#this might be another fic I write there you’ll probably see just how hurtful this is for both of them

[eggseabutter]

TW: Abuse, mentions of experimentation on children and torture like experiences.

Something I think about my au a lot is Shadow reacting to Aleena’s abuse.

Aleena’s excuse for treating Sonic the way she does is because it is for the ‘greater good’, and you know in a way, the reason Shadow was created was for a ‘greater good’ as well; Shadow got experimented on just to see how much he could resist and to create a cure for Maria.When he starts seeing the things Sonic goes through in his mother’s ‘training’, he is just paralyzed because is too familiar.

I don’t talk much about Aleena’s ‘training’ for Sonic but it usually goes on the same bases as experimentation on Shadow’s body, except Aleena does it with chaos energy and magic.

Aleena is a sorcerer, her main source of power is her flute but with time, it becomes a corrupted magic given her emotion and intentions (She doesn’t want to acknowledge is dark magic but it is). She uses it on Sonic to understand how much chaos energy he holds, where does it come from and most importantly what weakens it and how to erase that ‘weakness’. The main effects for this is that Sonic feels cold all the time, he has current high fevers, he gets tired more easily (which isn’t much but still)muscle pain and loses appetite.

Shadow is the first one (followed by Knuckles) to notice these changes because he can sense it in Sonic’s energy.

He knows what’s happening.

[moonstruckme]

My stomach hurts so bad!! I feel so sick Bb do u think u could write a fic with James or Steve with a super sick gf???

I'm sorry about your stomach babe! Hopefully you're feeling much better by now, thank you for requesting

cw: food poisoning (no vom or anything, just mentioned)

Steve Harrington x fem!reader ♡ 615 words

You whine, curling in on yourself like you can squash your insides into numbness. “I feel so gross,” you whine. 

“You are pretty gross,” Steve replies, knuckles running up and down your arm. 

You look up at him from where your head rests on his lap, appalled. “You’re not supposed to agree with me!” 

“What?” Your boyfriend gives you a disbelieving look. “I didn’t say you were hideous, but you are definitely grosser than usual. Like, if we’re taking you on your best day, this is at least thirty percent more gross than that. I can’t agree with that?” 

“No!”

“In that case, I think you’re delirious with fever, babe. I never said anything about you being gross.” 

Despite yourself, a reluctant little chuckle puffs out of you. Steve grins. 

“Even if you were gross,” he drags his palm down the length of your back, letting it curve over your hip to your thigh before starting back in the other direction, “you’d still be way hotter than anyone else I’ve ever seen. It’s only fair that you get gross every now and then. You know, to make everyone else feel better.” 

“I don’t think everyone else is that worried about it,” you say. 

“That’s where I think you’re wrong. Think about it: we eat at the same place we go to all the time, and only you get food poisoning? That’s not chance, that is a planned attack.” 

You look up at him amusedly. “You think this was an assassination attempt?” 

“I mean, without the killing part, probably, but yeah.” 

You hum, settling back in on his lap. “You’re starting to sound like your nerd friends.” 

Steve’s mouth drops open playfully. “I am not! And anyway, if you tune out Wheeler’s brother, sometimes they’re making some good points.” 

You start to smile just before another cramp seizes your middle, rolling through you with a wave of nausea. Steve’s grip on you tightens as your eyes screw shut. 

“Shit.” He sounds part sympathetic and part like he might be in pain himself, one hand worming underneath your arms to rub at your stomach. “I’m sorry, baby. I know it sucks. All we can do is ride it out, and it should be gone by morning.” 

You make a small, distressed sound. “We don’t even know if it’s food poisoning.” 

“Nah, it is.” 

Steve’s massaging helps, and gradually the pain lessens. You take deep breaths until you can think clearly again. 

“How are you so sure?” you ask him. 

He shrugs. “It’s just the only thing that makes sense. You’re just getting whatever it was out of your system. You’ll be good as new soon, just you wait.” 

You shoot him a dubious look. “What, you think you’re a doctor now?” 

“No, but I kinda look like I could play one on TV, right?” At your bewildered silence, Steve goes on, his hand still moving gently over your stomach. “I’m just saying, have you ever seen those soap operas in the hospitals? If they came out to Hawkins to do their casting calls, I’d be snatched up in a hot second, babe.” 

You study him. Steve is undeniably handsome, this isn’t new information. He has a firm brow paired with sweetheart eyes and mussable hair, plus a classical sort of bone structure that’s humanized by the odd blemish or mole. Nice skin and a nicer smile. Good hands, too, one of which is currently caressing your hurting stomach while the other plays with the ends of your hair. 

“Nope,” you say, completely lovestruck. “I don’t see it.”

“That’s okay.” Steve gives the pudge of your stomach a gentle squeeze. “It’s just the fever getting to you again.”

[lincolndjarin]

fine art

javi gutierrez x moviestar!reader - installment #1 of sparrow's spectacles

main masterlist - other spectacles - kofi

summary : you were an up and coming actress, javi is your biggest fan, he'd do anything to have meet you.

word count : 3.9k

warnings, tags : dead dove do not eat, !! dark fic !! mdni 18+, noncon, stalker!javi, kidnapping, capture, stockholm syndrome, m&f masturbation, sex toys, briefly mentioned periods, exhibitionism, voyurism, so much internal thought processing regarding readers situation, briefly referenced suicide, reader is undescribed other than briefly being mentioned as young in her acting career, in my head she's late twenties, probs other tags i missed sorry. tldr: you have spent so much time with javi against your will that you unwillingly start fantasizing about him and give in to destructive urges in an attempt to escape him, everything is bad here.

a/n : is this stupid and probably bad? who knows, i have a terrible sense of self judgement lately so i'm just gonna post this and hope it's good. also can you tell that i blatantly stole the set from You LMAO. anyhow this is the first installment of my little 'horror' series. but it's less horror and more just odd little stories i wanted to write tbh

Desk, bed, lamp, television, door, chair.

Desk, bed, lamp, television, door, chair.

Desk, bed, lamp, television, door, chair.

On days where you’re feeling particularly bored you list the things you can see. Unfortunately for you, your surroundings rarely change. Of course you could change that, if you asked him for something he’d give it to you, anything you wanted. Unless of course it was something he thought you could hurt yourself with or contact the outside world with. 

You didn’t often ask. 

Whenever you can have a conversation with him he always says the same thing. 

“If you stopped being so stubborn you might actually be happy.” 

“I would do anything for you.” “Then let me out.” “Anything but that.” 

“It’s not as terrible as you make it out to be. It isn’t an actual cage, it isn’t so bad.” 

So you don’t talk to him unless you have to. 

But some days you’re just so painfully, agonizingly, bored and you can’t help yourself. So you scream at him, or you pound on the unyielding plexiglass, or you hold your hand up against it, hoping he’ll touch the other side and you can briefly imagine yourself having physical contact with another human being. 

Sometimes you’ll even play his games. 

You’ll read the scripts he slides through the small square opening in the cage that can’t be more than a foot wide, and act out scenes with him simply because it gives you something to do and for fucks sake you’re desperate for something to do. It’s so easy to get caught up in him, if it wasn’t so easy you’d probably let yourself do it more often, thankfully, it’s so fucking scary. If you spend too much time in the box you’re worried that eventually you’ll forget that you aren’t a doll and you'll grow to like your box. So you do your damndest to maintain a wall between the two of you, but when that wall is glass it is destined to break eventually. So you scream and you fight until you get tired, and then you let the walls down as you rest, before returning to your struggle. And everytime you let the walls down they take longer to put back up. 

At the end of the day it never matters how you treat him, he loves you all the same. 

Even on days where you scream your throat raw and throw your furniture against the walls, if you ask him to get you takeout from your favorite restaurant, or watch a movie with you, he always will. You asked him about it once. Why didn't he just make you do what he wanted? Why didn’t he just make you obey? He had looked genuinely offended, as if he couldn’t believe you thought him capable of such a thing. 

And he told you that he loved you.

More than anything. 

That you were his most prized possession. 

That he would never do anything to hurt you, it would be like if he were angry and he threw a priceless vase, the only person it would hurt is himself. 

You had nodded as if he was making any sense and you’d turned back to the movie he’d picked out. 

You were a vase. 

You were a collectible. 

A priceless, collectable. He kept you in perfect condition and never took you out of the box. Not even to play with you himself. A small, rather demented part of you, is starting to wish that he would. Of course you don’t want him to force himself upon you, you aren’t that far gone. (Yet.) But it’s been so long since you’ve touched another person. You would give your left arm just to be held. If your calendar serves you well, it’s been just over two years since you last saw someone who wasn’t Javi. 

And Javi wouldn’t touch you. 

Not ever. You were too perfect to be defiled in such a way. He would sometimes hold his hand against the glass when you held up your own, he even kissed you through it once. (Although it had been rather awkward and neither one of you ever talked about it again.) But he never touched you. 

Sometimes you can’t help but wonder what would have happened if you’d met Javi in a social setting. He is rather handsome, and though you hate to admit it, when he isn’t leering he’s almost charming. 

Almost.

Everyday you slip further into the fantasy where Javi does something to break up the monotony. Is that his goal? To make you so desperate for human connection that you eventually snap and beg him to touch you? You shudder as you wonder how long that would take. After the first year you stopped wondering what would happen when he got bored of you. You know deep down that that will never happen. If anything his devotion  for you only continues to grow with each passing day. If it’s possible he probably loves you more now then he did at the start of your stay here. Despite everything he takes care of you, in his own strange sort of way. 

Like how he tracks your cycle, always making sure you have anything you need on those days. Sometimes he even knows it’s starting before you do, he’ll bring you baskets with blankets and candy and any other little trinket or gift he saw that made him think of you. 

Jewelry, little plush toys, and books. Anything to try and make you feel anything other than the misery that constantly loomed over you as you waited for his next visit. He never goes more than a few days without seeing you and he always apologizes when he does. He returns with your favorite shampoo or lotion to make it up to you, but it never really changes how you feel about him. It’s nice to fantasize a world in which you enjoy your only source of company but you’re careful to never let that fantasy bleed into reality. 

If he were actually your partner you’d have locked him down ages ago. A part of you knows that he doesn’t want that kind of relationship with you though. He doesn’t want a girlfriend, you’re much more than that. You’re more like a goddess in a cage to him than an actual human being. A beloved pet bird. It’s clear he feels something more than simple love for you. It’s a devotion, a conscious effort to worship you. 

You are to be kept in pristine condition. 

Of course that doesn’t mean he can’t look. 

Two and a half years. 

That’s how long it took for the looking to escalate into something more. You were watching a movie. 

50 First Dates

You had picked it out, Javi liked action movies but would never complain when you wanted to watch a rom-com. You were on your bed, curled up under the blankets in a hoodie and sweatpants. You haven’t worn makeup since he took you, you rarely brushed your hair, you never put much thought into your appearance, and Javi wouldn’t give you a mirror. 

You had one, a long time ago. Within the first week you’d smashed it, threatening to slit your own throat if he didn’t let you out. All that resulted in was you no longer being allowed to have breakables. Plastic cutlery and paper plates were wordlessly passed to you from that point forward.

You had been watching in silence, he sat on the couch outside the cage like he always did and it wasn’t until you heard a shuddering groan that you turned around to see him kneeling beside the cage, one hand pressed up against the glass, steadying himself, the other wrapped around his cock.  

You were frozen in place. 

What are you supposed to do in that situation? 

You watched, slack jawed as he took his time. His gaze made you feel naked, like he could see through the layers of blankets and baggy clothing. 

He had looked you in the eye when he finished. Briefly staring wide eyed before his eyes squeezed shut and with a long, drawn out moan and a strained cry of your name. His cum painted the glass and before you could form any sort of response he was already stuffing himself back into his pants and standing. You want to say something, anything. Something to hold him accountable for what he just did, but you can’t think of anything, and he’s already leaving. 

Before you can even blink he’s gone, without so much as a glance in your direction. And you’re left alone, in the lamp light, unable to escape the sight of his filth on the glass. Covering your head with a blanket as you waited for it to be late enough for the power to cut out and leave you in a safe, and comfortable darkness. 

A part of you hoped that the white speckles would be gone when you woke up but you weren’t that lucky. 

You faced away from that wall, with your head buried in a book until you looked at the clock and knew it was almost time to face him again. When he returned he had an aura of shame around himself, his arms were full of grocery bags and his eyes were red rimmed and teary. 

“I’m so sorry- I just- I love you so much, I don’t know what came over me.” If this was a normal relationship and the two of you had maybe gotten into an argument or something you would have forgiven him. After all he looked genuinely remorseful as he stared at you, going through the bags before setting down several takeout containers with labels you recognized. He had gone out and gotten all your favorites. Your favorite fast food place, as well as a high end chinese restaurant you loved for special occasions, and a clear plastic case with a slice of your favorite flavored cake from a small bakery near your apartment that you frequented. (You’d never asked him to get you anything from there before, you’d never even mentioned the place to him.) 

Through his mumbled apologies he set down your favorite bubble tea flavor and a water bottle. 

He had passed everything to you through the opening in the cage with trembling hands as he sniffled. Once you had everything he sprayed the drying remnants of his release with Windex, pulling several paper towels off the roll and wiping it until it was as if it never happened. By the time he was finished his cheeks were red and big tears rolled down his face. 

“Hey, it’s okay.” Before you can stop yourself you’re comforting him, as if he’s the victim in this situation. 

“It’s not okay, I don’t want you to think that that’s why you’re here.” He mumbles sadly, letting his forehead hit the glass. Through your disgust for your own words you sense something else.

Opportunity. 

The only chance you’re going to get for escape involves him unlocking the door. Something he hasn’t done since he put you in here in the first place. You’ve tried in the past. Not often, there weren’t very many chances, you had everything you needed here, running water and a bathroom, any other sustenance was provided by him through the little opening. There was so rarely an opportunity, and when there were he always anticipated your plans before you got to put them into motion. But you’ve never tried deception. You think you would have, considering you’re an actress but it had never crossed your mind until just now. You can’t half ass this though. If you decide to do this you will get one chance to do it right. 

Go big or go home. 

“No really, it’s okay. It’s sort of… flattering.” His face drops the second you say it and regret starts creeping in. You’re going to die here. He’s going to keep you here until the day you die and no one will ever know what happened to you. A young starlight, taken out in her prime. 

“It’s not, it’s disgusting.” He tosses the paper towels away, sniffling to himself as he stands with his hands clasped in front of him, swaying anxiously back and forth. You take a seat on your bed across from him, fighting the urge to put your hand on the glass. You don’t want to lay it on too thick, he’ll see right through that. 

“It’s fine, it’s- it’s natural.” You’re struggling to find the right words that make it feel real. At one point you were a rather talented actress but you’re out of practice. “Seriously. Especially from you. It’s really sweet.” Fuck, are you doing too much?

He doesn’t respond. Instead, he chews his lip as he stares at you, you can tell he’s skeptical. He should be. You so rarely speak to him and when you do it’s never to be kind. 

“Actions speak louder than words.” 

Someone said that in a movie Javi picked, you had sat and let him read the scene to you afterwards. 

He wants an actress, you can give him that. You can perform, as long as that’s all it is. If it’s a performance you can keep your wall up. You stumble off the bed, your legs feeling like jelly as you pull open the drawer on your nightstand. 

This plan feels stupider by the minute but you need to commit.

He didn’t gift you sex toys the way he did with other little things to make you happier. But they were always just sort of there. In their original packaging, shoved in your nightstand drawer with a few batteries he’d left as well, they’d been here when you woke up in the cage. You doubt you’ll be able to relax enough to do this without a little help, and you have to be convincing. If you aren’t believable he’s unlikely to trust you in the future. If you fuck this up now you’ll never get another chance. 

It’s a pale pink rabbit. You’d probably never buy something like it for yourself, it looks… expensive. The silicone is smooth against your fingers as you rip open the packaging, twisting the base open to pop in two batteries. Rushing in an attempt to not lose your nerve. When you gather your courage you risk a glance up at him, just fast enough to watch his tongue dart out and wet his lips.

So he does want this. 

Good. 

Pressing the button on the toy makes it buzz to life.  

Okay. 

