#the craziest part is they never realize it either.

[odysseys-blood]

you know how betraying it feels to just be vibing and somebody says some weird shit now you feel like you dont need to be here.

[crowcryptid]

Certified florida moment.

[har-har-harvey]

of course! while you’re here can i bounce off the walls talking a mile a minute, knowing that you’re listening and very happy to be there

well???

[wisecura]

My Leader

Cult Leader Suguru x f!Reader 4k

an: did anyone ask for this? oh yeah! I did. enjoy my unrequested fantasy. this might be bad but oh well haha

summary: suguru geto was all for the betterment of the world—eradicating the non-sorcerers in society, and collecting people to stand in the new world with him. it's no different when he finds you—an untrained sorcerer, so eager and desperate for validation—a hint at sanity when no one else could see the monsters around you. but what happens if he takes you in only to find himself changing his mind.

warnings: pwp, voyeurism, gore, blood, murder, dark undertones, size kink, smut, you aren't in your right mind either, fingering, marking, manipulation, belittling and teasing, minors DNI

The last thing on your bucket list in life would’ve been joining a cult. 

Seriously, cult life was definitely not where you saw yourself in your early twenties—with all the time in the world still ahead of you. But, well, here you were.

That priest you'd met earlier? He'd been nothing short of a lighthouse for you—a beacon of hope during those endless, stressful days. You know, the ones haunted by those demon-looking creatures lurking just out of sight. And the craziest part? Nobody else seemed to see them. Yeah, you were pretty much alone in this freaky ghost-seeing club.

So, imagine the relief when the fifth priest you consulted turned out to be pure gold—a genuine miracle worker. Not only did he validate your sanity, but he also managed to kick that pesky little demon parasite on your shoulder to the curb. And suddenly, the world felt lighter. Easier.

And when he offered you a spot by his side, it didn't take much to convince you. Especially after he mentioned that those 'curses' were likely to make a comeback. Joining him seemed like a no-brainer.

But six months in with this man, and there was no ignoring the raw sex appeal he radiated. Standing several inches above you, he was large and imposing—hitting all your size-kink checkboxes. His features were sharply handsome, with plush lips that sparked envy and hair that never seemed out of place. His eyes? Absolutely captivating. Really, what did this man not have that wouldn't cause any sane woman to go feral? 

No wife, not even a girlfriend in sight, but he had two adoptive daughters whom he treated with the utmost care. A family man, right?

You hadn't fully realized what you were getting into when you'd first signed on—then again, you hadn't exactly been in your right mind. How else would you find the nerve to talk to such a handsome man without immediately dropping to your knees? 

And you were pretty sure Suguru wasn't all there either. He'd woven tales about jujutsu sorcerers, depicted them as the apex of evolution, even hinting that you had the potential to be one of them.

Something about ‘cursed energy’ or another. But he didn’t seem all that interested in filling you in on the rest. And you didn’t ask. Why bother when he was providing you a cushy life at the temple?

He treated you differently from the other cult members, always keeping you close. You never missed a service, always stationed right beside him. Silently, you'd watched as he delivered his visions of a new world. You tried to be the attentive follower you were supposed to be, but damn, he looked so good when he monologued. You practically swooned.

And he kept you around his girls, a privilege most other members couldn't even fathom—many didn’t even know they existed. You found yourself cooking for them, gradually forging your own little bond. They warmed up to you quickly, and it didn’t exactly come as a shock when they started seeing you as a mother figure.

This setup couldn’t have been better for Suguru, whose plans for you seemed singularly focused—your confinement.

You appeared so willing, so easygoing, so content under his care. 'Confinement' might sound a bit severe—maybe 'ensured stay' fits better? Whatever you chose to call it, Suguru wasn’t planning on letting you go anytime soon.

Just as you saw him as a shining beacon, he saw you as a diamond in the rough—a pretty little thing that happened to stumble into his temple. Desperate for answers, you had long since lost faith in any conventional sanctuary.

So, you found a cult.

A notorious one at that.

He wasn’t sure if you were aware of their more nefarious misdeeds—he was skilled at keeping things under wraps. The money he brought in always came from questionable sources, but you never pried. So he never told.

You meshed nicely with his chosen family, fitting in with everyone and proving quite useful. It felt out of character for him, but he couldn’t help it. The thought of your sweet, motherly image being tainted by the torturous grip of sorcerer politics just didn’t sit right with him.

No—you belonged in his temple. Guided cage ‘n all, well-supported, well-supplied, and nicely kept.

And maybe, when the time was right, he’d formally place his mark on you—maybe with a ring? Or perhaps a few choice bite marks? You always did wear those low-cut pajamas during breakfast, the expanse of your neck tantalizingly on display. You were definitely taunting him, that was for sure. He had plenty of ideas about what to do with you.

“Suguru?” 

Your voice, melodic even this early in the morning, managed to grab his attention—even before the coffee had kicked in. His name coming off your lips was sinful.

"Suguru?" You try again. His expression is dazed, distracted. The girls had already left for their tutoring sessions, leaving you alone with the enigmatic man.

Sometimes, you couldn’t quite figure him out. His moods swung wildly—from passive-aggressive and temperamental to overly dramatic. Charming, sure, but definitely a handful. Then there were moments like now, where he sat at the table, calm and stoic, clearly preoccupied with something on his mind.

“Mhm?” He hummed in response, as you set down another serving of eggs and rice. You didn’t know how to phrase the question, and you didn’t know what made you so nervous about asking. You were a human being, so this shouldn’t be an issue, free will ‘n all. “I was thinking of going out today. Did you...did you need me to pick anything up.” 

He paused at this, his brow raising inquisitively. "...What would you need to go out for?"

"Ah, well, a bit of this and that," you trailed off, looking away shyly. Truthfully, you wanted to pick up something for him as a way to say thanks, and maybe something for the girls too. Your money had been sitting idle, practically rotting in the bank—and you felt an urge to spoil the only people who seemed to care for you in your life. But he didn’t need to know that.

“Mmm, this and that?” He contemplated, his hand trailing back through his hair. “...Are you....that fed up with us?” You glanced over, hoping to find a teasing smile on his lips—only to meet his eyes downcast, locked onto the table. Melancholic.

You felt your heart ache at his words, you hadn’t meant to upset him. "Ah, no! I, uh—actually just wanted to pick up a few things. Why do you think I'd want away from you guys?" Your voice trailed off, a small laugh attempting to lighten the mood, as you made your own plate. "You’re my family now, after all."

His eyes raked down your back, unbeknownst to you. The situation was far from ideal, but he was determined to keep you content enough not to leave. Perhaps he could even scare you into staying? Your name slipped effortlessly from his lips, a breathy utterance that gripped his chest—selling his concern perfectly.

“I’m worried about you, y'know?”

“Worried? Why?” You continued your setup, your back unsuspectingly facing him.

“If anyone outside of here spots you...well, I’m not exactly a celebrated man in the sorcerer community. They could easily take you the second you step out of this temple. And you’re practically a magnet for those curses—that energy you put off is something else.” His voice trailed off as his mind seemed to drift away, even as you peeked over your shoulder at him.

You weren't completely in the dark about his reputation in the community-the fearful stares from one or two of the followers told you that. You weren't even surprised about his growing concern for you. It was nice, in a way, having someone like him show this level of concern for you.

"Really, it means a lot that you're looking out for me, Suguru. I love that you keep me safe—I do, but I also don't want to just take from you all the time," you say, turning fully to face him, the concern evident in your eyes.

He flashes you a reassuring, warming smile, that makes your chest stutter. "I understand, but you're not just taking. You're a part of this family, a crucial part. It's my responsibility to keep you safe, and I take that seriously," he explains, his tone gentle yet firm. "Maybe, for now, online shopping could be a better option. It'll keep you out of sight from those who might not understand our...situation here. You can still have some independence without the risk. How does that sound?"

It wasn't exaclty a questions and more like a rule he's already set in place. His words hang in the air, wrapped in the guise of caring, yet subtly steering you to remain within the confines of the temple, minimizing your contact with the outside world.

Those next few months settled into a routine, and you never left the temple as per Suguru's 'request'. But during his sermons, you couldn't help but notice a strange man in the congregation—an older dude who couldn't seem to take his eyes off you. It was unsettling, creepy even, and every time you caught his gaze, it made you want to leave the room immediately.

And when you were handing out the pamphlets for the evening, his hand managed to pass along your hand just a little too sensually, causing you to jerk back, as if burned. Your polite smile still remained but you couldn't stop the uneasy turning of your stomach.

You tried your best to ignore it, concentrating instead on the magnetic presence of Suguru, the leader whose charisma had always managed to overshadow any discomfort. Focusing on him, with his intense gaze and compelling sermons, you hoped the creepy feelings triggered by that strange man's stares would simply melt away.

For a time, it seemed to work. The incident faded to the back of your mind, barely a blip on your radar—that is, until Suguru himself brought it up.

It was after dinner, during your usual walk back to your room, a routine that had become a comforting part of your daily life under his watch. As you strolled down the quiet corridor, his voice broke the silence, casual yet probing. “Did you know that man?”

His gaze was stern, pinning you under a scrutiny that seemed to see right through you. You could have played dumb, feigned ignorance, and questioned which man he was referring to. Maybe then he would've let it go, attributing it to his own overprotectiveness. Maybe.

But you didn't like the way that man's eyes had roamed over you, as if he was trying to claim you or imagining what lay beneath your clean robes. Maybe Suguru would do something about it? After all, he often dismissively called his followers 'monkeys,' a clear sign he didn't hold them in high regard. “No, I don’t know him,” you responded, a shiver running through you that Suguru didn't miss. “He’s a bit weird, right? I didn’t think you had followers like that.”

His gaze held yours for a moment longer, pausing you both in the hall. The dim moonlight streaming through a nearby window could have given the scene a nearly romantic quality if not for the concern etched deep within his furrowed brow. “Alright,” he finally said, the word hanging in the air before he turned to continue guiding you back to your room.

That was it. No further questions, no reassurances—just a simple acknowledgment and then moving on. It felt anticlimactic, almost dismissive, and a part of you felt almost offended.

But then again, what had you really expected?

That was what you thought before you saw red. 

But it wasn't just the red. It was the heavy, metallic, coppery smell that suddenly choked the air, thick and invasive. The way the splatter violently stained your white robes, soaking into the fabric, marring them beyond recognition. The congealed remnants of what once was a person spread grotesquely across the cold floor, as his lifeless eyes stared back at you. His mouth hung open in a final, silent scream of horror as if he could still hear the words spewing from the priest's mouth. 

“Does anyone else have any issues with this?” The question sliced through the tense silence of what seemed like a routine board meeting, discussing the mundane affairs of the company. Suguru's tone was far too light, disturbingly cavalier, given the blood soaking his front, nonchalantly wiping off a stray drop that had dared to mar his gorgeous face. To your surprise, no one objected, their eyes locked on the decapitated head lying before you. You had seen the curse—the one that had been produced and sent by Suguru. And maybe you were the crazy one for feeling a little flustered by his actions—heart fluttering.

Or should they be called reactions? The so-called necessary consequences he deemed necessary for your safety.

