#it still happens even when its someone i like and would like to get to know better. about an event that means a lot and im very excited for

[peachdues]

Laughing at the “I rlly hope you aren’t a lawyer ://“ thing. I am! And guess what! Statutory interpretation is my specialty.

You know, I have to give you credit — I didn’t think it was possible for someone to so clearly misunderstand the post. But, thank you for making it clear that you have no idea how to read a law and its proposed amendments. Because my post was meant to draw the connections between the law as is and the amendments written in a high level, generalized format. And WOW, could you not manage to even follow that! Honestly, I would be impressed by that level of non-comprehension if you hadn’t been such a fucking amoeba about it.

The law very clearly is not limited to CSAM. That’s what “or” means. And my point still stands: the amendments will affect fiction. Any plain reading of the statute as it stands in conjunction with the amendments proposed would make that clear — then again, you don’t seem to have that degree of comprehension or critical thinking.

“Including but not limited to” does include written media. Point to where “visual” depictions is limited strictly to photographs? Screens? You can’t because it isn’t limited. And that’s intentional.

Do not quote the fucking Miller test to me. That language, when broken down, requires assessment not only of national standards but also community standards — so what happens when a local community decides trans representation is “obscene?” They get to restrict it. And, language added into subsection (E) makes that clear. Oklahoma’s standards will be used to determine what is and is not obscene.

Now, as I made clear in the comments, this bill likely won’t pass — it’s not meant to, and even if it does, it will be immediately challenged as unconstitutional. That is the goal. The quoted Miller language, however, is meant to be a trigger into the federal courts to review the law for overbreadth and or/vagueness. This current Supreme Court has no respect for stare decisis — if they have an opportunity to redefine “obscenity” or even punt it back to the states, they will.

I sincerely hope you’re not too tired expending your last few brain cells typing such an asinine, offensive, and poorly argued reply. The point of my post is to call attention to the fact that this law is written vaguely enough to be stretched to written materials — something that apparently went right over your head because you do not possess the level of discernment necessary to understand that. This bill is the beginning, not the end. They are testing the waters, but the goal is very much to restrict ALL forms of adult content in ALL media. If you cannot understand that, then you are willfully ignorant and you are blinded by your own hubris.

For all those who complain about explicit “smutty” books or smut in fic in general:

Just be aware that a bill has been introduced in Oklahoma’s state senate (SB 593) that would make writing/publishing/owning an explicit romance book a felony.

So, when you come on here to espouse your “anti pro-ship” nonsense, or moan about how hard it is to find fics/art/books that aren’t “smutty” — know that this is the effect. You are being used as mouthpieces to help feed and perpetuate censorship. There is no room for censorship in fiction because it will never stop at what you deem morally “right”. It is about control and the restriction of speech. Your discomfort with sex in media does not make it wrong, and it certainly doesn’t mean you get to advocate for its restriction.

Do not be pawns in the far-right’s game. Do not call yourselves allys of any kind if you are willingly feeding into a pillar of far right extremism. It will not stop where you think it “should.”

[wintergrofyuri]

does anyone else think about this every day

LIKE. the way she words it. the way she stabs you, the way her hand is positioned. her expression. the desperation and determination. the way to get here, you have to stab yourself when spectre possesses you. the way this can end with Her stabbing You to take you back.

every princess is alone. lonely. separated, from others, from you, from herself. the long quiet is her only companion and she is pit against them. heavily discouraged from even Speaking to her. and if that Does happen, she Still tries so hard to reach out. she asks you politely. she is still angry, but she is willing to let the past be the past in favor of teamwork. companionship. someone to actually listen to her. and when it happens AGAIN, she STILL is willing to forgive you. for the same damn thing.

the tear between the shifting mound and the long quiet was traumatic for both of them. they may not remember, but they still feel that emptiness. they are, subconsciously or not, trying so hard to return to each other. but whatever they try it still never lasts. its tragic. she is ripped away from you, you are ripped away from her. and it was intentional!!! the tear is jagged and messy and hurtful On Purpose. not maliciously (i dont think) but still. the narrator Did Not Care how traumatic this would be for the entities he was creating.

its just. ugh. the loneliness and the desperation and the little moments of respite and the way the shifting mound so desperately tries to convince you to stay with her, be with her, leave with her. together. the way she says her heart has ached for this moment. they can never truly go back to what they once were. and it hurts them both. but they can still stay close to each other in different ways. and she tries so hard to convince you.

What once was one, then was two, and then was one again. kill me oh my GOD

[merrinla]

Tricked the game and brought Lucanis to fight the dragon in Minrathous. Despite the fact he shouldn't be there, he has his own comment that naturally works. Neve, on the contrary, doesn't have a single line during the attack on Treviso even in the cut content. I wonder if the city choice was always planned. Because I can't imagine the circumstances under which Lucanis would save Minrathous instead of his city.

When the player has to choose which city to help, two blighted dragons are mentioned. But in Minrathous, everyone is still surprised by the blight.

Rook (Grey Warden): She's blighted! And the blight feels really weird—the gods corrupted her! Davrin: I feel it, too! We didn't plan on her being blighted—how should we handle this? Davrin: She's blighted! There's a strange feeling to it—the gods corrupted her! Tarquin: It's covered with blight, Rook! The gods corrupted the thing! Bellara: We didn't expect a blighted dragon! What do we do now? Neve: Blight! That's unexpected. What should we do? Lucanis: Blight was unexpected. What should we do? Harding: We weren't expecting blight! Now what do we do? Rook: What we came to do!

Lucanis also has a line in the cut dialogue when the dragon was flying away from Minrathous. More like generic, but also voiced and the condition state that he must be in the party.

Rook: We got it! She feels that! Rook: Come on! How do we keep it here? Rook (Grey Warden): The blight I feel in her is so… wrong! Davrin: It feels so strong. The gods will control her eventually. Davrin: The blight I feel in her is so wrong. Rook: That screech. What the gods did to her is just unnatural. Bellara: She's going to be a problem in the future. Harding: There's no way she's gone for good. Neve: She's going to be a problem in the future. Lucanis: She's going to be a problem in future. Rook: We need someone who knows dragons. Who can keep it in reach. Rook: We need someone who knows dragons. Rook: Come on, let's check in with Maevaris and Tarquin.

Previously the Venatori summoned the dragon through a ritual. This was mentioned by Maevaris, who met Rook upon arrival in Minrathous.

Rook: Okay, let's hope the Shadow Dragons have the lay of the land. Maevaris: Never doubt it, Rook. Rook: Good to hear. Maevaris: Tarquin and the others have the Venatori isolated. Rook: And the dragon? Maevaris: The Venatori prepared a ritual to call it. We don't know how far they got. Maevaris: Pick your team and join Tarquin. The rest of us will keep the Venatori away. Maevaris: Get going, Rook. Knowing Tarquin, he's probably getting antsy.

Conversation with Tarquin near the dragon arena was different.

Tarquin: We really kicked the hive, Rook. The Venatori aren't going to make this easy. Rook: Suggestions? Tarquin: Jump in and kick harder. And get ready to stare down a dragon. Tarquin: We're not letting the cult hand it over to the gods. Tarquin: You ready to jump in, Rook?

Dunno if Tarquin took part in the arena fight, but he had quite a bit of commentary on what was happening.

Tarquin: We're keeping them scattered! And we're going to kill their toy when it arrives Tarquin: Keep up the assault! We can take this from them! Tarquin: Get ready, Rook! Dragon's on its way! Tarquin: Rook! We have a problem! The dragon! Tarquin: Dumat's breath, what have they done? Venatori Commander: They mean to stop us! Your Lord demands death! Rook (Shadow Dragon): And the Shadow Dragons demand you shut it! Rook: Not with Shadow Dragons at our backs! Venatori Commander: Witness! Witness the handiwork of immortals! Rook: We still good, Tarquin? Tarquin: No! But if it was going to be easy, we wouldn't need you! Venatori Commander: The beast comes! It will serve!

The battle with the dragon was divided into two phases. We see the first one in the game. The second one was cut. Under Tarquin's direction, Rook had to avoid the dragon's attacks and deal with the Venatori who controlled it.

Tarquin: The Shadow Dragons will give us some guidance! Tarquin: Get this right, and you drive that thing off and keep the city safe! Rook: And if we get it wrong? Tarquin: Won't live long enough to regret it! Tarquin: All right, Rook! Watch the Shadow Dragons, they'll give direction! Tarquin: Get it right, take it down—and the city's safe! Rook: And if we get it wrong? Tarquin: Regret's only for the living! Tarquin: You can't hurt it! Focus on the cultists! Tarquin: The dragon's too strong to fight—we have to drive it off! Tarquin: It can't be hurt! Break the cult's control! Tarquin: No use fighting it! We have to drive it away! Tarquin: Get after the Venatori, not the dragon! Tarquin: Got a problem here, but you can still fix it! Tarquin: They're rallying! Keep at it! Tarquin: Just a small setback—you can recover! Tarquin: We're with you! Give it another shot! Tarquin: Keep at it! You can try again! Tarquin: Keep going! You're on the right track! Tarquin: That's the way! Tarquin: You're doing it right! Tarquin: It's going well! Tarquin: You got this! Tarquin: You're tearing it up! Tarquin: The Venatori can't believe you're a match for it! Tarquin: You're beating it! Tarquin: This is the fight we needed to see!

After the dragon fight, Rook could talk to Maevaris and Tarquin.

Maevaris: Just head back the way you came. We'll see you safely back to your Lighthouse. Tarquin (Rook Shadow Dragon): Well done, Shadow Dragon. Makes me wish you'd never left to hunt down that elf. We could use more of you around here. Tarquin: That was impressive, Rook. Gallus was right about you. Tarquin: The Viper enjoyed causing chaos among the Venatori. Maybe a little too much. Rook: I didn't see the Viper. Tarquin: He enjoys that, too. Also a little too much. Tarquin: Another time, Rook.

According to the naming in the code, there should be Elgar'nan in Minrathous, not Ghilan'nain.

There are also cut lines from Rook and Neve.

Minrathous is saved Rook: Elgar'nan wasn't getting his way and he didn't want to waste a dragon. Coward. Minrathous isn't saved Rook: Yes, I'm a Shadow Dragon. And I thought the Shadow Dragons could handle this. Neve: The Venatori? Elgar'nan and his blighted creature? All at once?

So the meeting with him should have happened earlier.

Meanwhile, not much cut content in Treviso under attack. Rook told Teia who was behind the dragon. And it seems Lucanis was helping the crows fight off the Antaam while Rook and the others were in the arena with the dragon.

Rook: You should know, we think the dragon was sent by the gods. Teia: Is that why it never attacked any Antaam? Teia: All those lies about protecting Treviso, and then they sell themselves to monsters. Teia: Lucanis and I will repel them. The rest of you must focus on the dragon.

Teia: It's wounded! Lucanis: Then we strike harder! Teia: The Crows rule Antiva! Lucanis: And Treviso will be free!