This isn’t so bad. It’s just masturbating, if you do this for him you can take advantage of the obvious attraction he has for you. Even if it doesn’t work immediately, eventually this ends with him letting you out, or at the very least letting himself in, which is all you need. 

So you get back into bed, and you lean on a stack of pillows before really focusing on him. 

And you ask him the question he didn’t bother to ask you.

“Is this okay?” You hope the trembling in your voice comes off as endearing. 

His throat bobs as he nods. Maybe he doesn’t mind that you’ve been laying it on a little thick. Maybe you’ve denied him your affections for so long that he doesn’t want to risk rejecting any advance from you. No matter how out of the blue it seems/.

You push your sweats down to your ankles before kicking them off the bed. No time for embarrassment or regret now, if he senses hesitation none of this will be worth it. He’s moved to be sitting on the couch directly outside the cage now. His knees pressed together as he sits with his hands in his lap, looking almost comically polite. 

No sense putting off the inevitable. 

It’s been a while, there’s a camera in the corner of the cage so you don’t masturbate often, and when you do it’s late at night, once the lights are off and you can hide under your blanket. You can’t do that now though, that would defeat the purpose. 

You leave the toy off as you shove it down the front of your panties. Pressing the soft head of it against your slit, finding it surprisingly easy to tease your entrance with it. 

Are you wet? 

It’s been a while, that’s why. 

Javi certainly hasn’t wasted any time. If he were sitting any closer he’d be fogging up the glass, his hand is shoved down his pants, his face already flushed red. His usual rigid posture is lost as he leans back into the couch cushions, refusing to tear his eyes off of you. Pulling your bottom lip between your teeth you push the toy into you, holding back a gasp as you swallow. At least it feels sort of good. Good enough to make you wish you’d swallowed your pride and used this before today. 

Your body moves instinctually as your free hand reaches forward to push your panties down and turn the vibe on in one motion, the silicone attachment pressing against your clit as you press the toy deeper into your pussy. It’s a little too easy to relax suddenly. Javi now slowly strokes himself, his cock in his hand, looking painfully hard as he squeezes the base of his shaft, almost as if he’s scared of blowing his load too soon. 

Good. 

The less time it takes the better. 

At least that’s what you tell yourself as you angle the toy, letting the tip of it brush against your g-spot and drawing an authentic moan from you. Fighting the urge to cover your mouth in surprise, you repeat the motion. The combination of sensations making your toes curl and your back arch into the mattress. 

“Fuck-” Your voice catches in your throat, your fingers twitch against the button to turn the vibrations up a level. 

Once you find your rhythm it’s easy to forget about the nerves and what’s at stake. It’s easy to get lost in the sensation and the sight of Javi shuddering as he gasps. It’s easy to focus on the attractive parts of him for a brief moment, to make things easier. And it’s easy to wonder if his cock would feel better than the toy that hums and makes your body tense up deliciously. 

It’s actually terrifying how easy it is. 

It’s enough to make you horrified for just a split second. He wasn’t lying when he said you could be happy if you stopped fighting. Twisted into the pleasure you’re feeling is something else. Relief. Relief for the peace you find when you stop fighting him. You could feel this good all the time if you wanted, you and Javi could have your favorite food for dinner, you could watch your favorite movies, and act out your favorite scenes. 

You could feel good. 

You could have nights like these where you watch him jerk off his pretty, thick cock and know that someone loves you enough to take care of you like this. You could let him buy you pretty things and toys that make you feel so so so good. 

And that thought terrifies you. 

If you stayed in this cage you would eventually become entirely complacent. 

It might not be tomorrow, or next week, or next year, but eventually.

You will be happy to flutter about your cage once you’ve forgotten how to fly. 

His pretty little bird. 

It’s your orgasm that snaps you out of that living nightmare. You hadn’t even realized you’d still been fucking the toy, pleasuring yourself to that little daydream. This wasn’t a good idea and you shouldn’t have done it but it’s too late for that now especially when you’re groaning out his name as you remove the still buzzing toy, now slick with your wetness. Javi’s eyes are wide as he clearly can’t hold back any longer as he dirties his shirt and pants with his own release. 

As you quickly reach for the toy, turning it off, you pull your panties up in a hurry. Maybe you should push your luck and ask him to come into the cage now. A sense of dread is settling in your stomach as you realize that you can’t be here much longer, who knows how quickly you’ll crumble if you keep letting yourself do this. It’s best to make this a swift process where you don’t have any more time to sink into the hell that is acceptance of these four glass walls. 

You’re about to do it. About to tell him that he should join you, that it would feel better for the both of you if he was in the cage as well but you don’t get a chance to as he zips his pants back up.

“Go to bed, when you’re asleep I’m gonna leave you a gift.” He stands abruptly, giving you a reassuring smile before pressing his hand up to the glass. You don’t hesitate to crawl up the length of the bed and press your own to his, it’s brief but you can feel the connection here. 

This is just the beginning. 

After today you’ll put more effort in. You’ll make it happen and you’ll make it happen fast. You can put the time and effort in, it’s not like you have anything better to do. You’ll convince him that it’s real before you lose yourself entirely and when the day finally comes where he opens the door you won’t waste the opportunity. 

You’ll leave your room. 

You can figure out the logistics of it later but for now you take the sleeping pill he slides through the opening every night he visits. You don’t usually take it but you need sleep and this will be easier if he thinks you’re compliant. With a sip of your drink the little pill goes down and your eyes close. 

And you dream that you’re a bird, flying through a blue sky.  

You sleep better than you ever have before in the cage. 

Until you wake, the lamp being on is the only indicator you have that it’s daytime. Your hair stands on end as you sit up. He was here. Things have been moved, little things, noticeable things. Your empty drink is tossed in the bin and it smells of cleaning supplies. He doesn’t ever come inside the cage, that goes against everything he tells you. Your head is spinning as you try to figure out what’s different. How long were you out? The pills have never made you feel this fuzzy before on the rare occasions that you’ve taken them, you do your best to focus but it’s difficult when everything’s so muddled. So you do the one thing you know will clear your head and you list the things you see. 

Desk, bed, lamp, television, chair.

Something’s wrong, different. 

He said he was going to give you a gift. What the fuck did he do? Did he leave it in here? Was it too big to fit through the opening? Is that why he came into the cage? 

You don’t catch it immediately, but there is a note taped to the inside of the glass. 

I knew you’d learn to be happy : ) 

See you tonight.

Love, Javi 

You look back around the room, eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

Desk, bed, lamp, television, chair.

Desk, bed, lamp, television, chair.

Desk, bed, lamp, television, chair.

Oh. 

i no longer have a tag list, follow @lincolndjarinnotifs for updates on my writing!!

[writerscafehub]

𝐌𝐄𝐄𝐓 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐁𝐀𝐑𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐀: 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫

@eulalielatibule

From one to five stars, how would you rate your writing? (No downplaying yourself!)

Hmm I'd say I'm like, 2.8? I'm pretty basic and don't do much editing but my stories are good and I'm proud of them!

2. What do you think makes your writing stand out from other works?

I think I excel at fluffy family fics. I just love writing good dads being sweet with their kids, especially daughters. Another thing that makes me stand out is how I write autistic!reader. I haven't seen anyone else write that for the Chris Evans fandom (not including Steve) so I'm proud to be the one to do it.

3. Are there any writers that inspire you?

Everyone in the server is so talented and they all inspire me in different ways. @a-lumos-in-the-nox puts out story after story with her OC and Ron Weasly and I just love that! Especially as someone who wants to start writing more OCs. @flordeamatista’s writing is so poetic and beautiful and I admire it so much

4. What’s the fic you’re most proud of?

I'm pretty proud of my Suburban Dad Sunday verse. It's done so well but it's also just very fun for me to write and it's letting me explore characters that I hadn't written for previously.

5. Which character(s) do you find easiest to write and which do you find most difficult to write?

Jake Jensen is definitely the easiest. Idk he's just so sweet and fun and the vibes are immaculate with him! The most difficult would probably be any dark character

6. Who or what do you find yourself writing about most?

I write a lot about Jake and fluff/hurt and comfort.

7. Tell us about a WIP you’re excited about!

I have a Lloyd Hansen fic with a living music box ballerina. It'll be a giant/tiny fic which I know isn't super popular but I find it so comforting and I'm excited to share it!

8. First fandom you ever wrote for?

I believe it was Phantom of the Opera 🙈😂

9. Any guilty pleasure trope(s)?

I can't think of any tropes, but I do love reading daddy kink fics lmao

10. A trope you’ll never, ever write for.

I mean never say never, but I do not like enemies to lovers. Idk why, I just can't get behind it. I also will likely never write a mob au.

11. Wildest fic you’ve ever written?

Probably my most recent one with Jake Jensen x Reader x Ari Levinson. H-O-T-T-O-G-O was my first time writing a throuple and it was interesting!

12. Favorite pairing to write for? (platonic or romantic!)

I love writing Lloyd Hansen and his Reader for SDS. He's just so funny and petty and it's fun to see his shenanigans!

13. Do you listen to anything while you write?

No, I get too distracted. I need it to be quiet while I write. I do have playlists to help me get into the right headspace or to help with muse.

14. One-shots or multi-chaptered works?

One shots all the way

15. Have you ever daydreamed about side adventures/spin-offs from your fic? Tell us about them!

All the time! Although I feel like most of my fics are little side quests to one big story/universe. I want to do more with The Purrfect Pair- Kitten is so cute and there's lots of potential for mischief with her and Wanda.

16. Is there anything you’ve wanted to write, but you’ve been too scared to try?

Soooo many things. I want to write a smutty series but smut is just so hard for me to write for some reason. I admire those who write it so effortlessly!

17. What’s the nicest comment you’ve ever received?

There are many comments that I hold near and dear to my heart. Recently I got a comment from @thezombieprositute who said my ability to turn simple prompts into heart warming stories was a testament to my skills and it really made my day.

18. Have you ever gone outside of your comfort zone for a fic? How did it turn out?

A long time ago I wrote a Wanda Maximoff x Steve Rogers Halloween fic. It was on my old account so it isn't around anymore, though I might repost it here. It was definitely a challenge as it was more involved and took a lot of world building. It turned out okay, but maybe I'll revisit it and do some editing!

19. Tooth-rotting fluff or merciless angst?

Fluff, all the time.

20. Do you have any OCs? Tell us about them!

Do I?? I have so many. Thank you for the time to infodump about some of my favorites lmao

I have Eloise Montgomery who is a sexretary for Pete Brenner. Her face claim is Sydney Sweeney!

There's also Charles Randolph who is similar to Ransom in that he's a bratty rich boy who I pair with Ari Levinson. His face claim is Logan Lerman.

I have soooo many but they are my favorites!

21. If you could enter the universe of any one of your fics, which would it be and why?

Oh gosh, that's hard. Probably my The Purrfect Pair au. I want to live in a cottage with Wanda Maximoff more than anything!

22. Is there anything you wish your audience knew about your writing or writing process?

I can't think of anything in particular. It just takes me a while to write because of burn out and stuff but I love it and I love sharing it with everyone 🩷

23. Copy and paste an excerpt you’re particularly fond of.

Oof this is hard for some reason but I do like this from Pine-ing For You

One time when you both were drunkenly singing All I Want for Christmas is You, he pulled you over to the plant hanging from the ceiling and kissed you straight on the mouth. It was a chaste, puckered lips type of kiss and yet it still made your heart flutter from excitement. You both carried on as if nothing happened, never brought it up when you were sober. You eventually decided the incident was merely drunken shenanigans and nothing more, although a part of you wanted to feel his plush lips against yours again.

24. Ramble about any fic-related thing you want!

I'm excited for all that I have planned this year and I hope I can venture into some new territory with my fic writing. I appreciate everyone's support, you all mean the world to me! 🙏🏼 

[aetherdoesthings]

Resend of my request because you said so lmao (ima just copy + paste)

Hi, m'back :D and because I love hurting myself, can I request a hanahaki au! Reader x Robin? :))) if you thought the enies lobby one was angsty, that one was just a test. I'm feeling evil to myself >:)

If you're not familiar with what hanahaki au! is, basically nothing changes about the world except there's now a disease called hanahaki disease, and essentially, someone can get hanahaki disease when they have unrequited love for someone. Symptoms of hanahaki disease include flowers growing in the victim's lungs, and the first signs of the disease come when the victim starts coughing petals. The longer the hanahaki disease prevails (it can go on for years), the more intense and painful the coughing can get and can eventually lead to coughing up whole flowers (stem, petals, and all) until the victim eventually dies. (Fun, right? 🥰) Hanahaki disease can only be cured if the victim decides to lose their feelings for someone or if the victim's crush likes them back.

Typically in Hanahaki au! Fics, the victim hides their symptoms in fear of revealing their romantic feelings. In some fics, certain actions can trigger their coughing, for example, if someone mentions the victim's crush's name, or if the victim sees their crush with someone else, they may start intensely coughing at that moment. Although less rare, some fics make the hanahaki disease non-lethal and more of just a life convenience. This is an option you can put as well. I'm not picky. :)

I thought Hanahaki Disease might fit given Robin's Devil Fruit. Reader would have the Hanahaki disease (so reader likes robin, but robin doesn't like her (yet?)) and because I love to share pain, I'll let you decide reader's fate :). Does she let go of her feelings to live, does Robin like her back to live, or does reader die without the chance of confessing?

Take as long as you need :333. Go ahead, break my heart. I wonder if you're just breaking your own in the process as well :D anyways, TYSM ILY 🫶🫶

the day has come, Eneis Lobby anon. the first part of the hanahaki au!reader x robin fic. i don't break my heart writing stuff like this. only robin's past can make my heart break and cry.

forethoughts: ooffff probably gonna be a three parter? idk, depends on how much i write and how much i want to drag out y/n suffering.

notes: fem!reader, modern au!, high school

You hated going to school. You hated waking up at 7 am in the morning, to trudge to school in a uniform with other adolescents that didn’t make your life any better. Sure, it was your junior year; one more year and you’ll finally be done. But you didn’t want to wait for one more year. You wanted to just end school now.

As much as you loathed sitting at a desk looking at the whiteboard while your teacher rambled on and on about the lesson, there was one good thing that came out of school.

Nico Robin.

Another junior in your grade. The popular and extremely unbelievable smart girl everyone loved. She was the center of attention during lunch, where other juniors would swarm her just to have a word, or beg her to help them with their homework. You sat there on the side, watching it all happen, hoping you could be one of them. One of her close friends. It pained you to see so many people who didn’t even give a rat’s ass about Robin and only talked to her for her intelligence. Robin was so much better than her brains or her brawns, even her beauty. She was a goddess in your eyes; in everyone’s eyes, and all you wanted to do was be seated by her side, basking in her beauty and appreciating her smarts. She didn’t deserve to have other juniors crowd around her and leech off of her brains. She deserved better. She deserved someone who would treat her well and treat her with kindness instead of selfishness. She deserved-

A harrowing cough was ripped out of your throat, as you buckled over until it stopped. You stared at the ground, and found a single cherry blossom petal right where your shoes were. You rubbed your throat, searching for a reprieve to the sudden pain you just felt. Was that petal always there? Couldn’t be. There was no way you coughed out of a petal. But it wasn’t anywhere near cherry blossom season… 

You kicked the petal that was in between your shoes, and to your dismay it moved. You weren’t hallucinating. A cherry blossom petal was there, even though it was nowhere near cherry blossom season. You looked back up at Robin, who had disappeared, and so did the entire table of juniors.

It’s fine. It’s nothing. I’m going crazy. I’m just batshit insane. Yeah. That’s what I am. You nodded your head at that statement. While no one was looking, you picked up the petal, shoving it in your pocket as you moved on with your day, pretending nothing ever happened. You weren’t coughing up flower petals, and even if you were, there’s no reason for you to be coughing up flower petals. Who even coughs up flower petals?

History, the one class you shared with Robin. You were good at that subject; history was your thing. Of course it was her thing too; Robin was the biggest history buff ever. She knew how the Earth was created and every single era leading up to now. During group projects, everyone wanted to pair with her, and you were left to work by yourself. 

Class began, and the teacher started to talk.

