#i’ve been finding instantly the kinds of clothing i used to look for for years in the states

[goldensunset]

pov a huge twewy/ntwewy nerd visits shibuya part 3

not accessible until so so late in ntwewy but always had something super cool going on when it did (irl this park was. not as big and impressive as i thought it would be)

nefastraven grinding hell (needing a ton of rare metals to get all those special cds… ugh) wish i had a better photo of those signs that said center street oops

the gang gets slapped by the nightmare reality of the game, abandoned by their new dad, forced into a new game, and then… locked inside a gate. in a cutesy loud and bright place. while they’re still trying to process so much awful stuff. (this place was highkey sensory hell but it was cool. but why is that blue anime boy named colon)

rich person store (dang anime poster decimating the whole mirror wall!!!) + plaza where i would soundsurf in a circle for like 20 minutes

ok NOW i think i’ve covered all my stuff. yippee!!! this was so fun

[basicinstnct]

spoonfed / suguru geto

word count: 1,181

tags: yandere, drugged sex, non-consensual drug use, forced orgasm, bath sex, vomiting, implied kidnapping, aphrodisiacs, established relationship (LOL)

a/n: “have you ever read sharp objects?” me:

summary: After a night spent at Suguru's, you find yourself in poor health.

It’s all very funny, mostly. You’d felt anxious, but fine going to sleep last night. Then when you woke up, the first thing you did was run for the bathroom. You’d hoped sheepishly to return to bed unnoticed, but naturally when you walked back into the bedroom Suguru was awake, waiting with a glass of water for you.

You’d tried to play it off, but then you threw up again, and again. After, Suguru held you close, told you not to hide your whimpers. He said something then, almost blurted it like he couldn’t help himself.

“I guess you won’t be able to make that work trip.”

That was right, wasn’t it? You’d had a trip, one you were supposed to leave for today, but you didn’t have one anymore, it seemed. Suguru had slid out of bed for a moment, grabbing his cell, telling you there’s nothing to worry about, he’ll take care of it.

Now, you feel like a frail Victiorian child. It aches to stand, to breathe even. You’d hoped to find your clothes, to get out of Suguru’s place once you’d gained a bit of strength. You couldn’t imagine yourself willingly letting him see you like this in a million years, but now it’s happening and you’re hating every second of it. If you could only leave, you’d be able to take an extended break to recover, so you’d be at your best the next time you saw him, if he’d want to see you again. 

“You should get back into bed.” You hadn’t even noticed his arrival, which wasn’t surprising. However, instead of being amused, you feel pure dread.

“Um, thanks,” you find yourself trailing off. Has it ever been this hard to put one word in front of the other? “Actually though, I should probably go home. I’ve been here too long and… I don’t want to get you sick.”

“I’ll be fine,” Suguru sighs. He seems to glide across the room until he’s right in front of you, wrapping cold hands around your arms to fold you back into his sheets. You were shaking in the frigid air of your boyfriend’s bedroom but swallowed in fabric you suddenly start to burn. It’s not long before you’re hurling yourself over the side of the bed, desperate to preserve some measure of self control, of decency.

There’s already a trashcan there for you, and Suguru holds your hair back as you empty the contents of your stomach. It’s liquid and bits of apple. You’d been so weak he’d had to feed you himself, bits freshly chopped into small pieces. His hand on your shoulder, moving softly over and over on the same piece of skin.

“I feel sick,” you raise your head as much as you can, ashamed of your condition. It’s Suguru who grabs your chin, lifts your head so you can see his face (or so he can see yours). You find yourself surprised that he looks so… kind.

“Maybe the hospital–“

“Don’t be silly,” he says, smiling, “Like I would let anyone else take care of you. Now, into the tub.”

He carries you there, and against his chest, you can hear his heartbeat through his robe, feel it too. You think it’s racing, but it’s equally as possible that your sense of time is just distorted.

He says nothing as he strips your nightgown off you. It doesn’t even make you blush at this point, and he hums softly at your display of reliance. 

The water is hot, so much so that you panic and try to escape, but Suguru’s there to push your shoulders down. Instantly, you sink until the water is just below your breasts. Stagnant, waiting for his next move. 

He drops to his knees behind you, probably so you can’t see what he’s doing. It takes more effort than it should, but you turn your head. You’re barely able to see as he pulls out two capsules from what seems like nowhere, and inside are two yellow pills. You hold out your hand, but he gently pushes it away and holds the first one to your mouth. You don’t fight it, or the second one which comes moments later. Then, there’s another glass of water to drink. All the while, he strokes his other hand through your hair. You’re embarrassed that the gesture works to comfort you.

Suguru scrubs your flesh with a soft brush, using the soap you have at your place. You realize that he must have bought it for his. He washes your hair, your face. He treats you with care, but at the same time it feels a bit like a checklist. Once you’re done with one thing, he’s moving on to something else. Still, it’s all routine procedure, until he surprises you.

“Open your legs,” he tells you, and when it takes you too long to comply he does it himself. Then you feel his fingers cup you there. Suguru doesn’t move them; he only applies a bit of pressure you can barely manage. Precise like a surgeon’s hands.

“What are you doing!” You try to be stern but it comes out like a weak moan. You’re so overwhelmed by the illness, by shame of being like this in front of him, that the slightest bit of something pleasurable stuns you.

“Taking your temperature,” he says with no shame, and you’d never believe that’s really what he means to do. “You’re hot.”

“I bet,” you manage to mutter. When Suguru smiles, you realize your lip is trembling.

“In fact, I think I should cool you down.” 

He thumbs at your clit, kisses your neck. It takes barely that to wind you up. Quickly, you find yourself panting for him, out of breath doing nothing at all. You’re worried how reactive you’ll be if he makes you come, but Suguru isn’t scared to push you there. 

His fingers tease at you, stroking softly, but you whine as he presses harder on your clit and begins rubbing it with soft strokes. Your instinct is to writhe, to shake, but you feel too dizzy with pleasure for any of that.

“This is good, right?” you’re asked, like he doesn’t know. “It makes you feel better.” 

“Suguru,” you plead, but it falls on deaf ears.

He leads you towards your orgasm with commands, stay still even though you aren’t moving. Don’t fight, when you haven’t the strength to try. He tells you to kiss him, and you lean your head back to meet his lips. You feel his moan in your mouth, and he coaxes your tongue to touch his. The hand not working you holds your jaw so you’re stuck to him.

You come like that, with his fingers on your cunt. The feeling is hot and muffled. Suguru kisses you the entire time, whispering words in between. He tells you he’s being gentle for you, that it’s nothing you’ve haven’t taken before, probably a hundred times. He’s not wrong, but you still feel worse than ever when he finally opens you up and slips a finger inside.

[deadlittledogs]

I present to you my humble accounts for today:

I emerged from my coffin around 11pm, my head pulsating from the prior days dehydration. I stayed up until 3am playing an erotic video game and doing the worm on my carpet to get rug burns for fun and I went the whole day without drinking water I guess. In my dream I was lost in a downtown area and old people were poking me with sticks and giving me money. I used the money to take a plane and was excited at seeing snowy mountain peaks down below.

For breakfast I had waffles and sausage and my parasitic twin brother and I yelled at each other the whole time we were cooking and threatening to void the other sibling of their respective nutrients. After we were both fat and happy (and therefore no longer angry) we crawled into our vestigial yolk sac's and watched 3 hours of South Park together.

We decided to go outside because I was constipated and drove aimlessly in a random direction. Going through farmland, we were occasionally hit with the pungent, putrid stench of rotting cow shit. My brother kept hitting his 'orange creamsicle' geek bar in the passenger seat beside me so the whole car smelt like milk and manure.

“Next year I need to get more 'Yaoi',” he tells me. “Will you shave my feet so I look less like a guido?”

I nod in agreement. I’m prepared to make that mental sacrifice and I am an excellent sibling-type creature after all. 2025 is the year of yaoi and we’re both going to become more and more moe until we explode everybody with our telepathic mind powers.

We arrive at the mountains and go through winding roads dusted with debris from the wind. I feel sick, because sometimes when I go places it can feel like I’ve been there before but 'not really'. This area of Washington is completely new but the way the earth looks and the way the heavy gales shove at my boxy car feels both familiar and unfamiliar all at once. It feels like an odd dream I'm just only beginning to remember, but I am in control so I don’t mention it. I drive us deeper into it's unknown girth.

We find a spot called ‘Silver Lake’.

Exiting the car, the wind rustles at my clothing and my hair whips around my face; nothing on me going untouched as I'm misted by a thin curtain of rain. All my nerves tingle at the full body touch; it feels like I’m being molested but in a good way.

We run and splash in the puddles. “I’m 30 years old” I say, and I chase a goose for fun. The lake is deep and green and you can see thick stalks of algae and pondweed below. It's tempting to swim in it but my body is already in a chill, steady on it's way to becoming soaked. We find an unoccupied rental cabin and curiously, I find the door already open. I push it just a smidge with my finger, eager to see the inside of it, and quickly spot a man lurking in the darkness barely illuminated by the shine of his phone. I leave, quickly, unsure if I was noticed but embarrassed nonetheless that it seemed like I was trying to break rules (and was almost caught).

We run in the mud for a bit longer but the rain is really coming down now, so we leave, and we drive all the way back home with our hair curling at the tips.

I make a bowl of canned lentil soup after arriving to help with my regularity, and my brother puts on the episode of South Park where everyone barfs for 20 minutes. It’s not the best combo for this kind of soup.

Almost instantly I get the devil in me and I write this as I warm up my feet from the cold bathroom floor. A cleansing was due after all, so I’m not too traumatized. One day I think my future captive will be extremely pleased with how often I need to lock myself in the bathroom for 3 straight hours to do unspeakable things to the poor, honest toilet-chan.

Overall, it was an okay day, and tomorrow I will shed myself of my pus and shit and skin and walk naked through the city, hell at my fingertips and the holy spirit leaking from the engorged blood vessels in my eyes. Don’t even get me started on my awesome bush.

I hope this entry finds you well.

Your's truly,

Bear-kun.

[vrilgothic]

Excerpt from an interview with Ted Kaczynski (aka Unabomber) in which he recounts his day to day life in the forest:

BVD (the interviewer): What was an average day like for you in Lincoln?

TJK (Ted Kaczynski): That’s a very difficult question to answer because I don’t know that there was an average day. My activities varied so much according to the season and according to the tasks I had before me on a given day. But I will describe a representative day…

TJK: …Well, let’s take a day in January, and let’s suppose I wake up about 3:00 a.m. to find that snow is falling. I start a fire in my stove and put a pot of water on. When the water comes to a boil I dump a certain quantity of rolled oats into it and stir them for a few minutes until they are cooked. Then I take the pot off the stove, add a couple of spoonfuls of sugar and some milk—made from powdered milk.

While the oats are cooling I eat a piece of cold boiled rabbit meat.

Afterward I eat the oats. I sit for a few minutes before the open door of the stove watching the fire burn down, then I take my clothes off again, get back into bed, and go to sleep. When I wake up, the sky is just starting to get light. I get out of bed and dress myself quickly because it’s cold in the cabin. By the time I’m dressed there’s a little more light and I can see that it’s no longer snowing and the sky is clear. Because of the fresh snow it should be a good day for rabbit hunting. So I take my old, beat-up, single-shot 22 down from the hooks on the wall. I put my little wooden cartridge-box, containing 16 cartridges, in my pocket, with a couple of books of matches wrapped in plastic bags and a sheath knife on my belt in case I have to build a fire in an emergency. Then I put on my snowshoes and take off. First there’s a hard climb to get up on top of the ridge, and then a level walk of a mile or so to get to the open forest of lodgepole pines where I want to hunt. A little way into the pines I find the tracks of a snowshoe hare. I follow the trail around and around through its tangled meanderings for about an hour. Then suddenly I see the black eye and the black-tipped ears of an otherwise white snowshoe hare. It’s usually the eye and the black-tipped ears you notice first. The bunny is watching me from behind the tangled branches and green needles of a recently-fallen pine tree. The rabbis is about 40 feet away, but it’s alert and watching me, so I won’t try to get closer. However, I have to maneuver for an angle to shoot from, so that I can have a clear shot through the tangle of branches—even a slender twig can deflect a .22 bullet enough to cause a miss. To get that clear shot I have to lie down in the snow in an odd position and use my knee as a rest for the rifle barrel. I line up the sights on the rabbit’s head, at a point just behind the eye…hold steady…ping! The rabbit is clipped through the head.

Such a shot ordinarily kills the rabbit instantly, but the animal’s hind legs usually kick violently for a few seconds so that it bounces around in the snow. When the rabbit stops kicking I walk up to it and see that it’s quite dead. I say aloud “Thank you, Grandfather Rabbit”– Grandfather Rabbit is a kind of demigod I’ve invented who is the tutelary spirit of all the snowshoe rabbits. I stand for a few minutes looking around at the pure-white snow and the sunlight filtering through the pine trees. I take in the silence and the solitude. It’s good to be here. Occasionally I’ve found snowmobile tracks along the crest of the main ridge, but in these woods where I am now, once the big-game hunting season is over, in all my years in this country I’ve never seen a human footprint other than my own. I take one of the noosed cords out of my pocket. For convenience in carrying I put the noose around the rabbit’s neck and wrap the other end of the cord around my mittened hand. Then I go looking for the trail of another rabbit.

When I have three rabbits I head home. On arriving there I’ve been out some six or seven hours. My first task is to peel off the skins of the rabbits and remove their guts. Their livers, hearts, kidneys, brains, and some assorted scraps I put in a tin can. I hang the carcasses up under the shelter, then run down to my root cellar to fetch some potatoes and a couple of parsnips. When these have been washed and other chores performed—splitting some wood maybe, or collecting snow to melt for drinking water—I put the pot on the boil, and at the appropriate time add some dried wild greens, the parsnips, the potatoes, and the livers and other internal organs of the rabbits. By the time it’s all cooked, the sky is getting dark. I eat my stew by the light of my kerosene lamp. Or, if I want to economize, maybe I open the door of the stove and eat by the light of the fire. I finish off with a half a handful of raisins. I’m tired but at peace. I sit for a while in front of the open door of the stove gazing at the fire. I may read a little. More likely I’ll just lie on my bed for a time watching the firelight flicker on the walls. When I get sleepy I take off my clothes, get under the blankets, and go to sleep.

