#when honestly his parents just want him to do what he wants to do

[seresinhangmanjake]

A Trade

Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen x reader

Summary: When Feyd asked for your hand, your father refused and took you away from him. Now he’ll do anything to get you back, and he’s not above kidnapping your sister to offer a trade.

Notes/Warnings: kidnapping and threats of death. I think that’s it. Feyd’s soft for reader.

Words: 4000

Feyd-Rautha Masterlist / Main Masterlist / Tag list

He sits quietly, his chair facing another of its matching set, and leans forward with his elbows braced on his knees. His hands clasp, fingers squeezing and releasing and squeezing and releasing in an effort to suppress the rage he hasn’t been able to let go of for weeks.

With eyes scanning over the figure sitting his opposite, Feyd’s teeth grind, wearing down the grit of his molars. It’s hard not to scrutinize. As he takes in every feature of her face, his lips and eyebrows involuntarily quirk in distaste. It’s not that her features aren’t nicely proportionate or well-placed on the structure of her face; they’re just…wrong. Familiar, but incorrect. 

“You don’t look like her,” he says. 

Her stare is just as intense as the one he knows so well. And though she may not look quite right, the aura she exudes does not stray from what he expects of someone with her blood. 

She jerks on the binds that are keeping her wrists locked behind her back and huffs when they don’t give way to her strength. “Well, we aren’t twins,” she states. 

There’s a bite there, but no soft edge to cushion the blow. She doesn’t know the proper way to deal with him. She doesn’t know how to ease the tension in his bones with her words. He supposes that is one of many things that makes the difference. It’s why he loves you and would not love a woman like her. 

Again she tugs on the ropes confining her. 

“Don’t bother,” he says.

She lets out a groan before finally surrendering. “You know, she told me all about you. About what became of the two of you. How it happened,” she says. “And I understand. I do. But do you honestly believe having your men abduct me was the best idea?” 

Feyd leans back in his chair. His arms cross over his chest. You are the only one who questions him, the only one allowed to question him, and his jaw ticks as he pulls back on the desire to slide a blade across your sister’s cheek.

“I do,” he says. 

Your sister shakes her head. “You know they’re giving her to Kenric. Father is with her on their planet in the process of signing a formal agreement.”

Feyd shoots up, hungry acid eating his insides. He’d heard news of the pending engagement, but he does not care to listen to those words strung together for a second time, especially not in a voice that so closely resembles yours. It makes him want to hurt something, damage something, but when the nearest target flinches at the sharpness of his movement, he pauses. You would want him to pause. He takes a breath and runs his hand down his face before circling to the back of the chair and gripping the edge of the seat. His knuckles whiten. 

“She is not marrying Kenric,” Feyd says. “Your House will give her back to me if I offer them you in return.”

She hums, unconvinced, and a crease forms at the center of his brow. He’s far from appreciative of how unsure she seems, considering this plan was the only one well-formed enough for execution. As the second born, she may not be as important as you are, but she’s a daughter of a Great House nonetheless, and no elite would allow the death of one of their own, certainly not their child, without some attempt at preservation first. They'll have to agree to his terms.

But if they don’t…

Feyd stares into the blank space by your sister’s head, his vision hazy, shapes blurring with each image of you that travels around his mind. Things had been so well. Content, yet passionate. Fulfilling. They’d been as close to perfect as Feyd could recognize from others’ descriptions of the feeling. 

You were a gift unto him without anyone realizing it. Your parents sent you for education, for experimentation, for practice in learning how to infiltrate other Houses so when the day comes for you to lead beside another, you would have the knowledge and skillset to manipulate any Great line from the inside out.

It wasn’t presented that way to his uncle, of course. You were introduced with the suggestion that the Baron see a curious girl, an innocent flower wanting to expose herself to foreign practices. But the act did not fool Feyd. He instantly saw the spots where the rose’s thorns had been clipped. What stood before him was a weapon briefly tamed for the sake of disguise who would grow back her barbs once planted within his walls. And he found much amusement in your deception.

It took mere weeks for you to fall with Feyd into deep affection. You were always around, always peering where you should not have been peering, listening to what did not belong to your ears, and when he got fed up with your lack of covertness, he confronted you. Confrontation which led to lessons in stealth that tucked the both of you into dark corners hidden from prying eyes. Dark corners that only shadowed your bodies if you were pressed against one another. Bodies that were so close breaths couldn’t help but intertwine. Breaths that brushed heat over faces and ceased only when lips met.

And then with one mistake, one request, you were gone. Kidnapped by your family’s guards. Taken from behind his turned back. Sand through his fingers.

“I believed her when she told me you loved her,” your sister says, snapping Feyd back to attention. Her mouth is parted, and as her eyes scan his face, they’re alight with something akin to wonder but with a few tainting specks of disgust. A reasonable reaction; one he anticipated. Her sister in bed with a Harkonnen—how horrible. “Nevertheless, it's fascinating to witness for myself.”

Feyd’s eyes narrow. His spine straightens. He squares his shoulders. “I asked for her hand first. She should be mine.”

A scoff bursts from your sister’s throat. “That is not what I have heard,” she tells him. “You did not ask; you demanded. And you were both naive,” she says. “She was not sent here to fall in love. Not to mention, your family has a reputation you should not forget.”

“She does not fear me,” he snaps. 

“She does not have to.”

“I am a Lord, an heir, as much as any other son of the Great Houses. My title makes me worthy. They had no valid reason to reject me and take her.”

“Do you think there isn’t more to it than any title put upon you?” she asks before she says, “It’s the wars your House involves yourselves in. The greed. The possessiveness. The pale hands in everyone else’s pots. The children you would produce.”

His jaw clenches. “And what would be wrong with our children?”

“What would be right with them? Everyone would fear the deplorable monsters they might grow to be with your blood coursing through their veins.”

Feyd’s heart prickles. 

He hadn’t thought much of children; he’d simply thought of you and what it would take to keep you by his side. Anything else he’d deemed the concerns of a much later time, but now, with it forced into his mind, he finds himself unexpectedly devastated. Normally he wouldn’t care about opinions, but to understand what ideas others might conjure up at the possibility of your union sickens him. The children you would create would be nothing less than flawless. Warriors. Survivors. Leaders. A pristine blending of you both. He knows it. 

Your sister’s chest caves with a heavy sigh. “Look, I do not say these things to hurt you in retaliation for dragging me here against my will. They are fact.”

In his silence, Feyd can feel her studying him from the inside out, not wasting a single passing second. Her position—the ties around her wrists that keep her bound to the chair—which would cause great concern to others, seems to fade in importance against her consistent, concentrated observing. It does not last long before he grows tired of it. 

“What?” he spits.

Pity bleeds into her irises. “She did try to convince them,” she says. “She claimed you’re different than you appear. Not as harsh. Not as impulsive as everyone believes.”

His gaze falls to his feet. “She was lying.”

“Clearly,” your sister agrees. Then her voice tips; softens. “But she was desperate. She would’ve said anything, though it wouldn’t have mattered. They refused to listen.”

Feyd’s eyelids pinch. He can picture you as desperate as he is. Begging. Begging as a Lady such as yourself would beg: with wit and strategy, utilizing every trick in the book short of falling on your knees. You’re like him. He begs as you do, but in his own way, with his own tricks.

“What do you believe will come of this? Really.”

Feyd looks up at her. “I told you, she will be mine again,” he doesn’t hesitate to say. “That is what will come of this.” 

“And if it doesn’t?” she asks. “Will you stop?”

“What do you think?”

As if he had cracked open her skull to reveal her brain, Feyd has an unobstructed view of each one of her thoughts nestling deeply into her mind. She said so herself what she and her House—what all Houses—think of him. War, greed, possessiveness. And he is but a fraction of the Harkonnen’s totality of power. What he’s done by taking her brushes the cusp of his capabilities, and his uncle would not restrain him from conquering another planet and snuffing out an elite lineage to obtain what he desires.

As your sister runs through the many repercussions of his plan’s potential failure, he decides he has wasted enough of his time on her. He can no longer stand to look at the face that lacks the features he prefers.

“Where are you going?” she says when he turns on his heel. 

“We’re done for now. You’ll be escorted to the guest quarters.”

“Not a cell?”

Feyd halts. 

“You’re her sister,” he says over his shoulder. And then he leaves her behind. 

—

“They’ll come today.”

Your sister looks up from the plate of food in front of her, her eyes landing on Feyd as he stops just in front of the dining table where she sits.

He’s reminded again how different she is from you. How when you sat in that same seat—a seat he is struggling not to scold your sister for occupying—you were the lone bright object in the room. Nothing about this soul-sucking black hole was capable of dimming you, and yet your contrast fit perfectly. You slotted into his fortress as if you were meant to one day rule over its every occupant, himself included. But Giedi Prime’s design does not blend well with your sister. She’s a royal-purple-velvet, gold-embroidered splotch in a sea of onyx black, and he wants nothing more than to remove her.

Soon. You will be back with him soon. Soon, you will be eating in that seat. You will be wearing his clothes. You will be existing in this space as you should be.

“How do you know?” your sister asks. 

Feyd blinks. “It’s been three days. Enough time to have been informed of your absence and return home to confirm it,” he says. “And she’ll know where you are.”

“You’re so sure?”

He gives a single nod. “She knows me,” he replies. “She knows taking you is not out of the realm of what I would do for her.”

---

Reader POV

You know where she is. From the moment your parents were informed of her disappearance and the three of you rushed to your home planet, not a single of your seconds was wasted on juggling alternative possibilities. How it is not blatantly obvious to everyone else is a shock, but perhaps your sister’s missing presence from the palace has turned frantic minds to mush. You’re the only one who isn’t running about, searching through closets and under beds as if a grown woman is playing a child’s game. 

You have to tell them. Recovering your sister cannot be a solo mission, despite how much easier that would be. Not to mention, to leave for Giedi Prime without notifying your parents would rightfully increase their panic, and no good would come of that.

So you speak his name.

They call him a demon. A monster. They curse and condemn him. How dare he demand one daughter and, after being denied, so quickly move on to stealing another. The implication that he’s taken your sister to replace you makes you ill, but to defend the love you share with him would further stir their tempers. 

“You’re certain?” Your mother asks through the trembling hand covering her horrified mouth. 

You meet your father’s blazing stare and try to ignore the hateful bile gathering at the corners of his lips. You nod. “I should go alone,” you tell them. 

“Absolutely not.”

“He’ll listen to me. He will not be cooperative with you.”

“That creature will listen to no one!”

“I know him. His thoughts, his tactics,” you argue. “I’m the one person who can get through to him.”

To his credit, your father takes a calming breath. It can not be denied that his emotions often guide him over logic, but he’s not a man known for idiocy. He sent you to the Harkonnens, and he’s not forgotten how well you’ve been trained to learn from your environment.

“Fine,” he eventually agrees. But he does not accommodate you beyond that. 

All efforts to ease his disgust for your lover fall on deaf ears. He won’t hear that Feyd hasn’t hurt your sister. He won’t believe that he hasn’t peeled her skin from her bones or starved her out of her perfectly tailored dresses. And though his eyes threaten you to surrender your conviction, to confirm his ideas and stoke the flame of his fury, you don’t give in.

Arriving at the doors of Giedi Prime’s fortress is done without guards flanking your sides. They stay on the ship. “He doesn't respond to intimidation strategies,” you tell your father. “It’s best not to storm his home with forces in tow and demand things of him.” Not lies, but you can’t say you’re honest for the sake of striking a deal without inflicting wounds on each other’s guards. True that it’s best to avoid an all-out battle, but it’s more true that your motivations are guided by seeing him again. 

When you do finally see him, you see no one else. The world falls apart and you cannot tear your eyes from his face. Neither can he keep his off of you. You’re yards apart, a rooms-span away, and yet you can already feel him from the anticipation of being in his arms. You’ve been living off of the memories of his touch, and now here he is, almost within reach.

Your father is shouting, but your heartbeat thumping in your ears shields you from the full power of his voice. “You dare steal my daughter!” you think he says. “Where is she!”

Feyd ignores him. He stares still. His mouth parts. And then, with determination in his steps, he walks to you. 

Before you can bask in the warmth of his looming closeness, his arm is reaching toward you, and in what seems like the blink of an eye, his palm slides across your cheek, his fingers weave with the strands of your hair, and he pulls you into a kiss.

Instantly, the long-awaited sensation threatens to kick your legs out from under you. Your bones warn of their weakening strength. Your heart briefly stops, but then beats return with a ferocity that could shame a beast in battle.

The *shing* of your father’s metal blade unsheathing is met with its sister sound from the multiple swords of Feyd’s guards. It buys you a few more seconds of holding each other, and you use those seconds to give all that you can.

Feyd knows how to kiss you. You know how to kiss each other. Though relatively tame in front of your current audience, he kisses with the promise of what his mouth would do to yours were you alone; echoes of what you shared before you were taken.

When you sense your time is about to run out, you plant your hands on Feyd’s chest, and as he cups your cheeks, you break the kiss. Your eyes find home in his. 

“I’ve missed you,” you whisper. 

He grins ever so slightly. “They can have her,” he says. His thumbs brush over your cheekbones and he rests his forehead against yours. “But I’m keeping you.”

I’m yours is on your lips, but his body is partially jerked out of your arms before you can speak. All gentleness in your lover switches off like a light. 

“Get off of my daugh–” 

Your father chokes, his nails clawing at the hand around his neck. 

“You don’t tell me not to touch her!” Feyd shouts with a squeeze, slowly pulling your father closer. Being inches shorter, your father must stand on his toes to keep Feyd’s grip as loose as possible, and as much as you find yourself enjoying the sight, you cannot allow it to continue.

“Feyd,” you start. As you caress his flexed bicep, you keep your tone velvety. “Feyd, let him go.” But he does not hear you. Or he does not listen. His fingers tighten. Your father’s face swells red. “Listen to me. I love you. No one is going to take me away from you. I won’t let that happen. You won’t let that happen. We will be married. We will be here, together, just you and me as we planned,” you tell him, “but I want you to let him go.”

