, but with all the edging from earlier that evening, it made it so much more difficult.
A few more strokes of his thick cock and you were about to cum, not before another slap. Shit this hot, the way he was throwing you about, roughing you up.
You could help but let out a scream as you came, the feeling overwhelming you as you creamed all over Gojos cock, a sticky white ring forming around his base. You came from a slap, shit. But lord it hurt so good.
“oh there she is, good girl, let go for me baby.” he whimpered out. Whimpered
You were squeezing him so deliciously, he could feel how wet you are. Not able to stop himself from watching himself enter you over and ver again as you squirmed from overstimulation.
He shuddered as he came, legs tightening, hips stuttering. His voice let out a chesty groan as he shot white ropes of thick cum inside you.
This was certainly something satoru was going to use against you.
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yinyuedijun · 2 days ago
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since it is on the brain tonight. have one of my favourite (very very long) scenes of desire path backstory (happened in both versions of the fic, og and current)
(tw implied child abuse and incest)
background: you've just been adopted into the itoshi household and have had a really hard time opening up. sae hears you crying in your bedroom every night. here, he finally decides to try and help you. you're about 6 here, sae is 8.
___
Still, you had your bad nights. Progress has never been linear with you, not now and not back then. Sae recalls one midnight where you had a crying fit that disintegrated into a violent string of coughs, each one so powerful that it made him wince.
He wondered how the whole house wasn't awake, listening to your pain. Rin always slept like a rock—Sae could see him snoring away in the other bed, so it made sense that he wasn't bothered—but surely their parents were hearing this? But then he decided not to linger on it for too long.
It didn't matter since he was going to help you anyway.
He ended up knocking on your door with a glass of water. Almost immediately, all the shifting in your room stopped, almost like you were trying to silence yourself. But Sae could hear the coughs being torn violently from your throat, even though they now sounded strained and muffled.
"Hey," he called out softly. "It's me. Are you awake?"
Silence. Sae knew to give it a moment before he tried again.
"Can I come in?"
If it had been anyone other than you, you told Sae years later, your fingers running lazily through his hair, lifting the bangs out of his face, I wouldn't have said anything. I'd have pretended to be sleeping. But I let you in because it was you. You squeezed his hand, then, and your eyes were close—so close, heavy on his own and weighed down by the vulpine flick of your eyeliner, by the mascara sooty and thick on neatly curled lashes, by your childhood shadows. Your strawberry gloss shone next to his lips, and your heated and tender words kissed them: Do you understand what I'm saying, Nii-chan? If it had been anyone else, I wouldn't have been—
"...okay."
When Sae crept into your room, found an empty bed. You were hiding underneath it, curled up in the tiny space between the floor and the mattress, hugging the quilt he'd handed to you weeks ago. He crouched down, showed you the glass of water. Sae wasn't sure if the offering would be enough to draw you out from under the bed, but another coughing fit—this one strong enough to make you teary-eyed—had you crawling out. You mumbled a little thank you as you took the glass from him and drank.
"You haven't cried like that in a while," Sae commented, and you gave him a stricken look. After a long moment of unadultered panic in your eyes, he heard you string more than two words for the first time:
"...s-sorry. I'm really sorry." You were looking down at the floor, and it was like all the progress Sae had made over the past several weeks had gone up in smoke—you looked petrified, small, a cornered animal with nowhere to run. "I didn't know you could hear me."
"Don't apologize. I don't mind it."
"...you're not mad?"
Sae thought it was a funny question. "No. Who'd get mad at something like that?"
You didn't reply, just looking away, and Sae felt a little frustrated, then. He'd been working so hard to make you feel comfortable and thought he'd finally made some progress—but now he was seeing you regress in real time. Back into the fragile little thing that his parents had decided to adopt out of the blue, looking like you couldn't trust anything around you. Like you couldn't trust him. Sae couldn't help but think—
"You don't like it here, do you."
Even at that age, you had a distinctly doe-eyed look when you were confused, and he remembers staring at it.
"No," you said. "I do."
"Then how come you don't wanna talk to any of us?"
Maybe his voice was a little too harsh. Or a little too blunt. You flinched, your body retreating into the turquoise shell of your quilt.
"Sorry."
"That's—" Sae paused, chewing his lip. Tried to make his voice as gentle as possible, because he knew his usual tone would scare you. "...you don't need to be sorry. I'm not mad. I just wanna know what's been making you so upset. Like—how come you always cry at night?"
You got that nervous, uncertain look in your eye again, and Sae got the distinct feeling that you were wondering if this whole conversation was some kind of trick. He added, "I just wanna know how to cheer you up. I don't like seeing you so sad all the time."
You blinked, gave him a surprised look, but it was fleeting, quickly making way for another gloomy expression. "You don't need to worry about me… I don't think I'm going to stay here for very long."
Sae's brow furrowed. His mom had made it sound like you were going to be his little sister just like how Rin was his brother—that is, permanently. "Why not?"
The face you made was so miserable that it startled Sae. He hadn't had a lot of experience with sadness as a kid—most of what he'd witnessed revolved around soccer, when the opposing team lost, and Sae never felt very sorry for them. Sometimes Rin would throw tantrums or cry over silly things, but those were easy to handle. Sae supposed that the worst sadness he'd ever seen was in his mother, who tried her best to hide it—
—but not even her saddest expressions could compare to how shattered you looked in that moment.
"...your dad doesn't actually want me here, Sae-san."
Sae's brow creased. You have a new sister, he recalled. You need to take care of her, OK? It's your job as the eldest.
"That can't be right," Sae replied. "Dad said he wanted you to be part of this family. He even said I should look after you."
Instead of responding, you looked long and hard at Sae, and for the first time, he experienced the strange feeling of being dissected by you. He felt translucent and naked under your eyes—keen for such an innocent age, seeing everything in the dark.
"We have the same father, but different moms. You know that, right?" you asked quietly.
He hadn't.
"Your dad didn't like my mom very much, and that's why he didn't want me. He's only being forced to take me now 'cause my mom decided she didn't want me either." Your eyes started to shimmer, and you hid them in your blanket. "My stepdad and my brother also left 'cause they didn't want me. And I don't think your mom likes me very much, either. So"—you breathed in deep and whispered, and Sae felt like he was watching a vase tip over the edge, a sandcastle crumbling into dirt, his mother crying as she fumbled for her cigarettes when she thought no one was watching—"it's not gonna be very long 'til your parents throw me away too."
Sae went silent. If his heart ached for you when he first laid eyes on you, then it was being crushed right now. He didn't think very hard about it when he placed a hand over one of yours.
"They wouldn't do something like that," he said.
Your fingers twitched under his, like you wanted to pull away.
"They want to. I can tell."
You're just imagining things, Sae nearly replied, but then he remembered that he'd never once heard his parents come here at night to check on your crying, and then he went quiet.
"...it doesn't matter," he eventually decided. "I won't let them."
A little sniff. "No?"
"No. I'll make sure you stay with us."
You blinked the saltwater away from your lashes, then gave him a curious look. "Why?"
"Because I'm your brother, and it's my job to take care of you."
"Really?" you asked, voice watery.
His eyes softened, his usual impassivity crumbling for you.
"Really. I would never let anyone throw you away," he said, and the words felt so ugly in his mouth that he couldn't fathom how anyone had done that to you. How anyone could have done anything to you. You were so sweet, and so kind, and so vulnerable, and it left him feeling sick when he imagined you being hurt in any way. "I'll keep you safe. Promise."
