#idk if it fits them that much but “then you wonder why I’m bitter’’

[sarafangirlart]

Has anyone made an Optimus and Megatron edit with Casual by Chappell Roan? The song was stuck in my mind the day I was watching the movie lmao.

[wonysugar]

wonder why i’m bitter | julie han

♫⋆｡♪ ₊˚♬ ﾟ. casual — chappell roan

synopsis : friends don’t act like this, you would know that better than anyone else.

pairing : non-idol!julie x fem!reader

genre : smut, angst, smutty angst, if you will! heavy on the angst though sorry.

tags : they were roommates,,, making out, marking, implied possessiveness, implied jealousy, anal rimming (heyyy), strap-on sex, vaginal penetration, cunnilingus, julie is bent ova, and YESS WHO SAID BACKSHOTS, arguing, topsub!femreader, bottomdom!julie, frequent mentions of sexuality, praise kink, cheating?? could you call this cheating,, one singular l-bomb,,, yikesss

warnings : none..? i guess apart from the obvious content warnings here (angst and smut) there’s some underlying internal homophobia themes?? but i don’t think it’s that bad tbh IDK BE WARNED JUST IN CASE

word count : 3,1k

a/n : haiii!! i’m finally posting this draft OUHH it went through so many changes, like for example THE TITLEE?? i was gonna make the title be a lyric to ‘goodluck, babe!’ by chappell roan since i originally based the fic on that but i ended up listening to casual instead and went woaahh,, this fits so much more what the hell?!? but yeahh i think i’m happy with how it turned out! :’) i hope you guys can say the sameedckem

ALSO! first time writing anything involving anal,, while yes i do talk about it often (ahem we all know,,) i was incredibly nervous in the process and this definitely made me step out of my comfort zone, hope it isn’t too apparent in this ;; but yeah, to stop rambling, thank you for reading!! i hope you like itt! :]]

“so…” julie’s friend makes a motion between the two of you with a raised eyebrow, wearing a curious smile. “what exactly are you two?” they ask. you thought about it for a few moments, theoretically, you two are roommates, friends at most. but, if anything, you’re more like a couple behind closed doors. 

you shrug, thinking nothing of it, “i guess we’re kind of like—“

“we’re just friends.” she places, wearing a polite smile at the familiar in front of her before you could even think about the rest of your sentence. when you turn to look at her, she’s avoiding your gaze, already familiar with the type of expression you’re wearing. 

it’s the face you always make when she pushes you away like this.

turning back to her friend, you nod slightly, “yeah. we’re friends.” trying your hardest not to let your dejection show through your smile. 

maybe it’s all just in your imagination, perhaps you guys were never even close to being a ‘thing’ and you were the one who thought too much into it. but alas; no matter from which angle you looked at it, the way she displayed any ounce of affection towards you would always make you overthink what you two were exactly. anything she’d do in the comfort of your own apartment with you was never close to anything she’d do in public, in front of the eyes of everyone walking by. she always acts like she barely knows you whenever she is surrounded by people, whether she knows them or not.

you think about it often.

you think about her often.

you asked yourself, do you even like her like that? well, she’s pretty chill, smart, witty and funny. she’s also beautiful, and one hell of a tease, that much is obvious, you’ve had sex with her numerous times in the past, so sexual attraction is out of the question; you already knew the answer to that. the better question probably was; does she even like you like that?

“you done with them?” says julie, referring to the pile of kitchenware you guys left from last night on the counter as she hugs you from behind and rests her head on your shoulder, her arms wrapping all around your waist and watching you. you, on the other hand, were taken by surprise by the sudden display of affection, so much so that you lost your original train of thought. as much as you knew that she liked physical touch, it always did surprise you whenever you randomly felt her skin come in contact with yours throughout the day. getting quickly accustomed to the feeling of her lips kissing your shoulder, you hummed in response, washing and scrubbing the plate with the soaped-up sponge you were holding.

“almost.” 

she whines in an exaggerated manner, “hurry uppp..” lightly tapping on your stomach and resting her head on your shoulder, before adding, “i miss you.”

you giggle, putting away the plate you were now done washing, quickly grabbing another dirty one, “i’m right here, though?”

“no like,” she left another kiss on your shoulder, “i miss you.” 

you smirked, getting progressively more and more amused by the girl’s foreign, yet familiar behavior towards you, feeling her embrace you even tighter.

“oh yeah? well in that case, i miss you too, julie.”

you knew exactly what the girl in question meant by ‘i miss you’ and you would’ve teased her further if it weren’t for how impatient she was getting, despite how cute it was. her heavily annoyed sighs giving it away, despite those also being sprinkled with a tiny bit of humor. 

“come onn, don’t play dumb with me, smartass.”

so, you pushed the oblivious act aside and obliged, setting the plate down before facing her.

your lips danced in sync with hers as you carried her to your bed. once you got there, you gently sat her down on the edge of the mattress, lips still intertwined whilst her hands glided along the curves of your body, tracing circles with the tip of her index finger on your soft skin. 

you didn’t waste any time in laying her down moments later,, your mouth now eagerly roaming her neck and collarbone and leaving kisses down along her body, successfully marking it up. listening to her quiet hums, you proceeded to slide down her sweatpants, your hands tugging on the waistband.

now left in only her panties, you allowed your fingers to glide over the damp spot in between her legs, teasing the clothed entrance and taking in all of her reactions all at once. 

looking at you through the light brown hair that fell perfectly on her face with hooded eyes and slightly upturned eyebrows, she whispered in a low, husky and raspy tone, “see, baby? see how wet i am for you?”

now, julie had this certain ability to turn even the most confident person alive on this earth into a nervous wreck.

you were, obviously, no exception from her spells. if anything, you, y/n, were a prime example.

you slowly nodded at her words, entranced, feeling yourself fall more and more at her mercy with each second that passed. that earned a smirk from her, putting her hand atop yours, before continuing, “you’re gonna be good and do something about it, right?” 

you nodded once again, this time more eager. 

“words, darling.” she whispered.

“yes,” you muttered in response, a mix of nervousness and eagerness taking over all five of your senses, “o-of course i will.”

she hummed, perfectly content with your adorable answer, before pulling you back into a hungry kiss for another long, pleasant while. that is, until she added something else between kisses, something that made you shudder.

“get the strap.” 

immediately reaching for the drawer next to your bed upon hearing those words, lips still connected to hers, you obeyed and pulled the cabinet open, quickly pulling out the phallic silicone object residing in it as well as the harness, too impatient to feel even embarrassed about the sudden action. 

it didn’t take long before the harness was tight around your hips, the brunette bent over in front of you at the edge of the bed with her panties pulled down to her thighs. you ravished in the sight; her perfect pink pussy sitting before you, slick and wet with desire, begging for you to finally please it properly, practically throbbing in anticipation. who were you to deny her of such pleasure? 

you traced your index finger along her slit, your digit comfortably nestled in between her slippery folds as it slowly teased the entrance. 

rewarded by the sweet sounds coming out of her, you wasted no more time and slowly leaned into her core, giving a long swipe of the tongue to her pussy.

“ohh shitt..” overhearing her moans, you smiled against her as you were now making out with her swollen cunt, intending to taste every drop of her slick, not wasting a single one. your lips circled around her bundle of nerves, giving it small and gentle sucks whilst one of your hands massaged her ass.

subconsciously, julie’s back arched with each movement that your tongue made inside her, her head hung low on the bed as she whimpered filthy praises, her sounds just slightly muffled from the white bedsheet she had over her mouth. 

you heard them, though. 

thank god you heard them.

after a long while of giving more than endless attention to her pussy, you felt your mouth move upwards by itself, driven by the pure desire to make her feel even better than she already was. 

your tongue quickly made its way to her ass, roaming and dancing around her rim, which immediately earned a sharp gasp from her part. you’ve never made it a habit to eat julie’s ass, but whenever you did? it was always enough to cloud your brain with pure, raw want, and it always seemed to catch her pleasantly off-guard, since you’d always do it without any warning. 

you attempted to relax her again by tracing slow circles around her hole with your muscle, before inserting it fully, which you could only assume worked, since you could hear her whines get longer and louder. “fuckk yes baby..” she shamelessly moaned, this time more audibly due to her raising her head up and looking back at you as best as she possibly could, “that’s it, such a sweet girl for me— ah..“ 

using one of your hands, you made sure to thoroughly stimulate her clit, rubbing circles around it and even going as far as to inserting two fingers inside her dripping cunt with your other hand in the process, all whilst the muscle in your mouth flicked way within her, drilling and wriggling as you hummed against her. 

after what felt like hours of you messily rimming her, hours of her pushing herself further onto your mouth, practically fucking herself on you, you figured it was finally time to give her what’d she been wanting ever since she came up behind you in the kitchen.

pulling your fingers out and standing back up, you lined up your strap-on to her aching core, pressing the head against it before slowly inserting its entire length inside of her. 

she let out a groan at the feeling of being penetrated, which progressively turned into longer and more suggestive sounds. it all sounded like music to your ears, it only made you want to please her more.

you reached for her hand, grabbing it upon contact. she squeezed yours with just as much force in return, pleasure visibly taking over her senses. it didn’t take long for you to be full on thrusting into her, either, feeling her walls clench around your fake cock as she babbled praises. 

it was a small gesture, sure, but it made you feel things you weren’t quite certain on how to label.

“such a good girl for me—“ was what she let out, a loud moan escaping her agape mouth whilst you continued pounding her, faster with each second that passed. “f-fuck y/n i love you—“

you saw her lose herself under you, you watched in… admiration? infatuation? whatever it was, you thought she looked mesmerizing, especially with how her brown long hair fell all over the place, how perfect she sounded, how perfect she looked.

how perfect she was.

the words “i love you” resonated in your head. 

“who’s eric?” you ask her, having thrown glances at her phone that was charging on the kitchen counter whilst washing a plate, the singular one you had left untouched due to being… distracted. 

you finished washing it, then turned around, now met with a surprised julie, clothed in a pair of booty shorts and a white tank top, she was fresh out of the shower, towel drying her hair. that is, until she unexpectedly heard you speak that name, her eyes immediately darting between you and the phone, greeted by that man’s contact name and picture on the latter, an incoming phone call from his part. 

“a guy?” she says back, in her usual sarcastic yet gentle and quiet tone, “thought that was obvious enough—“

jealousy and inexplicable possessiveness flooded your senses; you knew most of her friends, but, you had no idea who this ‘eric’ dude was, and that especially ate at you. why was he calling her, on a random weekday at like, 4 pm? you had checked the clock hanging on the wall to confirm the time.

“well yeah but, i don’t think i know an eric.” you stated, wary of what the girl before you was gonna say, “who is he?”

“…i just told you, some dude. i met him on campus and we just exchanged contacts after he complimented me, a while ago.” she replied, slight annoyance cracking through the facade of the joking expression she wore. she ran her dominant hand through her messy and wet hair, causing it to fall back perfectly on the side of her face and her exposed shoulders. 

she added, “sure, he makes it very clear he wants to hook up with me, but that’s all it’ll ever be i think, he’s not the type of guy you’d wanna date seriously. why do you ask—“ 

“no reason.” you cut her off, cold and dry.

she furrowed her eyebrows, the previous annoyance being more and more apparent, this time only paired with confusion. “…what?” 

“so this is completely normal for you? like, you guys hook up and call each other sometimes and you’re just casually telling me about it? what, does he take you out on dates too?” 

“what are you, my girlfriend or something?” she scoffed, bitter and defensive, gently throwing the towel on the couch in close proximity to her, “and what if he does, why’s it such a big deal to you?” 

why is it such a big deal to me?

why is it such a big deal to me?

and before you know it, you’re quickly matching her tone. “i simply don’t understand how you could tell me something so casually, especially right after we—“

“listen, let’s get this straight.” she says to you, “i know that just because you and i fuck sometimes you’re convinced that it’s gotta mean something, that we’re something, but we aren’t. it doesn’t fucking mean shit to either of us and you know that very well. it’s all in good fun; i don’t belong to you, y/n, and i never will.” 

“it’s not about that?” you walked closer to her as you justified, trying to get your point across, “i’m not saying that you belong to me julie i’m just trying to say that—“

her stare pierces right through you as she cuts you off, and you could’ve sworn you noticed her eyes being glossy. her eyebrows furrowed in anger at you, she added on, “who i date isn’t your business. we’re just friends, and that’s all we’ll ever be, end of discussion. don’t try to turn our friendship into something it isn’t.” 

friends?

“so now i’m the crazy one for not liking the fact that you’re talking to that dude?” you eventually yelled back. you didn’t even notice her grabbing her things as you talked, ready to head out, despite her hair still being wet from the recent shower. you, however, noticed how she took her still ringing phone and put on her favorite puffy jacket, her soft hand’s acrylic nails digging and clutching onto the mentioned cellular device as you rambled on and on, irritated beyond comprehension. 

“we’re not fucking dating y/n, it’s all casual, i.. i’m not even into girls like that—” she asserted herself, trying her absolute hardest to sound as convincing as possible. you heard it, though, you heard that little twinge of doubt and guilt in her voice. it’s almost like she, herself, didn’t believe whatever nonsense was coming out of her mouth. 

how funny was it to watch her say that all whilst having the fresh hickeys you left on her neck and collarbone not even a few hours ago?

perhaps eric will notice them, too.

perhaps with that, he’ll realize how good you treat her, how he’ll never be able to do it like you do.

how he’ll never be able to make her feel as good as you do.

“sure, you aren’t.” you scoffed at her words, before proceeding to add on, “since you swear you aren’t, how about you stop acting like you are? you know, instead of giving me shit for getting upset.” 

“sorry?—“ she laughed bitterly, those words cut deep.

let me talk, you thought, let me place a damn word.

you continued, “no, seriously! you always do this julie, you always make me feel like i’m fucking insane for seeing it the way it is, for the way i see us. you’re convinced that there’s nothing between us, that we’re just friends, yet friends don’t randomly kiss me throughout the day for whatever reason, do they? they don’t fuck me and tell me that they love me in the process, do they?” as you spoke, she avoided your gaze and walked right past you, heading straight for the front door.

that’s when you recalled a certain moment, “sure, why not, let’s say, for your sake, that completely normal friends do fuck sometimes; they don’t buy you stupid lovey-dovey bullshit on valentine’s day and drive you to the middle of nowhere to stargaze, they do not take you out at night and take every opportunity to kiss you in public whenever nobody’s looking, they don’t fucking say they love you while you’re deep inside them— i mean for fuck’s sake julie do you hear yourself??”

she stopped in her tracks in front of the door, her hand resting on the doorknob. she hates it when you read her like a book, she hates it when you call her out on being the way she acts with you, she hates it when you stare at her like that— she fucking hates you. she fucking hates you for making her feel the way she does, for making her question everything about herself, she hates herself for thinking about you whenever she’s with him—

she let out a noise, something in between a sob and a laugh, before looking back at you with tear-filled eyes, she stared at you, up and down. her eyebrows twitching slightly, she then set her eyes on the ground and bit her lip in what seems to be frustration, frustration aimed both at you and herself.

“if i knew it was gonna be like this, i would’ve never done anything with you to begin with.” her voice was shaky.

you watched her figure as she turned the doorknob and slammed the door on you, with a loud clack. just like that, the apartment was empty, silent and once again, peaceful.

she’d be back, of course, whether she decides to sleep somewhere else and come back the next day or sneak back in here in the middle of the night on this same day, she always comes back after a fight. still, despite knowing that, you couldn’t help but feel like drowning in your own guilt, as this argument wasn’t like any other other. her pained expression still vivid in your memory and terrorizing you, you were afraid that you might never see her again after that.

that was pure dramatization, however.

the only thing that occupied the deafening silence of the room was the muffled sound of julie sniffling and being on the phone with who you assumed to be that boy, already planning to meet up. then, you could’ve sworn you heard the name “eric?” being pronounced as it progressively faded in the distance as she walked away, basically confirming your theory. 

that’s all that filled your house and your clouded mind.

that, and the sound of your pathetic sobbing.