A beat passes. Two beats. Three. Then Feyd expels the breath he’d been holding. His chest deflates, and one by one, his fingers unpeel from your father’s skin. 

Your father heaves. “Y-You…” he says through his attempts to recover. His hand rubs his rapidly bruising flesh. “You are promised…to Kenric. The agreement was all but–” he coughs “–but signed.”

A growl emerges, and from your left, Feyd lunges. Your father gasps. His eyes widen as he stumbles a step backward. 

“No!” You rush in front of Feyd to grab his face. Shaking your head, your thumbs stroke his cheeks. “No,” you repeat softly. 

The heat in his irises soothes as he keeps his eyes on you. His arm curls around your waist, and his gaze drops to your mouth. You want to kiss him again. You almost do, but then you remember why you’re here.

You look to the nearest Harkonnen guard, one of many you’re familiar with after your time on Giedi Prime. “Bring my sister. Please.”

He glances at his Lord, who nods in response to the silent question. Then Feyd’s attention returns to you, his eyes go to your lips, and he leans in. 

You struggle to care about anything other than his taste. After you were taken, you were lost to the devastation of believing your mouth and tongue and teeth would never have him again. And you’re lost now. Lost in the pleasure of those fears extinguishing. So lost that not even the echo of approaching footsteps is enough to cleave your bodies apart. 

“A relief to see that clothes are still on,” your sister’s voice greets. Reluctantly, you unseal your mouth from Feyd’s to look past his shoulder at your sister. There’s an unreadable expression on her face as she watches him bury his face in your neck. Acceptance, or revulsion.

Thankfully, your father seems to have missed her comment, so focused on seeing her well and unharmed. He takes an unsteady step in her direction. “Daughter–”

The Harkonnen releases your sister from his hold and she meets your father the rest of the way. “I’m fine, father.”

“That monster–”

“Didn’t do a thing.” Her eyes flick to the hand covering his throat. One brow arches as her head turns your way. “To me.”

Your father draws her into a hug, his hand going to the back of her head. “Good. Good,” he says. “Then let us take you both home.”

A chill runs throughout your limbs. Feyd’s arms cinch around your waist. He lifts his head, his vision glazed over as his eyes prod yours. “You’re not leaving,” he mutters.

You shake your head. “I’m not leaving.”

“You are leaving,” your father intrudes, his voice dropping an octave. “You are leaving this place. You are leaving that beast.”

Your sister sighs. “Father…”

“You are returning home, and you will marry Kenric.”

A muffled noise rumbles in Feyd’s throat. Like thunder on the horizon. A threat of a storm. You press your palm against his heart to feel the beats harder, faster. 

“We departed before anything was signed,” you say. 

Your father stomps his foot like a petulant child. “You made a commitment!”

Your head jerks back, and suddenly, red infects your sight. Intent on approaching your father, you untangle yourself from Feyd’s arms, but fingers latch onto your wrist, keeping you from gaining significant distance. You let him hold you back. 

“You made a commitment!” you snap.

“And I will keep it!”

Nails dig into your pulse point, and you know Feyd is straining against his urges as much as you are. “No,” you push. “You will walk free with one of your daughters, and the other will remain where she belongs!”

“You do not belong here!”

“Yes, I–”

“Father,” your sister repeats. 

He whips around. “What!”

“Let them be,” she says. 

Silence falls over the room. Feyd’s grip eases but does not disappear.

“He is selfish and stubborn and feels no guilt in how he loves her,” she continues. “I can’t say I’m interested in seeing what else he’d be willing to do to get her back should she be ripped away from him again, but I have no doubt it would be devastating. And I’m sure you would not survive twice.” 

Your father’s brows dip in the center. His fist clenches. “Do not disrespect me.”

“It's not disrespect,” she says. “I would fear for you, for our people, our home. Leave her, and I will marry Kenric.” 

You suck in a sharp breath.

“I have no attachments to any man. It causes me no harm to step into my sister’s place.”

“No.” Your father shakes his head. “I won’t allow it.”

“You will if you’re smart,” she replies. Tension radiates from your father, his body practically shaking where he stands. “And surely you aim to be a smart man. Surely you don’t intend to take unnecessary risks that could hurt everything our House is meant to protect.”

He opens his mouth, but the threat of humiliation is enough to shut him up. It has always been an area where he falters. Inadequacy and the fear of being looked down upon. It’s why you were marrying the son of Lord Kenric. Your House is not a weak one by many standards, but your father could not let go of the whispers among other Houses that they are stronger. He sought a match effective in showing your equals the value of his House and offspring. And blinded by his decision, there was no room for him to consider the consequences.

You watch in awe as he stands down, shrinking in the shadow of your sister’s wisdom. A smart man indeed. 

When your sister nears you, she reaches out to take your hand in hers. Feyd releases you as, for the moment, his nemesis has been subdued.

“You don’t have to do this,” you tell her. “I’m prepared to fight him tooth and nail.”

She lightly chuckles. “Your brute would burn down the world. This is what’s best. Safest.”

“You’re sure?”

“I'd decided on this path before you arrived,” she says.

You look for hesitation, any regret, but she’s a stone wall—sturdy in her decision—and you recognize that arguing would implant a tone of dismissiveness of her wishes. 

“Thank you,” you mouth.

Your sister squeezes your fingers. She tips her head to you before she glances at Feyd. You peek over your shoulder, but his face is blank. Whatever passes between them is indecipherable—some unspoken understanding. 

“Keep him in line,” she says. Then she steps away from you.

Your father glares the entire way out of the fortress, and you know you’ve severed your ties today. You’ve made a choice, picked a side, and neither he nor your mother will ever understand. Whether or not they’ve become an enemy you will learn in time, but at the very least, it is unlikely you will be welcomed into the home where you grew up. A sacrifice you accept. 

As the doors close, Feyd comes up behind you. His arms circle your waist. Your back meets his chest. His lips plant on your neck. “Come to bed,” he says. 

You grin.

---

A/N: thanks for reading! If you liked it, let me know :)

[keepingitformyself]

older (and wiser): i

synopsis: in which time could have never undone what she left.

A/N: FIRST WANDA FIC!!! had this idea long ago when i was crushing hard on this girl from the theatre program at my uni; around that time i had also seen ‘past lives’ and i wanted to do something similar with that film. also at my core i know wanda maximoff would’ve totally been a theatre kid, this is me paying ode to that. while this specific part doesn’t go into that, i am gonna work on a sort of prequel to this Short Series…anyways enjoy!!!

pairings: wanda maximoff x reader

genre: angst?

warnings: it’s sad. but it gets hopeful…

MASTERLIST

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

it had been years.

wanda had finally decided to take a breather. she’d been working non-stop ever since she left for work all those years ago after college.

she didn’t think she’d get so lucky off that one job, that it’d immediately get her into another, or another, and so on and so forth.

she loved her work, sure, but now it was catching up to her. everyone in her life, her manager, her agent, her family had all begged her to slow down.

“take some time off, wanda.” her agent, daniel had said to her during a meeting. wanda’s eyes traveled between daniel and her manager, samara.

the meeting had all been a set up. what wanda thought was supposed to be a discussion on a new project, was actually a ploy. she had no idea the meeting was meant to convince her to take a break.

“yeah right.” she scoffed. not believing in what they were saying.

“we’re serious, wanda.” samara stated, her eyes stern but with genuine care. “when was the last time you had time for yourself?”

wanda remained silent at the words. all of a sudden she felt like a kid being scolded by their parents. and she wished to be anywhere else but in the room with them.

“really.” daniel starts. “go be a real person. smell the flowers, meet people, fall in love, take in the view—”

“i meet people all the time, daniel.” wanda quickly cut in.

all daniel could do was shake his head, a sigh escaping his lips as he tried his hardest to make the woman in front of him understand.

“you know that’s not what i meant, wanda.” he gives her a pointed look.

with a jaw clenched, she crossed her arms over her chest and looked off to the side. the windows overlooking los angeles now seeming more interesting than this conversation.

“we know how much it means for you to work, we know how much you enjoy it, but you’ve been doing it for so long. we just want you at your best.” she hears samara say. and as much as she hated to admit it, daniel and samara were right.

wanda hadn’t stopped working since she started. in fact, it’s all she can think to do. she didn’t have anyone outside of work—no partner, no obligations except to her family. why stop when there was nothing waiting for her?

wanda knew the answer but wouldn’t admit it. she might as well never have fully faced it.

the truth was, she’d loved someone once. she’d loved you. and no matter how much time had passed, the thought of you still gnawed at her.

though everything was perfect for a while, her career was well off, she was successful, and her family was proud.

but wanda couldn’t help asking, is this really it?

of course, she tried meeting people. she really tried. she didn't like being miserable over someone she hadn't been in contact with for years. but even that wasn't enough. it was honestly a bit pathetic. it had happened years ago. four years, to be exact. wanda should’ve been well moved on by now, but she isn’t. at least not entirely.

so, she poured everything into her work to distract her from that gnawing feeling inside her. the one that had been lit up all those years ago. the one that was tamable with you around.

but you’re not around, and wanda couldn’t help but throw herself into more work hoping she could get rid of it, get rid of you. but she hasn’t.

“listen, wanda,” daniel cuts her train of thought. “your work is important and people need it, but to keep it up to that degree, you need to go out and just be a human.” he finishes.

wanda sighs. she leans forward on her knees and drops her head into her hands. daniel was right. they were both so right.

wanda never properly dealt with things. maybe it's time she finally did.

she looks up from her hands, a look of defeat yet understanding, with pursed lips she finally says,

"fine."

and now, two months later, wanda finds herself back in los angeles, in an empty home, eating expensive sushi.

she had gotten off the phone with her brother, pietro, who had just joined her on the recent trip she’d been on.

a trip that he insisted he’d join her on to make sure wanda would do all the resting and touristy things she should.

she had done all the traveling she could do in the last two months, jumping from plane to plane. talking to strangers, being a tourist in european cities, and befriending random people in planes.

now, wanda actually had time for herself, time with her brain. a thing she honestly didn't want to face. because even thinking about anything made it even more real.

but now wanda was bored, and the movie playing on her eighty-inch television wasn't doing much to entertain her. and it also didn't help that it was eleven pm on a thursday night and all wanda could do was feel bad for herself.

so she does the next thing she had been really trying to avoid,

stalking your social media.

wanda herself wasn’t much active online these days. she had much to do day-to-day and week-to-week, rarely would she ever have the patience to sit down and scroll through her phone much. that and she honestly tried to stay off of it.

but now she has the time. and the patience. and honestly, she’s a little scared at what she could find.

she tells herself it doesn't have to mean anything. just a little check-in to see how you were, after that she'd really work on trying to forget about you altogether.

and with the simple type in of your name, wanda finds your instagram. your profile picture, a professional headshot of you, and a bio that reads,

editor in chief.

New York Times contributor.

something that shouldn't have made wanda's chest burst with joy, but it does. and as she scrolls further and further, she finds that you now reside in new york city, that you've moved on well without her and that you have a cat and a boyfriend.

boyfriend.

she shouldn't care so much, but she does.

you were living your best life. the one you had always wanted.

just not with her. not with wanda.

but she doesn't stop there, and she ignores the lump in her throat as she exits your profile and searches for your mother's name.

and maybe she feels her heart break a little when it turns out the boyfriend you had is actually your fiancé. she finds out through a photo your mother posted.

the picture shows you, and a handsome man next to you. you’re both sat outside some restaurant in the city, his arm is thrown over your shoulder while your right hand clutches his left, and there it is. in all its glory—with the diamond on it catching the suns light perfectly. the ring on your finger.

it doesn’t help that he looks so in love with you.

out for lunch with y/n and paul again! i promised them an engagement lunch and we were NOT disappointed. make sure you try Jack’s Wife Freda if you are ever in SoHo!!#motherinlaw #NYC #loveinnewyork

is what the caption reads.

wanda freezes at the fact and immediately throws her phone on the empty seat beside her. she stares at it like it had just offended her.

many things go through her brain. how did you meet him? was it shortly after you broke up? was it really him you wanted to spend forever with? how long did it take for him to ask?

wanda had always loved your mother. a sweet woman who always had your best interests in mind. she had always pushed you to do what you loved. and wanda had always seen that some of her favorite traits of yours had come from her.

after the break up, your mom made sure to check in on wanda. without you ever knowing, wanda and your mom kept in touch, until eventually wanda had cut her line for the sake of fully moving on.

though, she never really fully did.

wanda evaluates what to do next. was this her sign? she doesn’t want it to be sign.

wanda doesn’t want to admit that it seems like you had moved on so completely.

on impulse she looks up your fiancé’s name. “paul” is all she had to type out in your mother’s following before she found his account.

she finds that paul is just as successful as you are. he’s an investigative journalist, born in ireland. he briefly worked at a publication in london but transferred to a firm in new york after a year.

he’s gorgeous, she thinks. he has blue eyes, a kind smile, and he has an accent. it would make perfectly good sense why you would choose him.

wanda’s stomach twists with a mix of happiness and regret.

“fuck!” She whispers to herself.

“of course, you’re happy. of course the man you’re engaged with is actually a decent man! fuck.” wanda says to no one in particular. in frustration, she burries her hands in her hair.

wanda is annoyed at herself.

“i need a drink,” in an instant she’s on her legs making her way to the kitchen. she finds a bottle of wine that has been kept cool in the fridge and she wastes no time in popping it open, she pauses briefly, debating on whether she’d need or glass or not.

to hell with a glass. she thinks, and makes her way back to the couch, she holds the bottle by its neck and takes a long swig from it.

it’s all so perfectly miserable. wanda maximoff stalking her ex-girlfriend on social media while she gets wasted. the self loathing has got the best of her. she finds it all ironic.

wanda maximoff could have anyone she wanted. she knew this. she has everything she could ever want or need. she has credibility, a nice home, the luxury of traveling at any moment she wants.

yet, her mind kept coming back to one thing. the one thing she’d decided she’d leave behind all those years ago. it isn’t fair, she thinks. wanda was young and stupid back then, but she was so so in love. she knew that for sure.

but sometimes…sometimes she really wishes she had fought harder.

briefly, wanda wonders if your number was still the same. if you had ever changed it or at least tried calling her. she wouldn’t know, she had changed it years ago once she started getting more attention for her work.

wanda was really drunk at this point. her better judgment had gone away as soon as she’d picked that bottle out the fridge. there was no better time than now.

she taps on her phone until she lands on the number keypad. her fingers hover over it, would she regret it if she didn’t? probably. would she regret it if she did? probably.

but if there was one thing wanda had, it’s that she’s got nerve and audacity.

so she types in the number that she doesn’t think she could ever forget, and lets it ring.

your fiancé answers the call.