“Alright, class. Today we will begin working on our project regarding absolutism and absolutist rulers. We’ve gone over a few classes talking about absolutism, and now it’s your turn to present. I will be pairing you with another student, and the two of you will have a week to work on it before presenting it in front of the class. I will be assigning a country to you, and the two of you will choose which absolutist ruler you would like to do. Do I make myself clear?” The teacher announced. Once the teacher heard a chorus of mumbles and agreeing nods, he began to walk through the rows of desks, pointing at students and saying a random country.

“Robin and Y/N, England.” Your eyes widened when the teacher said your name and Robin’s. You looked at Robin, who was sitting in the second row, just diagonal to your desk. She gave you a warm smile, making your insides do a flip. You watched Robin move her stuff next to you, taking a seat by your side.

“Hey! You’re Y/N, right?” Robin smiled at you.

“U-Uhm, y-yeah. Mhm. Yep.” You stammered, your face heating up at the moment.

Robin let out a chuckle at your response, opening her computer. “So, England. Do you have a ruler in mind? I’m open to any.”

“Uh…” You cleared your throat, feeling a strange lump in your esophagus as you pushed it down. This was your chance. To talk to the one girl you never talked to before. Not because you were shy, well, maybe because you were, but because you never had the time to. This might as well be the only time you got to talk to her before she’d get swarmed by her friends and other desperate juniors. Might as well show what you got, right?

“I was thinking of Elizabeth I; I can think of some absolutist traits about her that could be worth a presentation.” You regurgitated each word out. You felt that strange lump again, as well as the urge to start coughing up a storm. You suppressed the urge to cough, as you waited for Robin to reply.

“That could work. Alright, let’s do Elizabeth I. I’ll share a document with you. You can type down whatever you already know about Elizabeth, and we can just add more information as we go, until we have a basis of the things we’ll talk about.” Robin replied. You reloaded your email, suppressing your urge to cough and your surprise at her reaction. That worked? You could just voice your opinion and she’d listen? That was certainly a development.

You opened the document Robin sent you, your fingers moving furiously as the urge to cough became much harder to suppress, the urge becoming much more unbearable.

“Hey, Robin!” A boy walked up to Robin, a big dumb grin on his face. “Which country are you doing?”

“England, Franky. Go back to your partner.” Robin chuckled, brushing him aside. The moment you heard Robin reply, the floodgates burst open. You coughed, as an onslaught of coughing ensued. It felt like you were vomiting, minus the vomit and the strain on your throat. The entire class fell silent at the sound of your cough, all eyes on you. You lifted your head up, removing your hand from your mouth as you let out a deep breath. The class went back to work, quiet chattering ensuing. 

“Are you alright, Y/N? That was quite the cough.” Robin looked at you, her brows furrowed and eyes filled with concern. “Do you need some water?” “I’m fine.” You replied, looking down at your palm. Three flower petals. You balled your fist, shoving them into your pocket as you looked at Robin with a tired smile. “I’m alright, thanks.”

Robin was not convinced at all, but she stopped asking, as she went back to work. “Alright then.” 

Your mind was racing, heartbeat pounding out of your chest. Shit. Shit. Shit. What the fuck was that? What in the fuckknuckles was that? How the fuck did I just cough up three fucking flower petals? I’m going insane. I’m actually fucking insane.

You spent the rest of class trying to work, writing a few lines just to not raise Robin’s suspicion and act like you were contributing.

Once the bell rung, you shoved your computer into your bag, your body shooting up like a rocket as you darted to the door.

“Wait, Y/N!” You paused in your tracks, moving backwards to face Robin. She still had a smile on her face, but by the way her eyebrows crinkled you could tell she was suspicious of your cough. 

“Yeah?” You responded.

“Message me sometime, alright? You already follow me on Instagram, right?” 

“Oh! Uhm, y-yeah. Sure. I’ll do that.”

“Cool. Hey, get that cough checked out, okay? That’s not a normal cough. Get better soon, okay? We have a presentation coming up.”

“I will. See you tomorrow.” You smiled at Robin, before booking it out of the classroom and out of the school. Immediately, the urge to cough disappeared. You reached your hand into your pocket, staring at the flower petals. You pulled out your phone with your other hand, opening a new browser as you searched for an answer to your symptoms. 

The fuck is hanahaki disease? You thought to yourself, clicking on the link as you read the entire article. Your heart dropped to your stomach, mouth open as you read the description.

You had a crush on Robin. And that crush was going to kill you. 

I just won’t think of her. That’s easy. Then I’ll stop coughing up flowers and I won’t die. That’s easy. You thought to yourself. Oh, how wrong you were. The entire walk back home, your head was clouded with the thought of Robin. The sound of her voice was already enough to make your knees buckle and hypnotized. Whether it was lust or love, she was on your mind. And she’d never go off your mind.

Shit… I have an entire group project I have to do with her… what do I do? Your mind raced for ideas, anything that could work, just so you wouldn’t have to come into contact with her or see her in person.

Nico Robin was going to be the death of you.

But somewhere inside your heart, you were content with that.

[moonmanatee]

Twenty Questions for Fic Writers

sweet @saintgarbanzo tagged me even though he knows I’ve got but the one lil fic! then it got lost in my drafts. this might be a bit silly but cool to see where I’m starting, maybe. thank you, chickpea! you can find his lovely answers here 🥰

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

just one: Sun Shower!

2. What’s your total AO3 word count?

5950

3. What fandoms do you write for?

so far just HP, but I’ve got some drafts of other stuff (some SOC, AML, etc) that I may or may not keep working on. I did just cannibalize my favorite line from a wesper wip for a drarry one sooo we shall see

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

haha! sun shower

5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

I do - commenting is probably my most favorite part of being a fic reader, so the comments section is important to me. there’s so much to love out there, and the comments are my favorite place to express it

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

none! don’t think I’m angst guy, really. I have some wips with pining, with complicated family feelings, with hurt, but it doesn’t quite feel like angst. and certainly won’t end that way!

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

well, surprise: sun shower has a pretty sweet ending. it feels like a beginning more than an ending, though.

8. Do you get hate on fics?

I haven’t! does it count if my partner is like ‘noooo, abandoning me for the laptop again’

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

hmm, I think my smut is overwhelming and reverent and enthusiastic and honest and probably a little excessive. and WANT. and kinky. once I share some you’ll have to let me know if this is accurate

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

my mind is always thinking in connections, but that usually comes out in AU form (drarry: grace & frankie! parent trap!! the beckhams!! wesper princess diaries 2 AU!!!), rather than like everyone showing up in the same scene. so no, i guess.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

nope!

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

nope!

13. Have you ever co-written a fic?

not yet, but I think I would really love this. I feel so much love about other people’s writing and so excited to share in ideas, so I feel like this format would be such a delight for me.

14. What’s your all-time favorite ship?

I don’t think I have one all-time, because once I love something I love it forever. so I just keep collecting more all-time favorites. but drarry I feel the most immense about and committed to, which is saying something because there’s very little I love that I don’t love immensely. and to be honest, my commitment to drarry is certainly because I love them as characters, but it is also about the community being so wonderful. so thank you, y’all, it’s really special here.

15. What’s a WIP you want to finish but probably never will?

so I had this completely bonkers idea that I call “avada banana tag” which is when someone dies everyone they avada-ed comes back to life, like banana tag. i.e. when Molly kills Bellatrix, we get Sirius back, etc (yes I know that only happens in the movie but bear with me for goofy concept reasons). like, the spell only holds as long as they do? makes it a pretty short-sighted way of killing someone. but that’s as far as the idea goes because it’s so absurd and messy, and I don’t think canon rewrites are something I’d know how to do justice. but I think it’s so funny and fascinating, so if anyone wants to run with it please feel free

16. What are your biggest writing strengths?

100% it’s coming up with ideas. you should see my idea dump document, it’s abundant in there. and maybe description, I hope, and sensory experiences

17. What are your biggest writing weaknesses?

I won’t call it a weakness but I have less experience with plotty things, and get really stuck in dialogue that feels off.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language?

I’m not fluent enough in anything else that I think I could do this myself, but as a reader I really love it, both when I do and don’t understand what’s going on. and I like communicating that they’re speaking in another language without just translating. I think I’d love to incorporate my other languages (spanish and ASL) into fic, and I also love when Draco speaks french. when it’s well done I think it’s so impactful!

19. What was the first fandom you wrote for?

I think it was actually someone else’s OCs, what feels like forever ago

20. What is your favorite fic you’ve written?

the one that’s still in my brain that I think about most days… it’s so very beautiful. I hope one day it makes it out of there!

though I love sun shower too. my first real guy, feels like a big deal, I’m proud of myself for doing it and actually sharing it!

I will tag @elskanellis, @getawayfox, @saintlupin, @rockingrobin69 if you want and haven’t already!!

[away-ward]

This isn’t a request more of a suggestion bc I know your writing doesn’t work like that but imagine a fic with Emmy talking to Will about her escapades with men over their time apart, or an ex of hers popping up idk I’m just so used to hearing about Will and his whore tendency’s I just want to hear about Emmy’s bc I know she was not celibate over the years, especially when he asked her if she ever had man in her mouth and she said she never had him in her mouth. I’d love to here even your thoughts on the matter. Ik that in one of your fics you wrote about Emmy being with her co worker in the past and Will was jealous about it.

Hey, thanks for the suggestion. To be honest, a request almost exactly like this is how I ended up with No Apologies. If you go back far enough, you’ll see I struggled with it back then. I’d probably struggle with it now, too.

I’ve recieved many requests/suggestions like this and I can understand why it’s popular. I really hope a fic writer comes into the fandom who is interested in this kind of plot, because I can see it doing really well.

I think part of the problem is that I’m just not interested in Emory trying to make Will jealous or upset. And this might be a controversial take, but I also don’t think Emory would try to do that. She has a tough shell, but inside she’s sweet and soft, and not interested in hurting others just because she can. If I were to make an honest attempt at a fic where they’re talking about it, it would be emotional and full of regret (on Will’s end; Emory doesn’t have anything to regret, but that doesn’t mean she wouldn’t also feel it.)

However, I can talk about why I don’t see what other people see when it comes to Emory’s potential body count being any kind of issue.

In Nightfall, Will says that he doesn’t care if anyone else touched her, she was his girl and that’s all that mattered.

Now, I know I just put up a large case for Will being a liar, but this is one moment where I think he was being truthful. He has a moment of clarity, where he’s able to tell what really matters and what doesn’t. While that moment might have passed, and he could find himself being jealous again, I think by the time they’re married, he settled with the things that have happened in the past and is ready to look forward. I don’t think he’s blind to the fact that nine years have passed, during which she could have done anything with anyone. What mattered is that they were finally in the right place and the right time, determined to see it through.

Maybe another hot take of mine, but Emory doesn’t have that high of a body count. I wouldn’t estimate more than five, and that’s stretching it.

I’ve discussed this briefly before. I feel Emory overestimated what college was going to be like for her. Maybe she thought that getting away from Martin would allow her to open up, but I see her still struggling to do that. A mixture of that’s simply who she is, trauma, and being heartbroken over Will leads to her not making strong connections. This is also confirmed in Nightfall when she’s able to make calls and realizes she has no one waiting on her. No one is missing her, which his a sad thought, but makes sense in a way.

It's totally possible that she’s attempted to have a “normal” life, going on dates or trying her hand at hook-up cultural, probably thinking similar to a lot of readers, “if Will can do it, so can I.” But there is a difference between her and Will, and I think she wouldn’t "enjoy" herself the same way he does.

The quote you mentioned, I didn’t take as confirmation, but instead as deflection. She doesn’t answer his question, only reminds him he never got that far.

A lot people point to that as proof she has more experience but I like to point to Rika, Banks, and Winter in return.

Rika’s body count was one before being with Michael. Banks’ was zero, and it’s unlikely Winter had sex with a man other than Damon, though we know she’s at least kissed others. None of them experienced any kind of learning curve where they had to improve their technique.

I’m not entirely sure if PD’s aim was to show that when it’s with the person “you’re made for” then everything will feel right and it’ll all fall into place. Or if they just didn’t want to write about women learning things or sex between a couple getting better with time or what. Regardless, I don’t see that quote or anything that Emory did with Will as proof she’s had a lot of experiences away from him.  

The way PD writes Will’s addictions lends to the idea that Women are grouped up with Drugs and Alcohol.

Since external relationships, or Will’s whoring around, seem to be linked with his drug use and drinking, it kind of points to that being a problem; one Will isn’t exactly proud of. I don’t see a scenario where Emory feels the need to bring up his past in a way to make him feel bad, or give him a taste of what he did to her by reminding him she had other people too. It would be the equivalent of reminding a recovering alcoholic of the horrible things they did when they were drunk. If you love someone, you don't just throw that in their face.

Emory accepted Will for who he was the day she asked him to marry her, his past included. It would be a shame if she were to keep this in her back pocket as a way get one over on him in the event of a fight.

And maybe my most controversial take: Emory doesn’t even think of those hypothetical men. Will does more than enough to satisfy her.

In Hideaway, Banks and Alex peek in on Will with another woman. Alex mentions that Will puts in the work in making his partner feel good.

In Nightfall, after Emory breaks Will out of prison and they’re in the back seat of the SUV, Damon parks and then, as he’s watching, says “Um…Wow. Okay.”

Damon.

Damon, who has watched Will with women many times before and has engaged with Will himself, sees the way Will goes after Emory, and this causes him to pause.

The first part I mention because it goes to the idea that Will might be the best lay of all the guys. It seems that he actually views the pleasure of his partner as a goal to achieve, as opposed to Michael or Damon who might view it as a curtsey on their part (except for with Rika and Winter, of course). Kai calls himself a “gentleman” but what does that even mean.

Point is, Will knows how to make people feel good. And now his focus and efforts are all towards Emory. Girl is livin' just fine.

I don’t think she would ever need a reason to conquer him this way.

I say all of this because whenever I get a request or an ask similar to this, it always comes across as if the goal is to make Will feel as bad as Emory did, to make him jealous of what she’s done. But I don’t see Emory going that low, and I don’t see a reason why she would. So writing something like that is a little difficult for me.

But like I said, if I were to take an honest crack at it, it would probably go something like

- The group is playing one of those truth or drink games (Will is sober so he always picks truth, but likes to all make it interesting by mixing it with like two lies and a truth).

-Emory pulls a card that is like “Reveal Your Body Count” or something and she immediately opts to take the shot. The group laughs it off, thinking it’s just Emory being private.

-Will senses the sudden shift in her mood, though she hides it well. He wonders if it’s the same thing that sting his heart. The reminder of the time they spent apart. The time they wasted not being together.

-It’s quiet on the way home. Will drives without seeing the road, lost in thought.

-Emmy, thinking he’s trying not to obsess over it, quietly whispers, “It’s probably not what you’re thinking.”

-Will looks over, seeing how she’s not making eye contact. He pulls the car over, coming to an abrupt stop that causes Emory to cry out.

-He turns to her and tells her that it doesn’t matter.

-Whatever she did to ease her pain or to enjoy her life, it wouldn’t change anything. Even if it were 50 or 100 or 500 men.  He’ll accept it because he loves who she is, and whatever she had to do to make her who she is.

-Whether she wants him to know, that’s her decision to make. He wants to know everything about her, but he’ll never force her to admit to anything she doesn’t want to. Never again will he put her in that spot.

-He'd tell her every time he remembers all the different women he used trying to forget her, he hates himself more, especially when he knows she’s aware of it. That he ever gave her the idea that someone else could have him the way she has him, causes him so much disgust sometimes he can’t look at himself. That she ever walked into a room and wondered, not if but how many women he’d been with…

-The number doesn’t matter; there isn’t a number high enough to make him hate himself less and there isn’t a number low enough that’ll make him love her more.

-Emory nods, because she didn’t know he still felt that way and maybe that’s for the best. She doesn’t know if telling him the right thing, but they did promise no more secrets between them and maybe it would make things better if he knew.

And because this is my head canon

-She tells him there were a few. She tried, at various times in her life, to see if she could the “normal” college experience, and get over it and move on, but it didn’t work that way. She wasn’t connecting the way she should; like she was there, feeling and seeing everything, but the experience belonged to someone else.

