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#but also i feel like this is one of the first things they must be teaching those kids at the ninja schools
limarieb · 2 days
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so high school
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Pairing(s): Wanda Maximoff x fem!reader
Summary: Growing up, you could never understand how people your age were so romantically interested in other people. You begin to understand for the first time, however, when you encounter a certain Sokovian during your first semester of university.
Warnings: mentions of underage drinking, college!au, friends (?) to lovers, college au, making out, slight angst (but not really)
Word Count: 4.0k
Author's Note: everyone say thank you taylor swift for the spontaneous new fic! also this is lightly proofread, so edits might be made later oops
Main Masterlist | ao3 | Wattpad
...
Growing up, you never truly dated anyone. Sure, you had crushes on fictional characters in the media you consumed, and you allotted arguably too much time to admiring celebrities online; but, you never saw anyone in your personal life in such a light. At various hangouts and sleepovers over the years, you noticed just how much your friends discussed their love lives. Hushed whispers and sighs of the same phrase, “I really like them,” flooded your ears in the hallways at school. You had originally tried to join in on the conversations, not wanting to be excluded, but you simply couldn't engage in them wholeheartedly; eventually, the inability to relate began to upset you. You naturally boiled it down to something that must have been wrong with you — how could it possibly be normal to be like this when everyone else around you seemed to share these romantic sentiments?
Thankfully, you became completely preoccupied, both mentally and physically, by the prospect of university. By the time your junior year of high school had started, your love life — or lack thereof — no longer held too much importance to you. Instead of keeping whimsical love letters on your desk like others your age did, you opted to pile various books. From Camus to Aristotle, you discovered a deep fascination and affinity to the field of philosophy and the metaphysical discussions it posed. Therefore, when your senior year had arrived, you threw yourself head first into your studies, determined to build up your application in order to get into a top university.
After accepting your offer into one of the best philosophy programs in the nation, you anticipated your time at university, daydreaming about all of the things you would study and all of the people you would meet there.
But never could you have anticipated someone like Wanda Maximoff.
You had met her during one of your introductory courses in your first semester. Wanda was the type of person that, upon first glance, you would be scared. Not just because she was undeniably pretty, but she also had this stone cold exterior to her. Her lips were permanently etched into a slight frown, and she never really showed too much expression while she spoke during class. To put it simply, she intimidated you; so, you settled on admiring the brunette from afar (two seats up, one to the left — if you were to be specific).
Your plans changed, however, after the two of you got assigned to be partners for a class project. It was just a presentation, but it required you both to meet outside of class to work on it. You would be a liar if you said your heart didn't skip a beat at the thought of seeing Wanda outside of these four walls of your classroom, even if it was just to work on this assignment.
Seemingly unbothered by it all, she gave you her number for you to set up a date and time to meet. Her messages were all business, but they still made you feel like a dopey teenager every time her name showed up on your screen.
The day quickly came for you both to work on the presentation. Ultimately, you had settled on the two of you meeting in your dorm, which you made sure to deep clean before she came. You were not necessarily messy by any means, but the idea of Wanda, the most daunting person you could imagine, stepping into the safe space of your room made your blood run cold for some reason.
As Wanda knocked on your door, you rushed to open it. The two of you stood face to face for a moment, divided only by the doorframe. She still had her typical frown, but you noticed it shift into the slight uptick of a smirk. After a moment had passed, she finally broke the silence. "Are you gonna let me in, or...?" she asked, teasing you and your awkward nature.
Your cheeks flushed in embarrassment as you stepped aside for her to enter, "Oh, right... Sorry."
You led her to your side of the room, where she stood for a moment analyzing all of your possessions. You felt small as she did so, like a tiny insect under a bright, unsettling microscope.
She suddenly turned to face you, dropping her bag on the floor, "So, are we gonna work on this or not?"
That is how you found yourself on the floor, her laying on her back and you on your stomach. You had your computer in front of you, typing furiously as she provided you the words and ideas. You glanced over at her every now and then, especially if she was being awfully silent.
Most times, she would just be looking up at the ceiling in thought, her brown hair sprawled in random patterns underneath her; however, after a particularly long bought of silence, you looked over at her to find her gaze directly on you. You quickly returned your eyes to the screen of your computer and began typing whatever came to your mind. You hoped she did not notice the blush rise to your face.
She did.
She sighed, turning her body to lay completely facing you. "You're very quiet, you know," she stated, closely observing your reactions highlighted by the light of your screen.
Unsure of how to respond, you simply say, "So I've been told."
"Oh," she exclaimed, her smirk from earlier returns. "She has jokes."
You hum in agreement, "Just a few, unfortunately."
With the project now finished, the two of you abandoned it in favor of simply talking to each other. Never would you have guessed that Wanda could be this... warm. Unlike what you had witnessed in the classroom, she was very friendly and sarcastic in the privacy of your dorm.
You discovered a lot of information about the brunette during this conversation, such as how she loved coffee but only if its iced, how she never loved texting (preferring to call or talk in-person) but will do so if she must, how she immigrated with her twin brother from Sokovia when they were children. As she recounted her memories from Sokovia, you could hear the accent she once had poking through the surface; although, you did not point it out, afraid it was an insecurity of hers. Maybe you would tell her another time how nice it sounded, but for now, you bonded with her about collecting CDs and vinyl records from various artists.
While the two of you casually spoke, all you could think about was her — how pretty she was under the dimmed lighting of your dorm, how every joke she told was the epitome of humor, how much you wanted to stay in this moment with her. She was perfect.
Is this what people were talking about in high school?
As the night came to an inevitable end, you found yourself feeling quite sad, for you no longer had an excuse to hang out with Wanda. Though she had her number, you did not have the confidence to use it and ask if she wanted to meet up again.
You did not have to worry too much about it. As she packed her belongings back into her bag, swinging it over her shoulder, she spoke, "You know, you're pretty cool, Y/N."
You tried to hide the shock caused by her words, "Thank you, I think?"
She chuckled lowly, "My friends are having this thing at my place this weekend, if you wanted to join?"
Your head perked up, eyes blinking rapidly in shock. Unable to deny her offer, you nodded, "Yeah, sure... okay."
“Great,” she replied, walking toward your door. You followed behind her and reached around to open for her. She smiled at the gesture before speaking again, “I’ll text you later with the details and everything. See you in class.”
“Yeah, see you,” you returned. As you closed door behind her, you feel your mind finally catch up to reality: you, the stereotype of a nerd with very few friends, are going to hang out with Wanda and her friends.
You close your eyes, leaning your head onto the back of the door. “Oh, shit,” you whisper aloud into the open air. What have you just gotten yourself into?
Decoding your own thoughts and feelings about the Sokovian in the days leading up to your next class had revealed just how infatuated you had become; yet, you didn't even know how to act upon them. For years, you had only observed romantic behaviors from the outside looking in, whether it be through your friends' dating experiences or the words on a page from whichever sapphic novel you had picked to read. Now that you finally found yourself in the loop, what were you supposed to do?
Should you message her about whatever? No, that would come across as needy and overbearing.
What if you found her after class and ask to hang out again? No, that's even more overbearing than the text message.
The internal war waged on, resulting in your mind and body being paralyzed out of anxiety. For now, you have settled on simply waiting for her message regarding this weekend and presenting your assignment with her this week during class.
Days later, you walked into the class, practically shaking from your nerves about the presentation and the girl that you had to present with (who had just so happened to become your first teenage crush over the span of weeks).
You sat down in your unofficially assigned seat. Being so focused on the way your leg bounced repeatedly, you failed to notice the familiar brunette enter the classroom. Instead of sitting in her typical seat, however, she dropped her bag on the floor by the seat directly next to you.
Wanda instantly noted your nervous demeanor. While she had her own anxieties regarding the presentation and such, hers remained within her mind. She never showed such things outwardly, unless she was with someone with who she felt undeniably comfortable expressing those thoughts.
She slid into the seat and reached over to place her hand on your bouncing leg. Immediately, you noticed the feeling of someone's hand, breaking the chain of your anxious thoughts; upon glancing to your side, you discovered the culprit: Wanda.
"Hey," she started. "Everything is going to be fine, I promise."
Unable to find the words currently, you opted to remain silent, but you provide her with a uncertain nod in return. With a squeeze of her hand as a final attempt at reassurance, she placed her hand back within her lap and waited for the class to begin.
As always, Wanda was right. Your presentation went well; there were a few instances of stumbling words on your part, but otherwise it went great.
When the two of you returned to your seats, she leaned over and muttered under her breath for you to hear, "Told you so."
As you began to do your typical nighttime routine that evening, you heard your phone go off. Unsuspecting to who it was, you tapped on the screen under the assumption that it was just another email added to your overflowing inbox. You were wrong yet again.
Wanda: hey y/n !! are you still able to make it to the thing this weekend?? its gonna be on saturday at my place... lmk !!
You stared at the message for a moment before confirming you would still be in attendance, of course. Was it normal for your heart rate to speed up this much from mere words on a screen?
Saturday night rolled around quicker than you had anticipated. It was almost time to leave, yet you were currently standing still in your pajamas, surrounded by the miscellaneous clothing items you had thrown around. Ultimately, you had settled on the outfit you had first chosen, resulting in a bunch of unnecessary cleaning afterwards.
When you arrived to her place, you promptly knocked on the door. A moment passed before the door creaked open to reveal the Sokovian. Her outfit was considerably more casual than others you had seen her wear around campus. She stood in front of you, adorned with an oversized band tee and jeans; her fingers were still littered with her usual assortment of rings. However, the thing that surprised you the most was her lack of makeup. Not that she needed it, of course; in fact, it was quite the opposite. Tonight she seemed to have abandoned her typical heavy eyeliner and rose-colored shade of lipstick, choosing to only use her mascara and some chapstick.
"Sorry for the jumpscare," Wanda joked, her nose scrunched in amusement from your reaction. She continued to explain, "I know I'm dressed down compared to class. I just don't like putting in the effort to get ready sometimes, especially to just hang out with friends."
"No!" you exclaimed, quickly trying to backtrack the way she took your shocked expression. "No, you're fine. You're beautiful, actually, I just- I was just surprised to see you without the eyeliner and all."
Her cheeks became flushed at the compliment, but you seemed to miss it being overly concerned with your own response. She chuckled at your awkwardness, "Thanks. Oh, you can come in, by the way. I think everyone is here now."
She introduced you to each friend, after which you gave an insecure wave in return.
As the night progressed, you gradually loosened up. Whether it was time or the alcohol in your bloodstream, it frankly did not matter to you. You were not drunk by any means but definitely buzzed enough to not worry about every single decision you made. You even talked to one of Wanda's friends, Natasha, for awhile without the Sokovian present (given that she had left to use the restroom, but it still counts in your mind).
Suddenly, you were sat on the floor, playing childish party games with the others. It was fun, you couldn't lie... until it wasn't. You had already survived Truth or Dare, but someone (Tony) had suggested Spin the Bottle. With no romantic history, it was practically a given that you subsequently had not kissed anyone yet. For your first kiss to be during a stupid game of Spin the Bottle would be depressing; but, you didn't want to be the loser who said no to playing because the reason would be too humiliating to explain.
So, you elected to power through the hesitation, hoping the bottle just would not land on you.
At first, you were confident. The game was now three rounds in, and you remained lucky.
Eventually, the group had noted your lack of participation and had chosen to give you a "free spin." You silently prayed it would at least land on someone with whom you had become somewhat acquainted. With a shaky hand, you reached forward, spinning the emptied beer bottle. In the moment, it felt like the bottle would never stop spinning, but, once it did, it felt like time froze altogether.
It landed on Wanda.
Though you liked the brunette, you truly did not want your first kiss to be this way, especially with her.
She instantly noticed your apprehension. Turning to where Tony sat in the circle, she offered, "Hey, what if we did a hybrid of this and Seven Minutes in Heaven?"
Your eyes widened at the question, feeling unsure about all of this.
With a smirk on his face, Tony agreed, "I like the way you think, Maximoff. Alright, new girl, go follow Maximoff, and don't have too much fun while you're gone."
Before walking off with Wanda to the nearest bathroom, she briefly turned around to aim her middle finger at the boy. Though you were extremely overcome with anxiety about what was about to occur in the bathroom, you released a chuckle at her response.
She pulled you into the bathroom, flipping the lights on. As the door clicked shut, you faced her with your back against the wall.
"So, um, what are we supposed to do?" you asked.
"We don't have to do anything, Y/N," she replied, leaning against the bathroom counter. "I just noticed you weren't very comfortable with the idea of kissing me out there, so I improvised a little bit."
"Oh, okay," you breathed out. "Just for the record, it was not the idea of kissing you that made me uncomfortable. You- You're cool, so, it's fine."
Wanda tilted her head in curiosity, clearly not expecting that response. "Oh?" she questioned. "What was it then? Because I could clearly tell you were not very comfortable in there... I mean, you were visibly stiff."
"It's not you, I just..." you looked away, unable to meet her gaze.
"'It's not you, it's me'?" she joked, narrowing her eyes.
"Yes! No! I mean..." you exhaled. "It's not that the idea of kissing you makes me uncomfortable because, believe me, it very much doesn't. I just- I've never done this before."
The blood rushed to your cheeks during your admission. You felt utterly embarrassed, wishing you could just be back in your dorm in this moment.
"Y/N," she called softly. Despite every ounce of your body screaming at you to not do so, you returned your gaze to the Sokovian. "Do you want to kiss me?"
You couldn't read her tone. A part of you was nervous, maybe this was all some sick joke between her and her friends; yet, the other part of you was thrilled by the proposition alone.
"I wouldn't oppose," you muttered, automatically employing humor as your defense mechanism.
Wanda rolled her eyes at your antics, "Ok, then, let's play a new game." She looked down at her phone, checking the time. "We have less than four minutes in here."
Confused by the sudden change, you acquiesced in her request, "Okay?"
She stepped closer to you, standing a foot away.
Her tongue escaped her mouth, briefly licking her lips, before she proposed, "Are you going to marry, kiss, or kill me?"
Your eyes widened at the unexpected question, but you attempted to recover in order to return her playful energy, "Can I choose all three?"
Her eyebrow had risen, the infamous smirk forming on her lips. Slowly, she inched closer and closer to you until you could feel her breath on your skin. One hand found refuge on your hip, while the other she brought to the side of your face. She used her fingers to tuck a few loose strands of hair behind your ear then cradled your face. You licked your own lips and closed your eyes in anticipation.
Then, you felt it. Her lips brushed against yours, softly and slowly as if she were testing the waters. It was only a peck, but you swear your heart burst from the experience.
A moment passed before she pulled away enough for her to speak.
"Was that okay?" she inquired, ensuring you were still interested in this.
"More than," you affirmed.
She smiled, "Good, because we still have a few minutes left, and I intend to use them."
Without another second, she connected your lips once again. This time was different, however; there was a newfound fervor behind it. Her kisses started slow like the initial pace, gradually becoming quicker and deeper. Uncertain about what to exactly do, you continue to follow her lead. You felt her slide her tongue across your lips, asking for entrance. How could you ever deny her that? As her tongue began to clumsily caress with yours, a familiar feeling settled in the pit of your stomach, but you ignored it and kept kissing her.
A knock at the door pulled you both back into reality.
"Time's up, lovebirds," the voice called. "Clothes better be on and straightened when you leave."
Wanda chuckled at her friend's words and bit her lip. For the first time, you think you see her outwardly nervous. She swallowed as she shifted her gaze from your lips to meet your eyes, "Hey, I um- I hope this wasn't a one time thing."
You sighed in relief, "With you? Never."
She leaned forward once more, placing a final peck on your lips before grabbing your hand to return to the circle. Instead of your prior placements on the floor, in which she sat on the other end, Wanda refused to let go of your hand, instead pulling you to where she had been sitting.
Thankfully, no one mentioned how your cheeks were now incredibly plagued with a pink hue, allowing the game to continue onward.
After the group decided to finish playing games and turn on a movie, you followed Wanda to the couch in order to sit next to her. As soon as you found your place at the end of the sofa, she gravitated closer, leaning into your side. Her head rested on your shoulder as if you both had been close for years.
The movie American Pie started playing, all of her friends too engrossed in it to note how the two of you were cuddled up together. She picked her head up from its place on your shoulder. You didn't think too much of it, imagining her neck must have simply gotten uncomfortable in that position.
