#i really am proud of the m&l universe though..

[musubiki]

I just spent two and a half hours reading every mochi tagged post and that is the -good stuff-. I just have two questions-- when does mochi get cat ears, do the rest of the gang get powers, and can we draw ocs

SHDHSJS THATS A WHOLE LOTTA POSTS IVE DONE THANK YOU FOR LOOKING AT THEM!!!!!! (im really proud of the universe/characters/lore so far eheheheh) 

mochi gets cat ears once a month!! im thinking maybe on new moon nights, from dusk to dawn, but theres also the possibility i might make it irregular too!!! (because i cant stop thinking about mochi getting her cat ears in the middle of the school days so lime gives her his jacket and baseball hat to hide her tail and ears)

SECONDLY, ITS ACTUALLY IN BETA WHETHER OR NOT THE KIDS ARE GONNA GET THEIR OWN POWERS……. because the second arc (post timeskip) deals a lot with irregularities in the magic, so it might make the spells on the cursed objects evolve on its own into a newer stronger kind of magic that can be used without the objects!!! (lime with built in lightning fists??? yeah) (with the exception of oscar since his object wont really be a ‘cursed object’ and taffy because he never had an object) 

AND LASTLY YES!!!!! YOU CAN DEFINITELY DRAW THEM!!!!

[caiuscassiuss]

Birched⎮D. Sicheng (M) P.2

Description: There was something that lurked beneath that pretty boy smile of Dong Sicheng— something dark, something dangerous… something you knew you would get pulled into once you got too curious. (Or, your ill-tempered coworker turns out to be your dominant.)

Part One is HERE 

Genre: BDSM/ enemies to lovers winwin! smut | romance | angst WC: 11k+ Warnings: graphic smut (dom! sicheng + sub! reader, BDSM (Bondage, Dominance, Submission, and Masochism) choking, rough sex), taboo relationship, blatant sexism, TW: mentions of an abusive relationship

(A/N: Thank you to my amazing beta @won-markiepooh-woo​ for helping me. This wouldn’t have been possible without you!)

Saturday February 1st, 2020

Y/N’s Apartment

10 AM HKT

The little jingle of a FaceTime call echoed through your silent apartment, and you snuggled into the sheets of your bed.

“Hello? Kun huang?”

A flash black hair and a sweet smile appeared within the view of the camera.

“Huang Gua!” you exclaimed.

Instantly, the happy smile slipped off his face and transformed into an annoyed expression.

“Can you not? We’ve been over this,” he complained.

“Oh come on! It’s so funny,” you jibed.

“It’s not.”

“You only used to eat cucumbers for years. You earned that name yourself.”

“So?” he snorted. “You used to eat shrimp chips as a kid. I don’t call you shrimp, do I?” A devious expression flashed over his face.

“Kun Huang…” you warned.

“Maybe I should start now. Right, shrimp?”

“Oh my god, stop!”

“No, shrimp. I can keep going, you know.”

“Okay, fine, fine. I submit!” You laughed.

He chuckled. “That’s what I thought.”

“So how are you now, Hendery? How’s your mom and dad? Oh my gosh, Hengwai!”

“I’m doing fine, as are mom and dad. Hengwai misses her little sister. They all want you to call them more. Sometimes I think they miss you more than me.” He pouted.

“Awww, poor baby. But give them my well wishes too! I miss everyone so much,” you said. For some reason, tears welled in your eyes.

Obviously, Hendery could tell you were about to start crying and started to panic.

“Y/N? Talk to me. Oh, you know I can’t take it if you start crying!”

He never really could. Even after many years spent together in your childhood, he was still awkward as hell around your tears.

You waved him off, swiping the tears. “I’m fine, I’m fine. It’s just so lonely around here.”

“Y/N…”

“I’m fine! I swear!”

“Literally, one word and I’m on a flight to Hong Kong. I’m not playing,” he said gravely.

“Hendery, no. Besides, don’t you have some farms to run? I would never expect you to do that.”

“One word, Y/N. Just one.” He looked you dead in the eye. 

You looked away. “Anyways, how are your farms going?”

A smile split his face and his eyes sparked. “Guess who just got their hundredth farm?”

Your jaw dropped. “No way, you’re fucking joking! One hundred?! I’m so proud of you! Kun Huang!” you squealed.

“Yeah, I know right? It’s so weird knowing so many people depend on me for their livelihoods now. I get sort of scared when I sit back and think about it…”

As Kun Huang went on about his day to day troubles in agriculture, a small, wistful smile played upon your lips. Why didn’t you just stay back and fall in love with Kun Huang? It would have been so easy. Being with Kun Huang was like breathing, and you could’ve spent the rest of your life like this. No Minghao, no BDSM, and most importantly, no… him.

Dolos.

Master?

Sicheng.

You hated how smoothly the puzzle pieces fit together. Sicheng always left early on Fridays, even though he always stayed late. At office parties, he lacked a significant other by his side, even when many would drop everything if he so much as winked at them.

It was hard not to think about him. You had started to feel an increase in your heartbeat whenever you thought of Dolos before Wednesday. You had originally wanted to know who was behind Dolos’ mask and if he returned those feelings. But, fuck, he would be so mad if he found out who you were.

Not to mention, how humiliating it would be if he knew. You had staked everything on being a cold-hearted bitch when Sicheng took particular pleasure in sneering at “the inherent submissiveness” of her gender. So if he found out Dove, who liked to be slapped during sex, and her, the la dame sans merci of the company, were the same person, it would destroy any chance of credibility you may have had in his eyes.

This was all one big mess. One big, gigantic and catastrophic mess. For so long you had rigorously kept your professional and personal lives apart, but the universe had conspired against you: to make the best dominant you ever had to also be your work nemesis.

Some higher being was laughing at you, you knew it.

Sunday February 2nd, 2020

The Dong Family Villa on the Shek O Peninsula, Hong Kong

1 PM HKT

A curl of disgust twisted his lips as he looked down on the lawn party going down below him. 

“Don’t you look happy, Sicheng.”

Sicheng acknowledged ChengCheng out of the corner of his eye and went back to glaring at the party in contempt.

“This is not how I wanted today to go.”

His childhood friend snorted and plopped himself down in a lawn chair, contemplating the blond haired man.

Sicheng spun around and picked up his glass of wine, downing the drink in one gulp. He settled himself next to ChengCheng with a frown.

“I just wanted to come here and fucking relax, but, no, my parents just had to use it for the fucking party. Fete. What-fucking-ever.” He exhaled loudly and ran his hands through his hair. 

Chengcheng looked over the balcony railing curiously. “Looks like a luncheon to me.”

“Fuck off.” 

“Christ, what’s up your ass?”

“Just some work stuff. It’s nothing.”

The brown-haired man frowned. “Then why aren’t you at Black’s then? Nothing can’t be resolved by a good fuck.”

At the mention of the club, a pained expression flashed over Sicheng’s face and his knuckles inadvertently tightened around the stem of his glass. The tension that had been in shoulders wounded itself up even more and this clued ChengCheng in.

Something other than work had Sicheng in knots. Very rarely did the blond man ever show he was angry—not even when his father lashed him as a child, nor when the family forced him to work for the company—so he was evidently very troubled by this ‘something’.

Sicheng’s phone rang and broke the silence. The man himself fished it out of his back pocket irritatedly.

“Excuse me for a moment, ChengCheng. I need to take this phone call.”

“Sicheng speaking,” he spoke as he stalked into the study.

“Hello sir, how are you—”

“Did you get the information or not?” Sicheng asked, cutting off the family’s retainer. His leg bounced, as he sat against the desk and he ran a weary hand through his hair.

“A-ah, unfortunately, Black’s doesn’t record pseudonyms digitally or on paper…”

“Fuck!” Sicheng yelled. Mr. Lau just had to be fucking careful, he thought irritably.

“... However, sir, I was able to obtain a membership list since the club was digitally updating their monthly list. I then compared it to the list from the previous month and found several missing names, indicative of them terminating their membership. I have compiled a dossier of several females that match your description of Dove and forwarded it to you.” 

Sicheng quickly logged into his laptop, his blood rushing through his ears. The identity of the most perfect submissive he’s ever had could literally be sitting in his inbox right now.

With trembling fingers, he opened the attachment.

Wang Fang, age 25—

“Sir?”

The blond man glared at his phone. “Thank you for your service, Liu Wei. Goodbye.”

Wang Fang was a tall, spindly woman with a face like a horse. The policy of privacy by masks was kind to her at Black’s. However, the jaw was all wrong and he knew in his gut she was not his Dove.

He scrolled to the next page. Leila Williams, age 27—British expat, was absolutely gorgeous. But, even through the screen, she exuded an unshakable aura of self-assurance. A dominatrix, probably, so that excluded her from his search.

He went through 2 or 3 more documents; each one too plain or too ordinary to be Dove.

Y/N L/N, age XX.

Sicheng blinked rapidly, sagging into his office chair.

Y/N is—was—a member at Black’s?

The picture provided was the one from her LinkedIn profile: a professional headshot with a grey background. She was smiling tightly, coldly—just as she was in the office. The other image provided instantly tented his pants.

It was her, clearly on a night out. She was in attire that flattered her body and he could easily see himself running his hands over her. Y/N looked fucking fantastic with her unbound hair, so unlike her tight updos at the office. However, what drew his eyes was the most vibrant shade of red painted on her lips, which was parted slightly as she was laughing.

He recognized that lipstick. The same shade of firetruck red had been smeared across Dove’s cheeks many, many times. YSL Rouge Satin Lipstick—the one he told her he liked and she, like a good girl, had religiously worn.

Could that mean…?

Glancing at the side bar, he noticed there was one more page left in the dossier. Please let the next one be Dove…

His hopes were instantly deflated. Kwon Myunghee was too old and too artificial to be his gorgeous submissive.

With his heart in his throat, he scrolled back to Y/N’s page. Enlarging the picture of her laughing, he put a hand over her eyes and leaned back to observe.

Sicheng would be an absolute fool if he did not recognize that mouth. Red fuck me! lipstick on an equally fuckable mouth parted in pleasure, or screaming his name while strung up on a cross. He would be an absolute fool if he did not recognize that neck, covered in purple and red hickies or his fingermarks. An absolute damn fool.

Yet, at this moment, he would’ve given anything to be one.

He felt like the wind had been knocked out of him. Y/N was… Dove? And Dove… was Y/N?

So why did she leave? How did she end up at Black’s? Did she know? Did she end up there on purpose? Why—

Eventually, all the questions piled up in his head until he was left winded. Sicheng buried his head in his hands, pulling at his blond locks and breathing heavily. Something was bubbling in his chest and—

He started to laugh. He cackled, howled, at his shitstorm of misfortune, luck, and confusion until he was sprawled undignified on the Oriental carpet, staring up at the intricate wood carvings on the ceiling.

Monday February 3rd, 2020

Sinochen Enterprises, Chater House, Central, Hong Kong

6 PM HKT

Shutting the door to your office, you collapsed into your chair and massaged your temples.

Today was the day Mr. Lee had left the office, leaving his official resignation. The top sales officials (including an off-color, brooding Sicheng) gathered in his office to congratulate him and give him an official goodbye. What was supposed to be a quick meet-up turned into afternoon drinking when Mr. Lee pulled out the good liquor from a secret cabinet underneath his desk. You accepted a drink with a grimace, but Sicheng declined and remained uncharacteristically detached the entire time. Granted, you too were detached from the conversation, uncomfortable with the lewd retirement and mistress jeers spouted by the older sales officials as they steadily got drunker and less inhibited.

As the time ended and a consensus to leave had been reached, you thought you could escape and actually work... that was until Mr. Lee walked alongside you and stuck himself in the elevator with you.

The bastard had the audacity to grope your ass in the crowded elevator. You shivered, remembering the awful and grimy feeling as his hot breath whispered in your ear that he was available any time for a “catch-up”.

This day was a mess. You had a shit-ton of work to catch up due to that fucking meeting and you had been sexually harrassed; you were also anxious about the promotion and, on top of that, you couldn’t seem to stop thinking about Sicheng.

Huffing, you ate some red-bean bread as you powered up your desktop. This was fucking ridiculous. You knew Sicheng had noticed your odd, reticent behavior around him and this skittishness was impeding your ability to work. Well, no better way to forget about your problems was to solve other ones at work.

For the next two hours, you slogged through work emails and analytics as the sun set over Kowloon Bay. Your hair had been unbound and your blazer had been messily thrown over the back of your chair as your work progressed. Since most of the office had left by now, you figured it was safe to relax in your office.

It was night time by the time you had finished your last project and you sat back in your chair, staring at the skyline. Was this how your life destined to be? At the top, surrounded by the comforts of life, but alone?

A knock sounded at the door, jolting you out of your thoughts.

Who the fuck would be at the office at 8 PM?

“Come in.”

You caught sight of a golden head of hair slipping inside of your office and you sighed. Of course, it was Sicheng.

He took a seat unbidden and stared at you with an indecipherable expression on his face. His eyes roamed the contours and curves of your features.

You arched an eyebrow. “Can I help you with anything, Sicheng? I’m about to leave the office.”

He fought with himself inwardly, his mouth opened and closed several times before he finally settled on what he wanted to say. “I’d like to ask a question.”

You adjusted yourself in the chair. “Feel free.”

From his blazer’s pocket, he pulled out an aged sheet of paper and slowly opened it, before setting it in front of you. Sicheng settled back in his chair and steepled his fingers over his lap, the lights of the Hong Kong skyline playing across his face and making his sharp features stand out.

“Do you recognize this?”

The blood literally froze in your veins as your eyes caught sight of your handwriting in the letter, along with the tear-stains that blotched the paper and the text. Your heartbeat rose to your throat and all you felt was the blood rushing in your ears.

“Y/N?” he prodded.

You gulped and straightened out your top, your fingers trembling as you did so.

“No, I don’t. W-who’s Dolos? Why does this concern me?” you lied, stumbling a bit.

He watched you, his eyes narrowed and his lips pursed.

“Don’t lie to me, Dove.”

“I-Dove? My name is Y/N,” you replied shakily. Grabbing your purse, you hurriedly stuffed all your personal belongings in while avoiding catching his seething stare. “Excuse me, I’d really like to get home.”

His jaw clenched and his palm twitched as he saw you had no desire to come clean.

“Look at me.”

Unthinking, you ceased all movements, put your trembling hands in your lap and looked up at him. “Sir?”

Your eyes widened and you slapped a hand over your mouth; your eyes darted around the room in search for an escape. You felt akin to a caged animal as he grinned meanly, incongruous on his cherubic features.

“That’s what I thought.”

“No—”

“You thought you could get away with this? You thought you could fucking play me?!”

You were aghast at seeing Dolos and Sicheng finally merging together in front of your eyes, and the result was grotesquely beautiful. His grin slipped off his face and twisted into a malevolent sneer. The naked fire in Dolos' gaze was finally unveiled in Sicheng’s eyes and, for the first time, you could see who Sicheng really was.

“Answer me, Dove—Y/N! Fuck, I don’t even know who you are anymore!” Sicheng shouted, running his hands through his hair while he paced around your office.

You stared unblinkingly at the bookshelf at the corner of the room. Fuck, this was all your nightmares coming true. You were going to be ruined and he was going to laugh on and on now that he knew you and Dove were the same.

“It was never supposed to end up like this,” you whispered hoarsely, tears welling up underneath your lashes.

“How was it supposed to end, huh? Fuck, you strung me along for six months—half a fucking year—”

“I didn’t fucking know, you ass! I wouldn’t have touched you with a ten foot pole if I knew who you were!” you hissed.

He laughed harshly. “You did a hell of a lot more than touch me, Dove. But after you got your fix, you pretended that this never happened.”

“You would’ve done the same, so this never did happen. Walk out right now and this will have never happened and we can go back to our normal, spiteful dynamic—”

“You’re out of your fucking mind, if you think—”

“You don’t understand, Sicheng! Can’t you see I’ll be ruined by this? That we’ll both be ruined by this? I can’t afford that!”

“So you thought to just leave me? With just a fucking letter and nothing else?”

“I didn’t know, okay! I didn’t know what to do!”

“You lied to me, Y/N. Fucking lied to my face!”

“I had to! Because you and I were never supposed to find out!”

Sicheng moved to yell, but clamped his jaw shut. “You lying, cheating, slut,” he seethed.

Your mouth trembled for a moment at the sheer vitriol that sprouted from his lips, but you stood tall. “You know what? Maybe I am. But I can live with that if you’d just fucking let it go!”

“You think I’d be able to let go of this?!” He cupped your jaw roughly and pulled you into a hungry kiss.

It wasn’t a smooth kiss—not one with even a hint of finesse. Lips smashed into lips, with tongue and teeth grappling against each other as his hands bruised your wrists.

Your back hit your desk and he swept your belongings off the desk haphazardly, letting go of your chin to lift you onto the desk with no effort.

“Forget my tongue on your skin? Forget my hands in between your thighs?” he murmured between hungry dips of his tongue. “I’ll fucking show you.”

He kissed down your neck, stopping to nip at your collarbone, and left a trail of stinging lovebites all over your shoulders. Sicheng’s hips pinned you into the desk as he popped each button of your blouse, hurriedly ripping it to the side to leave more hickies upon your chest and breasts.

You moaned as he pushed the cups of your bra down, using his wicked tone to swipe complicated patterns but never once touching your tips. Finally, he nipped at them hard causing you to squeal embarrassingly.

“S-sicheng,” you whimpered, gripping his hair as he pushed up your skirt.

The blond man carelessly pulled your underwear aside and thrusted two fingers in.

“Fuck!” you gasped, as you buried your red face in the crook of his neck.

You couldn’t see it, but you knew he was smirking smugly so your hands drifted down to his tented trousers and gripped his erection hard.

“You wanna fucking play? Let’s play, baby,” he grunted and hastily unbuckled his belt. His glorious cock sprung up in the space between your thighs.

Sicheng pushed your back down onto the desk, leaving him to tower over you. Without warning, he roughly pushed his cock into your slit.

You both groaned at the pleasurable friction. Fuck, how could you forget this? His length stretching you out deliciously? His broad shoulders heaving in exertion?

He bottomed out slowly, stilling as his hips pressed into yours. A sly smile glanced over his face as his hand drifted over your neck.

“Sicheng! You asshole, fucking move!” you said to him, thrusting your own hips weakly for effect.

His devilish smile split his angelic features, and he shook his head. “Wrong name, Dove.”

His hips pushed into yours roughly and you whined, scratching at the edges of your desk. Sicheng withdrew just as quickly and thrusted in again, watching the lust ripple upon your expression. He had missed the way your left eyebrow ticked when he brushed against your G-Spot, your nose scrunching as you clasped his shoulders. Finally seeing your full expressions fulfilled something in him that he didn’t care to reflect upon.

After deep, staccato thrusts that had you gasping for breath, he settled into a smooth rhythm. You slapped a hand over your mouth as your back bowed, thrusting your breasts up to his hungry perusal. Unable to resist temptation—the godless Tantalus he was—he settled his plump lips over your nipples, raised his eyes to yours, and sucked.

Even with your palm practically stuffed in your lips, your keen echoed around the room loudly and slick dripped down your thighs, making the desk underneath your bottom sticky and wet.

He tsked, lifting his head up and looked deeply into your eyes. A slight grin settled over his lips and Sicheng tilted his head mockingly. “Oh sweet girl, haven’t you forgotten we’re in an office?” His eyes darkened even more. “I’ll have to keep you quiet, then, whore.”

His featherlight touches on your rib cage was replaced with a bruising grasp to your throat, stealing the air out of you. His wrist settled into your collar bone and his slender fingers mimicked playing the piano, placing pressure on different parts on your throat to an unheard rhythm. The blood rushed to your ears, the dizzying sensation of it blurring your sight and distorting your thoughts. The veins on his forehand, twisting and rippling in the light, caught your vision and he moved—ever so roughly—into you.

Sicheng set a new pace, stretching your legs even wider and your head fell back onto the desk with a thunk. You couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe; you just felt the numbing sort of pleasure that radiated from your pussy.

“Fucking slut,” he gasped. “You’ve bewitched me, haven’t you? Wrapped yourself around my brain and haven’t let me so much as breathe without thinking about you.” His grip tightened around your neck. “I’ll show you.”

Suddenly, your phone on the floor rang and you both froze. He released the grip on your neck and bent down.

