#it's horrible and bad and terrible CEASE

[nakahras]

᯽ mr. loverman • chuuya nakahara

synopsis • you have a terrible, horrible, no good very bad day and to top it off you can’t even go to the one person you’d want to since he’s out of town. or, at least, you thought so.

warnings • intentional lower case, reader has a nightmare of a roommate, cursing, the use of the pet names doll/baby, chuuya being the gossip he is, fem!reader, nsfw, oral (m -> f), nipple/breast play, some nasty shit is said, masturbation (m), fingering, teasing, slight overstim, idk this is some depraved shit honestly

wc • 4k

a/n • i started this when i was having the worst day ever and just wanted boyfriend chuuya :( i cannot be blamed for the smut idk who wrote that but it wasn’t me

you want to scream — to be more accurate you want to off someone, yourself or someone else, either would suffice. unfortunately you stick to screaming, it would cause you less issues. you lift one of the many pillows on your bed and promptly screech your throat raw into the expensive pillow. your head feels as though it’s going to explode just thinking about how your day has gone.

you thought february 29th was supposed to be a lucky day? an extra day in a leap year meant luck, didn’t it? well in your case it didn’t feel very lucky. not at all, actually. in fact you were sure today was a curse. you woke up late, so, your day was off to a bad start from the beginning. your roommate forgot to pay the electricity bill, again, so you had to take a cold shower and couldn’t even make coffee. you stopped at your favorite coffee shop and not only did they get your order wrong but someone bumped into you on your rush to the train station. there was coffee everywhere. every. where.

thanks to the coffee spill you missed your morning train. which normally wouldn’t be a huge deal, except for the fact that you had an early staff meeting. you try to text your coworker that you were running behind but because your roommate forgot to put the payment in for electricity, your phone didn’t charge and died. you don’t even get your message out. you wanted to cry. luckily the train was early and you made it to work just in time.

you thought maybe you had seen the worst of it. your karma surely couldn’t be that bad, right?

wrong.

you work as a nurse in cardiology. you had not one, not two, but three people code on you. it always came in threes. three emergency services calls. three rounds of performing cpr. three separate incident reports to type out. you were exhausted by the end of the day.

you almost cried again when your favorite coworker offers you a ride home. he was a saint in disguise and you told him so. a literal gift from heaven. you promise him a homemade lunch in return and he waves you off as you climb out of the car. when you get to your apartment you’re pleasantly surprised to see your roommate cleaning. a rare occasion.

the electricity is back on too so you take the opportunity to enjoy a relaxing bath and some wine. you thought, once again, maybe the worst was over.

wrong. again.

when you got out of the bathroom you thought you vaguely heard chatter but chalked it up to a show your roommate was probably watching. you change into a t-shirt, skipping a bra because it’s just you and your roommate at home, and a pair of sleeping shorts that barely cover anything. when you walk out with your headphones on you’re stunned to see 3 strangers in your home.

your roommate looks at you like you’re the crazy one. like she isn’t the one that didn’t warn you about the company. you double check then triple check your phone. nope, not a single text for warning. you awkwardly wave and consider digging a hole and living in it when she introduces one of the strangers as her new boyfriend. in that moment you want to perish, cease from existing altogether.

you don’t even get a chance to grab your food before you’re making a half assed excuse to step away and run back to your room.

you’re now laying on your bed, letting tears of frustration stream down your face. you can’t even call the one person who would make it all better. your boyfriend was away for a business trip. you didn’t want to accidentally interrupt something important. you knew he would drop everything

your boyfriend also has this freaky 6th sense, like he can always tell when you’re thinking of him. so, you’re not surprised when your phone begins to ring and you’re met with his contact photo. you let out a sigh and pick up.

“chuuya…” you breathe out. you sound terrible, you know you do, but you can’t bring yourself to even care to mask it.

you can hear vague rustling in the background before chuuya is speaking. “you don’t sound okay. what’s wrong?”

you start crying again. how does he do that? he always seems to know when you need him most. right now was definitely one of those times. you wish he could actually be there. you missed his warm and safe embrace.

“i’m not. i had a really shitty day and i feel so ridiculous about how much it’s getting to me…” you let out a humorless laugh at how pathetic you feel saying that out loud. you’re throwing a fit over a bad day. who does that?

and all you wanted was for chuuya to be here. but you couldn’t tell him that, if you did he would dismiss everything and come running. then you would feel bad about coming between him and his work. you let out a frustrated sigh.

you can practically hear the frown on chuuya’s face when he speaks. “you wanna tell me ‘bout it? i’ll listen. or is there something else i can do to make you feel better?”

you don’t deserve him. you think to yourself.

moments like this make you really think about how chuuya deserves way more than what you can give him. you go days at a time without talking to him because of school and work. you lock yourself in your room and ignore the world outside just to keep up with your school work. you know it’s unfair to chuuya even if you always do give him a warning. he is always incredibly understanding over it that you almost cry out of guilt. he even brings you meals and hydration packs to make sure you’re taking care of yourself.

things like this remind you just how selfish you can be when it comes to him. all you want is him. but are you allowed to even feel like that when he’s away for work — a good reason by the way, much better than your own. he never complains when you need space so why would you? to you the answer is simple, you won’t complain.

of course, chuuya sees it differently. he knows that if you didn’t have to cut everyone off to focus on your work you wouldn’t. but your mind doesn’t work like that and he gets it. does he miss you when you have to take a break from reality? absolutely, but he doesn’t complain because he already knows how bad you feel about it.

so instead of saying ‘yes, i need you’ like you want to you let out another sigh. “how much work do you have left today?”

”funny you ask me that, doll. i finished everything early today.” chuuya chuckles when he can practically see the way you perk up.

you still hesitate when you ask, “does that mean you're coming back to yokohama early?”

the port mafia executive smiles widely at just how adorable he finds you. the way you still get so shy to ask him things that should be a given. chuuya adores you and couldn’t imagine spending his now free time with anyone other than you. so, of course he took the opportunity to get back as soon as possible. apparently his timing was impeccable because from the sound of it, you could use a break.

chuuya was already on his way to your apartment. it was supposed to be a surprise, but he figures since he’s already almost there…

“why don’t you pack a bag and come down to find out for yourself, hm?” he lets out another chuckle when your excited squeal finds it’s way onto his side of the phone.

you quickly grab your small duffle and stuff some essentials into it. you have a drawer at chuuyas jam packed with clothing already and a whole second set of your favorite hygiene products so you only need to grab a few things. you pack your laptop and a couple articles of your comfier clothing. you change quickly, stuffing your legs into some jeans and actually putting on a bra underneath your t-shirt.

you grab your phone where chuuya is still on the line. “okay, all packed. should i come down now?”

“yeah, your surprise should be there any minute.” chuuya pulls up to the front of your building as he says those words and can’t help the pleased smile on his face.

you chuckle and shake your head. “my surprise, huh wonder what it could-“ you’re cut off when your roommate calls out your name questioningly in your rush to get out of the door. your eye twitches when you’re reminded of the randoms in your apartment but put on a smile anyways. “it was so nice meeting you guys, sorry i can’t stay but my boyfriend came back into town early so i’m gonna go see him. bye.”

you don’t miss the way your roommate perks up at the mention of chuuya. “oh? chuuya is here? you should invite him up. i would love to see him.

“i’m sure you would. he’s tired though. maybe some other time.” you grit your teeth and smile sweetly. you don’t wait for a response as you practically run out the door and lock it behind you.

you huff and then remember chuuya is on the other side of the phone still, you grimace realizing he heard the whole thing. “sorry…”

“didn’t know i was so tired.” chuuya laughs as you let out a groan.

you catch the elevator before the doors close from someone just getting out and stab at the button to the ground floor. “i’m tired of their shit, therefore, you’re tired too. plus did you really wanna sit through another awkward meal where my roommate dotes on you. god and her new boyfriend was there. can you imagine how uncomfortable that would be? gross. i don’t wanna think about it anymore.”

“someone’s actually insane enough to agree to date her? condolences to whoever that guy is.” chuuya’s voice drips with genuine surprise.

you let out a giggle at how scandalized your boyfriend sounds. “you’re telling me she doesn’t pique your interest, sunshine?”

he chuckles and you can practically hear the eye roll from his end of the line. “nah, my girl is the only one for me.”

you’re walking out of the elevator when you stop in your tracks for a moment. it doesn’t matter how long you’ve been with him, when chuuya calls you his girl it makes you melt. your brain malfunctions a little and it makes you really think about how you truly are all his.

without hesitation you breathe out an “i love you.” before moving forward to the entrance of your building.

“i love you.” it’s instantaneous, his answer.

chuuya never has to think twice about telling you how much he adores you. he is immutably in love with you. there was no doubt in his mind and, even though it took some time for you to believe so, there was no longer a single doubt in your mind either. chuuya had made certain that you would never question it.

you make it to the entrance. the moment you open the door you’re welcomed with the sight of chuuya leaning against his car. his phone is still up to his ear as his grin widens upon seeing you.

you drop your hand and phone from your ear and hang up before rushing over to the ginger. you drop your duffle bag near the car before jumping into the executive's arms. he was anticipating the impact and caught you with ease.

the bicolor eyed man holds you tightly and you bury your face in his neck. his soft hair tickles your face but you couldn’t care less. you take in a deep breath and his scent envelopes you and all the tension your body had been previously holding completely dissipates.

your voice is muffled when you say, “i missed you, so much.”

“i missed you too.”

you both stand there in each other’s arms for a few more seconds before chuuya sets you down. he grabs your bag from the ground and opens the passenger door for you. you thank him and climb in. your boyfriend wastes no time placing your bag on the backseat and slipping into the drivers side.

the ginger takes you to your favorite take out restaurant and you order all of your favorites. when you get back to his penthouse you set up his couch into a lounge bed and get ready to watch one of your favorite movies. while you’re doing that, chuuya is pouring you both a glass of wine.

you’re happily munching on your food and sipping on your wine when chuuya hits you with. “you should move in.”

your head snaps back to look up at him, your brow is furrowed and you give him a confused look. “we haven’t talked about it before. are you being serious right now?”

“completely.” he doesn’t even look at you, his tone so nonchalant and you’re just gaping at him.

you set your drink and food aside and shift off of chuuya. he’s about to complain until you sit yourself on his lap straddling his waist and wrapping your arms around his shoulders. you pluck the remote from his hand and turn over your shoulder to pause the movie. you wanted to make sure you had his undivided attention (you always did).

you study him for a moment before responding. “are you sure?”

“yes. i have 2 extra rooms that aren’t being used. we don’t have to share a bedroom yet and you would still have a separate office space. c’mon, doll, let me get you out of that nightmare of an apartment.” chuuya reaches up and tucks a stray hair behind your ear.

he did that on purpose. you know he did. the way he caresses your face with his always surprisingly soft fingers is unfair. he knows how distracting it is to you.

you try to process what he says but it takes you quite a bit longer than it should have but it doesn’t take you long to make your decision. “…okay.” it comes out whispered.

“okay?” chuuya asks you incredulously like he was actually expecting you to reject his offer.

you nod your head with a blush creeping up your face. “yes, okay. i’ll move in with you.

chuuya can’t help himself and presses his hands across your back to bring you into him. his lips crash into yours and you share a moment of pure bliss. his lips meld perfectly with yours. he tastes of peppermint and grapes. the taste increases as his tongue slips past your lips and tangles with your own. you let out a short gasp at the sudden intrusion but melt into him anyways.

you both stay like that for a few minutes. your hips begin to stutter on their own. your breaths and gasps and quiet moans fill the atmosphere. chuuya’s hands have found their way under your shirt and he’s already playing with the band of your bra. his fingers expertly undo the clasps and hands glide across your now naked back.

your lungs scream at you. you want more of him but you have to oblige your body’s need for air. you part from his lips and rest your forehead on his own, breath mixing together as you both pant for air.

chuuya only gives you a moment, hips still moving into his when he grabs at your hair and gently pulls your head back so he can trail kisses down your neck. it takes all of his self control to not bite your soft skin. per your request, he’s always careful not to leave marks on areas that would be visible in your scrubs. this is the one instance where his need to please you outweighs his need to be possessive.

if chuuya had it his way, he would make everyone aware of just how much you are his. for your sake, though, he reigns in that side of himself. he supposes he’ll just have to show the world you’re his in different ways. like in the form of a key, and in the form of a ring he has stashed away in the far corners of his closet, and maybe even some day in the form of his child.

chuuya’s brought back to reality by the sound of your voice. he hadn’t even realized that your positions had switched. you were panting underneath him, face flushed, and — fuck — you look so gorgeous like this. you were always beautiful. but having you like this, something only he got to see always made something primal in him stir.

you huff and grab ahold of the ginger’s face. his mind was obviously elsewhere. “chuuya. listen to me. what are you doing?”

chuuya’s eyes, which had glazed over, somewhat clear from the fog. he smiles at you as he lowers himself further down your body and lifts your shirt to press kisses to your stomach. you let out a whine, ready to complain about him still not listening.

“relax, baby, i’m helping you relieve some stress.” chuuya draws soothing circles into your skin then, without waiting for your response his hands travel to your pajama pants to untie them.

your hand shoots out to stop him, still panting and slightly dazed. “what about you?”

“don’t worry about me. i can take care of myself while i take care of you.” he says it so unabashedly you can’t bring yourself to question him.

then your head starts spinning. the thought of him touching himself while taking care of you is so incredibly hot it ignites your entire body on fire. there’s no longer a single thought in your head that doesn’t involve chuuya’s mouth, his lips, his tongue, his hands, his fingers. you need it all.

you reach out and card your fingers through the gravity manipulator’s silky hair. he hums at the action and takes it as his sign to continue. his fingers work quickly, undoing the ribbon and hooking around both the elastic of the pants and your panties. his movements are so fluid and fast you can hardly keep up. your bottom half is completely bare but he’s not satisfied there.

his hand slides up underneath your shirt and through the valley of your breasts. he watches intently as your shirt slowly rides up to expose your breasts. his fingers ghost over each mound briefly before they’re sliding down your body again and gripping at your thighs, holding them open.

“so damn pretty.” chuuya hums and his eyes flit up to gaze up at your flushed face. “do me a favor, baby? play with those perfect tits of yours for me, won’t you?”

his voice is sickly sweet and smooth like honey. you’re so enamored by the sound that you almost don’t hear him. his expectant look is what starts up the wheels in your head to turn. his words process and your hands move on their own accord. you start kneading at your chest while maintaining eye contact with his bicolored eyes.

chuuya groans. “god, doll. look at you. playin’ with yourself like that. ‘s sexy as hell- you’re sexy as hell.”

“chuuya…” you let out a whine. your patience thinning by the second as you wiggle your ass for any chance at friction.

your boyfriend lets out a chuckle. “okay, okay. think i’ve made you wait long enough, hm? deserve a reward for all the hell you were put through today.”

chuuya, once again, doesn’t give you a chance to answer before he’s dipping his head down to get face to face with your already slick cunt. his tongue is quick as he runs it up and down your folds. you feel him sigh in relief against you, like this is the first meal he’s had in days. it might as well be with how much he craved you when he was away.

although, he was focused on you — focused on making this all about you — chuuya knows if he doesn’t make good on his word of relieving himself you’ll never let him hear the end of it. who is he to deny himself the added pleasure when you’re demanding it of him. so, chuuya lets go of one of your thighs to fumble with his belt and free his strained cock from its confines.

you vaguely watch his arm move. your attention wavering as his lips wrap around your clit and he sucks. your back arches and hands squeeze at your breasts in surprise as you moan out his name.

chuuya smirks, absolutely pleased by the reactions he elicits from you. his hand that freed his cock moves to collect some of the wetness that’s steadily dripping out of you. once he’s satisfied with the amount he lowers his hand and uses your slick as lube to touch himself.

you try to comment on it but your mouth isn’t working right. the only thing that comes out is, “chuuya~ so good. ‘s so- fuck- so good…”

chuuya groans, clearly enjoying this as much as you are. his hips start to stutter as he lets go of your other thigh to gather more of your juices in that hand. his mouth it still making expert work of your clit while his fingers are closing in on your entrance. he teases you a little, circling the hole a few times before slowly pushing in two of his lithe fingers.

your head is thrown back as a slew of cursed moans falls from your lips. this time chuuya lets out a moan of his own when he feels your walls fluttering around his fingers already. his hand being used on himself starts pumping faster, his cheeks hollowing more frequently and fingers start sliding in and out of you at an alarming rate.

he’s close, you realize. he’s close and wants you to cum before him. you aid him in his endeavor by rolling your nipples between your fingers then squeezing slightly to pinch them. the added sensation makes your whole body twitch.

“f-fuck, fuck, fuck. chuuya, gonna cum~ ‘s too much. gonna-“ a euphoric wave crashes over you and you let out an embarrassing squeal like moan as your vision spots and ears rings.

chuuya’s slurps while lapping up at your orgasm are insanely lewd and the noise alone is enough to send him crashing as well. what really does him in is the sight before him. your eyes rolling back into your head and mouth hanging open. he moans deeply, from his chest, and spills into his hand. he pumps himself a few more times until he’s twitching from the overstimulation.

chuuya laps up every last drop your cunt has to offer while you come down from that amazing high and catch your breath. when he’s happy with his clean up he rests his cheek on your thigh. you prop yourself up to look at him. he looks so angelic, hair slightly tousled from your fingers running through it earlier, face glistening from your juices and face flushed. chuuya smiles at you then turns his head to leave sweet kisses on your inner thigh.

you let your head hang back before groaning. he was going to be the death of you. you knew he wasn’t finished with you by a long shot.