[cloudgirlsonfilm]

just answering these all on my own for hitorei because im thinking about them... :] (also gonna be focusing on lili as opposed to myself but some answers might be about me val ^^)

1. rei reminds me of many! snakes, peacocks, tanukis, foxes, hawks... anything flashy or elusive. hitoya is like a bulldog to me

2. me personally i'd give hitoya a gift card to some high-end steakhouse. or a bottle of scotch. and i'd give rei a pie to the face or perhaps rocks. lili might give him something slightly better but idk what

3. i don't know if hitoya lili OR rei have hobbies 💀💀 they're all too employed for that (and rei... is rei). THOUGH i do think hitoya wanted to do magic tricks at a point? it'd be cute if he still knew some tricks and taught them to lili, and then she uses the sleight of hand on rei to make him laugh... lili and rei used to read together a lot when they first became a couple too

4. hitoya sweeps dusts vacuums washes dishes you name it. i think he's very clean, and would make sure to stay on top of it even if he's run thin from work (just more distraction from The Feelings). rei leaves a mess in his wake

5. both of them yes. bonus points for hitoya for (probably) being able to drive a motorcycle too

6. unsure... i think hitolili both use very generic ones, rei has a special ringtone for lili that he like.. recorded himself or something so its unmistaken

7. hitoya would if a situation called for it, rei would if a situation called for it but he's manufacturing the situation himself so he can logically argue with someone online and then get something out of them

8. i think hitoya would seem outwardly stressed by the idea, but actually be very accepting of it (guy who has probably sat through kuko talking about reincarnation). to me rei is the opposite, outwardly indulges the idea but secretly feels stressed or even forlorn about it

9. OH GODDD lili probably gets mixed reviews when introducing rei because everyone can tell there's something about those two that needs to stay in containment

10. receiving a hug from behind in the kitchen or laying in bed together

11. idfk. old woman yaoi

12. hitoya i think is a silvery purple, rei i associate with dark red and gold

13. hitoya introduces lili as a good friend (no one believes him, which she's amused by), rei introduces lili as a drinking buddy of sorts (not exactly wrong, but it frustrates her)

14. if they're not perceiving lili as a doggirl what's the point...

15. hitoya would take lili out to dinner, rei would take lili out for drinks

16. hitoya/rei probably don't consciously think of any pet names for lili... rei calls her 'baby' all the time, but he calls a lot of girls 'baby' LOL. just saying lili's name makes him flustered though

17. hitoya likes sitting in the same room and doing seperate things, rei likes drinking (a given) and engaging in hands-on things together (he strikes me as a type to enjoy mixing vegetables while the other chops them, or doing lego sets together [first hands-on thing i could think of 😭😭😭 but tbh he probably needs that instead of inventing crazy shit])

18. hitoya shows it best through staying by lili's side, trying to be of some comfort, providing her with a place to stay when she needs to fall back on someone. rei shows it best through indirect actions-- ordering in food without being asked to, placing elaborate gift bags on the counter for lili to find later, putting her through a busy day so she feels alive again. lili also has a very weak spot for whenever rei talks really smooth

19. hitoya likes lili's eyes and lips, rei likes her legs and her freckles (her legs happen to have a lot of distinctive moles too)

20. i love how compassionate hitoya is, even if he doesn't give himself the credit that he is!! i love his conviction and his dedication to helping others find justice, peace and joy. rei i love for very opposite reasons LMAO i like that he's elusive and scheming. but i also like how he has a very obvious soft side no matter how much he tries to play the bad guy, but i ALSO like that this cruelly blends into all the bad things he's done. i like how complex he is...

21. i think hitoya's drawing of lili would be kind of sharp, brick-like, and i think she'd laugh and say it's kind of abstract in a way (this is not at all what he intended). i think rei's would be a little more realistic, maybe even scarily so, but i think he'd struggle to make it not look like a scientific plan of sorts (which would make lili roll her eyes a little)

22. yes. hitoya might complain about how big of a bite is taken, rei orders extras to make sure no one goes hungry

23. hitoya associates lili with blue (her uniform) and salmon (her favourite colour), rei associates her with pink (her affiliation with chuo and it's close to her favourite colour, also a colour she used to wear a lot of)

F/O Ask Game!!

A list of questions to answer about your f/o!! You guys can just go down the list and answer them all (I'd love to see it!!!) in a reblog, orrr you can reblog and have others ask you these questions in your inbox! Have fun!! PR.OSHI.P, NOT FOR YOU!

What animal does your f/o remind you of?

If you got your f/o a gift, what would you get them? 

What is your favorite hobby to think about doing with your f/o?

What chores would your f/o do around the house? Are there any they REALLY dislike?

Would you trust your f/o to drive a car?

What kind of ringtone or notification sound would you have for your f/o?

Would your f/o fight someone online? 

Does your f/o believe in soulmates?

How would you introduce your f/o to your friends? How do you think that would go? 

What's the first scenario that comes to your head when you think of being with your f/o?

What dynamic would you use to describe you and your f/o? 

What color do you associate with your f/o? 

How would your f/o introduce you to those they care about? How do you think that would go?

What animal do you remind your f/o of?

What would your f/o get you for Valentine's day, if anything? 

What does your f/o call you in their head? What do they call you aloud/to others?

What does your f/o like doing with you the most? 

How does your f/o show their love best? 

What's your f/o's favorite feature of yours?

What're your f/o's favorite personality traits of yours?

If your f/o drew you, how would you describe the art piece?

Does your f/o share food with you?

What color would your f/o associate you with?

What?? Who's tagging their friends again?- not me... I just really wanna see yalls answers. Formal invitation lest you become worried I don't wanna see it. @jpeg-indulgence @starshakez @moxanji-real @frankys-wife @katsenbergs-soulmate @katanahusband @fl0ralsxgar @one-winged-dreams AND LITERALLY ANYONE WHO SEES THIS.

[bestruction]

Uchiha's symbol

Summary: You surprise him by wearing the clan's symbol

Warnings: a tiny bit suggestive

Sasuke stood near the door, pulling his cloak over his shoulders as he waited for you to finish getting ready. He was used to you taking your time, especially now that you were six months pregnant and fussier about how your clothes fit. Still, he wasn’t expecting you to walk out of their room in that.

The dress was a deep red, clinging to your curves in a way that left little to the imagination while still being elegant. It flared slightly around your hips, emphasizing your growing belly, and ended above your knees. Your hair was pinned back, exposing your glowing face.

You looked radiant, almost ethereal.

Sasuke's dark eyes trailed over your form, lingering on your belly before snapping back to your face. "You’re wearing that out?" he asked, his voice even, though his throat felt oddly tight.

You smirked at him, brushing past him to grab your bag. "Why not? You don’t like it?"

He didn’t respond, which only made your grin wider.

He liked it way too much to leave the house now.

"Wait," You said, stopping in the middle of the room. "You haven’t even seen the best part."

You turned slowly, holding your hair up so your back was fully exposed. That’s when he saw it—stitched onto the fabric, just between her shoulder blades, was the unmistakable red-and-white fan of the Uchiha clan symbol.

Sasuke blinked, his expression unreadable as his eyes fixated on the emblem. His silence stretched long enough for you to glance over your shoulder, suddenly feeling nervous.

"Do you... like it?" You asked softly, her voice almost hesitant.

He stepped closer, his fingers grazing the fabric of the dress just below the symbol. His touch was so light you barely felt it, but the weight of his gaze sent shivers down her spine. He never thought he would see someone else wearing this so proudly.

"People will glare at you on the streets," he said quietly, his voice softer than usual.

After everything that happened, the Uchiha name carried the curse of whispers around the village. Most people didn't agree with letting an ex-criminal wander around.

You nodded, turning to face him fully. "I wanted to show you that I’m proud to be part of your clan... our clan. And—" You glanced down at her belly with a soft smile. "—I wanted our baby to know it too."

Sasuke’s expression softened, a rare, tender look crossing his face. He reached out, his hands settling on your waist as he pulled her closer.

"You didn’t have to," he said, his voice low, but there was a warmth there that you didn’t miss.

"I wanted to," You whispered, standing on your toes to kiss his cheek.

He let out a quiet sigh, his forehead resting against yours for a moment before he pulled back slightly. "You look so beautiful," he admitted, his hands briefly caressing your bump.

You couldn’t help but laugh softly. "I’ll take that as your approval."

"Hn," he murmured, a faint smirk tugging at his lips. Then, with a rare playful edge in his tone, he added, "But you should probably wear a cloak over it or we won't leave the house so soon." He said sliding a few kisses on your jawline, right where it made you close your eyes.

You laughed again, swatting at his chest as he started pulling up the skirt of your dress. "Don't you dare, Sasuke Uchiha. I just got ready"

"You can keep the dress on" he replied simply, pressing a kiss on your neck. You felt your beck reach the wall and chuckled at how eager he was.

"Naruto is waiting for us." You reminded him and yourself, feeling your body get warmer by the way he caressed your thighs. He smirked at you and gently turned you to face the wall. Sasuke's gaze fell on the clan symbol on your back again.

His long fingers found its way to under your dress, raising the skirt enough to expose your panties. Honestly, he had to hold himself to not cum just by looking at you in that position with the fucking symbol of his clan on your back. It made some possessive part of his brain go insane.

"He can wait"

It's all he says before grinding his bulge on you, and yes, you two arrived in Naruto's house very late.

[yunazxxx]

BABY WHILE WE’RE YOUNG —

lara rajagoplan x daniela avanzini

this content contains the following : fluff, kinda loser daniela, established relationship (more of a situationship but gfs nonetheless), daniela’s kinda shy in this, cursing in some parts, etc maybe???

author chats? : this was sitting in my drafts for a while.. but i only posted it for someone but i also wanted everyone to be able to read this and yeah! enjoy this random lariela valentines day coded fic <3 — dont mind if the story is literal ASS i havent wrote in so long and i just remembered i had this to finish so ..

word count ? : 1.2k

—

the moonlight filled the sky along with the stars, above a random shopping center in the main city. inside of the store you would see a blonde woman who was busy inside of a certain section.

she had been there for at least an hour now, worried if she could make this perfect for her “friend” but at the same time scared that she’d completely screw it up.

actually, denial was the only thing on her mind. she was worried she’d mess it up so bad and the girl would tell her no, daniela knew her for years at this point.

she knew everything that lara liked, everything she ever wanted but was still scared she’d mess something up, somehow.

just the previous night, they were cuddled up and kissing on each other but lara had left early that morning to record, basically she’d be busy all day which left daniela alone with her thoughts.

she laid in bed contemplating whether she should ask her to be her valentine, or not. you see, she’d always second guess herself or her anxiety gets really bad when she does ask.

and there’s times she’d just text it instead of saying it to lara’s face, but majority of it would be exactly to her face. now she’s found herself in a overly crowded shopping center, buying things for the same woman who she’s been trying to ask out since the start of the month.

it was the 6th, she had time to wait and you know, get herself together but she wanted to already have it before someone else ran to ask her.

they’re relationship was also, really complicated. they were together, but not together. its really childish, they know but they have their reasons on why they aren’t exactly “official” but neither of them really care for labels.

but here she was, again standing in another section, staring into the souls of one of the teddy bears, questioning whether she get that or something she knew in her heart lara would actually love.

she went with what she knew though, with her heart. she got everything she knew the red haired woman would love before buying it, she was walking out of the store when her phone began to ring.

it was lara, she answered the call and continued to walk. daniela found out that lara was already home and was preparing their plans for the night before daniela told her to stop.

