#weird and useless to discuss

[misterradio]

discourse is crazy sometimes u just have a divisive topic that rules your dashboard both sides duking it out and no conclusion is ever reached and then suddenly u realize u havent heard anyone say anything about it in years

[supermarine-silvally]

Yara, would you recommend eating a devil fruit or would you say it has too many drawbacks?

“As for me, I wasn’t much of a swimmer prior to eating the Tōka Tōka no Mi so I can’t say I miss it, though it can be rather annoying to have to be so mindful about not falling in the water. I ate mine in a moment of desperation, but if I were to do it all over again, I would make that same decision. Even if my fruit is basically offensively useless, I have an almost impenetrable defence, which suits me just fine as a swordswoman.”

Ask Yara (or any of my OCs) anything!

[sparklingblu]

Your sister Eunchae recently became and adult and lost her virginity but it wasn't as satisfying as she thought, so she talks to mommy sakura to see if she could give her advice from her experience on to properly please and be pleased. Sakura gives plenty of advice but she knows it's useless without practice so she asks for your help for some practical lessons.

Midnight Schooling

Ft. Sakura and Eunchae

(I got a lot of great ideas from you all but this one catches my eyes, so here it is. P.S Sorry this took like a month to write. Life has been busy lately)

“It’s just not like what I imagine…you know.”

Eunchae’s face was already red as a tomato as she recounted her experience. She doubted if anyone else would discuss their loss of virginity with their moms, but it’s not like she has anyone else. And bottling it up would make it even worse.

“And how do you imagine it would be?” Sakura asked as she flopped down next to Eunchae on her bed. Much to Eunchae’s surprise, her mom didn’t seem much surprised. Or maybe she’s doing it on purpose not to make her feel embarrassed.

“I…I don’t know. It was not horrible but….I just felt weird and uncomfortable. Like, was that really it?”

Sakura sighs, gently rubbing her back. “Sweetie, losing your virginity can be awkward and confusing at first. But it takes time to figure out what feels good.”

“I guess….” Eunchae mumbled, her voice descending to whisper.

A brief silence passed between them. Then Sakura's eyes widened slightly, like she just remembered something. “You did use protection right?”

“Y-yeah, of course,” Eunchae stammered, cheeks burning. “I made sure he wore a condom.”

Sakura nodded approvingly. “Good girl. It’s important to always protect yourself, no matter what.” She paused for a moment. “So, what’s the problem here? Was he too small? Too rough?”

“Mom, come on!” Eunchae protested, already feeling her face burning with shame. Did she really need to ask?

“Hey. If you don’t tell me, I can’t help you.” Sakura insisted, squeezing her arm gently. “There’s nothing to be embarrassed about.”

Eunchae sighed. “No, it’s not that. He just….he lasted like two minutes before finishing. And the position we did felt kind of…pointless?”

Sakura suppressed a smile at her daughter’s honesty. “Well, sweetheart, that's perfectly normal for a boy his age. They tend to be…eager.”

Eunchae groaned again. “Great, so I have to put up with that for a while?”

“Not necessarily,” Sakura said gently. “Communication is key in any relationship. You need to talk to him about your needs and expectations.”

“But I��m so embarrassed!” Eunchae wailed. “I can’t just come out and say ‘Hey, can you last longer next time?’”

“Why not?” Sakura shrugged. “If you’re not comfortable with something, you have every right to speak up. Your boyfriend should respect your boundaries and preferences.”

Eunchae considered, gnawing on her lip. “I guess you are right….but it’s still so awkward to talk about.”

“Well, how about this - when you’re alone together next time, start slow,” Sakura suggested. “Maybe just make out and explore each other’s bodies a bit. Let him work you up first before jumping straight to penetration.”

Eunchae blushed. She had never imagined that kind of stuff coming out from her mother’s mouth. Sakura always seems so composed. But she nodded anyway. “Okay, that could work…thanks Mom.”

“You’re welcome sweetheart,” Sakura smiled, standing up. “I’m always here for you, ok?”

