#this is inspired by an actual conversation I had with my husband recently

[yourfavoritehorseman]

Y/n: I'm really excited for the haunted house tonight!

Jason: Are you sure you can handle it?

Y/n: Of course! I love haunted houses. Anything pertaining to Halloween, really.

Jason: No, I know. It's just that, well, I can hear you running down the hallway at night after you flip off the light in the bathroom.

Y/n: ...that's not me! It's probably Damian!

Damian: *from another room* It isn't!

Y/n: Okay, yeah, I do that, but I can totally handle the haunted house tonight!

Also y/n: *jumps when the icemaker makes a noise*

Jason: Whatever you say, baby.

[yourmidnightlover]

the story

pairing: mob!bucky barnes x reader

w/c: 3.5k+

summary: the weeks following bucky ordering that steve be your bodyguard, followed by an insightful night at a gala with your beloved husband.

warnings: mention of the incident with john (groping), slight threats of violence, mention of fear, lip on lip action (the upstairs ones), if i've missed anything please let me know!!

a/n: hiii! the third installment of my forever? series! i didn't even intend for this to be more than one part, but you guys have inspired me to write more for it! my writing schedule is a bit off since i recently started a new job, but i'll try to be a bit consistent with it. i hope you guys enjoy this next part, more to come!

part 2 -> control

the first few weeks with steve as a bodyguard wasn’t too bad. he was actually kinda funny in a grandpa kinda way, and he was an amazing listener. you had bounced a few ideas for your book off of him and he seemed to be very intrigued by some of the plot points you had planned. he even promised to be one of the first customers, right behind bucky (which you may have rolled your eyes at), of course, as long as he was promised a signed copy.

but, at the two month mark you began to miss your independence. of course, the chef bucky had hired was amazing and had years of experience in italian cuisine, but sometimes a girl just wanted some greasy smash burger to chow down on. most nights you ate alone with steve until bucky walked through the front door. 

he always seemed beaten down and tired, as though work was more straining than usual. he would shrug his jacket off, place it on the hook by the door, then his shoes on the rack, and walk upstairs to shower before coming downstairs to eat as you and steve were finishing your plates. you tried your best to start conversation, to be the best company you could but eventually the silence always grew awkward and steve would usher you to go upstairs to your room with a pressed smile. 

after two months of not really needing to show you off i any way, there was an important gala for him to attend. of course, that means that you were to be his beloved arm candy for the night. 

“buck sent me the address for a local boutique that he thinks would be right up your alley,” steve read from his phone as you took a stroll in the garden that was full of beautiful colors. “the appointment is at 3:45, so we have plenty of time to get ready and head there too. oh and he says you should get something in that one shade of green… i’m assuming you know what that is?” his brows raise in confusion, as your mirror his in a stunned expression. 

“surprisingly, i do know what he means for once.” about six weeks before the wedding, you had spent an all nighter with him amidst all of the chaotic planning. 

“accent colors are super important! right now, all we have is an off white color, and while it’s a good color, i don’t want my wedding to wash everyone out that much,” you shoved his side as you sprawled your binders out on the coffee table. 

“i say… green,” he says after pondering for a minute. 

“green… like tree green?” you chuckled at the notion. 

“i mean the green that’s light yet earthy, not too dark but not scream-in-your-face bright. it’s beautiful. plus, i think you’d look stunning in it,” he shrugs casually as if he hadn’t described a mundane color in such an alluring way.

“so a sage green?” 

“maybe more on the jade green side,” he tried to hide a smile as his thumb began to mindly trace nonsense on your thigh. 

there was such elegance in the way he described the simple color, as if saying light green wouldn’t have sufficed. clearly, there was a significance to the mundane shade that he felt the need to recommend it. 

but you knew not to ask anything further to pry, doubting his readiness to comply so easily so early in your relationship. while it was during the happiest days of your relationship, you still knew he held you at arms length. 

at the appointment, you had found several dresses in the perfect color, but only one stood out to you after trying them on. steve was also a good guide in ensuring you were choosing the right one, although you’re sure he would just say every dress looked good regardless. 

growing up, you’d read about a love that was so encapsulating that one would rather face death than be without their lover. you’d yearned for that kind of love. the kind of love that was consuming and irreversible. the kind of love where your partner wouldn’t love you in spite of your flaws, but because of them. 

and now you were married to a man who didn’t seem to feel an ounce of that towards you. sure, the months leading up to your wedding made it seem otherwise. it made you hopeful that he could maybe grow to love you, as you could grow to love him. 

because truthfully, it was hard to see many flaws in the man, other than those that were rumored in the tabloids. you’d read or heard of his anger issues and his lack of patience but abundance of irritability. yet all you’d observed is his laughter, his diligence and compassion. 

it was definitely confusing to want to believe these two contradicting tales of composure, but ultimately seeing is believing. you’d decided to believe whatever he showed you, what was right in front of his face rather than believe whatever was whispered in your ear. besides, if something was worth believing it should be said with their full chest rather than in such a low tone. 

-

“almost ready?” bucky’s low voice rang through the door as you were doing finishing touches on your hair, making sure you looked as presentable as possible. 

“i just have to put the dress on, and i’ll be ready to go!” you replied, unzipping the bag that the dress came in, even though you suggested that doing so was overkill.

“let me know if you need any help.” you heard a thud from the other side that suggested that he was leaning against the door, waiting to hear if you did happen to need any assistance. 

you replied in silence, just stepping into the dress and lifting the straps over your shoulders. it was such a beautifully made gown, truly. it hugged you in the most flattering places, accentuating just the right amount without flaunting too much. the material felt like a warm hug from a lifelong friend, you almost never wanted to take it off. 

the only downside was the damn zipper. it was a bit rough to pull over your hips alone, but once you reached your mid back it seemed to reach a snagging stop. you twisted your arms every way possible, trying to avoid the totally cliche scene of calling him in to zip you up. 

alas, the universe had other plans for you. although, how much could you complain when that would mean his rough, yet gentle hands would be against your skin…

“...bucky?” your voice meekly called out, trying to interrupt your own thoughts from spiralling down the path you wanted them to so bad. 

“yea?” his voice piped up, seeming to jump an octave or two in the process. maybe you jst startled him. 

“could you maybe help me zip this thing up?” you became quiet before the twisting of your doorknob broke the silence. “my arms can’t quite contort the way they need to in order to zip this all the way…” you refused to meet his eyes as he trailed inside the room. 

the first sign of his presence was his hands grasping your shoulders, lightly tracing down your arms. then he leaned down to press a kiss to your bare shoulder, more affectionate than he’d been the entire duration of your marriage without it being prompted. 

“you look beautiful,” he pressed another kiss to your other shoulder before letting his hands fall to a respectable place on your waist, stepping back to seemingly find where the zipper got stuck. “but what’s new, right?”

you chuckled at the compliment. 

“what’ve you been doing recently?” you asked meekly. “i haven’t seen you much at all since steve started his new gig as my babysitter.”

he sighed, stopping his antics to clarify what he felt he needed to. “he’s not a babysitter. he’s my best friend, and the only person i trust to look after the woman that i-the woman that i married, okay?” you felt his deep breathing on your neck before he continued, “i don’t know where john is yet. john is notorious for taking whatever he thinks is his and that night he made it very clear what he believed.” he turned you around to face him, the dress’ zipper be damned. “if anything happens to you… just the thought keeps me up at night. i need you to understand,” his voice was desperate, pleading almost. 

you understood what he was saying. at least, you were pretty sure you did. men in positions of power like bucky typically saw the people around them as pawns. part of you thinks that he’s saying all of this as the controlling, possessive boss man bucky. and that’s the large part of you. but the small part of you, the part of you that still believes in that fairytale love you used to read about, believes that maybe he’s saying all of this because he does feel something for you… something real. 

but that part of you is like… 15 percent. maybe 20…

“i understand,” you nodded, meeting his eyes and seeing desperation, fear. seeing fear radiating from a man that projects a version of himself that’s fearless is a scary thing. 

“good,” he nodded, his eye contact faltering to the dress that clung to your body. “you look indescribable, i’m a lucky man to call you mine.” once again, he grasped your shoulders to turn you around.

this time, he promptly found the zipper, his metal hand tracing nonsensical patterns on your shoulder as he zipped the dress with his flesh one. 

“all done,” he pressed a lingering kiss to your right shoulder. “my beautiful bride.” you wanted to believe him. 

“thank you,” you took a deep breath as you turned to face him. “so, tonight… what should i be expecting?” “well, there are a few people i’ll introduce you to, and a few i have to talk to. but i’ll be with you the whole time,” he pressed his hands into his pockets. “i scheduled a car to take us, and we have about 10 minutes before it should get here.”

“so we’ll be playing the roles of loving wife and doting husband?” you nudged his shoulder before you went to grab your shoes. 

“playing? this is all real, sweetheart,” he took the shoes from your hands, promptly dropping to his knees. 

“what are you-”

“i’m putting your shoes on, my love.” you chuckled before he guided your hand to his shoulder. “gonna want to hold on.” he picked up one of your legs by your calf, grabbing the correct shoe before slowly placing your foot inside and doing the same for your other shoe.

meanwhile, you were stuck staring down at him like a lovesick idiot. this behemoth of a man was beneath you treating you like a princess by putting your heels on for you. what the hell kind of alternate universe have you entered and how can you never leave?

“well, aren’t you a romantic?” you cleared your throat as he remained on his knees, a sight you could get used to. 

“don’t let the news spread around town,” he chuckled as he let your remaining foot hit the ground but not without pressing a kiss to your ankle. “i can’t have others knowing how enamored i am by you, can we?” “enamored?” you chuckled out. “what a word,” you shook your head as you helped him to his feet. 

“the perfect word.” he trailed his hand to a loose strand of hair, twirling it around his flesh fingers before he sighed, “the car should be here soon. we should head downstairs for it.”

it was a 45 minute ride there. you sat in a respectable silence, this time it wasn’t as awkward as it has been in the past. upon arrival, the door was swiftly opened for you, bucky getting out first and then offering his hand to help you step out. the first thirty minutes of the gala went very similarly. he would introduce you to a new face or say ‘hello’ to a familiar one, wrap his arm snugly around your waist before pressing a kiss to your cheek and move on to the next person. 

for a bunch of folks in banking and finance, everything seemed very high stakes. there seemed to be walls up all around you, from each man and woman you said a brief hello to or were meeting for the first time. everyone had decided to adorn a mask for the night, or maybe the mask was a semi-permanent fixture. maybe they’d worn the mask for so long they forgot how to function without one. you hoped you wouldn’t face the same fate.

to be doomed to fake face for so long that you no longer remember what was once real. you wanted something real, even if what you and bucky had was technically fake when you were in public. something about what happened behind closed doors when nobody was around gave you the illusion that part of it was real. 

“have i told you how ravishing you look tonight?” bucky held you close as you swayed to the soft melody. his metal hand was clutching your waist, his flesh hand holding your own.

“i think in different words, yes,” you both began to laugh at his flattery. “you don’t have to keep doing that, y’know? the compliments and everything… i think people get the idea that this is real by now.”

“you don’t get it, do you?” he shook his head before he moved his vibranium hand to your chin, nudging it up for you to meet his eyes. 

“get what?”

“buck,” steve’s voice interrupted your dance, but that didn’t stop bucky from pulling you taut to his side.

steve leaned in to whisper in his ear, but you were able to tell by his stone cold expression that whatever message that was being relayed to him wasn’t as delightful as the desserts from tonight. 

“when?” you barely registered bucky’s low voice over the music. 

steve went back to whispering in his ear and it wasn’t until he pulled back that you wanted to speak up, “what’s going on?”

bucky looked down to you, and when you looked into his eyes, what you saw was very similar to your earlier conversation with him. this time, however, there seemed to be anger buried beneath the stoic traces of fear. that’s when it clicked.

“did they find him?” his jaw clenched and unclenched.

“you told her about-”

“i told her what she deserves to know,” bucky interrupted steve’s accusatory tone. “you don’t get to question me or the decisions i make, especially not when those decisions are in regards to my wife.”

you weren’t sure if bucky was defending you or himself with the way he jumped on steve’s gears. 

“okay, got it,” steve rse his hands in defense before he nodded. 

“what steve was telling me was in regards to him, yes,” bucky clarified. “but it’s nothing important for you to need to know. you don’t have to worry about it, my love,” he let his flesh hand play with that same strand of hair as earlier as he looked down at you like his prized possession. 

oh yea, you almost forgot. that’s what you are to him. his trophy wife, as much as you hate that phrase. 

“when can we go home?” a shiver ran down your spine. what would john even do if he did get his hands on you? was he actually as bad as bucky made him seem, or was he worse? you gripped bucky’s arm tighter as thoughts raced through your brain. 

“hey,” he turned to face you again, his eyes no longer reflecting anger or fear but tenderness. “if you want to leave, we’ll leave. steve can get the car,” he turned briefly to steve who nodded before walking off, “we can talk on the way home. i can tell how many questions are running through that pretty head of yours right now. but i can assure you,” he cupped your face in his hands, and the contrast between the cold metal and the warm flesh was oddly grounding, “as long as your with me, or steve for that matter, you won’t have anything to worry about. i would do anything it takes to keep you safe.”

you nodded, pressing your lips together in a fine line, maybe a bit of doubt running in your head at the lengths he would go to in order to protect you. would he really go to the lengths necessary? would his hand be forced to do that? 

“how bad would it be if i admitted that i was scared right now?” you couldn’t meet his eyes as you admitted it. 

“it’s not bad at all. in fact, i understand. i just hope that you know that this is why steve is watching out for you now,” he dropped his hands to your shoulders, down your arms to hold your hands. 

“will you-would you be up for staying with me tonight?” you popped the question, almost scared of his answer. “like… like you did that night? i don’t really want to be alone tonight.”

“you don’t have to explain,” he smiled. “of course i’ll stay with you.”

the ride home was similar to the ride there, but this time with your head rested on his chest, his arms wrapped snugly around you. you’re sure he thought you were asleep when he pressed a kiss to your forehead. it also wasn’t beneath you to say you liked when he did it…

so much so that you apparently did fall sleep. when you woke up, it was wrapped in strong arms. you strained your neck to look at the clock beside your bed, the one that read 2:35 am. turning in bed to look at bucky, you realized you’d never seen him so peaceful. his hair had grown out a bit long, evident by the way it laid across his forehead. 

when you moved the few locks of hair from his forehead, he began to stir awake. 

“shhh,” you hummed softly. “it’s just me. sorry i woke you.”

“don’t be sorry,” his raspy voice was alluring this early in the morning, or was it late? “i don’t think i’ve slept this good since… well, since that night.”

“are you a secret cuddler, mr. barnes?” you smiled as he pulled you in a smidge tighter as he replied. 

“and what if i am?” “there are no complaints coming from me,” he pressed yet another kiss to yourforehead, then your cheek, your other cheek, and then you pulled back to look in his eyes again. 

the only light that was peaking through was from the hallway underneath the door, but that didn’t stop you from being able to see the bright smile decorating his face, a rare sight to see. 

“how bad would it be if i admitted that i really wanted to kiss you right now?” his thumb trailed across your bottom lip, gently pulling it down and watching it bounce back into place.