His back was like one of those old sketches the masters of the age practiced with, the light played upon his back and his muscles rippled under his skin—belying the power hidden within him.

“Who the fuck is Kunhuang,” he said flatly, wrath bubbling in his words.

You sat up. “H-he’s a friend. Nobody. No one.” 

“See you soon, love,” he read mockingly. “Call me when you have time.”

Sicheng crowded into your space, your eyes jumping around to avoid looking at his incensed face.

“Kunhuang.” He spat like it was filth upon his lips. “You left me for him?”

Feeling his constrained fierceness and his frantic gaze, you pushed harshly at his chest and bared your teeth at him. “It’s not like that. He’s my childhood friend!”

His rage bubbled to the surface and his nostrils flared. It was all the warning you had before he suddenly took your hips and flipped, forcing a scream out of you.

Your chest and breasts now pressed against your desk. Sicheng tugged you down to his hips, lifting one of your legs to rest on your desk and exposed your core to him shamefully. 

“I’ll take you from behind like the whore you are,” he stated. His rough tenor the grating upon your ears and scraping upon your skin.

He lined up and thrusted hard and you bit your lip, cheek against your deck and tears streaming down your face. It felt so good to be in his embrace, feeling every vein and ridge of his cock rub against your muscles.

Soon, you felt that feeling rising in your stomach, burning behind his eyelids as your orgasm began to build. His hands grasped your throat and he pulled, bowing your back to his chest and forcing his mouth to yours.

Teeth and tongue clashed and his cock hit this spot in you and you screamed into his mouth, tensing up beneath him as you shuddered painfully.

A grunt left him as he felt your muscles nearly strangle his cock and he only lasted a few, staccato thrusts until his vision went white.

Wednesday, February 13th, 2020

Sinochen Enterprises, Chater House, Central, Hong Kong

7 AM HKT

You purposely did not look into Sicheng’s office window as you strode briskly down the hall with a coffee in your hand. 

A few days ago felt like a watershed moment, but after you two had caught your breaths, the sheer amount of emotions in the room—frustration, satiation, anger, hunger—weighed upon your lips and forced them shut. He had quickly dressed himself, not saying a word, but he casted a glance in your direction that was undecipherable and left.

You, at the moment, did not know how to feel. Hurt? Angry? Sad? But you settled upon your usual solution: ignoring that anything had happened and resuming the normal.

Alas, the fates were unkind. They neatly disposed of your plans to avoid the man when the two of you were scheduled to meet with other sales heads in the afternoon. Unfortunately, when the time came to be, you and Sicheng were the first ones there.

He studiously avoided looking at you, busying himself by opening up his laptop and flipping to a new page on his legal pad. You ignored him as well, scrolling through the latest news on your webpage. However, as the seconds ticked by, you could not resist resting your eyes upon him. It felt like a damn magnet was pulling your gaze to him.

He looked good today, from the brief glances you stole at him. Freshly shaven, his hair was styled neatly and he was in a dark green, cashmere sweater. Was this your fate? To be shamefully attracted to a man that equally repelled you?

“Interesting.”

The both of you shot a look at the door, where an unrecognizable, lanky man with a proud, straight nose was peering down upon you and swinging a plastic bag in his hand.

“Chengcheng? What the hell are you doing here?”

Completely ignoring Sicheng, he settled his lidded gaze upon you before his eyes lit up in recognition.

“So you’re the one that has shaken him, then.”

Dead silence permeated the room. He looked at the two shocked faces, both ashen. “What? Are you going to tell me I’m wrong? Please. I’d have to be deaf, blind, and dumb to ignore the way you two gravitate to each other.”

Your two quick glances that were meant to be unnoticed clashed, resulting in your eyes meeting. You both turned your eyes away.

Chengcheng snorted, as if that moment confirmed everything for him, and he chucked a bag at Sicheng.

“You forgot your lunch, remember?”

Sicheng’s jaw tightened. “Thank you.”

Once again, awkward silence reigned and ChengCheng’s eyes switched back and forth between you like a particularly exciting tennis match.

“You two need to talk. You’ll both age prematurely at this rate, with the angst you two are producing. Talk.”

He left with a wave, striding down the hall casually and stealing many of your female coworkers’ gazes.

“... He’s right, you know.”

Sicheng’s eyes flicked up to yours and he focused his full attention on you. Intensely, he contemplated you, tongue poking at the sides of his mouth.

“I agree. We can meet—” he cut himself off, looking around surreptitiously. “—at Black’s.”

You sucked your lip in between your teeth. “Fine. Neutral ground.”

He took a good, long look at you, like a man seeing water after seeing nothing but sand. 

“Tonight. At 8.”

Thursday, February 13th, 2020

Black’s

7:50 PM HKT

Strangely enough, you felt comfortable despite the jittery nerves under your skin as you walked into Black’s. 

The receptionist had given you a knowing look as you repeated the guest password, letting you in without question. You strapped on the standard, white lace mask and steeled yourself, opening the mahogany doors.

The club was abnormally busy; the guests and members crowded the couches and loitered on the floor. The quiet string music that could usually be heard was masked by the loud chattering of the people in the room.

“Is that you, Dove?”

You spun around to see the smiling, wizened face of Mr. Liu.

A grin broke out on your face and you took his hands. “Mister Liu! It is wonderful to see you.”

“I am happy to see you as well.” He chuckled with his eyes gleaming fondly at you. “Have you decided to visit this old man?”

Playfully, you lightly smacked his shoulder.

Mr. Liu was an important figure to you. All those months ago, when you arrived at Black’s to be screened, as a potential member and straight out of a relationship with Minghao—broken, shattered, hollow—he took one look at you and said no.

Why? You remembered asking tearfully. Am I not pretty enough? Rich enough?

He searched your pale, wan face, as if seeing the emotional scars Minghao had lashed into you, before sighing.

You shouldn’t be asking me that. Are you enough for yourself?

Confused, you had asked him to elaborate. He sympathetically replied that he could see you were entering the club for the wrong reasons. You were different, he’d said. You looked so innocent that he could not morally allow you into the club, despite the depraved patrons that gained membership. He knew, at the time, entering the club would cripple you.

So, what now? You asked, confused. He said he would keep your file open until you came back ‘at the right time.’

The ‘right time?’

You will know it when it comes.

And somehow, you did. After a few months of picking the pieces of yourself together and stabilizing your life, you had grown into a physically and emotionally healthy person. The “right moment” came and you sat in his quaint little office again, opposite of a smiling Mr. Liu as he stamped his approval.

After chatting a few moments, the volume in the room increased slightly and you frowned.

“Why is it so busy today?”

He arched an eyebrow. “Do you know what today is?”

“No?”

“Today is the evening before Valentine’s day, dear girl.”

“... Oh.”

New information in hand, you looked at the scene more closely. You could see that some couples in the crowd seemed to curl into each other, the affectionate brushes and knowing glances giving you a sick, sick feeling.

And that’s when you saw Sicheng.

Even masked, he drew attention from the members—attached and non-attached. His lean, fit form struck a figure and you couldn’t turn away from him.

He looked directly into your eyes and only a few seconds passed by as you two observed each other.

“Sicheng somehow found out, hm? Clever, devious boy.” Mr. Liu observed the dynamic much like ChengCheng earlier. His gaze was enraptured how the two of you clashed yet sunk into each other, the way two tidal waves—in a rare moment of offbeat rhythm—struck each other and subsequently merged. Push, pull, push, pull.

“Listen to him and he will listen to you. You two match more than you think,” he advised, bowed, and sunk off into the backrooms.

“Sicheng.”

“Y/N.”

Frustratingly, his face was unreadable. Nevertheless, he offered you his arm (a surprising show of manners) and he led you to a place you had never seen before.

This place was much less pristine than the rest of the club. The wallpaper was older, much more faded, and the wood looked much more worn.

This was one of Mr. Liu’s apartments.

The pair of you entered a comfortable sitting room with the lights low, to which only large candles had been lit.

He made sure you were properly ensconced into an armchair before he turned his back towards you and made his way to the drink carts.

“Would you like something to drink?” Sicheng asked, voice measured.

“A gin tonic would be wonderful.”

After carefully making your drink and pouring himself a healthy 4 fingers of bourbon, he handed your glass to you and sat down in the chair opposite of you.

Silence permeated awkwardly and you turned your eyes towards the tapestry in the middle of the room, giving yourself something to do.

“Were those feelings true?” he asked, not looking at you.

“Elaborate, please.”

“The last night…” He looked quickly at you, before turning his eyes away and clenching his jaw. “The last night we were together.”

“Ah.”

Absolutely, unequivocally. Dolos was everything you had searched for in Minghao and, while your relationship was unusual, you could not deny the string between you two.

Something burned at your eyes and you bit the inside of your cheek.

“Yes. Then and now,” you stated, opening yourself up for an attack.

His eyes widened and the twitching in his fingers stopped.

“And you, Sicheng?” you enquired boldly.

“Always,” he stated without hesitation. “It was never something as trivial as pillow talk.”

Seeing as he was on the brink of closing off, due to his rare moment of vulnerableness, you wrapped your hand around his.

His eyes shot to yours, then to your linked hands, before tightening his grip.

“I don’t know where to start,” you confessed. “I… One thing that has always been on my mind—why did you dislike me so much?”

He smiled bitterly. “Sometimes, I forget that you don’t see the way I see you. You are a smart, dauntless woman, who’s pushed all my buttons. It all just built and built upon each other until I found you—Dove—here.” He pauses. “I projected my frustrations onto Dove—you—here. But never, for a moment, doubt my feelings aren’t genuine.”

You pursed your lips. “Forgive me, but I cannot accept your accusations of me being the office slut—very rude, by the way—were without malice. You constantly pushed me down, clashed with me in the workplace and you were just plain classist.”

Sicheng’s eyes were casted down, but his grip was steady. “I will not lie. Those words I spat at you were with malice. But now, in retrospect, they were nothing more but words of immature frustration that I channeled towards you. I know that I cannot take them back and they will forever linger in the air between us, but I can apologize and recognize those words were completely unacceptable.”

He angled his body fully towards you and clasped your hand in both of his. “I am sorry for my actions. My anger was misplaced and the sentiments do not represent me anymore. I am sorry and I hope you can forgive me.”

“And then what? What do you want now, Sicheng?” An edge of desperation tinged your voice.

He smiled bitterly at you. “Everyday, the smell of you lingers and I, like Pavlov’s dog, cannot help but feel an ache in the marrow of my bones when I see your crimson red lips. Every night, when I go to bed, you are seared across the back of my eyelids and I cannot escape you, even in my dreams.” He paused. “I want you, or whatever scraps you’re willing to toss me.”

A sharp exhale left you nose and you blinked rapidly. “I don’t want to get hurt. You get off on hurting people.”

“With your consent.”

“Say I want a completely vanilla relationship,” you challenged. He didn’t flinch. “What about then?”

Sicheng clenched his jaw and held your gaze fiercely. “Anything.”

“I hate that you are all I’ve wanted in a man,” you admitted unwillingly. He hummed. “Will we be each other’s destruction? Or will we be each other’s maker?” you pondered nonsensically.

“Aren’t we already both?” he retorted.

Slowly, without releasing his hand, you rose from your chair and lowered yourself into his lap. His eyes traced your every movement. For a few, brief moments, you looked into each other’s eyes without the obsurance of a mask or the encumbrance of a workplace rivalry. Your left hand cupped his cheekbone and stroked the skin underneath his eye.

“This will be interesting,” you said.

He gave no sign of reaction, but tilted his head into your palm and closed his eyes. “After us, the flood,” he recited.

Monday, March 2nd, 2020

Sinochen Enterprises, Chater House, Central, Hong Kong

7:50 PM HKT

A secret grin tugged at your lips as you looked across the table at Sicheng, who was intensely focused on the presentation your coworker was giving. Perhaps he’d felt the weight of your gaze on him as he chanced a glance at you and gave you a small smirk.

The past month in your relationship with Sicheng was equally fulfilling and frustrating. There were times where both of you deliberately looked for a fight or misinterpreted each other, but there were also times you could shed your layers and just be yourselves with the other.

Even each fight, where you or Sicheng stormed out, or broke things, you came back to each other at the end. Pushing, pulling, pushing, pulling relentlessly. The flood, indeed.

You focused back in on the meeting and contributed to the smatter of clapter for the end of your coworker’s presentation. As he turned off the projector and people stood up to leave,  Xiao Daiyu—the interim head of the Sales department—stopped you and Sicheng.

“Y/N, Sicheng, please stay back for a moment. I’d like to talk to you about Mr. Lee’s replacement.”

You and Sicheng glanced at each other and you sat back down. A while ago, you had both agreed the decision wasn’t going to break the quiet relationship you had built. It was going to be sour. You knew, when someone was chosen, things could get messy and awkward. But this… this was too good.

Daiyu sat down and put her hands together. “After much decision and going through your interviews, the CEO has stepped in and we are sorry to say neither of you are getting the position.”

You jerked your head around to Sicheng and he did the same—wild confusion and anger in both of your eyes. Both your years of loyalty and dedication are being passed over?

“Instead, we have decided to hire outside the company for some fresh intake. He may be young, but it comes to us that he’s highly recommended and would fit in with our culture well.”

A sour feeling came to your stomach and you narrowed your eyes, resisting the urge to frown. They had decided to hire outside the company? This is how they decide to reward their workers? This was betrayal.

Glancing over, you could see Sicheng felt the same. His right hand grasped the arm of the chair tightly and you could see his knuckles turning white.

“I’d like to meet him and he’s coming—” She took a glance at her watch. “—right about now.”

A knock came from the door and a head of messy black hair peaked into the room.

“Daiyu laoban, great to see you.”

No. This could not be happening to you.

The wire glasses. The tall, lanky frame that filled the doorway. The almond shaped eyes hiding behind pitch-black hair, as black his shriveled little heart.

Daiyu, like the little bitch she was, giggled. “Y/N, Sicheng, please meet your new Sales Head: Xu Minghao.”

His eyes focused on you and your world suddenly felt tilted, careening sideways while the nausea hit you all at once.

“Nice to meet you,” he said cheerfully.

You could feel Sicheng’s concern radiating from him at your ashen face and look of shock, but you couldn't even think as flashes of blood and tears and pain shuddered throughout your body.

His smile didn’t reach his eyes. “I’m pleased to be working with you!”

(”After us, the flood” or “Aprés nous, le deluge” is an expression from Madame Pompadour, King Louis XV’s lover.)

And it’s finished. Thank you. Please don’t forget to read, comment, and reblog. I love you all and goodbye.

[escapewithbts]

The Best Surprise - All members (Yoongi focus)

-----------------------------------------------

The hot sun of early June beat down on your cap covered head making beads of sweat form at your hairline. You lifted your hair from around the back of your neck, which had made you feel like you were wearing a scarf, to fan it with the program you were holding. It wasn’t even officially summer and already the heat was almost unbearable. However, you figured you also felt this way because you were nervous. It was your graduation from graduate school; after your 3 last years of school ever you were finally going to officially receive your master’s degree. And although that was a big deal, it wasn’t the only thing making you anxious.

 “We aren’t just the class of 2021…” the valedictorian of your school spoke into the microphone at the podium on the stage in front of you and your fellow peers, “…we are the future.”

A classic speech, if not just a tad cheesy.

During the round of applause, you couldn’t help but turn around to get a better view of all the family members sitting behind the students. Through all the heads you couldn’t find your parents, or the one person you hoped would be sitting next to them. You stood up just a little bit, so not to garner too much attention to yourself, but quickly losing your balance and stumbling slightly onto the girl sitting next to you.

 “Sorry, I’m sorry,” you mumbled.

Finally, you spotted your parents in the sea of people, glad to see their faces. But your happiness faded immediately when you noticed the chair next to them was indeed empty. Slumping back down in your seat, a feeling of sadness and disappointment washed over you.

“I’ll really, really try to make it, jagiya, okay? I want to be there. So badly. It’s just awful timing with the release of Butter and everything else, you know?”

You heard your boyfriend’s voice on the other end of the phone call.

“I know it is. It’s okay if you can’t be there, I promise.”

You heard him sigh.

“Still get me a ticket though, alright? To the ceremony.”

You couldn’t help but smile, a tinge of hope searing back into your heart.

“Okay, I will.”

That hope finally completely vanished when your eyes fell upon that seat meant for him. You maybe felt a little foolish for thinking he could make it. After all, he was halfway across the world, in the biggest (and busiest) band in the world right now. You wished so much he could be here. But you also understood why he couldn’t be.

“So, without further ado let us recognize each student from this year’s graduating class from the university’s School of Business!”

You and your fellow classmates began standing up row by row to walk across the stage and accept your diplomas from the dean who was calling out each name individually in alphabetical order.

Sooner or later it was almost your turn. You were standing at the base of the steps to the stage when your full name was called.

“(y/f/n (y/m/n) (y/l/n).”

As you ascended the stairs and shook hands with the professors in a line congratulating all the graduates you suddenly heard a loud yell from the crowd.

“YEAH, (y/n)!!! WOOO!!! YEAH!!”

You turned to find the source of the screaming, and when you saw it, your heart felt like it would burst out of your chest.

For there he was, standing at his seat that had been empty just moments ago, jumping up and down and pumping his fist. A few people stared at how loud he had been, but you were way too happy to feel embarrassed. When you made eye contact, he gave you a double thumbs up and a huge gummy smile. You gave him a little wave and grinned back, ear to ear.

After the ceremony was over you rushed to your feet and scrambled through the crowds of people. Your eyes scanned the grounds, your heart beating fast, your diploma gripped tightly in your hand, your other one holding down your graduation cap so it wouldn’t fall off your head.

Eventually you spotted him leaning against a large sycamore tree, one foot resting on its trunk. He was wearing a classic white button-down shirt, a black skinny tie, his hands in the pockets of his trousers and a black jacket that matched under his arm. You felt your heart skip a beat and you caught your breath in your throat.

He looked even more handsome than you remembered if that were possible. His black hair was tousled messily on his head, his milky white skin glowed in the sun, his eyes narrowed searching for you, too. You practically ran to him.

When he finally noticed you just a few feet away a huge smile appeared on his face, and he outstretched his arms. Without a hint of hesitation, you fell into his embrace, breathing in his familiar scent, feeling his familiar body against yours, running your hand through his soft locks. You felt like crying.

 “Yoongi-ah-,” you breathed out, clutching the back of his shirt as if to make sure he was truly in front of you, and it wasn’t just your imagination.

He held you tightly against him.

 “My (y/n) … I’m here…”

You let go slightly and took him in close up. You forgot how beautiful he was; how kind his eyes were, how cute his rounded nose was, how soft his thin pink lips looked. You pressed them to yours in a long overdue kiss.

 “I’m so glad you made it,” you murmured to him when you broke apart.

He cupped your face in his large vein-y hand and rubbed your cheek with the pad of his thumb.

 “I would never miss my jagiya’s graduation. Just look at you!” he stepped back to take you in as you giggled and twirled in your graduation outfit for him, “My babygirl has her master’s degree!”

He pulled you back to him and wrapped his arm around your lower back.

“I’m so proud of you, jagi.”

He smiled and kissed the tip of your nose.

“Thank you, Yoongi-ah.”

Then he held up his finger.

“Oh wait, one more thing.”

You cocked your head as he took the tassel that was coming out of your cap and moved it to the left side.

“There. Now it’s really official,” he looked at the ground shyly, “At least, I think that’s what you’re supposed to do? I’ve seen it in movies…”

You chuckled and wrapped your arms around the back of his neck.

“Yes, you’re so smart! And I am now officially official.”

You giggled and kissed him once more.

The two of you met back up with your parents (they had figured you wanted the time alone first) and they hugged you and said their congratulations. To your surprise, Yoongi had already asked if it were okay if just the two of you spent the afternoon together since he had something special planned. You promised your parents you both would meet back up with them for dinner. They kindly took your gown and cap for you, told you how proud they were of you and reassured you it was not a problem spending all the time you wanted with Yoongi.

“I hope you don’t mind if we have lunch at this Korean restaurant I found online,” Yoongi asked you as you hopped into the back seat of an uber.

You shook your head.

“Of course not, you know I love Korean food. It’s, like, 80% of the reason I decided to date you, I knew I would have it all the time,” you joked.

He rolled his eyes and poked your side gently making you squeal.

