#like ....................... she looks at rose like nothing else exists in the universe but her

[hannie-dul-set]

YOU’RE MY BUCKET LIST.

p — SHEN QUANRUI x fem! reader. g — humor, fluff, lovestruck! ricky trying his darnest to be cool. w — swearing, secondhand embarrassment what did you expect from me. 2.8k words.

note — rewriting the backstory of his leopard print shirt. my loser idolverse is expanding. no one is safe. who should i throw into the depths of patheticness next.

ricky doesn’t believe in bucket lists.

what need is there for a list of things he wants and wants to do before he dies when he can get and do everything he wants in an instant? if he wants to go bungee jumping, he can go to gangwon-do this afternoon. if he wants to date, he’s got a couple dozen numbers he can pick and choose to call. if he’s craving for authentic italian wine right out of the cellar, he can book a flight and visit all of europe with his phone as his only luggage. 

he lacks nothing, and therefore he wants nothing. ricky doesn’t believe in bucket lists— he didn’t believe in bucket lists. at least not until that damned day of reckoning, when the nonexistence of his list suddenly came to existence, harboring one thing and one thing only. 

there’s only one thing he’d like to tick off before he dies. one thing he wants as soon as possible. something that isn’t instantaneously achievable. something that unfamiliarly feels out of his grasp.

ricky, more than anything in the world, wants you to take him fucking seriously.

“you’re so pretty today.” 

is what he says, the moment you enter the office. well, two moments after you enter the office because he had to take the first moment to admire how pretty you are before verbalizing it. he’s down horrendous, he knows— totally outside of the image he’s perfectly curated for the past six months since entering university. you’re the chair of his department’s council, a third year, and by some mystical force or another (read: being stupidly whipped) he volunteered to help prepare for a department event and managed to drag the rest of his friends into it.

said friends being gyuvin and gunwook, who are looking at him in judgment and disgust after completing his daily routine of complimenting your face.

“aw, how cute,” is your reply. ricky wracks his brain for another word for pretty, but you’re quick to move one and leave him in the dust. “thank you, ricky! you’re so sweet. anyway, matthew, how’s the—”

gyuvin snorts. “hey, at least she thinks you’re cute.” ricky throws him a punch but it falls weak from the mental damage. 

cute. he hates it. he’s grown to hate it after it became the symbol of you thinking of him as nothing but your cute junior. are his daily compliments not enough of a giveaway that’s he’s lowkey fucking in love with you? what else do you want? a truckload of roses? a barbershop quartet illustrating through song how stupidly down bad ricky shen is for his unbothered senior?

knowing you, even if he gets on stage in front of the whole university and perform a three-act play of how he fell, head first with scraped knees, into the tunnel of torture that is you and your pretty smile, you’d probably just ruffle his hair and coo, “good job! you’re so talented, angel!” because he’s so cute, so lovely, so never going to be boyfriend-able in your eyes and it eats his despairing soul.

maybe if he rips his heart out of his chest and you see the gaping, you-shaped hole it’ll leave behind, you might finally get the idea.

“quit being a drama queen,” gunwook says, throwing a ball at ricky’s bedroom door that’s been locked shut for a good hour now. it bounces right back into his palm and gyuvin is laying flat on the floor next to him. “it could be that she knows you’re into her, but she’s just trying to reject your advances gently because she doesn’t want to hurt you.”

gunwook and gyuvin hear a crash from inside ricky’s room. 

“that’s— that’s, no. i don’t even want to think about that!”

they’re waiting for him to finish changing (if he is just changing. the crashes in his room are becoming sources of concern). you invited them for a nice buffet dinner to celebrate the success of the event. however, the three of them are already thirty minutes late for the restaurant appointment, and hanbin had to come over and pick them up with taerae in tow after hearing the news that ricky shen— cool guy extraordinaire— is having a breakdown over a girl. 

there are now four men waiting in front of ricky’s locked bedroom. gyuvin gets sick and tired and starts banging on the door. “hurry up! do you want to keep the love of your life waiting?”

“damn, you guys were serious,” taerae posits. “is he actually in love with her?”

“i’m afraid so,” gunwook solemnly shakes his head. 

hanbin hits another concerned knock on his door, and lo and behold, ricky finally cracks open his bedroom door and walks out—

walks out in an ensemble that they can only unanimously describe as jarring. 

leopard print. leather pants. gold chain necklace. a pair of shades are hanging on the way too low cut shirt and they wonder if he’s gonna wear them indoors. he’s got a leather jacket folded over his arm and it’s twenty four fucking degrees.

“what do you think?” ricky asks, eyes proud, expectant, and sparkly. hanbin doesn’t have the heart to break it to him. “i read somewhere that the pattern symbolizes, uh, confidence and sexiness, i think. this will make her stop thinking that i’m cute, right?”

“yeah,” gyuvin replies. “she’ll think you’re hideous instead.”

“google tells me that the leopard print is a symbol of, and i quote, absolute femininity.” gunwook has his eyes trained on his phone. he looks up and gives ricky a once-over. “if you’re trying to go for the femme fatale look, then you’re doing a good job.”

it takes a moment for ricky to react.

when he does, his reaction consists of grabbing onto the hem of his allegedly ugly shirt and starts pulling it over his head.

“whoa, whoa, whoa— what are you doing?!”

gunwook quickly tries to stop him from stripping. gyuvin is laughing his ass off. taerae has a hand covering his mouth. hanbin is stressed. “quit picking on him! ricky, you look fine!” ricky is not fine. his styled hair is not disheveled and he’s visibly upset and sulking. gyuvin is losing his mind. he’s on the floor and hitting the ground.

“are you trying to be cute right now?” taerae asks. this just scrunches up ricky’s brows even more and makes his bottom lip jut forward.

“n...no…?”

“well, shit,” taerae laments. “it’s a genetic disease. she’s never gonna take you seriously.”

the only emotion ricky knows is despair.

he’s supposed to be hot and sexy and handsome, why can’t you see that? do you have a pink filter when you look at him, or something? is that it? that’s gotta be it, right? because why else would you be so unaffected when he feigns nonchalance, brushing through his hair at a precise timing when he notices you starting to turn to his direction. it’s your heart that should be beating like crazy when he greets you with a half-smile and a nod— not his, not his, not his when you return it with a full-smile, so bright and beaming, of your own.

“oh, you’re finally here!”

ricky doesn’t believe in bucket lists. he lives in the moment. he doesn’t want things so desperately to the point where he writes them down on a checklist taped to his desk. the list definitely doesn’t have the words “get miss department chair to fall in love with me” written on it with scrawled letters. and he doesn’t didn’t give himself a deadline to date you by the end of the year.

he’s given himself until the day he dies because the moment he met you was the first time he imagined watching someone walking down the aisle. 

yes, he’s down bad. yes, he sings hopelessly devoted to you in the shower five times a week and replaced the word you with your name. yes, gyuvin has a recording. 

“ah, we’ve been waiting for you, kids,“ you say once they’ve all settled on their seats. kids. he scoffs. insult to injury. he’s pouting and picking on a plate of galbi. he feels like shit even though you’re sitting right across him all pretty and sweet like the strawberry shortcake you ordered— which he’s trying his damn best to not steal a slice from because he’s pretty sure you’re just gonna go, “oh! you really like strawberries, don’t you? so cute,” and he’d much rather choose physical over emotional torment, thank you very much.

“they were caught up in something,” taerae responds to your initial statement. your eyes gloss over them with curiosity.

“why? what took you guys so long?”

four sets of eyes are on ricky and his patterned shirt. the bossam wrap in his mouth won’t swallow down his throat. it was too late for him to change out of the symbol of femininity. mid-strip, hanbin got a text from you so he got dragged out, guilty in leopard prints and gold, out of his apartment.

don’t you fucking dare, ricky glares at the suspicious look gyuvin is wearing as he brings a glass of water to his lips. gyuvin clears his throat, “we had to wait for ricky who was dressing to impress y—” and is subsequently elbowed and chokes on his water.

hot. ricky feels hot. not the sexy kind, but the icky embarrassing kind because he wants to cover his burning face and stab gyuvin with a fork in the process.

“oh?” you voice out from across the table. you’re plucking out wads of tissue paper for a dying gyubin but your eyes are trained on him. oh my god. he wants to rip this shirt off and die, but he can’t do that. he can’t. he hasn’t been working out enough lately due to stress. “not everyone can pull off animal prints. it looks really good on you.”

huh.

“and you’re not wearing your usual silver! you look cool today, ricky.”

oh.

what.

“you really think so?” gyuvin, who has now recovered, eggs you on further in behalf of his malfunctioning friend. there’s steam rising to the ceiling and it’s not from the open grill. he exchanges glances with gunwook and taerae. they catch the signal and press on. “doesn’t he look—”

“—would you dare say—”

“—handsome?”

“hot?”

“sexy?”

you let out something in between a cough and a laugh. 

they don’t miss the flustered jitter filtering the sound coming out of your throat.

mission success.

“ahaha, what are you kids saying?” ricky doesn’t miss it either. the initial shock of you not calling him cute has worn off and now it’s up to him to finish what his friends have started. he doesn’t miss the way you try to brush them off while fanning your face with your free hand, the way you reach out for a glass of water with the other and there’s a nervous bob in your throat when you swallow. “a—anyway, let’s make a toast for the success of our event!”

when he clinks his glass with yours, ricky  maintains eye contact amidst the noise of the cheers. his gaze is deep and you’re caught off guard— escaping with a laugh and turning away as you down half of your beer glass in one go. holy crap. holy shit, it’s working.

ricky can see it. there’s hope for his bucket list. he’s gonna swear by leopard shirts and gold chain necklaces if he continues to get this kind of reaction from you.

“it’s not because of the ugly shirt.”

gyuvin snaps him back to sanity once dinner concluded and they start leaving the restaurant. “it’s because we manipulated her brain waves into finally noticing that you’re hot,” gunwook inserts. they’re all outside now. you’re bidding the other members goodbye and gunwook nudges him forward. “you’re welcome. you owe us a meal.”

now, even with the newfound confidence and hope, ricky’s knees still buckle when he approaches you from behind. why is the back of your head still pretty? why?

at the moment, it’s taerae’s turn to receive your goodbyes, wedged between two cars, one of them his. he notices ricky’s looming nervous wreck of a presence from over your shoulder. “ah, and this is my cue to leave,” he says. “thanks for the meal, miss chair. get home safe.”

“you too, taerae! thanks!”

when you turn around, you bump into him. maybe he intended it, maybe not, but god damn the uncharacteristic flutter of your surprised eyes is destroying his plans to act cool, act nonchalant, act totally unaffected with how prettily you’re looking at him under the dim parking lot lights and the night sky. “oh!” you exclaim after reformatting, after putting on your doting senior voice again and it kills him because that’s a night of progress down the drain. “are you kids heading out now? oh, sorry, this is your car, right? i’ll get out of the way.”

he frowns. totally uncool, perfectly non-nonchalant, and completely affected but he doesn’t care anymore. 

“what do you think of me?”

the words jump out before he knows it. screw his bucket list. he’s gonna proclaim his undying love for you even if it kills him.

you blink. “what?” a laugh bubbles from your throat— a mix of trying-to-brush-him-off but nervous at the same time. “ricky, what do you mean?”

his face is knotting up. he’s totally pouting right now which he’d rather be caught dead than doing, but he’s now twice the dead man. ricky takes a step forward. you take a step back until no more steps can be taken because your back hits against his car, and he’s grasping at the straws desperate to get even an ounce of a hint of a sign that you’re finally taking him seriously. “what do you think of me?” he repeats, voice a little lower this time. your expression is completely taken over by peaches of fluster, this time. no sign of the composure you’ve usually perfectly maintained.

“oh, uhm.” your hands are unsure and held hostage in the air because his arms serve as a barricade around you, palms pressed tightly against the cold glass of the front seat window. you’re nipping at your bottom lip. ricky just died thrice. “what—what i think of you? well, uh, you’re a very good, very cute, very hardworking junior that i adore, and i—i appreciate all the help you’ve offered to the counci— oh!”

ricky lets out a noise and buries his nose into the crook of your neck, arms that were once caging you are now completely wrapped around your waist. he’s putting all of his weight onto you. he is a corpse. he mumbles something unintelligible into you skin and you ask him to repeat it. “i don’t like it,” he says more clearly, still muffled, whiney all the same. “i’m not cute. i’m cool and handsome and totally in love with you but you just don’t get it.”

it’s quiet. ricky is anticipating the worst, which would be you calling him lame and a loser, but you don’t do that. you don’t push him off either.

“how can i not think you’re cute when you act like this?”

instead you pull him in closer. his eyes widen, and he feels your fingers digging into his hair, a tender touch on his nape, and he feels himself melting and turning into stone at the same time. 

“i never thought you were being serious every time you greeted me by calling me pretty. i thought you were just being playful and trying to earn extra points from me,” you hum. he sinks further. the only thing propping him up is you. “but calling someone pretty every day is barely a confession, ricky. how was i supposed to get anything from that? gosh, you’re so cute.”

“it usually works,” he mumbles. he doesn’t want to show you his face. he probably looks stupid right now. “i thought my new shirt worked too. gyuvin and gunwook don’t agree.”

“i think it’s cool.”

you finally pry him off, hands on his shoulders and he feels himself buckling. he’s pretty sure he looks stupid right now— pink and flushed and dizzy, but your face harbors no judgment. “i think i prefer the shirt owner over the shirt though.” only a familiar gaze of fondness and god, he’s so in love and you finally understand that. “now, why the hell are gyuvin and gunwook still loitering out here?”

ricky didn’t believe in bucket lists. at least not until that damned day of reckoning, when the nonexistence of his list suddenly came to existence, harboring one thing and one thing only. 

now, he’s got that one thing crossed out. he’s thinking of adding more.

YOU’RE MY BUCKET LIST. © hannie-dul-set, 2023.

#zb1 x reader #zerobaseone x reader #shen ricky x reader #zb1 ricky x reader #zb1 imagines #zerobaseone imagines #shen quanrui imagines #shen ricky imagines #zb1 ricky imagines #zb1 fluff #zerobaseone fluff #shen ricky fluff #shen quanrui x reader #shen quanrui fluff #zb1 ricky fluff #zb1 scenarios #zb1 x you

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Second Chance 2

Warnings: non/dubcon, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Characters: Jonathan Pine

Summary: You move into your parents’ house as you try to rebuild your life, catching the attention of someone you never expected.

Part of the Brother’s Best Friend Universe

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.

The next day, you acquiesce to your mother’s whims. There was rarely a time when you could deny her and the times you did, had her often reminding you of your ‘rebellious’ teenage years. You don’t bother to mention that wearing black and not wanting to hold her hand in public wasn’t much of a rebellion.

You just have to remember that this isn’t about you. Tandi doesn’t yet know the storm she’s marrying into. You’ll let her have her grace period before it truly sets in. It could be seconds, it could be months, but eventually, your mother will turn the screw.

You walk behind the pair through the crowded rows of the farmer’s market. They almost seem to forget you but that doesn’t bother you. You prefer it.