“hello?” an irish accent sounds through the speaker. paul. wanda’s blood runs cold and she stays silent for a moment. all of sudden she feels incredibly sober and regretting making the call.

“hi.” she pauses. “uhm, i’m looking for y/n?” wanda manages to squeak out.

“right! who is this? your number isn’t saved.” paul says,

“an old friend. i changed my number a while back.” wanda replies smoothly.

“oh! let me pass her to you, she’s just in the kitchen.” the line goes quiet for a few moments, and she’s able to hear a few words exchanged between you and paul.

“hello?”

wanda freezes again, a hand covers her mouth as she tries not to shake at the sound of your voice. it’d been so long. she grips her phone tighter.

“hey…” her voice shaky and unmistakable. you know it’s wanda.

“wanda?” your voice betrayed the surprise you felt. from the couch paul caught your eye, a raised eyebrow on his face. everything okay? he mouthed.

you shook your head.

“i wondered if your number was still the same.” wanda says after a moment. her tone light, but with an undercurrent of something else.

your mind raced. why was she calling you? why now? your fiance was in the other room, you were getting married soon. you’d built a life perfectly fine without her in it. so why was she calling you now?

“how have you been?” her voice cuts through the line again. wanda holds the phone close to her ear, wanting to make sure she could hear every word you say.

and all you can think of is how confused you were.

“i- i’m fine. i’m good. yeah.”

“that’s good—”

“i’m sorry, uh…why are you calling?” you find yourself cutting her off. your fingers press against your forehead in act of trying to understand what was happening.

wanda pauses. she realizes just how impulsive this whole thing was. she’s on the phone with her ex of four years, while your fiancé was probably in the other room. she goes silent again. her words have to be carefully measured.

she gulps,

“uhm…i just—i just wanted to know how you were. heard you’re based in new york now...so…” wanda trails off. you don’t miss the tone in her voice as she says those words. the familiar rasp, the lowness of her voice, she’d used it many times on you when she wanted something.

you close your eyes with a sigh, “yeah. yeah, i live in new york now, engaged and everything.”

wanda smiles through the phone, her eyes almost prick with tears at the corners.

“i saw," she says just above a whisper. "congratulations, you…you’ve always wanted that.” and she means it. she knows better than anyone how much you’ve wanted this.

suddenly a wave of nostalgia hits you, and you’re brought back to when you were both in college. so young, so dumb, but god, it was one of the best times of your life. you try not to let it affect you, how much this call seems to be doing for you. you haven’t yet figured out if it’s a good or bad thing.

“thank you." your voice softens. "how have you been?” you find yourself asking her next.

wanda smiles at your question, “life has been…insane, you know?” she pauses on the line. “still missing some pieces, but overall i’m doing well,” you pretend not to hear the sudden shift in her voice when she said that.

you exhaled quietly, unsure of what to say. the air between you felt charged with unspoken words, old memories stirring to the surface.

“can i see you?” she asks, her tone hesitant. “catch up in person? i’d really like to see you.”

with your bottom lip between your teeth, you contemplate your next words. paul notices your tick from the other his seat on the couch, despite you telling him it was okay he couldn’t help but worry. he’d heard enough of the call to know something was wrong. still he knows you had it down, so he waits until you need him.

you struggle to find your words for a moment, the question being so…why?

“oh, wanda, i don’t know if—”

but wanda ever the stubborn woman she is, doesn’t relent.

“please. Just for some coffee and conversation.”

your mind is torn between keeping your peace or taking wanda up on her offer. but you were curious.

with a sigh you finally decide.

“where and when?”

you can hear wanda’s smile through the phone,

“i can fly to new york anytime you’re free. you can pick a spot and i’ll be there.”

you think for a few moments.

“okay, meet at caffe reggio in greenwich.”

wanda’s heart stutters, something she hadn’t felt in a while. her eyes flutter closed, she breathes in— out. her eyes open again. and though you can’t see it, there’s a new look in her eyes.

“i’ll be there.”

[delilahsturniolo]

𝒂 𝒔𝒄𝒉𝒐𝒍𝒂𝒓’𝒔 𝒔𝒆𝒄𝒓𝒆𝒕 — 𝒄.𝒔 ᥫ᭡⋆˚࿔

𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐰𝐨 . . . 𝐬𝐩𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐝 𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫 💌

in which . . . y/n and chris attend boston university, the both of you are always competing and bickering with each other academically. one day, chris suddenly asks you to help him make his ex jealous. the only problem is, you can’t stand each other. what happens when chris can no longer keep his true feelings about you a secret?

warnings . . . academic rivals, fake dating, enemies to lovers. mentions of alcohol & weed, cursing.

written by @delilahsturniolo. do not copy, steal, or modify my works. if you are taking any inspiration from this, please ask me first before posting and credit me in your description. happy reading! :)

one, two

you gently dabbed your makeup brush against your cheek, blending in your blush. when you finished, you popped open your tube of strawberry frosting flavored lipgloss and spread it across your lips, smacking them afterward. you were currently getting ready for a party that chris insisted you went to with him, he mentioned that victoria was going to be there. nick and matt were also accompanying you both, since mary lou told them they needed to get out of the house, especially matt.

your phone buzzed with an incoming text message, you picked up your phone, seeing a text from matt saying that the three of them were outside and waiting. you shoved a few things into your purse before going downstairs, saying bye to your parents and opening the front door. you saw the triplets’s car in your driveway. chris was driving, while matt and nick sat in the back seats together, purposefully leaving the passenger seat empty for you to sit in. great, just great.

you walked over to the car, opening the door and climbing into the passenger seat. “are you two serious?” you whined, looking at the two brothers in the backseat, trying to stifle their laughter of success in their plan. “cmon, buckle up. we don’t have all night.” chris scolded you, causing you to shoot him a dirty glare and buckle your seatbelt.

chris backed out of the driveway, and began driving over to the house that the party was being held at. you weren’t really the type to party, you’d honestly prefer to be at home and in your bed more than anything. but, a deal was a deal. around 15 minutes later, the four of you arrived. chris parked the car before you all got out.

“alright, we meet back here by 11. don’t do drugs, make good choices, y’know the deal.” chris explained to his brothers, matt nodded and started heading into the house, nick clinging onto him like a lost puppy. chris turned his head to look at you. “y’ready?” he asked, you took a deep breath. “yup.” you confirmed, chris gave you an unexpected reassuring smile before he started walking into the house, you followed behind him, staying by his side the entire time. you didn’t know anyone at this party, after all. it was mostly popular kids, that you didn’t associate yourself with.

neon lights flashed throughout the house, loud voices were shouting over the music that was being blasted. the smell of alcohol and weed filled the air, which was unpleasant. the place was absolutely packed, you had no idea where nick and matt had disappeared to. chris suddenly wrapped his arm around your waist, keeping you close to him so he wouldn’t lose you through the crowd. his touch sent shivers down your spine, but it felt…comforting?

“yo! sturniolo!” a random guy in sunglasses shouted, whom you assumed to be chris’s friend. chris waved and walked over, keeping you attached to his side. you stayed quiet, standing by chris’s side as he chatted with his friends. you didn’t want to seem like a loner, so you just followed chris the entire time. it might’ve been lame, but you weren’t as popular as chris was.

you sighed in annoyance, you didn’t want to be here at all. you felt so—out of place. you tapped chris’s shoulder, he turned his head to look at you. “i’m gonna get a drink!” you shouted, your voice muffled over the noise. chris nodded, barely even acknowledging you. you huffed and walked away, going over to the drink table. you grabbed a plastic red cup, placing it under the pitcher of cranberry juice and filling your cup.

you took a sip of your juice before beginning to walk back to where chris was. but, you didn’t get far. you grunted as someone bumped into you, making your drink splash all over your clothes. you gasped, the red liquid seeping through your clothes. you lifted your head to see who bumped into you.

victoria. of course.

she gave you a fake smile. “oops.” victoria grinned. your eyes widened at her, a few people stopped their conversations and stared at you. to say this was embarrassing was an understatement. your eyes darted to chris who stood in the corner, staring at you and victoria in shock.

you glanced at victoria with anger one last time before storming off, you scoffed as her high pitched giggle made your ears bleed. you made your way through the crowd, breathing in and out heavily in panic. your clothes were a mess, this whole night was a mess, all you wanted to do was cry. you went up the stairs of the house, the music of the party was now muffled as you went into the bathroom, locking the door behind you.

you were so embarrassed, more than embarrassed. you couldn’t believe it, why would victoria do that to you? you thought for a moment, you usually never really had a problem with victoria, you knew she despised you, but she had never really done anything to act on it. you honestly felt a bit better about the situation, the goal was to make her jealous after all. the plan was to make her jealous so chris could get her back. but, the thought of that made you feel uneasy.

a firm fist knocked on the bathroom door, making you jump. “it’s occupied!” you shouted, your voice shaking more than you intended. “y/n? it’s chris, can you open the door f’me?” chris spoke to you on the other side of the door. his voice sounded, caring..?

you slowly opened the door, chris held a plastic bag in his hands, slowly extending his arm out to hand it to you. “i uh—i brought you a change of clothes…they’re mine so, they might be a bit big.” chris explained to you. you smiled at his kind gesture, taking the bag of clothes. “thank you, chris.” you replied in a sincere tone, you could tell he felt horrible about what happened.

“yeah, i’ll be downstairs when you’re done okay? i’ll find matt and nick so we can leave.” chris gave you a smile of reassurance for the first time in your life, he walked off and you shut the door again. why was he being so…nice? you could’ve sworn he didn’t care about you one bit.

you opened the plastic bag, seeing a matching fresh love hoodie and sweatpants. you took off your cranberry juice soaked clothes, putting them into the plastic bag and changing into the new set of clothes. the hoodie fit fine, but the sweatpants were absolutely huge, even tying the drawstrings didn’t help. fuck.

you held the waist of the sweatpants up as you opened the door, practically running downstairs where the party was, trying to find chris. you found matt, nick, and chris standing in a corner of the party, talking to a few people, chris turned his head to look at you. “you good?” he spoke loudly over the music.

“it’s loose.” you told him, he snickered slightly, making you roll your eyes. chris grabbed your waistband, holding it up. “y/n’s pants are falling down, we gotta go.” chris joked as he told nick and matt. the triplets said goodbye to everyone, chris held onto your loose waistband to prevent your pants from falling down as he lead you out of the party and back to the car, to save you from having another moment of embarrassment.

© delilahsturniolo do not copy, re use, or modify any of my works.

[kiryoutann]

i wanted to rant about simon.

what do you think so far like what are your actual headcanons for the canon simon vs this simon from this series?

my feelings about the actual simon is quite vague. i've read far more fanfictions than bothering with the actual material so my picture of his is not really...constant? idk

but with this simon, he scares me. just to think about people that can engage in such romantic and sensual acts with little to no feeling involved.

or the mc's father. her dad makes me feel such an anger and injustice that i don't know how to express it and i know we probably won't get a satisfying update on him.

you don't like your wife fine i could understand the distance between them, but how can somebody forget their child no matter if they share the same blood or not, after all the time he raised her

leaving all that behind just to start a whole new life. how can that not eat somebody alive

OHH this is actually a good question. honestly for me, simon is probably one of the hardest character to write about because he doesn't give away too much. too calm. too know-it-all.

we're just gonna talk about the romance aspects!

but based on my head-canon of the canon simon, he has those younger years where he avoids romance, but not this actively and aggressively. it's more because he has too much on his plate (anger management issues, PTSD, depression) than because he think he's not good enough for some happiness (but he also doesn't expect/hope for it.)

canon younger (probably 6-7 years after he killed Roba) Simon lives his life without the need for things to turn out in certain ways. as he gets older (yes, the 2022/2023 ghost) and better mentally, he's become a little more open to the idea, though.

he's still not actively seeking romance, settling on one-nightstands and things that don't require any strings attached. however, he's not completely closed off to the idea too. if he has someone he likes AND TRUST (this is already a high wall to get over), he might act on it. but again, not really actively pursuing it and knows he doesn't need it.

and this might come as a surprise, but he's actually the biggest flirt out there—well, at least when it's only the two of you. when in front of his taskforce, he goes back to acting like he's the calm, collected, cool, stoic, scary lieutenant that everyone knows. can't have you ruin his reputation, right?

"it's private but not secret," with him. though it's not loud PDA, sometimes he lets his hands linger in places like your waist, your hips, shoulders. his love language is act of service, gift giving, physical touch—he makes sure to always appreciate you with compliments and love affirmations, but he's never really a man who's big on words.

WHILE THIS SIMON, hmmm.. he's a bit more complicated. and a mess. at some point, you can think of him as the younger version of canon simon we just talked about to simplify it, but even that's not really accurate considering the different ways they handle "all that sappy stuff" (as simon would say). this one actively and AGGRESIVELY avoids romance.

and while they both (my ver. of canon simon and this simon) sort to flings and one-nightstands, the canon simon is more careful and actually follows the boundaries he draws himself. while this simon outlines the boundaries, follows his rules until an interesting bird enters his orbit, violates them, and destroys them himself before he goes around saying "you read that wrong, darling."

NOW, ABOUT THE FATHER. . .

RIGHT! in my opinion, it's better for them to get a divorce actually and Dad still plays a role in MC's life rather than just leaving her. like, i know it'll still hurt the MC but, at least she can still have both of her parents even though in different houses! at least she doesn't have to feel neglected in her childhood.

okay, you hate someone you thought you would love forever, but abandoning your child? whose very existence was created because of you? talk about the Dad will come up in the sequel. hell, he'll even make an appearance with his two ballet loving new daughters. imagine how MC will feel.

sadly, this happens a lot in real life. fathers leaving and starting a new life without thinking about his "old" family. how people shame single mothers but never the absent fathers. people shame many women who have "daddy issues" or call them "fatherless" yet never call out men's incapability of being a real, PRESENT father.