[speaknow-sw]

𝓘𝓵𝓵𝓲𝓬𝓲𝓽 𝓐𝒇𝒇𝓪𝓲𝓻

HEADCANONS FORM! Summary : in which you move in your new house in front of a very hot, very dad and very married man. But Anakin Skywalker is a gentle and caring neighbor. Gardenias appear in your garden and you befriended his wife. Soon enough you fit in this neighborhood though a little crush linger…

Ｃｏｎｔｅｎｔ: mdni, dad! Anakin Skywalker, older married man, reader is 25 and Anakin’s 33, mentions of vaginal fingering, pining, cheating ?

AN : GUYS FIRST WORK !!! Okay actually very stressed to post this but I’m sure you’ll be indulgent. Please ? It’s just a part 1 tho idk when I’ll post part 2. Again I’m not fluent in English but please feel free to correct any error. The real stuff happens in part 2 cuz it’s just a plot installation. Hope y’all like my silly little idea.

You and Anakin met when you moved across the street. As a gentleman, he welcomed you and helped with all your boxes. One look and you both knew you were spiraling down an unforgivable path. 

« Excuse me Miss. Do you need help ? » Anakin asked gently. 

« Oh yes, thank you so much » you replied, blushing.

« Just moved in ? It’s a nice neighborhood. The name’s Anakin Skywalker. I live just across the street. » he pointed the white house with blue shutters in front of yours. 

« Well, yes I’m moving in. I hope we’ll become good neighbors. » you smiled  brightly. 

« Don’t doubt it. You seem a lot nicer than old Palps who lived here before you, » he laughed placing a boxes on your counter. « He died of cardiac arrest in his daughter’s house. But around here we say he died strangled in his bitterness. » he joked.

« Seems like a lovely man. » you chuckled.

When he finished helping you he invited you over at his house where you met his lovely…wife, Padmé. As you talked with them a pair of toddlers ran down the stairs. Anakin presented them as Luke and Leia his kids. Adorable, you thought. 

After that first day you crossed Anakin path a numerous time. Every morning you would leave for work around the same time giving each other a light « Hello » and a meaningful gaz, like electricity sparkling between you.

After some months like this, you strangely begun to see gardenias appearing in the back of your garden. 

Sundays barbecue were a common gathering for your neighborhood. Mr. Kenobi, the barbecue king for the five previous years hosting every one of them. Him and his wife Satine were the sweetest people you’ve ever met. Like a good neighbor you attented every barbecues and gained a little group of friends consisting of Padmé, Satine and Breha Organa, the mayor wife’s. 

You couldn’t help but stare at Anakin back as he was talking with the other dads. His broad shoulders draped in an olive t-shirt and his nice butt constricted in a cream pant. Ovulation cravings were getting out of hands. God…this man sense of fashion could kill you on the spot with how effortlessly handsome he was. A married man, older than you, with kids…but so sweet and manly… Only when you turned to help Breha you missed Anakin gazing at you from afar. 

Soon enough, Satine ran out of sodas for the kids. The Skywalker twins, Elledi and Fiari Organa, Cal Kenobi and many more kids were running in the gardens like crazy little gremlins. Tired of hearing their little voices complaining about having a glass of Fanta you took the matter in your hands and said you could go to the store. Suddenly a voice echoed.

« I got packs of Fanta in the closet at home. » proposed softly Anakin. 

« Wonderful, my dear why won’t you accompany Anakin in his house to retrieve the sodas instead of taking the car ? » said a cheerful Satine. 

« Oh…hm…yes, yes I can do that… » you stuttered a bit shy. 

« You’re coming ? » Anakin called, his keys tingling gently in his right hand.

Your gaze fixated on his veiny hands and his long fingers. Your mind went wild with how good his fingers would be buried inside your clenching pussy. Maybe they could even reach that little area deep into you where you see stars. Your arousal grew and soon you felt your cunt being wetter than ten minutes ago. Fantasizing about him as you walked behind him silently, you didn’t saw he stopped in front of you and crashed against his back. 

« Hey, hey, hey, I gotcha. » you heard before feeling strong arms wrapping against your stumbling form. You blinked at him shocked by the whole situation directly from a bad Christmas rom-com. 

« You okay, kid ? » asked Anakin his beautiful face ruined by a frown. 

« Uh…yeah, m’great thanks to you… » you muttered as you felt heat crawling on your cheeks. 

« Alright, here, the sodas are in this closet. » he pointed an open door under his stairs. You nodded looking right in his eyes as your breath hitched. Your gaze lowered at your joined chest as your breasts were pressed against his muscular pecs with how tight he was holding you. You felt his breath on your forehead and raised your head to look at him not without checking his lips. His hold on you tightened slightly and you flushed. 

You darted your eyes around the house unable to held the eye contact and as you wandered through the furniture of the closet your eyes widened.

On the shelf beside a toolbox was placed a white gardenia similar at the ones which appeared on your gardens…

To be continued….

[anakinskywalker97]

Rise of Skywalker

Darth Vader x Ex-Padawan Reader

Chapter Two: Finding Obi-Wan

Chapter One

Summary: You take Anakin to Tatooine to find his old master in hopes of settling off in a new direction.

Warnings: this is all fluff / hurt/comfort. No smut, idk how but I kinda made a plot for this story, so I guess this is a bit of a slow-burn for the next bit.

So he made the choice to follow you. 

This was easier said than done. You would not let him wear the suit. You fought with him and he surrendered. He wore some cotton robes he had stashed away. He hated how they reminded him of his time with the Jedi, but being able to move properly was a welcomed trade-off. 

You granted him the request of bandaging his face before he followed you out into the unknown. He left his chambers for the last time, your hand intertwined with his pulling him along. 

Getting into a fighter felt good, sitting in the cockpit next to you was even better. 

“Where are we going.” You asked him looking at the different controls. 

“My father -” Vader realized his mistaken words a moment too late. They had already left his mouth, you gave a nod and punched in coordinates for Tatooine. All of your decisions were one with the force, that's why you always landed on your feet, so he didn't correct you. When he said father, he meant Palpatine. But rushing the Sith lord looking like a mummy with his old padawan didn't seem smart. 

Going to Tatooine seemed unbelievably painful, but seeing his mother's grave would be nice. He had a lot to say to her. He wondered why you assumed that his father would be there. You knew his story better than most. Maybe some grand force connection point would be there and someone would finally tell him what to do with this stupid prophecy. 

He knew that the emperor had sent him into deep space to have a break from him after his inability to locate the rebel base. Palpatine was working on something that required a lot of concentration. Sure he might have noticed Vader’s change within the force but he doubted it. Looking at things from this position next to you he realized how stupid he had been. How pointless his role was after he had helped kill off the Jedi. 

He had lots to think about, the ship had switched to autopilot and he observed you pull out a paperback. You folded your legs up onto the seat and he remembered all the times you had done this next to him. He rested in your familiar presence. Only then could he feel how deeply attuned you were within the force. It was like looking into a star when he closed his eyes and felt its presence around you. 

���You didn’t fight me yesterday.” He asked wanting to know why you had seemed so weak and disconnected the night before. 

“I didn’t get the chance.” You mumbled absently. Back when you had been his Padawan you once threw a filing cabinet across a meeting room in a fit of rage and that was an accident. He’d seen just how far your reach was in battle and it was much farther than the Grand Masters that trained you. Reaching across the room to your lightsaber should have been a piece of cake, especially if you were under threat. 

“You seemed weak within the force.” He stated watching you carefully.

“My master told me to leave that life behind. That’s what I did.” You answered honestly, there was a deep bitterness in your chest. A wound he had left, one he had no salve to fix. 

“I’m sorry.” He said not sure what he was apologizing for this time. 

“I know.” You said simply. “It's not gone, within me. It's always around me, it's just pulls me along these days. Up until yesterday anytime I tried to use it, I don't know how to describe it. It felt like rejection. In some ways I wonder if it was keeping me hidden or something.” 

The rest of the time passed as he asked you questions about your life. You were a smuggler, you had an apartment on Yavin 4. You didn't work with the rebels but occasionally piloted for them if you thought they had a good cause. You lived alone. You ran runs alone but occasionally, you smiled, you did runs with a friend. Jealousy burned through him. He was happy you had a mostly danger-free life compared to what it was during the Clone Wars when he had trained you. It was however very lonely. 

Tatooine was it’s usual hellscape. It was nice to have one thing that managed to be consistent throughout his life. He let you land and choose what direction they went in. Observing you choices carefully but feeling no resistance from the force. They traveled through the mountainous rocks and felt no threat from Sand People. 

When you got to what appeared to be a house carved into one of the rocks. He was about to correct you, and tell you that this wasn't his childhood home when a presence moved within the dwelling. It was too weak to determine its owner. When the door opened a familiar face took him in. Would he even recognize him? He looked like a mummy next to you. 

But unarmed and hands open Obi-Wan walked toward him. He said nothing embracing Vader in a hug. For a moment he thought about killing Obi-Wan as it had been a personal mission for so long. Obi-Wan was impossibly calm, his peace radiated through his body around Vader. He used to find this so unbearably annoying, and now for the first time, he welcomed it. Obi-Wan didn’t have anything to hold over Vader, he just accepted him as is. It felt like a big burden was lifted from his shoulders. 

 Vader finally caved and wrapped his arms around his former master. Finally able to accept him for who Obi-Wan was. They were two sides of a coin, mirrored opposites.  He watched you closely as you abandoned him and went into the house. He felt weird being alone with Obi-Wan but he was happy that your skin was out of the harsh sunlight. Obi-Wan released him and looked into his eyes. He knew they were still an awful red, but he also wasn't sure what side of things would be his final outcome. Things needed to be balanced. 

Obi-Wan motioned for him to sit on a large rock. What happened next was surprising. 

“I’m sorry. I was blinded, I only realized this after communication with Qui-gon.” Obi-Wan said softly, then filled Anakin in on the force ghost concept. “I failed both of you. You were my responsibility, my brother. I should have never left you alone with anyone, especially not a politician.” 

“I made my choice,” He said firmly frustrated by the man's guilt, he much preferred the master who was above it all. Not the man, the brother he had left behind. 

“The choice you were groomed into,” Obi-Wan said with a finality to his voice that reminded him of many past arguments. This one he was happy to lose. 

“You need to come inside, out of the sun,” Obi-Wan said hurriedly finally taking in his bandaged appearance. Vader sat uncomfortably next to you at Obi-Wan's table. He listened as they discussed his medical needs, all the advanced procedures. His skin, his lungs, if he would even need a new suit. They decided going to Yavin 4 would be best as they had the best medical and your apartment was there. He perked up at the idea of seeing more of your life, how you lived. He trusted you to know about the medical side of things, that was always an area of special interest for you. His power was still unmatched and the rebel base was little threat to him and by extension you. 

“The climate there will be easier on your skin, I have no doubt we will find a good solution there,” Obi-Wan said before getting up to grab some drinks. 

Then he was sitting there listening to all the rebel plans and current politics. He was at a table with the man he needed to kill while being handed everything he needed to destroy the rebels. Both you and Obi-Wan were out of practice, it wouldn't be a challenge for him to kill both of you and give all this over to his master. 

He thought of the power. Then he heard you let out a loud laugh. His attention moved to you as you ran over to the window sill. 

“No don’t engage with it.” Obi-Wan scolded as you picked up a sand cat. They were normally rude but not necessarily dangerous, he had never seen one this affectionate though. He was waiting for it to attack you. “Take it outside.” 

“But he’s so cute.” You said enjoying the way it nuzzled against your chest. Eventually, you took it out to the front door and watched as it hurried away. You paused at the door for a moment looking at the sunset. He thought of killing you one last time and knew that he would be unsuccessful. You looked at the sun from the doorway the same way he had observed his mother doing countless times. There was a lot to you, he had trained you to be a ruthless fighter, dangerously independent, all things you already had in you. But there was also the softness he felt only fell on his eyes, parts of you he selfishly wanted all to himself. You were beyond kind and caring, a nobility about you he knew he would not be able to sway. Those parts of you were the closest thing he could compare his mother's love to. She had been beaten down badly by the world and yet helped everyone and somehow always had enough left over for him. 

You came right back to his side and rested against his shoulder. You were totally relaxed. You knew that he wouldn't betray you, but why?

Because you never wanted to in the first place - Your voice rang in his head and shame gripped him. He had to be more careful with his thoughts. They force bond between the two of you had tripled compared to how it used to be. 

Don't shy away from me now. I like the way you look at me -  you gave him a look that ended the night. 

“‘Dinner and bed,” Obi-Wan announced before moving into the kitchen. 

They made a nest out of cushions and blankets in the living space, the two of you could have stayed on the ship but he could sense how badly you wanted to stay in the house. Sleeping away from you was not an option for him so he didn't suggest it. After a lot of insisting on who would take the bed, you finally convinced Obi-Wan to stay in his room. 

Vader eyed the mash of pillows and blankets suspiciously, would you want to share a bed with him again? Maybe you would prefer it if he slept on the ship. Then he realized how stupid he was being, the chances of him actually sleeping were extremely low. Tatooine held too many painful memories for him to risk sleeping. They would drown him. He would sit here and watch over you while you slept. 

It will be easier if you lay down first - You gave him a confused look as if it was obvious. He was about to argue with you when he realized you might see his inability to sleep as a form of rejection. He could sit here all night, or he could hold you. It was an easy choice. 

He got down on the floor slowly and was surprised that it wasn't so painful. He tried to move over so you would have enough space. When you pulled his arm away from his side you gave him a look.

Is this not alright? - you cocked your head to the side. He opened his arms in response and felt you press against him with your head on his shoulder. - Wait does this hurt? 

No- he responded feeling more at home than he ever had under Palpatine's control or at the Temple. He felt like he was home. Obi-Wan’s strong force presence gave him a sense of comfort. He could catch you probing his mind now, and you sighed enjoying the same feeling. Happy the two of you were in alignment.

You see Obi-Wan as my father? - He asked softly.

No, it's just easier to see Qui-Gon when he is around - you answered sleepily. He had a million questions but wouldn't press you now when you needed rest.

That night he didn’t wake up to check your breathing, he was in a deep sleep trusting the two of you to be there in the morning. This was the first night he had really slept since he had sent you away all those years ago.

[peakdeer]

im sending this ask because i wanna share this concept I had and I'm too shy to post it on main but lowkey shipping wcsmp! cleo and prisamarina as rivals/enemies to lover T-T Idk I view wcsmp! pris as this deceptive seemingly sweet but manipulative person and cleos the only one who knows her true nature and is weary of her and hhhh idk cat and mouse game ensues and eventually pris catches on that cleo knows whats shes up and idk tension go brrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr and they're intrigued by each other and hhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh. anyways feel free to write something if you want. i just wanted to share this with someone

Cleo disliked the Water Witch.

The way she twisted her words until they had a totally different meaning, the way she thought herself as so much better than all the other witches, the way she dragged everyone under her spell with promises and lies.

Cleo didn’t see the point in lying. In her years of being a witch—she’d long lost count—she’d never known one to stay hidden. They were always revealed for what they were, ugly and hurtful and so much worse than they had begun.

The Water Witch was like that. Sweet in appearance but nasty in nature. Like a clear pool full of sickness and disease. It looks perfect and tastes syrupy sweet, but turns bitter in your throat and spreads plague through your city.