“Oh yeah? And what’s the other 20%?”

You made a look like you were thinking hard.

“Hmm well… I guess you’re kind of cute.”

Then you smiled and quickly pecked his lips before he could respond.

At last, the car pulled up outside the entrance of the restaurant and you and Yoongi walked inside hand and hand.

“Hello,” the host greeted with a smile, “table for two?”

“Um, actually, I have a reser-reservation I think it is called?” Yoongi hesitated with the English word briefly, “yes a reservation. Under ‘Min’, please.”

The host looked over the seating chart before finding his name.

“Ah yes, here we are, Mr. Min. I see you reserved the entire back room, yes?”

You glanced at Yoongi thinking it must be a mistake but he nodded his head.

“That’s right.”

The host smiled and beckoned you with her arm.

“Great! Follow me this way please!”

As you followed closely behind her towards the back of the restaurant you tugged Yoongi’s sleeve.

“Yoongs,” you whispered, “you didn’t have to reserve a whole room for us! I would have been fine at a regular table.”

He grinned back at you and wiggled his eyebrows up and down as you reached two closed sliding doors. He shrugged.

“There weren’t any tables big enough.”

You furrowed your eyebrows.

“Big enough for who exact- “

But with that the doors slid open, and six people jumped up from around the large table in the center of the room and yelled,

“SURPRISE!”

A gasp escaped from your lips and your hand went over your mouth in shock.

There before you were Yoongi’s bandmates, your six best friends: Jin, Namjoon, J-Hope, Jimin, Taehyung and Jungkook, all smiling at you.

Jimin was the first to come towards you.

“Congratulations, our (y/n)-ah!” He wrapped his arms around you in a huge hug, Taehyung soon joining on the other side.

“Congratulations, (y/n)!” Namjoon was next, kissing the top of your head.

Then J-Hope gave you a congratulations dance that made you giggle before embracing you in a hug.

Jungkook wrapped his arms around you and squeezed, making you lose your breath momentarily. Gosh, he was bigger and stronger than you remembered.

“Congratulations, (y/n)-ah.”

You smiled at the youngest.

“Thank you, Kookie.”

Last was the oldest. He strolled up to you and ruffled your hair. You tried to bat his hand away.

“We’re the only ones with two degrees now, (y/n)-ah,” he stated, smoothing down your hair he had messed up and giving it a pat, “Pretty sure that means we’re the smartest of the group.”

You heard Yoongi chuckled and Namjoon snort behind you.

You winked at Jin.

“You’ve always been the smartest of the group, Jinnie.”

It was his turn to snort. Then he smiled and pulled you into a warm hug.

With that, the doors reopened, and multiple waiters brought in plates and plates of food and set them on the table in front of you. Your mouth watered at the sight.

“Aish, what did you guys do, order the whole menu?” Yoongi asked as everyone took a seat.

“We had to, hyung, it’s a special occasion!” Jimin replied, already taking a large bite of the pork ribs.

Before you sat down you took Yoongi’s hand in yours and looked around the table at the seven most important people in your life, feeling happier than you had in while to have them all here together.

 “Thank you, guys, so much for coming. I can’t believe you’re actually here. For me, nonetheless,” you chuckled bashfully, “It means the world to me. Thank you.”

They smiled adoringly up at you.

“Of course,” Namjoon spoke up, “We’d do anything for you, (y/n). And we’re really proud of you.”

Yoongi squeezed your hand gently as happy tears threatened to spill from your eyes.

“Yah, don’t cry, don’t cry!” Jin protested, making a silly face at you.

You giggled and sniffled, wiping under your eyes.

“Yeah, come on (y/n)-ah, you’re going to make everyone cry!” J-hope agreed.

You chuckled softly and muttered a quiet apology.

Jimin stood up and walked over to you. Then he pulled your chair out for you and placed his arm around your shoulders, gently pushing you to sit down.

“Eat,” he commanded with a smile, pointing to the heaps of food in front of you.

Yoongi handed you a bowl of rice and chopsticks before kissing your temple lightly. You quickly started to dig in.

“Now, then,” Namjoon said with a bite of half chewed noodles in his mouth, “let’s here all about the ceremony.”

*

Masterlist

[wannabe-fic-writer]

Natasha x Romanoff : Escape

Summary: The Red Room haunts you, from the moment you stepped foot inside to long after you’ve left. Truth is, you don’t think there is any escaping it.

Warnings: 18+ Violence, Depression, Mentions of Death, Smut

!!Final Chapter!!

Chapter 16

****** 

Three broken bones. 

They’d need to be reset and wrapped but due to your enhanced abilities they would heal quickly. 

For now though they sit under an ice pack.

While you’re use to damage being done to your body in combat, the last circumstance you expected to be injured in was holding your wife’s hand.

Natasha had gripped your hand with not a single regard to the pained expression on your face and you’d paid very little attention to the damage she had done. Between her screams and the doctors calmed words you couldn’t care less.

Even after she had let it go and slumped in exhaustion you worked through the pain. With the sounds of your child crying, you hurry to the foot of the bed, picking up the scissors as instructed and cut the umbilical chord.

Now you watch as the doctor and nurses follow the basic procedure of weighing and cleaning your baby, and also attending to Natasha. 

Part of you feels a little useless as you stand to the side but more than anything you’re happy and concerned, slightly nervous. You really just want to hear that your wife will recover properly and that your baby is in perfect health.

As you wait for the nurses to finish up, you run the cool damp rag over your wife’s forehead, wiping away the sweat that had built up. You place a gentle kiss on her head, brushing away almost dried tears and loose strands of hair. 

“I’m so proud of you lyubov moya, I love you so much.” You whisper praise and honest words into her hair.

Natasha gives a sleepy smile to you,“ I love you too.” She sighs, eyes closing.

Her rest hasn’t even begun before the nurses are stepping over with your baby.

“Congratulations on your healthy baby girl.” The nurse speaks through the mask.

She eases your little girl into the open arms of your teary eyed wife. They both handle the baby with care and gentleness, treating her as if she’s porcelain. She’s more precious than that and you know it, which is what makes you even more nervous. 

During the pregnancy you had done everything you could to care for the baby and Natasha. Making sure Natasha ate properly and was equally as active as she was relaxing. Staying awake a littler longer than Natasha to ensure she remained comfortable and in the proper position while asleep. 

All of that still hadn’t prepared you for this moment. Nothing truly could have but that’s usually the case.

“Y/N,” swallowing, you focus on your wife as she sits up to hand your daughter to you.

That phrase repeats itself in your head as you accept her.

Your daughter. You make sure her head is rested properly on your arm.

Your daughter. You press her close to your chest to ensure she’s warm and safe.

Your daughter. 

A soft, almost inaudible coo escapes her lips. She just barely wiggles in your arms. And then those little eyes open.

When those emerald orbs stare back at you it’s an other worldly feeling. The emotions that swirl through your chest explode and fill you from head to toe. 

It was undeniable that Natasha’s green eyes could motivate you to move mountains. For the same green eyes that belonged to your daughter, you swore you would move the universe. 

“She has your eyes.” You breathe.

Natasha chuckles softly, mesmerized by the sight of you. 

The red head remembers every bit of your panic and nervousness the months prior to this. 

Staying up for hours reading pregnancy and child care books. Scurrying through the house to child proof every inch of it. Waking up in the middle of the night just to run your fingers over her stomach and make sure she and the baby were okay.

Admittedly Natasha had felt a little guilty during her pregnancy. There wasn’t a moment that you weren’t by her side. You attended to her cravings and the sporadic changes in her body, whether she was in pain or she needed you to fuck her into oblivion, without a second thought. 

With each symptom that came with each trimester you adjusted and did everything in your power to be there for Natasha and ultimately your child. And she didn’t miss the sleepiness that lingered in your eyes or the tired sighs you let out every so often. 

It brought the woman to tears more often than she’d like to admit, most times resulting in you trying to comfort her, which just made her cry more. She genuinely felt as if she was asking too much of you. 

But you reassured her, after she finally broke and told you how she was feeling, that you would do it all again in an instant(part of you thinking of the chance of you having to do it again should you both decide to have another child) because you love her and your baby. 

Every little move and decision you had made, despite your worry and doubt in yourself, you’d done it all because you love her and your daughter, and it all lead to this moment.

Right now, with your daughter cradled to your chest and love radiating off of you, Natasha knows that you’re going to be the greatest mother.

In the passing hours you both easily lose yourselves in her presence. Even as the nurses come in and out of the room to check on you all, has you sign all the necessary papers, and guide Natasha with breastfeeding, you remain completely entranced by the tiny human.

So much so that you’d forgotten about your friends and family out in the waiting room. One look at the clock reveals that they had indeed been waiting for ten hours. 

Before you do anything you check with Natasha. If she says she’s too tired you’ll tell them to go home until she’s ready. But the excitement of seeing her family meet her daughter keeps her awake. 

Fingers wringing together in excitement and remaining waves of nervousness, you step out the room and walk down the hall.

No one notices you at first, giving you a moment to take in all the support you and Natasha have.

The large waiting room is nearly full of Avengers and friends alike. Right beside the door sits the Captain himself clutching an adorable brown teddy bear. The three chairs beside him are occupied by the Starks: Tony sips from a cup of coffee with his arm thrown over his daughter, who is holding a slightly used white bunny rabbit with her mother on her opposite side.

Along the wall opposite the door sits the Bartons. Clint’s leg bounces up and down, Laura’s hand placed on the still one. Their children sit beside each other on Laura’s side, an assortment of balloons and flowers with them.

Bucky, Sam, Wanda, Carol, and Peter sit in the center of the room, the first holding a gift basket as a bag sits beside Carol’s foot. Lastly, seated behind them across three chairs is Bruce. It’d been years since you’d seen him in normal human form but it doesn’t surprise you that he chose this particular occasion to down size.

Making yourself known, you step into view. You’d never seen the group of heroes move so quickly before. They gather around you, an array of questions flying from their lips that causes you to smile.

“Calm down guys please.” Despite them shutting up, you still see the way they physically can’t calm.“ I am pleased to announce the birth of our perfectly healthy baby girl, Annalise Romanoff-Y/L/N.” 

The nurses are not happy with the cheer that bursts over the group and you’re quick to silence them. 

From there you bring back a few people at a time. The first group of course being Clint, Steve, and Tony. 

You enjoy seeing the big bad super solider get so nervous when Annalise is placed in his arms, you imagine that’s how you look if not more nervous when you hold her. And of course Clint and Tony handle her with the care of that of a father. 

The next group is Pepper, Morgan, Laura, Wanda, and Carol. Pepper and Laura, while very much in love with Annalise already, spend more time than the others checking in with Natasha. Which is to be expected, they’re the only ones who truly understand how wracking this all has been for Natasha. 

In groups of three, the last of your visitors come in. All of which want to hold your daughter. Except for Bucky, Morgan, and little Nathaniel. Truthfully you weren’t too sure about letting Peter hold her as he was more than a little nervous, you didn’t want the jumpy boy to drop your daughter so you sat him down before handing her over.

Like all things, visitation comes to an end. Natasha loses her last bits of strength to stay awake and after another feeding she and Annalise are asleep.

Of course you are tired, you’d woken up at three in the morning and have been alert and slightly on edge for ten hours. Still you stay awake, eyes spending equal amounts of time looking at your wife and daughter. 

Standing guard in the hospital room probably wasn’t necessary and you definitely need the sleep but you’ve already vowed in yourself to give anything for your girls. And it starts right now. 

***** ***** *****

“Heads up Mama!” 

Looking up at the sound of your wife’s voice, you catch the sight of your little girl quickly coming your way. You set down your drink, stand up, and scoop her into your arms. 

“What can I do for you little miss?” You ask, earning a toothy grin from her.

She buries her face in your neck seeing Natasha walk over, mumbling,“ want juice pop.” 

Your wife rolls her eyes in mock annoyance, a smile instantly taking over her face.

“Have I missed something?” You look from your daughter to your wife.

The older redhead nods,“ yes in fact you have. She wanted a snack and I pulled out her carrots and she took off toward you hoping to get a juice pop.”

There’s no denying that Annalise has both you and Natasha wrapped around her little fingers, and at the young age of three she knows exactly who to go to to get what she wants. 

You give Natasha a pout,“ awe, come on mommy, one little juice pop won’t hurt.”

Hearing that you’re on her side, Annalise sits up and looks at you, before pouting at Natasha as well,“ pease mommy. One little juice pop?”

“I’m a highly trained secret agent and you two think pouts is going to make me crack?” She looks from your e/c eyes to the green eyes of your daughter.

One glance at each other and you’re looking at her with pouts and puppy dog eyes. 

“Fine!” Her hands go up in surrender,“ you can have juice pops.”

The two of you waste no time going to get the sugary snacks, Annalise making sure to bring back a strawberry one for your wife as Natasha deemed it her favorite.

It had taken years, for things to finally start to settle. Rebuilding the world takes time, and despite the progress there is still much to be done. But with the compound having been completely redone(with more safety precautions installed than there were to protect the state) the team decided it was time to relax.

With today being ultimately rare, as no one was off on a mission or working in general, Tony called for a picnic at the compound. 

Gentle breezes pass through the large field, rustling the surrounding trees and wafting the nearby aromas: smoky scents of cooking meat from the grill, natural fruity tones from the table of healthy snacks and the contrasting sugary scents of the desert table. 

Obvious sounds of happiness fill the air. Childish shrieks and squeals come from the bounce castle that the Barton children, Morgan, and Peter occupy. Boisterous laughter from the super soldiers, God, and soldier who stand around the drink coolers. A harmless altercation between Tony and Bruce being instigated by Clint, Happy and Rhodey, that is quickly broken up by their wives as they head over to join Wanda and Carol under the shade. 

In this moment, watching all your friends spend the day together and seeing your daughter messily feed your wife a strawberry juice pop, you feel lighter than you ever have.

As a child you were taught that love is for children. Growing up you were trained and made to be a weapon. You’d done horrible things to people both good and bad. And for majority of your life you believed you were destined to do the bidding of the people who enslaved you, destined to live in the darkness you grew accustomed to.

Throughout that darkness there were shimmers of light, sprinkles of hope, and glimpses of a better future. 

Natalia had illuminated the darkness that the Red Room subjected you to, little moments together showing you that love isn’t for children. 

Natasha pulled you from the shadows HYDRA casted over you, proving that there’s more to you than the bad you’d done for them. 

Misses Y/L/N-Romanoff opened the door to a future of happiness you thought to be unattainable.

Each alias belonging to and assisting in the creation that is the woman that single handedly changed your entire life. The woman that loves you unconditionally, that introduced you to the large group of people you call your friends, and gave you your daughter, a gift beyond your wildest dreams. 

For the first time ever, with your family and friends surrounding you, you’d felt truly at peace. The demons of your past no longer loomed over you. You’d escaped the darkness they trapped you in. And nothing could mass the love and happiness it brings you.

******

Taglist: @thelastavenger-3000 @aaron-despair @messuhp@izalesbean @bvb-bk @username23345 @sighsam@confusinggemini612 @natasha-danvers @rileigh519@higherfurther-romanova  @dynnealberto

[iliumheightnights]

Daniel Stark (OC) Fluff ABC

A = Attractive (What do they find attractive about the other?) - Daniel has two things that he finds the most attractive, personality and looks. The guy can be the hottest guy ever, but they won’t get anywhere without being a good person. “Luckily Peter is both hot AND a good boy.”

B = Baby (Do they want a family? Why/Why not?) - Oh for sure Daniel wants a family. Eventually, He and Peter will have kids. Now, how many? That’s still being figured out. “We’re naming our son Benjamin. I think that’s a given.” Daniel says making Peter cry.

C = Cuddle (How do they cuddle?) - Little spoon, face pressed into Peter’s chest. He’s like a koala. Tony has walked into the living room many times to find the two passed out and clinging onto each other. “Pft. Gross.”

D = Dates (What are dates with them like?) - It really depends on what he and Peter want to do. If they’re feeling romantic they can be SO romantic. Daniel pulls out all the stops for Peter, not leaving out any details. If they’re both feeling lazy but still want to do something, Daniel will conjure up food for them and watch movies.

“I hope you’re enjoying date night Peter.”

“I am! Still can’t believe we’re at a restaurant at the bottom of the ocean.”

E = Everything (You are my ____ (e.g. my life, my world…)) - “You’re my entire universe, Peter. There isn’t anything I wouldn’t do for you.”

F = Feelings (When did they know they were in love?) - Daniel started feeling...feelings for Peter when he saw how the boy really did care for people and protected them no matter what. But he knew he was in LOVE when he saw the way Peter laughed at his dad’s stupid jokes like they were the best treasure in the world.

G = Gentle (Are they gentle? If so, how?) - It depends really. Daniel IS a gentle person by nature...but sometimes, especially in bed, he can get rough.

H = Hands (How do they like to hold hands?) - Believe it or not, Daniel actually doesn’t like holding hands. He does if Peter really wants some, but Danny doesn’t like how holding hands makes him feel clammy. However, he totally does grab Peter’s hand if things start looking bad or scary.

I = Impression (What was their first impression?) - Oh, Daniel and Peter got off on such a bad start. Daniel saw Peter as a replacement to him even though Tony tried to make it clear that wasn’t the case. Of course, that didn’t mean anything when he saw how Tony and Peter acted together. Daniel constantly tormented Peter at the beginning and used his magic to prank him all the time.

“Danny, I love you, you’re my son. So please...please stop messing with Peter.”

“I will when you two stop trying to replace me.”

“We’re not replacing you! Now please, get rid of that spider.”

“Mr.Stark please help me! It’s so big!”

J = Jealousy (Do they get jealous?) - Oh yes. Yes, Daniel gets very jealous. I mean take how he reacted to Peter and Tony at first. Then after they started dating anyone who flirted with Peter was in the danger zone. It was even worse because by then, Daniel had mastered more of his magic.

“Danny come on. Change him back!” Peter said as he lifted up his hand with a three-inch tall guy on it that Daniel had shrunk.

“I will when he apologizes for flirting with you.”

“Danny…”

K = Kiss (How do they kiss? Who initiated the first kiss?) - He loves to give passionate kisses. He wants all of his love to pour into Peter. He also of course does the quick pecks on the cheek when in a rush or feeling spontaneous. I feel like Peter actually would have been the one to start the first kiss. It was probably after some big battle and he just had that adrenaline to do it.

“Oh...sorry.”

Daniel of course pulled him right back in for more.

L = Love (Who says ‘I love you’ first?) - Oh this is a hard one. I might have to come back to it.

M = Memory (What’s their favourite memory together?) - Their favorite memory together would probably be when Tony had sent them both on a ‘business trip to the Carribeans and they got to relax for an entire two weeks. They got to stay in the Stark vacation house there and got to just be a couple and not heroes or a Stark.

“Can we not go back? Can we just...stay here forever?”

“I agree. Let’s tell dad we just got lost.”

N = Nickel (Do they spoil? Do they buy the person they love everything?) - Daniel really does spoil Peter. Daniel likes to show his love through gifts and will buy ridiculous things just because he thinks Peter will like them. It’s easier for Daniel, not only cause he’s a Stark, but because he can conjure literally anything Peter wants.

O = Orange (What colour reminds them of their other half?) - Red is the color that always makes him think of Peter. Especially if it’s paired with blue and black. It’s mostly because of his suit.

P = Pet names (What pet names do they use?) - Daniel has totally called Peter: Petey, Spidey, Honey, bug-boy.

Q = Quaint (What is their favourite non-modern thing?) - Cuddles. Daniel is a serial cuddler and he wants lots of them when he can. Peter doesn’t object, he loves cuddles too.

R = Rainy Day (What do they like to do on a rainy day?) - Honestly Daniel was probably the one to create the rain. Usually Danny tries his water magic whenever it rains or if he’s not feeling it, continue whatever he was doing inside. Honestly, a rainy day doesn’t change anything except his mood. He really likes when it rains.

S = Sad (How do they cheer themselves/others up?) - Daniel crashes in bed whenever he’s sad. That or he escapes to his own pocket dimension because when he’s sad, his magic could start to get away from him and he doesn’t need that to happen.

If someone else is upset, he’ll do everything in his power to make them feel better. From using his magic to just sitting and talking. Anything.

T = Talking (What do they like to talk about?) - Honestly just mention something about magic or dinosaurs and he’ll talk your ears off about them. He also loves talking about his family, but he likes to keep what he says pretty close to him.