However, she turned her head to face you, taking in the sight of you and her friends all hanging out and watching a movie. Unable to resist herself any longer, she leaned in closer, her breath hitting your ear as she whispered to you, "I can't focus on the movie. All I can think about is kissing you right now."
You rotated your head to face her, biting your lip at her words. "Shush, your friends are here," you quietly argued, but you were secretly enjoying her antics. You peered over her shoulder, observing her friends who sat quietly with their attentions fully focused on the film.
Wanda pressed a soft kiss to the base of your neck prior to returning to its original position on your shoulder. You sighed at the feeling of her affection, wondering if it would linger forever.
Soon enough, the movie ended, and it was time to go home for the night. Her friends had left moments ago, but not without saying how you should "come around more often." Honestly, you were deeply excited that you received their approval, especially after the recent developments with Wanda.
You stayed behind for a little, attempting to garner as much alone time with Wanda as you could without being interrupted.
With the others now gone, you allowed Wanda to be more affectionate; or rather, you allowed her to give in to her desires and kiss you again, and again, and again.
After the final peck, you pulled away with the cheesiest smile and swollen lips. She loved seeing you this way: giddy and carefree.
"I really like you, Wanda," you proclaimed with a sigh, effectively breaking the comfortable silence between the two of you. "Like, a lot."
"I really like you, too," she replied. "You know, in case it got lost in translation with the kissing and everything."
You playfully slapped the side of her arm. "I'm serious," you started. "You make me feel so... high school."
She raised her brow, gesturing for you to continue.
You resumed, "I never felt like this, especially during high school. For a while, I actually thought something was wrong with me." Her lips formed a slight pout at your past conflict. "I was always so... jealous of others my age, having all of these teenage experiences with crushes and romance. Since I never did, I just assumed that it was my fault, that something was wrong with me. It was isolating; it felt like some inside joke that everyone else knew about except me. But, I'm happy I waited, truthfully, because now I can experience all of those high school feelings with you."
End.
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yandere!ceo with villainess!reader scenario [part two]
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warnings: implied infidelity, implication of obsessive thoughts or love, workplace toxicity, non consensual surveillance.
There might be potential triggers in this piece. If you do not feel comfortable with reading it, please hit the 'back' button on your phone or laptop and find something much more pleasant to read than a potential series of unfortunate events.
You are responsible for your Internet consumption.
Reblog to support content creators! ❤️
Hey guys, and welcome to part two of my new original yandere oc x series, featuring the good-looking prick and CEO of his family's conglomerate, Yeo Jung-Hwa.
This is a collaboration between me and the incredibly talented @deathmetalunicorn1. Special thanks to @pinkgoldweebgirl for their honest feedback on the earlier drafts of this project and @impeakcharacterdesign for being my beta-reader for the final draft.
I definitely was not expecting such positive feedback on the first part in less than a week, so thank you all for reblogging, liking, and commenting your thoughts on it, they really made some of my more stressful days in the medical field a little brighter :)
Also, if the lofi vibes nor are the clothes written in here aren’t your thing, feel free to insert whatever is your preferred interior theme and fashion/clothing style.
So with that being said, sit back, relax, and enjoy the drama being unfolded on the stage.
Part one
Yeo Jung-Hwa was unhappy with the series of events that had occurred at the office. Hyueng Mun-Hee had bursted into his office with tears streaming down her bright red face, sobbing about how she cannot stand being bullied by the team manager of her department any longer. Who was the team manager?
You. His fiancee. The woman he must marry. A promise between his father and yours that would be beneficial to everyone involved - everyone except him. Wasn’t he entitled to experience pure joy of being loved and in love? To be with someone who wasn’t tiresome and annoyed him all the time? 
Meeting Hyeung Mun-Hee had felt like seeking the sky for the first time. She was a breath of fresh air to his stifling world. Hearing your most recent act of cruelty towards her had been the final straw. And like any self-respecting CEO, he texted the CFO to look into it before all hell had broken loose. He was receiving emails from the managers of all the other departments left and right, all with the same attachment. Botched up documents. And the one who had sent it was none other than Hyeung Mun-Hee. 
But he didn’t believe it at first.
 He truly thought it was another underhanded trick you had created to get Hyeung Mun-Hee fired because that’s exactly the sort of person you are to him; a dishonest, greedy, arrogant woman whose saving grace as a human being is an excellent work ethic. Once he had calmed his darling, drying her tears with his handkerchief, he marched into the Finance Department and demanded answers from you as soon as he got off of the phone with his panicked CFO. Instead of apologizing for what you did, you explained how Hyeung Mun-Hee made mistakes and you gave her a chance to fix them, but she did not correct them. She completed the required training. She knows how to calculate and make spreadsheets, so why is she pushing her work onto others? 
More importantly, you fixed her mistakes and sent out the correct ones to the other departments. Everything has been resolved, but you wanted Hyeung Mun-Hee to attend the company’s financial seminars to ensure that this embarrassing incident does not happen again. As much as he despised you, every point you made was correct…especially after he retreated to his office and compared the budget allocations on his monitors; Hyeung Mun-Hee’s on the left and yours on the right. The numbers in his darling’s work were completely off, and they could have cost the company hundreds of thousands if the situation hadn’t been resolved. 
He was certain that it was sheer dumb luck. 
Just because you had prevented a major internal disaster from occurring doesn’t mean he would ever look at you as he looked at Hyeung Mun-Hee. In a cesspool filled with hypocrites and liars, his darling is a breath of fresh air. Pure, kind-hearted, committed. Loving. So many qualities you lacked. Yet is it all that it seems? He thought, sitting alone in his home office late at night. If Hyeung Mun-Hee made these mistakes, why didn’t she just admit it instead of coming to me? 
He wanted to believe she was telling the truth, yet the proof is right there on his computer. Like his predecessors, he needed to take on the responsibility of a leader and make sure that the conglomerate’s integrity remained intact. However, he also desired to shelter his darling from the world’s cruelty. Remove her from the department and secretly marry her so that they could be together at last. He is selfish, but he has the right to bask in his own happiness. Unlike some people.
Well, if he can’t outright get the truth from you…then he’ll just have to call in a favor from a certain someone in the underworld. The person in question could set up cameras in your bedroom by slipping in and out of your estate as a groundskeeper or pest control and no one would be the wiser. He could do it for a price and make sure that nothing could be traced back to him. The last thing Yeo Jung-Hwa wanted is to be arrested for illegally filming someone without their consent.
Not when this is an opportunity to sever ties with you completely, once and for all. 
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Two days later, he received an email and an attachment. When he clicked on it, four camera angles appeared on his desktop. All of them were in your room. But is this really your room? He expected it to be clean with sleek, wooden floors covered by monochrome carpeting and a walk-in closet filled to the brim with extravagant clothes, shoes, purses that she wouldn’t wear twice in her life. The uninspiring minimalist bougie interior design that is being coveted amongst the upper classes. Your taste was much more comforting. It appeared cozy, with soft lighting and warm blankets. 
Strings of fairy lights strung up across the ceiling.  A full bookshelf was near the bed. The floor was decorated with knitted ottomans and candles.  You lit them all back up as soon as you returned from the company, much later in the evening and when he was in his home office, cradling a cup of black coffee. 
You disappeared into the back for a moment, returning in a two-piece fleece loungewear with mushrooms and plants on them. Something he had expected to see Hyeung Mun-Hee dressed in, but not you. Were you trying to copy his lover’s tastes so he would pay attention to you? How shameless!
When he flipped the audio on the cameras, he expected to hear snide remarks about Hyeung Mun-Hee or see you talking to someone on the phone about sabotaging the new project coming up soon so that you would take all the credit. Instead, you were…shopping on a furniture site?
“I don’t need another bookcase, or it’ll look too cluttered. I can’t get any more potted plants either. I’ve already done enough renovations here to make it cozy and relaxing. What about…a salt thingy? What’s it called?” You typed a few words in the search engine, [Eye Color] irises brightening in realization. “Oh right, Himalayan salt lamp! That’s not a terrible price for this one! And yarn. I need more yarn to complete that gift for Caretaker Lee’s birthday. Speaking of which, I could work on that tonight. Give my eyes a break from staring at screens all damned day.” You scooted over to the edge of the bed, pulling one drawer outward. You then reached inside, removing knitting needles, yarn and dark red clumps of something. You put on headphones and began to knit.  
You, the proud and arrogant Park Seo-yun, was knitting. 
You didn’t move from that spot at all, completely focused on your project when a knock came from the bedroom door. A fleeting, fearful look appeared on your face before you frantically shoved all of your materials back in the drawer, sputtering to wait one moment that you weren’t decent before putting on a bored expression, scrolling through your phone and reclining back like a lazy cat. You told them to come in, and an elderly woman in an apron walked in with a wooden tray filled with assorted foodstuff, carefully setting it down on one of the ottomans. 
“Thank you for preparing my midnight snack, Caretaker Lee. I’m sorry it’s been such an inconvenience while I’m reviewing these documents for tomorrow.” You said with a smile. Caretaker Lee shook her head, walking over to your bed. You scooted over so she wouldn’t fall over the edge (presumably, because this entire situation is bizarre to Yeo Jung-Hwa), and she sat down. She smiled down at you, stroking the top of your head.
“This humble one is honored to serve the Park family, especially the hard-working young miss. It cannot be easy, with the current circumstances. Young miss…please forgive me for speaking outright…but are you certain about going through with this engagement? It seems that you have never spent any time with him outside of working at his conglomerate, and any time he has is spent with someone else.”
Yeo Jung-Hwa expected you to hit her, to punish Caretaker Lee for speaking out of turn and to mind her own business. Instead, you stared at her for a long moment, wide-eyed and mouth  slightly parted…before your lips curled into a melancholy smile, eyes softening. 
“I thank you for your concern, Caretaker Lee. But this is an engagement between my father and the conglomerate’s predecessor. It’s not something that can be broken off so easily with benefits for both parties.” You said. “This is the price to be part of the elite. To sacrifice your happiness for the sake of business.” You then leaned forward, pulling Caretaker Lee into a hug. “It’ll be okay, really. I’m Park Seo-yun. I can take care of myself. And you should be in bed. You’ve got a long drive to see your grandchildren tomorrow morning. Enjoy the weekend, and I’ll see you on Monday.” 
“But-”
“I’ll bring the tray down the kitchen when I’m finished.”
“Miss-”
“Nope.” 
You then shooed her out of the room, telling Caretaker Lee to send your mother a text as soon as she got to her destination. The old woman smiled sheepishly, wishing you good night and asked you to not stay up too late. Once she was out of the room and the door was closed, you walked back to the bed, shoulders sagging and suddenly looking incredibly tired before you fell face first onto the blankets, legs dangling from the edge. You remained like that for a moment, then picked yourself up and curled up your lower body, grabbing one of the blankets and putting it over your legs. You retrieved your hidden supplies, resuming your knitting, taking five minute breaks in between to eat from the tray. Three more hours passed until you decided to call it a night, blowing out the candles and switching the fairy lights to a lower setting before disappearing into the bathroom. You came back out, grabbed the tray, and vanished. 
This isn’t real. It can’t be real. You are a haughty, greedy woman who could care less about commoners, much less servants. You love shopping at boutiques and only want the best of the best in anything. Even in an arranged marriage. He could never be happy with someone like you. 
But is all of that true? A nasty little voice in the back of Yeo Jung-Hwa’s mind hissed. Those were rumors created by other women who weren’t pleased that they weren’t good enough to marry you. Park Seo-yun is a stranger to you. You never bothered to know nor care to. Why would you when you have someone you love, Hyeung Mun-Hee?
He didn’t need to, and the fact that he wanted to know the truth about you of all people terrified him. He’s not supposed to care, not to be curious or even concerned about your well-being.  This was a strategic engagement, not one born out of mutual affection. He has a role to play in this world after all. 
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Three weeks had passed since he had the cameras installed, and all Yeo Jung-Hwa had discovered or even learned is that you were a completely different person in your home than at the office. 
You work Monday through Fridays, always on time and never staying late unless it was necessary. You returned to your family estate late on Tuesday, Wednesday, and Thursdays because there was a spinning class at the company gym after your shift on those days. Friday evenings were spent in either your room, holed up and completely focused on knitting or doing something else that helped relax you. If you were staying up late, the servants would provide a midnight snack for you. The portions increased on the days you were at the gym, alluding that you possessed an enormous appetite due to a high metabolism instead of being a glutton as Hyeung Mun-Hee has told him time and time again.  You talked to yourself when you were alone, or at least your thoughts before making a decision on something. When he remotely hacked into your laptop to see if he could find any evidence of foul play there, he saw your browsing history contained only decoration aesthetics ideas, healthier snacks to eat at night, local beginner yoga instructors, and shopping at small businesses on Crafty plus one or two high-end boutiques for business casual outfits. Nothing incriminating on any level whatsoever. But he was not going to let you off of the hook that easily. 
At work he ignored you entirely, focusing his attention on Hyeung Mun-Hee and blocked your calls so that he didn’t have to talk to you outside of business hours. There was not a single text message or voicemail from you on his cellphone when he unblocked your number yesterday morning after coming into the office. Understandably frustrated and cranky from a lack of proper sleep, he decided to change the deadline for the quarterly income statements and the inspections of the company’s financial software, including reinforcing the firewalls and ensuring there was no fraudulent activity in the company’s transactions to Monday morning. 
With this amount of work, he was absolutely certain that it would be your slip-up. That you’d push your assigned tasks to Hyeung Mun-Hee so you could keep working on your knitting projects. Today is Saturday, and you left your house at seven o’clock to go to the office. You stayed awake until midnight typing away on your company laptop, looking over spreadsheets while talking to the head of IT on speaker, arranging a test run on the firewalls on Sunday evening. 
Instead of helping the team prepare for everything to be finished at the beginning of the week, Hyeung Mun-Hee was sitting across from him inside a coffee shop, beaming and utterly happy that they were finally out on a date after not being on one for so long, she was getting worried about him. Well…perhaps. Yeo Jung-Hwa glanced down at the shopping bags by their feet. They had gone to trendy high end streets and luxury department stores earlier this morning, with Hyeung Mun-Hee desiring…no, more like insisting that she had at least eight new work outfits so that she would represent his company properly as a team member of the Finance Department. 
If that’s true, then why are you here using my black card to shop instead of working at the office? He thought behind a smile as his supposed lover’s words went from one ear and out the other. If you were here with him, he’d probably have been more accepting of indulging in your vices and insisting on paying for everything instead of you, even when you were just as wealthy as he is. 
“I’m sure that you will find out why Park Seo-yun is acting so suspiciously!” Hyeung Mun-Hee said in a hushed voice. “I can’t believe you are even associated with such a vile person.She can’t get away with talking down to others like that! She may be rich, but she doesn’t know how to truly appreciate what she has right now!” She giggled. “It’s funny, isn’t it? She has everything, but she still clings to your engagement like a sad puppy! If she truly loves you, then she should have convinced her father to call everything off so that you can be happy. But the rich think differently I guess, right?” 
His smile tightened. “Perhaps.” He said, languidly sipping the java chip mocha frappuccino that she bought for him even though he preferred to have his coffee black with no sugar and he’s told her this little tidbit many times. “She is extravagant, but you also have luxurious taste, Hyeung Mun-Hee.” 
He watched her eyes widen in surprise and embarrassment, sputtering for a moment before she asked. “W-What are you saying, Yeo Jung-Hwa? You know me! If I had been given a choice to meet up, I would have chosen the downtown area so you could try the street vendors I’ve been talking about!”
And risk my health by getting food poison from reused cooking oil, poorly washed utensils, and ingesting noodles that are too greasy or salty? Absolutely not. He thought with slight irritation. 
“Maybe, but we both know that we must be discreet in our interactions, as I’ve told you before.That’s why I suggested we come here, but instead of sampling delicious foods at the restaurants I recommended, you wanted to come here instead after shopping.  If I remember correctly, your department is supposed to be presenting a big project on Monday. Why are you here, shopping to your hearts’ content instead of being at the office and helping out the team?”
“W-Why should I be there?” Hyeung Mun-Hee countered, bolting up from her seat as she stared at him in shock. “If I go there, Park Seo-yun will harass me! I can’t work in an environment like that! I did those seminars she  told me to do and passed the tests! Can’t I enjoy a day off?!” Fat tears began to build up behind her hazel eyes. “I’ve been working hard enough!”