The Water Witch seemed to have fun poisoning others. Drawing them in on her words and lies, twisting the truth until it seemed false, making alliances and already planning to break them. So many were under her spell—so many thought she was exactly as she seemed—so many were foolish.

But Cleo was not. Cleo, in her lifetimes and lifetimes of experience, knew better.

She knew what the Water Witch—what Prismarina was.

“Water Witch. Hello. What brings you here?” Cleo’s tone was ice cold and suspicious. She didn’t know why the Water Wi—why Prismarina was here, and she didn’t trust it.

“I thought I’d offer you one of those spell tomes! I found one that fit you, and I thought you’d like it as a gift,” Prismarina explained with her sickeningly sweet tone, the one that sounded so deceitful it almost made Cleo throw up.

“Oh! Fantastic, lovely. That’s… helpful. I appreciate it. Let me get something to trade for it,” Cleo agreed loftily, trying hard to keep her voice neutral. She didn’t trust Pris, but it wasn’t wise to antagonize her.

“Oh, you don’t need to pay for it! It’s just a friendly gesture, one witch to another.” Pris used her extra-sweet and extra-innocent voice, the one that said I’m just a small little witch! You can trust me. I will won’t stab you in the back!

Cleo didn’t trust it one bit.

“No, I insist.” Cleo’s tone was sharp, leaving no room for argument. She didn’t trust the Water Witch to not come back and use the gift as a receipt to get something out of her—something to give her the higher ground. She didn’t trust the Water Witch to do something out of the goodness of her heart—she knew that the Water Witch could be cruel; she could be more bitter than she could be sweet.

A flash caught her eye, and she was the Water Witch’s expression twist into an angry snarl, something furious and ghastly and not quite right. Something totally different than the front she usually used.

She knew. And the Water Witch knew she knew.

She knew. And Pris knew she knew.

And Cleo wasn’t sure if they were the same, or if they were different, or if she cared, or why she cared.

It was dangerous, it was. They say time flows like a river—fast and deadly and disorienting. Cleo knew she was. Cleo also knew that Pris—the Water Witch—she—was the same. But it drew her in anyway, the sweet words alluring despite being false, and the hand soft despite ready to stab her in the back.

If she had to be honest, that made it more tempting.

The Water Witch showed up more often, now. She never left without a threat, of course, but Cleo could see her in the corner of her vision, watching her. Cleo wondered if she thought of Cleo the same way Cleo thought of her.

Cleo liked the Water Witch. She was intriguing. Perhaps one day this aspect would make her dislike the Water Witch, but for now, it was just that.

Intriguing.

[shentheauthor]

I know I already asked for a harbinger headcanon srry :< But I gotta know what would happened if you mixed Cookie Run and the Harbingers sksksksk. You don’t have to make it ofc! Whether it’s them playing the game or being a cookie or even not making the headcanon is totally up to you! I just gotta say I rlly like your work!

Hey dw about requesting multiple times, I’m happy to do these!

I kinda feel like cookie-ifying them, so here we go

Pierro:

Ok so we don’t know much about Khaenri’ahn food

But I think flowers suit him well

I’d make him a petunia cookie

Why? Well, petunias once symbolized anger and resentment

So like how he feels about Celestia and the archons

Nowadays some of the meaning has been lost, but I think that works with how Teyvat has moved on on the surface

However, there’s still a lasting effect from the tragedy

He also wouldn’t go by petunia cookie, since that’s not super intimidating

So I’m gonna give him “jester cookie”

He would definitely take some bitter amusement in the irony

Capitano:

Another flower guy

I’m giving him poppies, since those are traditionally used to remember fallen soldiers

He also wouldn’t go by his ingredient name, bc poppies aren’t very intimidating

So he would be something like “captain cookie” or “warrior cookie”

He has definitely lost soldiers on the battlefield, so I think poppies are fitting

Maybe he even lost some of himself on the battlefield too…

Since most of his appearance is hidden, you wouldn’t be able to tell poppies are his ingredient

But if I were to design his cookie clothes, I would place poppies on his uniform

Hm maybe I will design them all

Dottore:

Biryani cookie

Why? I feel like he would like the food, next question

God I want biryani

Anyway! I think the fact that you can add different ingredients to biryani fits him well

So like prime can be kolkata biryani, one of the clones can be sindhi biryani, etc etc

Idk it just suits him

He would go by smth like heretic cookie, doctor cookie, or even his actual name

It depends on the segment

The segments would also have ingredient substitutions to emphasize the “wrong” nature of them

Plus mechanical parts

Columbina:

So she’s a mystery for sure

But I would call her “seelie cookie”

Nobody knows her ingredients

But some believe she was baked from food directly made in the Teyvat equivalent of the fae wilds

I’m a big fan of fae/seelie columbina

Some wonder if she’s even a cookie at all

Personally, I think she would be a sugar cookie made from special or magical sugar, or even a very light cake, like chiffon

Regardless, she isn’t a normal cookie

I think she and angel cookie would get along lmao

Arlecchino:

Oof she’s another hard one, since we don’t know much about her

Gonna call her ice shard cookie

She’s a sharp and stern character, so she would be made of something harsh

Like the cold bite of winter

No she is not anything like the Tsaritsa

But she is still a force to be reckoned with

She would actually go by her ingredient name, bc fuck code names

If she must, she would be called “knave cookie”

She’s one of the few I actually have ideas for their skill so

She would use an icicle as a fencing sword

Similar to raspberry cookie, but I feel like arle would be an ambush and target the opponent with the least amount of HP

Maybe do some aoe frost damage

Pulcinella:

He’s a hard one, but kasha cookie

Kasha is a healthy, hearty grain dish, like oatmeal, but even more grain

If that makes sense

Partially bc it’s a health food for older people (sorry nella /lh)

But also partially because it’s sturdy and stable

Idk it just makes sense to me since he’s a government official that seems to do his job well

I just felt it calling to me

This is what happens when you do too much research for fanfics lmao, you remember foods you have never once seen in your home country

He would go by kasha cookie. No code name necessary, unless he truly must. As mayor, his name probably has to be public lmao

I love he

Scaramouche:

Puppet cookie

It’s basic, but like, he wouldn’t have been given another name before

He started out as puppet cookie, was called kabukimono cookie on tatarasuna, then became balladeer cookie

And now, he’s wanderer cookie

He wouldn’t be made with any normal ingredients, bc he’s entirely artificial

I feel like he would be made of wood and ingredient substitutions

Carved and molded into a perfect imitation of a cookie

Another one I actually have skill ideas for

As balladeer cookie, he would have lightning based attacks that just function as dps dmg

As wanderer cookie, he would have air based attacks that do less damage than balladeer, but also debuff enemies and buff allies

Sandrone:

French Sandy is my current religion so

Soufflé cookie

Her perfectionism just suits the food

She would go by “marionette cookie”

No ingredient substitutions here, but she would def still experiment on other cookies

Her attacks would involve puppet strings trapping opponents, dealing damage and debuffing them

Support cookie that can still pack a punch

Signora:

Bringing this back to flower town babyyyyy

Blood rose cookie

If you look up “blood rose flower,” you’ll see a beautiful dark red rose that gives gothic vibes

Honestly my reasoning lies in the name

Roses are romantic, but black roses represent revenge

So blood roses are somewhat a cross between the two

Do you see my vision

She would go by blood rose cookie before the Fatui, but after joining, she would be “fair lady cookie”

I have so many ideas for her design actually, I’m going insane

Pantalone:

Mora cookie /j

For real tho, he was born poor, so…

Millet cookie

Millet is a grain that’s great for protein and key fibers that you need

So an excellent food for someone who can’t access real well-rounded meals

The lower class of ancient China often used millet as a meal

Oh also I should mention that Liyue Pantalone is my other religion

Anyway tho, he would absolutely NOT go by millet cookie

He’d go by golden cookie, or regrator cookie

He would be embarrassed about his lowly origins, wanting to leave it behind

So millet cookie is OUT

Tartaglia:

Borscht cookie

Borscht is common, first of all

Second of all, it’s red, and ginger go brrr

Third of all, it can be served hot or cold, and I think that fits Childe’s personality well

Warm and welcoming around family

Cold and calculating around enemies

Imagine his blades being made out of soup lmao

He wouldn’t go by borscht cookie, since he doesn’t go by Ajax in canon

He would be called shashka cookie, after his weapons

Imagine being so badass you get to go by KNIFE /j

But Fr tho, the only ones who get to call him borscht cookie are his family

He would look so cute as a cookie, I love him

It honestly makes me really happy to get a request combining my two main fandoms. I want people to know that I will happily do headcanons for any of my fandoms, not just genshin. Hell I’ll do other characters besides harbingers too! Ik I made a bit of a name for myself with harbinger headcanons, but I would love to branch out!

[envy-of-the-apple]

can you write something with lucifer? honestly, im not sure what, the rest is up to you, i just really wanna read something with him nddjsj im sorry this is so vague have a wonderful day

kk ive been watching a lot of paranormal things lately and apparently, in order for malevolent entities to take you, they have to be given permission. thats just so creepy and luci would just be perfect for this fjdhlsfjdslfjds so ya enjoy.

(Yandere, obsession, manipulation(maybe, i think?), scary dream shit idk what to tag this with honestly, possession) 

When you were younger, you were enamored with the idea of lucid dreaming. 

A world in your mind, in which you had complete control over. A place where you could do anything, be anything.  

You were never able to master it, no matter how hard you tried. By the time you realized you were even dreaming you’d wake up in quiet frustration. It was infuriating, but pointless enough to flit away as you grew older. Over time, you forgot you had even tried. 

But these days, the dreams you’ve been having were fairly....lucid. 

The trees were fake. The grass wasn’t alive. The animals you’d see once or twice were all in your head. Nothing was real. 

Even that man. 

He introduced himself as Lucifer. The devil. You supposed your subconscious wasn’t very good at making demons. He always looks so beautiful, an ethereal man that moves and talks and smiles and laughs so prettily. He resembles someone fit for gliding over celestial skies, rather than a creature of the night. 

“Do you like it?” 

The cup is still raised to your lips. You hum, too indulged in the tea to actually give an answer. It’s sweet, with the slightest hint of being bitter. 

“It’s good,” You finally say, “Is it a favorite of yours?” 

Lucifer sits across from you, swathed in black. You often wondered if he ever got hot wearing that, especially-here- in the sunny grassy plain your mind had concocted. You never had the courage to actually voice it, too scared that complex questions like that might break this world. 

“It’s close to becoming one,” He smiles, “Lord Diavolo brought this with him from his trip to the celestial realm. I thought you would appreciate it.” 

You nodded. You learned very quickly not to pry into terms such as the ‘Celestial Realm’. It hit a sore spot for him, made the wind blow a little harsher, the skies grow a little darker. 

Instead you placed your cup down, spreading your arms on the picnic table. 

“Is he still giving you a hard time? Lord Diavolo, that is.” Your lips curve into a sympathetic frown. 

He gives a sigh, looking much more exhausted. He’s so beautiful. They say the subconscious can’t make new faces, so it pulls faces from people you’ve already seen before. You wonder where you’ve seen this man before. 

“I wouldn’t necessarily call it that,” He says, “He means well, he truly does, but he’s too impulsive. Always wandering to the next thing too quickly.” 

You try to imagine it. Lucifer surrounded by stacks of papers, each with dangerously close deadlines. 

“I’m guessing that’s why he chose you then,” You say thoughtfully, “He trusts you to keep him focused. You’re his partner.” 

“Partner,” He breathes, like he thinks he’s undeserving of even uttering the word. 

“And,” You add in a much more joking tone, “He gives you a warm up before you have to deal with your brothers.” 

That gets a laugh out of him. It’s short, but genuine. 

“Speaking of, what have they done recently?” You ask, “Anything exciting?” 

“Not one day passes without our home being torn apart by their shenanigans,” He says, more out of defeat than anything else, “Though, lately, they’ve been much...quieter. It’s a bit unnerving.” 

Diavolo, his brothers, you know more about Lucifer than people who you’ve known for years. He’s so transparent with his issues, bringing them forth even when you don’t have a clear answer. Most times, however, you don’t think he’s looking for a solution. Je just wants someone to just sit and listen to him vent. As always, you’re more than happy to comply. It wasn’t like there was much else to do in this world. 

“I might just string Mammon up on the ceiling. Just as a precaution.” 

You laugh at that, “You know, sometimes, I feel like you enjoy torturing your brothers, especially Mammon.” 

“Was it too obvious?” He asks, and you laugh again. 

“It’s a little admirable, though. The lengths you’d go to in order to protect your brothers. You really love them, hm?” 

He hesitates, turning his head away in a rare display of embarrassment. 

“I...I have no choice but to care for them,” He sighs, “Despite the centuries they’ve lived, they still act like children, creating a ruckus all over Devildom.” 

You hum. The silence between you two grows, as you ponder over what Lucifer said. It feels nice. Good. It’s probably why you slip a little, say something you should have hid from Lucifer. A truth. 

“I think I’d like to meet them one day.” 

He doesn’t respond. Not immediately. You hear the rustle of heavy clothes as he shifts.  

“Meet them? Am I not enough?” 

It’s phrased as a joke, and you think he wants you to believe its one too. You almost smile, but the words are too harsh, a thin veil that’s covering something festering. 

“No, of course not,” You quickly say, “I just...well, you talk about them a lot. It’s not a crime to be at least a little curious, right?” 

“It’s not,” He replies, reeling himself back in, “It’s not, but, my brothers...they aren’t harmless. They’re demons, monstrous. A little human like you wouldn’t fare well with them.” 

“Yes, but-” 

“You’re helpless against them. They’ll use you as a toy. They’ll break you, treat you as something they own. When they don’t.” He’s hissing, low and sharp. Gloved fingers dig into the armrest, close to splintering them. 

You don’t know what to say, you don’t know how to even respond. It’s not the first time Lucifer’s lashed out, but he’s never been so vindictive, possessive. 

As if even the thought of you interacting with another being is infuriating. 

“It’s getting late,” You finally say, “I should probably get going.” 

Despite it never spoken, you know he’s aware of your words being a code, what you always speak whenever you wanted to get to your own world. Pouting is normal, as well as small bribes to make you stay. You don’t expect him to shift forward, putting his weight into his elbows. The smile on his face is back, but it’s colder. Crueler. 

“Oh? But you just got here. I can’t have you leaving so soon.” 

You watch him cross his legs, and suddenly the air feels heavy, like it’s pushing you to stay seated. Your fingers, grip the sides of your seat, trying to move but finding no strength. The aura suddenly changed, the once peaceful meadow was still bright, still airy, but it felt like a cage, trapping you with something inhuman. For the first time since you’ve had these dreams, your sense of control has vanished. 

Like it was never in your hands to begin with. 

You shake the thoughts away, finally managing to regain control of your racing mind. 

“I understand. But I need to go now.” 

The world begins to tilt.

“I’m glad you’re here,” He says, leaning back, “You’ve always been so easy to talk to. I think that’s why I’ve grown so attached to you.” 

Your face feels so heavy, your eyes are struggling to open. Everything suddenly seemed much....darker. 

“Attached...?” 

Your voice sounds so far away, like you’re underwater. You’re trying to blink away the sudden fog in your head. 

“I think I...want to keep you.” 

What? You’re dizzy and his last words float away as you try your best to keep your balance. He’s there right beside you, catching your face in his hands. You dazingly look into his eyes. Red. He looks different. You can’t focus on anything right now, but there’s something floating behind him. Feathers. Black. 

His lips are soft, just barely brushing your cheek. You feel him smile. 