“Suguru.” His eyes shifted back to you, almost expecting to find fear. The sight of blood wasn’t for everyone, and he was fully prepared to sic a curse on you should you attempt to flee. But what he was met with was so unexpected—your flushed face, your grip tight on his sleeve, almost like clinging to your own lifeline. That oh-so-adorable look in your eyes, innocently seeking his attention.

This had been a bit of a test, an evaluation to see how you would respond to his more...abrasive nature. And he just couldn't stand the way that 'monkey' had his eyes locked on you, the way his fingers had dared to trail over your sleeve—as if he had the right to touch.

As you reached over to wipe a lingering trace of blood from his cheek, his reaction was swift, instantly, his hand snaps around your wrist. His eyes rake over you, and the disapproval in his gaze makes you feel a wave of self-consciousness wash over you.

"That filthy monkey blood is all over you now," he remarks, his tone dripping with disdain. After a moment's pause, a small smile curls the corners of his mouth. His grip remains firm on your wrist as he guides you over to his seat at the front of the congregation, giving you a thorough once-over before finally releasing you. 

Nonchalantly, he shrugs the top of his robes down his shoulders, revealing a chest and abs that are absolutely sculpted to impossible perfection.

You'd always known he was handsome, but this? This was something else. He was not just attractive- he was, without a doubt, ripped. Settling down, he effortlessly pulls you into his lap, facing him. You're up close now, close enough to see the way he gazed so affectionately down at you—your heart racing and skipping several beats in response.

If you were blushing before, now you were certain you must look as bright as a tomato. You avert your gaze, only to find yourself face-to-face with his impeccably sculpted chest. Your hands, you realize, are already on him—likely from when he first pulled you onto his lap.

A smug smirk plays across his lips as he scans the crowd, his gaze predatory and possessive. It's a clear message to everyone present: you were off-limits to anyone but him. Held in his strong arms, you feel almost too soft, so compliant and utterly his, as if you belonged nowhere else but here.

His whisper is just for you, a soft murmur that tickles your ear, “Do you like what you see?” His eyes remain fixed on the crowd behind you, and thank god for that—you're practically melting in his lap. You're at a loss for words, and though under different circumstances you might have shot back a flirty retort, the intensity of the moment leaves you speechless.

His gaze locks with yours again, piercing and intense. He scrutinizes your form once again—flushed and trembling, the ugly stains of blood soaked into your clothes. Your clothes.

His hands begin to undo the lace at the front of your robes. In a panic, you reach up to stop him, embarrassed—not necessarily by his attention, but overwhelmingly by the many eyes watching from behind. "Suguru," you hiss, your voice a whisper thick with embarrassment and a plea for some semblance of privacy or restraint.

But his gaze halts you. It's firm, stern—like a mother scolding her child. Overwhelmed by his intense stare, your resistance melts away. You find yourself clinging to his arms, resting your head against his chest as he peels away the robes stained by the blood, liberating your skin from the filth. 

“Did I say you could leave?”

At his words, the shuffling of footsteps behind you to come to an abrupt halt. You can almost sense the veiled fear and shock painting the faces of those behind you, the tension in the air so thick it’s suffocating, uncuttable even with the sharpest blade. As you squirm uncomfortably in his lap, you feel the unmistakable shift of the large bulge beneath you. This fucker was actually turned on by this? 

But were you any better? You buried your face even deeper into his chest, inadvertently drawing his smug attention. "What's wrong, princess? You feelin’ shy?" His tone was taunting, so uncharacteristic of him. You'd never heard anything like that from those lips in all the time you'd known him, and that thought alone made you want to bury your face in a pillow and scream. 

You nod, barely managing to keep your composure, only to feel his hands, which had been supporting his weight behind him, shift up to your thighs, drawing you even closer. The movement causes your panty-clad pussy to rub against the large snake you were saddled on. You hadn't intended to let out that needy whimper, but the accidental friction against your clit had you digging your nails in tighter. 

"Is my sweet girl actually wet?" His tone is laced with mock disbelief. You don’t respond, but that doesn’t deter him, his fingers reaching between your legs, seeking confirmation for himself. You feel this thumb graze that oh so exquisitely sensitive spot, leaving you jolting in his lap, his fat fingers grazing past your clit over to your slick drippy folds.

“Tsk tsk tsk, sweet girl, you’re practically dripping. Are you alright?” His voice drips with obvious mock concern, and the distraction of his thumb pressing back against your button, drawing circles–makes it impossible to form a coherent response.

"You're all worked up—so red. You must've been so upset when that bastard put his hands on you," he murmurs, and your back arches as he picks up the pace, his hand circling your waist to hold you flush against him. His touch is assertive, almost commanding, drawing reactions from you that you'd never gotten from a toy.

"Uh uh, look here," his voice suddenly goes cold, detached. Your eyes snap up to his face, only to find his gaze directed over your shoulder, at the long since forgotten crowd behind you. Oh shit. What were you doing? His next words slice through the thick air, his tone sharp as a knife.

"You monkeys seem to forget your place." The room holds it's breath, and suddenly, you're painfully aware of the many eyes on you, the precarious position you're in—a spectacle for the small crowd. A shudder travels down your spine as his fingers relentlessly continue their exploration. You can't stop the slick trail trailing from you, soaking your underwear further. Your hips buck involuntarily towards his hand, even as his words echo hollowly through the room. "Should I just remind you? None of you should be touching what isn’t yours…"

The word "yours" spins your head, and you shamelessly whimper out. "My naughty girl, do you really enjoy this that much?" His tone is teasing, yet there's an edge of possession that sends another shiver through you. His touch intensifies again, and you tremble beneath him, overwhelmed by his presence.

Pulling away, he finally gives your chest some much-needed attention, slipping the cup of your bra below your rounded tits. His gaze is appreciative as he kneads one into his mouth, sucking greedily. And in an instant you're pinned to the floor beneath him, flat on your back, his bulge still pressing insistently against you. 

The shift is swift, his body covering yours, providing the room an unobstructed view of him devouring you. Yet, your focus remains solely on him—his broad shoulders, the smooth expanse of his chest, and the stiff muscles that hint at hours spent perfecting them. Your eyes finally settle on the large bulge that he keeps grinding into you.

And grind he does, his clothed cock taking over the work of his fingers, each motion stripping your throat of the whimpers and whines that spill forth—sounds that surely only spur him on further.

Caught in this intense, consuming moment, you're hyper-aware of every contact, every movement, and every gaze set on you, heightening every sensation as you lose yourself to the rhythm he dictates. He’s a greedy lover, taking every inch he can get before finally pulling himself free from his robes, his cock springing forth—thick and demanding.

His gaze is hungry as he eyes you, leaning in closer, his breath hot against your ear as he whispers darkly, "You like putting on a show, don't you? Just look at you, so desperate and dripping for me while they all watch. You’re nothing but a little exhibitionist, aren’t you?"

His words are taunting, debauched, as your pussy clenches, a flush of shame and excitement as he pulls your panties down teasingly slow. Straightening to his full height, he sighs at the sight of your pretty pink folds, completely on display for him. He’d be the one to ruin you, of course. No one else was allowed to touch what was his.

He spits on his length, a heavy sheen as he strokes in long and slow passes over his bulbous head. Your eyes are fixated on the curve, every inch of him on display. His eyes remain fixed on the heave of your chest, his words only for you, "You're completely mine, aren't you? Every shiver, every sigh... I want them all." Before you can answer, he has himself positioned at your entrance, sheathing himself completely inside you, filling your clingy pussy entirely in one fluid motion. 

The guttural moan he shares with you is nothing short of primal, as he pulls back and then hammers back into you with a quick, forceful thrusts, your honeyed slickness making it all too easy. The furrow in his brow is ever-present, his gaze locked on you with an intensity that's damn near animalistic. You don't recognize the man filling you so completely.

You reach up to touch him, but one of his meaty hands pins both of yours above your head in a swift, assertive move, his strength incomparable. "Feels so good, princess, so fucking good, aah," his words stutter out, breathlessly, as his hips meet yours again in a relentless, brutal pace.

His cock stretches you perfectly, hitting that sweet spot that always seemed to elude the ex-boyfriends you'd dated. The slaps of his hips meeting your dripping pussy were echoing the room, as your head lolled back you managed to catch sight of a few of the faces of the men watching, and you had half a mind to be embarrassed. You whimpered, trying to hit your face into the crook of your shoulder, only to have his other hand snap onto your chin, his dick continuing the abuse your cervix.

Leaning in close, his breath hot against your ear, he whispers huskily, "C'mon now, don’t play shy." You could hear the grin in his voice, "You aren’t fooling anyone, not with the way this cunt is clenching me—ngh—so fucking—good." His words punctuated by each powerful thrust into your sopping hole, his breathing growing heavier as his fat balls slapped against you. You've never come without your clit being teased before, but you were sure you could squirt all over him from those words and his stretch alone.

"Such a pretty little slut for me," he growled as he drove into you, "lettin’ me stuff you so full." His words came out in low purrs, his hand still firmly clamped on your wrists and chin, ensuring you couldn’t see anyone else but him. "Gonna let me breed you in front of all these pathetic bastards? Show everyone who owns this cunt?" You felt your pussy clamp down tightly on him—earning a sharp hiss from him as he tightened his grip around your neck. You could barely breathe, your vision narrowing as you came hard around his cock, your body stiffening, unable to think straight. 

He continued to fuck you stupid, relentless, "You love being my filthy little fuck toy, don't you?" his breath, hot against your ear. "Just a wet hole for me to use, right in front of everyone." You couldn't even make a sound, your head fuzzy and body already sore. "fucking—ngh—gonna breed this pussy full, baby—gonna—mmgh," His voice was ragged as your walls spasmed around him, his hold on your neck like a predator with limp prey, as he let out the loudest moan yet, "gonna cum, gonna—" and with that, he spilled himself deep inside you, his hot seed mixing with your release.

You felt his hips continue to rut against you, his gaze fierce and possessive—a rabid dog with his treat, heaving, refusing to pull out. He unclenched your neck as you gasped in a deep, burning breath of air, lungs finally refilling. The onlookers were the furthest thing from your mind, until you were abruptly brought back to reality by his commanding voice–leaving no room for argument,

"Now get the fuck out of here." 

As the command left his lips, the onlookers, still frozen from the raw display they had witnessed, hesitated for a moment before scrambling away. All you heard were retreating footsteps. The room quickly emptied, leaving just the echo of their footsteps and the heavy breathing that filled the space between you and him.

Still inside you, he leaned down, his face inches from yours, his eyes still burning with that possessive intensity. "Look at what you do to me," he rasped, voice thick with satisfaction. His fingers trailed lazily over your skin, marking paths where his earlier grip had been.

He pushed back into you slowly, coaxing a whimper from your oversensitive body, "Just look at you, all flushed and beautifully wrecked for me. You took me so well," he praised, his tone heavy with satisfaction. His fingers delicately traced the marks his grip had left on your neck, his mark now visibly etched onto your skin.

"You're mine, remember that. Every inch of you, every gasp, everything—it all belongs to me."

come home

[nyaagolor]

One of the things about Natsuhi that really gets me is that she’s trying so hard to be a tradwife to cope with her situation but like. She’s bad at it. She’s really really bad at being a tradwife. She’s short tempered, belligerent, easily baited by basically anyone trying to get a rise out of her, and constantly makes her husband look worse in her attempts to defend him. She never sits quietly at his side, she never listens when he’s trying to get her to stop and let him do the talking, and she’s constantly taking charge of situations in his stead. Honestly, she just doesn’t have the temperament to be a tradwife, even if she thinks that’s what she is and what she wants.