[ideasarestuckinmyhead]

Auron and rook being parents to Charlie and Casper auron being the over protective father and rook being the cool mom

Parent like?

To me I feel like it's more of an older sibling type deal. But I can see scenarios where Auron and Rook feel like parents.

Like Auron straight up acted like a fucking dad helping Casper find Charlie again.

Ngl it'd be funny if Rook meet Charlie and helped him with having meeting Auron sprung on him.

After that Casper and Charlie kept texting the two respectfully. It was interesting especially after a fight or argument.

Casper is texting Auron calmly and Charlie is freaking out. Rook is sighing as they tell him it's normal and to just be honest with Casper.

Auron tells Casper straight up if they fucked up, but if they didn't he shows Rook the texts from Casper's pov.

Since Auron did give Casper a card (I don't remember which one but it was in the recent ep of lost n found) he checks on what they purchase once in a blue moon.

Also we all know he keeps tabs on everyone, but he double checks Casper.

Rook is more the hands off and shoots Charlie a text asking how his day was.

Giggles as Charlie tells them about the most recent date. Even suggesting spots they know to go to.

Casper does sometimes tells Auron when he's being too much. Which gets a eye roll but Auron does back up after a while. Trying to figure out what he did wrong.

Charlie honestly if he didn't have Rook would be so long in relationship stuff. Bc he didn't have anything serious like Casper.

Rook tells him he's doing fine and that they don't know what the fuck their doing too. I mean they somehow pulled Auron so.

I feel like sometimes Rook and Charlie hang out to meet face to face. It's a fun hangout gossiping about work gossip.

Casper and Auron have many conversations during rides. Sometimes Auron even asks their opinion on something he wants to get Rook.

After a talk if the other needs the information Auron and Rook tell each other what was discussed. It's really nice since Auron learn things from Charlie in a healthy way.

When Rook did finally meet Casper they gushed about how cute the driver is. Embarrassing Charlie by saying the compliments he's said before.

Auron after seeing Casper preening told Charlie bluntly how they made a poem of him. Causing Casper to snap their head to him.

There are times where Auron and Rook switch Casper and Charlie. Where Rook needs to be gentle with Casper and Auron needs to be blunt for Charlie.

Honestly the two couples help each other. It's nice when Casper has to be blunt to Auron and Charlie needs to gentle with Rook.

It's funny when Casper and Charlie have to help the two bc their not using their own policies they tell Casper and Charlie.

[thatsmzbitchtoyou]

Sugar & Spicy Books Chapter 4

Summary:  Y/N is an accomplished writer who is newly divorced, and out of fear of the unknown, moves back to her small hometown she swore she’d never come back to.  She comes across her best friend that never left, who helps her out of a tough spot.  Will old feelings arise?  Or is she just too big for such a small place now?

Warnings:  language, smut

Previous chapter Next chapter

By the time they got home Sunday morning Y/N was thoroughly fucked out.  They rarely left the hotel room after that first night, and Bucky had paid for another night and figured things out with his mom so they could spend more time together.  She was asleep in the car when Bucky picked up Autumn, and trudged inside the house when they got back to his house.  

“What’s wrong with Y/N, Daddy?” Autumn asked, watching Y/N worriedly.

“Oh she’s fine, lovey.  Just tired after a fun weekend,” Bucky reassured her before shooing her away to unpack as he helped Y/N up the stairs to his room.  

“Why are we in here?” Y/N asked.

“You’re gonna take a nice, long bath, and I’ll get you some lunch,” Bucky said, plopping her stuff on his bed.  “And you honestly didn’t think after all that you’d be sleeping in a different bed than mine, did you?”

“I don’t know,” Y/N shrugged.  “What about Autumn?”

“I’ll talk to her,” Bucky said, kissing her lightly.  “I’m sure she’ll be fine.  She loves you.”

“I…Buck, I…” Y/N stuttered.  She was feeling a lot of different emotions all at once.

Bucky smiled at her knowingly.  He lifted his hands and cupped her face.  “I want you.  I want this.  Do you want me?”

“Yes,” she answered automatically.

“Do you want Autumn, this house, Woodstock, this as your life?”

“Yes,” she nodded.

“Then what are you worried about?” he whispered.

Y/N stared at him for a moment as she tried to figure out what it was that was bothering her.  Why was she so anxious coming back to regular life after such a life-changing weekend?  She felt sure of Bucky.  He was the love of her life, she knew that.  She felt sure about Autumn.  She loved her and was sure she loved her back.  Then it hit her: she was afraid of not being enough for them.  She hadn’t been enough for her parents, or as a married, faithful wife to her ex-husband, with a successful writing career, a large, beautiful home, a fancy, newer car, and all that came with her previous life.  

“I’m afraid of not being…enough, for you, or her, or…anyone,” Y/N confessed, looking away from him and trying to pull out of his touch.

Bucky frowned deeply and didn’t let her move.  “Honey, you are enough.  You are everything to me.  You and Autumn are my everything,” he said, his hands slipping away from her face and wrapping behind her, hugging her to him.  “I’m sorry you were taught that you weren’t enough for others.  You’ve been neglected, lied to, and hurt.  But you’ve always been enough for me.  You are so much more than enough for me.  I wouldn’t, couldn’t, even dream of hurting you.”  Y/N sniffed as her tears started to fall, trying to blink them away.  “I love you, Y/N.  I want you.  I want whatever you’re willing to give me, which I hope is a long, happy life together.”  His left hand reached back up to wipe away her tears.  “And I know I’m asking a lot very early and very fast but, it feels like this is where we were supposed to be all along…what do you say, honey?”

Y/N nodded.  “I want that, too,” she whispered, not trusting her voice.

Bucky smiled widely.  “Then let me take care of you.”  He kissed her nose.  “Let me love you.”  He kissed her forehead.  “Please?”  

She felt almost lightheaded from how much his words and actions were making her feel like a load was taken off her shoulders.  The burdensome feeling she held for so long on her heart melted away as he stared at her with such deep earnestness and desire that it made her knees weak.  “Okay,” she smiled.  

***

Y/N was relaxing in the bubble bath Bucky set up for her when she heard a soft knock at the door.  She peered up at Bucky as he opened the door and peeked in at her.  “Hey, so me and Autumn were talking, and she wants to talk to you,” he said with a sheepish smile.

“Now?” Y/N mouthed.

“Now,” he mouthed back.

“Okay, sure,” Y/N nodded, pushing the bubbles so they covered her up.  Bucky nodded and opened the door wider for Autumn, who stepped in with a serious look on her face.  “Hey pumpkin,” Y/N smiled at her.  

“Hey,” Autumn said quietly as she kneeled by the tub.  “Daddy said he loves you, and you love him, and he wants you to stay with us.”  Y/N smiled wider as she glanced at Bucky, who smiled back at her adoringly.  “Do you love me?” Autumn asked, looking like she was on the verge of tears.

“Of course I do,” Y/N said earnestly, reaching her hand up and sweeping Autumn’s hair back.  “I love you very much, pumpkin.  I know I haven’t been here long, but I already love you so much.  And I love your Daddy.  Is it okay if I stay?”

Autumn sniffed quickly and nodded with a big smile.  “Yeah,” she replied.

“Now listen,” Y/N said, turning to face her more.  “I’m not trying to replace your mom, but I promise to love you and take care of you like you’re my own, because I already do.  Okay?”

“Okay,” Autumn nodded more fervently.  “I love you, Y/N.”

Y/N smiled widely again and carefully hugged Autumn so she wouldn’t get too wet from the bath water.  “I love you,” she said quietly.  

Autumn left the bathroom and Bucky knelt down by the tub.  He cupped the side of Y/N’s face as he leaned down and kissed her gently.  “Thank you,” he said.  

“For what?” Y/N asked.

“For being so wonderful with her,” Bucky said.  “For loving her.  And me.”

Y/N smirked.  “You Barneses are just too easy to love.”

[bentnotbroken1fanfiction]

Have you thought about how it would go if Kant didn't tell Style that Fadel was a hitman? Style would still be hiding something from Fadel and maybe he's thrown off how forward Fadel is now that they're dating but he'd regroup and lean into it and would totally be down for a double date with his BFF and if Kant is making a special night for Bison why can't Style do the same for Fadel and then Fadel disappears for a week and Kant is a sad moo who isn't helpful and then Fadel is back and Style is so happy but Fadel gets that call from Bison but Style has no idea.

So I have actually thought about this scenario a lot. It would have been even more fucked up for Style, because he would be even more oblivious and innocent than he is in canon. Because yeah, he started to follow Fadel around for a car (and then for the principle because he got intrigued by the chase) but that is nothing compared to knowing the truth of them being hitmen.

Now, him still being unaware would have changed things a bit. He wouldn't have acted weird or suspicious immediately after Fadel agreed to date him. He would have fully embraced it. Did you see the way he was grabbing Fadel's face at the end of episode 4 when he agreed to be his boyfriend??? Style was so fucking happy about winning him over. That was genuine joy. And if Style has anything going for him, it's that he can't hide his feelings for shit. When he is happy, he lights up and bounces around.

So he would have never acted strangely and Fadel wouldn't have had that moment of WTF is going on here? I think he still would have been hesitant to trust Style, but I don't think any red flags would have been raised like they were in canon. Fadel really took a second to try to figure out why his newly acquired boyfriend would suddenly not want to be touched by him or why he was running away. Without that interaction, Fadel wouldn't have had that thought.

Style still would have gone on the double date because he is still actively talking to Kant. Kant just isn't telling him the truth. Style would have noticed Kant being a little off, but he would be way too obsessed with Fadel and seeing him and getting laid to wonder too much about what is going on with Kant. He'd just go a long with Kant asking him to take Fadel back home because at that point it wouldn't be a strange thing to ask. He'd probably just assume he wanted to do something with Bison, even after the fake out with Babe. He probably would have been like..ok Kant has it handled. You still wanna bang? And of course Fadel would be like...yes. because those two are compatible and kinky AF and would be fucking like rabbits, (i mean honestly. I don't know how Fadel gets anything done anymore with Style trying to touch his titties every five minutes lol)

Now, him not knowing may change some of their conversations, but probably not as much as you'd think. Before he knew the truth, he was already wondering about what Fadel was hiding. He's seen him kick three men's asses without breaking a sweat and has seen that he goes to grief support group regularly, so Style is aware that Fadel is hiding a lot of things and Style is a curious person. He would have 100% still tried to figure him out and find out what his deal was. I think they'd still talk about their parents and have the trust conversation. It just might not have as much layered meaning because Style actually doesn't know, but he WANTS to. He wants to know Fadel.

What would that mean for Fadel thinking he is a snitch later? Well, it would hurt a lot more. Because if Fadel reacts the same way as he did at the end of episode 6...and then slowly tries to find out what he's been lying about, he's not going to come up with a lot because Style wouldn't be lying. he would have no clue that he was being suspected of anything. He'd be totally clueless as to why his boyfriend is acting strange.

Fadel would also probably get frustrated at that because Style wouldn't act like a snitch would act. (He acts strange a few times in canon and Fadel would definitely be looking back on those moments with suspicion after the fact) So, if a confrontation happens, whether violent or not, Style would end up feeling more betrayed than Fadel. and Fadel would come face to face with the fact that Style literally didn't know a damn thing and he's spent all this time treating him with suspicion and anger and maybe even trying to punish him for hurting Fadel, when his feelings were genuine. I think Fadel would then redirect all the anger and frustration he feels at Kant for NOT telling Style who he was and tricking him into this whole thing because Fadel could have killed Style and it would have been the wrong thing to do because he was oblivious the whole time.

It would have definitely been interesting to see that all play out. I think it would have shown even more true concern from Style towards Fadel, and more confusion for Fadel when he'd try to catch him in lies and come up empty.

[aventurineswife]

HEYY!! I just wanted to start off by saying i absolutely ADORE your work 🫶 also i have never requested before so i hope im doing this correctly lolol 😭

Could i please request a teen reader with parental figure! Aventurine?? I was thinking maybe the reader could be like Ratio's student but they don't like him all that much, so when they meet Aventurine they sorta cling to him instead. The reader follows him around, loves to give him hugs or presents, just very affectionate overal.

I feel like that'd be sooo cute. The whole Dad!Aventurine thing has been stuck in my head for days now.

Anyways, thank you!!

The Gambler’s Heart

Summary: Disillusioned by Ratio's cold, clinical demeanor, you find yourself drawn to Aventurine, one of the IPC's enigmatic Ten Stonehearts. Captivated by his charisma and warmth, you begin following him everywhere, showering him with affection, hugs, and small gifts. Though caught off guard at first, Aventurine grows into a reluctant yet protective parental figure, finding solace in the bond you share. As you help him confront his own vulnerabilities, Aventurine realizes that sometimes, the best gambles are the ones that involve the heart.

Tags: Aventurine x Reader, Teen!Reader, Parental Figure Aventurine, Found Family, Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and Angst, Mentorship, Emotional Vulnerability, Protective Parental Figure.

Warnings: Mentions of past trauma (Aventurine's backstory), Light angst (themes of self-worth and vulnerability), Mild language and references to intense emotions.

A/N: OMG THANK YOU!! 🤭💖 ALSO, DON'T WORRY YOU DID PERFECT FOR A FIRST REQ, AND I HONESTLY LOVED THIS AND I HOPE YOU TOO!!💕

The first time you met Aventurine, it was like stepping onto a stage where the lead actor suddenly took notice of you. He was magnetic, his voice weaving through the room with a charisma that demanded attention. But what caught you wasn’t his charm—it was the warmth in his gaze, a flicker of something genuine beneath the layers of practiced bravado.