“it’s not bad at all,” you let your eyes find his lips before looking into his eyes once more. 

he made the first move, taking his flesh hand and cupping your face before he softly met your lips with his. every other kiss you’d had with him had been for show, cameras or people around to witness and aww at the romantic antics of the newlyweds. this one wasn’t for show. this was purely authentic. gentle, soft, delicate. for a man like bucky, you figured he wasn’t like this very often. this was a side of him not many other people got the privilege of witnessing. 

he was precise in his movements, every swipe of his tongue and every placement his hand made was deliberate, yet he was so tender. the soft grasp of your hair, the easy glide of his hand that began to hold your waist. it was all so consuming, in the best way possible. in the way that you wanted to drown in his presence. 

when you sweeped one of your legs over his, now perched on his lap, you felt him smile against your lips. 

“you’re astounding,” he breathed into you. “breathtaking,” he rearranged his hips, accidentally brushing his hardon against your center. “shit.”

“sorry,” you smiled against him as you pulled back, resting your forehead against his. 

“nothin’ to apologize for,” he shook his head with a laugh. “i mean, you are my wife an’ all.”

“i know, but,” taking a deep breath, you tried to figure out how to word what you wanted to say to him. you came up with nothing. “i don’ know. it’s different. we haven’t necessarily been the most affectionate since our wedding.”

“i didn’t think you wanted anything more,” his face shone with disbelief. “i didn’t want you to think you were forced to be ‘affectionate’ with me. you didn’t really want to marry me in the first place. i realize that.”

were you not this puppet in his master show? some play thing for him to own and display whenever he pleased? had every story you’d heard about him been nothing but that… just stories? could this story of you and him have a happy ending?

tags:

@blackbirdwitch22

@onceithough

@learisa

@mrsnikstan

@cjand10

@mrs-bucky-barnes-73

@armystay89

@adesum

@greatenthusiasttidalwave

@loki-laufeyson68

if you'd like to be added to the tag list, please just leave a comment or message me!

[itscherrylipsforme]

When were you planning to tell us?: Theseus Scamander x fem!reader

Summary: During their wedding your recently married friends can't stop asking questions about your "mysterious" husband. Little they know he is the same man who has been flirting with you during all the ceremony

Warnings: Drinking a little, I guess? But nothing else except that Jacob and Queenie being unaware of the world around them; Leta and Theseus ot being able to hide their chuckles; and Dumbledore being a funny smartass. Takes place after Dumbledore's secrets and in Au where Leta doesn't die and she wasn't enganged with Thesesus

Requested: yes

Words: Around 1130

Author rambles: This is kind of inspired in a wedding I attended a couple of years ago and the situation fitted quite well with the request

Masterlist Characters I write for

Likes and reblogs are appreciated ღ

I do not authorize any of my works to be copied, translated or plagiarized ✗

Bright smiles, sparky eyes and some tears of pure happiness, that was a quick and accurate way to describe most weddings. Jacob’s and Queenie’s was not an exception to this. A small and intimate ceremony on the bakery, only family and friends attending, perfect for the couple union. While the bride and the groom, now wife and husband, were looking at each other with love-dove eyes, you and the rest of the guests were enjoying the sight.

“She looks beautiful today, even more that normally” You whispered to Theseus who was by your side leaning in the desserts table.

“I still believe you were prettier in your wedding” He replied a small grin playing on his lips.

“You are a charmer with words, Theseus Scamander” Your hands slowly moved to take two glasses of champagne, handing one of them to your companion.

“Only because you deserve it, darling” He took a quick sip of the pinkish beverage, which had been Queenie’s idea.

You would have scolded him for his smarmy antics if it wasn’t for your nosy friends who had been half-listening to your talk. Yeah, a small bakery was definitely not the best place to hold a private conversation. It wasn’t long until Mr and Mrs Kowalski came to your way with a mixture of curiosity and surprise.

“y/n you never told us you had been married, honey” Queenie sweet voice echoed in your ears. The realization hit you, you had been caught.

“Actually, I still am” Thesus couldn’t help but chuckle at your words.

“And who is the lucky man?” Jacob managed to speak while taking a bite from the nuptial cake “Do we know him?”

Theseus cheeks were starting to tint in a similar tone to his hair. You wondered how an auror like him, who has supposed to be calm and stern in every situation, couldn’t stop that grin from spreading on his face right now. Luckily for the two of you, Leta Lestrange, your best friend since your Hogwarts years (your guardian angel as you should call her from now on), appeared on the scene.

“What is the fuss for?” she joined the group and thanks to her endearing smile and her ability to put the focus on herself in every situation, you could enjoy a few seconds to think what would you say next. You were so relived thanks to her entry that you didn’t even get annoyed when she playfully stole your glass of champagne.

“y/n has just told us that she is married” The bride explained enthusiastically.

“Ohh…” Great, the last thing you needed right now was another person who couldn’t keep a secret to save her life. Surprisingly, she decided to play along. After all a little fun never hurt anyone “Of course she is, I was the bridesmaid”

“Leta…” You tried to interrupt her in order to finally reveal the truth.

“Wonderful!” Queenie clapped “So you can tell us more about that mysterious husband of hers”

“Yeah y/n, you never told us anything about him” Theseus took a sip of his drink and still he couldn’t hide his smirk.

Oh, he made a big mistake… Never play games with a girl who can play them better, Scamander. You should remind him that later.

“Well, he is the perfect gentleman. Sweet, chivalrous, caring…” You dreamingly looked at the celling “But also a little bossy, stubborn, touchy too. And he always overworks himself with his job to the point its annoying” Your audience was expectant to hear more about it. Theseus tried his best not to look slightly offended while Leta patted his back.

“But you love him, don’t you?” The older Scamander brother asked, his eyes shinning hopefully. One of the many things that made you fall for him since the first day.

“With every piece of my heart” Your gaze was locked in his.

That intimate moment which had somehow grown in a room full of people faded a wide the instance the door’s bell rang, announcing Tina’s and Newt’s arrival in the bakery. God knew what they had been talking about while the rest of you were enjoying the desserts.

“Guys, you will never guess what happened” Jacob said as soon as they came to his sight.

“Y/n is married!” Queenie announced as the sweet gossiper she was.

The young magizoologist’s eyes travelled back and forwards from yours and his brother’s face, clearly confused. The elder Goldstein sister just looked unaware, waiting for an explanation.

“Of course, she is” Newt finally broke the silence “I was the best man”

“You too?” Jacob said surprised “Are we the last ones to discover this?”

“I didn’t know until today either, Mr Kowalski. Although I have been having my suspicions since you two were students. You have never been good at hiding your feelings, Miss l/n”

Dumbledore laughed from the other side of the room where he was leaning on the wall absent-mindedly eating his piece of cake. A privileged position which he took advantage of to listen to the whole discussion.

“Or should I say Mrs Scamander now? Congrats anyway, thanks to your marriage Professor McGonagall owes me ten galleons now” Gasps of shock echoed between the bakery’s walls.

Your husband made himself comfortable, his hands now proudly around your waist in a gentle grip.

“Thanks Professor” he replied.

“When did you make it official if I can ask?”

“Just after he returned from the war. We wanted to keep it simple, Newt and Leta were the only guests” You softly squeezed your husbands hand.

“And when were you planning to tell us?”

“Jacob, sweetie, focus on what is important” His wife corrected him “Why didn’t you tell us?”

You two shrugged the question off. Being honest, you had never truly hidden your union, not intentionally at least. Theseus did not wear his ring on his finger, but in a necklace around his neck. Too afraid that he would lose it in a mission due to his work as an auror; so you decided to do the same. He didn’t keep the gesture of love low-key either. Always calling you pet names or protectively staying by your side. But it was true he did the same for Leta and his brother, and that kisses were always reserved for closed doors for unknown reasons. With those reasons, it was understandable that your friends hadn’t realized sooner you were in fact married. They just took you for an old friend duo. How wrong they were, but as no correction had been said before by either of you they were still ignorant of the fact.

As they say: “Actions speak louder than words” and that was exactly what your husband did. Arms tangled around your hip and lips that were leaning for a kiss which ended up in a resounding applause. In the next years you would receive endless teasing for it, but enjoying the moment you couldn’t care any less about it.

[hetacon]

I know you've asked for Ravioli/Legend art prompts at the moment, but I'm craving seeing more Wild and Twilight hurt/comfort in your sweet art style lol so I had to ask, just in case you get inspired at a later date (no pressure I hope! 💙). Could I just ask for a sweet hug between them, or a piggy back ride, or Twilight watching Wild with resigned concern while he's stuck in a vision? :3 I just love their relationship soooo much and your beautiful art of Twilight sewing and his soft smile as Wild sits wrapped around his arm makes me tear up so much ahhhhhhh anyway much love to you dear, I'm honestly happy to see any art you create and give to us lol so thanks for reading my derpy rambling either way xD

How about all three? :)))

I will literally never turn down requests for the Wolf Siblings (or Wolf Trio), even if I’m not actively asking for requests! The two of them make me so soft, I love them so much and Twilight taking care of Wild is my favorite thing in the whole wide world! 🥺 And I’m glad I held on to this ask for a little bit before I started working on it, but the explanation for why is a little long so I’ll put it under the cut

These drawings actually ended up being extra special because the first two were my last pieces of 2024 and the third is my first piece of 2025!! What a wonderful way to close out one year and start the next!

(Also thank you so much for the compliments on my art, I’m so glad you like that drawing of Twilight sewing and Wild holding on to him ☺️)

So a little bit of Stan Lore for y’all, I have two siblings: my younger sister who’s a couple years younger than me (who I’ve mentioned before) and my older sibling who’s 7 years older than me, who’s been living on their own for about 8 years after they graduated college. The reason I haven’t mentioned my older sibling before is because I’m no longer on speaking terms with them, and part of this is due to the guy they recently married, the short explanation being that both my sister and I don’t trust him and he gives me bad vibes. My current relationship with my older sibling is actually one of the reasons that Twilight and Wild’s bond means so much to me but that’s a story for another day

Anyways, last Christmas, my older sibling and their husband didn’t come over for our family’s usual get-together, much to my sister and I’s relief, but this most recent Christmas they unfortunately did and so I barely interacted with anyone this year because I didn’t want to risk potentially getting trapped in a conversation with either of them, and I even snuck out of the house for an hour to go on a walk with one of my friends. Their husband even being in my house freaks me out and I’ve had more than one panic attack about just the thought of it so I knew that I needed something to get me through us hosting Christmas dinner this year, and I decided Wild and Twilight art was the perfect thing! Luckily it worked, drawing art of my favorite boys helped me calm down and grounded me! So all that is to say, thank you for sending me this request, I really needed it 💜

[rivalswrites]

Monday

Before you read, please be warned that I'm writing based on my impressions of them not only in the game (though it's the biggest inspiration), but some of them with the movies/shows in mind too.

Reader(you) is referred to as ‘Chef’, no appearance mentioned.

Restaurant masterlist

Featuring: Black Widow, Invisible Woman, Mister Fantastic, Black Panther

One of the shorter days when it comes to work, opening the restaurant later in the day after preparation/chores around the place were done.

Even after opening, it takes awhile for the first customer to enter.

The first person to walk in is the ever famous Black Widow, and your pal Natasha. She sits at the counter tops, right by the kitchen, and starts up an easy conversation like you'd both known each other forever.

She orders her usual, a slice of Medovik cake and a cup of coffee. It doesn't bother her that it's premade- if she made you make it after she had ordered it it'd take all day, she wouldn't do that.

Since it's just her, you take a seat and talk to her about what's new. The hottest topic in recent visits being the multiverse obviously collapsing due to the Doom’s. It's really interesting to hear about what she and her acquaintances do to help save the world.

After she finishes up, she takes a moment to watch as you take her dishes and clean them up in the sink before pulling out her wallet and paying. With a brief goodbye from the both of you, she's out the door with a small pep in her step (well, as much as a Black Widow can have).

It doesn't take long for the next customer, or customers, to come in. They're both all smiles when you greet them while walking into the seating area. Reed and Susan always showed up as a pair, never alone.

“Evening you two! Please, take a seat anywhere” you offer, gesturing to the very empty seating.

Susan replies with a small ‘thank you’ before scoping out the best spot while her husband strikes up conversation. “Actually, it's not evening, it's noon. Barely past even” he says, all matter of fact-ly with a know-it-all look on his face.

Susan almost groans at this, almost every time they come here he says that line, over and over. She's quick to grab his arm and drag him over to a booth table, sitting down near the middle with him next to her. Her hand stays wrapped around his arm as you give them menus, much to Reed’s humor as if he doesn't always get the same thing.

“Always such amazing choices, Chef, how this place isn't packed I have no idea” Susan says while looking at the menu, like she doesn't also always get the same thing. It's just polite.

The menus are taken after a moment and back to the kitchen you go to prepare their food. Reed and Susan make small talk about their personal lives and whatever situation they're in. Reed taps at the table while he explains some sort of building process to Susan, while she just leans on his arm and listens happily.

Some time passes and the front door opens, a new customer: obviously. He takes a look around and briefly nods towards the couple, taking his helmet off and standing at the front door for a moment. Taking no greeting as a hint, he takes a menu from the never used host stand and takes a seat across the restaurant to give himself space.

The menu looks different since the last time he saw it, as he doesn't often have the luxury of coming, but all the recipes are still the same.

You come out of the kitchen with a platter in hand, giving a brief ‘hi’ to the new person in the restaurant as you walk over to Susan and Reed.

“Alright, one medium rare steak and strawberry parfait ready to serve. Enjoy you two.” When the dishes are set on the table you walk off to the other person. Reed takes the spoon and dips into the whipped cream and strawberry bits on top of the dessert, taking joy in the sweetness. Susan picks up the steak knife and brutally cuts a slice for her to devour. Nothing like steak for lunch, no?

Standing at the table, you pay the guy on the shoulder, “it's been so long since you've been here, T’challa, how's it been?”

“Work has been constant with the multiverse in collapse” he says, flipping through the menus pages casually, as if he didn't say something that would make a regular person panic. “Ah, you're in on that too? I wonder just how many people do that” a hand rested on your chin as you thought about your genius question.

“Many, many people. Heroes and villains alike” he responds, stopping at a page and pointing at his favorite, “I'll take my usual, please”.

As you take the menu from his hands you nod, “You got it T’challa, give me a few and it'll be out hot and ready” and then you walk back into the kitchen.

The restaurant is quiet, the ambiance is relaxing, soft music plays and the sound of the kitchen adds into it. Conversation from Reed and Susan is quiet, but you can hear them murmur to each other as they eat. T’challa liked the calmness of this magical restaurant, and he thanks his ancestors every time he's there for allowing him this place of peace in the storm of the multiverse. It takes awhile for his meal to arrive, as usual, but it is always so worth the wait.

He's snapped out of his thoughts when a thick brown with a lid is placed in front of him, “bon appetit” you say with a smile, pulling out a spoon from your apron and setting it next to the bowl. “I tweaked the recipe a little, let me know how it is, yeah?”.

The king only nodded as he lifted the lid, steam immediately pouring out. The smell of the braised lamb stew filled the surrounding area and he couldn't help but take a deep inhale. The vegetables were cut in large chunks, and when he poked at them with the spoon they easily split under the pressure- just how he liked it, embarrassingly so. Oh how he wished his sister could join him, but he's been separated from her for what's felt like ages due to the multiversal break.

Susan and Reed had long since finished their dishes, and stayed sitting at the table and opted to just talk to each other for a while. They were allowed to relax a bit before going back to the worldly issues. But eventually they decided it was time to go, both of them standing up. Susan pulled out her wallet and counted some bills before placing down enough for their means- and a plentiful tip for her favorite Chef.