But you are the one who is putting in the overtime needed to finish the job. You are leading the team to do what needs to be done. Hyeung Mun-Hee is just enjoying the perks of being by his side. Have you eaten lunch yet? Perhaps he can stop by somewhere that allows take-out and bring some to your office under the excuse that he needs to get some work done as well.  Dinner too, perhaps? 
“ARE YOU EVEN LISTENING TO ME, YEO JUNG-HWA?!”
He glared at her. “Sit down, Hyeung Mun-Hee.” He hissed, displeased that her shrill voice had attracted unwanted attention from customers who were either sitting at tables or waiting on orders to finish up at the pick-up area. “Finish your drink, and take a taxi back to the city, to your home.”
“It’s still early in the day, we haven’t been out in a while!”
“And I’m tired from the shopping. I don’t need to see what you bought because I already have seen them all at the shops.” He replied tersely. “I need to stop by the office and take care of a few things at the office before I need to go home.” 
Hyeung Mun-Hee’s face is a dark shade of purple. Consumed by anger, her mouth hung open, on the brink of another explosive tantrum, as the coffee shop door swung open, exposing its next patron. You.  
You stepped up to the pick-up area, looking at the various drinks with a pensive expression before waving down a barista. “Excuse me.” You said. “I’m here to pick up a mobile order for several drinks under Park. When will they be ready? I need to hurry back to the office with caffeine for my employees or things are going to get ugly.” The  handbag hung from your wrist as you fished out your phone, presumably showing the online order to the young man. He looked at you before smiling at you. 
“We’ll have it done in just a moment, ma’am.”
Is it wrong for Yeo Jung-Hwa to desire the bright smile you gave to that insignificant commoner when you did not know he was here with Hyeung Mun-Hee?
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Congratulations, Congratulations, Congratulations! 
Important things must be said three times.
The viewership score for Episode 52 has arrived!
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littlexdeaths · 3 days
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bye bye bye - e.m.
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y2k eddie munson x girly reader
opposites attract masterlist
warnings: gareth is a dickhead, hope y’all like some cheesy fluff, eddie is a complete dork but we love him for it.
a/n: this is a repost of my first y2k eddie fic, with some much needed edits and additions. i will be working on editing and posting the rest of this series soon. i hope you enjoy 💕
word count: 1.5k
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Today really hadn’t gone how you’d planned.
You had been hanging out with Eddie and his band mates, something you’d done quite often. Only this time you made the mistake of wearing your *NSYNC tour shirt.
It wasn’t a secret that you and Eddie had polar opposite tastes, it was apparent by just looking at you. You were all pink, bubblegum and boy bands. And your boyfriend was a leather clad, heavy metal enthusiast.
Despite these differences, you fit so well together.
And as they say— opposites attract.
But one of his friends was always more standoffish towards you because of it. While you were always nice to Gareth, he seemed annoyed anytime Eddie brought you around. But today that annoyance had seemingly reached its peak.
And all over a stupid t-shirt.
Eddie had gone to get you both a drink, leaving you in the living room with the three other males. They were discussing the newest Linkin Park album. Which oddly enough, was a band you actually enjoyed outside your normal realm of music.
You perked up at the mention of the album, as it had been the only thing Eddie had been playing since it was released. Feeling eager to see what they also thought of it.
“Oh come on man, you can't say Meteora is better than Hybrid Theory,” Jeff scoffs, shaking his head in response to Gareth’s admission as Eddie leaves the room.
The male rolls his eyes before tossing a piece of popcorn at Jeff’s head, “See that’s where you’re wrong dude, have you tried listening to the albums back to back?”
You take this as an opportunity to add in your two cents, trying to include yourself in the conversation despite your nerves.
“Well, personally I think both albums are great in their own—”
You are interrupted with a loud snort as Gareth rudely cuts you off, glancing down at your shirt before meeting your eyes.
“Why would we care about your opinion of it? All you listen to is boy band trash pop,” he sneers, rolling his eyes as he turns back to his friends.
It felt like someone had punched you in the gut, any other words became lodged in your throat. Jeff and Grant throw apologetic glances your way, but continue on with the conversation as if nothing had happened.
Eddie returns shortly after, completely oblivious to what had just transpired. He plops down next to you on the sofa and passes you a can of coke. Due to your solemn appearance, he knew something was wrong. He just didn’t know what.
A frown tugs at the corner of his mouth as he wraps an arm around your waist, tucking you into his side.
“Hey, you okay?” He asks softly, replying with a shrug of your shoulders.
You let your eyes fall to the open can of soda clutched in your fist. You didn’t want to talk about it, especially not in front of them. The last thing you wanted was to cause a scene, or to give Gareth the satisfaction of seeing you cry.
So you sat quietly through the next half hour, letting Eddie enjoy the time with his friends.
But he couldn’t seem to let it go, far too focused on what had caused this sudden shift in your mood. So he ended the hangout early, claiming to be too tired from work. But all of you knew the real reason, guilt filled your chest as he walked you out to his van.
They must think you’re a buzzkill too.
The questions started the moment the door shut behind him, badgering you the entire way back to your house. You easily dodged his line of questioning, claiming to be tired. But Eddie wasn’t having any of that, he could see right through you. He always could.
“Baby, come on. Talk to me please,” he pleaded as he followed you up the stairs to your bedroom.
You continued to ignore him as you sat on the bed with a sigh. You felt embarrassed, knowing such a silly comment shouldn’t bother you as much as it did. All you wanted was for his friends to like you, but it was made abundantly clear that they didn’t.
All because you favored pop music? It all felt so trivial, like they weren’t even willing to give you a real chance. It hurt your feelings more than you cared to admit.
But Eddie being the sweet, doting boyfriend that he was— wasn’t giving up that easily.
“Just tell me what happened, sweetheart.” He says, kneeling in front of you, palms resting on either side of your thighs.
“It’s stupid,” you mutter, avoiding his curious gaze.
“Nothing that upset you this much is stupid,” he counters as you let out a groan, dramatically falling back onto the mattress and covering your face.
You hear his exasperated sigh, feeling the weight of his chest against yours as he leans over you. Eddie carefully removes your hands from your face, looking down at you expectantly.
“Your friends don’t like me,” you utter softly.
He frowns, confusion settling on his features.
“Why do you say that?”
You sigh, rolling your eyes which causes his frown to deepen.
“Well, just look at me…” you trail off, gesturing to yourself. “And look at you.”
It’s his turn to sigh now, taking your hands as he guides you back into a sitting position. Eddie cups your cheeks in between his palms, leaning forward to press a kiss to your forehead.
“I know what you’re insinuating, but I promise that’s the furthest thing from the truth.” He reassures you, his dark eyes utterly sincere.
And as much as you want to believe him, there’s still a small part of you that wonders if maybe they are right. Maybe you’re too different. He must be able to read the apprehension lingering on your features, as one of determination crosses over his.
“I don’t know what they said to make you think that,” he pauses to press a kiss to the tip of your nose. “But I won’t hesitate to kick some ass, sweetheart.”
Despite the teasing lithe in his voice you know he’s serious, quickly shaking your head. The last thing you’d want is to cause more beef with his friends.
“It’s fine, Eds, I’m just too sensitive.” You give him a quick peck on the lips, “Let’s just drop it, yeah?”
You pull away to scoot further up the mattress, patting the spot beside you. But he shakes his head, remaining on the floor for a moment. His eyes dart contemplatively around the room, stopping on the shelf that held your extension CD collection.
A Cheshire-like grin tugs at his lips as he moves towards it, balancing on the balls of his feet. Your brows knit together in confusion as his ringed fingers graze over the plastic spines, stopping once he finds what he was looking for. Eddie pops the disc out of its case and into the clunky boombox before pressing play.
The beginning chords of Bye Bye Bye fill the once quiet space of your bedroom. Your boyfriend quickly jumps to his feet, spinning around to face you. He plants his feet on the carpet, head falling forward as his hands raise up in a marionette style.
Your eyes widen in realization as you crawl back towards the edge of your bed, suddenly intrigued. Eddie shoots a wink your way once he meets your gaze, beginning to sing along. His voice stood out amongst the others, the raspy quality brought a new edge to the track.
But he didn’t stop there.
You watched in amazement as he nailed all the choreography from the music video. You had no idea when he found the time to study all the moves. Between classes, work, hellfire and band practice he barely had time to think.
But knowing he took the time to do this, specifically for you— made your stomach flutter.
You can’t stop the smile from lighting up your features, giggling as your boyfriend continues to serenade you.
“I don’t want to be your fool, in this game for two…”
Eddie drops to his knees at your feet again, coaxing you onto the floor with him. He presses feather light kisses all over your face, the sensation causes you to giggle more. As hurt as you had been, the male always knew how to make you forget your problems.
At least for a little while.
“That’s my girl,” he mumbled, grinning down at you.
He’s a little out of breath from his impromptu dance routine, bangs lightly sticking to his forehead.
“You’re an absolute dork, Ed,” you giggle, ruffling his curls in a playful manner.
But the way he’s looking at you has your heart racing. His head dips, capturing your lips in a gentle kiss as the song comes to an end.
“Now, admit it,” he chuckles against your mouth, nudging his nose with yours. “I’m a much better dancer than that Dustin Timberlake.”
You laugh loudly, fondly shaking your head at him.
“It’s Justin, baby…”
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The Bolter (part five)
Steve Rogers x f!reader / (Bucky Barnes x f!reader)
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synopsis : Steve carries out his decision to return to Peggy, aiming to live out the rest of his days with her. But this means he's leaving everything behind - he's leaving you. Did he make the right choice? Will there be anything left with you to come back to?
in this chapter : In present day, the reader and Bucky get closer - will one of them finally slip up? We also see what happened in 2018, during the battle in Wakanda.
themes/warnings : pining, unrequited love, Bucky dealing with ptsd, brief mention of violence, language
word count : <2k
masterlist ▪︎ previous chapter
📝 a little bit of an explanation on the timeline : 2016 - Civil War ▪︎ 2017 - post Civil War / Steve and reader on the run ▪︎ early 2018 - Infinity War ▪︎ 2018 to 2023 - the lost years / post-snap ▪︎ late 2023 - Endgame / Steve's departure ▪︎ 2024 - present day / Falcon and the Winter Soldier period ▪︎ 1950s - where Steve went back
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2024, seven months after Steve's departure
You win. Again.
By now, you're convinced Bucky is actually letting you win in Battleship. Each guess he made had been wrong, so it must be deliberate.
"James Buchanan Barnes," you sigh.
His lips form a sly smirk. He isn't even trying to deny it.
You reach across and lightly shove his non-vibranium arm. "It's no fun if there's no challenge."
He shrugs, "Maybe I like the way you react when you win. You get so... expressive." Another smirk. Damn him.
What could possibly be so amusing about the way you practically screeched and stuck your tongue at him the first time you won?
"Yeah, but you let me win four times in a row."
"Deal with it, doll."
"You suck."
He grimaces, "Suck?"
Right. You keep forgetting he is an very old, very ancient centenarian.
"It's an expression."
Something flashes across his face, and you can't really make out what it is. "Do you suck, too?"
"What?" you exclaim. "I just said it's an expression. It means you're annoying."
He holds your gaze for a moment, before laughing, eyes visibly crinkling at the corners. "I'm messing with you, doll. I know what that means. I'm old, not unaware."
Damn him again.
And damn the way the rare instances of his laughter is slowly growing to be a thing you yearn for. Bucky has a playful side, you've come to realize. You get this feeling of lightness, because you're proud of him. The more it comes out, the more it shows how much he has healed.
You blink at him, shaking your head, before bursting into laughter yourself.
Damn it all to hell.
It takes a beat for you to collect yourselves.
Then for a second, it's there. That fleeting shift in his expression. A pinch in his eyebrows giving way to a look of shame. Just for a moment, his mind drifts back to the long list of names in his notebook. To Yori's son. To the crimson in his ledger.
You notice, and you don't hesitate in taking his hand, squeezing gently. "Hey," you say, catching his attention. "I'm glad we get to do this."
I'm glad I have you.
Glancing down at your hand wrapped around his, he smiles, slowly, like a sun rising and casting its glow over the horizon.
"Let's play one more time," Bucky says as he begins rearranging the pieces on his side.
You were about to protest, but then he adds, "I won't let you win, I swear."
Fifteen minutes later, you do indeed win again. He laughs at the incredulous expression that must be plastered on your face.
You take it. Because maybe you did win, fair and square.
Or maybe because his laughter feels like winning.
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The days have blurred into weeks and into months.
It feels like time is passing quickly, every second feels less and less like the lash of a whip, reminding Bucky of past pains. Of loss. Of all his sins.
Life almost feels normal. The kind of normal he is afforded in his life, at least.
Sessions with his court-mandated therapist. You. Dinners with Yori, desperately unable to tell him the truth. You. Sleepless nights, glimpses of his darkness haunting him. You. Sleepless nights, tempting images of you.
Behind all the laughter and the times you would spend playing Battleship on the floor of his barely furnished apartment, Bucky gets a sense of something gnawing at him. Something not unfamiliar, but unwelcome all the while.
It's fear. He has something to lose, once more. A friend or a kindred spirit. Whatever else you will find in each other. It's there and it's real, and it makes him feel like Bucky again.
He doesn't want to lose it, whatever it is. He's already lost Steve.
He's not going to lose you too.
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early 2018, Infinity War
After you and Steve left the cabin, it's like the universe was sent a go-ahead signal of some sort.
The world slowly descended into chaos, and the Avengers were needed back into the fold.
Your group had to rush to Scotland to rescue Wanda and Vision. Then it was back to the Avengers compound.
"You think all is forgiven?" Senator Ross asked, the threat evident in his tone. "You think you can just walk back in here like nothing happened? Romanoff has been leading my team on some wild goose chase - "
Natasha merely scoffs, unamused.
" - and Huntress has been actively aiding and abetting her fellow fugitives around the globe."
You were about to say something snarky, but Steve had already taken a step forward, partially shielding you from Ross' view.
"We're not looking for forgiveness, and we're way past asking permission," Steve declared.
In that time, life became drastically different from your days in Alaska. You barely had a moment of repose, worried about the fate of the world.
But you found comfort in the blonde super soldier who was constantly hovering over you. His eyes would meet yours before a decision would be made. His hand sometimes pressed at the small of your back as you walked beside him. Time and again, you found him watching you, a silent question in his eyes. You'd nod back, I'm okay.
You didn't notice, but in one of those moments, Wanda had witnessed the exchange.
And she felt it. That something. Much like what she has with Vision.
But it just wasn't the right time.
It is a bit hard to face the truth that you might be in love when the whole world is burning.
"I guess this is our normal, after all," you wistfully remarked to him one evening, after everyone else had left. The plans were laid. You all were to go to Wakanda the next day.
Steve felt a sense of bitterness arising from him upon hearing your words. It really isn't fair. He has always done everything right, but he's losing count of how many joys he's had to sacrifice.
He lost everyone once. His mom, his sister, Bucky, his fellow soldiers, Dr. Erskine, Peggy. He'd buried himself in ice, only to wake up again in a world that wasn't his anymore.
What else does he have to lose, who else, before he is finally allowed to be happy?
His smile was pained when he replied, "I think I figured out the kind of normal I want."
Despite your exhaustion, you smiled back and curiously asked, "Oh yeah?"
Steve hopelessly tried to commit you to memory. The lilt in your voice, the shape of your lips. That undying spark in your eyes, which remained even when everything was cast in gloom.
Just in case he would wake up one day and find his whole world taken from him once more.
"Yeah," he finally said.
The world is ablaze, but he's grown used to it. He knew he would lay his life down on the line again if that means it would be saved.
But everything be damned, he allowed himself one selfish thought when he confessed, "We never should have left that cabin."
I'm in love with you, were the words caught in his throat. His heart screamed it, yearning to be heard.
And you did.
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It was a cruel twist of fate. But Thanos deemed it destiny.
Was it always meant to happen? Were they always meant to lose?
Steve didn't know how long he stayed on the ground next to the pile of ashes that used to be his best friend.
Bucky was gone.
Steve barely heard the screams. Anguished voices calling out the names of their friends, still searching.
All that would have been unbearable. The sounds of distress enough to drive one mad. But Steve heard nothing. He had nothing.