Ratio had introduced you as his “protégé,” though you hated the label. Ratio was cold, clinical, and calculating in a way that left you feeling more like a pawn than a student. His mentorship, if you could call it that, felt transactional—like he was shaping you into a tool for his own ends. So when Aventurine strolled into the room, all flair and easy smiles, you latched onto him like he was a lifeline.

“Ah, Ratio’s ward,” Aventurine greeted, his eyes glinting with intrigue as he looked you over. “Tell me, do they teach you how to smile in his classroom, or is that considered extracurricular?”

You couldn’t help the laugh that bubbled out of you, surprised by his wit. Ratio scowled, but Aventurine only winked.

From that moment on, you decided you liked Aventurine far more than Ratio.

Weeks later, Your affection for Aventurine blossomed quickly, and to everyone’s surprise—his included—you made a habit of sticking to his side whenever he was around.

“Gambler, you’ve got a shadow,” Ratio remarked one afternoon, his tone clipped as he gestured at you trailing after Aventurine through the IPC’s marble-floored halls.

“I don’t mind,” Aventurine replied, grinning down at you as you walked beside him. “Every gambler needs a lucky charm, after all.”

You beamed at that, practically skipping to keep up with his long strides.

It wasn’t just his charisma or the way he made you laugh that drew you to him. Aventurine had a knack for making you feel seen. When Ratio barked orders or critiqued your every move, Aventurine would swoop in with a sly quip or a kind word, diffusing the tension with an ease that left you in awe.

You started bringing him small gifts—things that reminded you of him. A shiny card-shaped pendant you found at a market. A peacock feather pen. Once, you even baked him cookies, though they turned out slightly burnt. He ate them anyway, ruffling your hair as he said, “Risky move, kid. I like it.”

But your favorite moments were the hugs. You weren’t sure why you started hugging him—it just felt natural, like he was a safe harbor in a stormy sea. At first, Aventurine seemed caught off guard by your affection, his body stiffening slightly before he returned the gesture. Over time, though, he grew accustomed to it, even leaning into your embraces.

“You’re gonna spoil me, kid,” he teased one evening after you wrapped your arms around him in the middle of the crowded mess hall.

“Good,” you replied, grinning up at him. “You deserve it.”

At first, Aventurine wasn’t sure what to make of you. He’d never been anyone’s role model—not intentionally, anyway. His reputation as one of the Ten Stonehearts painted him as a man of ambition, not affection. But you… You were different.

He saw pieces of himself in you—the yearning for connection, the fear of failure lurking behind your determined eyes. It was in the way you hesitated before speaking up, as if bracing for criticism, and in the way your shoulders relaxed when he offered a kind word.

You reminded him of a younger version of himself, before the world had stripped him down and rebuilt him into something harder, sharper. Protecting you, in some small way, felt like protecting the part of himself he thought he’d lost.

It was late in the evening, the halls quiet as Aventurine worked in his office, poring over the latest reports from Penacony. He barely noticed when you slipped in, carrying a steaming cup of tea you’d made for him.

“Hey, kid,” he greeted without looking up. “Burn the midnight oil too often and you’ll end up with bags under your eyes like Ratio.”

You set the cup down beside him and leaned against his desk. “I wanted to check on you. You’ve been working a lot lately.”

He paused, finally meeting your gaze. There it was again—that unwavering concern you always showed him, as if you truly believed he was worth worrying about.

“I’m fine,” he said, but the words felt hollow even to him.

You frowned, crossing your arms. “You don’t have to pretend with me, you know. You always say I’m your lucky charm, but you’re mine too.”

Aventurine stared at you for a moment, the weight of your words settling over him. Slowly, he reached out and placed a hand on your shoulder, his usual smirk softening into something more genuine.

“Thanks, kid,” he said quietly. “That means more than you know.”

That night, as Aventurine watched you doze off on the couch in his office, wrapped in a blanket(aka his coat) he’d draped over you, he felt something he hadn’t in a long time—a sense of peace. For all the gambles he’d taken in life, this one—letting you into his heart—felt like the best bet he’d ever made.

[hanjivrse]

𝐇𝐎𝐓, 𝐅𝐋𝐈𝐑𝐓𝐘, 𝐍𝐎𝐍𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐋𝐀𝐍𝐓 𝐒𝐊𝐀𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐁𝐎𝐘

desc :

the skater boy who seems like he lives a nice life actually hides something truly dark

hot, flirty, nonchalant skater boy. han jisung was his name. he sometimes threw parties, but the weird thing was his parents never got mad or anything. they didn't seem to care. they just smoked cigars in the living room while their son and the people invited shout, sing and dance in the basement.

you and your friends were going to one of han's parties, which you guys were invited via instagram. you and the other girls didn't usually go, but he said it was gonna be his "biggest party yet," so you guys went to see how big it really was gonna be.

you arrive, and as usual, his mother and father are glued to the couch, several bottles of alcohol scattered around, taking long drags of their cigarettes. you and your friends scurry off downstairs to the party and as han said, it was big. you had so much fun, so much fun that the big host himself noticed.

after, you see that han looked a bit off, and when everyone left, you went to ask if he was okay. he nods, but then he stares up at you. he trusts you. he holds your hand and drags you outside. he takes his skateboard with him.

you ask him what's wrong once again, and he replies,

"my parents don't care about me, they just.. shout at me all the time. so, i just skate or throw parties to take my mind off things."

he ruffles his hair, still trying to act nonchalant about everything, but you can see some tears in his eyes.

"and.. i don't know why.. but i trust you a lot. god, i don't even know your name and i think you're trustworthy.."

"o-oh, my name is y/n. you're han, right?"

he nods and extends his hand out, saying,

"nice to meet you, y/n"

you both shake hands. his hand was warm, and fairly large, it looked ginormous next to yours, yet they still fitted perfectly.

he looks at you for a moment before continuing,

"i think it's stupid that I'm opening up to a stranger.."

he rubs his eye with his sleeve.

"..but you seem like a pretty cool person"

"thanks, you're pretty cool too."

he lets out a short chuckle, raising an eyebrow and smirking.

"you think so? thanks for the compliment. but i think you're cooler than i am"

he pushes some of his hair back, when you pointed out,

"hey, won't your parents be worried for you right now? like where you are?"

he groans before rolling his eyes.

"they don't even care where i go. all they do is smoke cigarettes and drink alcohol all day."

he huffs out, shoving his hands in his pockets before looking at you.

"yeah it sucks. honestly i don’t even know why they had me-"

he stops himself and looks away, shaking his head and letting out a breath.

"whatever.. i can't even deal with it right now.. do you want to.. skate with me for a while, i guess?"

"well, i don't know how to skate.."

"that's fine, i can teach you"

he says with a small shrug. he gives a sweet smile before holding out his hand to you. you take his hand and he intertwines his fingers with yours as he starts to walk around the yard, towards a random spot. he grabs his skateboard from the floor, before dropping your hand and setting the board on the ground.

"now, just stand on the board, okay?"

he pushes the board back and forth, smiling at how you look a little intimidated.

"it's okay, it's stable. you won't just fall over. now, put your foot on the front and i'll push you.."

he waits for you to do as he says, then he pushes you with his foot. after a few kicks he looks over at you.

"you think you can handle it yourself now?"

you nod and he stands right beside you, watching you push the board around.

"yeah, do it again. try to put a bit more weight on it and put your other foot onto the back of the board"

after a while, han jokingly pretends to wipe sweat off of his forehead, and he lets out a low whistle, he was really impressed by how well you were handling the board. he steps in front of you, looking at you with a small smirk.

"i can't believe you've never skated before. you're doing way too well for a beginner! hey, maybe we can skate around the neighborhood, i have a spare board you can use and we can drop you off at your house."

you nod and get on the spare board that he had in his garage.

the warm summer night had finally cooled down, the two of you who were gliding through the neighborhood were both clad in black clothes. the cool air made their faces tingled a little as they took in the quiet of the neighborhood, the houses around them were all in darkness, the people who lived in them had already gone to bed.

the dimly lit streetlights cast shadows that danced on the pavement on the sidewalk as they slowly glided over it. the neighborhood was mostly quiet, save from the occasional sound of a cricket in the distance and the quiet breathing sound that comes from someone skating past you quietly, which was all the more prominent in the silence of the night.

han drops you off at your house and you go to give him the spare skateboard back, but he holds a hand up, shaking his head.

"no, keep it. you did really good considering you've never skated before, so you can have the spare board"

"really?"

he nods his head.

"yeah, you did great. there's no point in me having it gathering dust in my garage. you should be the one using it, since you know how to skate now."

he kisses your cheek before leaving. you practically melt on the spot. he smiles at you before walking away, a small blush on his cheeks and he turns around and winks at you. as he's walking away, he calls out to you,

"see ya, y/n!"

[sictkrs]

Nervous (pt. 1?)

⋆𐙚 ₊ ° ⊹ ♡⋆𐙚 ₊ ° ⊹ ♡⋆𐙚 ₊ ° ⊹ ♡⋆𐙚 ₊ ° ⊹ ♡⋆𐙚 ₊ ° ⊹ ♡⋆𐙚 ₊

MNDNI!! 18+

Word count: 1.7K

Warnings: no smut but constant references to eventual smut, neck kissing, praise, honestly both reader and Steve are both switches with how I wrote this, dry humping, (slight) dirty talk, partial nudity, INSANELY long for no reason like it's just build up, not proof read

Boyfriend!Steve taking readers virginity! She is very nervous but also not because she's trying to be more confident!

I haven't written in like forever so here you go tumblr if you want the part two let me know because it is currently one in the morning and I will finish it tmr!!

Smut under the cut!

“Are you worried?” he murmurs, hazel eyes flicking up to look at you. 

For a moment you want to say no, you'd like to lie and tell Steve that you're just as confident as he is, but it seems that the moment you open your mouth the words fall short. 

“it's okay, I—I mean we don't have to, y'know, if you don't want to.” His thumb runs over the top button of your blouse, the smooth round stud so close to unlatching. 

“I want to,” your words are barely a whisper. His hands drop from your collar and settle on your side.

He doesn't seem to believe you. Here you both were lying in your bed, parents gone away for the night. It's perfect, he'd been sweet and caring, he brought flowers and chocolate. Still, you're tense, and he can tell. He leans back into the bed beside you, head resting on the stomach of a comically sized bear he had won you. You sigh, leaning towards him, he quirks a brow.

“I want to,” you repeat, this time your tone more confident. Or at least as confident as you can be with him around. “I'd like to, Steve, I do, I just… I'm nervous.” 

His lips quirk up a little, eyes trailing down your face as you look at him. If Steve was honest he really, really wanted you. God knows how many times he'd have to come up with some stupid excuse to go and jack off in the bathroom just because he kissed you. His teeth graze his bottom lip before he speaks again, that familiar playful look on his face.

“Show me.”

Your brows pull together, lips parting at his words. 

“How do I—How should I—” you start. His hand travels from your side, sliding down the slope of it to instead find home on your hip, thumb brushing over the fabric of your jeans.

“Just do whatever you want,” He tells you, eyes focused and staring into yours with so much intensity that it jarrs you.

“what if I do something you don't like?” You inch closer, leg brushing his. 

“I'll tell you.” His eyes flick to your lips. “But trust me, honey. I'd like everything as long as it's you.”

His words are so sickly sweet that you're sure you must have gotten a cavity. Steve was always good with words, smooth and sultry, everything you didn't know how exactly to be. 

Your tongue slides over your bottom lip, wetting it slightly before swallowing. When you move closer to him, you can hear his breath the way it slips out of him so quickly when your hands settle on his chest for support, the red wool of his sweater warm under your palms.

“You're doing just fine, sweetheart,” he murmurs, eyes following your every move as you progress closer.

It's not like you haven't touched him before, that you haven't made out in bathrooms or behind the bleachers at graduation, but this was different. This seemed to have more meaning because of what would come after. His left hand moves to your face, thumb swiping over the apple of your cheek. 

“Just focus on right now.”

It's as if he could read your mind, and you wondered if maybe you could read his too. You lean up, lips placing a soft peck on the corner of his lips, bubble gum lip gloss bound to leave a light shiny stain.

He starts to smile again, Steve liked kissing you. You knew that, it seemed to be one of his favourite things, along with the way you stammered or always seemed to get so jittery when you got too close, like you couldn't even handle the slightest touch. You'd like to prove that last one wrong, show him that you could handle him. 

His lips start to lean up, expecting to kiss you back like he always would, but you shift, left hand coming up and moving his face to the side, giving access to his neck. He does it again, the breath sound, this time it seemed rushed, surprised as it falls from his lips. His hand flexes on your hip, as if he's trying not to squeeze you too tight at the feeling of you mouthing and nipping at his skin. 

“There you go… that's it,” he breathes out, head tipping back. He seemed to be just as sensitive to your touch as you were to his.

“Unbutton my shirt,” you speak against his skin, breath warm and heated against the flesh of his neck. He swallows, adam’s apple bobbing.

His hands slide from their place and find the buttons again. He does it quick too, each button popping out so fast that you realise the last time he had almost taken your shirt off he must have been holding back.

You move closer, legs sliding between his as you plant yourself on one of them. You knew if you sat you'd feel him, you could imagine it. The pressure and the rubbing and everything that goes with that. 

You let go of his face once you feel his hand slide into your shirt, palm warm against your shoulder as you pull your lips (reluctantly) off his neck. 

He looks at you, eyes tracing the crevice of your collar bone all the way down to your chest, he could imagine running his tongue along the gaps, sliding and wetting it all down till he reached your core. Steve legs tense as you sit back, shifting on his lap so his thigh is resting under your sex and your own thigh nudging against the crotch of his jeans. 

“Fuck,” he utters, lips parted as he takes in the sight, the feeling. Your own hands slide off the button up as it pools around you, your pretty little bra on display for him. 

“Is this fine?” You ask, suddenly the previous display of confidence disintegrating as you take off a garment. He laughs, hazel eyes looking into yours.

“You kiddin’?” His hands smooth over your sides again, taking in the feeling of bear skin. “might bust in my jeans with the way you're lookin’”

“Steve!” Your cheeks flare.

“Sorry, honey, just—wow.”