“May I come in?” 

Your mouth begins to open-

You wake up drenched in sweat. Your sheets have twisted, turning to resemble snakes, restraining your body. You’re quick to kick them off, finally managing to sit up. Your breathing is heavy, labored, like you can’t believe you’re still alive. 

It takes a moment for your heart to stop racing, a second for you to realize you’re no longer in that too-perfect meadow. When you finally get your bearings, you’re laughing, more out of relief than any real mirth. 

Your room is still dark, but the shadows are waning, washing away with the dawn slowly creeping through your window. You’re half-tempted to yank the shutters open, just so the darkness can burn away even faster. 

But you don’t, you barely even feel like you can move. The fear is still there, still thumping away in your heart. You put a hand on your chest, feeling it beat faster and faster. 

“It was just a nightmare,” Your voice is quiet, like you’re too scared someone will hear, someone might prove you wrong, “Just a nightmare.” 

May I come in, he had asked. 

You gave an answer. 

You just can’t remember what you said.

[pigeonp0st]

Hi I love your fics!❤️

Can I request a WandaxReader where Wanda is still new to the Avengers and so people are still pretty afraid and a little hostile towards her but Reader(a trainee or whatever) is one of the few people who aren’t scared of Wanda and the two end up getting close. Idk if that’s too much or not 😅🤷🏽

Wanda Maximoff x Reader #1

Words: 1,561

Warnings: Food, burn

Notes:

Thank you <3 and thanks for my first Wanda ask! I hope you enjoy. Sorry for all spelling/grammar mistakes ;)

(Imma head to bed now...if I can anyways. I’m super hyper for some reason)

———

There’s a new girl walking around the tower when you come back from your mission. You have to ask Tony to explain everything to you so you can understand why.

Apparently she was their enemy...and then their partner, and now a new avenger. You’re happy to have someone else on the team but everyone else seems...skeptical of her.

They get silent when she walks into a room. They don’t make much of an effort to talk to her, and they’re just all around...petty.

The new girl doesn’t seem to mind though. She just sits still and looks like she’d rather be anywhere else with her eyes darting around the room.

—-

Steve confronts you the day after you try to talk to Wanda during dinner. He warns you that she’s dangerous, and that he doesn’t trust her yet. He says not to become too close to her. The rest of the Avengers agree with him.

You just stare at them in mild disbelief. “Steve,” you tell him, incredibly disappointed in him, and the rest of the avengers, “she has lost everything. She looks lonely and depressed most of the time...how could you—how could you find evil in that?”

Him and the rest of the avengers don’t try and stop you from talking to her after that.

—-

“Train with me, Wanda.”

Wanda looks up from the book she’s been studying with narrowed eyes. “What?”

You grin at her cheekily and hold out a hand, “I wanna kick your ass. You can use your powers.”

Her eyebrow quirks then, surprised and apprehensive, and rightfully so. No one else even considers training with her. “I knew everyone here disliked me but I didn’t think they’d want to…’kick my ass’”

Your eyes widen comically. “I—what—no, no, no, I don’t want to—it’s an expression Wanda I swear, god, of course I don’t want to—I mean I do, but like in a friendly way—”

This, this moment right here is the first time you see her smile. It’s the first time you stop and notice how beautiful Wanda is. It’s the first time making someone else’s smile fills you with such a great sense of accomplishment.

It leaves you unexplainably breathless for a moment.

“I was kidding,” Wanda informs you, taking a hold of your hand and shaking it to seal the deal. It’s the first time you two touch. “I’m going to be the one kicking your ass, Y/N.”

She knows your name. Wanda knows your name. “I’d like to see you try.”

———

Wanda does end up kicking your ass, but she does it gently...if that’s possible. You challenge her again and again after that, only to end up losing each time.

Wanda keeps accepting, even though she looks more and more hesitant each time you ask, like she thinks that maybe this time will be the moment you realize she isn’t worth it. That she’s a monster.

You don’t. You don’t get bitter like she imagined either. You just get up each time with playfulness and a tiny bit of awe and fight again, but you never look at her with fear.

To Wanda, this moment means more than you will ever know. To Wanda, this is the moment she realizes that she wants to keep spending time with you, and that maybe this place won’t be that bad. Maybe she doesn’t have to be miserable any more.

To you, this is where you decide to keep surprising Wanda. Each time you get up again, each time you laugh, every compliment you give to her powers, she lights up just that bit more. You want to be someone Wanda can enjoy.

——

It’s about the fifteenth ass kicking that you decide, breathlessly, that you two try to fight without Wanda using her powers.

Wanda agrees cockily, which is why it’s such a surprise when you manage to knock her flat after the first five seconds.

You laugh loudly at her pout, so hard that your body shakes with it, but you manage to get out, between fits of laughter; “why the fuck were you so confident?”

Wanda rolls her eyes at you and kicks your feet out from under you but you couldn’t care less. You’re too busy laughing, and she joins in after a moment.

When the two of you calm down you turn your head to look at her. Her cheeks are flushed from laughing, and her hair is messy on the ground, but to you; she has never looked more beautiful. She has never looked so happy.

“I’ll train you,” you promise her, offering a smile that’s gentler than you intended.

Wanda nods, suddenly sheepish. “And i’ll train you.”

You remind her softly that you can’t use powers like her, but she smirks at you deviously like she’s already very much aware.

“I was not talking about your fighting skills,” Wanda huffs. “I tried one of the cookies you made the other day...and let’s just say they were not very good.”

The glare you send her way isn’t like the ones the avengers have been giving her—it’s completely playful. “I doubt that you’re baking skills are much better.”

“You will see.”

—-

Wanda is awful at baking you learn. The lesson she tried to give you ended with the kitchen almost burned down and the entire avenger squad rushing into the smoke filled kitchen.

What they come to see is Wanda, covered in flour, glaring at black bundles of ash that were meant to be cookies, and you doubled over in laughter in no less of a state of messiness.

Wanda swats at the back of your head, not noticing the avengers, and you try to hug her consoling despite your laughter.

Thus, the avengers realize with no small amount of amusement, that maybe Wanda can be trusted.

No villain can look that upset over burnt cookies, and no villain can look at someone with that amount of softness.

—-

The avengers warm up to Wanda quickly once they actually start talking to her, but she always clearly prefers to spend her training with you, and she never stops your baking session, even despite how awfully they always go.

You’ve also developed... feelings... for Wanda. It must be obvious to the rest of the avengers but it doesn’t seem to be as obvious to Wanda herself.

At least, you don’t think it is. You don’t think she likes you like that anyways...

Well, not until about your tenth baking lesson with her.

—

She’s grinning at you with the amount of joy you’ve finally become accustomed to seeing on her, and holding out (with her adorable mittens) the first set of non-burnt cookies that you two have ever made.

She looks so accomplished and so smug that you can’t help it. You kiss her. Right there in the compounds kitchen, with flour all around, and sugar in your hairs.

You kiss her and she kisses you back, tasting like your favorite dinner, and hot chocolate on a winter day. Kissing her is like coming home after a long day out, kissing her is like coming up for air after being underwater for much too long, kissing her is like—

“Ow!” You yell, pulling away abruptly and looking down at the red burn mark on your hand.

Wanda stands there blinking for a couple of moments, first at your lips, then at your burn mark, and then at the still hot ban still in her grasp.

When she’s able to snap out of her daze she sets the pan down and hugs you, with your burned hand between your bodies. “Sorry,” Wanda whispers.

“It wasn’t your fault.” It wasn’t. You were just too overwhelmed kissing her to remember the pan she was holding. Speaking of… “would you like—to you know...do that again sometime?”

Wanda releases you from her hug to give you an amused smile. “I’ll do you one better,” she says, cupping your cheek. “Be my girlfriend?”

You certainly weren’t expecting that. “Shouldn’t we at least go on a date first?”

Wanda tilts her head, confused and hesitant. “Haven’t we gone on ten now?”

You gape at her, bewildered. “I—um...I didn’t know...you know what, never mind. Let’s just...you’re my girlfriend now. Okay?”

This was not how you were expecting your day to go, but you're not even close to disappointed because Wanda gives you a beaming smile and nods her head repeatedly before drawing you back in for another kiss.

She pulls away after a moment. “I know they weren’t dates, but they might as well have been now, right?”

You wonder if everything you say to each other is going to be a question, and whether or not she’s doing this on purpose.

“Right.”

“Cool.”

“Cool,” you agree, rolling your eyes playfully. “Wanna treat my hand for me now that this is all settled, and since you're the one who burned me?”

“You said that wasn’t my fault!” Wanda huffs.

“Yes, well now that I want something from you it is.”

“Ah, I see. That’s how it works.”

“Yep.”

“Cool.”

“Cool.”

You flick her gently between the brows with your non-injured hand. “Stop it.”

Wanda smirks. “Or what, you’ll fight me about it? Do you think it’ll be your first win?”

“Dickhead.”

“Very professional, Y/N. Very professional.”

[felswritingfire]

April Brain Rot #8

89. Volcanic

36. "Need a ride?"

16. “I’m overreacting? Sweetheart, if anything I’m going easy on you.”

Divus Crewel x Professor!Reader

Summery: Divus gets a little ahead of himself and you two get into a whole ass fight.

TW: Fighting; Yelling; Cursing; Accusations of cheating

Word count: 1,208

A note from Fel: Idk how well this turned out? I'm never sure about how well I can depict fights- so hopefully, it works tho. My gf said I did a good job so like, I'm living tbh- anyway. Enjoy!

“I should have never fucking said yes to dating you.”

You’re going to regret saying that to him later but, right now, red was threatening to cloud your vision the longer you stared at Divus.

He crossed his arms, raising a dark, perfect brow at you. “Really?” He drawls. “Maybe I regret asking out someone as… overdramatic as you.”

You knew he didn’t mean it, but it still stoked the coals that were already red hot in your stomach. “I’m overdramatic? You’re the one who’s overreacting about me and Sam-”

“I’m overreacting? Sweetheart, if anything I’m going easy on you.”

“‘Going easy on me’?” Lord help you- you were about to beat a man. “What in the fuck does that mean, Divus.”

“It just means that I should be acting a little- well, how do I put it?” He leans against the table behind him, crossing one leg over the other and tapping his chin with one of his fingers. You cross your arms, the coals steadily becoming a roaring flame. “Ah! I should be reacting a little worse when there’s a threat that my lovely partner is cheating on me with one of our coworkers.”

You feel something in you snap and suddenly you’re preciously loud- borderline on yelling- voice comes to an eerily calm tone. “Cheating? You think I’m cheating?”

“You tell me.”

The two of you stare at each other, until an ugly feeling mixes in with the anger. “You really think that? You think-” your voice warbles as you spit out your words- “that I’m that I’d do something like that?”

He pushed himself from the table, his mouth frowning in discomfort, but he didn’t say anything.

You sigh, digging through your coat pocket and pulling out a black box, throwing it at him with a bitter glare.

He fumbled with it (the most uncoordinated you had ever seen him) and stared at it. He looked at you with wide eyes. “What’s this?” He asked, a tremble in his words.

“Happy fucking birthday, asshole.” You turn on your heel and walk out the front door.

Divus winces at the deafening slam and suddenly everything was silent. He realized, somewhere in the back of his mind that he had never felt so alone. He shook his head forcing the frown back on his lips as he looked down at the black box. It’s probably nothing spectacular. He thinks, knowing he doesn’t mean it even in his mind. Probably wouldn’t even fit in my aesthetics- they never had an eye for fashion-

He feels his eyes sting as soon as he sees the little earrings: twin silver 1967 Chevy Camaros, in the center of the tiny rims of the tires sits even smaller diamonds. He shuts the box before running a hand through his hair; he knows he just messed up his hair- feels it in the way that the strands don’t sit right anymore on his head- but he can’t seem to care. The only thought racing in his head is you and how much of an ass he was (as loathe as he was to admit it).

Divus rushed to the bowl that held his car keys (you had gotten it for him when you saw the sheer amount of them strewned out on his countertops), grabbing a random one before almost tripping over his own feet to get to the garage.

************************************************************************

“Stupid Divus. Stupid weather-” you hiss as another sharp drop of rain pelted your head, pulling your coat closer to you to try warm yourself up despite it already being drenched with cold water.

You should have just told Divus what you were up to: that you were getting a present for him with the help of Sam (who, mind you, milked you for your paycheck, the little shit).

But you wanted him to be completely surprised, a stubborn part of you pipes up and you can’t help the flare of rage that continues to fan itself in the back of your mind. I wanted to get those stupid limited edition earings that he was looking at and if anyone had some it was Sam. Not my fault Divus doesn’t trust me.

You winced, shivering into your coat as the rain changed directions. You felt tired and cold- hurt, if you wanted to be frank. “Maybe I should just crash at the school- not like my boys are going to be going to classes tomorrow- it’s the weekend.” You smiled weakly at the thought of your trouble makers: Ace and Deuce- though, they were always sweet to you.

A familiar car rolls up next to you and you scowl, turning your head away. You hear the sound of a window rolling down. “Need a ride?” Divus asks.

“From you? No.”

“Darling, you look like a sopping wet dog, please come in?”

You turn your glare on him, coming to a stop on the sidewalk. “Woof. Woof.” You drawled out before you continue walking. Where? You have no idea. But you didn’t want to look at him.

He sits dumbfounded for a moment before shaking his head and continuing to inch along in his car to match your pace. “Darling- I- you know I don’t see you like that-”

“Than what? What do you see me as?” You stomp up to the car and lean down to scowl at him through the window. “Because obviously it’s not a trusted partner, Crewel.”

He winces at the use of his last name. “You are, I just-” he squeezed the steering wheel, catching his smooth lips between his teeth. You wait for an answer, somewhere in your mind swirls a wonder at how he hesitates with his words. “I recognize…” He takes a deep breath as he looks you in the eyes. “I recognize that Sam is an attractive man: charming, easy on the eyes, charismatic… He’s-” he gulps glancing away for a brief moment- “he’s not high maintenance like me.” You blink in surprise. “And I am also painfully aware of how long the two of you have known each other. He knows things about you that you have yet to share with me- if you will. It’s up to you, but still-”

“I’ve never thought you were high maintenance.” You look just as surprised as him when the words come out.

“You… don’t?”

You snort. “No, why would I be dating you if I thought that?”

He looks away but you can still see the way the tips of his ears warm to a soft pink. “Just get in. Please.”

You debate with yourself if you’re going to actually climb in when you decide against it. “Do you have a towel?”

“What?”

“A towel, silly man. I don’t want to ruin your seats- I’m sopping wet.”

“Doesn’t matter, I’m more worried about you getting a cold, Darling.”

You sigh before opening the door and sitting on the grey leather, you wince at the way your clothes stick to your skin.

Divus turns on the heat before he reaches over to hold your trembling hands. “I’m sorry.”

“I’m sorry too.”

You feel like, maybe you should say more, but the way he shakes his head and squeezes your hand makes you feel like everything’s alright.

<The Next Chosen Character>

Thank you for reading!