And what’s the craziest about this is that Sayo figured this out before Natsuhi herself did. Natsuhi is someone who tries to cling onto power in any and every situation she can, in part because she ultimately doesn’t have any agency at all. She tries to find an angle through which to look at her life where she’s the one calling the shots, where she’s the one in charge, because in her super traditionalist framework that’s what autonomy is— it’s always just been punching down. In her mind, punishment and power might as well be synonymous; you’re either being told what to do or telling others what to do.

Natushi could never be the proper, submissive wife that she’s trying to be because she’s just not that good at lying to herself. She’s constantly trying to power grab in petty situations, to overcome the lack of autonomy she’s so frustrated about by throwing her weight around whenever she can. And I think that’s exactly why Sayo gave her the unloaded gun. Natushi immediately becomes bolder— she lashes out, she takes command of situations, she’s confident— because to her the gun is just the physical manifestation of having the agency to be those things at all. She can take charge of situations because in her mind she’s gotten the power to do so now— agency over herself is always coupled with power over others to her. But the gun was always empty and the promise was always false.

It doesn’t matter how Natsuhi feels or what power she wields over the people beneath her, because she never really had any autonomy so long as she was Ushiromiya Natsuhi. She was and is only ever allowed to do what they permitted. When she fights with Eva in the family conferences, it’s because Krauss is wiling to sit back and let her be the scapegoat. She can bully the servants because the people in the house who are actually supposed to be in charge of them don’t care. Natsuhi fights like a dog for any semblance of power or choice in the narrative, not realizing it’s still within the confines of what the people who have stolen her agency are allowing her have. She’s given a metaphorical gun to wave around, but even though it smokes and fires and makes noise, there was never any real threat to the people who gave it to her, because she was given the gun unloaded. Perhaps more importantly though, she doesn’t know the difference

[n0ahsebastians]

a million one, a million two, your house all the way to the moon; part one

someone requested a one shot of noah and reader’s wedding day/night and i’m FINALLY writing it !! this will be in 2 parts, so here’s part one!! the wedding day !! i hope you all enjoy, this was so much fun to write ☺️☺️

(title of one shot taken from ‘simple math’ by the wldlfe)

no triggers, just fluff and cuteness :3

 He never thought he’d be here right now, dress pants and a black tux shirt adorning his frame. He’d never worn anything this uncomfortable in his entire life, he was sure of it. But he was doing it for her, for them. He could not believe this was happening. He didn’t think he was even deserving of this, of her. He remembered so vividly the day he had asked her. Just simply sitting on the couch eating ramen. He couldn’t stop looking at her the entire time. 

“Why are you looking at me like that?” she had asked, a smile pulling at the corners of her mouth. He smiled back, shaking his head. 

“I can’t look at you?”

“Well I mean…yes. But why?”

“I have a question for you.” He could feel the way his heart started racing before he even got the question out. His hands were starting to sweat and his ears were ringing. This was the most nervous he had ever been in his entire life, he thought. 

“Okay?” She set her bowl of soup down, pulling her feet up onto the couch and crossing her legs. She turned to face him. “What’s up?”

“Umm…well…”

She raised her eyebrows at him. Why was he acting like this? Nervous as hell?

“Noah, are you alright honey?” She reached out to touch his cheek. Her hands were chilly against the heat of his skin and she pulled away for a brief second. 

“You’re warm.” Her brow furrowed as she examined his face some more.

“I’m fucking scared,” he finally blurted out, reaching into his pocket to pull out the small box he’d had in there since 10am. A small breath escaped her lips as the realization hit her. Noah wipes his sweaty hands onto his sweats, setting the box on top of his knee.

“But I love you. I love you more than anything in this entire world, and I’m fucking lucky you’re mine. I know I’m away a lot, even when I’m home. I disappear for hours and I know you say you’re okay with it because it’s my career. And it makes me love you even more.”

Tears are beginning to well in her eyes and she laughs gently as he continues with his speech.

“You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me,” he reaches for her hands, lacing them together. “I want you everyday for the rest of my life,” he opens the box, revealing a small ring inside, “if you’ll have me.”

She laughs again, leaning forward to kiss him softly. He chuckles against her lips, cupping her cheeks in his hands, wiping away the tears that continue to fall down them.

“I love you,” she whispers, kissing him again. “You’re my everything.”

“You’ll marry me?”

“Of fucking course I’ll marry you,” like it’s the craziest question he’s ever asked her. He slides the ring onto her finger, watching the way she lights up even more at the small band that’s now a permanent promise between them.

“That’s been sitting in my pocket since you woke up this morning,” he admits, kissing her again. She giggles, threading her fingers through his hair. 

“Can’t believe you didn’t blow it sooner.”

“Well asking you while you’re sitting on the toilet probably would’ve been the wrong time.”

She lets out a boisterous laugh, covering her face with her hands and wiping her cheeks with the back of her hand.

“While eating ramen though was perfect. An A plus for you, my love.”

Noah smiles cheekily at his now fianceé, thinking that she could not get more beautiful than she was right now. 

Except for today. She was so beautiful, he thought. In her black pantsuit to match his own tux. She swore she would not wear a dress and he knew she meant it. He was glad she didn’t, she was perfect either way though. She was perfect to him no matter what she wore. 

Davis, Matt, Folio, Jolly, Nicholas, and Bryan were all by his side that day. His brothers. She had her mom, her two sisters, and three of her closest friends, all gathered with them in the courthouse. They had talked about not doing anything too big. They wanted something small from the beginning and they thought just a courthouse wedding was both their style. 

Noah kept messing with his collar the entire time they were waiting to walk out to the judge. He hated feeling restricted in any way with his clothing and he felt that at this very moment. Davis tried to help loosen the buttons on the collar but it was no use; he still felt incredibly restricted.

Until she walked in. He honestly felt that that was the problem. He needed to see her at least once before they became husband and wife. 

“You need to stop messing with it hun,” she told him, giving a wink to Davis who she knew had been trying to help him this whole time. 

“I’m trying but it’s fucking suffocating me, it feels like.”

He was getting frustrated, she could tell.

“Come here.”

She took him by the hand, walking down the hallway to one of the small rooms they had been allowed to use to get ready. She shut the door, locking it behind her. 

“What do you need?” She tried her best to relax him, running her hands up and down his clothed arms, over his cheeks. He was so warm, he had to have been burning up in this suit. 

“I need this…fucking suit off.” 

“Okay, hey. Look at me.”

He did. He took a shuddering breath and tried his best to stay as calm as possible. He knew this would happen and now he feels horrible. This day was supposed to be about them, about them uniting their love.

Instead he was having a fucking panic attack over his damn suit collar.

“Just breathe okay? Just breathe.”

He closed his eyes, took deep breaths in and out as he tried to calm himself down. He eventually got himself to where his suit didn’t feel so tight on him anymore.

“Sorry,” he said sheepishly. She smiled softly at him.

“You never have to be sorry, love. I’m here for you now and always.”

He smiled at her, leaned forward to kiss her gently. Just letting their lips rest against one another’s for a moment. Letting them revel in their last moments as fiancés. He rests their foreheads together, running his fingers up and down the length of her arms, feeling the warmth of her skin for a moment. 

“I love you,” he whispers, his breath fanning against her lips. 

“I love you most.”

“Let’s get fucking married,” he pulls her in tight, kissing her again. She laughs against his mouth.

“Let’s do it, baby.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Do you, (Reader’s name) take this man, Noah Sebastian Davis, to be your lawfully wedded husband, in sickness and in health, for better or for worse, as long as you both shall live?”

She was already crying before the judge had even got the words out. Their families were standing with them, smiling from ear to ear, laughter and tears from both sides as everyone shared stories of hers and Noah’s lives. Years before they ever knew each other. It made her love him even more as he squeezed her hands in his at the judge’s words. 

“I do,” she said, her mother’s small “Yay!” causing the room to erupt in laughter. 

“Thank god,” Jolly jokingly replies, earning another laugh among everyone. 

“And do you, Noah, take (Reader’s full name) to be your lawfully wedded wife, in sickness and in health, for better or for worse, as long as you both shall live?”

“Fuck yes, I do.”

She smiles so brightly as the laughter continues between them, the judge closing his book and asking for the rings. Nicholas brings one, her older sister brings the other. She places the ring on Noah’s finger, watching the way the gold band reflects off the light in the courtroom and she begins to cry again. Noah places her ring against her engagement ring, letting out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. They lace their fingers together, knowing it’s so close to them finally being man and wife. 

“So we’ve placed the rings on each other. You’ve now been united as one,” the judge says, smiling at her and Noah. 

“By the power invested in me by the great state of California, and the county of Los Angeles, I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may now kiss your bride, Noah!”

Applause from the twelve family members erupts as Noah pulls her in tight, kissing her with everything he has. He cups her cheeks, running his thumbs over her cheekbones, the gentleness of his tongue pushing against her lips as she wraps her arms around his neck. 

“I love you so fucking much,” he whispers so only his wife can hear him. His wife. 

The cheers and hoots and hollers continue from the boys and her sister and friends. 

“I love love love you,” she says, kissing him again. “You’re my husband.” She says it like she can’t believe it’s real; she’s so full of love and emotion for this man in front of her. So incredibly in love with him she thinks she might explode.

“You’re my wife,” he says, tears falling down his cheeks. She wipes them away as they stay in their little bubble for a bit longer while everyone around them starts dancing in the courthouse. 

“Do you think we should give them some attention now?” he asks. She giggles, leaning in for another kiss, running her thumbs against the tears that have stained into his cheeks.

“Okay now we can.” 

They walk hand in hand out the courthouse doors, standing out in the hot sun to celebrate. Noah continues to complain about his collar being too tight on his neck and he’s finally able to loosen it a bit. With help from her and Davis of course. Bryan takes pictures, ones they’ll hang in their home to commemorate the day. There’s candids, kisses, and tears. There’s also laughs, intimacy, and a love so strong between everyone that gathered with them today. Noah knows he’ll remember this day for the rest of his life.

“I love you, baby,” Noah whispers into her hair as they finish up their photoshoot and walk hand in hand back to the courthouse to get ready for the reception. 

“I love you most.” 

[alessiathepirate]

Scream

REFLECTION: Stu Macher x fem!reader; Billy Loomis x fem!reader

Summary: As she looks around the shrine, she can't help but reflect on how she has become who she is...

Notes: English isn't my first language. I apologize for any mistake I made while I wrote this short story.

This is the craziest thing I've ever written... I hope you'll enjoy reading it :)

Warnings: SPOILERS! (for mainly Scream 1, 5 and 6), unhealthy relationships, mental instability, blood, violence, referenced death

•••

Walking around the shrine and examining the collection of sold evidence made her realize that she is walking down memory lane. The knives, the clothes and the memories of the people who once owned them were all parts of her life; were all parts of her actions and then the consequences of those which made her into who she is today.

She wasn't the only one thinking that. It was enough to look at everyone else's expression to know they too were overcome by memories. They were all parts of the still ongoing franchise, they are still playing their parts in it, even if nowadays they have new friends to either suspect or worry about.