Sae nearly jumped when he felt something move in his hand. He looked down, saw your little fingers prodding at his own, and he offered you his open palm. You took it readily, Sae found himself transfixed by the latticework of your entwined fingers.
"Thank you, Sae-san."
"It's nothing," he wrote off. His thumb rubbed the back of your hand, gentle in a way that his voice wasn't. "But I'm your brother now, remember? You should address me properly."
You smiled a little, studying your interlocked fingers, and Sae felt a peculiar warmth in his chest, an uptick in his pulse.
"Okay, Nii-chan."
Nii-chan. Sae's always loved hearing that title in your mouth. Not out of a demand for respect the way Rin obsesses over it, but because you've always seemed so happy to say it, the syllables sweetened by your adoring tongue. Okay, Nii-chan, you've always said. I'll listen to you, Nii-chan. I trust you, Nii-chan. I love you, Nii-chan. I love you, I love you, I love you.
So please don't leave us again.
Please don't throw me away.
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treatbuckywkisses · 2 days ago
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Nika the way you write !!!! Is SO !!!!!!!!!!!!! Every piece you ever make is so vivid and visual to me !! YOU ARE SUCH A STORYTELLER!!!!!!! 
CAUSE AND EFFECT 
"It’s infuriating to him, the way you get to use your powers. The way you don’t need to think about consequences, because they don’t have to be permanent, don’t have to be something you need to live with for the rest of your life. To you, time has always been something that can be changed with a single snap of your fingers. Whatever you do can just as easily be undone." - I am OBSESSED with Bucky's pov this is everything to me🥹 and the way he's thinking about readers powers being a gift while she's carrying it calling it a curse is SO scream worthy 
"With all the good that you could do, you choose to do nothing instead; to stay out of the picture entirely and burn through your powers just because you can, wasting them all on things that don’t mean anything. " - GOD YOU ARE SO EVIL this is such a realistic first impression from bucky though 😔 
"Something about her words strikes him like a match, and so he tilts his head and squints at her and thinks that maybe, just maybe, he’s got it wrong." - Bitch I have CHILLS. (Also Becca knows he's in love w her) This realization is everything. Pure perfection.
"Honestly, he can’t. He’s still trying to pick up on it, the split second between before and after, that little change of your posture, your hair, your face, that tells him more time has passed for you than it has for him. " - FUCK OFF SRE YOU ACTUALLY KIDDING ME HES WATCHING FOR HER TIME TRAVELIJHBTHROUGH SUBTLE CHANGES YOU ARE INSANE SOMEONE LOCK HER UP IM DONE WITH HER GET AWAY 
"He can’t help it. He wonders what your original answer was." - IAM KICKING MY FEET AND TWIRLING MY HAIR AND SCREAMING AND WRITIJG IN MY DIARY HE WANTS HER SO BAD I CANT STAND YOU 
"You’re grouchy in the mornings and you make terrible jokes when you’re nervous and you have a strange feud with his cat and your smile makes him want to put his fist through the wall because what is he supposed to do with any of this?" - BAGSJSG THIS IS SO FUNNY IM SO GIDDY RN UOURE INSANE KISS ME ON THE MOUTH 
"You’re you, and he’s him, and there’s a sort of "us" in the both of you that doesn’t exist in real life. So when you let him lace his fingers with yours and press your lips to his forehead and it feels easy, that’s usually the point when he wakes up, heart tumbling over itself, right hand tracing the ghost of your touch, always too much, never enough. " - oh my God get a GRIP girl I'm tearing up at this paragraph you are fucking joking and then you go and MAKE THEM HOLD HANDS OH MY GOD AND HE DOESNT EVEN FUCKING REMEMBR SRE YOU FUCKING KIDING NE RIGHT NOW THATS EVEN MORE FUCKED UO EHY DO YOU HATE ME RIGHT NOW NIKA OH MY GOD ?????????????????? 
here I am feeling all of the feelings with a SIDE PIECE you're clinically insane I can't stand you 
Pls fix my heart I can't take this i need them to kiss rn and he together forever and ever 😭😭😭😭😭
❤️ a good time!
tat!bucky’s favorite (or least favorite) thing about twelve
… why not both?
cause and effect
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chapter summary: How Bucky fell in love with Twelve: Slowly, and then all at once.
pairing: bucky barnes x time witch!reader
word count: 1.8k
warnings: light angst and negative self talk (this is bucky y'all); some light pining 🤭please note that my blog is rated 18+. minors dni. ageless/empty blogs will be blocked without warning.
a/n: i've literally had this one in my drafts for about two years and i hadn't actually planned on posting it for a while yet but i did promise distractions. and i missed him. i always do.
this is part of the time after time universe but can be read as a teaser and/or a standalone 💚
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Bucky’s relationship with time has been fractured ever since a cold day in January that stole away the life he was headed towards and turned him into the monster underneath a child’s bed.
It’s hard to feel good about the concept of time travel once a lot of your own time has been taken away from you. Even now, there’s only so many things in his life he has control over; like the fact that he’s actively choosing to go back to therapy now, or that he’s able to keep a pet for the first time since he was thirteen years old. Stupid little things, like what kind of food he wants for lunch or whether he should take the stairs or the elevator.
Every single one of these things he’s fought for tooth and nail, clawing his way out of the past and carving out his own space in reality again, struggling, trying, hanging on like he wasn’t able to all those decades ago.
He’s probably still failing.
Some days, clinging to the present is tense and brings him nothing but grief. Sometimes, it feels like he’s going to have to mourn the past forever, whatever might have been; and maybe that’s his sentence.
He wouldn’t have wished it on anyone. He deserves worse.
And then there’s you.
Flickering in and out of time, constantly moving, changing in the time it takes him to blink.
It’s infuriating to him, the way you get to use your powers. The way you don’t need to think about consequences, because they don’t have to be permanent, don’t have to be something you need to live with for the rest of your life. To you, time has always been something that can be changed with a single snap of your fingers. Whatever you do can just as easily be undone.
Once you decide you’ve seen enough, you can just take the scene from the top.
And you’re so stubborn.
You’ve already seen how this goes on if you let it, and so you’re always right, end of story. There’s an ease to your steps because of it, a nonchalance in every movement, and it makes Bucky’s blood boil to see it so plainly.
With all the good that you could do, you choose to do nothing instead; to stay out of the picture entirely and burn through your powers just because you can, wasting them all on things that don’t mean anything.
How many lives could you potentially save?
Instead, you consume disturbing amounts of caffeine and then continue to provide running commentary to the world around you based on things that, to him, never happen at all. "Do this", "don’t do that", "take the other one", or, his absolute favorite, "don’t make me fix that".
Why not? he wants to ask, say, demand. Why not fix all of it?
It takes a while for him to realize that all of your fire means you’re burning from both ends. In fact, it takes Becca.
"You should bring her by sometime," she tells him on a rainy afternoon. "While I’m still alive and kicking."
His little sister just turned ninety-eight. Her kitchen sideboard is filled with black-and-white pictures reminding him of all the things in her life that he missed, arranged in perfect little wooden frames.
"And why would I do that?" Bucky asks, scowling at his cards.
"Because you keep mentioning her," Rebecca says dryly and whisks the cards onto her pile with quick fingers.
"You gotta be kidding me," he groans, noting down her points. "And I don’t."
"Do, too. I don’t remember you being this terrible at this game."
"Because I haven’t caught you when you’re cheating."