“Thank you Chef!” Reed called out before taking Susan's arm and walking out with her, hearing a yell of ‘see you later!’ from the kitchen before the door closed behind them. And then there was one, peacefully eating his stew.

You came out with a bin and set it down on the table the couple were sitting at, taking their dirty dishes and putting it in the bin to clean later. “oh hell yeah,” you muttered to yourself, flipping through the money before pocketing it. Before going back to the kitchen, you made a quick stop at T’challa’s table.

“Does it taste okay? It's not too bland is it?” The bin is placed on another table as you worriedly ask him questions. “It tastes wonderful, dear Chef, no need to worry” he reassured you, “in fact, I would like a bowl to go, please”.

“Of course, I'll pack up the rest for you” and off to the kitchen you were, bin in hands and placed into the sink before grabbing a large bowl and putting the leftovers into it. After wrapping it into a plastic bag, you take it out and place it on the table next to his helmet, “here you go, it'll reheat easily no matter how you choose to do so”.

Precious coins were placed in your hand before you had the chance to leave the table, T’challa being the giver. “Thank you, Chef, I always enjoy the meal”, his politeness always being welcome. He pushes the chair back and stands up, grabbing his helmet and putting it on before the plastic bag. Raising the bag above his head as another thank you, he pushes the chair in and walks out of the restaurant.

Emptiness meant time to clean, taking the dirty dishes and rinsing them before going to run the dishwasher. Knives are cleaned by hand and put away gently, some even sharpened before being put in the knife block. Pans are also cleaned by hand, rinsing off the butter and fat left over from meats and vegetables. Counters are wiped down and then tables that were used get the same treatment, gentle humming being accompanied by the cloth rubbing against wood.

When all is cleaned you mark the day over, going to the front door and flipping the sign to ‘closed’ before turning off all the lights.

Maybe you'll go out with some friends for the rest of the day, or just stay home and binge movies, who knows?

[the-blue-eyed-firebender]

Hi!

Have I ever told you this? (Probably! But I'll say it again, ha) It's been an absolute treat reading your Royai fics. Thank you for joining this fandom!

What are your inspirations? 😃 In terms of writing style, but also ideas, etc. Please indulge us all, and please do geek out about your writing process too!

I always love learning about how fan fic writers work and write!

Thank you, and I hope you have a lovely day~

Hey there!

You are so kind. It's hard to put into words how much it means to have had such a lovely reception from the FMA fandom. I used to write a lot when I was a kid, but eventually stopped due to some unfortunate and painful circumstances. Writing for this fandom over the last couple of months has been an incredible journey. It has healed some very intrinsic parts of me that I’d forgotten were wounded, and I have written more in the last few months than I have in 15+ years.

So, first and foremost, thank YOU.

Inspirations: I've always been a lover of fantasy and science fiction. My very first fandom was Star Wars, followed shortly thereafter by Avatar: The Last Airbender. Recently, I've become a huge Sarah J. Maas fan (I read ALL of her books in the year 2023 - minus the new one that came out in January). I've also enjoyed Suzanne Collins and Leigh Bardugo (particularly her Six of Crows duology).

But really, I just love stories. I love adventure, magic, and romance. I look for complex characters, vibrant worlds, strong magic systems, and rich backstories. My favorites always involve women who embody strength (mental, physical, and emotional), capable leadership, and femininity. Characters who are equal parts war-like and compassionate, fearsome yet soft.

But my very best inspiration comes from real-life: my sweet husband. It's going to sound silly, but I feel like I write about true love because I've experienced it. This guy was 100% written by a woman (lol). He's read everything I've written, and provides the most wonderful feedback and encouragement.

As far as style/process, I feel like I am still developing it? Haha! It's only been a minute since I got back into writing. But it usually starts with daydreaming to music (often songs without lyrics; Secession Studies is a favorite), typically while I'm in the car. With my first FMA fic, The Counteroffer, I was listening to "Beautiful Things" by Benson Boone on repeat. Something about the way he sings "Please stay / I want you, I need you, oh God" really set the tone for that story. That, combined with inspiration from the infamous Chapter 54 of A Court of Mist and Fury.

There's usually an moment or a line of dialogue that pops into my brain first (for The Counteroffer, it was Hawkeye lifting the discharge paperwork to find Mustang has also given her an unsigned marriage certificate). I write that bit, then the rest of the story sort of fills in around it. I write in disjointed fragments, adding chunks here and there and then connecting them together. Sometimes I shuffle things around, moving chunks to different locations in the story to see how it changes the flow.

Beginnings, endings, and titles are usually the hardest for me to come up with.

And here's a few of my own patterns that I've started to notice:

I love stories that read with a poetic beat to them (I think the best example of this in my own work is Hourglass).

I use line breaks for emphasis a lot.

I am intentional about keeping things concise but impactful. When it comes to word count, my personal rule is quality > quantity, always.

I try not to use "said/says" without other descriptive words.

If a portion of the story is dialogue driven, I'll read it aloud to make sure it actually flows like real conversation.

I often drop "and" from sentences when I feel like it messes with the poetic flow ("She became familiar with the space between heartbeats, the squeeze of the trigger, the wet sound of a bullet finding its mark." - Hourglass).

In the same vein, I use a sort of "rule of threes" quite a bit. I break sentences into three parts, offer three descriptions of a character's observation/sensation/emotion, repeat the same phrase three times, etc. (Oh look, I've done it again.)

I write in third person, present tense, always from the perspective of one character at a time. I feel like this puts myself and the reader right in the middle of the action, as it's happening. I dive deep into the primary character's thoughts and senses, both internal and external.

I re-read/re-watch the original content (i.e. FMAB, the manga) often, even if it's just in small parts. It keeps me grounded to who these characters are, and prevents me from going OOC. It's so easy to lose track of characterization if it's been too long since I watched an episode or read a chapter.

Hoo boy this got long. Thanks so much for the delightful ask! It was a lot of fun to dive into my own writing process and habits.

[magodangretsus]

I have fanfiction ideas but I can't write them prose form, so I'm gonna write my idea in a tumblr draft so it will exist in some form even if I never get to actually writing it.

Follows from the last episode of Tiger and Bunny, can be either au or just decide that Yuri survives and is found.

Also it is clear to me that Kotetsu and Barnaby are married in all senses but (maybe) legal. And it's also obvious to me that some time during s2, Barnaby approached his husband about opening the relationship after reconnecting with Matias, which Kotetsu allowed.

And so this is when Kotetsu, having come around on that whole polyamory thing, perhaps considers pursuing a second partner as well.

Yuri is taken to the hospital, confesses while there, and eventually is sentenced to several years of prison and a good deal of mandatory therapy. During his hospital recovery which would preclude his sentence, Kotetsu and Barnaby, but especially the former, would pay him visits, which is a bit surprising but appreciated.

So either this is an au where Yuri is talked down from burning himself alive and jumping, or he is found alive afterwards. Either way, Yuri is convinced to live (you realized it's wrong to kill people for being "bad", this includes yourself, also if you feel bad for doing bad things, you can make up for it by doing good things from now on, etc), and so decides to turn himself in and face justice for what he did as Lunatic.

Yuri goes to prison, the heroes are reinstated and the NEXT returned to society, and Stern Bild gradually rebuilds after the destruction of the X outbreaks. Kotetsu, by popular demand once again, is allowed to continue working as a hero despite no longer being NEXT, and he along with the disabled Barnaby share their dream of inspiring weak and non-NEXT to see themselves as heroes too by being crowned Buddy Heroes. It's rough, but being used to only having access to their powers for 5 or 1 minute at a time before, it's surprisingly manageable. (Sorry Kaede, your dad still isn't coming home, but you sort of figured that already.)

Yuri hears about much of the above by Kotetsu, who is visiting him regularly in prison. This confuses Yuri, who is not entirely sure where they stand considering their former professional relationship and hero-villian rivalry. But Kotetsu has his reasons. One is to reassure Yuri that since losing his powers, even though he clings to his work as a hero, he isn't going to become like Mr. Legend. Another is to make sure Yuri is okay - he nearly killed himself before the prison sentence, and during his interrogations it became known that his mother was recently murdered, and that he's been suffering from psychotic visions for years. Kotetsu knows enough to understand him, even when they've disagreed with each other, and that means he cares enough to meddle (as Bunny would say).

So they talk, almost weekly, over the next several years. Kotetsu goes to the prison with Origami sometimes. And while Barnaby doesn't share the same impulse to get further involved with Lunatic, he can see where it's coming from, and is happy for Kotetsu when he talks about their regular chats, how their old director has started being less stiff around him and maybe even cracked a joke the other day.

Eventually, Yuri is released (with parole). For all the murders he committed, it feels soon, but he cooperated extensively during his sentencing and did help save the city.

Kotetsu is there when he's released. He invites him to drinks. Yuri accepts.

They go drinking, and mostly talk about what's next for Yuri. Yuri, guard lowered by alcohol and the many conversations they've had, thanks Kotetsu for being there for him all this time, and says he may not have believed in a future for himself without him, or had the strength to reach it. Kotetsu puts an arm around him, he cries, and Kotetsu offers to take him home because they're getting to be emotional and drunk messes.

Kotetsu wakes up in bed with Yuri. Shit.

Yuri wakes up hungover in bed with Kotetsu, who is panicking severely, because he is in a committed relationship with another man. Yuri takes stock and concludes that they did not have sex, but does remember making out pretty heavily before falling asleep in each other's arms. Knowing this was not intentional on Kotetsu's part, he offers to never speak of this again and pretend it never happened, an offer which Kotetsu eagerly and gratefully takes.

Kotetsu makes him fried rice for breakfast, says the fat helps with the hangover. It tastes very good. Kotetsu hands him his wrinkled shirt off the floor. Yuri feels some things and promptly ignores them. They part ways.

Kotetsu returns to work, and Barnaby asks how Yuri's release went, and Kotetsu does the dumb thing where he gets extremely nervous and suspiciously stammers a vague answer. He is sort of hoping that because they agreed never to speak of it again, that also means he doesn't have to tell his boyfriend about drunkenly cheating on him, because that is scary. (Barnaby is also in a relationship with Matias, but Barnaby asked for Kotetsu's permission before pursuing a relationship with him, and Kotetsu has not done that because he didn't think he was attracted to Yuri.)

The problem is - Kotetsu is still thinking about it. And, he knows he prioritizes his relationship with Barnaby, but he still cares about Yuri, and still wants to be there for him as he reacclimates to life after prison, especially when he was such a public figure both in and out of his mask. There is still definitely some worrying about his mental health, even with the therapy seeming to go well recently. Kotetsu worries. He is Kotetsu.

(Re: worrying about his mental health and still caring about him, Yuri probably calls Kotetsu at least once after a Hero TV broadcast ends just to hear his voice, prove to himself that he's safe. Living with the voices of the dead and losing family suddenly both will make you worry about this.)

Kotetsu assumes what happened there only happened because of the alcohol and heightened emotions, and Yuri is so cold and serious, surely when we're both sober, there won't be any kind of mood or opening for something like that to happen again!! Right!! If I just see him again, the atmosphere will be so different and I'll stop thinking about this!! He probably already has anyway!!

... It's normal, at first. Yuri is deadpanned and serious, but there's a humor to him now, one they formed over time; Kotetsu over-acts and Yuri plays the straight man, sometimes giving a sarcastic quip or a little smirk at his antics. Kotetsu can throw an arm around him and feel neither icy glare nor vengeful flame. But, uh, usually he doesn't glance away with a blush on his face. Uh oh. Uh. This silence is getting a little long. Oh no. Oh no, they're both thinking about it.

... Kotetsu tries to bring up Barnaby to assert how Normal things are. The atmosphere gets worse. This isn't good.

Kotetsu finally tells Barnaby about what happened the night Yuri was released. Barnaby is understandably not thrilled, but believes Kotetsu when he says he never anticipated or intended on that happening, and that nothing has happened since. But uh. So, Bunny, you know how you asked about opening our relationship..? I totally get it if you aren't comfortable with me doing it, especially considering what I just told you!!! But... Uhm...

Barnaby is a bit reserved, but ultimately decides that he can't possibly expect Kotetsu to be alright with his relationship with Matias if he can't be comfortable with Kotetsu seeing other people. With knowing consent. And it's been a few years since Matias was added to their relationship - they had some road bumps, Kotetsu was insecure at first (and didn't voice his discomfort because of said insecurity), but they've had many conversations since and both clearly know their rules about this kind of thing. So, okay. I know how much you care about him, and I know you're a stubborn old man so I doubt I could change your mind. Hmph. Love you too.

So, permission gained. Kotetsu no longer needs to feel guilty about these thoughts and memories that don't go away. Now the challenge is actually broaching the subject with Yuri.

Soooo, Yuri, want to get drinks again someti- oh, you're busy? Okay, well, when are you next free? ... You're not sure? Well, I mean - you're taking breaks, right? I know you overwork yourself! That's a bad habit to fall back into, I know things must be pretty overwhelming right now; I know, let me help you!! I insist!!

He forces his way in. Yuri is tense, and light small talk isn't lightening the mood at all. Yuri has already caught on that Kotetsu has something he needs to say to him, his guard is up for whatever it is. Kotetsu is so bad at hard, adult conversations. But. Soo, Yuri... Uh. Oh, how's Bunny? He's good! He and Matias! The three of us have been going out more as a trio, actually, and I still feel a little awkward being so much older than the two of them, but Matias is a nice guy, and we're kind of figuring out a dynamic! Not like, a romantic one, but - ohh the atmosphere in here feels like it's getting very cold very fast. He's not looking at me.

Ahem. Speaking of that. I, uh, I talked to Bunny. About the other night. When we went drinking. He wasn't thrilled, obviously, but, uh... Well, we do have an open relationship, so, uh... I, uh... If you'd... Y-yeah, I am suggesting that, if you wanted to, we could also... Yeah, yeah he's okay with it. Uh. No, I, don't think you'd have to go on double dates with the three of us. Like, they probably wouldn't mind? Bunny likes you by now! No you don't have to. But uh. Does that mean you....?

Kotetsu and Yuri get together. The relationship progress is very slow, which Kotetsu is able to be patient for because he still has Barnaby. Kotetsu doesn't know how much it'd be weird to talk to Barnaby about it, but he shares some of his worries with Matias, who has some insight about being introduced into a really strong, established relationship as someone on much unsteadier ground. Kotetsu dotes incessantly on his new boyfriend to try to reassure him, and Yuri insists he's not insecure, just unused to... Expressing himself. Not comfortable with it yet. But... Appreciates Kotetsu's patience, and, does love him, even if he's still learning to show it.

Things continue, and Barnaby gradually settles on curiosity. It's just... Hard to imagine the Director interacting comfortably with anyone, let alone someone as loud and brash as Kotetsu.

The first time he sees them interact, Yuri is just frozen. Awkward. How do I act around The Husband. I'm still getting used to flirting in general, how do I do it in front of other people, especially this person??

Barnaby: The old man isn't giving you a hard time, right?

Yuri: ... I think we communicate fine.

Barnaby: ....

Yuri: ....

Barnaby: Well, if you do ever have any trouble, you can come to me. I have some tricks for handling him.

Yuri: Thank you, Barnaby.

Barnaby: .....

Barnaby: I hope you know you two have my support. And I'm glad you seem to be doing well.