BVD: I envy you, too … While work, that does sound wonderful.

Freedom and autonomy. No time clock to punch, whether literal or figurative. But let me shift topic. You just mentioned sleep. Was your bed, or bunk, comfortable?

TJK: Well, it was comfortable enough for me.

[calliecwrites]

A Meeting of Minds

We’d arranged to meet at the old inn by the river. It was raining, and the top of the cliff was lost in the darkness. Water dripped from the trees. The windows were pools of light in the night.

It was centuries since I’d last been here, and aside from the clothes the people wore, the place had barely changed. I was wearing the same face I had back then. Call me sentimental, call me foolish – but there was no risk. No one alive today would recognise it – not unless they were one of us.

There were places where two women meeting on a night like this would raise eyebrows, where we’d have to come up with some cover story – maybe we were cousins, or sisters. This wasn’t one of those places. I paid the pennies for a dingy room in the upper storeys, right under the cliff, where the dripping was constant. But I waited in the common room, moving to and fro from the bar. It was packed, and you couldn’t help brushing against other people as you moved. That was why we chose places like this – because when we brushed against the one we were waiting for, another of our kind, we would know, instantly.

* * *

She was dressed comfortably, not huddled in a dark raincoat like I was. She’d been here all day, and had time to dry out. But her face was as plain as mine. No one would ever call these faces pretty, and that was by design. We didn’t want to draw attention.

I sat at the mirror. I was shorter than usual. I hadn’t used this form in a long time, and though I knew every detail in the way that we do, there was something to seeing ourselves the way the humans did. I took on the forms of a few of the people I’d seen downstairs, those with interesting faces or a gleam in their eye, before settling back into the form I’d chosen for the night.

“Reminiscing, are we?” she said, coming to stand behind me.

I’d heard all about how the face in the mirror meant so much to the humans – that this was their face, and no one else’s, and how the changes they saw in it over the years would traumatise them. None of that made sense to me. All these faces and forms were mine, and none of them were. That was what scared them about us, that we could look like them so easily, even though we weren’t like them at all. That was why, if they caught us, they would heat us over a fire until we couldn’t hold our forms, and when we turned fluid, they would boil us alive.

We aren’t monsters. We are the people of change, and we take on other forms as easily as breathing. For my form to be static, or to change outside my control, at the whims of time – like theirs do – would be unthinkable.

“I’ve been here before,” I said, “a long time ago.”

She put her hand on my shoulder.

We didn’t have our real conversation out loud. We couldn’t take the chance that they would overhear us. As soon as we touched, our voices were there in each other’s minds.

<My mind is full,> she mindspoke. <I’m ready.>

<So quickly?> I said. <Don’t you want to get to know each other first? When was the last time you had the chance to just talk?> I meant: to talk to one of us.

<I don’t like it here,> she said. <There are too many of them.>

<They’re not going to find us,> I said, with a tired laugh in my mindvoice. <We’re old.> Meaning: we’d had centuries to learn to imitate them down to the last detail – we weren’t youngsters who could barely hold a face together.

<And when the ritual’s over, you’re going to suggest we stay here?>

I sighed. <Fine. If this is just a chore to you, then let’s get it over with.>

She double-checked that the door was locked. Then we held hands, and slowly let our forms go altogether. We were old, and had accumulated many experiences. Sometimes the best way to avoid staleness is to mix things up – and as our minds merged, exactly that would happen. We would know everything the other had done, until we were, temporarily, one person. Later, we would separate again, refreshed and full of new experiences.

There was just one thing – the matter of the side effects. Two minds merging is no small thing, and there is always spillover into the minds nearby. If there wasn’t, it would be too intense. That’s why we always choose crowded places like this. But while this, to us, was restful, to the humans – well. We aren’t human, and neither are our thoughts. Nightmares, torment, madness – let’s just say, we would be the only ones sleeping or waking well at this inn tonight.

[thevelria]

Story of my wife (Goku x Reader)

Author's note: It's a short story, but I have to admit it's a bit disturbing. The story was based on a dream, my husband had a few years ago. I usually use his dreams as a base to a story :D

Trigger warning: if you are sensitive to the topic about the seizure and mental health, please skip this story.

Goku tried his best to get out of the bed as quietly as possible, making sure not to wake me up. He sneaked out of the room, wondering how he could have surprised me on this boring, gray Saturday. A half smile cracking on his face, he slowly dressed up and left the nearby bakery in the town. 

We moved there not too long ago, so Goku needed to focus on the streets pretty well, not missing the corner he had to turn left.

In the bakery there was already light, showing the customers they were open in this early hour of the morning. A kind looking old lady with a sleepy face greeted him warmly as soon as he stepped in the shop. 

-Good morning, sweetheart -the old lady smiled at Goku- What can I give you?

-Morning, ma’am -he nodded, slightly smiling back at her- I would like to have a french croissant and a salted pretzel, please.

After he left the bakery, on his way home he was hoping that I was still asleep, so the surprise he planned could have gone perfectly well. 

Slowly walking on the street, he felt an overwhelming calm spreading through his body. For a while there was nothing to worry about, no danger, no threat, nothing. Even the cold, sharp wind could not make him feel otherwise. The smell of the fresh baked pastries hit his nose, taking a huge deep breath he hurried his steps to finally get home. 

Goku opened the door carefully, almost in silence, only our puppy cracked one of his eyes open, but after he realized it was only Goku entering the room, he fell back asleep instantly. As he was preparing breakfast, putting the pastry on a tray beside some decaf coffee and he started to smile widely. I’ve been pregnant so he was really paying attention to every little detail. He even put a flower in a vase just to make the look simply wonderful. 

As he pushed the doorknob down the smile he was wearing disappeared immediately. The room was empty. 

-Where is she? -he furrowed his eyebrows, heading back to the kitchen. Goku was calling my name, wandering around the house, but he couldn’t find me anywhere.

-C’mon, Y/N…where are you? -he took a deep breath- It’s not funny! Please! -he kept talking louder and louder.

Goku was looking for me for a long time, he checked the outside in the yard, in every single small building we had, even going down in the basement. After feeling defeated he walked back to the house, in the bedroom, throwing himself down the bed, which had only one side of it wrinkled. 

-I just don’t understand where she could leave -he pinched the bridge of his nose, shaking his head in disbelief, when he spotted the wardrobe’s door being open just a little bit. -There you are! -he jumped off the bed, rushing to the wardrobe, opening it wide eagerly. 

But instead of me he found nothing, only emptiness. 

-What the fuck? -his eyes widened- Where are her clothes? -he clenched his jaw- Did she…did she leave me? But why? 

Running to the living room in full panic, Goku called his mother immediately.

-Good morning, honey -Gine answered the phone with a calming tone.

-Mom! -Goku screamed-Something bad happened! You need to come over. Please come over right now -he kept bubbling.

-What happened? 

-Y/N is gone! I couldn't find her anywhere and even her clothes disappeared!

-Oh, sweety…-Gine sighed deeply- I’ll be there in a few minutes, just try to stay calm okay? Can you do this for me? 

Goku hung up the phone, walking back and forth in the house, massaging his temple while starting to talk to the half asleeped dog.

-Did you see her leaving? Huh, buddy? Did you? Nah, I’m sure you didn’t, you were asleep… -rolling his eyes annoyed.

As the doorbell rang his body clenched, rushing to the door to open it.

-Mom! -he took a deep breath, about to start to spill his panic at his mother.

-Let’s go inside! -Gine held up his hand, hushing his son.

Gine’s hand was shaking from the nervousness, but he couldn’t have let his son notice it. The doctors warned her, everytime a seizure appeared she needed to act calm and smart, talking softly to be able to pull Goku back into reality. 

-Sit down, son…here next to me -she petted the sofa- There’s something we need to talk about. 

-Yes, mother! Y/N is gone, we need to call the police. What if something happened to her? What if she was kidnapped or -he froze from even the thought- what if something happened to the baby! -he was losing control.

-Enough! -Gine said with a strict tone.

-But don’t you understand she’s in danger? -he clenched his jaw- We need to help her! -he jumped off the sofa, walking back and forth in front of her mother. His eyes burning in fury and fear. Gine didn’t know what to do, never witnessed a seizure like this before, she finally stood up and slapped Goku on the face.

-I said sit down…now! -she commanded.

Caressing his sore face Goku took a deep breath, obeying his mother and sitting down on the sofa again. He was looking around, shaking his head in disbelief, feeling something was just not right.

-Mom -he sighed-What’s going on? 

-You’re having a seizure, sweety -said Gine with a sad tone- You’ve been imagining Y/N to be real again. But you know it’s not true, right? -she faked a smile- She’s not your wife and not carrying your child…she just doesn't exist.

-But mom -Goku looked confident- She’s in the pictures…Look! -he grabbed a framed photo from the table, showing it to his mother.

-Honey…there are only you and the dog in that picture -Gine shook her head slightly.

Goku checked the picture one more time and he saw clearly that I wasn’t in the picture. Hurriedly he looked at all the pictures one by one, but he couldn’t find me anywhere in them.

-I just don’t understand it -he collapsed to his knees.

***

Since the last seizure 6 months have passed and it seemed Goku was getting better day by day. He got some new medicines and treatments, which seemingly helped him to feel okay. Feeling happy and calm he tried to move on with his life. And even if not a single day passed without him thinking of me, he knew now that I wasn’t real. After his fight with Frieza his mind simply tricked him into a world, which seemed cruel enough to create a happy family for him. 

He was handling the daily grocery, picking tomatoes from the box into a plastic bag, when he looked up and everything fell from his hand. I was standing at the pastries, picking some stuff to my basket. Goku couldn't control himself and rushed towards me immediately.

-There you are Y/N -he grabbed my arm- I knew you would have come back to me. No one believed me, but I knew it! Deep down I just knew it! -he smirked uncontrollably.

-What are you doing? -the woman pushed his hand off of her- I’m not Y/N, leave me alone! -she commanded.

-But…but you just look like my wife -Goku shook his head in disbelief- Even your hair -he fought the urge to touch it- Please don’t leave me again! -he begged.

The woman spun on her heels and walked away from him in a hurry.

-Mom! -Goku called Gine with a shaking voice- I saw her today in the grocery store. I swear to my life it was her, but she said she’s not Y/N and ran away -Goku was snobbing hard -Please mom, you need to help me!

-Son, you know there’s only one thing left to do. You have to get in the nursing home, they will be able to help you. They are the only ones who can help you!

-Yeah -he sighed deeply- you are probably right- he said, turning his face to the door, seeing me walking in with our new born son in my hands.

[rebelwrites]

Winner Takes It All || Going Through Hell With A Hangover

Charles Leclerc x Valentina Hendrix (OC)

Winner Takes It All Masterlist

Summary: Valentina thought things were starting to look up but dealing with a mammoth hangover things start heating up in the paddock.

Warnings: Angry Valentina! That is all

As always reblogs and feedback is highly appreciated ❤️ if you want tagging in future parts let me know ❤️

Before I even opened my eyes I knew I was in for the hangover from hell, the room felt like it was spinning, my stomach was churning and it felt like I had a baby elephant stomping on my head.

Pulling the pillow from the other side of the bed over my face, I slowly opened my eyes, at least the pillow would shield me from the brightness of Hudson’s beach facing property in Miami. It was like he didn’t know what blinds or black out curtains were.

“How’s the head?” Hudson’s gravely voice appeared, it was slightly muffled due to the pillow over my face but I could tell he hadn’t long woken up himself. “You gonna be able to get through the media day?”

Groaning into the pillow, I squeezed my eyes closed throwing it across the room. Right now I hated myself, as if media days weren’t bad enough, I now had to deal with it whilst nursing one of the worse hangovers I had ever had.

“I’m going to take that as a no then.” he chuckled.

The weight on the bed changed signally he had sat on the edge of the bed.

“I’m going to go through hell with a hangover.” I mumbled, slowly opening my eyes, letting them adjust to the brightness of the room, at least Hudson’s large frame was kind of blocking the rising sun. “I must have been a real bitch in a past life, I’ve had nothing but shit luck over the last four years.”

“I wouldn’t call getting into the most sought after sports unlucky, sweetheart.” he hummed, brushing some of my wild hair behind my ear. “And plus you have me now, so I think your luck is changing for the better.”

I couldn’t help but smirk at his statement, maybe he was right. This was my time to shine and I wasn’t going to let a hangover stop me from dominating the weekend.

“I also think it is time you get that ass outta this bed and get ready for your day of hell as you like to put it.” he winked before pressing a kiss to the centre of my forehead. Without saying another word, he pushed himself off the bed.

I couldn’t help letting my eyes drop to his ass as he waltzed out of the bedroom wearing nothing but a tight black pair of Armani boxer shorts. Maybe he was right, maybe my luck was starting to turn, I mean I had managed to end up with a relationship with one of the hottest models in America. Running my hands over my face I finally mustered up the energy to clamber out of bed, grabbing the first item of clothing I could find, which just so happened to be one of Hudson’s t-shirts. One glance in the mirror and I was laughing at my reflection, the shirt was at least double maybe even triple my normal size and I could have gotten away with wearing this out as a dress.

Tangling my fingers in my messy hair I slowly made my way into the main part of the apartment finding Hudson leaning against the counter, coffee in one hand and phone in the other. The smirk on his face was wide and his eyes were sparkling from the sunlight bouncing around the kitchen.

“Seen something you like?” I hummed, in amusement as I made a b line straight for the coffee machine.

“Harley Davidson just dropped the pic of our shoot,” he grinned, looking up from his phone. “I think the picture they chose has to be my favourite of the whole shoot.” He paused for a moment, as a mischievous grin spread across his face. “Well, that's a lie, they actually sent us the ones that didn’t make it onto instagram.”

Instantly I knew which photo he was on about, it was the final one of the day where I was in nothing but a red bikini and he decided it would be the perfect time to shake multiple bottles of beer opening them all over me and the photographer managed to capture the moment I was covered in beer flipping off Hudson.

“Let me guess, the one where I’m flipping you off.” I giggled, glancing over my shoulder.