They stop at the soap booth and the battle of scent threatens to trigger a migraine. You hold your breath until Tandi finishes her purchase; some body scrub and a piece of soap that looks like a fruit parfait. Your mother opts for her own collection of cinnamon heart soap bars. You wonder where she’ll hide them as she only ever allowed white items in the bathroom; down to the soap and the shampoo.

“Do you have friends coming for the party then?” Your mother asks as they stroll along.

“Uh, yes, hopefully they can make it,” Tandi answers, “work and all that.”

“Of course, that’s understandable but it’s a very important event,” your mother chirps back, “do you have something to wear? You would look marvelous in rose.”

“I have some options,” your brother’s fiancee flick her hair back. “I was thinking it might be nice to do a brunch, rather than a dinner.”

“Oh, that’s wonderful. And of course,” your mother pauses, peering back over her shoulder as she recalls your mournful existence, “we can help.”

“That’s so sweet,” Tandi purrs.

“Well, you know, we haven’t much going on.”

You frown. It’s an obvious jab at your current predicament. It isn’t as if you haven’t been trying. You filled every open job posting you can find and haven’t heard back from a single one. Yet, your mother would never believe you to be helpless, just lazy.

“I’m going to find the bathroom,” you mutter but neither seems to hear or care.

You break away from them and delve into the crowd. You feel desolate in the roiling crowd. You don’t miss Ransom, or Hugh, or whatever he wanted you to call him that day, you just miss having someone else. Someone by your side to face the outside world. 

He never really was that, was he? You just convinced yourself he was. He settled for you and you thought that was good enough. You made yourself believe you were good enough.

You find the bathrooms and hide inside. You don’t need to go, you just need to get your shit together. You take out your phone and put on your rationed data so you can check your emails. Junk, junk, junk… ‘Invitation to Interview’. Huh.

You quickly scroll and scan the email, not wanting to waste the data. It’s nothing special, nothing as glorious as your previous job. It’s a customer service role at the local travel planner, a vibrant business among the burgeoning retirement community. It’ll have to do.

You flip the switch to disconnect from the network and emerge to wash your hands. You make your way back into the market and search among the tides. You wander in circles until you find the duo. They sit at the cafe bar in the corner, drinks in front of them, and a set of half-eaten scones. They didn’t wait for you or even think to grab you something.

You shrug it off. You think you might have been wrong. Again. Your mother isn’t going to bulldoze this daughter, no, Tandi is going to be the daughter she never had. Jaydon always was her favourite; the infallible baby boy.

💋

You accept the invitation. The pay is barely above minimum wage and the role is tedious but it’s all you’ve got. You don’t tell your parents, not wanting to disappoint them. It would be better to surprise them with good news, not let them down with another failure.

You find the nicest skirt you could salvage in your hasty retreat from the city. You sneak out through the back as the rest of the house delights in their perfect fairy tale. You’d rather have a stuffy interview than to bear another day of fake smiling and dulled blades aimed at your throat.

The agency isn’t very far. The bus takes you to the core of the town and your heels click down the half-block to the storefront painted with palm trees and beach umbrellas. You peek inside before you enter and check the information on your phone just to be sure. You’re early.

A woman named Brenda greets you and tells you to wait in the seats meant for clients. You fidget as the clock ticks in the quiet office until she finishes with the old couple at her desk in the tight cubicle. They leave, happy, and she invites you back.

It isn’t anything beyond the usual; what will you bring to this job? When’s a time you had to be spontaneous? How would you handle a disgruntled customer? You recite the acceptable answers and at the end, she offers you the job. You don’t think it’s because you’re anything exceptional but judging by the two-hundred days the posting’s been up, there hasn’t been much interest. You both are ready to take the first thing that comes along.

She sends you off with a smile and you try not to let your fake one fall before you’re out of the office. Out of the sight of the windows, you let your shoulders drop and sigh. It’s good news, you got a job, but somehow you think your parents will find a damper. ‘How much does it pay? What do you do? Oh, that’s a starter job.’

Well, dad, mom, I am starting over. I fucked up. I built nothing but a disaster.

You round the corner and stumble as suddenly you hit a wall you don’t expect. You stagger until you’re caught by firm hands around your upper arms. You gulp and your eyes round as they meet another pair, blue and bold. Jonathan grins as he issues an apology and your own tumbles off your tongue.

“I wasn’t… looking,” you murmur.

“Quite alright,” his hands linger on your arms and you wriggle. “Neither was I.”

He laughs at himself and you look down at his hold on you. He squeezes before he lets go and drops his hands to his side. He tucks them into his pockets. He’s dressed effortlessly in a pair of gray slacks and powder blue pullover.

“Special occasion?” He wonders as he looks you up and down.

You peek at your skirt. It’s nothing special. Pinstripe, black, pencil cut. It doesn’t fit you the way it used to. You think Ransom noticed that too…

“Job interview,” you shrug.

“Oh, exciting. So when do you hear back?”

You rub your neck and sway. He’s just being nice. He’s always been polite, on the outside, but you saw the antics he got up to with Jaydon. He always had that charming grin for your mother but never hesitated to cause chaos with your menace of a brother.

“You don’t have to ask. Really. It’s not a big deal.”

“Mm, well, what if I genuinely want to know?” 

There he is, that oppositional twerp. You blow out between your lips and smile, “I got the job. It’s at the travel agency so… big whoop.”

“Big whoop indeed,” he remarks, “I’d say we should celebrate with a drink but I’d also say you sound like you need one. Desperately.”

You meet his eyes again. You squint. Was he always this handsome? Or is that another trick of time? You pack on some love handles and you look chronically tired, but his lines only refine him, his age becomes him.

“That’s nice but I should head home.”

“Why? So you can listen to Jay brag about his convertible? Even I’m over that. He’d do better with something economic but he always knows best, doesn’t he?”

You scoff, “wow, sounds like you had quite the reunion.”

“Well, time changes us all,” he says, “but you always were more fun to drink with.”

#jonathan pine #dark jonathan pine #dark!jonathan pine #jonathan pine x reader #drabble #series #second chance #brother's best friend #the night manager

[karume-everything-else]

Flufftober 2023

Day 13: Falling asleep against them [Reader x Jasper] {Steven Universe/ Future}

Steven was still getting used to the fact that Jasper would randomly show up at his house for no other reason than to hang out with you. It was doubly weird to him given that you were a human like him, not exactly like him but close enough that the collapse of the Diamond authority wasn't too long ago. Seeing gems mingling with humans was still a foreign concept to him given how long it took for Pearl, Garnet, and Amethyst to do so.

But here you were, the only other person besides Connie who was even allowed near the temple for some bizarre reason. And sitting in Jasper's lap no less, watching a movie on your phone.

As much as he wished you'd ignore him, "Oh hey Steven, what's up?"

"Hm? Oh, nothing [Name]. Just passing through, need to use the portal is all." He shuffled awkwardly to the stairs, not liking the look he was getting from Jasper, "What are you guys doing here?"

"Watching a movie." Jasper answered, "About this massive green guy getting stranded on some weird gladiator world."

"Oh, cool. Cool." Steven couldn't leave fast enough there was no polite way to ask you two to leave, "Uh, if Connie comes by could you tell her I went to Homeworld again?"

"Sure thing!"

Steven scurried off, it was so weird. You were practically pure sunshine versus Jasper being a literal bully. But at least she wasn't trying to hunt Steven down and call him 'Rose' anymore.

You wiggled, stretching a bit in Jasper's lap before leaning back against her chest. It was weird how a being made of light felt like it had genuine mass behind it. But then again, it wasn't like Jasper was like the typical gemstones typical found on Earth. There was some kind of alienetic component that made her a sentient gem after all.

"So, this planet..." Jasper shifted, resting an arm in your lap, "Do you think it still exists?"

"Uh... I don't think it ever existed in the first place." You tilted your head back at her, "It was created to be a purely fictional place, at least I think it was. Not sure how many humans know there is alien life. At least outside of Beach City."

Jasper hummed softly, watching the screen intently. You could only sit back and relax. Not that it was a difficult task, just one that made you sleepy.

Before Jasper could ask something else about the movie, she heard you snoring. Glancing down, she saw how you'd fallen fast asleep. Weird, considering how you seemed perfectly awake a few moments ago. Or maybe you'd been exhausted from something else and she just failed to notice. Either way, she let you be.

There were worse fates than having an... unreasonably cute human fall asleep in her lap like this. It wasn't like Jasper needed sleep after all...

#x reader #jasper steven universe #steven universe future #steven universe #jasper su #su #suf #su x reader #jasper x reader #jasper #flufftober 2023

[angelkakewritings]

His magnum opus.

Karl Heisenberg x Virgin!Reader

One shot!|| NSFW

Pronouns used: she/her/hers | no use of y/n

Disclaimer: I do not own the canon character of Karl Heisenberg’s or any of the canon characters or canon lore or the Resident Evil universe !

CW: Heavy religious themes! (No mentions of any specific religious figure ) fictional renditioning of worship, virginity loss, cult, cult like worship, cursing, mentions of smoking, power imbalance, female reader, choking, brief use of Karl’s power, fingering, unprotected sex, dirty talk, breeding, semi-public, use of google translate for one dialogue!

Author’s Note: The following story does contain heavy religious themes but does not depict any actual faith or religious figure! Its all liberties taken from the story telling that resident evil:village provided! Please read with caution! reader is a shrine maiden to mother Miranda and is now the subject of interest and desire for Karl Heisenberg! Listened to a lot of rammstein and ghost while writing this! Enjoy!

Pleasure.

The word was too threatening, too unruly and too carnal to fit into her sanctimonious world that was filled with precious hymns, the burnt flesh of sacrifice and utter devotion to the divine Mother Miranda, the holy overseer of her village. 

From a tender age, she had been one of the select few young women who had been chosen to undergo sound religious training to devote mind, body and spirit to serve their lords as shrine maidens.

“Dear Mother Miranda, forgive us our sins. Dear Mother Miranda, forgive us our sins. Dear Mother Miranda, forgive us our sins.” The sweet sonnets of forgiveness left her beestung lips in between the gentle yellow flickering of the match held between her fingertips, dutifully lighting the flora coated stick of incense in dedication to Lady Donna Beneviento. 

The lit match revealed how her appearance starkly contrasted her dreary, corpse filled, cold village. 

A vision of veiled whites accompanied by a pair of doe eyes, pouty lips and rose flushed cheeks.

She was lovely.

She was lively

She was pure.

Gracefully, she lowered herself to her knees in front of the portraits of the four lords of the village, exposing her bare ankles that were wrapped in rosary beads made from precious metals and ended with the sigil of Mother Miranda.

Every night would start and end the exact same way, an existence made to eat and breath worship left nothing else to chance. But tonight, faith would challenge the structured way of life for the shrine maiden as the large, wooden doors crept open.

The cruel winds of winter pierced her skin, abruptly silencing her tranquil worship to turn her head around. Like a deer at the end of the hunter’s arrow, her eyes widened in disarray and awe at seeing the broad form of the fourth and most dangerous Lord of the village who was standing before her.

“Don’t let me stop you, you made that filth sound pretty.” His baritone voice spoke while looking down at the young woman, wisp of smoke from his cigar left his mischief curled lips.

“Keep going.”

“Lord Heisenberg.” She gasped out, bringing herself up to her feet.

She wasted no time in bowing her head.

It was almost ridiculous how he towered her.

“None of that nonsense…” He trailed off, using the tips of his fingers to lift her chin up towards him, ”I want to see you.” 

His demand caused her eyes to flutter open towards him, looking at him in pure reverence.

She trembled at the weight of his eyes gazing over her, unconscious to the fact of how enthralled he was in the way her beauty managed to shine through the lace of her veil that was meant to conceal and shy her away from the rest of the world.   

It was heartbreaking to see how ethereal she was, too ethereal to be amongst the foolish, crazed and homely villagers.

When Heisenberg first laid eyes on her, he wanted to hate her, he wanted to be repulsed by the idea of her. 

How could he not? The young woman was beloved by Mother Miranda, a prodigy of her strict training and mindless preaching.

The hellfire colored flames of hatred simmered into infatuation and obsession.

In between the long ceremonies and spitfire sacrifices, the maiden would bare an air of sweetness to her, even going as far as looking and treating the moronic freak of Moreau with a glimmer of kindness to her eyes. 

Perhaps, the hatred he bore was towards Miranda for ensnaring the woman in a gilded cage.

Amongst the long and tedious rules of the shrine maiden, the young women were stringently instructed to not create any sort of conversation with the lords as it was an insult and unbecoming, they were simply tasked to be seen but not heard.

Karl found a loophole through Miranda’s rules, as per usual.  With a simple request of having his cigar lit, he managed to have her close to him. Gradually, they were no longer strangers to each other and no fools in each other’s hushed advances, their eyes always intensely met each other while she lit his thick cigar, how his hand met the curve of her hip and how her fingers caressed his wrist while he inhaled the ashy and sultry notes of his vice.

“We shouldn’t be doing this.” She hushed out, her words betrayed by her own body as she grew feverish and melted in the cup of his large hand.

“Afraid mother goose is gonna walk right in?” He hummed out, enjoying the sensation of heat pooling at the pit of his loins at witnessing how she was falling under his touch.

Her eyes darted towards the goliath sized statue of her mentor, the sudden weight of her vows caused her chest to heave up and down.

“There’s nobody here but us.” He reassured her, lulling her back into him.

She was now a small bird in the palm of his hand.

The space was now closed between them, the colored stain glass reflected like a kaleidoscope against their skin. His leather cladded fingers traced the softness of her cheeks and flowed down to her jawline.

“I’ve never been kissed before.” She quietly confessed, her face dusted in pink at the intensity of the shared atmosphere.

The words could’ve brought him to his knees at that very moment.

“There’s nothing to it, liebling.” He grinned, “But, I won't do anything that you don’t want to, just say the word and I’ll leave.” 

The proposition was strong yet delicate enough to give courage to the butterfly to break free from its chrysalis. She pressed forward, frightened yet marveled at her own sentience away from Mother Miranda’s all seeing eye.

Heisenberg relishes in how feather soft her lips was against his scarred ones.

Dissolving into the wave of the kiss, she pressed her silky body into his. Even through the thick material of her bodice, he could feel how her heart skipped beats like the foot of a rabbit bouncing against the winter snow. 

Their limbs tangled, the overwhelming sensation of hand against flesh and their shared lust had caused Karl to pick her up with the utmost care, treating her like fine china with the deep rooted fear he might break her in a million different pieces if mishandled. 

Upon draping her down, he took his sunglasses off to get a better look at her. 

She looked exquisite on top of the stone altar dedicated to the sacrifices given to Miranda, her eyes were dreamily blown out ,her veil falling off of her head and her lips now wet and swollen from their kiss.

“I want you, all of you…” She spoke, looking up at her lord through dewdrop wet eyelashes.

The maiden’s command fell into a plea, one that drove Heisenberg into further madness and sent a jolt of electricity to his cock that was already raw and vulgarly straining against his pants.

He caressed her cheek, “I want you to be sure, sweet girl.” His accent thickly jumped off each syllable his tongue made.

“Please, I know there’s more to this provincial existence…” She trailed off, he watched on with his mouth agape as her legs parted and fell on each side of the table. “I just want someone like you to prove it to me.” 

The supplication was shameless, agonizing and yearnful in nature, it was perfect enough to give permission to Karl to sweetly comply. 