It's not fair. Inside, he felt like that sickly kid who was always dealt the worst hand. It does feel like he's a kid again, petulant and angry. It's not fair, he thought over and over, I don't deserve this.
Bring Bucky back to me.
Maybe it was all his fault. Maybe if he never took that damned serum... maybe... maybe...
"Cap," he heard someone break him out of his haze. Rhodey stood to the side. "Steve," he repeated, pleading, but Steve still could not find the strength to get up.
Then from the distance, he heard Natasha calling out for you. He stumbled to his feet, his head spinning. Casting one last glance at the spot where Bucky vanished, he turned and started running.
He found Natasha immediately, but not you.
"Where is she?" Steve growled, and his voice sounded rougher than he's ever heard before. Natasha would have recoiled in surprise, if she didn't possess nerves of steel.
"I'm looking," Natasha snapped impatiently. You would have been her loss too.
Steve felt as if he had already scoured through the whole field twice, his body threatening to just give in and crumble to the ground once more, as the hope of finding you dimmed.
Then he heard your faint voice, weak and weary, standing out among all the others.
"Steve?" There you stood, your face half-covered in dried blood and soot. "Did we lose?"
He swiveled around and took you in, a deep breath of helpless relief exiting his lungs. He was angry and defeated.
He wanted to throw Captain America to the wind, and surrender everything.
He wanted to hear his mother's voice singing to him again. This world is cruel, and he wanted to go back home.
But there you were.
There you were, and Steve knew he had not lost everything.
"How did it happen?" you asked as he approached. "Steve, what do we do? There must be something - "
His mouth crashes into yours with such bruising intensity that it makes you stumble backward, but his arms were quick to catch you.
He was right.
You never should have left that cabin.
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2024, seven months after Steve's departure
The nightmare is different.
It's worse. Much worse.
Bucky bolts upright on the floor of his living room, having chosen to bypass the comfort of his bedroom. He thinks this is because he needs to keep his TV on in the background, something to muffle the noise in his mind late at night.
Another reason, one he hasn't confronted yet, is how comfort feels so foreign. It feels wrong, like he doesn't deserve it.
Perhaps that is why he can't find comfort even in his dreams.
It flashes before his eyes, like a broken montage.
It's almost the same every time. He's the Winter Soldier. He's on a mission. There are faces swarming around him, bodies either racing to attack or running away. But he doesn't see any of them. He doesn't feel anything as he makes every single one of them crumble.
But it's different this time. The Winter Soldier does not so much as falter or show any hesitation as he wraps his metal fingers around your windpipe.
The Winter Soldier coldly watches as you expire. Bucky helplessly watches, unable to stop as he loses everything.
Thankfully awake, in this world where he still has you, Bucky's chest feels like it's about to implode.
So much for being a superabled freak.
The clock reads 3:13. It's late, but he needs some air.
He walks for 10 minutes, aimlessly. Then for 20 more, his mind having made a decision on its own. He soon finds himself standing in front of a familiar brownstone building, where your apartment is situated on the top floor.
You don't seem confused when you answer the buzzer. It wouldn't be the first time he has shown up unannounced.
"Can't sleep either?" You're a welcome vision when you greet him at the door, cheeks flushed by the white wine you usually drink at these hours.
She's still here, Bucky reminds himself. The only comfort that he won't deny.
Instead of walking past you, straight into your apartment like he always does, he takes one step closer.
And then another.
He shuts the door behind him.
You watch him carefully, scanning his every movement. There's something here, something different. He takes another step and he has you pressed against the wall.
His eyes betray the storm of emotion brewing inside. He has to remind himself that you're here, and he has you.
"Bucky," you whisper, and it's all he needs.
He leans in and finally touches his lips to yours.
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My emotions!!!!!! Hahahaha this chapter is a whole mess and so are our protagonists 🔪🫀
yes yes, expect that the next one is 18+ --- but I still won't say exactly with who --- maybe it's a trick? Maybe it's neither of them? Oh well, honestly some of you have got it bang on already 🤷🏻‍♀️
As always, I am keen to hear what you guys think!!
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kneelingshadowsalome · 15 hours
Note
I know the König x secret admirer reader is not gonna be officially continued but I was wondering if you could maybe explore part of it😭 there’s a part that mentioned that König gets laid in the military and I was wondering how angsty it would be if reader found out?🤭
Yes of course! ^^ It would be angsty... and fluffy! These two are the silliest people who ever lived tbh 🩷🐥
König is young in this AU (around his early 20s) and wildly inexperienced compared to some of the other recruits his age.
His first time was with a girl who joined the army when König had been there for about 1.5 years already. Desperate as he was with hiding the fact that he’s still a virgin, he tumbled into bed with this lady after a night out at the bar. She thoroughly seduced him, and König’s instincts told him she was only looking for fun, but he went with her anyway because, well. Loneliness can kill you, you know?!
He tried to woo her a bit after that until it became quite clear that this woman was not planning to settle down anytime soon. If anything, she was looking for a new conquest – and it’s fine, totally fine, except that König had surrendered a tiny piece of his heart to her along with his dick... That’s just how he is, and it took him more than a few months to get over the fact that it was “just a shag” and he “shouldn’t take things so seriously”.
That’s also why he closed off from people again, decided to concentrate on work and training and gym – until our cute little angel stumbled into his life like the prettiest saving grace! König was a goner from the start because this girl's approach was very different, so gentle and sweet compared to grimy shot glasses and smudgy lipstick and raunchy jokes. It’s a given that he was a little shocked when she sent her that pic 🙄 reminding him of promiscuous women who are not looking for a soul but a body, but because he is what he is the first thing he did was crank things up a notch and send her a dick pic back…
Yes, he’s desperate, but he’s also an go hard or go home man and this time, König is relatively sure he’s dealing with a lovely, delicate soul. Someone who wouldn’t just leave him out in the cold after getting what she wants.
And everything is like a fairytale between these two until she finds out he’s not a virgin despite he seemed a bit… like one… (in this scenario I think reader is a virgin and she thought König was one too because of obvious reasons? lol) And it’s fine, totally fine for her as well, except that the image of König having the night of his life with some military babe is haunting her from dusk till dawn.
There’s bound to be some drama when she starts asking timidly whether she’s still there… Whether they see each other every day. If they talk to each other, if he trains with her, etc. What if they test rifles together, or go out again with the sniper crew and get drunk and König feels… a little lonely?
She knows he would never cheat on her, not in a million years, but knowing how much of a wet dog he is she can’t promise that she’ll be all calm and relaxed during weekends, knowing her boyfriend is out there, full of testosterone and heart, his heart somewhat susceptible to female influence… Maybe even good old seduction…
And what’s even worse is the jealousy, the envy.
What if she’s more badass than her? That doesn't take much... She must be fierce if she’s in the military, something completely different, a forbidden apple König might want to taste again. It’s maddening, and when she finally opens up about it to him, spitting it out one night when he asks what’s bugging his sweet angel, there’s a big fat silence that follows.
König can't even believe she has torn her heart to pieces over something like this, alone and upset and ashamed when she's a literal angel. He sits her nice and pretty in his lap and talks her ear off about how he has nothing against this woman, truly, but that she is nothing compared to his first (and hopefully last!) girlfriend. Their love could never be compared to what happened between him and that girl, these things can’t even be spoken together in the same sentence. If he’s completely honest, his first time was... disappointing. Awkward, humbling, a total drunken mess of which he remembers nothing except that the woman wasn’t completely present either and that he was ashamed that his first time had to be like this.
Honestly, he felt like he lost his virginity on the night when he came to see her. She’s everything he’s ever dreamed of, all he thinks about these days... It’s quite annoying, actually, because he’s supposed to concentrate on how the wind blows and that the ammo doesn’t get wet and that he’s properly concealed.
He could be lying in a ditch with dummy rounds whirling past him and all he could think about are her eyes and lips and giggling and tits and, and… that. How warm it is, how nice it is, how he would just want to curl himself next to her when he hops back to his bunk in the evening. Her smile is the last thing he sees before he dreams, her voice is what he hears. All the things she said, all those sweet, silly little things, chime in his ear before he sleeps.
And all the precious moments they’ve already spent together, the times he made love to her under the trees... There’s nothing like that in the whole world and if she thinks something else can top that she's even sillier than he thought. He could comb through all the continents and he would never find a girl like her.
So tell him again... Why would he go to a shot glass of saltwater when he has a jar of wild honey right here at home?
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absolutebl · 2 days
Text
GMMTV'S BL Line Up - Part 2
Presented in order of trailers I find most appealing:
youtube
The Heart Killers
FirstKhao & JoongDunk
Jojo directing an action romcom about assassin brothers (Khao & Joong) meet a tattoo artist ex-booster (First) and a mechanic (Dunk). I'm highly amused that Joong plays the older brother to Khao, and that we have a at take on Taming of the Shrew for that pair. I like that everyone is morally gray. This has all GMMTV's best chemistry in one BL and some fresh concepts that I've only really seen tackled in m/m romance (check out Amy Lane's Racing for the Sun, thank me later). I'm excited my only quibble is Jojo, I like his style but his characters can get unreliably messy so...
I genuinely dithered over whether this one should be first. Still it was the only trailer I grinned the whole way through, and had to watch 2x, so it takes top spot for me, but closely followed by a surprise silver medal...
youtube
Thame-Po (Heart that Skips a Beat)
EstWilliam
A boy band member and his documentarian start a forbidden relationship. I LOVE Est and am delighted to see him at GMMTV but I've been getting a fatigued by celebrity BL of late. However, after watching the trailer I'm 100% in on this show. I've been waiting for a Blinding Lights style idol romance and this looks like it might be it (Korea, Japan, and Thailand have systemically disappointed me over the past 2 years). Bring it, boys.
youtube
Revamp the Undead Story
BounPrem
GMMTV have taken on this IP about a vampire prince and the human who awakens him that was with WabiSabi. Interesting that GMMTV are bring out two vampire BLs as a result. This one involves a coven (hello, who called it way back in 2019? Me. I DID.) Anygay, coven includes Santa (no lies spotter with that one).
(Previously: Vampire Project from Wabi Sabi - trailer now removed, also previously My Broccoli)
Wonder if they will tank that JossGawin one? There'd likely be rioting in the streets if they did. But they might just let it fade away.
youtube
Sweet Tooth Good Dentist
MarkOhm
Finally Mark is leading out a BL! This one based on a Jittirain novel about a weird sunshine student dentist and his sugar-addicted patient, described as a romcom meets romantic therapy. Also, Jimmy is there, primarily to give me second lead syndrome. It looks silly but kinda earnest, I'm intrigued.
youtube
Perfect 10 Liners
ForceBook, PerthChimon, JuniorMark
New directing yet another university BL with engineers + their mentees. Based on a Jittirain novel. Massive cast. ForceBook playing the same old characters. Enemies to lovers tsunder/sunshine jock/nerd thing. PerthChimon are doing the cohabitation cool guy/dork trope. JuniorMark are doing popular sunshine meets lonely sad boy (the only interesting pair IMHO).
Not sure if these will be interwoven (My Engineer style) or shorter stand alones (Y-Destiny style).
youtube
The Ex-Morning
SingtoKrist
This is an original script written just for the OG, direct by Lit (SOTUS) about a news reporter plagued by scandal must work with his ex-boyfriend to rebuild his reputation. A reunion romance that's hitting pretty close to the IRL pair branded mark.
I've never claimed these two had any kind of chemistry and that would appear to still be the case. I think this one will bore me silly. I'm contemplating a trash watch but feel that's best reserved for...
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Ossan‘s Love Thailand
EarthMix
WHY MUST THIS BE?!! I really don't like this IP but I still HAVE OPINIONS (of course I do) Look, I doubt even legendary EarthMix can save Ossan for me.
Shall I explain? Too much, let me sum up:
It's a terrible script based entirely on an unsympathetic love triangle, the viability of the whole show actually hinges on the boss character so he MUST be likable, because the lead is an unsympathetic looser (and user of people), and the roommate/love interest has no personality. Looks like this version is doing the same. ALSO Earth is grossly miss-cast. (On the other hand, maybe I'll like it more because of that, I would rather my H were toned down a bit.) Finally... where tf are my ladies? The female characters were the best thing about the original.
Of course I'll still watch it. I'm trash.
My order based on descriptions (and biases) before watching trailers was:
The Heart Killers
Revamp
Sweet Tooth
Perfect 10 Liners
ThamePo
The Ex-Morning
Ossan’s Love Thailand
Now that we have finally gotten part 2 I have only one burning question left for GMMTV.
Why didn't my man Thor get to lead something, damn it?
I will also take this as an opertunity to remind you all that my predictions about my own taste are notorious terrible.
(source)
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cosmicghoul99 · 3 days
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An interesting Hannibal theory I think you should know about
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I'm not sure how many people know this, but if you're unaware, some really interesting things relate to the show and Hannibal's character specifically. (Wanna add that I am not religious, so apologies if I get something wrong. I mean no offense to anyone, this is just a little analysis on my part)
There are a lot of biblical references in the show. It makes sense; religion has always been a deep, moral, and philosophical concept, and Hannibal loves to incorporate the ideas of religion and God into his actions and that of those around him. One of these references is a recurring one. Hannibal is often referred to as the devil. Like this quote from Gideon:
"You really are the devil," Abel Gideon - Antipasto
Or this one from Bedelia:
"Who holds the Devil, let him hold him well. He will hardly be caught a second time." Bedelia Du Maurier - The Wrath of the Lamb
Add this to all the religious imagery, the references to stags and the wendigo, plus the season three discussions about Dante. Bedelia says that she was "swallowed whole" by the beast at the mouth of Hell. You get the picture. There is a lot of talk and allusions to Hannibal being "the Devil."
Obviously, this is a metaphor first and largely used because he is the main "evil" or antagonistic character, but there's actually some truth to this.
Both Bryan Fuller, the creator, and Mads Mikkelsen, the actor of Hannibal, have stated that Hannibal is meant to be the literal devil. He is meant to be both a personification of the devil and the literal devil.
According to Bryan Fuller, Mads Mikkelsen plays Hannibal like he is Lucifer. In an interview, he stated that "he is as close as you can come to the Devil, in the sense that the Devil has no reasons," following it up by saying that Hannibal's reactions aren’t something of a person, but of the Devil. He intentionally plays the character through the lens of the fallen angel, Lucifer. Hannibal is meant to, in the eyes of the actor, be a manifestation of the Devil
Bryan Fuller has also said in interviews and online that he believes Hannibal is the devil. Of course, he states that this is his opinion and that others are up to their own interpretation, but the show's main creator and writer believes this also means that we can reasonably see this in the show.
Throughout the show, Hannibal is simply on another level. Many times, he does not seem human but rather otherworldly. I think that is where Mad's acting presents itself, alongside whenever Hannibal is talking about humanity and God.
Hannibal loves to play at being God and also criticizes God as well. I believe it is in episode three after Will kills Hobbs, that they discuss how Will killing Hobbs felt good. Hannibal responds with this.
"Killing must feel good to God, too... He does it all the time, and are we not created in His image?" Hannibal Lecter - Amuse-Bouche 
Oh boy. This is such an interesting line. He talks about being created in His image. Let's be honest; he speaks as if he were God or knows God at least. His comment actually makes more sense if you view this as him being the Devil. Lucifer, the fallen angel, was cast from Heaven for rebelling against God. He feels that it was unjust. Most people talking about God and His actions view him with benevolence. Hannibal does not. In the bible, Lucifer had a problem with humans. And humans are, of course, said to be created in God's image. You could also argue that angels, especially Lucifer, were created in that same image, too. Hannibal has an issue with the rude. Why the rude particular? It is because those who are rude often showcase the worst of humanity's attributes and free will. Hannibal despises the rude because I believe that it, in some ways, represents the hatred that the Devil, or Lucifer, holds for humanity. The Devil had an issue with humans gaining free will and felt they did not deserve life via God's hands. This is similar to how Hannibal feels that those who are rude do not deserve to live. Hannibal, then, of course, being Satan himself, would be resentful of God for casting him from Heaven. Again, Hannibal often discusses God's motives, or what God feels doing certain things. Literally, a few seconds later in that episode, he says this:
"Hannibal: God's terrific. He dropped a church roof on thirty-four of his worshippers last Wednesday night in Texas while they sang a hymn.
Will: Did God feel good about that?