The most interesting and with that scariest part of the shrine was the costumes. All of them thoughtfully put to place, still holding the blood and DNA of both victim and killer.

That was the aspect she seemed interested in. Walking up towards it, ignoring the others' voices got her to a whole another world.

Nothing else, but her and the costume, her and her memories, her and her reflection on the glass.

'Billy Loomis' was carved into the cabinet where the glass ended, making the whole thing look like a trophy. It was one perhaps, but not without its pair. She never understood how only one was thought about as the original, when clearly two should've been put behind that glass.

Looking at the costume and then at the knife while she could see her reflection, let some pushed away memories up to the surface.

They were either memories from 1996 or the years before that and even though she should've thought about them as the lies and as the worst memories of her life, she liked those - maybe a bit too much. Even though everyone except the psychos out there thought about Woodsboro and about Billy Loomis and Stu Macher as a very dark part of a long timeline, she couldn't agree with them. She accepted that they are right. Murders aren't acceptable, threats aren't acceptable... But other than her moral code nothing else in her wanted to see that.

She didn't want to see that, because 1996 was the best year of her life - and the years before that held her happiest memories.

She remembered how she befriended the boys - Billy and Stu - and how through them she got to know Sidney, Tatum and Randy. But even though she liked all of them, her relationship with the two boys was stronger than others.

"I thought you invited me over to study." she remembered herself saying on a winter day after she arrived at Stu's place. Even now thinking about is, she still wanted to laugh at how quickly they took her backback and helped her take off her coat.

"Yes, but this is more important than some sappy project about Romeo and Juliet." Stu explained after he threw her backpack next to the coat hanger, stopping her from picking it up. He then put his hands on her shoulders, pushing her towards the living room.

"You mean the Hamlet. We have to make the project about the Hamlet. Sidney has to make one about Romeo and Juliet."

"Whatever! We can do that later, but now look at what we've got for you."

She looked at Billy with a smile. He held a video tape in his hands.

"What's that?" she asked with a small giggle, because Stu put his whole bodyweight on her as he hugged her and they almost fell.

"We'll have a movie night. We never had one with you so now it's time to make up for the lost time."

"All right, you've got me." she chuckled after she got out of Stu's grip, because he started to tickle her. "What are we watching?"

"You said you've never seen Halloween-"

"So let me guess, we are watching Halloween?"

They did. And they most definitely haven't done any schoolwork that day. They just sat on the couch with her in the middle. She had some popcorn in her lap. Her back was pushed against Stu's shoulder while her legs were stretched out across Billy's thighs.

And the amout of information she recieved... They used this and that for blood, they did this scene like this, that actor can be seen in another horror movies as well... It wasn't annoying at all. In fact she hadn't had more fun watching Halloween since that day.

The only problem they had was the fact that she wasn't scared - at all.

"What, you want me to climb on top of you in fear?" she joked and threw a piece of popcorn at Stu after she saw his expression and deduced the things he wanted to say. "Besides it's pretty hard to get scared if I have to sit between two experts who spoil everything."

She wanted to say that they were friends. And they were, she knew they thought about her as a friend at the start as well. Even though later she understood that that day they just wanted to test her and her fears. They wanted to see her reactions to know if she's really who they thought she was.

But later there started to be one issue in that friendship. Friends don't kiss. They don't make out or cuddle like couples do.

God, how awful she felt! She couldn't look Sidney or Tatum in the eye for weeks, and she had to avoid the boys for a while.

Her first ever kiss happened between her and Stu. It was very close to the end of a school year and his parents were away again. She had that strange feeling in her chest that said she's letting him down if she lets him be alone in that house. So she went there and baked some cookies with him to make sure he's happy - even though she's never seen him make the smallest frown.

And then it just happened.

First they joked around, made a mess in the kitchen and were about the start cleaning when he leaned in and kissed her.

Her first reaction was to freeze and just stand there in shock. But later she kissed back and held onto his shoulders, fearing she'll fall.

She didn't.

Her waist just touched the kitchen counter.

Thinking about it still made her stomach feel empty, her throat dry and her cheeks red. It was the softest kiss she's ever shared with anyone. She never imagined Stu to be able to kiss someone softly, but it seemed like she was wrong.

"This- isn't right." she said after the kiss ended and the sudden guilt overtook her. "You are dating Tatum. She's my friend. This isn't-"

"Why can't it be right if it feels good?"

She left his house that afternoon in a hurry, afraid to look back, knowing that if she did she'd go back in a heartbeat.

Kissing Billy Loomis was a whole another dimension. She knew he knew about what happened; she later realized he used that knowledge to weaken her and get what he wants.

He climbed through her window one evening and after she let him in, he started some small talk with her about movies. He didn't ask her about Stu or about the kiss, he just talked about the smallest things possible.

"Are you okay?" he later asked, after she answered with short sentences.

"Yeah."

"You're a horrible liar." he said with a smirk. "I can tell. I've known you far too long."

And that sentence alone made her tell him everything. And after he comforted her and hugged her, he ran his fingers along her cheek and then her hair. She looked up at him with a slight blush.

"Can I kiss you?"

That evening she had her second kiss with Billy Loomis, knowing she's the worst friend in existence.

It was a lot of back and forth from then on, until everything seemed to get back on track... Until the murders started to happen.

And during those days when the attacks happened, when she wasn't comfortable staying home alone they weakened her. During those moments they started to form a weird understanding - they are friends, but with something else... They had some great movie nights, they hugged more than usual. She started to feel happy, living in denial.

And then at that party the reveal happened. The reveal that changed everything. She still remembered the blood, the way Randy was lying on the ground. The house she knew like the back of her hand became something unknown and scary. She remembered how scared Sidney was, she remembered the betrayal she felt when she had to look the boys she loved in the eye.

It was like she was in a movie they were explaining all those times. Almost everything felt familiar yet surprising. The twist was right, the corn syrup was from Carrie, the 'we all go a little mad sometimes' line was known by her... She knew everything yet she was still surprised.

But the way they spoke to her, the way they touched her or hugged her with that wicked grin on their faces was something soft. Something what felt comfortable and good.

And then...

"-final girl." her eyes became teary as she looked at Billy who still kept Sidney at the counter with the knife. She was thankful she didn't have to look at the edge of it. "Every horror movie needs a final girl. Remember when we explained it to you darling?"

She did.

"Well guess what, you got that role in our movie."

And she understood. She understood why they watched all those scary movies with her, why they explained all the production secrects...

But making her partake in it also meant they were sure she'd never snitch them out. And as she watched them she realized she wouldn't.

"Are you okay?" she got back to reality as a hand touched her shoulder.

"Yeah. I am. I just- remembered something." she answered as Sam, the daughter of Billy Loomis stood next to her, looking at the costume as well.

"You knew him, right?"

"Yes." she answered, not daring to tell the whole story behind that knew.

They stood there next to each other as she thought about Stu and Billy again. The blood after they stabbed the other was gushing from the wounds. And as they raised the knife again and again she saw her reflection on the bloody iron. Her reflection what was full of worry, but the fear was completely missing.

"Do you ever think about him?" Sam asked making her consider what she should reply.

"Sometimes, but it's more like a them. You can't have any memories of one of them without the other."

"They went crazy and stabbed you... I guess it really is hard to think about just one of them. Or about anything happy with them."

" 'We all go a little mad sometimes.' " she quoted, but after realizing Sam doesn't know the meaning of the sentence, she continued: "I still have some happy memories, you know. They played their roles quite well."

She touched the right part of her stomach, where the scar was still visible. The wound she got from them wasn't deep. They made sure it wasn't. But it still hurt, no matter how much Stu hugged her.

Looking at the costume behind the glass made her realize how much she misses them. No matter what they've done, what they made her into, she still loved them. They had a special kind of connection. She was their final girl - that part of the plan worked out flawlessly.

Sam opened the cabinet and she examined her expressions with a raised eyebrow.

"We need a weapon. For defense." she explained and took the still bloody knife.

"You aren't like him, you know. At all." she said, looking at the way Sam is holding the weapon as she took the handle of the cabinet and pushed Sam back a little.

She took a deep breath before she slammed the glass door shut, almost being unable to hide a smile at the sound of glass breaking. She looked at her reflection one last time as it broke to millions of tiny pieces.

Sam jumped a little and she could already hear Gale calling out from behind her.

Moments later she was hugged as different people muttered 'it's okay's. They thought it was an accident, it was completely accidental.

It wasn't. She just doesn't like injustice.

Gale was hugging her. She didn't know the truth, nor did Sidney or Kirby. Sometimes she thought maybe Randy has been the only one who suspected something.

She hid her feelings well and she burried the fact that she wanted Billy and Stu to succeed deep in herself.

As she looked at Ethan Landry above Gale's shoulder she noticed the slight headtilt and curious smile he couldn't hide. He turned towards detective Bailey for only a second, but it was enough for her to know the truth.

Their eyes met.

She tried not to smile as she acknowledged that they are now sharing each others secrets. After all: it takes one to know one.

[bridgertonnteas]

Is Luke Newton a good guy or is he as sketchy as all these accounts make him out to be? It’s like we have Nicola’s Luke and then Rory’s Luke… it’s weird.

He is a good guy, so don't listen to these accounts

What is happening is something started on tiktok from people who has been projecting on Nic & they started the rumors that "how he hates nic" blablabla when that wasn't true

then things just kept progressing by these accounts like there is literally a woman who never watched the show in the first place who has been making hate tiktoks on him when she doesn't even know, but decided to hate on him because he is dating typical tiktok dancer over someone like Nic & the craziest part is that woman isn't even a Nic fan either

There are also some accounts who hate him & hate Colin as a character who do like Nic, but they only tolerate him because they thought him & Nic would be dating or secretly dating, but when they realize that he isn't dating Nic, they decide to openly hate on him & saying vile stuff, completely discarding everything Nic has been saying about him all those years before s3 even started filming Like they don't realize that when they say he isn't a good person, then that would mean Nic is a liar & fake person + if he was a bad person then Nic is a bad person too because she is close friend with him

The point is many are projecting on him just as it happened with Colin & polin in the show with people saying Colin is a red flag because he didn't get with Pen sooner or recognized she liked him sooner, & now some people are angry because he isn't dating Nic faking outrage in her behalf over nothing & honestly some of those people make Nic look bad like I have already seen haters make assumptions about her because of how some are acting in her behalf or using her name to hate on him; she is getting called desperate & pathetic when in reality she is unbothered busy filming a movie and hanging with her friends in her free time

L & r0ry had fallouts before more than once from what I know, but he also has loyalty to him because r0ry was before one of few who supported him when he needed and during hard times

[starry-hughes]

field of daisies

quinn hughes x reader, daisy's au

summary: the relationship between quinn and you after you find out you're pregnant

warnings: pregnancy, slow burn, crying, baby, baby shower, birth, hospital, doctors, hints at shitty parents (y/n's parents!), anxiety

au masterlist

Sitting in a doctor’s office on a Thursday morning is not how you expected things to be going for you. The last month of your life had been a jumble of things. You hardly realized something was up with your body until yesterday. The paper clutched in your hand with test results. You had almost laughed in the face of the nurse practitioner when she asked you if you could possibly be pregnant. “No, I don’t think so.” You had told her. But she still asked for a test just in case. 