With the raise of his hand and in god-like manner, he lifted her rosary cladded ankle up to him and into the grasp of his hand, making haste to her frock and pooling it up towards her waist.

“Does Miranda know that her sweet girl walks around her altar without any underwear?” He tsked out, beginning to trace around the bridge of her pubic bone, in awe at how the glow of the candle light made the slick of her arousal glisten.

“Are you gonna punish me for it, my lord?” She cooly asked, looking towards her superior with half lidded eyes, his free hand beginning to coil and flex at the nape of her neck like a python. 

“So ein dreckiges Mädchen…you’re gonna learn to love every second of it.” He hummed, beginning to knead the bundle of nerves between her legs.

The temperature of her body began to rise as Heisenberg began to work his fingers into her, prodding and probing into her wet cunt. The halls of worship echoed with the vulgar squelching and the sound of the maiden descending further and further into the forbidden concept of pleasure.

“You’re trembling, bunny…” He leaned forward to press a kiss on her open mouth, her hitched breath soft and delicate like the breath of a phantom against the stubble of his beard. The hand on her neck served as an anchor, keeping her in place as her body began to twitch and contort in stinging excitement at the knot undoing itself in her lower belly.

The girth of his fingers began to pound against the spongy, sweet flesh of her cervix like a square hammer against white milky bone, destroying her essence and leaving her a mess of sopranoesque notes ripping from her throat and a canvas of Monet like swatches of sweat and pinks.

A baritone laugh rumbled from his chest at the exquisite realization that Mother Miranda would never be allowed to lay eyes on how exquisite and divine her shrine maiden looked upon her own altar.

“I want you! Please, take me already!” She cried out on top of the stone hill.

Gripping the back of her neck, he silenced her plea with the sting of a kiss.

The decibels of boney, ivory teeth clashing against each other was accompanied by the buckle of his belt tinkling and chittering while being pulled apart, revealing the bulbous nature of his erect manhood. 

His large body crashes into her, consuming and filling her to the brim of himself. The shrine maiden writhes and begins to whine and moan out into the night as he begins to thrust away.

Like the pluck of a harp, his movements were precise and intuitive enough to draw out the loveliest sounds. 

“Look at me, liebling.” He groans out, grabbing her face to force her eyes wide open. “This is what you wanted, yes, hm?” 

Frantic, in pure anguish and ecstasy, she nods.

“Use your fuckin’ words, I know you can my sweet girl.” 

“I’ve wanted you to ruin me for so long now.” The woman pants, hyperfixated in the manner his dog tags were swinging in front of her face, “I want you to claim me with your seed and take me away from her.” She mewls out.

In the sweet realization Karl had successfully broken her, his head fell back.

The world felt minute in that very moment, he felt as if he could swallow the world and his ungodly creations whole with no consequence, no burden on his wicked conscience. He wanted nothing more than to keep the angelic like woman safe with him and carry her every step he made.

He pulled apart their tethered bodies, beads of his seed and her slick corded the two together.

Karl took one final look at her, a concoction of his cum dripping out of her and her body littered in bruises and tattered in what was once white fabric, she was perfect in his eyes.

She was his magnum opus.

#fanfic #just for fun #oneshot #my writing #karl heisenberg #karl heisenberg x y/n #karl heisenberg x reader #smut #re village #resident evil fanfiction #resident evil

[klausbens]

i'm getting used to the idea that my opinions in this fandom will often be the opposite of whatever the general public seems to think, but i thought human nature and family of blood were just... okay. they're very... charming episodes, to be sure, the storyline is novel and the sets, cinematography, costumes and acting are great, i just feel like it left me feeling bitter more than it left me thinking ‘oh, that's a nice episode!’

this, of course, mostly resides in how martha was treated as a character. after two episodes which, more or less, seemed to highlight her qualities and actions and existence beside her feelings for the doctor, we're back at it. and i'm tired of martha being sandboxed in them. and i know that's the whole thing with her storyline, but it's so hurtful to witness over and over how she'll basically never be enough for the doctor, no matter the universe—mostly because so little of it rings true to me. i do not believe ten would never look at her twice. i do not believe there is no way he could fall for her. i do not believe he doesn't like her. he surely likes her enough to flirt with her, and the writers have such fun planting all those little innuendos in his dialogue toward (or regarding) her, but it's like they take some sort of perverse pleasure out of then shutting the door in her face and trying to make the audience believe that's rightful and that she has no reason to be hurt by it. it's exhausting.

martha does have the single most important role here, as she does in quite the number of episodes in her run as the companion. i always joke that the doctor would have regenerated 53 million times if it wasn't for martha, but that's actually not much of a joke. she's saved him so many times. and when, at the beginning, the doctor asks her whether she trusts him, what he really should've done is he should've told her “i trust you”, because the whole thing boiled down to martha having to fix his mess and the doctor 100% believing she would. at least he said something about everything being in her hands, which could be counted as implicit admission of trust, but yeah. the dialogue implying she is the one to have to trust that the doctor will come back to her, despite having to be the one to make him come back, is just...

i adore ten. he is the reason i started watching the show—well, tennant is—and i felt his absence so much during these two episodes that when john smith briefly spoke in the tenth doctor way of speaking my heart grew three sizes, but there's something deeply... off with his characterization at times. or maybe it isn't off, as such, just his flaws are highlighted a lot more than other doctors'—which is fine, per se, he's a 900+ old alien i don't want, need nor expect him to be perfect. it's just, coupled with the questionable general arc of this season with martha and him always in this wobbly, awkward spot between friendship and something else, and the way they seem to use martha as a cushion to fall back onto and punch when the doctor fucks up, it leaves a bad aftertaste in my mouth i guess. specifically because i think too much, and i often think about how so many people dislike martha for things that have so little to do with her and so much to do with the absence of rose, the faults of the doctor and the disservice the writers did to what could've been—and has been, if you look at her—an amazing character. a widely beloved one.

you know what, the episode would have been fine. john smith wasn't the doctor, he had this thing with the nurse or whatever, fine. part of the plot, i guess, was that of course he wouldn't have wanted to give humanity up, and what better reason not to want that than to feel love while trapped as a human? fine. but what i don't really get, and what makes me feel a little sick to my stomach actually, is the ending. where he goes back and talks to joan and asks her, or really, when you think about it, tries to manipulate her into coming with him. that's nothing new, the doctor is pretty manipulative and always has been, but he usually uses the allure of space-time travel and breathtaking sights and incredible adventures to basically kidnap his companions like some sort of old ass peter pan, and he's honest with it. he does genuinely think, every time, that what he'll offer the people he takes with him is so much better than whatever they might be thinking of doing with their lives that they will ultimately be happy they followed him. and they are, until they aren't, because that's the tragedy in doctor who for you, but here. here, he uses feelings. he uses joan's feelings for john and somehow promises her he's still capable of whatever john was, including falling for her. and why would he do that. that's just mean. to joan, to martha, hell, even to himself. i really have absolutely no clue what they were trying to do with this scene except, as i said, highlighting his flaws. because he knows damn well. he knows damn well that, even if he were to fall for her, she'd have to leave or die and it would break both of their hearts. that's the whole theme with him, isn't it? i thought it was. he's just experienced that with rose and he's keeping everyone at arms-length because he doesn't want it to happen again, and that's understandable. but then he goes and does this. i don't know. i simply don't know. there's also the whole thing where joan tells him she wants nothing to do with him, because she's in love with john—not some doctor—and he, the doctor, has caused so much harm choosing that specific place in space-time to hide. and the thing is, he's so creepy in that whole scene. when he speaks to her, the things he says, how he says them, how he looks at her when she calls him out. amazing acting, but there's something so dark about him in these episodes that i can't help but want to crawl out of my skin.

one might argue that he tried to get her to come with him because he remembered what john felt for her, or at least what happened between them. and that's further sustained by them hinting at him remembering what martha said to him about him being everything, and her loving him to bits. but that just makes it feel more gratuitously mean to everyone involved (so, ten as well), and steeps the two episodes in this... bitterness, which takes from the overall enjoyment. for me, at least.

there's also other things i disliked about the ep, like when in the video the doctor tells martha ‘you. don't make me leave you behind’ which kind of sounds like he was expecting he would? same way as he was expecting he'd hurt people because that's what humans do, which i agree with, but why underline the fact that he was potentially going to leave her? of course she would have stayed close in order to make him turn back to himself, i don't think that really needed saying. that's just one of the little jabs to martha the writers love to insert in scripts. thing is, i despise them! anyway, the post is long as it is, just—if there's one thing i loved (and it wasn't nearly enough to make up for the rest, but,), it was the way ten hugs martha after he tells her ‘thanks for looking after me’. with his eyes closed and that genuine, childlike smile. engulfing her completely. i so wish things had gone differently between them.

#doctor who #tenth doctor #martha jones #tenmartha #david tennant #freema agyeman #10th doctor #doctor who meta #meta

[goferwashere]

wait srry if asks rnt open but im a chismoso so hopefully this is OK to ask ;; is the little character in ur banner and pfp ur sona ? they r so silly looking i love it sm but also why is it chowing down on a hotdog bun filled with butter . DONT ELABORATE IF THERES A PERSONAL BACKGROUND ATTACHED TO IT PLS but i srsly think it's so cutesie and ive been curious abt it 4 a hot min ✝️

SAW THE NOTIFICATION AND I ROSE FROM THE DEAD BUGGY U JUST OPENED THE GATES OF HELL /POS

ALSO ASKS ARE ALWAYS OPEN!! UNLESS THE BUTTON IS GONE FEEL FREE TO SEND ME ASKS ANYTIME I LOVE GETTING THEM :DD

ASHSHSSH THANK YOU !!! Yes this is my sona her name is RB 😋 she has lore and comes from her own world but I use her like a persona :3

Here’s the OG image along with a couple others of her :D

Also her as a character can’t speak so she uses ASL to communicate (hence the banner she’s holding) so I don’t use ASL but I do use a website when I draw her speaking

funny ass gif lawllll (she’s signing ‘I am not a crook’) (yes TV Girl reference) the frame rate is too fast but I can’t fix it now

ALSO ALL OF THIS ART IS OLDER. NOTHING NEW FOR THESE GUYS FOR A WHILE I NEED TO MAKE NEW ART FOR THEM 💔💔

auughhh and her lore if you wanna read below but I understand that OC lore isn’t everyone’s thing

OKAY SO she comes from a universe where her kind are robots made by a company to terraform planets for the ultra wealthy. So if you have the funds you can purchase a whole planet and whole armies of these little bots will shape it however you want.

BUT. While on the assembly line, before even recovering her directive, a portal opens up and throws her into this odd pocket dimension, which is just a half built city floating in a bright void. (Also when I say half finished I mean more like brutalist aesthetic with just concrete and no glass on the windows)

This place (named ‘Gearsky’ by locals because massive floating gears are the only thing that exist here outside of the city itself) is full of people from their own dimensions just trying to get by. She explores, and comes across a little bear being picked on in an alleyway. (The lil green bear [party bear] in the pics above)

She saves him and then it subconsciously becomes her prime directive to help Party Bear get home/care for him. So they set up base in one of the empty apartments and she just sorta takes care of him.

NOW. How do you get home you may be asking? Well it’s easy. You just need to beat someone in a deathmatch.

Enter the only form of entertainment on this island. The man who is the dictator of this place and subsequently the host of this game, aptly named Host, loves running this game. The rules are simple. 3 people enter, and two can leave alive. Only one needs to die, and the other two can get sent home. The only thing is, you have no idea who you’re going up against.

Now, RB, being a bot made to terraform, has some power behind her with her explosive abilities. But Party Bear has no defenses. So RB tries to strike a deal with Host.

She offers to kill both people in the ring with her for multiversal travel.

Host is intrigued by this offer, and accepts. After wiping the floor with her opponents, she’s granted access to all dimensions. She’s obviously excited and goes home to try and let Party Bear go home, but is heartbroken when she discovers that she’s the only one who can travel using the portals.

But this catches the attention of someone else.

Her future boss.

Another robot, by the codename TB-89.

He took note of her deal, and approached her with a job offer.

Man’s long story short she works for him as an assassin!

There’s so much more I wanna say but I know I can’t ramble on forever lol if you read all this then thank you so much for sticking it out 🤭 I hope you enjoyed it I love gushing about my characters

#THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU FOR ASKING THIS #I NEVER GET TO YAP LIKE THIS #oc artwork #my oc’s #oc animation #oc lore #persona lore #sona lore #idk how to tag this #gofers !! art

[rearranging-deck-chairs]

thinking about clara telling 12 he made courtney feel not special and 12 at the end of the lie of the land telling bill “because in amongst seven billion, theres someone like you” and bill looking like

and 11 telling rita in the god complex "offer a child a suitcase full of sweets and they’ll take it. offer someone all of time and space and they’ll take that too. which is why you shouldnt” in that fucking self-flagellating but also proud way they do and rita says “i dont know what youre talking about but whatever it is, i have a feeling you just did it again” because they did

they know they know they know what they do and clara didnt have to tell them theyve been doing this long enough they know. and they dont like it but theyre not gonna stop doing it either which must be Great for the self-worth feelings. they have a job to do and they cant stop doing it but they also cant do it alone but also anyone they take with them will most likely get hurt or die

this is nothing new but it’s just. im thinking about the way they do it. the way they absolutely know the effect they have on people. “you make people want to impress you. you make it so they dont want to let you down”

how casually 12 throws out that line, so genuine, i 100% believe it feels true when they say stuff like that, but also bill just had a Bad 6 months. he didnt have to say this. bill asked why he puts up with humans he could say something nice about humanity as a whole, but he doesnt, he singles her out, “i put up with the rest of them because sometimes theres someone like you”. it’s sweet and i dont think it’s a lie and i dont even think it’s a conscious manipulation but like

it’s just like, a really good way to keep people with you when you make them feel like theyre at the centre of the universe like that. the universe revolves around the doctor and when youre in the eye of the storm with them youre so special. you know more than regular people, you get to know all the secrets of the universe, you get to know about aliens, you get to play hero along with them!