"Exactly. It’s embarrassing." She wins the next trick, too. "How’s Tuesday?"
"Am I clairvoyant now?"
"I was thinking lunch."
"No." Finally, he gets a couple of points down. When he glances up at his sister again, she’s looking at him expectantly and he sighs. "What?"
"You can’t fault me for being curious," she says. She has just as many opinions as she did when she was sixteen. Her eyes are still the same, too, the same shade of blue as his and the same glimmer of archness as their mother.
"Don’t you think it’s weird?" Bucky says, finally giving in. "The whole … time thing?"
"I think it’s very weird, but so’s you returning from the dead and kvetching about it." Her eyes narrow when he starts to protest. His mouth closes again. "Besides," she continues, shuffling her hand around, "it doesn’t sound all that fun."
"To have the power to never make mistakes?"
"To have to live through every mistake twice without anyone knowing."
Something about her words strikes him like a match, and so he tilts his head and squints at her and thinks that maybe, just maybe, he’s got it wrong.
That you carry not only your past, but all the futures you’ve seen that never came to be; all the what ifs having turned into answers.
And he thinks, how nice. And then he thinks, how horrifying.
It’s a thought that follows him over the next couple of weeks, and it starts reframing your interactions for him, in a way.
"Will you stop staring at me," you say without looking up from your book.
Honestly, he can’t. He’s still trying to pick up on it, the split second between before and after, that little change of your posture, your hair, your face, that tells him more time has passed for you than it has for him.
It’s more of a feeling than anything else, something right at the back of his mind telling him that something is different if he concentrates on it enough, but he’s never sure what it is. And he doesn’t like that; not one bit.
So Bucky crosses his arms and leans back. "Why?"
A flash of irritation makes your nose twitch, even though you still refuse to meet his eye.
"It’s rude, for one."
"Noted." He waits for the two that never comes. "Anything else?"
And there it is. A blink-and-you-miss-it kind of moment, like the air shifting around you ever so slightly, a certain knowing glint in your eyes when you roll them and get up.
"Annoying!"
He can’t help it. He wonders what your original answer was.
***
Bucky’s relationship with time changes slowly, the deepest cuts carefully mending themselves until looking back doesn’t feel like getting his bones ripped apart anymore, until he looks at you on a cold day in January and realizes he’s fucked.
At first, he hopes that it might be a fluke. A trick of the light, maybe, or seasonal allergies. That’s the reason why his eyes are drawn to your face as soon as he enters a room; the closest source of discomfort always the thing he seeks out first. That’s the reason why his chest constricts like that.
But the truth is, he knows this feeling has been building slowly; he’s just been unwilling to admit it.
Something soft and delicate has started to nestle in that gaping hole inside his chest, unbothered by the walls he’s so carefully built up.
He’d never planned on you.
Fuck, if he’d known in the beginning, he might’ve …
No, he thinks. He wouldn’t have changed anything.
Because you’re too good for him, anyway, and he knows it. Smart and strong and funny and gorgeous and capable of things he’s not sure he’ll ever fully comprehend; and it’s worse than that, because he knows you now.
You’re grouchy in the mornings and you make terrible jokes when you’re nervous and you have a strange feud with his cat and your smile makes him want to put his fist through the wall because what is he supposed to do with any of this?
He’s not made for this dance anymore. That part was taken from him so long ago, and he’s delusional to think that anything or anyone could return it to him after all the bridges he’d been made to cross and burn. Why would someone like him deserve to be given tenderness anymore in this life? Why would anyone want to try?
But that foolish thing blooming inside him feels a lot like hope, despite of what he keeps telling himself.
There’s just something about you that keeps pulling him in, and honestly, he’s tired of fighting it. Then again, the thought of you feeling the same is nothing short of ridiculous.
He’s not the same guy as he used to be. Hell, sometimes he’ll look at old photographs and barely recognize himself.
He remembers life before, and maybe that’s what makes this so hard. He remembers talking to pretty girls, their bright smiles, their soft skin underneath his hands. Good times were easy to come by, even though life was hard in a different way, then. But he was good at it; acting on his feelings alone used to be simple, fun, second-nature almost.
It’s different now.
It used to be different only once before, and look where that’s gotten him.
No, he can’t say anything. Not ever; or not yet, at any rate.
Sometimes, though, Bucky lies awake at night and listens to the rain knocking against his window, and he remembers how much easier falling asleep used to be when he had someone next to him and his mattress didn’t swallow him alive.
He’ll remember the dark circles under your eyes and wish it could be as easy as asking, too. He wonders if there’s a universe you remember where he tries, but he doubts it.
These days, he knows his mind again. And it’s not a burden he wants to share.
You have enough to carry on your own.
Maybe, he thinks as he stares up at the ceiling at three in the morning, maybe there’s still a certain comfort in your powers, in knowing all the possibilities, but it also means constantly losing something that’s real; always mourning the life that isn’t.
He can relate to that.
And maybe that means you can relate to him, too, at least a little bit.
It’s odd, how comforting that last little thought is to him.
When he does eventually fall asleep, you make your way into his dreams, too, sometimes. Those times are the worst.
You’re you, and he’s him, and there’s a sort of "us" in the both of you that doesn’t exist in real life. So when you let him lace his fingers with yours and press your lips to his forehead and it feels easy, that’s usually the point when he wakes up, heart tumbling over itself, right hand tracing the ghost of your touch, always too much, never enough.
He knows it’s not real.
He knows it’s just an indulgence; selfish, really.
The problem is that whatever small hope has decided to settle in his very core is impossible to kill, no matter how much he pushes it down; and he’s not sure he wants to lose it again.
Secretly, silently, serendipitously, you make him have faith in the future again.
But it’s not time for it yet.
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if you want to read more about these two (plus a lot of time related shenanigans), read the main series here. or check out the rest of my bucky fics, that's also an option 💚 i don't do tag lists but you can follow @intrepidacious-fics for update notifications
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fel-09 · 2 days ago
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General Acacius x Isekai! Reader x emperor Geta
Words 1.4к
Part 1 Part 2 Part 3
Version on wadpad wattpad
Get into the movie?What a joke Part 4
The tepid wind blew leisurely, playing with your hair as if it had its own intentions. Along with the wind, rose petals took to the air, their scent so overpowering it almost suffocated with its richness. Your eyes lifted to the sky uncertainly as your fingers nervously fidgeted with the fabric of your skirt. The situation was awkward—palpable, almost tangible, as if the tension could be tasted on your tongue. It was so overwhelming that you wanted to dissolve into the intoxicating floral scent, to vanish into its thick embrace.
At the same time, General Acacius stood nearby, his gaze fixed on the vast floral field before him. He hadn’t anticipated finding himself in such a situation—with you. Yet, one thing brought him solace: as in the first time you met, there were no prying eyes. This moment was his, unobserved, and for once, he could afford honesty.
He exhaled through clenched teeth, then turned to face you. His gaze caught on your profile, and he swallowed hard. Something about this image clung to his mind—a fleeting impression of someone else, with different features and a distinct nature. It was so ephemeral, so intangible, yet it lingered. Acacius shook his head, brushing the thought aside. He had come here for another reason, and he couldn’t allow his mind to wander.
Acacius extended his hand toward you, taking one of yours and gently running his fingers over your palm. There was a reverence in his touch—more genuine than before, more deliberate. Pressing his lips together, he took a step closer, the space between you narrowing. The air seemed to shout its disapproval, heavy with the weight of something unspoken, but he began to speak regardless.