Yuri: Thank you, Barnaby. And it would not have come to this if I was not aware of your consent.

Barnaby will later complain to Matias at how painfully awkward it was. He'd started to feel bad for the guy. Kotetsu got worried about the atmosphere and kissed Yuri in front of him to try to reassure him it was okay, and it only made him more stiff. Kotetsu is an idiot. (No, Matias, they don't seem bad for each other, I think Kotetsu will be okay, it's just... That man. He's just like this. But I suppose opposites attract?)

And that is my fic idea, oh no it's past 1am

EDIT: More scenes

Also after they get together, Kotetsu is like "do you want to meet my kid?" and Yuri, who has several varieties of parent related trauma, and is also a known murderer, is like "uhh are you sure you want to do that?" and Kotetsu does because he wants to introduce the people he loves to each other.

Except, uh, as we've covered, Kotetsu is bad at having Important Adult Conversations. And the whole "explaining polyamory to my 13 year old" thing seemed... Listen, when Barnaby first got together with Matias, Kotetsu sort of felt like he was being traded in for someone younger and smarter. That obviously was never the case, and he's gotten past that, but he wonders if Kaede will worry that Barnaby doesn't like him anymore and he's just living in denial. So he never told her about Matias.

But now he wants to tell Kaede about Yuri, which means explaining polyamory and that Bunny is okay with it (she knows he and Barnaby are together), and the best way he can explain that is that Barnaby was the one who taught him about polyamory in the first place. Which means he's going to be throwing a lot at her at once.

Kaede is initially overwhelmed, but this is still less shocking than her dad dating her celebrity crush, she can handle anything at this point. Yes dad I'll meet your second boyfriend.

And then Yuri is on a video call with her, or meeting her in person, and he doesn't consider himself very good with kids but... Kaede, I love your father and I believe he's a good man. But my father was once a good man before he started losing his powers. If anything ever happens, know that I will defend you.

Kotetsu: ... I don't know whether to feel touched or threatened...

Kotetsu: I mean, I already lost my powers and I'm still a good man, right?? Right??

Yuri: You are, or I would not be here.

Kotetsu: Right!!!

Kotetsu: Ohhh Kaede, also be careful touching him because he's a NEXT and his power is very dangerous!

Yuri: ....

Okay NOW I'm done with my extremely ambitious fic outline I may or may not write one day (after I do quite a bit of research into how parole works).

[feastingonchrist]

so a lot of good things happened today at church. the message inspired me to finally talk to our worship pastor, who actually was the one who gave the message today. it was essentially about taking up your mat and walking - not staying where you're at if you truly want a fresh start (and healing, etc) - but walk toward where God is calling you to be and walk with obedience into the freedom He has for us. That has been the ongoing theme of my life essentially since November when i first came to my church, but especially since December because that is when i began the process to begin working as i was offered a position in the church if anything came up pretty much immediately after going there the first night. warning: this is very long but like i said it's hard to condense things down so its a bit messy so read at ur own risk i guess. it's like 6 paragraphs lol. But i think it's worth it because it's a recent testimony of some things God has helped me with/done for me!

before i get into what my main point is, i wanted to share a few things. i had many people i don't know say kind things to me and i appreciated that, so much that i gave one of those ladies a hug and i had never seen nor met her before. i got to talk to one of my favorite ladies who has taken a liking to me for whatever reason and she is so excited about me working and asked me how it's going. i basically told her how i just keep showing up as i have been since i got to my church and that i was enjoying it. i also told her how peaceful the church is in service and she was telling me that God has brought me there for a reason and is doing great things for me. she told me she loves me and looks forward to seeing me each week and i told her the same thing too. her husband talked to me again and he's usually very quiet but he also seems excited for me. we have a mutual friend at our church who got us settled in so i'm sure they've been talking about things. idk i was much more social today and was in the moment enjoying my conversations and it was so nice!

but during service, i was thinking maybe it was time to talk to my worship pastor to tell her how blessed i've been coming there each week. one of the biggest reasons i even showed up again was because of the music actually being good, it being peaceful in there (as opposed to a loud, non-denominational distracting sensory overloading environment that takes me out of focus with God) and just appreciating the grace that is present when she has something to say. i have just experienced so much freedom and joy and excitement there and she has been a big part of that. so i did pray and ask God if there was a moment i could talk to her that i wanted to and asked for the words to say. while she was praying about obedience and walking into freedom by taking a step, i was also praying against my anxiety about talking to her. He has been working on my social anxiety and i've noticed a change in myself - BUT SO HAVE OTHERS. they told me that today and it made my day! my mom and i went out to eat with the mutual friend i mentioned and had a good time. i had also written him a letter and he was encouraged and said some kind things back to me a couple times including today.

so at the end of service as i was talking to those people and warming up to the idea, i finally just went and stood by the platform as she was talking to some people. for whatever reason, i hugged her before saying anything??? but i told her a few things i wanted to say - not perfectly or what i really wanted to but i was nervous yet it's okay cause i can say more later when i get the chance, tho i may still write her a letter as i previously planned. but she asked if she could pray for me and did that and it meant a lot to me. she also told me thank you for the encouragement. that was the whole reason i wanted to say anything - other than saying thank you - i just wanted to give back and pour into someone else as i've been receiving so much in the very little time i have been at this church. last night i watched a video saying to say what you need to say and let God meet you in that, so i finally did that. i have been led to encourage people and call out the grace in others and to not hold back. it can be very scary to do so, especially for me, but i am practicing my social skills and i just have to do it lol. that's the whole "showing up and walking into freedom" thing.

but i am actually so proud of myself for not walking in fear but instead walking by faith and walking into freedom. i have never felt more blessed in my entire life than i do now in this current season of life. i used to just idly get by because i was comfortable not being uncomfortable, but at the same time, was uncomfortable being comfortable. i was tired of my life and wanted something new. i had been desperately praying for a church to go to that would work for me and i'd actually enjoy (i tried out many churches but the environment felt cold and the worship was all loud/flashy & distracting and only CCM and that makes all my sensory systems bleed!) and i was also praying for a job. AND I GOT BOTH AT THE SAME TIME. i'm also praying for friends my age and a boyfriend lol.

i really don't wanna get redundant in saying i can sense grace at work in my church or even in my personal life, but oh my goodness God has been opening so many doors for me and it's been so tangible and also spiritual- like i can't unsee it in people and their ministries/feel it in the air. idk how to explain it any better than that. but oh my gosh my faith has grown so much in like 60 days just because i keep on showing up even when it's scary or i'm uncomfortable. God's shown up for me over and over and i trust Him so much more now. He's had me in Psalm 23 since October and everyday i am reminded of different verses in it and am encouraged or even led to simply lie down with Him and practice spiritual discipline. It's been so rewarding. The shepherd/sheep imagery just captivates my heart every single time. It's so beautiful and comforting. Making strides with God by my side and i can't stop winning hehe. This is why i can't stop saying how blessed i am or talking about the freedom, peace, and now finally joyful i have been receiving. I never though i'd be experiencing any of this but here i am!!! i just feel overall relieved and brighter. "unburdened by what has been" if you will HAHA that quote actually makes me laugh now it's so fitting tho fr.

anyways i pray someone is blessed by this. i just wanted to share my story and say that God has not forgotten about you if you are someone who hasn't experienced whatever it is that you feel He has promised all of us. He wants to and will. Waiting seasons are hard and so is the wilderness. The wilderness is where we prepare for where He is taking us. It tests our faith, perseverance and endurance. It can be scary, confusing and ugly. But He does so much refining in that season and you will begin to appreciate the hard times because one day you'll look back and see how He kept showing up for you and you'll gain greater trust in Him and reverence toward Him. The harvest season is incredible and full of life, newness, and many blessings. But we must be ready to steward what He has given us and to not forget about Him when things are working out in our favor. I've had to learn that as practicing spiritual discipline has become harder. i think it's been a little bit of sudden spiritual warfare, but also laziness once i realize i gotta lock in and keep moving forward and to find joy in His presence and word again. I have been stuck in singing the doxology as my worship time bc it brings me joy and it's my fav part in church bc i get to hear it w the organ! So that's where i'm at along with Psalm 23. I'm getting back into slowing down and learning to sacrifice my time to instead sit and dine with Him again! His grace never ceases - and never ceases to amaze me. Like it's only getting started every single time. He is SOOOO GOOOOOOD!!!!!!! Everyday i am reminded as to why i need the gospel, what the gospel is and what it offers, and i absolutely love that!! It keeps me in humility and reverence toward God and knowing that i can't do it alone nor trust in my own abilities. Only what He did on the cross and continues to do for me daily. That is true grace and it's so beautiful.

[delta-lethonomia]

Asking!!! How about 7, 11, and 20??

Oooh! For my fic "For All The Wrong Reasons" (not that I currently have anything else published, but future proofing haha)

7. What inspired the idea for the plot?

Astarion's Act 2 romance scene, after the conversation with Araj Oblodra where they player can offer to have a relationship with him without sex for as long as he needs. It's a sweet scene but it made me stop and stare at the screen for minutes. I wasn't playing myself in BG3, but I had to ask myself - would I be okay with a sexless relationship? Would my character? And the answer was no.

Having been in relationships with very unbalanced libidos, it fucking sucks. Strong female sexual desire gets treated as unimportant or even a bit of a joke in media, so I wanted to write a character who'd get to that scene and have the maturity to say "hey, I really like you and I want this to work, but not having sex is going to be a problem for me". Of course, now that I've actually made it to that scene in my fanfic it turned out very different hahaha!

11. Was there a scene that you hadn't originally planned to include? Why did you decide to fit it in?

Tons of the recent eldritch horror stuff. I wanted Tav's patron to be the Great Old One from the beginning (as that's what I played in my first run), but in the manual that particular relationship is described as warlocks stealing power from an unknowing being. I needed Tav to have a firm contract for plot reasons but that's not really possible if one party doesn't know the other exists. So the GOO/Cthulu-esque being needs to know of Tav in some way, but I also wanted to make it clear that that's a very bad thing.

Becoming a Warlock is supposed to be something only the most power-hungry, arrogant, or foolish individuals do, because you're basically selling your soul or sanity for power. It's important characterization for Tav to show why she chose to go through with it - but therefore, it needs to be appropriately dangerous, disgusting, or violating, so why not all three?

20. What is something you wish more people noticed about this fic?

Ooooof that's a tough one. I guess there's two parts:

a.) The fic started off as a smutty oneshot that grew overtime so I feel it's not really obvious that there's a budding plot in the beginning. I worry that new readers might read the first few chapters and kind of write it off as a toxic dark romance, and not stick around for the way the mystery and romance continue to develop later on.

b.) In the fic, I don't think people have really picked up on just how repressed and depressed Tav is. There's tons of stuff she just doesn't think about. She has no goals, drinks a lot, and has no relationships (even casual friendships) after her husband died over 20 years ago. She's very stagnant. Astarion's a very dynamic character by contrast; he spends time mulling over a new piece of information, emotionally works through it, and then changes over time, while Tav is still stuck on shit that happened decades ago, still having anxiety attacks, still putting up walls and keeping people away.

As one eagle-eyed commenter pointed out, Tav was born to a young teenage mother working as a prostitute, unable to afford a contraceptive. Now, Tav works producing contraceptives for the very same brothel, providing a service that would have prevented herself from being born. That's not a great headspace to be in, and she was certainly not doing it out of the kindness of her heart.

[ardent-fox]

☀️ Joy List ☀️

Thank you to my darling @celestialmickey, @energievie and @look-i-love-u for tagging me to create a Joy List 🥰 I'm so late that I considered just skipping it this time around, but doing these makes me happy, so here we go ✨️

💖 Pride month! My husband and I have always been allies but this is our first time (privately) celebrating ourselves after we each had certain realizations and came out earlier this year, so this June has been an extra fun, joyous time for us 🏳️‍🌈

💜 I recently went to an interview for a possible position at an interior design studio, which has always been an interest of mine. I'm not expecting anything to come out of it other than an office job, but am excited about the idea of starting somewhere in the field.

💙 How happy Jasper has been lately. It took us days to trim his nails because every time we come up to him he just wants to run around and play with us, he's such a goof 🐇

💖 My 2 y.o. nephew learned the phrase "Shame on you!" and has been saying it to everyone for whatever reason, the child is hilarious.

💜 Consistent work on my WIPs. It's been super slow, but I'm learning a lot and making steady progress 💪

💙 A hot cup of tea and a small bowl of cookies and chocolate just for me.

💖 Enjoying summer thunderstorms on the balcony for the first time now that we actually have a roof 🌧

💜 Two-hour phone conversations with my brother.

💙 The upcoming shopping date with my mom (you know you're an adult when you're excited about getting new bedsheets 😅).

💖 When I'm having a restless, sleepless night and my husband reaches for my hand and holds it til I relax.

💜 Speaking of relaxed, having people over and them saying they feel so chill in my apartment they could fall asleep.

💙 Everything and everyone in this fandom, you're an amazing bunch and keep me inspired even when things get sucky 🫶

Skipping tagging for obvious reasons, but sending love to you all! 🥰🫂

[storiesforallfandoms]

hand delivered ~ corpse husband

word count: 1498

request?: no

description: in which he surprises her with a visit, and she surprises him with something else

pairing: corpse x female!reader

warnings: swearing

masterlist (one, two)

i was inspired by corpse hand delivering sykkuno’s hoodie so i had to write a hella fluffy imagine on it

“I swear to God Rae!” you exclaimed as Rae giggled at her actions.

The two of you were streaming GTA V together at Rae had taken an amusement to stealing cars and driving them towards you, narrowly avoiding killing you every time. For obvious reasons, this wasn’t exactly keeping you under the radar of the cops. Quite the opposite, actually. You were spending most of your time running from both Rae and the cops.

“We’re never gonna make any money at this rate,” you told her. “We’re gonna spend it all on bail fees.”

“Don’t be so dramatic!” Rae argued. “Just jump in, we’ll go to the next job.”

“I can’t jump in when you’re trying to run me over!”

Rae giggled again as your chat joked about what she was doing to you. You rolled your eyes at everyone, but you couldn’t stop the smile that was on your face.

Before you could jump into the car that Rae had recently stolen, you heard a knock at your door. You paused a moment, confused. You weren’t expecting anyone, and you hadn’t ordered any take out or anything. You decided to ignore it, figuring maybe it was a wrong place or something and if no one answered they’d leave. But the knock came again, this time a bit louder and faster.

“Hey, don’t get us killed, I gotta go AFK for a second,” you told Rae. You heard just a piece of her response as you set your headphone aside and made your way to your front door.

You were looking down when you opened the door, prepared to tell whoever was there that they were at the wrong house, but instead your gaze landed on a pair of familiar hands holding a black and red hoodie, folded in a way that all you could see was the familiar fanart of Corpse Husband.

Against your better judgement, you let your eyes trail up to the face of your visitor, the real life version of the face on the hoodie, smiling down at you. Your eyes widened. It was the first time you had ever seen Corpse’s face, and it felt illegal to be standing here looking at him. You quickly covered your eyes, willing yourself to forget what you had saw.

“(Y/N),” Corpse laughed. “You don’t have to cover your eyes.”

“I saw your face!” you said. “I-I saw your actual face! I have to gouge my eyes out or something!”

You felt his cold hands taking hold of your own, lowering them from your eyes so you could look up at him again. Although you tried to stop yourself, you let your eyes wander over his face, taking in every detail. It occurred to you in that moment that this was the first time you were seeing the face of a man you had been crushing on for the past six months.