“There’s options of course if you would like to explore those,” the doctor’s voice finally flooded your ears. “Thank you,” you abruptly said, grabbing your things and leaving the room. You were going to be sick. A baby? You couldn’t handle this. You weren’t even dating anyone, but you had the craziest idea to keep the baby. Leaving the office, you got to your car before the nerves finally bubbled over, throwing up on the pavement next to your car. 

There was only one thought running through your mind: Quinn. 

Quinn Hughes did not sleep around. It was not in his nature. But he had been so stressed with how the season was going he broke his rule. Finding you across the bar that night. The Canucks season had started horribly. That was the beginning of your relationship if you could even call it that. Quinn would call you anytime he was stressed, which was a lot for someone on a team that was losing almost every game in October. It was one night in particular that you could think this happened. Meeting him at the bar, one or two or five drinks, you couldn’t remember. 

Surely the two of you had been sober enough to remember protection, or you remembered birth control or the morning-after pill. If you asked Quinn what happened that night, he would say that he went home with you and by the next morning, he was watching you collect your clothes from the ground of his bedroom. He never did find the condom wrapper. And you were late to work, not having time to stop by the pharmacy for a Plan B. The night had been forgotten until that moment. 

Since then, you hadn’t seen Quinn. He had gotten too focused on his game. You weren’t exactly sure how to frame the news to him. You couldn’t just text him ‘I’m pregnant’. It didn’t feel right. Part of you wanted to never tell him and pray that you didn’t bump into him on the street with your kid in your arms. But that didn’t feel right either. Driving from the doctor’s office straight to his apartment, you didn’t even know if the security guard would let you in. Quinn played professional hockey, they weren’t just going to let some random girl into his apartment. 

Halfway through your argument with the security guard, claiming you knew Quinn, he walked into the lobby. Eyebrows furrowed together, “(Y/N).” You were right, his apartment security guard did not let you pass the lobby, ignoring your argument that you knew Quinn Hughes. Quinn was returning home from practice and saw you there. 

You thought that when you broke the news to Quinn, he would accuse you of lying or force a paternity test. “You sure?” he gulped after what seemed like forever. “Doctor confirmed it an hour ago. Listen, I’m going to keep the baby. If you want to be in my life and theirs, you can, but I’m not expecting money or anything if you don’t want to be. Your name won’t even have to be on the birth certificate,” you rambled. 

“Can I just have a little to think?” he stuttered. You had never felt more alone than in the time Quinn took to think. It was a total of three days before you got a text from him, saying that he wanted to help you raise his kid. “We need to discuss things,” he started after meeting you for coffee. He looked like he hadn’t slept in three days. He also made sure you were not drinking coffee, saying that he learned that you could only have decaf when pregnant. “I was thinking that you should move in with me. I have the space. Two extra rooms, one for you and one for the baby. Financial support and whatever you need. Co-parents.” 

You were hesitant at first, but you soon found yourself breaking your lease and moving in with Quinn Hughes. It was weird. Quinn and you barely knew one another on a personal level, but now you were living together, and there was a baby growing that was the product of the two of you. “Are we telling anyone?” you blurted from the couch before Quinn left for a road trip. “We probably should.” 

Quinn had called his parents that night when he got to his hotel room. It was not a fun phone call. Scolding and questioning that was borderline an interrogation. He had never felt like he had disappointed his parents as much as he did at that moment. Your phone call with your family was worse, basically being disowned. 

You weren’t sure if it was pregnancy hormones or what but you were calling Quinn that night in tears. “My parents just disowned me I think,” you sniffled over the phone. He felt bad, “Do you need me to come home? I can take a personal leave.” You shook your head, “No, I just wanted to hear your voice.” 

“Do you want to come home with me for Christmas?” he blurted. 

So you did. You went to Michigan for the holidays. Meeting Quinn’s family was nerve-wracking. Luckily, his brothers, Jack and Luke, were there to break the tension. “At least he’s the oldest one of us, Mom. It could have been Luke,” Jack grinned. 

Quinn and you had a serious sit-down conversation with his parents. When you were asked about your support system, you simply looked away before Quinn spoke up again, “I’m her support system, Mom.”

-

Whenever Quinn was home from games, you were scheduling doctor’s appointments. He shyly knocked on your bedroom door one afternoon. He was returning from practice, a piece of paper in his hands. “I, uh, I asked some of the guys on the team for doctor suggestions. The wives gave me a bunch of different names of midwives and doulas. My mom also sent over some tea for the morning sickness,” Quinn stuttered. The two of you stayed in your room for hours, laughing as you two finally got to know one another. A sense of comfort fell over you. 

The first doctor’s appointment Quinn got to attend was something you’d never forget. He had missed the first appointment where you got to hear the heartbeat. Quinn swore he would never hear such a beautiful sound as he did that day, hearing the heartbeat for the first time. The ultrasound technician looked at Quinn and you, a small chuckle leaving her lips as Quinn tried to hide his tears. “Are you two wanting to know if it’s a baby girl or boy?” 

The extra room in Quinn’s apartment used to be his area to work out at home. Now it is painted a soft yellow color. Elias and Brock had come over to help paint as Quinn and you put together the crib. Your baby bump was growing each day, and Quinn was struggling not to kiss you every time he saw you. “Do you want her letters up on this wall or the other?” Brock asked, holding up the wooden letters that spelled out the name you had picked out. “Above the changing table,” you stated. “You heard the woman,” Quinn smiled at you. “I don’t know which one the changing table is,” Elias mumbled. 

-

The wives of the players on the Canucks were begging to throw you a baby shower. You were fine with the idea until it actually started. People were in the apartment everywhere, and you felt trapped. It had been decided that the guys would be able to attend the baby shower. “Bathroom break,” you smiled sweetly at Natalie Miller, handing her your cup of water. Quinn had been talking to Podz and Andrei when he saw you walking off. 

The nursery was silent when you stepped in. A soft knock came on the door, and Quinn entered. “You okay?” he asked. “I’m overwhelmed,” you admitted on the verge of tears. “I can tell everyone to go,” Quinn frowned, “I don’t want you and Daisy upset.” Daisy. That was the name the two of you had picked out. “I just needed a breather.” 

Quinn stayed with you until you were ready to rejoin the party. “Quinn, can you maybe just hold my hand for the rest of the party?” you asked, barely above a whisper. He nodded, holding his hand out for you to take. Your hands stayed intertwined for the rest of the party. 

-

By month six of your pregnancy, there was no longer awkwardness between Quinn and you. It was late April, and the Canucks were done for the season. Usually, Quinn would return home to Michigan for the summer, but with you pregnant, it was decided for him to stay with you in Vancouver. Quinn had learned a lot about you since you moved in. He had seen you at your worse, puking over the toilet or crying because you had to buy new clothes. You had learned about his family and his quirks. 

The two of you were sitting on the couch, talking about the baby and the upcoming months. “Quinn!” you shouted in the middle of his sentence, sitting up. He panicked, sitting up and asking what was wrong. “She kicked! I swore I felt it!” you said excitedly. Quinn waited for a soft nod from you before he reached out his hand to place it on your baby bump. Once his hand relaxed against your bump, he waited for a minute or two. The smallest movement happened, making both of you smile and laugh. “That’s our baby,” Quinn mumbled. 

The romantic relationship between the two of you had only grown over your pregnancy. It was confusing for both of you. Almost kissing in the kitchen but sleeping in separate rooms. Quinn was asleep when you padded into his room. “Quinn? Can I sleep with you? My body pillow isn’t helping tonight,” you whined out tiredly. Quinn nodded, moving over in his bed. You climbed in, immediately clinging to him. He didn’t realize that you were basically going to use him as a body pillow, your arms circling his neck as you finally found comfort. He wasn’t comfortable at all, but he was just happy that you were asleep. 

A couple of weeks later, you were getting to the point where you couldn’t put your shoes on by yourself. You walked across the living room to Quinn, who was playing video games on the couch. “Your daughter is making me pee every ten minutes.” A smile broke out on his face, “Oh? Now she’s just my daughter?” 

You groaned at his comment, walking off to the kitchen for a snack. “It takes two to make a baby sweetheart!” He called after you. 

-

Quinn brushed his hand through the hair sticking to your forehead. You had been in bed with Quinn again, using the excuse of needing comfort, when your water broke. “Sweetheart,” Quinn cooed softly. Quinn had gotten you to move to the couch before you plopped onto the couch in tears. “We have to get to the hospital soon,” he said. The baby bag was already in his hands. 

“I’m scared Quinn.” 

Your voice wobbled as you looked at Quinn through tears. “I know,” he kneeled in front of you, “I’m terrified too. But I promise I won’t let anything happen to either of you. You’re going to be an amazing mother. You did all those parenting classes and read all the books. Daisy is going to be so loved.” 

You nodded along with his words, and Quinn was able to get you to the car. “Did you remember my slippers?” You mumbled as he drove. “Yes, they’re in the bag, along with all the bottles, outfits, rags, blankets, pacifiers, and gloves. Everything is there.” 

It was a tiring couple of hours, but it was all worth it as your daughter was placed on your chest, wailing out. Quinn was wiping away the tear on your cheek as he cried too. “She’s beautiful,” you cried out to Quinn. “She is.” He placed a soft kiss on your forehead. “I love you, Quinn.” 

He didn’t know if it was the medication or the adrenaline that made you say that, but he didn’t care. “I love you too.” 

A couple of days later, the two of you were returning home, a newborn baby girl in your arms. “Welcome home, Daisy,” Quinn whispered as the two of you sat on the couch, “you’re so loved.”

[2030kamenriders]

Darn, I had the craziest and most vivid Toku dream last night.

So it all started with this crossover movie. Judging by the focus characters, it was some sort of Gokaiger special, but also Decade and the Kamen Riders were there. So I figured it was just one of those pre-existing Gokaiger-Decade specials

Except at one point I guess I got warped into the movie instead of just watching it. And that's where it got weird.

So (checks internet to make sure I get the name right) Patrick Stewart shows up in a Star Trek outfit, and asks me if I know who he is. (I am bad at Star Trek lore, and the only name that came to mind was Spock, but I knew he wasn't Spock because that's the guy with the pointy eyebrows. I explained this to him, and turns out he didn't mind. Anywho he's Captain Picard.)

The scene then switched to some civilians. Turns out the bad guys of the movie (we're gonna say Shocker but frankly I don't remember seeing any of their henchmen. Could've been Zangyack or Foundation X or something) were doing some changes to time/dimensions to either turn people evil or to simply have them forget who they are. Very convoluted stuff that didn't make sense.

Scene change to the Gokaigers (and I guess I was looking from their perspective?) seeing the effects on the Toei heros.

The Shinkengers were all there except for Takeru, and they were in shambles. At least one of them was trying to cope by becoming a punk rocker or something. In my head I was thinking "oh they couldn't get the actor back for this movie". But in the movie it was heavily implied that Takeru Shiba died, due to the whole bad guy plot just generally making life tougher for the Super Sentai teams.

There's then this cut to a quick heavily-CG scene of a big fight between some of the Sentai mechas and the bad guys, and the mechas are severely outnumbered. Like, the bad guys were covering the entire area the way the OOO Gatakitiba form does, but they were mech-sized.