“I must offer my apologies for… that incident,” he said, his voice low and steady. “When you fell into the water, I failed to take proper care of you. For that, I am ashamed. Please, forgive me.”
Your eyes widened in surprise as you blinked, caught off guard by his tone and the intensity of his words. Embarrassed, you averted your gaze. It wasn’t every day that a man with the appearance of one of your favorite actors apologized so intimately.
“It’s quite all right, Gener—” You stopped mid-sentence as he raised an eyebrow, clearly recalling the last time he had asked you to call him by his name. “Acacius. Just Acacius… I think it’s all right. You’ve done enough; you saved my life when no one else even lifted a finger to help me. For that, I’m profoundly grateful.”
Acacius looked at you as if seeing something entirely new. Your timid demeanor was unlike anything he had ever witnessed. It was uncharacteristic of Plavtiana—so much so that it startled him. You were aware of her reputation as headstrong, yet the exact nuances of her behavior eluded you. The historical accounts provided no personal details, only glimpses of her actions and their impact on the economy.
But there was one phrase in the chronicles, a line well-known among historians who studied her life:
“When Acacius was led into the arena, the bloodthirsty crowd suddenly fell silent. In the shadow of her box, Plavtiana sat motionless, like a statue. She made not a single gesture, yet everyone knew it was her hand that directed the general’s fate. Gladiators surrounded Acacius but delivered no blow. Instead, they slowly stripped him of his regalia—his helmet, his cloak, his breastplate. ‘Not a word,’ whispered Plavtiana, her lips barely moving, but fear reflected on every face. Her gaze spoke of power—not by law, but by the name of her father, so formidable that no one dared even whisper of her involvement. When the last sign of Acacius’s honor fell into the dust, she raised a cup of wine and smiled, a silent toast that seemed to say: ‘See, but see nothing.’”
No one understood the depth of her actions, why her treatment of Acacius was so cruel. Rumors swirled endlessly: some claimed she had loved him, only to be rejected; others said she was a deceitful woman who treated everyone with equal malice. Yet, with her father’s connections, she had no need for such enmity. Then… what was the reason?
You shuddered as Acacius’s voice pulled you back to the present.
“Still,” he continued, his tone quieter now, “I believe I’ve caused more trouble than I’ve resolved. The rumors still circulate throughout the city.” His head bowed slightly, a rare display of humility.
He was stunning—a man so striking that just looking at him made your heart race. In your eyes, he was nearly divine.
“As I’ve said before, everything is fine, Acacius,” you reassured him. “There’s no need to worry. Rumors come and go every week; soon enough, this will all be forgotten.”
But the rumors didn’t fade. They grew, each one building upon the last. People pieced together stories, seeking logic where there was none. For the days to come—and perhaps many more—no one intended to let this matter rest.
“In any case,” you said, breaking the tension, “I must take my leave. There’s much to do, so please excuse me.” You turned and began to walk away, exhaling deeply as you stepped onto the garden path. Behind you, Acacius watched your retreating figure, his gaze colder now.
He suspected much. A person like you wouldn’t have changed so easily—not without cause. If rumors had truly begun about you, you would have fought desperately to quash them, especially if they involved the two of you.
His eyes followed you, but he did not say goodbye.
_________
Several days had passed, and you remained confined within the walls of your home, painstakingly forwarding documents through messengers, avoiding any public appearances. For the fifth week in a row, you had refrained from engaging in imperial financial matters—a task you detested as much as the whispers that accompanied your name.
You sighed heavily, letting the weight of it all sink in. How had it come to this? When the letter arrived, its wax seal bearing the imperial insignia, your hands trembled.
The parchment was stern, the words sharp and unforgiving, their intent clear.
"To Flavinia Plavtia, presently occupying the position of Imperial Financial Overseer,
By the will of the Senate and the People of Rome, we hereby notify you that your conduct raises questions incompatible with the welfare of the Empire. In light of the circumstances, you are commanded to return to your post within seven days of receiving this letter.
Failure to comply will be interpreted as a resignation of your duties, resulting in immediate dismissal and subsequent investigation. The Emperor reminds you that service to Rome is the greatest honor, but also the greatest responsibility. Neglecting it is an affront not only to the Senate and the people but also to the gods who safeguard our order.
Signed by the decree of Emperor Geta and Emperor Caracalla."
Between the harshly worded lines, the message was unmistakable: You have one more day before we discard you without remorse.
Your grip tightened around the parchment as you reread it, searching for some hidden mercy that wasn’t there.
"I have to go back," you muttered under your breath, clutching your head in frustration. The letter slipped from your trembling fingers, fluttering to the floor like a fallen leaf.
The walls of your home, once a sanctuary, now seemed suffocating. You stared down at the letter, its presence on the cold tiles taunting you with its finality.
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papasbaseball · 3 days ago
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The Wizard x Reader (Wonderful Wonderful Girl) | Chapter 12
Pairing: Wizard x F!Reader
Rating: Mature (Next chapter switches to Explicit)
Warnings: Power Imbalance, Boss/Employee Relationship, Graphic Depictions of Violence
Summary: Being a maid in the Royal Palace of Oz is not half so bad. Despite the meager wages, everything else is provided for you for an honest day's work. It can be unnerving working for the most powerful man in Oz, but you are able to avoid him most of the time. This changes during Lurlinemas, your paths soon becoming inextricably intertwined.
Word Count: 2,652 of 32,210
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AO3 Link
"What happened?" he asks, pulling me to my feet. "What's wrong?"
My legs shake and I try to catch my breath, feeling my nails weakly trying to grip the tweed of his jacket. "It's the conductor," I say. "Not the same guy."
The Wizard exhales a laugh at this. "Yes," he says. "We've been changing out conductors at every stop. Did you think it was the same man shoveling coal for the past three days?"
"N-No... but-"
"Look," he says, "why don't you get some rest? You’re tired from- What were you doing? Running?” He gives me a funny look as he tries to rearrange my wind-swept hair. “We've got a ways until we get to Rouncible."
The words he's saying seem right, but there's just something I can't shake about the conductor. I don't say anything as he takes my hand. I glance back at the Frottica station passing by as he helps me up the steps and back into the living compartment.
"I know that this week has been stressful and all, but I really need you to keep it together." He wraps the woolen blanket from the first night around me and guides me to sit in one of the chairs. "The cold can do funny things to the brain. You're... uh... It's going to be alright, okay?"
I nod my head once, staring out the window as we pick up a good and decent speed. Maybe now was the time to get religious. Maybe if I prayed hard enough then this whole war would be over and I would be free to go. A divine intervention.
"I'm sorry... I'm sorry I snapped at you," he says.
"S'okay," I say, staring out the window. A light snow has started to fall, adding to the already heaping piles of the stuff that corridor the rail.
"We still haven't heard from Morrible, and she might be able to convince the Lord-Mayor to talk some sense into Thropp. That letter, it was only the first from days ago."
"Can you-" I stop, hesitating to ask. "Can we just sit together?"
To that, he doesn't say anything. The matching chair is dragged back over from the bedside. He sits down in it, holding my hand as I watch the snow fall, every flake a silent prayer that I would be able to see Fileah alive again.