“we have plenty of time to do this when i move in.” you whine.

chuuya lets out an elated laugh. “so, when are we moving you in? tomorrow?”

you let out a genuinely amused laugh, shaking your head at his eagerness.

#chuuya x reader #chuuya smut #bsd x reader #bsd smut #bungo stray dogs x reader #chuuya x you #bsd x you #bungo stray dogs x you #chuuya x fem!reader #bsd x fem!reader #bungo stray dogs x fem!reader #bsd chuuya #᯽. banners/dividers made by @/cafekitsune #᯽. éli originals

[moonlight-hwa]

8:30pm ~ C. S

Synopsis: After a long and terrible day, you come home to your loving boyfriend, who is ready to comfort you no matter what.

Pairing: bf!san x fem!reader

Genre: established relationship, hurt/comfort, fluff, a little angsty

Warnings: mentions of sucky a boss, mc is on her period (I might be projecting)

Word count: 1,372 (it turned out to be way longer than I anticipated)

A/N: ummmm…so this turned out to be very self indulgent. Anyway, something to read while I work on the Wonwoo one shot.

Your day had been going absolutely horrible. First, it had all started with most terrible cramps you’ve ever had…and the painkillers you took did absolutely nothing to ease the pain, at that you felt like climbing back in bed and crying yourself back to sleep because it hurt so bad; but you couldn’t do that, you had work to get to…and that is where the second fact comes in.

     You work at a small little publishing company, with no more than 30 other people working there, its small and quaint and that’s what you like about it…but you absolutely hate your boss, he just simply sucks. Ever since you started working there, he had labeled you his assistant (even though that was not your position and never has been your position) and handed off all the work he was supposed to do to you. So, he expected you to do your actual job, plus all his work and he didn’t care if that lead you to stay late or get burned out quickly, he just wanted some one that would do his work for him.

      And the third and final thing that happened, just sent you over the edge completely, was you spilling coffee all over your desk and all over papers you had to give back to your boss. After cleaning up you had to hide out in the restroom and try to collect yourself…you refused to cry at work. So, with glossy eyes you finally left the restroom and went back to work, while always on the verge of a breakdown.

       And once you had finally made it back to you and your boyfriend’s shared apartment and shut the door behind you, that was when the floodgates opened and tears began flowing down your face; your hand moved to cover your mouth, trying desperately to make sure your sobs were quiet. You hated when you cried like this, it made you feel so hopeless and weak…the smallest of things making you cry, made you feel stupid for crying over such things.

       “Baby?” A soft voice spoke, causing your soft sobs to cease completely and your eyes to open, gaze locking with your boyfriend’s. A worried expression was painted on his features as he took careful steps toward you “What happened, darling? Why are you crying?” San asked softly as gentle hands went up to either side of your face, thumbs catching tears that continued to trail down your cheeks. You shake your repeatedly, breathing in sharply “Its-Its just so stupid.” You said through broken cries. “No, no its not stupid…it’s never stupid to cry, you have every right to cry over things…no matter how small they are, okay?” He tells you and you nod in response.

     San gives you a small smile “Now…can you tell me what’s making you cry, so I can make it better.” He says and you remain silent as you gnawed on your bottom lips, gaze staying locked with San’s comforting one. You knew you should tell him about your terrible day…you knew it would make you feel better after doing so, but you honestly didn’t want to talk about it in that moment…you just wanted to be in San’s arms and completely forget about the events of today.

    You shake your head as your vison blurs with more tears. “You don’t want to talk about it?” He confirms and you nod in response, a few tears leaving your eyes. San nods in confirmation “Okay…we don’t have to talk about, I won’t push you for anything.” He says, before pulling you into the comfort of his embrace. Even more tears fall your eyes as you burry your face in the crook of his neck, San rubs a soothing hand on your back before pressing his lips to crown of your head.

      “Do you need anything?” He asked softly, after a few moments of silence. You breathe in a shudder breath “Can you just hold me.” You simply say, tightening your hold around San’s waist and he nods “Okay, I can do that…do you want to go lay in bed?” You simply nod, muttering a soft ‘please’. And without another word San’s arms move, to where his hands were on the back of your thighs, while your arms wrapped around his neck before he lifted you up effortlessly and carried you to your shared bedroom.

       “Need anything else, baby?” San spoke once more as gently set you on your side of the bed and just as he asked that the familiar stabbing pain of cramps began again. You wince slightly “Heating pad.” You simply say and the smallest of frowns forms on his lips, immediately understanding what that meant. “Okay, I’ll go get that for you, darling.” He said with a small smile, as he stood up from his crouched position and placed a peck to your forehead, before stepping over to the closet, in search of the heating pad.

     While waiting for San to come back with the heating pad, you absently stare up at the ceiling, replaying the demanding words of your boss. You chew at the inside of your cheek, beginning to feel anxiety fill the pit of your stomach as you thought about all the things you had to get done for work; you’re so lost in your thoughts, you don’t register San calling for you and you only do so when you feel him grab your hand. Your head turns toward him and a smile forms on his lips “There she is…now tell me what has you zoned out so hard.” He says as turns on the heating pad and places it on your lower abdomen.

       “I just…I’m just feeling really anxious and stressed out.” You answer truthfully and San nods slowly “About work?” He asked in confirmation, and you nod in response “Do you want to talk about it?” He gently asked as his thumb moved across your knuckles. Your tears have long since stopped, the only thing remaining is the low pulsing of headache forming and you’ve clamed down enough to where you can talk, without bursting into another fit of tears…so in the end you nod in response. San smiles, dimples making an appearance “Okay…I’m all ears, darling.” He says.

     You breathe out a soft sigh, before finally speaking “Well…you know how Mr. Ju is,” You begin and San nods in understanding, knowing exactly how he is from the number of times you’ve talked about him. “He’s just so unbearable, lazy, annoying and he makes me hate my job…but I love my job, I love what do and I don’t want to quit because of him. But god, he makes consider it every time I come home late and exhausted.” You say, feeling frustration bubble up inside you. “Oh, and then today, on top of me starting my period and Mr. Ju being his usual self toward me…I spill coffee all over my desk…soaking every single paper in coffee. I had to go hide out in bathroom, because I almost started crying.” A frown had tugged downward on the corners of San’s lips as he listened to your words.

    You breathe out a frustrated sigh, hands covering your face “I just have so many things to do and not enough time to do them.” You say, before incoherently rambling about how you needed to redo all the things that got soaked in coffee and already existing work on top of that. “Darling.” San spoke trying to get your attention, but it proved to be fruitless…so he repeated himself, only a bit louder this time and at that he gained your undivided attention.

    “You’re at home baby…you shouldn’t be stressing so much about work while at home, you should be relaxing and enjoying your time here.” He says and you feel the stresses and the anxieties of the day begin to dissipate. “So…lets just focus on the fact that it’s just you and me, everything will be okay and if doesn’t end up being okay…then I will always be here when ever you need comfort. Okay?” You nod in response.

And in that moment you knew everything would be okay, because you had San right beside you when it wouldn’t be.

#kpop #ateez #san x reader #ateez imagines #san imagines #kpop imagines #san fluff #san angst #ateez fluff #ateez angst

[adamsvanrhijn]

BLAKE RITSON as OSCAR VAN RHIJN

2.07 ▹ Wonders Never Cease Oscar and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day

THE GILDED AGE (2022–)

#the gilded age spoilers #the gilded age tag #oscar van rhijn tag #the gilded age #thegildedageedit #oscar van rhijn #blake ritson #perioddramagif #perioddramaedit #tvedit #gifshistorical #perioddramasource #weloveperioddrama #onlyperioddramas #userrobin #usercats #usertina #my gifs tag

[writtenfangirl]

Secrets and Good Luck Charms

Plus size!Reader, angsty turning fluffy

Listen, as a plus size woman myself, I know that the chances of an F1 driver being attracted to me is close to 0, especially when they're literally always surrounded by supermodels. But I can live in my delulu era, even for a little while.

I challenged myself to create a fic with top-tier begging and I genuinely hope I accomplished that cause this was so much fun to write.

Enjoy!

Part 2

“Charles, I think we should break up.”

The words left her in a sudden whoosh, ceasing her boyfriend mid-story. His apartment went quiet, and Y/N felt the little hairs on her arms rise but her goosebumps wasn’t from the cold. 

Charles’s luminous green eyes widened.“What?”

A part of her wished she could take the words back, snatch them from the air where they hung heavy like smoke. But she’d been building up her courage all week and she wasn’t about to back down now just because he flashed those beautiful green eyes that Charles knew she could never resist. She said the words slower, kinder. “I think we should break up.”

He looked at her as if he couldn’t believe the words he was hearing. “Why?”

“Because you’re ashamed of me, Cha.”

And there was the truth, the conviction that had Y/N’s resolve strengthening. Charles could deny it all he wants but Y/N knew the truth, deep down. He was ashamed of her. It was a truth that had been sitting in her chest for the better part of 9 months and it was a truth that had begun to eat at her as their relationship progressed. 

He said his next words slowly, like a child struggling to learn new words in a language he wasn’t familiar with. “What would make you say that?” 

She kept her own tone even, betraying none of the hurt that sat heavy in her chest. “Because, Cha. We’ve been together 9 months, close to a year, and yet you have never introduced me to your mother or your brothers. Not even to your friends. No posts on social media, no mention of my existence at all.”

He frowned. “I thought you wanted your privacy.”

“I do want my privacy.”

“Then I don’t understand why you want to end things!” His voice grew in octave and Y/N could see him fighting to keep his calm.

“Because, Cha,” she said, struggling to keep the exasperation from her voice, “you’re ashamed of me. I don’t care that you post me on social media or not. I don’t care if the world knows about us. If you want to keep our relationship out of the public eye, that’s fine. I know you’re doing it to protect my feelings and I appreciate it, I do. But, you refuse to let me meet your friends or your family for that matter. They’re the people that matter to me because they’re the people that matter to you. But I’ve never met them, even after you’ve met mine! And I’m—“ she took a deep, shuddering breath, fighting the hurt that threatened to have tears spilling from her eyes. “I’ve dated enough guys to know when they’re ashamed of me.”

“I am not—“

“Don’t deny it, Cha, please. It hurts even more if you do.”

His mouth snapped shut. There was confusion in his face, and maybe a bit of hurt, but Y/N saw the truth in them too. The shame that coated his eyes like paint.

“I know I’m not conventionally beautiful like your exes.” Y/N said, her words soft. “They’re thin and slender and they’re beautiful. They really are. Models and influencers that I could never compete with and I’m okay with that because you were okay with that. But I see now that you’re not. You don’t like that I’m big, that I have a stomach and huge thighs. You don’t like that I have stretch marks and rolls. And you know what, it’s fine. If you prefer thinner girls, it’s fine. I won’t hold it against you because I know some people just have preferences and it’s okay. But I refuse to ever change myself and hate myself just to fit into a person’s standards. I’ve spent so much of my life being ashamed of my body, I can’t do that anymore, Cha. I love you and you are literally the man of my dreams but I love myself too, and I love myself too much to let someone do this to me.”

“You can’t just leave me. I love you.” Charles rushed the words out as if somehow, his words would stop Y/N.

“I don’t doubt your love for me, Cha. Not one moment. I know you love me. But you don’t take me on dates in public places where people can see us. When we do go out in public, you keep a physical distance between us. You never even so much as look at me unless you have to. I’ve never met a single one of your friends, work related or not. I don’t think you’ve even mentioned to them that you were with someone. Never met Arthur or Lorenzo and I’ve definitely never met Pascale. You love me in secret and that’s not okay.”

He reached for her hand but Y/N pulled away. The hurt that flashed in his eyes made her want to tell him to forget about her confession, forget about what she said so they can return to normal but Y/N knew she couldn’t do that. She owed it to herself to do what was best for her, to love a man who loved her so much he had to shout it from the rooftops. 

“Y/N, please—“

“It’s okay, Charles.” She stood up from where she sat, pushing down her own feelings as Charles looked up at her, disbelief in his eyes. “You don’t have to explain yourself to me. Really, no hard feelings. Let’s just forget that this, us, ever happened. I wish you good luck with everything, I really do. I’ll pray to every God that exists that you become a world champion with Ferrari. I’ll always root for you.” 

“Y/N, wait—“

But she fled the apartment before he could say anymore.

And Charles Leclerc is out of the 2023 Belgian Grand Prix! I have to say, Crofty. Leclerc’s string of bad luck and terrible performance has really been a blow to Ferrari’s morale as of late. It really is such a horrible way to end the first half of the season, especially after such an incredible six months! It truly is such a shame. With the way things are going, what was once a tight race for the championship between Verstappen and Leclerc could simply become Verstappen’s third world championship.  Let’s hope the summer break gives him the clarity of mind he needs to get his head back in the game and the championship race back on track. 

Charles wasn’t stupid. He knew why he was losing and it wasn’t his car or his team or their strategies.

His abysmal performance could only be blamed on one person and try as he might, he couldn’t bring himself to blame Y/N. 

Because really, the only person to be blamed was himself. 

Because she was right. 

And he hated that she was right. 

He never thought he was the kind of person who was vain or who particularly cared about the opinions of others. He knew what it was like to be scrutinized by the media and while he justified keeping his relationship with her private by believing that Y/N was a private person, he couldn’t justify hiding her from his friends and family. 

It didn’t even really matter to him what she looked like. He loved Y/N, not for her body but for her soul. He was the moth attracted to her bright flame and he would have gladly let himself burn if it meant feeling the heat of her touch on his skin. She was kindness and warmth and compassion all rolled into one person, the kind of person people wished God made more of. 

And he found her beautiful. Yes, she wasn’t thin but he never cared about that before. Y/N was beautiful in his eyes. The kind of beauty meant to be admired in paintings. Her soft, curvaceous body and her sweet face made her beautiful. She may not have fit society’s standards but she fit his and that’s all that mattered. That’s all that should have mattered. 

So why did her words, her accusations, cut him so deep?

Was she right? Was he ashamed of her? 

“Mate, you okay?” 

Carlos’s voice broke him out of his reverie. It wasn’t like Charles to get distracted from the matter at hand, but his mind kept wandering to his girlfriend. Or rather, ex-girlfriend.

“You’ve been distracted.” Max noted. 

It was the summer break, a rare time in their hectic lives when they got a chance to take a breather. One of the drivers, Charles couldn’t remember who but he suspected it was George, had arranged a little get together for them. Alone time on a remote island in the tropics far from the prying eyes of their fans and the media. Not all of the drivers could make it, but those that could brought their girlfriends with them. The irony wasn’t lost on Charles that he was the only single man in an island full of couples. 

It was the kind of outing he would have wanted to include Y/N in but wouldn’t have, choosing instead to stay at home so they could spend some time alone. It never occurred to him if Y/N would have wanted to come. 

“I’m fine,” was his only brusque reply. 

“You don’t seem fine.” Pierre chimed in. 

Charles tried not to scowl. The other drivers were his friends as much as they were his co-workers and competitors. He grew up racing and competing with most of them. Max, George, Alex, Lando and especially Pierre, were constant figures in his life. If there was anyone who could help him, who could understand him, it would be them.

But it was so hard to accept the help when Charles was so… down. 

He looked at his friends, saw the expectant looks on their faces and sighed. 

“My girlfriend broke up with me.” The words left him before he had a chance to think about it. 

His friends’ expectant expressions turned into surprise before shifting to mild curiosity. 

“I didn’t know you had a girlfriend.” Pierre’s frown could only be described as hurt. Not that Charles could blame him. Pierre was his best friend and the first person who supported him when it came to his relationships. The fact that Charles kept his girlfriend a secret probably hurt him more than he let on.

“No one knew,” Charles said reassuringly. “Not my brothers and not maman.”

“So you were only together for a short while,” Carlos guessed. “What’s the big deal?”

Charles couldn’t blame Carlos for assuming that Y/N was only in his life for a while since he never told them she existed but the insinuation hurt all the same.

“We were together close to a year. 9 months actually.”

“That long?” Alex asked, surprised. “Usually you introduce your girlfriends after two months. You kept her a secret for nine months?”

Charles winced. What sort of excuse did he have for keeping her a secret? No flimsy excuse could ever justify what he did. 

“Why did she end things?” Max asked him. 

Dread pooled in Charles’ stomach. What does he even say? He looked at his friends, at their earnest and open expressions. He knew no matter what he says, they won’t judge him. Or at least, not to his face. 

“She ended things because she thinks I’m ashamed of her.“ Charles’ admission tasted like metal in his tongue. 

“Why would you be ashamed of her?” George asked, raising a quizzical brow.

“Because she’s nothing like my exes. She’s not thin or slender, she’s full bodied. I’ve never introduced her to any of you, not even to my family. She thinks I’m embarrassed to be seen next to her.”

“Are you?” Lando asked, judgement ripe on his face. 

“No!” Charles’ defense was quick. “I am not ashamed of her. I never have been! I’m… I’m more ashamed of myself. That I didn’t reassure her. I’m ashamed that I did something that made her feel bad. I hate that I did that to her.”

“Why didn’t you introduce her to us and your family anyway?” Carlos asked this time. 