To me, this makes sense for her character; that she’d want a connection to make the moment real. It’s why Aydin went for her head before her heart. Emory connects with her mind, not her body. I think it would probably hurt Will more if he found out she had a close friend she’d been vulnerable with, revealed everything to, who’d been there when she graduated college and got a job and when her grandmother died. All those experiences that he’d never get because he was being stupid. He’s too familiar with the idea that sex can be meaningless, why would her having meaningless sex with some nameless fellows bother him? But anyway –

-She tells him and he’s quiet. Then he nods. Then he puts the car back in Drive, intending to pull away.

-Emory says wait. He looks at her, open and wondering, but not angry. She asks if he has any questions before the topic is closed.

-He pauses, considering. Finally, he looks at her again and says, “The only thing that matters is if they hurt you.”

-Emory’s heart swells, because of course that’s what he’s concerned with.

-“No,” she tells him. “The only thing they did wrong was not being you.”

And that’s how it would go for me. No jealousy, no rage. In my head, Will is already aware of just how much better Emory is than him, he doesn’t need to be reminded.

I also don’t think of his exploits nearly as much as some of the readers seem to. I just don’t care, because he wasn’t committed to Emory. He wasn’t doing anything that he didn’t have the right to do. If he had developed a romantic bond with someone and then Emory came back into his life and he tried to play one or the other, than would be an issue for me. But the way I see it now, Emory connects through her mind. Her developing that type of bond outside of Will would hurt him more. And Will is so causal with sex that him developing a romance outside of Emory would hurt her more. Neither one did that, so this isn’t a sticking point for me.

But I know it is for a lot of people and I don’t feel that my view is any righter than someone else’s. I do hope that a fic writer who wants to undertake that plot point comes in to give the readers what they want. It just won’t be me.

I’m sorry I can’t deliver. I still appreciate you coming to me and asking. Thank you.

-KO

[fancy-a-dance-brigadier]

⛅️🌧️🌩️☔️ (hey it's concerto for a rainy day! :D)

Concerto for a rainy day hell yeah!! Anyway, thank you so much for the ask, and I’m sorry that it took me a little while to get to it.

🌤️Share your favorite piece of dialogue from your WIP.

Here’s a brief conversation between Padmé and Qui-Gon from the Jedi Padmé AU!

“We can say a proper goodbye to Anakin, if it would comfort you. I know you consider him a friend.”

Padmé shook her head. “I wish I didn’t.”

“Because it hurts you to see him in pain?”

She hesitated, and she sighed out a gentle breath in an attempt to stem the tide of her tears. “Because if he wasn’t my friend, leaving him behind wouldn’t hurt so much.”

🌧️Share something angsty from your WIP.

Just to prove that I am actually writing fics that aren’t the Jedi Padmé AU, here’s a little extract from a Wolfwren oneshot I’ve been working on:

“If you bleed,” the girl began, lost in the mist of her own mind. “I cannot contain you.”

“What?” She was too tired to comprehend it, and the girl’s words mixed and melded into confusion. She could not help but chuckle in her light-headed delirium. “You’re not making any sense.”

“I want to be the only one,” she growled - and she thrusted forward, her face almost pressing against Sabine’s, breathing heavily into her air. “I want to be the only one who knows how to hurt you. I want to be the only one who knows the truth of how you died tonight.”

🌩️ Share something funny/cracky from your WIP.

I don’t know if I actually have anything for this one 🙈 If I eventually write anything cracky you’ll be the first to know about it!!!

☔Is there a fic concept you have that you'd like to just explain and share because you're not sure you'll ever write it? If so, what is it?

Ooh this is a good question! And be prepared because my answer is somewhat long 😅

I have vaguely entertained the idea of writing a T’Poshi Carbon Creek AU, where T’Pol comes to earth during the 50s/60s/whichever decade that episode was set and has to live undercover while slowly falling in love with Hoshi. Knowing me, I’d probably rope in the other characters from ENT too, because you know how much I love an AU with too many subplots 😂

Another one is the Voyager/DS9 crew swap AU, which is an idea I very much enjoy! I’ve had an outline of the ‘DS9 does Caretaker’ fic collecting dust in my draft for ages, and there’s also a partially complete ‘Voyager does Emissary’ outline lying around somewhere too. But it’s an AU with a lot of scope and would require a lot of different fics to tell the story fully, and since I’ve already lowkey committed to rewriting the entirety of Star Wars, it might be a bit too much to pursue seriously. But who knows! Maybe once I get the Star Trek brain rot again I’ll finish that ‘Emissary’ outline and start writing it.

Lastly, I have in fact been percolating a Star Wars Blade Runner AU, but it’s so vague and unformed in my brain that I don’t have too much to say about it at this stage. But I’m also hesitant to write this one because, like, Blade Runner is just so perfect. I almost don’t want to touch it in case I cheapen it somehow, if that makes sense??

(There are also a few that I’ve already discussed with you in DMs, like the ‘My favourite Star Trek characters get traumatised in the Mirrorverse’ AU and the Padmé lives AU, but I won’t bore you too much by repeating what I’ve already said in DMs!)

[sunnyrosewritesstuff]

The Marali Festival Commentary Part 3

WELCOME TO THE CHAPTER SECTION OF LAST MINUTE SUNNY DECISIONS!🤣 Chapters were getting written after I got home from school rather than posted beforehand. And I had to switch some chapters around last minute. Trust me it made more sense.😉 But more on that below.

**SPOILERS FOR THIS FIC BELOW**  

Chapter 7- Dance

I posted in the author’s notes here that I had the “Kingdom Dance” from Tangled playing on repeat as I wrote this chapter! It just seemed to work well. 

As soon as Bilbo was confident enough with the basic steps, she spun him out and into the arms of another dancer. Bilbo found himself hugely amused as Dori fretted and kept his eyes down so as not to accidentally hurt Bilbo. Then Bilbo was spun into another dwarf and then another. The rhythm picked up, and all of Bilbo’s worries over how well he was doing went by the wayside as he became lost in the music.

A clap here, two stomps, spin, and heel kick. Bilbo closed his eyes for only a moment, and when he opened, there was Thorin holding him in his arms. Bilbo panted, a large grin spread across his face as everyone around clapped in thanks for the wonderful dance.

Okay, I may have also been inspired by the actual scene as well.

Thorin continued to try to inch away as his protests grew in volume.

“Bilbo, stop…”

“It’s just one little dance…”

“I DON’T WANT TO DANCE WITH YOU!”

Bilbo’s hands dropped listly at his sides. Thorin’s expression swam with regret and frustration, but rather than explain his harsh words, he shook his head and stomped out of the halls.

Thorin...you done goofed. I really hoped that the anxiety he was feeling from the previous chapter translated over well. But this was certainly a chapter that I was mentally kicking myself for adopting this back and forth POV style. This chapter probably would have made more sense and flowed better from Thorin’s POV.

Chapter 8- Silent Communication

Okay so Thorin making it up to Bilbo was supposed to happen during the “Cooking Together” chapter, and “Silent Communication” was originally going to be after “Laugh Together” consisting of Thorin and Bilbo making goo-goo eyes at each other in the hallway. However, I realized I could get a lot more out of it with Bilbo giving Thorin the ‘silent treatment’ and moved this into place very last minute.

“Um…greetings…Your Majesty. I was told to inform you that Master Baggins wishes not to be disturbed at this time.”

Thorin leaned around the younger dwarf to see Bilbo glaring at him before ducking his head back down into his book.

“Tabor?” Thorin addressed.

“Yes, Your Majesty?”

“Move.”

Tabor is very loyal to Bilbo for all that he wasn’t actually in love with him. That was part of what sold him to go along with Fili and Kili was they promised it would make Bilbo very happy. Maybe I should write a Tabor POV??

Bilbo dropped the book just far enough to raise an eyebrow at him.

“I’m sorry.” He blurted.

Bilbo huffed and raised his book to hide his face once more.

“I was…unprepared to hear that particular tune, and I’m afraid I might have lashed out.”

The book slammed shut and came to rest in front of Bilbo as the hobbit rested one elbow on the cover, and his chin in his hand, glaring at Thorin with suspiciously glistening eyes.

I was weirdly proud of my descriptions of Bilbo here. I mean, he’s giving Thorin SO MUCH sass and attitude and he hasn’t said a word.😂

Chapter 9- Laughing Together

The Green Room was an entertaining space in the royal apartments of Erebor that Bilbo was informed once sparkled in the light of emeralds.

You can’t tell me Thror wouldn’t have an ‘Amber Room’. He probably had several: Emerald Room, Sapphire Room, Diamond Room, Gold Room...

“Arda Day.” Thorin blurted which all of them nodded and agreed as if that explained everything.

“Arda Day?” Bilbo repeated.

“I promise you’ll like it.” Was all the dwarf would say.

I can’t remember how detailed I got in this, but the garden Thorin gifts Bilbo on Arda Day was supposed to be a sort of ‘thank you for giving us a home’ so all the dwarves (plus Gandalf) were in on it. It becomes more romantic when he kisses Bilbo the night before.😉

“What I don’t understand is how you had a song like this all ready to go upon first meeting me.” Bilbo pointed out when they finished.

“It’s an old tune.” Thorin explained. “You replace a few words here and there, and considering the majority of dwarven names are two syllables it becomes ‘that’s what Fili the dwarf hates’ or ‘that’s what Bofur the dwarf hates’.”

“That’s what our Uncle Thorin hates.” Kili reminded cheekily.

“You had one for Thorin.” Bilbo asked, far too amused as the dwarf king threw his head into his hands in disbelief.

“Oh please!” Balin answered with a chuckle. “They had a new version every week depending on what Thorin made them do.”

“ Blunt the swords and dull the blade.” Fili started mockingly.

“Arrows littered all over the glade.” Kili chimed in.

“There’s no shine to these breastplates…that what our Uncle Thorin hates!” They screamed out together.

Okay, MONTHS in advance I realized that every dwarf in the Company had two-syllable names with the exception of Oin, but even that one could be stretched into 2 and therefore could be replaced in the ‘That’s What Bilbo Baggins Hates’. In fact, I had planned this scene so far in advance that I actually almost forgot it when it came to writing, and had to go back and add it in later.

Whelp, that’s it for this section. See you tomorrow for cute family moments and the reveal of the misunderstanding. 👀

[joekeeryswife]

coming in with another love island request!!

so the girls in the villa get sent footage from the boys at casa amor, Joe is one of the new boys and is in the villa with the girls right 😏

the footage shows readers partner snogging another girl and sleeping in bed with her after he had promised her his head wouldn’t turn and he was serious about her (all men r trash joe Keery is the only exception)

Joe doesn’t think she’s interested until it comes the time to pick whether you stay loyal to your partner and trust they come back single from casa amor or decouple with another boy and she picks him!!

Casa Amor - j.k

honestly Joe is the only exception! okay this was honestly so fun to write! all these love island fics are defo some of my faves to write so keep them coming in! i also used Caroline Flack as the main presenter because she is the OG and i miss her so much. i hope this was okay, thank you for the request <3

outfit ^

you and Molly were sat on the day beds, lounging around doing nothing. “i shouldn’t be saying this because i’m couples up with Tobi but Joe is more my type and i really like him. i feel bad though.” you ‘whispered’ to Molly as she plaited her hair. she nodded her head as she listened to you. “you know what, we have no idea what the boys are doing in Casa Amor and if you feel more attracted to Joe then i say go for it” she said. she wasn’t one of those girls who would judge you for your decisions and you were happy about that. you and Molly carried on with the conversation about Joe until you heard Anna shout that she got a text. her hand covered her mouth as she was the first one to watch the footage. “girls get here now” she shouted, you got up and walked briskly to her. she showed her phone to the girls and you all watched the footage.

your eyes widened at the sight of Tobi snogging another girl outside of a challenge and sharing a bed with her. you were shocked. you found Joe attractive but you hadn’t acted on it because Tobi had said that he would stay loyal to you and seeing that he hadn’t made your heart sink. just because you had an attraction to Joe didn’t mean you still didn’t like Tobi. Molly rubbed your back as she watched the footage in shock. most of the boys’ heads had turned and she felt bad for every single girl who’s boy turned. the footage finished and a few of the girls like Millie and Katie were crying because of the footage. you didn’t want to bring to light that your boy had basically cheated because you felt worse for the girls who were fully committed to that person.

you walked to the fire pit with Anna and Molly. “how you feeling y/n? i saw Tobi snogging that girl, i just can’t believe after four weeks his head turned” Anna said, shaking her head in disbelief. Anna honestly thought you and Tobi would get to the final but now, she was certain you wouldn’t stick with him. “obviously it hurts my feelings that it’s been four days and he’s already cracking on with someone else but i was saying to Molly earlier that Joe, the one on the bean bags with Ovie is a lot more my type so i’m probably going to get to know him. he caught my eye as soon as they came in so i might as well give it a go now.” you said, pushing your sunglasses up your nose. Anna nodded her head and spoke up again. “do you think you’ll tell him you’ll probably couple up with him or not?” she questioned, looking at you as you shifted in your seat.

“i don’t think i’ll make my decision till the recoupling. it may sound stupid but if Tobi came back in alone and i was with Joe, i’d feel awful” you said, looking down at your hands which were in your lap. “y/n. he basically cheated on you, what if you didn’t see that footage till you left the villa hmm? what would you do on the outside?” Molly said, butting in, Anna nodded in agreement. “you need to stop thinking about others and put yourself first now, go talk to Joe before Katie does, she said she has her eye on him and Jacob.” Anna said, building up your confidence. you sighed and nodded your head before you picked up your water bottle, walking to Joe who was still talking to Ovie, however you saw Katie walking up to him, luckily you got there first, making her turn around, walking back to Millie.

“hey guys” you said, sitting on a bean bag next to both Joe and Ovie. they said their hellos as you sat down. “Ovie can you come here please?” you heard Anna shout as she walked to the day beds, leaving you and Joe alone. “so, how you feeling after that video?” Joe said as Ovie got up and walked away. “well, he promised his head wouldn’t be turned and it did so i look like a mug. but oh well” you said, you didn’t come here to talk about Tobi, your wanted to get to know Joe more before the recoupling. “i’m sorry that happened, he shouldn’t of led you on like that” he said, running a hand through his hair as he spoke. you sook your head and spoke up, “please don’t apologise for him. i should have known he would do that” you said, not really interested in the situation anymore.

“anyway enough about that, tell me about you then. i feel like i haven’t really spoken to you since you got here.” you carried on, looking at Joe as he put on his sunglasses. “okay well, i’m 28 years old, i’m an actor. i’m also in a band and i sing.” he said. you didn’t expect anything less, he looked like a great singer and you’d always wondered what he did for work and now you knew. “i honestly can’t think of anything else to say, you’re making me nervous.” he whispered, just loud enough for you to hear. you laughed softly before speaking up. “why do i make you nervous?” you questioned. with Joe, you wanted to see if he was the right guy for you, and you making home nervous, definitely put some thoughts in your mind. “you’re a stunning girl and you’re speaking to me out of all the guys here so of course i’m going to get nervous” he said, shifting on the bean bag to look right at you.

you laughed loudly and you guys kept talking until Millie’s phone buzzed. “i got a text!” she shouted. you all looked at her and listened to her speak. “islanders, tonight there will be a recoupling in which the boys will come back from Casa Amor and you will decide if you want to stick with the boy you were previously coupled up with or if you want to recouple with another boy.” she shouted. you put your head in your hands stressed out. “hey, it’ll be alright. just have no regrets with the decision you make” Joe said, getting up off the bean bag to get ready, he put a hand out for you to grab and you did. he helped you out of the bean bag and you both walked to the kitchen where most people were standing, talking about the recoupling.

you had no idea who you were going to pick. of course Joe interested you and you really wanted to get to know him but you had been with Tobi since day one and sometimes it’s hard to let go. you left the conversation to go get into the shower. you needed to clear your head and sometimes a shower was the best thing for it. you did your normal shower routine and then started getting ready for the recoupling , comparing both situations in your mind. as you were doing your makeup, that’s when everyone else started to come up and get ready. after you were all ready, you, Molly, Anna and Amber all went to the terrace where you were asking their opinions on the situation.

they all said that you needed to recouple with Joe and that Tobi didn’t deserve someone as amazing as you. your head was in all different directions. you finished the conversation and walked down the stairs where everyone was off in their own conversations. as you were speaking to Ovie in the kitchen, he got a message that we all needed to gather around the fire pit and that the boys needed to stand in a line. you walked down and met Joe who was standing next to Ovie. “how you feeling?” Joe said just before everyone went to sit down. “i have no clue what i’m going to do” you said, he put a hand on your shoulder and squeezed it before you went and sat down next to Amber.