U = Unencumbered (What helps them relax?) - Spending time with his dads or with Peter is a big help. He also loves to write to let things out.

V = Vaunt (What do they like to show off? What are they proud of?) - His dads and Peter. They’re the best things in his life and he loves showing them off. Not even his magic gets as much attention as they do.

W = Wedding (When, how, where do they propose?) - Call him a sap. Daniel will propose to Peter in his dad’s lab where they first met saying exactly that. However, neither are ready for that just yet so...mark that in your calendar.

X = Xylophone (What’s their song?) - the lightning strike by snow patrol.

Y = Yes (Do they ever think of getting married/proposing?) - Oh yeah, Daniel totally thinks of it. But again, they’re both too young and neither are ready for it, so they’re going to take their time and not rush things.

Z = Zebra (If they wanted a pet, what would they get?) - They end up getting a cat and dog. Daniel wanted a cat and Peter wanted a dog. Neither would compromise so that’s how they ended up with both.

[onyxiana-is-obsessed]

Marry Me, Bunny | Tamaki Amajiki x Reader

AN: Hiya! This was a request from @sweetlikepeppermints ! I hope you like this, love! Sidenote: I’ve been having way too much fun with these covers >.< Pronouns used: She/her Length: 1.8k

Summary: Tamaki’s been trying to propose to you for a while now! He finally gets his chance

Your Name: (y/f/n) - Aye soon to be (f/n) Amajiki Quirk: (y/q) Age: 24

“(f/n)… y-you’re the best th- no. B-Bunny, I l-love you s-so much and- no.” Tamaki sighed, flopping down onto the couch. His indigo eyes stared up at the white ceiling as he clenched his fists. Tamaki was rehearsing his proposal to his lovely girlfriend, (f/n). The only problem was, Tamaki was too shy. He wasn’t even the one to ask her out to begin with! She asked him out on a date, then asked him to be her boyfriend. So, how was he possibly going to ask her to marry him!?

Both Nejire and Mirio did their best to convince him that (f/n) wouldn’t say no, but how could they be sure? They couldn’t, unless (f/n) told him she would want to marry him. What if (f/n) lied!? What if she lied so Nejire and Mirio wouldn’t feel bad or something?

Just the simple thought alone caused him immense inner turmoil. It messed with his head, nerves, and the very little confidence he’d mustered up. The plan was to take (f/n) out on a cute little date, first to her favorite cafe, then out to the aquarium, then dinner, then finally propose to her at home! Ideally, he would’ve liked to propose to her at the restaurant, but his anxiety wouldn’t let him and he’d make a bigger fool of himself than he already did.

Tamaki frowned a little, would (f/n) want to be proposed to in front of a crowd? Would she want a husband who was more confident? Tamaki would barely handle kissing her on the cheek in public and they’d been dating for well over four years, almost going on five in about three months. 

Yes, (f/n) was dating him, but they were at the stage where all (f/n) needed to do to get rid of him was to tell him. If they got married, she’d need to go through this whole divorce process, do all the paperwork, and find their attorneys. Would he really want to do that to her? Would he really want to put her through that? He was surprised she hadn’t gotten bored of him, yet. Would that last forever? He sure hoped it would.

Tamaki was so madly in love with (f/n). With all of his heart. She was his rock, she was his sun, she was his determination, passion, drive, and reason. She was the reason he was a hero, she was the reason he put himself out there, she was the reason he was who he was. The powerful and mighty Suneater, the number 4 ranked pro hero.

Tamaki was nothing without his (f/n) and he happily admitted it. So, to him, marriage was the next step he would blindly take, knowing (f/n) would be by his side. But, would she? Would she truly be ok with someone like him? Someone so meek and timid, someone who could barely handle affection behind closed doors, let alone in public. There were so many better options… So why him?

Sitting up, Tamaki sighed. All of these negative thoughts weren’t helping his case. If he wanted to propose to (f/n), he’d need to be confident. (f/n) had been with him for almost five years now. She had chosen him, out of all her friends and all the other people he thought she’d been better with. She had chosen him and was clearly happy with him. So, why was he so scared? He couldn’t be. He had to be confident, he had to push himself out of his comfort zone, all for his beautiful, bunny.

***

“Hey, Tama!” (f/n) greeted him with a rather excited tone. She wrapped her arms around his torso, nuzzling her face into his chest.

“H-Hey, bunny.” His arms fell around her, pulling her into him tightly. He placed a small kiss on the top of her head as his hands raked through her (h/l) (h/c) locks. “Ready?” She nodded and looked up at him with a big smile.

“I am!” Grabbing her (purse/bag), she shut her apartment door and locked it. The first place they went to was (fav cafe) so (f/n) could get her favorite beverage, (f/b). Once they were done, they walked towards the aquarium. “Where are we headed, Tama?”

“It’s a surprise.” He said, a slight smile on his lips. (f/n) only nodded, her hand tightening around his as they walked and sipped their drinks. 

**

They had a comfortable conversation until they arrived at the next location. He was both relieved and overjoyed to see how excited (f/n) was when she saw the aquarium in the distance and Tamaki confirmed that’s where they were going.

As they walked through the entire aquarium, visiting all the exhibits and whatnot, Tamaki couldn’t help but feel a sense of bliss and contentment at seeing his girlfriend’s happy face and expressions.

“Tama! Look!” She giggled, running ahead of him. Her hand slipped from his as she placed them on the glass, eyes filled with wonder and admiration. There was a large tank that had small sharks, different schools of saltwater fish, and even some manta rays. Her eyes watched as a manta ray swam towards her, floating above and exposing its belly to her as it swam by. “Oh! He’s so cute!” She giggled.

Tamaki smiled as he followed behind her, standing right next to her. His indigo eyes scanned her features, her bright smile, and eyes filled with excitement. It felt great knowing he was the reason, someone, as amazing as she had that big of a smile.

In the distance, Tamaki saw a (fish/marine mammal you like) plushie. It was medium-sized and he knew (f/n) liked that specific fish because of the (reason you like said fishie/mammal). While (f/n) was busy watching the fish swim around the tank, Tamaki slipped away and quickly bought the little stuffed animal for her.

Tamaki came up behind her and brought the plushie down in front of her. Her eyes widened as her fingers gently wrapped around it.

“T-Tama! Th-this is so freaking cute! Thank you!” She turned around and wrapped her arms around his waist and hugged him tightly. His cheeks flushed a deep red, but a soft smile appeared on his lips and hugged back.

“An-anything for you, B-Bunny.” (f/n) held the plushie close to her chest the entire time they were at the aquarium. She deemed it her favorite plushie it and had named it (p/n). The next location was the restaurant. Tamaki had taken her to her favorite restaurant, (r/n).

“This is super nice, Tamaki. You must’ve really missed me.” (f/n) giggled. It was true, she and Tamaki had been apart for a few days due to how busy he was, but that wasn’t the only reason. Tamaki looked down, his mind returning to the ring in his pocket. It felt so heavy and overbearing, but he tried his best to push it out of his head. He was nervous all day and (f/n) had noticed, but she knew how he was. So, she gave him the opportunity to come to her when he was ready to talk about it.

That’s what he loved most about her. She never pushed him out of his comfort zone, she never forced him to talk about his feelings, and she always supported him no matter what. She was caring and loving and she never took advantage of him.

The dinner went smoothly, (f/n) had ordered her favorite (f/f) and Tamaki had ordered his. The two had a rather pleasant date, before they were headed home. Now was when the nerves kicked in. He was about to propose… but how?!

“Want to have a movie night? Binge watch a bunch of movies?”

“O-o-ok.” He answered, looking away. (f/n) knew something was wrong, but she didn’t press the issue further.

“What movie, baby?”

“Wh-whatever y-y-you w-want.” He mentally cursed at himself for being so ridiculously shy and cowardice.

“How about we watch… (f/m)?” Tamaki only nodded, unable to speak. (f/n) grabbed some snacks, even though they were full, in case they wanted some later on. While she was gathering her stuff, Tamaki was gathering up the courage to finally ask her the question. His mind was in a panic, the butterflies in his stomach were also in a panic, his body was shaking, and it was the most uncomfortable feeling and he really didn’t like it. “Ready?” (f/n) asked, sitting down next to him with all her junk food sprawled out on the large couch. As she pulled the covers up, Tamaki stood, making her eyes follow his figure. “You ok, baby? What’s wrong?”

Tamaki stood in front of her, gazing down at his beautiful girlfriend. She looked so beautiful today and even now, she was glowing. He was so lucky to have her and he only wished she knew.

On the other hand, (f/n) was in a full-blown panic. Tamaki was acting extremely strange all day. Did he want to break up with her? Did she do something? Did she hurt his feeling? She was mentally trying to prepare herself for any of these possibilities, but her heart stopped when he got down on one knee and gently took her left hand. In this other hand, he had a small velvety black box, with a bright diamond ring.

It was beautiful, the band was lined with gems, the biggest one in the center sparkling and winking at (f/n). Tamaki was blushing heavily, but he was determined to do this. He was Suneater and he wasn’t scared to ask his girlfriend to marry him.

“(y/f/n). We’ve been together for four years, almost five. You’ve always been by my side no matter what. You’ve always encouraged me, supported me, and loved me regardless of all my flaws. I… I know I’m shy and I know I get embarrassed easily but I want you to know, bunny, I love you. I love you so much. You’re my entire world, you’re my moon and my stars, you’re my sun, my universe. You’re my reason for being a hero. You make me a better person, bunny. You’re my drive, my passion, my determination, my will to continue. I want to be a hero for you. I want to be a hero that you’ll be proud of. So (f/n), will you marry me?”

He didn’t stutter, not once. (f/n)’s heart melted at the determination in his eyes. This is one of the times (f/n) could see just how confident Tamaki could be and she loved it. Her eyes were wide as she let every single word, every single syllable, sink in. Unable to speak, she just nodded rapidly. He slid the ring onto her finger and pulled her towards him, placing a kiss on her lips. It was soft, gentle, and loving. (f/n) giggled, her hand meeting his cheek.

“I love you so much, Tamaki,” She whispered, pressing another kiss to his lips. “Or should I say,” She winked. “Mr. Amajiki?” He couldn’t help the laugh that escaped his lips.

“I love you too, Mrs. Amajiki.”

[seedleaflesssapling]

Ver 2.0? Turning Point?

I can't really identify to which point in my life that i started to doubt myself but im pretty sure that it was because of UP. Damn, that school, my uni. It do really have the ability to make you feel small; i was in a disadvantaged side when i entered it, you know. I was acquainted, no we did not really talked one-on-one, but i heard when we did introductions - Pisay, UP High, science comprehensive schools, Xavier University, who wouldn't be intimidated by that when you came from Col. Ruperto Abellon National School (who would know where that is? I was lucky enough for a teacher recognized it and my classmates be like 'ahhhhhh,' .....really?! I dont even know where xavier is, it just sounds cool). Another thing is that, i wasn't a stem shs graduate - a leverage(?) or excuse (?) that i always use for them to know that i am at disadvantaged side here, not their competitor, probably a NOBODY. They, being stem graduates, have capstone projects you never thought that they have at that age, but i would hear them saying that it was publish in this journal (whatever, idk the journals lmao, i dont even understand their studies 2nd lmao, but that was some smart shit you know, a shit that makes me feel pathetic for being too proud of my what? Correlational study from inconsistent surveys?!!! Wtf, wtf, wtf). But it was a very good peer pressure you know, i kinda turned it that way. Being left behind, being on the rock bottom, i have no other place to go but up. It wasn't the goal, like making or taking the top spot, i just need to survive.

Inevitably, the exams came. I had hard time adjusting chem but math was kind to me. Who would have thought that i would get two 1.0 at my math subjects for the first semester, the sem that i thought i would barely pass. I was even a CS for that sem. Who would have thought? Our first chemical engineering subject that involves computations was on the list the next semester and the first exam, out of 100 i got something like 20ish. WTF. THAT WAS MY FIRST FAILED EXAM. but no, never did cry but tears were flooding inside. So apparently, i have to focus more on this subject and i did. Some were still failing, but i raised my average up. We also had physics, my first ever physics. I really love physics that time or that sir rommel is just a very good professor. I got the highest score on our second LE, everybody else did fail. Small victories. Not that they lose, but i just won. But i heard one time they were talking about me re: passing the physics exam and even getting a high score. They were uhm.. a guy i really look up to cause his good, the other was a girl that idk but i think she didn't like me back then. They were friends but eventually the girl transferred uni because who cares why. i heard the guy saying something like sin.o gid na si franklin nga taas iya score man, maybe even worse than that, i still look up to the guy even until now. But wtf. I really took it in that time, like i wanted to cry but did not. With all that, i got a fair grade at physics. I still got 1.0 at maths that sem and even maintained being on the CS list. S M I L E. BECAUSE WE HAVE A MIDYEAR CLASS. VERY EXHAUSTING FOR SOMEONE WHO DONT WANT ANYTHING BUT JUST ADJUST, SURVIVE, AND FIND MEANING OF BEING A UP STUDENT. It was just one subject and it was math, but i got 2.0?!!! I have no excuse to that, i am very grateful for the family who accommodated me. After midyear class, i did got sick, it sucks, really sucks. I wanted to file an LOA for the next academic year, it is the only thing i can think of for me to go back on track (i haven't said that my parents pushed me to graduate with latin honor and i wanted to also for my resume to look good because everything else in me is effed up). I really wanted to pause and be free for a while but i also wanted to graduate on time (mostly because i want to give the bitches who dared to have expectations be put on my shoulders not the satisfaction, but the audacity to tell them 'i aint did it for ya') so i asked mama. THANK GOD, SHE DID SAY NA KUNG ANO LANG KAYA MO, AMO LANG DA IH 😭😭🤧🤧 so i enrolled, but went to school late, haven't attended the school opening but all is good. I did kind of reset, just enough for me to face school again.

Second year, it was fucked. I did really love coding on octave and doing sheets at ms excel though. On that year, we have formed the che 103 bagsak group. Together with two of my classmates on 103 and math 55, we became buddies after failing che 103 on the first LE, another 30 over 100 exam hahahahaha. We made bawi just enough for us to pass the subject hahahahahuhu. I have thermodynamics sub, i barely pass. Thank G na wala ko nag removal. If ever i did, i am so sure that i wont make it. My GWA for that sem was not enough for me to be a CS. Who cares? I still did, actually but mama was never been too pushy since then, even since after midyear, after getting that 2.0 grade from the only subject i am good at. Btw, my math 55 for first sem, second year, was 1.25. Not a 1.0 but still, it's good. Second semester that year was when pandemic hit so there's nothing much to tell. I was, sorry but i was really, glad to be away from school for a while, not until for a while became forever. Virtual university set-up was very hard. With too much from taking in whatever i see and hear on my surroundings, even just at home, everything is difficult. It is very hard to find motivation and discipline in studying when i was surrounded with people who do nothing. Even to this point i am writing, everyday is like a battle, but is mostly an internal one. Self vs self, a war no one knows who will win. So the confidence, the tower of knowledge i did build, exponentially went down. I did really well when i was in grade 10, i did my best that time and it can be seen at the achievements i had that year. Being consistently on top 1 the whole year, placing second on division MMC (even getting the highest score on the written elimination round for the whole cluster), doing well sa physics under maam andico, placings on cluster journalism competitions - it was like a record best, best record (?) Whatever. But it wasn't enough you know, i eventually came fourth like wtf. I had read from somewhere Newton saying like the two years when he did write the three laws of motion and the calculus stuff were the two best years of his life, and it kept me thinking that what if mine already passed? That it was when i was in high school?

But, back when i was in school, every time that i was belittling myself or even at random times that i would feel nervous for nothing, my classmates and close friends would say na:

Uno mo man ang Math, uno mo na na (it was a one or two time thing, what if chamba lang to???)

Ikaw man highest sa first le sa thermo (it was really an absolutely one time thing, i barely passed that sub)

Alam ka man sa physics (i was just invested on physics and maybe nachambahan lang na ang ginpractice ko solve kay parallel sa exam ni sir)

Alam ka, d ka lang confident (OKAY???!)

I was ignoring those shit cause who cares if i did really good that time. Yeah, it felt good but it wasn't fulfilling. Satisfied but not happy. But with recent events, i think i would be changing. This post will be a written contract that i will push to be better, to start trusting myself, and build that confidence glow behind me; to believe that i am bright and i can hack it, whatever it may be.

For coherence, i would itemize na lang all of the events that brought me to epiphany lol

It was Friday, 17 Sep, when Dean, in our plant design subject, gave an activity for us - to come up with solutions that would address problems he presented. 1 off grid island community (either you address the water, electricity, and phone reception/signal problem under a 100k budget) and 2 vinegar packaging with a 500 mL volume and should cost less than the cost of vinegar. The due's on Monday, 20 Sep. The challenge is that you should come up with an idea that is not the same with those who already turned in their proposed solutions. I haven't turned in mine until Sunday afternoon. We are 23 in class, hence there should be 23 proposed solutions for each problem. However, only 20 or 21 turned in their solutions and as a student who decided to do it three days after the sheet was given, i was at the second to the last of the entries hahaha. I have limited choice since a lot have been proposed. And ngl, i did entered my idea for the first problem at Sunday evening and for the second problem it was on the afternoon of the next day. Those were basic solutions cause who am I? Am just your basic guy.

Tuesday, 21 Sep (#NeverForget #NeverAgain), class again for plant design (PD). Dean discussed stuffs which im ngl, i did not listen because im bored (not until he said 'we'll have a 5-min break and we'll have a quiz after that' like wtf, how will we do our quiz???!). After the short break, I did study cause i panicked as hell, he presented the prospects of the course, that we will be divided in groups and that the leaders were chosen based on the solutions they turned in the activity previously given. So there's no quiz, i was calm the whole time after that until my name was called. Like wtf??! Your basic guy will be a leader???! Hello!!! So i chat people, asked them if it was a good thing (course it was!!!? So dumb right?!). And then, i asked another leader and she agreed to my argument that we should only be divided into six instead of seven as what dean has decided. So i chatted dean (pic below). I just accepted the role half-heartedly.

As leaders, we should be hiring people for our team and we should make pubs. I dont have a canva account to help me do pubs. I made mine at MS ppt HAHAHAHAHAHA but im good so its cute. We were assigned with projects and i get to have the 4-member team. The vacant roles were project maven and liaison officer for a 3-member team. In my pubs, i included scrummaster as position to be filled, cause who am i to lead?! So yeah, that's it. I did the pubs Wednesday and I submitted my resume Thursday (third to the last hahahaha but my resume's cute hahaha).

Thursday. So i had this invite by a classmate to join the Shell event long time ago. He was reaching out for someone to ask Dean for his approval because Dean did not replied to the email he sent. So, i volunteered. I really want this competition cause this will be my first and maybe last competition as a UP student. So i DMed dean and blah blah blah he asked for selection process. I relayed the message and apologize to them for being me because i was thinking that it was me who made him come up with the decision of having the team be selected. Like, wtf i was just asking for his approval. Getting kicked out of the team was not my intention. Those whom i chatted that night were telling me that it wasn't my fault blah blah blah. So i half-heartedly agreed to them.

Friday came, yesterday, the interview. I am very anxious for someone who will be the one asking the applicants lmao. I already have been interviewed before for college applications and somehow remember the feeling, nerve wracking, whatever. To calm my nerves, i listed questions which i never got to ask properly btw, but at least i have concrete ideas on what to ask. The first interviewee was my very closed friend and so we just laugh and laugh and laugh HAHAHAHAHA. IDK if dean saw it but who cares. And the next and next and next. 3:30 passed by fast and guess what??? YOUR BASIC GUY HAS THE MOST NUMBER OF APPLICANTS TO THE POINT THAT DEAN CUT MY LIST. IT WAS EXHAUSTING BUT VERY FLATTERING. I FEEL SO HONORED. i really thought and very scared at the thought that no one will apply to me but wtf, just wtf. Ranking my applicants was damn hard. 1 i have a dream team but one was cut by dean; 2 this could make my friends mad; 3 this will be the group for the whole year; 4 i am really exhausted. But still, i submitted the list. I was hoping for the people i chose to choose me back. Only two out of three did, i am forever grateful.