Hannibal: He felt powerful." Will Graham and Hannibal Lecter - Amuse-Bouche 
That last line about him feeling powerful gets me thinking. Hannibal is speaking not just about this but also about his own fall. But more importantly, he's also showing us what he thinks of himself. Killing makes God feel powerful. That means that killing makes Hannibal feel powerful as well. He is both giving motives and somewhat criticizing God at the same time. Hannibal seems to find the situation amusing. I think he believes it quite funny that humans were killed while worshipping God. He might even see a comparison between what happened to him and what happened here. He is simultaneously praising God and calling Him a hypocrite.
Hannibal's motives for killing are also interesting, and I said earlier that I think the reason why he kills is because he believes that rude and ill-tempered people are the problem with humanity. And he wants to get rid of them.
Now, let's explore how this connects with other metaphors, his decisions in canon, and his relationship with Will.
Let's talk about the stag. I did some research, and in many religions, including Christianity, stags represent God and his might, at least from what I could find. I find this interesting because stags are also meant to represent opposition to the snake, another symbol of the Devil. Why is the representation of Hannibal, at least in Will's mind, a stag? I think it actually represents the darkening of Will. If stags are meant to represent good, then that means that Will starts off that way and then slowly follows the stag and is affected by it, which, to me, means that Will is slowly being corrupted. Just like the stag was corrupted due to Hannibal's influence, Will is starting to change and fall deeper and deeper into darkness. It's also interesting that the dynamic between Hannibal and Will is clearly that of one between the Devil and the person they are trying to tempt. Hannibal is trying to tempt Will into changing himself and embracing the darkness inside of him.
Will is Hannibal's realization that humans are actually not that bad. They are complex, and their free will actually makes them relate to him more than he thinks. Will is his weakness, and Hannibal is intrigued by him. If the Devil, which is Hannibal, is the snake, then, in Hannibal's own words, Will is the mongoose that preys on the snake. Hannibal originally fell because of humans, and at the end of the series, he falls because of humanity again. He fell for Will. Will is meant to represent the lamb of God. The symbolism is that Hannibal fell for Will, who sacrificed himself to keep the Devil away, getting corrupted in the process.
Dolarhyde is also a factor. The original painting, "The Great Red Dragon," represents Satan. How does that tie into this idea? I think it's not Dolarhyde who is meant to be Satan; rather, it is Hannibal. We know that Dolyrhde idolizes Hannibal in a sense. Like Will and many of his other patients, which I'll get into later, Francis is influenced by what Hannibal says. Yet another temptation by the Devil. This is also connected to Will coming into his own life because Francis is also manipulated by Will. There is a connection between Hannibal and Will, which is shared via the tempting and manipulation of Francis.
I mean, we have this statement by Jack talking about The dragon, the lamb, etc. Jack says that,
"He's not the Dragon, you are. The Devil himself bound in the pit." Jack Crawford
Hannibal compares Jack to God. But I think they both are, in some way.
Many of Hannibal's patients and the people in his life, in general, are manipulated by him. I mean, some of his patients are tempted and influenced by him to do bad things commit crimes, and murder people. That's very indicative of the Devil's work, in my opinion. Even Jack and Alana end up being manipulated and deceived by him.
There is a lot of other religious imagery and symbolism, so I'll only discuss some of it. To start with, the reference to Bedelia's presentation and Hannibal's name in Italy and what they could represent. I mentioned earlier that in season 3, Bedelia talks about her time in Florence with Hannibal. She talks about how Dante gave a physical space to Hell, a solid concept, but before that, people would say, the "mouth of Hell." Then she says that she was "swallowed by the beast." This refers to Hannibal, but here's the interesting thing. In the Bible, the Devil is also referred to as the Beast. Bedelia is yet again referring to herself being used and brought into the mouth of Hell by the Beast, Hannibal. The name that Hannibal was monikered by in Italy is also the same. "Il Mostro" translates to the monster, which can be interpreted as yet another way to refer to the devil. Then, there is the obvious references to lambs in the show, with it being a sacrificial symbol. I'm sure that's been talked about a lot, and I mentioned it earlier.
There are many mentions of justice, redemption, retribution, and more in the show. This connects with the religious themes, of course, but it also plays into Hannibal's view of himself as a God, as well as how the show depicts him as the Devil. He is the one who casts judgment onto people, like his patients, and onto the rude, like a God. He is the one who issues punishment for sins and misdeeds, like the Devil. I think it's so interesting to see them both working in tandem.
I once saw a post saying that Hannibal acts like he's lived the same life a hundred or so times. And I agree. He does. He acts like he has been around for a time so long that many have forgotten it. It makes sense why he's so confident, and nothing seems to phase him. Nothing that happens has any consequence for him. The only thing, really, that he cares about is Will. That's why he tries to get Will to have his Becoming and Fall with him. He wants Will to be there with him. Which is sweet, I think :) And not to bring up related trauma for anyone that has ever been a fan of Devilman or Devilman Crybaby, but IMO, it really really reminds me of Akira and Ryo and how Ryo is stuck in the same cycle over and over again as a lesson. Idk, my opinion. Let me know what you think.
I also wanted to touch on some other interpretations of the raven stag shown alongside the wendigo and how other religions and beliefs might relate to this.
The Wendigo is a demonic entity or evil spirit from the Algonquian people of Canada. It is a winter spirit that is meant to represent greed and gluttony. When humans succumb to greed, like being greedy for money, being cruel to people, or generally evil things, the Wendigo spirit can possess you. During harsh winters, when food is scarce, people commit taboo acts and consume another human, participating in cannibalism. This also causes a possession and turns this person into a wendigo, never to be satisfied and constantly craving forever. I am not Algonquian, or even Indigenous/Native American, so I can't speak too much on this, and I don't know too much, but I hope I explained it well enough. I apologize if I did not. The show has its own visualization of this, and Wendigos traditionally doesn't look like the one in the show, but the overall message is the same. Even if Hannibal is not the Devil, he could be some manifestation of a Wendigo. It makes sense. Remember his back story? He was forced into captivity while hiding by soldiers during an extremely harsh winter during the war. Harsh enough that food became scarce, and the soldiers had to resort to cannibalism. They fed Mischa to Hannibal, which might have triggered something. Ofc this is a reach, but I did want to bring another interpretation into this.
Obviously, this is all just speculation. I love this show, with its dark complexities and incredible depth, and I wanted to talk about something I've been thinking about for a while now. Again, not everything might be correct. I apologize if that's not the case. Please feel free to correct me. I also apologize if this made no sense or was not cohesive, it's pretty late for me, but I couldn't get this out of my head.
I hope it was interesting ;)
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adorabluesposts · 22 hours
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I’m a massively hopeless romantic and hopelessly in love with our short paranoid chaotic duck loving king and the THINGS I WOULD DO TO THIS MAN JUST BECAUSE I LOVE HIM SO MUCH.
Anyway thoughts about he’d react to constant affection because my love is physical affection and maybe sometimes giving him handmade gifts because nothing beats time wasted on handmade shit. I LOVE THIS MAN SM ITS TOO MUCH 😭😭😭
I WANNA CONSTANTLY SHOWER HIM WITH KISSES AND PRAISES PLS.
Basically requesting a fluff with all of the above 💀💀
I also love your writing style sm, hope you’re having a great day/night
buckle up cause this is gonna be SWEET!
Thanks for the appreciation on my writing, I'm still working on it 😭💖 love this sm. This is for the physical affection ppl 🫶🏻
a/n:.. added some acts of service love language too I'm so sorry 😭
NOT PROFFRED.
PROOFREA. PROOFREWD. I can't spell.
NOT PROOFREAD.
(I managed)
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divider by @al-of-the-stars. NOT MINE!!
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It's not a surprise Lucifer's a sucker for physical attention. Not in a sexual way, just hugs and holding hands in the most unusual times.
At first you started off with 'baby steps', occasionally giving him a kiss on his cheek or lips, holding his hand or playing with his suit when he didn't expect it, just to see how he'd react.
He would get flustered, turn into a blushing mess and pretty much feel like his knees would give oit at any minute. He would never admit what an impact you had on him, though.
When the showers of affection got more frequent and he realised what you were doing, every chance he'd get he would basically invite you to do those things for him. He loved tricking you into thinking he didn't know what your love language was and , even if he still got all flustered and was still surprised because he, obviously, didn't know what to expect (a kiss or a hug), he convinced himself he was just acting so flustered to trick you, again.
Of course Lucifer's love for you gets more and more powerful with every kiss.
His wife left him, after all, so he needs all the affection you can offer. He really loves you.
Even though you noticed he still wears his wedding ring sometimes, you know how hard it is to let go, and you showering him with affection actually helps him get through it!
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"Good morning, handsome!" You shower his sleepy face with kisses as he slowly wakes up, watching his grumpy face turn into a weak, tired smile.
"Morning" He smiles and cuos your cheek as you pull away, pushing you back in for a kiss.
He notices you're all dressed already and raises an eyebrow, sitting up. "Where are you going?"
"Well, Your Majesty-" He smiles at you, loving how intimate it sounds when you call him that, "-It's Monday. Meaning I have work to get done."
He frowns and you laugh. "Bummer."
"I made you breakfast, so you might as well get changed." You ruffle his hair as he struggles to put it back in place, even if it was tangled already and playfully huffs at you, lecturing you on how his hair must always be perfect as you leave the room.
When he joins you in the kitchen, you gasp in awe, like every morning. You go up to him and praise him for being so good looking, pestering his face with kisses and telling him how you're falling in love over and over again.
He lovea it truly, holding your waist as you praise him. He looks at you with lovesick eyes and a goofy smile and only let's go when hinger takes the best of him. He praises you back, too, for being such a good cook (or not burning the kitchen down.. in certain people's cases aka me).
Before you leave, he makes sure to leave one of his ducks in your bag , knowing that by now you have millions if them in your office, as you leave one of your handmade gifts, drawings, or sweets in your shared room.
He almost never wants to let you go to work, turning the radio on to twirl you around in the kitchen and kiss your face or hands until it gets so late you either have to run to work or make him open up a portal for you.
It's not his fault he just loves the way you love him.
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Ive never written something so fast in my entire life. THE THINGS LUCI DOES TO ME OMG.
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mistywaves98 · 4 hours
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Nerd Scara <3 stealinh our panties to pleasure himself
Nerd scara finding out were a virgin?!! He would go absolutely Feral, and I know he’s already on his knees sloppily eating us out <3
Or maybe he’s rutting himself into our bed sheets as he sucks on our chest <3 he can’t help himself you feel so warm and good
He's going feral if he finds out he's your first 😶
✧・゚:* ->Loser Nerd! Scaramouche x Fem! Reader
✧・゚:* ->¡Warnings!: NSFW, Cunnilingus, Sub! Reader, Shy! Reader, Fingering, Overstimulation, Only one line of Dialogue!
After all those nights of jerking off with the lacy undies he stole borrowed from you and imagining what your pretty little pussy must look like beneath them, he never thought that he'd get to see or even taste the real thing.
But here you were, sitting on the couch of your dorm, legs spread to reveal your bare folds to his perverted gaze as he you shyly cover your face to hide your embarrassment. He's like a kid receiving candy as his fingers hesitantly rub along your slit, the feeling of your arousal coating his hand and your soft moans making his dick harden beneath the fabric of his pants.
Once Scaramouche gets over his initial shock and accepts the fact that he's really the first person to ever touch you so intimately, he completely lets himself go. He presses his face into your pussy, his tongue messily lathering up your juices as his nose nudges your clit. His hands curl around your plush thighs, nails leaving marks on your soft skin from how hard he's gripping them as he holds them over his shoulders. The way your thighs suffocate the sides of his head is heavenly and he groans as your delicate fingers weave their way into his hair, tugging him as close as he could physically be.
Scaramouche feels like he could cum just from tasting you on his tongue, shameless moans vibrating against your sensitive folds. The wet muscle makes an absolute mess between your legs as saliva coats your outer lips. Your head is thrown back in pleasure when he shoves two fingers up your cunt, pulling back a bit to admire the way your tight walls suck them in. You're squeezing his fingers so hard, Scaramouche can only imagine how it would feel if he replaced them with his stiff cock.
He moves to work on your neglected bud, warm mouth enveloping the swollen bundle of nerves and sucking feverishly. Your face is flushed and sweaty, chest heaving as whines for more fall from parted lips. Your body spasms and shudders in his firm grasp as he makes you cum on his tongue, again and again. Moans for more eventually morph into cries asking him to stop, that it's too much. But he's too pussy drunk by now to listen.
His spit mixed with your cum covers the lower half of his face and Scaramouche is sure that he's probably climaxed at least once in his pants from eating you out non stop for the past hour or two. The glasses that now sit crooked on his face are also dirtied, making it difficult to see but he doesn't need to see when he can just taste you.
After what feels like forever, he finally removes his head from between your legs. Strings of saliva connect his lips to your cunt. He looks like a mess, hair disheveled with cum covered glasses and face but he isn't done yet. Tears of overstimulation that have now dried up stain your puffy cheeks as he pushes you onto the couch, getting on top. You can feel his clothed erection against your abused pussy, making you writhe as he holds you down to prevent you from escaping.
He grabs your wrists and holds them above your head, leaning in to whisper in a raspy tone,"You taste so fucking good... I can't get enough. I want to see you cum because of me, because of my mouth, my fingers..and my cock..."
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maryrouille · 16 hours
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Toxic romanticization of studying
In a word of introduction, my profile partly shows that studying and exploring is wonderful. But as a person involved in science*, I would like to show healthy and true patterns of this beautiful adventure in acquiring knowledge.
The inspiration for writing this post this time was not the phenomenon from Tumblr (although you can also observe it here), but from Pinterest. There you can come across cycles composed of quotes and photos whose aim is to motivate young girls to learn, succeed and get good grades. These images often also show examples of characters from movies, TV series or real life that you can aspire to be like. Overall, I have to agree that it really works! But I would like to draw attention to certain elements that need to be verified.
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1. You shouldn't get up at 5am
First of all, the correct amount of sleep is one of the most important factors affecting the proper and effective functioning of our brain. During sleep, nerve cells regenerate, organize information acquired during the day and consolidate memory traces, which is directly related to learning. Lack of sleep increases impulsivity, deepens negative thinking and slows down the body's reaction time!
2. You can be a genius without good grades
Of course, good grades are a pleasant confirmation of our knowledge and praise for hard work. However, sometimes it is worth considering whether the structure of exams themselves, especially those with closed questions, affects the results. We often study for one specific exam, the knowledge of which may be very… limited and sometimes not useful, so it is worth prioritizing the topics that we study hard.
3. It's not cool to think you're better than others
We are different and have different priorities in life. It is also worth considering how many people escape from the rat race and start a slow, stress-free life. So we have to agree that judging people based on grades or responses under stress (sic!) is not cool.
The good thing about romanticizing studying
As I have already said, these types of collages are really motivating. So let's talk about what's great about them and what's worth highlighting and saving for later.
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1. Knowledge is beautiful, but your outfit and surroundings can also be
We know that we should never judge a book by its cover, but… the issue of social perception painfully confirms that we do and will continue to do so because this is how our brains work. And isn't it nice when someone looks at us and thinks this girl is so classy?
Moreover, a nice outfit that makes us feel good gives us a lot of self-confidence. There are also many studies confirming the positive impact on motivation and concentration of a neat and aesthetic workplace.
2. Not just cramming, but also discovering
Broadening your horizons is easier with passion and real commitment. And to achieve this, the topics must really interest us. Not everyone has yet found something that they are extremely passionate about in science, so that is why you have to dig deeper and discover different areas.
3. Don't be afraid to use your knowledge in practice
Schools and universities, unfortunately, have their own rules and they do not always allow you to show your 100% potential. Thus, share your knowledge with others externally, write essays, blog and social media. This form of activity also makes you learn things faster and easier. In addition, contacts with others will expand your knowledge.
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Therefore, I must say that it is worth choosing your inspirations carefully. Nothing helps you enjoy studying better than a clear head and lack of prejudices.