[greensaplinggrace]

honestly THANK YOU for saying all that abt baghra bc i thought i was going crazy from not liking her??? bc i haven't read the books and only summaries of them on wiki and like. i dunno why ppl like her actually even in the show bc this guy, her son, is like "i wanna make the world better for us grisha" and she's just like "no." even tho he sees that she's MAKING HERSELF SICK from suppressing her powers! she's literally like in bed coughing in the flashback yet seem much healthier at the little palace. also like after everything, after her disapproval, after the fold, after centuries of waiting for the sun summoner.. he never abandons her. he makes sure she's cares for. he doesn't harm her. and i have to wonder if baghra has ever thanks him for that, for just not leaving her alone. like i dunno how im suppose ro believe aleks is a heartless villain when he still cares for his abusive mom like this. like has baghra even told her she loved him (honestly she reminds me of a classic emotionally unavailable asian parent but maybe that's just me). also im wondering if baghra ever told aleks that he had an aunt.. bc like.. now that u bring up her isolating him it's like hmmmm...

not at me being like alina... why do u trust the bitter old woman who literally beats u with a stick and verbally abuses u every chance she gets.. just bc she showed a bad painting... like.. pls use two braincells to see that who u figured out as his mother... is also using his protection..

like baghra could've upped and left with alina. but no. she stayed bc she knew she was safe under aleks's protection.

alsoim just impressed that after his first friend tried to drown him and harvest his bones... he didn't go into hiding???? he still wanted to make a safe heaven for grisha!!! HE STILL WANTED TO PROTECT GRISHA EVEN AFTER HIS GRISHA FRIEND TRIED TO KILL HIM FOR HIS FUCKEN BONES. like... this is the guy im suppose to believe is the villain???

honestly i feel like part of the reason why LB's plotlines seem so bad and disconnected (and sometimes outright racist but that's another rant) and why darkles is disproportionately more violent and villainous in the later books is bc she didn't expect the darkling to be so popular and wanted to stick with her guns of making him the villain. but also wanted the money from aleks's popularity. but like you can't have ur cake and eat it too.

Well thank you for sending this ask! It's very sweet and very passionate. I'm glad you liked my post! I didn't put as much thought into it as some of my others lol. I kind of just talked. But it was nice to be able to finally talk about some of the problems I have with both her character and the fandom/author's perception of her.

HERE is the post this is referring to, in case anyone's wondering.

👀👀 You've hit the nail on the head for so many things, here!

Baghra is extremely emotionally unavailable, basically to the point of neglect. She's also verbally and physically abusive, traits which I doubt were only reserved for her students and not her son. Baghra claims she would do anything to protect him, but I've known a lot of parents who have that mindset and yet still harm their children because they think it's "good for them".

Aleksander stays at Baghra's side for years, and even when they're opposing each other she's never too far away from him. Idk if you've read the books but he does eventually hurt her. And as much as I don't like Baghra, I think his actions were horrid. But I'm also honestly kind of surprised it took him so long lmao.

Yeah I mean, in terms of isolation, let's not forget that she never wanted to introduce him to his father, either. Baghra's sense of eternity clouds a lot of her judgments on relationships, which means she views most people as dust and therefore teaches her son to as well. The problem with that is that he's a growing child, and he needs those social and emotional attachments for healthy development.

I would bet quite a bit of money that Baghra has either never told him she loves him or she has told him so few times it's practically forgettable.

And everything becomes more complicated because so many of Baghra's actions are understandable because of her life and her history, but the impacts they have on the people around her, especially Aleksander, are permanently damaging. And the fact that that's never gone over in critical depth in the books or how it's glossed over in fandom is just very disconcerting. Like, acknowledging Baghra's failings doesn't mean we're excusing Aleksander's actions, it just means we're holding Baghra liable for her own. Which the fandom should be doing, considering she's the epitome of an abusive parental figure.

And Alina trusting Baghra over Aleksander is even more confusing! Especially in the show!! This is the woman who beat her and abused her and tortured her friends when they tiny little children (and who probably still does so now that they're adults). This is the woman who mocks you and harasses you and insults you on a regular basis. Why does Baghra revealing she's Aleksander's mother make Alina change her mind?! Like fuck, I'd just feel bad for Aleksander. No wonder he kept it a secret, I would too! And that painting is enough evidence?! Really?! A random painting shown to you by this abusive mentor that's been making your life hell. That's what you're going to betray your new lover over?

The friends trying to harvest his bones thing is a good point, too. I think Aleksander, especially show Aleksander, is incredibly idealistic. I think he cares too much for others - those he's deemed worth his care (a sentiment given to him by Baghra). Despite everything she's tried to teach him about hiding and abandoning others and never caring and never doing anything to help or reach out or connect with people, Aleksander still continues to do so. It's likely because he never got it from Baghra growing up, and so is desperate for those emotional needs to be fulfilled elsewhere.

His turning point, when Baghra tells him it was understandable that those kids tried to kill him because the world is such a hard place for them - that's crucial. And the reason it's possible as a motivating factor is because of that idealism and that desire to help and that desire to be everything his mother isn't. Baghra tells him this trauma he just experienced was because of the oppression of his people, and instead of following her lead and accepting that, going into hiding and abandoning everybody to their misery, he goes I can do something about that. I can make it so this never happens again. Which is usually how trauma like that combines with one's core personality traits at a young age, especially when there's none of the essential support systems in place to aid in recovery (ie, the role Baghra should have been filling but wasn't, because she decided to exacerbate the problem instead).

And yeah, one of my biggest problems with the ham-fisted "beating you over the head with a sledgehammer of evil deeds" look-how-bad-this-character-is! portrayal of the Darkling in the later books comes from the impression I get that Bardugo doesn't trust her readers. She's so desperate to have us hate this character and think him an irredeemable villain, not trusting any of her readers to engage critically with a morally gray character, that it feels quite a bit like condescending fucking bullshit. Which ew, I know how to engage with literature, thanks.

She really does seem to look down on a large part of her fandom, and imo, the infantilization of the female characters in her books seems to carry over to her impression of most of her female readers as well. Which is why the Darkling's character arc gets fucking destroyed. But he's still a good cash grab, of course, so she'll shake his dead corpse in front of the fandom for money every time she wants something from it.

Also! Another reason I think her plotlines feel disconnected (I'm sorry Bardugo I respect you as a person, but shit-) is because the writing in SaB is just bad. I mean, nevermind the absolutely nauseating implications of the way she portrays the Grisha as a persecuted group who's situation is never actually fully addressed as it should be, considering Grisha rights is what her main villain is fighting for (imo for a series called the Grishaverse, LB seems to be pretty anti Grisha), but her characters and story alone are just wrong for each other. They don't fit together.

And the ending is one of the main pieces of evidence in that regard! You can’t say the ending where Alina isn’t Grisha anymore is her “going back to where she started” when she’s always been Grisha. She just didn’t know she was Grisha because she denied that part of herself that she was born with.

Alina is reluctant to move forward or change, she struggles with adapting, and she’s very set on the things she’s grown attached to throughout her life. She also has some latent prejudices against the Grisha, and so denies the possibility of being Grisha for those reasons as well.

Alina’s lack of powers in the beginning of her life because she willfully doesn’t learn about them to avoid change versus her lack of powers at the end of the book when she’s accepted them and then they’re stripped away from her by outer forces are two entirely separate circumstances. You can’t make a parallel about lost powers and lack of Grisha status bringing her back to the start when she was always Grisha and she always had powers and she simply refused to come to terms with it because of personal reasons.

The first situation is an internal conflict that indicates a story about growth and a journey of self acceptance. Denying herself the opportunity to learn about her heritage and to find acceptance with a group of people like her because she’s tied to the past and because of the way she was raised is the setup for a narrative that tackles unlearning prejudice and learning how to connect with a part of her identity that was denied her and learning how to grow independent and self assured. It’s the setup for a different story entirely. The second situation is an external conflict that centers around the ‘corrupting influence of power’... for some reason.

In a world where Grisha do not have social, political, or economic power and they are hunted, centering your heroine’s journey of self acceptance and growth around an external conflict about... the corrupting influence of power (in a group of people that don’t actually have any power?!) just doesn’t work. It is literally impossible to connect the two stories Bardugo is trying to push in Shadow and Bone without seriously damaging the main character’s developmental arc.

The only way a narrative like this would work, claiming that she has gone back to where she started, is either a) if the Grisha weren’t actually a persecuted group and instead were apart of the upper class, or b) if the one bad connection between the two instances is acknowledged - that Alina denied a part of herself crucial to self acceptance and growing up, and that losing her powers at the end has also denied her. It is a tragedy, not a happy ending.

Alina suffered because she didn’t use her powers. She grew sick. It was bad for her. This was not a resistance to 'the corruption of power and the burden of greed', it was her suffering because she couldn’t fully accept herself.

Framing the ending as a return to the beginning can’t be done if you don’t address how bad the beginning was for your main character. You brought her back to a bad point in her life. You regressed her. This should be a low point in her arc. It should be a problem that’s solved so she can finish developing organically or it should be something that is acknowledged as a tragedy in it’s own right, for the future the world (the writing) denied her.

This is a ramble and it makes no sense and I’m really sorry, but my point is that Bardugo put the wrong characters in the wrong story. The character arc required for organic development doesn’t match the story and intended message at all. The narrative doesn’t fit the cast. She's got two clashing stories attempting to work in tandem and she ends up with both conflicting messages that fans still can’t comprehend in her writing and an ending that doesn’t suit her main character to such an impossible degree that it’s almost laughable.

So yeah, there's a few reasons why I think the story and the plot feels so bad and disconnected. I hope you don't mind me making this answer so long! 😅 I was not expecting to write this much.

[duffs-shot-glass]

I Was Gonna Tell You (Axl Rose x *sister!* Reader)

I Was Gonna Tell You

Axl Rose x (sister!) reader

fluff , angst???

WARNINGS:profanities

Word Count: 855

Requested by: @foxinaforestofstars

“I loved what you wrote for my request, so much! I hope you don't mind if I request more for Axl's sister!reader. Basically, I'd imagine he'd try to keep her out of the spotlight as much as he can, so not many people are aware he has a sister or that she's in his custody. And one day his girlfriend (maybe Erin, idk) comes over for a surprise visit and finds them cuddled up on the couch watching movies and is like "Eww, you're cheating on me with a child?!" and the explanation that follows?”

I know it has taken me a really long time to post this so thank you for your patience! Also, I’m sorry if this is really bad. I feel like I could have done a lot better on it. Anyways, hopefully it doesn’t disappoint too much. Also, this is a bit smaller than normal so hope that’s okay.

Narrator’s POV:

Life as Axl Rose’s sister wasn’t easy. Y/N spent most of her days inside. Other than school and the occasional night over at a friend's house, her life was boring. That isn’t something you’d expect to hear from the sister of a rock star. Axl tried to keep her out of the spotlight. Most people didn’t even know he had a sister, including Erin. Axl had told Y/N about Erin a while ago, and he talked about her quite frequently too. Y/N was in the kitchen opening a soda when she looked over at Axl on the couch. “Hey Ax?” “hm?” “When are you gonna tell Erin you have a sister?” Y/N questioned as she took a swig of her drink. “Well..” he trailed off as he stared out the window. Axl had planned to tell Erin soon. The topic of siblings had never come up in conversation before and surprisingly he had never thought to tell her. “I’m planning on telling her next time I see her.” He said as he laid down on the couch. Y/N nodded her head in agreement. Y/N grabbed a blanket and sat next to Axl on the couch. “What should we watch?” he asked as he flipped through channels on the TV. “Whatever you wanna watch is fine.”

[...]

Erin stepped foot in the airport, excited that soon she would see her boyfriend. She hadn’t told him that she was coming to visit. She liked surprising Axl every now and then. Her heels clicked on the airport’s tile floor as she looked for the exit. She was holding a couple bags that she packed for the trip. The glowing red ‘exit’ sign hung above a glass door at the end of a large hallway. She struggled slightly to get the door open with her bags in her hands. They eventually swung open, exposing the crisp air outside. Her eyes searched the street until she saw a yellow taxi parked by the curb. As she climbed into the backseat the driver looked her over in the rear view mirror. Please don’t be a creep. Is all she could think as she put on her seat belt. “I feel like I’ve seen you somewhere.” The driver’s voice was low and raspy as he spoke. “Really? Oh um yeah I don’t know.” It was perfectly possible that he could have seen her on magazine covers. “You’re Erin aren’t you? Erin Everly?” shit. Erin usually didn’t take taxis for this exact reason. “Um well yes I am.” The conversation on the way to Axl’s house was surprisingly normal, to Erin’s relief. As the taxi pulled into Axl’s driveway Erin could feel excitement growing inside her. She hadn’t seen him for the past couple months and she couldn’t wait to have her arms wrapped around him again. She paid the taxi driver and made her way to the front door. She felt slightly nervous as she turned the golden door knob. Though, what she saw when she opened the door crushed her heart into a million pieces. She felt as if her heart had been taken and thrown into the trash, completely disregarded. Tears brimmed Erin’s eyes. “A-axl?” she croaked out. How could he do this? She wondered. Axl’s attention was drawn to the woman and immediately his face lit up. “Erin! Wait..what’s wrong baby?” By this time he was off the couch and walking towards her. “Oh don’t you baby me.” She said sternly as tears rolled down her face. There was no denying she was upset. Axl felt hurt by her words though he tried not to show it. “I..I don’t understand. What’s wrong?” He sounded worried. “What’s wrong?! Are you seriously asking me that right now?! Axl you’re cheating on me. And not only are you cheating on me, but you’re cheating on me with a fucking child!” Erin pointed in Y/N’s direction as she spoke. Axl’s eyebrows furrowed as he looked between Y/N and Erin. “You..you think I’m cheating on you with Y/N?” he quietly chuckled, slightly amused by the situation. “Why are you laughing? You’re messed up rose you really are.” she said, shaking her head as she began walking out the door. “No Erin! I guess it’s time I introduce you two.” Erin raised her eyebrows as he spoke. “Erin, this is my sister Y/N. Y/N, this is my girlfriend Erin.” Y/N couldn’t help herself from laughing. She slowly burst into laughter, and Axl was soon to follow. “You’re lying. Why the fuck wouldn’t you have told me you have a sister?” Erin said in a bitter tone. “I’m sorry Erin.” Axl whispered as he wiped a tear from his eye. He truly did find this very funny. “Hello Erin. Axl has told me so much about you.” Y/N hugged Erin as she tried to calm herself from the laughing fit she just had. “I wish I could say the same.” Erin stated as she glared at Axl. He put his hands up in defense. “I was gonna tell you I swear.”

Have a great day and remember to drink some water. You’re beautiful! :) <3

[ellewords]

his smile is colder than you remember. or maybe it’s his eyes. his once vibrantly warm brown eyes now look a little dead.

“tooru, hi!” you chirp nervously, looking around the large cafe like there might be more people to recognize while you grip the hot cup of tea in your hands tightly despite the way it was beginning to burn your palms through the sturdy paper. “when... when did you get back from argentina?”

he doesn’t respond at first, gaze penetrating your face, and you can’t tell if he’s trying to take in your aged features or make you uncomfortable. you figure it’s the latter when you start to squirm and only then does he look satisfied enough to speak.

“i’m just visiting for a few weeks. needed a break. how have you been?” he asks kindly, but something in his tone is just a little bit off. strained even.

“i’ve been... i’ve been good, actually,” you mutter, huffing a tiny laugh as you realize that it feels true for once. “just got my dream job, so things are probably going to get hectic pretty soon, but i’m excited, you know? it’s what i’ve been working for for years.”

oikawa looks like he wants to smile—a real, genuine smile where the corners of his eyes wrinkle slightly and his cheeks flush a pretty pink from how wide it is and his face eases up just a tiny bit—but he hesitates, biting his lip instead.

“that’s amazing, (y/n),” he says, and try as he might, he can’t hide the affection coating his words. “i’m so proud of you. we, we should celebrate. i know you must’ve worked hard for it, so let me treat you.”

your cheeks warm at the offer, nodding happily. maybe things aren’t as tense as you thought.