Eunchae returned the smile, feeling a bit better. “I know Mom. Love you.”

“Love you too, Eunchae. Now get some rest.” With that, Sakura left the room, closing the door behind her.

When she was far enough from the room, Sakura let out a breath she had been holding for too long. She’s not an expert at this kind of stuff but she really hoped she had helped her daughter in some way. She wouldn’t say she’s a mother of the year but she has always tried her best and made sure that Eunchae grew up well and happy. But sometimes, even she feels like she’s not doing enough for her. The doubt that she’s going to fail at some point is constantly gnawing at her heart. Whether she’s going to finally fail this time, she wondered. 

Then an idea glimmered in her head. One so obvious she wondered how she had forgotten. Of course, you could help.

-

You are not sure if you have heard Sakura right. In fact, it sounds so ridiculous you won’t be surprised if someone tells you you are dreaming right now.

“Mom, you want me to what?”

And of course, there’s also the fact that your mom, of all people, is the one asking you the very question. Well, she’s not really your mother, not a real one anyway. But you have lived with her for so long, the term “stepmom” sounds harsh and unfamiliar.

Despite all this, Sakura’s face shows no sign of embarrassment or hesitation.

“Look, I know it may come out weird but you are the only one I could think of. And it’s not like you are a virgin, are you? There’s no way.”

If you could grow wings and fly away, now is the time. But unfortunately, you are stuck here, struggling to think of the most appropriate reply.

“And how do you expect me to help? It’s not like I could just-”

Sakura settles her hand on your thigh, as if already sensing your denial. You hate how she can easily see through you.

“Sweetie, I know I’m asking for a lot here. And I’m sorry if this whole idea makes you uncomfortable. But I don’t want Eunchae to live out her whole life with an idea that she will never have a fulfilling experience,” she pauses a while to take a breath. “And you know how she is. She would be too shy to do it again with anyone if she doesn’t get proper practice. It’s either you or no one else.”

You are silent for a moment. It’s true that Eunchae has always kept to herself, rarely opening up about her feelings. She’s always been the quiet one in the family and somehow, this moment of vulnerability makes her seem even more fragile.

“So….will you?” 

Sakura’s eyes, bright and curious, are fixed on yours, awaiting an answer. And you know there’s only one correct reply to her question if you don’t want to break her heart.

“Alright,” you finally say. “I will do it.”

Sakura’s lips curve up with the slightest hint of a smile. She nods, patting your thigh.

“Thanks. This really means a lot to us.”

And as she stands up to leave, you can’t help but feel like you are going to commit a crime.

-

You are starting to regret your decision. 

But the awkwardness is even worse. Seriously, who even is stupid enough to perform this kind of ridiculous act. A pervert, maybe. Does that make you one too?

It’s the dead of the night, and you are in Eunchae’s bedroom. This already sounds fucked up enough but it’s nothing compared to the fact that Sakura, your stepmon, is also a pat of this secret little meeting. A secret to no one except your dad, of course. That makes it sound even more fucked up.

Your eyes dart between the two women - Eunchae seems equally nervous as you, fidgeting with the hem of her shirt, her eyes downcast. But Sakura, of course, ever the cool and composed one, doesn’t look any different from the day she asked for your help. She looks giddy, even.

“Relax, sweetie,” Sakura purrs, running a hand down your chest. “This is going to be fun. I promise.”

You swallow hard, trying not to stare at the ample cleavage spilling out of her low-cut dress. You don’t wanna look like a pervert. Not now, at least. There will be plenty of time for it later.

“I…I don’t know about this…”

Sakura just smiles, her hand trailing lower to cup your erection through your pants. “See? Your body knows what it wants, even if your mind is being stubborn.”

She leans in close, her lips brushing your ear as she whispers. “Just go with it. Let me teach you both how to enjoy each other.”

With that, she turns to Eunchae, who’s watching the exchange with wide, curious eyes. “The first thing you need to know, Eunchae, is how to get him worked up. A turned on man is a pliable man.”