You can't help the way your lips quirk into a smile that matches his, leaning forward. A moan falls from his lips but the sweet sound is quickly consumed when your lips fall on his. He kisses you enthusiastically, pads of his fingers seemingly less afraid to press into your skin. Or maybe he just wants to leave marks, as if they’ll remind both you and him of this night. 

“Take it off,” you breathe, words slipping from your mouth into his as you speak in between kisses. 

“I trust you.” You kiss him again. The feeling of his hands trailing over your skin to your back isn't something that's lost on you, In fact you'd rather it occur more after this. 

“You sure?” He pulls away.

His hands find the clasp, unlatching it and helping to pull the garment off of you. Your hands find his face, settling on the sides of his jaw, thumbs resting on his cheek bone as you kiss him. Steve can't help but peek, one eye opening to just see the site of your bear breasts.

“Oh my god.” 

The words are swallowed by your mouth on his. Hands slide hesitantly, but when you lean in, all notion of hesitance stops. His thumb runs over your nipple, feeling the soft supple skin harden at his touch, he moans into your mouth and the sound spurs you on. Your hips move without thinking, sliding over his thigh, your layers of fabric stopping some sensation but not all. You gasp, he pulls away.

“Was that good?” He asks, pupils blown wide as he looks up at you, hands still grabbing and touching your bear chest. 

“Ah—oh,” his head tips back and this time you watch him. You get to view the gorgeous sight of Steve Harrington tip his head back, and silently swear under his breath. His eyes shut, mouth agape as he reacts to even the barest of touches. His lips are shiny from your lip gloss, pink and swollen slightly when his teeth sink into his bottom lip.

You nod, head falling forward slightly as you repeat the action, denim jeans and cotton panties soaking up any slick your needy hole might be leaking. Your hands shift down and plant on his chest, balling up the wool of his sweater. You needed to hold onto him. You do it again and Steve watches, he wants so desperately to see the way your brows pinch together and your mouth part to inhale sharply. Your thigh kicks up, nudging him, he jolts. 

“I—I want, I want your shirt off.” 

He takes a moment, still recovering from the little sensation that still seemed to set his body aflame, then his hands drop from your chest, curling around the ends of his sweater and when you let go of it, pulling it off his body, hair falling back a little more messy at the action. 

Your hands smooth over his chest, traces of regrowing hair flatten under your palms. You would make a note of asking him not to shave it anymore. Your view shifts to his face, Bambi eyes and parted lips meet you, you lean in. 

It's like instinct, the way your lips glide against his when you kiss. Tongues dart in and you can hear the sound of your own saliva mixing with his, you would have found it rather gross if you didn't like him so much.

You pull away, a line of spit connects the both of you. 

“Jeans.. I..,” you trail off.

“Yeah?” He doesn't finish the sentence for you, instead just urging you to instead. He wants to hear you say it, he wants you to tell him what to do again.

“I want them off,” you finally admit, swallowing after. 

Steve is hesitant at first, not because he doesn't want to, no, he wants to, the growing situation in his jeans definitely wants to. He's just not sure if you're ready yet, he swipes his thumb over your hip bone. 

“.. like?” 

“Can I… can I try somethin’ honey?” he asks, voice soft like the hum of a radio.

“I just want to make sure you're ready.”

“I told you I'm ready, Steve. I—I showed you, didn't I?” you say, brows pulling together in confusion. He cracks a smile.

“Not that kind of ready, I mean…” his tongue wets his bottom lip. “Wanna stretch you out a little before we really go all in, wanna make sure it doesn't hurt too much.”

:3 reblogs, notes, and comments are always appreciated!

I do not consent to my work being copy and pasted on any other platforms and I do not consent to it being used for ai!

[lillaydee]

Matchmade

Millionaire! Joel Miller / Reader

Having experienced traumatic, life altering events, a freshly divorced Joel worked to repay his debt to the person he owed his life to.

WARNINGS:

Good Parent Joel (The Last of Us), Soft Joel (The Last of Us), Joel Needs a Hug (The Last of Us), Joel Lives (The Last of Us), Protective Joel (The Last of Us), Alternate Universe - No Cordyceps Outbreak (The Last of Us), Character Death, Fluff, Angst, Eventual Smut.

SERIES MASTER LIST

---

Joel couldn’t sleep. For the life of him he couldn’t sleep. His mind kept replaying the look on his wife’s face as she left the room last week. Well, his ex-wife now. She hated him, after everything she had done to him, she hated him. Him, and everything that had to do with him, including Sarah. He couldn’t fathom it. What did Sarah do wrong? Where did everything go wrong? More to the point, when did everything go wrong?

Was it when they broke up the first time, because he had to take whatever job he could get to make sure his brother could go to college since his family couldn’t afford to send both of them? Was it when they broke up the second time, because he couldn’t give her all his attention since he had gone back to school for his own degree once he was a bit more stable? Was it the third time, when he had just started his own company, and got too busy trying to expand it, leaving him with hardly enough time to entertain her?

She stayed when they got together again, once his company had expanded. He was making good money, was successful enough to delegate to Tommy, who had graduated himself, and could afford to get them a nice house to live in, with plenty to spare to help his parents live a better life after working multiple jobs trying to feed him and his brother all their married lives. Sarah was a planned baby. Liz had insisted they try to get pregnant. When she gave birth to Sarah, who, to Joel’s eyes, was the most perfect little girl he had ever seen, Joel was over the moon. But Liz never connected with Sarah, despite quitting her nursing job at her own insistence to be a stay-at-home mom.

She demanded a full-time housekeeper, supposedly so she could give Sarah her full attention. The housekeeper, Mrs Adler, quickly became the nanny too, since she needed time for herself, for her mental health, every day. All day, every day. Her days were filled with mani-pedis, hair appointments, massages, yoga, shopping; coming home barking at Mrs Adler to order in for dinner. Joel honestly couldn’t recall the last time he had a home-cooked meal that wasn’t had at his parent’s. Sarah was never in her arms, never in her thoughts, but when she found out Sarah had started calling Mrs Adler Mama, she fired her on the spot, sending Sarah to his parents, supposedly to let her connect with her roots. Joel was out of town on for business, and Liz had left Sarah at his parents for three whole days without notice, calls and texts unanswered.

His accountant warned him of her spending. Thousands upon thousands of dollars spent daily without a single care in the world. Joel put a limit on her credit card, causing her to go berserk on him. He’s worth millions. What did it matter? She berated him for his frugality. Still driving a simple pickup truck when he could afford Ferraris, still living in a simple three bedroomed bungalow with a small pool and pool house instead of a mansion, still buying off-the-rack when he could afford tailor-made. Heck, his subordinates wore suits more expensive than his, a fact that always humiliated her at company events. When was he going to give up the stupid flannels?

Sure, Joel could afford all that. He worked hard every single day to make sure Sarah had everything she needed. He and Tommy grew up with nothing. He didn’t want that for her. He spared no expense when it came to Sarah, but at the same time, he didn’t want her to grow up spoiled.

His parents, brother, sister-in-law, the company lawyer, Maria, and his right-hand woman, Tess had always been aware of Liz’s pattern. She always came back to him after breaking up with him, but every time, it was because he had made significant financial advances. She would dump whoever she had left him for, and came back to him, spent his money, before dumping him again for someone with more money than him, always with the excuse that he wasn’t paying enough attention to her, when all he was doing was working his ass off to provide for her.

But when he really became successful, she stayed long enough to enjoy his money, so much so that they persuaded him to make her sign an iron-clad prenup when he proposed to her. She took offense, of course, but for once, Joel didn’t back down. Sign the prenup, or the wedding and the relationship were off. She signed it without reading it first, to prove to him that she was not with him for the money.

Personally, Joel was relieved when she did, thinking that his family was wrong, but he couldn’t blame them. They were looking out for him. He thought of tearing the prenup, but Tess and Maria persuaded him not to. Just to be safe. He thanked God he listened to them.

Joel had been patient through all her antics and demands, but when she fired Mrs Adler and left Sarah at his parent’s, he hit his limit. He came back early from his business trip to confront her, only to hear moaning from the bedroom. He couldn’t believe how calm he was when he heard them. He made his way to the bedroom, his phone out, recording everything, and found her in bed with an older guy, one of the married men that she was seeing while they were broken up.

She didn’t even react badly, just got off the man, who apologized profusely and ran out with his clothes in his hands, and arrogantly told him she wanted a divorce, and he’d better be prepared, because she was going to take him to the cleaners. She cheated because of emotional neglect, she claimed. She was lonely. He was always working – which was bullshit. He had been home every day at 5.30 without fail, save for a total of 34 days since Sarah was born. 34 days in three years.

She packed a bag and left, only to scream profanities at him when she discovered that the prenup had stated that she gets nothing in the event of infidelity. Joel had taken pity on her and deposited some money in her account, which had a substantial amount in it to begin with. She was, after all, Sarah’s mother, and the woman he used to love.

But after the signing of the divorce papers, she handed him a separate document. One where she signed away her parental rights to Sarah, not interested in the least to see her, parent her, love her.

That was what got Joel. Not her cheating, not her betrayal, not that she hated him. It was the fact that she didn’t want Sarah. An innocent little girl.

Joel spent the last week with Sarah, who, sadly, never even asked him for her mother. Such was her neglect to Sarah; the little girl didn’t even notice she was gone. She did, however, ask about her Nana and Papa, so Joel took her to their house, and decided to stay there for a bit, getting his mind straight.

Truthfully, he felt dumb. So stupid that he kept taking her back in over and over. He had never been a player, and Liz was his first serious girlfriend. He was in love with her. She was indeed a sweet young lady back in the day. When she started training to be a nurse, she started going out with her friends more, whereas he was often out at sea, working for days to weeks at a time. It was then that she met the upper class and began to see Joel as one of the lowers, a mere coolie who spent his time living on a smelly boat and touched fish for a living.

Joel remembered the early days of working as a deep-sea fisherman. He was scared at first, of course he was. But over time, he found the work fulfilling. Enough to take him out of his mind. The job was dangerous, requiring his maximum concentration, so he found that working helped him get through his heartbreak every time Liz dumped him, working himself to the bones to get her out of his mind. And yet, every time she came back, he took her in, blinded by the romantic notion of a happily ever after with her.

These days, he no longer goes out to sea as much, only doing so when absolutely needed to, and as a way to connect to his staff. He owned the company now; he had people to do the job for him. But today, he found that he needed to do this, to get his head down, and just work. It was supposed to be a short trip, just a few days, in the area, albeit way out at sea. The weather was supposed to be exceptionally fine. It was a newer boat. His parents had agreed to watch Sarah. So he kissed her goodbye and went off to sea.

Which brought him to where he was now. One week after his divorce, the ring line still on his finger, laid out in his cot, the boat swaying in the gentle sea, unable to sleep, wondering how his life had gotten to this point.

Somehow, he fell asleep, thoughts of Sarah and his future of raising her as a single father in his mind.

---

Joel woke up, his head throbbing. The sun was beating down on his wet body unforgivingly. His skin felt raw. His mouth dry, but his body wet. So wet. Uncomfortably so. His clothes were sticking to his body, he could feel water lapping on his feet. He was lying on his back, confused as to where he was. He was in his cot, where was he right now?

He was having trouble breathing, something was lodged in his mouth. He put his fingers in his mouth and felt something in it, he pulled. And immediately retched. A piece of seaweed came out, along with sea water and God knows what else. There was sand everywhere. On his person, in his nose, his mouth, his ears, underneath his clothes.

And all over.

He stood up with much difficulty and surveyed his surroundings. He was barefooted, on a beach. His sweatpants weighing heavily on his hips, plastered onto his legs. He tried to yell but instead, retched again. More seaweed came out, along with sand and seawater.

A searing pain came over him. A piece of wood was sticking out of his belly, and mindlessly, he pulled it out. Blood immediately came pouring out. He panicked. He took his shirt off and began tearing it into strips, plugging the wound, screaming from pain, leading to another retching episode, knocking him down to his knees. He laid back again, breathing heavily, the pain consuming his entire being. He bunched up some of the torn strips and plugged the wound again, almost passing out from the pain, before tying the plug in place with more strips. He laid there a while longer, eyes closed, trying to ignore the pain, before crawling his way to the shades from the trees a little way above shore, passing out again as soon as the sun was out of his face.

He woke up a few hours later, the sun lower now, no longer blazing hot as it was. The pain in his stomach was still there, but he had to move. He needed to know where he was and what happened. He got up, taking his time, the pain burning hot in his stomach with every single move he made.

Once he was as upright as he could get, he began to look around. At one glance, he could tell. He was on a small island, trees growing sparsely all over. Small enough that he could see its entirety from where he was standing.

Fuck.

What happened? How did he get here?

Sarah.

Shit. What had he done? He needed to get home to her.

How long had he been out? How long since he was on the boat?

The boat. Fuck, he could not get his thoughts clear.

His watch had stopped working.

He didn’t have anything on him. He was sleeping.

Fuck.

He followed the waterline, mindlessly picking up the odd bottles and pieces of clothing that seemed to have washed up along with him.

Think, Joel, think. You need to think.

He could not. He didn’t have any energy left. He went back under the trees, dropping the bottles and shirts he had found, and laid back down, the pain in his stomach taking over. His skin was on fire. It was peeling from sunburn. He was parched. He couldn’t hang on any longer. He fell back asleep.

---

“Hey, old man! Wake up!”

Joel must be dreaming.

“Wake up old man!”

He groaned.

“Hey! Wake up!”

His face was wet. It was dark. Joel opened his eyes, a blurry shape forming, someone was hovering above him. A girl. Ponytail.

“Get up!” she was screaming at him.

He lifted his head slightly.

“It’s raining. You should drink. You’re going to dehydrate.”

She watched him sit up. He cupped his hand immediately, collecting rainwater, drinking as much of it as he could, his thirst getting the better of him. He drank long and hard. The girl sat next to him, watching him drink his fill. She pointed to the bottles he collected when he stopped.

“You should fill those up. Who knows when it’ll rain again.”

Joel didn’t question it. He took the bottles and aimed them at a particularly heavy stream of water coming down from the leaves on the trees, washed the bottles as best as he could and filled them. He planted the bottles next to him and turned his attention to the little girl. She pointed to his wound next.