“Because with her, I feel real. I feel different. A good different. And I know how cruel people can be. I know you might not have judged her and I know if my brothers and maman met her, they would love her. Maman, especially. But if I introduced her to you, then that’s one step closer to introducing her to the world. I was scared she couldn’t take the attention and run.”

“Is she why you’ve been so bad in track lately?” Max asked. 

Charles simply nodded before closing his eyes and rubbing his face in frustration. “I don’t know what to do!”

“Well there’s only one thing you can do,” George said in that tone he uses when he thinks he knows best. “You have to go after her. Go back to her and beg her to take you back.”

“And then what?” Charles snapped, unable to stop himself from voicing out the fear that’s been plaguing his mind, “She’ll still be watched by the media. Y/N is soft and she is kind. I don’t know what I would do if people say bad things about her and I know they will. I’ve dated literal supermodels and people were mean. What more someone like her? If someone insulted her in front of me, I might actually commit assault.”

“Mate, that’s up to her and you to talk about it,” Max said. “You can’t really take the choice away from her. If you love this girl, then be with her. Fuck what other people think.”

“Charles, all that matters to us is that you are happy. If she makes you happy, then we will be happy,” Pierre reassured. “You don’t have to worry about us. This girl doesn’t happen to be an ax-wielding psychopath, right?”

The rest of their group winced at Pierre’s poor attempt at a joke but Charles smiled nonetheless. Trust Pierre to always try his best to lighten the mood. “No, she’s kind of perfect actually. I really love her.”

“Then go to her so you can get your head back in the game and beat Max in the championship,” Carlos urged. 

“I don’t know about beating me,” Max smirked and the topic of their conversation shifted to playful jibes and jokes. But Charles’ mind stayed on Y/N, at his friends encouraging words and before his mind could reconcile what his body was doing, he was already on his feet, heading to one of the yachts moored on the island. 

“Where are you going?” Pierre called out as he ran from his friends, towards the woman he loved. 

Charles answered, his mind racing as fast as his heart. “To get my girl!”

When Y/N heard the frantic knocking on her apartment door at 1AM, she expected the worst. 

Which of her family had died? Which of her friends was laying in a ditch somewhere with their car wrapped around a tree? What was the tragedy so urgent, so horrific, that it couldn’t wait until the next day and had to knock on her door at 1AM in the morning?

But when she opened the door, all she saw was Charles, eyes wide and frantic. 

“Cha?” Y/N asked, not quote believing her bleary eyes. “What are you doing here?”

He didn’t reply. Instead, he grabbed her face, bringing his mouth on hers in a searing kiss that had Y/N’s eyes shuttering close and her breath leaving her lungs. 

She tasted the salt of his sweat, felt the searing heat of his hands on her skin as his tongue swept across her mouth, kissing her as if he was underwater and she was the siren able to grant him his oxygen. She kissed him back with equal fervor, her heart deciding what her mind already knew but refused to believe. 

She had missed him, wholeheartedly. And she knew that if Charles ever came knocking back, her self restraint would crumble like chalk on pavement. She would accept him, consequences be damned. 

“I’m sorry,” he panted when she pulled away, her mind racing. “I’m so sorry.”

“Charles, I don’t understand. What are you doing here? I thought you were—“

“It doesn’t matter where I was,” he insisted, his grip on her tightening, like he was afraid that letting go would cause her to disappear. “I’m sorry that I ever made you feel like you weren’t enough. Cherie, tu es belle. Je suis vraiment désolé. Je n'ai jamais eu l'intention de te blesser.”

“Charles, slow down,” Y/N urged, pulling him into her tiny apartment and closing the door behind her. Her french was rudimentary at best and with how fast he was talking, she was struggling to translate what he said. “You’re speaking in French. I don’t understand.”

“You are beautiful.” He blurted, stopping Y/N in her tracks. “You’re the most beautiful woman I know. I’m sorry. I never meant to hurt you but I did anyway and I hate that I hurt you. I’m not ashamed of you but I am ashamed of how I acted. Forgive me, cherie, please. Please take me back.”

“Charles—“ Her phone trilled from where it was charging in her living room and Y/N pulled away from Charles it, ignoring her best friend's flashing face and clicking the red button to silence it.

“You deserve better than me, I know,” he continued, “and I know I don’t deserve you. But I will do everything I can to at least be deserving of your forgiveness. Please, Y/N. Say you forgive me.”.

“Charles—“ her phone rang again and with a growl of frustration, Y/N grabbed it, answering it upon seeing her best friend’s face flashing. “Y/BFF/N, I can’t talk right now. I'm in the middle of—“

“Did you see?” Y/BFF/N said frantically on the other end, causing Y/N to frown. “Tell me you saw it!”

She sent Charles an apologetic look as she answered. “Saw what?”

“Check Charles’ instagram! And I mean, right the fuck now! Call me back when you do.” And she hung up. 

Y/N glanced at Charles before following her best friend’s instructions, opening up the app and searching for Charles’ account. When she saw her picture on the first square, Y/N’s eyes snapped to Charles. 

“You told your friends about us,” Y/N said, stunned.

“I told the world about us,” he clarified. “I never told anyone because I was selfish. I am not ashamed of you. I never have been, never will be. I was scared because introducing you to my family and my friends means that you’re one step closer to being known to the world and I was scared you would run from all of it. From the fame, from the mean comments. It’s happened before and I didn’t want it to happen again, especially not to you. I’m not naive. If people can be mean and ruthless to girls who look like Charlotte and Alexandra, what more you? I thought I was protecting you. I don’t ever want you to leave. Please, come back to me.“

“I can’t believe you told everyone about us.” Y/N still sounded dumbfounded, even to her own ears. 

Charles gave her watery smile. “People should know about you and the love I have for you.”

Y/N wasn't entirely sure what it is about Charles that could have her melting into a puddle on the floor. She's been with good looking men before and none of them ever had that effect on her. But his confession, his conviction, had her abandoning her phone's incessant notifications, her arms automatically wrapping around Charles' neck, pulling him to her. His hands rested on her waist, ghosting down her back.

And, despite herself, Y/N felt her lips pulling into a soft smile. “You know, when I went to bed a while ago, I wasn’t expecting to see my ex knocking at my door, begging me to take him back at one in the morning. Especially since I know he’s suppose to be somewhere in the tropics on vacation.“ 

“Begging?” Charles raised a brow, almost in challenge, a small smile playing at his lips. Mirth and hope mixed in his green eyes and Y/N knew that there was never any chance she couldn’t accept his apology. 

She nodded, her smile turned teasing. “Oh, yeah, definitely begging. Groveling at my feet, asking for forgiveness. Never seen anything like it, to be honest. You know, some girls have a thing for that and I never really understood it before but now, I kinda do. I might not forgive him just so I can listen to him beg again.” 

“You are a cruel woman,” Charles said as he pulled her closer to him, his hands warm on her waist, his nose barely touching her own as his breath tickled her mouth.

“Is that what you’d call the woman willing to forgive you?” She batted her eyes, feigning innocence. “Even after she knows you’re only begging for forgiveness because of your losing streak? You did always call me your good luck charm.”

“You are my good luck charm.”

“I thought you didn’t believe in those things?”

“When it comes to you, I’ll believe in anything and anyone,” he said seriously before he grinned, wide and infectious. The kind of grin that promised an evening of debauchery and laughter. “So you forgive me?”

“Well, you did tell the world that I was your girlfriend so now I have to forgive you and take you back. I wouldn’t want to make a liar out of Charles Leclerc.”

He smiled triumphantly and this time, when Charles dipped his head for another searing kiss, Y/N didn’t pull away.

#charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc x y/n #charles leclerc #charles leclerc one shot #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc instagram edit #charles leclerc fluff #charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc instagram au #cl16 #cl16 x reader #cl16 imagine #f1 instagram #formula one x you #formula 1 #formula 1 x reader #formula 1 imagine #formula one x reader #formula one imagine #formula 1 x you #formula 1 instagram edit #formula one x y/n #formula one fanfiction #f1 x you #f1 imagines #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 fanfic #f1 fluff

[nanomooselet]

So I was writing a dream sequence, and I wrote a line for Knives. Then I was suddenly struck with a horrible suspicion and went to the right issue of TriMax to check if I was remembering right.

I was. So now you all get to know it too. It regards Tesla, so you know it'll be a fun one.

Here it is: The scientists didn't intend to harm Tesla.

This absolutely doesn't absolve them of culpability in her fate, to be clear. It was a horrible thing they did to her, and she continues to be an open wound in any version of Trigun that has her in it. She couldn't consent to any medical procedure, she was a child - and it also makes Knives in Maximum strapping Vash down in July to measure his Gate against his will extra specially hypocritical. (My man's always trying to outdo himself on that front.)

But they didn't mean to hurt her; they didn't vivisect her in the process of examination. They only scanned her to examine her, that was all. They did it a lot, and the equipment was very crude - unlikely to have been designed for the purpose they used it for. I imagine her rapid rate of growth and maturation exacerbated the issue. But they did have concern for her life. She seemed fine, at first.

It was just that they were so excited by this discovery they forgot that damage can be cumulative: because she was scanned so many times and the equipment wasn't built for the job, she developed multiple tumours - as well as, judging by the symptoms, radiation sickness. They began to operate, trying to save her. They failed.

Project is closed.

She was in pieces because... well, she'd ceased regenerating. They couldn't put Humpty Dumpty together again. Again, this was a cruel and terrible thing. I bring it up mostly because it has an interesting implication/resonance regarding Knives in Stampede. (Apart from that I very much doubt we've seen the whole of that story just yet.)

Knives tells Vash that he's sick, and he'll cure him. I have to wonder if the scientists told Tesla something similar. Because after he says that, Knives starts cutting into Vash, pulling out the stuff he thinks is "bad", and ultimately leaves his brother a silently floating husk that's... technically alive.

But he has no intention of harming Vash. No, sir.

And he's done it again, folks. The gold medal in the Hypocrisy Olympics goes to: Millions Knives!

#trigun stampede #trigun meta #tw medical abuse #the line was “something else killing you. i'll cut it out” #if you're curious

[romanoffsbish]

… If Only in my Dreams…

Natasha Romanoff x Fem!Reader

I’ll Be Home For Christmas… (Prev)

Mama-Nat ; Mommy-R

Warnings: Hostile!Nat, Tantrums/Outbursts, Violence, Blood, Injured!R

Sorry it took so long to put out, but I just really wasn’t in the necessary headspace to finish this.

There was a low humming noise that filled the dark room, or at least you assumed it was dark since you'd yet to open your eyes, but judging by the lack of red tint to your eyelids it wasn't all that hard to infer. You intended to appear asleep to your captors, but due to the frigidity of the space you were left in it was impossible to contain your shaking, and as you expected it wasn't long before someone was entering.

"Good, you're finally awake.," the mans taunting laughter bellowed off the walls as he bared witness to the ceasing of your shivering, your body was now stilled, every muscle having tensed up, whilst the hair on your body stood, and your heart thumped harshly in your chest., "Welcome home Agent 22, get some rest, you'll be needing it.," he chuckled unabashedly while your body racked with uncontainable sobs that only further the pain in your head. The sound of the slamming door behind him made a harsh noise as it automatically locked, and you knew, without a doubt, exactly where you were.

Back at the beginning...

——

——

It'd been twenty four hours since you fell, an entire trip around the sun with no answer on as to where you ended up, or if you were even still alive. Presumably you're being held captive by an 'unknown' group of men, with harsh injuries to account for all the blood you lost in Russia. When the sisters returned to the cabin your wife wasted no time utilizing all of her own resources and access to government databases. Every avenue she went down failed though, she knew it'd be pointless to remain in Russia, it's very unlikely your captors had, and she hadn't enough to work with in the faraway place so she set back off to the states for assistance.

So now Natasha paced around Clint's barn, the place she'd advised her former teammates to meet up with her at as it wasn't on any radars. Her heart was absolutely shattered, her gut had been warning her from the start that the trip was a bad idea, but somehow you'd convinced her it would be okay, and now you're injured horribly, and on top of that you're also missing. Had her sister never treated you so terribly, or had she stuck to her guns and kept you home, then this nightmare wouldn't have come to life.

Yelena was sat on a bale of hay, her face was stitched up, injured arm strapped to her body, and her eyes were painfully glued to the floor, unwilling to catch those of her sisters. This trip was never supposed to end in carnage, even if at one point Yelena thought she'd have to kill you herself—deep down she always knew she wouldn't have to, but even in her success of making nice with you, this is still all her fault. Two unsuspecting kids sit inside the Barton's house, only a few paces from her guilty form. The thought of them losing their mommy if they don't work fast enough weighing heavy on her conscience; it all brings her to silent tears.

Natasha hasn't said a word to her for fear of saying things she couldn't take back. She knows Yelena tried to save you, but had she never been reluctant to let you in, then the trip that led to your disappearance never would've happened, and you'd be here, safe in her arms.

Christmas is less than two weeks out, and the idea of you missing Eli's first Christmas leads to her falling to her knees in another fit of sobs. Clint was quick to pull her into his embrace, he doesn't try to shush her, or to cheer her up with promises of saving you—no, he simply holds her close, and allows her the space to fall apart.

Once she'd settled into his embrace, her sobs eventually faded into the occasional hiccup, and they remained in this bubble until she heard the familiar rumble of a jet, then she was racing out of the barn to greet the stoic team. Tony was first to deplane, the multitude of gadgets necessary in his hand to find you work to settle Natasha's nerves ever so slightly. Wanda's next to deplane, her eyes bloodshot from crying the whole ride there, and she's the first of any to pull Natasha in for a hug. Steve was the last to deplane, a heaviness settling on his shoulders as he continues to ponder if this was all his fault—did he compromise your life?

"Now that we're all here, shall we begin?," Tony breaks the tense silence, holding back a shiver once he sees the daggers the little witch was staring into the folded over blonde., "They've got something blocking the tracking device in her neck, here's all that I have for it.," Natasha relays, shoving her semi useless tracker into his hands in the hopes that it'll mean something to him. Tony smiled solemnly at her, then he silently began to fiddle with everything he brought to get the process going.

"Nat, why do we think they wanted Y/N?," Cap asks as a way to hopefully gather more of an understanding on why they only took you, the man however gulped upon seeing the fire in her eyes., "Not sure Rogers, could be the bar fight they caused, or the Hydra mission you sent me on, jury's still fucking out on a cause."

Everyone in the room flinched as her voice had only elevated, making Natasha jump to her feet right after to leave the barn in search of solace. The last thing she wanted was to guilt trip, or make your friends feel responsible. Sadly her her attempts to find such peace proved really hard to obtain when the only person who can bring her back down to earth is gone. Eliana, and Jackson usually brought her said peace, but with their uncanny similarity to you all she could see is what she lost, and failed to protect.

Facing them alone was already hard enough, but when one can verbalize his worries over his missing mommy it only makes it that much worse. Eli's cries also wouldn't stop with Nat around, when just last week it was only her who could get them to, it's as if she knew her mommy was in danger just by looking to her. Natasha was hardly ever alone with them, and she never realized they picked up on that until she returned without you. They'd been ecstatic for about thirty seconds before the emotional turmoil Natasha exuded transferred to them, then it was wailing, and "Where's mommy?," and her already breaking heart couldn't deal, leaving the Barton's to handle the distressed children, while she ran out to sob some more.

Avoiding your beloved kids is the last intention she ever had, but as she sat alone on the rickety tire swing it was exactly what she was doing. Tears ran down her cheeks at the daunting reality that they may never get you back, that she might have to raise the children without your warm touch, and voice of reason. Everything she knew about being a mother came from directly mirroring you, you'd been her reference point for all things proper., "She's alive Natalia, I can still feel her."

Wanda could hear her horrid thoughts from a mile away, the idea alone of never finding you was enough to have infuriated her. Though the tie between you two wasn't blood, there was no doubt it was akin to that of siblings. Hydra was never kind to any of you, but she never forgot the way you looked out for her and Pietro, or how you took the brunt of the testing for their sake. You were their guardian angel, so after many years of forced separation, when they saw you with the Avengers, leaving Ultron wasn't even a question, it was just the answer.

Wanda's no stranger to loss, she's lost everyone who's ever meant anything to her up until this point, everyone except for you. There's no way she isn't going to get you back, even if she has to delve into the world of unforeseen spells. Not a thing, or person in the world would stop her on her conquest to saving her family., "We're going to find my sister Natasha.," her voice boomed through the air with conviction, and for what felt like the millionth time today your wife was crying, she didn't understand what even set her off, but she sobbed anyways while Wanda moved to hold her close for you., "We'll find her Nat... We have to..."

——

Though you couldn't see anything, you could feel everything, like the frigid air being pumped into the metal room in obvious punishment. IV's were attached to your arms, the same set that you couldn't move more than an inch without sharp pains shooting throughout you. Whatever they were pumping you full of made you drowsy, but you were prepared for such torture tactics by Shield, and that's how you've managed to remain awake this whole time.

Time eluded you for the most part seeing as how you'd been locked away like a princess in a castle waiting for her glorified savior in all those silly fables, but you were certain by the tick of the clock—that he placed here to taunt you, that at least forty eight hours had passed since he first made himself known to you. Strucker, the man who held you captive for years, and who you'd believed was dead up until this point now held your life in his hands.