“You got it.” he winked, dropping his gaze back to his phone. “You fans are going crazy in the comments, look.” he smiled, passing me his phone.

I couldn’t help but laugh at some of the comments I was reading, he was right they were going crazy and it was safe to say with the photo I posted last night, no doubt the press images of us at the gala and now this the whole world would know that me and Hudson had something going on.

-

“Alors, à quel point as-tu la gueule de bois ce matin ? So, how hungover are you this morning?.” Pierre smirked, pulling his sunglasses down his nose to take in my appearance before passing me a much needed iced coffee.

“I swear I am hanging out my arse.” I moaned, taking a much needed sip of the caffeinated goodness. “But at least everything has just about stopped spinning. I just need today to go perfectly, do the press conferences and interviews, then I am heading back to Hudson’s and sleeping for the rest of the day.”

It was like the universe had something against me today, from across the paddock I could see Becky storming towards me. “Seigneur, donne-moi la force. Lord, give me strength.” I snapped, feeling my fingers ball into a fist.

“Just ignore her.” Hudson hummed, pressing a kiss against the side of my head.

“Easier said than done.” I scoffed, chewing on the straw in my coffee.

The thing that annoyed me the most was the amused look on her face as she looked me and Hudson up and down. Her expression changed to a look of disgust quickly before she spat on the floor.

“Well, well what do we have here?” she said, rolling her eyes before checking on her false nails. “It looks like you like sloppy seconds just like the skank I knew you were.”

Shaking Hudson’s arm off my shoulder, I took a step closer to the bitch standing in front of me, not caring who was watching as I squared up to her.

“The only skank standing here is you, bitch.” I growled, feeling my nails digging into the palm of my hands. This was the last thing I needed, especially today. “You think you are so big and tough but you only ever seem to make a scene when the camera’s are around. What are you hoping for? Your five minutes of fucking fame on DTS?”

“You think you fucking have the world at your feet don’t you?” she snarled, flicking her gaze between me and Hudson. “You think you are fucking untouchable don’t you?”

“Because I am fucking untouchable, you seem to forget you tried to get my arrest record used against me but that one back fired on you didn’t it?” I hummed, keeping my tone venomous. All I wanted to do was wipe that stupid little smirk off her face but this wasn’t the time or place to do so.

Out of the corner of my eye I saw Charles rushing over, the sight of it made me roll my eyes. Of course he would come and try and save the fucking day.

“So I suggest you and your fake ass tits turn around and fucking walk away before you see a side of me you really don’t want to see.”

The moment Charles appeared next to us, Becky screamed with a frustrated look on her face before storming off into the crowd that had formed around us.

“Nothing to see here, people.” I shouted, holding my hand up in the air before turning back to Pierre and Hudson. “I fucking swear some people need to take a long walk off a short pier.”

Before anyone could say anything, I spun around making my way to the Alpha Tauri motorhome, knowing it would be the only place I could get some peace and quiet.

Today was going to be hell on earth.

Not even five minutes later the sound of the motorhome door closing echoed through the silence, I couldn’t help but scoff the moment that familiar scent invaded my senses. Of course he would come here, he couldn’t leave things alone.

“Vaffanculo, Char. Fuck off Char.” I growled, lifting my arm over the top of the sofa, flipping him off. “I want to be alone before the press conference.”

I was met with silence before the sound of his heavy silence filled the sound of the room before I felt his fingers brush against my legs.

I hated the fact that his touch still set my skin on fire, sending sparks throughout my body. The feeling of my legs being lifted up was followed by the weight of Charles sitting next to me on the sofa, placing my legs over his.

“The fuck you doing?” I snarled, refusing to acknowledge that I missed this contact, this closeness.

“I want to ask you something,” he said, aimlessly running his fingers over my skin. I tried my hardest to ignore the feeling, to block everything out but his touch still increased my heart rate, my body was betraying me right now. “I just want to know if you are happy, if he makes you happy?”

It was like someone had just dunked me into an ice bath the moment the words left his lips. Instantly I jolted away from him, throwing myself off the sofa, the feeling of being hungover long forgotten with the anger that was radiating through every bone of my body.

“What fucking right do you have coming in here sitting on the sofa, pulling my legs onto your and asking questions like that.” I growled, tangling my fingers into the roots of my hair. “Oh that’s right Charles, you have no fucking right. You lose those privileges the moment you picked her over me.”

He didn’t say a word as I paced around the motorhome, trying to process everything that had happened today. The fact he sat there in silence angered me even more.

“What’s the matter, cat got your tongue?” I snarled, kicking the chair across the room, this finally got his attention.

“Je tiens toujours à toi. I still care about you.” he said, making eye contact with me. “I will always fucking care about you, so sorry for checking in with you, sorry for trying to show you that I still care about you and wanting to know if you are happy.”

Tears burned my eyes, my vision was starting to get cloudy. I had no idea why I was at the point of breaking down, whether it was anger or the fact that Charles still cared about me. All I knew was I needed him out of my sanctuary, I couldn’t think straight with him around and after the morning I had I really needed some time alone.

“If answering your question will cause you to leave, then yes.” I growled, trying to blink the tears away, I refused to cry in front of him. “Yes, Hudson does make me fucking happy.” I shouted, slamming my palms against the kitchen counter. “I haven’t been this happy in fucking years, now leave I need to get ready for the press conference.”

I didn’t stick around to see what he said next or to even watch him leave, instead I tried to put enough distance between us as possible.

@chibsytelford @dragon-of-winterfell @ohthemisssery @a-distantdreamer @sgkophie @stillbreathin @angywritesstuff @miamedyu @enchantedbytomandhenry @scribbuluswrites @dangerouspursepeachbear @micks-afterglow @livo67 @buendiabebeta @pleasedontfollowinlost @ferrarifwendvale @hungryhungarian @theplobnrgone @charlesleclercje @sunf1owerrq @queenslife @panicforspec @inesramoss30 @justme2042 @liv67 @sessgjarg @derpinathebrave @idkiwantchocolatee @littleobsessionsandlifeslessons @alynoa @clcspeonies @pleasantducktimetravel @organasith @inchidentwithmax @raaaaabzzz @teamspideyman @marvelousmendess @mehrmonga @sbgal

[darsynia]

I Know No Other Way Than This | Ch 4

(Bruce Banner/OFC, Tony Stark & Bruce Banner Friendship, post-Avengers 1 Soulmate AU multichapter)

image found on @multifandomfix

MCU Masterlist | Tony Stark Masterlist | Prev | Next

Summary: Bruce tried to forget he had soulmate words entirely, but on the day of the Chitauri attack, he returned from his stint as the Hulk to find that his black words had turned silver. His soulmate must have watched him shift from the Other Guy into himself and said them while he was unconscious…

Length: 1,953

Tags: @starryeyes2000 @arrthurpendragon @ronearoundblindly @themaradaniels

Excerpt:

“It would be better if I had never met her at all.” Saying that didn’t have the ring of truth it had days ago.

“You’re going to run out of those by-rote responses and have to think up something original eventually, you know.”

“That will take a while. I’ve been writing them for years, Tony.”

Tony stood up and made a face. “I was trying to work the name ‘Bruce’ into ‘Benedictine Monk’ somewhere but it is just not working.”

Bruce smiled. “You went with the wrong name. ‘Bannerdictine Monk’ would have worked just fine.”

“Listen to you! I’ll have to relinquish my crown.” 

Chapter Four: Breaking the Fourth Wall

Bruce didn’t wait until twenty-four hours had passed to tell Tony that he’d broken down and looked at the folder of videos of Cicely.

“Okay, you’re right. Someone’s following her. What do we do about it?” he asked the second he walked into the lab (late, with coffee for once instead of tea, and one for Tony, too, in case Stark decided to crow about that instead of the fact that his stupid plan might be working).

“So, interesting thing to note before you go all Blitz Hansen, To Catch a Predator on this guy, she seems to have caught on,” Tony said, snagging a rolling chair with his foot and collapsing onto it in a move that was equal parts smooth and frightening. “This was from yesterday morning.”

Bruce didn’t really like that the folder Tony opened was on his desktop, but then he looked more closely at Tony’s desktop. The cluster of folders kept rearranging themselves about every ten seconds or so. Tony looked over his shoulder at Bruce and then maximized the folder as if self-conscious.

“Yes, okay, I’m trying a new thing where JARVIS moves the files I’m most likely to mess with at any given point into a more prominent view. Honestly, it’s a compromise, because I used to just tell him what to open but Pepper thinks I’m relying a little too much on the automation.”

“That’s… more automation, though?”

“Cool the Butlerian Jihad.” Tony double clicked on the video he was looking for, and Bruce felt instantly guilty for recognizing Cicely’s apartment complex. “Here,” Tony said, pointing. Bruce watched as a few people left the building, but he didn’t see Cicely’s recognizable scrubs or black hair. “Missed her,” Tony said. “So did I, the first time.” He rewound the footage a bit and hit play again. “Right there.”

The woman Tony was pointing at had blonde hair, not black. She was also wearing jogging clothes, and had earbuds in, with a backpack. However, it was definitely Cicely, Bruce realized, when Tony rewound it a third time and hit pause.

“She dyed her hair and changed her typical outfit.” He was stating the obvious, but it was important.

“Your girl is smart,” Tony said, spinning his chair around to face him. 

Bruce didn’t object verbally, but he frowned. She wasn’t his, that was the whole point! As he thought the words, some part of him wanted to change the word ‘point’ to ‘problem,’ which was new and concerning. He shoved the thought away, because Tony was still speaking.

“--to find out whether the guy has a secondary spy/accomplice at the hospital. Presumably when he doesn’t see her, Celery-boy here will have to assume she missed work. If he calls to find out she’s at work, she might hear about it and that’s confirmation right there. If he spots her right away tomorrow, that’s another kind of confirmation.” His grin at Bruce was more than a little teasing. “She’s your soulmate and even you had trouble recognizing her.”

“It would be better if I had never met her at all.” Saying that didn’t have the ring of truth it had days ago.

“You’re going to run out of those by-rote responses and have to think up something original eventually, you know.”

“That will take a while. I’ve been writing them for years, Tony.”

Tony stood up and made a face. “I was trying to work the name ‘Bruce’ into ‘Benedictine Monk’ somewhere but it is just not working.”

Bruce smiled. “You went with the wrong name. ‘Bannerdictine Monk’ would have worked just fine.”

“Listen to you! I’ll have to relinquish my crown.” 

As with everything, Tony put all of himself into his look of admiration, and Bruce couldn’t help but feel proud, even if it was a bit of wordplay. He liked that about this man. Sure, he was narcissistic and selfish, but he was thorough, and when he liked you, he was thorough in his friendship, at least he had been so far. Even if so far, 40% of it was trying to get Bruce to accept a concept he’d painfully turned his back on after the accident. Today, that kind of thoroughness might be helpful to keep Cicely safe.

“So that video was yesterday, you said? What about today?” he reminded Tony.

“I don’t typically get them in until the evening. JARVIS, do you have the Hathaway building’s surveillance footage gathered yet?”

“Creating a new file in the Soulvengers folder for you, Sir.”

Tony cleared his throat and sat back down at the desk, as if he were avoiding Bruce’s gaze.

“Soulvengers?” Bruce asked.

“You aren’t the only lost soul in need of reconciliation,” Tony said loftily.

Just as Tony had predicted, the tall, skinny man with the thin mustache spotted Cicely right away. In the video, Bruce could see her noticing the man by holding her phone up as she approached the cross street. He could tell that she recognized the stalker, because instead of crossing the street, Cicely turned on her heel, pushed brusquely past him, and called for a taxi.

The stalker lurked against the facade of the building and watched until it drove away.

Bruce felt the Other Guy lift his head and take notice. “What time does she get off of work?”

“Woah, toss some sand on those coals, doc. Flattening the guy isn’t going to help things.”

“JARVIS?” Bruce tried instead.

“Cicely Besnard’s shift at Children’s ends this evening at 8 PM. She’s usually seen leaving the building between twenty-five and forty minutes later.”

“What are you going to do, tell the guy you were stalking her first?” Tony asked. It was a reasonable question, but Bruce’s blood ran hot in his veins.

“Not at all,” Bruce said, loosening the button at his throat. “I doubt I’ll have to do much more than encourage him to find a new target, one with fewer friends in high places.” He rolled his shoulders, loosening his body. If things went the way he planned them to, he’d be more calm, more persuasive, by that evening. “JARVIS, if you’ve got some sort of process set up to track her, can you track him? Can we find out if he does find a new target, and gather evidence to present to that new target in as minimal and helpful way as possible?”

“Yes, Dr. Banner. Might I suggest a more professional-sounding name for that folder? Though, dare I say it, ‘soulvenger’ would likely be more applicable to that venture, in the end.”

“And here I thought you’d chucked your morals,” Tony laughed, a bit nervously.

“Hmm? Oh, the comment about finding a new target. No, I just don’t want Cicely to have to deal with the court nonsense. If this guy makes a habit of stalking, he’ll dig himself into a new case soon enough,” Bruce said. 

Bruce wore jeans, a baseball cap, and a nondescript jacket to stand outside the hospital waiting for Cicely to emerge. Of course, he wasn’t really waiting for her, he was waiting for the stalker, if he was around. He’d indeed calmed a little, but not much. There was a non-zero chance that he might lose control tonight. A part of him was screaming that he had no right to reject this woman but also act like a bulldog snapping at anyone else who showed interest, but Bruce felt pretty confident that the other man was not a potential love interest. The barge pole of a man had bad intentions, and Bruce would set him straight.

Hopefully without her noticing that it was happening at all.

That was why he’d come to her workplace, strangely enough. Cicely Besnard knew that someone was following her in the mornings. She’d changed her appearance to throw the guy, and had reacted in an appropriately freaked-out manner when she’d seen it hadn’t worked for very long. She’d be ready to see the guy tomorrow, or whenever her next work day was. Would she be as on edge leaving work? Bruce’s gut instinct said no. That made it the best place for him to confront the guy.