Now here's the weird part: 2 of the mechs looked distinctly like the Kingohger and the Patoranger mechs. How are they here?! (In-universe the idea was that the bad guys were also attacking future teams that didn't exist yet, and as a viewer I was thinking "Wow, Toei planned these teams in advance?" This was before I realized this was a fake movie in my head.)

Cut back to the Gokaigers and Shinkengers. A bunch of evil henchmen show up, but then Accel and W show up too. However, Accel and W are just standing there, and I'm not sure what they were up to, but I guess the idea was that they forgot about how to be Kamen Riders (despite being in the suits. I mean like, they forgot the idea of it in their souls or something)

So Akiko is there trying to get them to remember. But then there's this other civilian trying to help Akiko, who had the vibes of being from slightly in the future? And her hair was blonde but with blue streaks in a couple of ponytails, and she had a cool jacket and giant running shoes. And she never said her name, but at one point she referred to herself as Akiko and Terui's kid, so I was thinking "Haruna?!" But they gave her really fake-looking blue contact lenses (event though she wasn't acting possessed by Urataros) so at the same time I was like "oh darn it they whitewashed her. How the heck did that happen?"

And then the scene switched back to Picard trying to negotiate with the bad guys to stop them. Unfortunately he was not succeeding.

Anyway back to the toku heroes: then Decade showed up. But I woke up before he could do anything.

In conclusion:

[sokkastyles]

Just saw the craziest take. Zuko's redemption arc will be incomplete til he helps his sister heal and he let's go of the sibling rivalry Ozai created. What? Am I missing something? He needs to help his abuser heal?

It's not just the idea that he needs to help his abuser heal that is bad. This idea fails on its very premise. Not to mention that Zuko learning that he did not have to play nice with abusive people or listen to them was a big part of his redemption arc. Which includes Azula because there was that whole thing where he almost joined the gaang in Ba Sing Se until Azula convinced him to join with her, and the climax of his arc was rejecting and atoning for that choice and then defeating Azula in battle in combination with Katara, in a perfect reversal of his choosing Azula over Katara at the end of book 2. Saying NO to Azula was a large part of Zuko's redemption arc.

But the main reason why this take is wrong is that Zuko ALREADY let go of the "sibling rivalry." Which wasn't a sibling rivalry to begin with, because Zuko was never a rival to Azula, he was her Ozai-approved punching bag. Him standing up to her and defeating her was rejecting what Ozai created, which was not a sibling rivalry but a golden child/scapegoat dynamic where Zuko was the scapegoat. Zuko refusing to BE the scapegoat any longer IS letting it go.

Zuko let it go when he told Ozai that Azula lied to him about the Avatar's death. He let it go when he told Ozai that he didn't care about his approval anymore, and therefore has no reason to seek it either from Azula or by fighting her. He doesn't fear being Ozai's scapegoat anymore and he's not cowed by Azula's threats. He chooses to walk away.

And like, I know I keep saying this but I can't stress it enough. What Zuko does in walking away is the thing that abusers fear the most. Believing that you are responsible for "healing" an abusive person is what a lot of abusive people want, because it's another way for them to control the relationship and the narrative. Walking away from an abusive relationship is always a valid choice, and sometimes it's a necessary choice. And sometimes that's what letting go looks like.

And that's sad, but it was never Zuko who couldn't let it go. It's also not Zuko who continues to hold on to it, who challenges his sibling to an agni kai and says it was "always meant to be" even after the other person has chosen to walk away. Zuko left, remember? Azula was the one who came after him in "The Southern Raiders" with the intent to kill him because she couldn't let him walk away and live. Azula is the one who won't back down from a fight and says it was "the showdown that was always meant to be." Zuko came back to face her because he wanted to save the world. Azula is the one who holds onto a personal grudge. Azula is the one who cheats when she realizes she can't win. Azula is the one who almost kills her brother and laughs while he is dying. (Do NOT talk to me about Zuko's expression while she is tied to a grate when Azula had THAT expression after she had struck her brother with lightning.)

Azula is the one who, in the comics, continues to hold onto her hatred, continues to justify Ozai's abusiveness, and rejects Zuko's attempts to reach out to her every single time. Azula is the one who used Zuko's offer of dignity to weasel herself into a position where she could keep their mother's letter from him and force Zuko to take her along and put them all in danger. If anything, I'd say that Zuko's mistake in that comic was believing that she would be helpful to him in the first place and that she wouldn't try to take advantage of him. But the fact that he does continue to try to be kind to her shows how much he has risen above what his family tried to do to him. But he also has every right to be angry at her and distance himself from her completely. Just because he's still hurting doesn't mean he hasn't healed. And Zuko's abusers aren't the ones who get to be the measure of whether he has healed. Especially when they keep trying to hurt him.

I find it interesting that Azula is the one who keeps holding onto the idea that she is Ozai's golden child, and yet I've never, ever, ever seen it suggested that Azula should let it go, even when Zuko has risen above it and Ozai has rejected her. Even while Azula's reluctance to let go of this destructive mindset continues to hurt her as well as those around her. That's what Azula's mother tried to tell her in the mirror at the end of ATLA, that's what Zuko tried to tell her at the end of the "Search," and why she wept when he did. It's also why Ursa offered Azula an apology even when she didn't remember her, because she could see that Azula was holding onto this thing so tenaciously. Azula's mind has been telling her this whole time that she needs to let it go, but she can't. And that's a tragedy, but it's not one that Zuko is responsible for or had any hand in making.

[kanerallels]

chenford fic as well. fairytale au.

I swear your other prompt is on the way I just hated what I wrote for it and had to start fresh. Stand by and enjoy this little story that was inspired by a concept @singswan-springswan brought up like a year ago and it never really left my head:

“You sacrificed yourself.” The beast’s voice is surprisingly human, and Lucy wondered what he looked like without shadows shrouding his features. “Why?”

“Nolan’s my friend,” Lucy told him, breathing deeply. Trying to ease her pounding heart. “And he has a son, and the woman he’s courting— she’s lost enough already.”

“So you volunteered to face the monster for him.”

“Well, I’m part of the guard, too.” Lucy took another deep breath, memories flickering through her head— hot sun, sand underfoot. The last moment before the barrel was latched shut and she was completely, totally trapped. “Besides, I’ve faced monsters before. You’re actually kind of tame in comparison.”