“Might want to clean that.”

He acted in pilot mode. He just did what she told him to do, untying the strip he had used, and using his remaining shirt to clean the wound as well as he could, before plugging and securing the wound back.

“Drink some more. You need it.”

And he did. He drank, and drank, and drank, until he could drink no more, and fell back asleep.

Joel did not realize in the darkness that the girl remained dry, while he was soaked to the bones in the rain.

---

When he opened his eyes again, the sun was shining high in the sky. His body was hot all over. He might have a fever. The little girl was still there. She looked to be a young teenager. Friendly little face.

“Hello, congratulations, you’re still alive.”

She watched him sit up and asked him to drink some more water.

“Where did you come from?”

“What do you mean?”

“I went around the island yesterday. I didn’t see anyone. Where did you come from?”

“You sure you didn’t see me? Cause I saw you.”

Joel thought about it for a moment. He was delirious. In pain. Panicked. Maybe she was right. But what the hell was a girl like her doing on this island, alone? Maybe she came from the surrounding islands? If so, he could go with her when she left, in whatever way she got here.

She pointed at a bright red shirt he had picked up yesterday.

“You need to tie that to a stick. Use it as a flag.”

Again, Joel just did what she said.

“Are you from the surrounding islands? How did you get here?”

“You need to stick that where people can see it. At the beach. Come on, I’ll show you where.”

She got up and started walking. Joel scrambled to his feet; his face contorted in pain.

“A little help, here?”

“Nope.”

“I’m in pain here, why can’t you do it for me?”

“I’m not your task monkey old man. Get up. Toughen up, it’s just a stab wound. Not like you were clubbed in the head or anything.”

She waited for him to get to where she was.

“What’s your name?”

“Joel. What’s yours?”

“Allison, but people call me Allie, with an A. I hate that though; I wish it was spelt with an E.”

“What’s the difference?”

“My teacher likes to call people alphabetically, by their first name. I always get called first, and sometimes you need a minute you know? To answer? Or make up an answer?”

Joel was perplexed by this girl. Talking about school and names, but what the hell was she doing here?

“Stick that here.”

She pointed to a spot on a beach that had less tree lines behind it.

Joel did just that.

“I saw a packet of something over there. You should get it. Maybe its food.”

The pain in his stomach was really bothering him now, and he was really out of breath just from sticking the makeshift flag into the ground.

“Can you please get it for us? I don’t think I can walk anymore.”

“Oh, come on you big baby. ‘Tis but a scratch! Come on old man!”

Joel followed, his sight almost whitening from the pain, but persevered. They got to the spot she mentioned, and sure enough, there was a packet of crackers washed up. She asked him to pick it up. Go on, old man.

He did so, with much difficulty, before following her back to his sleeping spot. She made him tie another shirt, the yellow one this time, to another stick. She made him drink more water, before asking him to eat some of the crackers.

He offered her some of both, but she declined. She’ll be alright, she said. He needed the energy. He’s the injured one. He kept asking her where she came from, and she kept deflecting. He ate maybe two of the crackers, and a few sips of water, wanting to save the rest, in case he got stranded longer, but she made him eat and drink more.

By the end of the five crackers and the few extra sips of water she made him consume, his eyes were heavy again. She watched him fall back on his back, wincing as he did so, and told him to rest.

“I’ll keep watch, old man, don’t you worry. I’ve got ya.”

And Joel fell back into a deep, deep sleep.

Allie watched him sleep, his eyebrows scrunched together, probably from the pain and his worries. She could see him. Really see him. The man that he was, the man that he could be. He’s perfect for what she had in mind.

---

“Joel! Joel! Wake up!”

Joel stirred.

“Wake up Joel! There’s a boat!”

Joel opened his eyes.

“There’s a boat. You need to go to the red shirt and wave the yellow shirt. Get up. Now! Now! Hurry!”

Joel got up as fast as he could, screaming in pain. He tried to grab Allie’s hand for help, but she moved away, towards the red shirt. He followed her as fast as he could, clutching the yellow shirt in his hand. She pointed to the sea, a boat clearly in the distance. She yelled at him to wave the yellow shirt, while it was still light.

So he did, as rigorously as he could. He screamed at the top of his lungs for help, certain that no one could hear him over the sounds of the waves, but he screamed, nonetheless. Allie was cheering him on, telling him to keep waving, keep screaming. Go on, old man, don’t give up! Wave! Scream!

His wound was killing him, he could feel it bleeding heavier and heavier as he waved the stick around, but it was working. The boat flashed its headlights at him, speeding towards the island.

Just as the boat was about to reach the shore, Joel collapsed, all his energy drained from his person, spent.

He laid there in the sand, as he heard men screaming his name.

His brother Tommy got to him first, a few men with him. They lifted him up and brought him to the boat. Someone placed a blanket over him, and gave him some water, which he drank thirstily.

Someone restarted the engine of the boat. Joel sat up suddenly and looked around. The man who was tending to his stomach pressed down, trying hard to stop the bleeding.

“Where is she?”

“Who?”

“Allison, Allie. The little girl who was with me.”

They gave him blank looks.

“There was a little girl on the island with me. You’ve got to go get her Tommy. We can’t leave her here. She’s just a little girl.”

They cut the engine of the boat. Tommy jumped down, along with another man, they ran to shore and looked around. The island was small and rather sparse. They could see the entire island from one spot. They ran around calling for Allison.

The man on the boat screamed at Tommy to come back. Joel was fading, his pulse weakening.

Tommy and the man came back, the engine was restarted.

“No, we have to bring her back.”

“Joel, there is no one here.”

“She was right there with me when I collapsed.”

Tommy stared at his brother, worry on his face.

“Joel, I saw you. We all saw you. You were alone. No one was with you.”

---

Part 2

[quxyivs]

The other half of me

Popular Boy! Lee Know x Loner Photographer! Black fem reader

Summary: Lee Know the schools heartthrob, Mr perfect, the pretty boy, sees you getting bullied by his ex and decides to step in. He offers to take you to the nurse and when you two meet again after you rejected his offer her learned that he doesn’t have to lie to himself when near you (College AU)

Troupe- Heartthrob x Loner (kinda)

Trigger Warnings! Fluff and angst, crying, cursing, bullying, a tad bit of fighting, blood (lmk if I missed anything!!)

You were sitting down in your seat on the train looking down at your camera as you made your way to school. When the train finally stopped you stood up and walked over your bag and camera in hand. You connected your Bluetooth headphones as you began walking out the train station and toward the campus.

You were eventually across the street from the campus. You looked at the gates and you took a deep breath before walking across the street and making it to the other side of the road. When you made it to the other side you walked towards the entrance, not before the same group of girls came beside you pushing you over and knocking you down causing you to hurt your leg.

“Fuck-!! Ow!!” You said as you sat up holding your bleeding knee. “Aww is the baby gonna cry? Gonna cry!! Grab her camera and take a picture too!!” Amia, your main enemy laughed loudly as another girl, Jio, grabbed the camera. When she picked it up you quickly stood up and snatched it back. “Leave me alone!” You said clenching your camera. “Who do you think you’re talking to!?” Just as Amia was about to slap you, Lee Know, the school heartthrob stopped her hand.

“Amia what the hell are you doing? Leave her alone.” Lee know said looking at Amia with a stern voice standing there waiting for her to leave. “But-!!” “Go.” “UGH!!” Amia stomped off with her friend mumbling underneath her breath. Lee know turned around coming closer towards you to get a look at your face before you backed up. “I didn’t need help..but thank you..” You said as you looked away from him and back away. “You’re welc-shit you’re bleeding come here let me help.” He reached out to grab your arm when you snatched it back from him. “Don’t!!..Don’t touch me. I can do it myself.”

You grab your bag from off the ground and limp to the nurses office. She wasn’t surprised to see you as this was normal for you by now. She sat you down on a chair as she disinfected the wound. As you sat there patiently waiting for her to finish the door to the office was opened again and in came Lee know. You were about to protest and tell him to stop following you when you saw him sit on the chair need the window and just look outside. Completely ignoring your presence.

You could tell he seemed a bit out of it so you decided to maybe snap him out of it. “What’s little Mr. Perfect doing here? Thought boys like you were too good to get into fights.” You said sarcastically rolling your eyes as you looked at him waiting for his response. “Well seeing as defending you got me dumped, I thought I’d come check in you.” He said honestly making you feel bad.

“Oh..I-I’m sorry I didnt…”

“It’s fine. She was annoying and bitchy anyways..just using me for my popularity and money..” For the first time in forever you felt like you knew him..? You and Lee know never spoke. Never even a wave but here he was pouring his true emotions out to you. You looked at him softly. “So why’d you get with her..?” You said softly but also sounding concerned. “My parents forced me to do it. They force me to do all of this.” He admitted as he looked at her.

You two made eye contact but it felt deeper than just a glare. “So you don’t want to be the schools ‘Heartthrob’ the ‘popular boy’ the-“ “Guy everyone wants to become because I’m rich and get girls? yeah. I hate it, wish I could just be left alone, kinda like you.” He said chuckling to himself dryly.

“..Why would you want that.. I mean being alone is well, lonely of course.. No friends and everyone thinks you’re just a weirdo. Being like this sucks.” You say chuckling as well looking down at your leg as the nurse walked in. “Oh? Is something wrong Lee know?” The nurse said looking at your leg and wrapping it as she spoke. “No just came in here to get away.” He said his voice quiet, almost like he wanted to go unheard.

“Well good thing I just went to restock….” She paused briefly. “You know.. you two are really the same.” She said with a soft smile as she finished wrapping your leg throwing away some of the bloody cotton balls. “How? We’re polar opposites.” You two said almost at the same time and then made eye contact.

“That’s how.” She giggled. “Well you two need to get to class now yes?? I’ll write you both a pass!” You awkwardly shifted in your seat before standing up preparing to leave as she finishes writing the note you find yourself gazing in Lee know’s direction. As you look at him, you find yourself lost in his presence. The way the sunlight hits all his features perfectly, the way his eyes shimmer, his slightly pink cheeks.. You find yourself unable to control your movements and you take out your camera and snap a picture of him. When the picture comes out the Polaroid you shake it and then look at it. Gorgeous. Pure perfection. You then snap out of your head when you hear the nurse snap.

“Stuck in la-la land over him aren’t we?” She chuckled. Nervous that you had been called out you just run out the room with your camera but dropping the picture. Lee know saw that you dropped something and he stood up to pick it up when he saw that what you dropped…was a picture of him.

He smiled and picked up the photo. The nurse who was watching it all smiled too as she crossed her legs

“Seems you found your other half.”

“Seems so..”

.

.

.

A/N- AH I spent SO long writing this!! I hope you guys like it!!! Lmk if you want this to be a series too(*≧∀≦*)

[lyricwritesprose]

Me versus a fanfic idea, trying to cohere

Having been watching some of "My Adventures With Superman" lately, and I have become kind of obsessed with a crack idea that came to me last night at fuck o'clock in the morning, that being: what if (in the MAWS continuity or any one in which the Kents are both alive) Jonathan and Martha got roped into briefly housing or fostering a teen after Clark was out on his own?

I mean. Like. Imagine you're this kid. You are staying with the most tragically uncool individuals on this planet, but they're honestly nice, they aren't bothered by all the stuff that got you labeled A Troubled Youth or the gender stuff you may have going on or any of that, they just seem fundamentally Able To Roll With It, and, okay, this is going to be fine. It's temporary anyway. Just keep out of trouble.

And they have an adult son who comes around sometimes? He's kind of nice too. Maybe twenty-one, twenty-two, he's built like a moose and you'd think he'd be imposing but he's kind of shy and awkward and somehow just fundamentally Not Like the people who beat you up before, so you're pretty chill with him. He knows all the good places on the farm to sit and think, or sit and draw. One time when he comes around he shows you the creek and you learn all about the frogs and the crawdads and the snakes. Tells you about the corn snake he rescued once. Stuff like that.

Only some things really don't add up.

Like, there's never a car in the driveway when he shows up. And it's not on weekends or anything like that, it's weird times.

And there's a note on the fridge that says, "If you drink all the milk please replace it THIS MEANS YOU," and before long you figure out it's gotta be meant for him, because he will take a gallon and finish it a glass at a time and who can even do that without throwing up? Wasn't there some kind of ghastly TikTok challenge about that?

And when you joked to his Dad and Mom that he seems to have a real superpower for figuring out whether there is going to be pie, you got such weird, almost nervous looks that you quickly dropped the subject.

And one time you swear he appeared out of absolutely nowhere to walk you back to the house because Mr. Peterson's bull broke the fence and is wandering this way. (He was the first one to realize this. How did he realize this? He's sort of guiltily evasive on the subject.)

And he reassures you one time that you don't actually need to fear the Kansas Mothman because he accidentally started that legend. How? He really doesn't want to talk about it.

What with one thing and another, you start wondering…

Maybe he's a ghost.

Maybe something awful happened and he can't move on. You don't want to suspect the Kents, they are honestly pretty top-notch for parental types (especially after some of the ones you've known) but other people in the town? You know personally how ghastly a small town can be to That Weird Kid. Maybe something really bad happened.

(Maybe it could happen to you too.)

So you've got to figure out what's going on so you can get justice for your friend. You start to investigate. Smallville does have rather more than its fair share of Weird Shit—like possibly a lot more—but you're not really getting anywhere. And it occurs to you that you don't really have the wherewithal to go and try to find—well, let's not put too fine a point on it, to find an unmarked grave—that could be anywhere.

Meanwhile the world has at this point in time started to see some Seriously Weird Shit, although at this point it's largely In Other Places because that's where everything in the world happens, there is absolutely Nothing Significant In Kansas and probably never will be, but it gives you an idea. Slightly insane and scary idea, but you've hit so many dead ends that it might be worth it.

You're going to try to contact Superman and see if he can use his rumored X-ray vision to figure out what happened to Clark.