*This post was inspired by my own experience with studying. If anyone is interested, I think I can share my mistakes that did not help me in an academic adventure :)
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supercalime · 1 day
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hellooo, fellow bucktommy shipper (and casual b*ddie enjoyer, if it weren't for the horrors...) here! i really liked your take on b*ddie st*ns and how they are now making super wild assumptions based on some latest interviews.
you know one thing that irks me? somehow nobody seems to talk about is the fact that in canon, buck isn't written to be in love with eddie at all. like, can we please talk about this??? because I'm all for Death Of The Author. OS can talk about ships all he wants but in the end, only the canon narrative matters to me personally. i've watched long-form content with endgame couples being set up in the pilot episodes who become canon many seasons later (bones, castle, grey's anatomy, the mentalist, etc.), and the entire point of such couples is to establish that, yes, they have been having romantic feelings all this time since day one. they do so very very obviously. there is zero subtlety or room for questioning.
one of the most common tropes is to give one or both characters (of the endgame couple) another love interest so that the endgame couple can be full of jealousy and pettiness every time that other love interest is mentioned or shown. having another love interests always endangers the original closeness of the endgame couple, and then the breakup propels the endgame couple forward in their relationship. the love interest is always used for comparisons, to make it abundantly clear that everybody else is lacking in some way. at no point in 911 did they do so with buck and eddie??? these dudes go through various romantic relationships, and never ever has it been any issue to the b*ddie dynamic. never was it talked about. never were hints dropped that one of them is jealous. even now, with bucktommy, eddie shows not a single ounce of jealously. on the other side, look at how they showed us buck being obviously jealous because eddie monopolized tommy's time even though buck wanted tommy time himself! buck couldn't stand the jealousy even a little bit, and he ended up literally hurting his bestie because of it. but whenever eddie is involved romantically and sexually with someone, there are zero signs that buck is bothered or threatened or jealous. they both seem super chill? they do not question at any point that them dating other people might hurt their relationship? logically, that must mean buck's never wanted to be romantically or sexually involved with eddie (and vice versa). at it's core, b*ddie has been written as a friendship. to this day, we have no canon proof for anything else.
i would not hate b*ddie to happen or anything. i do enjoy b*ddie fics (those that aren't super misogynist ♥). and i think it could be a great couple if done well! but as you said, even when buck thought eddie was hot... well, so what? that's literally just an objective observation. RG is handsome based on societal standards. chim and hen also immediately acknowledged that eddie was hot in 2x01, and both of them are Not At All romantically or sexually attracted to eddie either. nobody is questioning chim's or hen's sexuality based on the comments they made about eddie being hot. because nothing about this equals real romantic feelings or the desire to be in a relationship. the fandom understands that logic just fine with chim and hen. why not with buck, though? also, we have yet to see a reversed moment for eddie staring at buck and finding him hot. they had no problem to show eddie Immediately having a crush on ana flores when he first met her. this shows that eddie feels sexual attraction just fine. he was, however, never shown in canon to feel it for buck.
also interesting: even though buck found eddie hot when they first met, it did not trigger buck to seriously question his sexuality at any point in the past like, 5 years or so. in all those years of canon b*ddie friendship, the show has never used the plethora of opportunities to propel b*ddie into romantic or sexual territory. the show could have! but the show never did, so i refuse to let b*ddie st*ns or OS retcon this. if it's not in the canon material, it isn't canon. with tommy, it took only a couple of weeks and a handful of interactions for buck to reach a point of clarity about his sexuality. the most logical deduction imo is that buck simply clocked that eddie's hot (like everybody else, duh, he isn't special in that regard), and it's never meant anything deep.
my only real probem with this entire situation is how hardcore b*ddie st*ns are now using this as a justification to harass others even more (especially bucktommy shippers). i'd love to enjoy canon bucktommy and fanon b*ddie in peace! but the hate that b*ddie st*ns are spreading everywhere again (like with every new season and newly introduced love interest) is so overwhelming.
sorry for the long ass rant btw oopsie. feel free to ignore this. i just wanted to let it out and it seemed like you would understand. anyway, thanks for reading in case you got this far!
I’d never ignore a sensible take, anon! (I feel bad that you had to go anon but I understand. We know the drill by now, some stans are scary lol)
But like, ALL OF THIS!!!
Discourse like this is what takes away the enjoyment of media for me. It sucks that fandom experience can have two very extreme opposing sides, specially when it comes to two “competing” ships. You can kinda tell by how bucktommy shippers behave (I’m not trying to flex at all because I am one. A good majority of us has zero problem with b*ddie endgame even though we prefer the other. We like what we are getting and are happy to see this storyline play out) compared to b*ddie shippers (of course not all of them, I’m talking about the entitled ones. That clog comment sections, bother actors, go to the other ships tag to complain about it and say how their preferred ship is better, etc).
Im not immune to bad takes and bad fan behavior. Ive surely acted like these stans in other fandoms and i do regret it, so i hate seeing it happen again and again, no matter where i go.
Not to quote mean girls, but I wish we could all get along…
All that being said, whichever ship “wins”, it’s no one’s call but the writers and producers of the show. Someone told me that Tim writes for himself and doesn’t take outside factors (at least to an extent cause it’s impossible to not know the fan reaction) into consideration when it comes to where he wants the story to go.
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buddiebeginz · 2 days
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I keep seeing posts about how us Buddie fans are just being delusional. How we need to stop reading so much into what’s being said during interviews and oh also how it’s offensive to the current ship.
First of all let’s be clear here Buck is NOT in a relationship with Tommy. I feel like this is something you Buck/Tommy shippers are failing to grasp because I constantly see posts about how Buck shouldn’t cheat on Tommy. They have kissed once and been on 2ish dates they are not a couple yet. Being exclusive requires a conversation or at least some acknowledgment by the characters and we haven’t had that yet. They still barely know each other.
Second we have always theorized about Buddie when the characters were with other love interests. We did when Buck was with Taylor. We did when Eddie was with Ana. Is it somehow different now because Tommy is a guy? Is it different now because Buck and Tommy aren't straight? Or is it just because Buck is dating the guy you want him to be with now? I don't know there's just something very strange about how some of you are responding to Buddie/Buddie shippers with all of this.
What's even crazier to me is that so many of you who are all about Buck/Tommy now used to be Buddie shippers or still say you'll be happy if Buddie happens down the line. Yet you're still attacking Buddie and our meta and speculation because it threatens the current ship you want at the moment.
No one is saying that every one of our theories and speculation is 100% correct but we have always speculated on the show and the interviews this isn't something new people are doing. I feel like the response some you have is that we're somehow seeing/hearing only what we want to and or twisting the words of the actors/etc to fit some kind narrative we have about Buddie.
It's not like we're seeing interviews where Oliver, Lou, Tim, etc are saying Buck and Tommy are going to be together 4eva and then immediately twisting that to mean oh they must be lying Buddie is so obviously happening tomorrow. We're inferring what we think might happen based on spoilers and what the actors (and Tim) have said combined with what we hope might happen. We know not everything we think will happen will. We had a ton of theories on 7x04 and 7x05 (many of which turned out to not be true) and despite what some of you think we didn't all collectively lose our shit because they didn't come true.
You can dislike Buddie and us all you want and can disagree with us or our theories all you want but these posts talking about how we're just seeing what we want and setting ourselves up for disappointment come across as hypocritical (considering most of you used to be Buddie shippers) and patronizing. We don't need or want you to save us from our fandom experience. If we're disappointed by the storyline that's our business but right now we're having fun with where things in the show are and are going.
---
I also really don't like how some of you are trashing Buddie to prop up Buck/Tommy. Basically saying that because Buck and Eddie's feelings haven't been verbally confirmed on screen (like in an I'm in love with you kind of way) that we're making it into something it's not and it's not fair to Buck/Tommy because they are canon.
Buddie isn't in a romantic relationship at the moment but they have loved and supported one another and always been been more than friends since basically the beginning. Even Oliver just confirmed that Buck was attracted to Eddie from the first scene. And no attraction alone doesn't equal love but if you can look at the six seasons of history shared by these two characters and only see two bros being the bestest friends you really need to take some media literacy.
I feel like some of you don't understand that not every part of a fictional story is spelled out super literally nor should it be. We know how deep Buck and Eddie's love goes because we can infer that based on their scenes. On all the ways they are there for one another, on how they treat each other, on how their relationship differs from the other friendships on the show. On all the things they say and don't say to one another. A big reason we want to see them in a canon romantic relationship is because of how clear the show has already made it that these two men love each other.
As for Tommy even though I'm not a multishipper I get Tommy's significance in the storyline. I'm also more thankful than I can put into words that Oliver and the show have decided to do Buck's bi awakening storyline epecially considering I'm bi myself. Buck being bi and his journey is incredibly important all on it's own but Buddie being canon is equally as important not because we need to see these guys together but because of what they represent. We have never had a slow burn same sex love story like this and the way it would change media forever if Buddie were to be canon cannot be understated.
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nalyra-dreaming · 2 days
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Hi! I don't know if this has been asked before (it feels like it will have been) and my apologies if it has but:
If Louis recovering his memories from Armand's mind control thing... Why is Armand allowing this second interview to go ahead? Especially when Daniel is obviously able to get to Louis?
Hey! :)
well... for one I think it needs to be differentiated what "control" is... Like, canonically Armand spellbinds Louis on several occasions in Paris. For example. That... is for more selfish reasons, I would say, we will see how they will spin it in the show.
Later on though, when he seems to have "tinkered" (as Assad called it) in the show... that was likely done in an effort to "help", imho - because he does love Louis. And Louis suffers. The things Louis will remember now... will not be pretty. On the contrary, it will be beyond painful what will be uncovered.
And then, of course, there is the aspect of "the Devil's Minion" having happened in the past (as I am quite sure we will get to see at least parts of in the upcoming seasons)... Armand loves Daniel, Daniel who book canonically becomes his only fledgling.
So, with that in mind...
We know Daniel was kept track off, the package with the tapes arrives in his post box without an address on it (for example), his medical status is known, and there is medicine for him there, which was prepared, and which is not what they claim it to be (the side effects don't match, as noted by others).
I think Louis might have... come to the conclusion at some point that a few things do not match, and I think... that he leveraged the idea of redoing the interview, in an effort to get Daniel to Dubai, and in an effort to slay multiple dragons at once:
Redo the interview. Find out what his subconscious is telling him, what Armand might be hiding (possibly hidden with Louis knowing !- that is also a possibility, that he asked for the memories to be taken away, but has doubts now?! We'll see^^)
Reunite Armand and Daniel, because he does not want Armand to be alone after... because Louis is tired. And if Claudia's diaries are used as I think they will be (as the catalyst they were in the books), then this season will end rather... cataclysmic.
Find a way to at least prolong Daniel's life. As noted above the medicine Daniel gets had to be prepared, and Fareed's presence is no coincidence, it hints at... certain things. (Fareed is the physician/scientist of the vampires in the later books).
Armand... Armand "allows" this because he needs to prolong Daniel's life, wants to see him again, and... loves Louis. And there is also the aspect that what he is keeping from Louis and Daniel - if deliberately or by promise - must weigh quite heavily on him.
I think there is at least a tiny part of him which looks forward to it all being revealed, because being the only one to know the truth... must be a heavy burden.
... ultimately I think it's not clear cut. "Decisions are made of kneaded feelings" (to quote Hannibal here) and all that.
There are a lot of aspects playing into it all. And a lot of them have to do with potential (and very real) emotional hurt.
Which is also (I think) why he decided on a role play at first - to protect his heart, more than anything else.
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bird-inacage · 3 days
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The Heart Killers Trailer: Initial Observations (FirstKhao Edition)
I'd like to thank Jesus, Buddha, Santa, Thor, whatever holy BL spirits reside above, and all hail our lord and saviour P'Jojo. This exceeded my expectations of what was coming and then some. So here are my initial takeaways from the trailer that blew my head clean off.
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General premise goes: By night, Fadel and Bison are assassins for hire, but they only kill who they deem are the 'bad guys' (most likely corrupt politicians, sketchy businessmen and the like). By day they run a seemingly ordinary restaurant. A cop asks tattoo artist Kant for his help is getting these two caught. He agrees on the basis that this will clear his criminal record. In order to keep Fadel distracted from his advances on Bison, Kant convinces his mechanic friend Style to woo him. I expect to see cat-and-mouse, games of deception type plot here which should be really good fun.
FIRST IMPRESSIONS: BISON
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Aside from the fact that Bison kills for a living, he actually seems like a sweetheart. He comes across as the more jovial, friendly and optimistic of the two brothers. He has no hesitation in offering to make special accommodations for Kant's dietary preferences. He seems to fondly prod his brother to open up to people, and to allow 'sunshine' into his life.
Fadel says, "Because I'm selective, not easy like you". "In this line of work, don't trust people too easily", a signposted concern that his little brother may struggle on this front. Seems to make a point of warning him to use his head rather than his heart.
Bison also tells Kant that his trust once lost means the person is question may as well be dead to him. If he does tend to trust easily, any betrayal would be understandably much more hurtful in his eyes.
FIRST IMPRESSIONS: KANT
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Kant's ulterior motive is what brings him to Bison in the first place. The two supposedly have a one night stand, which leads to Kant falling in love with him. Whilst both parties are hiding who they really are, and what they're really up to, Kant appears increasingly guilty and conflicted by this. "What if I'm not who you think I am. Would you hate me then?" But on the other hand his feelings of guilt go hand in hand with the knowledge that Bison's capture or downfall would be his ticket to get what he wants. A decision that has him trapped. He seems to question whether he should trust Bison and whether that will come back to bite him. "My brother always says, don't trust anyone too easily. Otherwise, you end up being the victim."
It also speaks volumes that a cop would approach Kant with this proposition. It means Kant is clearly very competent at what he does, and has side-hustled as a vigilante before. So Kant must be pretty cunning or smart. For example he appears to knock his knife off the table in the restaurant to test Bison's reflexes.
RELATIONSHIP DYNAMIC
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There's definitely a connecting theme of secrecy. Their intimacy is kept in secret due to Bison claiming his brother will kill them both if he finds out. Bison is keeping his murderous activities a secret (for obvious reasons). Kant is keeping his investigative activities a secret.
We can obviously expect this to all come to a head when the truth is revealed and identities are fully out in the open. Can Kant accept Bison for what he does and his lifestyle, potentially forgoing the possibility of clearing his record, in order to protect him? Can Bison forgive Kant for hiding his true motives, and trust him again - at the risk of both himself and his brother?
There will be a clear point of convergence between these two, when Bison starts to consider changing his life, if it means staying in Kant's. This echoes how Kant wants to clear his criminal record, perhaps in an attempt to wipe his slate clean so he can finally move on from whatever life he led before. There's a shared vision of moving away from the lifestyles that are bad for us.
OTHER OBSERVATIONS
STYLE / AESTHETICS: One thing P'Jojo knows how to do so well is create a distinct sense of style and atmosphere. This man is a pro at combining the right set design, styling, music and ambience to create a really identifiable flavour that is instantly recognisable. The music in this trailer is a friggin' BOP.
THE EFFING TATTOOS: I will say this till the end of time, but First as Yok was one of my favourite things ever. And seeing First with tattoos again just made me weak in the knees in all the best ways possible.
LEATHER GALORE: Khaotung in leather jackets. That's it. That's my observation. And I was staring. Very appreciatively may I add.
Also, the fact that Khao, who looks noticeably dinky next to the hulking giants of this cast is called Bison. BISON.
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jolenes-doppelganger · 12 hours
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Desert Storm
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Reverend Mother Jessica x Fem! Fremen Reader NSFW
Request: “Soooo I got this idea stuck in my mind. RM Jessica falls for the woman that her son, Paul, is also in love with. Basically, reader is like Chani, but not really 😅 So, RM Jessica will do everything in her power to steal her away from her own son (successfully coz she got me on a chokehold fr wink*). Yandere vibes or something close to that. I'll let you decide if you'll add some spice and everything nice.” from @buttercandy16
Warnings: Ritualistic groping, sweat and tear ingestion, erotic lactation and breastfeeding, Jessica and Alia telepathically beefing, Jessica is her own warning
A/N: Don't look me in the eyes, believe me, I know how the warnings sound. May my Catholic mother's prayers cleanse these sinful hands that hath created this abomination. (Sexy abomination, *wink wink*).
Word Count: 4.4k of filth
The water of life had opened her mind in unimaginable ways. What once had been a struggle to do, power that had been a struggle to wield, became light. Jessica could see things and feel things that felt almost wrong to be able to digest. Waking up in the midst of the Fremen Sayyadina as they were panting and sighing in ecstasy felt strange. They’d drank of the sweat on her forehead, and the potent spice had acted as a powerful stimulant, and in some cases an aphrodisiac. Jessica watched as a pair of the Sayyadina grasped another, the two of them passionately kissing one another. It was odd to see such open intimacy between two people, between two women.