“Is that so?” Either Lucy was crazy, or the beast actually sounded… amused? What did I get myself into?

~~~

It was her. Even if he hadn’t had the memory of her dark wavy hair imprinted in his brain, he recognized her scent. The flowery perfume with a hint of vanilla, the same sword oil that he’d used when he was part of the guard a long, long time ago. And fear, but not as strong as when he’d found her in that barrel.

That had been the craziest thing he’d ever done. He’d known the consequences if he’d been caught by the villagers and the guardsmen hunting for her. But she’d been right there. He’d seen the ring she left behind as a sign, and smelled both her scent and the scent of her kidnapper.

He couldn’t just stand by and do nothing. Not even when he was under a curse.

So he’d dug, bloodying and breaking his claws, and he’d pulled her out. Brought her back, stayed with her, and when he finally heard people approaching, ran for it.

It was only afterwards that he realized he still had the ring— moonstone in a silver band. He wondered if he should give it back to her.

Right now, he had bigger issues. “You’re a member of the guard,” he said, studying her intently. “Does that mean you’re here to kill me? I know there are plenty who’d like to, if they believed I existed.”

“No,” she said, and he believed her. “I’m here to pay Nolan’s debt, not fight. As long as you aren’t planning to eat me.”

She was brave— cocky, almost, saying that without a quiver in her voice. He almost grinned. “I don’t eat humans.”

“Then I won’t try to kill you.”

“Good enough.”

[discoverywriter]

20 Questions For Writers

Didn’t actually get tagged on this, but it looked like a fun one. 🤣

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

AO3 says I have 24. Huh.

2. What is your total AO3 word count?

288,626 since I started in 2021, which seemed like a lot to me until I realized 179,551 of those belong to the second thing I ever wrote, a massive 4 part series covering from Rio’s resurrection to their inevitable HEA.

3. What fandoms do you write for?

Veronica Mars brought me to AO3. The Punisher (Kastle) made me think for the first time about writing prompts, but it was the Good Girls (Brio) fandom that finally got me to put the proverbial pen to paper.

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

1. Even If It Hurts (Part 3 of Walk Through The Fire series)

2. Sanctuary (Part 2 of Walk Through The Fire series)

3. Get Your House In Order (Part 1 of Walk Through The Fire series)

4. By My Side (Part 4 of Walk Through The Fire series)

5. What Would Elizabeth Do?

5. Do you respond to comments?

Yes! I try to, at least. Sorry if I’ve missed any, sometimes I lose track of the notification emails.

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

Ooh, definitely Enemy of My Enemy. Hardest fic for me to finish. Not fluffy. No HEA. Rio is aaaaaangry.

7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

Hmm… there’s a lot to choose from cause I looooove a soft, fluffy Brio. If you can slog through the 4 part series, it covers the most ground, ending years after the show. It’s loosely based on canon to start, but veers off.

8. Do you get hate on your fics?

Hmm… Not really. Luckily just one I can think of. A vague accusation that all my ideas were suspiciously like a lot of other ones on AO3… except those other writers did it way better. 🤷🏻‍♀️ I blocked them and figured if anything, it meant I’d finally “made it”. 😂

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

I try to. I aim for the kind I think people will enjoy reading, but I often alternate between worrying it’s either a little too cheesy, or over the top.

10. Do you write crossovers? What’s the craziest one you’ve written?

I don’t, but I would never say never. There are some I would *love* for other people to write, though. Karen Page (Punisher) and Steve Rogers (Captain America)… Intrepid reporter interviews national hero after the Battle of New York. Neither are looking for anything, but sparks fly. Anyone? Anyone??? 🤣

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

I don’t think so?

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

No, but wouldn’t it be awesome if AO3 had a button that would do that automatically?

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

Again, no. I won’t say it would never happen, but I’m a bit of a lone wolf writer. Strict deadlines, etc are tough for me, so I think I’d find a co-writing situation very stressful.

14. What’s your all time favourite ship?

It has to be Brio. 🥰

15. What’s a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

This is a tough one. I don’t tend to release fics until they’re finished, so I don’t have any orphaned stories out there crying out for a happy ending. I do have a dozen or so ideas that are in various stages of completion. Some are almost done(ish), so I suspect the ones that are less likely to get finished are the ones that are literally a sentence fragment… barely a complete idea. I mean, they’re great random scattered thoughts, but… Yeah.

16. What are your writing strengths?

I’ve been told my Brio characterizations are good.

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

Hmmm… Dialogue and smut. My descriptions aren’t bad, but my writing style isn’t as “flowy” as I’d sometimes like.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?

I’m not bilingual, so if I include another language in a fic I tend to keep it fairly short and straightforward to lessen the chance of getting it wrong.

19. First fandom you wrote for?

Good Girls. First and only.

20. Favourite fic you’ve written?

I don’t mind rereading (most of) my own stuff. I have a special soft spot for ones where Brio interacts with the kids, like Smarter Than Your Average Gang Friend (Rio gets shown up by the Jane), and In Sickness (Jane’s sick and Rio shows Beth an uncharacteristic kindness).

Not tagging anyone in particular. Please, jump in!

[indomitableblackdragon]

I can't figure out this spacing thing and I'm not about to find out. So hey! I'm Allul (They/Them, trying to figure that thing out)! I'm that fucking creature that's flooding your dash with posts about a boat girl and whatever other shenanigans my mind decides to get up to. I'd say I should apologize but really the longer you know me the more you realize this is just how I live my life

I'm 26 (Not for long) and a terrible chronic gacha addict that probably should've stopped a long time ago. But since i haven't I now have adopted boats (as this blog shows) along with....

androids

horse girls

very bisexual prisoners

food personifications

goblins

cinnamon rolls

and plenty of other random things that go in and out of my mind on the daily. This may come at a surprise to plenty of people but I literally haven't even been here a year yet (shocking I know). Most of my writing career has been either super bad fanfics, skype rp (yes this sadly was part of my life), and forums of recently. Only after being dragged here by a few friends did I realize what I was missing out on and I'm glad I joined! I promise you I'm not intimidating as I may seem (If I even come off as intimidating) and really I'm a DM away from blowing your eardrums off about whatever you want. Like lets be real my first blog here was a goddamn pokemon. I think that says everything you need to know.

Anyway next is checks notes about myself and that's problematic. Because I have no idea how to do that :3. According to my friends this meme explains it best

But as expected writing is my hobby (go figure) and beyond that is probably video games. A lot and a ALOT of RPGS, Fighting Games, and whatever is out there to get my serotonin running. Currently I'm down in the mines playing Granblue Fantasy Relink, Granblue Fantasy Versus Rising (are you noticing the trend), and dabbling in some other ventures (Gundam Versus if you want to know how niche my tastes get. I also collect plushes!

in line with my crippling Granblue addiction music CD's!

But yeah if it wasn't obvious I love talking about literally anything. My interests are kinda all over the place but most people can vouch that I'm a damn good listener. And that includes plotting even if my mentality usually is just a "fuck it we ball one" rather than really planning it out (I do love planning too! But sometimes you really just gotta go off and never stop). If you don't find me here on NJ's Blog well don't worry I have like 11 more as well. Featuring...

Morgan le Fay (Fate) (@talesofrainandstars_

Melusine (Also from Fate) (@robustdragonheart)

Nian (Arknights) (@unfetteredfreedom)

Mika ("Archive that may be Blue") (@witchoftrinity)

Architect (Girls' Frontline) (@explosivedesire)

Fenie (Granblue Fantasy) (@sourceoftheflame)

Miyoi Okunoda (Touhou) (@geidonteispostergirl)

"Sparkle" (Honkai Stars Rails) @sparklingsplendor

Hiroi Kikuri (Bocchi the Rock) (@sickhackbassist)

My OC Protag from Armored Core 6 "Raven" (@echoesofcoral)

Beyond that I'm always in Discord if you just want to chat or anything else. You can also find me on twitter where I rant about the most craziest things and cry when my favorites in gachas actually get content (it doesn't happen often). Other then that I have no idea how to end this so here's a picture of my dog

anyway I think I've ranted long enough. Looking forward to talking with everyone more and anyone else who is willing to put up with my muses!"

[pepperonijem]

vi. silly things & sensible people || all my love

"Silly things do cease to be silly if they are done by sensible people in an impudent way." - Emma; Jane Austen

Summary: sometimes all anyone needs is a gentle nudge in the right direction Pairing: high school!bucky x f!reader Warnings: food mentions Word Count: 3.1k A/N: we all need a friend like wanda <3 || sorry for the delay! I had a job interview this week that I spent all weekend prepping for... i passed! (i'm moving to korea this summer lol)

previous chapter || back to library || next chapter

Wanda opened her notes app and started a new note, titling it with the date and began her weekly letter to her pen pal, wanting to update them on her life... or mostly her best friend's life.

You will NEVER guess what’s been happening this semester. Did you guess? Well whatever you guessed is probably wrong… unless you guessed that my best friend just confessed to her crush without TELLING me about it first. 

It was absolutely insane, I was getting out of class and on my way to find her and Steve for lunch when I saw a HUGE crowd by Steve’s class and right at the center of it all was Bucky Barnes and the only girl crazy enough to give him a handwritten note in the middle of passing period. I only saw the end of it, but it was… brutal. I’ve known Bucky long enough to know he isn’t the friendliest person out there but even for him… it made me so upset. He didn’t even take her card, can you believe it? 

Honestly, this whole time I didn’t realize she actually liked him enough to confess to him. I always thought it was a passing crush, but I guess I was wrong. She was pretty badass for that. But obviously Steve didn’t think so. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him look so dejected. I wonder if he’ll ever work himself up to do the same thing.

OH. But the craziest part is that a week after she confessed to him, she ended up moving into his house. Turns out her dad and Bucky’s dad were college besties. Isn’t that insane? It’s just like this anime Natasha made me watch with her once. We were in tears the whole time but uh, that’s a story for another day. Or a story for never. She swore me to secrecy after that night.

We actually didn’t realize that she had moved in with him until after the big exam we took when Bucky stormed in and she handed him a picture of the two of them asleep together at the dining table. 

Then that night, she ended up spraining her ankle and Bucky had to take her home so he didn’t get to go to IHOP with us. Sad for him, that was a fun night. Not for Steve… again. By the end of the night he was crying to Sam’s rendition of an ABBA song and chugging down strawberry milkshakes. He’s lactose intolerant and he slept over at my house that night. So… not much fun for me either. I–

“Wanda, get off your damn phone and help us move the couch.” Wanda looked up from her notes app to see Natasha, Tony and Scott waiting for her to grab onto the fourth corner of the loveseat.

“Sorry, sorry,” Wanda apologized before rushing to help them move the couch to the opposite end of the room. “Why are we doing this again?”

Natasha let out a grunt as they dropped the couch ungracefully onto the floor. “Scott thought it would be cool to have a pillow fort.”

“We’re doing this for a pillow fort?” Tony asked in shock. “I thought Scott’s mom just wanted us to redecorate.”

“Tony, why would his mom want both of the couches facing the walls on opposite ends of the room?” Natasha asked with a roll of her eyes. Tony shrugged his shoulders and plopped himself down on the couch. 

Natasha dropped down beside him with a sigh. “When is everyone else gonna get here?” she asked.

“Well Steve had to pick up Sam, but he should be here soon.” Wanda looked down at her watch at the time to compare it against the ETA Steve had sent earlier.

Tony checked his phone as he leaned over the back of one couch. “Rhodey just texted. He just parked outside.”

“What about Bucky?” Scott asked. 

Natasha shrugged as the doorbell rang and Wanda went to answer it, letting Rhodey in. “Sorry, I had to pick up the kid,” Peter walked into the kitchen with a proud grin as Rhodey rolled his eyes.

“Yeah but we brought food,” Peter exclaimed as he placed a brown paper bag on the kitchen counter. 

“You brought your Chipotle,” Rhodey clarified as he walked to the fridge to grab himself a bottle of water. 

Scott laughed and shook his head as he took the bag and handed it to Rhodey to stick in the fridge. “Did you guys happen to get Bucky too?” 

Rhodey shook his head in response. “I offered him a ride, but he said he had plans.”

“Plans?” Scott echoed. “We are his plans. He’s never missed a board game night.” Wanda could hear the pout in his voice. 

“He didn’t give me any details but I think it has to do with his roomie.” Rhodey commented, checking through his text messages to see if he left any details out. “He said he’ll be busy all day.”

“His roomie, huh?” Tony repeated with a raised eyebrow. “Have you guys noticed he’s been weird lately?”

“Yeah,” Natasha replied. “Last week I asked him if he liked her–”

Before Natasha could continue, Tony walked toward the group gathered by the island, eager to join the gossip. “Yes!” He exclaimed. “Bucky always sends these weird memes that no one gets exam days, but last week, we had a literature exam and guess what?”

“What?” Rhodey asked flatly. Natasha nudged him in response, reminding him to be polite.

“He didn’t send anything,” Tony noted. “When I asked him what happened, he told me he was up the night before studying… but Bucky never studies for literature exams because he’s a nerd who already read the books.”

Before anyone could say anything else, the doorbell rang and in came Steve and Sam. “Hey,” Sam greeted. “What did we miss? We bought drinks.”

Wanda looked over at Natasha as Steve walked in, silently begging her not to finish her sentence from earlier around Steve. Natasha gave her a subtle nod as she attempted to shift the attention to the newcomers.

“Where’s the rest?” Natasha asked as Sam set down his drink on the counter while Steve found a spot beside Wanda.