ROSE: I can't tell her. I can't even begin. She's never going to forgive me. And I missed a year. Was it good? DOCTOR: Middling. ROSE: You're so useless. DOCTOR: Well, if it's this much trouble, are you going to stay here now? ROSE: I don't know. I can't do that to her again, though. DOCTOR: Well, she's not coming with us. ROSE: No chance. DOCTOR: I don't do families. [...] ROSE: My mum was right. That is one hell of an age gap. Every conversation with you just goes mental. There's no one else I can talk to. I've seen all that stuff up there, the size of it, and I can't say a word. Aliens and spaceships and things, and I'm the only person on planet Earth who knows they exist.

being the object of the doctor’s affection is i think probably a bit of a horrifying experience and not a position you really want to be in, but as long as youre still in that Comments About How Theyre Putting Up With All Of Humanity Because They Like You stage and havent yet reached the Tearing The Sky Apart For You stage, it probably feels really good (do i look susceptible to companion syndrome in this post hkfjghj)

and like i said it’s not that they dont actually love their companions. of course they do. it’s just that if youre terrified of being abandoned, making people feel special like this is a good way to make them not leave you

and i think 13 probably did her best not to do this again. she didnt invite them along to new adventures at the end of 11x1. she initiates goodbyes i think three times (”ive stayed too long, i should get back to finding my tardis”, “im almost gonna miss you”, “guess we’re done, nice having you aboard”) before the fam ask to come with her

and sure she plays the kicked puppy a bit in 11x4 but she waits for yaz to invite her, shes relatively passive, actually for the doctor shes incredibly passive. and she enjoys letting them into the tardis in 11x2, but she doesnt tease really secrets and wonders if they come travel with her. she doesnt really introduce them to the tardis, she doesnt say what the name means, she doesnt let them touch anything, nobody says “it’s bigger on the inside”, she doesnt invite them to all of time and space. she doesnt suggest it could be theirs to see. i dont think she ever does. just what the fam got to see accidentally was already enough to convince them.

i really need to rewatch so i might be wrong about this, but i dont think she ever makes them feel special the same way the doctor did with companions before. she makes them feel special like a tour guide maybe, with her little points and stars system, and calling them best friends, small mundane ways that dont show off her age or history or influence. i dont think she ever suggests theyre more important than other people. i think she emphasises her love for humans as a whole. i think thats the impression they get from her. i think thats what they would say if you asked them about her. “yeah she loves humanity. me? yeah she probably likes me, we’re friends”

she never puts them in a position where theyre the only one who can save the day/world/planet/universe. she always puts herself between them and the problem. she always goes ‘no im the doctor, thats my job’. she takes that responsibility so they dont have to. they take it! when they feel like theyre forced to! when the doctor’s gone in 12x2 or 12x10, they take that responsibility for sure. i think they want to, not just yaz but especially yaz. but they feel unprepared. the doctor hasnt prepared them for this bc she doesnt want them in that position bc in that position they die.

and clearly this has not been ideal. this has not led to an ideal doctor-companion dynamic, we’ve seen how this has hurt 13 as well as especially i think yaz and ryan deeply. but the strategy has been succesful. she lost her last two companions bc she didnt get between them and the problem. with bill literally, with clara metaphorically. (going back even further this might also be the case for amy and donna and rose. she let them into positions she should have been in taking decisions she should have taken)

and however badly things have gone for 13, the strategies of Get Between Them And The Problem, and Be The Doctor Dont Let Them Do It, have WORKED. she GOT THEM HOME. if yaz doesnt die, and im willing to bet money she doesnt, she got them all home safe and sound

14′s relationship with their companions will probably be a response to what went wrong in this round and it will have its own pitfalls that 15 then gets to fix but theyre trying, theyre learning. one step forward two steps back i guess. a fun little tango with death

#im curious to see how 14's relationship with their compainons will look #and how they introduce themself #and how the companion ends up travelling with them

[miracleandplagueau]

What are your thoughts on the season 5 finale?

INHALE (S5 finale spoilers, duh)

Before I start, disclaimer, I didn't watch most of the season 5 episodes in full. I mosty watched the important lore things and completely gave up on filler. That being said I didn't need to apparently, so let's just get on with it.

✦ PART I. What the actual fuck just happened.

The entire episode felt like some kind of fever dream, like it was written by a 10 year old just starting their journey with original characters, power systems and stories on general and had little idea how to tie the plots together in a satisfying way. Unless we count the mass reunion of everyone from the past whereas I hoped that the NYC and Shanghai specials were just ""fun episodes"" in the vaccum.

The whole plot of both episodes is basically Marinette is badass for 1.5 episode, but fails at recognizing that Gabriel (cough cough THE Monarch) is way beyond redemption and fucks up the entire world (not really, will be explained later)

I'll say it right now, I hate how miraculous went from a magic-focused story to ending on so many science involving plotlines. I mean, come on. He suddenly got himself a laser to turn the miraculouses to rings, created brand new jewelry with floating displays. It sucks, I hate it all over.

✦ PART II. Gabriel and his shenanigans

Personally, I hate the one-wish quota. No matter what happens, I've always seen it boil down to two outcomes - either the villain is stopped from making the wish and he has to be dealt with in a regular way or he succeeds in making the wish and faces no consequences in the end because the world has changed so much

It's the latter with Gabriel, but at the same time not exactly. He succeeded in making the wish, bailed on everyone and get this - he not only got what he wanted, he also got away with it scot free. No, I don't care If he was trying to do the "good" thing by bringing back his dead wife because he loved her. He did horrible, horrible things to get to that. I'll tackle the lack of consequences a bit later on.

✦ PART III. After-wish consequences

HA what the fuck am I saying, CONSEQUENCES? IN MIRACULOUS LADYBUG? That's fucking hilarious. Apparently, not only Marinette doesn't have to worry about being called out, because Gabriel put n the earrings and suddenly he's the most lucky bastard in the universe. Spoiler alert: that's not how it works.

During the scenes that showcased how Emily and Nathalie are alive, how his house is no longer grim and is instead filled with life and roses and bushes. It was nice, It really was.... visually. It's one to look at it and think "yeah, that's a nice finale" and other to look at it while knowing the context.

Oh and by the way, Emilie. So happy we got to see her.... for 5 seconds without counting the video. SHE'S SUPPOSED TO BE THE MOTIVATION FOR GABRIEL TO REWRITE REALITY?!? I'll forever be salty about that.

Going back to the wish for a second and the outcome of making the wish,,, are you fucking serious. I thought the world was supposed to be rewritten when the wish is made, not fixed? What kind of wish did the fucker make, because clearly he brought back TWO people and nothing else seems to have changed. And do not get me with the "Oh but he sacrificed his life for the wish!!--" BULLSHIT. HE WAS AN HOUR AWAY FROM TURNING INTO DUST SMARTASS, THAT IS NOT A WORTHY SACRIFICE OF BRINGING SOMEONE FROM THE DEAD AND HEALING SOMEONE.

I'd at least enjoy it a little If he vanished. Like went poof, gone, no more Gabriel, because then the sacrifice would hold some weight. He gave up his existence so that Adrien is happy, but nooo motherfucker got a STATUE IN HIS HONOR.

Nobody took the blame for the Hawk Moth/Monarch situation either. To people of Paris he just appeared, caused chaos and destruction before fading away after GABRIEL AGRESTE SUDDENLY HAD THE POWER TO GIVE CIVILIANS WITH HIS NEW RINGS POWERS OF A HERO. Nobody found it weird? No? Just me? Okay.

✦ PART IV. Marinette more like Marynette Sue

Marinette was especially unbearable this finale. The fact that she was the only one who fought Monarch, that she's the only one that knows his identity, that she just casually got two most powerful miraculouses all for herself. It just. hurt me physically.

She thought she can be steven universe fr

✦ PART V. Can Adrien stop being a plot device FOR TWO EPISODES

I'm sorry, is this too much to ask for? Is it too much to ask for Adrien to have a part in anything here. During my watch, I can confidently say that I forgot that Adrien existed and yes I know that he's closed off in a padded room, because Gabriel wants to "keep him safe", but come ON at least give us a take away back to him seeing Gabriel on the screen, struggling with the nightmare or considering taking the whole Miraculer deal. It shouldn't be like that in the first place where the secondary main character, the second hero is left to rot while the strong female lead do everything seamlessly.

In the end, the only thing he did is kiss Marinette and take Gabriel's rings. He didn't even find out about his father being the literal Monarch, It felt so cheaped out I dunno. It could've worked If he had a bit more part in the actual fight.

✦ PART VI. Oh yeah, and about Lila's cliffhanger (and season 6 and 7)

WHO THOUGHT OF THIS BRIGHT IDEA?! (I know damn well who did)

I hate the fact that Miraculous will actually continue with Lila as the new butterfly holder. I hate the fact that she got what she wanted and that she will continue to BE there. I do not give a single fuck about Lila and I will not be watching beyond season 5 because for me, the show of Miraculous: Adventures of Ladybug and Chat Noir has ended and it has ended horrendously at that.

✦ PART VII. The little positives the finale had

I liked Bug Noir's design. VISUAL DESIGN. and the animation in Agreste's garden.

I also actually really enjoyed Tikki and Plagg's true forms and Gimmi's fun attitude. They really gave them that great look where you go "Oh yeah, these guys aren't JUST bugs and are actually something greater than a human being" and I like that a whole lot..

PART IX. Finally, final thoughts

There are so many things I still have to say about the finale like the Adrienette, other characters like Luka, Nathalie, Kagami's mother also getting away scot free (for now) and blah blah blah but I am TIRED. I'll likely talk about it in the future or just hopefully forget that it exists.

This one is rough as fuck I know but I'm just writing it as I go

In short, man, am I glad this is over. Am I glad this is over.

Thomas, get your fucking shit together, because middle schoolers write better and more consistent stories. Bringing in all your half-assly written characters to just fight a distraction of sort and having your main character face the villain all alone because she's a strong female lead is not good writing thank you for coming to my ted talk

#miraculous ladybug #miraculous lb #miraculous fanworks #miraculous #miraculous ladybug au #answered #miraculous season 5 #miraculous s5 spoilers #mlb s5 spoilers #ml season 5 finale #mlb recreation #miraculous spoilers #ml recreation spoilers #ml salt #ml writers salt #miraculous salt #thomas astruc salt

[ferni-mothofprophecy]

Ginger

Chapter 1

Ao3 Link

They had trekked through rain soaked forests, up impossibly green mountains and now they were starting the final leg of their journey, across a frozen plateau that lay at the height of the tallest mountain of this island.

Michael bit his lip and glanced at Gertrude.

“What is it we’re doing again?”

She gave him a look which he knew to mean ‘stop asking questions and just do what I want you to do’.

She answered anyway, “There’s a great evil here and you are going to help me fight it.”

Michael didn’t like the expression on her face. It was too cold, like the icy landscape around him. He shivered.

“An evil?” He asked her, face crinkling into a frown, “What do you mean?”

She didn’t reply.

They walked further across the snow and ice that covered the ground. A sound like static rose in volume and seemed to drape over him as he and Gertrude walked closer and closer to whatever they were going to.

“What kind of evil is this?” Michael tried again.

No reply. It sounded like something from the statements but the statements were just stories and people believing in things that weren’t there, like him with Ryan. He startled. He hadn’t thought about Ryan in years. That was the original reason he had joined the institute! How could he have forgotten? He turned to Gertrude again. The expression on her face had turned even darker. She knew what was going on and she didn’t want to tell him.

They rounded a corner and what looked like a yellow painted door came into sight. Expect there shouldn’t have been a door there.

There was nothing the other side of it, but wispy strings of colour seemed to emanate from it.

Gertrude passed what looked like a map to Michael. Except instead of neat lines showing clear directions it was a mess of squiggly lines.

“Open the door and follow the map once you’re inside,” Gertrude said.

“Anything else I need to know?” Michael said, somewhat acidly.

“No, I think that’s all.”

Gertrude smiled, and it was the smile more than anything else that did it.

“Are you not going to give me any information about anything at all before I enter some kind of supernatural thing I didn’t even know existed and end up who knows where?” Michael asked, raising his voice.

“That’s all you need to know,” Gertrude said, “Now be a dear and hurry up, we’re short on time.”

“Am I expected to return?” Michael asked, his voice quiet.

“If all goes well, yes,” Gertrude said, and Michael knew she was lying. He was tired of being lied to. He hadn’t even known that the supernatural existed, heck he was still not sure if it did now, but he did know that what Gertrude wanted him to do would not have a good outcome for him. He wracked his brain, trying to think of anything he had encountered that would relate to this scenario. Was there anything? He tried to think of anything, anything that had happened to him or in the archives that couldn’t be explained away but there were just blank spots in his mind.

There was nothing.

If he had been afraid before, he was truly terrified now, but he took the map from Gertrude, brushing a spider off it as he did so. A spider. A flash of memory brushed his mind, gone as quickly as it had come. A vague snatch of Emma saying something. Michael had never liked Emma.

Michael started walking towards the door. As a reached out a hand to touch it, he felt the static intensify even further and he jerked back.

What was he doing? Was he really going to blindly trust Gertrude and walk into what could quite possibly be his demise?

He spun around.

“Why?” He hissed, “Why have I never encountered anything supernatural before. I’ve been working for the institute since I was fresh out of university and I’ve been on a work trip with you at least once a year.”

He scrunched his face up, why could he not remember what had happened on those trips. What was wrong with him?

“This isn’t the time for an existential crisis, Michael,” Gertrude snapped, evidently losing her patience, “The world isn’t going to die because some foolish boy decided to have a breakdown rather than saving it.”

“No,” Michael said, and he meant it, “I’m not doing anything until you tell me what’s going on.”

Gertrude sighed, “I didn’t want to have to do it this way.”

She took out a book from inside her coat. A pattern of interlocking webs decorated the cover, which had no title. She opened a page and scribbled a sentence then handed it to Michael.

“Go into the door?” He read aloud, “I’m not going to be more willing if you write-”

He was cut off by his legs taking a jerky step towards the door. He guessed this answered his question on whether the supernatural was real or not.

The panic set in a couple of seconds later. Michael started to struggle. He would not be controlled anymore. If he understood the situation correctly, he had been manipulated and lied to for so so long.

He wouldn’t tolerate it any longer.

He handed the map back to Gertrude, noticing a spider on his arm as he did so.

“Go find someone else to sacrifice to this cursed door but I’m done.”

She was looking at the spider, not him. She muttered something he couldn’t quite catch but it definitely contained the words ‘damn web’.

“I happen to quite like spiders,” Michael said, more to spite Gertrude than anything else, “They’re quite cute in some ways.”

“The world will end if you don’t walk inside that door right this minute,” She spat.

Michael suddenly froze. He had forgotten, hadn’t he just been walking against his will to the door just a few moments ago? What had broken that?

He looked around and his gaze met the spider, now perched on his shoulder. It was a soft brown colour with a light fuzz covering it’s body. Michael lifted it onto his finger, watching with interest as Gertrude tensed as he did so.

“Scared, Archivist?” Where had that come from? Gertrude seemed suitably intimidated so he just kept going.

“Go back to your archives and stop with your games. You have no power over me anymore.”

Gertrude’s face was pale and Michael felt a touch of regret. Had he overdone it? He reminded himself that he had been about to be sacrificed to some door thing.

“Leave,” he said, and something flashed through him at that last command. Gertrude turned immediately and left, her steps showing the same jerky motions that had compelled him towards the door not five minutes before.

Michael glanced down at the spider that still clung to his finger.

“We did it, little guy. We out-manoeuvred her!”

He had no idea how he had done it or what had happened though.

Michael guessed he should get going as well, maybe he could sneak onto the ship that he guessed would be taking Gertrude back. There was also the matter of if the world was actually going to end because he hadn’t stepped inside the door. He doubted it, and he certainly wasn’t going to enter the door to check.

He turned tail and started back across the ice, placing his little spider on his shoulder so it could watch the proceedings. He was growing quite fond of it.

****

He managed to get onto the ship without anyone realising. It was odd, really. Several people had found him tucked away in a small storage room deep in the ship but after telling them to go away and keep quiet, all of them had done exactly that. He hadn’t seen Gertrude, which was a relief.

He guessed he should get some sleep, though the adrenaline still buzzed through him.

He placed his spider on the floor and it scuttled away into a corner and started spinning a web. It was quite adorable, Michael decided.