“why’d you say not to? did you get called in today?” lara asked, her voice more questioning and almost angry? daniela took a breath before just explaining, “no but i have a different idea”

daniela kind of lied and said that she’d get lara when it was time, and told her some little white lie that they’d be going out with friends and lara agreed.

see, it was all innocent intentions. daniela knew how stressed lara had been recently, and she had been talking about scheduling an outing with their friends so they all could destress but that wasn't what was actually gonna happen.

daniela sped to her home and began decorating, of course it was normal for boyfriends/gilfriends to hire a decorator for these kinds of events or you know, whatever but daniela wanted to do this herself because she wanted to make it more special.

daniela got all of lara's favorite colors and began putting together the basket and everything she prepared for her. she lined the lights up and even lit candles, getting lara's favorite scents too. daniela wrapped the basket up after and once she made sure everything was how she wanted it, she left to pick up lara.

while daniela drove to lara's place, the redhead was texting asking the dress code but daniela simply said "come as you are" and lara did. she was only deressed in her sweats and a random hoodie daniela had left over that still smelled like the blonde.

once daniela pulled up, lara was outside and made her way to the car. daniela opened the door for her and greeted her girlfriend with a sweet kiss and a hug.

lara was still under the impression that they were hanging out with friends so she was prepared for any shenanigans that the rest of the friend group might be on for the night.

that was until they pulled up to daniela’s house, but the blonde said she had to get something but asked lara to follow her in.

daniela more so ran into the house and did one last check around before the redhead made it to the threshold, where she read the words that were plastered on the living room wall.

“will you be my valentine?” and there was a little arrow that pointed towards daniela holding the basket with a smile on her face.

lara’s hands covered her mouth while her heart began pounding, almost beating against her chest like it wanted to break out.

daniela, on the other hand, was nervous to say the least. she was shaking while lara walked up to her, the redheads soft lips came into contact with hers before she whispered “yes” against daniela’s neck.

the blonde woman couldn’t contain her happiness and just hugged the redhead, kissing her again. lara’s mind was blown, but then she remembered why they were even here.

“i thought we were-“ but daniela cut her off “no, that wasn’t actually happening, you see..” and daniela explained the situation. lara just smiled as daniela spoke, admiring the latina woman while she spoke.

“i love you” lara said, her voice was low but daniela caught it, “i love you too” after a little while daniela asked, “wanna know whats in the basket?”

and of course, lara nodded, which daniela began to show her and explaining the literal hell she put herself through just picking one item alone but it was a huge basket filled with different things she knew lara liked.

lara was obviously grateful for this and looked daniela in her eyes while she spoke, “but you know what i would’ve loved so much more?”

and daniela just looked at her, it wasn’t like she didn’t know but she wanted her to say it. “just you, and a day, i love all of this, so much but you didn’t have to decorate and stress yourself so much baby”

lara was really worried about daniela because she knew she was hella nervous during this but the blonde shook her head. “nono because the nights not over yet, come up” and she took lara’s hand taking her upstairs.

“follow the roses” lara read off a sign that daniela hand-made. the indian woman obviously followed it, looking at the ground seeing the roses and it led up to daniela’s room, where she had almost everything they had been speaking about for the last two weeks easy.

lara had always wanted to match outfits and off color each others clothes so daniela got outfits so they could wear them on valentines day.

lara looked around for the latina before she came out with a huge smile, hugging the indian woman and pushing her on the bed. they both were just a giggling mess before the giggles turned into a kiss and overtime it just led to the pure silence of the house, small noise coming from daniela’s speaker while she and lara cuddled for the remainder of the night.

—

[stnkiconverse]

HI ITS YOUR GIRL SWANONNN

im interested in sum....enemies to lovers.... with toby....

-🦢

Enemies to Lovers - Ticci Toby x Proxy!Reader

- You and Toby are oil and water from the start. His sharp tongue and impulsiveness immediately put you on edge, while your no-nonsense attitude only fuels his irritation.

- He has a knack for throwing off your focus, his muttered sarcasm or outright refusal to collaborate during missions always sends your blood boiling.

- "For someone who talks so b-big, you're pretty bad at k-keeping up," he'd mock after outrunning you in the field.

- "And for someone who's so 'skilled’ you sure love making my job harder," you'd shoot back.

- The tension comes to a head during a high-stakes mission.
His recklessness forces you to cover for him, leaving you both bruised and pissed.

- You corner him afterward, chest heaving as you shout, "Do you even care that you almost got us both killed?!"

- Toby's jaw tightens, his usual smirk absent. "I didn't a-ask you to save me." His words sting, but his tone is more defensive than combative, like you've hit a nerve.

- After that mission, something shifts. You start noticing things about him you hadn't before, how his hands shake when he's still for too long or the way he fiddles with a small, battered notebook when he thinks no one's watching.

- One night, you find him sitting alone on the porch, hood pulled low as he stares at the stars.

- Instead of walking past, you sit down beside him. He doesn't look at you, but he doesn't move away either.

- "W-why do you care so m-much?" he asks quietly after a long silence.

- The vulnerability in his voice catches you off guard.

- Slowly, the hostility between you softens. Toby starts listening to you during missions (mostly 🥲), and you stop snapping at him over every little thing.

- He begins showing up in your space more often, dropping little jokes or leaning against the wall as if daring you to tell him to leave.

- You catch him sketching once, his natepad open to a rough but surprisingly detailed drawing of a bird. He notices you staring and slams it shut, cheeks flushing slightly. "W-what? Never seen someone d-draw before?"

- During another dangerous encounter, you get hurt protecting him. For once, Toby doesn't crack a joke or brush it off. Instead, he's frantic, hands clumsy as he tries to stop the bleeding.

- "Why the hell w-would you do t-that?" he demands, voice shaking. You can't tell if he's angry or scared.

- "Because l'm not going to let you get yourself killed," you reply, and for a moment, he just stares at you, something unreadable in his expression.

- After that, Toby becomes noticeably more protective. He doesn't say anything outright, but he's always nearby, watching your back during missions and lingering a little longer in your shared spaces.

- The teasing doesn't stop, but it changes, less biting, more playful. He starts calling you nicknames that are just annoying enough to make you roll your eyes but secretly make your chest tighten.

- One rainy evening, he invites you to sit with him on the porch.

- "Y-you're quieter than I thought you'd b-be," he says after a while, the corners of his lips twitching up in a small smile.

- It's not a grand, all-out moment, Toby isn't that kind of guy.

- Instead, it happens during a quiet night in the aftermath of another mission.

- "You kn-know," he says, not meeting your eyes as he fidgets with a loose thread on his sleeve, "y-you're not as bad as I th-thought."

- You laugh. "High praise coming from you."

- He finally looks at you, his expression unusually serious. "I mean it. You... you make all this c-crap a little easier to d-deal with."

- The kiss that follows is skeptical at first, as if neither of you can believe it's actually happening.

- But when he pulls back, there's a fondness in his eyes that makes your heart ache.

- Toby doesn't change totally, he's still brash, sarcastic, and occasionally infuriating.

- But he's also fiercely loyal, sticking close to you and showing his care in subtle ways, like leaving snacks outside your door or quietly patching you up after missions.

- "G-guess you're stuck with m-me now," he says one day, his smirk as annoying as ever.

- But the way he squeezes your hand tells you he means it in a way he doesn't know how to put into words.

SWANON IM SO SORRY FOR MAKING U WAIT THIS LONG😔😔

[star-spangled-rogers]

Steve's eyes were full of vulnerability. He cupped Skall's cheek, kissing him back. "God I love you. So much." He kissed his forehead. "I don't know what will happen between Bucky and I but...I have to find out. You take your shower baby okay my love?"

With that he went to Bucky's room. He took a deep breath and exhaled, trying to collect his thoughts. He gently knocked on the door.

Bucky looked up from one of his comics. "Come in?"

Steve opened the door. "Hey man, what's goin on?"

"Not much. Just reading a comic the spider kid lended me."

Steve chuckled. "Such a nerd."

"What are you doing here?" Bucky asked curiously.

"I live here." Steve chuckled. "But if you mean what am I doing in your room, I wanted to talk to you about something."

"Oh? Am I im trouble?" he snickered, putting the comic book down.

Steve rolled his eyes, closing the door behind him. "No. It's um personal." He sat sown on the corner of his bed.

Bucky raised a brow. "About what?"

Steve sighed, unsure how to start this conversation. "Skall and I are married right? And we're having a baby..."

"Yeah...?" Bucky said.

"Well...its come to my attention that even though we are married I can date other people...."

Bucky chuckled. "Where are you going with this Rogers?"

"I have no idea....nevermind this stupid..."

"No wait. I want to know."

Steve sighed. "Skall pointed out that...we...you and I...might have feelings for each other...like romantically..." His ears were burning red with embarrassment and shyness.

Bucky froze, his eyes widening. He looked away. "Well he must be crazy because I don't...." he lied. "Besides I have my date with Kat..." He didnt say it with his full chest.

"Bucky...I've known you for a hundred years...I know when you're lying..." Steve said sternly.

Bucky glared at him. "Oh so what you're saying is that I'm secretly in love with you?"

"It's no secret if my husband caught on..." Steve shrugged. "Bucky...this is new for me too...but...I'm willing to give us a shot if you are...." His cheeks turned red.

Bucky scoffed. "You're married, having a kid. That's what you said. Why would I want to be with you if someone already has you?"

"It's called polyamorous, Bucky." Steve said. "It's pretty common....there's nothing to be ashamed about..."

Bucky gave him a harsh look but Steve still didn't look away. He knew when Bucky was full of shit, trying to hide his true emotions. Steve glanced down at Bucky's hand. He scooted closer, cautiously curling his fingers around Bucky's.

Bucky froze. He looked down at their hands. It didnfeel nice... "Steve..."

"I know the hell you been through Bucky...What Hydra put you through...but you don't have to keep running, pretending. Not with me. Just...think about it okay?"

He went to get up but Bucky didn't let go.

Steve looked down at their hands still together. "Stay?" Bucky asked, his voice small and quiet.

Steve nodded and laid down next to him. Bucky curled up against him, practically clinging to him, shaking.

"Hey it's alright, Bucky just relax...."

@star-spangled-rogers

Skallagrim grinned as he flipped the steaks on the grill "that sounds like Bucky is here, you better go answer the door." Skallagrim says slapping cap on the ass.

[mrspiastri]

Hey could you write something about franco colapinto & desi reader?

dilwale dulhania le jayenge 👰🏻‍♀️

pairing: franco colapinto x desi!reader

cw: fluff, annoying parents, sorry to all nikhil’s

wc: 2.7k words

an: ty anon!! hope u like this <4

.° ｡𖦹˚ 𓇼 ｡𖦹° ｡. .° ｡𖦹˚ 𓇼 ｡𖦹° ｡. .° ｡𖦹˚ 𓇼 ｡𖦹° ｡. .° ｡

Franco stood outside the hotel room, suitcase in one hand and phone in the other. After years of frequent travel, he had mastered the art of packing. He was very good at it, having managed to pack a week's worth of clothing and necessities into a small carry-on.

He rode the elevator down to the lobby and decided to head to the check-out desk. A big sign inviting people to a ballroom caught his attention as he passed. Although he did not enter, the extravagant décor was visible from his position—crystal chandeliers, towering floral arrangements, and all the trimmings. Perhaps it was a bachelor party?

“Is there an event happening tonight?” he inquired of the receptionist.

The man smiled knowingly. “Indeed, there is. A wedding. Quite a lavish occasion.

“They’ve reserved most of the hotel for the week. Remarkably, we almost had no rooms available for outside guests.”

Franco nodded politely, gathered his belongings, and stepped out into the warm evening air. As always, the most challenging aspect of any trip was its conclusion—leaving behind the Maldives’ pristine white sand beaches and tranquil waters to return to Monaco.

He had just taken out his phone to request a cab when a sharp, panicked scream pierced the stillness.

🪹🪹🪹

Something, or rather, someone, exploded through the lobby doors in a flurry of red silk before he could react.

He saw a woman in a lavish wedding dress running toward him, her heels clicking madly on the sidewalk, a duffel bag gripped tightly in one hand.

“Hey! You, by the car—wait!” she called out, breathless.

The whispers inside the hotel became a full-fledged commotion.