“Oh,” Sam replied. “I meant we stopped over to buy ourselves drinks from Starbucks. That’s why we’re late.”

“Remind me to start being more specific when I tell  you guys to bring things,” Scott replied with a chuckle, shaking his head. “Anyway, what else were you saying, Tony?”

Tony thought for a second, remembering his train of thought. “Right, so I did some more investigating,” he continued. “And when we were getting into groups for our Shakespeare analysis – I swear I’ve never seen him move this fast, not even at a football game – I saw him join his roomie’s group. He even smiled when she waved at him. I’ve never seen him smile at anyone.” 

“He’s not exaggerating,” Natasha confirmed with an eager nod of her head. “I didn’t even realize they were friends, but it seems like lately they’ve been besties or something. Isn’t she supposed to be your best friend, Steve?”

Steve put his hands up in defense before speaking, his voice just a little too loud and too high to sound calm and collected. “She can do whatever she wants,” he said. 

Although the other boys couldn’t tell, Wanda knew Steve didn’t fully believe the spite in his own words. So coming to her friend’s defense, she joined in. “Yeah, but isn’t Bucky yours?” She asked Natasha, turning the question back to her.

“Chill out,” Natasha shrugged her shoulders. “I was just curious to see if you guys knew anything else.”

“We don’t,” Steve said flatly. “Are we going to play or what?” Natasha and Wanda shared a look, realizing that Steve was feeling a lot more than he was willing to let on, so they accepted his change of subject. The others rushed into the living room as Wanda and Steve stayed behind.

Wanda watched as Steve leaned against the counter, pushing his forehead into his palms as he let out a sigh. Wanda stood beside him facing the opposite way, her elbows leaning against the countertop. Her heart felt heavy at the sight of her distraught best friend.

“Steve,” Wanda began gently but firmly. Steve shook his head, already knowing where this conversation was headed. “Salad. Now.”

Steve let out another sigh, running a hand through his golden hair, and Wanda wasn’t sure if he would answer her, but after a beat, he finally lifted his head. “Lettuce… I’m sad. Chicken… I’m mad. Mostly at myself,” he confessed.

“Why?” Wanda asked quietly.

“For never being brave enough to say anything,” He admitted to Wanda, hanging his head. “It’s just… we have something so good and I didn’t want to lose that. But sometimes…” he trailed off.

“Sometimes what?” Wanda pushed.

“It’s just,” Steve sighed. “Do you remember that time in the eighth grade when the three of us got in that huge fight?”

Wanda let out a dry laugh. “The one where you thought the two of us were dating behind your back because we went to a movie together?”

Steve grew a small but sad smile. “Not just any movie,” he clarified. “You watched The Hunger Games without me. It was my favorite book.”

Wanda nudged him playfully. “Steve, you had the flu,” she reminded him. “We wanted to take you but your mom said if she found out you snuck out and we got the flu from you she would stop making us that sponge cake we like. That would’ve been the end of our 14-year old lives.”

Steve let out a chuckle as he nodded at the memory. “I know,” he continued. “But for a week after that, I felt so left out. Like suddenly you were her best friend and she was yours, and I was the odd one out.”

“Is that why you ghosted us for a whole month?” Wanda asked, eyes wide with surprise as Steve nodded in shame. 

“It was dumb, I know,” he cringed at the memories of that time. “But I think I was jealous. Of you.” 

Wanda snorted a laugh at his comment. “Of me? Oh buddy,” she laughed as she pat Steve on the shoulder.

“I know, I know,” Steve ran his hand through his hair again. “But anyway, I think that’s kind of how I feel right now. Like she’s everything to me… but I’m not to her. And it’s not like she owes me anything… I think I just keep thinking, what could I have done differently?”

Wanda thought through her next words carefully, letting silence rest between the two of them. Well, silence was relative. The others were in the next room arguing about whether or not it was fair to let Peter choose to be Colonel Mustard when he doesn’t know how to play Clue.

 “I can’t say I know what you’re feeling,” Wanda began. “But for me, I think that when I start focusing on things like that, my mind gets stormy. I stop seeing things clearly, and I start doubting myself and the way I fit into my friendships. But then you two always remind me that’s not real. What is real is that I would give everything for the two of you, and if I needed it, both of you would do the same for me. It’s one of the most stable truths of the universe. 

At the same time, I also know that both of you would want me to be happy, and to choose what makes me happy. The same thing I would do for you. And I will always help you to figure out what that is when you can’t see it, like you do for me. When I remember that, the skies clear a little, and I see the sunshine again. I see you guys.”

Wanda turned to Steve, who wiped at a tear forming in the corner of his eye. She gave him a gentle pat on the back and turned to leave him to his own thoughts for a bit. 

Honestly, she was a bit surprised at her own wisdom. She wasn’t usually the friend people came to for advice, but maybe they should start, she thought. She hoped her words got through to Steve, as seeing her best friend hurting was weighing heavily on her as well. She was, however, very excited to tell her pen pal about this situation.

After she made her way into the living room, Natasha moved to sit beside her on the couch, now turned to face the television. “Is he okay?” she asked, nodding towards the kitchen where Steve still stood by himself.

“Yeah, he’s just raiding the leftovers,” Wanda joked. She was lying, but she felt that Steve wouldn’t want to explain to everyone else what had him so emotional.

Natasha nodded, not fully believing her words, but accepting them nonetheless. “Do you wanna play the next round?” She asked instead. 

“Nah,” Wanda pulled out her phone. “I have to work on my letter.”

“Oh to your pen pal right?” Natasha asked. “I can’t believe you’ve been writing to each other since middle school. Why don’t you just ask for his number?” She attempted to look over Wanda’s hands to see what she was writing down.

“Yeah, ask for his number and invite her to the winter formal,” Sam chimed in. “Unless he’s catfishing you.” The group laughed and Wanda laughed along.

“Yeah, yeah,” she rolled her eyes and continued typing in her note from earlier, updating her letter with the most recent events. However she didn’t get very far before she got a call from Bucky. “Bucky’s calling me?” She asked aloud in surprise.

“Answer him!” They all called in unison, as they looked away from the game to flock towards Wanda, even Steve, who walked in from the kitchen. Wanda looked over to him and he responded with a small smile and a nod, encouraging her to answer the phone.

“Wanda,” Bucky’s voice filled the room from Wanda’s phone speaker. “I need your help.” The group gathered around Wanda all looked at her with wide eyes as they tried to contain their curiosity. However it was Scott who couldn’t hide his gasp, even as Sam slapped his hand over his mouth.

“Hey guys,” Bucky sighed. “Sorry I couldn’t make it but I really need to borrow Wanda for a second.” 

Wanda chuckled as she watched the group disperse with disappointed looks and resume playing their game. She walked back over to the kitchen, and Steve headed for the living room to give her privacy. 

“What’s up Buck?” Wanda asked when she was finally alone.

“Uh,” Bucky sounded like he was thinking about what to say. “How do you feel about a road trip?” 

Wanda couldn’t hide her surprise at the question. “Road trip?” She repeated.

“I can give you the details later,” Bucky said. “But just tell me you’ll come with me.”

“When?” Wanda questioned. “And why me?” 

“Tonight. Right now even,” He sounded panicked and Wanda was beginning to feel the same. “I called you because Natasha already said no.” As if on cue, Natasha had popped her head into the kitchen and Wanda waved her over. 

“Nat,” Wanda began. “Why the hell is Bucky asking me to go on a road trip with him right now?”

Natasha let out a chuckle. “Just hear the poor boy out,” she suggested as Wanda looked at her suspiciously.

“I need to pick up your friend’s dad,” Bucky explained. “Long story short, she was upset he couldn’t make it to the awards, so I reached out to him and basically now he agreed to be here for one night, and his flight is landing soon and the airport is over an hour away and I don’t want to drive alone, but I can’t bring her with me because it’s a surprise and –”

“Woah,” Wanda stopped his rambling with a chuckle. “Long story long, more like.” She looked back at Natasha who raised her eyebrow as if to say See now? Wanda nodded back to her as she let out a hum of thought before an idea popped in her head.

“I’ll come,” Wanda said with a mischievous smile that was hidden by her gentle voice. Bucky let out a sigh of relief, and Wanda could hear his shoulders relax. “But you have to come pick me up from Scott’s house, since I left my car at home.”

“Sure, yeah,” Bucky agreed desperately to her condition. “Thank you so much.”

Twenty minutes later, when the doorbell rang, Wanda almost felt guilty for what she was about to do. But when she thought about it some more, she reminded himself of what she told Bucky just earlier, and her conscience clears just in time for her to open the door to see a panicked Bucky, dressed in sweatpants, a hoodie, and mismatched socks.

Someone will thank me later, she thinks to herself as she pretends to double over in pain. “Wanda?” Bucky asked in concern. “Are you okay?”

“I ate someone’s leftovers,” she pretended to let out a grunt of pain. “And it’s really not agreeing with me,” she cursed under her breath. “I’m so sorry, but I don’t think I can come with you.” She apologized.

“No, no,” Bucky dismissed her. “It’s fine, don’t worry about it.” He walked in and shut the door, leading Wanda to sit down at the dining table as Natasha walked over with a medicine tablet and a glass of water. 

“Here,” she handed them to Wanda. “Don’t worry Bucky, we’ll find someone to fill in.” Before Bucky could protest, Natasha had walked to the living room and came back with a confused and annoyed looking Steve.

“Steve said he’d be glad to go with you,” Natasha beamed. He very much did not look like he was glad to go with Bucky.

“Uh…” Steve began before Natasha nudged him from behind. “Yep, yeah, I’d be happy to… sit in a car with you for an hour and a half… to pick up my best friend’s dad…”

Bucky opened his mouth to argue, but after looking down to see the time, his eyes widened in worry. “Okay, perfect,” he said instead. “Let’s go before we’re late. Bye you guys, tell the guys I said hey.” and he grabbed Steve’s wrist and headed out the door.

Wanda and Natasha followed behind them, Wanda now forgetting about her act and leaning against the post on the front steps.

“Do you think they’ll hate us?” Wanda asked Natasha as they watched the two boys get into Bucky’s car from the front porch.

“Oh absolutely. For a month at least.”

[elliespuns]

I was wondering, would you mind introducing yourself a bit? Your age, hobbies (except for blogging of coure), music taste, your favorite movies, etc? I love the content you post and i love you and I don't even know you. I wanna know my favorite blogger.. lol. Only if you're okay with it

First of all, thank you for such a lovely compliment. I love you too and I don't even see your blog, mate!

To answer you; I was answering something similar once. This anon sent me questions and I filled them in, so if you allow me to just copy and paste those so I wouldn't have to type it all again (nothing has changed since then, honestly) then I'll be happy to oblige.

How old are you? I'm 30

Tall or short? Very short, I'm only 5'1 ft, 1,56 m

Sexuality? Eh, I don't like labeling myself but if I HAD TO, it'd say bisexual/demisexual.

Describe yourself briefly I'm an introverted dork that doesn't vibe with most people. I dig music, art, and I love a lot. I either love too much or not at all. I've been vegan for over 10 years now and I love funny people. Other than that, I'm just a very poetic soul that also loves to play video games from time to time and I write. I write a lot.

Something you like about yourself? I'd say it's my knowledge in English. I've been self 'learning' it for 9 years now (never been abroad) and I was able to learn the language to the point where it became a huge part of my life. Like I literally use it more than my mother language. That's a thing I'd say I like about myself.

Favorite hobbies outside your blog? I write; creative writing, poetry. Both fulfil my mind. Then I love reading (ofc). I also draw, play video games, work with graphic programs and I love taking pictures.

Something no one would guess about you I have a very high sex drive, lmao 🫣😂 and people would never say so about me, because I literally look like I have a ribbon buckled to my vagina.

Weird quirks you have Oh, god, I can't stand hand cuts. Like you can literally show me a video of someone having their throat slit and I'll be fine, but then you show me a vid of someone having their palm sliced, or simply just someone cutting their finger and I'll go all asdfghjklsdfghjk.

One talent you wished you had Damn, I wish I could draw from imagination. I can draw but I can't seem to draw anything just by trying to see it in my head. That's so fucking frustrating. And weird. Anyone else having this problem?

A word your friends would use to describe you Idk about one word, but my best friend says I'm the funniest person she has ever met, so does that count? Lol, Idk why she says this. I'm literally a potato.

Craziest thing that's ever happened to you Omg, trauma alert… when my boss (a 70 year old male) caressed the top of my head telling me I'm pretty.

Have you ever been in love? Yes, for over 10 years now (no, it's not a fictional character, lol).

What is your biggest fear? Fuck, it's hurricanes and tornados. I actually have a phobia, it's called 'ancraophobia' and it's a fear of strong wind. (I swear I don't fear normal wind tho, I'm not that weird, actually, ok?).

Why did you start this blog? When I came here one day I realized that there were only a few blogs that were dedicated to the game stuff. So I said why the hell not? I didn't expect to have an actual fanbase here, it's crazy. Love you guys.

Your favorite food? Lentils, that's the shit.

Least favorite food? I'd say meat.

Favorite TV shows? Okay, not gonna mention TLOU cause it's obvious, but the very first show that pops into my mind every time is Breaking Bad. I love this show to bits. Then I also love TWD, OITNB, Better Call Saul, Wentworth, This Is Us, Lost, The Killing.

Favorite movie of all time? My most favorite movie of all time will forever be Ginger Snaps (2000). I've loved this movie ever since I was 11. It's been 19 years ever since and I still love it to pieces. Aaaaah!

Favorite musicians? I love a lot of music, but my most favorite is Damien Rice. I love that guy and what he does. Right behind him are Cigarettes After Sex and Mazzy Star (just pure love). Then it would be Joshua Radin, The Hope Arsenal, Yaeow, The Paper Kites, The Smiths, R.E.M., Blur, BoDeans...

Do you have any pets? My chonky boi guinea pig.