Slimy hands that only sought out unyielding power and to also bring you immense pain. It's obvious that Strucker heard about your giving up of your powers with the way he's using the cold to ice you into a weakened state. It's likely he always knew they'd kill you eventually, you reckon that's why he didn't put up much of a fight to find you after you fled over a decade ago. If you weren't so fatigued you'd give him a piece of your mind, but more to the truth, he'd yet to return, and you weren't wasting energy yelling at him through the cameras.

So you lied there silently, your eyes fluttering shut for the briefest of moments before they'd pop right back open—he wasn't getting the satisfaction of a win, no upper-hands for him. 

Funny enough, you were like the calm in the storm while lying emotionlessly on the bed, but unbeknownst to you, your prospective savior was in the state of a damsel in excess distress. Truly, you'd both managed to flip the script.

——

Hope around the Romanoff household had dwindled into nothing after over a weeks time, as Tony had yet to give the redhead any good news, and your wife was so distraught over this lack of progress that she'd only been getting about two hours of sleep a night, and was of hardly any use to anyone. Nightmares of all kinds plagued her mind every time her eyes were closed, and when they opened she was reminded that she was living in one just as bad. Wanda and Yelena had decided it best to stay with her in your house for the sake of the confused children. Wanda tended to Eli most days, while an injured Yelena usually handled all of Jackson's entertainment and needs.

Today though, Wanda had been urgently called into the barn by Tony and Steve, while Yelena was passed a grumpy Eli into her good arm. Jackson was whining for food, but the baby was crying, and Yelena couldn't manage both. Natasha went into the living room to decipher the fuss, and at the sight of the chaos she moved on autopilot, scooping up the little boy. Then she waltzed into the kitchen with the toddler clinging to her offered comfort, and she microwaved him a tray with chicken and fries.

The little boy whimpered when being removed from his mama's arms, she hadn't kept her comfort from him intentionally, and it ruined what was left of her heart to see him hurting due to her distance. He needed to eat though, so she settled his food before him, all was going well too as he smiled up at her gratefully, and she returned the smile, her first of the week. While she stayed to observe him she noticed he was only eating the fries with ketchup, and the chicken was left untouched. In an attempt to encourage him to eat the protein she dipped it into the available ketchup, but her face twisted when he looked at her in genuine disgust.

"Icky sauce.," he insisted while pushing her hand away, the former—potentially soon to be—widow's face scrunched up in obvious confusion. He'd literally just been eagerly dipping his fries into the ketchup with no issue., "Jackson, baby boy, please just eat the nugget, they're good for you.," she pressed the boy on tiredly, to which he loudly shouted back no, then continued to eat the fries unbothered.

"Jackson, don't yell at mama, and eat the damn chicken.," she herself yelled back, but she was instantly regretful as he flinched and looked to her with a wobbly lip, and eyes that were filling up fast with tears. A pained gasp left her when he shakily pushed her comfort away, he was sobbing, but wanted nothing to do with her. The confused look in his eyes was obvious, she had never yelled back at him before, she'd left the outbursts to you, and you were always so good at redirecting the non desired behaviors.

Natasha and you had agreed early on that you weren't going to be the parents that yelled at their kids for every little thing, that instead you'd lead by example, and the both of you would practice kindness, partaking in gentle parenting over the modern worlds harsh ways. Now, in one weeks time she'd undid it all, because the precious little boy looked at her as if she was the devil, Eli's sympathy wails soon filled the space, and it all broke her spirit even more., "Mama's sorry, I'm so sorry baby."

After removing the tray from his chair she gently placed her hands before him., "Baby, please look at mama, I'm sorry that I yelled at you.," the little boy looked up to her, glossed over eyes to resemble those of your own met hers, and she had to curtail the incoming sob at the heartbreaking resemblance. He needed her, the feelings she had would just have to wait., "Come here baby.," she pleaded desperately, watching as he worked through his options, and after only a second he launched from his chair and into her awaiting arms, she secured them around his tiny body, and the both of them cried together on the kitchen floor.

Yelena entered with the sniffling baby who, to her shock, reached for the two on the floor. After silently passing her over, Wanda entered the kitchen in a rush, the sight of the broken family cuddling causing her to steel her face., "What did the guys want?," Natasha's hoarse voice broke through the tense silence, but she was too focused on the kids in her arms to see Wanda's features twitching before speaking., "To see how you're doing, and quite frankly, the answer was not good Natasha.," she lies, and Yelena catches it instantly., "Let's get all of you off the floor and into bed for some rest."

Yelena notices how eager the witch was to get Natasha out of the way, she lets her know as such too when she glares her way but she still hangs back, and waits rather impatiently for the woman to return to the living room.

—

Strucker was amused as he entered your cell to find you humming along to a familiar tune. Your mind was entering a state of delirium he'd been hoping for, the German tune reminiscent of your old Hydra days, and he wondered why it was even a source of comfort for you., "Agent 22, time for you to come with me."

Internally you were cheering, you were playing into whatever game he wanted by appearing fragile, and broken to his preferred specifics. Staying in this room gets you nowhere closer to escaping, and you also knew that no one could track you on the basement floor of the base.

However, as his men hoisted you out of the bed, the first time in a week that you'd been made to move more than from the bed to the toilet directly to your right and back, you could finally feel the extent of your injuries, and you knew you couldn't fight your way out of here.

The burly men groaned as if you weighed ten tons when your legs suddenly gave out, and all your weight was left on them to carry. They let you know of their displeasure too as they were unnecessarily tugging on your injured arms. It was obvious to you that your right shoulder was dislocated in the free fall, while your left was just brutally strained. It was something you expected, because before losing consciousness you remember dangling from an oak tree by the wire of the grappling hook that you had managed to wrap around your hands.

Along with the dislocated shoulder you could feel all the tiny, untreated scratches on your face. They were itchy, and sore, along with all of the other marks you managed to get as the rocks and branches tore through the many layers you'd been previously taunted for wearing. Fortunately nothing too bad had happened to your legs, they're bruised up from hitting all the rock, but other than that they're fine. Having been unfed for over a week is what left you weakened, and thus unable to walk.

The men placed you in a cold, metal chair, and you groaned at the set up, tools of every type laid on a metal tray besides your body, and in front of you a man was setting up a camera. These setups only ever meant one of two things with Hydra, a morbid chance to say goodbye, or a hostage negotiation, that usually ends with a dead hostage, and a dead or captive savior.

"I bet you're wondering what your fate is.," Strucker reappeared before you, hovering and looking down to you with a devilish smirk., "You'll know in due time dearest one.," you shuddered at the old, nauseating nickname. The man smirked wider at your disgust, then he clapped your shoulders for an added bite of pain before moving to face the camera lens.

"Privet Agent Romanoff, and Maximoff.," your heart skipped when he addressed the two most important women in your life., "My beef is not with you Romanoff, but with your wife, and my very special girl Wanda.," the urge to vomit was at an all time high when he referenced her that way., "Sorry to you for destroying your family, but as an old friend of Dreykov's, I'm actually not sorry—call it an eye for an eye, will you?"

"However, I am willing to strike up a deal, I'm not a monster after all.," he feigns sympathy as he blatantly lies to your people, you know damn well that you're a dead woman sitting if they're not strategic enough about this., "If the witch willingly returns to my team, then I'll give you back the useless scraps behind me."

"Don't do it Wanda! You know it's a trap.," a fist connected with your face harshly, your jaw making a crackling noise as your head swung to the side. Blood trickled down your chin, and for a moment silence befell your form, but to all present parties shock you chuckled wildly, lifting your head back up to face them., "What? You think I can't take a punch?," you taunted the man, though your jaw ached intensely you wouldn't give him the satisfaction of knowing., "schwache Hündin.," you spat at the man, blood landing on his cheeks, and in retaliation he head butted you rather harshly, causing you to bite your tongue in more ways than one.

(Weak bitch)

"Feisty as ever I see.," Strucker interrupted the chaos, his hardened gaze on your pained face., "Don't worry dear, the fun is just beginning.," he chuckled before facing the camera again., "Consider this your six hour head start mighty Avengers, that's how long Mrs. Romanoff here has before her life will be completely ended."

—

Wanda is only gone maybe a few minutes, and as soon as she enters the room Yelena's in her face., "Why are you lying to my sister?," Wanda rolls her eyes, not really having the time of day for this., "For my sisters, and her own good.," she brushes right passed the confused blonde and heads straight for the door, but she pauses.

"I-Is Y/N...?," Wanda turns back to glare at her, her eyes phasing into a crimson hue, as tendrils of her magic move across her fingers., "No, and don't even hypothesize such a thing Yelena, might be your dream come true, but it isn't any of ours.," she growls, the low blow of her words not even an afterthought, her mind is only consumed with a need to save you., "That's not fair, we're family now, I-I.," she began to defend herself, but Wanda waved her hand about in quick dismissal.

"Yelena, I do not have time for this, I put her to sleep, the effects will wear off in a few hours, and by the time she wakes up I'll have Y/N."

"Natasha will never forgive you for going without her.," Wanda nods, a slight shrug to follow, with her back to the blonde., "Then so be it, but we both know she's in no condition to fight, and moreover, this is mine and Y/N's battle, no one else's.," she shut the door swiftly, an obvious finality on her chosen words that left the blonde to fall back in an anxious heap on the couch., "So not cool Y/N Romanoff..."

—

Everything in your body hurt, wounds that had only just started to scar over from your fall were ripped wide open again, the men were chuckling darkly with every cry you couldn't suppress, and your will to remain conscious was dwindling fast the more their varying actions went on. Fists of one pummeled into your ribcage leaving you breathless, while a scalpel was teasingly ran over your throat, lightly nicking the skin on occasion to keep you abreast of your looming fate.

Tears fell down your bruised cheeks, mixing with your blood as you gave up the front, the likelihood was that today was the day you died. You weren't crying over the physical pain, you were numb to that after about an hour, no, you were crying for the sake of your little family. Natasha isn't ready to be on her own, not that anyone ever is, but you know for her this'll be a true test to her strength, and though you love her, there's no faith she'd ever recover from the heavy loss. She'd told you almost daily how she couldn't live without you, and though it was a soft statement in the moment, the sentiment was all the same in the end; she meant it.

Eliana, and Jackson have barely just started, and now you've left them in a shattered family. Because there's no way Natasha won't end up resenting Yelena for this happening if it ends bad. It's all a bout of tragic ironic really, all you ever wanted was to fix their problems, and in trying to do so it appears you only made it ten times worse. At least before they were talking, the blonde just hated you, maybe it was selfish of you to want more there.

Had you just let her grow to like you, instead of pushing for a quick resolution, then the family would be intact, and you wouldn't be dying...

Harsh sobs began to rack your body as your most fondest memories ran through your mind all so suddenly. The first time you ever kissed Natasha; it was so vivid that it was if you were reliving it, a smile gracing your face in real time as you remember what it's like to feel her, to taste her lips, and it hurts to know it's over. Then as if to taunt you your mind moves to when she said yes to your marriage proposal, and then through all the many "I love you's.,"

Then the birth of your son plays, and the many moments after that you screen grabbed within your mind of his milestones. Standing out to you most was how Natasha was such a nervous wreck during that time, remembering all the many ways she tried to keep him safe briefly warmed up your freezing body. Memories of your daughters birth and every gummy smile she ever gave you flew through next, and it just left you praying for more; you needed time.

Those sweet little memories of the four of you on the couch, with Natasha rocking Eli to sleep while Jackson and you geeked out over whatever cartoon was on at the time, those were always your favorite nights. Natasha and you took turns gazing lovingly at the other, a sweet little game that always ended in a shared kiss over the slumped bodies of your children.

Once your eyes fly open, as if they were shut against your accord you gasped, the once silver room was decorated crimson, and the woman stood before you was as well., "Wanda.," you sighed in relief, then as your body knew you were safe, you'd slumped into her arms, all the adrenaline now leaving you in your true state. Wanda gently maneuvered you comfortably within her hold, then she flew out the hole in the roof that she'd previously entered through.

A monocle dangled from her hand, a trophy she collected in proof of her success...

—

Natasha woke with a start, hands searching for you, but soon her body shook with the knowing sobs that the lovely dream had ended. Reality was far more bleak for her, but she still softly smiled at the sight of your sleeping children. One against her, the other in her bassinet, and she decided there that she needed to get it together for their sake, you'd want her to do it.

Just as she began to process through some of her grief the door to her room flew open, and an out of breath Clint entered., "We have her."

Natasha stumbled out of the bed, scooping up the sleeping baby, while Clint grabbed a now awake Jackson., "Mama?," he tiredly whined, and Natasha rounded the bed to kiss his cheek, "I'm right here my little love.," she reassured him, once he felt secure in that knowledge he snuggled into Clint, and the duo ran out of the house, speeding passed a confused Yelena.

Once she heard the car tear off she knew what was going on, she smiled to herself at the good news, but then she frowned upon noticing the dullness in the lived in space. Nothing about your place felt right to her now that you were apparently back. She knew from stories told that you absolutely adored the holiday that was Christmas, so she called the men in from the barn, and the three planned out a miracle.

It might be December 30th, the holiday having passed on by without a celebration, but it didn't have to mean that all hope was lost.

—

Natasha ran straight into the infirmary, a sigh of relief left her seeing from afar that the lying little witch was drenched in the blood of her enemies, and with just the briefest glimpse of your hair her anxieties settled. Then she heard your laughter as she got closer, stilling in her move to reach you, she allowed the sound to reverberate around her mind for a moment. Her lip trembling as she never thought she'd hear such an angelic sound again, and with that she was running to get to you once more.

Your head lifted off the pillow when the doors slammed open, and your heart fluttered in your chest at the sight of your beautiful wife running towards you. Her hands shakily held your face, and her lips steadily pressed into yours, the both of you choking back a sob at the touch., "Detka, oh my gosh, I-I can't believe it's you."

"In the tattered flesh.," you teased, and she chuckled at your tasteless joke, then she turned to Wanda with a glare that would scare off the burliest of men, but the witch only winked., "Told you we'd find her.," she held up the cracked monocle, and Natasha beamed at the sight before pulling the gross witch in for a tight embrace., "Thank you.," the witch hugged her tighter at her soft whispers., "Mhm"

"When can she leave?," Natasha asked as she looked at you being healed, her heart wouldn't truly settle until you were in the house she built for you, full of every safety feature she could have ever imagined courtesy of one Tony Stark., "Tomorrow evening.," Cho sounded off from behind., "My cradle can only heal her so much, so the shoulder will take time, but on the bright side Y/N's body is still advanced from her Hydra years, so I anticipate the sling for a week, and with proper physical therapy she'll be good as new in a months time."

"Where are my babies?," you whined, causing the women to giggle at your loopy state., "Sleeping in the old man's lap, I'll bring them in once you're out of this scary contraption.," she offered, you pouted, but even in your loopy state you knew she was right to not bring them in when you looked so scary., "Perfect."

"Yeah, you are.," Natasha whispered against your forehead as her lips laid there, lingering in their place for what felt like an eternity, and if not for the promising future laid out before you  both she'd probably let them linger forever.

——

Natasha was cautious as she settled you into the front seat of the spacious car, even though you'd been cleared by Cho to do so yourself, she wasn't really a fan of not holding onto you., "Ready to go home, moya lyubov'?," her lips pressed to yours after you nodded, and she pulled away with the calmest smile afterwards. As inconspicuously as you could you wiped the sudden tear from underneath her eye, her lips pressed to your palm a in silent thanks, then she finally managed to leave your side, just to resettle down next to you in the drivers seat, her hand holding onto your thigh as she drove.

Wanda was in the back with your smiling kids, and you locked eyes with the witch through the rearview mirror, she didn't have to read your mind to understand what your were saying. She smiled warmly, letting you know that she loved you just the same, you were the sister she never had, but always wanted, and your thanks were unnecessary, but she nodded anyways to acknowledge them, and only then did you relax fully into your seat for the journey back home.

Natasha was in a state of disbelief as she put the car in park, the previously barren house was outwardly decorated for the holidays. Something she herself usually did at the start of the month, but the trip kept her from it, and then the motivation was clearly nonexistent when she didn't have you around to celebrate with. Honestly, she was a bit put off by them at first, they were almost too perfect, resembling that of the finest houses you'd see in movies like The Grinch.

Brightly colored lights were strung across the trimming of your house, a string of faux icicles hung over the stairs, with a sprig of mistletoe nestled in the center of the bright blue lights. Blown up characters in their Christmas attire from Scooby Doo and Winnie the Pooh sat off to the left side of your house in pretty alignments. A perfect layer of snow adorned the ground after last night's storm, giving off a Winter Wonderland vibe. Mini snowmen were built in your family's likeness directly in front of the right bannister, an old crown of Wanda's was placed atop of one of them, making the witch in the backseat cover her mouth as she held back a sob as the notion overwhelmed her.

Natasha was about to gently awaken you, but your sons shrieks beat her to it., "Mommy!," your body jolted forward, you turned to face him but he shook his head, finger pointing away., "Loot! Pretty wites!," your heart soared at the sight of the decorated house, and in a moment of childlike glee you bursted out of the car, ignoring the shiver of your body in favor of appreciating the joyous atmosphere., "Natty! It's Christmas!," you knew it wasn't, that the holiday had passed while you were gone, but you weren't wasting the opportunity to pretend as if it hadn't, you were going to celebrate.