She arrived at him in a matter of seconds, her wide eyes looking back toward the entrance as her chest rose and fell quickly. She was struggling because of the weight of her dress, her matching red headpiece tangled in dark curls, and those godforsaken heels.

Her words came out quickly as she said, "Okay, I realize this is utterly insane. But could I—could I catch a ride? Please?”

Franco blinked in surprise.

She shifted her weight from one foot to the other and laughed nervously. Oh no, you think I'm crazy, don't you?” She snapped her fingers in front of him before he could react.

“I promise I’m not a threat! I just— I really need to get out of here. Like, right this minute.” She shot a glance over her shoulder.

“I’m, um… heading to the airport,” he finally replied.

Her expression brightened with relief. “That’s perfect! The airport is exactly where I need to be. Thank you!”

Before he could even suggest she take a seat, she had already darted into the cab, struggling to fit her voluminous dress inside.

“Could you help a bit?” she asked, gesturing to the layers of fabric that seemed to have a mind of their own.

Franco shook his head and assisted in pushing the dress in, tucking her red veil as well before sliding in beside her.

The driver glanced at them through the rearview mirror but, decided it was none of his concern simply started the engine.

The woman let out a sharp breath, pulling off her heels with a grimace. “Ugh, these hurt like a bitch,” she muttered, then turned to Franco with a shy smile. “And, um, thanks for helping me make my escape.”

He still looked a bit dazed. “Oh, it’s nothing… just doing what I can, I suppose.”

She let out a light laugh, running her fingers through her curls. “Right. Just another day of saving runaway brides.”

She reached up to take off her veil, but it was caught in her hair. “Fuck this won’t come off, I can’t see back there. Would you mind helping?”

Franco paused for a moment before leaning over to assist. As he carefully untangled the knots, he suddenly became aware of how close they were. The cab felt smaller, and he caught a hint of jasmine from her hair, noticing how her fingers nervously tapped against her dress.

It felt almost dreamlike. Here he was, in the back of a cab, aiding a stranger— a runaway bride— in freeing herself from a veil as if it were just another ordinary day.

“Are you finished?” she asked softly, pulling him from his thoughts.

He quickly fumbled with the fabric, freeing it and handing it back to her.

“By the way, I’m Y/N. I probably should’ve introduced myself instead of surprising you like this, but here we are.” She chuckled a hint of relief in her voice. Franco grinned, still a bit bewildered. “Franco. Great to meet you, even if it’s in such… unexpected circumstances.”

She let out a laugh. “Yeah, sorry about that. I promise that I don't typically force my way into people's lives. Just—desperate times, you know?”

Franco nodded, intrigued. “So that was your wedding happening back there?”

Y/N groaned, leaning back against the seat. “Yep. Unfortunately.” After a moment, she added, “You probably think I’m terrible for leaving, right?”

"Well..." Franco shrugged. "I do not know the man."

“Good news! He’s a jerk.” She sighed heavily. “And so is the rest of his family.”

Franco frowned. “Then why did you agree to marry him?”

Y/N's fingers drummed nervously on her knee while she bit her lip. "I had no other option. My parents pushed for it. It was either marry him or take over the family business, and…” She waved her hand in frustration. “I tried to resist, but they wouldn’t budge. I decided to take charge of my own life as a result.

She winced as she looked at her phone and saw the plethora of missed calls. Anxiously, her foot started tapping the ground.

“Are they trying to reach you?” Franco asked.

“Oh, absolutely.” She turned the phone face down, hiding it from view. “Yaar, I just—I just can't deal with that at the moment."

She inhaled deeply and feigned a hesitant smile. I should be panicking, right? I mean, I just bolted from my wedding. I have no clue what comes next. But…” A small, breathless laugh escaped her. "To be honest, I'm a little excited."

She put a palm to her chest as though to calm herself, and Franco watched her.

"This is the wildest thing I've ever done," she admitted, turning to face him, "and I'm not even sure that it's the best decision, but it feels right. For the first time in years, I feel like I'm doing something for myself."

After watching her for a while, Franco grinned. “Well, Y/N If you're going to make a run for it, at least you did it in style." The car hummed quietly as they accelerated towards the airport, the city lights dissolving into flashes of colour in the darkness. With her fingers tapping rapidly against the duffel bag on her lap, Y/N stared out the window.

Despite the occasional buzzing on her phone, she chose not to check it. Franco noticed her diversion.

He asked, looking at her phone, "Are you sure you don't want to see what's going on?"

She sighed and paused, then flipped it over. Missed calls and messages, largely from her mother, a couple from her father, and one from her almost-husband filled the screen in a frenzied chaos.

After locking the phone and putting it back in her bag, she said, "Nope. I don't want to deal with that at the moment."

Franco's eyebrows went up. "Not even the slightest bit interested?"

She sneered, "Oh, I can guess what they're saying. My mom is probably in a frenzy. My dad is already calculating the impact on the family's reputation. And Nikh—” She paused, rolling her eyes. “I’d wager his message just says, ‘You’ll regret this.’”

Franco chuckled. “Does he seem like the type to just let it slide?”

Y/N let out a humorless laugh. “Definitely not. He’s probably already scheming to make my life a living nightmare. But that’s a problem for another day.”

A quiet tension filled the space between them, charged with unasked questions.

“So,” Franco finally broke the silence, turning to face her. “What’s the plan?”

Y/N blinked in confusion. “Plan?”

“Yeah. You just made a dramatic exit from your wedding, you’re in a different country, and you’ve got, what—one bag?”

She nodded.

“And you have no idea what to do next?”

She hesitated. “Not… really, no.”

Franco let out a soft laugh. “That’s quite the bold move.”

With a sigh, Y/N covered her face with her hands. "Yes, I am aware. This is absurd. To be honest, I should have given this more thought, but I was so caught up with figuring out how to get out of the wedding in the first place.”

Franco gave a small laugh. "I can't say I've never dashed out of a wedding in a huge ball gown, but why not?"

Y/N leaned back against the seat and sighed deeply. "Well, congrats. You are staring at a woman who has no bags, no plan, and no idea what she will do next.”

He looked at her pensively for a while. “So, where were you meant to go after the wedding?”

“Back to Florence.” She bit her lip nervously. “I— I live there. I work at the Museo Nazionale del Bargello. I’m a museum curator.”

Franco raised his eyebrows in mild surprise. “A runaway bride who’s also an art historian? That’s not what I expected.”

Y/N rolled her eyes, though amusement flickered in them. “Sorry to let you down.”

“Not let down,” he replied casually. “Just intrigued. How does a museum curator end up in an arranged marriage with some wealthy jerk?”

Y/N took a slow breath. “The short story? My parents have deep roots in the jewellery scene. They’re avid collectors and mine owners. They wanted someone to continue the family legacy. I wanted something else entirely. They weren’t exactly pleased.” She shrugged. “So when Nikhil came into the picture, they thought, ‘Perfect. Let’s marry her off to a businessman who won’t mind that she doesn’t want to run the empire.’

Franco frowned. “And you just accepted that?”

She shot him a pointed look. “Do I look like I accepted it?”

He laughed. “Good point.”

She smirked but then sighed, her fingers twisting the fabric of her dress. “I tried to resist. But the pressure kept building, and I thought… maybe I could handle it. Maybe it wouldn’t be so terrible.” She scoffed. “Then today happened, and I realized—no. I can’t do this. I won’t.”

Franco nodded slowly. “So… Florence, then?”

She hesitated. “I mean, yes. Eventually.” She bit her lip. “But I can’t go straight home. Not yet. That’s the first place they’ll come looking for me.”

She glanced at him. “Where are you headed?”

“Monaco.”

Y/N groaned, slumping back against the seat. “That’s not far enough,”

Franco smirked. “What, you want me to take you somewhere more exciting?”

She grinned. “Tempting.” She hesitated for a moment before asking, "How long are you staying?"

"I live there, actually."

Thinking deeply, she bit her lip. "Would joining you be completely insane? Only for a little while?”

Franco's eyebrows went up. "You want to travel to Monaco with someone you just met fifteen minutes ago?"

She covered her face with her hands and groaned once more. "Wow, that sounds ridiculous when you put it that way."

"A tiny bit."

She gave him a look. "However?"

He cocked his head, watching her intently.

Then he answered, “I’ve done wilder things,” with a slow, knowing smile.

Y/N smiled, her eyes glimmering with delight. "Really?" He nodded. "Really."

The city was bustling around them as they got closer to the airport, and the car slowed.

Y/N took a deep breath and sat up with new energy.

"All right," she murmured, gripping her bag firmly. “I guess I’m off to Monaco.”

🪹🪹🪹

As Franco and Y/N got out of the taxi, the dazzling lights of the airport flickered overhead. Still acutely conscious of her ornate bridal gown, Y/N reflexively put her arms around herself in the cool night air, which contrasted sharply with the warmth of the automobile.

As she fought to keep up with him, Franco looked at her and then down at the enormous gown that hung about her feet. "You know," he thought, "you might draw less attention if you weren’t dressed like a princess fresh from a royal wedding."

Y/N let out a groan. "I promise you that I am horribly aware. However, I believe I'm stuck in this situation unless you happen to have extra clothing in your suitcase."

Franco paused for a beat before smirking. I do. It's not exactly runway-worthy, but it'll do."

He opened his carry-on and rummaged through it, handing her a black hoodie and sweatpants.

Y/N raised an eyebrow and took the bundle. "You're serious?"

"Completely. Unless you'd like to board the airplane dressed like a bride on the run?"

Y/N gave out a soft laugh. "A good point. But where do you expect me to change?"

He moved his head towards the nearby restroom. "I'll wait here."

Rolling her eyes, she walked inside. It took some manoeuvring, but she eventually got out of the lehenga skirt and into the much more comfy hoodie and sweatpants. The hoodie smelt vaguely like Franco—something crisp, clean, and slightly musky. She put the hood over her head and stuffed her abandoned wedding lehenga into her duffel bag, along with most of her heavy jewellery, before exiting.

Franco looked at her and smiled. "You pull off the 'I-stole-my-boyfriend's-clothes' look surprisingly well."

Y/N scoffed. "I wouldn't get ahead of myself."

He chuckled. "Come on, let's get your ticket."

They proceeded side by side to the counter, where Franco leaned against it while Y/N spoke with the attendant. When asked about her destination, she paused and looked at Franco.

"Monaco," he stated calmly. "One ticket."

Y/N sighed and nodded. "Yeah. Monaco."

As the attendant processed her request, she sensed Franco observing her. "You sure about this?" he enquired calmly. She turned to meet his eyes. "Nope," she said with a quiet giggle. "But I've never been more sure about anything at the same time."

Franco's lips curved into a lopsided smile. "That makes two of us."

The ticket had been printed, and Y/N grasped it tightly as if it might bind her to this new, unexpected path. Franco took her duffel bag without saying anything, slinging it over his shoulder as they made their way to security.

Y/N cast a peek at him. "You didn't have to do that, you know." "I know," he said casually. "But if we're going to do this, might as well make it easier for you."

She didn’t know what to say to that.

Instead, she simply smiled—a modest, genuine thing she hadn't realised she had been suppressing for a long time.

As they passed through security and headed toward their gate, Y/N had an unusual, exciting sense of freedom. Maybe this was insane. Perhaps she'd come to regret it. But when Franco walked by her, nonchalantly holding her luggage as if it were the most normal thing in the world, she had the impression that this experience was only beginning.

🪹🪹🪹

They settled into a quiet nook of the terminal to wait for their flight. Y/N tugged on the sleeves of Franco's hoodie, the cloth wrapping around her in unexpected comfort. He observed her with amusement. "You look like a kid in oversized clothes."