He used his years of experience having seen people standing outside hospitals to blend in. There was always one guy who looked deeply concerned, checked his phone all the time, and sometimes stood and just watched the entrance, as if hoping like hell his ex would come walking out and he could tell her he was sorry. With his attire so different from his normal clothing, Bruce didn’t think he was recognizable as Bruce Banner at all, particularly not to Cicely, if she saw him.

Then, he caught sight of the stalker guy. He was in a suit, one that had clearly been bought off-rack at a resale store by the fit. Bruce made his way over to him over the course of five minutes, focused on anything but the man himself. Cicely herself would probably not appear for another ten minutes.

“You here waiting for your girl too?” Bruce asked sheepishly, not looking at the guy.

“Fuck off.”

“What a coincidence, because that’s my message for you. From myself and a few friends.”

The Other Guy was lurking, waiting, watching. Bruce could feel his presence in the tightness of his skin, the heaviness in his chest, the heat in his veins. He was holding steady without concern of transforming, at least for now, but the odd thing about it was that Bruce could feel the interest, the investment that the Hulk had in what he was doing. It mirrored his own vested interest, which he hadn’t clearly understood was so deep until that very moment. 

“Friends, sure. Thanks for your time, weirdo.”

Bruce shot a glance over to see the guy tapping out a cigarette into his hand, unconcerned and unmoving. ���Find a new obsession. This young lady has friends in high places.”

“I can’t believe you assholes are checking up on me after not paying me for yesterday,” the guy said in a hoarse, furious whisper. “If you want multiple eyes on this bitch you’re going to have to pay for the ones you have, or I’m going to bounce.”

Bruce sucked in a deep, desperate breath and gritted out, “I’ll pass it along,” before turning and running in the direction of Central Park. His only thought was to get as far away from his soulmate before leaning into his absolute rage.

This went beyond stalking. This went beyond a single man’s obsession-- whether that man was himself, or the thin criminal haunting Cicely Besnard on behalf of some other, more powerful figures.

Bruce hoped to hell it wasn’t about him. He’d never forgive himself.

At the last minute, when he was leaning with both hands on a mailbox and watching them turn green, knowing that his neck has already done so despite desperately fighting against it, Bruce saw a blur of red and gold land beside him.

“Hold on for three more minutes and I’ll get you to the room,” Tony said, grabbing him with arms strong enough to lift twice his weight, thanks to his Iron Man suit. “If you Hulk out in midair, though, we’re going to have to try it the fun way.”

“Get going,” Bruce growled at him.

Tony took off, streaking toward the tower. “You might not be the only one with a vitamin deficiency. I should never have let you do this.”

Bruce couldn’t tell him it was worth it thanks to what he’d learned, but Tony would find out soon enough. Just that thought was enough to break his fragile grasp on sanity. After that, all he saw was green.

Next chapter, Bruce wakes up in containment, and has to figure out whether he is the most dangerous person in Cicely's life at the moment.

[perfectlullabies]

since this dreadful year is finally coming to an end, here’s my DIARY ENTRY because i feel like writing it all down (well, just a short summary of some of the things that have happened)

let’s start with the way i finished 2021. i had a severe panic attack in a supermarket when i was on my way to weronika’s to spend new year’s eve together and had trouble calming down for over two hours. thankfully i took some meds, changed my clothes, called my mom and cooled off. not exactly a great sign for the upcoming year, was it?

first four months were pretty much uneventful, i was doing fairly well at uni even though i still had online classes. i was hoping to get a job (did not get it eventually). at the end of january i started taking meds which definitely helped a lot with my ocd i’d had since childhood and i also applied for therapy 

then may 16th happened - your usual monday. the day before i was watching eurovision with weronika, having a great time drinking beer etc. morning after when i was drinking my coffee i got a phone call from my distressed mom. i immediately knew something terrible must have happened, i could hear it in her voice and the way i heard my aunt in the car with her. they never got together unless something was Happening. my mom called me straight from the place the accident took place. she was talking to me as she looked at the car wreck and her deceased mother on the ground, with the police still guarding the place. my 73 year old grandmother, who had just started her retirement after 50 years of working as a pediatrician, had been killed instantly in a violent car crash - a truck had driven right into her side of the car because the man had lost consciousness while driving due to brain tumor. my grandparents were on the way to the oncology centre bc my grandfather had been terminally ill. so that day my grandma decided to drive him to the centre, usually she wouldn’t do that

my grandfather survived the accident itself but passed away two weeks later on may 29th due to severe injuries and ongoing illness. the accident sped up the process. i said goodbye to him and promised him to visit him again - i didn’t have that opportunity

i hadn’t talked to my grandmother since 2017. we had a very complicated relationship, you could say we were estranged. we used to be very close prior to that. not gonna get into details because i find it irrelevant right now. however i wish i had a chance to apolgize to her and for her to have the chance to apologize to me and my parents. we never got the opportunity to reconcile. i hate to think about it

after the accident came funerals, just two weeks apart

my whole family’s crumbled, there’s an ongoing WAR that my abusive uncle and godmother initiated. no details here either, just know that when i use the word abuse i really mean it all - physical, psychological, financial. all kinds

from the very start it was me and my mom who took care of most things. we cleaned the flat back in june, we then cleaned the flat again back in august and today we emptied the basement and the rest of the furniture and stuff from the flat that has been sold. none of my cousins helped - instead they sent me disgraceful messages on facebook

i’ve just come back from their flat, having thrown out most of their stuff that was left there. i’m tired, pissed off and so melancholic

this year has shown me that people don’t have much empathy, pity and kindness in them. nobody helped us, nobody cared. none of my so called friends or relatives cared - they still don’t. people think that when such a tragedy happens, it’s over within a month or so. it’s been 7 months now and the things we’re dealing with have NOT been as intense ever before. everything takes months or even years here. it’s not easy. no understanding for it either 

we had some terribly macabre and grotesque ‘’adventures’’ in the meantime such as having to deal with the funeral home who accidentally sold our 2nd burial place to some other family (they ended up digging up some deceased man. unimaginable)

around september i had to resign from therapy i had been attending from late april to late september because my therapist had been the most unhelpful, ABUSIVE so called mental health professional i’ve ever encountered. she further made me believe i am somehow responsible for the things that happened, also relating to my family past as some kind of ‘’curse’’ - as you know, my grandmother’s brother and his wife were killed in a similar car crash back in 1978. so she told me we were cursed. anyway it’s over and done with, i’m no longer seeing her and i won’t ever attend therapy again. gross 

in 2022 i had been ill at least 5 or 6 times, each time ending up on heavy medication. so did my parents. my dad had to resign from his job because of health issues and other things. i am very worried abt my parents on daily basis

i haven’t slept well since may. i have nightmares, truly awful ones. almost always involving our trauma. i had shown many ptsd symptoms and i dearly hope it won’t develop further. but who knows at this point

when it comes to uni and everyday problems - my thesis supervisor proved to be especially unhelpful. i haven’t touched my thesis since may and i don’t know when i’m gonna continue. uni doesn’t help with anything, i’m all alone with everything there, more so than ever before 

i have no support from anyone - it’s just me and my parents out there. doing everything, dealing with everything. on top of it all we received no money from the insurance companies - NONE AT ALL. two people have been killed. we get nothing from it

the man who killed them hasn’t contacted us, not even a message with an apology. nothing

and now the global things - ongoing pandemic and the terrifying war in ukraine which is so close to us. my heart goes out to all ukrainians, i love them all dearly, they’re like beloved family to polish people ALWAYS. i’ve got nothing but unconditional love and support for them

2022 made me believe that there is not much kindness in this world. not much pity and understanding. no empathy. no one cares and life goes on and this is the lesson i’ve learnt this year. you die and nothing happens - that’s what the terrifying truth looks like 

[alsjeblieft-zeg]

357 of 2023

Part one.

I have a iPhone 4 instead of having a phone & an iPod. My favorite skin/hair care line is Kiehl’s. I still go on a website that I frequented as a child. If I’m dying my hair, I would only use the pump/foam kind. One of my favorite things to do daily is grab the mail, but I’m usually disappointed to find nothing in there. I collect either products with my favorite animal on it or favorite cartoon character on it. I love shopping a little too much for my own good. The top languages I would learn would be American Sign Language, French, German, & Russian. I can’t walk in heels to save my life, but I’m trying. I sign up for basically any loyalty program I can. If I had the money, I’d buy lots of items on Etsy. I don’t ever want to get married I say I always need to clean but wait until the last second to actually clean. I work in a clothing store. I prefer Reddit over 9gag or any website that is similar. I really hate bumper stickers & rarely find one that I think is cute or is something clever. Headphones or earphones, I don’t really care which one I’m using just as long as it does the job. I use a comb rather than a brush. For the most part, I love my outside appearance but I would change a few things about my personality if I could instantly. When I say I am laughing on the internet, I rarely actually laugh out loud. It doesn’t mean I’m not actually laughing on the inside though. I could spend ages in store such as IKEA or big department stores. One of my favorite things to eat during holidays would be dinner rolls. I hope one day, I’m completely happy with my life & myself. My bedroom walls are a bright colour. My house really needs a makeover. Having my own talk show would be super fun. My dream job is to be an author. I wear my hair up most of the time. Someone has confessed to liking me recently. I feel like a ghost most of the time. Grapefruit is the best smelling body wash. Cucumber is the best smelling body wash. I have seen a real live tiger before. I’ve ripped a purse before from having so much stuff in it. I’ve hurt someone with a knife before. Salad is delicious. My fingers are really short. I read and love fanfics. My family has french ancestors. Boys always smell good. I’ve been told I could be a model before. I say whatever’s on my mind. I say ��horrifying’ instead of plain old ‘scary’. I’ve proposed to someone before. I’d be miserable if I couldn’t go on the computer for a month. I’ve been told I’m a waste of air before. I tell my pets I love them. I’m allergic to so many things. I’d rather eat nothing but hot dogs than eat nothing but oranges. I am happy with who I am. I live with an aunt or uncle. Bzoink = best site ever. I know someone who is due to have a baby any day now. I haven’t had fast food in years. I never ask permission for anything: I just go ahead and do it. Most of my wardrobe is black. I make the BEST spaghetti. I went to church this week. I have no idea where my dad is right now. I don’t know a lot of people in my facebook friends. There’s no way I’d ever move from the city I live in right now. Reese’s Pieces are the best snack for all-nighters. I own a pair of cowboy boots. I just woke up. If someone looked in my closet right now they’d think I’m a neat freak. Blueberry pancakes are soo much better then chocolate chip ones. I’ve changed diapers so many times before I don’t even mind it anymore. There’s a hammock in my back yard. I prefer to hear the truth, no matter how mean it is. I wish I could go out with Jude Law.

[frogtanii]

warm.

it’s too warm, was your first waking thought as you sluggishly waded through the mound of blankets that encompassed you to get a breath of fresh air (you assumed bokuto and kuroo were the culprits for your warm and fuzzy hellhole). your eyes first fell on the television playing the credits to the second or third pirates of the caribbean movie on mute, the remote haphazardly thrown somewhere to your left as though the person who did so left in a hurry.

speaking of people, there was no one left in the room as you slowly joined the land of the living. a part of you suspected everyone had gone to bed but atsumu or akaashi would’ve woken you up if that had been the case.

belatedly, you recognized voices coming from the front door and your still sleep-addled brain lit up. oh! you thought. food must be here! untangling yourself from the blankets proved to be an exhausting feat because by the time you were done, your body was covered in a sheen of sweat underneath oikawa’s sweats and sakusa’s hoodie.

ugh, gross.

you began to make your way towards the door, the blood rushing through your head preventing you from hearing the details of conversation but knowing atsumu, he was just haggling for a lower price even though you told him repeatedly, that isn’t how pizza places work tsum.

as you drew nearer to the commotion, you started to pick up on the heavy tension in the air, leaving you extremely uncomfortable. you had no idea what the cause of it was but you did know it was making most of the boys upset, who, by the way, hadn’t noticed you creeping around just yet.

a feminine voice rang out from outside the doorway and though you were still attempting to gain your hearing, the sound sent chills down your spine. it sounded saccharine, sweet, familiar, and oh so evil.

even with a head full of cotton, you figured now wouldn’t be the best time to reveal yourself, what with the clear discomfort permeating the atmosphere, but your big fat mouth apparently had other plans.

“‘tsum, just let the poor pizza lady go,” you muttered, the beginnings of a headache making itself known at the back of your skull. you were a little too caught up with the dwarf banging at your head with a sledgehammer to notice the shock that everyone in the room turned to look at you with.

a gentle hand grasped at your forearm, whispering something into your ear before attempting to pull you back to the living room, but that same familiar voice from the door kept you planted where you stood.

“oh, the princess finally makes herself known,” meiko sneered, her face finally coming into focus, striking you with pang of fear straight through your heart. “funny, i thought i left you speechless the last time we... ‘talked’.”

“ya shut yer fuckin mouth,” atsumu lunged at her but was stopped by sakusa’s arm around his waist, successfully holding him in place. meiko just giggled, taking a step into the house, her heels clicking as she glided across the hardwood floors.

in the back of your head, you noted that meiko looked unusually beautiful, her makeup flawlessly done and her outfit complementing it perfectly, almost reminiscent of how she used to be before... well, just “before”.

you watched the boys unconsciously angle themselves as a protective wall around you, the person holding your arm (who you now realized was koushi) pulling you in tighter until your back was resting against his chest.

a part of you couldn’t help but feel a little suffocated but the other, more self preserving, bit felt irrationally safe and protected around these boys. it was nice... or it would’ve been if meiko wasn’t taking herself on a tour around the house as though she hadn’t been living there for almost the past year.

“you all can tone down on the guard dog act. i’m not here to fight,” she said as she pretended to wipe dust off the island. “you’re not?” bokuto’s skeptical voice rose up from behind you, one of his hands finding yours underneath the massive sleeves of your (sakusa’s) hoodie.

meiko shook her head with an empty smile, her perfectly painted red lips stretching unnaturally wide. “no, of course not! i’ve just come here to collect.”

the boys collectively tensed around you, akaashi whispering for kenma to go find yachi and quickly. as he slipped away, you made eye contact with sakusa who gave you an imperceptible nod that you assumed meant one thing — keep her talking.