“Come in,” you said, realizing that he was still just standing outside. “Come, get comfortable. I’m-I’m streaming, I’ll be right back.”

“You don’t have to end your stream early because of me.”

That voice! It comes from an actual person! A real, living person!

“You really think I’ll be able to return to my stream for another few hours while you’re here?” you questioned. “It’s fine, it’s just GTA with Rae. She’ll probably play with Sykkuno instead when I get off.”

You felt like you were in a daze as you returned to your room. You quickly told Rae you were hopping off stream and you’d explain to her - and to your viewers - why later on. Your chat started asking what was wrong, but you ended the stream before responding.

When you returned to your living room, you saw the back of Corpse’s curly, brown haired head sitting on your couch. Your heart was racing with so many different emotions. You couldn’t believe he was actually here, that the voice you had befriended nearly half a year ago was actually sat in your house.

“Wait a second,” you said, realizing something. “Don’t you live like...five hours away? Corpse, did you drive five hours to come visit me?”

He looked up at you and shrugged. “Yeah, so?”

“So?! Corpse, you have nerve issues! You can’t even sit straight for ten minutes!” You were suddenly starting to feel guilty, although obviously you hadn’t asked Corpse to come visit you.

“I’m fine!” he assured you. “Do I look like I’m in pain? I wanted to come give you your merch, and I figured this would be a nice surprise too!”

You went to sit next to him, your heart beating faster the closer you got to him. You were sure this was just a dream and you’d wake up in bed at any moment. To test your theory, you slowly inched your finger forward to softly poke Corpse’s cheek. He chuckled as you jumped back, shocked by the success of your touch.

“You’re real!” you blurted, causing more laughter.

“I am real. Are you surprised?”

“Just a little,” you admitted.

You both sat in silence, just looking at one another. You weren’t really sure what to say. It was like every possible topic you could bring up, or every joke you could make, was suddenly gone. It was obvious Corpse was feeling the same as he was usually the one who could keep a conversation going.

“Try on your hoodie,” he finally said, passing you the hoodie he was still holding to you. You took it excitedly and slipped it on over your head. The warm material engulfed you immediately. It was definitely a few sizes too big, but that was your favorite part - the bagginess of it.

“It’s perfect,” you told him. “Thank you so much for bringing it to me.”

“I told you I would. I really wanted you to have at least one article of my merch. You were so excited for it when I released it.”

You held the hoodie close to your nose, taking in the scent of Corpse that still lingered on it. There was so much happiness bubbling up inside of you that you felt like you were going to burst at any moment. You really did not think things could get any better.

“Can I hug you?” you asked.

Corpse smiled and opened his arms as a response. You immediately lunged into them, wrapping your arms around him and hugging him tightly. It was the last confirmation you needed that this was all real, that Corpse was really there.

The hug was prolonged and eventually Corpse was pulling you into his lap, squeezing you back as if afraid that you would disappear too. You rested your head against his shoulder, feeling his curly locks brush against your face. You never wanted to let go, and you could tell that Corpse felt the same way.

When you finally pulled away from the hug, you looked down into Corpse’s eyes. His hands were still resting on your hips, and yours were on his shoulders. Before you could stop yourself, you were leaning forward to kiss him. The minute your lips collided, it was like someone had set off fireworks inside your small apartment.

You pulled away almost immediately, realizing what you had done. “I-I’m sorry. That-that wasn’t right of me. I’m sorry.”

There was a small smile on Corpse’s face as his hands came up to cup your face and pulled you to him, attaching his lips to yours again.

Just when I thought today couldn’t get any better.

Forgetting the world around you, you became lost in one another. Your arms were back around Corpse’s neck, holding on to him as if you were afraid he’d disappear if you let go. One of his hands was still on your cheek as the other slipped behind your head, your hair tangling around his fingers. There was so much passion in the kiss that it made your head spin, and when the two of you finally pulled away it felt like your head was spinning.

“You don’t have to apologize,” Corpse told you. “I may have been hoping something like this would happen when I got here.”

“What?” you questioned. “Why did you never tell me how you were feeling?”

“I could ask you the same thing,” Corpse teased. “I was always flirting with you, I had hoped you’d get the message.”

“Corpse, you flirt with everyone!”

The two of you laughed. You couldn’t help but dip your head to kiss him once more. His lips were intoxicating, and you just wanted to kiss them all the time.

“How long were you planning on staying?” you asked.

“I don’t know. I was going to see how well this visit went and go from there.”

You giggled and cuddled into Corpse’s arms. “Well, you’re welcome to stay as long as you want. I think I’ll have a hard time letting you go now, though.”

“I think I’ll have a hard time leaving.”

[fizzychocolatemilk]

BakuFam Headcanons

Inspired by some cute bakufam art (it was just masaru and katsuki...but still...it was cute) that I saw recently. It was queued within the last few days so maybe y’all saw it when it reblogged...anyway I needed fluff with the Bakugous so y’all get an hc list.

- Katsuki learned to care more about quirk control because of Masaru. When he first got his quirk his mindset was ‘This is so freaking awesome!’ and he didn’t give much heed to the fact that he got flammable substances everywhere when he touched stuff with sweaty hands...meaning that there were many direct and indirect cases of destruction. After part of the kitchen caught fire because of some stray nitroglycerin, Masaru sat Katsuki down and told him about how it was when he had to learn to control his own quirk. At the end of the talk, Masaru gave Katsuki one of his handkerchiefs and tells him that it’s to wipe the sweat off when it becomes too much. Masaru himself uses them for the same purpose, and after the discussion Katsuki always pulls out his handkerchief whenever Masaru does.

- On a similar vein, Mitsuki has TONS of pictures of baby Katsuki imitating Masaru.

- Baby Katsuki was very sad when he found out he didn’t need glasses because he wanted to be just like Masaru, but he grows to need them occassionally as he reaches his older teens and wears them with pride. 

- Katsuki actually thinks his parents’ relationship is cute. He’s annoyed and grossed out by it like any teenager, but whenever he walks into the living room to find his parents curled up together and watching a movie or finds them cooking together so seamlessly it’s like a dance....he can’t help but find it incredibly sweet and think that quiet moments like that are what he wants out of his own future relationship.

- Katsuki is a momma’s boy. He and Mitsuki will complain and complain about each other...but Katsuki will also tell her almost anything. They have dedicated mother-son outings every so often. (One time the bakusquad asked Katsuki to go out with them one weekend and he replied with “Can’t. I have plans with my ma.” He sounded so proud and genuine that they couldn’t even tease him about it.) 

- Mitsuki gets the best mother’s day presents and birthday gifts because she has a loving husband and a perfectionist son. Sometimes Katsuki and Masaru team up on gifts, sometimes they each get their own, sometimes they do both. Overarching theme is that all of the gifts are thoughtful and amazing, Mitsuki is super lucky and loves her boys, and all the annoying neighbor ladies are very jealous.

- Mitsuki and Masaru are the first people Katsuki actively TOLD about his feelings for Izuku (bakusquad found out on their own and interrogated). Mitsuki got her teasing in before telling him that he better get Inko’s permission before he went wooing her son...then she and Katsuki got into a petty argument about how stupidly traditionalist that was which Masaru had to break up. Masaru just tells Katsuki to take pride in his feelings, and promises himself that if Izuku ends up hurting Katsuki...then he will be hurting Izuku. Mitsuki reads Masaru’s thoughts like a book and teases him later...before telling him that she’ll help hide the body. Katsuki accidentally overhears that conversation and rolls his eyes...he knows that stupid Deku would rather hurt himself over his precious ‘Kacchan’ anyday...dating or not. Katsuki gets Inko’s approval before asking Izuku out.

- When Katsuki brings Izuku home for the first time, his mother was estatic, but he saw a side of his father that he never saw before. Bakugou Masaru did not hesitate to instill the fear of god into Izuku with false smiles and thinly veiled threats. Izuku was very nice about it because he uber protective of Katsuki and appreciated that Katsuki’s parents are too. Katsuki was just flabbergasted and sort of embarrassed that Izuku seemed over the moon to be threatened by his father.

[soul-controller]

Watching From The Sidelines

This story was inspired by a conversation I had with my great friend @mrcavanaughtf​.

For Trent Taylor and his wife Sarah, their recent nuptials in the previous year had led the seemingly perfect couple to shift into an incredibly rocky relationship. While the pandemic had allowed Trent and Sarah to spend more time together than ever before, it was a bit ironic that their problems emerged once the world started to seemingly go back to normal. In fact, it was their post-wedding photoshoot that was actually the last time that either of them could recall being truly happy with each other’s company.

While they certainly still had intense love and admiration for each other, the concept of life going back to normal after the pandemic had brought back a lot of stress for both individuals. Not only was Trent a wide receiver recently transferred to the Cincinnati Bengals, but Sarah had also earned a master’s degree to specialize in sports psychology. So, it wasn’t all that surprising that the couple weren’t always in the mood to get intimate with each other after such exhausting days.

As a result of these two intense careers, the couple often found themselves getting into fights over texts about who would do chores and cook dinner. Although Sarah was certainly willing and able to cook dinner and do the chores, she didn’t find it fair at all that Trent was able to get off scot-free from doing any house-related duties. The main factor of this was Trent’s upbringing, especially since it informed his way of thinking so severely. Despite being raised in a decent-sized city, the new husband’s deep Tennessee roots had been firmly ingrained into his adult life even after making the move to San Francisco and now Cincinnati.

Although there were some values that were great such as Trent’s chivalrous acts such as holding open doors, pulling her chair out at dinner, and even giving the jacket off of his back as they took a nighttime stroll, there were many that were quite annoying to the woman. While Sarah had known slightly about her husband’s reliance on gender roles as being a man of God, ever since she went back to work it had reached an all-time high in terms of being enforced on her. Trent was always annoyed by the fact that his wife was “too busy” or working late at work to the point where he would arrive home to an empty house with no chores done and no warm meal waiting for him.

As the primary breadwinner as a player for the NFL, Trent’s upbringing had taught him that these rules were widely acceptable, so he always found it quite irritating when his wife was quick to argue with him about it. Chalking it up to Sarah going to some “woke” feminist liberal arts college, Trent was relentless towards reinforcing those gender dynamics and trying to shape Sarah into the perfect housewife. Much of these gender dynamics involved the couple keeping up appearances at any social event as they plastered fake smiles on their faces and pretended to love and adore each other with every fibre of their being.

While she had attempted to put up a brave face during their arguments both at home and on the car ride back from those events, each consecutive meltdown had pushed Sarah closer to ending the marriage quickly and trying to find someone who wasn’t secretly hiding what a backwards-thinking man they truly were. As a result of her situation, Sarah found great solace in her weekly Friday night chats at some shady bars with a few friends. Given the fact that she was now the wife of a fairly well-known NFL player, the group had to do their best to adapt to her new lifestyle by keeping a low profile just to avoid any overbearing fans or paparazzi eager to get photos of her for the next day’s gossip blogs. Of course, despite Sarah’s precautions to prevent any bad press being spread about Trent, her husband still wasn’t the biggest fan of these late-night meetings. He was a naturally suspicious person, even more so as she would make dinner for Trent and leave before even eating any of her own meal. Plus, her clique consisted of a few women and a few gay men that she had befriended in college, which only further angered Trent. He was a Bible-loving man, so he couldn’t believe his wife would willingly associate with people who “chose” that type of anti-Christian lifestyle.

Despite Trent’s long list of issues with these meetings, Sarah persisted in going to them if not solely for the fact that it allowed her to fully rant about her marital issues with people she trusted. While the girls and guys were all in awe as she gave them the full scope of Trent’s personality, they were especially attentive to the backwards gender roles he was eager to enforce on the couple. “What the fuck, does he not realize it’s 2020 and not 1920?” one friend said, slamming her drink down on the table and allowing some of the liquid to slosh out of the glass and onto the table.

Given her friends’ clear annoyance about Trent’s behavior and under the influence of copious amounts of alcohol, Sarah soon found herself slurring her words as she complained aloud about Trent. “Every day, he expects me to work my ass off while he just gets to sit there and relax…” she growled, her angry rant being interrupted many times through the stumbling and slurring of her words. Nevertheless, she continued to complain about her husband, hoping to reach some form of catharsis. “You know, I just wish that he would for once have to see what it’s like to have all of those expectations put on him instead!” she continued, her voice oozing anger and disgust while her breath exuded whiskey.

With their drinking making the group carefree and eager to agree with anything, all of Sarah’s friends immediately nodded their heads and recited the same sentiment about wishing for Trent to experience all of Sarah’s expectations. Even without the influence of alcohol, the friends all adored her and wished the best for her, so it wasn’t a shock for them to say the phrases with intense conviction. With Sarah now on her friends’ side in terms of Trent, the friends had allowed the already-crumbling walls of their reservations to finally fall away as they now openly expressed any problem they had with the football star. While it was a sweet moment to have such a heart-to-heart with all of her friends, Sarah had no way of knowing that the repetition of the wish over 5 times had actually activated her emotional plea.

For the next few hours, the group of friends’ continued to drink themselves into a drunken stupor that eventually left their wallets empty of cash. Not wanting to dip into their savings for a simple night out, the group of friends eventually began to part ways, stumbling out of the bar and into their corresponding Lyfts. Once she was home and had made sure that the rest of her friends had made it back to their residences, Sarah soon made her way into the bedroom and slipped into a black silk negligee. With great relief she discovered that her husband was snoring away, safely tucked away in a deep slumber. Given her alcohol-enhanced state, she wasn’t in the mood to fight and argue with her husband. As such, Sarah was free to climb under the covers and slip into her own peaceful sleep without issue, the exhaustion of her night out finally catching up to her.

* * * * *

Trent wasn’t just having one of the best nights of sleep in recent memory, he was also enjoying a dream where his impressive feats on the football field had led the Cincinnati Bengals all the way to the Super Bowl. Unfortunately, it was a good mood that he feared wouldn’t last into the waking hours. Although he loved his wife and liked sleeping next to a warm body, the fights and arguments the couple often had caused Trent to feel a lot of resentment. He didn’t ask for much, he just wanted a wife willing to do chores and cook him dinner. But even though he asked for so little, his wife had felt that it was a large ask of her to do so. Instead of peaceful nights of fucking senselessly and falling into a deep slumber after wearing themselves out, the couple soon found themselves silent in bed as they scrolled through their phones and tried to remain as distant as possible. So given the fact that she had spent the entire night out, Trent was actually happy to have the place by himself (despite the fact that he absolutely loathed the people she associated with).

But just as the wide receiver was about to score the game-winning touchdown for the Bengals, Trent soon found himself pulled out of the dream as he felt a sudden pain against his left cheek. Jolting his eyes open in shock, he could clearly tell now that he had seemingly been slapped by the figure standing in front of him. As he tried to focus his vision on the subject and wipe the sleep out of his eyes, his eyes grew wide at the sight before him. Standing before him was a 5’8” hunk of a man: it was his own shirtless body! Not only was it his own physique looking down at him, but Trent could tell that the current occupant was visibly pissed off based on their body language of having their arms crossed right below his hairy pectorals and the clear look of disdain showcased on his face.

“What the fuck!” Trent cried out, his mind in such complete disbelief that he didn’t even notice the lighter feminine voice coming out of his mouth. He couldn’t believe it, but no matter how much he rubbed his eyes, the vision remained the same.