She nudged him gently. "Your fault for being so tall."

He smirked but did not argue. Instead, he reclined back in his seat and stretched his legs.

She couldn’t deny the nervousness still coursing through her, her heart beating wildly. But somehow, Franco seemed to notice, and without hesitation he reached for her palm, holding onto it.

Y/N looked at him in confusion, the action unexpected, but she’d be lying if she said it wasn’t comforting. He smiled softly, as if to say ‘It’s going to be alright’, and gave her hand a soft squeeze. She smiled back, squeezing his palm back.

"So, what's the first thing you want to do in Monaco?", he asked while still holding onto her hand.

Y/N considered for a moment before grinning. "I believe I simply want to sit by the water and breathe. No expectations, no obligations. Just exist."

Franco examined her with a softening face. "This sounds like an excellent plan. I know just the place."

She arched her brow. "Oh? Do tell."

"You will have to wait and see. But I promise it will be worthwhile.

Y/N held his stare, a warmth rising in her chest. She had no idea what was ahead, but having Franco by her made her feel safe, which she hadn't felt in a long time.

my first franco fic!!! ahhh i’m so excited. also i’m heavily considering writing a part two, mostly bc i didn’t think this was as romantic as i hoped it to be. but like i already wrote so much and adding more to just a single post would make it go to like 5k words lmk if u guys would like it <4

[keepingitformyself]

older (and wiser): iii

A/N: well here we are! the final chapter of “older (and wiser).” this will not be the end tho! i plan to write a prequel series going more into depth about wanda and readers past, how they came to be, how they fell apart and what not. i do want to to make one more thing clear before you continue reading; this story is meant to be as realistic as possible. meaning the ending may not be for everyone. i specifically wrote this with intent of giving these characters an emotional arc they deserved. so, without further ado, enjoy this final chapter!

synopsis: wanda comes over for dinner one last time.

pairings: wanda maximoff x reader

genre: angst

warnings: it’s gonna be sad lowk. get the tissues ready.

MASTERLIST series masterlist

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

wanda spends most of the night back at her hotel, staring out the large window that overlooks the city. neon signs flicker in the distance, their glow casting fragmented patterns across her room.

she leans her forehead against the cool glass, letting the city hum around her, lost in thoughts of you. she imagines what you could be doing right now. if paul’s arms were wrapped around you, if he makes you laugh the way she used to. a hollow ache settles in her chest as she lets herself sink into the deep loss of not having you anymore.

the next day, early morning, wanda’s phone buzzes on the nightstand. she reaches for it groggily, only to find a message from you at the top of her screen.

come by at 6:30? here’s the address: 150 west 26th street, new york, ny 10001. see you soon!

for a moment, wanda just stares at the screen, her thumb hovering over the message. she exhales slowly, closing her eyes as a wave of uncertainty washes over her. part of her wants to pack her bags right then and there, to book an early flight and leave you in this city behind.

she doesn’t know which is worse. never facing you again or having to sit across the dinner table from you and your husband-to-be.

she spends the rest of the day mentally preparing herself for how this evening could go, running through endless scenarios in her head.

what would one talk about when having dinner with their ex’s fiance? especially when said ex is someone you’re still seemingly in love with.

oh yeah, your fiance used to look at me the same way.

or

of course, i know what her favorite song is. ‘do i ever cross your mind?’ by dolly parton. i performed it for her on our eighth month anniversary.

yeah, i paid the tech guy in the theatre department extra to let me use the theatre after hours.

the thoughts make her cringe, but the bitterness is hard to suppress. she tries to bite back the small, unwarranted hatred she’s developed for paul. everything she’s learned about him—despite her best efforts not to—has been nothing but positive.

he’s generous, patient, successful, and clearly loves you. and wanda knows you wouldn’t be marrying someone who didn’t treat you like you deserved the whole world.

it’s all pathetic in its nature. she should have been over you long by now. but she doesn’t know how to explain to you— to explain to herself—that leaving you is still something she’s trying to process. that even when she didn’t appreciate you enough, you felt like everything to her. you still do.

and she doesn’t know how to make sense of any of it.

by the time the sun sets, wanda’s resolve is still fragile. she dressed carefully, standing in front of the mirror for far too long, fussing with her appearance. she wants to look composed, unbothered. as if seeing you happy with someone else doesn’t feel like dagger to the heart. one that you keep twisting without trying.

at 6:15, she steps outside her hotel and hails a cab, clutching a bottle of wine she bought earlier as a polite gesture. as the cab weaves through the bustling streets of new york, wanda wonders what kind of expression you’ll wear when you see her. will it be warm, nostalgic, indifferent? she braces herself for anything.

when the cab drops her off in front of a sleek residential building in tribeca, she lingers for a moment before buzzing in. the door unlocks with a soft click, leading her into a quiet corridor toward an elevator. she steps inside, pressing the button for your floor with a hand that feels unsteady.

the walls feel too close. the air feels too thick.

by the time she reaches your door, her nerves are frayed. she knocks twice, her heart hammering.

four seconds later, the door swings open, and there you are, beaming at her like no time has passed.

"hi! it’s so good to see you."

before wanda can say anything, you pull her into a hug, warm and familiar. she exhales sharply, caught off guard, but she lets herself sink into it, just for a moment.

when you pull away, she notices the man standing just a few feet behind you, a cat in his arms. he watches the interaction with a patient, kind smile before gently setting the cat down.

“sorry about that,” paul says, laughing as the cat immediately tries to sneak toward the door. "he bolts every chance he gets."

then, without hesitation, he steps forward and grasps wanda’s hands in his own. his grip is firm, his smile genuine.

“it’s really nice to meet you, wanda.”

for a second, wanda is stunned by the ease of his kindness. she had spent so much time building him up in her head as an obstacle, an enemy, but standing here now, faced with his warmth, she almost felt guilty for ever resenting him.

“thank you for having me,” she manages, recovering quickly. she glances around, taking in the space. "you have a lovely home."

then, as if suddenly remembering, she reaches into her bag.

“i brought some wine,” she says, handing it to you. “the expensive kind. i know my stuff.” she huffs out a small laugh, forcing some lightness into her voice.

paul chuckles, taking the bottle from your hands to examine it. “i like her already.”

and just like that, wanda knows this is going to hurt more than she thought.

dinner passes in a blur of polite conversation and well-meaning smiles. paul is gracious, effortlessly kind, and wanda hates how easy it is to like him. she hates that there’s nothing about him to hate at all.

she watches the way you lean into him when you laugh, how his hand absentmindedly finds yours on the table. it’s second nature, the kind of comfort that only comes with time, with certainty.

and wanda knows, without question, that she has none of those things with you anymore.

paul has made it a habit to ask about how you and wanda met. even though she’s sure he already knows most of the story, he’s always genuine in wanting to hear more, especially the parts you tend to leave out.

“you got any funny stories about this one?” paul asks, flashing wanda a pointed smile. “something embarrassing, please.”

wanda huffs out a quiet laugh, her fingers tracing the rim of her glass. she has plenty. but as she glances between you and paul, there’s a flicker of hesitation in her eyes. some memories feel lighter than others. some carry more weight than she knows what to do with.

still, when she sees the way you’re watching her; curious, amused, trusting, she decides to tell it.

“oh, i’ve got one,” she says, leaning forward slightly. “back in college, we tried to break into the theatre department after hours. it wasn’t really breaking in, technically, the door was open, but we definitely weren’t supposed to be there. they had this whole wire rig set up for the upcoming peter pan production, and somebody—” she tilts her chin toward you “—thought it would be a great idea to try it out.”

paul turns to you, amused. “why am i not surprised?”

you groan, already bracing for the rest of the story. wanda smirks but continues, her voice softer now.

“so, there she was, strapped into this ridiculous harness, so sure she was about to soar across the stage like some theatrical prodigy. but the second she tried to lift off, the harness jammed, and instead of flying, she was just—”

“i was dangling there,” you chime in, groaning at the memory. “like some tragic shakespearean ghost.”

“and then, of course, security walks in,” she says, shaking her head. “and instead of, i don’t know, explaining, she panicked and yelled, ‘i have done the deed. didst thou not hear a noise?’”

paul bursts out laughing, nearly choking on his drink. “you did not.”

“she did,” wanda confirms, laughing softly. “the security guy just stood there for a second, like he was reconsidering every choice that led him to that moment, then sighed and said, ‘get down.’”

paul grins, shaking his head. “so, what happened next?”

“i had to help her out of the harness before we both got kicked out,” wanda says. “and then we ran. fast.” she pauses, her smile dimming just a little. “ended up at that all-night diner by campus instead. sat there for hours, drinking burnt coffee, still laughing about it.”

her voice drifts for a moment, lost in the memory. you swallow, feeling something heavy settle in your chest, but before the silence can stretch too long, you force out a small chuckle.

“i could’ve flown,” you say, shaking your head. “i just needed a little more time.”

wanda looks at you then, and there’s something in her gaze. something paul doesn’t quite catch, but you do.

“yeah,” she murmurs. “maybe you just needed more time.”

paul laughs again, unaware of the way wanda’s fingers tighten around her glass. “you two were absolute menaces, huh?”

and just like that, the moment passes. the air lightens again, and Wanda takes another sip of her wine. but the memory lingers between you, heavier than it should be.

“did she ever tell you that we watch some of your movies sometimes?” paul cuts in, his eyes bright with genuine curiosity. there’s an eager energy to him, the kind that makes it clear he isn’t just saying it to be polite—he actually wants to talk about her work.

wanda raises an eyebrow, glancing at you. “oh?”

you offer a small, sheepish smile, and paul continues before you can respond.

“i mean, seriously,” he says, leaning forward slightly. “i’m already a pretty emotional guy, but your movies? they wreck me.”

wanda lets out a soft, amused laugh, her fingers absently tracing the stem of her wine glass. “that’s very kind of you to say.” she takes a slow sip before adding, almost offhandedly, “i guess i just have a thing for playing characters in distress.”

paul barks out a laugh at that, shaking his head. “yeah, well, you do it very well. it’s almost unfair.”

wanda smirks, but there’s something thoughtful in the way she tilts her head, as if considering his words. then, with a teasing glint in her eye, she leans in slightly and says, “i take it you’re a crier, then?”

paul places a hand over his chest in mock offense. “absolutely. no shame.”

that earns a more genuine laugh from wanda, and for a moment, the tension in her shoulders eases. the air between the three of you feels a little lighter.

when the plates are empty and the conversation slows, paul pushes back his chair with a contented sigh.

“i’ll start on the dishes,” he says, already stacking plates. “you two should catch up.”

you smile at him, appreciative, and wanda feels something twist in her chest. she shouldn’t be here. she doesn’t belong here.

still, she doesn’t move.

you refill your wine glass and lean back in your chair, watching her carefully. wanda swirls what’s left in her own glass, staring at the deep red before speaking.

“maybe i should’ve tried to convince you to run off with me,” she jokes, her voice light, almost teasing.

but when she finally looks up, she sees the way your expression falters, just for a second. you know, both of you do, that it isn’t really a joke.

you let out a small breath, shaking your head with a soft chuckle. “that wouldn’t have changed anything, wanda.”

“wouldn’t it?” she asks, a little too quickly.

your eyes search hers, and for a fleeting moment, it feels like the past is sitting between you, untouched, waiting.

wanda wonders if there’s a universe where you had run off together. if there’s a version of you out there, tangled up in her arms instead of in someone else’s.

she swallows hard. “i wish i had tried a little harder.”

your face softens, but it’s not enough to undo the distance between you. “you couldn’t help it,” you say, voice gentle.