“Reverend Mother, they wish to make (Reader) a Sayyadina with you.” a Fremen priestess murmured, drinking from her skin as a trickle of sweat came down her forehead.
“Bring… Her in.” Jessica whispered.
The dead Reverend Mother was bound, carried away as the remaining lucid Sayyadina did their part to prepare her. The soon to be Sayyadina, (Reader), was brought forward. Jessica stared up at her with newly blue-stained eyes. 
“You must drink of the sweat on her face.” the sayyadina instructed the girl.
Jessica watched as you kneeled in front of her, gently searching for a bit of sweat to ingest. Most of it had been taken already, only a patch on her upper lip remained accessible. You leaned forward, pressing your lips to the flesh just below her lip, gently licking away the sweat there. Jessica reached forward, hands grasping desperately at you.
“I see.” Jessica whispered, grabbing your face. “Oh, I see what he sees.”
Jessica promptly closed her eyes, dropping into a sleep of pure exhaustion. As she slept, as she dreamed, she dreamed of you. With one little touch, she’d been granted powerful insight into your being, your composition and your bearing. You were Fremen, desert strong. Capable of withstanding more than some of the most acclimated soldiers. And Jessica liked that.
“Stay with her. We will tell the man child.”
You were left to watch over the new Reverend Mother, the slow potency of the spice saturated sweat causing a slow smoldering heat in you. Several Sayyadina around you were in the middle of hunting down their husbands and partners, overcome by the effect of it all. You sat still, observing the slow breaths of the new religious leader in your group. 
<>
“Mother, she’s Paul’s!” Alia spoke to Jessica. 
It had been several weeks since Jessica had taken the water of life, several weeks since Alia had gained consciousness and begun speaking to her in utero. What had first been a new blessing had become another aggravation. Alia was sweet. Dedicated, loving and loyal to a fault. Every bit her father’s child. But Jessica shared a connection with her that allowed the child access to her foremost thoughts, desires and ideas.
“If you don’t hush.” Jessica whispered back.
“What did you say?” you asked, frowning.
“My child speaks.” Jessica replied, then adding, “Of nonsense.”
“Mom!!!” Alia cried.
You saw Jessica’s face contort into a steely expression as she appeared to silently reprimand the conscious fetus inside of her. It was strange, watching her interact with her daughter. Moreso, it was strange watching the other Sayyadina react to it all. You were with Paul mostly, attacking Harkonnen spice mining crews and machines, but recently Jessica had been requesting your presence on a frequent basis, requiring you more and more often. 
“She is… Fully conscious?” you asked, eyeing the soft bump warily.
“Mmm. Yes.” Jessica replied, eyeing you with indiscernible interest. “She speaks like an adult, I believe she has the intellect of an adult as well. However, she is inexperienced in the ways of the world and knows it only through ancestral memory. She must learn to listen to her mother.” Jessica finished, a deadly warning in her expression meant for an individual without eyes to see it with.
Jessica extended her hand.
“Feel.” 
You walked forward, a bit nervous. She was only ten weeks or so along, there was hardly a bump there. You placed your hand in hers, and she smiled, bringing it to rest quite low.*
“The baby will sit just above my pubic bone, you won’t feel movement, but you can feel the soft bump.” Jessica whispered, eyeing you in that strange way she was quite fond of.
“Oh. Thank you, Reverend Mother.” 
Jessica smiled again, gently toying with your blue headband.
“You’ve begun to wear this quite often. What does it mean?”
The question caused you to blush. The piece of fabric was quite irrelevant, but the color was significant for many things.
“Oh… Well. We Fremen wear blue when we’re in love.”
Jessica’s eyes grew sharp and her hand stilled.
“With who?” 
“Well, your son.” you admitted.
Jessica was quite silent for a period that was out of character for her. By the way she stared straight ahead, it was clear that she wasn’t talking to Alia. Her lips would often quirk when conversing with the child, and her eyes would dart around in thought. But she was deadly silent at this moment. No quiver of her lips, no movement of her eyes, not even the slightest twitch.
“I see.” Jessica finally said. “You make a mistake, assuming he can love you.” she whispered, leaning in predatorily. “My daughter Alia reminds him often that he must reserve his hand for the most diplomatically beneficial match.” 
You clenched your teeth, drawing away from her.
“Paul can make his own choices without you two involving yourselves.” you replied, venom boiling through your words.
Your feet moved of their own accord, drawing towards the exit and out of Jessica’s room, forgetting the code of conduct. You were to formally greet and bid goodbye to the Reverend Mother at all times, to provide respect.
“Stop.”
You froze, breath caught in your throat at the barked order. She’d never used the Voice on you before, and you’d never seen it used.
“You will respect your Reverend Mothers.” Jessica spoke, in a two-toned voice. “All of us.”
Chills ran up and down your spine as you turned, viewing Jessica in fear.
“Come here.”
You were forced to walk back towards her. She grabbed your face with both hands, eyes wild as she observed you. 
“I will be leaving to spread the news of Paul in the south. You will come with me.”
You shook your head. You were Feydakin, and a fighter. Your primary role to the tribe was not being a priestess, but being a fighter. To leave Paul to fight without you would leave him vulnerable, without relief from his dreams. Sure, he had Silgar, but the man was a fool and only fueled the Bene Gesserit delusions. Who would be the voice of reason amidst all of this?
“I am Feydakin.”
“No, you are Sayyadina. You go where I tell you to go, when I tell you to go. And as your Reverend Mother, I have the say over the matter. I want a fighter by my side, can’t you see?” Jessica whispered, eyes clouding over in soft anxiety. 
Even though Jessica was Bene Gesserit, you’d always had a six sense for when someone was playing you. This was Jessica playing.
“You defeated Stilgar.” you retorted. “You are fighter enough.
“But I am pregnant.” Jessica replied. “And that was weeks ago. I will only continue to get bigger, to become more immobile. I will need a trusted protector.” 
You eyed her with extreme skepticism, taking a moment to let her words hang. Most liars filled silence by instinct, word vomit flying out of their mouths under pressure. But Jessica knew that trick. And although her real reasons for having you close to her weren’t reasons previously given, her being pregnant was a viable excuse she could use if needed.
“It’s because you don’t want me to date Paul, isn’t it? My common Fremen blood isn’t good enough for him?” 
Jessica laughed. It sounded unkind.
“No. Paul would be lucky to have someone as headstrong and wise as you for a partner, especially someone who is both those things and young, fertile. But his future lies elsewhere. And I do care for you. I would hate to see you hurt.”
She stepped forward, placing both her hands on your shoulders. She was back on her game. You had a sense that she was telling the truth, but only partly.
“Paul will join us in the south when he is ready. Distance will fizzle out the bond or… Make it stronger.” her face twitched. “But I believe it will be solidly the former.”
It was a struggle to stay in that room. You wanted to run out of her room to find the nearest corner to lie in. Not cry. You were Fremen. You didn’t cry over broken hearts and star-crossed love affairs. Not even the dead.
“I wish to be dismissed.” you managed, voice hoarse.
“No. You will stay with me, in my sight until we leave. It is better this way. Separate yourself where you can.”
“Reverend Mother, I wish to leave.” you repeated.
You needed a quiet corner, a place to breathe out and vent your pain without crying. This was humiliation, this was hurtful, this was heartbreak. And you needed to deliver the burden outward. Not in front of this woman with words shaped more like daggers, chipping away at year’s worth of armor to prevent you from crying. 
“No.” 
“You don’t understand, I need-”
“I am well aware of what you think you need.” Jessica interrupted, “And I assure you that it would be better to stay with me. I am what you need.”
It was a battle. Both internal and external. But you weren’t the only one boiling with voices too loud.
“Mother let her go, mother let her go!” Alia repeated over and over. “She will crack, she will waste water, you cannot let her waste water.”
“Silence!” Jessica spat, clutching at her womb. “You, sit.” she pointed.
Her usage of the voice was becoming more and more frequent, and it was directly tied to how in control she felt. It wasn’t something she used lightly, but as tensions and excitement rose, her composure would wear slightly, and she’d use it less sparingly.
“I do not care for your insolence, Alia.” Jessica began to berate her daughter aloud. “It is both rude and unwelcome. These are adult matters. I.. Hold your tongue. Stop interrupting me.. No, I don’t care if you have an adult mind, it is quite literally irrelevant to your circle of control.”
The argument once again turned internal, with Jessica’s lips twitching wordlessly. The debate was intense, and evidently not meant for your ears.
“There.” Jessica sighed, massaging her temples. “Forgive the interruption, she is just so opinionated.” 
Her eyes flashed with her last statement, a hidden anger rooted there. Then she moved, sitting beside you with a sigh. You were still fighting tears. She reached a hand out, moving to fold a bit of your hair back into the bonnet.
“Don’t touch me.” you snapped.
Jessica snorted, continuing to fuss over your hair.
“Your hair is covered in sand.”
“We’re on a desert planet.” you retorted.
Jessica didn’t respond. Instead, she got up and grabbed a comb, undoing your day’s old braid and gently combing out the dust and sand. She braided it in a style that was a bit foreign, beginning the braid from the crown of your head instead of the root. Once complete, she tied a scarf over your hairline. A soft beige. Decidedly neutral. The blue bonnet was confiscated.
“So you’re deciding what I can and can’t feel now?” you said.
Your words sounded more wounded than you intended them to.
“No. I’m simply tying a fresh scarf over you. This one needs to dry.”
You rolled your eyes.
“You can’t clean things in the desert.”
“Air does wonderful things. So does the sun.”
The urge to backtalk her more was deafening. The words posed on the tip of your tongue, like a serpent waiting to strike.
“Come. It is time to rest.”
“It is midday, Reverend Mother.”
“And I am tired, and I will not allow you to escape from my watch. You will join me.”
Her words were not laced with a command of the Voice, but she probably could add it if you didn’t comply. Her hands pulled your outer robes off. She kept herself in a thin, sleeveless dress, pulling you into her. Why Jessica needed you this close was up for debate. You assumed it was because she desired control. She assumed that too, but a third voice quietly thought otherwise.
“You smell like the sun.” Jessica murmured, pressing her nose into your hair.
“And you smell like sweat.”
Neither scent was necessarily bad in the Fremen culture. No one would tell Jessica that her sweat was bad, a body was just a body, and it smelled as such. And the slightly burned scent of hair was just that. The sun roasted strange scents and colors into a person after a while. You would smell as such.
“Are your periods still regular?” she asked, the question phrased not unkindly.
“Yes.” you murmured. 
“Good, that’s good.”
It was odd that she’d fret over your fertility while simultaneously resenting your relationship with Paul. But she was an odd character. It would be natural for her to have odd questions.
“Closer, lie closer to me.” Jessica whispered.
This rest, you would not.
<->
“Closer, I need you closer.” you whispered, pressing your face into Jessica’s neck.
She hummed, sleepily pulling you in, adjusting the pillow around her swollen belly to accommodate your increased closeness.
“You’re needy this morning.” Jessica sighed.
“Hmm?” you frowned.
“Not you, Alia.” Jessica sighed. “You’re always welcome for a cuddle.”
She let out a contented hum, pulling you as close as she could with her belly protruding. Her nose rested against your forehead, you could feel the moisture of her breath. The cuddle lasted a few more moments before a Sayyadina entered, informing Jessica from behind the fabric curtain of her yali that breakfast would be served in a quarter of an hour.
“Help me up.” Jessica murmured, rubbing her eyes.
You gently helped her to sit, pulling back the thin sheet. Her feet were swollen.
“Oh.” you winced.
“The joys of pregnancy, I know.” Jessica sarcastically grimaced.
Her sighs of pain turned to those of relief as you slowly worked your hands over her feet, massaging the swollen calves and tendons. The Reverend Mother propped herself up with a pillow, drawing slow circles over her belly as you worked on her feet. Her lips were pursed, she was in deep conversation with Alia. Jessica laughed a little at whatever the child said, and then nodded. You watched in fascination as her belly began to tremble slightly.
“Morning exercise.” Jessica explained. “Feel.”
She held your hands over her large belly as Alia kicked inside. You could feel the consistent, violent movement inside.
“You let her do that?” you frowned.
“It’s good for her, she needs to move her limbs, she needs the stimulation. But she does ask before kicking, or does so when she requires touch.”
The explanation was sufficient, and fascinating.Hers and Alia’s relationship was complicated, but amusing from the eyes of an outsider. You grabbed her robes and yours, helping her dress. She preferred bare feet most days, but today you coerced her into wearing soft moccasins to support her tender feet. Her hands lingered over yours as you adjusted her outer robes. 
“Thank you.” Jessica murmured, pressing a slow kiss to your temple. 
Following breakfast, Jessica drew you towards the Fremen temple where the masses were meditating. Today was a more quiet moment. Jessica was requiring of a specific ritual of group contact today, a spring rite. She brought you forward, resting her legs around your hips, yours fitted loosely around her bottom. Another Sayyadina came behind her, resting her hands on Jessica’s abdomen and pressing her pelvis into Jessica’s bottom. Spice was passed around, and members slowly began to sway together in a throng. But something was different today. More Fremen holy men and women began to touch more freely with one another. The Sayyadina with her pelvis pressed against your back began to sway with you. Desire. Her breath was hot on your neck, and her hands fitted loosely on your stomach. Jessica leaned into the arms of the Fremen priestess behind her. The breath of the group began getting heavier, labored. You could feel the energy surrounding you, the heaviness in the air. Touching slowly became more sensual, caresses of the torso more common. 
Jessica kept your hands in hers, swaying more frequently. The Sayyadina behind her began to draw her hands over her more sensually, as did the Sayyadina behind you. Fingers pulling at the fabric of your robes, hands drawing over your abdomen, over your thighs, and eventually slipping up your collarbone. The Sayyadina behind Jessica was more brave, fingers kneading the swollen curves of her breasts. It was a spring ritual, meant to further the fertility of the Fremen, meant to inspire the energy of life around them. It was what the people needed, it was what the people required. But your role in this was confusing. Why had Jessica placed you opposite her? Were you a symbol of the Fremen’s future? The Sayyadina behind you placed both her hands over your womb, and a distant chant for fertility began in the back of the room. It bloomed until everyone aside from Jessica and yourself were chanting. It was deafening and was confusing. The sight in front of you didn’t help. The Sayyadina behind Jessica had her hands pressed firmly against Jessica’s chest, groping and pulling at her swelling breasts. It should have disgusted you, this sight. But it didn’t. A distinctly different feeling came forth. It wasn’t until you were out of the ritual, back into Jessica’s chambers, that you pieced it together.
“You ran off fast.” Jessica rasped, soft footsteps filling the yali.
“I had a lot to think about.” 
You noticed her bare feet. Feet that you distinctly remembered placing in moccasins earlier. Another stab of jealousy snuck up through your throat.
“Where are your moccasins, Reverend Mother?”
“Nabiya has them. I didn’t want them anymore.” Jessica sighed.
“Nabiya?”
“The Sayyadina behind me during the ritual.”
You clenched your jaw, looking away. They were confusing, these feelings you were having as of late. Jessica noted your closed off nature, laughing a little.
“Oh come on, now.” Jessica sighed, wrapping her arms around you, her belly pressing into your back. “It was a ritual, I am a pregnant, fertile woman, and a Reverend Mother. You are too. This will bring the Fremen much joy, to see their holy women fertile and strong.”
“That’s not what this is about.”
Jessica rolled her eyes, clicking her tongue softly.
“That ritual isn’t done every year. I distinctly remember the last Reverend Mother doing it last year.”
“Yes, but I am a new Reverend Mother, and we are in a time of great anxiety and excitement. It is important to encourage the community to reproduce.” Jessica murmured. “It is important to remind you of the beauty of your youth…”
“Paul is my chosen-”
“Hush.” Jessica cut you off. “None of that.”
There was a burning in your eyes, and you looked up at the ceiling of the yali to avoid crying.
“Shh, shh.” Jessica murmured, stroking your head. “You have such a limited idea of what your life could be.”
“I’m useless here.” you protested. “I should be beside him, I should be fighting for my people instead of sitting in rooms while people touch me and praise my unproven fertility.”
Jessica hummed, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. Her hands hadn’t stilled their soothing caresses over your face and neck.