Still on Friday, the classmate who invited me to the Shell thing and Dean had a zoom call and discussed about the competition. That classmate told dean what i told him the other day that i might be the reason for the decision of having the selection process done. He told me this through a voice memo, katamad daw magtype. A voice message that i played over and over again. Dean actually find me interesting (?), Invested (?) Idk exactly but the classmate told me na 'may nakikita daw talaga sya sayo. Na grabe ka ka-practical as a person like yung ideas mo daw sa plant design napakasimple lang pero napaka practical to the point daw na madami nag apply sayo kanina. And then, you need more confidence lang daw talaga' so ig, you basic guy is a practical guy now. It's just flattering.

Now, whatever happens, i must meet those expectations right? This could be a lousy motivation but what is if there's none? I dont know why im writing this. I just thought i should get my thoughts out. Ver 2.0? Turning point? Let's just do good 😌

PS I put this on my bio on FB, guess im getting more public, and if you happened to read this because you saw the link on my bio, send me a message about you thoughts.

PPS if your initials are JTZC, these have been my week and i miss you even though you're not interested in me anymore, you are hard to forget

[leupagus]

My Stationery Box, or: The Douche Chest, or: How I Learned To Stop Worrying And Love Being A Terrible Parody Of Myself

So I really love to write letters, and have since i was a kid — when i cleaned out my grandparents’ house I found a few I’d written in grade school, and my parents’ files are chocablock full of the weird collage type things I sent to them in college. 

I’ve also been a huge insufferable fucking snob about stationery since way too young (yes I did have a fountain pen phase, no it did not go well) and have been collecting fancy paper and cute cards and assorted weird writing paraphernalia forever. Up until recently, things were just kind of haphazardly stuffed in various drawers and shelves and I could never actually find any said fancy shit when I wanted it; but a couple of months ago I discovered an adorable little chest of my late mom’s that had previously housed, I think, her knitting and has mostly just been collecting dust since. And voila: The Douche Chest was born:

(Pictured with my elderly laptop and coffee with my coffee warmer, which I STRONGLY ENCOURAGE everyone to buy one day when we’re not under worldwide quarantine, seriously it will change your life.)

Keep Reading for some top tier stationerdery

First off, the stuff that helps me write! I still use my family address book, which was purchased sometime in the early 80s and has the name and address of everyone my parents ever cared enough about to want their name and address, which is actually not that many people. I keep it updated and have added a few people, but mostly rely on my phone’s address book. Mostly I like it because it’s got a lot of my mom’s handwriting.

My planner, which has a whole correspondence section where I keep a record of who I write to regularly, when I write to them, and what kind of stationery they usually get (because there are different types and you don’t want to give a correspondence an inconsistent letter-reading experience! Yes I know, I can’t believe I’m like this either) indicated by the m, s, x, l, b notations. That will be relevant later. Also yes the planner is where I scribble down both story ideas and my gratitude journal. This is what I’m saying in re: yikes.

At my own house, I have a whole huge box of letters I’ve gotten over the years, mostly organized by sender and date. Since I’m at my aunt’s house for quarantine, my correspondence is all being kept in my dad’s old... I dunno what to call it, basically it’s a trapper-keeper type thing that I literally never saw him go to work without. (A running theme of this tour is that a whole lot of this stuff is inherited from/given to me by my parents and grandparents.) Inside is also various labels that have come in handy when addressing packages etc, as well as our local neighborhood directory.

Next up is my pen bag, which is — I mean, it has my pens. I prefer writing with a black .5 tip rollerball type pen, and by “prefer” I mean “I cannot abide writing letters with anything else and will go to Staples and buy a new box rather than use a ballpoint pen except obv not right now, which makes the bag real important for keeping track of all my special pens.” Also pictured: my grandpa’s ancient letter opener that I’m pretty sure he stabbed multiple people with, and my blue Le Pen which I use to annotate my letters when I’m reading them through before sending. I KNOW.

This is my assorted letter-writing stuff storage box (no we’re not even at the cards yet this is TERRIBLE); please note that I sort of jerryrigged this box together myself, which will be another running theme of this tour. Glue, roller whiteout thingies, washi tape (which I don’t really use but people keep sending me?) post-its and my address stamp because no matter what I do, the fuckin’ Audubon Society refuses to send me a single donation request with cute stickers showing my address even though they’ve sent my deceased dad like three THIS YEAR. Anyway. Also please note the incredibly awesome initial stamp thing — I came up with the rough design in college and use it in place of my name a lot, but I went to leoniebunch and they transformed it into this super professional and lovely design that I want to use for the rest of my life. Not pictured: the fucking wax seal I also had made with that design, because yes, I’m like this.

WE’RE STILL NOT DONE WITH THE PARAPHERNALIA: here’s the other misc. stuff that I use on the regular. Cup with sponge because we’re not really licking envelopes these days: tons of weird stickers that I’ve collected, YET MORE PENS, including rainbow ones because one of these days I’m going to write to one of my friends with alternating rainbow colors and they’ll have to murder me. Also pictured: the letter opener which I forgot to put back in the pen bag, as well as my dog’s nail clippers and brush because that’s a handy place to keep them. Also also pictured: my dog, who does not help in any way with letter writing.

OKAY FINALLY ONTO THE STATIONERY, Jesus just writing this all out is making me both proud and ashamed.

I’m sure you noticed in the first pic how everything is meticulously, not to say monomaniacally, labeled. Some stuff might require a little bit of explanation; some stuff is pretty wysiwyg though. For example, BEAR CARDS, which:

(These are sent exclusively to my nephews, who go absolutely apeshit over them every time. Come to think of it, I have a LOT of cards/letter stock/etc that is just for one person or one set of people, which maybe I should talk to my therapist about.)

PUN CARDS are likewise exactly what you think they are; they’re the most recent addition to my hoard, having found them at Powells when I went to Portland in February. They are extremely My Kind Of Thing.

Then you’ve got things like BIRTHDAY CARDS, THANKS, POSTCARDS which like — guess what:

(Please note that of these birthday cards, all but two were actually inherited from my grandmother who passed away in 1986. See if you can guess which two are my purchases.) (Also I’m running out of thank-you cards but to be fair I am rarely grateful so this should last me another few years at least.) (Also shit, I didn’t take a picture of the postcards I don’t think? Whatever, they’re postcards that I’ve either inherited from my parents or collected over the years. There’s also a very odd collection of wolf-themed cards that SOMEONE in my family collected, and that I have been using exclusively for allighater because she’s the only one who could ever appreciate them enough.)

Then there’s the BLANK CARDS and BLANK AND WRITTEN CARDS WITH/WITHOUT ENVELOPES, because sometimes I just need to know what I’m getting into before opening the boxes. I’d say a good 50% of these were inherited from my folks, with the cutsier ones being my own purchases. The cards that these boxes originally contained are looooooooong since used up but they’re nice boxes and that meme about adulthood being an endless debate over whether or not you should keep a box because it’s a really good box is accurate as all hell. 

(There are a lot of cards in here that I bought when I was like, in college — those square ones, for example, were purchased at Faces in Northampton when I was in college and I’m probably never going to actually send them which is kind of ridiculous but see: this entire post.)

And finally, the actual letter-letter stationery! Which I also have an embarrassing amount of! First up is what’s labelled MADOC TREE CARD/LETTER because I honestly had no idea how else to describe it; it was inherited from my grandma who everyone called MaDoc (on account of her being both a ma and a doctor, go figure) and it’s really lovely. I doubt it’s the original intention, but I like to unfold the paper and use both sides of it, because I always have a lot to say. These are used only for family members on MaDoc’s side, and of those, only the ones I really like, which accounts for there still being a lot left.

Then there’s the X-LARGE paper, which isn’t actually that large — it’s just normal computer-sized — but in context is the biggest stuff I’ve got. All of this paper is from my mom, who loved using cute themed paper, and I use this stuff mostly for the friends of hers I keep in touch with (which is actually kind of a lot).

Then there’s the letterhead I use for — okay, so like, we know by now that I’m deeply weird, but this is probably just DEEPLY WEIRD, but whatever, you came this far. So I found a metric shitton of 6 3/4 envelopes in amongst my parents’ office supplies — I have literally zero idea why they had about 5 100-count boxes of these envelopes but I’m one of those people who can never, ever throw shit out, so! I gathered together all the letterhead that they’d also collected over the years from the various universities and hospitals they worked at, cut said letterhead down so that it a) didn’t have University of Tacoma or whatever still on it and b) perfectly fit a 6 3/4 envelope if folded three times. The resulting shape is a little... odd, I’ll admit, but it pleases me greatly and that’s the important thing. In fact this has been my go-to correspondence choice for a couple of months now.

(Also pictured: the cover for this hinky-ass box I made out of a Beekman 1802 box from when we went to their store for their Rose Apothecary popup shop. Zero regrets. Not pictured: the really cute pad of paper I also use for these envelopes that’s a more normal size and shape because where’s the fun in showing you normal stuff?)

And finally, my pride and joy, my Crane Stationery, some of which I have had since I was in high school and my mom bought me a box of it for my birthday (I told you, running theme). It comes in small, medium, and big; yes, I absolutely have rules as to who gets what size of these, too. The medium box kind of fell apart a few years ago so I cobbled a new one together; Crane stationery is notable for not being as exciting as that cover might imply. I’m also kind of pleased that I still have the airmail stationery that I got in college that apparently isn’t sold anymore, which I find baffling because what the fuck is the point of international correspondence if you don’t have to use special stationery? Anyway:

(In re: the lined sheets — I actually have them for every size, because I loathe lined paper but also loathe writing crooked, hence these guides that I put under each sheet as I write. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ )

So that’s the complete guided tour! If you aspire to have a collection as viscerally unnerving as mine, feel free to send any questions my way. You’re welcome/I’m sorry.

[unbelievableholland]

Love, Me: Prologue

Pairings: Peter Parker x Stark!Reader

Warnings: Alcoholism, death, bad coping mechanisms

Words: 1,200

A/N: It's hereee!!! I'm excited! This part is relatively short, but it'll be longer next time, I promise. As for the Moodboard, I'm still working on it. Can't find a good combination of pictures😅

Edit: After a few hours, I finally got the Moodboard done!!! I hope y'all like it❤️

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“Uhm, hi. I’m Peter. Peter Parker.” Shakily, he holds out his hand for you to shake. He seems nervous, and he is. I mean, you would be too if you met the daughter of Tony Stark. Well, that is, if you’re not already the daughter of Tony Stark.

Smirking at the boy who— you can tell— is buzzing with excitement, you hold out your hand as well. Shaking his hand, you introduced yourself, but he beat you to it.

“I-uh, I know who you are actually. Mr. Stark told me about you a-and I hear about you in the internet. Y-Y/N Stark, right?” You hum in agreement, laughing slightly when he realized that he was still holding your hand and retracted it.

You decided to ignore his blushing cheeks entirely though, for his sake.

“Peter Parker, you’re that Spider guy, right?” Still, you retain that classic Stark smirk on your face. Proud of yourself for making him blush a little more.

“It’s Spider-Man” looking down as he mumbles.

“Well Spidey, I can tell you’re an interesting guy. Dad told me you had some prototypes for your suit you want help with?”

He looks up and his face lights up at your comment, looking a bit relieved that you didn’t point out his awkwardness. “Uh, y-yeah I do. C-Can we go use your lab or something? I-if you d-don’t mind I m-mean. If y-you even have a la—” giggling, you cut of his rambling.

“Yup! I do have a lab, and yes, we can use it.”

Just as you’re about to take him to your lab, your dad enters. Smiling when he sees that you’ve already introduced yourselves to each other.

“Ah! I see you’ve met my daughter, Underoos. How’re you getting along so far?”

“W-We’re good, M-mr. Stark.”

“Yeah, I was just about to take him to my lab to check out the prototypes.”

His smile widens at the thought of his two favorite kids getting along. Especially at the thought of you, finally having a friend your age.

“Well Peter, I need to talk to my daughter for a bit. Just go straight ahead and to your left, you’ll see her lab. You can’t miss it. Friday will unlock it for you,”

“O-kay. Th-thanks Mr. Stark.”

“No problem, kid.”

While Peter walks away, stands beside you and leans closer. “How do you like him so far?”

Grinning, you shrug.

“To be honest, he’s great. I think he’s cute.”

Those are the times you treasure most. You wish it could’ve stayed like that. Before all of it happened.

The stones, the snap, then the war. Those five years you lost that you can never get back. The time you could’ve spent with your father before he ultimately sacrificed himself for the good of the universe.

Everyone feels like they’re waking up from a deep sleep. Like they’re being pulled out from the void, mostly because they practically are.

It isn’t long until Strange told everyone what is actually happening, and why they need to get to the compound— or at least, what’s left of it.

After he told everyone how long it’s been, that’s where the panic struck. You got this weird feeling in your gut that something bad is about to happen.

And you were right. Because now, you’re standing in front of your very injured father. Pleading— begging— for him to pull through.

“H-hey, dad? I-it's me, Y-Y/N. I’m back, you did it. You saved us. I—” You can’t take it anymore as your legs turn to jelly and you fall down, hugging your dad before it’s too late. Telling him how much you love him, how you always will, like your life depended on it, because it probably does. “I l—love you, dad. Please don’t go” you hug him tighter, somehow trying to keep him alive.

“Hey, m-mr. Stark? Y-You did I-it. We won. We won mr. Stark” You don’t think your heart could possibly break even more, until you see Peter. Hands holding Tony’s chest plate, crying just like you. Each and every person that’s there, has their heart breaking for the two kids in front of them.

Tony doesn’t say a word. Even when Pepper talked to him. You all but hear him say, “Hey Pep.” and flash one last small smile before his arc reactor shut off and he drifted off to sleep.

You weren’t usually like this. You never wanted to be like this, but after all the nightmares and the panic attacks, you didn’t know what to do.

So, you turned to alcohol. Trying to numb yourself as everybody else talk to each other while grieving. You were always the one to cheer them up. You never wanted to look weak in front of them, so you decide to suffer alone.

You don’t want to be a burden to anyone.

Right now, in your room, you look at the pictures of you and your dad, as well as the ones with Steve and Natasha in them.

You clutch onto the frame with the picture of you and your dad in it, walking towards your desk and chugging down a bottle of red wine. Yes, you’re hurting, but you don’t want anyone to see that. They’re hurting as well. Especially Peter.

Peter. God, you miss Peter. Your father’s death has caused a big wedge in your relationship, but luckily, you know you both will be able to go through this. You just need to talk to him.

Putting the bottle and the picture frame down, you grab a towel and prepare to go to the bathroom. You miss the times when Peter would have to tackle you so you could stay in bed with him.

You’ve texted him, and he’s texted you.

But it’s not the same.

No routine I love you’s or good morning’s anymore. Just plain texts to see how each other’s doing. You haven’t seen each other for a while since your father’s death, but you know it’s alright.

You just have to open up to them. To the remaining Avengers, and Peter. You need to be better for them, because you can’t let yourself push them away.

Tony wouldn’t want you to do that. Natasha or Steve wouldn’t either.

So, with all the strength you could muster up, you message Peter before entering the bathroom.

N/N😘❤️: Hey Pete. I want to talk to you about something. Wanna meet up later around 8:00 at my room?

Pacing around the room, you try to calm yourself down while waiting for a reply.

But ultimately, you decide to clean your room. Hiding the bottles and sobering yourself up before taking a shower and brushing your teeth.

The warm water immediately calming your nerves and brushing your teeth, ridding you of your alcoholic smell.

Even though you’re eventually going to tell Peter about this, you don’t want him to see you messed up.

As you get out of the shower, you hear your phone ring, notifying you of a text message.

Spidey🕷️💕: But Ned and I are going to MJ’s to hang out. Maybe next time? Really Sorry.

N/N😘❤️: It’s fine. I’ll just tell you next time. Have fun :)

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Permanent Tag List:

@spideylovin @used-avocado @why-am-i-so-obsessed-help @annoylinglyaries @autobotgirl15-blog @shootingstarsaretearsofheaven @tiffy119 @eridanuswave

Love, Me Tag List:

@averyfosterthoughts

[lvlyhao]

Moments (Tom Holland x reader)

A/N: first Tom one-shot I actually completed! The reader is a female since it’s what I am used to working with. If I keep writing, I’ll try to make everything GN. Sort of proud of this, and I hope you all like it^^, and if you do, please like and reblog! 

Warnings: none. This is pure fluff.

Info you might need: Castellucio is a small village in Italy, and a very pretty one at that. It’s known for the flowerings that take place in the fields, every Spring. There are fields of lentils, poppies, violets... and I chose the red poppies.

Y/N = Your Name. M/N = Middle Name. L/N = Last Name. H/C = Hair Colour. E/C = Eye Colour. F/C = Favourite Colour. 

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When the first rays of sun peek through the sheer curtains, Tom’s eyes flutter gently. The world is hazy the moment he opens them, seeing the entire room melt golden under the light. The air feels warm and balmy over his bare skin, immersing the two bodies in amenity as the early birds chirp outside.

Two bodies.

Finally coming to himself, the brown-haired boy stirs under the satiny sheets, looking for the glow of his lover. When his hand bumps into her, his heart beats faster. There she is, fast asleep, snoring softly and sprawled on her back. Her delicate skin seems velvety where glorious drops of light dance upon it. Her hair, H/C and silky, spreads over the ivory pillow like a halo. Soft, swollen lips give out peaceful breaths, and her hands are neatly folded over her stomach. A dot of glimmer attracts his gaze, and on her left hand, he finds the elegant ring. His ring, that he gave to her just yesterday.

Thinking back to that moment, it seemed like ages ago. The crimson fields of poppies of Castellucio encircled them and contrasted with her F/C dress—the one he always said was his favourite. His chocolate locks were an absolute mess from the wind, and he could only imagine how sweaty he looked, wearing a polo shirt and dress-pants under the scorching sun. Y/N didn’t seem to mind it that much, though. 

The second he kneeled on the grass, she started sobbing and grinning like a dork. It was endearing, how she couldn’t refrain from smiling even when he was talking about their (many) embarrassing memories. That tiny detail made him fall even harder for her. Every sliver of doubt he had left dissolved when she interrupted his speech, falling to the ground in front of him and lacing her arms around his neck. 

“That was enough”, she had muttered, “just ask the damn question already!”. Tom chuckled, reviving the way his voice cracked when he followed her request.

“Y/N M/N L/N, darling”, he grasped her hands, “will you marry me?”

Tears flowed down their faces as she nodded soundlessly time and again, too thrilled to find her voice. He slid the ring in her finger and they stood there, arms around the other and bawling their eyes out. For an instant, there was nothing else there—the flowers were gone, the Sun was hidden by the clouds, the winds turned into a breeze and even the smell of the Italian summer vanished. It was just the two of them, clinging onto each other for dear life and drowning in the chaste feeling of love. It was easily the best moment of his life.

Was it really?

Drinking in the sleeping figure of his fianceè, Tom thought about the day he met her. 29/04/20, a Wednesday, when he went live for the Marvel pub quiz. It had been genuinely amazing, to interact with his followers like that. He could still hear Harry's voice, telling him what to do to invite people to join the transmission.

“Such a grandpa”, he had said, shaking his head in amusement. Tom ignored him, randomly calling a username from the live chat to answer the final question—what does S.H.I.E.L.D stand for? 

The bright face that popped onto the screen one second later took his breath away. She had the most beautiful E/C eyes, sparkling with kindness and life. H/C strands framed her face, and her smile made his heart skip a beat, even with the low quality of the video. 

It was like everything around him froze; no one dared to move, fearing the moment would shatter. 

Except for his brother, though, seated to his left. 

“Oi, mate”, he nudged Tom, “read the question.” 

The brunette boy snapped out of it, covering his blush with a smirk and pretending he couldn’t hear Haz snickering behind him. Is it that obvious? 

Yes, of course, it was. How could it not be, when not only was she the loveliest girl he had ever seen but also a Marvel fan?

Y/N got the question right, not missing a beat when he asked. The three of them, on the other side of her screen, cheered a bit louder than necessary, and then he ended the live. Both his brother and best friend teased the hell out of him for the next few days. The fandom, of course, made memes about it, and eventually, Tom slid into her DMs. It was the beginning of a wonderful friendship.

Tenderly clasping her right hand, not to wake her up, the boy shifts and stares at the ceiling. It is painted baby-blue and makes him think of the sweater she wore to the first Christmas spent with his family.