"i could have," she insists, her hands gripping the stem of her glass a little too tightly. there’s frustration in her voice, but beneath it, there’s something raw. regret, maybe.

you don’t argue. you won’t. because the truth is, she could have.

"yeah," you admit, barely above a whisper. "maybe."

silence settles between you. wanda watches as your gaze shifts toward the window, toward the street where people pass by, oblivious to the ache sitting between you both.

she doesn’t know what she was expecting. maybe some kind of reassurance that she still lingers in your mind the way you linger in hers. that if things had been different, if she had been different, this could have been her home, her life.

but you don’t give her that.

paul’s voice calls from the kitchen. “babe, where’s the dish soap?”

you blink, turning toward the sound, and the spell is broken.

wanda forces a smile, downing the last of her wine before standing. “i should get going.”

you don't question it.

you grab wanda’s coat from the rack and walk her to the door. she doesn’t ask you to, but neither of you are quite ready for the night to end without one last moment.

“leaving so soon?” paul asks suddenly, his voice light but tinged with something unreadable. both you and wanda turn to face him.

she nods apologetically, adjusting the strap of her bag on her shoulder. “i have an early flight tomorrow,” she admits, offering a small, regretful smile.

“oh.” paul’s disappointment is subtle but there, it flickers in his eyes before he shapes his expression into something more polite. “well, it was really nice meeting you, wanda.”

you glance at him, catching the way he shifts slightly, rubbing his thumb over the inside of his palm. a small habit of his when he’s holding something back. you wonder, briefly, if tonight was difficult for him too, if he’s been carrying the weight of this evening the same way you have. you decide you’ll ask him about it later.

stepping forward, you lean in to press a kiss to his cheek, feeling the way his jaw relaxes at the familiar gesture. his hand finds yours easily, his fingers warm and steady against your own.

“i’m just gonna walk her out,” you murmur, giving his hand a small squeeze.

paul nods, his eyes searching yours for a moment before he offers wanda another polite smile. “safe travels,” he says, his voice kind, sincere.

as you lead wanda toward the door, you feel the weight of paul’s gaze lingering on you, as if he knows that this goodbye is heavier than it appears.

the air outside is crisp, carrying the distant hum of the city. wanda stands beside you on the curb, her arms wrapped around herself despite the warmth of her coat. the streetlights cast long shadows, and for a second, it feels like you’re standing on the edge of something you’ll never get back.

her uber is a few minutes away. that’s all the time you have left.

she exhales softly, eyes fixed on the passing cars. then, as if she’s been holding it in all night, she finally asks, “do you think we could have worked things out? if we had been different people? under different circumstances?”

the question hits you. you open your mouth, but nothing comes out. because the truth is, you don’t know.

maybe in another life. maybe in a world where you didn’t leave the hotel before she could see you, where you both didn’t have to love each other from a distance, where you didn’t have to wonder if loving her meant waiting for something that wasn’t enough.

but this isn’t that world.

you swallow hard, staring down at the pavement. “i don’t know, wanda.”

she nods, as if she expected that answer, but the sadness in her eyes deepens anyway. “me neither.”

the uber pulls up, headlights cutting through the night, and you both turn toward it. this is it. the real goodbye.

wanda hesitates, then reaches for you, pulling you into one last embrace. you don’t know who’s holding onto who tighter. when she pulls away, her hand lingers on your arm for a second too long before she finally steps back.

“take care of yourself,” she murmurs, voice barely above a whisper.

you give her a tight-lipped smile, but it doesn’t quite reach your eyes. “you too, wanda.”

she slides into the backseat, and as the car pulls away, you stand frozen on the sidewalk, watching until the taillights disappear around the corner.

and then it hits you.

the weight of it all crashes down at once. the grief, the finality, the understanding that there are some lives you’ll never get to live, some love stories that will never get their second chance.

you press a hand to your mouth as your chest tightens, eyes stinging, but you force yourself to turn back toward the building before you fall apart completely.

when you step into the lobby, you’re not surprised to see paul waiting by the elevator. he doesn’t say anything. he doesn’t have to.

the moment you reach him, you break.

a choked sob escapes you as you fall into his arms, and he holds you without hesitation, one hand smoothing over your hair, the other wrapped firmly around your back.

“i’ve got you,” he murmurs against your temple. and you believe him.

because this was never about leaving him.

you love paul. you’ve never questioned that.

but love doesn’t erase the what-ifs. it doesn’t quiet the ache of knowing there’s a version of you out there who loved wanda differently, who had a life that was beautiful in its own way. one that you’ll never get to live.

paul presses a kiss to your hair and just holds you, letting you mourn what could have been.

and when you’re finally ready, he walks you up.

[mags6422]

It Happened One November Part 2

Part 1

Fuck this town.

Fuck his shitstain dad for making him miss his fucking date

And fuck Maxine fucking Mayfield in particular, he was done with this shit. 

Not that he really gave a shit about Stacy but now, instead of getting his dick wet, he was spending his night wandering around Hawkins looking for the little shitbird who lived with him. The little twerp who could do no wrong in their house and who Billy now had to get home or get his lights punched out. Again.

And when he got her home she would get a slap on the wrist while Billy got the belt for not watching her close enough.

After driving all over town to her usual hangouts, he tried the houses of her little twerp friends (and wasn’t that a punch in the guts, the little shit had already made friends), old man Thompson said he saw her on the back of the Sinclair kid’s bike heading toward the old junkyard of all places. 

Billy parked his car as close as he could and then had to hike the rest of the way as a creepy fog started to roll in. Great. 

“Maxine! Where are you shitbird?!”

God this place was creepy with the fog and the whole junk yard absolutely reeked of gasoline. 

“I know you’re here, Max!” Billy stalked into an open area in front of an old school bus that looked like someone had prepared it for the apocalypse. God he hated small town idiots, there was nothing to do here so people came up with the weirdest shit.

“Get your ass over here right now and I’ll consider going easy on you!” Billy spread his arms into the night and swung around, scanning the yard until he felt something soft and squishy under his shoes. 

If he just stepped in dog shit, he was going to kill somebody. Billy lifted his foot in disgust but when he looked he saw what looked like a huge pile of… meat? What the hell? This town was so fucked up. 

“What the -” from behind him, Billy heard a weird chittering sound.

Billy turned just in time to raise his arms as a… thing leaped at him. It looked a bit like a greyhound in the body, all clean lines and muscles but the head… 

The thing collided with his chest and Billy’s shoe slipped in the meat pile (was someone feeding this thing?!) and they both went down, the thing landing on his chest and stomach, driving all the air from his lungs so he couldn’t even scream as it’s whole face opened up with a screech, revealing row upon row of teeth that was descending on his fucking face!

Whack!

One minute, Billy was staring into the gaping maw of death, the next, the thing gave a sound like a kicked dog and it was being thrown to the side and there stood (of all things!) Steve fucking Harrington! 

Pretty boy, rich boy, former King of Hawkins High, Steve fucking Harrington was standing over him, with his perfect fucking hair and pretty fucking face, swinging a fucking baseball bat covered in goddam nails like he just hit a fucking grandslam homerun.

“You ok?” Steve’s eyes rake over Billy but he still can’t get air into his lungs to respond, just cough at him. Beside Billy, he hears a grunt and a shuffle of claws and turns to see the Thing trying to get back to its feet, black ooze leaking from its battered side.

Steve doesn’t even hesitate, just twirls his fucking bat before bringing it down on the Thing’s face again and again and again until its head looks like a burst pumpkin and little drops of black blood are covering both of them. 

“Steve! Behind you!” 

Steve smoothly shifts from the downward swings into a perfect baseball swing, nails colliding with another one of those things as it leaps for his back, sending the creature tumbling into the fog.

“Get up!” Yells Steve, extending one hand as his eyes scan the junkyard and Billy can hear more chittering from all around him “Now!”

Steve’s hand was warm and strong as he hauled Billy to his feet and immediately stepped around him, putting himself between the Things and Billy, herding him back toward the apocalypse bus where he saw two of the twerps and fucking Maxine frantically yelling and waving them on. 

The kids tugged him onto the bus as soon as he was in range, hustling him back into one of the remaining seats, all yelling and talking over each other as Billy coughed, still trying to suck air into his lungs from being tackled.

There’s a commotion at the front as Steve leaps onto the bus as well and the curly haired one slams the door shut as another Thing tries to follow him, both Steve and the kid immediately jumping in to brace the door. 

The Things weren’t distracted by the door for long and Billy could hear them shrieking and chittering all around the bus as their claws scratched around and looked for a weak point until he heard a thud on the roof. Max’s scream had them all looking toward the fire escape on the roof but before Billy could even stand up, there was Steve, pushing Max back toward her friends and raising his bat to defend them.

The Thing’s face opened to roar at them and Harrington, the fucking madman just yelled right back, getting ready to strike.

Just as they were about to launch at one another, the Thing raised it’s head and looked off into the distance, growled at them once and jumped away. All the Things seemed to retreat in a matter of minutes and the bus was left with just the sound of heavy breathing as everyone listened to see if they were coming back. 

“What the Jesus fuck was that?!”

[emotionallychargedtowel]

Hey, Rose. I think we're in agreement here, or at least mostly so. I'm thinking about this a bit differently, but I think the difference might be mostly semantic.

I would say that sex was the problem—in a way. But it was only the problem insofar as it was a specific way of expressing and deepening intimacy that Nakarai and Hagiwara both felt a need for and weren't able to experience in their respective relationships. And although they both complained, and talked as though their frustrations were normal and reasonable, a part of each of them thought that they might be weird or disgusting for wanting sex, or wanting it enough for it to be a big issue for them. It may have been more personalized, too. They may have thought it was weird or disgusting or unreasonable for them to want or expect sex, that there was something wrong with them or lacking in them that made this the case. So when they came together in this intimate way, they wanted sex, but what they really needed was to be seen by another person in an authentic way and still be accepted.

That said, I think it was still crucial for it to happen in a sexual setting, because that's where all of that shame had built up. The reason the emotional intimacy they experienced was so impactful was because they were able to be themselves, including being sexually expressive, while being accepted. Not just accepted—embraced, in the metaphorical sense as well as the literal sense.

I think the sex scene was handled pretty much perfectly. I don't think a scene that prioritized being arousing would have served this story well at this point. Among other things, this version of the scene felt really realistic to me.

Not that more titillating sex scenes necessarily aren't realistic. I think the feeling that a scene like that gets across is really reminiscent of a feeling one can experience in a real sexual context, not because life is like a perfectly lit and edited piece of media but because when the circumstances are right, sex can (temporarily) make you feel like everything is as perfect as it looks in a TV show, or it can sweep you along so that time feels like it's passing as quickly as it does in a montage, or it can make you feel things so strongly that there might as well be dramatic music playing all around you.

But it isn't always like that. Sometimes time feels like it's moving more slowly instead of faster, sometimes the timing of everything feels a little off, sometimes you're so painfully self-aware that it's like the soundtrack of the movie of your life got abruptly silenced. The one time in my life when I cheated on someone, the experience was a lot more like the latter, a lot more like what happened with Nakarai and Hagiwara, than it was like the usual kind of sex scene. And not because it was some kind of terrible event. I was falling in love, or thought I was. I was conflicted, and guilt-ridden, but I was elated at the same time. But that didn't stop everything from feeling strange.