“that would be great! how long are you here for? we should make sure it isn’t too close to your leaving day so you don’t stress—“

“babe!” a voice calls suddenly, and you perk up immediately at its familiarity.

you turn in search of the person, and you can’t help the grin you shoot them. you wave frantically before holding up a finger to indicate that you would be just a few minutes more. they nod in understanding, and you watch as they point in the direction of a corner where you can see your things and theirs lying on top of a booth. making sure you see, they wait until you nod in confirmation, smiling one more time, before they head in the direction of the table.

your smile shrinks slightly as they walk away, but the fondness doesn’t. shaking your head as if to rearrange your thoughts, you turn back to oikawa.

his eyes are dead again, but they aren’t looking at you anymore. instead, they follow your partner as they move through the crowd of people in the cafe. then he scoffs softly, and he returns your gaze.

“so you really did it, huh?” there’s a bite in the way he says it, and you gasp softly at his change in demeanor.

it reminds you of the bitter, insecure boy you met in middle school. the boy you saw wandering the halls with a fake air around him, one of confidence and power. the boy who looked like he would crack if you stared at him too long, if you bothered to try to get to know him more than he allowed. the boy he was around you before you fell in love.

“did what?” you ask cautiously.

he scoffs again, and now his lips are pulled back in that domineering, sugary sweet grin he developed in high school. you hate that grin.

“you moved on.”

and it hits you like an icicle to the heart, the coldness of his voice.

“yeah. isn’t that,” you trail off before starting again. “you told me to, tooru, so i did. what’s wrong with that?”

you want to throw your tea when he scoffs once again, like you’re stupid for not understanding why he’s acting so weird.

“there’s nothing wrong with that,” he says. “it’s just funny, is all. weren’t you the one who said you would never let go?”

the cup in your hand caves slightly as your grip squeezes tighter around it. the liquid inside splashes over the edge just a little, and you hiss when it lands on your thumb.

“that... that was a long time ago. before you left,” you say, and you hate that it sounds like you’re trying to justify some wrongdoing because you haven’t done anything wrong.

“i know. i just figured you’d actually stick to it. i, i just, i guess i should have known you wouldn’t stick around.”

the cup crushes in your hand, but this time, you don’t feel the sting of the tea meeting your skin. your mind races too much.

he’s doing that thing he used to do in high school, you realize, when he was hurt but didn’t want to confront it. the thing where he would say things, things he didn’t mean, so that he could hurt you in the same way he was hurting. the thing he didn’t always realize he was doing. he just desperately wanted to be the one with the upper hand, and as much as he cared about people, he cared about protecting himself more.

you’d fallen victim to that thing a number of times back then when you knew that he needed the support to get through it. he just needed someone to care enough to help him. you could understand him then. but now...

now you didn’t understand him at all.

“no,” you spit out, and he jumps at the way the cup crumbles in your hands, and he jumps again when he hears the frustration in your voice.

“no, you don’t get to be mad at me when you’re the one who decided to leave. i was willing to come with you and support you and stay by your side, but it was you that told me not to. and still! still, i said i would wait for you, until you were ready to have me again, but there were no calls, no messages, no letters, no nothing!

“and i saw you, on your socials! you looked happy. happier than you ever did here. you looked so happy, and you looked like, like, you looked like you had moved on. from japan, from the past, from... from me... so yeah, i figured it was time i did the same, because if you were happy, than i was happy. that’s all i ever wanted for you, tooru, and you were, so it seemed fitting that i let go.

“but i refuse to be made to feel bad when this is what you said you wanted from me! i spent months wondering if i made the right choice when i let you get on that plane all alone, if there was more that i could have done to make you realize how much i cared, and supported you, and loved you! and i’ve finally realized that i did enough! that we just weren’t meant to be. i moved on because you did. because i was ready to.

“so no, tooru, you don’t get to be upset about how everything played out. you don’t get to be upset with me.”

your chest is heaving by the time you’re finished. it almost hurts to breathe, but you don’t have time to think about that because the noise of the cafe surges back into your ears. you look around, suddenly embarrassed about your outburst, but you’re relieved to see that no one is focused on your words. they’re all frantic about your hands and the tea that spilled to the floor, steam still floating up from the puddle that formed at your feet.

except oikawa. his cheeks are that pretty pink you used to love, and his mouth is opening and closing like a fish. he’s staring at you with those same dead eyes, but for a second, you think you see something flicker in them. he opens his mouth, this time looking like he’s going to say something, but before he has the chance, another distressed voice cuts in.

“oh my gosh, love, your hands!” your partner yelps, suddenly by your side, fumbling clumsily as they throw your things over their shoulder so they can tend to you. “oh gosh, um, excuse me, can you grab some of those napkins for us, please?”

they’re talking to oikawa, who seems to blink out of his daze just then before grabbing a handful of napkins to give them.

your partner taps the napkins across your hands desperately, and they’re holding you so gently and with so much care that you finally feel the burn of the fallen tea. thankfully, the burn isn’t anything too serious, but the skin throbs visibly and aches slightly. your eyes water. they notice.

“hey, no, it’s alright, okay? look at me, love. i’ll get you another one, okay, but first i need to make sure you’re okay,” they mutter to you, eyes darting across your face with worry.

you sniffle, shaking your head instantly, and then you lean heavily into their side. you’re tired and your eyes hurt and your chest feels so tight, and you just want to go home. it’s almost as if they can read your mind because before you can utter the words, they’re mumbling into your hair that they’ll make you some at home instead. they start to guide you to the exit; with every step away from the scene you had made, you feel lighter.

you had loved tooru, all those years ago, and you had wanted him to come back for so long. you’d hoped that one day he would wake up and realize how much you yearned to be with him, or that he should call you just to see how you were. you’d hoped that he would realize he still felt the same way you did. but you could only put up with so much, after being left in the dark for so long, after dreaming for so long, after being disappointed for so long. you realized that now.

you were happy now, even if it wasn’t by his side.

oikawa can see it, the happiness that follows the two of you out the door. he longs for it, but he doesn’t move in pursuit of it. instead, when the two of you are finally out of sight, oikawa allows another scoff to fall past his lips, but this time, tears fall from his eyes as well.

-💛

— from elle ! this was pure pain but in the best possible way ?? like wow 💛anon you are absolutely amazing and talented please this made my heart actually ache oh gosh ;-; you are so so good i don’t think words are enough to describe you aaaaa !! anyways for my addition (under the cut as always), i decided to do a lil flashback before oikawa decided to come back. i was v intrigued by oikawa leaving reader in the dark so this scenario stemmed from that. idk if this will help, but i listened to taylor swift’s i almost do on repeat while writing

notes / warnings : timeskip!oikawa x gn!reader, scenario, angst, wc: ~1k (perhaps my longest margins entry ??)

��� ⚘᠂ ⚘ ˚ ⚘ ᠂ ⚘ ᠃

Twenty-seven. 

You’ve reached out to him twenty-seven times today. This included calls, text messages, and voice memos.  

They were always sweet; always checking up on him, asking how he is, if he’s getting along with his new team, if practice was tiring, if he was taking care of himself. You always thought of him first, put him above yourself. Oikawa knows it shouldn’t be that way, but the small, selfish part of himself couldn’t help but love it. Him being oceans away didn’t seem to change that. 

The front door shuts just as his phone lights up, your name appearing on the lock screen. The heart by your name taunts him, reminding him of what once was. Oikawa’s eyes scan over your text message, tears pricking at the corners. He’s unsure if it’s from the brightness of the screen contrasting with the darkness of his apartment, or your words. Possibly both. 

[ y/n <3 : it’s getting late over there, i hope you’re getting some rest. take care… ]

Oikawa bites his lip, closing out the notification as soon as he finished reading, immediately regretting it. His lock screen is still a picture of the two of you, mocking him. But if he shut his eyes tight enough, he could almost imagine it.

The pale blue sky, the sun shining down on the two of you, the cool breeze blowing through his hair, the smile that spread across your face, the faint pink flush on his features, his arm around your shoulders, the way you leaned into his touch. Your presence is warmth, your eyes brought him comfort, your hand resting on his cheek gave him peace.

His phone pings again, snapping Oikawa out of his trance. Another message.

[ y/n <3 : i love you. ]  

Twenty-nine. 

Twenty-nine calls, texts, and voice messages. You’ve reached out to him twenty-nine times today. Yesterday you reached out to him thirty-five times. Last week it was at fifty. 

But Oikawa Tooru didn’t answer a single one. 

A sigh leaves him, stuffing his phone back into his pocket. He doesn’t bother turning the lights on, the quiet sounds of his shoes hitting the wooden floor fill the room. Oikawa’s steps are slow, like each one physically pained him to take. Nighttime was always the hardest to bear, the most difficult to resist. It’s when the temptation to call you is at its peak.

Oikawa stands in front of his living room window, hands in his pockets. The view of the city never failed to take his breath away; bright lights from the buildings that towered over the hundreds of people on the street, their nights only beginning as they hopped from one bar to another. Practice was too much today, his body beaten and bruised from the long hours of setting, receiving, blocking, and serving. There’s a strain in his muscles that he can’t shake off, and if it weren’t for that he would have been part of the city nightlife too.

Nights are the hardest. He doesn’t have volleyball or his teammates to keep him occupied. He’s not dancing his heart out with strangers who vaguely recognize him, music blaring in his ears, taking pictures to post on social media the very next day. Night are the hardest because his mind always leads him to you. 

Midnight for him meant that it was midday for you. Have you eaten yet? How is work treating you? Are you getting along with your coworkers? …did you think of him like he always thought of you? Questions that he could have the answers to within a few seconds; all he had to do was reach for his phone, look for your name — the only one with a heart next to it, and press the call button.

Instead, Oikawa reads through your texts. The ones where you ask him how he’s doing, the ones where you quickly summarize your day, the ones where you tell him you love him. His heart flutters before it aches, the grip on his phone tightening. 

His heart has always belonged to you, Oikawa knew it from the very day you met. He knew it when he confessed. He knew it when he asked you to be his. He knew it as you went on dates, as you celebrated anniversaries. He knew it through every fight, in every kiss. He knew it when he got on the plane that took him miles away from you.

Oikawa also knew you deserved better than him. He knew you deserved someone present; someone who could be there with you, physically. Clearly, he can’t be the one to do that anymore. This is for you. At the end of it all, what he’s doing is for you. Maybe it would make everything easier. You’d think he’d move on. You’d hate him. It’s for the best, right? 

He hopes he’s wrong, but Oikawa persists anyways. 

Out of sight, out of mind. Isn’t that how the saying goes?

It was much more difficult than Oikawa thought it would be; after all, you’re probably just as stubborn and persistent as he is. His phone lights up, signalling a new text.

[ y/n <3 : i really hope you’re okay, tooru. ] 

This makes thirty. 

He bites the inside of his cheek, a futile attempt to stop the tears that streamed down his face. A choked up noise leaves the back of his throat, surprising himself. He could have ended both his and your pain, all he had to do was type out a reply. 

But the flurry of contradicting emotions stop him from doing so. Oikawa wants you to live your life, to move on, to forget him, to be happy without him. At the same time, he wanted you to wait for him, with open arms and that smile he loved. 

His fingers move on their own, slowly but surely, as quiet sobs raked through his entire body. 

[ i’m always going to love you. ] 

Oikawa almost sends it. But he doesn’t.

᠃ ⚘᠂ ⚘ ˚ ⚘ ᠂ ⚘ ᠃

send me a hc / or a scenario ! <3  |  written on the margins masterlist

taglist : @haikyuutothetop @crystal-lilac @tobioespresso @sushijimawakatoshi @itsmeaudrieee @pantherhappy @jesssobs @mysticstrawberryballoon @cloudedsky29 @sakusasimpbot @aoirohi @kokogxddess @livy384 @itachislut @crapimahuman @dkeela @duhsies @rmjace @ryustanaka @sanchooinc @sassyglassesbunny @cemeiia @nikiniki743 @meiankolia @tooru--o 

join my hq taglist here. <3

[stylesann]

Rebuilding

Steve Rogers x fem!reader

Summary: Steve decides to go back to the 40’s and you hurt.

Warnings: idk? Angst but happy ending

A/N: I have no idea what this is but aaa I feel like it’s bad lol, I just always get in a very angsty and dramatic mood every time that I read a story about Steve leaving so I wanted to do my own twist? Idk, and it’s been yeaaaars since I don’t write anything and also I’m not a native English speaker so I apologise any mistakes. Comments are always welcome 💕 -> written in around 15/04/2021; ->posted 28/05/2021

Masterlist

You stare at the ocean and release all the air you were holding on your lungs. You still felt your body heavy but at least your tears had stoped. You’re fighting hard to keep your thoughts out of your head, to keep your mind calm like the scenario in front of you, an empty beach with the ocean waves rhythmically hitting the shore. The sky had a lot of clouds and it would probably rain soon, but you didn’t mind, it matched you mood.

You could say you were surprised but all you felt was disappointment, sadness and if you were being honest, you felt anger and jealousy. What Peggy had that you didn’t? I mean, you didn’t know the answer and you were sure if you had asked Steve he wouldn’t be able to give you one cause he had spent such a short amount of time with her that he couldn’t be able to actually know all of her. All her flaws, all the quirks. In the past you had thought he didn’t even loved her anymore and was just in love with an image, an illusion he had from his past. But for him to had left you for her you weren’t even sure of that anymore.

You also felt used, replaceable, like you were just kept there cause he couldn’t do better, cause he couldn’t be with her. And now that he could he just tossed you away. You knew Steve wasn’t that kind of guy, but thats how you felt. And no one could tell you how you should feel or deal with it.

So that’s what lead you here. It had all happened hours ago. You saw his old self in that bench and you just felt numb. Bucky tried to hold you, he said that Steve wanted to talk to you but you just left. You had that right didn’t you? You didn’t care about what he had to say, it was all bullshit. You didn’t care about his guilt, or how sorry he was. You didn’t even care to go back to the apartment you shared with him, because you knew if you had gone there you would be stared by a hundred pictures you had with him.

You just wanted to get away. So here you came. You look down to the wedding band on you finger and the engagement ring. You wore both together but it didn’t make sense to have them anymore. You didn’t want any memories from Steve on you so you take them out and feel their light weight on you palm. You knew this was it, it was your way of closure, of ending that part of you life. You take a deep breath and throw them at the sea. There’s no way of seeing them drown but just the thought that you didn’t have them anymore made you lighter.

You turn around, ready to go back to the car that brought you here but you see a familiar figure blocking the way. Bucky.

“How are you feeling, doll?” he says approaching you. You didn’t know how long he was standing there or what he had seen. You wonder if he could see how empty and drained you really were.

“In the moment I’m not feeling anything. I think I’m still mostly numb. But that’s probably for the best, right?” You try to give him a light answer knowing that he lost his best friend too. How could Steve have left him after fighting so long to have him back was beyond you. “Did you know? Did you know what he was gonna do?”

“I did” that was all it took for the tears to start falling from your eyes. Why had Steve told him and not you? You were his wife for gods sake didn’t you deserve at least this? Bucky reaches for you but you push him away.

“Why didn’t h-he tell me? Why did he d-do this?” you hiccup between the words, the tears falling harder than before.

“I think he just didn’t have the guts to. You know he loves you, Y/N-“

“Screw him! If he did, he wouldn’t have done this!” All the feelings you were trying to push down seem to come to surface and tighten their grip on your chest. “I can’t understand why you aren’t angry? Why aren’t you feeling betrayed?”

“He didn’t leave me alone Y/N, he asked us to take care of each other” he has a pleading look on his face while he says that, and you see that the difference between you and him is that he had some time to come to terms with his friends decision, he’s sad but keeping it to himself. He’s trying to be strong for everyone one else who didn’t know, for you mostly.