…

Just to be clear, I have no idea what the ultimate punchline is for this piece of ridiculous meandering is, and it's the sort of thing that does require a pretty good punchline. So I don't know if it's ever actually going to get written. On the other hand, it is one of my favorite dishes, which is Canon Characters Helping Queer Kid, with a heavy helping of Following Logic-like Structures To Wrong Conclusions sauce.

So I thought I might post the idea, because I have this lovely optimistic belief that sometimes, I am in fact extremely funny, and tumblr is a place that often eggs me on.

[chihuahuawashere]

I watched MLP as a kid and sadly was one of the victims that got scared out of their minds when watching it on YouTube and clicked baited into watching those scary trauma inducing MLP videos.

But i blocked those out of my mind for the longest of time until i want back into it more years later reading all of the infected aus and it kinda me wondering. What if instead of infected MLP aus it was MLB?

Now stay with me, what if HawkMoths akumas infected the akumatized victims into slowing becoming monsters? Like at first okay you get akumatized and that’s okay because ladybug and chat noir will fix you in a day and yes that’s true but after that your mood feels different like you can never /truly/ be happy it’s like there’s a cloud or fog in your mind and you think your just obviously just going through the motions of what just happened.

But then you start to feel a little different, the primal instincts in your gut is telling you that something is going to happen and all your mental alarms are ringing like crazy but at this point it’s been a couple of weeks after your “accident” and nothing bad really happened aside from the normal akumazited victims that’s came after you.

So you feel like you shouldn’t be /too/ worried but after awhile it truly feels like your not in your own skin on top of that your intrusive thoughts become more and more louder. They’re so /loud/ and different from your other thoughts that you think someone else is in your head it feels so out of place that it genuinely scares you.

It’s not just that “oh f**k it let’s shave your head” no it’s so horrid and gruesome that your scared of even leaving your house in fears of hurting someone at that point it might be a month in since the “accident” and again nothing really changed in the world so you really think your going crazy but no.

Because now your body is literally physically changing. -like for example let’s use Nino since (after looking it up) he was the first akumatized victim. After going through the mood swings body aches and paranoia thoughts his skin is starting to change, he’s eyes are getting sucken and with black rings around it, (he thought it was because of the lack of sleep) but he also sees his face is a tab bit blue? But his chest looks red? And he’s hands and feet are turning black he chalks it up to his paranoia and locks himself completely in his room, he has alittle brother and doesn’t want to hurt him with aggressive his thought are getting.

The next time he looks into the mirror he’s arms and legs and stomach are swollen like they’ve been stung by a thousand bees and the different colors of blues yellows reds and blacks all more apparent now his body aches all the time and feels like it’s on fire even breathing feels like there’s fire in his lungs at this point it’s just straight up body horror. His skin is trying to recreate his akumatized body. And at this points It’s hard to even strung thoughts together to even come up with that conclusion on his own now all he feels is rage. And for what? What’s the reason for all this aggression?

He doesn’t know it’s just pure white hate in his mind and thought and at this point he’s to far gone. He can’t go to anyone for help.

(I honestly don’t know how he’ll get find out maybe by his parents worried why there sun hasn’t left his room or his little brother being curious of where his big bro went or many even Adrien checking up on how is friend is doing)

But I know that with all the other akumtized victims designs they’re body horror will go crazy and more and more of Marinette and Adrian’s classmates will going missing after their akumatized moments and the rest of the class plus the school PLUS everyone in Paris will be paranoid and making conspiracy theories on where they went and who’ll be next as tension rises in Paris (which ironically lead to more akumas) while even more pressure lies on Ladybug and chat noirs shoulders and the citizens of Paris are now aggressive towards them wondering what happened to their kids/loved ones and why is this happening.

Either way I’m gonna end it here I wanna hear your thought and ideas and expand further on this becuase I think it’ll be really fun to talk about it might even turn into the apocalypse they also went to china and New York. Sorry if there’s misspelling or bad grammar and I made all of this in a rush but hopefully you all like this idea! I don’t really know what to call this au other than infected MLB au so please interact/talk to me so we can all have fun and expand this AU further !

♥️

[felixcloud6288]

Dungeon Meshi Chapter 61

It's back to those two guys.

Before this, the only hint to what Kabru's life under his foster mother was a single panel in chapter 55 showing him being a bit annoyed at her hugging him. He commented that things will get tiresome if he has to ask for her help.

Honestly, it's always difficult for a parent to realize their children are growing up. It's probably even harder for elves since their children grow much slower. So an elf raising a non-elf would probably struggle to realize how quickly their kid is growing. It's probably a similar vibe to having a dog all their life and still thinking of them as a baby even when they're old.

This shot made sure you noticed all the scars on her arms.

Over the entire page this panel is in, her arms became more visible as Kabru kept talking about wanting to go into the dungeons and asking her to train him to fight.

Even if she is strong, she didn't walk out of dungeons unharmed. No matter how strong you are, death is always a possibility when it comes to the dungeons.

I almost feel like she trained Kabru wrong on purpose. As I've pointed out before, Kabru's fighting style is better suited to assassination than monster hunting. And the only glimpse we see of his training was him fighting her and her dolls. She wanted to make him give up on swordsmanship. But if that failed, not giving him the skills needed to actually explore a dungeon might discourage him as well.

Mithrun is pragmatic. Even if he might have any negative feelings about what Kabru pulled, it's not like he can get through the dungeon alone, especially since they ended up all the way down the sixth floor.

I do have to question how they ended up in the sixth floor specifically. I can understand ending up all the way down to the fifth floor since the subterranean graveyard stretches wider than the second through fourth floors, but the sixth floor is entirely underground.

The fall was entirely due to Thistle's magic, so he probably just erased everything directly below the area that collapsed, leaving an opening to the sixth floor.

Kabru confirmed a few things about the Canaries. The ear notches indicate the criminals in the group. Meanwhile Pattadol and Mithrun are nobles in charge of them. Do only guards have those fairy companions?

Kabru's notes on Mithrun mention black eyes are rare for an elf. Since his eyes seem to change color when he strongly emotes, there's probably something to that.

And of course Kabru doesn't find Mithrun interesting. Mithrun has no personality to speak of.

Got excited to see another shapeshifter. I really wish we got more recurring monsters throughout this series. Most of them just appear for one chapter, get eaten, and then never appear again.

And shapeshifter is its actual name since Mithrun called it that. When Laios's team encountered it, "shapeshifter" seemed to be a generic term for monsters like certain types of slime, succubi, or magic mirrors that use mimicry or illusions to infiltrate a group.

Mithrun has totally used his teammates as projectiles in the past.

While the fake Mithrun might look and behave exactly like the real one, there's no way it has the same information the real one has. When Laios's party encountered the shapeshifter, only the real Laios could explain what was happening. And the party identified his fakes because they couldn't chime in at all.

Since Kabru didn't know what a shapeshifter was, I'm inclined to believe the Mithrun on the right is the real one. He led the discussion on shapeshifters, and Kabru could have filled in the blanks allowing the left Mithrun to say what he said.

The Mithrun who suggested they leave to dispel the illusion, the one who contacted the canaries, and the one who was generally in the forefront of each group shot is also likely the real one.

Meanwhile, I can't tell for the life of me which one is the real Kabru.

This will be fun to see animated. I think the fairy switched between Fleki, Otta, and the guy who turns into a wolf. Fleki's name got dropped in the conversation.

Mithrun couldn't tell which Kabru was the real one.

Despite being a guard and (presumably) being second-in-command, Pattadol does not get much respect in the group. Cithis seems to be the real second-in-command.

Cithis said it will take about a week before they can come for the captain. On Laios's side, seven or eight days have passed since he parted ways with Kabru. So the Canaries likely are already deep in the dungeon when the Winged Lion warned Laios about them last chapter.

Love seeing how much psychic damage Laios has caused Kabru. This looks like the poster of a cheap B horror movie from the 1950s.

Haven't seen anything this poor in nutrition since Falin's skeleton.

Kabru is trying so hard to cozy up to someone who doesn't care at all.

He's treating Mithrun the same way his foster mother treated him at the start of the chapter.

Kabru is manipulative and always tries to see through people to figure out who they really are underneath. Ironically, Laios has given him an entirely wrong impression by just acting like himself and willingly sharing his bizarre interests.

From a physics perspective, this works and makes sense and I kind of hate that it does.

Since things like momentum and velocity are kept when teleporting, a falling object that is teleported in place but flipped upside-down would still keep its relative velocity. This would probably make for an interesting physics problem. "An object falling at terminal velocity is suddenly teleported upside-down causing its velocity to now go upward. How many seconds will the object move upward and how long does it take for it to return to falling at the same speed before it was teleported?"

Kabru and Mithrun have apparently found the Touden party's lost gear before they did. So they're only several hours ahead of the party at this point. I bet the shapeshifter from earlier is the same one Laios's party encounters.

The dungeon will provide various necessities when anyone in it wishes for them. Mithrun said to not wish often though. The dungeon is feeding off desires so it probably becomes stronger every time someone looks for a place to rest.

Big bombshell reveal.

So Mithrun probably was trying to be sympathetic to Thistle during their fight. Mithrun was also a dungeon lord and he may have been trying to convince Thistle to give up his title before whatever happened to Mithrun and his unit happens to Thistle.

Mithrun is stoic and unemotive, so him making these faces and these dramatic gestures while talking about being a dungeon lord means whatever happened was serious.

back

[mikeypubes]

ੈ✩‧₊˚ ryuguji ken relationship headcanons ੈ✩‧₊˚

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SFW

so if he likes you, you're never going to find out 🤷🏻‍♀️

this man leaves no hints whatsoever and treats you like a rando.

he has probably liked you for years, honestly. he never spoke up about it, though, for a couple of reasons.

also because he's not too interested in romance at the moment. he has bigger worries (like mikey 😐)

he is self-conscious and aware though so he'll notice if you like him right away.

he's pretty serious about relationships and whatnot so he doesn't wanna rush things, or get into a relationship he's unsure of.

he needs to make sure you both want this and both have the same feelings before getting into it, and any relationship will be long-term for sure.

and when he does date, he's dating for marriage 100%

so when you do confess, he'll get pretty shy and just mumble that he feels the same way.

anyways into the actual relationship !

forehead and head kisses.

if you want a real kiss you're not getting one unless you start it 😁

later on into the relationship, he'll get more comfortable and MAYBE he'll give you a small peck in a private, romantic situation.

he's super soft and gentle, but he'll be way too shy to initiate anything at the beginning.

his love language would be quality time and maybe acts of service, and occasionally some gift-giving.

i can see him finding an ugly plushie and giving it to you while laughing cheekily because it "looks like you" 👍

if you try to feed him in public he is NOT taking the bite.

PDA will never happen, at the very most hand-holding just because you insisted.

he's super overprotective.

you're not going out at night alone, he's always always gonna walk you back home and make sure you're inside safely till he leaves.

your mother ADORES him because he's so respectful towards elders and especially your parents, he wants to make a good impression.

he's honest and truthful, so when he says he'll never hurt you, he genuinely will never.

he would hate it when you wear overly revealing stuff, like super short shorts or a short skirt, so he'd try to cover you up with his sweater.

also I feel like if you try to wear his clothes, he'll pretend he hates it but he would probably find it adorable SUPER DEEP inside.

he low-key carries snacks you like around when he's with you, and he always has a hair tie on his wrist (and he'd lie and tell you it's for him).

he always plays with your hair and braids it, but if you play with his he'd tell you to stop even though secretly loves it (it's so relaxing for him, he'll probably lay his head in your lap and fall asleep).

also, he will FIGHT for you, like if some guy (especially from another gang) is really out of line, he'll get so pissed.

he would lose it if you got hurt. (this sounds so cringey)

he doesn't want you to get too involved with his gang activities because he knows how vulnerable you are and how dangerous gangs can be, especially since he and mikey have so many enemies.

also, you're going to automatically know mikey. for sure.

get used to draken ditching you for mikey's random ass whims 😜

also get used to seeing draken covered in someone else's blood.

like i can imagine him finishing up a fight, then coming to your house in the middle of the night covered in bruises and you'll be like "omg?? what happened??" and he'll act so cool and chill like "just cleaned up a mess."

and he kind of looks hot, too.

he likes it when you tend to him, though.

he'll probably sit on the edge of your bed while you're standing close to him, focused on disinfecting the scratches until you feel a soft kiss pressed to your forehead.

he'll ruin the mood by suddenly grunting and lecturing you "that hurts, idiot."

this is pretty random but I feel like he always and I mean always smells good. he hates strong colognes so he always has a soft but nice smelling cologne on.

I feel like he subconsciously flexes how tall and strong he is, like seeing you struggle to open a jar and he'll come over all nonchalant and open it so easily.

when he's in a nice mood, he'll be really teasy and romantic. he loves seeing you get all red and flustered.

he prefers hugs over kisses just because they're not as embarrassing. also because he loves feeling your warmth around him.

if he ever makes you cry, he'll feel so guilty and would try to make up for it in indirect ways, but if was because of an argument, he'll apologize properly. he's really mature.

but do not disrespect him. he needs to feel respected in a relationship otherwise it won't work out.

he's surprisingly innocent, like he does not have ulterior motives. he'll THINK of things, yeah, but he won't look at you in an assholery way.

NSFW

I think it would take a long time to get into it, honestly.

he's really big on trust and communication, so if you both are 100% sure you want it, then he'll prepare for it really well.

it'll have to be at your house. he will never do it at his place, he'll die of embarrassment. plus he cannot take the teasing from everyone who works there knowing that he brought a girl to his bedroom (and it's pretty obvious what they would do all by themselves in there).

he would want you to be relaxed too, and doing it in a strange environment surrounded by loud sounds (if yk what i mean 💀) might have you on edge.

he would feel so much better knowing you totally trust him and show him yourself in a vulnerable state.

either way, he's obviously slow and gentle. it's also embarrassing for him, since he's never done it before this time.

he probably likes boobs the most

he would have done some in-depth research to make sure you won't feel any discomfort.

and he makes sure it's totally safe.

his aftercare is amazing, too. he'll properly clean the both of you up, and actually take care of you. if you want water, tea, anything, he's got you.

anyways yeah that was pretty long

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