“collect what?” you asked, your voice coming out weaker than you wanted, but you hoped she didn’t notice. she cocked her head as her eyes snapped to you as if she’d forgotten you were there, but judging by her growing smirk, you knew that wasn’t the case.

“my boys of course!” meiko clapped gleefully, clicking her way over toward kuroo to run her hand over his bicep, laughing when he jolted away from her touch. “they’ve always been mine, you know that don’t you?”

it felt like a cold bucket of water had been dropped over your head. you felt frozen again, the same feeling of dread creeping up your spine as it did when meiko attacked you. in turn, you barely noticed kenma’s return who whispered something to sakusa — an action that didn’t go unnoticed by meiko.

“what’re my boys talking about? are you plotting against me?” she pouted, scooting closer to the pair. kenma visibly paled and moved to hide himself behind sakusa’s broad shoulders. “we aren’t doing anything, meiko.”

wrong answer.

“oh, we both know that isn’t the case kiyoomi. i’m not a fucking idiot.” meiko’s voice filled with venom before moving even closer still. you felt your heart beating rapidly in your chest, your hand gripping bokuto’s even tighter.

what if she brought some kind of weapon to the house? what if she hurt you? what if she hurt them?

before you could think, you were standing in front of the group, the boys calling out your name as meiko’s face lit up. “so the precious little princess wants to take a stand! let me have it then, huh? let me see what all the craze is about!”

despite the fear thudding in your chest, you stood tall, glaring at her with your head held high. “the boys are not yours, meiko,” you declared, her mouth instantly opening in protest but you refused to let her speak.

“they aren’t possessions or objects you can own and treat like shit. they are people, real living, breathing people and they aren’t mine either. they have full reign to do what they want, when they want, to make their own choices and decisions. and you know what? they didn’t choose you or me. they chose themselves and their happiness over any bullshit you or i could try and sell them. so please, for the love of god, get your shit together, put it in a box and take it to fucking therapy.”

by the end of your impromptu speech, your chest was heaving but you felt good. really good. adrenaline was rushing through your veins and you felt powerful. out the corner of your eye, you noticed osamu and daichi standing at the bottom of the stairs with something akin to awe on their faces.

yeah bitches. take it all in.

unfortunately, while you were basking in the feeling of badassery, you completely missed meiko’s eyes lighting up with pure, unadulterated,

rage.

you faintly heard someone call your name before you were taken to the ground by meiko leaping at you like an animal. the two of you scrambled about on the hardwood, her hands yanking at your clothes and leaving scratches on your skin but you were sure as hell giving her a run for her money.

you finally managed to get on top of her, pinning her arms to the ground but that wasn’t before you gained a hard elbow to the side and a bruise to your face. meiko thrashed and shook in your hold but you were not wavering, trying to keep her entirely still for...

well, for what exactly?

almost as though they were on cue, you heard the sound of police sirens wailing in the distance, growing louder as they drew closer to the house. underneath you, meiko’s eyes widened before she began fighting even harder than she’d done before, her erratic movements making it much more difficult to keep your hold on her.

luckily, you had extremely muscular men at your disposal, one of which (osamu — even though he was a dick, he was still incredibly muscular dick) held down meiko’s arms as the lapd stormed the building.

the police officers easily retracted meiko from your arms and cuffed her, taking her to the back of the cop car, despite her loud and insistent threats on you and everyone you love.

very disney villain-esque.

a kind looking officer helped you to your feet and walked you out to the porch where he began to ask you and the boys a few questions. you answered them honestly and you were genuinely proud of how well you were handling the whole situation when—

“bubs, you’re shaking.” sure enough, when you looked down at your hands, you were twitching uncontrollably, the reality of the events that just occurred finally sinking in.

you were just attacked. again.

you and your friends were threatened.

meiko was sitting in the back of a fucking cop car.

“what the fuck,” you whispered, eyes staring unblinking at your palms. the same officer mentioned something about shock, prompting all the boys to gather around you; atsumu pulled you in between him and sakusa, wrapping his arm around your shoulders, kenma and bokuto took hold of your quivering hands, sugawara and oikawa sat off to the side watching you with blatant concern, and kuroo and akaashi spoke to the officer in hushed tones.

the man nodded and shook their hands before shooting you a pitying smile and heading back to the car where meiko was waiting.

“it’s over angel, ‘s over,” atsumu muttered into your hair, pressing kisses to your forehead in between each phrase. you leaned into his touch but you refused to take your eyes off meiko who was watching the whole scene from the backseat, her eyes wide with anger, hurt, and confusion.

you didn’t bother dwelling on it, instead focusing on evening out your breathing and looking at the car drive over the horizon. you heard yachi’s soft voice calling everyone inside, atsumu lifting you up to your feet and walking with you, never once taking his hands off of you.

still, his words echoed in your head, even as yachi spoke of the end of the hyper house, even as the boys brought you to your room, and even as they all automatically cuddled around you in an attempt to get you to sleep.

it’s over. it’s all finally over.

you couldn’t keep the grin off your face if you tried.

℗ poker face

it’s over

series masterlist

(●’◡’●)ﾉ

an - OK THE TITLE IS MISLEADING THE STORY IS NOT OVER YET SKENSM (there are 2 more official story chapters before all the endings :3) also m not the biggest fan of this chapter?? so i’d love to hear what y’all think <33 don’t forget to feed me!!

taglist - if your name is in bold, i cannot tag you

@boosyboo9206 • @geektastic84 • @elianetsantana • @trashy-simp • @infinitebells • @6mattsun9 • @suhkusa • @katsulovee • @kotarosbabygirl • @fucktheworlddude • @insomniacwreck • @calumsfringe • @saltylettuce • @chai-blu • @al3x1ss • @hawksyoongi • @jooleuuh • @loubells • @kissungjae • @liberhoe • @tetsurocore • @animeoverdosee • @duhsies • @saiKishaircLip • @afire24 • @premiyagi • @kit-kat428 • @doctorspencereid • @daphnxy • @kyomihann • @maer-333 • @sinoflust19 • @peteunderoos • @peachiikichu • @iidanotlida • @yongboxerrr • @kac-chowsballs • @tanakaslastbraincell • @memorableminds • @risjime • @starry-magicshop • @sugavwara • @smuttyanimeslut • @kiwibirbs-library • @haijkk • @airybnb • @crybabygumi • @iwaisa • @decaffinatedtealover • @notameera • @kawaii-angelanne • @rintarovibes • @urlocalsimp • @keiarma • @shrimpypenis

the rest of the tags will be in the replies!!

[linghxr]

Characters With Other Meanings That Surprised Me

Over my years of studying Chinese, I’ve encountered many familiar characters in unfamiliar situations. Basically, when I originally learned a character, I only learned one or some of its possible meanings. Then later down the line, I encountered the same character but with a meaning that I hadn’t learned. Confusion ensued. Then I pulled up Pleco or MDBG, and all became clear!

Let’s go down memory lane and look at some of the characters that have perplexed me over the years.

同款 tóngkuǎn - similar (model) / merchandise similar to that used by a celebrity etc

Recently I’ve seen a lot of ads with the word 同款. I was quite confused because I thought 款 had to do with money, like in 贷款 or 捐款. After looking up 款, everything made sense—the ads I saw were advertising a service where you can buy clothing that your favorite celebs wear!

款 kuǎn - section / paragraph / funds / classifier for versions or models (of a product)

疼惜 téngxī - to cherish / to dote on 疼爱 téngài - to love dearly

Before encountering these words, I was only familiar with 疼 from words like 头疼 and 疼痛, which have to do with pain. So you can imagine my confusion when I saw “cherish” as the definition for 疼惜! I find it interesting how this character has both a very positive and a very negative meaning.

疼 téng - (it) hurts / sore / to love dearly

告别 gàobié - to leave / to bid farewell to / to say good-bye to 离别 líbié - to leave (on a long journey) / to part from sb

I knew a lot of words with 别, but none with the meaning of leave/depart...even though that is the first definition listed in MDBG! Even to this day, when I see the expression 别来无恙, it takes me a sec to remember what 别 means in there.

别 bié - to leave / to depart / to separate / to distinguish / to classify / other / another / don't ...! / to pin / to stick (sth) in / (noun suffix) category

发毛 fāmáo - to be scared / to be panicked

I heard this use of 毛 while watching Chinese-language TV. I instantly looked up 毛 in Pleco because the meanings of 毛 I knew made no sense in the contexts of the scene. I’ve been able to remember this new (to me) meaning of 毛 thanks to the chengyu 毛骨悚然.

毛 máo - hair / feather / down / wool / mildew / mold / coarse or semifinished / young / raw / careless / unthinking / nervous / scared / (of currency) to devalue or depreciate / classifier for Chinese fractional monetary unit

说道 shuōdào - to state / to say (the quoted words) 问道 wèndào - to ask the way / to ask

I was so bewildered when I first saw 道 used like this—even though I knew many, many words with 道 that were diverse in meaning. Now I see this kind of 道 a lot when I’m reading, so I’m confident that you will encounter it sooner or later.

道 dào - road / path / principle / truth / morality / reason / skill / method / Dao (of Daoism) / to say / to speak / to talk / classifier for long thin things (rivers, cracks etc), barriers (walls, doors etc), questions (in an exam etc), commands, courses in a meal, steps in a process / (old) circuit (administrative division)

花光 huāguāng - to spend all one's money 不光 bùguāng - not the only one / not only 

Here there are two new meanings of 光 that I remember learning. For the “use up” meaning, 花光, 用光, and 吃光 seem to be the most common uses. As for the “only" meaning, I hear 不光 all the time now. It’s definitely super useful to know.

光 guāng - light / ray / bright / only / merely / to use up

理睬 lǐcǎi - to heed / to pay attention to 不理 bùlǐ - to refuse to acknowledge / to pay no attention to / to take no notice of / to ignore

理 is another character that I encounter constantly in words like 理解, 理由, and 处理. I think I first learned the “to pay attention to” meaning from the chengyu 不理不睬. Now I encounter and use 不理 really frequently!

理 lǐ - texture / grain (of wood) / inner essence / intrinsic order / reason / logic / truth / science / natural science (esp. physics) / to manage / to pay attention to / to run (affairs) / to handle / to put in order / to tidy up

顽皮 wánpí - naughty 调皮 tiáopí - naughty / mischievous / unruly

Here is another example of “what? How did this character acquire both these definitions?” At least I have not had much trouble with remembering this meaning of 皮. I think I learned 顽皮 first, but I feel like I hear 调皮 more.

皮 pí - leather / skin / fur / CL: 張｜张 / pico- (one trillionth) / naughty

往事 wǎngshì - past events / former happenings 过往 guòwǎng - to come and go / to have friendly relations with / in the past / previous

过往 is a very tricky word for me because I have trouble remembering the in the past/previous definition. After so many years of only using 往 for things like 往前走, I have struggled to learn words like 来往 and 交往. So another definition of 往 is kind of too much for me I guess!

往 wǎng - to go (in a direction) / to / towards / (of a train) bound for / past / previous

被子 bèizi - quilt / CL: 床

I remember learning 被子 in Chinese classes and being surprised to see that 被 could mean quilt. But it would not stick in my memory, so I was constantly failing to recall 被子 while doing Anki. Fortunately, thanks to the song 红色高跟鞋 by 蔡健雅, I will never struggle to remember 被子 again.

被 bèi - quilt / by / (indicates passive-voice clauses) / (literary) to cover / to meet with

幸亏 xìngkuī - fortunately / luckily 多亏 duōkuī - thanks to / luckily

This one really gets to me because I feel like “deficit” and “luckily” are so, so opposite. There must be an interesting explanation for how 亏 ended up with both these meanings. I still have trouble remembering what 幸亏 and 多亏 actually mean.

亏 kuī - deficiency / deficit / luckily / it's lucky that... / (often ironically) fancy that...

不服 bùfú - not to accept sth / to want to have sth overruled or changed / to refuse to obey or comply / to refuse to accept as final / to remain unconvinced by / not to give in to 服从 fúcóng - to obey (an order) / to comply / to defer 服药 fúyào - to take medicine

I am pretty sure I first encountered this meaning of 服 when I heard the song 《不服》 performed by 汪苏泷 and some of the trainees on 青春有你2. I was very confused by it. Even after seeing the dictionary definitions, I struggled to understand how to use the word 不服. It simply took lots more exposure for me to grasp it. 服 as in 服药 still trips me up to this day. I’ve kind of given up on trying to remember it.

服 fú - clothes / dress / garment / to serve (in the military, a prison sentence etc) / to obey / to be convinced (by an argument) / to convince / to admire / to acclimatize / to take (medicine) / mourning clothes / to wear mourning clothes

输入 shūrù - to import / to input 运输 yùnshū - to transport / to carry / transportation

I felt borderline betrayed upon learning the word 运输. I felt like 输 was cheating on its partner 赢! I was also really confused at the time because I had no idea what “to lose” had to do “transportation” haha. I’ve come to accept 输入 simply because I see it so much that it’s become very normal to me.

输 shū - to lose / to transport / to donate / to enter (a password)

领取 lǐngqǔ - to receive / to draw / to get 

I “learned” 领取 in Chinese class a couple years ago, but it never stuck for me. Then I saw 领 in the contexts of something like 领奖项. I was confused and looked up 领 in the dictionary. Then I had an ohhhh moment. Now I’m finally able to remember 领取!

领 lǐng - neck / collar / to lead / to receive / classifier for clothes, mats, screens etc

拼命 pīnmìng - to do one's utmost / with all one's might / at all costs / (to work or fight) as if one's life depends on it

From 拼音 and 拼写 to 拼命! It’s a pretty jarring difference to be honest! But idol survival shows (which I watch too many of) include 拼 or 拼命 A LOT, so I’ve gotten used to it.

拼 pīn - to piece together / to join together / to stake all / adventurous / at the risk of one's life / to spell

[the-widow-sisters]

Hi darling,

Could it be (whenever you have availability and/or ideas come to you) do one where old acquaintances of Kate find her somewhere and insult and belittle her for how her family ended?

Situation of her that leads her to withdraw until the team finds her and helps her recover... High society can be ruthless and despicable when you no longer frequent those circles.

I just think, you decide (or maybe it already exists and I missed it)...