Caroline walked into the Villa, this was it. this was the moment where you had to choose what you wanted to do. Millie went first, she stuck with her couple and he came back single, then Molly went and he also stayed single, then Caroline called on Katie to go. she thankfully recoupled with another boy who wasn’t Joe, then it was you. “y/n, how are you feeling?” Caroline said as she looked at you. “these past four days have made me rethink everything i knew and it’s just crazy how one video can change a whole situation” you replied, running a hand through your hair. “now before Casa Amor you were coupled up with Tobi, you have four lovely boys in front of you here which you can recouple with or you can stick with Tobi. what are you thinking of doing?” she said, looking pointing to the boys then looking back at you.

you sighed and looked down. “seeing that video has definitely put things into a new perspective and i think if i go back to Tobi i would regret not recoupling with this boy so i’ve decided to recouple.” you said, waiting for Caroline to speak up. Joe looked up from the wooden floor and looked at you. he was the only boy you had really spoken to and he was hoping you would

pick him. the boys who had come back from Casa Amor looked at you shocked. they thought you would 1000% stick with Tobi and hearing that there was a video surprised them. “who would you like to recouple with?” Caroline said. “Joe.” you said smiling. Joe smiled and walked to you. you pulled him in for a hug and kept standing. “you guys already look perfect together, let’s see what Tobi has chosen to do” you put your hand around Joe’s waist and he put a hand around your waist and you heard heels clicking across the cemented floor.

you knew he had recoupled with someone from Casa Amor, most likely the girl in the video. he walked down the stairs, shocked to see you standing with another boy. “Tobi welcome back to the villa, how are you feeling?” Caroline said, looking at Tobi and the mysterious girl. “yeah good, glad to be back here” Tobi said, looking at you. “as you can see, y/n also decided to recouple, how does it make you feel and do you regret your decision choosing Camilla?” she said, still looking at Tobi and the girl, Camilla “it’s a bit strange seeing her with another man but i don’t regret my decision, Camilla is amazing and she’s beautiful” he replied, you scoffed and shook your head. “okay well we have two new couples- Y/n and Joe and Tobi and Camilla.” she said, there was an awkward chap which filled the garden.

you sat down next to Joe. “are you happy i picked you?” you said, looking at him. he nodded his head and said “i had no clue you were into me like that. i wanted you to pick me from day one”. you laughed silently and kissed his cheek. he blushed brightly and looked kissed your forehead. you had definitely made the right decision. Tobi was watching the interaction unfold in front of him. he got jealous immediately when he watched Joe kissed your forehead, regretting his decision. the recoupling finished and you went to say goodbye to the two boys. you and Joe then walked to the sofa which was opposite the fire pit. “i’m glad you picked me.” Joe said, grabbing hold of your hands. “am i still making you nervous?” you laughed, looking at him. he nodded his head and laughed as well. “i’m still getting butterflies when i’m around you” he said, looking into your eyes. “i get butterflies when i’m around you as well” you said. you decided to take one of the biggest risks you’d ever taken in the villa and kissed Joe on the lips. he instantly kissed back and put his hand on your cheek. “i can’t wait to get to know you more” he said, you nodded your head and kissed him again.

[kylie-writes-stuff]

Too Far

pairing: rodrick heffley x gn!reader ; greg x platonic!reader (but it's mostly a sweet family fic between rodrick and greg)

warnings: cussing, rodrick thinks greg ran away/is missing, rodrick's probably ooc, uh idk what else

word count: 1.7k (why is this the longest thing i’ve written-)

summary: (takes place during rodrick rules) y/n has been a good neighbor and friend for a while now. either of the heffley boys can go to them for anything.

a/n: im a strong believer in the fact that rodrick has a soft side and he truly cares about his little brother. he doesn't show it a lot but it's there. i love rodrick so much so i wanted to try writing for him. sorry if it's ooc but i dunno, i like it. let me know what you think :)

--

You were watching tv, no clue what just happened in the house down the street, when there was a knock on the door.

You got up, groaning. Who would be here this late? 

You opened the door, somewhat annoyed, until you saw that it was... Greg? 

It was Greg, the young boy from down the street, with tears in his eyes.

You immediately wrapped an arm around him, leading him inside, “Woah, kid, what’s wrong?”

As the two of you sat back down on the couch, he choked out an answer, “R-Rodrick.”

“What did he do this time? Want me to beat his ass for you?"

A small smile crossed your face when you were able to make the boy chuckle.

He explained that him and Rodrick had a great night together but things went bad once they got home. He said that their parents found the pictures from the party last week, which you had attended, and both the boys got it trouble. But that wasn't why Greg was crying. He was crying because Rodrick was disappointed in him and said some hurtful things.

You didn't push any further. Greg was a tough kid, most of the time, so whatever Rodrick said must've been really bad.

"Wait," you said after a few minutes, "Do your parents know you're here?"

"N-no. I snuck out."

"Greg, you can't do that," you said sternly. You weren't angry, just worried.

"You and Rodrick both sneak out all the time," He tried to reason.

"That's different. We're both old enough to take care of ourselves. No offense, but you're still just a kid. If your parents find out they're gonna be worried sick."

"Can I just stay for a while longer? Please? Besides if they find out I'm gone, they'll probably check here first."

It was true. Greg and Rowley would come to your house sometimes, just to have a different place to hang out. Your parents were away a lot of the time so it worked out.

You were Greg's babysitter when he was in 5th and 6th grade. Ms. Heffley knew you were a responsible kid and she didn't exactly want Rodrick in charge. Now he's in 7th and he's trusted a bit more so you didn't have to take care of him anymore. During that time was when you and Greg got close. The two of you became friends.

You had gotten pretty close with Rodrick too. Especially since you had a lot of the same classes in school. The two of you had similar interests so you would hang out sometimes.

Of course, you couldn't say no to Greg.

You two sat and watched whatever he wanted to watch. You told him that he could have whatever he wanted from the kitchen, it didn't matter. He immediately searched for ice cream, making you laugh.

Soon there was another knock on the door. This time you looked out the peep hole.

"It's Rodrick," you whispered to Greg.

"I'm not here!" He whispered back, running up the stairs.

You waited until he was all the way upstairs, before you opened the door, "Rodrick? Hey, what's up?"

He looked back at you with panicked eyes, "(Y/n), you gotta helped me."

You ushered him in, just as you had done with his younger brother not long ago, and you two sat down. "Of course, what is it?"

"Well I- me and Greg got into a fight I guess? I said some stuff I shouldn't have. I- Fuck, (Y/n), I messed up... I took it too far."

You gently put a hand on his knee, "Hey, relax. You're okay. What do you mean you took it too far?"

"I told him that... I said 'you might be my brother, but you'll never be my friend'. W-We got in trouble for something and I got mad at him. Obviously I don't mean it, i-it just kinda slipped out."

"Okay, well, we both how Greg is. I'm sure he'll understand if you just tell him and apologize. You two will be fine," you offered him a soft smile.

To your surprise, he shook his head.

"That's not what I need your help with."

"Oh," was all you could say.

"I went to check on him a while ago because he's never been in this much trouble, I wanted to make sure he was okay. Mom and Dad were already asleep. I- I went into his room and... and he was gone. (Y/n), I don't know what to do."

You pulled him into a hug, him quickly latching onto you. You gently ran your fingers through his hair. "It's okay Rodrick. I'll help you find him."

Of course, you knew where he was. But you wouldn't give away Greg's spot if he didn't want you too.

Rodrick looked up at you, "You will?"

"Of course, let me get a jacket and we'll go."

You went up the stairs and into your room, where Greg was sitting on your bed.

"Dude, he-"

"I heard all of it. I understand."

"Oh good," you said, waking to your closet to get a jacket, "So, do you forgive him?"

"Of course, he's my brother," The two of you smiled.

As you pulled on your jacket, you asked, "Well what do you wanna do? He's ready to go searching for you."

"Maybe you two can drive around for a while and come back, and i'll just be on the sidewalk around here? I don't know, I just don't him to get at you for lying." He suggested.

You thought about it, nodding.

"Okay... but be careful, alright? Stay in here for like 15 minutes, then you can go out."

You went back downstairs and grabbed your keys. Rodrick followed you out and into your car.

"He couldn't have gone far, right?" He asked, bouncing his knee up and down.

"Nah, i'm sure he stayed close. Lets just check the neighborhood, yeah?" You said.

You drove around, one hand on the steering wheel and the other on the center console where Rodrick was holding it tightly.

--

"H-he can't be gone. (Y/n), he can't!"

Of course, you haven't "found" Greg yet. Rodrick was freaking out.

You pulled over and pressed a soft kiss to his knuckles, his hand still in yours.

"Hey, Rod, it's okay. We'll find him, I promise."

Rodrick shook his head, his eyes becoming glossy. You felt bad for letting him believe Greg was really gone for so long, but you told Greg you'd stick with his plan. And you were true to your word.

"What if we don't?" His voice cracked.

"We will, I promise. But it's getting late and you should rest. We'll go looking for him first thing in the morning. I bet you he probably went to Rowley's house."

"Yeah... yeah, that makes sense," Rodrick nodded. "Thank you."

"You know I'd do anything for you. For Greg, too. I love that kid."

Rodrick smiled, hearing you speak so fondly of his younger brother. In that moment, he knew everything would work out.

You started driving back to the cul-de-sac you guys lived on. Rodrick leaned his head against the window and started to dose off, his hand still holding yours tightly.

Then you saw it. Greg walking on the sidewalk, just like he said he would.

"Rodrick! Dude!" You shook him awake.

"Huh? What?" He woke up, startled.

"Look!" You pointed over to Greg while pulling over.

Rodrick saw him and as soon as you stopped the car, he opened the door and stumbled out.

"Greg!" He called out to his younger brother.

Before Greg could even turn around, Rodrick had him engulfed in a hug. The display of affection obviously took Greg by surprised.

"Don't ever do that again," Rodrick paused, trying to come up with some sort of insult, "... dumbass."

"I won't, I promise."

You watched as the two brothers smiled at each other. A rare occurrence for sure, but a nice one.

Rodrick lightly pushed Greg towards the car and they both got in.

"Hey (Y/n)." Greg said from the back seat.

"Hey, kid, glad you're safe," You smiled back at him.

"Yeah."

"Had this guy close to bursting into tears," You snickered, gesturing towards Rodrick and trying to lighten the mood.

"Don't tell him that!" Rodrick mumbled as he nudged your arm. This only made you and Greg giggle more.

You saw a smile form on Rodrick's lips, despite him trying to hide it. Laughter was, indeed, contagious.

You poked his cheek, making him chuckle.

You started to drive towards the Heffley house, the mood in the car now light and playful. You pulled into their driveway and unlocked the doors.

"Go inside, twerp. I'll catch up." Rodrick said.

"Okay," Greg smiled, getting out and heading towards the door.

"(Y/n)... thank you." Rodrick said, his voice softer as he looked down at his shoes.

"For what?"

"I dunno, everything. I mean, who would get up in the middle of the night and help some loser look for their little brother?"

"Oh c'mon, Rodrick. I'd go to the ends of the earth for you or that kid. It's no big deal, really." You said.

"It is to me. Thank you," He finally looked up at you, and you could see the sincerity in his eyes.

"Anytime."

"Can I- um... can I try something?" He asked. His eyes darted away from you for a split second.

"Well, uh, yeah. Sure." You said, curious to as what wants to do.

Suddenly, Rodrick put his hand on your cheek and leaned in. You felt his lips press against yours softly and closed your eyes. The kiss lasted only a little bit, but it felt much longer.

You couldn’t lie. It felt amazing. Kissing Rodrick just felt so... right. It’s like your lips were made for each other.

He pulled back a little and you smiled, laughing softly.

"Is- Is that a good thing?" He asked.

"I dunno, you tell me."

You leaned in and kissed him again. He was quick to kiss back. Eventually you leaned back.

"You should get inside," Another kiss, "Don't want you getting in more trouble."

Rodrick's usual confidence came back and he smirked, "If it's for you, it's worth it."

"Shut up!" You laughed.

He chuckled and pecked your cheek, before walking to the door.

As you pulled into your own driveway, you smiled.

Your relationship with Rodrick Heffley had changed tonight. But you know it had changed for the better.

[mimzy-writing-online]

You probably know this by now, I don't know if you keep up with Whumptober, but one of the prompts this year includes "blindness". I'm not blind but based on your posts about writing blind characters, and based on how I would feel if one of my disabilities were used as a whump prompt, I'm not super comfortable with it. I was wondering what your thoughts are on blindness being a Whumptober prompt.

(unironically and with feeling) thanks, I hate it.

Yes, I’m familiar with Whumptober, but I’ve never participated myself and I haven’t seen this year’s prompts.

Edit: I later did see the prompts and check out the blog. I think it's a good set of prompts and I look forward to all the promising content, especially since some of my favorite tropes are there. To be clear before you read this, I have no problem with Whumptober2021 or whump in general. This is not the first time blindness has been included for a list of whump prompts, and it won't be the last.

This post directed at the concept of "blindness" as a whump prompt and why I think it's a bad idea. The intended audience is individual writers thinking about future projects.

The timing of this is almost too perfect because I read a fanfic earlier this week that would meet that prompt exactly. Tags included whump, blindness, and angst with a happy ending. Now whump, hurt/comfort, and angst with a happy ending are tags I enjoy reading, but blindness as whump has a specific message to it.

To explain that message, I want to discuss what whump is. Many readers are already familiar with the genre, but I think taking the specific definitions and picking apart what it means and what expectations we carry when reading whump fanfiction

Urban Dictionary defines it as: taking a character and putting them through physical and/or mental torment and is typically followed by the same character being treated for their traumas. To indicate the characters place in the situation they’d typically be called a whumpee (the character being hurt/comforted), the whumper (the character that causes harm and trauma), and the caretaker (the character designated the helping/healing/comforting the whumpee).

Fanlore has a page for whump that explains it in depth, including where it started in fanfiction, examples of whump, and even a list of “popular targets” in different fandoms. (Warning: you might find yourself called out on the popular targets list)

“The term whump (or whumping) generally refers to a form of Hurt/Comfort that is heavy on the hurt and is often found in gen stories. The exact definition varies and has evolved over time. Essentially, whump involves taking a canon character, and placing them in physically painful or psychologically-damaging scenarios. Often this character is a fan favorite…”

To add to that, I think an important detail is the distinction Fanlore makes between hurt/comfort and whump:

“While some communities and fandoms may use whump as a synonym for hurt/comfort, there is still a recognition that whump refers to darker and more extreme scenarios. And there are still whump fics been written that have very little, or no comfort at the end of the story.”

The big appeal of hurt/comfort is getting to both explore the darker sides of pain and then experience the catharsis of being taken care of, of being supported by your loved ones as you recover from the trauma. The character is the proxy for experiencing those highs and lows while you yourself are safe at home.

I personally don’t read much/any whump without some h/c involved, but I’m happy there are stories out there for people who do enjoy it. I’m not here to judge what you like reading or what you do to your characters.

What I want is to express how blindness, my disability, used as a whump prompt personally makes me feel and what message it sends to me, to others, and how that message affects my daily life.

Whump undeniably involves watching a character suffer through something painful and traumatic.

My use of the word “suffer” is what I want you to focus on.

Vision loss can be painful and traumatic. I personally developed an anxiety disorder in response to vision loss. Others experience depression. For some it might result in relapsing into old, maladaptive coping mechanisms like drug use, self harm, or eating disorders.

A big part of my anxiety was how people reacted to my vision loss. It was a cause of their stress. They were worried because they genuinely believed I would never live a happy life without normal vision, and that my life would only be struggle and pain.

I recently saw an old friend who hadn’t heard about my vision loss. The conversation was awkward, but the worst part was how they reacted as though I had experienced an insurmountable tragedy. And even when I assured them I’m happy with my life, they clearly didn’t believe me. They acted like I was just lying or in denial.