Natasha shook her head in amusement, lightly chuckling as she hastily approached you to pull you into her warmth., "I can see that lyubov'.," her tone was soft, but held an underlying layer of surprise that told you she didn't plan this. Noting the vest over the snowman beside yours you knew exactly who'd orchestrated this, and it warmed your heart to see the complete 180.

Gasps of further shock left both of you as you entered the house, Natasha held Eliana, while Wanda walked in behind you holding Jackson. There was a gorgeous tree in the corner of the living room, with soft white lights to create a calm ambiance, a sparing array of ornaments adorned the sprigs, you smiled when noticing the rest sat in a tattered box besides the tree. Stockings lined the chimney, with a silver garland weaved around the stocking holders.

The grunt of frustration from your right pulled your attention away from the living room. Entering the kitchen you snorted at the sight, Yelena's hair was up in a messy bun, the apron she wore was covered in various powders, she was glaring at the smashed eggs in her hand, and in an instant you were moving to help., "No, Y/N, I got this.," she brushed you off, trying once more to use her good arm to crack the egg into the bowl for the holiday cookies. After another failed attempt you physically bumped her hip, then before she could protest you cracked two eggs simultaneously with your good hand, and her mouth fell open., "How?"

"Years of practice, I've been fixing breakfast with a child on my hip for nearly three years.," you snorted as the blonde just stared at you., "I'll teach you all my tricks one day Lena.," the blonde crashed into you, an overwhelming need to hug you, because after all that had happened you're the only one who's treated her without any malice present., "Thank you for doing this by the way, really lifted my spirits."

"I'm sorry.," she squeaked, causing you to twist about then lift her face to look into her eyes., "This wasn't your fault, it was a battle of my own, and Wanda's. You did your very best, and you deserve to feel the joy of Christmas too.," you booped the younger girls nose in a moment of weakness, her pout was truly adorable, and you've become soft since motherhood., "Go make nice with Natty, and send me Wands."

Wanda entered the kitchen with a knowing smirk, with the snap of her fingers she had an apron on, and Yelena's mess was wiped away., "My forever partner in crime.," you teased the platonic love of your life, and she winked your way before pushing you aside to work at the dough, and you settled on the counter to watch.

You used the leverage to peer into the living area, watching as Natasha allowed Yelena the honors of putting the star on the tree, to which she shared the responsibility with your son. Lifting him up onto her good shoulder, and cheering encouragingly as he finally got it., "Good job Jacky boy.," your wife beamed, and your heart soared when he shot into your wife's open arms without a moment's hesitation like he had done in the past., "Mama! I did it!”

Wanda looked to you with a proud smile, then sent you a knowing look, telling you to go join them, and that she'd handle the cookies, and the fixing of dinner. You settled a kiss to her cheek, then giddily joined your family in the living room, the warm welcome was great, but when Eliana reached for you over Natasha you actually burst into the happiest of tears, then with Natasha’s help you held the sweet little one on your lap on the couch as she babbled.

After your wife and you snuggled on the couch with the littles for awhile she noticed the time., “I’m gonna go get them ready for bed lyubov’, you rest, then we’ll set the holiday mood with a film before their bedtime.,” you were slightly shocked to see the initiative she was taking to keep up their routine, usually she just followed you around, doing as you said, but this newly found confidence was really hot to you, and your wife picked up on your sinful thoughts just by the way you gawked at her in lieu of answering., “We’ll be back shortly.,” she pecked your lips, then scooped both kids up, and left with a knowing smirk upon her face.

Rudolph was put on the TV as soon as Nat returned with squeaky clean babies in their matching reindeer pajamas that you and Nat also planned to wear to bed tonight. Wanda joined the lot of you with floating bowls full of paprikash, beverages for all and a plate of fresh chocolate chip cookies that you sneakily ate one of before even touching your dinner.

Eliana fell asleep within five minutes of having her warm bottle, and you relished in the sweet, warm feeling that enveloped your whole body as she snuggled even further into your hold. Then you looked over to see your son babbling to your wife, who enthusiastically responded to him, even when he’d said nothing of substance. Even—especially-with the kids swapped out, this was still your favorite form of bonding time, nothing strenuous about it, just loads of giggles and cuddles to warm everyone’s hearts.

—

After you settled the kids in bed, the two of you returned to the living room to ensure it was ready for the “Christmas” morning. Wanda and Natasha set out the cookies and milk, then took over gift wrapping for you and Yelena who were sat on the carpet in focused collaboration. Doing your best as you used your good arms to get the presents settled, but it was nothing if not the ugliest wrapping you’d all ever seen.

Yelena and Wanda eventually said their goodnights as they left to head to your guest bedrooms that were really just their rooms at this point, and just as soon as the space was in perfect order Natasha reached for your hand., "Dance with me?," the way she bit her lip in a fit of nerves filled your heart with nostalgia, the happenings of your first date were much the same; you took her hand, allowing her to gently pull you into her body, and for her to instruct the AI in your space to shuffle Christmas hits.

"I'll be home for Christmas.," Natasha's arms tightened around you., "You can plan on me."

"Please have snow and mistletoe, and presents by the tree.," Natasha cautiously spun you around, light as a feather to not harm your good arm, and you giggled when you landed beneath the mistletoe.,  "Christmas eve will find me, where the love light gleams.,” her lips pressed all over your face before pressing to yours for only but a second, because she was more interested in staring at your face to really solidify to her mind that you were truly here.

“I'll be home for Christmas.," her eyes were shining as they looked into yours, the pain in her heart was melting away right before you., "If only in my dreams.," Natasha's lips crashed to yours, the kiss held passion, but their was no true heat to the lip locking you'd engaged in.

"I'm grateful that my dreams actually came true.," she whispered against your lips, and though you could feel that she was smiling widely, her voice still cracked as she spoke., "YA lyublyu tebya, printsessa.," her lips moved against yours again, her tongue slipping passed your parted lips, as her tears transferred onto your cheeks, but neither of you cared as the salty taste of the careening droplets fell into your open mouths. The overwhelming need to feel one another, to become reacquainted with the other's taste was far too strong to worry about such things., "I love you so much Natty."

"Merry Christmas.," Natasha beams as the clock strikes twelve, you giggle then lean in to kiss her once more., "and a Happy New Year."

———————————

6,947 Words

❤️ Kaitlyn 🥹

Happy New Year 🎊

#natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff imagine #natasha romanoff fluff #natasha romanoff angst #natasha x reader #natasha x y/n #natasha x you #natasha x fem!reader #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff x female reader #natasha romanoff x you #natasha romanoff x y/n #gxg #natasharomanoffpov #natasharomanoff #natasharomanoffxyn #black widow #black widow x female reader #black widow x y/n #avengerspov

[twothpaste]

Thoughts about Porky?

my thoughts on porky are such a vast tangled web of forever spaghetti that i'm not even sure where to begin or what to pin down. the premise of a tormented child ascending to near-godhood out of sheer misanthropic spite towards the whole wide world makes my brain do backflips like a sea world dolphin. i'll ramble a bit about him.

he's ness' foil. just two chubby kids who probably grew up with their (un)fair share of bullying. the only thing distinguishing them was the familial abuse porky suffered, which he inevitably regurgitated. then destiny comes along, choosing ness over porky, and the jealousy just eats porky alive. watching his bestie accumulate friends and accolades, unable to accept it's his own rotten behavior that's driven a wedge between them. gotta imagine the burden of cutting porky off was almost unbearable for ness. somethin' that keeps him up at night, wondering if he'd just been a little kinder, or sterner, or more understanding - maybe he could've saved his old friend? not quite yet realizing it was Not At All his responsibility to "fix" someone who'd dug his grave and laid in it. porky's the kinda bad guy you love to hate, but considering his upbringing, you hesitate to blame the poor schmuck. all he knows is authority and manipulation. if you gave any ornery ostracized thirteen year old unlimited power - instead of empathy and guidance - they'd probably go down the path of vengeance, too.

he's lucas' foil. both of 'em were given plenty of reasons to hate the world. when faced with an unhappy childhood, do you choose love anyways, and move forward? or do you let it become your villain origin story? porky refuses to grow up, to such an extreme degree, that he's gotta drag everybody down into neverland with him. thinks he's got human nature all figured out, when really - kid dropped out in eighth grade - his expertise starts at the middle school lunch table and ends at Lord of the Flies. where lucas seeks to bring about a brighter future, porky's terminally obsessed with the past. barfs up the same old hierarchical capitalist bullshit he grew up with. hoards memorabilia. makes monuments to his warped nostalgia, as if anyone on the nowhere islands knows or cares. even tries to mold lucas into a makeshift ness - one last final battle, one last chance for destiny to stop me, here, take this baseball bat, come get me, let's play. but it doesn't worrrrk, because the gilded past he aches for is long buried, and these people aren't actors in his self-aggrandizing biopic. where lucas wakes up and says, "i don't have to be the same coward i was yesterday," porky says, "me? change? not a chance in hell." even if it costs him everything. porky's real worst nightmare is a world that moves on without him. once he's trapped in his time capsule, that's exactly what he's got in store.

i think he's the sunk cost fallacy incarnate. the sheer momentum of a thousand horrible decisions he can never turn back on. earthbound porky might get a little bit of slack, sure. but given a bazillion years worth of opportunities to change, mother 3 porky actively chose to get worse. what fucks me up most is how real he is. can't call a villain like this "insane", or even terribly exaggerated, when i'm lookin' out the window these days at billionaires, covid deniers, fuckin' terfs and maga hats. some people really would sooner die, or become all-consuming monsters, than admit they were wrong. it's all or nothing. in his eyes, either he's a visionary hero, or everything he's ever done was irredeemably reprehensible - and all the torment and criticism and loneliness he endured was therefore deserved. he can't bear the weight of it, so he simply doesn't. that's what underpins his character, to me. like. the moment he'd admit fault, or apologize, or express an ounce of regret? he'd cease to be porky. denying himself the human capacity to grow, forever, just to spare his fragile ego. could almost pity him. almost.

a perfect villain for both of the stories he terrorizes, and my favorite villain in anything ever. when itoi said "porky is truly a poem in himself" he wasn't kidding.

#ask tag #2thtalks

[sosuigeneris]

Mini life updates:

I’ve lost 1 inch since I began the lipo-B12 saline 3 weeks ago

I began using a new product to encourage new hair growth - it’s like this foam thing but it’s super greasy ugh

I began doing J*hn Bent*n’s (censored so that it doesn’t pop up in search) model workouts. He’s an asshole so I didn’t purchase his program (he did some Bad Things and now his wife took over his modelling fitness program company and has been promoting it under the guise of it being “Women-owned”). I found a link on Reddit with a file that has 5 of his workouts. He does have good workouts and they give good results but I ain’t putting a cent in his wallet.

I might adopt a Persian kitty idk

I finished my fittings for the custom piecesss

im yet to break up with my boyfriend 😭

I honestly should just do it. It’s been like a month and half that I’ve been wanting to end things. But the timing is terrible or something or the other pops up and it’s just plain annoying. I have ceased most communication with him and some days, I forget about him completely. I know it sounds horrible of me and I agree that it is but I’m so over this. He went on a boys trip with his cousin and some friends over the weekend and I didn’t want to ruin it for him so I decided to delay by another weekend. So now the coming weekend is the absolute deadline I’m giving myself. It’s sad because he’s a genuinely good guy but my infatuation has faded and the distance doesn’t help. And he doesn’t match my main criteria anymore for a partner. It’s only been like 3-4 months of us seeing each other so it’s not like he’s going to weep buckets over me, but I feel so small and awkward ending things. If he was a terrible personality I would’ve taken great relish in ending things but his overall niceness makes this much harder than it ought to be.

It’s best for both of us to part but he’s one of the “I’m bob the builder I wanna fix this !” types. Isn’t it the worst when the wrong person has the “let’s fix it” mentality?

I’ve bought new books to encourage me to break up and celebrate the aftermath. I’m only going to allow myself to devour them once I follow through with my plans.

-cherry 🍒

#female manipulator #this is what makes us girls #this is a girlblog #hyper feminine #divine feminine #just girly thoughts #it girl #girlblogging #i’m just a girl #female hysteria

[silverflamedqueen]

Stages of Regret( Chapter 2)

After a disastrous Christmas party. Nesta Archeron decided to leave behind her old life, to start anew. Now a year and a half later. Her past has come back to haunt her.

Having Cassian in her space felt strange. Yet she didn't mind it. Part of her welcomed it. Nesta had almost forgotten how broad his frame was. When he almost didn't fit through her front door. She snorted at the sight of him sidestepping to get inside. Earning her a look.“ Why is your door hobbit sized?” Nesta shrugged. “ It’s a normal-sized door. Have you ever considered that you’re not normal?” No response after that.  As he started to take in her apartment.

   She watched as Cassian took in the small space she called home. He examined the pictures on the fridge. Glanced at the pictures hung on the wall. One, in particular, intrigued him. A gift from him to her. Back when they dated. Was he surprised she still had it?

Moving on he observed the brightly colored toys littering the common room floor. Looked suspiciously at the atrocious popcorn ceiling. His narrowed gaze told her that he didn't care for the sloppily patched up spots.  They were few. But, they admittedly weren't small. 

A few more minutes passed. Yet, no words were spoken. They didn't need to be. Nesta already figured out what was on his mind. It’d only be a matter of time before he voiced his disapproval of her living space, of their living space. 

     As far as apartments went, it wasn’t terrible. It wasn’t the best though. There had been minor issues here and there. But, overall, not any horrible issues. They weren't in a bad area either. It also was the only one Nesta could afford at the time. Renewal had come months back. A lease that she resigned despite having the funds to upgrade. She enjoyed the company too much to move. Gwyn and Emerie made the place a home. They had become her family. Eventually, however, as her child grew. More space would be required. But, for now, this was fine. She’d cross that bridge when the time came.

   Her apartment was nothing compared to Cassian’s though. The building he lived in belonged to Rhysand’s mother. As he was her adopted son. He paid a reasonable rent, for a well above-average apartment. She’d even go as far as to call it luxury.  Many times he’d asked her to move in with him. Which was met with the same answer every time. No. She refused to live under Rhysands roof. No doubt he’d expect something from her. Constantly throw the fact that she lived there in her face. Whenever she displeased him. The most she had in that building was a drawer in Cassian's room. Which Cassian promised to not tell a soul about. Lest he wished to incur her wrath.  Often she wondered what happened to that drawer. It housed some of her favorite t-shirts. One of them had been a merch shirt from the gym Cassian owned. It was the softest shirt she ever owned. 

   Now that she thought about it. Cassian also had problems with her last apartment. He’d bought her extra locks for her door. He was a worrier, that's for sure. In the three years that they dated. The man fussed over her like a mother hen. Constantly making sure she ate that day or asking if she needed him to change her oil. She doubted anything had changed. No matter how much she had snipped at him about it. The behavior never ceased. If anything he found it amusing. He fussed then, and he would fuss now. It would just be over a different girl. 

“ How did you know where I lived?” she asked, breaking the silence. Cassian made his way to the couch. Plopping down,  making a strange face as he did. “ A buddy of mine owns a club not too far from here. I ended up bringing Az along.” He shifted, pulling a wadded-up blanket out from beneath him. “ Imagine my surprise when I saw my missing ex-girlfriend on the pole. We followed you here afterward.” There had been no judgment in his tone. 

“ How did you know what door I was in?” The child in her arms squealed.  Drawing Cassian's gaze onto her. “ Found a package on the doorstep, pure dumb luck I suppose.” She had taken a few steps forward. When Cassian spoke again.

  “What’s our daughter's name?” Nesta didn’t miss the pain in his tone. Nor did she miss the anger lurking underneath, no doubt directed toward her, rightfully so. “ Her name is Evie,” she responded, walking even closer to him. “ Evangeline’s her full name. It’s just a mouthful.” He stared at her in shock. His mouth agape. As if he wanted to say something. His eyes spoke for him though. She knew the importance of that name. It’s why she chose it. “Do you want to hold her?” 

  He stood silently, gently taking Evie from her arms and tucking her onto his side. Cassian stared at the little girl. A smile taking over his face. The first one she’d seen from him today. “ Hey, beautiful.” he cooed. Fatherhood suited him already. She knew it would, he was just the type.

  Reaching out her hand in response. Evie began patting his shoulder. A move Nesta knew all too well. Before she could warn him, that little hand had grabbed a fist full of Cassian’s hair. Pulling it towards her. Pain flashed across Cassian's features. As his head was yanked forward. Yet the softness never left. Maybe he didn’t want to spook her or make a bad first impression. ” I forgot to mention. She likes to grab hair.” Nesta couldn't hold back the small grin that no doubt showed.

  A ghost of a smirk danced across Cassian’s face.” You and she have that in common.” He froze for a second. Realizing what he had just said. Nesta ignored the comment. Cassian seemed to ignore it too. So easily he fell into that old banter. Nesta cleared her throat. “ You accept her here. Yet outside parentage seemed to be questioned.”

“ I never questioned her. I just didn't know what to say. Besides,”  He turned to look at her.” You're many things Nesta, a liar isn't one of them.” He began to pace around the room. Adding a light bounce to his step. His hair still captive in Evie’s hand. He’d have to pry those fingers off, hope she got distracted, or cut the hair. If he wanted it back.  “ Were you ever going to tell me? Or was I just going to get a surprise at my doorstep in eighteen years?”