There's nothing wrong with the kind of sex scene we're used to as QL viewers. But I think in this specific instance, that kind of scene wouldn't have made sense and would have taken the viewer further away from the things the makers of the show wanted to foreground. The intense vulnerability of the scene accomplished a few different things. It showed us a realistic path for Nakarai and Hagiwara from mysterious email correspondents and coworkers to lovers, because the emotional intimacy in that scene was so strong and so central that one can imagine how it would mark a huge shift in their feelings. It helped the viewer maintain some sense of affiliation and sympathy with the leads even as they engaged in infidelity, something most people have a visceral negative reaction to. And it brought the story back to its center, back to the themes that have been the most vital part of the narrative from the beginning.

I hope this makes sense, because I'm writing it when I'm very sleepy. If not, I'll try clarifying in the morning!

I love that, for two guys who were apparently desperate to get laid, in the end, them sleeping together was about anything but that. It's almost as if sex was never really the problem.

[earlgreylatte]

hear me out on yandere booster and ted please🙏🏿 i need them its not even funny

Limed Ash

It’s not in their nature to be cruel, least of all to you. They wouldn’t dream of laying a hand on you or doing anything you don’t ask for. But things aren’t so easy in their world. People get hurt, or worse, just for being associated with a hero, just for being married to one. They all remember what happened to Sue Dibney.

So you can’t really blame Ted for pulling a Batman and adding trackers to your phone and shoes. And yes, he does have cameras around the apartment, but only in the common areas! He’d never put any in the washroom, he’s not actually like Batman, really!

But the thing about Ted is that he’ll do what’s necessary. He has killed as a last resort before, so if there’s anything or anyone that threatens you or Booster…well, he wouldn’t have a choice. And he would be able to easily dispose of any evidence.

While he’s retired and taking it easy because of his heart condition, he’s more than willing to use his more technical skills to take care of things instead. He may not be as good as Barbara, but doxxing someone or draining their bank account is definitely within his capabilities.

Booster, on the other hand, is a bit more hesitant on murder, but he has gotten in trouble for missing with the past for your sake. If you ever mention a traumatic moment or wound you received in the past, he’s gone back to try and prevent it. Like I could totally see him just popping up years before even meeting you and beating the crap out of someone that was threatening you. Imagine finally meeting a younger version of him years later and just having a lightbulb moment.

Rip has definitely scolded him for being so reckless but he understands and even approves, although he won’t admit it. You do go on to raise him alongside Booster and Ted, after all. Though, that’s a while away.

Both are pretty clingy and very big on quality time, often waiting outside your work or appointments to pick you up and take you out. They would never restrict you or try to control you, but do expect wellness checks and visits throughout the day. Ted also checks street/building cameras hourly.

Anytime a particular villain or psycho is loose, you will be put on lockdown, staying with Ted as he operates his desk as Booster works to ensure your safety.

Be gentle with them, after their experiences, they’re a bit paranoid and prone to worrying so reassure them when either of them wake up from a nightmare, shaking as they reach out to make sure you’re okay, that you’re still here.

While they would never try isolate you, they are possessive and even a bit petty. Booster especially likes the closeness of your shared bond and probably tries to one up people when they mention how close you are or have an experience they shared with you.

(“Yeah, we go way back—“

“I took them to one of Mozart’s performances actually! We had such an awesome time! Us! Me, Teddy, and them!”

“MJ, calm down.”)

Ted is also pretty petulant, slumping over you or just pulling you in his lap when he’s feeling left out. The type to get jealous over fictional characters. Has a personal vendetta against Love&DeepSpace and Dragon Age after seeing you giggle at 2D men. Really, what’s so good about Caleb?

Honestly, even if they are a bit extreme in their protectiveness, the relationship itself is pretty healthy and their general yandereness becoming orange or even beige flags instead of red ones. They make sure you never find out about their less than savoury actions against others.

Booster stares down at you, your head perched on his lap as you pant and moan, your teary eyes staring up at him while he traces a finger over your lips. Ted has his head buried between your legs, noisier than you as he groans, eyes rolling back when your thighs clench around his head.

“You’re so pretty, so, so good for us,” The blond praises, already knowing this will be a moment he’ll revisit over and over with the time sphere. “You don’t have to worry about anything, me and Teddy will take care of you. Just let go.”

You hold onto his hand as Ted makes you cum for nth time. Yes, Booster would rather rip out his own heart than let anyone even attempt to take you away from him and Ted

The reason this is called limed ash? Because that’s the colour my mouth is going to be after I’m done with them—! KIDDING! Kidding! (Not really!)

I feel like I’m seeing more Booster content this winter, so I feel pretty good! And yes, I have to mention Rip!

Thanks for the request! So happy to see people also want the same content as me, like I hope Ted appears in the confirmed dc projects like the booster gold show or jaime’s show so more people will write for boostle x reader!

Masterlist

[aplaceinthedark]

interlude: SOMETHING BAD will HAPPEN if you are with SOMEONE ELSE

Summary: The Appalachian Mountains hide numerous monsters, and it's up to Taylor and the Bad Omens to prevent them from causing any harm. 

Word Count: 1,428

CW: supernatural themes, blood, maiming, decapitation

This is RPF, and thus will contain real people, but names and events will be changed. If this bothers you too much, then please leave this temple without causing harm. 

Divider by @saradika-graphics

NOAH

I am royally fucked, Noah thought as he paced around the Grove. 

Not too long after Taylor had fallen asleep, Noah had extracted himself from their hold. He scrambled in the darkness to pull his jeans on before searching for Taylor's clothes. Not wanting to wake them, he stuffed their clothes in their bag and wrapped them back up in the blanket he had borrowed from their house. He then proceeded to go into a spiraling crisis.

He wanted to run away as far as possible as fast as he could. He tried to at first, but he realised that he couldn't just leave Taylor alone. The Grove might be full of… whatever magick, but it couldn't protect them from any Things that might still be lurking despite the ritual. 

Noah could feel that magick now. Even without focusing on that force of nature that seemed to be etched into every rock and root in this valley, he could feel it ebbing away like a shadow that would wait and bide its time before striking again. The forest around him seemed to sigh with satiated content, and it made him sick. 

Noah sat down at the base of the ancient oak tree, knocking his antlers gently back against the trunk. They were barren again, scabs forming over the wounds he made when he had torn the flowers out. It had felt like he had ripped chunks of his hair out of his scalp, but he didn't care since they just served as reminders of what he had done.  

He couldn't help glancing down at Taylor, peacefully curled up and sleeping next to his outstretched leg. Without thinking, he placed his hand on their hair, disheveled from his hands previously being tangled in them. 

They had had sex. He had liked it. And now… Now he didn't want to give Taylor back. 

He wanted to take them away to the darker recesses of the woods, fuck them senseless into the ground until he was in their ribcage and they fused together into one being. He had even marked them - multiple times - as if they belonged to him. They weren't even his to begin with. 

Nicholas was waiting for Taylor back at their house. And he would absolutely kill Noah if he left Taylor in the woods to walk back by themself. Who cares if Noah could feel the Pale Things retreating to the darkest recesses before the sun could come up and boil their skin to the bone? The woods were still dangerous. 

Noah tried hailing Folio or Jolly but got no response. Jolly was probably sleeping  behind his waterfall down in Devil’s Creek,  and Folio... Hm, he must have had a rough time taking care of whatever har followed Taylor to the holler. His life essence was faint, but Noah could sense he was still alive and just sleeping the injuries off. 

Which meant Noah had to take Taylor back whether he wanted to or not. 

Noah tucked one arm under Taylor’s  shoulders and the other under their knees,  picking them up and holding them close to  his chest. They stirred at the movement, but they only huddled closer to his chest. He took in a deep breath and forced himself to walk in the direction of their house.  

Of course, the woods were silent and restful now, so he didn't have anything to keep his mind preoccupied. He had to deal with the storm in his head. He gritted his teeth together and pressed on, trying to get to his destination as fast as possible. 

The house was dark when Noah walked up to the porch. Shuffling Taylor a little bit, he tried the doorknob. He swore when he discovered it was locked and he had to dig around for the spare key. Despite all the movement, Tayler didn't stir.  

Nicholas wasn't waiting up for them on the couch. Instead, Folio was passed out there, his arm bandaged up. And when Noah went to put Taylor in their bedroom, he saw that Nicholas wasn't waiting up period. He was passed out under the blankets, Lydia tucked in his arm. 

Noah quickly tucked Taylor under the  covers, pulling the dirty blanket from their  body. He put their bag on the floor and then turned away and quickly headed for the front door. 

When he was outside, Noah let out a long, shaky breath. He was halfway across the porch when he heard Nicholas' voice in his head. Noah? He shook it out. There was no way he could look Nicholas in the face tonight. Or perhaps ever.  

As Noah sprinted back through the woods, he didn't hear Nicholas again, so he must have fallen back asleep. Not much longer Noah found himself back in the Grove.  

Anger roused in his gut, roiling until it boiled over, releasing from him as a guttural scream that lasted for several agonizing seconds. As he dropped to his knees he saw that he was already half transformed into the Watcher of the Woods.  

He let the transformation complete itself. This form suited him more than his human form, for now he truly looked like the monster he felt he was.

As Noah walked away with Taylor in his arms, something stirred in the Grove. Just on the other side of the ancient oak tree, a shape formed.  

Void of light and color, it brushed along the dead leaves and grass like a hiss in the night. It slowly gained a physical form, until skeletal hands pulled sinewy arms along the dirt. Maggot colored skin stretched over a formless face until a mouth hole appeared, and a death rattle burst forth from an airless voicebox.

More and more pulled itself together, until a long black veil draped over its humanoid form and dragged behind them. And then it took one shaky step towards warmth. 

Three warmths, to be exact. One blazing bright, but lifeless. The other two were small, but full of life. The woman - the figure filling out to a shape more suited towards what society thinks a woman looks like - moved towards these two small warmths, practically floating. But she isn't attracted towards that warmth itself. No, she's attracted more to what is fueling that warmth.

The lies.

The joy in another's pain. 

The pain.

The Thing Under A Veil stops at the edge of the Warmth, taking in the sight of two men drinking by a campfire. They're clearly drunk, loudly and boisterously talking. One of them is startled when he sees the female figure standing just outside of the fire’s glow. “Hey, you lost or sumthin’?”

The Thing isn't looking at him. Her sights are set on the man whose heart blazes coldly, reveling in the fact that he has two side pieces while his wife is asleep at home, blissfully unaware of his escapades. 

The Thing points at him, still silent as the grave. He's not at all intimidated by her. He stands up and walks over to her, yapping something that she doesn't acknowledge.  Obviously, this man doesn't have a brain banging around between his ears. 

“Alright, look here. You're just messin’ with us now, and I'm not gonna stand here and–”

He stops in front of her. A crunching sound interrupts him as the lady lifts her hands and puts them on the sides of his head. It was intimate, like she would pull him in for a kiss. But with a twist of her arms, the man’s head turned sideways to an impossible angle, and she wasn't stopping. The other man looked on in horror as she completely tore the head off the body, leaving it to slump down in front of the fire. 

The other man tried to scream, or shout at the woman, or do something, but instead he just stood there, frozen in complete shock. Instead of his brain telling his legs to run, it only tried to process how in the hell this woman managed to decapitate his friend just with brute strength. 

And then she was in front of him. 

Before he could try to move; before he could think of defending himself, he heard a single word come out from under her black veil. “Liarrrr…” she hissed, her voice sounding like nails on a chalkboard.

And then everything went black for him, too.

She stood as still as a statue among the carnage. It wasn't until she heard an anguished roar that she even moved. With that, she vanished with a sinister whisper, leaving behind the beheaded corpses. Just one word; a name:

“Noahhh…”

tysm for reading! If you enjoyed this, please reblog to share the word of the Revered Father. Next chapter coming soon.