“You need a name!” He whispered to it.

It chittered slightly in response, a clicking sound that probably should have been inaudible but Michael could hear just fine. He didn’t dwell on the implications of that particular fact.

“How about,” he pondered the matter, “cinnamon?”

The chitter that sounded didn’t seem satisfied so Michael tried again.

“Ginger?” He whispered, (he was still hiding after all), “That’s one of my favourite teas, though you have to add more honey than you add to most teas because its too spicy.”

The spider gave him a judging look, or he got that impression.

“Do you like the name though?” Michael asked it cheerfully.

A chitter of confirmation came in response and Michael grinned.

“Okay Ginger, keep watch, I’m going to go to sleep now.”

He yawned and settled down. It would be a few days before they reached the mainland.

The spider waited until he was asleep then started to spin.

****

Michael woke up the next morning, yawned and stretched before remembering where he was. He looked around and startled. The room was entirely covered with webs: they were draped around the ceiling, covering the walls; the door was completely blocked off. Ginger was squatting in the middle of the door.

“Aww, were you protecting me from being found,” Michael cooed at Ginger happily. He knew he should have found this unnerving but he just couldn’t bring himself to see anything horrifying about this. Ginger had stopped him being discovered. He reached over and softly stroked the spider’s body. It chittered happily at him.

Michael considered whether to leave the storage room but decided against it. He didn’t want to risk alerting Gertrude to his presence, as far as she knew he was still on the island.

He had no way of telling how much time had passed whilst he was in here but it was a long while until they would reach the mainland, so he didn’t think it was worth checking it yet. It was pretty light in the room he was in so it must be in the daytime though.

He froze.

There was no window and the door was blocked off with opaque spider web. How could there be light in here.

He swept his gaze over the room, searching for a light source, but there was nothing. The light distribution was perfectly even over the room as well.

“Have I suddenly developed the ability to see in the dark?” Michael asked Ginger jokingly.

The spider made a soft clicking noise in reply.

Michael settled back down against a pile of rope, wishing there was something to do. He stared up at the spider webs weaving intricate patterns across the roof of the small storage room.

It would be a long wait.

****

Michael had lost track of time but he theorised it was around two days since he had entered the ship. The light level never seemed to change (which Michael was thankful for, as being stuck in the dark would be truly terrifying) but he had slept twice and spent what felt like many, many hours tracing his eyes across the webs lining the room. And talking to Ginger, who had stayed on the closed off door as if to guard Michael from whatever lay outside. No one else had attempted to enter the room, so Ginger must be doing something right.

He got up and stretched. He didn’t feel particularly hungry, which was odd considering he hadn’t eaten anything the entire time he had been here, but that wasn’t the most pressing of his problems.

The main one, he guessed, would be trying to get off the ship unnoticed. He could wait until everyone had already departed and then sneak off, which seemed like the best bet. Perhaps even more of a problem was what to do after that. The ship would dock in the far north of Russia, which was such a great distance from England. He also didn’t have any money on him, which severely limited his options. He also wasn’t sure how many people would allow pet spiders (he was not leaving Ginger behind), particularly when they were as large as his was.

“Some people just don’t appreciate spiders,” he sighed to Ginger.

Ginger gave its little spider noises as it usually did. Michael had gotten pretty good at telling what Ginger meant when it talked. It was definitely agreeing with him at this moment.

“I’m looking forward to seeing Elias when we get back home,” Michael smiled.

“Yes, yes, I know he hates me now,” he said at Ginger’s disapproving chitter, “but I think it’s mainly just stress from the job. Being head of the institute must be a struggle.”

Granted, it had been over a decade since Elias had taken over the position and that should have been enough time to get used to it but it was probably a job that one couldn’t just get used to.

“Do you think Elias knows about the supernatural?” Michael asked Ginger, “I mean someone should’ve given him a crash course at least since he’s in the position he is now.”

He could probably do with a crash course himself. Now that he had realised that it both probably existed and had for some time, he was honestly intrigued more than anything. Sure, there was a lump of anger in his chest that refused to move but he had never the type to hold a grudge.

“So far I’ve encounter the door, the weird control book and whatever took Ryan,” he shuddered at the last one as he listed it.

“And whatever I did to Gertrude,” he tapped a finger against his lips, “Not sure quite how I did that.”

He laughed, only a little hysterically.

“Maybe knowledge of the supernatural automatically grants you cool powers,” he mused.

Ginger gave him another judging look.

“Hey I just think it would be cool,” Michael said defensively.

He lapsed into silence after that. Would it be a good idea to venture outside? Probably. He made his way towards the webbed off door.

“Could you let me out?” Michael gestured at Ginger sitting in the middle of the door.

Ginger chittered and climbed onto his outstretched arm. The webs in the door retracted, leaving him a way through. That wasn’t the most normal thing but was practically mundane compared the rest of the past few days so Michael payed in the mind. He doubted anything spidery would hurt him anyway.

The lower deck of the ship appeared empty but Michael made sure to keep his steps quiet just in case.

Ginger chirruped comfortingly in his ear as he went, which gave him much more confidence than he would have felt otherwise.

As he climbed the ladder that led to the main deck, he heard raised voices coming from one end.

“I’m telling you again Peter, he was with The Web!” The sound of Gertrude’s voice made Michael flinch.

“And I’m telling you again, that seems extremely unlikely,” a man’s voice, evidently Peter’s, spoke, “I didn’t see him much on the way over here but even I could tell he doesn’t have the right temperament for manipulating.”

“The Spider is sneaky,” Gertrude said.

Michael turned to Ginger.

“Are they talking about you?” He whispered.

Ginger seemed to disagree.

“I still don’t think he’s one of them,” Peter persisted, “Are you sure he didn’t end up using the Leitner against you in some way?”

The book was a Leitner? That explained a lot. Michael wracked his brains, trying to remember what he knew about Leitners. He remembered reading a few statements about them, but no specific instance came to his mind. If the malicious books were real however, whatever Gertrude had done to him with the book could have very well been possible.

With a start, he realised they were talking about him.

“I mean, I am with a spider,” he muttered under his breath, gently stroking Ginger across its back.

He snuck closer to the direction the voices were coming from, wanting to hear more of the conversation.

Gertrude and the ship captain were standing at the stern of the boat. Gertrude appeared angry. Good, Michael thought angrily. The ship captain, Peter, however, looked perfectly relaxed as he leant against the railing.

“You left him on Sannikov Land,” Peter said to Gertrude, “So he’s probably either going to die or he’s already dead. Whether he’s affiliated with The Web or not won’t change that.”

Gertrude nodded, and her face was like steel. She did not care, Michael realised. She had heard that he would be dead, and she did not care. She hadn’t hesitated to sacrifice him to that door and she hadn’t hesitated to leave him there either. He bit his lip. Ouch. That hurt a lot more than it should have done.

He was interrupted from any ruminations he might have had by Gertrude turning away from Peter and walking in his direction.

Michael looked around but saw no place to hide so he pressed himself against the stack of bags he had been hiding behind.

“Don’t notice me, don’t notice me,” he chanted under his breath.

Gertrude neared him, then walked straight past with not so much as a glance in his direction. Michael breathed a huge sigh of relief. She must have been too lost in thought to notice him.

Michael turned and scampered up to the prow of the ship, hoping to be able to see something that would show him where he was. Luckily, the coastline was visible, a line of faint green in the distance.

He heaved a sigh of relief, then grinned. He was excited to finally be off this boat.

He took another moment to drink in the fresh air, then carefully headed back down to his storage closest. He sighed. Back in the closest for him.

Laughing slightly at the irony, he flicked his finger at the webbing dangling either side of the door, oddly not being surprised when it knitted itself back together.

He threw himself down onto the pile of rope and spent the next few hours refining his plans of escape and waiting impatiently as the land grew closer and closer.

#tma #ferni.scribbles #michael shelley #tma michael #tma fic #web!michael #I have finally written the web!michael fic #:DDDD

[maracujatangerine]

27. Lost Property

CW: institutionalised slavery, dehumanisation, box boy universe, pet whump

Previous - Next

That night, Cory lay awake. The pet had heard Linden moving about, brushing his teeth and finally closing the door to his own bedroom. The house was dark and silent. It tried to slow its own breath, to focus on nothing, but no sleep came.

Quietly, it sat up and met its own reflection in the window. Its mirror image reflected in the dark glass, fuzzy around the edges as if the pet itself was melting into the night. Its neck looked achingly empty without its collar, but it was all right. The familiar brown leather band lay on the bedside table, within reach.

Slowly, without any noise, the pet knelt and reached up to open the window. Folding its arms on the sill, Coriander leaned out, drinking in the cool night air. It smelt like damp greenery, exhaust fumes and wild roses.

Tomorrow, it was finally happening. Miss Lydia was coming back. The pet could almost feel her arms around it, and hugging her back. Her hands caressing its hair. Brown eyes dancing with laughter.

But was that the way it was going to be?

The pet had disappeared, after all. It hadn’t followed its instructions properly. It had allowed the hotel staff to mix it up with another pet. It should have been at her side, helped her with her work, and now instead she’d had to deal with someone else’s pet, and Cory had not been there to help her.

It wasn’t your fault, a voice that sounded much like Miss Lydia’s whispered, you did your best. You couldn’t help that the hotel made a mistake.

But those things never mattered. A pet was always responsible.

Looking around the room, at the teddy bear and the neatly laid out possessions of another pet, an even worse thought occurred to Coriander. Miss Lydia had spent days with Colton. What if she liked him better?

From what Cory had seen - and what Linden had said - Col was more respectful, more obedient, less annoying. Miss Lydia had encouraged Coriander to take more initiative, to - heaven forfend - to be more like a person. But that was because she hadn’t had experience with pets. Now, when she had seen what it was supposed to be like, perhaps she would change her mind.

Worry churning painfully in its stomach, the pet lay down on its pillows again. It didn’t fall asleep for a long, long time.

. . .

Colton’s thighs were pressed against his stomach, his knees pointing towards his face, as he lay in the bed. Having his back to Miss Lydia didn’t feel so vulnerable, tonight.

His legs felt heavy, worn out, but not from pain or too long in any restraints. Col knew in the back of his mind that he was just pleasantly sore from the exercise of the hike. It was an odd feeling in his body, sure, but it didn’t hurt. He was extremely unused to such a feeling.

He was going home tomorrow.

He had pictured Master’s face over and over to the point that all of his features had jumbled together. Col wished he could smooth them over, return to the memory of the smiles his Master gifted him, but the ache in his legs was fast being matched by a pit of dread in his guts.

Would Master even want him back? Col was already second-hand, would his time with Miss Lydia have soiled him to the point of no return? What if he came back different and Master couldn’t be bothered to correct him?

Cory was so graceful. He was so well-trained. Col’s heart broke as he pictured the two of them, Cory and Master, at home together. Master crocheting in the living room with Cory attentively at his side. Not knelt out of reach. Not toying with the carpet or flinching away. Oh, god, and the mental image came so easily. The more he thought about it, the more they seemed like the perfect match. Colton’s dear owner and the least troublesome pet to ever exist.

But of course, Miss Lydia owned him, and tomorrow she would be taking him back. Master was going to be so angry at getting a taste of the good life, a life with a proper pet, and then having the miserable tall dog thrust back into his clutches. Col curled up tighter. What a shit deal. Master had always been utterly burdened with Colton, but it was tomorrow that he’d surely realise.

And yet- Col missed him. He was excited to see his gentle face again, before it twisted into a look of hate. He was excited to see Jaffa, and the creaking wooden house, and return to where he tentatively belonged.

Maybe Col could be enough. At the very least, he could delude himself with that possibility until he fell asleep.

. . .

Linden rolled over in bed for the tenth time in a minute. How could he sleep, when tomorrow was inching ever closer?

He was seeing Col again. More than that, he was getting him home. Although Linden was under no delusion- he knew that with Col came all of his trauma, all his distrust- he was still too excited to sleep. A nervous smile lit up his face.

He just wanted things to be normal again. He wished Cory no ill will, not at all, but it was best for everyone’s sake to get back to their respective lives. He was quite looking forward to seeing Cory’s face when he and Lydia reunited. Cory was certainly more expressive than Colton, whether or not it was sometimes a bit forced.

Col wasn’t a big fan of smiling, and that was okay. Linden felt that he was learning to read him just fine.

He only hoped that Col wouldn’t return from his time with Lydia even more traumatised than when he’d left.

. . .

Lydia turned off the bedside lamp, plunging the room into darkness.

“Good night, Col.” she whispered, not really expecting a reply.

She wasn’t sure if she imagined it, but the tension in the room felt lessened today, the silence between them significantly more comfortable than before.

At least I didn’t break him, Lydia thought to herself. I do think Colton enjoyed today.

She wondered what Cory was up to, tomorrow she would finally meet him. Gods above, she hoped he was all right. It seemed like he was.

She couldn’t wait to hug him. To be sure that he was well. But it was more than that.

She just missed him. She missed Coriander’s quiet, restful presence, the thoughtful ways in which he had begun to take his own initiatives, his shy smile. Lydia often wondered how much of Cory’s behaviour came from his training, but spending time with Col had shown her that the two pets were very different indeed.

She had begun to suspect that Cory had a sense of humour. He wasn’t courageous enough to show it to her yet, perhaps not even to acknowledge it to himself, but Lydia thought she could feel it glimmering just beneath the surface.

Perhaps one day, she would get to hear him laugh.

With that happy thought, Lydia drifted off to sleep.

Tag List Part 1: @cupcakes-and-pain @whump-em @wh-wh-whu @neuro-whump @carnagecardinal @cowboy-anon @whump-me-all-night-long @redwingedwhump @myst-in-the-mirror @haro-whumps @eatyourdamnpears @bloodsweatandpotato @pinkraindropsfell @whumptywhumpdump @theydy-cringeworthy @whump-in-progress @whumpsy-daisy @nicolepascaline @whumpcreations @briars7 @shiningstarofwinter @whumppsychology @alex-ember @miss-kitty-whumptastic @whumpy-writings @in-patient-princess @youtube-fandoms-bands @goblinchildindabog @mazeish @distinctlywhumpthing @inpainandsuffering @canniboylism @incoherent-introspection @kim-poce @broken-typewriter @the-monarch-whumperfly @whumpers-inc @grizzlie70 @lil-whumper @writingbackwards @sunflower1000 @wingedwhump @thecitythatdoesntsleep @thingsthatgo-whump-inthenight @onlybadendings @rabass @wolfeyedwitch @melancholy-in-the-morning

#lost property #lydia and linden #pet whump #lydia and coriander #linden and colton #box boy #bbu #box boy universe #box boy multiverse #whump fic #caretaker #recovery whump #rescue whump #original writing

[a-lwni]

I listened to a story sometime back about a couple that were on the lamb.. or thought they were on the lamb. They—depressed, in debt—made a suicide pact and burned down their house. They bought the rifles and everything, but got horny as they watched their home burn. When the sun came up and their house was a smoldering pile of ash, they realized the fire dept never showed up. No sirens, no nothing. They drove to a diner and fucked again in the bathroom. 