“Get the fuck up babe, you’ve got work to do!” his doppelganger demanded, chuckling as he continued to give off an intimidating look.

Turning to the side, Trent was stunned to find that his wife was nowhere to be seen. As he flipped his head to the side, the man soon found his vision obscured with a cascade of blonde hair falling in front of his face. With the pieces beginning to fall into place in his mind, Trent looked down and screamed in a tone that could rival a final girl in a horror flick. Instead of his exposed hairy shirtless body, his vision was met with the sight of a black flowing fabric running across his body. But as he stared at a small yet noticeable pair of breasts bulging against the fabric, it fully confirmed the impossible in Trent’s head. “Sarah, is that you?” he said, finally noticing the tone of his wife’s voice now coming out of his mouth.

A thundering chuckle burst out of his doppelganger’s lips. “Yes, it’s me. Now get up and get ready to finally do some of the work you keep telling me is the wife’s job,” Sarah growled, turning to the side and pulling out a broom and dustpan that she then held out to her husband. As Trent awkwardly turned to the side of the bed and got onto his feet, he felt incredibly disoriented by the weird sensations that he now felt. He felt smaller - weaker - and that both terrified him and pissed him off.

With this rage quickly building inside him, Trent wasted no time getting closer to his wife in an attempt to intimidate her. “Sarah, I don’t know how you fucking did this, but give me my goddamn body back now,” he cried out, his voice displaying a highly emotional mix of despair and anger. While he had tried his best to intimidate his wife and get her to follow his rules, the booming laugh escaping from her mouth proved that it only had the opposite effect.

“Aw, poor little Trent not getting what he wants, what a shame…” she teased, chuckling as she soon began to walk around her husband like a shark circling its prey. “You think I ever got my way in this marriage?” she inquired, which caused Trent’s usual tantrum of pursing his lips and crossing his arms to now make him appear like an entitled woman having a tantrum. “I think it’s time that you’re taught a lesson in respect and understanding, and I’m eager to give it to you. Maybe a few days in my body will be just what you need to lighten up and stop being such a prick!”

“Fuck no, I want my body back now you crazy bitch! I’m the man of this house and I deserve some GODDAMN respect!” he cried out, his voice furthering the impression of an entitled woman having a meltdown.

“But babe, you’re not a man anymore… I am Trent Taylor now. You’re just Sarah, my stubborn wife unwilling to do your role in this marriage,” Sarah stated, the cockiness quickly manifesting on her new lips as they curled into a devilish grin accessorized with an impressive mustache. “But don’t you worry babe, unlike you, I’m actually going to get my way this time. If you ever want your body back, you’re going to become the perfect little housewife. So, how about you get started and clean up this pigsty of a house!” she concluded, her face now beaming in the same cockiness and entitlement that Trent used to display. Approaching her husband, Sarah quickly dropped the broom into Trent’s dainty hands and sent him on his way to start cleaning.

Even though Trent was disgusted by being a woman, the concept of never earning his body back was a risk he was unwilling to take. He’d go along with his wife’s little plan to earn back her trust, but he certainly wouldn’t accept or enjoy any aspect of his new situation. As soon as he was back in his rightful body, divorce papers would be filed and he would be away from this psycho body stealer.

As he began to sweep the bedroom, he couldn’t help but spare a number of glances over to where his wife stood, with burly arms folded across that powerful chest and eyes narrowed as she monitored him like a drill sergeant. It was all so demeaning! Plus, to make matters worse, he was forced to deal with his wife’s constant taunts via snide comments about his performance and whistling due to the way his new supple feminine ass was shown off any time he bent down no matter the angle. There were so many emotions contained within his body that he was eager to express, but for his own pride and attempts to seem like a strong tough man, he proceeded through the sweeping until it was up to snuff according to his asshole of a wife.

With Trent working around the bedroom still, Sarah was clearly eager to explain how their bodies had swapped and what it would have to take to get his own back. “Given that you wanted to put all of your sexist demands on my shoulders, I figured you should get a chance to see what it’s like for yourself,” the newly gender-swapped Sarah said. It was strange as hell for Trent to hear his own voice gleefully tell him how it happened, which only furthered his discomfort and fear towards the situation. “So my dear, you’re going to become the perfect trophy wife. You’re going to conform to all of the rules I assign and do every task I tell you to do, and if you either fail to do a good job or actively try to resist, I’ll make sure you’re stuck in that body a little bit longer…” Sarah said, her voice drawing out the last part of her sentence just to cause Trent to grow more and more anxious about the situation at hand.

Of course, Trent desperately agreed to Sarah’s deal, but he was in no means happy about the situation. The thought of having his body and masculinity held hostage by his wife was already a nightmare, but having to become a submissive wife too? This was Trent Taylor’s personal hell and Sarah knew that. Upon agreeing to the terms and shaking hands, Trent was shocked by both the strength of his former hands and the daintiness of his new ones. But before he could think about the concept much further, Sarah quickly ushered him back into work as she followed him around the house.

After making sure that he did a decent job in a few more rooms, Trent was shocked to find that his wife quickly disappeared into the bedroom and locked the door. Although he desperately wanted to snoop and see what she was doing, he figured that getting caught snooping so soon would only worsen his situation. He had no idea how she had made this happen, but the thought that she did it and loved every second of it made her absolutely terrifying in his eyes. What else could she be capable of?

Before too long, Trent had moved along to the next item of his list assigned by Sarah: mopping the floor of the kitchen. Upon filling up a tub of water that he thought was a close enough mix of soap to water, he struggled to carry the weight given his smaller build. It was a shame to lose all of his muscles, but especially shameful when he could barely carry a bucket of water that he could have done easily in his old body. Dipping the mop into the solution and wringing it out slightly, he began to mop the floor to the best of his ability.

Hearing the door of their bedroom open, Trent ducked his head down the hallway to watch his wife walking down the hall. But instead of seeing his body in only the pair of shorts he had fallen asleep in, Trent Taylor’s body was decked out in an old windbreaker and pair of sweatpants from his days of playing for the 49ers, with a duffle bag slung over his shoulder.

“Wha- Where are you going?” Trent said, his voice showcasing his nervousness. Entering the living room, Sarah quickly dropped the bag down onto the floor with a thunderous thud while eerily glaring at her former body.

“I’m going to practice, Bengals always have practice on Saturday morning…” she said with an annoyed tone. “You would think that you would remember this since you’ve been playing football for years now…” she continued, rolling her eyes as Trent continued to stare in disbelief.

“No, you can’t go. You’ll embarrass me in front of everyone!” he gasped, the thought of his wife fumbling every possible catch and ruining every drill rapidly running in his head.

“I’ll be fine. Get back to work or I’ll extend my stay in your body,” she warned, which caused Trent to quickly rush back to the kitchen and start mopping. Seeing her husband mop the floor wasn’t enough, she wanted to make it worse on him. “No, that’s not going to do. That’s way too simple for someone as cocky as you,” she said as she made her way over the sink and opened the cupboard underneath. After rummaging around for a moment, she quickly grabbed an item and slammed the doors shut.

Walking back over to Trent, she had him reach out his hand and she quickly dropped the item into his hand. “Get on your hands and knees and wash the floor with that!” she chuckled, returning to pick up her bag and turning back to face the man. “C’mon, get to work… or else,” she warned, which caused Trent to swallow his pride and just comply.

As he groaned and got onto his knees, Trent began to dip the sponge offered to him into the water and started scrubbing the floor with it. Hearing the laughter behind him as his wife stared at her own body washing the floor was an easy way to infuriate the man. He wanted to scream, he wanted to cry, and he definitely wanted to throw things around. But his mental rule of always appearing to be a perfect man forced him to conceal those feelings… at least until he was alone.

After a few minutes of watching her husband do simple yet embarrassing tasks, Sarah checked the clock and realized she had to go. “Ok, well, get everything done on the list and prepare dinner for when I’m home from practice. Otherwise, you’ll have plenty more time to get used to being my wife,” she stated with her hands on her hips, giving a cocky grin to her husband before exiting and going to live the life of Trent Taylor.

With his wife now out of the door, Trent allowed those feelings to flood his body and find release in any way possible. Through clenched fists and gritted teeth, the man began to wail and express his sadness in the situation. It wasn’t fair that he would be punished for being a husband just wanting a traditional wife. Traditions were there for a reason, it was beneficial to society! But apparently, his wife hadn’t agreed and found a way to teach him an extreme lesson about her hatred of his perspective. While he had gotten the message loud and clear upon staring down at his new tits and from doing a simple task of sweeping a dirty floor, he knew that this wouldn’t be enough for his bitter wife.

For the next few hours, Trent did his assigned chores around the house until all that was left was to clean their master bathroom. Upon entering the room and flicking on the light, Trent was both aroused and disgusted by the reflection he saw. Given the fact that he was now in his wife’s body, he was still turned on but incredibly annoyed by the fact that he was the one now operating it. He missed his scruffy facial hair, buff chest, and swollen biceps, especially since it was replaced with a set of tits, a hairless form, and two small frail arms with freshly manicured hands. While staring in the mirror, Trent slowly slipped himself out of the outfit and stared at the naked body he had spent many years admiring while fucking it. Looking down and seeing a crotch devoid of his thick cock was a nightmare, but he couldn’t deny the slight tingle of pleasure that ran through his body as his fingers grazed the outer edges of his new vagina. Fuck, this is going to become a problem isn’t it, he thought as he couldn’t help but run his fingers around the edges once more.

While the thought of having a vagina initially grossed Trent out to extreme levels, he couldn’t resist wanting to test out a woman’s orgasm. If anything, he had hoped that it could possibly help him become a better lover once they swapped back since he would get first-hand experience in learning what a female body likes. But as he remembered the rules of this swap, he stopped himself from rummaging around his wife’s drawer of sex toys. Getting back to business, Trent returned to cleaning up the messy toilet stained from his early morning trips to the bathroom where he often missed the stool entirely while in his dazed state. He felt absolutely humiliated as he got down on his hands and knees to scrub every inch of the toilet bowl, which only angered him further as he realized that this was just what his wife was wanting...

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[the-witty-pen-name]

The Nanny Pt. 1

Lee Bodecker x Nanny!F!Reader

18+ 

Word Count: 3k

Warnings: mentions of alcohol, implied age gap (reader is in her 20s), cursing, Sandy and Carl being bad parents, 18+ content in later chapters 

Summary:

Based on this Request: The reader moves to Meade/Knockemstiff while answering an advertisement for a nanny in the paper. We learn that the ad was posted by Sandy, who has the reader watch her child whenever she and Carl leave to do their secret thing. After one of these trips, Sandy and her husband never return, so the reader is left caring for their baby. With the new investigation into these events, she meets Sandy’s brother Lee, the older, out of shape, alcoholic bachelor, and they are suddenly thrown into each others lives as he begins looking into his sister’s disappearance. Through it all, Lee starts to fall for her, and they slowly become a family.

A/N: Here is the first part of my newest series and I want to thank the anon who reached out to me with this idea! 

If I missed anything I should include as a warning that I missed please let me know!

Taglist Form is in my bio and should be updated to now to include this fic! (If for some reason it isn’t working send me a message and I’ll make sure you’re added!!)

“Damn it, Sandy, can’t you handle that?” Carl yells from his dark room as the baby starts crying again.

“Fuck you, Carl,” Sandy shouts back, hurrying to put out her cigarette before heading to the nursery.

Their little girl was just about a year old, and neither one of them knew what they were doing. Carl was incredibly indifferent and despite her honest attempts at motherhood, Sandy’s maternal instincts never kicked in like she thought it would happen. Carl was annoyed that it cut into their time they would be on trips. They weren’t able to photograph models with the baby on the road, so he’d been itching to get back on the road.

“Is she hungry?” he shouts back, not even bothering to take his eyes off of the most recent photographs he had been developing.

“I just fed her!”

“Then why is she crying?”

“Fuck if I know,” Sandy shouts back exasperated. She scooped up the baby from her crib and started to rock her back and forth in her arms. Sandy also tried burping her, humming a little lullaby she made up on the fly… no luck. She walks around the house with the baby on her hip, trying to rock her back to sleep.

“We haven’t able to get back on the road in a year,” Carl says, clearly frustrated.

“That ain’t purely my fault,” she spits back, “Takes two to make a baby, Carl.”

“Fuck I know,” he groans, “But I need new inspiration. If I take one more picture of nature…”

“If she’s such a hindrance, pay for a damn sitter like I suggested months ago,” she counters.

“We can’t have no stranger walking around the house Sandy,” he points out.

“Just keep your damn room locked, it’s not a huge deal,” Sandy sighs. “Besides, no one is gonna snoop around if you pay ‘em enough. You damn well produce your own incriminating evidence; you should always have that room locked anyways.”

“We only have to worry about your damn brother,” Carl points out, “We hire a fucking sitter that’s two people we need to worry about.”

“You’re just to goddamn cheap to hire somebody,” Sandy states, moving back towards the nursery, the baby now snoring softly.

“You know what? Fine,” Carl says defeated. “But you’re in charge of putting the ad out and hiring somebody.”

“Thank you,” she says in a sing song tone, happy she got her way. But the moment of quiet that follows is short lived as they baby starts crying again.

“Please for the love of God can you just take care of that?” Carl yells, and the argument circles back to the beginning.

You had sat in the small dinner in the corner booth hunched over the newspaper and nursing your now cold cup of coffee. You had just arrived in Knockemstiff and were looking for work. “Any leads?” Julie asked as she topped off your coffee. Julie was your roommate. You had found her the same way you were currently looking for a job. You must have answered at least ten terrible Roommate Wanted ads until you had found Julie. The two of you now share an apartment- the top floor of a three-family owned by a sweet older couple.

“Thank you,” you say without looking up from scanning the ads. “Maybe this one?” You say pointing to one of the ads. She looks to see her manager stepped out for his smoke break before sliding in the booth across from you. You slide the paper over to her and she reads the ad out loud.

NANNY NEEDED Knockemstiff, Ohio

Couple that travels for work in need of a nanny for one-year-old daughter.

Temporary live-in position for several weeks at a time. Pay negotiable.

Call Sandy Henderson at the below number.

“I can sublet the room temporarily while you stay there,” Julie offers. “It’s a pretty vague offer,” she continues. “I wouldn’t commit until you call and speak to that Sandy woman.”

“Oh, I’m sure I’ll need to be interviewed,” you agree. “What kind of people are comfortable just leaving their baby for weeks at a time with a perfect stranger?”

“Paul is still out back I think,” she chuckles, “I’ll let you use the wall phone.”

You take a seat at one of the stools at the counter, and she dials the number for you and then passes you the receiver. You mouth a thank you and she waves her hand in dismissal as she heads over to take someone’s order.

“Whaddya want?” the woman on the other end answers abruptly.

“Oh, I’m calling about the ad in the paper regarding the nanny position. Is it still available?”

“Oh, shit. I’m so sorry, hun,” the woman says, now in a much nicer tone. “Thought it was my brother calling. Yes, it is, and we need it filled as soon as possible. When are you available?”

“For an interview?” You ask.

“Yeah,” she says mumbled, like she is dangling a cigarette from her mouth. “Can you come today?”

“Oh, wow. Yes, I can,” you reply.

“Great, um, you got a pen? Take down this address.”