She demonstrates by kissing you deeply, her tongue tangling with yours as she rubs you through your pants. You moan into her mouth, your hips bucking involuntarily, seeking more of this delicious friction.

Sakura breaks the kiss, smiling smugly at your dazed expression. “See? Easy.”

She guides Eunchae to stand in front of you, positioning her so your erection is pressed against her belly. “Your turn, sweetie. Kiss him. Touch him. Get him riled up.”

Eunchae blushes, but follows Sakura’s instruction, pressing her lips shyly to yours. Obviously, she’s not as good a kisser as Sakura and it feels more like she’s trying to shove her tongue into your mouth. But who are you to complain?

While all this is happening, Sakura is already setting the next plan in motion. Her hands fumble with the waistband of your pants, sliding it down to release your mamba. 

You groan as your cock springs free, hard and leaking. Sakura reaches out, gathering the beads of precum with her finger and holding it up for Eunchae to see. 

“Taste it,” she encourages, bringing her finger to Eunchae’s lips. 

Eunchae hesitates for only a moment before sucking Sakura’s finger into her mouth, her eyes unblinking as she savours your taste. Sakura smiles approvingly, then gestures for her to kneel in front of you.

“Start by licking the tip,” she instructs, her hand stroking your shaft. “Get it nice and wet before taking it into your mouth.”

Eunchae nods, leaning forward to tentatively lick the head of your cock. You shudder as her tongue teases your slit, your hands clenching at your sides.

Sakura guides Eunchae’s head, showing her how to take you into her mouth. “That’s it. Nice and slow. Use your tongue.”

You moan as Eunchae starts to suck you off, her inexperienced but eager mouth, working you over and over. Sakura watches with a smile, her hand rubbing herself through her dress.

As time passes, Eunchae’s movements become more frantic, her head bobbing with an aggressive pace. If you don’t know any better, you would have thought she’s trying to suck the soul out of you.

But Sakura, watching intently, frowns slightly after a movement. “Wait, Eunchae, you are not using your tongue enough. Here, let me show you.”

She kneels down beside Eunchae, taking your cock into her own mouth. You gasp as 

she swirls her tongue around the head, lapping at your slit before sliding down your shaft. 

Sakura pulls back with a pop, stroking you lazily as she looks at Eunchae. “See how I’m using my tongue? You want to lick and tease as you suck, not just bob your head.”

Eunchae nods, blushing, and leans in to try again. This time, you can feel the difference as she takes you into her mouth, her tongue working you over as she sucks. 

You moan louder, your hand coming up to tangle in her hair. Sakura watches approvingly, a smirk on her face as she sees Eunchae’s improvement.

But after a few minutes, she taps Eunchae’s shoulders, signalling for her to stop. “That’s good, sweetie. But you don’t want to let him finish too early. There are still more lessons to get through.”

Eunchae pulls back, your cock slipping from her mouth with a lewd pop, a string of saliva hung between your tip and her lips. 

Sakura smiles, standing up and walking over to the bed. “Now it’s time to learn how to have sex,” she says, her voice low and sultry. “As soon as he’s nice and hard, that’s the next step.”

She bends over the bed, presenting her pale ass to you. Her dress is hiked up around her waist, revealing her wet, glistening pussy. “Come on, sweetie,” she purrs, wriggling her hips invitingly. “Fuck me with that big cock.”

You don’t need to be told twice. You step up behind her, gripping your cock and lining it up with her entrance. Sakura moans as you push inside, her tight heat engulfing you.

You start thrusting, your hips slapping against her ass. Sakura lets out the sweetest moans, pushing back against you to meet your movements.

“See how I’m moving with him?” she pants, looking over at Eunchae. “You want to work with his rhythm, not just lay there.”

Eunchae nods, watching intently as you fuck Sakura. Her hands grip the sheets, taking your relentless pounding as you ravage her like a madman. 