“Come, lie on the bed with me.”
You were weakened to her requests as it was a matter of compliance as well as comfort. Jessica’s arms encircled your body, and she hummed softly, drawing her fingers over your scalp.
“There will be another. One for you to love.”
“Reverend Mother, Paul said he loved me.”
Jessica smiled sadly, placing another kiss on your forehead. Her hands drew lower, resting on your neck.
“He has found another.”
All of the air escaped your lungs in a wheeze. Jessica’s forehead softened, and she brought you in for a deeper hug. 
“Don’t cry, I know, I know it hurts.” she murmured.
You got the sense that she did care. The months spent at her side as Alia had grown resulted in softer, more empathetic moments from the usually hardened holy leader. And besides Paul and Alia, you were one of the few people she cared for, probably the only Fremen she viewed as anything except a pawn.
“Who?” you whimpered. “Who does he love?”
Jessica shook her head. She pressed kiss after kiss over your face, fingers drawing up and down your back.
“Another from the North. I do not think it wise to tell you who.”
A dry sob came from your throat. You weren’t crying tears, but you were still vocalizing, much like the women of the tribe would do for the dead.
“I know it hurts.” she repeated. “So give it to me.”
Her hands held your face, and as the first tear slipped down your cheeks, her lips were there to catch it, drinking in the moisture. You only shed a few tears, it was all you dared spare, but what you didn’t expect was for her to give it back. Her lips brushed against yours, delivering a soft bead of saliva onto your tongue. She did this so tenderly, fingers stroking over your cheeks softly.
“You have such a limited idea of what your life could be.” Jessica whispered, repeating her earlier words with a hint of sensuality, with a hint of more care.
She leaned in again, her nose brushing against yours. You looked into her spice stained eyes, tentatively drawing a thumb over the tattoos on her cheeks. She smiled softly, and leaned in all the way, lips slowly dancing over yours. It was the reprieve for the ache in your heart. You were heartbroken over Paul, but over the months spent with Jessica, you’d slowly come to care for her too, and the infant child inside of her. You noted the unusual stillness of Alia, the dormant nature of the child. A hand on Jessica’s abdomen confirmed her sleepy state. If the child had been awake, there would have been a soft pressure on the other side as she touched back. Jessica pulled away, stroking your cheek. Her eyes were clouded over in a glow of satisfaction, and the telltale signs of her scheming lay in the intensity of her gaze.
“Do me a favor.” Jessica murmured. “My milk is coming in… Only a little right now, but it is better that it be extracted and taken into a body immediately.”
“I’ll get the pump and the straw so you can drink what it collects.” you assumed.
Jessica laughed softly, pulling you back into her arms before you could leave.
“No, no dear. If I was going to pump it, I would’ve done so this morning. I wish to share it.”
You balked at this, and Jessica laughed even more, her hands encircling your hot cheeks. 
“Sweetheart, please. It is a gift, and cannot be given to anyone else.”
Jessica gently parted her robes, exposing a swollen breast. Your first instinct was to turn away, but Jessica was quicker, firmly cupping your face, forcing you to meet her eyes.
“No, no. Do not pull away. Accept the gift.”
Jessica’s phrasing of the request was despicably deliberate. The gift of water was a holy, sacred act. A symbol of someone’s devotion to another. Usually it was done via spit, but if it came from the body, sharing it was a devotional act. To deny it was like denying the person, a sign of great disrespect. It was the tender touch of her thumbs over your cheeks that convinced you. A soft kiss was all the reassurance Jessica gave before she pushed you down.
“A soft latch. That’s all that’s required.” Jessica directed.
You nodded, leaning in and wrapping your lips around the stiff, brown nipple. It was warm, growing stiffer immediately between your lips. With a soft, experimental suck, a bead of milk landed on your tongue. Jessica let out a relieved moan, her hands tightening in your hair. Alia stirred slightly, but settled. She was unaware of this exchange.
“Again.” Jessica pleaded.
You’d never heard her use this tone of voice before. It was breathy, needy even. It inspired stirrings in you, made you more eager to please. You moved your lips slowly, imitating the suckling of babies you’d witnessed in the past. It required a bit of tongue and throat movement, but you managed to produce the correct combination, milk landing in steady streams on your tongue. Jessica let out pleasured hums of relief, her hands stroking over your head. It was a small amount of milk, and she went dry quickly.
“Other side now, beloved.” Jessica murmured. “And save a mouthful for me this time.”
The suggestion was odd, and a bit exciting. You were less unsure of yourself this time around, and you were careful to keep a decent amount of milk in your mouth at all times to fulfill her next request. It made the process a bit slower, which Jessica did appreciate. Her fingers could dance over your cheeks as they rhythmically hollowed. She could commit the sight of your lips on her breast to her private memory. You pulled away as she went dry, holding what milk remained in your mouth. A soft tap on your chin directed you upward, and Jessica opened her mouth, awaiting what you had collected. You released the liquid back to her in a steady stream, and she swallowed greedily, but she didn’t stop there. Her lips and tongue collected what was left, her tongue searching every crevice of your mouth for the sweet milk that remained. Her breasts dried in the humid air, and she leisurely swirled her tongue over yours, enjoying the remaining traces of her milk on your tongue. 
“Lovely.” Jessica murmured. “Now I’m nice and empty, and you’re full of my nutrients.”
There was a mildly deranged look in her eyes, and you wondered just how much her ego had swelled now that you’d nursed from her, now that you’d shared her own kiss. Her hands drew you back in, pressing your face to her neck, fingers tracing delicately through your scalp. The smell of her breast milk lingered, a sweetness that complimented her natural odor.
“Oh… The things we will be…”
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raaorqtpbpdy · 1 day
Text
In Memory of Mom
Danny meets a strange, Spanish-speaking ghost wandering around Casper High. His Spanish isn't great, but he's pretty sure she's looking for her daughter.
For the Prompt: Danny encounters a strange spanish-only speaking ghost looking for Paulina Sanchez. Being a first year Spanish student, he only recognizes the words "mi hija" and hesitantly leads her to Paulina. It's Día de los Muertos, but because Paulina has been trying to fit in at school, and her papa remarried and doesn't want to make his new wife uncomfortable, they've fallen out of the habit of setting up the ofrenda and marigolds, leaving their mom/wife unable to find her way home. Paulina can't see or hear her, but Phantom can [From @dreamwraith]
Disclaimer: I am white, and I do not speak Spanish. It is with deepest regret that I must admit to using Google translate for the Spanish dialogue in this fic. If you notice any errors in the Spanish, or regarding Día de Muertos (which there might very well be, though I did do my research), please feel free to correct me. I can only do my best, and always appreciate the opportunity to do better.
Read also on AO3
[Warnings for past character death, and mentions of culture death]
Danny typically liked to have more than one day to recover after fighting Fright Knight every Halloween. Not to mention the numerous other ghosts who always had to come out on that stupid holiday to cause as much trouble as possible during the period of time when the barrier between the human world and the Ghost Zone was at it's thinnest.
Of course, Danny never got more than one day, but he would have liked to.
Luckily the ghost that showed during lunch period on November second didn't seem to be causing any trouble. In fact, it didn't seem like she was powerful enough to cause trouble, even if she wanted to. No one besides Danny even seemed to notice her, which at least meant she wouldn't be able to cause any serious damage, even if she tried.
She was speaking Spanish as she walked through the halls of Casper High, and turning her head this way and that as if she was looking for something, or someone.
"¿La has visto? ¿Mi hija? ¿Dónde está mi hija? ¿La has visto?" she called out.
Now, Danny was only a first year Spanish student, and furthermore... he missed a lot of classes, so he wasn't sure exactly what she was saying, but he did recognize the words 'mi hija', 'my daughter'. The last time he'd been to Spanish class, Señora Gutierrez had been teaching family terms. Madre, padre, hermana, hermano, hija, hijo, tío, abuela, that kind of thing.
Subtly, he followed her until she walked into a hallway where there weren't any people, and then, with no one to look at him like he was crazy for talking to the air, he spoke to her.
"Excuse me, are you looking for your daughter?" Danny asked.
"¡sí mi hija!" the woman replied excitedly. "¿La conoces? ¿La has visto?"
Danny knew 'sí', that was 'yes', the most basic of basic Spanish. 'sí' and... and... okay, so Danny couldn't remember what 'no' was in Spanish, but he remembered 'sí'. Ancients, he was really gonna have to start showing up to that class more if he wanted to get the foreign language credits he needed to graduate.
"Uh... tu hija," Danny said, completely confident that he was already screwing up the grammar, "¿que es la nombre?"
"No es muy fluido en español, ¿verdad?" The ghost laughed. "Su nombre es Paulina."
"Paulina?" Danny didn't understand any of the rest of what she said, so he focused on the last bit. "Paulina Sanchez?"
"¡Sí!" she confirmed, enthusiastically. "Mi hija. Paulina Sánchez. ¿Tu la conoce?"
Danny nodded, although he'd kinda fallen off the sentence after 'sí'. "Why are you looking for her?"
"Es el Dia de Muertos," she said. "Quiero verla, pero no encuentro la ofrenda."
Danny had no idea to respond to that. The only word he recognized from all of that was 'la', but he couldn't glean a whole sentence from a single 'the', so he just looked at her with an expression that was half a forced, awkward smile and half a grimace.
"Ummmm..."
Was it safe to lead an unknown ghost to an unsuspecting human? Objectively no. Most especially not when the unsuspecting human was the girl Danny had a massive crush on. But... on the other hand, this particular ghost seemed pretty harmless, and she said she was Paulina's mother. So... maybe it was okay?
"How about I'll take you to her," Danny suggested.
The ghost that claimed to be Paulina's mother nodded excitedly and said something else in Spanish that Danny had no hope of translating. 
Danny led her to the outdoor table where the A-listers always sat, but Paulina wasn't there. After a little bit of prowling the quad, he found her, at an out of the way table no one ever sat at because the the school custodian always ignored it and it was disgusting. 
Paulina had laid her jacket over the bench to sit on, and unfolded a few paper napkins over the surface of the table. She had a handful of sugar cubes, and was poking one with a toothpick for some reason. She hadn't noticed him yet.
As much as he would have liked to go over to her as Danny Fenton and be the hero who let her talk to her mom again, he figured it would probably be suspicious if people knew he could see ghosts others couldn't. A but reluctantly, he looked around to make sure no one could see and transformed into Danny Phantom. The ghost, Paulina's mom, applauded him, like he'd just done a magic trick. To her, it might have seemed that way.
"Thanks," he said, a little sarcastically, and floated over to talk to Paulina.
"Excuse me, Paulina Sanchez?" Danny asked, as if he wasn't sure whether he knew her name or not. "There's a ghost here who wants to speak to you."
Paulina looked up and looked around, then turned back to Danny and raised a perfect eyebrow. She put down the sugar cube she was poking at, and Danny noticed that on her other side, there were two other sugar cubes sculpted into the shape of a skull.
"You mean you?" she asked. "Look, normally, I'd be thrilled, but today isn't really—"
"Oh, no, not me," Danny said. "She has long hair, wearing a nice knee-length dress.... It's kinda hard to describe ghosts in a way that makes them recognizable to people who knew them in life, 'cause colors tend to be different between life-and-death but uh... you and her have the same nose, actually. She says your her daughter? I don't speak Spanish, but I managed to figure out that much."
When he stopped talking, Pauling gave him a flat look.
"Are you messing with me?"
"No," Danny insisted. "She's not a very powerful ghost, so she can't stay in the visible range, but she's here. She wants to talk to you."
"Mamá?" Paulina asked hesitantly. "¿Estás aquí?"
"Sí, hija mía, estoy aquí," Mrs. Sanchez replied. "Estoy muy feliz de verte de nuevo."
Paulina didn't respond for a long moment, apparently waiting. Then, finally, she said, "I don't hear anything."
"I was worried you might say that," Danny said. "I'm gonna have to speak Spanish if you guys want to talk to each other, aren't I?" he sighed deeply. "Alright fine. Apologies in advance because I am gonna absolutely butcher the pronunciations."
"Hija," Mrs. Sanchez said, "volví a verte, pero no había camino para mí. ¿Por qué?"
Danny repeated the words to the best of his ability.
Paulina took a moment to parse them out, with a puzzled expression before finally saying, "Papá se volvió a casar. Su nueva esposa es gringa, así que no le hicimos un ofrenda en casa para que no se sintiera incómoda."
Danny didn't know what any of that meant, obviously, and was grateful he only had to repeat after Paulina's mom, because Paulina herself spoke Spanish very quickly and there was absolutely no way he wouldn't trip over his tongue mimicking her. 
"Pero estoy aquí, debe haber una ofrenda."
Danny mimicked her again.
Paulina looked a little embarrassed. "Sí... yo... hice uno en mi casillero para ti. No quería que no pudieras cruzar."
Her mother gasped. Danny really wished he knew what was going on.
"¿Me mostrarás?"
Paulina's expression lit up when Danny repeated that, and she stood, gathering up her jacket and her sugar cubes.
"Vamos," she said. "I mean, follow me."
She led the way through the empty halls and Danny and her mom followed.
"What were you guys talking about?" Danny asked, then immediately realized what he was asking and quickly backtracked. "I mean, never mind, it's probably personal. I was just curious. You don't have to answer that."
"No, it's okay," Paulina said. "See, my mom passed when I was seven, and every year, me and my dad set up an ofrenda for Day of the Dead with her picture so she could visit us. We moved here from Mexico when I was ten, but we kept up the tradition. 
"Last winter, though, Dad married my step-mom, and she's white, and doesn't know anything about Mexican traditions or holidays. Dad doesn't want to make her uncomfortable, so ever since they got married, we stopped celebrating most of what we used to back in Mexico, so we didn't put up an ofrenda this year, and Mom was asking why she couldn't find it, so I explained."
"Oh... that's... kinda sad," Danny said. "You just had to give up all your culture because your dad remarried?"
Paulina shrugged. "We had to give up a lot of it already, when we moved to America anyway," she said, as if that made it less sad and not more. "At least Sandra's nice, she's just... a little out of her depth sometimes."
"So... where are you taking us?"
Finally, she stopped in front of her locker and turned the dial with her combination.
"I didn't want mom to not be able to visit me, so... I sort of made my own ofrenda in my locker," Paulina explained sheepishly.
The door swung open to reveal the inside. There was a small magnetic shelf stuck on the back of the locker. On it, there was a small electric candle, some kind of orange flower, a pair of black lace gloves, and a heart-shaped locket. The locket was open and propped up so the picture inside was visible. It was the ghost Danny was trying to help.
Paulina reached in an put a few of the sculpted sugar cubes on the shelf next to the locket. The tiny sugar skulls were perfectly to scale with the tiny picture, but absolutely dwarfed by the flower.
The ghost put her hands to her heart and looked absolutely touched by the tiny display.
"Those were her favorite gloves," Paulina explained. "She always wore them when Dad took her dancing."
"What's the flower?" Danny asked.
"It's a marigold," she replied. "Cempasúchil, in Spanish. They're a traditional decoration for the ofrenda. You're also supposed to leave a trail of their petals from the grave to the ofrenda, but... Mom's grave is in Mexico, and the ofrenda is in my locker so...." 
"Ay, esto es hermoso," the ghost said. "Gracias. Amo mucho esto. Te quiero mi hija."
Danny had been to distracted to properly listen, so he wasn't sure how to repeat her words.
"Uh... she says she likes it."
The ghost gave him a look and a light slap that passed right through him.
"A lot, she likes it a lot."
"¡Y te amo!" she added insistently.
"Y te amo, she says," Danny repeated.
"Thank you, Phantom," Paulina said. She leaned forward and gave him a kiss on the cheek. "This means a lot to me."
Danny knew his cheeks were turning bright green, and he cleared his throat awkwardly to make sure his voice wouldn't crack.
"Uh, yeah, no problem," he said. "Don't mention it."
It was then that the bell rang signalling the end of lunch, and Paulina grabbed a couple of books from her locker and headed to class. Her mom followed, even though Paulina couldn't see her.
Danny had to get to class, too. He had Spanish class after lunch, and Ancients knew he didn't need to be missing any more of those.
In class, Señora Gutierrez talked about Dia de los Muertos, and for once, Danny actually sort of knew what she was talking about, thanks to Paulina. Maybe he should ask her to tutor him.
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