A/N: Thank you so, so much for the request! 💖 I changed this one up just a little for the crazy idea I had for it, so hopefully that’s okay! 💗

Also, hopefully this one isn’t as big of a mess as I kind of feel like it is 😅😬 I’ve had the flu the past few days and I’m kind of still suffering with it. However, I wanted to get this one done for y’all 💖

I hope you enjoy! 😊

Word Count: 2258

  “It’s been so great to catch up with you guys,” Kate’s voice sounded off not too far away from where Natasha was walking by, and Natasha furrowed her brow a little in confusion as she paused near the doorway to the common room. She was not sure who Kate was talking to, but she thought that she would stop for just a moment to try to overhear what was going on.

  “Yeah, sure,” someone replied to her, a surprising indifference in their voice.

  “It’s been cool,” another unfamiliar voice piped up casually, and Natasha peered in just barely, trying to figure out what was going on and who was talking to Kate.

  To her surprise, there were three fancily dressed girls that looked to be about Kate’s age, and Natasha could not help but remain still, trying to assess the situation as she attempted to understand what was going on. They seemed to be people that Kate knew, and based on their mode of dress, it must have been people that Kate knew from her past and during her time among the richer side of society.

  Kate looked slightly strained as she remained standing there and speaking to them, and Natasha decided that she would stick around and keep an eye on things for a little longer.

  Natasha had been heading off to go help Steve get some sort of gift together for Carol. However, at the realization that Kate was thrown in amongst what appeared to be wolves in sheep’s clothing, she figured that he could likely wait.

  “Too bad it’ll be a while before we see you again,” one of the girls told Kate, and Natasha could immediately read the falseness in her tone despite how she reached out and touched Kate’s arm kindly. She wondered if Kate could see it, too.

  “Oh, wait, but won’t you be going to the Annual Fall Charity Ball this year? Your mother did used to be the host,” the other girl pointed out, and Natasha instantly felt herself bristle as she kept an eye on the situation. These girls were definitely not here to see an old friend again. These girls were out for blood, and Natasha could just feel the aura coming off of them.

  “No, probably not. I’ve got a lot of stuff to do here. Being an official Avenger-in-training has been a lot of work,” Kate admitted, chuckling as she overall looked somewhat nervous.

  “Ah… Avenger-in-training…”

  There was a moment of silence before one of the girls spoke up once again.

  “I guess you probably weren’t even invited to the ball, though, were you?” she questioned in a manner that was more of an expectant statement. Kate did not have an overly physical reaction to the statement, but Natasha could see her slight change in body language that gave away the feelings beneath the surface.

  “Well, not really. I don’t have time for it anyway, Jessica,” Kate expressed, and Jessica made a sad face, poking her lip out a little as she reached out and patted Kate’s arm.

  “Oh, poor you… I’d tell myself that, too, if I wasn’t invited,” Jessica nodded, her lips drawn in a thin line as she looked at Kate. Kate furrowed her brow, stepping back a little as she drew in on herself somewhat.

  It was at that moment that Natasha decided she was done hearing these girls push Kate around like this.

  And as much as she herself wanted to charge in and take care of the problem, she knew that she was not going to be able to get through to these girls. Not in the manner that they needed to be communicated with.

  So she withdrew her phone and started to text Tony.

  “Stark, get to the common room right now, and I’ll tell everyone I see for a solid day that you are the smartest man I know,” Natasha texted quickly, her fingers flying across the keyboard as she typed to the one and only person that could successfully get Kate out of this situation right now.

 After all, if the only language they spoke was rich snob, it was time to speak it right back to them. And if Tony played it the way that Natasha was explaining to him via text at the moment, then he should likely be able to send the message loud and clear…

  Once she finally finished writing out the instructions, a text came back to her.

  “Be right there. And you better be serious about that smartest man you know thing,” he replied almost as soon as she had finished typing, and Natasha huffed, figuring that she would respond to him once he had done the job as she tucked her phone away in her pocket.

  To her great satisfaction, Tony suddenly came flying through one of the doorways, true to his word and dressed in his most advanced Iron Man suit. The rich kids immediately froze, gaping as they stared at someone who was easily one of the richest men in the world.

  Tony made an elaborate show of it as his nanotech faded away, disappearing into the chest piece that was made into his button-down, and all that was left was him in a very fancy suit, wearing his FRIDAY-enhanced glasses.

  “FRIDAY, identify our guests,” Tony spoke up as he approached, and Kate was somewhat staring at him as well as he walked toward her in particular.

  “Cheryl Carrington, Elizabeth Meyers, and Jessica Buchanan, sir,” FRIDAY pointed out, and he nodded as he stopped next to Kate as he looked at the three of them. They were all standing with their mouths hanging open, and Kate was honestly somewhere close to their same level of utter shock.

  “Tony… Tony Stark!” Elizabeth cried, and Tony just narrowed his eyes, looking at her as he remained completely unbothered.

  “Yes. And who are you again?” Tony questioned, squinting a little as he looked at her.

  “My dad’s Harry Meyers? The owner of the largest ice cream fast food chain in upstate?” she questioned, her demeanor only able to be described as utterly and painfully prissy as she stated her identity as if being the daughter of that person were actually special compared to the people that Tony dealt with on a daily basis.

  “Never heard of him,” Tony indifferently replied, shrugging as he took off his glasses and looked down at them. He rubbed them on his shirt the best that he could as he cleaned them, and the one that Natasha remembered as Cheryl spoke up, her hand on her hips.

  “Well, surely you’ve heard of my mom. You know… The creator of the sparkling water brand Pétillante?” she put special emphasis on the end of the word, beyond proud of herself for her mother’s identity.

  “I don’t know her, but I know her water,” he declared, and she puffed up with utter and complete pride as she looked at the others with far too much happiness for her own good.

  “It tastes like a dog peed in a bottle of ginger ale,” he continued, and she instantly deflated. Natasha chuckled from where she was standing in the doorway, and Kate seemed as if she were valiantly trying to hold back laughter at their expense as she gazed at Tony in awe.

  Jessica finally stepped up, her voice full of fake positivity as she looked at him.

  “Of course you wouldn’t know their parents, Mr. Stark,” Jessica informed him, trying to sound better than the other two as she stood before him. They shot her a resentful look, and she just grinned widely, showing off her far too white teeth that looked almost unnatural in her mouth.

  “And who’re yours?” he questioned.

  “Mine is Chandler Buchanan, owner of the company that’s the largest producer of steel in the entire state of New York,” she very proudly answered him, and he just eyed her tiredly.

  “I am personal friends with the king of the country that is the largest and sole producer of vibranium in the world,” Tony informed her, and her smile quickly started to fade as she gaped at him.

  “I honestly could not care less about steel. Much less the largest New-York-specific producer,” he bluntly finished her, and she clammed up quickly, moving back to stand with her other two friends.

  Tony looked at Kate, smiling kindly as he placed his hand on her shoulder.

  “And as nice as talking business is, my job as Iron Man and an Avenger comes first. That’s how we bring in new recruits like your very talented friend here who is nearly tied in record with the best archer in the world,” he explained, and Kate’s eyes were wide, but she quickly tried to control her shock despite the fact that the surprise was oozing off of her in waves.

  Natasha knew that Tony had not been someone that Kate had ever really gotten to know too overly well, but it made her very happy to see that he was so willing to help her. It made her happy also to see those kids getting what they deserved for messing with her other little sister.

  “But what would you three know about that? I guess outside of flouncing around at charity balls just to have the chance to show off new dresses and flirt with the sons of men richer than your parents, you three probably don’t have much to do with the do-gooder side of things, huh?” Tony questioned, and Natasha almost snorted as she leaned against the doorframe a little more heavily, crossing her arms as she listened.

  They all three looked exceedingly and strongly offended at this point, and Kate almost looked like she was going to burst into laughter at any moment. Tony, to his credit, never changed his expression, remaining just as serious as he had been before.

  “Well… You know,” Jessica picked up her phone, looking at it before quickly putting it away.

  “We’ve got to go. We have a lot of important things on our schedule,” Jessica declared, and Elizabeth and Cheryl nodded along with her, agreeing as they got their stuff together. Kate furrowed her brow, innocence in her face but a gleam of something a little less than perfectly innocent in her eyes.

  “I thought you guys came today because you didn’t have anything to do?” Kate spoke up, and they all immediately started stumbling over their words as they started toward the door.

  “Well… Something came up. So we’ve got to go,” Jessica assured her, and they all scurried out. They watched them go, and as soon as they had gotten out the door, Kate laughed. Tony smirked coolly, pleased with himself as he straightened.

  “Oh, my gosh… They were so embarrassed,” Kate laughed, and Tony shrugged, chuckling.

  “They had it coming, honestly,” he replied easily, and Kate turned toward him a little more fully as she eyed him gratefully.

  “Thank you so much for the save. How did you even know they were here?” she asked curiously, and Tony moved his head in a noncommittal gesture.

  “As much as I totally did most of the heavy lifting, you can thank Romanoff over there for letting me know in the first place,” Tony gestured to Natasha, and Kate turned her head quickly, looking at her in surprise.

  Natasha smiled warmly as she looked at the younger girl. Kate’s eyes softened, and a giant, loving grin came onto her face. Tony headed over to Natasha, aiming to pass by her and head back to his lab. However, just as he was even with her, he paused briefly.

  “I expect you to pay up on your end of the deal,” he said to her, and Natasha just huffed, raising an eyebrow.

  “We’ll see, Stark. I might just lock myself in my room with Yelena all day,” she informed him, and Tony clicked his tongue.

  “I don’t think so. I’ll get you out one way or another,” he warned as he walked away, and Natasha shook her head, rolling her eyes fondly before turning her attentions to Kate and walking toward her.

  “Thank you, Tasha,” Kate expressed, and Natasha shook her head.

  “You don’t have to thank me,” Natasha expressed as she moved nearer, softly brushing Kate’s hair out of her face. Despite the adoration in Kate’s eyes, Natasha noticed quickly that Kate seemed to have just a little insecurity and hurt hiding within her gaze.

  Natasha then raised both of her hands to cradle Kate’s face in her grasp. Kate slouched just a little to allow Natasha better access.

  “Kate, you’re one of the best people I’ve ever had the pleasure of knowing. And you’re definitely among the most pure and good-hearted. Don’t let those girls make you feel any less than just because you’re not going to those charity balls or other high society things,” Natasha explained to her as she held her face softly in her hands, her thumbs softly rubbing Kate’s cheeks below her eyes. Kate nodded gently, smiling as she gazed at her with nothing but the most love and the deepest admiration.

  “I won’t,” Kate promised, and Natasha smiled gently as she pulled the girl into a tight hug. Kate wasted no time in returning it, leaning against Natasha heavily as she buried her face in Natasha’s shoulder with a gentle smile.

  Natasha was telling the truth. Kate was truly one of the most special people in the world.

  Natasha just hoped that Kate never lost sight of that.

[your-daily-biaswrecking]

Hello! can you do a scenario with fem!reader and father's best friend!namjoon? I totally understand if this is a concept you're uncomfortable with. All the armys are going crazy with the dilf!bts concept so I need to have this 😭

Tbh that's a hard concept (like absolutely don't do this irl y'all plss it's not okay if it's not fiction– go in the notes to read my PSA pls) so I had to write a bit of plot at the beginning just because I wanted to make it as less weird as possible lol

Namjoon wasn't the type of family friend you got to see a lot growing up. He was, however, the type of friend you got to hear about a lot. Your dad had spent his high school years being in a band that never really had its break, and Namjoon had apparently been the youngest member and your father's favourite. He kept talking about how he "raised" him, meaning he helped him get his first kiss and taught him about girls. Then your dad got your mum pregnant right after graduating, and they both decided to move to the US to find a job and start their family. Your family. And so your dad lost touch with his best friend.

He talked about him quite often, and you knew he had even visited once when you were still too young to have a memory of it. You had only ever seen a couple of pictures of them together; Namjoon looked like a very cringy 13-year-old with a terrible haircut. Not that your dad as a teenager looked any better. But that's beside the point. It doesn't matter what he looked like back then, today you probably wouldn't be able to even recognize him even if he passed you on the street.

"Did I tell you? My best friend moved here from Korea! The band kids are back together!"

Namjoon came back into your father's life at around the same time as you left it– moved away for college. And you kept getting all these updates on how great it was that they found each other again, how many things they did together and in general how happy your dad was. When you visited home for Christmas, Namjoon was away so you didn't run into him. And almost a year after he had moved there, you would finally meet him during the summer. Your father invited him for dinner one hot evening in July.

You opened the door to find him standing outside, your mother just a step behind to greet him. “Joonie! So glad you could make it. Come on in, come on in... Ah! As you know, this is our daughter.”

The man was tall and handsome, nothing like the pictures you had seen. And familiar. His eyes met yours and he smiled, making your blood run cold— you had seen that man before. Not even a week ago, staring at you at the bar while sipping his whiskey until you decided he was too hot and couldn’t be older than 30, so you walked up to him and gave him a napkin with your number and a lipstick stain of a kiss on it. He never called.

“Wow,” Namjoon said without his tone matching his words. “She has grown up so much.” And he looked you up and down again, checking you out kind of like he had done that night. Your entire face was burning, turning on your heels to get away. What the fuck kind of luck was that? He was your dad's friend? You hoped– you begged that he didn't recognize you. He wasn't saying anything, though his eyes kept on stealing looks, and so you thought you might have had a close escape. Until you run into each other in the kitchen. Alone. "Come here, young lady," he said in a deep voice that sent shivers down your spine. You already felt like you were in trouble. "Does your father know you go around giving your number to men almost twice your age?"

He was so close, eyes travelling lazily down your form with a smirk on his lips. "No," you choked. "I– I don't– You were staring at me, that's why I thought..."

"I was staring at you because I was trying to figure out if you were my best friend's daughter."

Hearing him say the words made your cheeks burn. Defeat. He had a logical excuse and all you had was that he was a little too much your type. And he sounded like he was scolding you, reminding you of your place. You lowered your head, really wanting to get out. "Please don't tell him."

Don't tell him I hit on you. Don't tell him I wanted to fuck you.