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The light snow has turned to pellets of ice, giving the illusion that the roof of the train is being pelted with handfuls of rice. It’s been two, maybe three hours, and the sun has begun to paint the horizon in bruising shades of purple and indigo. The Wizard's hand is still in mine, keeping true to my request, even if I'm not really present. My gaze has been fixed on the pines that start as dark green blots of ink when they appear along the brass edge of the window, only to grow great and monstrous in size. It's the only place I can look. There was no way back, and the sooner I accepted my fate, the sooner I could plan my next move. Maybe there would be someone at the war council who pitied me enough to smuggle me back.
I've come to accept that my brain concocted the fear of the conductor as a way to stop me from leaving him. As we sit in silence, free from any pressure of time, I can see how ridiculous the idea is. The Wizard doesn't need someone to look after him. He is the Wizard of Oz, a grown man, more than capable of taking care of himself, capable of governing our great land even. I don't need him, and he doesn't need me. The next time I get the chance to get away, I won't hesitate.
I watch as the trees start to curve, cutting off the white path ahead. My free hand grips the wooden chair arm as I anticipate the slowdown that will lurch me. There wasn't always a warning – when I had spent that day out in the hallway I had taken to always having a free hand on the railing, especially with my nose in my book – but when there was, it was nice to know so I could stabilize myself. I wait, watching as the trees draw closer, but the slowdown doesn't come.
"Hey," I say, shaking the Wizard's hand. He had fallen asleep with the gentle rocking of the train but still managed to keep his hand in mine. "Hey!" I shake his shoulder.
He sputters to life, looking around. "Hmm? What? What’s going on?"
I say, "Something's wrong."
"Not the conductor business again. I told you-"
"No," I cut him off, "it's not that. The train. It's going too fast."
"Well the train is going to go fast," he replies. "That's what trains do."
I push up from my seat, pointing to the window. "No... No, look at the curve." The tree cutoff is even closer now.
The Wizard blinks sleepily as he cranes himself to get a better look. "I don't-"
A panic seizes me and I can feel my heart beat through every joint in my body as I pull him from the chair. "We need to- We need to-"
He must finally see the curve coming closer and closer, feel the way the train is not halting, because his muscles become taut under my grip. "It's not slowing," he mumbles.
I pull him one last time and this time, he comes away from the chair without effort. Our bodies tangle as we head for the exit, limbs both reaching for the door. He hugs me to his side, pressing my limbs against him as he throws open the door to the hallway.
"Something was wrong," he says. "You were right... God, you were right."
I slap my hands against his chest as he's carrying me down to the hallway. "Stop! We can't just go out there with no coats."
"Doll," he interrupts, "now is not the time to be worrying about co-"
I push out of his grasp, flying back into the living compartment to grab our coats. The thick wools in hand, he yanks me back out into the hallway and drags me down to the entrance steps. He throws open the door to the outside and the howling wind becomes deafening. The ice pellets that had sounded so gentle on the roof of the car are now flying past in a blinding wall of glass, the glitter of the snow along the tracks a deadly glimmer of shards that does not slow.
"We're-" the Wizard swallows, "We're going to have to jump."
I am doing nothing more than standing, but my heart can’t tell. "On the count of three," I squeak.
"One, two." I can't finish it.
"Three," he says.
We jump from the train in a dive and my stomach drops for the brief moment that we're flying from the car. The icy ground knocks the wind from me as we roll in the snow, tumbling to a stop. Everything hurts, and I can hear the Wizard groaning in pain. I try my best to push myself up, but yelp as my right wrist recoils from the blinding agony. Quickly, I'm cradling the injury to my chest.
"We have to-" I cough, surely drowned out by the thundering of the wheels. I try again, shouting as loud as my breathless lungs will allow me, "We have to get out of here!"
The train is still careening forward. I don’t want to be around when the wrought iron time bomb derailed and exploded.
"No-" the Wizard says, clutching his woolen coat to his chest. "Just five minutes, alright?"
I test my other arm, and satisfied with no pain, I push myself up. He's wallowing in the snow, swooped hair laden with wetness and fresh flake, eyes screwed shut in denial. I grab hold of him with my good arm, trying to ignore how the snow was already soaking into my clothes.
"Get up," I grit. "Come on, you can't just give up and die now. Get up."
"No-" the Wizard groans. "No this isn't such a bad way to go." The sun is now fully below the horizon and I know if we don't put as much distance between us and the train as possible, if it doesn't kill us, the lack of shelter will, and that will be impossible to find in the darkness.
I drop his arm and slap him across the face. That causes him to open his eyes. "It's not just you out here, asshole," I croak. My vocal cords are fried from the attempted screaming. "I'm not going to let you fucking die. Now, come on." I fall to the side of him, tugging his arm to at least get him onto his side.
The train is at the curve now, and my eyes cannot be torn away from the horror that unfolds. The terrible iron beast is jerked easily off of the track, like it were a toy in the hands of a child, sliding on its side as it twists and tumbles and turns. BANG! The sound is deafening, cracking through my bones and making me slam my sore wrist against my ear as a hundred yards away the locomotive explodes in a terrible bubbling cloud of fire infected with black vines of smoke. Parts of the engine sail sky-high as they are shot from the wreck like fireworks. My eyes trace the trajectory of one particularly misshapen piece.
"Move!" I scream, scrambling to my feet to drag the Wizard backward. I can’t drag him more than a few feet, but it's enough for the scrap of metal to miss him by inches. His chest rises and falls as he claws at my arm, scrambling to his feet away from the burning metal.
We stand there for only a moment, watching as the great roaring fire consumes what remains of the train we had occupied together for the last three days. I don't say anything, simply heading off to where I think south-east is. There was a cabin back that way I had spotted while I stared out the window not five minutes earlier, trying to forget that I had gone back for a man who didn't need saving.
___________________________________________________
The sun has fully set by now, a high and white moon rising in its place, lending a ghostly jade glow to all of the trees. We stop every few minutes as our boots fall through the powdery mix shielded by a thin crust of ice, the cold making even the easiest task of walking utterly exhausting.
I stay beside him, not trusting him to not give up and collapse back into the snow again. If I could, I would shoulder him, but both of our arms are gripped so tight to our bodies, trying to keep what little heat remains in us as the cold sucks the warmth from our faces and causes our noses to run.
It's when I'm ready to give up and let the icy mountain air steal the last of my warmth that I spy the house. It would be generous to call it a house, the moonbeams picking out the old and weathered boards that make up the shack. It can't be more than one room. I couldn't care less, letting myself bolt for it. Anything to get some kind of warmth back into me.
The Wizard calls out to me, but I ignore him. I'm sure he's worried that I'll trip and fall. If I do, I'll just drag myself to the house with the one good hand I have left. The front door is twenty feet away when I hear the growl that turns into a half-human yell. I turn to see the wild cat, his fur a shaggy sand that blended in well enough with the snow that you might miss the black tufts on his ears or the marigold eyes that are now trained on me. He must have been watching us from the thicket of trees to the left.
"Bleeding," he growls. "So far away and bleeding." An Animal, I think.
"Please," I breathe, trying to catch my breath in the thin air. "You don't want to eat me." I slowly walk backward, hoping that I'll get to the cabin and I can then shut the door on him. My eyes, flick to the Wizard and he's too far away. There's no way he'll make it to the cabin before the wild cat gets me.
"Not much to eat up here," he growls. "You, your friend..." He's struggling to form the words and I wonder how long he's been away from humans and society. "Food... month..."
"I can get you food," I say, backing up further. The lynx steps forward with each step I take back. The Wizard is closer, but not close enough. "You could feast like a king."