  Nesta swallowed her shame. “ I had every intention of letting you know. I went to your door. But, when I knocked-” she paused “Morrigan answered, and reminded me of what a waste of space I was. Then slammed the door in my face. When I asked to see you.” 

Nesta now made her way to the small kitchen table. Putting as much distance between the two of them as possible. Being so close to him again. Was already starting to affect her. she could feel his warmth. Not only that, but, seeing him interact with their daughter. Made her hate herself more than she already did.  She also dared not say what she wanted to. Dare not say how she’d drive by his complex to tell him, and beg him for forgiveness. One day she did have the courage to go in. She’d just given birth a few weeks prior. The door code hadn’t been changed, much to her surprise. However, the sight of Rhysand had her turning tail and rushing back to the car. After that, she didn’t return. So afraid of another run in.

 Cassian shook his head. “ Mor wouldn't do that. Not in my own home. I told her multiple times that you were welcome there. It must’ve been a misunderstanding.” Nesta scoffed, Of course, that was his response. “ She would, and she did. Ask her the next time you see her. Also,-” She caught his eye. Her voice now laced with ice “ What happened to I’m not a liar? I should’ve known you’d doubt me. Where your friends were concerned. You always did. '' Standing up, she strode over to where he stood. Where Evie now squirmed in his grasp. “ She wants down.” 

  Nesta plucked her out of Cassian’s arms. Overpowering any resistance he put up. Disbelief evident on his face. After being put down. A beeline was made toward her toys, unsurprisingly.

 Nesta turned back to Cassian. Her anger bubbling up from the depths. Like a monster being awoken from slumber. But, before she could speak he ground out.” You had other ways to tell me. I had a phone. You could’ve called, or texted. Anything would've been better than running, and completely vanishing off the face of the earth.”  He sighed, as he ran his hands through his hair. The bun now fully out of its elastic. Courtesy of Miss Evie Archeron.

 Rage simmered behind his eyes. But, he kept his tone low. “ Do you know how long we looked for you? Everyone was worried sick. Your phone was disconnected, you broke your lease, and quit your job. You didn't exist anymore. All because of an offhand comment.”

“ That’s what everyone seemed to want at the Christmas party, you included. I doubt anyone was worried when I vanished though.” Nesta laughed. “Everyone loved Morrigan’s idea. I just made it a reality. All of you should be thanking me. Mean, nasty Nesta was no longer an issue.” Shaking her head, she marched to the kitchen. Intent on busying herself. It helped when thoughts ran rampant in her head. Cassian followed closely behind, his steps heavy.  “ That’s not what she meant. I gave her a warning for it too, regardless. Don't drag her, or the others into this. This-'' He motioned between them” is about you and I”

  Nesta sneered “ What did she mean then? Please tell me what other interpretation there was. You’re taking her side. Just like you always have.” Taking a deep breath. She bent down and opened the dishwasher, calmly grabbing plates, and putting them in the cabinets above. Her hands began to shake. A telltale sign she was stressed. Cassian must’ve noticed too. He always looked at her hands. When he couldn't figure her out.

He breathed and took a step back. His hands held up in surrender. “ I’m not taking sides here. I’m trying to understand. I want to understand, Nesta, that's it.”

“ Silence is still taking sides” The dishes now abandoned. She leaned over the counter. Peering over at Evie playing with her blocks. Blissfully unaware of the discourse. Without even looking at him, Nesta muttered “ I think you should leave. We can continue this another day. When she isn’t here. I don’t want to fight in front of our daughter, please.” Today she would surrender. 

 Any fight left his voice at the word please. “ Okay. Before I go though. Where’s your restroom?”

 She pointed him to the hallway. This whole thing was a mess. One of her own doing. The only thing stronger than her anger now was her fear. What would the others think? What would they say? She vanished from their lives. Cut all ties, and moved to the opposite side of town. Became an exotic dancer, and had a baby. Whose existence she kept from the father. A man who would’ve loved to be a part of everything. The good, the bad, and the ugly. Nesta heard their taunts already. They made her want to crawl in a ball. To just not exist.  She shook away the voices. But, they’d be back. Of that, she was certain.

  Cassian appeared out of the hallway. Making his way to Evie. Crouched on one knee. He began to coo once more.“ Hey Gorgeous, I’m gonna go now. You be a good girl for your mom ok.” her only response was a smile. He ruffled the small tuft of honey brown hair atop her head. Eliciting a joyful laugh. “ I’ll see you soon.”

  He met Nesta back in the kitchen. A somber look on his face. One of pity. He didn’t have that before. She hated it. Wanted it to go away. “I need your new number”. Nesta had almost forgotten to give it to him. Taking his phone from his hand, she entered her number. Returning it once she was done. With nothing else left to say. He made his way to the door.

  But, just as his hand touched the knob. A plea flew from her mouth, quick and desperate. “ Please don’t tell anyone else about this yet. Tell Az to keep it to himself too.” He stared ahead blankly, then nodded. He turned to her. That same somber look. She wanted to scratch it off. “ You have my word. I’ll give you some time. But, I won't hide this forever.” His gaze fell on Evie. Then back to Nesta. “I want her to know her family. I want-” he stopped himself. “ We’ll figure this out.” With the click of the lock. He was gone. And she was alone with her thoughts once more.

#nessian angst #nessian #nesta archeron #acotar #acosf #nesta x cassian #nessian baby

[ultrainfinitepit]

🏵️🍃🥀 for the emoji ask list!

🏵️ [ROSETTE] What flower symbolizes your OC best and why? What does the flower mean in floriography?

Sam is fireweed. It’s a flower that grows in areas that have previously been burned by fire. It’s a symbol of rebirth and resilience, which suits Sam well. And the name is very fitting, Sam would be a weed if he was a flower: something that people disdain as useless or annoying but is still beautiful to the right person.

Lily is lily of the valley. She lives in Puddle which is in a valley, and her name is Lily. It’s a sweet flower that looks like something out of a fantasy novel. It’s a symbol of joy, sincerity, and luck, which suits Lily well. It’s one of my personal favorites!

Cale is dandelion. Like Cale, dandelions change shape. They are symbols of hope and perseverance. And dandelions are delightful flowers: they are edible, fun to play with, and bring joy to people. But yet they are humble as well, just like Cale.

Zeke is forget-me-not. It’s all in the name for this flower. Zeke has no memory of his past. Memory, remembrance, and forgetfulness are all important parts of his character. Forget-me-nots are delicate and sophisticated, which suits Zeke well. They are symbols of true love and respect, two things that form the basis of all the relationships Zeke treasures the most.

Mick is sycamore. It’s his last name so it seems fitting! He’s dependable and strong like a sycamore tree. They are symbols of divinity which aligns with Mick’s angelic nature. 

Vivian is red poppy. I’ve picked this flower for her more for the color than anything else. Red is Vivian’s color, and the black center of the poppy hints a little at her dark nature as a vampire. It’s also a flower to symbolize the threshold between life and death, and as a vampire and forensic pathologist, Vivian embodies that threshold as well. Relatedly, if Vivian was a fruit she’d be a pomegranate. 

Pat is white clover. This is perhaps a rather stereotypical choice for Pat, it’s the national flower of Ireland and he’s Irish. But I feel like it suits him too well to pick anything else. It’s another humble flower, it’s a symbol of luck, protection, and lightheartedness - all which Pat seems to either have, or have need of throughout his story. If Pat had a house with a lawn, he’d want a clover lawn for his kids to play on but also to provide food for bees.

🍃 [FALLEN LEAF] What’s the darkest period of time your OC has been through?

The hardest life for Sam was the life after his adoptive family were killed. We call this the Evil Sam life because he became completely rebellious and murderous and it ended in a very horrible way for him and his Keeper. He was in terrible grief over losing his family and it was further fueled by bad influences around him. Looking back, Sam hates this lifetime the most, he sees that version of himself as senseless and cruel. 

However, not far behind this life, is the life right after he was forced to forget his soulmate, Zipporah. We call this the Cult Leader Sam life, because Sam started a doomsday cult. That lifetime was one where Sam felt a deep-seated emptiness so terrible, it twisted his entire worldview into one where he felt the entire world should simply cease to exist, so he could cease too. That emptiness would carry over in part from this life to the next and so on, even into his Puddle life where at last it would be filled by Zipporah’s memory once more.

The only reason I say that life is not his darkest period is that, when Sam looks back on it, he feels it was the correct reaction to losing Zipporah. A world without Zipporah in it simply has no right to continue existing. We are very lucky Sam tried to do something about it back when he was in a lame human body, and we should hope he doesn’t try the same thing after he gets his full angelic form back!

Before Sam came to Puddle, Lily was relentlessly bullied and all her friends turned on her. She was ostracized for her weird behavior. While Lily felt she was much the same it was like suddenly everyone else was different. We could say this is because she was growing into her witch powers, but I think even if Lily wasn’t a witch this still would have happened. Lily felt she couldn’t talk to her parents about any of this, and had to handle it on her own. Some days all her secrets and troubles felt like too much. She considered running away without a word. But she loves her parents too much to do that. Luckily Sam, Cale, and Zeke come into her life and become her new friends, who love Lily and her weirdness.

When Cale is much older, his best friend Lily passes away of old age. They both had lots of time together and they were both prepared for this, but even still it hurts Cale a lot. At the same time, Cale’s friend Zeke is off somewhere in the world fighting his personal demons; and Sam is dead and gone (once again) so Cale can’t talk to him. Cale leans a little bit on his new Puddle friends and family for support, but there’s only so much they can say. The people who would understand Cale best in this difficult time, Zeke and Sam, aren’t around. So for a while, Cale stays in the woods in the form of a bear or sometimes a dog. He roams far and wide through the valley and even beyond it. He lives each day looking ahead only at the next one, thinking like a beast and not a man, until finally he’s ready to return to town.

Zeke’s life before he was Zeke was awful. He was named Cain then. Cain had a hard upbringing, and ended up on a dark path filled with loss and selfishness. His own hubris resulted in the death of his boyfriend Isaiah, and then later his own death.

But if we say Cain’s life is separate from Zeke’s, then Zeke’s darkest time is after his wife Delphinia is killed. This starts a chain of events that leads to Zeke’s imprisonment in a magical coffin, which is a tortuous time in his life; and then to the death of his son Samuel, in the same way Cain and Isaiah were killed as well. Zeke doesn’t even get a chance to breathe before a war starts and he’s tossed into that. He pretty much completely loses touch with his humanity, and embraces undeath fully as a way to numb himself to the pain and deal it out onto others instead. Zeke eventually comes back from this dark time, but the effects of it linger on him and he’s never quite the same person after.

Mick’s a pretty steady guy. He’s gone through dark times, arguably most of his human lives under control of the Order are dark times, but he’s a good little soldier about it and if he’s got any hard feelings about them he just files them away quietly.

I think there’s maybe two exceptions to this: in one lifetime, Mick had to execute Lucy, the nephilim child of the angels Ash and Orpheus. Lucy was Sam’s adoptive sister as well. While Lucy was evil and had to be stopped, she was still very young and much loved by all the angels, and it hurt Mick a great deal to have to be the one to stop her. 

In a subsequent life, Mick was the mentor of Adam, the nephilim child of Sami and Zach. One day Mick and Adam got into a fight with the corrupted angel Gabriel, resulting in Adam’s death by their hand. Mick has since blamed himself for Adam’s death, and Sami’s subsequent descent into madness and mourning. 

These deaths shook Mick to his core, and affect him even into the present.

Vivian had a rough childhood. In the beginning it was not so bad, she has vague happy memories of her father and mother. But after her mother was discovered to be a vampire, Vivian’s happy life was ripped away. Her mother ran away with her and then basically abandoned her to live in the care of a lodging house manager, who treated Vivian like a worker rather than a child. Vivian got so desperate that she jumped at the first chance at freedom, even if it would land her in a pirate crew of bloodthirsty vampires. So Vivian would probably consider this early part of her life her darkest time, and say everything following it was a breeze.

But it wasn’t all sunshine and roses from then on. After Vivian was turned into a vampire by Teutho, their relationship began to sour. She spent decades being miserable, yet there were enough good times stringed together where she convinced herself, it was not so bad and she was happy. Finally she realized she no longer loved Teutho, and left to go pursue her dreams of becoming a doctor - which would fail, but she was still happier failing at her dreams than not chasing them. If I had to pick I would say this was Vivian’s darkest period, even if she doesn’t see it that way. It was a time of emotional abuse and manipulation that left a deep impression on her.

When he was younger, Pat was rebellious and reckless, and developed a heavy reliance on alcohol. He fell in love with his wife Martha and they had two sons, and Pat began having a creeping feeling of deja vu. He was determined not to be like his father. He made an effort to always greet his boys with smiles and laughter, but it started being too much with his work and the alcohol and the bills piling up. One day Pat blacked out, he lost an entire day and when he woke up, he was in the hospital and told he had gone drinking, and various things happened, and he had been dead for a full minute. Pat did not want his sons to see him like this, but Martha brought them anyway. The looks on their faces was the wake up call he needed, and Pat sought out a therapist through his church, and went away to rehab. That day in the hospital was the worst day of Pat’s life, and he was determined never to repeat it. Since then, he tries very hard not to drink, and he’s learned to talk about his problems instead of bottle them up.

🥀 [WILTED ROSE] How good is your OC at meeting deadlines? What motivates them?

Sam waits until the last minute to start anything, he needs that deadline panic to really motivate him. If it’s something important he will do it to an excellent standard, it will appear as if he has been diligently working on it up to the deadline. If it’s something unimportant, which is totally up to Sam’s judgment, he will leave it unfinished or give up and then somehow blame the person who gave him the task in the first place.

Lily has the potential to be just as bad as Sam, but deadline panic makes her flustered and she is prone to making mistakes when flustered. Lily learns she does her best work when she makes a plan at the start and follows each step carefully. She motivates herself by tracking her progress using a log book, ribbons, and other cute things so the task turns into something fun rather than work. She will usually cajole one of her friends into giving her a reward, or treat herself to something nice, as a further motivation to finish things on time. 

Cale was raised to be hard working and obedient, so if he really commits to something he will always get it done on time. The way he does this varies wildly on the day and the task. Sometimes Cale does things bit by bit over time, other times he’ll rush everything at the end much like Sam. However, Cale is only motivated to do things if he sees the real, practical value in the task. If it’s something too vague or frivolous, he will simply ignore it, which can be a problem sometimes. His friends and family often rely on Cale’s desire to please them to motivate him. It becomes a game of asking Cale to do something in just the right way, with clear enough instructions for him to see the end goal.

Ezekiel always meets his deadlines. He lays out a plan for every step of his task and then follows through on it flawlessly. If he has to, he will sacrifice sleep, socializing, and food to meet his deadline. Zeke prides himself on being perfect and dependable, this is all the motivation he needs. If he’s competing with someone, that’s even better motivation because Zeke loves to prove his superiority to others. He’s the type to get extra motivated if there’s some kind of ranking system or medal at the end. 

Mick is very disciplined and always meets his deadlines. He might not write down a plan but he will certainly have one in his head that he’s following. He’s very stubborn about his plans, and it’s hard for him to adjust to surprises. He will stay on his plan and follow it until the task is complete, with some time right before the deadline for any last minute changes. He’s only learned to add that time recently after many lifetimes of dealing with unpredictable people. Other people are the bane of Mick’s existence when he’s working on something, he always finds himself in the project leader role and no one ever meets his standards. Mick is motivated by his innate willpower, but also, secretly, his desire to impress people.

Vivian can also be very disciplined like Mick, but she writes her plans down. She has journals that she uses to make plans very neatly, she enjoys stealing pens in different colors that she uses to make these plans. She’ll collect notes and do research as much as possible so she has everything she needs to execute her plan on time. But she doesn’t always meet her deadlines. Vivian’s flaw is that she needs to have a certain amount of work on her plate or she’ll lose all her motivation. Too little and she won’t feel sufficient pressure to follow through on all her careful plans. Too much and she gets overwhelmed, her plans go out the window and suddenly she’s not getting anything done. This is why Vivian often has little background projects going on, such as writing a paper or trying to piece together a cold case; she needs this extra bit of work in her schedule to motivate her to do everything else.

Pat is average. He usually meets his deadlines, if he doesn’t he has a good excuse such as family. Pat will work overtime if he has to, to stick to his commitments. He’s not as rigid as Mick in his approach to work, nor does he require the same workload balancing act as Vivian to stay motivated. Pat is simply the type to do his work on time to the best of his ability. He considers himself a man of his word, and if he promises something he’ll try his hardest to fulfill it.

#town of puddle #ocs #ask #long post #these were fun to answer #thanks for sending them!

[howlyourmelancholy]

Como La Flor

summary: in which you receive a bouquet of flowers

warnings: a smidge of angst & fluff. older remus & reader (like in their late 20s or early 30s).

words: 408.

notes: i have a bad attention span and have no excuse for why this is out before the new emaila x sirius one shot. what i can say is that i've been listening to this song on repeat for two days, and it partly inspired this drabble.

It was your birthday, and after ten years, he still remembered it.

As you looked down at the beautiful arrangement of flowers—orange dahlias, your absolute favourite—you felt overwhelmed with emotions. Tears danced upon your lashline as you thumbed one of the velvety-soft petals, blurring your vision and stinging in the back of your throat as you tried to hold them back.

Ten years, you thought.