Thinking about it now bc later they tried to recapture the same feeling again by burning down something bigger, a motel this time, and they evacunapped a couple that had a tiny portion of a million piece puzzle and was heading to an airfield in arizona or somewhere to assemble it with other puzzle enthusiasts. They had crates and crates of it, labeled, in the room w them- Have I already told you about this story? it feels familiar typing it out.

“why didn’t you leave it in the car?” “what if the car got stolen?!” says the husband in a whimper

one of the evacunappers hands him a tissue and he blows his nose

I feel like the way I exist in this world requires a lot of explanation and I hate explaining.

That isn’t true—I don't think anyone has to explain anything—but it is something I truly feel- the obligation to explain. A decades old insecurity that is certain everybody else is just allowed to be here and I need to justify myself. That everyone else is fundamentally earnest and I'm flimsy.

I don't like explaining myself because I don't like explaining myself because we are fluid and ephemeral and flimsy I don't like explaining myself because to know something is to kill it

Yesterday this woman came into the cafe with two dogs to ask if we had a book, and anxious-but-usually-kind Rose, who gave me 2 bags of ginger chews for my birthday, said shortly, "what kind of service do those dogs provide?" to which the woman said "I can wait outside but I don't think you're allowed to ask me that" and Rose said "well you gotta leave!" and the woman left and Rose looked at me and said "what a bitch" and I was speechless. I looked up the book the woman mentioned, saw we could get it tho it'd take a week, went outside to tell her, she was already out of sight.

We are warmed in the sun and cooled in the wind. Beauty on a 5in screen can move us to tears. We contain the whole universe and we can be mean and spiteful and nasty

And in short bursts I feel another feeling, more patient and loving-

being able to sit in the silliness of our own insecurities and see them and laugh with them, or cry, but just walking alongside them without categorizing- putting a cloud into a labeled cardboard box.

[pearlegade-archived]

like how am i supposed to feel ?????????? bro

#long post / #YES I'M CRYNG AGAIN #i am a BIG BABY and i can't deal with this #like ....................... she looks at rose like nothing else exists in the universe but her #and it might as well feel like that to pearl !!!!!!!! #even if it's a hologram . bro #and when rose offers her her hand ?????? likE UGH #it's like she can't believe it #and i KNOW it's because it's like seeing rose again #after her death . #from flashbacks we can tell rose is pretty physical when it comes to it #she grabs pearl and hugs her and pulls her around . she's used to it #so it's not like pearl is surprised by rose holding her hand or whatever !!! nope ! #it's her doing it again after being gone for so long . even tho it's Nothing #compared to how long gems live . it's Too Long #and yes it's fake but still . #and BRO let's not even talk about the ' i think you're pretty great ' !!!!!!!! #after she yelled at everyone and almost let steven die .......... she knows rose would #be disappointed . BUT steven telling her she's great even after that ??? #even after he almost fell to his death and after she dumps all that shit on him #like he's not a 12 / 13 year old little boy who has to deal with his mom's garbage #he says EXACTLY what she needs to hear . he forgives her so easily #and it reminds her so much of rose while at the same time .......... not at all #HADSSAD don't talk to me i'm sensitive

[swtki]

Enemy - E. C

Pairing: Edward Cullen x Vampire! Fem! Reader

Summary: Edward meets his seductress once again

Warnings: Smut, 18+ content, banter between muses, femdom, Sub! Edward, not in an alternate universe just set in the seventies, Volturi! Reader, oral (m), mention of Edward being killed, swearing of course, Vaginal sex, kinda dubcon but not really? Public alley sex.

A/N: Edward smut is hard you mfs better love this.

If he had a working heart, he was sure it would be pounding so loud the whole city could hear. He sat on his balcony, eyes scanning the crowded Paris streets. To find her, the woman who was to destroy him. Alice had warned him just a week ago, her vision being one of chaos and pain. Behind it all, was a womans face. Not just any face however, it was Y/N. A member of the Volturi, whose heart was set on pulling him limb from limb. Everyone in the house had decided it would be best if Edward were to depart from their permanent home, flee to Paris for a short time. He was akin to being alone, but to be alone while watching over your back 24/7 was not the same. While he hated every second of his existence; He knew that if he were to give up and let her kill him, she would surely only continue to his family. He couldn’t let that happen, so he kept moving in the shadows. She wouldn’t move on until she had his head.

He racked his brain, trying to figure out a long term plan as this could only work for so long. She was strong, killing her wouldn’t be easy nor would it be something he wanted to do. Perhaps he could change her mind, he could talk her down from her dedication.

He sighed, walking into the main room and grabbing his jacket.

He needed to eat.

The elevator ride down was slow, and he tapped his finger against his thigh. How he hated human life, but at the same time desired it more than anything. Tedious elevators, the need to eat every single day, the need to sleep. The doors finally slid open, allowing him to walk down the lobby and out of his building.

The street was unusually crowded at this time, the past five days the streets were deserted as soon as the clock struck nine-pm. He couldn’t run to the closest forrest or country plaine, he needed to leave the area before they could see him take off.

So, he started walking. Voices filled his head - the French didn’t try to hold back compared to Americans. Thats when he realized, it was friday night. There were people flooding the streets. More specifically, humans flooding the streets.

“Shit.” He breathed out, knowing that he’d not only have to cancel his meal, but interrupt someone else's. He started walking to the loud music, cursing himself for being this stupid. Who other than Edward Cullen would want to find his potential murderer?

As people danced to the music, he slid toward the bar. He ordered a beer to maintain face amongst the others around him.

“Merci.” He started to turn back to the dancing bodies, but stopped when he heard the order the bartender was receiving.

“Un whisky et un verre de ce champagne.“ The man said, waiting for his drinks to be prepared. Thats when Edward realized. He had ordered champagne. Both the human man and the bartender had thought it was weird someone would order champagne in a club like this. But she always ordered champagne, always. It was what she would tell her victims to order before she took them outside.

He watched the man take the drinks, hoping he was wrong about the partner. He cursed as he realized he wasn’t. She drank, flirted, and of course lured him outside. Throwing some coins on the bartop, he quickly followed. But, he was too late. Her body was flush against the human mans, she was having a bloody good meal. Edward would be lying if he didn’t debate joining her.

“I see you’re still denying your nature.” She pulled off of him, letting the body drop as she stood still.

“I see you’re still wearing red so you don’t need to worry about stains.” He replied. She smiled and turned to him, looking him from head to toe. “I don’t know why you still despise me after all these years, Y/N.” her smile faded.

“Despise you? No, Edward I quite admire you.” She walked over to him and pressed her hand to his shoulder, “I really do think you’re one of the strongest of our kind. You could be stronger, but you suppress yourself. You drink rats blood, while I drink how our kind is meant to. Shame, really.” She walked behind him and her hand wrapped around his neck. He couldn’t move, her powers overtook him. “Imagine the life you and I could lead if you would just submit”. He shuddered at the last word. He was always a sucker for her when it came to seduction and she knew it.

“What do you want?”

“Oh, nothing much. I just want the natural order to be restored.” She smiled and kissed his neck sofly. “Imagine yourself, in Italy with the most powerful of our kind. You could have me every night - for the rest of eternity.” his eyelashes fluttered as she continued kissing his neck. “Do you want to see how good it would feel to be with me every night?”

“Please.” He whimpered. Thats all she needed to release him from her grasp and push him against the dark brick wall. Their lips connected as if they were puzzle pieces, moving in perfect harmony with each other. She pulled away, slithering down on her knees, she was going to make him realize how much he needed her.

“Shall I?” She asked, running her hand up his thigh softly.

“Yes, God, please.” Edward begged, she loved hearing him beg for her touch.

“You always were weak when it came to sex, wonder if you still moan at the smallest, little,” Her hand groped his growing cock. His stomach fluttered with pleasure, and he couldn’t hold his moan, “Touch. Edward, you can read my mind, you can see what I have planned.” He looked inside her head, seeing the pleasure she could inflict upon his body if he would just wave a white flag.

As she took off his trousers, he debated surrendering or not. Was she worth living a life he wanted nothing more than to shun? Every time they saw each other, the sex was electric almost. She made him feel like a prey being hunted by a predator, and he loved that. As much as he hated to admit it, part of the reason he kept turning down the offer was because he didn’t want to ruin the cat and mouse relationship. He knew she loved the chase, that was why she was so persistent. But did he still feel a hatred towards her? Yes. He had seen her slaughter entire groups because she didn’t get her way. But tonight, he decided, he would wave a white flag and lower it once the sun rose.

He snapped back to reality, she hooked her fingers around the waistband of his briefs, looking up at him through her long lashes. He looked down, beginning to place his hands on her head, but was stopped by her pinning him to the wall. Her gift was useful in many situations.

Tugging down, she smiled when his dick was finally isolated. He was all hers tonight, he was painfully hard for her and only her. Her hand grasped the shaft, pumping a few times before licking a long stripe up. He made a moan of pleasure and she rewarded him with taking his length down her throat. She gagged and felt his hips buck, making her withdrawal.

“Wait-” He began.

“No, you broke the rules. What did I tell you about greed, Edward?”

“That it had no place in our sex life.” She smiled and stood, slapping his cheek a few times.

“Dress. We’ll be going to my hotel room, you may not deserve anything, but I do.” He rushed to pull up his pants and follow her.

She pushed him down on the bed as soon as the door was shut, lifting her dress up, she straddled him.

“Imagine, you agree and this is every night for the rest of our time.” Pulling down his pants she spat on her hand and guided him to her slick cunt. He slid in with ease, making her eyes roll into her skull. He could hear her mind scramble as she slowly rocked her hips. “Feel so fucking good, shame you have to be so fucking stupid.”. He was sure if he had blood he would have just bitten it and bled out. She was so fucking hot, watching her nails dig into his firm stomach. He adored her from this angle, especially when she didn’t even bother to to take her clothes off.

“Can I touch you, please?” She smiled and nodded, letting his hand move so his thumb could skillfully rub her clit, making the coil in her stomach tighten. Her movements got faster, and he heard her mind beg for more. He slightly lifted his hips while continuing his fingers. Her orgasm washed over her, causing her to scream out in pure bliss. She stopped her hips, swinging her leg over his body and straightening her dress. He looked at her in confusion, he still hadn’t cum.

“You can cum when you agree to join me. I had my fun, now leave.” She said coldly. He pulled his pants back up, stumbling back to the apartment he had spent every night and day in. He’d be lying if he said he didn’t consider saying yes to her.

As long as it was her

—

Like my content? Reblog! It helps me out so much and shows others my work. So, all I ask is that you reblog it!

#edward cullen fanfiction #edward cullen x reader smut #edward cullen x reader #edward cullen smut #headcannons twilight #twilight smut #robert pattinson x reader #robert pattinson smut #edward cullen fanfic

[silverdelirium]

hi! can you do one where draco and the reader are married (don’t make them old please make them like the married rich pretty milf and dilf couple), and they have a daughter. anyway, draco is out because of work/something else (it’s up to u) and the reader is with their daughter and they get into a small fight and the daughter says something really bad/hurtful to the reader (her mother) and the reader like gets sad (make it bad so it can be dramatic😏) and when draco gets home he finds the reader like crying (smoking too bc a milf smoking is hot but if you don’t want to add it it’s fine) and yeah basically the rest is up to you :)) ily hope ur well and fine. <3

CIGARETTES & INSECURITIES | D.M

thank you hoe @selenesheart for helping me with the title ily

warnings: anxiety, lowkey panic attack, insecurities of being a bad mother, mean child, smoking, angst w a happy ending

———

draco’s hurried steps were heard echoing across the hallway as he rapidly made his way downstairs, cussing his boss out under his breath for calling him on a fucking Sunday. the same sunday he was about to spend basking in the love of his wife and child, all expectations now turned to mush.

“i’m sorry i have to go, my love. call me if you need anything, okay?” spoke draco, tone soft as he held your face in his hands, giving you one last sad smile before pressing a sweet kiss on your lips.

you gave him a feeble nod in response with a reassuring smile, watching him storm off in long strides, still swearing in hushed whispers and with a flick of his wand, he was gone.

you instantly took notice of how intense the atmosphere got around the manor- almost scary. deadly quiet with your four-year-old toddler still asleep and big curtains blocking any sunlight from coming in.

it almost caused goosebumps to rise on your arms as if the universe was already warning you of the day you were gonna have to deal with today.

maybe the first bad thing to happen today was being woken up by draco’s phone going off like crazy with calls of his boss and endless text messages of his colleagues.

it didn’t matter though, you had other things to worry about. your toddler was already walking down the stairs with a sleepy stare as she made her way to you, immediately taking notice of how there was no trace of draco, and looking around for any signs of her father.

“hi there” you greeted, giving her a sympathetic smile when she asked for draco, her small body already wrapped around your torso. a small sigh with a brief explanation of a work emergency was given to her. her sour mood amplifying a tenfold for every word that left your mouth.

she stayed quiet for a moment, and just as you started beaming at the thought of calming a daddy’s girl- she sobbed heavily in your ear, clinging hard to you but still screaming for draco.

a grimace found its way to your face along with a sorrowful expression as you shushed her down, tracing your fingers down her spine; a small trick you always did to relax her in days like this.

her sobs quieted down but she still cried silently in your shoulder, hot tears rolling down her face that had you questioning whether you should call your husband or not, the thought accompanying the insecurity of being a terrible mother who can barely keep her child tranquil.

after a few minutes of letting her pour all her emotions out, you made a path to the kitchen and sat her down on the barstool, wiping her tears away as she huffed in what seemed to be an angry expression.

“would you like some breakfast, baby?” you spoke, tone soft and slow as to not aggravate the situation.

“i want daddy”

“he’s- he’s not here right now” you tried to reason, watching as she took a deep breath but said nothing.

you turned around to head for the stove. but your ears caught a small murmur of “you’re the worst” coming from none other than your daughter.

a thunder-struck look adorned your face, blinking back the tears that found their way to your waterline.

ever since you found out you were pregnant, the anxiousness of being a not good enough mom had filled you in seconds, thinking of the worst scenarios possible throughout the pregnancy. draco was always there to ease your nerves a bit, yet, never quite pushing them away completely.

and jesus- did that simple three-word sentence stung painfully at your heart.

you stayed frozen in place for a few moments before taking a deep breath and quickly collecting yourself, continuing your errands around the kitchen as you made an effort to ignore the way your hands became clammy and heartstrings were pulled harshly in your chest.

the rest of the day went painfully slow, your daughter completely ignoring you and just curling up on the couch or playing in her room, always slamming the door in your face whenever you attempted to talk to her. your back also aching from having to do all house chores by yourself. every once in a while getting a text message from draco, rushed typos of “i love you” and “i’m gonna be there soon”.

——

the clock read 6:07 P.M and you held the cigarette to your lips with shaky fingers, tears blurring your vision as all the frustration from today came crashing down at once.

sobs rocked through your body as you inhaled the smoke and blew it out past your nostrils. warm, thick tears not coming to a halt even once.

your cries muffled every sound around you. not taking notice of draco who was now frantically searching for you, already finding your daughter safe and asleep on the couch. yet you were nowhere to be found.

it took one look at the cigarette package on the dining table for draco to locate you. he knew about your anxiety and how bad it got when triggered.

his heart ached and fists clenched at his side as he turned to his baby girl, snuggling her deeper into the thick fluffy blanket before making his way to the porch where you sat with a hand to your sternum, big clouds of smoke fogging the air around you.