I love that people want to empathize with my situation and ask themselves what they would do in my situation, but I hate when the conclusion they come to is something along the lines of “I could never do that, I’d be too miserable thinking about everything I lost, I’d never be able to do anything I enjoyed ever again.” But I did go blind. And I’m not miserable, I’m actually happy with the direction my life is going, and I still enjoy my hobbies, even if I engage with them differently.

I’m not suffering. My life didn’t end with vision loss. It’s not ruined, broken, or worthless.

I read a fanfic that was tagged with whump, blindness, and angst with a happy ending. A general synopsis of the plot: the whumpee had gone blind due to a curse. It was true love’s kiss that broke the curse. Even from the summary I knew it was going to end with whumpee being cured somehow and that I’d leave that fanfic vaguely dissatisfied no matter how good the rest of the fanfic was.

I can say this for the fanfic: the whumpee had already accepted that they would likely be blind for the rest of their life, but everyone around them was treating it as a tragedy that needed to be fixed, working tirelessly for a cure despite the whumpee’s protests that they didn’t have to.

It actually hit home to my personal experience.

I still left it dissatisfied with the ending. I might love curse fics in that fandom, and I love the “true love’s kiss” trope, but it wasn’t enough to distract me from the fact that: an actual person out in the world thought the best happy ending, maybe the only happy ending, would be if the character got their sight back.

(note: I clicked kudos and exited out of the story's page because no fanfic writer deserves unsolicited critique or hate, especially for content I consumed for free and at my own volition.)

Why read a story I knew would disappoint me?

Because blindness representation is so damn rare that I feel like I’m wandering in a desert, dying from thirst and desperate for that oasis. But sometimes that oasis is a mirage and the author is unintentionally telling you that your life is actually awful and you’ll never be fully happy like this. And that is a shit mentality to walk through life with.

I don’t appreciate blindness being a whump plot. I hate it. Hundreds (thousands?) of fanfictions featuring blind characters are about to enter the internet and the overall message is going to be “You poor thing! You must be in so much pain, you must be miserable! Who’s going to save you? Who’s going to comfort you? Wouldn’t it be terrible if there was no one in your life to take care of you? You poor helpless thing!”

And I feel objectified. I feel trivialized. The mirage in the desert is going to become a starch, empty room filled with dozens of water bottles, almost all of them poisoned. My representation is going to hurt me personally, and it’s going to reinforce that idea strangers have about how awful my life must be.

(I returned to school this past month, and every day I’m hesitant to tell someone I’m visually impaired because I don’t want to be treated differently. If I’ve managed to pass as sighted this whole time and then suddenly reveal “oh yeah, I’m visually impaired” I feel this instant silence, this pause of awkwardness as people suddenly question how they’re supposed to treat me. They treated me like a person, and now I’m something strange and unfamiliar.)

I’ve worked so hard to improve representation for blind people, to give internet strangers the exposure to a blind person they need to normalize blindness because I hope that if they’re ever so lucky as to meet a blind person, they’ll treat that person with respect. That hope that another person in the blind community will find a friend they feel comfortable and accepted with. I hope that I’ll meet people who accept my blindness as just another aspect of me (like being bisexual or gender fluid or a writer or a cat lover).

Please don’t turn me and my community into a caricature. Don’t erase everything I’ve worked for with this blog.

To be clear, this is not just me saying "I hate the cure trope" again. This is me saying "the purpose of whump is to painfully hurt your favorite character, and I hate that your idea of pain and suffering is my daily (wonderful) life."

[sapphosthoughtsandwritings]

if it’s not too much to ask please please please could you write more avengers x teen!reader? I adore the one with fear of the dark and was wondering if you could do something similar? Like either the avengers comforting the reader or just something with lots of hugs and cuddles? Thank you!! <3

Stage Fright - Avengers x anxious!teen!Reader

Summary: When your presentation for class goes terribly wrong, your team mates come to rescue you and take you home.

Warnings: depictions of anxiety, panic attack, a few cuss words

Type: angst, ends with fluff

Word Count: ~2.5k

A/N: MY FIRST REQUEST, very exciting!! I am so so glad you liked my work, and I hope you enjoy this one as well!! <3 I also have quite a few more ideas for teen!Reader fics, so this definitely won't be the last piece like this!

(Y/l/n) = your last name

(f/d) = favorite drink

You’d been dreading this day for weeks now. Clutching the straps of your backpack, you let out a deep sigh, walking up to the doors of your school. You didn’t like school to begin with, but the building seemed much more intimidating today. Making your way through the halls, you were grateful that you got to school early, you hated pushing through crowds of people.

“Hey, hey (Y/n)!”, a voice called from down the hall. You recognized it almost immediately. “Hi Peter, what’s up?”. You were happy to see him, maybe talking out your nervousness would help. “Oh, you know, just the same old stuff. Sure am tired though”. “Well, if you don’t sleep then you will be tired”. “Like you’re one to talk (Y/l/n)”. You only rolled your eyes and stuck out your tongue at him, evoking a chuckle from him. “How about you? How are you doing?”. “Ugh, not great. I have to present that project today. Not particularly looking forward to it”, you huffed, looking down to the ground as your anxiety increased at the thought of presenting alone. “Hey, I’m sure you’ll do great. Most people don’t pay attention to presentations anyways”, he assured you. You popped your knuckles, still feeling just as nervous. You knew he was right, but that didn’t stop the fear surging through you. “Yeah, I know. I just don’t want to do it. Maybe if I wait long enough, there won’t be any class time left for me to present”, that was your hope, and your only plan to get out of this without panicking in front of the whole class. “Maybe, well regardless, I hope it goes well”, he offered you a sincere smile. “Yeah, I hope so too”. “Well, I should probably head to class, see you at lunch!”. “Right back at ya, Parker”, you waved gently to him as he disappeared down a hallway.

You made your way to your first class, deciding to read a bit before class started. Nothing you did eased the gnawing anxiety in the back of your mind though. Your first two classes were easy enough, but it was hard to focus, your mind racing with intrusive thoughts. ‘What if my voice gives out? What happens if I start crying in front of everyone? God, the whole school will hear about it. Everyone will stare at me, whisper about me every time I pass by them. I can’t do this, I just can’t’. By your third class, you’d bitten your nails down to blood, your lips suffering the same fate, cracked and split open. You almost considered skipping, but you’d worked hard on this project, you couldn’t let that go to waste. So, taking your seat in the back of the class, you tried breathing techniques, anything to help calm your senses. Your leg bounced so much, you swore the floor would give out under your foot.

The teacher turned out the lights, letting people present their projects voluntarily. You calmed the tiniest bit. If someone randomly kept volunteering to present, the class time was sure to run out before you even got the chance to stand up. Throughout the class, you were on edge, chanting silent prayers in your head. You weren’t very fortunate though, as everyone presented quickly, making it apparent that you were going to have to present no matter what. “Alright, who hasn’t gone up yet?”, your teacher called out, looking at her grading sheet. ‘Oh my god, please don’t see my name. Please tell me I don’t exist. Let me just disappear. I can’t do this’. “Oh! (Y/n) still hasn’t presented, come on over and I’ll pull up your project”, your teacher chirped.

Your heart pounded painfully hard in your chest, slowly standing up on jelly legs, keeping your gaze down as you walked to the whiteboard. You couldn’t possibly do this. You were going to die. Every mission you’d ever gone on seemed so miniscule in this moment, as you looked out to your peers. It was too dark to see most of their faces, which only made your situation worse. Your teacher pulled up the project on the projector, gesturing to you to start presenting, as she clicked her pen, ready to write down every mistake you made.

Letting out a jittery breath, you clasped your sweaty hands together and began talking. You were shaking so badly, it was like an earthquake had erupted inside of your body. You could feel the tears threatening to spill past your eyes, leaving a hard pain in your throat. Your chest hurt, and your breathing was becoming more erratic. But you had to finish, you had to get this over with. Just as you were on one of the last slides, a voice called from somewhere in the class, “Hey, pipsqueak! Speak up, would ya? We can’t hear you back here!”. The comment elicited a few snickers, which your teacher hushed quietly, but the damage was already done. The room was suddenly shrinking around you, as your chest tightened even further. You bit your lip, trying your best to compose yourself, attempting to push down your anxiety, but it only pushed back up more violently. “(Y/n)? You still have a few slides left”, your teacher said, but you didn’t hear her. Instead, your fight or flight instincts took over, and you raced out of the classroom, tears now breaking free, streaming down your face. You headed to the nearest bathroom, locking yourself in a stall, your whole world crumbling beneath you.

Leaning against the door, you slid down, breath caught in your throat, fighting to get out, but to no avail. Instinctively, you brought your knees up to your chest, clutching at the seams of your pants, letting out choked sobs and broken coughs. There was only one thing you could think of that might help you, and that was your teammates. You pulled your phone out of your pocket, continuing to shake violently, as you clicked the emergency contacts, thumb pressed to the first person, which just so happened to be Bucky. You lifted the phone to your ear, barely hearing the ring, despite your call volume being all the way up.

Bucky saw your name pop up on his phone, panic surging through him. You never called, it made you too anxious. He answered instantly, “(Y/n)? (Y/n), sweetheart, are you okay?”. His sudden panic mixed with your name caused both Steve and Sam to stand by him, all of them mentally preparing for an emergency. You wanted to reply, but all that came out was a squeak, as your fist collided with the tiled floor, your oxygen levels becoming more scarce by the second. Bucky put his phone on speaker, letting all three of them talk to you. “(Y/n), doll, you gotta breathe okay? Through your nose, count on your fingers”, Bucky stated, trying to keep his voice steady for you. “Yep, deep breaths (Y/n), you’ve got this. You’re gonna be okay”, Steve reassured you. After about 10 minutes of the three of them gently coaxing you out of your panic attack, you calmed slightly, leaving you crying quietly.

“We’re almost back at the compound, we’ll come and pick you up in about 20 minutes, okay?”, Steve said, giving no room for protests, although at this point you weren’t going to object. You wanted to go home. “Okay, I guess I should get back to class then”, you murmured, realizing that you’d probably been gone for over 15 minutes now. It was weird no one came to look for you, but you weren’t complaining. “If you aren’t ready to go back kid, that’s fine. We can stay on the call as long as you need”, Sam mentioned, his voice sounded beyond concerned. You had a bad habit of not taking care of yourself, especially in times of crisis. “No, I’ll be fine, gotta go back to get my stuff anyways”, you were dreading going back. The whole class would be focused on you for sure, not to mention the faux sympathy from your teacher, something that would surely cause another flood of tears. You just wanted to go unnoticed, for everyone to ignore your presence. “Alright, if you’re sure”. “I’m sure, I’ll see you guys soon”, you weren’t sure, but you had to convince them, you knew too well that they’d cause a scene at the school if things got worse. “Okay, stay safe sweetheart, we’ll be there as soon as possible”, Steve stated, before Bucky reluctantly hung up the phone.

Letting out a deep sigh, you pushed yourself up, groaning slightly as you forced your stiff body to move. You stepped out of the stall, silently thanking the universe for not letting anyone walk in during your breakdown. You looked to one of the mirrors, finding a disheveled figure staring back at you. You grabbed a paper towel, dampening it in the sink, and gently washing the dried tears off your face. You fixed your clothing and washed your hands, before making the godawful trip back to class. There was only 5 minutes left for the class, but that was more than enough time for shit to go wrong. You stood outside the door for a minute, taking a moment to compose yourself.

Turning the handle slowly, you eased your way past the door, the lights now on. Just as you expected, all eyes turned on you, but most turned away quickly, looking back to their friend or their phone. That lifted your nervousness a bit, as you started to head back to your desk, but your teacher had other plans, as she cleared her throat, motioning for you to go and talk to her. You cussed quietly to yourself, could this day get any worse? You dragged your feet over to her desk, biting your now scabbed lip. “So, your project was very good, therefore, I’m going to give you a 90, but I have to dock 10 points for your presentation”, she spoke quietly and sternly. Your face grew hot with her words, tears swelling in your eyes again. She was taking points off for something that you couldn’t control? It pissed you off to say the least. You only looked away from her desk, nodding slightly, knowing better than to open your mouth. “Alright then, you can go and pack up your things”. You walked quickly back to your desk, putting the few things you had taken out back into your backpack, before the bell rang for lunch. Dashing out of the class, you headed straight for the front of the school, more than ready for the day to be over. You’d email your 4th period teacher later on what work you missed out on. On your way, you made sure to text Peter, letting him know everything that happened, and that you wouldn’t be there for lunch.

You only had to wait for a few minutes, as Sam walked through the doors, spotting you quickly and walking over to you. “You alright kid?”. “Yeah, I’ll be fine, jus’ want this day to be done already”. He nodded, following you to the front office, signing everything to excuse you for the day. He kept a close eye on you the whole time, a protective hand placed on your shoulder. Stepping out of the building, he led you to the car where Bucky and Steve awaited. You got into the back seat, Sam sitting in the seat next to you.

“Hey doll, you feeling alright?”, Bucky quizzed, angling his body to look at you. “Yeah, ‘m glad you guys offered to pick me up though. Don’t really think I could’ve lasted another class”, you fidgeted with your hands, you knew your nerves wouldn’t calm for a while, but at least it was manageable now. “We’re always here for you, kid, no matter what”, Sam assured you, patting your shoulder softly. “Mhm, you can always come to us, even if we’re on a mission. Our job can always wait, your well being is more important than anything”, Steve added, looking briefly to you in the rearview mirror. “Thank you for that, you guys are the best”, you smiled bashfully. “No need to thank us, jus’ doing what’s right”, Bucky stated. “So, whatcha feel like doing when we get back?”, Sam asked. You thought for a moment, doing anything social sounded horrible at the moment, and the weighted blanket in your room was calling your name. “How ‘bout a pizza and movie night?”, you inquired, knowing they’d all like the idea, hell the whole team would probably join in. “Sounds good to me”, Steve mused, he always liked time for the team to bond. “Me too”. “Me as well, I’m starving dude”, Sam quipped, causing all of you to chuckle.

It didn’t take long to get back to the tower, all of you heading inside, you going to your room to set your stuff down and to change into something more comfy. After changing, you grabbed your weighted blanket, wrapping it around you, heading back down to the common room. Word must’ve spread fast, cause the whole team was gathered there, everyone sitting in a designated spot, except for Tony, who was currently ordering pizza over the phone. “Hey, there they are, rough day at school?”, Natasha asked, giving you a warm smile. “Yeah, not the greatest”, you huffed out a small laugh. “Well, in that case, you get to choose the first movie draga”, Pietro looked up at you from his spot on the floor. You hummed in response, before placing your decision on one of your favorite comfort movies. Clint started to look it up on the various streaming services, finding it almost instantly. “This one, right?”. You nodded happily, making your way over to sit between Steve and Wanda. “Hey, kiddo, you want a drink? And I’m guessing you want some extra garlic breadsticks too, right?”, Tony asked, holding his phone away from his mouth slightly. “Uhh, I’ll have a (f/d), and duh, of course I want garlic breadsticks”. “Yeah, what type of question is that?”, Pietro chimed in. Tony scoffed at him, rolling his eyes, but continued placing the order.

Wanda opened her arms next to you, allowing you to curl into her side as her arms wrapped softly around you. You stretched your legs out, Steve placed them on his lap, gently rubbing his thumb over your calf. Your nerves were finally winding down, as Clint pressed play on the movie. Wanda kept an arm wrapped around your back, her other hand resting gently on the side of your head, making sure to keep you close. The pizza arrived shortly after the movie had started, and you grabbed as much food as you wanted. You deserved it after the day you had. After the first movie finished, and the team voted on a new movie to watch, you felt yourself begin to drift off. You couldn’t have imagined a more perfect setting, comfort and warmth surrounding you. You didn’t make it far into the second movie before you fell asleep, listening to the sound of Wanda’s heart beating, the events from earlier that day flooding away, leaving you to sleep peacefully, knowing that you were safe and sound.

[unoriginalmess]

A Second Mask: Chapter 4

Did that just happen?

Hello guys! It's me. I'm finally writing again. Sorry about the delay. I'm going to explain more at the end of the chapter, but I'm just going to keep the beginning short. So here is chapter 4:

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To say Adrien was concerned would be a huge understatement. He was downright disturbed. Its been weeks and still Marinette hadn't changed back to the happy, peppy, nice girl that he knew. AND SHE WOULDN'T EVEN TALK TO HIM ABOUT IT!