"Haven't eaten in days," he says. "Better to eat now..."
My legs hit the porch and I tumble, falling onto the rickety structure. The snow is so cold that it burns my hands as I crawl backward, belly up and ripe to be ripped open. I just need to get to the door. The Animal's shoulders are thrown up now, limbs bent and ready to pounce.
"Please," I whisper, knowing that it will do nothing. Maybe it is a prayer to Lurline that my death will be quick and painless under her watchful eye.
The animal yells and leaps but the blood-curdling scream is cut off by an explosion. The lynx tumbles to the side as if a supernatural entity had smacked it away. For a moment, I think Lurline has answered my prayers, and then I see the Wizard draw closer.
He is staggering in the snow, arm outstretched to the animal. The moonlight glints off something in his palm. It's shiny and silver and there is smoke rising from it. I'm not sure what to make of it as I watch the lynx attempt to rise from the snow bank it had been flung into. A second crack of thunder echoes through the valley and the lynx slumps. Blood melts the lifeless snow around him, staining it red with life.
Puffs of steam obscure the horror and I realize just how hard I had been breathing, the wool lapels of my coat rising and falling quickly like billows. I scramble to my feet, throwing myself against the side of the cabin. I want to scream, but I don't know why; the danger is gone. Tears are already wetting my cheeks as I realize how close I was to having my guts spilled into the snow.
The Wizard finally catches up to me, climbing the snow-covered steps to the porch. He's out of breath as he cups my face in his hands. "Are you alright? It didn't get you, did it?" he asks.
"Y-You." My teeth are clacking together, the cold thoroughly ravaging me. "You saved my life."
There are tears in his eyes as he brushes a thumb against my wet cheek. "Yes," his voice breaks. "Of course..." There is nothing else to say. No words can express the sentiment as he presses his lips to my forehead. A kiss, a promise of protection.
As he pulls away I can feel all of the layers of ice I had built up against him, the ideas I had told myself over and over to try and force them to be my reality, shatter and crack. He has nothing to say about saving my life because it has always been a given, even in the ballroom when he took my hand to run and took me on the train with him.
I stand there in the silence of the snow and moonlight and kiss him.
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oceanwithouthermoon · 1 day ago
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I like your saiteru posts but I can't shake the idea that Teruhashi only loves the idea of Saiki and not actually Saiki, especially since she hated when he gave her a glimpse of himself when he was competitive during their date.
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ive seen this take floating around a few times, this whole "teruhashis mental image of saiki is wrong" "teruhashi wouldnt love him if she got to know him" "teruhashi hated any time she saw his REAL personality" and i just dont get it because like...
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this scene?? the scene where hes being inconsiderate, rude, not taking her feelings into account, making her play games she doesnt even want to play, acting like a gooner, etc? THIS is the scene you thought was him showing her a glimpse of what hes really like??? where did you get that from?/genq
hes competitive, yeah, but this… isnt being competitive, its just being an asshole. thats not what hes like when hes trying to win. him wanting to win games and show off with his powers is not equivalent to being an inconsiderate tryhard who wants to make everyone do what he wants with no thought to what they want…
but youre ALSOOOOO forgetting that she actually did end up being like… “hehe i still wuv him 😚” after this…
so.. on THAT note, i need everyone to pay really really close attention to what im about to say…
she loves him when hes rude, inconsiderate, pushy, competitive…
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she loves him when hes open, popular, kind, powerful, reading her mind…
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she loves him when hes gloomy, monotone, boring, quiet…
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she loves him when hes a GIRL.
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so why is the conclusion here “she wouldnt love him for the real him”? the logical conclusion here seems to be “she would love him no matter what”
WHAT ABOUT THAT DOESNT SCREAM “LOVE”?
and regarding her "only loving his persona the same way people only love teruhashis", i think everything above disproves that anyway but i have to go more into it because not only have you misunderstood me but this also implies you think none of saiki and teruhashis friends truly love them at all 😭
saikis quiet, boring self isnt completely not him. its still him, just a different side of him than you might be used to as a viewer. you guys have to understand that although, yes, he is masking and putting up a front, that doesnt mean EVERY part of him that people see is fake 😭 its the same with teruhashi, she doesnt have a single tangible "true" self entirely on the inside and a single tangible "fake" self entirely on the outside, its NOT completely black and white! PEOPLE arent completely black and white!
youre forgetting that me saying those guys (the kokomins and all those gross ew men) dont love her because they dont know and see her was accompanied by a picture of them literally asking her to continue validating them immediately after she woke up from passing out 😭 they quite literally dont love or care about her, not even about her image, they just like the idea of her image and want her to make them feel good. the whole "nobody sees and knows and loves her" doesnt apply in the same way to yumehara and their other friends, they may not truly see her with the same depth that saiki does but that doesnt mean their care for her is fake, because they DONT care more about her image than just her and being in her company even if they do still see the parts of her that ARE fake.
you cant just take the idea that they fake a lot of themselves around others and morph that into "every single thing people see of them is fake and every single thing they dont see is an accurate representation of their true selves", it just doesnt work like that 😭 regardless of saikis power and silliness and sweetness and competitiveness, hes still a quiet guy with a gloomy face. and regardless of teruhashis cuntiness (lol) and competitiveness and obsessiveness and silliness, shes still a sweet girl who enjoys making people happy. they can be BOTH and thats okay!
this misunderstanding is like youre hearing someones thoughts and thinking "oh what a blunt person" like well... no because not everything in your head defines your personality or is something youd ever want or need to say aloud. everyone thinks crazy things, had wrong initial impressions, etc, do you see my point?? am i getting this across properly??? saiki still enjoys sitting in his house and doing nothing but eating coffee jelly and playing video games and teruhashi still enjoys when she makes people happy, those things arent fake just because they contribute to their fake personas... saiki also would not have been singing and doing standup or whatever the hell people are convinced he wouldve been doing at the mixer with someone hes "more comfortable" with, he doesnt do that shit around anyone 😭 not around his family and not around the psychickers, so im not sure where people got the idea that her thinking he would sit there and do nothing was her not understanding him or that the way he was making the guys act was how he truly wants to act 😭 he can sing and crack jokes but he never has around anyone so we dont know if thats what he wants to do, i dont even remember him making jokes aloud to the psychickers other than being a little sassy ☠️ the most i remember is him making short silly jokes to tease his dad or toritsuka... you guys just assume that hes the type of guy to stand up and sing and yell and make everyone roll over laughing because idk... maybe you cant stand the idea that your fav might not be a sexy loud confident alpha male and might actually be a little guy who loves video games and watching people and being a little brat on occasion ☠️
i feel like this take is just you guys taking both their insecurities SUPER seriously, because what else could be making you think that ANYONE who doesnt know about his powers doesnt truly love or care for saiki??
anyway... it clearly just doesnt matter to her how he acts because she just loves him and enjoys his company no matter what. thats love.
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kikyoupdates · 1 day ago
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Goddess Wink ⭑˚💘⭑ 𝑛𝑒𝑤 𝑐𝑙𝑎𝑠𝑠 𝑐𝑢𝑡𝑖𝑒
bnha x f!reader
reverse harem, my hero academia x fem!reader, slowburn
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Ever since your Quirk first manifested, you’ve been the apple of everyone’s eye. With the goal of becoming a hero, you enroll to U.A. and soon find yourself drawing the attention of many. Will you form genuine connections with others, or is this all just your power's will?
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“Sports festival?”