“I don’t care about what he asked. I’m not staying and I’m not doing what he would want me too. I’m always gonna be there for you Buck, not because he’s wants that but because I care about you. Whatever you need you can call, even if it’s just for a chat, but I’m not staying, i can’t. I am getting into that car and I’m gonna drive away as much as i can, and I’m only stopping when I feel like I’ve put miles between me and this” you say more calm than you were minutes before. You had a plan, it may not be the best one but that’s what you had for now. You didn’t want to be in the same place you lived with Steve, you didn’t want to see the same scenarios you saw with him, you wanted nothing from him. Maybe it was bitter of you, or maybe you didn’t have the best coping mechanism but you needed the distance.

Bucky’s expression seemed to sadden a bit but he understood, he knew this wasn’t easy for you. “I don’t want to change your mind about leaving, so I say the same, if you need anything you call Y/N, got it?” He says as he hugs you firmly.

“Got it” you say in whisper against his shoulder, his arms still around you delaying the last moments he’s gonna have with another friend. You hate to be doing this, he didn’t deserve it you knew it, but you also knew that he wouldn’t be willing to accompany you on your trip, and it was something that you needed to do alone. You were alone.

“You know he wouldn’t have done this if he didn’t know you you be able to rebuild your life, right? You’re a strong person” He uses the same tone of voice you had, he probably just didn’t want to trigger you into making your feelings rise again.

“Everyone has the ability to rebuild themselves, Buck. The fact that I’m strong shouldn’t make what he did alright. And I don’t feel much strong now... I just feel like I’m a shell. And even if I do find someone else, how am I going to let them in? How am I supposed to trust anyone with my heart, when the guy I gave all my heart before completely destroyed me?” A single tear fall from your eye, but you hold the rest back. “I’m going to be fine but I don’t even know what that mean anymore.” He just nods to this, and I know there’s nothing left to be said so I head to the car and take a deep breath holding the wheel. This is it.

I look at Bucky while I drive away, he’s still standing where I left him and I hope with everything on me that he will be fine too. Whatever that means.

****************************

The sun is harsh on your eyes slipping through the curtains open frames. You turn your head to the other side and you feel a heavy weight on your waist stopping you from moving further than that. You slowly open your eyes to see Franks figure with his arm on you and his head drowned on the pillow.

You turn again to look at the clock to see it marking 8:47 am. Mary would be up soon, so you slip from Frank taking extra care not to wake him up and head to the kitchen to make a quick breakfast.

“Y/N! Y/N! Can we have pancakes today?!” Mary breaks into the small kitchen excitedly jumping around. Today you and Frank would be taking her to her new math club and she couldn’t be more anxious about it.

“What is going on here” Franks rough morning voice appears on the room. He’s rubbing his eyes and seems to be sleeping still.

“We are making Mary her favourite pancakes for breakfast” you answer them as you get the ingredients on the counter. Mary hugs you and sits straight on the table waiting for you to prepare them.

It had been 6 years since the day you left New York and ended up traveling for a long time through the country only to end up here. Florida. It was hot all the time, you always felt warm but it was distant enough from your past and you felt better about it. You decided that you wanted to rent a small place near the beach and so you found a woman named Roberta, that rented a few houses that fulfilled your wish. You didn’t think twice before accepting her deal.

You weren’t carrying anything on you except for the few clothes that you had bought on your journey so the move was quite simple. And you weren’t expecting to fit in so well here but the fact that as soon as you were settled a little girl, who was maybe 7 at the time, had come to you with a lot of questions that honestly you couldn’t answer warmed you up to the place real fast.

The fact that Mary had managed to always meet up with you but you still had to meet Frank was beyond you. She talked a lot about him “Frank did this today”, “oh did you know Frank let me adopt another cat”, “the first cat Frank got us was Fred, he has only one eye”, and so on. You knew more about him that you probably would by talking to him in person, according to Mary herself. She said he was very closed but had a great heart, she even told you the story about him fighting in justice for her guard. It only made you think he was a great guy who would do anything to protect his niece, and you were sincerely excited to meet him, give the person a face.

However, as it appears that his schedule was always all over the place and you always waking around town and spending many hours on the beach didn’t help with your meeting. You didn’t understand at first too how Mary always found you around, but she explained that whenever she wasn’t studying and Frank was going out with his girlfriend Boni, she stayed with her friend Roberta, who quickly became a good acquaintance of yours.

Either way, Mary had been talking to you for weeks when you finally met Frank. You couldn’t believe your eyes and genuinely thought you were delusional. He looked just like Steve, but the moment he started speaking you could see the differences between the two and the helped you find your foot again.

In the beginning you were hesitant about spending time with Mary and Frank, who surprised Mary with the news that he had gotten a more stable job. According to him, he still fixed boats but for a company that payed well. You were happy for him but the memories his face brought still made you want distance.

During the four years you traveled around you had let him go, all of him. You had been trough all the grief stages and learnt how to do well with your own company, you didn’t need anyone else. But looking at his face had the effect of hitting you with a sad resigned feeling and you didn’t like it. But Mary always spoke so highly of her uncle that you knew keeping your distance from both because of memories wasn’t fair.

Frank, of course notice that you never iniciantes any conversation with him and he wondered if Mary had introduced the same woman she said was talkative and affectionated. He asked you about it and it wasn’t until you answered with sincerity that he understood. Since then he was more careful in your presence which you appreciated.

With time though, you warmed up to him, he was a good guy you never doubted that. You became close friends and when him and Boni broke up you helped him. It was a mutual break up but it’s never easy.

You friendship was going great until you notice him treating you differently than he would before and you realised he was slowly catching feelings for you. Obviously being romantically involved with him was the last thing you wanted but you couldn’t bring yourself to change the way things were going between you two and that’s what led you to this moment.

In a car, dropping Mary off to her math club, with Frank by your side and the promise that it would be okay. It had to. You took so long to let him in that now you didn’t want to let go, and you doubt Frank wanted anything but stay. Bucky said the same when he came to visit you and Frank. You look at him and you see him smile at you.

“You think he’s gonna be a mini genius?” He asks looking at the small bump on your belly.

“If he gets MY genes, obviously” I sass laughing.

“Ha, you know the genius genes it’s on my side of the family Mrs. Adler” he chuckles.

“On your dreams” you smile. It you be okay.

[therealtsk]

tsk i’m DYING to hear your play-by-play on which worm characters have dumb fanon interpretations

UH OH YOU JUST OPENED THE FLOODGATES so the short answer is pretty much every major character but I am a high-effort bitch so let's do this: Taylor Hebert: jfc, I could probably hit a word count limit talking about Taylor alone. First you have the dumb as shit TINO (Taylor In Name Only) phenomenon where people just straight up SI as Taylor but pretend it's her and she's basically a different person wearing Taylor's skin like an ill-fitting suit. Then there's the Memetic Escalator Taylor interpretation where Taylor's Warlord era characterization is flanderized so hard that she turns into her world's version of Doomguy where her response to literally everything is ultra violence, mutilation and torture and she can totally beat up anyone you guys hahah coin sock goes brrrrr you go brutalize those totally deserving victims queen. And then there's shy, stuttering, soft spoken "useless lesbian" Taylor which is not as common but still, fuckin straight men and the way they infantize gay women. Taylor is perhaps the most consistently inconsistent characterization I've seen in fandom, it's fucking wild Lisa Wilbourn: Has two fanon settings. Taylor's best friend who exists solely to give exposition and get the "Stop Coil" subplot rolling (occasional gay subtext will be added in a way that feels fetishy) Or, the evil bitchy blonde who is first target of the SI. I constantly wonder if the people who write the frankly masturbatory SI's are aware that we can tell they're still bitter about girls not dating them in highschool. Brian: basically does not exist in fic aside from the occasional joke cause racism and also because of how popular wlw ships are in Worm fandom. you deserve better dude Alec: has a few token appearances in wormfic fandom that usually have him as the comic relief alongside Aisha, which might actually be for the best considering he's a rapist and the Worm fandom's uhhhh tendencies. Moving on- Aisha: prankster girl that alt!Taylor will adopt as a younger sibling. hopefully is not part of the totally-not-a-harem considering she's even younger then the rest of these teens Bitch: Another girl to fall into alt!Taylor's definitely-not-a-harem, but with more butch tendencies. Basically has no personality in fanon outside of her dogs Parian: SHE DOESN'T HAVE A SHOP FFS also another member of Taylor's totally-not-a-harem Flechette: yeah it's a harem Sophia: holy shit you think Brian's bad? The racism in pretty much every fanon depiction of Sophia is off the charts. Hyper-violent, super edgy, "predator/prey" speech inbound, will get humilated/killed in some new, supposedly satisfying but actually just deeply uncomfortable way, probably throw in some E88 shit too just because Emma: again, do the writers know we can tell they're still malding over the fact that the pretty girls in highschool didn't date them? fanon emma is pretty much a cardboard cut out of whoever was mean to the author. something something bitches three Madison: in fanon has a C53 fetish, occasionally is also Browbeat. don't ask why Victoria: gets hit with the blonde stereotypes even harder then Lisa, "Collateral Damage Barbie" is one of the phrases that activates my flight or fight responses. she basically is an entirely different character in fanon. bubbly dumb blonde girl with a massive temper and well other sexist bullshiit Amy: I hate even touching this character with a ten foot pole but basically is hit with the "soft useless lesbian" trope hard enough to make her into a completely separate person from her canon self. whether or not this is a good thing is still up for debate Carol: in fanon, an evil bitch who exists solely to bully Amy Mark: who? The rest of New Wave: cannon fodder for Leviathan Danny Hebert: literally stale milk instead of a personality, will probably die before the fic is over but we won't care because the author did not care either Armsmaster: hahaha robotman go brrrr or is an arrogant self-aggrandizing shit, can't interact with people without Dragon helping him 24/7 Miss Militia: fanon bat'd into team mom,

idk where this came from considering her first instinct upon seeing children is to pull out a gun holy shit wait is she actually Taylor's true mom- Velocity: canon fodder for levi Battery & Assault: sitcom wife, sitcom husband! please ignore how fucked up this relationship is if you look at it for more than two seconds Dauntless: haha armsy is JEALOUS also cannon fodder for levi Triumph: who? The BB wards in general tend to be incredibly bland, the only ones who have fanon personalities of note are Clockblocker and Vista. The former being such a huge prankster that every other line is a joke- or him complaining about how BULLSHIT Alt!Taylor's powers are. Vista is an angry kiddo who says that Shadow Stalker doesn't count as being a girl on the team The E88: no personality for any of them except that Kaiser is noble and really isn't that bad and also Purity did nothing wrong totally she's just a hot mom trying to do her best, please ignore how she exclusively targets characters of color and literally calls white criminals more civilized than miniorities- the worm fandom has something of a nazi problem i hate it here The ABB: racism and honorable samurai lung even though that has no canon basis so again, racist stereotypes The Slaughterhouse 9: This one makes me just as sad as the Lisa shit because dear god this is such a good cast of villains that fanon completely flattens to bowling pins for the Alt!Taylor of the week to mow down, why does this fandom suck so much. Anyway Jack is just the Joker, Crawler is masochistic, etc i'm moving on now The PRT/Protectorate as a whole: They are an evil paramilitary organization that pressgangs kids into signing up to become child soldiers, and somehow at the same time, they are a bunch of idiots who listen to the PR department and have stupid things like RULES that prevent capes from COMMITTING VIOLENCE. Being called "the biggest gang of all" is common and some shit like "at least the criminals are honest" is a likely statement. Cauldron: whoo boy this one really boils my blood but fanon Cauldron are just a bunch of evil idiots who can't even tie their shoelaces. basically a bunch of dudebros are upset that women run the world and that two of them essentially have "I win" powers so they have to make them lose to their SI- er, Taylor in fics so they can assuage their masculinity, which totally isn't pathetic Scion: Is at once the end all be all of worm you can't write a wormfic without scion or else it's TOTALLY MEANINGLESS because what is the point of a story if all the characters are going to DIE in a few years anyway, and at the same time is incredibly easy to defeat- this ties into how Cauldron is stupid. Scion Truthers pls shut up and go read something else okay I think that's everyone I would apologize but the only thing I'm sorry for is how messy this is

[withoneheadlight]

life has been a bit crazy for me so I haven’t been around but I’m glad to see that the upside down kiss fic is circulating back around bc it lives rent free in my mind constantly and I am whORE KNEE 😩

nsfw! anon

(I hope you’ve seen well I miss u :((( )

NSFW!ANON I'M SO HAPPY TO SEE YOU I MISS YOUUUUUU!!!!! Holy shit this is the nicest surprise!!!!!! 💖💖💖🌟💖🌟💖🌟💖🌟💖 Wish your life were at least a bit less crazy :(. Mine's been a bit crazy too. Weird and busy. Haven't been letting me much time for fandom and i miss it so, SO FUCKING much. 

And <3<3<3, haha yep! i’ve got a soft spot for that fic too bc i had so much fun writing it, and it’s even funnier on my mind idk xD. i’m so happy people likes it. Those gifs are like a harringrove inspiration charm i swear! Maybe you’ve already seen it but @warheadache added this amazing ar to it and 🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉.

also!! i know it doesn’t look like it but i’ve got a couple things for you on the works and i’m closer to finish them!! at my snail pace but yk, 

a few excerpts bc i want to give them to you so baaaaaadddDDDDDD:

(I'm sure you'll recognize the working titles :P)

| n s f w ahead |

~

| boots |

And it’s been more than three years. More than three years of holes on his body and holes on his veins and stitches and tubes and pills and pain under every scar and unsteady steps and pulling together a pile of dirty rubble. More than one of Steve, Steve, Steve. Of coming back in busts and flickers. Enough gasoline left to light a spark. Too empty still to start a fire.

Except―

He’s going through his old stuff, one day. Cold outside. Late January. Chill fogging the windows. Daylight pouring to the edges of the sky like red-hot steel on the other side.

Billy’s on the floor. The contents of the two plastic bags collecting dust at the bottom of his closet since he moved in here now scattered all around. Cassettes and crumpled papers and tampered books and stupid memorabilia and. His old tight jeans. His leather jackets. His light-blue denim one, with the blood-red goodbye kiss of somebody whose cheek he remembers touching, whose face he can’t remember anymore.

And Billy doesn’t hear him coming, but one moment he’s not, the next Steve’s crouching by his side, leaning against him, too lightly for it to be in need of balance.

“God, Hargrove” he huffs, picks Billy’s favorite shirt out of the pile “Am I remembering this one right?”

Billy bites in a smile. Swallows down some bitterness.

“You are”

Steve nods, mouth twisting into a grin, a brow rising. Glances down at what Billy’s holding (on to) between his hands.

“And oooh. Those boots”

Still dirty. More dark brownish than black. One of the few things he got back from the hospital. His pendant being the only one he ever put back on.

“Yeah”

“Thinking ‘bout using any of these again?” Steve gives the shirt a light shake, the dark-red fabric dragging on the wooden floor.

Last time Billy wore it, he burned hole in it. A stray ember fell from his joint, right under the left pocket. Tiny enough to pass mostly unseen but―

For a closer look, it was ruined.

Two days later, the Mind-Flyer dragged him into the basement of Brimborn Steel Works.

Billy digs his fingers into the dry leather before they can start shaking.

“I don’t―” Takes in a big gulp of air “―know. Don’t know if they’ll fit anymore” It feels like nothing.

Because, he doesn’t mean only his body. Means it all. Because he’s alivealivealive, like some kind of inevitability. Alive like a form of inertia.

Alive because that’s all he had left. Got’s left. The only thing he could. Can. Do.