While juggling university and her job after quarantine ended, meeting his family wasn’t a top priority for Y/N. She and Tom always spoke about it, guessing how it would be like, but she was not ready the day he made the offer. 

“Go to my family’s Christmas Eve dinner. I promise you it’s gonna be awesome, they’re gonna love you! And if you feel comfortable, you can sleep there and spend Christmas with us. If you don’t, I’ll find a way to get you home in time. Please, love”, cue puppy-eyes. She couldn’t find it in her to say no to that, but she had never felt more jittery than in the week before the dinner.

When the 23rd rolled around, she was tense the entire day. Tom had tried everything to make her unwind, from running a hot bath to giving her a massage and attempting at making muffins (which turned out burnt and very salty). When he started to feel as helpless as his girlfriend, 5 pm struck, and they left to his parents’ house. The ride there was made in silence, only broken when he turned to her to whisper how much he loved her.

The next 2 hours or so went by in a blur. He couldn’t exactly spot how it all went—the first contact with his brothers and parents, finally meeting Haz, introducing her to Tessa… the first memories of the actual dinner began with what she told him, days later, about the exact moment she clicked with everyone.

The first person she befriended was Harrison. He was very sweet, keeping her company when Tom would leave to help his mom with something and making her feel at ease. The one point that made the two grow close was his cooking. She had seen both the hot bread and the pancake video, and just couldn’t help but bring them up. At first, he seemed quite bashful, but when Y/N said she couldn’t cook either, he decided he liked her. They talked for a long time, telling their most awkward cooking stories, and Tom watched everything from afar. I knew they'd get along.

Next was Harry, the sassy younger twin who seemed sort of intimidating. It’s not that he was mean, not at all, but he had a strong presence and for a split of a second, she thought he hated her. The tables turned when she mentioned her interest in photography and directing. It was all laughter, jokes and deep conversations by the fireplace after that, talking about some of their favourite films, photographers and directors. Harry turned out to be very kind, and the time she spent with him made her feel welcome.

With Sam, things were a bit different. Whenever Tom mentioned the twins, she thought the two of them would hit it off immediately. Apparently, though, she was too shy to initiate any kind of interaction with him and vice versa. Haz sensed her discomfort from the other side of the room and went to her aid. For the next 45 minutes, he acted as a bridge between them, keeping the chat going until they were talking like old friends. They bonded over the fact that they were huge Marvel fans, and discussed several theories for the next movies, as well as their favourite characters. Oh, how she loved the twins.

Getting to know Paddy was a challenge as well. He wasn’t timid but also didn’t seem very interested in talking. For most of the time, he played with Tessa quietly, time or another chiming in with a remark about something. It didn’t help that he was the youngest. Thinking back to everything Tom had told her about him, she couldn’t find a single topic to bring up. He was a high school kid, and that summed up everything they didn’t have in common. What would she talk about? Physics? Football? 

Things only clicked in her head when Tessa left his side to come to lick her hands, asking for pets and tossing around a rubber ball. So Y/N went outside and played catch, mutely hoping the boy would come around to play too. Soon enough, he did, and she bonded with the two of them at the same time.

By the time Nikki and Dom were finished with dinner, they were the only ones she hadn’t talked to a lot just yet. All the nerves that had gone away while she got to know the boys were back the moment everyone sat at the table. 

That was it. His parents. If they didn’t like her, chances were slim the relationship would last very long. Tom was a family person, and she'd never make him choose between them and her. 

She put on a charming smile, praying they’d get along, and complimented the food. A lot. Probably way more than she should, but there was no stopping now. It was her anxiety talking the wheel, after all. Luckily for her, they took it as a sign she was putting effort into making a good impression, and that was enough for them.

In one month, she was the closest thing to a sister the Holland boys had ever had. Things were fantastic after Christmas, and Tom could see a bright future for them. Waking up by her side was what he loved the most, but he could go on and on about every little thing he adored in her and their relationship.

One time, he did. It was their anniversary of two years, and Tom giggles at the mere thought of that. Everything that could have possibly gone wrong with his plans did go wrong, and he cried in front of Y/N, thinking he had ruined their special day. She took him in her arms, standing in the downpour at his favourite beach, where they were supposed to have a nice picnic. A long-forgotten basket was by her feet and the two were soaked to the bone, feeling a rainbow of emotions at once. 

Of course, she wasn't particularly cheery, but seeing Tom like that hurt, so she pushed her own frustration aside to take him home. There, wrapped tightly in 3 blankets and with a cup of cocoa in his hands, Tom was spoiled to death. They watched a bunch of Pixar movies, ordered pizza, took a bath together and, when the clock struck midnight, went to bed. 

The day was perfect, just not in the way she and Tom had imagined. It was better, actually, and the British boy decided to show her that with an impromptu speech. He had never been very good with words, but when he delicately cradled her face between his hands and began talking about the reasons why he loved her, he couldn’t stop. He told her about every tiny detail in her, from the way her nose crinkled when she smiled to how considerate she is. Recalling the moment she shut him up with a teary kiss, Tom realized he might have a tendency to overdo speeches. 

Now, lying side by side with the person he treasures above any other, he feels overwhelmed with love. The urge to take her in his arms, hold her close and defend her from the world brings a grin to his face as he gapes at her once more. Her eyes are starting to flutter, and soon she’ll be awake. 

Then, they’ll make plans for the afternoon and the night, since the morning is ending at this point. They’ll build one more memory for him to think about and laugh, and to someday tell their children about. They’ll go and live their dreams, cherishing and caring for one another. They’ll go and live thousands of perfect moments, because every moment by her side is the best of his life.

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tagging some people I love here: @chaoticpete​ @underoosjae​ @spider-parker04​ @gwenvrse​ @lost-space-ranger​ @allegra-writes​

[misslavendertown]

🌹My thoughts on Steven universe future!🌹

WARNING this post contains a lot of steven universe future spoilers if you haven't seen the new episodes and don't want to be spoiled don't read. I would put a read more link below the warning but Tumblr mobile sucks.

Little homeschool

So Steven can heal corrupted gems using a mixture of what I expect are the diamonds escents? Maybe it's from the extraction Chambers? I can't remember what they're called but yellow's sauna and blue's bath.

Pamphlets about being uncorrupted. Kind of makes me think of those awkward puberty pamphlets you get from school.

The next few minutes are just the trailer.

Connie's preparing for college. I'm so proud. 😊

Pearl teaching gems how to use phones is just golden. Also Holo Pearl is back.

"took me forever to pull those puny green earthlings out of the ground" "you mean grass"

People are gonna hate me for saying this but I actually kind of feel bad for Jasper I think she's bored. She just wants to fight maybe she can take up boxing or wrestling. You know what never mind she'll kill the first person who steps in the ring.

F I G H T M E!

Steven putting a bubble around baby birds to protect them from him and Jasper's fight is purest thing I've seen on the show.

Pink Steven shows up but we already knew about that.

Steven seeking guidance from Jasper disturbs me. This obviously isn't going to end well.

Guidance

Guidance counselor amethyst!

Mr. Smiley has gem employees now maybe he can finally get some sleep. Does anyone remember that?

Amethyst assigned human jobs to the gems and a lot of them are doing jobs they did on homeworld. Steven has a big problem with that but I'm not going to be quick to judge him because I also had a problem with it and I'm sure I'm not the only one who did.

I thought little larimar would be smaller

Larimar and snowflake have I've powers. It's really hard not to make a Frozen joke.

Snowflake seems to have a "male" voice like rainbow 2.0 I think it's Ian Jones-Quarty voicing them but I could be wrong so don't get your hopes up.

I just hope people won't start thinking the gems have genders. The gems don't have genders and I'm tired of explaining that to people.

"I wish to hear the humans scream forever" - little Larimar 2019

Steven is becoming a bit of a control freak that must be the diamond in him.

Uncle Andy is back.

One of the rubies has a #1 body guard mug. I love the idea of a Ruby drinking coffee

As expected Steven forcing gems to do things they suck at goes horribly wrong and now there's all kinds of crazy stuff happening including a runaway rollercoaster.

SMOKY QUARTZ RETURNS!!

Pink smoky and they have super speed now or Steven has super speed. they're so fast everything is slow motion like that one episode of regular show with the double glazed apple fritters.

For some odd reason amethyst never questions Steven's new abilities but then again she probably doesn't know that it might be a bad thing.

Some of the gems actually enjoy what they did on homeworld. Amethyst is a really good guidance counselor I'm really looking forward to seeing more of this in the future.

"sometimes you save all the people and the rollercoaster still crashes into the ocean....and that's okay" words of wisdom.

Amethyst found out who she is and what she wants to do.

Larimar likes children and now she hands out prizes for them at one of the game stands.

"I love their laughter it's sounds just like screaming"

"OH NO WE FORGOT ONION!!! eh he's fine"

Onion is immortal apparently. Whatever it's onion don't question his logic.

Rose buds

The homeworld humans are back! They've taken control of the zoo after the diamonds freed everyone and now it's a cruise ship.

J10 and y6 being salty about Greg not choosening them. J10 annoyed at the amethysts for being lazy. I guess he doesn't realize that's how cruise ships work.

Holly blue agate and the famethyst are back! Holly doesn't know how to relax.

THE BUBBLED ROSE QUARTZ GEMS ARE FREE AND THEY ACT LIKE TEENAGERS. THEY'RE SO CUTE!

They consider Steven their hero and are super excited to see what the Earth has become since they've been. There's only three of them staying.

Steven feels overwhelmed by all their questions and accidentally invites them to dinner.

Only three of the roses come a bubbly rose, a laid back rose and the one we saw in the trailer

As expected it's super awkward for everyone the gang isn't ready to face them yet.

They call carrots carrot beans and it's so adorable. I love them so much.

Greg considers the human zoo humans his exes. He mentions he hasn't had this many exes in one place since and then he's cut off I would like to know more about Greg's exes and the incident he was talking about.

"I can feel the rest of my hair falling out!" -Greg Universe 2019 seriously though poor Greg.

They all hide in the bathroom.

The rose quartz want to stay with Steven. he's uncomfortable around them but doesn't want to seem rude and hurt their feelings or make them feel unwelcome.

SLUMBER PARTY!!!

Steven tells the roses how he really feels and turns out they were faking their feelings too. They're really hurt over what happened and they know what Steven is going through with the whole pink diamond fiasco and their conflicting feelings regarding her. It's a very sweet and touching moment between them.

Steven considers them siblings now because they were all created by pink diamond and understand what it's like living in Rose's shadow

I know they don't stay on earth with Steven but I hope we get to see the roses again before the series ends.

Volleyball

Doctor Steven > Doctor Mario don't @ me.

long necked Ruby is hilarious

Pink Pearl's crack can't be healed by Steven's spit.

She doesn't remember being under White's control which makes sense. She was under her control for 8000 years.

So Pink hurt pink pearl why am I not surprised? 😒

I think she's still grieving obviously. Again trailer stuff.

Pink pearl is older than pearl

Some Pearls were made on Earth and the facility doubles as a repair shop. It also has accessories basically it's like a place where you can get your phone fixed and shop for phone cases and other stuff.

Pink pearl is a ribbon dancer. That's what they're called right?

The problem isn't her gem it's a psychological thing.

Gems can damage their physical forms without damaging their gem. That's very interesting and I don't think we've seen this in the show before.

Pink had destructive tendencies It was a tantrum that hurt pink pearl after being denied a planet and gave her PTSD or something similar.

Maybe it was PD hurting Pink pearl that made the other diamonds realize she was a force to be reckoned with and that led to them giving into her demands and giving her Earth.

Seems like those destructive tendencies are starting to come out through pink Steven. Maybe the corrupted Steven theory is right?

Steven should really consider anger management but hey puberty will do that to you. Just kidding I am genuinely concerned.

Apparently the Pearls were both in denial and kept making excuses, never really accepting who PD really was. pink pearl kept saying "she didn't mean to hurt me" this is clearly a metaphor for abuse.

The crack must've been caused by her burying her feelings.

I swear rose/pink gets worse every episode I get she was abused herself but that's not a good enough excuse. Not saying I don't like pink diamond l just hate the things she's done.

I love how the two Pearls bonded over pink hurting them and how they never stopped hurting. it's so sweet and wholesome how can you not ship it? Pearl's gotta stick together.

PEARL FUSION SHE HAS A CAPE!!! SHE LOOKS LIKE A QUEEN!!

I'm assuming the fusion's name is red pearl.

I can't tell if it's a different voice actor playing the pearl or if Deedee is speaking in a low voice.

They didn't show pink Pearl's eye so whether or not if it's healed is up for interpretation.

I think this is easily my favorite episode so far.

[thelowlysatsuma]

“Stop pretending you’re okay, cause I know you’re not.” Prinxiety

 prompt 15, huh? sounds good

edit: i started this with the intention of making a drabble. next thing i knew, it was not only a full oneshot, but one that i actually bothered to edit until i was near fully satisfied with it. so anon, who asked me for this? thank you. i haven’t finished any writing in so long, and so i’m really grateful that i managed to make this happen.

Love Me Like You

“Stop it!”

Roman breaks off his laughter, grin frozenon his face as he takes in the intruder breaking up the sun-stained common roomwith a tasteful slice of shadow. “Stop what, Evanicence?” he asks,lightly flourishing a hand as he forces his eyes to crinkle, his shoulders, torelax.

Virgil rubs at his pinched forehead infrustration, brows furrowed, somehow paler than usual. “That, Princey!” he saysemphatically, waving a wayward hand in Roman’s general direction. “That! Theshow, the act, the– the pretense.” He runs a hand through unruly hair,pacing; air swirling and crackling around him like some ancient, wild flame.

His eyes are desperate, though – desperateand empathetic and deeply, deeply sad. “Stop pretending you’re okay! Iknow that you’re not!”

Roman’s mask cracks for the slightestsecond.

Then, he draws his walls up again. They’retighter now, more secure than before – an armored prison rather than anisolated cell. A million-watt grin is directed to his counterpart, and heshimmies his shoulders playfully. “I’m fine, Finding Emo!” he repliesgenially, twirling this way and that as he distances himself from the other.“Not that I don’t appreciate the sentiment, but there are more important thingsto be doing than cheering up someone who doesn’t need it, ya know.”

From Virgil’s flat stare, Roman gathers hedoesn’t buy it. The prince stays cheerful, however, hoping upon hope that theuniverse will give him just this one break. Virgil turns around to face thedoor, and internally, Roman sags in relief.

“I’m not blind, Roman. Or deaf.”

Ah. Well. Looks like the universe hates him,then. Oh well. Just another name to add to that particular list.

Roman lets his expression fall flat. “Whatdo you want, then, Virgil?” he grits out, longing to step closer but nottrusting himself to do so. “What do you expect me to do, huh? I mean, I get it!I’m not important!”

The hoodied figure shrinks the slightestbit, but stays silent. Roman begins to pace, frenetic energy looping andcoiling around him like a cobra ready to strike.

“I know you guys don’t care about me! I knowthe fans don’t care about me, and– and that the only reason I’m still hereis because Thomas needs me to keep creating.”

He’s striding turbulently. There’s a stormin his mind, and it’s pulling itself out of him with each slap of his feet onthe carpeted floor. The energy in the air is lightning crackling around him;each word out of his mouth, thunder roaring through the room.

“I get that I’m loud, and that I’mobnoxious, and that most people barely put up with me. I get thatnothing I create is good enough – could ever be good enough! Andbelieve me when I say that I understand how pathetic it is that theonly person who wants to compliment me is flippin’ Deceit!”

His voice is catching, some distant,detached part of his mind notes. And his hair is a wreck.

Roman ignores it.

“But even he doesn’t want to, really,does he? He’s just using me, and I’m pathetic enough that I’m strungalong anyways! And look, now I’m a liability, too! Now I’m failing at the onlything I thought I could do, which was protect you guys! But no, Ican’t even get that right!”

He rounds tempestuously on where hiscounterpart had been standing but a moment ago, but his sudden, maniacal grinfalls on empty air.

“So give it up, Virgil!” he announcesgrandly, spreading his arms wide as the harsh, stinging energy in the roombites at his face and his eyes, claws bitterly at any inch of exposed skin itcan get its hands on. “I’m just a fai-”

His voice breaks, and Roman grinds to aprecipitous halt.

The room is suddenly both too big and toosmall, a swarming, echoing mass around him. Silence. The colour drains from hisskin. His eyes widen, then scrunch up against the telltale burning at theircorners. His fists clench, a nervous swirl gusting around them like afrightened cat.

“A failu-” he tries again, but to no avail.He laughs dryly, swiping at his eyes with a hand. Then, abruptly, crumples tothe ground in defeat.

“Look at me,” he says, chuckling wetly. “Ican’t even say it right, that’s how pathetic I am.”

Roman doesn’t know where Virgil is, anymore.He probably left. It doesn’t matter, anyways. It’s not like Roman’s aware ofmuch anymore beyond the sweeping of his bangs low over his eyes, or the turmoilin his head.

(And it’s not like Virgil ever cared in thefirst place.)

“I wonder if you had the right idea backthen, after all,” he murmurs, blank, unfocused stare hanging heavily down byhis hands. “Thomas could theoretically go on without a Creativity, after all.”

His head drops to his knees, and hescrunches his face against the onslaught of tears.

“Maybe I should just go–”

“No.”

Roman’s head snaps up. 

And it’s Virgil.

Stormy, temperamental, passionate Virgil,light from the overhead lamp burning a halo of fire around his head like anavenging angel. Virgil, the look in his eyes as vehement as his denial ofRoman’s self-deprecation. Virgil, hands on his hips, commanding, and strong,and solid, and reliable, and real.

Virgil, beautiful Virgil.

The darker man crouches down to Roman’slevel, and he instinctively flinches back from his outstretched arm. Virgilnods easily and pulls back a half step, letting the offer of comfort standwhile making sure not to encroach on his counterpart’s boundaries.

“Listen, man,” he says, words as caustic asusual but voice soft, kind. Like he was trying to calm a wounded animal. “I’mnot the best at this. I know I’m not. But those thoughts that you’re havingright now? About being too much, and not being able to protect Thomas, and notbeing good enough?” He locks eyes with Roman, voice turning serious but facestill so, so kind. “They’re wrong.”

Roman’s breath hitches and he raises an armto protest, but Virgil cuts him off gently. “I know, man, I know. It sucks. Believeme, I know. Those thoughts used to be what went through my head every timeI looked in a mirror.”

Roman’s eyebrows furrow as Virgil gives adry, self-deprecating chuckle. “Hell,” he says, pushing his bangs out of hiseyes to better see the other, even as his counterpart shrinks back at thatpiercing, all-consuming gaze, “a lot of the time, I still get them.”

Roman swallows. Once. Twice. Again. Shrinksin on himself. Blinks a tear away. “How do you do it?” he finally asks, voicesmall and hoarse.

The question is vague, but Virgilunderstands nonetheless.

“I…” he says, glancing awayself-consciously, “I don’t, sometimes. Sometimes it does get too much.” He tugsat the stings of his hoodie nervously, tying them into abstract knots andshapes, rubbing the rough, textured fabric over fingers like he has a milliontimes before, and will a million again. “But when it gets to be too much for meto handle on my own – or even before that point, whenever I can muster up the-the courage or whatever, I… I go to the others. I go to Pat. I go to L.”He presses his lips together into a thin, nervous line, then releases them.

“I go to you.”

Roman looks up, pointing at himself indisbelief. ‘Me?’ he mouths near-silently, unable to process it. Virgilsmiles, small but present and oh gods, so proud. ‘You,’ hepromises back.

Proud. Of Roman.

“We don’t say it a lot,” Virgil says,licking his lips anxiously, running a hand through that wild, wild hair, “butgod, Princey. You’re– you’re…”

The corners of his lips twitch up into thatsmall, confident half-smile that Roman could swear is reserved for him and himalone, and the world is spinning around them and he’s getting light-headed andeverything’s twisting and turning and whirling but it’s safe, god, it’s all so safe,because Virgil’s here, Virgil here and Virgil’s smiling, and Romanswears he can hear his heart pounding in his ears, but this time, the weight onhis chest isn’t crushing him – rather, it’s taking him in its arms andcomforting him, and Roman can feel the entire world crashing around him atonce, but this time, there’s a burning flame on his side, and it’s vowed to bethere for him.

And slowly, slowly, Roman returns theother’s gaze. And in it, he sees all the stars in the sky reflected back athim, because Virgil’s looking at him like he could give him the moon.