Some days it seemed like a lifetime ago, and other days it seemed as though it all happened only yesterday. You’d met Remus at Hogwarts in your fifth year, drawn to him like a moth to a flame. His intense eyes and mop of wild brown hair, his effortless charisma, and the air of mystery about him—you'd happily danced into his fire.

In your teenage eyes, Remus was the personification of perfection. You had been completely enamoured with the boy, utterly and hopelessly in love with him, right up until you graduated from Hogwarts.

You'd spent countless nights in his embrace, loving him, comforting him, and just being with him. The world around you ceased to exist during those stolen nights, as if it were just the two of you against the universe. And then the real world settled around you, and that love slowly faded until, eventually, the two of you went your separate ways.

It hadn’t happened for any rhyme or reason. There had been no fighting or cheating, no horrible intent behind a terrible motive. It would have been easier if there had been an explanation; you could have been angry and moved on easier, but the absence of ill intentions only added to the bittersweetness of your breakup.

The truth was that you and Remus had simply grown as people, and in the process, you'd grown apart. You'd had your friends; he’d had his own. He pursued his interests, while you chased your own. You had less time for him, and he had less time for you. Life had taken you in different directions.

But somehow your thoughts always came back to that wild-haired boy you had met and loved at Hogwarts. You couldn’t help but wonder where he was and what he was doing now. Had he found happiness—someone to take your place, someone to share his life with? You hoped that he had, even if a part of your soul still longed for the connection you'd once shared.

You hoped that he was happy.

You really did.

#remus lupin #remus lupin imagine #remus lupin fanfiction #remus lupin drabble #remus lupin x reader #remus lupin x y/n

[writing-whump]

War not won

Julian trying to hide being sick. Ryan provokes him to make him admit it. Cue comfort at the end.

-----

Julian hated being sick. It just didn't feel right anymore. Before, he wouldn't worry about it. Simply accept your fate, make precautions, inform people and get better as soon as possible.

He was always reasonable like that.

That was before and a lots of things were different, but this was the worst one. Cause he felt like a total burden for feeling off, for not bringing his A game and he felt terrible for a day he couldn't keep up with Ryan or follow him around.

He felt like he owned him so much. Fun, friendship, company, motivation, anything. Being sick was an excuse he ceased to have a right at.

So if Julian was sick, there was no way he was telling Ryan. He excused himself from classes right from morning, skipped practice at the gym and relied on Ryan having long day till evening and not catching on. He would surely get better until then.

It was difficult to keep the positive attitude when his stomach was cramping so hard. All he managed was to get a plastic bag to his bed and curl up on it under the blankets. He was shivering although the room felt stuffy and hot. Clothes were soaked in a minute and he felt like he couldn't breathe, or sleep because of the annoying sun knifing at him from the window. But standing up and pulling the curtain was too much effort, so he stayed put, hoping to sweat this out.

Julian finally managed to fall asleep around noon, when Ryan burst into the room.

"Whatcha doing, lazy ass? Didn't see you at lunch."

Julian blinked, eyes feeling heavy, and suppressed the urge to groan. Just when the sweet ignorance of sleep was falling on him!

"Was too hot. Wanted to take a break today." He always tried to normalise breaks these days, so Ryan wouldn't feel bad for needing some. Not that Ryan ever did take a break. Recovering from a wound was fine, but he wasn't willing to take things slowly after finally getting a yes from his doctor about resuming training.

"Yeah?" Ryan eyed him critically. "Cause you look weird. Sure you are alright?"

"I'm sure." Julian said, directing all his remaining strength into a calm stare. Ryan watched him for a few tense seconds, then shrugged.

"Fine then. Let's take a break. What about some music?"

Ryan flopped himself over to the small armchair they managed to squeeze between tables and the bed and dripped on TV.

Julian clenched his teeth. His head was pounding in the rhythm of his heart and his stomach felt tight and angry, churning loudly. Music would hide the noise, but he really really just wanted to suffer in peace.

Ryan put on his YouTube playlist on the TV and even put the volume up, whistling with the melody.

Julian turned his head to the wall angrily. The music was too loud, shaking him. As if the instruments played just to rile every molecule of his body. He was also getting nauseous from the heat again.

Curse Ryan and his stupid music and his stupid timing...was he doing it on purpose?

"You want a song of your own? Huh, Julian?"

Oh this was bad. He was calling him by his whole name.

Julian actually did throw the pillow over his head then. His mouth was pooling with saliva and something was climbing up his throat. He slowed it down quickly, but the nausea was like a blanket now, crawling up his arms, his neck, his ears.

The drums and the guitar joined the chorus of voices and Julian wanted to vomit then and there.

The horrible realisation made him shoot up into a sitting position, only to sway dizzily as he tried to stand up. Blood rushed into his head and his vision blacked out for a minute as he tried to catch his balance.

"Julian?" Ryan's voice was innocent, but he was watching him intensely.

Don't be sick, don't be sick, don't be sick. He chanted in his head. The water he drank in the morning was climbing up, with a terrible mushy aftertaste...

He stumbled to the bathroom, shutting the door behind him. The white tiles were all turning and moving around and the yellow light cut into his eyes. He braced himself on the sink, trying to breathe through the nausea, but it wasn't helping at all.

Julian squeezed his eyes shut, trying to swallow it down, to hold it, but the vomit rushed out of his mouth with a cramp. All he could do was lean forward and let it happen, as warm water spilled out.

The cramps were terrible. Why was it hurting so much, when he was already vomiting? He burped and another wave of sick rushed past his mouth and into the sink.

He remembered himself then and got the water running to muffle the noises. He wasn't a particularly loud puker, so maybe this could slide...

Worse thing was the dizziness. He couldn't tell which way was down anymore. Stars danced behind his eyes and the sink was slipping from his fingers.

"Juls." Ryan's steady voice was like an anchor in the storm. Julian blinked, tried to focus his eyes, but his vision was still sparkling black and another hot wave of water blew out of his lips. His legs gave out.

"Whoa. I got you, man. Sit down, sit down." Strong hands gripped his shoulders as he sank to the tiled floor. Ryan was steading him, slowing his fall.

Julian was blinking rapidly until his vision cleared slowly. The world was still spinning, but at least he could recognise the bathroom ceiling again.

He was crouched on the floor, back leaning against Ryan's chest. Ryan held his upper body, hands on his upper arms from behind. "You here with me?"

That's when he felt coldness on his shirt. He puked right all over himself as he lost his balance.

Mortification tightened his throat, but he was still too confused and scared. Heat settled on his face and he felt the prickle of tears.

"Ryan, I-" he burped loudly and groaned as his stomach spasmed again. "I-I d-don't feel good."

"I knew you were sick. Why can't you admit it right away? Seriously. You are supposed to be the reasonable one." Ryan squeezed his shoulders where he held them.

"It's all on my shirt..." He hated how whiny his voice got.

"Shhh. I know." Ryan helped him sit up and them positioned him to lean against the shower bath. Then he took the rims of his shirt. "Arms up."

Julian was left shiver without his shirt, feeling pukey and gross and the worst burden in the world.

Ryan held up a wet towel to his face and dabbed at his cheek and chin. "There you go. All better."

Julian bit his lip hard, feeling the dizziness subside but the nausea rose up again. Rocked him like a boat. He burped and then gagged all over.

Ryan held the towel under his chin as bile and water caught on to it. The blond wasn't fazed at all, even swiping the bile from his lip with the clean end of the towel again.

"Aww man. You are really sick, huh?"

Tears spilled down his eyes then. He was just a filthy producer of bodily fluids today. His nose clogged up from the strain.

Ryan discarded the towel and sat down beside him, arm going around Julian, pulling him close. Julian's head ended up on his shoulder. "It's okay, man. You are okay. Don't cry," Ryan said.

Julian gave up. He tried to spare Ryan this, tried to be helpful, but he always ended up being helped instead. It wasn't fair.

So he cried into Ryan's chest, hating how much the touch and closeness loosened the tightness in his stomach. It was the first time he could breathe all day.

"There you go. Deep breaths."

Julian sniffled, and Ryan got him toilet paper to blow his nose into. Ryan's hand was running up and down his upper arm.

He felt better, not being alone in this.

Like the war wasn't won, but couldn't be lost anymore.

#whump #emeto #emetophilia #sickfic #emeto writing #hurt comfort #bromance #vomiting #wip: guarded hearts #my writing #I'm on a roll this week #also tips and feedback very welcome #trying to improve

[thisgirlnamedblusy]

Hellooo, how re you sweet?.

I was thinking of a one-shot where Marilyn, being Laurel, orders Tyler to kidnap the reader to use his body as part of the crackstone resuscitation and maybe the reader is chained up in the crackstone cave or crypt and that there's some kind of dark attraction between Laurel and Y/n, obscenity if you will. I don't know if you feel comfortable writing this.

Yess, no problem. I accept almost all kinds of requests. I've seen worse things written out there, so don't worry :). I hope you like it, and I'm sorry if it's too dark. Sorry about the language mistakes too.

A nightmare not so nightmare

Pairing: Marilyn Thornhill/ Laurel Gates x Fem! Reader

Warnings: Kidnapping, smut, this is darker than others, be careful…

Word count: 2,618

Summary: You just passed by Jericho to make a stop on your way, but you didn’t know what was going to happen…

N/A: Yes, it’s dark, I’m sorry. Requests are open!!! Remember that I don’t care about the plots if they were reasonable, and not out of the common sense :) Sorry about the language mistakes.

It was late. At that small cafeteria there was no one left, except for the young waiter. You were passing through that town. You were a traveling girl, and you took advantage of your vacations to visit some areas of the east coast that you did not know. You would soon discover that it was a terrible mistake, or maybe not.

Sitting at a table, you read information about that town. Apparently there was a strange academy in which people with special talents studied. You knew what that was, your cousin was a werewolf, and apparently he spent his student days there too.

The guy behind the counter seemed to be busy with his phone, you couldn't blame him. There was no one else in the cafeteria but you. He raised his head for a moment and looked at you briefly, nodding to himself.

A sound like a train whistling made you jump in your seat.

“Oh, God… what a scare,” you said, with your hand on your chest. That horrible noise came from the coffee machine. The boy looked at you apologetically.

You got up and walked towards him.

“Ey, is everything alright?” You asked, seeing how he seemed to get desperate with the machine.

“It's the fifth time it's broken. This time the boss throws me out, sure,” the boy said, visibly nervous.

“Okay, okay, calm down. I have worked with a similar one. I'm going to try to give you a hand…” You said passing behind the counter. You weren't bad at machines, and the guy was nice to you, he even bought you another coffee.

“Really?” He asked, with the face of a good boy. “Tha, thank you very much.”

You winked at him and glanced at the machine. You soon found something strange and frowned, looking several times in case you had imagined it.

“Hey, nothing is wrong with this machine, you have started it without coffee inside and...”

You couldn't finish the sentence. You felt a strong pain in your head, as if you had been hit from behind. Your vision became blurred and a dizziness took over you, causing you to fall to the ground without being able to help it. Everything went black.

You slightly widened your eyes. Your head ached, but that wasn't the worst of it. It seemed as if someone was taking you somewhere. You couldn't move, you were still dizzy. The ground ceased to be grass, and you entered a place eerily lit with candles.

“Well done Tyler, good boy,” a female voice said.

That didn't look good and you decided to close your eyes and pretend to still be passed out. On your head you noticed some moisture, it was probably your own blood.

“Leave her there, on the ground, and put the chains on her,” that woman ordered. You were a bit scared, but it could also be a dream, so you stayed calm when the guy from the cafeteria lowered you to the ground. The cold of the stone came into contact with your body, causing you a chill. Your hands were manipulated and you felt the cold iron on your wrists.

You dared to open your eyes a little. A strange woman was there, next to the waiter. You didn't know where you were, but it was definitely a scary place. It didn't take you long to realize that it was some kind of crypt, or mausoleum. They both looked at you, noticing that you opened your eyes. That woman addressed you, with a sinister smile.

“You're awake, that's great,” she told you ironically. You were dizzy and disoriented, but you needed to know what was going on.

“Where…Where am I?” You stammered, trying to move your arms. It was impossible, you were bound with chains. A strange fear invaded you, but you were still recovering from the blow to your head, so you couldn't think clearly.

“I suppose nothing will happen for you to know. You won't be able to tell anyone either. You're at Joseph Crackstone's crypt,” she told you, sighing, turning her back on you and looking for something in a briefcase.

Your vision cleared and you shook your head, trying to understand what was happening. You noticed that woman and it didn't take you long to recognize her.

“Eh... You're that woman who was at the cafeteria this afternoon...” You murmured, trying to get rid of the chains, it was impossible.

“What an observant girl…”She told you with a disturbing tone. You started to get nervous and shook the chains harder, knowing that whatever she was up to was up to no good. That woman laughed at your powerlessness to escape.

“Hey, if this is a joke, it's not funny,” you said, checking that everything in that place seemed real.

“Oh my God. Calm down, you only spend energy in vain. You are very important…” She told you, turning to you with what looked like a saw in her hand. “You are going to help me carry out my revenge, your precious hand will help to resurrect my ancestor, and thus end all the disgusting outcasts.”

You widened your eyes. That couldn't be real at all. Your head couldn't process something like that, it was even too surreal to be a nightmare. You decided to take it as a joke, so that you could control the fear you felt. You were like that, you always found a way to laugh at everything bad that happened to you.

You let out a laugh in the middle of that sinister place. Your captor's face paled and slowly darkened.

“I think, I think you confuse me with another person,” you said between laughs. The boy from the cafeteria and that redhead looked at each other.

“What kind of idiot have you brought me?” She asked. This Tyler guy shrugged.

“Come on, I've got you,” you said, trying not to think that the blow to the head was completely real, and it still hurt. “Surely you have confused me with the girl who was at the bachelorette party…”

Little by little you could contain your laughter and your eyes darkened a little, looking up and down that woman, very attractive for you.

“Although if I can choose, I prefer that you undress yourself,” you said looking at her. “Don't be offended, I'm not into boys,” you said to Tyler, who looked at you terrified.

The woman stormed up to you and grabbed your chin tightly. You hissed, beginning to realize that this was all serious.

“Don't make me gag you, bitch. I don't think you realize the seriousness of your situation, but you won't be long in doing so,” she told you, looking at you with the darkest eyes you've ever seen. Her grip loosened and you remained thoughtful, coming to the conclusion that this was real, and that you were in danger.

“Hel…Help, help!” You yelled with all your might. “Get off me, you fucking psychopath!”

“Tyler! Shut her up!” The redhead yelled. The boy nodded and turned to you, putting a hand over your mouth. You reacted quickly and bit him with all your might, causing him to withdraw, shaking his injured hand. You snorted and started kicking, desperate.

“She, she bit me,” the waiter complained. The woman rolled her eyes and went for something. That something was a gun that was pointed directly at your head. You widened your eyes and stopped moving, startled by the gun.

“Okay, okay, take it easy... Don't do something crazy,” you said, relaxing a bit.

“Are you going to be quiet? Don't make me shoot your pretty face,” she threatened you.

You nodded profusely. Once the gun was out of sight, you breathed again. You had to think of something to escape, no matter how much that crazy woman attracted you for some reason you didn't know.

“Very good, honey, I like it that way...” She said, leaving the weapon on top of a black sarcophagus that was in the middle of that crypt. “Tyler, go outside and watch,” she ordered the boy, who immediately obeyed.

“Yes, Laurel,” he said before heading out the door.

You had to get out of there, no matter what. Maybe a little psychology could help.

“Laurel?” You asked trembling. “What a nice name.”

She turned around and looked at you with a crooked smile. At least you got her attention.

“You're very kind…” She said, waiting for you to tell her your name.

“(Y/N),” you stammered. Somehow the situation seemed to relax a bit. She must have scared you, she seemed completely unhinged, but for some reason, she stopped scaring you. You were always looking for the most inadequate women. Your twisted tastes would one day be your downfall, that night, for sure.

Laurel crouched down in front of you and in a terribly tender way she caressed your cheek. You stirred, but you enjoyed the touch.

“I like you, (Y/N), maybe if you behave, I'll let you alive…” She whispered to you, too close to your ear. Your eyes went straight to her blouse, which showed a little of her cleavage. You were always just as indiscreet and intrusive, even on the verge of death, you had time for your lustful thoughts. “My eyes are up here...”

You got scared and looked up. As if that wasn't enough, she'd caught you looking where you didn't have to.

“You're very cheeky…” She said, giving you a soft smack on the cheek. “What a shame to meet like this. I'm sure that in other circumstances we could have had a great time,” she said, getting up and going again for the saw, and what looked like a syringe.

“What, what are you going to do to me?”  You asked.

“Don't worry, you won't feel anything, I promise,” she told you, checking that the syringe didn't contain air.

“Wait, wait, wait, can't we talk things over?”

Laurel laughed mischievously and shook her head.

“Think that you are going to do me a great favor…” she told you, approaching.

It was your end, and your last act was to look at your killer's tits. It will be a curious epitaph. She didn't seem to dislike you too much, she told you that in other circumstances it would be different. If you were going to die, you at least wanted to have fun.

“Hey, hey, wait a minute,” you said, trying to back away, to no avail, of course. “We can get to know each other a little better if you want, you know, a dinner, a coffee…”

She laughed again, but she stopped.

“I don't think there's time for that, (Y/N),” she said to you raising her eyebrows.