About two hours, a change of clothes and a cab ride later, you were standing outside a house towards the end of town. It was a little run down, but what building in this town wasn’t? You were a little nervous of course, but it was also the most unconventional way you have gotten an interview. Part of you was relieved, because the woman on the phone sounded real, not phony, but the circumstances still made you uneasy. Julie had the address and said you’d call when you got back to the taxi dispatch.

“Welcome, welcome,” Sandy smiled, opening up the door for you. She had one hand on the doorknob and one of the cutest babies you’d ever seen in the other. “Come on in, make yourself comfortable.”

“Who is this?” you coo, leaning down to the baby’s eye level. “She’s darling.”

“This little sweetheart is Valerie,” Sandy smiles, passing the baby to you. “She’s so well-behaved. Hardly ever cries.”

“She’s adorable,” you smile, as the baby cuddles up close, resting her head on your shoulder. “I didn’t properly introduce myself on the phone. (Y/N) (Y/L/N).”

“I’m Sandy,” she introduces herself. “Please take a seat on the couch, get comfortable. I hate things that are so formal. Bleh.”

You take a seat on the couch, and readjust the little girl in your arms so she’s sitting on your lap and her back is resting against you so she is supported.

“So, my husband and I are on the road a lot, usually,” she begins, “We took some time off when we had Valerie, but we really need to start working again, you understand.”

“Of course, what do you both do?” you ask politely.

“We’re photographers,” she beams, “Mostly nature and landmarks- which reminds me! We have a darkroom in the house, but that door will be locked when you’re staying here. We don’t want any damage to any of the negatives we have stored in there you understand. Everywhere else in the house is yours to explore! And of course we gotta spare bedroom you can call your own.”

“Fair enough,” you joke.

“So, tell me about yourself, honey,” she smiles, crossing her legs in the armchair where she sat.

“Well, I just moved here a few weeks ago actually,” you begin, “I just recently finished school, and now I’m looking for work. I just got my degree in early childcare from the state college.”

“Oh, that’s wonderful,” she says with a clap of her hands. “So, you’re local?”

“Yes, I live in town.”

“Excellent! We’d also love for this to be like an on-call thing as well, you know for date nights and things like that for times when we’re home. Like for a few hours here and there. And of course, we’ll always live money for groceries or whatever you need on top of your pay for emergencies incase Valerie needs formula or diapers or anything.”

“Perfect,” you smile, surprised how well the conversation was going. Sandy was easy-going and nice to talk to. The two of you sat and talked for a little under an hour, her asking all the standard questions you anticipated. You also were able to ask her some more of your own questions as well. It was the most effortless interview you had been on easily.

“I’m sorry you weren’t able to meet Carl today,” she says when she is showing you out. “But hun, I feel confident to offer you the job. We haven’t had many applicants and you’re the most qualified one I’ve spoken to. The job is yours if you want it?”

“When can I start?” you smile, making her laugh.

“Your number is on the resume, right?” she says, scooping up the baby. You nod, waving goodbye to the baby and then saying goodbye to Sandy.

“I’ll call you when I speak to Carl, but I think once he knows he’ll want to head out as soon as we can. Plan for Sunday,” she says as you get into the cab.

Just like she had promised, you get a call from Sandy on Saturday afternoon asking you to show up the next morning at 9. You spend the day packing up your clothes and anything else you’d need for a few weeks. Sandy said they’d be back in two weeks but you pack for three just in case. Julie was also nice enough to help you. You didn’t need to do much. Ever since you had settled in Knockemstiff, you had been pretty lazy with unpacking and for once procrastination played out in your favor.

Julie insisted on taking you out to celebrate that night before starting your job tomorrow. There was a small little bar, a little shack of a place just on the outside of town you went to. Julie had a car and you drove, anticipating she’d have a lot more to drink than you. It was a hotter summer night, so you drove with the windows down and the radio playing a little louder than you normally would.

The outside was decorated with string lights of primary colors and the wooden awning looked like it was one more storm away from collapsing. But the atmosphere inside was to die for. The jukebox was playing loud dance music, and the place was crowded. Empty recycled glasses lined the walls on a high shelf as decoration along with weathered posters of anything Americana. A row of motorcycles and trucks were parked outside the little place and it looked like a pileup from how crowded the lot was. People lingered outside as well, and you both hoped you’d find seats inside.

The two of you found a high-top table and Julie made her way up to the bar, skillfully maneuvering through the crowd to grab you both some drinks. You let your eyes wandering, surveying the room and just people watching. Couples were dancing closely to the music that was rattling the jukebox, and a group of people were sitting at the bar huddles in to watch the little black and white portable television. You also noticed a group of men in uniform several tables down, local police. They weren’t paying any attention to anyone but their own conversation, except one.

He just so happened to have looked up just as your eyes landed on their table. Steel blue eyes cutting across everything and just staring right back into yours. It was a fraction of a second and his gaze was broken by Julie taking her seat across from you. You cleared your throat, and finally allowed yourself to exhale. You felt her raise an eyebrow at you but she didn’t press, just gave you a knowing smirk you brushed off. You still felt his gaze on you even if your view was now obstructed.

Sandy and Carl were in a rush when you arrived in the morning. Sandy ran you through the details of where everything was kept and told you that she would call to check in when she could when they made stopped. She helped you carry your bags in from the trunk of the taxi while Carl packed their bags in their car. He was polite enough, but you felt in your gut to just keep your distance. Sandy led you upstairs to the guest room she told you she worked to clean out for you. It was simple, a bed and a dresser with a small closet. She said it mostly had been storage and her weekend project had been clearing it out for you. It was simple, but good enough for you for sure. You thanked her and she dismissed it saying you were the one doing her a favor, making you laugh.

The whole ordeal was very hurried. Carl was rushing to get on the road as soon as possible and you could tell he was clearly irritated at how long Sandy was taking showing you around and explaining things about Valerie. Carrying the baby in your arms, you finally were settled in to your new role and Sandy gave one more big hug and a kiss on Valerie’s head before rushing down to the car. You waved to the pair of them from the small front porch, Sandy looking back and waving to the baby from the passenger seat until they were out of your line of vision.

The first day was a little daunting. New space, living in a house that isn’t yours and a baby babbling in your arms. She was a sweet thing, and she already had taken a liking to you. Heading over to her nursery, you saw that she had a little play pen folded up in the corner of the nursery and you quickly set it up in your room so you could unpack while keeping an eye on her. She babbled just happy utter nonsense to you while you navigated around the space and her big eyes just followed you, just watching you was entertaining for her for now. You were a new face and she was entertained just by that for now.

A few hours later, Valerie had settled down for a nap in the early afternoon. She was sleeping soundly in her crib and you were getting formula ready for when she woke up. It was quiet, the only noise in the house was the small sounds of your own rustling in the kitchen. You wondered when you would hear from Sandy, if it would be later tonight or in a couple of days. You just were lost in your own thoughts when you were startled by a loud knocking on the door. Instantly, Valerie began to cry. You wiped your hands quickly on the skirt of your dress before grabbing her. You rested her on your hip and rocked her gently, shushing her to calm down while you went to grab the door.

The first thing your eyes saw were the same blue eyes who was looking at you at the bar last night. The man’s eyebrows furrowed and he looked really confused. He had one hand rested on his hip and the other against the doorframe, but he stood up straight when he saw it wasn’t who he expected. Your eyes then went down to the shiny Sheriff’s Badge fixed in place on his uniform.

“Who are you?” he asks abruptly. “Where’s Sandy?”

“Sandy and Carl left this morning,” you explain, not sure if he recognizes you. “I’m their nanny.”

He laughs and shakes his head as he looks down, almost like he doesn’t believe you, or he just doesn’t believe the situation. “Carl? Carl Henderson hired a nanny?” he scoffs and you nod, holding Valerie a little closer. The little girl rubs her eyes and yawns, when her eyes flutter open, she looks at the stranger in the doorway and immediately reaches out to signal she wants to be held by him. You ignore her resistance to wanting to be in your arms until you get more information about why the Sheriff is at their doorstep, though she obviously knows him.

“I’m Sandy’s brother,” he explains, “Did she say when they were coming back?” He doesn’t try to hold the baby yet, just holds out one of his fingers and her little hand holds onto it tightly.

“Two weeks.”

“They hire a complete stranger to watch my niece and live in their house unsupervised while they drive around?” he scoffs, shaking his head again in disbelief.

“I’m more than qualified…”

“It’s not a jab at you, sweetheart,” the man tries to explain, “More so a reflection on my sister and her husband is all. They are… fairly selfish people and I wished this situation surprises me more than it does.”

“Should I tell her you came by when she calls?” you ask.

“If she calls,” the man chuckles, “Sure, let her know Lee stopped by to visit.”

“You don’t think she will?” you ask, tilting your head.

“We’ll see,” Lee shrugs, “Do I know you from somewhere?” He rests his arm back up on the doorframe and looks down to the baby again, extending out his free hand to her again and scrunching her cheeks.

“I don’t know,” you shrug, not wanting to admit you remembered seeing him last night. He purses his lips together and nods, not pressing further. He pushes off from the doorframe and puts his hands into the pockets of his leather jacket.

“Must’ve been in a dream then,” he smirks, and you feel your cheeks flush. He walks down the steps and back towards his cop car. “What did you say your name was?” he asks, turning back around.

“I didn’t,” you chuckle.

“Hmm,” he nods, and raises his eyebrows, waiting for you to fill in the blank. You tell him your name and he repeats it back to you like he’s thinking about it, trying it out to see how it sounds.

“Well,” he says, standing behind the open driver’s door, “Good luck, and I hope Sandy proves me wrong. Let me know if she calls.”

Taglist: 

@adelaide-walker @thedepressolit @samanthadegaro​ 

[glowingbadger]

Hi it’s me, crawling through the window. Would it be possible to get a crumb of arranged marriage w/ Hubert? His line w/ Dorothea about being willing to get married for politics sake has fueled my brain rot for him.

Good God I need to secure my windows-

I mean HELLO FRIEND ANON YES IT WOULD BE MY PLEASURE

Lol actually though, I have been thinking about this for Hubie since we all started chatting about that arranged marriage stuff! I think it's a perfect concept for him~

This like... got weird while I was writing it though?? Idk man hahaha it ended up on the less-spicy side of what I usually write, and with some very weird dialogue in places... Idk, I hope y'all like it. Maybe if there's interest, I'll follow this up eventually with a more smut-focused piece?

I've been traveling and working so much lately that I just don't even know what writing is anymore or how it works hahaha

TW: A brief mention of non-con

Hubert (FE3H) x Reader ("wife," neutral pronouns)

Arranged Marriage - semi spicy i guess?

"Frankly, he's a pain," Linhardt must be able to see your surprise and confusion written across your face. He goes on, "He's reliable and capable, of course, but also the most persistent nag you'll ever meet. Actually, no-" he glances upward as though to cross reference his own thoughts, "No, her Majesty is worse. But Hubert is a close second to be sure. Always on and on about sleep schedules and proper nutrition and etiquette..." He sighs and closes the massive tome on his lap, as though to close the conversation with it, "frankly, he's an insufferable mother hen. Does that help?"

"Well, it's... Not what I expected," you admit with a shrug, "but thank you all the same."

~

It's been several weeks since the papers binding you in marriage to Hubert Von Vestra had been signed- and this alone had sufficed. No ceremony, no grand ball, just paperwork and a handshake with your father. A handshake that ensured that, even under the Empire's unification, he would maintain nominal control over his considerable portion of land, and in return, would swear absolute loyalty to her Majesty. It was a beneficial arrangement for all parties, and you were not ignorant to the part you played. You were hardly even a bargaining chip- moreso, a hostage.

Your new husband had made no secret of what manner of harm may befall you if your family were to renege on their deal. Fortunately, you know your father to be a reliable coward, so you have no reason to believe he would be bold enough to step out of line.

Hubert Von Vestra is a terrifying man. A zealously loyal man of storied cruelty and a frigid disposition. His frame looms over you whenever he's near, and though he's hardly placed a finger on you since you'd been given over to him, his mere presence is... arresting. There's a sort of charisma to him that's equal parts frightening and fascinating. Perhaps it's madness brought on by your circumstances, but you can't help wanting to glimpse just the slightest bit into that brilliant, ever churning mind.

Unsurprisingly, he has been resistant to your attempts to understand him. He hardly indulges you in small talk, and if you were the paranoid sort, you'd think he intentionally makes himself busy when you're around. Eventually, perhaps out of sheer stubbornness, you'd settled on a routine of bringing coffee to his study adjoined to your bedroom in the evenings. He'd been visibly surprised the first time. It wasn't until the fourth night that he'd given a curt "thank you." About two weeks in, he'd actually sat back in his chair and laid down his quill pen to receive the cup from your hands. After a month, he'd leveled his narrow gaze at you and said,

"I cannot begin to fathom what satisfaction you glean from playing 'maid' to me."

"Well, I, uhm," you hadn't expected him to address you so directly, but you managed to say, "You... work so hard, I wanted to do something for you, I suppose."

His expression is inscrutable as he replies,

"You are aware that my work was much the same before you arrived."

"I am," you say softly, "But- all the same..." you trail off, and Hubert seems content to let the matter rest. And so you leave him be amidst his reports and correspondence, coffee at his side on the desk. Yet for as unproductive as your exchange might have seemed, it does leave you with an idea. The thought to learn about the man from those who knew him long before your arrival at the capitol.

~

Your investigation into the true character of your husband does not stop with Linhardt. In fact, his testimony only leaves you with further questions. But perhaps the others would say otherwise; perhaps the United Empire's most up and coming crest scholar simply inspires maternal behavior. This has to be the case- you simply can't imagine that the notoriously ruthless heir of the even more notorious Vestra lineage would be so... Doting.

And yet the more you learn of him, the more contradictory he seems.

Caspar's take is much like Linhardt's- a picture of a man far closer to a school marm than any assassin or master of torture. Ferdinand seems both smitten and incensed by him, oscillating wildly between the two. Then eventually, to your shock, Bernadetta takes the initiative to speak to you about Hubert of her own accord.

"I'm, uh, really so-sorry to bother you!" she approaches with arms drawn close to her chest and eyes resolutely avoiding yours, "I- I just heard that you were... asking about Hubert, so, I, uh..."

It takes some time to prompt her further. You assure her again and again- no, this isn't intrusive at all- yes, you'd very much like to hear her perspective- no, you're not mad at her. In truth, you're endlessly intrigued about what a gentle soul like Bernadetta would have to say about a man feared across the continent. Finally, she manages,

"He's... actually really kind!" she blurts out, as though the words would abandon her if she gave them the window of opportunity. Your eyebrows raise slightly.

"You think so..?"

"Yes, completely-!" she stammers, "I know he's super, super scary, and powerful and spooky and cold and, uh, all of that. But still," her voice falters as she continues, "He only scolds people when they do something dangerous. And he only hurts people to protect others. I... I know he's done some te-terrible things. But... he's always been nice to Bernie," finally, she meets your eyes with an imploring look in hers, "So, uh, I'm really grateful to him. And I think it would be really nice for someone to reach out to him. If... if that's not too weird or anything. For you."

You smile warmly and nod,

"Thank you, Bernadetta. I know it can't be easy for you to come to me with all of this, but... I'd like to try, if I can."

The opportunity doesn't come in the way you expect.

At first, it seems the night will proceed like many others before. You bring a cup of coffee to your husband's desk, setting it down quietly so as to not disturb him. He's silent, but this is common enough, so you head back to the bedroom to undress for the evening. All nights prior, he would lay beside you long after you'd settled in, then rise to resume work in the morning before you woke up- all the while never allowing your bodies to interact in any way.