“You’re incredible,” Virgil finallywhispers, soft brown eyes meeting the tear-stained face behind a very old mask.“You’re more incredible than I think I could ever put into words.”

He takes a deep breath, steadying himself.Unconsciously, Roman mirrors him, heart rate slowly but steadily calming downas a soft, sleeve-covered hand reaches out for him

“So I know that you feel like crap a lot.And that’s okay. You’re allowed to feel like crap. But– but when you do…”

(And this time, Roman lets it.)

“When you do, I hope you’ll let someone bethere for you.”

It’s not spoken, but the ‘I hope you’lllet me be there for you’ rings through the air just the same.

And Roman shatters.

He collapses into the other’s arms, tearsstreaking down his face, muttering jumbled ‘I’m sorry’s and ‘Thankyou’s. Virgil holds him, lets him ride out the rest of the storm with acomforting hand rubbing circles into the small of his back and a warm, lowvoice muttering anything it can think of into his hair.

And, slowly, haltingly, stutteringly butsurely, the rain in Roman’s mind subsides. The storm clears up. And sparklingsunlight breaks through the dark clouds.

There’ll be bad days again. Of course therewill.

But, here, on the off-white carpet, with awarm body next to his and a stunning mind and sharp tongue and the mostbeautiful flame he’s ever seen ready to defend him from any evils that dare attack,Roman thinks that maybe, just maybe, he’ll be ready.

by the way! i’m getting an ao3 soon, so be on the lookout for that!

taglist under cut

@loganberrysanders @spectralheartt @artistgracie @coconut-cluster @falling-out-trees-101 @0beansprout0 @anony-phangirl @poppiesss

[hardforbenhardy]

somebody to love | rogerxreader

summary: roger fucking taylor. the boy in your biology class. the boy you’ve had a crush on for years. the boy who doesn’t know you exist. has recognised your existence. 

warnings: swearing, drinking, references to sex and stripping

word count: 4.0k

the first chapter of my upcoming fanfic! i’ve been working on this for a while, and it’s still not finished so i’m not sure how often i’ll update, but i’m planning on having a taglist for it so if people do like it, they can be alerted of when it comes out (if you want to be added, just pm me or send in a request!) i’m immensely proud of it and i think it’s some of my best writing - a lot of research went into it so i’m happy with the outcome so far and i hope you will be too. enjoy!! :)

There truly was no worse day than a Saturday.

I know, I know - but Saturday's are the best! There's no school, no work, you can sit around and chill all day, or go out clubbing with all your friends; maybe even pull a dude or two...

That may be the case for every single other person in the world, disincluding you. You see, your life is a little different to the usual person. Most people do spend their weekends sitting around, or going out with their friends, pulling girls and guys every night. You, on the other hand, spend it studying and working. You can safely say that taking a BSc in Biology at North East London Polytechnic was maybe the biggest mistake of your life yet. Don't get yourself wrong, you am good at it. In fact, you’re top of my class - you just struggle to balance all the studying with your job and family life.

Hence why you are sat at your dinner table, surrounded by a sea of glossy biology textbooks which contain much more information than your brain is willing to retain at this point. The words had began twisting in your eyes, no longer forming sentences but rather just squiggles on a page. Your pretty sure you have read the same page 3 times in the past hour, all information going through one ear and straight out the other. What the fuck was a bacteriophage? Or what about it being icosahedral or filamentous? And what was the difference between the lytic stage and the lysogenic stage? At this point, those weren't even words. Okay, so maybe you have been sitting here since 11 this morning, it now being 7 in the evening, but this was your standard Saturday. Having work every weekday in the evenings - 7:30pm until 3:00am - with your classes then starting as early as 9:00 on certain days, you didn't exactly have enough time to study on weekdays. Sleep was practically nonexistent for you by now, you were lucky to even get in 4 hours a night. Unfortunately for you, work also existed on Saturdays. You are probably thinking why don't you study on Sundays? Well, because Sundays were family days - you’d have to travel 3 hours to see your Ma and Pa, who would tell you how proud they were of you, doing a BSc in a subject that would get you far, and having a solid job that brought income for the whole family. Granted, they had absolutely no idea what your job actually was - and it isn't something they will ever know - but you don't really have a choice. You need to pay for your accommodation somehow, and contribute to the families bills after your father got fired from his job and went into severe debt. Therefore, it was a job you resorted to. In fact, you have work in 30 minutes, and here you are - trying to cram in a chapter's worth of course content for a test you had on Monday, surviving on nothing but coffee and energy bars.

You felt your arms begin to weaken under the weight of your head as you placed it into your palms, your eyes beginning to flutter shut as you gradually dozed off, the lack of sleep taking it's revenge. It wasn't until the loud, boisterous voice of your roommate interrupted the silence.

"Y/N, darling, have you seen my- Oh, love, what on earth is this disaster?" He cringed, sitting opposite you on the table, as you frantically sifted through the mound of worksheets for one in particular. "Look, darling, you need to sort this out. You look like you've been dragged through the bushes and back - you have work in 26 minutes and you are not even dressed!"

"Wow, thanks Freddie. Look, I don't really have a choice - if I don't have this topic nailed, I may just fail my exam, and then what? My life rides on this Fred, and I'm completely and utterly fucked if I fail." you wearily ranted, a yawn escaping your lips, which certainly didn't go unnoticed by Fred, as he placed a fresh mug of coffee in front of you - unbeknownst it was your fourth one tonight.

"Y/N, don't be so dramatic - there is only room in this flat for one hysterical queen, and I'm afraid I took that role many years ago. There is absolutely no way that you, Y/N M/N L/N, could ever fail a biology exam - you are the top of your class, and as much as you deny it, you know this content like the back of your hand. Look, I'll prove it - what is a bacteriophage, and what are the three possible shapes?"

"It's a virus which can infect and kill bacteria - the capsid of a bacteriophage can be icosahedral, filamentous, or head-tail in shape." The words simply rolled off your tongue, as you kept my focus on the textbook in front of you.

"Told you so, bet you were questioning in your head just 5 minutes ago what the fuck a bacteriophage is, and all that other shit you just said. I know you like the back of my hand, darling - you underestimate yourself far too much. Now put the fucking books away and get ready for work!" He nagged, taking a long sip of the glass of champagne he had acquired out of nowhere - typical Freddie. You didn't even respond, just simply rolled your eyes before rising to your feet to head upstairs. Freddie knew how much you hated your job, it was not exactly one praised by society. You’re what people would call an exotic dancer - or more commonly known as a stripper. It wasn't an occupation you asked for, it was rather one that was simply opened at a rather opportune moment for you. You can safely say yoinwill be taking the chance to quit as soon as you get your degree and can move on, but you’re stuck with it for the time being. You hate it on multiple levels - the feeling of having multiple older men's gaze set on your body, as if you were some kind of object, their minds wandering to all the things they could do to you if given the chance - it wasn't exactly a nice feeling. It is truly disgusting the amount of times you have been called a whore, slut, slag, floozie, tart, or prostitute - the list is ultimately endless at this point. What is even funnier is that it tends to be these same people who then turn up to your showings later on in the evening, indulging in your performance like every other male in the club. To make it worse, people often tell you you’re lucky to have guy's attention all the time - as if you should be proud of the fact that you have a body and face admirable by men. You always thought that was complete and utter bullshit - why the fuck should a guys validation make youbody and face suddenly attractive? Thankfully, most of the men who came to the club tended to be a little older than yourself - meaning there was never any guys from the university, or even better your class, who would come by. The only person who actually knows your truth is Freddie - who even though he did disapprove of it, would always try to cheer you up and make you feel more confident about it. You see, Freddie is extremely overprotective of you, he treats you like his little sister - he always wants you out of harm's way, always makes sure you were eating and getting at least 5 hours of sleep each night, always lends you money in your most desperate times of need, and opened his home to you the night you met him. It's funny actually - you remember that night so extremely vividly. He had come along to one of your performances, and ended up bumping into you backstage - you engaged in a conversation which lasted nearly the whole night, and before you knew it, it was 2am. He asked to walk you home, to which you simply had to reply with the fact you didn't have one and you were just planning on crashing on the couch in your dressing room. Of course, Freddie being Freddie invited you back to stay with him - any other person would be immediately cautious of the request, but at this point you had nothing to lose. And here you are, a month later and you were now living with him. He was basically the best roommate you could ask for.

The club is like a second home, or house - you wouldn't consider it very homely. Although the case was rare, if there was ever a point you couldn't stay at Freddie's, they allow you to sleep on the couch in the dressing room. Thankfully, your colleagues and the manager are all extremely nice people, it is more the visitors who get on your nerves and made you sick to the stomach. Basically a majority of the other girls you work with are in the same position than you; they are either college students just trying to pay off debt, or teenage mothers whose boyfriends left them after finding out they were pregnant who were trying to finance their child - everyone had their own individual story but in a way, you were all similar. Like you said, it is a second home to you, so when you stepped inside for the 6th time this week, it felt no different. The strong smell of booze and drugs no longer hit you like a brick, but rather became a second nature to your brain. The booming music, blaring at top volume from speakers which were scattered in nearly every crevice of the room, had become the norm for your eardrums - which realistically is bad for your health, but you didn’t think that's the thing that'll kill you at this point. The masses of men crowded around tables no longer made your stomach churn, now it just became the same old same old. You weren’t actually on stage until 8:00 tonight, so you don't know why they had you in half an hour early - you had already finished your makeup and got dressed. You leant against the bar, downing the first of what would be many complimentary drinks you would receive over the night - as much as you hated the job, it did have it's benefits. Free booze was probably the best thing to come out of it, when men would buy you drinks in hopes of getting you in their bed - all of them being nearly twice your age, they were never successful, but it was fun to watch 'em try. They would often strike up a conversation with you, the topic of which was always him, meaning you’d stand there responding with simple nods and the occasional burst of laughter - your mind in a completely different world of its own, usually a world of worry and anxiety of failing your exams.

"So, where is it you work? I could definitely see you working in an office or as a lawyer, I can imagine you would look very professional in a pantsuit, or even on the front cover of Vogue, you certainly have the body" The man, who had now situated himself beside you, practically purred. Was he seriously asking where you worked? What an imbecile. The whole ordeal is making you sick to your stomach, earning an eye roll in an instant - though you thought you’d play along to see where exactly he was going to go with this.

"Well, you wouldn't be interested in my life..." you laughed lightly, slowly and seductively inching closer to him. "But... I'm interested in yours. Tell me, where is it you're from, I love your accent."

"Oh, well I'm sure that isn't true, but I was actually born and bred in Italy - I moved here a few years ago, but thankfully I never lost the accent; it's a great tool for getting the girls in bed - especially the incredibly tempting ones such as yourself." He purred down your ear, you felt his breath on your neck and yourblood suddenly ran cold, as he placed his hand against the curve of your spine. Tempting?

You laughed under your breath in utter disbelief, your blood began to boil - how can someone be so small minded and narcissistic, yet spend their weeks in a strip club. "So you think I'm tempting?"

"Obviously, I mean you're super sexy and you really turn me on." He winked, and you stared at him incredulously.

"Well, you wanna know what I find incredibly tempting about you?" - he didn't speak, just simply nodded as he took a large gulp, as if he was intimidated by you. You moved closer, so that your hand was now placed against his inner thigh, and raised to your tiptoes - "There's just a deep pit burning in me, it's almost irresistible - just the thought of it is alone is so extremely enticing. I just have this immense desire to..." you whisper seductively in his ear, right as you ram your knee between his legs, making him cry out in a yell of pain and fall to his knees. " Do that." you grinned, before grasping the drink from the counter and gradually pouring it onto his head, the alcohol seeping through the thin material of his shirt, surely leaving him in a satisfying discomfort for the rest of the night, as if the hit to the balls wasn't enough. "And that"

"What the fuck? You fucking bitch!" He screamed, his voice going higher than you ever thought a man's voice could go, probably a side effect of his now undoubtedly swollen and painful misters.

You didn't respond, simply sashaying away as you raised my middle finger in his direction. You must say, after months of working in this club, you have practically become immune to the disease you like to call men. They just don't turn you on anymore. Don't get yourself wrong, not all men are like that - for example, Freddie is undoubtedly one of the sweetest human beings to walk this earth - but it seems like the men you’re surrounded by are basically parasites. Probably just a side effect of working in the hornets' nest, all kinds of trouble was stirred up in this building, it pretty much became the second (less sexual) form of entertainment for the customers. And you guess it's just your luck, because now it's your calltime. Your favourite time of the night - not. You entered the door, sighing a little. Come on, Y/N, you got this girl, just a little while longer and you can be back in the comfort of your bed. You always have to give yourself a little pep talk as you walk towards the door of what was, in a way, the gateway into Hell. That's if hell was a strip bar full of cheap and sleazy, lest we forget to mention mostly married men. All staring at you like food on a silver platter. It is quite frankly, disgusting. The walkway this week had silky, white curtains that the dancers usually appear through; as if to give the 'illusion' of us being 'angels appearing through the veil of the heavens'. You called bullshit on that one, that's also partly the reason your outfit was made up of a satin white robe, covering your lacy white lingerie. They also recently decided that the dancers should dust themselves with gold glitter before going onstage - thinking it might make you seem a little more angelic. Of course it doesn't, but you couldn’t lie - you looked incredible; the insubstantial underwear hugs your body in all the right places, yet still leaving little to the imagination; and the shimmer of gold across your chest only accentuating it more as the bright lights radiates your skin; your long locks flowing down your back, swinging with every step you took as you saunter onto the stage. Sudden cheers and whistles erupted from the crowd, the oh so familiar sound permeating the room with energy and excitement. The noise only increased as you little by little slid the satin piece down your shoulders to reveal the straps of the two-piece underneath, letting it slide down your body completely and pool around your feet on the floor. Usually, you would feel comfortable on stage, the fact you were borderlining nudity wouldn't phase youbone bit; but something felt different tonight. You have the same audience, the same form of outfit, same routine - but something feels strange, out of place, and you can't quite decipher it. You brush it off, knowing it's probably just nerves, and continue with your set - swaying around the stage, showing off your assets from every angle; and that's where you saw him.

Hidden in the corner of the room, he sat in a dimly lit spot making him barely visible thanks to the broken light which had been smashed a few days ago in a drunken bar fight. Perching forward in a lounge chair, he continually lifted the lit cigarette that was resting between his middle and index fingers towards his rosy lips, taking long drags every few seconds. As his golden, scraggly-but-still-well-groomed locks were clinging to the sides of his face, you notice his steel blue gaze dancing over your body as he scans you up and down.

Roger Fucking Taylor.

The same Roger that was in your biology class. The same Roger that was constantly trying to one up you and be the top of the class (unsuccessful in his attempts of course). The same Roger that you had had a crush on since you the course. The same Roger that didn't even know you existed. He had never been partnered with you, never spoken to you, never even looked in your direction. When you first entered the course, you had heard all about Rogers, how do I put this nicely, reputation with the ladies - making youbinstantly cringe at the utter disrespect of some of the things he had apparently done with them. But after a few weeks, you couldn't help but be drawn to him - he has an undeniable charm that he probably doesn't even know he's using half of the time, he is incredibly intelligent, and it is indisputable that he is the human form of the Greek God, Adonis, himself. You hate yourself for feeling this way, you always attempt to push it down as you know it'll do you no good in the long run. Like I said, Roger is known for his wild adventures with the women; and you weren’t one to participate in the activities of said adventures. Having a job as a stripper, people expect me to be extremely confident and out there, a lively socialite who is the life of the party, always being the centre of attention. I am, in fact, the complete opposite. When I'm not at work, I'm exceedingly reserved and introverted - I have one friend, Freddie; I only ever contribute to class when asked a question, other than that I sat at the back taking my own notes; I spend any spare time I have at home watching tv or reading a book. Therefore, I know I have a 0.00001% chance of Roger even acknowledging my existence - which I am fine with. I accepted my defeat months ago. And now, he's sat here watching me dance around, practically naked.

After finishing my set, I pace off stage- praying to Jesus that Roger didn't recognise it was me. He barely even notices me in lessons - surely he doesn't know me. What if he does though? What if he goes around school telling all his friends that I'm a fucking stripper? I'd be well and truly fucked - and not in the good way. I have never left the club faster than I did tonight, throwing on my clothes and fleeing through the backstage exit. My head is pacing, as clouds of worry and thought occupy the space - how am I ever going to face Roger again? What if he tells people? What if he is disgusted by me? I can feel my hand shaking as I try to unlock the apartment door, in which I throw open and slam behind me.

"Home so early, darling?" I could hear Freddie's voice from the living room shouting through, before the loud pop of the champagne bottle in his hand - presumably his second tonight. I threw my bag to the side before storming into the room and slumping down next to Freddie on the couch, releasing a large sigh.

"Yeah, work wasn't great" I groaned, noticing Freddie gesturing for me to take the bottle in his hand, to which I took a big swig in response; making Freddie chuckle.

"When is your work ever great? What's wrong, love?" He raised from the couch to grab himself a glass, knowing I'm not giving up this wine bottle as easily as he hoped.

"As you know, a majority of the men we get at the club are at least twice my age. Well, you remember Roger Taylor right?" I mumbled, focusing my attention to Freddie's glass which he held out in front of me, pouring the liquid in slowly as to not spill it all over the both of us.

"From your class? The one you have an undeniable love for? Yeah, I know him. What did he do?"

"Well, he turned up. He was sat in the back of the room. What am I to do Fred? What if he tells people that my job is basically prostitution? My life will be ruined. Not only that, but now my crush has seen me borderline naked, and prancing around the stage like some kind of... well, stripper" I cringed at the thought, it sounded a little stupid. Surely, I'd want my crush to see how good looking I can be? Not one bit.

"Oh god, what on earth was he doing there? Sounds like you have a bit of blackmailing yourself - Roger Taylor in a strip club-"

"Is exactly where I'd expect to find him if I'm being honest Fred - you know what he's like. I'd be surprised if it wasn't a place he visited everyday" I chimed in, I'm not lying. He is exactly the type of cocky, arrogant little shit who would find bliss in a strip club.

"Look, everything will be fine - you have two options, darling. You can either avoid him for the rest of your life, hoping he doesn't share the secret and ultimately ruin your life forever. Or you can fucking own it, and strut into school tomorrow like you are the shit and give Roger a piece of your mind - it's up to you, but I'm rooting for the second" Fred explained, trying reason with the one person he would never be able to reason with. I am quite stubborn when I want to be, and now is one of those occasions. "Now get to sleep, if you are home this early you should take advantage of it. Oh, do you have the money for rent?"

"Shit. Fuck. Fred I'm so sorry - I left in such a rush that I forgot to pick it up. I'll pay you Monday? I'm so sorry" I frettered, eyes widening at the realisation I not only couldn't pay Freddie, but I also can't pay my parents when I go down tomorrow.

"Darling, it's fine - I'll give you this week free of charge. You deserve it with all your hard work!"

Mouthing a small 'thank you', I smiled and nodded before slumping upstairs to my bedroom. As I reached my bed, I noticed all my biology books, which were previously scattered across the living room table, all stacked in the order of importance for the exam on Monday. I grinned to myself at Freddie's attempt of helping me study, although I know he only did it because he hates when I leave my books around the apartment. I can barely sleep, my eyes are refusing to close and my mind wanders back to Roger with every attempt of rest. I can't help but agonise over the situation; knowing something was going to go wrong and my life was going to be ruined.

[helloalycia]

fake dating [one] // brie larson

summary: your mum decides to visit you after so long, causing you to seek approval in ways that are... unorthodox.

warning/s: none.

author's note: this turned into like a 6 part-ish mini fic lol so prepare yourselves! (if y'all don't like, I won't post the rest lol)

two | three | four | five | six | seven | masterlist 

     "Mum! What are you– why– huh?"

    "Lovely to see you too, dear," my mum said, inviting herself into my flat. "It's been a while."

    I blinked several times, shutting the door behind her. "It has... how did you even know where I lived?"

    She took off her expensive-looking coat and I watched as her eyes scanned the room, searching for a place to hang it. She decided on hanging it on her arm, holding it to her chest, as if there was nowhere good enough for it.

    "It wasn't very difficult," she said, a judgemental expression on her face, eyeballing my flat. "No help from you, might I add. You've never invited me over."