Namjoon didn't reply right away, but late that night you got a text from an unknown number. "I won't tell him anything."

He won't tell him anything. Perhaps that could be applied to what had already happened, or what would happen in the future.

You didn't text frequently, but you did nonetheless. And even though you were sure both of you would say they were simple, innocent texts, how innocent could they really be when the man already knew how you felt about him? Maybe you were crazy, but you thought he might like you too. Maybe he liked the fact that you liked him. It wasn't evident in anything he did or say, just the vibes you got from him those days he visited your house, or the way he looked at you when you were left alone for a second. The summer passed by so fast when every other day you met your father's best friend in one way or another.

When it was time for you to move back to the city where you attended college, Namjoon just so happened to be going there for some work too. And your parents were grateful that you had someone to travel with. The car ride was long and mostly silent. You had never been left alone for so long and suddenly you realised how hard it was to keep a conversation going without talking about how horny he made you feel just by being in the same, tight space with you. But the farther away you got from home, the less you cared about keeping your good reputation up.

"Where will you sleep tonight?" you asked him after he helped drop off all your stuff at your apartment late that night and was already at the door, ready to leave.

"I'll find a hotel," he told you, hand still on the door handle.

"You can stay here if you want to."

"Don't–" His plea was soft-spoken, in contrast to the intense way his eyes were piercing yours.

"Don't what?" you acted dumb. "All I'm saying is I'm sure dad would rather you stay instead of paying for a room. You're like family, anyway."

You noticed how he took in a deep breath, grip around the knob getting harder. "Don't bring him into this."

Saying that you two shouldn't mention your father was like admitting what was going on right now was beyond innocent. And even though your stomach clenched at his harsh tone, you bowed your head and whispered. "I'm sorry."

"This is so wrong," you heard him call loudly all of a sudden, making you look back at him. He was chewing on his lip desperately. "I was there when your dad got your mom pregnant. Do you know what I said? Fuck, man, how are you gonna get out of this bullshit? I shouldn’t be…"

You blinked at him, waiting to hear the end of the sentence. "Shouldn't be what?" You weren't gonna let him slip away that easily. You would push him until he had to say what he wanted to say. It was your only chance, anyway.

Namjoon sighed. He pushed the door closed and walked up to you steadily all while he was staring straight into your eyes. "Why did you give me your number that night?"

Your breathing was already getting heavier. You wouldn't back away. What was the point? He knew already. "Because you were hot. And I wanted you to fuck me."

He chewed his lip for a few seconds, watching your face as he contemplated his next words. "Why do you want me to stay over tonight?"

You gulped. He was so close, closer than ever. "Because you're hot," you whispered. Glance down on his lips. "And I want you to fuck me."

He closed his eyes momentarily before he was exhaling loudly. "Fucking– hell!"

And he instantly moved forward, one hand grabbing the back of your head as he brought your face to crush on his, mouths smashing against each other after all the times you had dreamed about it. It was so much better than you could have imagined, lips full and soft parting yours for his tongue to slip in between, making you moan. And you were trying to get closer and closer, almost tripping as you walked blindly further into the apartment. His jacket was discarded on the floor before your shirt joined it, and Namjoon was growling before attacking your neck with his teeth.

"Daddy..." The word truly slipped out of you, and he was pausing for a moment, pulling away to look at you.

"Really? You're really gonna call me daddy?" Your eyes were wide and cheeks burning, squirming away from him before he grabbed your wrist to keep you close. "Shit," he grunted, not sounding mad at all. "Alright, baby. Show daddy where your room is, need to get you in bed right away."

And you mewled at his words. You were there in no time, pulling the rest of your clothes off as Namjoon undressed too. Big and thick, he was even hotter like that, making you press your legs together as you took the sight in. And when he removed his boxers too, you got to found out his dick matched the rest of his body perfectly, long and thick and so hot it made your mouth water.

"Daddy," you whined as he started crawling over you. "You're so big. You're gonna tear me apart."

His large hand grabbed your jaw. "That's what you get for playing with big boys." And he kissed you ruthlessly again. His other hand travelling down your form until he found your pussy, fingers playing with your folds and humming in satisfaction. "So wet. Is that all for me, baby?"

"Yes, daddy," you moaned, hips trying to grind on his hand for some more friction. "I've been wet for you since I first saw you."

"Fuck. I know, baby," he breathed into your ear, two fingers slipping slowly inside you and stretching you out. "I could tell. You weren't hiding it very well, baby. How much you wanted me to ruin you. Which is why daddy's been hard for you all this time, too." Your breath was hitching as he was moving his hands slowly, not even trying to fuck you like that, just trying to get you ready for his cock. And he stopped. "Are you gonna let daddy fuck you raw, baby?"

You almost screamed. "Fuck, yes, daddy, please! Fuck me open with your cock."

Namjoon was growling as he retrieved his fingers from inside you. "What a dirty mouth! Who taught you to speak like that, you dirty, little whore? I thought you were a good girl."

Your nails were scratching his back as you whined and squirmed underneath him. "Oh, daddy, please! I need you! I'll be good for you."

And you felt the tip of his dick press against your entrance as he shushed you. "Alright then. Be a good girl for daddy and take this big cock like the good, little slut you are." And he shoved himself in you.

"O–oh my god!" you yelped. Namjoon didn't go easy on you, didn't go slow or gentle, he started pounding you fast and hard right away, truly fucking you open like you had asked him to. You were squirming underneath him but his body was so big and strong, it was caging you completely. And just to shut you up he kissed you again, tongue so deep in your mouth he was choking you. Namjoon was fucking you so hard he brought tears to your eyes, and you felt euphoric being used by him like that.

"My dirty, little cunt," he rasped after he freed your mouth. "Like taking my cock like that?" You were nodding, mewling, unable to speak. "What a good girl. Letting daddy fuck her as hard as he wants." He leaned back, grabbing your arms until he had your wrists pinned above your head and the new position gave him the ability to piston his hips against yours even faster, diving even deeper.

"Fuck, daddy, I'm gonna cum," you cried, legs shaking as they fought against his abusing thrusts between them.

"So easy," Namjoon panted with a smirk. "So easy to please you. Gonna cum cuz you've never had dick like daddy's before, huh? No one's ever fucked you this good? Those little boys your age, I bet they don't know shit about pleasing a nasty girl like you." He spat on his free hand and brought it right down on your clit, pressing on it hard. And you were moaning even louder. "There you go, baby. You can cum on daddy's dick now."

"Namjoon–" you yelped, and you felt your orgasm pop, gushing all your juices over him as he kept fucking you through it. He slowed down a bit, coming down to kiss you sloppily as you continued to whine with each thrust against your sensitive, tight walls.

"That's my good girl," he whispered, kissing you almost lovingly. "Don't worry, baby. We're not nearly done yet." And his thrusts slowly got deeper and deeper. "You really shouldn't have let me fuck you, baby. Cuz now I don't ever plan on stopping."

Masterlist | Part 2

[yesimwriting]

Dying Starlight

A/n: i dont think an audience for this exists?? ik it’s not shadow and bone related, but ive been reading red queen and i wanted to try writing maven and ive been playing with this idea. umm...on the off-chance that there is an audience for this i do think of this as more of a series but i’ll probably end up deleting this lol 

(Series?) Summary: reader is a childhood friend of Mare’s who isn’t officially part of the Scarlet Guard but gets captured by Maven. As a prisoner, she feels like her mind is being messed with as she begins to see a more human side of Maven. The new King tells himself the only thing he sees in her is that she’s a way to get to Mare, but something about her genuiness is infectious. 

-- 

Irony twists things. Right now, the irony that my last thoughts might be about how I wish I had been trusted with a suicide pill twist my impending doom into something almost comical. I’d laugh, but I’d rather not startle the rats in my cell. This has been their home for presumably years, but I’ve only been down here a few hours. 

I scratch the back of my wrist, staring at tired stone walls like they’ve done something to me. I wish I knew what time it was. How long have I been down here? How long has it been since I was separated from Mare? An hour? Three?Each passing minute strikes me like a bullet, but I can’t count them. I’ve never had a talent for accurately feeling the passage of time.

My head aches, frustration and dread tangling themselves in the pit of my stomach. Mare told me the Queen can search through someone’s mind, seeing memories even they can’t remember. What will they do when they see I know virtually nothing? What will happen when they see how close Mare and I truly are? i can’t do anything and the unknown hurts more than my bruised rib. 

The sound of the heavy door that divides the luxury of the castle from the wasteland of the cells creaks. I only let my arms flinch, moving from my side to wrap defensively around my stomach. Dull footsteps echo down the pathway that lead to the cell I’m in. I don’t cringe, not even when the sound of walking stops. 

I was not born into a rich family, but I was born into a proud one. Fear was practically a criminal act in my household. I’ve been trained to suppress all signs of weakness. My eyes don’t leave the stone wall, I mentally trace the pattern of a long crack in a specific rock. It reminds me of the slope of the Big Dipper. 

Will I ever see stars again? The answer leaves a sharp pain in my chest. 

“Mare told me about you.” 

The words jar me, my stomach dropping in revulsion. Mare had trusted him, and here he stands--successful because he’s a traitor. I know what it’s like to be the most overlooked sibling and to crave to change that. I know what it’s like to want to succeed more than you want air in your lungs, but I don’t think I’d ever betray someone. I like to think that there’s a line even the monster in me won’t cross. 

I don’t look at him, partially out of an attempt to protest and partially because I’m afraid of what I’ll see. “She might have mentioned you in passing.” 

His scoff is ridiculous. “She didn’t lie about your sense of humor.” 

That almost makes me wince. His words are too close, too personal. It’s like he knows me. I turn my. head, ready to cut through the uneasy beginning to get to the miserable middle if it brings me to the end faster. 

“You’re here to torment me, not make small talk.” Turning had been a mistake. I regret it instantly. His expression is unforgiving--cold, sharp, and made up of only angles. But that’s not why I stare. I did not expect him to be objectively attractive. The fine slope of his nose, the sharpness of his cheekbones, and the ice blue of his eyes. I need to snap out of this mindset. I’m sure his beauty will not be so distracting when he’s burning me. “Though some might consider that the same thing.” 

He scoffs again, the sound dry. The sneer of his lips does not diminish his attractiveness. The fact makes me loathe him. “I wonder if you’ll still be so prone to humor after you’ve been broken--any information of worth extracted from your thoughts.” 

“Let me save everyone the trouble and just tell you everything that I know now.” My back straightens despite the pain in my ribs. I look pathetic, dirty and in a torn dress. He’s regal, dressed in fine, all black clothing. “I know that Mare wanted to kill you today, I know that she needed a distraction and that her distraction needed to be expendable, which is why I’m sitting in front of you.” I squeeze my hands together awkwardly, a bit of genuine irritation rolling in my stomach. “That’s literally all I know, I’m not even part of the Guard.” I scratch the back of my wrist. If I were him, I wouldn’t believe that, but I’m being honest. How pitiful can one person be that they’re worth more disconnected from the group they work for than as an actual member? “You don’t take that kind of risk for someone that’s only skill set is in thought.” 

I didn’t mean to say that out loud, but I don’t regret it. Maybe he’ll think that my story is so pathetic it has to be true. “You have to know more than that.” 

“The Scarlet Guard only reaches out to me on a need-to-know basis, and anything worthwhile to you is something I clearly didn’t need to know.” In a way, I’m glad I can’t give him anything. “So are you going to kill me with a bullet or do you prefer more flamboyant executions?” My death should be plain. I am human completely--I bleed red and I have no powers. “I do think anything more than a simple death is more trouble than I’m worth.” 

His lips press together oddly, something beneath his expression tightening. “You don’t think your dearest friend will return for you?”

The sarcasm in his voice sparks something in me I thought only my sister could. “I think she has a lot of responsibilities and I wouldn’t blame her for having priorities.” 

His eyebrows draw together. “I think you’re painfully unaware of how attached to you she is.” I press my lips into a thin line. “She’ll come for you.”

Something selfish in me hopes that he’s right. No one has ever wanted me enough to come back for me. My mother wanted perfect daughters that knew how to only think in terms of trapping men with stable careers. My sister did it, but I could never manage, and to my mother that made me useless. 

“If you believe it,” I mumble beneath my breath.

I don’t know if he hears me. I can’t bring myself to care if he did. “For your sake, you better not have lied to me.” 

My back relaxes against the raspy wall, fighting down a grimace as the motion irritates my rib injury. “Cross my heart, Your Highness.” 

I watch him carefully, his expression turning into something much more grim. “A King is referred to as His Majesty.” 

“My father was a prominent war general and my mother only wanted daughters she could use to social climb.” I fight down a grin. “I know what I said.” 

His expression darkens into something bone chilling. “I am the King and you’ll refer to me as such or deal with even less pleasant circumstances.” 

I fight against the urge to cower, picturing Mare’s strength in my veins. There’s weakness in everyone, and if I squint I can see the thin cracks in him. “You have everything--the crown, the power, the support of the people, and it’s still not enough. You won and you still feel like you’re competing.” 

“You don’t know anything,” he seethes, practically growling. 

I shouldn’t press him, but the more he reacts, the more weaknesses are revealed. “I know what it’s like to have a sibling that’s the sun, and no matter what you do, no matter how hard you try, you’re always trapped in a shadow.” 

The lighting makes his eyes look almost glazed over. “My mother will be here soon and the truth will be revealed.” 

He can run from me, but not the truth. Cal has nothing, he has everything--the father that never cared for him is dead, and yet he’s still trapped. Our similarities hurt me more than my physical injuries. 

Maven turns, his gaze moving off of me feels like the removal of heavy shackles. “It would do you well to not press me. You’re worth as much whole as you are broken.” 

There’s the strangest hint of something more to his voice. I wonder if he’s speaking to more than just me. “You haven’t won until that voice in your head telling you that you’re not enough is silenced.”

“You’re a powerless girl who isn’t even wanted by a dying cause and couldn’t find a husband to drag her above the poverty line. You know nothing about me, and if you keep pretending I’ll slaughter you in front of your dear friend.” 

He leaves without another word. I fall asleep with my back against the wall and my ribs aching. 