“Fuck! Yes! Just like that. Oh god-”

For a moment, you forget all about the fact that this is supposed to be a lesson. All you that occupy your mind is how perfectly Sakura walls grip your shaft, how wet and messy this whole thing is. 

But just as you start to lose control, Sakura pulls away, your cock slipping out of her dripping slit. You feel a pang of disappointment as your shaft is left unattended.

“Now you try, Eunchae.” she says, lying back on the bed and spreading her legs. “But I don’t want you to do the same position. Ride him. Let him see that you feel every thrust.”

Eunchae blushes, but climbs onto the bed, positioning herself over you and lifting up her skirt. You hold your cock steady as she slowly lowers herself down, her pussy engulfing you. For someone who just lost her virginity, she’s still unbearably tight.

It takes some work but Eunchae lets out the first moan once you are fully sheathed in her pussy. You soon moan along with her as she starts to move, rocking her hips. Sakura watches from the side, her hand snaking down to finger herself as she gives instructions.

“Use your hips, Eunchae. Grind against him,” she pants, her fingers working her clit. “Make yourself feel good too.”

Eunchae follows Sakura’s guidance, her movements becoming more confident. She bounces on your cock, her wet heat gripping you like a vice.

You watch as your stepsister’s innocence got reduced to nothing by none other than yourself. The shy, quiet girl is nowhere to be seen, replaced by the depraved, cock hungry slut riding your cock.

“Just like that, sweetie. You are doing so good. Show him how much you love his cock.” Sakura praises, her digits deep in her slit as she fingers herself to her daughter getting thoroughly ruined. 

You can feel your orgasm approaching, your balls tightening as Eunchae continues to ride you vigorously. And by the way she’s getting unbearably tight, she’s not so far behind either.

But once again, your pleasure is denied by Sakura.

“Okay, good job. But we don’t want this to end too quickly, do we?”

Eunchae whimpers, her hips still moving reflexively, but obeys Sakura and lifts herself off you. Your cock slips out of her with an obscene sound, still hard and glistening with her juices.

“Now it’s time to learn how to eat pussy,” Sakura announces, lying back on the bed and spreading her legs. “Come here, sweetie. I’ll show you how it’s done.”

You crawl over to Sakura, settling between her thighs. Her pussy is pink and swollen, dripping with arousal. “Start by licking my clit,” she instructs. “Use the flat of your tongue and apply pressure.”

You do as she say, leaning in and lapping at her clit. Sakura moans, her hips bucking up to meet your mouth. “Yes, just like that. Now, suck on it gently.”

You obey, closing your lips around her clit and sucking lightly. Sakura’s moans grow louder and more desperate, her thighs clamping around your head as she nears her peak.

“Fuck, yes!” She cries out, her back arching off the bed. “Don’t stop, baby. Make me cum on that pretty little mouth of yours.”

You double your efforts, sucking harder on her clit as you slip a finger inside her tight channel. Sakura screams, her pussy clamping around your digits as she comes hard, gushing all over your face.

You lap up her juice, relishing the sweet taste of her arousal. Sakura goes limp, panting heavily as she comes down from her high. 

“Very good, sweetie. Now it’s Eunchae’s turn. Make her cum just like you did with me.”

Eunchae gets into position, laying down on the bed and spreading her legs. You crawl over to her, settling between her thighs just like you did with Sakura.

You start licking Eunchae’s pussy, mimicking the movement Sakura taught you. Eunchae moans, her hips twitching as she tries to stay still.

Sakura watches, her hand idly stroking her pussy as she recovers from her orgasm. “That’s it, sweetie. Lick her nice and slow. Tease her a little.”

Eunchae’s moans fill the room as you work her over, alternating between licks and sucks. You can feel her getting closer and closer to the edge, her thighs trembling on either side of your head. 

“That’s it,” Sakura purrs, watching with hungry eyes. “Make her cum all over that sweet mouth of yours. Show her how good it feels to be eaten out by her brother”

Sakura’s filthy words urge you on and you redouble your efforts, fucking Eunchae with your tongue as you suck hard on her slit. She cries out, her pussy spasming as she comes undone, flooding your mouth with her essence. 