“Come on, we just had that villain attack the other day! Are you sure it’s safe?!”
You had heard of U.A’s Sports Festival, of course. It was one of the biggest events in Japan, with countless spectators and people watching from all around the country—some even from overseas. You’d only missed the first few days of class, but from the looks of it, a ton of things had already happened. Already, the Sports Festival was on its way, and you didn’t even know a thing about any of your classmates.
Goddammit, Mikael.
“The Sports Festival isn’t an event that can be canceled over a few villains,” Aizawa brushed off. “Compared to previous years, there’ll be five times the police presence just in case. Regardless, this event is one of the greatest opportunities you’ll get. The nation’s top heroes will be watching, looking to scout you based on your abilities. Naturally, you’ll gain valuable experience and popularity if you’re picked up by a big-name hero. You only get one shot at this every year, so it’s not something you can afford to miss.”
Some of your classmates were bubbling with excitement, while others had taken up a much more solemn, determined expression. You might have been a bit behind everyone, objectively speaking, but perhaps it would be to your advantage for this event that you’d started late. Nobody really knew what your powers were or how they worked, and even though they were your classmates, technically everyone in this room would be your rival.
Following Aizawa’s announcement came the regular academic classes, but you had a lot to think about. You were able to control your Quirk to the point that it didn’t affect anyone unintentionally, at least for the most part. Mikael had set aside much of his time to train you over the past few years, but even so, you still didn’t have any hands-on experience when it came to using it against a real enemy. The Sports Festival would be a good opportunity for you to test your limits.
Lunchtime came, finally, and you stood up only to realize that you didn’t have anyone to sit with in the cafeteria. You were the new girl. Sure, you could probably charm people and convince them into eating with you, but you didn’t like using your Quirk for trivial things like that.
“Out of the fucking way,” a brash voice growled, and you felt someone roughly slam into your shoulder as they passed you by. You blinked just in time to see your angry blonde desk neighbor glare at you as he walked past. You didn’t know what his deal was. Was he always this angry? Or had he caught on that you’d used your Quirk on him earlier?
Nah, I doubt that he could tell just from that…
You stood there, slightly confused, until you heard another voice call out to you. “[Name]-chan!” a bubbly brunette chirped. Her name was Uraraka, if you recalled. “You’re new here so you still haven’t met everyone properly, right? Do you want to eat with us?”
“Oh,” you smiled. “Yeah, that’d be great—”
“Wait, wait, wait!” The blonde guy with the lightning bolt in his hair quickly interjected. “No fair, trying to hog her all to yourself! I’m Kaminari Denki,” he introduced with a goofy grin. “You’re super pretty! Can I have your number?”
You chuckled. “Sure, I don’t mind.”
“What—really?!” He slapped his palms against his cheeks, incredulous. “No way… a girl this cute actually agreed to give me her number. I was expecting you to reject me flat-out…”
“Kaminari’s already being a sleazeball,” a short-haired girl sighed. “You can ignore him, [Name]. Nobody takes what he says seriously. Ah, I’m Jirou Kyoka, by the way.”
“Jirou, that’s so mean!”
“I was just giving her the facts.”
You hadn’t realized it, but before long, a group of students were crowding around you. Some of them had already left the classroom to go to lunch, but you were slowly making the rounds and getting to know everyone. Kaminari was apparently the class goofball and seemed to be the butt of many jokes, but you thought his awkward flirting was actually pretty cute so you’d gone ahead and given him your number, and while you were at it, exchanged numbers with some of the other students as well.
“I seriously can’t believe it,” Kaminari marveled, staring down at the contact screen of his phone with glossy eyes. “[Name]-chan gave me her number… I could die happy right now.”
“Thanks,” you laughed, “but please don’t die.”
“Are you worried about me? I love you already!”
Jirou had taken to swatting Kaminari’s head, and the other students were still laughing at his foolish little display. You decided to sit with Uraraka and her group after all, since she had been the one to come up to you first. The class president, Iida Tenya, was a very straight-laced character, but you could sense that he did everything out of the goodness of his heart. Then there was the other boy, Midoriya Izuku, the one who sat almost directly behind you in class and had been blushing the whole time he’d been looking at you. He had a meek, innocent nature to him, and you could already tell it wouldn’t take much for your Quirk to affect him.
“Thank you guys for being so welcoming of me,” you smiled as you sat down with your food. “I know I was technically only a few days late, but it feels like so much has already happened and I’ve missed a ton of things.”
Uraraka shook her head. “No, you’ll be fine! Actually, it’s honestly better that you weren’t there for the USJ attack. I don’t mean that in a bad way or anything! It’s just that it was pretty scary, so at least you didn’t have to go something like that.”
Iida nodded. “I agree. While facing off against actual villains serves as excellent learning experience, we were far too under-prepared for such an attack. We still need much more training.”
“[N-Name]-chan,” Izuku piped up, his cheeks flushed and his voice wavering slightly as he spoke to you. “Um… I hope I’m not being rude by asking or anything, but you sort of began mentioning why you started late when you introduced yourself? I mean, what was the reason you couldn’t start on time…?”
“Oh, that. I was in Greece,” you said simply.
“Greece?!”
All three of them had cried out in unison. You chuckled softly. “Yeah, Mikael travels a lot, and he brings me along with him often. Ah—Mikael is my legal guardian. I was raised in an orphanage, but I’ve been living with him for the last ten years.”
“So you travel a lot,” Uraraka breathed. “That’s so cool. My family could never really afford to go anywhere fancy, so I’ve never actually left Japan…”
You spooned a helping of your lunch into your mouth. “Yeah, so that’s basically it. Nothing too special. Besides the USJ attack, which was obviously a really big deal, was there anything else important that I’ve missed?”
“Well…” The brunette twisted her brows into a knot. “Aizawa-sensei threatened us with expulsion on our very first day, but that turned out to be a lie.”
“Hold up, what?”
“There was the trial of battle,” Iida declared. “The three of us here faced off against one another, where one side was acting as the heroes and the other as the villains. I, for some reason, was drawn to play the part of the villain! But I did my best to stick to the role for the sake of training. However, Bakugou and I still ended up losing against Midoriya and Uraraka…”
You pursed your lips. “Bakugou…”
“Kacchan’s the angry one. You sit next to him in class,” Izuku said, and you noticed the way his expression shifted.
“His name is Kacchan?”
“Erm, no—that’s just what I call him!” he said hurriedly. “His actual name is Katsuki, but I’ve called him that ever since we were kids, so… it just kind of stuck.”
“Oh, I see. The two of you are childhood friends?”
“N-No…” The atmosphere drastically shifted, and both Iida and Uraraka exchanged hesitant looks. Izuku was nervously running his fingers through his curly hair. “We used to be at some point… I guess? But that’s when we were really young. Now, my relationship with Kacchan’s just as bad as it can get. He can’t even stand being around me, and he says nasty things to me pretty much all the time.”
You slumped your shoulders, feeling a bit guilty. “I see. Sorry about jumping to conclusions.”
“I-It’s not your fault, [Name]-chan! You couldn’t possibly have known…”
“I suggest you keep your distance from him,” Iida advised. “He has an extremely volatile temperament. He doesn’t get along with anyone in the class.”
This Katsuki or “Kacchan” guy sounded just as bad as the impression he’d first given off. He’d been glaring at you outright even before you’d used your powers on him, which was strange, considering that ever since you’d obtained your Quirk people looked at you just the opposite. Come to think of it, you remembered him leaving the classroom for lunch all on his own. Did he really not have any friends? You felt kind of bad.