    "I didn't think you'd want to come," I admitted, leading her to the kitchen.

    I motioned for her to take a seat on the stool as I put the kettle on, knowing she'd want a cup of tea.

    "You never asked, so how would you know?" she countered, resting her hands on the countertop hesitantly. "Besides, I didn't come here to make you feel bad–"

    "Oh, that was just a plus..."

    "–I came to invite you to my wedding," she finished, making me stop my actions for a moment. My back was to her, so I couldn't see her face, but I was taken aback myself and tried not to show it.

    "You're marrying Isaac?" I asked, finally turning around, my face expressionless.

    "I am," she said, a small smile on her lips. "He proposed a few days ago."

    I nodded and my mouth formed an 'O' shape. I wasn't sure why I was feeling weird about this whole thing. It's not like I didn't like Isaac – he was a lovely man who cared about my mother. In fact, he was the only person who could set her down from her high horse and make her seem more human-like. It was just so random, I guess.

    "I thought it would be fitting, seeing as you're my only child, for you to be my maid of honour," she said, meeting my eyes.

    I heard the kettle whistle and accepted the distraction, deciding to fill our mugs with water. I was adding the milk when she cleared her throat.

    "It's rude not to respond, Y/N," she said, making me roll my eyes. Same old mum.

    "Congratulations," I answered, turning around and setting a cup of tea before her. "When's the wedding?"

    "Next week," she said, making me raise my eyebrows with surprise. "Being wealthy has its perks. We've already planned most things. It's in Hawaii. A week long. I'm hoping you can make it?"

    My jaw dropped. "Hawaii?!"

    My mum rolled her eyes. "Yes, dear. I've already got everything sorted out. Including your tickets. Will you come?"

    "I guess that wouldn't be so bad, but you said tickets as in more than one. Who are you expecting me to bring?"

    "I know you don't tell me much on our weekly phone calls, but I'm assuming you're with someone," she said, sure of herself.

    "Well, actually I'm–"

    "Bring them with you," she said sternly. "I don't want you to show up–"

    "Alone and embarrass all of your rich upper-class friends?" I finished, holding my mug and smiling knowingly at my mum.

    "Don't put words into my mouth, Y/N," she said, narrowing her gaze before wrapping her hands around her own mug. "I just want everyone to know you're doing well. Even if it means bringing that blonde-headed girl with you."

    I furrowed my eyebrows. "What– Who are you talking about? What girl?"

    She pointed a finger over her shoulder. "The framed photo? Of you and that blonde? She's your girlfriend, right?"

    I almost choked on my tea. "You mean Brie? She's not–"

    "I'll try not to be too offended by the fact that you hid this from me," she interrupted, once again not listening to a word I was saying. "It's very like you to not tell me anything important happening in your life–"

    "Mum! That's completely–"

    "–but I'm happy for you, Y/N. And I'm excited to meet her. I know I'll probably only be introduced at the actual wedding but–"

    "Mum, she's not–!"

    "–I'd appreciate it if you arranged a meeting before then," she finished.

    I sighed through gritted teeth. This was one of the reasons she was so infuriating to me. She never listened to a word I said, instead choosing to listen to what she wanted. This was one of the reasons I distanced myself from her.

     “You know, it's good that you're with someone," she added as an afterthought. "I wasn't sure you would be, considering..."

    "Considering what exactly?" I asked, raising an eyebrow.

    "Well, you've not exactly achieved a lot, have you?" she said knowingly.

    "I'm a school councillor and I help teenagers get through difficult times," I said proudly. "I think I've achieved quite a bit if it means making someone's day easier. It's a rewarding career."

    She stifled a smile. "If you say so, Y/N... look, I know I don't say it much, but I'm proud of you. Technically I haven't seen you both together, but to know that you're in a relationship is a good thing. I'm excited to meet this 'Brie' woman."

    I paused, finding it odd to see her staring at me with a sense of pride. She suddenly chose to express her feelings when she thought I was in a relationship? I hated that I felt like that little girl I once was, trying her very hardest to make her mum proud. Because now I felt the need to do it again, even though I knew I didn't need to.

    "Darling, I'm home!" Brie's familiar voice called through the flat, followed by the sound of the front door shutting and her laughter.

    "I wasn't aware that you shared flat with her," my mum noted, smiling over the rim of her cup before taking a sip.

    I facepalmed at the sound of Brie's footsteps nearing us. It was a bit between us – pretending we were a married couple because we'd been living together for two years now. Right now though, I could see how my mum thought otherwise...

    "Y/N, I have the funniest– oh! I'm sorry, I wasn't aware we had company," Brie said upon entering the kitchen. A friendly smile was on her lips as she dropped her bag by the counter and stood by my side, opposite my mum.

    "Brie, this is my... mum," I mumbled, gripping my mug. "Mum, this is Brie..."

    Brie gave my mum her perfectly angelic smile and outstretched her hand over the counter.

    "Lovely to finally meet you, Brie," my mum said, and it was the first time I'd seen her smile without it being because of something business-related or Isaac. She shook Brie's hand, saying, "Y/N here never mentioned your existence, but it's a pleasure."

    Brie chuckled, looping her arm through mine and pulling me close. "I'm not surprised. It took me a while to dig basic facts out of this one when we first met. It's a pleasure to meet you, too, though, Miss Y/L/N. Y/N's actually mentioned you a few times, so it's nice to put a face to a name."

    My mum seemed surprised at this, as she shot me a look. She looked back to Brie, smiling.

    "Please, call me Y/M/N, Brie."

    I looked between the two, the agitation I was feeling towards my mum slowly disappearing as I saw her looking genuinely happy and, dare I say it... proud? Was this finally a way to make her actually see me?

    "...Y/N will share the details with you but you must attend our wedding next week."

    Brie raised her eyebrows. "Wow, really? I mean, we've only just met and–"

    "You're important to Y/N, so you're now important to me," my mum cut her off, before standing up. I won't accept anything other than a yes." She was adamant, though her tone was lighthearted.

    Brie laughed. "Okay, I guess that's a yes. Especially if it means I get to see this one in a dress." She nudged me playfully, making me smile a little.

    "Tickets are already taken care of," my mum said, reaching into her coat pocket before setting two sets of tickets on the counter. Brie looked to me with surprise. I didn't know what to say at this point. "I must get going now, but thank you for the tea, Y/N," my mum said, finishing her last sip before standing up. She looked to me with a genuine smile and sense of pride, making me feel lighter. Was I actually impressing her? Just because I had a (what she thought to be) girlfriend?

    "Er, yeah, no problem, mum," I said, letting go of Brie and leading my mum to the door.

    "It was a pleasure to meet you, too, Brie," my mum added as I opened the door.

    "Congratulations on your engagement, Y/M/N," Brie said, smiling. "Thank you again, for inviting us."

    My mum returned the smile, making me do a double take. She was actually happy. She stopped at the doorway, looking between us both, before nodding at me.

    "You're a lovely couple," she complimented, and it was probably the third time in my life she'd paid me a compliment. "I can't wait for my friends to see you both."

    Brie chuckled. "What? Wait, d'you think–"

    "Thanks, mum," I interrupted Brie, instead intertwining our fingers for my mum to see. I looked to Brie, giving her a look. "D'you want to say thank you, darling?"

    Brie seemed to understand, though I could sense her confusion. Nonetheless, she plastered a smile on her face and pulled me close, looking to my mum.

    "Thank you, Y/M/N," she said, flashing my mum her signature Brie smile, though her cheeks were now a little pink. "And thank you for stopping by."

    My mum pulled us both in for a brief hug, making me freeze up with shock. She wasn't the touchiest of people, so this was definitely a rarity.

    "I think we should meet up before the wedding," she said when she pulled away. "How would you girls like to come to dinner at mine? Tomorrow night? Y/N, you know the address."

    I was taken aback at her invite. She was thinking about me. Wanting to know me. What alternate universe was I on?

    "Sure thing, mum, we'll be there," I said to her. Was I that desperate for an ounce of my mum's attention that I'd lie to her? I guess so.

    "Yeah, we'll see you then," Brie added, smiling, though I saw her spare me a confused glance.

    "Perfect. I'll see you then." My mum gave me one last look over before turning to leave.

    I closed the door behind her before releasing a breath, feeling the tension in my chest unknot. Same effect, as always.

    "Care to share what just happened, sweetie?" Brie said in a teasing high-pitched voice, raising our intertwined hands.

    "My mum happened," I groaned, going to the couch to flop onto it face-first.

    "Y/N, why does your mum think we're dating? It now makes sense why she would suddenly invite me to Hawaii when I just met her, but yeah, I'm a little lost still."

    I heard Brie's voice get closer and I assumed she was sat on the chair beside me.

    "Because she likes to think she has the perfect daughter when she doesn't," I said, my voice slightly muffled.

    "Y/N..."

    I sighed before sitting up, meeting Brie's concerned gaze. "I'm sorry... she just came out of nowhere. She's never even been here. She's getting married and wants me to be the maid of honour so she can impress all of her rich snobby friends. And she thinks we're dating because she saw a photo of us and didn't listen to me when I tried to tell her we weren't."

    "Well, you might want to tell her otherwise because she thinks we're going to her wedding..."

    I smiled awkwardly. "Maybe because we are...?"

    Brie raised her eyebrows. "Y/N?"

    "Oh, come on," I said, trying to sound convincing, "it won't be bad! She already thinks we're together and I've never seen her look so proud of me before. Did you know that was the first hug she's given me in three years?"

    Brie widened her eyes. "Really?"

    I nodded. "She and I aren't very close... she cares too much about what other people think of her. Of me. I left as soon as I could afford to and have been fine ever since. We talk every now and then, but nothing meaningful... she's my mum, though, and I guess I want her to be proud of me. This is the first time she's been remotely interested in my life. She invited me to dinner tomorrow! She's never done that!"

    "Y/N, that sucks and I'm really sorry," Brie started, a frown on her lips, "but this is crazy. We can't just be girlfriends to impress her. You can't lie to her." She avoided my eyes, her cheeks growing pink, making me wonder why she was suddenly so embarrassed.

    "Oh, I can," I said, nodding my head. "Look, it won't be long. Just her engagement party and the wedding and it's done. Plus it's in Hawaii, so it'll be like a holiday! I just want her to be proud of me. It won't be hard, I mean, we're already close and how many times have people thought we're a couple?"

    She quirked an eyebrow. "Never?"

    "The mail man!" I pointed out, a little unconvincingly. "Remember? He thought we were girlfriends."

    "He was also sent to prison for perving on the neighbours," she added, studying me curiously.

    I waved my hand dismissively. "Prison, shmison. Look, I'll love you forever if you do this one thing for me."

    "Oh, so you don't love me forever now?" she asked teasingly, a smile tugging at her lips.

    "You know I do," I said, returning the smile. "Come on. What could go wrong?"

    She pursed her lips, watching me. I smiled hopefully, moving closer to her and resting my hands on hers. She sighed, rolling her eyes, as if to distract from her now red cheeks.

    "Fine, I'll do it," she gave in, making me grin and jump on her, pulling her in for a hug.

    "Thank you, thank you, thank you!" I said, kissing her face several times.

    She laughed, shoving me off her. "You're welcome, idiot. Now. I need the rundown on your mother. She's a... unique character."

    I nodded, a grin on my lips. "You got it.

[voiceofreader]

Okey soo since u already did my 2 favorite hoes from bnha I would like to request another a-z but with Lotor (vld)(he is the best boi and he deserves the world)

YASS I AM SO HAPPY. Lotor is my love. He deserves the world. I got too excited with this. Ope. Anyways, hi there~! thank you for the request ❤

Lotor (Voltron Legendary Defender) A-Z (smut)

A = Aftercare (What they’re like after):

-Lotor is an absolute prince afterwards. -Anything you want or need is his command. -He will destroy worlds for you.

 B = Body part (They’re favorite body part as well as their partners):

-I don’t know if hair is considered a body part but it is now. -Lotor loves his hair. I mean, have you seen that beautiful mane? He works hard on it and is proud.-He loves your small and soft hands. Especially when he holds yours in his. They are so adorable to him. (Also they have been known to do some great things)

C = Cum (Anything to do with cum):  

-Due to his Galran heritage, Lotor loves to cum inside you. It’s a primal thing. -Each time he cums, there’s always a lot. -You don’t know where he stores it inside him, cause there is a lot of it no matter how many rounds you go.

D = Dirty secret  (Dirty Secret of theirs):

-While he treats you like a goddess, he wants to treat you like a dirty slut. He wants to tie you up, gag you, the works. Now, of course, he does act out some of his fantasies, he doesn’t do it all cause he doesn’t want to overwhelm you, but if you find out and surprise him, Lord, he will be the happiest boy. Also, you won’t be sleeping that night, and don’t expect to be able to walk for at least a full day. He wants to be a full on dom. But if the relationship is new, he definitely hides it because he doesn’t want to scare you away, and also this side of him has scared others away.

E = Experience (How experienced are they):

-Lotor is a sex god. -He has had centuries to perfect this art. -For your sake, he doesn’t talk about his past experiences, but let’s just say, he was a hoe in his time.

F =  Favorite position (Basically says it in the title):

-Really loves it when you ride him. -Sitting back, one hand on your hip, and the other grasping your breasts. Watching you take him so well.

G = Goofy (How serious are they? Do they prefer joking?):

-He’s usually laid back. -So he’s not a serious guy, and will smile quite often and talk to you in a soft tone. He doesn’t want to make the atmosphere tense, so he’ll make some light comments to keep you relaxed and if that means he has to make you laugh, then so be it.

H = Hair (Does the carpet match the drapes? Are they groomed?):  

-He is very well kept down there. Manscaping is on point.

I = Intimacy (How they are during the moment):

-He is the ultimate lover. -Sweet nothings, encouragement, hand holding, soft kisses. -It’s so loving and cute.

J = Jack off (Masturbation headcanon):

-Isn’t a fan of it. He understands the point, but it’s not a thing for him. -Not to say, he hasn’t done it. But he’d rather have someone else pleasure him than himself.

K = Kink (One of their kinks):

-He really wants to be a bdsm master. Let him be one please. He wants to tie you up, tease you, the whole works. -Seeing you bound and at his mercy, sweet lord, he might just cum right then and there. But if you’re not into it, it’s fine. He just wants what you want.-Buys you a lot of expensive and elegant lingerie cause he loves the way it feels when he runs his hands all over you.-Loves oral. Watching you take his length all the way into your mouth. Fuucckk

L = Location (Favorite place):

-Can and will do it anywhere. -He prefers the bedroom because it’s more decent than his chair in the controls room.

M = Motivation (What turns them on):

-Just you. He is absolutely in love with you and wants to prove it to you. He loves making you feel good and there’s nothing in this universe he wants more. -But, he loves watching you as an independent person. -While he doesn’t want to bother you with the whole war stuff, that’s how he met you, and so he does let you add your input. -When you use your brain and could rival him in the intellect section, boy does that get him going.

N = No (Something they won’t do):

-Doesn’t want to make you uncomfortable. He needs constant reassurance that he’s not hurting you in a bad way, and that you give him your consent to do whatever it is he’s attempting to do. -Also there is no sharing you. Unless it’s something you absolutely want. He’s torn on that and hopes to his dying wish that you never want to ever do something like that but he won’t be able to say no if you do. -Up to the challenge of something new.

O = Oral (Giving or receiving):

-He can go either way. -While it’s absolutely mesmerizing watching you wrap your gorgeous lips around his cock-he loves, and I mean, loves to go down on you as well. -He loves how he has to wrap his arm around your waist to keep you firmly on the bed, because his tongue makes you writhe in pleasure and you can’t stay still.

P = Pace (Are they fast or slow):

-He’s a slow guy. -Takes his time to do the job right. -In his younger years, sure, he might’ve been a rowdy and rough guy, but with you, he’s a slow and steady wins the race type. -Unless you want a new change of pace, then oh boy, be ready.

 Q = Quickie (Their opinions on quickies):

Like I said before, he likes to take his time. -Sex for him lasts for hours and he doesn’t want it any other way. -If you really need him, just whisper in his ear what you want from him, he’ll wrap that meeting up as quick as he can, or behead a guy, he doesn’t care. At that moment he has one mission and that’s to go fuck you. -If you make your desperation really noticeable, he will simply walk away from what he is doing and follow you down to the bedroom. -He doesn’t care that he was in a meeting with the coalition and they’re at a critical point in the discussion and his resources and or his input are needed. You need him more and that’s all that matters.

R = Risk (Will they be down to experiment in risky locations):

-There really is no risky locations with him. -If it’s his ship, or his castle, he just orders his men to keep anyone away from a certain place until he says so, it happens. -He will have armed men standing at the door, blocking entry from anyone.

S = Stamina (How many rounds can they go):

-Forever and ever. -But he knows he can’t just make love to you for days on end and he has to stop at some point if you don’t stop him yourself.  

T = Toy (Do they own toys and if they do, will they use them):

-He has all the toys for your sexual pleasure. -He’s not afraid to use them and he doesn’t think that makes him less of a “man” for using them on you, or letting you use them on your own. -He is comfortable in his relationship with you and if some added stimulation helps, he’s all game.

U = Unfair (How much will they tease):-Depends which night. If he’s soft lover Lotor, he’ll give in all you want. -But if you let him do what he wants, he’ll tease you, and take you to your limit and you might start crying. (but he doesn’t want you to start crying he’s not that unfair to you)

V = Volume (How loud are they if they even are):

-Besides his constant words of love and support, he doesn’t really make a lot of noise. -There’s the very so quiet groans, and then when he gets close it’ll get only a bit more louder.

W = Wild card (Headcanon of choice):

After long love filled nights, the day after, if he has to leave you for some reason. Be it, a mission, a visit to one of his planets, a meeting, anything, he always gives you a present from where he was if he can. Nothing extravagant, those are for another time. These gifts are simple things that he knows you will treasure far more than any jewel or dress. -Shiny rocks, wild flowers, desserts, small trinkets, games, plush toys, a new pet. -Things he sees on his journeys and thinks of you and how you would adore them.

X = X-Ray (What’s going on down there):

-Boy is t h i c c -boy is big-Those Galra/Altean genes did him good.-holy fuck

Y = Yearning (How high is their sex drive):

-Higher than the volume his hair has.-That boy is a sex fiend.-Just for you though.-Sex anytime all the time

Z = ZZZ (How quickly do they fall asleep):

-He’ll stay up a long while afterwards. If you fall asleep right after, he’ll lay there with you, wrapping his arms tightly around you. This boy doesn’t sleep well. But no matter how restless he is, he’ll keep at your side for as long as you need him to be.

I got excited and prioritized this one over the other three I have before it. oops. 

[lyricfulloflight]

L,M,N for the fanfic author asks pls!

L: Favourite fic of yours?

I’m going to assume this question means my favourite fic that I’ve written.

My favourite fic that I’ve written is probably my WIP, The Consequence of Hiding.  It’s a Cherik fic, its now pretty much novel length and I’m almost done.  I have never written anything this long in my life and I am so proud of myself for sticking with it and following through in this idea. I cannot wait to finish it and be able to say I wrote a 100,000 word fic!  It’s such a personal achievement for me.  I also think its a good story and I love the dynamic between Charles and Erik and how this universe perceives mutants is interesting to me.

If you’d like to read it, here is the link:

 https://archiveofourown.org/works/18995308/chapters/45107560

M: Least Favourite fic of yours?

I don’t really dislike anything I’ve written - I wouldn’t post it if I did.  But if I had to choose, I guess I’d say “The Fall”. Mostly because it’s the start of something bigger and I haven’t figured out how to make the next part work yet... I’ve been working away on the follow up for a while, but its just not flowing the way I want it to.  ‘The Fall’ is also really harsh to my sweet sweet Charles, so that breaks my heart.

Again, a link if you’d like to read:

https://archiveofourown.org/works/20432939

M: Do you write smut?

I do.  The Consequence of Hiding has quite a few smutty moments.  They’re mostly quite sweet and fluffy as well.  The smut scene I think is my best so far is in that fic (feel free I send me a message to guess which one that would be if you want ;)).

I’m very new to writing smut though. ‘Downstairs Distraction’ was my first foray into smut writing and I’m still really happy with what I wrote there.  

I have to play around with sex scenes in my mind a lot before I write them and I have completely re-written them in the past.  Smut is not easy to write my friends.

Thank you @gerec for asking!