He tried to talk to her for a whole week after her original trasformation, but after the repeated firm rejections, he stopped altogether. He figured that maybe with some space, she might be able to work through whatever she was going through, but at this point, he's losing hope.

When he is feeling this distressed about something, he usually turns to his lady, but she has been acting weird too. Ever since she suggested they start sparring, she's started to show that she is going through kinda a rough time as well. She is the same ladybug when everyone is watching, but when it's just the two of them, she looks sad and tired. She has also started saying some concerning things while they are sparring. She has started talking about how she has started taking being Ladybug and the Guardian more seriously, and how she has less distractions now, which would be a good thing if she didn't say them so sadly.

The good thing is, the sparring has given him a chance to get out his aggression because of the whole Marinette-situation and his anger at his father in a safe environment. He didn't like the idea of hitting Ladybug at first (especially in the face) but with her not holding back on her hits, he felt more comfortable doing the same. It has helped them fight better too. He hopes that whatever Ladybug is going through in her civillian life will work itself out soon, but until then he will be there for her. He just needs to figure out how to be there for Marinette.

•••

Felix was making good progress with Marinette. After they first asked marinette about (insert fashion question of your choice here, I legit know nothing and I didn't have time to research anything for this chapter), she had started answering their questions on a daily basis. After a couple of days of that, she had started to rant to them about different things in the fashion world that were bothering her, exciting her, or confusing her that particular day. In response to that, they had started to respond to her rants with their own opinions on the subjects and even start their own rants.

It had gotten to the point where Felix would now consider them to be friends, though they know that Marinette would never call them as such, it was fine with them. They know she has trust issues, and they can understand why, so they are fine with being friends in everything but a name.

Felix was looking forward to their daily banter as they waited in their seat for Marinette to arrive. When she did, she was followed by a very pissed-looking Alya. Felix turned to look at her and noticed that she had what looked to be tears forming in her eyes. What they didn't notice was the little black butterfly that had entered through the window in the back of the room, and was making a beeline towards her.

•••

Marinette walked to school in yet another one of her newest fashion creations: a pair of oversized grey ripped jeans and a navy blue sweatshirt. She was actually really liking her new look, and the comfort that it offered was just an added plus.

She was actually feeling excited to talk to Felix about Gabriel Agreste's newest fashion flop. They were the only person that she had met that actually cared about fashion as much as her. It made her happy to talk to them. It kind of scared her how excited she was. Shouldn't she be distancing herself from everyone? she thought to herself. No. Felix isn't my friend, they aren't close to me, they are just someone I talk fashion with. Like a coworker, yeah. Totally. Felix is just a coworker. ("Liar" says the inner voice in her head)

She was shocked out of her thoughts when she was pulled to the side by someone as she entered the courtyard. Her mind immediately thought of an akuma, when the person spoke.

"Marinette! Girl," Oh it's just Alya. Wait Alya? "How long are you gonna keep up this cry for attention? Are you really THAT jealous of Lila? I know that Adrien likes her, but that doesn't give you the right to act like this! And you are hanging out with Felix, who accused her of sexually harrassing Adrien on their first day here-?" She looked absolutely furious at her, but Marinette had heard enough. She cut Alya off in the middle of her presumably long rant.

"ALYA!" Said girl jumped at both the inturruption and the tone of voice used, "First of all, this isn't a cry for attention, if anything its a cry for leaving me the fuck alone. Second of all, I'm not jealous of Lila. I'm not in love with Adrien anymore, and haven't been for a while. You knew that I was dating Luka right? Why would I care who Adrien likes? Lastly, I am allowed to hang out with whoever I choose, whether you like them or not. It's none of your fucking business Alya, and if you think that I'm just some jealous, attention-seeker why do you even care?" With that last question she stormed off to the classroom, leaving a speechless Alya behind her.

When marinette sat down in her seat, she just kept thinking about how Alya was just talking to her. How could she think that about her? They used to be best friends, and Alya wasn't even concerned about her not talking to her anymore, she was just concerned about her being "jealous of Lila". It made her so furious that she could feel tears trickling down her face. She sees the black butterfly out of the corner of her eye and without hesitation grabs it out of the air.

(Next part is taken from this post by @bigfatbreak)

"Go ahead and akumatize me- See what happens, Hawkmoth!" She screamed the words with a slight madness that the energy of the akuma was giving her, "Every leash has two ends! I just have to pull until I find where you're holding it!"

At this point, the entire class was frozen in place watching her and listening to her crazed-sounding voice threaten an actual terrorist. Marinette felt Hawkmoth's confusion and terror through the bond. What in the- She's sensing me through the Akuma?! The akuma then started to fly away, and when it couldn't it zapped her hand like it was made of lightning and fluttered through the same window it came from. Marinette felt like she had failed yet again and collapsed down on her desk, muttering, "Uuuuggghh. It escaped anyway... What a waste. I didn't realize that Hawkmoth was such a coward. He usually likes grandstand..."

She was startled when her hand was picked up by Felix's, "You likely scared him off by managing to locate him like that... A risky move, I should mention. I would ask that you not attempt that a second time. No one knows what his akuma is truly capable of. You'll want to keep off of this hand for a while, too."

"Oh, are those the doctor's orders? Why, Felix, it almost sounds like you care about meeee." Marinette was all too amused by Felix's concern for her. She also liked to tease them... AS COWORKERS DO.

"I have an investment in your presence. Now don't be cheeky and let's get you to the nurse's office," They said while holding her wrist and gently pulling her in that direction.

Marinette scoffed, "'An investment in my presence'??"

Felix chuckled while still semi-dragging her by the wrist towards the front of the room, being careful not to hurt her injury even worse, "What did I just say about being cheeky?"

On their way out of the door they passed a VERY distressed-looking Adrien. He seemed to be sharing the sentiment with the entire class of: Did that just happen?

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And thats chapter 4. It is VERY LATE! I know. I've been swamped with work, and when I went to write it, I had zero ideas on how to write this chapter. I never ended up getting those ideas. I just went where my writing took me, so if it doesn't really match the characters that's why. I will try to be better at updating regularly, but it probably won't happen. Sorry to everyone with a normal sleep schedule, but this is the time that I write things. Also I didn't have my outline with me while writing this chapter, so it might not have everything I planned to write in it.

I would like to thank you all for all of the support I've been getting on this fic. Despite all of the chapter delays, you guys have stuck with me through all of it, so thank each and every one of you. I love seeing so many people loving this au as much as I do. Without you guys this story wouldn't exist, and I would've stopped writing it after the first chapter.

As always, constructive criticism is always accepted. I love being able to improve my writing whenever possible.

Thank you for reading. Have a nice day/night/whenever you are reading this. See ya next time guys, gals, and non-binary pals.

Taglist

@queer-illusion @apasponsor @heckinggremlin @1-ahiro-1 @hewantedbeefintheparkinglot @sassakitty @lennauts @rianoel @dorkus-minimus @khneltea @welp-that-was-unexpected @mlnchlymrshmllw @lovelyautumnsunflower @chariphrasis @lovesbooks @komatsuna-yuki @polyvirnl @innocentlyguiltyfrenchfry @qhobias @ive-tumbled-down-a-rabbit-hole @hammalammadamdam @cloudydaysomewhere @alcoholic-barney @basenikon @xxbehindthemaskxx @corporeal-terrestrial @shadowymemoirs @moonlight-densetsuu

[thebeautyoffanfics]

hii i know you might be busy because of school so take your time! Could i please get a Dead!Mitsuba,,,Dead!Hanako,,,Dead!Tsukasa,, x reader (if you dont want to write for them characters right now than you can choose others i dont mind <3) where they think reader is dying??Any situation is fine :)

dead!mitsuba sousuke x gn!reader, dead!hanako x gn!reader, dead!tsukasa yugi x gn!reader

a/n: ahh thank you for being patient;;! And of course!! Thank you so much for requesting, and I hope this turns out alright! And I’m so sorry for the time it took;;

aahhh i constantly remember how difficult starting and ending fics are,,, sorry if it sounds awkward ;v;; i’m also sorry if this isn’t dramatic enough- i’m trying to get these out, but i’m in a funky phase, as i haven’t written in a while;;

warnings: vomit (in Hanako’s), blood (in Tsukasa’s)

word count: 2,765

mitsuba sousuke <3

It wasn’t uncommon for Mitsuba to watch you do everyday school things. He’d follow you around, playing it off as if he wasn’t. Even now, he sat under a tree, watching you assist one of the clubs.

You were always entertaining… or maybe, you were simply enough to captivate his attention in anything you did? Your arm held high as you caught the baseball tossed your way, grinning at the person who threw it. Though not fond of you smiling like that at another person, the glance you gave Mitsuba practically made up for it- though he still glanced away, as if he wasn’t looking in the first place.

Moments passed, before he peered back up at you.

Your smiling face, as you turned to speak to one of the club members- his eyes darting over at hearing someone yell your name.

“(Y/N)!! WATCH OUT-”

And, eyes back over at you, as the undeniable sound of a baseball smacking against a skull. Mitsuba froze up, only being able to watch as you toppled to the ground. The club members instantly panicked, and Mitsuba did the same- both he and the members running over to you, students shaking you as if that would do anything.

“Idiots!! Don’t shake them-!”

Unfortunately, all of his yelling was futile. Mitsuba was dead, after all, and he was sure that you were too. A bump already formed on your head, as you peeked your eyes open, reaching for your head. Your fingers grazed against the bump, then quickly retracted, as tears filled your eyes. Shouts from the club members to get an adult rang out, as Mitsuba placed his hands on your shoulder, shaking almost as violently as you were. You closed your eyes, shaking as you reached to your head again, only to retract once more.

“(Y-Y/N), it’s okay- a-are you okay?” Mitsuba stuttered out, trying not to get emotional. It was only an injury, right… you were fine. You had to be. You’d be fine. Right?

But, when you only shook your head, squeezing your eyes tighter, he couldn’t help the pure fear that filled his entire body. His eyes grew watery when a teacher finally arrived, already on the phone with, he hoped, the paramedics.

Too much time passed, Mitsuba thought. Too much time spent grasping your hand, tears threatening to spill, as the teacher asked you too many questions. And, the absolute dread at the teacher’s reaction to everything- hearing you attempt to explain that everything went black for a moment- seeing the teachers eyes widen a bit, then eyebrows furrow in frustration. Mitsuba wanted to scream. To yell at whoever threw the ball- he didn’t care if it was a mistake. To yell at the paramedics- it was an emergency! Why couldn’t the emergency vehicle get there sooner??

Finally, they arrived. Paramedics picking you up, Mitsuba following alongside them until you sat in the vehicle. His eyes flickering from person to person, then back at you, until they shut the doors and drove off.

The next few days were like a living hell for Mitsuba. No- he wasn’t living. It was as if he had been doomed to suffer for all eternity. He shook every time he walked past your homeroom, peering inside as he checked for you. Peering over at your desk, praying that he wouldn’t see flowers sitting there. The lack of flowers was the only hope Mitsuba had left. The lack of rumors, the lack of Sakura one day opening up the broadcast with “(Y/N)-san of the baseball field.” It sounded ridiculous, sure, but he couldn’t help it…

Yes, though he’d never say it to anyone- maybe you, but that was a stretch- Mitsuba had never been so worried… he thought, as he finally saw you again, clinging to you as if you were as fragile as glass- that your death would probably affect him worse than his own did. Because, a world without you, would officially be a world without life… without you, Mitsuba knew he could no longer even feel alive.

“You idiot… I hate you so much,” His voice broke slightly, as you wrapped your arms back around him. Much like the moment when he was so sure you wouldn’t show back up, tears threatened to spill. “I missed you. Dummy. I missed you so much-”

hanako <3

There was a part of Hanako slightly paranoid about your death. Not overly so- not in a way that would hinder you. Simply, in the sense that he would risk his well-being to protect you. Yet, there were many situations where he was… helpless.

It wasn’t uncommon for you to enter the girl’s bathroom, though it was almost always to visit Hanako. So, his face instinctively lit up when he saw you stumble into the bathroom- though he felt the color drain from his face when he saw your shakey figure. The color was drained from your face as well, he noted, as he quickly floated over to you.

“(Y/N)?? What’s wrong?” He questioned, pushing the hair from your face, getting a good look at your face. He was already positive you didn’t feel well. He just needed to know how- then, he could help. Surely, he could do something.

“I… I dunno- my stomach hurts, haha… really badly.”

Before Hanako could question further- where did it hurt, what kind of pain- you stumbled into a stall, spilling any contents that were in your stomach into the toilet. Instinctively, Hanako cringed a bit- quickly, he shook the queasy feeling he got off, and stepped over to you, rubbing your back carefully.

When you looked up at Hanako, tears running down your face, he instantly feared the worst.

“Please get a teacher, or Yashiro, or- someone,” You told him, arms securing themselves around your stomach. Hanako quickly nodded, rushing as quickly down the hallway as he could. He wasn’t a doctor, for Pete’s sake- not even close to it. So, he practically flung himself into Yashiro’s classroom, shouting at her from the doorway.

“YASHIRO, (Y/N)’S IN A LOT OF PAIN!!”

Hanako could only ring his hands nervously for a moment, as Yashiro asked the teacher to be excused, floating anxiously beside her for a moment, then rushing back to you when she explained that she was going to get a teacher- thinking for a split moment, as he explained to her that you already threw up. To that, Yashiro nodded, telling Hanako that she’d be sure to make sure your guardians were contacted.

Once he reentered the bathroom, Hanako’s nerves were at a new worst state. His eyes landed on you, practically curled up next to the toilet, sniffling to yourself- he was sure he never wanted to help anyone so badly. He was sure that, if he could, he would take your pain.

“Yashiro’s getting a teacher, (Y/N). A-are you feeling any better?” You shook your head, glancing up at the ghost boy. Your face was slightly flushed with what he was sure was a fever, and your eyebrows were furrowed in clear desperation and pain. All he wanted to do was help.

“I feel like I’m dying…”

Dying. The word “dying” stuck out, striking at Hanako’s nerves as if they weren’t already being tested. You felt like you were dying? Were you?? He sat in front of you, hands shaking violently as he attempted to seem calm. You couldn’t die. No- no, the teacher would come. You would live, wouldn’t you? You weren’t going to die… right?

“It’s okay, (Y/N)- you’ll be okay,” He spoke, rubbing your shoulders gently and placing a soft kiss to your forehead, half trying to convince himself. As he continued to do so, the teacher entered the bathroom, knocking on the stall- though the door creaked open, as you hadn’t had the time to shut and lock it. It wasn’t as if you needed to- the nausea was simply overwhelming.

“(Y/N)? Can you tell me what’s wrong?”

“I’m having really bad stomach pains… I threw up- it hurts to talk,” You muttered, glancing up at the teacher, giving them the same pained look you gave Hanako. They crouched next to you, placing a hand against your forehead, then nodding.

“Where does it hurt?”

Clearly not wanting to move, you sniffled, forcing yourself to sit back just enough to motion around your lower-right abdomen. As if it clicked, the teacher nodded, letting you fall back into the position you were previously in. “I have no room to say for sure, but it does sound like appendicitis. Your parents are on the way, and I’ll let them know to take you over to the hospital.”

Your grip on yourself tightened a bit, panic showing up in your face. Seeing that panic, Hanako could only fear the worst. He knew vaguely of appendicitis, sure- how likely was someone to die from it-?? If your appendix ruptured, he knew it was dire. Did it? How long did it take for an appendix to rupture? Before he could even acknowledge the thoughts running through his mind, the teacher lifted you up, carrying you out of the room.

Though Hanako followed, he was left standing at the doors of the school when your guardian carried you away. The final bell rang, all of the students finally emptying out of the school, as the car you were in drove away. He watched until it was out of sight, silently noting that it must have been the direction of the hospital.

The first few days were practically torture for Hanako. Yashiro’s comments didn’t help- her saying that you went into surgery only worsened his fears. During his lifetime, surgery was… unpleasant, to say the least. They could do it- you could certainly have your appendix removed, but- but what if something went wrong? How had things changed since he lived…? Had it ruptured, were you going to live? What if you died during recovery?