“oh, baby” he sympathized, not giving you time to react as he enveloped you in a big hug, feeling the way your curled your fists on his shirt and sobbed quietly, taking ragged breaths every once in a while.

after a few minutes of taking shallow breaths, you pulled your head back from his chest, just enough to stare at his face, his bright grey eyes running down every feature you had, almost like he was studying it.

“what happened today?” he whispered, closing his eyes and connecting his forehead with yours.

you released a breath through your nose and lit off the cigarette on the small table next to you before explaining every small detail from today to draco, a few tears escaping at some points.

once you were done, draco removed his head from yours, pulling back and displaying both of his palms on your cheeks, observing your tear-stained face made him ache with sorrow.

“my love” he started “you are the world’s greatest mother to ever exist, a bad day with your child does not define your abilities as a mom. she loves you, we all do. you don’t know how fuzzy she gets when you’re not here.”

his words made a small smile crack through your lips, buzzing nerves slowly weighing down after every syllable he spoke.

“we would all be doomed if it wasn’t for you. every parent has a bad day, do not beat yourself up for it, it happens to the best of us.” he finalized, chest swelling with pride once he saw how you were full-on beaming, puckering your lips like a silent sign for a kiss which he gladly provided.

“i love you” you mumbled against his mouth.

“i love you more” he responded.

———

🏷: @spencervera @methblinds @marrymetheonott @adrianscumslut @wh0re4blaise @turn-to-page-394-please @fredshufflepuff @malfoysbiitch @saggyb1lls @selenesheart @metaraxia @dracoslittlesluttyprincess @dracomalfoys-wh0re @dlmmdl @fleursbabe @riddleswh0r3crux @lolooo22 @darlingmalfoy @littlemissnoname13 @i-love-scott-mccall @underappreciated-spoon-321 @steveharringtonswhore @dracosafety @dracoscum @riddleswh0rekrux @laceycallisto @slytherinbabess @lostaurorax @alexavolturisblog @s1ater @marauderswh0re1 @starless-starkov @black-rose-29 @tattooedkermit @purpleskymalfoy @emma67 @mypainistemporary @mauvea @teenwolfbitches28 @lissa-duh @paniicing @rav3nclawwhore @yagamigf

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#draco malfoy imagine #draco malfoy angst #draco malfoy fluff #draco malfoy one shot #draco malfoy #dad!draco #draco malfoy x y/n #draco malfoy x reader #draco malfoy x you

[vendettaparker]

You Say the Whole World’s Ending (Honey, It Already Did) [P.P]

Summary: Peter mourns his greatest loss.

Word Count: 1.1k

Warnings: Character death, angst, typos, throwing up

a/n: hi! i’m genuinely so sorry for how sad this is lol. i had to write this idea down before i forgot it. that one bo burnam song really got me :( here it is if you want to hear it! hope you enjoy and as always reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated! ok. back to my hiatus :)

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

“Today, the world mourns the loss of one of the most innovative teens in existence,” The news reported stated with tears in her eyes, “Last night, (Y/N) Stark was found dead after going missing for three months. The cause of death has not yet been disclosed and her family asks for privacy during this time of grieving. The world shares in this pain, and I believe I speak for all of us when I say, (Y/N), you will be missed.”

The clouds muddled over the compound, creating a darkness that sheathed over the building while the rain pittered over the roof and windows. As cliche as it was, Pepper and Tony provided black umbrella to all the guests at the graveyard. Together they huddled over the casket with their umbrellas, attempting to keep the rain off of the perfect mahogany the best they could.

Morgan clung to her mothers leg and scratched at her neck, uncomfortable in the pearls she was forced in, too young to understand what she had just lost. Tony kept his arm around Pepper, trying to hold on to what family he had left, begging whatever god was out there to give him respite from his pain.

Pepper gripped her umbrella with an iron fist, recalling when she first met you. Small and shy as you were, you quickly warmed up to her as she showed you to your room.

“Is this her?” Pepper asked as you cowered behind Tony’s leg, a small backpack hung loosely on your shoulders.

“Yeah,” Tony nodded with a proud smile, “this is (Y/N).” Tony bent down, motioning for Pepper to join him as she greeted you with a warm smile. “This is Pepper, (Y/N),” Tony placed a hand on your shoulders, “she’ll help watch you when I’m away.”

You nodded and held your hand out to her. Pepper grasped it in her perfectly manicured fingers and held it tightly, “I think we’ll be good friends,” she smiled, giving your fingers a sweet kiss.

Pepper not only lost her daughter; she lost her best friend as well.

Peter couldn’t even go. May begged him to go, trying to pull him out of the rut he’d been in for the last three months. She did the best she could, but deep down she knew. She knew all too well the pain of losing your soulmate, and as young and naive as Peter was, he still managed to find that in you.

Peter felt hopeless. He had held out hope for months, thinking that by some miracle you;d get to come home. That you’d walk through the door and run up to him, pulling him into your warmth and smashing your soft lips onto his. Every night he dreamed of you. Your laugh and your jokes. The way you scrunched your nose when he said something stupid, but then laughed along with him. The way you’d ruffle his hair as he laid in with his head nuzzled in your chest. The way you’d rush into school so fast, you nearly knocked him over when you found him. Those dreams, or more so, memories kept him going. And now he had nothing.

He was stuck in a world without you. And at a certain point, he wondered if it was even worth living in. He was wrong. He used to think that good things happened to good people, but he was wrong. You were as good as it got and you still ended up in the ground.

“Peter,” Sam said from the other side of the call, “you gotta come to the compound.” He hung up before Peter could even get a word in, but when he arrived at the building, he understood why.

Sam met him at the door, tears crusted around his dark eyes, and the look he gave Peter evoked immediate dread.

Peter could hear Pepper’s screaming sobs from inside. The cries of all the Avengers filtered through his ears into his head like nails on a chalkboard. And as unsettling as it was, he knew.

Sam guided him through to the medbay, and part of him secretly hoped he was wrong. It wasn’t until he held your cold hand in his overly warm ones that it hit him. And then the screaming started.

“No,” Peter murmured as the tears began dancing around in his vision, “no, no, no.” Peter shook his head, “I-It’s not her.” He said, but it was more of a terrible wish he put out into the universe, “please, it’s not—no. She’s strong—stronger than that, she wouldn’t—I-I don’t understand.”

Peter whipped his head around and the whole team could see the tears uncontrollably flowing out of his eyes as he heaved. The hyperventilating, mixed with the cries of everyone else in the room was making him nauseous. Before he could properly process what was going on he was running to the window, throwing it open and spewing brown goo out into the yard.

Happy ran over and rubbed his back and shoulder, “It’s okay, Pete. Come on now, breathe.”

Peter screamed and heaved out sobs as more brown chucks spilled from his lips. When he was done, he collapsed into Happy and the large man wrapped his arms around Peter’s shaking frame.

“I–It’s not true,” Peter begged, “Happy—” he pleaded, only to be shushed.

“I know,” Happy cried, “I know it’s hard, Peter. But you have to calm down.”

Tony, having just lost his daughter, saw Peter’s breakdown and left the room. Pepper by his side, drawing her cries out in his t-shirt.

“H-How can I?” Peter wailed, “I want her back, I want her back! (Y/N)!” Peter crawled out of Happy’s embrace, up the bed that held your limp frame. He tugged on the sheet that Bruce had put over your head, ripping it to expose your beautiful face.

“No,” Peter cried, sloppily running his hands over your face, “no, (Y/N).” Peter rubbed his thumbs under your eyes and held his cheek against yours, only feeling the icy prick of your skin on his, “come on, please get up, please. I-I had so many things to tell you. I had s-so much left to—I—I never got to marry you, (Y/N), please. Please d-don’t leave.”

Every watery plea was only met with a painful silence on your end. The only sounds to accompany the dreadful silence were the wails coming from the boy’s mouth.

And now he was here, sitting alone in his room, on the same bed you used to cuddle him in. If he tried really hard, if he focused enough he could still smell the lavender shampoo you used. It was such a little comfort, but it was all he had.

May accompanied Happy to the funeral, letting him rest his head on her as the tears flowed from his eyes.

“She was so special,” Happy recalled with a sniffle, “so special.”

“Yeah,” May whispered, swallowing her own sob, “in more ways than one.” She placed her yellow rose on the casket, blowing a little kiss to it with a small prayer, thank you. Thank you for being Peter’s love.

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

✧tags & moots✧ @ptersmj @princessofguineapigs @peterbenjiparker @cherrytholland @itsapeterthing @justapurrcat @thirstiestpotato @kelieah @iovebug  @waitimcomingtoo  @rosyparkers  @parkers-gal @allegra-writes @starktonyx  @celestialholland  @hollandcrush  @londonspidey @blissfulparker @spidernerdsblog @spidey-sophie @spideyspeaches @peterparkers-bad-youtube-apology @andilovetowrite @sinisterspidey @asonofpeter @westcoastcigar @arlo-sanders @love-peterparker @boiolay @letssee2468  @white-wolf1940 @fandom-life-12 @hollandsdream @annathesillyfriend @lovelybarnes @miseryholland @wierdteenagenerd @duskholland @hollandprkr @lauras-collection @arvinsescape @hollandsrecs @worldoftom

#peter parker #peter parker x reader #peter parker smut #peter parker angst #tom holland #tom holland smut #tom holland x reader #tom holland peter parker #spiderman x reader #tom holland spiderman #peter parker fic

[neonlights92]

Night Changes: PART ONE

Jeon Jungkook has spent the last twenty years alone.  Single.  Solo. 

And that’s just the way he likes it.  That is, until he meets the supposed love of his life.  Suddenly he’s falling over himself at the chance of a real relationship with someone.

The only thing getting in his way? You.

genre: fuckboy!jungkookie, college!jungkookie, romcom, e2l (kinda)

A/N: my attempt at a college kookie story? enjooooy

--

Perhaps it is the universe telling him to stop drinking. 

Jeon Jungkook really needs to start listening to the universe, and stop listening to - well to put it bluntly - his penis. 

When he wakes up in another stranger’s bed, with a splitting headache, and lipstick marks scattered across his chest, he reckons he should start making better life choices. 

The young woman sharing his bed - a girl from the party last night, with legs that go on for miles - rolls over and blinks her eyes open sleepily.  She smiles at him.

“Hi Jungkook.” 

He racks his brain for her name.  Jisoo… Jennie… Lisa… Rose? 

He feels bad - he really really does - but what can he do?  He was seven tequilas in, when Taehyung convinced him that taking her home would be a good idea. 

“Hi…. You.”  He finishes lamely, smiling sheepishly. 

She blinks again, this time a little more furious.  Her eyes narrow after a moment. 

“You don’t remember my name, do you?”  She purses her stained lips, and Jungkook really does feel awful.

Or maybe that’s just the hangover. 

“I uh - maybe.  It’s.. Last night’s a little bit grainy for me, to be honest.”

She seems unimpressed, arching a well-groomed brow, “You’re in most of my classes at college, Jeon Jungkook.”

And really that’s when he feels like a complete asshole. 

“Shit.  I’m sorry,” He tries to place her - he tries so fucking hard - but he knows he doesn’t recognise her, and a worm of guilt starts niggling in the pit of his stomach.

She rolls her eyes and sits up, pressing a hand against her forehead and clicking her tongue, “Whatever.  Just get out.  Jerk.” 

Jungkook feels bad.  Seriously, he does. 

But he can’t help but share her sentiment.  

He scrambles out of bed, fishing around her bedroom floor for the jeans he so carelessly threw off, and the white shirt he’s sure is stained with something he’ll never be able to get rid of.  He stumbles into the clothing and turns back towards the nameless woman glaring at him from underneath the covers.

“Do you hate me?”

She rolls her eyes, “Get out of my house, asshole.” He winces.  He knows he deserves that.

“See you soon?” She shakes her head, and tugs a hand through her unruly hair, “Hopefully not.” Jungkook bolts out of there like his life depends on it but just as he pulls the front door open, somebody else blocks his way.  And suddenly everything in the world shifts, and he feels as though his heart has just split open right down the middle. 

Because standing in front of him, holding two bags of groceries, is an absolute angel.  

Jungkook thinks - no he’s certain - she’s the most beautiful woman he’s seen in his entire life, and now he understands the songs, and the sonnets and the plays.  This is what love at first sight is.

It has to be.

“Oh.”  She laughs a little, “Hi.” 

Jungkook’s eyes widen, “Hi.”

“You must be Y/N’s guest.” 

Y/N.  So that’s her name.

“Uh… Yeah.”

Her cheeks flush brightly, “I’m Soomi, Y/N’s roommate.” 

“Nice to meet you Y/N’s roommate.  I’m Jungkook.”

When she giggles, Jungkook feels like he’s ascended into another plane of existence.  

“Well it’s nice to meet you too.”  Her eyes lower to his haphazardly buttoned shirt, “Under the circumstances.” Jungkook feels stupid and wonderful all at the same time, and just as he’s about to do something crazy - like ask for her number, or ask her to marry him, even - somebody clears their throat from behind him.

In a moment, Jungkook remembers exactly where he is.  His heart drops.

Shit.

Y/N.

“I see you’ve met the asshole I slept with last night,” Y/N raises a brow and clicks her tongue, “You were just on your way out, Jungkook, weren’t you?”

“I… Uh…  Yeah.  On my way out.” Jungkook knows he has no right to feel dejected - after all he was the one who couldn’t remember Y/N’s name in the first place.  But he’s sure Soomi might very well be the love of his life, and he can’t possibly just walk out like this, can he? But when he turns to face Soomi he notices she’s already stepped out of the way for him… And there’s really nothing more he can do.  

“Well uh… It was nice to meet you Soomi,” He moves into the hallway and turns to give Y/N a half smile, “See you in class.”

“Like I said.”  Y/N pulls a face, “Hopefully not.”

Soomi giggles again and he feels like he’s been shot straight through the heart, “Bye Jungkook!”

The door slams shut in his face, and the moment Jungkook is alone he notices how quickly his heart is racing.  Oh god.

He’s in love. 

He has to be.

//

“Jungkook.  You’re being ridiculous.”  Jungkook’s roommate Namjoon rolls his dark eyes, “She is not the “love of your life.”  Stop being so dramatic, you sound like Jin.” Jungkook feels like his heart is about to burst.  It’s been less than three hours since he met Soomi and all he can think about is the curve of her smile.

“No.  I’m serious, Namjoon.  C’mon, when have you ever known me to feel this way about a girl?”

Namjoon sets his mug of coffee to one side and clicks his tongue, “Never.  I’ve never known you to feel this way about a girl.  Which only further proves my point - you’re being ridiculous.”

“You’re just made of ice,” He comments bitterly, “I’m serious Namjoon.  I’m in love.”

“Listen Jungkook you know I usually love to disagree with Namjoon,” This comes from Jungkook’s other roommate Taehyung who is slung across the couch lazily, “But I’ve got to say… This time he’s got a point.  You sound like a crazy person.”

“If you saw her you’d know exactly what I mean.” 

Namjoon rolls his eyes so hard Jungkook is surprised he doesn’t lose one to the back of his skull.

“It’s a girl Jungkook.  A girl you met for all of twenty seconds.” “She was an angel.”