Tonight, just as you're about to close the door to Hubert's study behind you, long fingers catch around your wrist, visibly startling you.

It's the most physical contact you've had to-date, but he only says,

"One moment."

You whip around to face him, a touch of anxiety evident in your eyes. It's clear in his own that he notices, but if anything, he only seems amused. He steps forward, his taller frame menacing you as he speaks,

"I understand that you have been busying yourself with some manner of investigation as of late."

It takes a moment for his meaning to reach you. When it does, your face burns and you can't bring yourself to meet his scrutinizing gaze,

"Oh, uhm..."

"I assure you, my dearest wife," he says with barely concealed venom, "anything that I do not wish for you to know will be kept from you. Aside from which, your efforts thus far have proven amateurish at best."

Something seems off about his tone. You could understand if he felt uncomfortable or hesitant about your efforts to learn about him, but this seems far more grave, more... business-like. He steps towards you once more, and you step back in turn. Yet before long, you feel your legs bump the edge of the bed. A gloved hand trails a fingertip down your jawline to your chin, then urges you to look up at him.

"Whatever you are planning, my dear, I promise it will be fruitless. You had best rethink how you spend your days before your actions bring you to harm."

"No, I-" your brow creases deeply, your face burns, your body burns hotter and you don't want to consider why, "I've just been trying to learn about you as a person, nothing else. We're- we're married, after all, so..."

He gives an abrupt, dry laugh.

"Ah, so I am to believe that you've been interrogating my allies out of some misguided affection, is that it?"

"Hubert, just listen to me!" for a moment, you feel bolstered, defiant, and you straighten your posture, "You won't tell me the first thing about you- the only way to learn so much as your favorite color is to ask someone who's known you for a decade!"

Briefly, he does seem to consider your words. But his eventual reply is as aloof as any prior,

"If you're no spy or politician, then you're worse- a fool." he says, and before you can respond, he's seized both of your wrists and pushed you back onto the bed. For a moment, the room spins and your voice leaves you. A shrewd eye watches you with cruel condescension as he pins you against the sheets.

"I should think that you'd be well aware what I'm capable of," he nearly whispers, "I personally ensured that the rumors spread through your father's territory and further still. Do you think that anyone would even dare lift a finger to help you if I chose to seek retribution for this recent behavior?" He draws nearer, his grip tighter at your wrists, "Perhaps as punishment, I'll simply take my pleasure from you by force."

Your lips tighten, you take a breath. Then, meeting his gaze directly, you reply,

"You won't."

His visible eye narrows.

"And what evidence do you have to prompt such unfounded confidence? Perhaps you have crafted a flattering falsehood of me in your mind," a mocking smirk curls his lips, "Am I a misunderstood sentimental sort to you, then? A sad, lonely man for you to save?"

You scowl, though you suspect it looks more like a pout to him.

"I don't know what I think of you yet- not completely. But I don't pity you like that, and I don't think you're sad or lonely. I know you're not."

For the first time, it seems that you've caught him off guard. That frigid mask falters for just a moment, and you go on before he can replace it,

"You're surrounded by people who care about you. I've seen it for myself. Whatever you've had to do in the service of your ideals- it hasn't kept the people around you from wanting to know and understand you, even if it's despite you."

Hubert is silent for a moment. His gaze bores into you like he thinks he'll discover some hidden layer if he can just keep digging. Then, he sighs,

"How did I ever become bound to such a troublesome spouse..."

When you wrest your arms from his grasp, his hands fall away with little resistance, and you think that perhaps he had never truly intended to keep you in place by force to begin with. He moves to leave the bed, but your fists find the front of his clothing and tug him back down to you.

You press your lips to his without hesitation, and you can feel him inhale sharply, his entire body rigid above you. His lips are surprisingly soft, his scent like coffee and old parchment, and though your heart threatens to burst from your chest, you hold firmly to him by his clothes. Near imperceptibly, he leans down against you, and your fear, along with any remaining doubts, begin to dissolve. Knowing he won't pull away, you let your hands relax against him, running up his chest where you can feel his own pulse pounding. It's so human, so entirely reasonable and normal. Now, at last, Hubert Von Vestra is merely a man of flesh and bone.

Your tongue meets his naturally, your lips parting in time with his as your kiss deepens to a fevered pace. One hand reaches that sharp, handsome jawline, reveling in the erotic sensation of his mouth moving against yours. And yet, all the while, his hands remain staunchly on the bed beside you. He doesn't touch you- doesn't even let his body meet yours.

It's impossible to tell whether passion or madness drives you to bring your teeth to his lower lip, a single insistent bite communicating desire mounting faster than you can contain. And for a moment, you sense something new; a sound catches in Hubert's throat, a reaction he fights to stifle. Then, he pulls away. His pale skin is tinted a rare shade of pink, and his hair is ruffled out of place enough to reveal both narrowed eyes. His cloak has spilled around his frame to surround you both, and somewhere in your frazzled mind, you imagine that you're caught in some beautiful, velvet-lined trap.

"I- must... return to my work." Hubert says stiffly. He pushes up from you and turns away, leaving you still flustered on the bed behind him. You sit upright, holding your arms tight around your body as you watch him straighten his hair and clothes.

"You, uhm..." your face reddens still as you search for the right words, "you could... join me in bed, if you liked."

Hubert turns to the door of his study, speaking without daring to even glance your way,

"Anything that you offer to me now will be born from the impulse to survive. I have been bargained with before." His shoulders slack just slightly, his voice low and sober, "The proudest nobleman will even sell off his own child to a monster if he feels it will spare him its teeth."

You open your mouth to protest, then shut it without a word. You feel that you know your mind and heart, even in this moment, but you lack the words to convince a man like this. In a feeble attempt, you murmur,

"You don't frighten me, Hubert. Not anymore."

He half turns toward you, though his hand remains on the handle of his study door.

"You yourself said that you do not know what you think of me," he says, "As such, I will not lay a hand on you until the day that you do."

You stare down at your hands in your lap, barely registering the sound of the door clicking shut as he leaves you in the bedroom. No matter how you try to sort out your tangled thoughts, the memory of his lips on yours won't leave them. If anything, it eclipses any sense of reason, standing resolutely in the way of your path to clarity. Letting out a groaning sigh, you fall onto your back on the bed, staring blankly at the ceiling as if it could offer you any advice.

What do I think about my own husband? You wonder, the thought nearly enough to make you laugh. Well for one, he's a pain.

[frostedfaves]

Delicate

Masterlist

Pairing: Rosa Diaz x fem!reader

Summary: Rosa works a murder case to prove your innocence, inspired by this

Warnings: mentions of murder, infidelity, poorly written casework

A/N: I have only one wish: feedback on this bit of chaos here.

-

At this point in Rosa’s life, there were only three things that brought her memorable pain.

The first was being sent to juvie after snapping under the weight of her parents' expectations.

The second was being released from juvie and realizing the two people who’d played a part in her downfall no longer gave a shit about what happened to her.

The third was seeing you, sitting beside Boyle’s desk in handcuffs.

Of course, she didn’t let anyone see this as she attempted to make her way to her own desk undetected, but you wouldn’t--couldn’t--let her think you were a criminal.

“Rosa--”

“Detective Diaz,” she growled as she walked past with her head held high, surprising herself by restraining from hurting you when you grabbed a fistful of her jacket. “Let me go--”

“I was framed!” you cried out with tears filling your eyes as you raised them to meet hers. “Please. I know you don’t have to believe me, but I’m begging you. I’m the same person you’ve spoken to all these nights. I’ll tell you everything, just...please.”

Her stance was rigid as her mind focused on your fearful expression and the desperate way you clung to her, as if you knew the moment you let go, everything you’d had the last few months was over. Realizing everyone’s eyes were on the two of you as you stared each other down, she roughly pulled herself away to walk over to her desk and deposit her bag and helmet. Your hands dropped into your lap in defeat, only to rise again when Rosa pulled you to your feet by the piece of metal holding your wrists together and led you into an interrogation room.

“Talk,” she ordered once the door was closed and you were seated at the table.

“Early this morning, they found the body of one of the supervisors at my job. Apparently he was killed last night and one of my coworkers pointed the blame toward me, saying that I wanted his position and tried to force him to retire early.”

“You were with me last night. I mean, unless you killed the guy after our call.” She met your widened eyes and sighed. “Sorry.”

“I just don’t know what to do. I know it probably looks bad because I actually am up for a promotion, I had a meeting about it a few days ago. But I’d never kill anyone! I swear I wouldn’t, and I really hope that--”

“I believe you.” She slipped into the chair across from you and squeezed your hands briefly before pulling away again. “And not just because I want to believe that I’m not falling for some power-hungry murderer, but because I trust you not to lie to me.”

A soft smile formed on your lips but a knock sounded at the door before you could respond. You watched her stand and approach the door again to open it, growing nervous again when you saw one of the detectives that arrested you. 

“Holt’s out today, so Sarge is running the briefing and he needs you there too. It’s about this case.”

“Fine.” She faced you again with her hand still holding the door open. “I’ll be back. Just breathe.”

Rosa followed Charles out of the room and down to the briefing room, cutting off any questions he began to ask with a sharp “no”. They were the last to arrive, everyone else seated and looking at Terry standing in front of a board holding some of the case details.

“I’m putting myself on this case,” she announced before anyone else could speak as she approached the board to read over everything.

“Don’t you think you’re too close to this, Rosa?” Charles questioned carefully, yelping at the expression she offered him in response. “I meant to say ‘welcome to the team’!”

“Boyle’s right, Diaz,” Terry spoke up next as she turned away from the board. “What was that in the bullpen?”

“Innocent until proven guilty.” She walked over to sit on one of the tables in front. “Go on.”

“Alright.” He looked down at the notes he’d obtained before entering the room. “So according to the medical examiner, the time of death is set around 9:17pm last night--”

“Y/N didn’t do it,” Rosa quickly interjected. “A camera in the lobby of her building will verify her entering a few minutes before then, and she doesn’t leave after that.”

“Rosa, I know you don’t want your friend to get in trouble, but this--”

“I was with her.” She took a deep breath to prepare herself for not only spilling the secret of her unconfirmed relationship, but to essentially come out as bisexual for the first time ever. “We were in the park together with our dogs and I walked her home after. I know it was 9:15 when we got there because the huge clock in her lobby said 10:15, and it’s been an hour ahead since Daylight Savings Time. I was at her door for a few minutes and when I was leaving, the clock said 10:20.”

“So how do you know she didn’t leave after that?” Jake questioned, causing her to sigh again.

“Because I’m a few blocks away from her and she Facetimed me when I sent her a text telling her I was home. She fell asleep on the phone.”

“Oh damn. You’re in love, girl,” Gina commented, a grin forming when all Rosa did was roll her eyes in response. 

“Okay so she has an alibi, but we also have to rule out the possibility that she had an accomplice.” Terry sighed when Rosa gave him a threatening look. “Look, I want to believe she’s innocent too--”

“Then believe it.”

“--but we have to consider everything, Diaz. It looks pretty suspicious that the last person to see our victim alive also had a reason to want him gone.”

“How do you know she was the last to see him alive?” Rosa took the piece of paper Amy held out to her holding a witness statement, forcing herself not to overreact when she read that Y/N had been spotted talking to her supervisor next to his car. “This means nothing. Check into the person that gave this statement.”

“Rosa--”

“How do we even know she was the last person he saw? And that the person who ‘witnessed’ this didn’t just follow the vic home and kill him just to frame her? What, because of some camera footage and he said, she said?” Barely a moment of silence passed before Rosa spoke again. “Exactly. Santiago and Boyle, meet me downstairs. I’m driving.”

She dropped the witness statement on the table in front of Amy and stormed out, grabbing the keys to her squad car on her way back to the interrogation room you were waiting in. Your eyes snapped up from your hands when the door opened, relaxing slightly as Rosa entered the room.

“I’m going to be out for a bit trying to investigate more of the people involved, but you’ll be okay here.” She hesitated for a moment before approaching your side and leaning down to kiss you for the second time in 12 hours. “I love you.”

She was back out the door as quickly as she arrived.

-

Waiting to find out if you’d be charged with a murder you didn’t commit was hard. Being transitioned from the quiet calm of the interrogation room to the holding cell adjoining the chaotic bullpen was hard too, but at least your hands weren’t chained together anymore. You sat in the farthest corner and counted the minutes until they seemed to all blend together, and all you could focus on was the lingering feeling of warmth caused by Rosa’s lips on yours and her confession.

Having given up on your counting long ago, you weren’t sure how much time had passed when the door to the holding cell opened again. You were delighted to see Rosa again, but your hopeful expression shifted to confusion when you saw who she was leading in.

“Mrs. Fenderson?”

“Hi, Y/N.” 

The woman spoke softly without meeting your eyes, moving to sit on a nearby bench when Rosa unlocked her cuffs. You eyed her curiously as Rosa gently grabbed your wrist and led you out of the cell, making sure it locked before bringing you over to her desk.

“Um, why is my supervisor’s wife--”

“She did it,” she told you as the two of you sat down. “Well, she had some help.”

You followed the direction she nodded in with your eyes, which widened when you saw a couple officers leading in the one person that accused you of being involved with everything. You watched as they led him to the holding cell too, only turning away when Rosa placed her hand over one of yours.

“How did you…? What?!” you asked, unable to fight off a bit of a smile when Rosa snorted. 

“Mrs. Fenderson recently signed up her husband for a pretty hefty life insurance policy, and it didn’t take long to find out those two were boning. I got her to confess to everything while they tracked down her lover, who used the fact that you were up for the same promotion he wanted as a chance to frame you.”

“That’s so fucking crazy,” you responded in a breathless tone as you attempted to wrap your head around the situation for a second, giving up and bringing your free hand to rest on top of hers. “Thank you.”

“Innocent until proven guilty.” She shrugged nonchalantly as she stood, pulling you to your feet as well before you released her hand. “Anyway, it’s super late now and I know you haven’t eaten anything so let’s go.”

“Fine, but I’m paying,” you insisted as the two of you headed toward the elevator, laughing a bit as you remembered something. “As long as we can stop by my apartment first. They don’t exactly let you bring your phone and wallet when you’re arrested for murder.”

“You can pay next time,” she told you with a snort, quickly adding “if I let you.”

The elevator ride passed along silently, and it wasn’t long before you were headed down the street to a 24 hour diner that you’d mentioned to Rosa last night. You waited until you were seated and food was ordered before starting a conversation.

“About what you said earlier,” you began with your gaze locked on the straw wrapper you were toying with, completely missing Rosa’s panicked expression.

“Look, we can just forget I said anything.”

“No!” You lowered your voice after noticing a few wary glances, turning back to Rosa and pulling her hands into yours. “I don’t want to forget it, but I was hoping to say it first.”

“You love me too?”

“I do.” You squeezed her fingers with a grin. “I love you, Rosa, and I love Arlo for giving me an excuse to keep seeing his mom, because I sure as hell would’ve been too nervous to come up with one on my own.”

Expecting Rosa to be too uncomfortable with PDA, you pulled her hands closer to drop a kiss on her knuckles, pleasantly surprised when she pulled away to hold your jaw in place, leaning forward to press her lips to yours.

-

Tags: @gaulty74 @creepingwolfberry @rosadiazswifey @xetherealbeautyx @milkfromhell