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@poisongirl616 @lacktoesandtoddlerants  

[absentwriterdoll]

There are tools, apparatuses... toasters, exercise equipment, instruments, or computers... I wonder if they can be a doll. Or like, if there would be an experimental witch who would make that happen.

Dolls can exist as anything, I heard. And their features I could peek at from the writings... I can't stop seeing usual inanimate objects the same way anymore.

"A sort of love."

There's a sort of love that exists between an object and its witch.

Plushies that we sleep with, figurines on shelves... A voice recorder used as an mp3 player, a pencil that is named... A phone with cracks running all across its screen...

Keychains that one wears anywhere one goes.

Things that exist in these ones' daily lives that, to most, one wouldn't give a second thought of whether it works or not, or even whether it's present or not.

Except what if they could think and experience just like these ones? What stories would they have to tell? Would one have been gentle to them? Or would their stories speak of cruelty? How hard one worked to try and fix them... Or whether they were replaced the moment they stopped working?

A lightbulb that goes out and never changed...

Until some years later when one finally gets back on their feet.

There's a sort of love there that exists between one and an object.

Sometimes replacements need to happen. Like moving from a deprecated, dying forum on its last legs to a discord server... or perhaps someplace even newer.

Sometimes those replacements are inevitable.

But the memories remain.

Plushies that have been with us for years... Figurines to represent our favorite characters... A damaged voice recorder that still runs if used in a specific way... A pencil whose chrome has rubbed away to brass... A phone whose screen was only ever replaced because the pixels started dying en masse... Keychains that have seen years of someone life...

A refrigerator that finally, at last, stopped working and refused to be fixed... A car that saw new life thanks to a tireless mechanic's ministrations... A book that sees itself read time and again... A hairtie that one bought copies of just in case it ever got lost... A favorite shirt that one wears almost everyday...

A mural of pictures on a wall.

...

The memories remain.

...

And there's a sort of love that exists between someone and their "inanimate" objects.

This one likes to believe that this love makes this world all the better to exist in.

[loves0phelia]

Red And Blue

Summery: His canon event.

Words: 1.9k

Warnings: kinda gore at one point nothing too crazy, grammar mistakes.

A/N: I'm so sorry for the amount of mistakes this probably has but i cant be bothered to care more i just want to get this fic out. Listen to my tears ricochet as you read

Rafe had always been good at hiding things. He kept his head down, stayed out of the spotlight, and made sure no one looked too closely. But ever since the bite, since the powers, since the responsibility that came with it, lying had become second nature.

Especially to you.

It killed him, really. Every time he bailed on a movie night, ignored your texts, or showed up bruised and breathless with a half-baked excuse, he saw the confused and hurt look in your eyes. But what was he supposed to do? Tell the truth? That he was ditching every time to swing across rooftops, and fight criminals? No. That wasn’t an option.

Tonight was no different.

“Are you serious, Rafe?” You leaned your head down, phone pressed against your ear, voice sharp with frustration. “You're leaving me again. You promised this time. I know you don't like school events but just once please”

“I'm sorry” he muttered, running a hand through his already-messy hair. “Something came up.”

“Something always comes up. What is it this time? And don’t tell me it's homework or family stuff, because I know when you’re lying.” 

“I just…” He exhaled, as if a weight was pressing on his chest. “I can’t tell you, okay?” He swallowed hard.

Silence. At first he thought you hung up but he could still hear a faint shuffling from the other end of the phone call.

The silence was somehow worse than you cursing him out for bailing.

“Why not? I thought we told each other everything.” your voice was softer this time, more fragile

God, how badly he wanted to. He wanted to tell you about the fights, the injuries he had to patch up alone, the weight of trying to be a hero when all he wanted was to be a normal guy. But if he told you he'd put you into too much risk.

He couldn’t let that happen.

So he did what he always did.

He lied.

“I just need you to trust me,” he said even if his chest ached. “Please.”

You thought for a long moment, then shook your head with a sad smile even if he couldn't see you. “You say that like I don’t already.”

And that hurt more than any punch he’d ever taken.

Because he knew he was running out of chances. The more he lied the more it felt like you were walking away.

“Welp” you said, popping the P, as if trying to lighten up the mood, before taking a small pause. “I'm already half ready and Gwen really wants us to go to the party so if you change your mind just call me?”

"Okay," he whispered into the phone.

"Bye, Rafe." The call ended with a soft beep, leaving him alone with the silence. 

“i suck” He let out a heavy sigh, groaning as he flopped onto his bed. The mask, half-folded over his face, slipped down, unfolding on its own. It rested against his nose—a quiet, relentless reminder of the responsibilities he has over the city.

"Heyyyy!" Gwen called out, sprinting toward you from the front steps of the school, where she had been waiting. Her face lit up the moment she spotted you approaching.

You hesitated, glancing at the building behind her, you could hear music thumping from inside. 

“Rafe is not with you?” she asked, looking around you thinking she might have missed him.

“No, you know how he is. He bailed again” you sighed.

“What is his problem?” She didn't wait for an answer and continued, “you know what? let's forget about him and just have fun” she looped her arm with yours and instantly began dragging you.

The homecoming party was in full swing, music pounding against the walls, and laughter echoed through the gym where it took place. It reeked of sweat, and the floor was already sticky as if someone had dropped bottles of juice on the floor and honestly if Rafe was here you would have begged him to leave with you already.

You tried to enjoy the moment, despite the nagging feeling in the back of your mind. You clutched a red Solo cup filled with non alcoholic fruit punch, swirling the liquid mindlessly. You knew you’d only take a few sips—just enough to look like you were part of the fun.

Beside you, Gwen nudged your arm with a playful grin. “Come on, loosen up a little! It's homecoming, not a funeral.”

You laughed, rolling your eyes. “I’m trying, okay? This just isn’t really my scene.”

 “You mean you don’t love being crammed in a gym full of sweaty high schoolers who haven't  learned what deodorant is yet, with music so loud it could cause permanent hearing damage?” Gwen dramatically gasped.

“Shocking, right?” You smirked.

“Alright, no excuses. One dance. Then I’ll let you go back to brooding in the corner with your untouched fruit punch.” She grabbed your hand, pulling you toward the dance floor

You sighed but let her drag you along anyway , attempting to let go of the tension in your chest just for a few minutes.

But it didn't last long. 

A single phone rang loudly, cutting through the music—then another, and another, until the entire gym was filled with the sound of alerts. Conversations stopped, and a wave of confusion swept through the crowd as people scrambled to check their phones. Those who had left theirs at home leaned over shoulders, desperate to see what was happening.

It was an emergency alert.

A link attached to the notification led to a live report from a hovering news helicopter. The shaky footage showed Spider-Man in a brutal fight with something massive—a creature that towered over him. Gasps and murmurs spread through the party as people recognized what they were seeing.

Another lizard.

New York had seen its fair share of Dr. Curt Connors copycats, but this one was different. It was bigger—almost dinosaur-sized; its scaly skin was reflecting the city lights as it tore through the streets. The ground seemed to shake even through the screen.

“This… this one’s huge,” someone whispered, their voice barely audible over the growing panic.

The realization hit all at once. This wasn’t just another mad scientist playing with forbidden experiments and  chemicals. This was something worse. And it was heading straight for the school.

The battle outside was relentless. The massive Lizard roared, its tail whipping through the air, sending cars flying like toys that weighed nothing. Rafe gritted his teeth, webbing up debris and yanking himself through the air to keep up with the monster’s destructive path.

Every web he shot was torn apart and all his strength did nothing against the creature. Rafe's body ached, exhaustion creeping in faster than he wanted to admit. The Lizard was too strong, too fast, and it was pushing forward, heading straight toward the school. Toward you.

He forced himself to move, barely dodging a swipe of the creature’s paws. His vision blurred for a moment, his limbs trembling. His suit was torn. He was too weak. He wasn’t going to make it.  

Then he saw it. In that small moment of hesitation, that single breath he allowed himself to take, the monster had surged forward. Its massive feet slammed into the school celling, reducing the entrance to ashes. Dust and debris shot into the air as the walls groaned under its weight. His chest tightened—he had wasted precious seconds

A deafening explosion sent shockwaves through the school, knocking people off their feet. walls shattered, dust lifted in the air, screams filled the gym, all the lights were shut off putting the school in full black out and the once-lively party descended into chaos.

Everyone was running frantically, The entire building shook as you all felt the creature getting closer seeking destruction. All you could hear was the scream of people desperately trying to find an exit. 

“We have to go!” Gwen took your hand and began running but there was nowhere to run, the school was falling piece by piece.

The next thing you knew, the Lizard’s massive paw tore through the ceiling, debris raining down. Screams got louder and louder. It wasn’t just destroying the building—it was tearing apart anything in its path.

Even students.

You barely had time to process the horror unfolding before your eyes. The sickening sound of ripping metal, the desperate cries for help—it was too much. You wanted to run, to do something, but your body felt frozen in place, paralyzed by terror.

And then you saw it.

A lifeless hand, limp beneath the rubble. A shoe that hadn’t been there seconds ago. Blood smeared across the floor where moments earlier, there had been laughter.

Your breath hitched, your chest was tightening with a grief so sharp it felt like it might crush you. This wasn’t just destruction. It was a massacre..

You barely had time to process  it before a chunk of debris came crashing down—right toward you and a figure dressed in red and blue dropped from the ceiling and came at you as fast as light could travel.

In a blur of motion, you were flying through the air, held tightly against a strong chest. 

“You need to go!”  Spiderman yelled as soon as he dropped you back on your feet. But you couldn't hear him over the roars and the screams.

Before you could respond, a violent force knocked you both apart. You tumbled across the floor, the wind knocked from your lungs and the monster hovered over you. 

Spider-Man lunged, webbing the creature’s face and yanking it backward. “Run!” he shouted at you, desperation in his tone. He fought with everything he had, flipping, dodging, striking with all the strength he could collect. But the Lizard was relentless.

Then, in the chaos, you tried to run—but the Lizard’s tail lashed out, striking you hard. The sound of impact was harsh. You hit the ground with a sickening thud.

“No!” Rafe’s voice cracked, Something inside him snapped. Rage flooded his veins, and every ache, every ounce of exhaustion vanished.

With a furious roar, he attacked. His punches came harder, his movements faster. He webbed the Lizard’s limbs, yanking it into the ground with a force that shattered concrete. He didn’t let up. He couldn’t. Not after what had just happened.

Finally, with one last web the monster was tied to the floor unmoving and unconscious, the host of the lizard and succumbed.

But none of it mattered.

Rafe stumbled toward you, collapsing beside you before pulling his mask up to truly see you.

 “No, no, no—come on” he pleaded, his hands lifted your head up and he felt the liquid pouring out of the large gash behind your head. His blood stained hands trembled as he brushed the hair from your face, his vision blurred with tears. “Please, Y/n—”

Your eyes fluttered open slightly, breathing shallow. A weak, bittersweet smile ghosted your lips. “I always knew,” you whispered. “I always knew it was you.”

Rafe froze, his breath catching in his throat.

“I just… wished you told me,” You murmured, fingers barely gripping his suit. “I still would’ve… loved you.”

Tears streamed down his face. “No, don’t—don’t talk like that. You’re going to be okay. I promise, I—”

But you exhaled one last breath, your hand slipping from his suit. Your body went still.

“Please, no. i love you” he lifted your body further into his as if his warmth could bring you back but it didn't.

And after that moment the canon remained intact.