But,

But

“Uhmm” Steve exhales. Looks right into his eyes and it feels like he’s looking deeper. And it’s not the first time, not the first time Billy wonders, how much he knows, and how he knows it. Wonders what he might be seeing, what his instinct might be saying for him to―lower down his voice, eat away almost every single one of the scarce millimeters keeping their mouths from touching “Maybe the boots, then” his hair tickling Billy as it falls over his forehead, the feeling of it so intimate it seems illicit “Only, the boots”.

And those words. Those words. Taste like gasoline on Billy’s mouth, make the flame almost catch. Hot. As they feel over the rabbiting pulse of his jugular. Ad there shouldn’t be any empty space left between them when Steve moves even closer, his lips brushing a path of raw tenderness over Billy’s cheek, trailing sideways, air turning flammable and unstable, unbreathable when he says, “You’d look―” Voice hoarse. Shaky. Breath warm down the curve of Billy’s neck. Fingertips burning as a branding mark over his solar plexus “Hot as fuck”

Trading a grenade for Billy’s fast-beating heart.

And then― he’s getting up. Going away. Closing the door behind him. Leaving Billy one pull away from the detonation.

And Billy.

It’s been more than year since he moved. More than a year of SteveSteveSteve. Of coming back in busts and flickers. Enough gasoline left to light a spark. Too empty still to start a fire.

But Billy wants it, this kind of inevitability. Not inertia. No survival. Not that something living doesn’t really feels like. He wants Steve to release that bomb he just dropped inside of his body. Left Billy unmade. Shape him back together with his own two hands.

So he gets up. Wired-up and breathless. Anticipation beading on the surface of his skin. Thinks about of all those times alive felt like something reachable. That almost-touch sensation. Static singing on his fingertips: loving arms closing around his ocean-cold skin. The rumbling of the sea caught up on the shell of his ribcage. Max's crazy laugh like a hammer to his bones. The Camaro cooking the soles of his feet, speed making his head spin through a wormhole and out into the infinite. His knuckles cracking against the skin of another, finding bone. The metallic tang of blood flooding down the back of his tongue.

Love and fire and rage and―

He takes all his clothes off. They don’t feel like they fit, either. Socks. Sweats. Hoodie. T-Shirt. Takes a deep breath when the pendant bumps against the naked skin of his chest.

Puts his boots on.

Does the only thing he’s ever known.

“Steve!” he shouts. Pulse spiking up fast. Trying to beat a way out of his body “Can you come back in here?”

Skyrocketing, when Steve shouts back.

“Going!”

And then is the door clicking open. Billy’s lungs freezing in the middle of a breath. Steve’s eyes looking almost black as they catch the shadows. Sun falling down the reality of the other side.

And in a darkness like that, it’s only them what remains. Them, and the way they are looking at each other.

And Billy feels alive. Like falling. Feet slippin’ on the razor’s edge.

"Billy" breathes out Steve. Shoulder perched on the frame. Fingers tightening around the handle "Fuck, Billy I―"

“Yeah?”

Alive. Like a form of gravity when―

Steve comes forward. To him. Careful. Careful. Footsteps creaking on the wooden floor. Lashes falling down as his eyes drift. Swallows. Comes closer and closer still.

And then.

Their chest are brushing and their hands are almost touching and it's not even an inch but Billy has to look up even with his stupid boots on and,

“You said―”

Steve breathes in. Cuts Billy’s breath off his lungs.

Between them, there’s no room for anything that’s not the way they’re not touching.

“I know what I said”

The air, sparks, sizzles, becomes the memory of a thunderstorm and. The tips of Steve’s fingers make his hairs stand on end. High voltage. Spark over the inside of his wrist. The faded blue of his veins. And Billy shivers. Feels like that second of stasis before the rupture. Static calm and then― the ocean breaks.

And then Steve says,

“I wanna see it. That fire in you” and his fingers tickle across the hidden tenderness on the inside Billy’s elbow. Nails grazing their way up to his shoulder, detouring to contour the crest of his clavicle, slide down the trough, spreading as they follow the shape of Billy’s neck, thumb fitting into the corner of his lips and “C’mon.” smiling, smiling. Eyes creasing at the sides, lashes catching the few last strings of light. Wicked and sweet and devastating “Show me who’s that Billy Hargrove everybody's been telling me so much about”

~

| stick | tw: object insertion |

It’s thrilling, this secret, depraved game they play. Feels like it's forbidden. Leaves a sweet, honey-thick aftertaste.

And Billy is so. So curious. Can’t stop asking Steve to tell him “How it feels babe. I want to know how good it feels. God you look like it's hitting you just right” and Steve tells him. Steve fucks himself down into whatever thing Billy is holding for him, never touching himself until he’s almost there, wanting to ride that sole sensation right up until the very end. Shivering. Shaking. Breaking a sweat. The words coming ragged out of his open mouth. “Cold” or “Weird” or “Like. Too much–ah. Too much” and “Soft, God, Billy so soft” and–

“Why don’t you try it yourself?”

And Billy its so, so curious.

Billy does.

Rails himself for Steve to watch, slicked up with lube and dripping. With a rolling pin. A cucumber. Almost a whole box of wooden colored pencils, stuffed inside his ass one by one. With “ohgodgodgod”  the handle of Steve’s fucking nailed bat. Lets Steve holds whatever thing he chooses for him “C’mon, babe. C’mon. Treat it good. Swallow it as deep as you can. Take it like you would take my cock”

And life in Hawkins gets boring after the first, second, fourth, seventh yearly round. Steve takes that office work. Billy gets a permanent spot in the garage. If he gets real lucky, somebody takes him an interesting car from time to time. But sometimes Steve looks at Billy with dark, liquid eyes. Says “Ok enough”. His voice harsh. Rasped. Losing balance at the edge of what he’s able to restrain himself. Sounding as if he’s jealous of those things jamming the insides if Billy’s ass. Takes out Billy’s been writhing around. Fucks him hard. Fuck him deep. Fucks him so good there are tears in Billy’s eyes by the time he comes. Fallen apart and sobbing.

&

Steve’s driving. One hand on the wheel. One hand on the shift. The cool air of the night coming in shorts through the rolled-down window. On the radio, Ted Nugent’s making his guitar whine, the strings arching into the touch of his fingertips, asking for more more more, ‘Here I come again now baby. Like a dog in heat’

Steve’s long fingers flex over the knob, winter-cold white under reddened knuckles. He shifts from third to fourth with a smooth press and lets go of the clutch, and the Camaro sighs, settles. Steve makes her calm. Steve tames her. Where Billy makes her growl and kick Steve drives her like a lover, whispers to her with all his body I’m gonna fuck you so slow. We got all night, baby. Steve treats her right. Runs those fingers up and down the metallic rod of the shift and Billy gets hard. One second from zero to sixty.

His cock pulses, pulses. Fills up whole. The sudden rush of heat traveling up, up. Presses against the walls of his throat. Billy wants to feel the head of Steve’s cock against his bell. Wants Steve to make him choke on him.

Steve brakes. Clutches. Reduces. The Camaro moans, needy. Steve soothes her, caresses it with a soft brush of his thumb along the speed patter Shh, baby sshhh. Just hold a little bit longer. I promise I will let you come.

Billy feels himself twitch, spit out precum. The inside of his pants feels damp, appetizing. He lets his hips slide, rock.

The knob is real leather. Silver pattern ingrained over black. Seams carefully sew out on the surface as a touch of style.

Billy replaced it a few months ago, the old one too damaged by use. Worn out.

This one curves slightly forward.

It would hit just right.

Steve's eyes are alight, framed in the light reflected from the rearview mirror, a dramatic take out of an old Noir.

Except the brown shines full color. Alive.

Billy puts his hand over Steve’s on the knob, spreads his fingers around his.

Grips him hard.

“Hey, babe. Have you ever thought about it?”

“Mmm? About what?”

“About riding my car”

Steve huffs. Chuckles.

“I am driving your car”

“Yeah” Billy caresses the side of Steve’s hand with his thumb, a lagged reflection of his gesture. Thinks about how pretty Steve’s lips would look around that leather, mouth open wide “Don’t mean it like that”

&

Billy has to take a deep, shaky breath, thinking it's a miracle they ever get as far as they plan, that Steve Harrington's mere existence doesn't make him come just by looking at him.

Not all their games get to the finish line. But this, God, Billy wants this one to.

"Ah-ah" he shakes his head, smirks, keeps the stakes high "But if you hop on I'll let you eat my mouth"

“Mmmm. I don’t know”

Steve twists his lips, considering, looks like he’s willing to take his sweet time deciding, staying just like this, idly rocking on his lap, keeping Billy hooked in this scarce feeling, this almost kissing between their cocks.

And Billy––Uff. Billy it’s too revved-up, can’t take it any fucking second more.

Grabs Steve’s asscheeks. Lifts him up.

“Billy what the—ohfuck” It doesn't go in. ‘Course it doesn’t. When Billy lets Steve’s weight drop just a slight bit. It bumps. Slips. Wet and obscene. Rips a breathless thing of a sound out of his throat. But then Steve’s arms wrap around his neck. Bracing himself so Billy can take a hold of it, line himself up. And then yeah yeah. He barely has to rub the head against Steve’s slippery hole and his cock slides in. Eaaasy. All the way. Into Steve’s warmth. Tight. Tight. Tight. And–

“Ohfuck. OhfuckOh”

The air coming in from the window is cool, bristling, but it feels like nothing when Steve lets out a chocked cry. Fucks himself. Fast. Rough. Face buried into the crook of Billy’s neck. Breath blooming hot, hot. Teeth on his pulse.

“Shhhh, baby, shhh” Billy takes his face between his hands, pushes him carefully backwards. Waits ‘till Steve’s eyes slowly find focus on his, still rocking, still― “Hey. You gotta stop. You hear me?” Steve takes a deep breath, exhales long and shaky. It takes all of him to slow down, Billy knows, but he does. Thighs twitching. Cock weeping. Smearing over Billy’s belly where his t-shit has hitched up.

Billy brushes his hair back from his forehead. Tangled and damp and gorgeous.

Kisses him light and sweet.

“We’re close, baby. We’re really, really close. But you gotta stop so I can open you up real good ok?”

Steve nods, eyes glossy, lips bitten and Billy feels overwhelmed, feels like burning under the hard sun. They’re both hanging by the thinnest of threads, Billy can feel it, can see it in the blown-out dark of Steve’s eyes. They’re riding pleasure at point break, time holding its breath for them. This is his favorite part of the game. A little too much, just a little too much. ‘Till one of them loses it. ‘Till one of them melts on the other’s hands. Hard and thick.

And God, Billy has never been one not to push his luck.

He takes two fingers up to Steve’s lips, runs the tips over the tender skin inside. Thinks about how they don’t look bitten enough, swollen enough. About how he’s gonna have to fix that.

“I’m gonna put these two inside. Will you get them ready for me?” Steve’s Smile twitches up, canines showing. It’s a two-men-con. But they play as much against the other as they play together. So Steve swallows both fingers. All the way in one go. Eyes falling shut. Eats them wet and messy. Deepthroats. Rumbles. Ass clenching, pulsing around Billy’s cock. And Billy is only a short breath of self-control away from spending himself inside him like a fucking rookie.

It’s boring, small-town life, really. Except–

“Good boy,” he says, making his fingers pop out of Steve’s mouth, satisfaction tastier than honey at the mean glare it grants him. But it softens, that glare, Steve’s eyelids flutter, open-mouthed and blissed, when Billy brushes the head of his cock with his knuckles, haft teasing, half relieving, keeping Steve in the tightrope with him.

“I’m getting a bit impatient in here, Hargrove” he says, only managing to make his voice sound half annoyed about it. Bit Billy is too, impatient. So drags his fingers down, pads tracing the taut shape of Steve’s cock, his balls, and down. Presses. Softly. Rubs the stretched-out flesh of his hole. Dips just the tips. Press. Press. And–

“AhfuckBilly–Ah.Mmmmh”

It’s tight. Steve’s ass clenches around him, squeezes him in. It’s a heady feeling, having him like this, senses overrunning. He’s intoxicated. High on the painful scratch of Steve’s nails when he grabs his jaw to kiss him open-mouthed and harsh. The helpless way he chokes off a sob when Billy makes his fingers curl, rubs him good and,

“I’m ready, Billy. I’m ready. BillyBillyplease. I can’t take it anymore. Please, baby. I’m ready” he’s gasping, breathless, barely taking in the heated up air they share.

“Hey. C’mon. C’mon. Just a little more, ok?. A little more and I’ll let you swallow it all in. That knob. All the way down your ass. No space left for anything else" he licks the words all along Steve’s neck, his ear. Rubs his lips over the damp roots of his hair. Cock pushing. Fingers working. When Steve sits on the stick. Billy wants him right over the edge “Gonna cum so hard you’re gonna be begging me to let you ride her again”

~

yup! hope you like them! i really really REALLY want to finish them for you.

Fingers crossed I get to see you again soon my dear nsfw!anon 💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖

[jayflrt]

ooh could you do “still processing” and “thorned and torn apart” for the ask game!! 💕

hihi anon !! thank you for sending this ask 🤩🤩 both plots will be under the cut 🥰💖

still processing

idk why but i’m getting an angsty harry potter au vibe from this 😵‍💫

head prefect of gryffindor jake sim is probably the prime model of a perfect hogwarts student. now in his seventh year, jake has to choose between becoming an auror or taking on another ministry position, which is awfully tempting considering everyone tells him he’s bound to become the minister of magic one day.

yet, that might not be possible for jake because only a few ministry officials know of the deep amount of trouble he got into last year—so terrible that he could’ve gotten kicked out of hogwarts if the news spread further.

you and jake were friends since your first year at hogwarts. everyone knew you two were joint at the hip, but last year, you and jake started becoming more and more impulsive and risky, thinking you could get away with anything now that you two were more powerful wizards.

jake ended up sneaking out of campus grounds with you, unaware that death eaters were storming hogsmede. jake felt incredibly guilty for putting you in harm’s way, but he could think of no other way to sneak past the slew of death eaters without raising attention. plus, one was getting closer closer.

so, jake wound up using the imperius curse on the one death eater, and then he managed to slip away and get you both back to the safety of the gryffindor common room.

but, of course, you can’t use an unforgivable curse without facing consequences. you and jake were both taken to the ministry for a hearing and, considering the circumstances, they decided a fitting punishment would be to remove your memories of jake so that you two would not associate and run into trouble again, especially when jake had such a bright future ahead of him.

so, jake is tormented by seeing your face nearly every day, though you have no recollection of all the time and memories you spent with him.

but then, there are those moments where he catches you staring a little too long at him, or you’re at the owlery, brows furrowed in deep thought as the memories of you and jake playing around in there are just out of grasp.

jake wonders that maybe, just maybe, the spell they used didn’t remove your memories completely

thorned and torn apart

this one is giving 🤨🤨 Hmm friends to enemies to lovers i think !! OKAY an idea struck so look

you and riki are best friends and all is well until your respective best friends start dating. and yeah, this is fine and all, but when your friends break up, things get messy

you and riki aren’t exactly mature enough to separate their feelings from yours, and you two end up defending your respective friends to each other. this doesn’t end pretty and riki and you end up unfriending each other

however, your cat and mouse dynamic is unchanging, and riki and you end up becoming bitter and going back and forth with the incessant insults. at some point, even your friend thinks you two are taking it too far.

and you don’t really want to admit it, but you figured the reason you pushed yourself away from riki so much was because you saw how messy your friends’ breakup was and grew scared of ending up like them

riki doesn’t want to admit it either, but he feels the same way

send me a made-up fic title and i'll tell you what i would write to go with it