You decided to change the topic to something more pleasant, and you spent the remainder of lunch getting to know each other better. The bell eventually rang, and it was time to head back to class. You leaned over Izuku’s shoulder as he stood up from the table.
“I can tease him a bit if you want,” you whispered.
“Eek!” Izuku jolted the second your breath hit his neck, flushing an impossible shade of red. You’d never seen such a crazy reaction from someone without even using your Quirk. “W-What are you doing, [Name]-chan…?”
“Hm?” you smiled. “I just mean I can tease him, to get back at him for being mean to you. With my powers, I mean.”
“With your powers…?” he blinked. “But… how?”
You pressed a finger to your lips, smiling coyly. “That’s a secret. But just say the word and I’ll do it.”
The freckled boy stared at you in confusion, but you walked away before he could ask for an explanation. It was back to regular classes after lunch, but you knew you’d have to start putting together a game plan with the Sports Festival approaching.
Before you knew it, the school day was over.
“Whoa! What’s with all the people?”
You’d been all packed up and ready to head home for the day, only to find that a massive crowd of students was blocking the exit of the classroom. There was a ton of them—no doubt from all kinds of departments across campus. You heard someone let out a snort of derision and looked over to see Katsuki striding forward with his hands in his pockets. He kept you in the corner of his periphery, glaring all the while.
“Of course, you weren’t even here, so you don’t know shit about the situation,” he scoffed. “It’s obvious all these assholes are here to scope out the competition. They wanna get a nice good look at the class who survived the villain attack before the Sports Festival. But it’s pointless to try.” He turned towards the horde of students. “Fuck off, you goddamn mob.”
Does he kiss his mother with that mouth?
As was the normal reaction, the students began spewing insults and calling him names. Among them all, a single boy had waded to the very front and was looking Katsuki down with nothing but disappointment. He had tousled indigo hair and distinct dark circles under his eyes.
“I came to take a look at the students from the hero course, but I’ve gotta say, I’m a little disillusioned. Is everyone as conceited as you?”
“Huh?!”
“You know,” the boy went on, “there are quite a few of us who didn’t make the hero course and are stuck in things like the General Department. Depending on the results of this Sports Festival, it’s possible that to be transferred into the hero course. And of course, the reverse is also possible for you guys. Basically, what I’m trying to say is that for someone like me, this’ll be the perfect chance to knock you off your glorified pedestals. Consider this a declaration of war.”
You let out a whistle. “So bold! I kind of like that in a guy, though.”
“[N-Name]-chan?”
Others from the crowd were chiming in now, and it was clear that Katsuki’s little declaration had done more harm than good. Well, he had called them a mob, after all.
“Dude!” the redhead, Kirishima groaned. “Look what you’ve done! You went ahead and made us a bunch of enemies!”
Katsuki looked over his shoulder. His gaze met yours once more, and his crimson eyes narrowed. “It doesn’t matter. None of that shit matters once you reach the top.” With those as his parting words, he shoved his way through the crowd and left your bewildered classmates behind. He was a character, that was for sure, but there was some truth to what he’d said. Winning… you wanted to experience something like that, too.
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“I’m back,” you yawned, slipping your backpack off the second you stepped through the door. Home, sweet home. You could hear an excited little squeal coming from one of the other rooms and you smiled. It looked like Rui was working today.
“My precious baby [Name]!” she enthused, jumping onto you, and wrapping you in a bear-hug. “How was your first day? Tell me everything!”
You hugged her back and giggled. “I will, I will. I’ll tell you what happened over dinner, but for now I just want to take a shower and get changed.”
She clasped your hands into hers, brown eyes wide and glossy. “Did you meet any cute boys?”
“Some of them were pretty cute, yeah.”
“Who was the cutest?”
“Hmm,” you frowned. “There was a blonde guy with spiky hair that was really attractive, but his personality kind of cancels it out. There’s another guy that has messy hair and looks a little sleep-deprived, but in a hot way, you know? Oh—and there’s this one guy that has curly hair and freckles and is all shy and cute.”
Rui began squealing and hopping up and down. “Date them!” she cried out. “Date them all! If it’s you, you can do it! You can get a hundred boyfriends, no problem!”
“Do I really need a hundred boyfriends, though?”
“Don’t underestimate the importance of a boyfriend,” Rui said, suddenly very somber and serious. “You need to enjoy your youth while you still can. Otherwise, before you know it, you’ll be in graduate school and still single… ugh.”
You rolled your eyes at her. “I think you’re blowing this whole thing out of proportion. You don’t need a relationship to have fun. Don’t let those assholes get to your head.”
“Easy for you to say, Mrs. Goddess of Love!”
“Right, right,” you sighed. “Don’t worry, we can look at memes later and you can tell me all about what douchebag it was this time.”
“Please! I’ll probably cry a lot, though!”
You chuckled softly as you walked off. A lot had happened in just your first day. There were a lot of people for you to get to know and preparing for the Sports Festival alone was a big ask. You were kind of craving something sweet right now. Maybe you’d raid Mikael’s stash later.
You just wanted to take a hot shower and relax—
“Um.”
Well, this was a development. You’d just set foot in your room, and for whatever reason, there was a stranger on your bed. A young man, by the looks of things, probably around eighteen years old. Maybe even a high-schooler. He had silvery-white hair, golden eyes, and he had visible scars on his neck, which poked out from underneath the loose collar of his shirt. Yeah, okay. You’d definitely never seen this guy before, but his eyes lit up with glee the second he caught sight of you.
“[Name]! You’re here!”
“Who the fuck—”
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xxnashiraxx · 3 days ago
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✨Ali's Birthday Bash! #13✨
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Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11
Okay so I went MIA yesterday- I just really needed an extra bit of time on this one!! I now have 11 LEFT!! WOOOHOOO!! 💕 I didn't forsee these going so long, but I have a lot of people I love and that's a good problem to have 😊💗 Anywho- on to the next!
divider here!
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Effy (for @bloodinwine)
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Ahh, Effy. Pretty bard and heartbreaker. Beautiful, vibrant, so full of life- I love her so much, and I have never been so sucked into a story as I have with Until You. I've gone on many a tangent about Until You and have yapped about it profusely, and honestly? Don't think that's ever gonna change. I will try to keep it to a minimum here, but I'm so happy my amazing friends introduced me to it because I genuinely feel so many emotions while reading it that I haven't even felt in published work, that's just how powerful it is. (okay shutting up now!)
June! I hope you like her! I tried my best here and I'm crossing my fingers that it shows! I think I had most fun on (surprise) the make-up and this time I really enjoyed the hair!! I treasure Effy so much and I cross my fingers that I've done her justice!! You are such a kind person, so talented, and so encouraging and lovely ❤ I'm so glad I've found your works, but even more so, I am grateful for the kindness you've shown me. I never expected to receive anything in return, but the sweet surprise of getting to interact with you and engage here has been something I am incredibly grateful for and I will always grin ear to ear when you tag me in something. I'm a sap, I'm sorry!
I hope you have a lovely new year, and I'm so excited to read more of your writings this year!! 💗😊
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ELEVEN MORE BAYBEE 💕 I'm so excited for what this year will bring, and I'm excited for my next portraits!! I honestly will probably have to take the next few days off to breathe- I've been going non-stop every day with art and I need a lil break. I should be back on the weekend!! Love you all, gn and mwah!! 💕😘
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