[marvelmusing]

Biology Lessons

Alpha!Modern!Laszlo Kreizler x Omega!Fem!Reader

My Masterlist

A/N: I was curious about the biology of A/B/O and ended up reading a lot of Wikipedia pages, 3000 words and a small Alpha Laszlo obsession later here we are

WARNINGS: 18+ content, unprotected smut, A/B/O dynamics, reader has female anatomy but no gender specific pronouns have been used (if there have been please let me know)

You and Laszlo had been together for two years. During this time you had been intimate on plenty of occasions, however you’d always ignored your secondary sex. When together, you were just two lovers, not an Alpha and Omega. You had limited experience with dealing with your biology and Laszlo had respected your decision to stay on your suppressants. He, in turn, had begun taking some of the weaker forms of suppressants. The kind that reduced his rut to a few days that he spent at John’s house. This situation worked well, until you reached the point where you changed your mind and wanted to come off your suppressants. You trusted Laszlo to help you through it and he was more than eager to take care of you.

“Have you ever had a heat?” Laszlo asks you. The two of you are sitting in his downstairs office at his house. The fire crackles in the hearth, casting a glow over Laszlo’s face as he watches you. Your eyes wander as you think about it.

“Once or twice when I first presented. But I started on suppressants pretty young.” He frowns a little, and you know his medical side disapproves. “We never learnt much about it in school.” You explain, trying to justify your decision. He nods immediately,

“Of course. The education system is curated for the success of Alphas. That, and sex education regarding Omegas is still often considered taboo.” He places a hand on your knee, “That’s not your fault, drágám.” You nod, keeping your focus on the hem of the robe you’re wearing - Laszlo’s bathrobe. “Would you like me to explain it to you?” Your face warms at the thought, and you shake your head.

“You don’t have to.”

“No, but I’d like to. I think you deserve to know about yourself.” You give him a small nod. He smiles kindly at you and beckons you closer. When you approach him, he pulls you into his lap. “What would you like to know?” He asks you. You shrug slightly, fiddling with your fingers.

“I don’t know.” You admit quietly. He hums in thought, before asking you,

“How would you describe my scent?” You nuzzle your face into the crook of his neck as you inhale his scent. He smiles softly, his hand resting at the back of your neck, knowing that his scent will take the edge off your nerves. Your eyes flutter open as a small smile tugs at your lips.

“It’s like the citrus soap from my grandmother’s house, and the smell of new books, and your office, and like home.” You tell him and he squeezes the back of your neck affectionately.

“You smell like a field of fresh flowers, clean linen, and warm sugared tea. Soft and sweet, and safe.” He admits. You smile up at him as you lean your temple against his shoulder. He taps your nose gently with the tip of his finger. “The scent receptors in your nose pick up my scent and your body’s response depends on how appealing you find it.”

“Very appealing.” You admit against his neck and he hums affectionately.

“This is what helps you decide on my suitability as a mate. As well as other factors such as aesthetics, personality, and overall attraction.”

“That, and you’re one of the kindest, most loving men I’ve ever met.” He looks down, never used to the praise you always give him. His smile widens as he leans in to kiss your cheek.

“Enough flattery from you. It’s time for our lesson.” He tightens his hold on you as you smile at him, resting his weaker hand on your thigh. “Heat cycles occur once every season, so usually four in a year. The heat itself lasts between five and ten days, but that depends on the person.” His thumb skims across the skin of your bare legs lightly. “While Omegas can be sexually active outside of their heat, it is much more pleasurable during their cycle.” You’ve always loved listening to him talk, but hearing him explain all this to you has your body melting against his as your eyes remain fixed on his lips as he speaks. “Did you know that, as your mate, I may be able to trigger your heat?” You blink at him in surprise. You didn’t know that. “It isn’t always possible, but would you like me to try?” He asks, noticing your interest. You nod cautiously, and he takes your hands as he guides you off his lap, before pulling you towards the centre of his office. He sits you down on his desk with your legs parted, and he stands between them. He places his warm hands on your thighs, and nuzzles his nose against your neck. “You know where your scent glands are, yes?” You nod. You tap your finger against the ones on each side of your throat, then bare your wrists to him to show him the areas. You frown before mentioning,

“There’s another pair, I think, but I don’t know where they are.” He smiles proudly at you,

“Correct. There is one here, and here.” He tells you, trailing his fingers along each of your thighs. “They’re a little different from your other ones, which is why most people forget about them.” He squeezes your thighs tenderly as he continues his explanation. “Their main purpose is so that when you go into heat your slick will smell of your Alpha, and tell everyone that you’re taken.” You swallow the whine in your throat, but he knows the effect he’s having on you already. “How long have you been off your suppressants?” He asks you. He knows the answer of course, but he wants to see if your mind is still functioning.

“Around two weeks.” He nods,

“The perfect time to trigger your heat. That is of course if you want to?” You nod hurriedly,

“Please.” He steps closer,

“All I need to do is apply a little pressure here,” the pads of his fingers press against the glands in your thighs. He smiles at the sight of your head falling back, bearing your neck to him. “A little stimulus here.” His tongue moves across the pulse of your throat, sending a shudder down your spine. “And for you to take a nice deep breath.” You do as he says, your body responding instantly to his pheromones. He smells the change in your scent and smiles. “There you go, good Omega.” He coos. You whine at the warmth spreading slowly through your body as you cling to your Alpha. “You should be feeling rather warm now.” You nod your head a few times in agreement. He hums, “And I can smell your slick already.” He nuzzles his lips against your neck, and you whine for him. “By triggering your heat, we’ve skipped the pre-heat nesting stage. But don’t worry Omega, I’ve prepared the bed for you, and you can fix it up just how you like it tomorrow.” You’re beginning to pant and a shimmer of sweat is coating your skin as your fingers tug at his clothing. His words certainly aren’t helping either. He cups your face. “But right now, I think my Omega needs my knot, yes?” You nod hurriedly,

“Alpha, please.” You loop your arms around his neck, wrapping your legs around his torso, and he hooks his hands underneath your thighs. He lifts you from his desk and takes you up to the bed. When you see the bed set up, a large number of pillows at one end, blankets bunched up the sides, and the whole place smells of Laszlo’s cologne. “Laszlo.” You whisper softly, as the sight pulls on your heartstrings.

“I wanted everything to be perfect.” He admits, leaning in to kiss you.

“You’re here, it couldn’t be more perfect.” You tell him through the kiss. You can feel his grin as his mouth moves against yours, the back of your legs meeting the bed, and he guides you down carefully. He pulls at the belt of the bathrobe, letting it fall open and taking a moment to admire you. He pulls away to remove his clothes, and you whimper at the lack of contact. You take this moment as an opportunity to slip the robe from your body, abandoning it on the floor. You turn onto your stomach, hands smoothing up the bedsheets to rest above your head. Hips shifting needily, you arch your back, your knees digging into the mattress. Once he’s undressed, Laszlo looks back at you and his jaw nearly drops, though he’s quick to recover.

“Such a pretty picture, my beautiful Omega, already presenting for me.” He settles between your open thighs, leaning his body over yours. You rut your hips back against his, desperate for any sort of friction. You feel his smirk as his mouth moves across your shoulder. His hand descends between your thighs, fingers pressing against your warm folds. “And you’re so wet already, drágám.” He slips his finger deep into you, drawing a needy gasp from your lips.

“Laszlo, Alpha, please.”

“More?”

“Yes, yes please.” He removes his finger, leaving you whining, your hips chasing him. His hands curl around your waist, squeezing you gently as he tuts.

“Patience Omega.” But you don’t have to wait long, as he lines himself up to your entrance. In one fluid motion he’s filled you up, your eyes squeezed shut and your back arching against the mattress. “Such a perfect fit.” He moans against your neck, his accent getting thicker as you take in every inch of him. He kisses your shoulder delicately.

“Tell me when I can move, édesem.” You take a few gasping breaths, trying to become accustomed to the haze filling your mind. He notices your struggle. “Relax Omega. Let me take care of you.” A tiny whine catches in your throat, then you’re nodding.

“Please, Alpha.” His forehead presses between your shoulder blades as he moves in and out of you. Every single one of your moans and gasps has him nearing the edge of his restraint. Whilst Laszlo wants to focus on you, his need is slowly growing and he wants to ensure you want this.

“Drágám, darling Omega,” he rasps out. “I don’t think I can hold back for much longer.”

“Don’t, please. Don’t hold back.” That’s all it takes for his pace to increase. His fingers dig into the soft flesh of your thighs as he pushes you closer. You press your forehead hard against the plush of the mattress as you feel his knot pushing against your entrance. You whine, desperate for him to fill you completely. Growling against the skin of your back, nails gripping onto your hips, he drives his hips harder against yours. You don’t feel the thin red lines trailing down your thighs as you clench around him. “Are you ready for my knot, Omega? I know you’re close.” You can’t reply. Your mind is completely lost to the feeling of your Alpha taking you to pieces. “I need you to come, so my knot can stuff you full.” As soon as he knows you’re about to come he pushes his knot into you. Your eyes roll back, and you come hard with a broken cry. Only a moment later Laszlo comes as well, his lips grazing down your spine as he does. His knot swells, ensuring none of your slick escapes. Your body goes slack as the two of you attempt to catch your breath. You feel Laszlo’s breathing tickle the skin of your back as it slowly returns to normal. He shifts his weight slightly. “This may feel a little odd.” He warns you. He takes hold of your leg and moves it to the other side of him, effectively spinning you around and lying you down with your back to the mattress. You gasp a little at the change in position, his knot still holding deep inside you. “Now this is better.” He remarks, leaning down to kiss your lips. He takes your hands in his own, letting them run down your spent body. “Can you feel how full you are?” He pushes your hands over your abdomen, your fingers skimming over the bulge caused by his knot. “You did so well Omega, letting me fill you up like this.” He leans forward, nuzzling against your neck. “Such a brave Omega.” He coos. His praises and gentle touches soon have you coming back to your senses. Laszlo notices when the haze has cleared from your eyes, and gives you a soft smile.

“Hi.” You whisper.

“Hello.” The two of you stay in each other’s arms for a while, simply enjoying the close proximity to one another. You rub your fingers over his chest, before reaching up to curl them into the hair at the back of his neck.

“Laszlo,” you say softly, tilting your head back to bear your neck to him. “Can I have your mark?” He seems a little taken aback by your request.

“You- you want…”

“To be yours.” You watch his eyes darken slightly, and he claims your lips again. When he pulls away you’re breathless again.

“You’re sure?”

“I’ve never been more sure of anything.” You tell him. “That is, of course, if you want me.”

“Édesem, you are my world.” You both share a tender smile. He cradles the side of your face before tilting your head back. He nuzzles his lips gently against your throat. “With your current level of endorphins you shouldn’t feel too much pain…”

“I love you.” You interrupt him, your smile wide.

“I love you too, drágám.” He presses a soft kiss to the mating gland at your throat, before sinking his teeth down. You clench your teeth, nails digging into the sheets at the sharp sting of your skin breaking. Then, a wave of pleasure rolls through you as your bond snaps into place. You feel Laszlo lapping at the small wound. “All good?” He asks you. You nod with a smile.

“Though, if you bring up that saliva is a natural healing agent I will kick you out of bed.” He chuckles.

“Before I get my own mark. How cruel.” You frown at him.

“What?”

“Alphas also have a mating gland.” You nod, your frown still present,

“I didn’t think- I’ve never seen-“

“Very few Alphas feel the need to wear their mate’s mark. However, I want the world to know I’m yours.” He smiles, watching the primal urge shimmer in your eyes, though he senses your lingering hesitance. “It won’t hurt me, drágám.” Your eyes flicker down to his neck, and he leans closer. “Right here.” He guides you to the spot against his throat. You cup his face carefully, taking a moment to nuzzle against his neck, breathing in his scent. “Don’t be scared Omega. Take what’s yours.” You sink your teeth into his throat, sucking gently at the break of his skin. You feel him shudder against you as your bond strengthens. You trace your tongue carefully along the wound. He leans down to kiss you again, your first kiss as a mated couple. You share a few more slow, loving kisses before Laszlo pulls away. He reaches down towards the bottom of the bed, pulling out a towel and lying it beneath your hips. You frown lightly at him. “Can’t have our nest getting dirty, can we?” Your face morphs into an affectionate smile. Your mate really does think of everything. You whimper when he pulls out, but he rubs your thighs reassuringly and presses kisses over your face. You giggle softly and he beams at you. He ensures the majority of the mess is soaked up by the towel before discarding it. He presses a kiss to your temple, “I’ll be right back Omega.” He’s gone for under thirty seconds, but you both feel the pull of your bond. When it’s fresh like this you can’t be parted for long. He returns with some wet wipes, and begins to clean the two of you up. The coolness soothes you, pushing the heat symptoms even further away. You smile softly at Laszlo and he shares your smile as the two of you spend a moment admiring one another. He throws the wipes away and settles down by your side. You nuzzle against him, purring contentedly. He presses a gentle kiss to your forehead. “Get some sleep drágám.”

•*•*•*•

Early the next morning, Laszlo is stirred from his sleep by some sort of movement at his side. The bedroom is still in semi-darkness, the sun hasn’t quite risen into the sky yet, but there’s enough light to see by. The sight before him warms his heart. You’re adjusting a pillow beside you, tucking it under the quilt to secure the wall of your nest. You have one of his shirts tucked under your arm, and nuzzle into one of the pillows.

“What are you doing, Omega?” He asks, his voice still thick with sleep. He can feel your blush as you mumble,

“Just getting comfortable.” He chuckles softly, pulling himself closer to you. You immediately melt into his arms, your body lying flush against his chest. He trails a hand down your spine, and despite your shiver, he can feel your body heat increasing.

“Ready to go again?” He suggests. You pout, the tiredness behind your eyes creeping up on you despite the slick gathering between your thighs.

“M’ tired.” You mumble against his chest.

“I know you are.” He coos, guiding your hips towards his. “But all you need to do is be a good Omega and keep me warm.” You sigh in relief at the feeling of him filling you, eyes fluttering shut as he continues, his accent thickening. “Yes, that’s all your heat-ridden body’s good for, isn’t it?” He feels you tighten at his words and he groans against your neck. “Don’t worry Omega, I’m going to take such good care of you.”