He couldn’t stand it. No, until several weeks passed, Hanako was a nervous wreck. The relief that washed through him when he saw you walking through the school halls was almost comical- that is, if he wasn’t clinging to you like he really had almost lost you.

“(Y/N)... I’m so glad to see you again.”

“Hanako, I’m so glad to see you too. Sorry for scaring you like that… but thanks for sticking with me.”

Of course, Hanako could only accept the praise, unsure how to word “I stuck with you because I didn’t want you to die alone.”

tsukasa yugi <3

Tsukasa, most were sure, wouldn’t necessarily… care if someone around him died. No, he probably loved the pained expressions of someone taking their last breaths. If it was a messy death? It would be better for him, right? Screams of pain, tears streaming down someone’s face, blood splattered around. Natsuhiko half joked that it would be a dream for Tsukasa, no matter if everyone else considered it a nightmare. Sakura remained quiet, shaking her head slightly. You… disagreed, as if protecting Tsukasa. Maybe he wouldn’t… as eerie as your boyfriend could be at times, you loved him nonetheless- and you were sure you didn’t fall for someone who would… enjoy…… others’ pain…?

Hm…

Either way! You were sure you didn’t fall for someone who would enjoy your pain!!!

Those thoughts were just that- little thoughts you had. Thrown into a few conversations between the fellow people who frequented the broadcasting room. Nothing you really wanted to prove, you know? No, you’d rather assume it, and not go through anything particularly painful to prove it.

However, those weren’t necessarily your thoughts as you tripped over the rug, one of Sakura’s tea sets in your hands. The hot tea in them went flying, landing all over you- but, that wasn’t really your focus, as you landed with a harsh thud. The glass cracked underneath you, the uncomfortable sound of shattering filling the room- accompanied by your scream- at first being echoed because of the fright of following, but being finished off because of the feeling of glass splintering you as if you were the fragile object.

Your scream ended in a cry, tears quickly clouding your vision as the sharp pain coursed through every spot the glass had harmed. Sakura’s eyes went wide, and she stood up, aiming to walk over and help you- Natsuhiko did the same, exclaiming your name once he saw you began to fall, a bit quicker than Sakura was- Mitsuba could only stare, as if his fight or flight was activated. Before any of them could reach you, Tsukasa was there, shouting your name and cupping your face.

Tsukasa wasn’t bothered by the blood, as if he could be bothered by any blood, pure worry crossing his face. It was a rare sight- Tsukasa genuinely concerned- but it wasn’t like seeing a bloody (Y/N) on the floor was exactly common. It was no one's focus, as the other three finally were gathered around you. Protectively, nearly forgetting your injuries, Tsukasa held your head to his chest- glaring at the others.

“Go get a nurse!! (Y/N)’s bleeding-!”

Natsuhiko nodded, rushing off, as Mitsuba glanced around panickedly- Sakura pushed Tsukasa away from you slightly, as if to let him know to be careful. His hands wandered to your arms, holding them carefully, peering at the glass, then up at the tears streaming down your face.

“Don’t pull out the glass. It could make the bleeding worse, and we can’t be sure where all the glass has landed. Especially in their arms.”

Tsukasa nodded a bit, glancing at his hand when one of your tears landed on it. He ignored the blood dripping onto his palms, quietly licking the tear that fell onto the back of his hand. That wasn’t enough to distract you though- he half hoped he could take away your pain, but was discouraged to only be met with your shaky sobs. His eyes wandered along the shards sticking out of your arms. Dangerously close to places he knew they couldn’t scratch- an artery, he knew, would be beyond dangerous… what if, when the glass gets pulled out, you’re met with the spewing blood that comes with a punctured artery? Looking around at the blood dripping everywhere- were you… dying?

Tsukasa froze up a bit. (Y/N)? Dying?

Well, he was dead… Amane was dead. Mitsuba was dead. But… what would happen when you died?

Would you become a ghost? Or would death be the final separation for the two of you- would Tsukasa be trapped on earth, while you moved on to whatever afterlife there was??

“(Y/N) can’t die,” was his only thought, as Natsuhiko returned, gently explaining that he was going to carry you to the nurse- then, your guardian could come at take you to the hospital. However, once Natsuhiko’s arms wrapped around your torso, Tsukasa grabbed Natsuhiko’s closest arm. “I- I can take care of them. I’ll carry, (Y/N).” “Runt, you’re a ghost. For real, don’t screw around. Let me carry them, hurry now,” He spoke, lifting you up. Tsukasa stood, balling his hands up slightly nervously. Oh, a nervous Tsukasa… it was also such a strange sight- watching Natsuhiko speedwalk with you in his arms, Tsukasa floating alongside them. In fact, Tsukasa remained with the both of you- holding your arms carefully, until you were entering the car, towels placed around you to keep the blood from spilling anywhere. He watched the car drive off, unsure how to process anything.

The next several days were… difficult for Tsukasa. He wasn’t sure how to deal with it, yet he found himself peering into your classroom to see if flowers sat on your desk. He found himself paying closer attention to the rumors spread- listening carefully for anything that sounded similar to you. He wandered the halls, as if he suddenly lost his purpose- keeping an extra eye out for a person, or ghost, with cuts from shards of glass littering their body.

Tsukasa was his… clingy self when you returned. He hugged you as tightly as he could, not wanting to release even when you warned him about your still healing arms. He placed countless kisses to your face, giggling out that he was so sure you were going to die. Even when you questioned his thoughts, Tsukasa continued on, kissing the scars, scabs, and few stitches on your body. Yes, he really was glad that you were alive. Be it for selfish reasons or selfless ones, he couldn’t be sure- he just knew he was glad.

[joansiefics]

Hey!! I just saw your prompt post and I was wondering if I could request prompts 2 and 4 from the angst section with Steve Rogers? Fluffy ending? I'm just really in the Steve mood rn. Thanks❤️😘

No Bed Of Roses

STEVE ROGERS X READER

Prompt 2: "don't you hurt a single hair on her head"

Prompt 4: "I don't know where I am... please help"

SUMMARY: You get kidnapped on your way home from running errands and Steve comes to save you.

WARNINGS: Explicit  Descriptions of Torturing (Cutting, Dislocations...), Kidnapping, Chloroform, Blood, Mentions of Death, Guns

A/N: The expression "no bed of roses" means not pleasant at all. And seeing that this fic is about an anniversary I accentuated and incorporated flowers in the fic. I'm sorry it took so long to write your request, but I hope you like the final product.

MARVEL MASTERLIST || PROMPT LIST

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Add yourself to my TAGLIST

~Flower #1: Peony - means Marriage~

You just finished decorating - roses strewn over the tablecloth accompanied by lit candles and fairy lights hanging by the entrance. It was your first marriage anniversary and you wanted it to be special. There were still three hours left before Steve would be home and you were almost done, you just needed to make your famous pumpkin pie. "Dang it!" you spoke aloud when you noticed your flour wasn't enough for the recipe. You rushed to the door and grabbed your keys on the way out.

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You payed for the flour, thanked the cashier and rushed back to your car. A few meters away from your car, you searched your purse for your keys and unfortunately didn't notice the two men creeping up on you.

~Flower #2: Aconite - means Be Cautious~

A calloused hand enclosed around your mouth, muffling your cries for help, as the other arm snaked around your waist, preventing you from escaping. Another man's hand came into your peripheral vision, a torn rag in his hand. You struggled against the arm around your waist, screaming against his filthy, sour tasting hand and kicking your legs wildly. The rag was forced into your face, even though you twisted your head from left to right, holding your breath and doing everything in your power to escape the drowsiness. After about five minutes of useless struggling, black spots started to cloud your vision, the fight fully escaped from your body and you fell numb into your attacker's arms.

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~Flower #3: White Rose - means Silence~

When you opened your eyes, the dark was exchanged for more darkness. You relied on your hearing to inform you of your surroundings - a dripping faucet, the roof's thermal expansion and contraction and silence. The sudden presence of a fluorescent light directed directly into your eyes had you squinting. "Sleeping Beauty finally awakes" a loud voice booms from somewhere in front of you. You try opening your eyes against the bright light to find the source of the goosebump-eliciting voice. "Who are you and what do you what from me?" you strenuously ask. A dry cough threatens to escape your parched throat and makes you gag, before you collect the most possible saliva to swallow. "We'll leave our identity a riddle for you to figure out while we wait for your Captain to show up"

'No, no, no, no...HYDRA...Steve fought so hard against them, he'll be devastated' you think "Well, then I'll have all the time in the world, he's not coming to save me" you say, hoping that it came across more convincing than it felt "We both know you're lying princess" "Don't call me princess" you seethe. "We need to do something about your snarky remarks, princess." he tuts as he walks to the corner of the room and for the first time you see the trolley decorated with tools. "With what do you want to start?" he asks fake politely. "You choose" you say with fake bravery masking your utter terror. "Let's see if we can shut your pretty mouth up first." He picks up a knife and slowly stalks towards you.

~Flower #4: Marigold - means Pain~

When he gets to you, he forces your mouth open - his long fingernails digging into your soft, rosy cheeks. He musters up all his saliva, stores it at the tip of his tongue and spits the ball of slime into the back of your throat. You choke on the warm liquid, traveling down your throat as he shakes your head to ensure that you swallowed all the given saliva. Once you swallowed everything you look your kidnapper in the eyes "thank you so much, I was so thirsty" "Let's see if you'll be so outspoken when I cut your tongue" he digs his nails deeper, drawing blood as you try to close your mouth. He forces the knife's blade into your mouth.

The cut is made at the tip of your tongue - not deep enough to cut the tip off, but just deep enough to let it bleed profusely. A scream escapes your lungs and the tears sting behind your eyes. "Not so brave now sweetheart, huh?" he mocks. He takes a phone out of his pocket and clicks on a number. The phone rings once and then the other person picks up "Hello?" the person, you recognize as Steve, unsurely greets. "Captain, we have your pretty little wife over here" "Don't you hurt a single hair on her head!!" Steve yells fumingly. "Oops, too late" "let me talk to her" Steve urgently orders, hands clenched into fists. "No, no, no captain...why don't I show you" your kidnapper switches the call over to video call and focuses the camera on you. He grabs your cheeks again, forcing your mouth open. Then he grabs a pair of pliers and pull at the tip of your tongue, to show Steve the damage that has been done.

You don't know when your tears started falling - maybe when you saw Steve or maybe when your tongue was cut into, but they were now flowing down your cheeks, stinging in the crescent shaped cuts of your kidnapper's nails. "Just hold on sweetheart, I'm going to get you out of there okay?" 'He is probably still at work... how long have I been here? Less than three hours?' You attempted to speak but you rather hissed at the pain when your tongue touched your upper palate. Steve's heart clenched at the sight of your fear stricken face, contorting in pain. "Here's the deal, we let your pretty princess go free when you hand yourself in" the kidnapper speaks up. "Deal, but I swear if you hurt her even more I won't hesitate to kill you" and with that Steve hangs up.

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~Flower #5: Balsamine - means Impatient~

"I think he forgot about you princess" the kidnapper says, impatiently looking at his watch and walking the room up and down. When nearly twenty minutes have passed since the phone call, your kidnapper lost patience. He harshly yanked you up, by your hair, from the chair and pulled you after him - your feet sweeping the floor clean. At the other side of the room he let go of your hair and kicked you over onto your stomach. He gripped your tied up wrists and cut the rope loose, only to secure your wrists with a much stronger and longer rope. You could feel the sisal rubbing over your already lacerated wrists and feel the blood trickling down your fingers.

When your kidnapper was sure that you could not escape the bonds, he hauled you up by holding the other side of the rope. He lead you to a contraption where he made you climb the three stairs upwards. He positioned you that your back was to the pole-like-contraption and then tied the longer end of the rope (behind your back) to it. He quickly got off and pulled the handle which made the platform disappear from your under your feet and you fell with a big force to the ground, being pulled back by the rope just before your feet could touch the ground. You screamed as you felt your shoulder pop out of its socket - the pain electrifying every cell in your body.

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~Flower #6: Iris - means Faith & Hope~

You have no idea how long you've been hanging from a rope - a shoulder dislocated, probably a broken rib, lacerated wrists and a slit tongue. The distant sound of gunshots alert your kidnapper, but you hang numbly and exhausted. 'Where's Steve? I know he'll come for me, it's just a matter of time' you try to talk some sense into yourself, before you completely think that Steve has abandoned you. "Don't let them get the girl, she's our only leverage!!" your kidnapper yells through his comms to the soldiers, but he is met with static. "Your captain has come to rescue you... and now we have him right where we want him. He'll pay for all the destruction he caused." he has a disgusting smirk on his face, eyes glowing with evilness. "Sir, we need you on the field, all our backup is dead!" a panicked voice makes its way through the static and over the comms. "Stay right here you filthy female and don't make a sound or I won't hesitate to cut out your entire tongue out when I get back" he snarls before running out to the battlefield.

'If I yell someone might hear me and save me, or that freak will come back and cut out my tongue. Maybe I'll die when he does that, then I won't have to suffer anymore... it's worth a try' and then you start yelling with every ounce of energy and air left in your lungs. "Heeeeelp!!!" you cry out. The sound of your cries echoes through the room and into the hallway just outside the room. "Y/N?!" it takes a moment before you realize that it's not your echo boomeranging but someone calling out to you. "I don't know where I am...please help me!!!" you yell.

Steve follows your voice as the other Avengers fight of more HYDRA agents. When he enters the room and sees your hanging figure his heart breaks into pieces, shattering on the floor. "Y/N?" he carefully asks, to make his presence known. He slowly walks closer to you, purposely making his steps louder for you to hear and not to startle you. You lift your head up a bit, seeing Steve, before your head falls back down, your chin touching your collar bone. Steve assesses the entire contraption as he takes a few more steps closer to you.

~Flower #7: Gladiolus - means Heroism~

When Steve is standing in front of you, he carefully lifts your chin to make you look him in the eyes. "Steve" you whisper, throat dry, lips sticking together and tongue aching. "I'm here sweetheart" he comforts you, because he knows you'll need it to pull the next part off. "Sweetheart, I need you to listen to me" "hmn" you acknowledge him. "I'm going to cut the rope from this contraption and I'm going to hold you so you don't fall, I just need you to trust me and work with me" "okay" your small voice, make tears burn at the back of Steve's eyes and he has to fight hard to suppress them. He snakes an arm around your waist and cuts the rope, making you fall over his broad shoulders (fireman style carrying). A disgruntled sound leaves your throat when your shoulder flops around limply. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry" Steve apologizes.

He carries you to the middle of the room and lays you down. He takes of his jacket, folds it and put it under your head as a pillow. "Sweetheart?" he lightly shakes your uninjured shoulder to get your attention. "Can you tell me where it hurts?" you nod your head 'no' before closing your eyes again. "I know you're tired, but you gotta stay awake just a little while longer okay?" You open your eyes again and Steve asks the same question "can you tell me where it hurts, sweetheart?" "my tongue" Steve knows about your tongue, but he lets you finish. "my shoulder" he saw your shoulder was out out of place when he cut the rope loose. "my ribs and my wrists" "Is that all?" Steve asks, and you just give him a simple nod, too tired and sore to talk.

"I'm going to first take a look at your shoulder" Steve says. He quickly informs the team of your whereabouts and then focuses all his attention back to you. He lifts your arm up, supports your shoulder with his one hand and pulls as hard as he can towards him. A high pitched scream leaves you, once again. "It's done, it's done" Steve cooes as he rubs his hands over your arms.

Just them Bucky and Natasha arrives at the scene. "It's all clear" Bucky relays to Steve. "Thanks guys" Steve thanks, gently picking you up bridal style and carrying you to the Quinjet.

------

At the compound you were professionally taken care of. And later that night, you woke up to the soft 40's music playing in the background, Steve holding your hand and flowers next to your bed, with a note attached to it - "I love you so much Y/N, and nothing will ever take you away from me" You lightly tugged at Steve's hands and he woke up, but before he could speak you put your finger over his lips. "Just lie with me, please"

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TAGLIST: (if your name is crossed out, I couldn't tag you)

@buckyzzrogers @buckyandstevesbitch @ooopsthiswasnotsupposedtohappen @marvelouslyriddikulus