Taehyung giggles, “You’ve really got it bad huh?” “My heart hasn’t stopped pounding since I left her.”  Jungkook feels himself deflate slightly, “I need to see her again.” “And how are you going to do that?”  Taehyung raises a dark brow, “Surely you don’t have any classes with her, or you would’ve seen her by now.”

“No but… I have classes with Y/N.”  Jungkook knows it’s a dumb suggestion.  

But he can’t help it.  He needs to see Soomi again. 

“Y/N as in the girl who you slept with and who’s name you couldn’t remember?”  Namjoon scoffs, “Even you can’t be dumb enough to think she’d help you out of the goodness of her heart.”

“No… Maybe not out of the goodness of her heart.”  Jungkook agrees, carding a hand through his cherry red locks, “But I can figure out something she wants.  Y’know… Mutually beneficial.”

“I hope you’re not talking about your penis,” Taehyung pulls a face. 

“Have you not been listening for the past hour Taehyung?  I am in love with Soomi - I’m not about to sleep with her roommate...Again.  I’m a one woman man.”

Namjoon pushes himself to his feet, “Your only hope is that she’s in love with somebody else.  Somebody you could potentially help her seduce.”

Jungkook stands too, “That’s brilliant.” “What about Hoseok?” Taehyung cocks his head to the side, “Everybody’s in love with Hoseok.”

“Do not drag Hoseok into this Jungkook.”  Namjoon gives his friend a pointed look, “I’m serious.  He’s still heartbroken over Alexa.”

“Alexis,” Taehyung corrects, “Why can’t you ever bother to get the names of our girlfriends right?”

As Namjoon and Taehyung argue over Namjoon’s inability to remember names correctly, Jungkook starts thinking of all the ways he can convince Y/N to help him with Soomi.

It’ll be a piece of cake.

Or so he hopes.

//

Monday morning rolls around and Jungkook spends practically every minute from the moment he leaves his dorm scouring the campus for Y/N.  She isn’t in his first class of the day - or even the second.  By his third class of the day he starts to wonder if maybe she’d confused him with someone else.

Maybe there’s another Jeon Jungkook on campus who sleeps with attractive women and forgets their name in the morning.  Somebody else is stealing his game.

But then - like a vision from heaven - she walks into his political science class as if she isn’t the key to all his happiness. Her eyes flit across the lecture room and when they land on Jungkook she glares.  He wants to sink back against himself but he refuses - instead he smiles widely and gestures for her to sit in the empty seat beside him.

She shakes her head as if he’s crazy (and to be honest, he might be) and instead moves towards the very back, sliding into a seat all on her own. 

Jungkook grunts.  He can’t really blame her. 

Still.  Does she really have to make things so difficult?

He grabs his books and shuffles over to where Y/N is sat, engrossed by something on her phone.  When he looks closer he realises it's one of those pimple popping compilations on Youtube.

Gross.

Jungkook clears his throat and when she looks up her expression morphs from surprise into annoyance.

“What are you doing?”

“Sitting beside my new friend,” He grins wider, “Y/N.”

Her eyes narrow into slits, “What do you want?”

“To make amends,” Jungkook answers immediately, “I kind of feel like an asshole.” “You should.”  She gives him another look of annoyance, “But I’m also not stupid.  You’ve got the hots for Soomi, haven’t you?”

Jungkook feels his stomach drop.  Is he that obvious?

“Everyone has the hots for Soomi,” Y/N waves her hand noncommittally and gives him a once over, “Though not everyone has slept with her roommate.”

Jungkook winces.  It’s clear Y/N despises him.

“Would it help if I said I was sorry?”

“For forgetting my name or for giving me the worst head of my life?” The insult sears him.  Jungkook may be a little bit of a lady’s man but he’s always been determined to please his lovers.  He wishes he could remember any part of their tryst (to prove her wrong, more than anything) but once again he draws a blank.

“I can make it up to you.” She raises a brow, “I highly doubt that.”

Jungkook opens his mouth to argue with her - before Y/N’s attention is stolen by the figure that has just walked through the double doors of their lecture room.  Jungkook follows her gaze and smirks when he realises who she’s staring at.

“So you have the hots for Park Jimin then?”

Y/N’s eyes snap up to meet his and she seems flustered, “What?”

“You just looked at him like he rearranged the stars to spell your name,” Jungkook’s smirk widens, “You like him.”

Y/N looks ready to smack him across the face.  

“Shut up.”

“I’m not wrong though, am I?” When her eyebrows dip into a scowl, Jungkook knows he’s won this battle.  He leans towards her, conspiratorially. 

“I know Jimin well.”

That’s kind of a bold statement (and kind of a lie.)  Jungkook knows of Jimin.  He’s on the same dance team as Taehyung and Hoseok - two of Jungkook’s closest friends.  That’s enough of an in, isn’t it?

“No you don’t.”  She mutters with a roll of her eyes, “I can see where you’re going with this.”

“No seriously.  He’s best friends with Kim Taehyung,” Again a slight overstatement, but Jungkook doesn’t correct himself, “And Taehyung is like my brother.  We grew up together.”

“So what?  You help me out with Jimin and I have to do the same for Soomi?”  She scoffs, “Soomi and I are best friends.  I don’t want to lie to her.” “It wouldn’t be lying.”  Jungkook’s voice pinches a little, “It’s just helping fate along.” “Fate?”  Y/N’s expression morphs into one of disbelief, “Oh my god.  You really do have the hots for her.” “If cupid himself descended to earth and shot me in the ass with an arrow, I’d feel exactly the same for her.  Seriously.”

Y/N seems to contemplate the suggestion.  Her eyes move to meet the back of Jimin’s head - where he’s sat in the front row - and she sighs heavily.  Jungkook tries to read her face. 

Is she softening up to the idea?

“Let’s say I agreed to help you.”  Her voice is flat, “How can I be sure Soomi won’t just be another notch on your bedpost?”

Jungkook feels his chest constrict, “I resent that.  Just because I have more experience than others doesn’t mean I’m an asshole.  I don’t pursue women with the intentions of fucking them over.”

He won’t admit it but that assumption kind of pisses him off.  

When Y/N is quiet a moment longer, Jungkook sighs and tugs a hand through his hair. 

“If I do fuck her over…. Which I won’t.  I give you full permission to start a rumour that my penis is the size of a cocktail sausage.  I won’t even deny it.”

Y/N’s eyes widen and Jungkook notices (but doesn’t comment on) a red flush to her neck.

“Alright.  Fine.  I’ll help you out with Soomi, if you help me out with Jimin.”

Jungkook has to force himself not to punch the air in triumph.  Instead he grins - nice and wide - and nudges Y/N playfully, “I think this is the start of a very beautiful friendship.”

She groans.

“I’m already regretting this.”

//

Jungkook sends Y/N a text message the next morning, bright and early.  He doesn’t expect a response from her - he assumes she’s more of a night owl than an early bird - but then his phone pings in response and he has to say he’s a little surprised.

Jungkook: good mornin’ y/n… this is cupid calling 

Y/N: y’know..  I knew giving you my number was a bad idea 

Jungkook: oh c’mon don’t be like that, now that we’re friends you should definitely start warming up to me

Her reply takes a little longer but Jungkook isn’t worried.  Despite what she feels towards him, Y/N thinks her only way to Jimin’s heart is through Jungkook.  So she’ll just have to put up with it.

Y/N: I just puked in my mouth at the thought of warming up anywhere close to you.  Gross

Jungkook smiles at her response.

Jungkook: I think you like me more than you're willing to admit.  Anyway we need to get on with our…. Agreement.  Want to come round this evening to discuss arrangements?  I’ll even throw in some pizza and beer.

Y/N: I only like hawaiian.

Jungkook: Disgusting.  You and Namjoon will get on fantastically then.  Alright hawaiian it is. 

He sends her his address and when she replies with the puking emoji he laughs despite himself.

Maybe she’s not all that bad.

//

“Pineapple on pizza is a cardinal sin.” Y/N glares at Jungkook as she tucks into her third slice, “Why are you hating?”

“I just - I don’t get it.”

Y/N had arrived at his apartment earlier that evening with a six pack of beer in what Jungkook had assumed was a begrudging olive branch.  The two of them had spent the last hour discussing the delicate intricacies of mario kart, and Jungkook had found himself enjoying her company more and more.

He hated to admit it but she was kind of cool.

Only kind of, though.

“You don’t get it because your taste buds are subpar,” She moves her mouth into a small smile and Jungkook almost gasps at the gesture, “Hawaiian is the only acceptable way to eat pizza.  Period.”

“Y’know you look much cuter when you smile,” He quips, watching as she chokes on the last piece of crust, “You should do it more often.” Her eyes narrow into a glare, “I smile at people who bother to remember my name.”

“I thought you’d forgiven me for that.  I’m helping you out with Jimin aren’t I?”

Y/N laughs - and Jungkook is surprised at the warmth in her tone, “At a price.  Or are you forgetting I’m setting you up with Soomi?”

“Which reminds me,” He scoots closer towards her, pushing the pizza box out of the way, “What’s our plan of action?” Y/N seems to pause for a moment, her eyes flicking nervously across his face as she tucks some of her hair behind her ear.  Jungkook doesn’t comment on her sudden shift in behaviour, but he notices it. 

Man.  Girls are weird.

“I thought maybe… You could come over one night, to watch a movie or whatever.  And you could ask Taehyung and Jimin to join, too.”

Jungkook nods emphatically, “That’s a good plan.  Something intimate to really plant those seeds of love.”

Y/N laughs again and he notices the crinkles at the sides of her eyes when she does so.  Weird.  Why hasn’t he seen those before?  Admittedly… It’s kind of adorable.

“Plant those seeds of love,” She pulls a face, “You really are a wordsmith, Jeon Jungkook.” 

“Is it any wonder when my major is English lit?”

“Me too,” She cocks her head to one side, hair falling out from behind her ears, “Makes sense why you’re in most of my classes.”

Jungkook feels kind of (very) guilty as memories of their morning together are brought back.

“I really do feel like shit for not remembering you.”  He rubs the back of his neck in that universal boy sign for awkwardness, and clicks his tongue, “I wish I had.”

She shrugs, her eyes darkening a moment as she looks away, “It’s alright.  I’m kind of used to it to be honest.  Always been more of a... Background kind of person.” 

Jungkook clucks, like a mother hen disappointed at her chicks, “Hey don’t say that about yourself.”

When Y/N moves her eyes to meet with his own again, Jungkook notices she doesn’t seem angry or bitter.   Just resigned.

“But it’s true,” She licks her bottom lip and smiles almost sadly, “Soomi’s always been the centre of attention everywhere we go.  And I’ve known her… Forever, really.  So it makes sense.  Someone always has to take the back seat.  I don’t mind it.  Suits me just fine.”

Now Jungkook really feels like an asshole.  When she was prickly, it was easy to shove everything under the carpet, and pretend that not knowing her name wasn’t sort of horrible.

But now she was being nice, it made everything a hundred times worse.

“I’m sorry Y/N.  Really.”  

She meets his gaze again and smiles - this time a little lighter, “Don’t worry about it.  Now you know who I am… And you’ll never forget it.  Not least because I’m the love of your life’s best friend.”

Jungkook feels kind of awful right now, but he knows that apologising again will probably only annoy her.  He tucks his guilt somewhere into the back of his mind and smiles widely, trying to ease the mood.

“Right.  And I’m the person who is going to help you snag the man of your dreams!” 

She laughs at that, taking a final chug of her beer before setting the empty bottle to one side.

“Park Jimin here I come!”

“You’ve got a one way ticket to Bonetown and Jimin is flying first class!”

She laughs louder, this time snorting, “That makes no sense, but I’ll take it.”

They spend the rest of the evening hanging out in a way that feels strangely familiar, and it’s only when Y/N’s head begins to lull to one side that Jungkook realises it’s past three am.  And as he orders her an uber home, and insists she takes the final slice of pizza for the journey home, Jungkook realises that Y/N is more than just kind of cute.

She’s kind of great.

//

Later on that week, as Jungkook fills Namjoon and Taehyung in on his progress with Y/N, the former seems less than impressed.

“This is only going to end badly.”  Namjoon shakes his head, “Haven’t you ever seen a romantic comedy?  Shit like this only ends in tears.”

Jungkook takes a swig from his beer and rolls his eyes, “Have you ever tried to be positive a single day in your life Namjoon?  Y/N agreed to help me.  It’s progress.”

“But you dragged me into it,” Taehyung seems unimpressed, “And I told you me and Jimin aren’t even that close.”

“Okay so I might have embellished slightly….”

“Slightly?  You called us the best of friends,” Taehyung groans at his friend’s stupidity, “I’m not sure Jimin even knows what major I’m taking.”

“This is the most Jungkook problem of all time,” Namjoon guffaws at the situation, “How the hell are you going to sort this out.” “Tae - I just need you to convince Jimin to come on one date.”

Taehyung rolls his eyes, “I don’t know him that well, Kook.  What exactly am I supposed to say?” 

“I don’t know but you once convinced your mom those nudes of you that got leaked senior year of high school were actually for an art project,” Jungkook pleads with his friend, “I know  you can do this.” Taehyung laughs at the memory and pulls a face, “If he says no though, there’s not much else I can do.” “Fine.  But at least try.”

Jungkook knows that the universe is working in his favour.  It has to be.  The moment he laid eyes on Soomi he knew he’d never be happy again without her.

“Alright Kook I’ll try.  But I’m not making any promises.” Jungkook grins, “You’re the best.”

“I know I am,” He leans further back into the couch and grabs a slice of the pizza Namjoon ordered, surreptitiously picking off the pineapple, “Now what are you going to do about Y/N?” Jungkook raises a brow, “What do you mean?” “Well you described her as a she-demon,” Namjoon snorts, choking on some of his beer, “How exactly is that going to seduce Jimin?” “Remember everyone loves him,” Taehyung tacks on - less than helpfully - his smirk growing, “She’s going to have to get in line.” “Everyone does not love Jimin.”

Taehyung scoffs, “You’re kidding right?  I once watched him turn down three girls in one night.”

“Yeah.  This girl from my psych class says he’s still heart broken from his ex,” Namjoon seems to be enjoying Jungkook’s predicament a little too much, “Says he won’t even give anyone a chance.”

Jungkook refuses to let his friends’ pessimism get in the way of his elation.  He’s one step closer to Soomi, and if Jimin thinks he can be the one to stand in his way he’s got another thing coming.

“I’ll make it work.”  He answers with more confidence than he necessarily feels, “Besides, Y/N’s not that bad.  In certain lights she might even be considered kind of… Cute.  She’s just a little...brash.”

“Could her brashness towards you be due to the fact you forgot her name after an evening of vigorous love making?”  Taehyung gives his friend a knowing look, “I mean that would probably even hurt you Jungkook.  And you’re the master of not giving a fuck.”

“I apologised.”  He says it like that should fix everything, but in the depths of his heart Jungkook knows forgetting her name was kind of (really) shitty, “Besides.  If I really do set her up with Jimin and this all works out perfectly she’ll have a lot to thank me for.  Might even forgive me.”

Taehyung laughs and Namjoon pulls a face.

“We live in hope.” “That we do Joon.” Jungkook grins, “That we do.”

//

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