“Well, we can get right to the point. I've always wanted to do it while I’m tied with chains, but girls are all boring...” In part, you only delayed the inevitable, but on the other hand, you also had a certain morbid curiosity.

“Oh, yes?” She asked ironically, bending down again. “What a beautiful coincidence, I love playing with girls like you, tied with chains,” she hissed, leaving the saw and the syringe on the floor. She seemed like she was also tempted by the idea and you bit your lip.

Not wanting to wait any longer, she climbed on top of you, her legs on either side of your hips. Her hand went to your hair, pulling hard at it, forcing your head back.

“I'm warning you, brat, if this is a trick to try to escape, I'll kill you before you know it…” She whispered in your ear, after which, she bit your earlobe. You shook your head and sighed as she let go of your hair.

Laurel looked at you lustfully and began to unbutton her blouse little by little. Your breathing quickened and you decided to forget for a moment about the situation you were in, and try to enjoy the moment, since it would probably be your last one.

“Do you like this, (Y/N)?” She asked, running a hand gently across her half-naked chest.

“Oh yeah, you're pretty sexy for being a psycho killer…” You whispered, feeling free to do and say whatever you wanted. She laughed evilly and pulled your hair again.

“Dare to insult me again, and I'll spank you until you bleed, bitch,” she told you with a dark and threatening voice.

You kept quiet, not putting your life at risk more than it already was.

Laurel's hands went to the tank top you were wearing, pulling hard on it until it ripped, revealing your bare chest.

“Mmm, not bad,” she whispered, cupping one of your breasts with her hand, making you gasp. “Do you want mommy to fuck you, bitch? Are you so desperate?”

You opened your eyes and decided to ignore those words. That she had that way of speaking was not the most dangerous thing about that woman at all. Before you could do anything, your pants slid down your legs, along with your underwear. Her look was anxious and disturbing, while she unexpectedly gave you a soft pat on your clitoris.

“Ah,” you said softly, closing your eyes, for which you received a slap on the cheek.

“Look me in the eyes. Don't even think about closing them,” she ordered you abruptly, while, without warning, she inserted two fingers inside you. Her smile returned to her face, seeing how your body was waiting for her. “So wet... I thought Tyler was wrong to bring you here, but now I see that he was not.”

“Oh, my God,” you moaned, feeling invaded by pleasure. There was no fear, no anger, just pleasure.

“That's it, sweetie, enjoy mommy…” She whispered to you, increasing the pace little by little. It was without a doubt the strangest situation you had ever experienced, and perhaps the last one.

Your moans were getting louder in that crypt, while you struggled not to close your eyes.

“Oh, fuck…” You gasped, realizing that you were reaching your own limit. Another mischievous laugh sounded from the stone walls.

“How weak you are. I'll have to tame you a little next time…” Laurel hissed, moving her fingers to make you explode.

In the midst of all those moans, you were able to make something clear. If she said “next time”, she surely wasn't going to kill you. A strange happiness and relief coursed through your body, causing you to orgasm immediately, writhing in the little space you had.

“I like you, (Y/N), you are docile,” that sinister woman told you, approaching your lips to kiss them with a disturbing tenderness. “Now let me cum too.”

You caught your breath and tried to move your hands, but soon remembered that they were chained. You didn't know if you should comment or not, but you decided to be brave, your body and mind were euphoric.

“But, but, my hands are tied…” You said, waiting for another slap that never came.

“Oh honey, no one said you're going to use your hands,” Laurel said, getting up and removing her clothes.

You immediately understood what that was about. Especially when she stood over you, standing, and she grabbed your hair hard, pulling your head between her legs.

“Start doing something now,” she ordered, pressing you tighter against her. You obeyed, starting to kiss that area. You could feel humiliated, but on the contrary, you were terribly turned on.

After a few skillful moves, you got her to moan, pulling your hair hard. With some contempt she released you, pushing your head almost against your head.

“You've been lucky, (Y/N). You will not be useful for my plans, but maybe for other things you’re perfect….”

#marilyn thornhill #marilyn thornhill x reader #wednesday #laurel gates #ms thornhill #oneshot #smut

[zv5x]

hiii i have a req >-< Could you please write about an Unwilling and Kidnapped reader being begged for forgiveness by yan!/delusional riddler because he did something that could have come off as “cheating” or “betraying” the reader? reader could be forced to forgive because otherwise riddler would hurt himself aaaah!

"Hypothetical Betrayal" (Yandere!Riddler • GN!Reader : Romantic Scenero)

this is so sick but also so cute god i love the riddler, enjoy my welcome back fic! I'm proud of this one, and I hope you all like it just as much! tw // use of the yandere trope , toxic and abusive mindsets , unhealthy relationships , guilt tripping , sui//de baiting / threatening , restrainment , yelling and unstableness , s/h / attempt at hurting oneself & graphic descriptions / implications of such, sexism & incel mindsets

You knew something was horribly, terribly wrong from the moment Edward walked in the door. You thought it was going to be an evening as normal as Edward could give you, even with what you could only call pure insanity. You expected him to wrap his arms around you in a hug just bordering suffocating, kissing your neck and lamenting on how much he missed your presence. You thought you would have known better than to expect anything less than what was being displayed now, however, and you could barely contain your shudder when the front door practically swung open.

Edward was looking at you like he had just shot you in the chest, eyes glossy and puppy-like. Your stomach twisted with dread as he quickly closed and locked the door. The sound the key made almost caused sobs to ripple up your throat, as another chance at freedom was taken away from you with jangling keys and heaving breaths. His hand lingered on the knob for but a moment, before snatching his keys with terrifying swiftness. "I did something bad, angel." He shook his head, and you unconsciously took a step back. Knowing Edward, the sweet and innocent looking man in front of you, something bad could mean blatant domestic terrorism. You took a deep breath, knowing whatever he might have done happened in the past, and you had to put your concern on your own survival rather than trying to change what was already fact. You didn't want to even touch the ideas that were swirling around in your brain, pushing them back like they were broccoli on a child's dinner plate. At first, you explored the concepts of murder. Perhaps he did what he normally did using that persona of his - murdering various politicians he deemed to have failed him or his people, a position that could be right or absolutely deluded depending on the victim.

Though, there was a single counter idea that you couldn't seem to move no matter how hard you told it that it overstayed it's welcome in your brain. He didn't think his actions were "bad" by any means. Deep in thought, you squeezed your eyes with an almost painful tightness as if that would have done anything to help you. Now, you were back at square one, and your eyes stayed shut for almost a minute. Edward was watching you intently, and if you saw the look in his eyes you would have opened your lids and gave him the most reassuring smile you could muster.

Edward's legs wobbled violently, the man feeling as if he was shaking the walls and cieling when it was simply his own version of the room spinning. You were ashamed of him as far as he could tell, and the very concept of such was enough for his knees to temporarily cease functions. Bringing Edward to the ground with a large thud, your eyes snapped open only to see your captor on the floor crying and scratching at his throat.

If only you knew this would have happened when Edward let you out of your chains. Then you would have requested to stay in them.

Edward was in shambles. Absolute shambles. His burning obsession with your satisfaction completely overtook him today, and now here he was, knees giving out on him as his weight causes him to fall to the floor.Pathetically, desperately, he shuffled towards your standing form with his knees. He stopped at your feet, now looking up at you with a pathetic look in his eyes. He sniffled, the small sound quickly turning into a much louder one as Edward began choking on his own tears.

Frankly, you had no clue what he was so upset about, and you didn't want to push to learn. You wished to stay ignorant, and in a desperate attempt to soothe his own moral conscience you raised a trembling hand and placed it on the top of his head. His hair was soft, as well kept as it could be by a man of such crippling disorder, and you rubbed it as gently as you could. You could not hold back your fear, and you almost jokingly prayed the vibrations of your shaking served as a massager of sorts rather than green light to do unspeakable, vile things to you. Edward was a mountain out of molehill type of man, and if he seemed to think you were in any way afraid of him, the damages caused by his explosion could not be calculated.

You sucked in the sent of mold and mildew from your nose, wishing for a break from reality and doing your best to mentally place yourself in a place that was far away from whatever shithole your captor was renting out for you. Droplets echoed when they hit the floor, and each sound from that accompanied by the sounds of Edward's whines and whimpers made your dissociation harder to accomplish. Long adopting dissociation as a coping mechanism, you couldn't help but fix your focus on how unkempt wherever you were being kept was.

An unfixed ceiling dripping water on the carpet, documents and newspapers covering the ground in messy layers and stacks, Edward's arrangements for your home were just as manic as he was. Ripping you from your thoughts, you could hear Edward rambling under his breath, You wanted him gone, away from you and out of this room. Out of this city, out of your life, out of this reality. You weren't even concerned with being free anymore, as just being in a room different than the room he's in would be enough to satisfy your burning desire to be free.

"I shouldn't have smiled at her, (Y/N)." He said, shaking his head. He was disgusted with his own actions. According to that smile he gave, he'd much rather entertain whores than save such a smile for his partner. He knew it to be basic etiquette to give someone a smile, especially a waitress when they give you what you ordered. Edward was always focused on looking as unassuming as possible, so it seemed like the smart thing to do. Though, when he sat there, eating his ordered pie and truly letting his actions resonate in his head, he knew how badly he messed up. If you saw, you'd probably lose it at him, and he wouldn't have blamed you at all. He would have lost it himseld if he saw you smiling at someone else, so he would have completely got where you were coming from.

"She's a bitch, (Y/N), don't worry. I know what she's worth, and I know she doesn't compare to you. She's a whore. You're not, you're so much better than her. I know, I know." His delusional and rather sexist rant went on for a few more minutes, the man only stopping for brief moments to take a deep breath or to prove his devotion further by kissing your shoes. If this was some sort of cartoon, there would have probably been spirals in his eyes, and even that wouldn't have been enough to truly do justice to his insanity. You winced at his every move, disgusted moreso at his detachment from reality than at the smile he allegedly gave to that innocent woman.

You were glad Edward rewarded your good behavior with only a door and lock acting as your restraints now rather than the chair of the past. If you were tied, you wouldn't be standing right now, and god knows what other parts of your body he'd be kissing if you didn't have the physical freedom to retract away from him as much as possible without him noticing.

Refusing to take notice of your repulsion, he continued. "It's all they do. It's the only thing they're good at. They try and seduce you with smiles and then take you for their own whore desires. I'm so glad you're not like that, baby." He, once again, kissed your shoe. "I'm sorry for letting you down."

In an action devoid of any former warning, heapparently found the strength to scramble up. Your eyes were playing awful tricks on you out of terror, and you couldn't tell if he was shorter than you, around the same height, or towering over you like a predator about to eat it's prey. His eyes flashed with the colors of a mad-man, and his hands trembled with longing."You're not like them, (Y/N). All the others, you're not like them at all." He raised his shaking hands to cup your cheeks. "You're special. I'm so lucky to have you." Whispering now, all you could do is shake your head.

"Ed, this is so sick. This is fucked up, you can't think like that-"

He cut you off, eyes widening as he took your words as a direct rejection if his apology. "It's the only way to think. If nobody calls them out on what they do, then they'll just keep, they'll just keep getting away with it." He laughed, pitying your lack of realization regarding the society you both lived in. He was alright with being your teacher, though. He preferred such a job, in fact. "I let some bitch wriggle her way into what we have. I almost failed you. No, I DID fail you. If you don't forgive me, I understand." He said, sadly nodding. "I really do. I'll try and make it up to you by killing myself right in front of you." In a tone far too normal to truly represent what he was suggesting, he watched as your pupils shrunk and your head rapidly shook from side to side. Too far gone now to realize the vile error of his ways, he smiled at you and nodded.

"Suffocation is such a long way to die. It's exactly why it's never really a good idea to hang yourself." He giggled a little bit, and your heart sunk as possibilities for the future slammed against your psyche like an axe to a wooden door. "Nobody can ever get the distance right for the rope to snap your neck. So you're just left hanging there. You can try and claw the rope off when your survival instincts kick in, but you've already made your choice haven't you, doll?" He leaned in, pressing his lips against yours as if he just proclaimed love rather than threatened to take his own life.

"I..." Defeated, you kissed him back and only spoke your words when he gave you the parting chance. "I don't want that, Eddie. I forgive you." Edward only giggled. Happy with your response, he grabbed your hands and swung them around playfully.

"Those girls are all whores, right? Tell me you agree." Edward demanded sweetly, not nearly as successful in hiding the threatening undertones of his words as he hoped. Without any choice however, you nodded.

"They don't understand us, Eddie." Looking into his crazed eyes, pupils that painted your future as well as your past and present, never have you felt such an overwhelming sense of defeat. "And they never will."

#dano riddler x reader #riddler #paul dano riddler #riddler x reader #x reader #male yandere #yandere x reader #paul dano #yandere male #yandere #paul dano x reader #paul dano x you #danonation #riddler x you #the riddler x reader #edward nashton x you #edward nashton x reader #edward nashton

[horridly-plagued]

Dumb doodle to go with my really stupid rant!!

Lol I don’t think I’ve ever really been the type to have any sort of super bad reaction to pollen yesterday proved me hella wrong, I woke up to my ceiling fan literally having dropped a bunch of fucking dust onto me while I was sleeping and opening my window to let it out was not the fucking move because the pollen from outside was terrible- I ended up talking to a friend all yesterday and they took care of me for a majority of it I felt really bad the constant amount of sneezing fits I had didn’t cease until the end of the fucking night. I had left my room at one point and that had sorta eased up on it but I was still sniffly for a majority of the time despite being on call with multiple friends they kept asking me if I was ok because of how congested I sounded. Honestly probably worst allergy experience I’ve ever had literally the second I walked back into my room to sleep I ended up immediately feeling itchy as hell and the sneezing returned a lot faster then I had expected the amount of times I had been tricked with false starts yesterday night was fucking torturous!! But whatever I’m fine now and I didn’t wake up to 20 tons of dust being dumped onto me. It did make up for quite the odd scenario though given the fact I’m only slightly allergic to pollen but horribly allergic to dust I didn’t know the mix of the two would be so god damn rough to deal with. I’m still feeling the aftermath of it now congestion didn’t cease and while the sneezing has slowed a lot more the itch is still persistent. I can’t tell weather to think this is funny given my own personal situation or if this is just a cruel joke given my own personal situation. Fun either way thank you for listening to me ramble!!! Also uhhh oc art

Priest- Father Peste (that’s his name)

Plague doctor- Bernardo

Just if you wanted to know their names because I know I haven’t put it down yet

(This isn’t sneeze content but don’t even worry I’m fucking working on smth bbg……….)

#snz blog #snz fet #snz kink #snz things #snzblr #snzfucker #snz prompt #snzario #snz ocs

[mattypattypinky]

idk if I'm a hypochondriac or not but like I'll sit and while I'm alone, I'm constantly worried something bad will happen to me. Like, what if I have cancer that I don't know about? What if I have a certain amount of days to live, and each pain is a warning sign. A migraine for hours could mean my brain is going to explode. What if I have brain cancer? What if I die one day, not knowing I was going too. What if I fall asleep, and don't wake up. I'm just 18, I don't want to die. It's scaring me. Every little thing wrong with me could be pointing to a worse situation. I have constipation issues, I have headaches constantly, I can feel the skin on my body. I check my wrist veins, they're slightly less blue than usual. Slightly less large than usual. What if my heart stops? what if I have something wrong with my body, what if I have something deadly wrong with me? What if my kidneys are failing? What if I die from poor hygiene or my awful diet, what if I can't do anything to stop it. Will I live long enough to see my boyfriend in person? What if I don't. What if I die in a horrible car accident, because my dads too high to drive correctly? What my heart randomly just stops. What if I die? I'm so scared I'm gonna die. I don't wanna die yet, I'm too young. What if there's nothing after death? I don't know what I believe in. What if I don't believe in anything? What if when I die, I cease to exist? What if when I die, I DO go to hell because, I missed my chance to be saved or something. What if there is a heaven and I am not going to make it. What if there isn't? What if I waste my time on a belief that isn't real, only to die and become nothing? What if my back pain means my organs are failing? I'm so fucking scared. I really really want to be okay, I want to go to a hospital everyday and check everything, but I can't. What if there is something horribly wrong with me? What if I don't have time to act on it? What if I die. What if I can't meet my friends in person? What if I die and my friends suffer because I'm gone? What if I don't get off my ass, be brave, and take the chance to apologize to my ex best friend, for leaving, and being such a cruel person to her at her lowest? What if everyone leaves me, and I die a heavily hated person? What if I don't leave an impact on anything when I'm gone? Is my life meaningless? Pointless? Would life be fine even when I'm gone? Would everyone live on without me without a care or trace? I don't wanna die, I'm scared, im so fucking scared im only 18 but I'll be 70 in a blink of an eye will i even live long enough to be 70 what if i can't live these cute fantasies with my bfwhat if i die young and can't wake up and make him coffee what if he never gets to make ME coffee what if we never meet i have spasms in my skinwhat if my heart is stopping what if theres something under my skin what if there are bugs in my brain i have a roach infestation what if they lay eggs in my eears and eat me to death what if i die from a terrible paingul deiseasea d my last moments on earth are painful

#heavy vent #vent #hypochondria #hypochondriac #tw death #tw fear of death #fear of death #fear of illness #tw vent #tw heavy vent #mattypattypinkyposts