You lap up her juice greedily, savouring her taste. Eunchae turns boneless, chest heaving as she tries to catch her breath.

“Now, now, you can’t get tired yet,” Sakura tells Eunchae. “We still have to make him cum. Otherwise, it wouldn’t be fair. Afterall, he works so hard.”

Eunchae slowly gets up, her hair a mess as she climbs off the bed. You watch the two gorgeous women kneel in front of you, their eyes alight with desire.

“Now, Eunchae. This is the finishing touch. You can’t do any wrong here,” Sakura instructs. “Soft strokes, teasing touches…you want to drive him crazy before you empty his balls.”

Sakura begins stroking you,and soon, Eunchae follows. You groan as their delicate fingers work along your shaft, tending to every throbbing vein. They work perfectly in harmony, one pumping what the other can’t, so that no part of your cock is denied from pleasure.

“You like that baby?” Sakura asks, her voice breathy. “You like us touching your big, hard cock?”

“Fuck, yes,” you growl, your head swimming with the filthiest thoughts. At this point, you are not sure you even remember your name. Because it feels that good.

Sakura smirks up at you. “Mm, such a polite boy. But I think you deserve a special treat.”

She leans in, her hot breath ghosting over the head of your cock. “Don’t you think?”

She doesn’t give you a chance to respond before taking your tip into her mouth, her tongue swirling around the head. Eunchae is quick to join her, her lips gliding along your shaft.

“Oh fuck,” you groan, your head falling back as they blow you with enthusiasm. Sakura takes you deep, her lips stretched around your girth as she bobs up and down. Eunchae focuses on your balls, sucking and licking until they are tight and aching.

Just as it becomes too much to bear, Sakura pulls her mouth off your throbbing cock with a pop. She grins wickedly, her hand coming up to pump your shaft.

“That’s it, baby,” she purrs. “You’re close, aren’t you? I want you to cum all over our faces. Paint us nice and pretty.”

Eunchae joins in, stroking you in tandem with her mother. Their hands move in perfect sync, twisting and squeezing in just the right way to drive you wild. 

“Please, big brother,” Eunchae begs, her voice high and needy. “Paint me with your hot, sticky seed. I want to feel it dripping down my face.”

Hearing your stepsister talks drity for the first time finally pushes you over the edge. You explode, your cock pulsing as thick ropes of cum shoot out and splatter across Sakura and Eunchae’s faces. 

They moan in delight, their tongues darting out to catch the drops that land on their lips. Their faces are a perverted facial mask, adorned with pearly streaks of your seed.

When you are finally spent, they sit back on their haunches, grinning up at you with cum-streaked faces. “So messy,” Sakura giggles. “But so very satisfying. You did so well, sweetie. I’m so proud of you.”

Eunchae nods in agreement, licking a stray drop from the corner of her mouth. “Mmm, I didn’t think it would be that fun. Maybe we should do it again.”

You sigh, slumping onto the bed.

“Yeah. Yeah we should.”

-

[veltana]

Unleashed - Avengers!Bucky/Fem!Reader

✦ Pairing: Avengers!Bucky Barnes/Fem!Reader

✦ Word count: ~4,2k

✦ Rating: Explicit

✦ Warnings/tags: Sex pollen adjacent kinda, smut, a bit fluffy, one shot, possessive!Bucky, co-workers/friends to lovers, oral sex (fem receiving), unprotected sex, vaginal sex, multiple orgasms, forced orgasms, orgasm denial, dirty talk, praise, creampie, pet names (doll).

✦ Summary: During a mission, Bucky is exposed to something that removes his inhibitions and all he wants is you.

✦ Note: Previously posted on AO3 since I have basically no time or energy to write new stuff. It was titled You’re what I need before but I always hated that title so I decided to re-name it. Bucky is kind of an asshole in this, but it's just because he wants you! As always, reblogs, comments, and asks are very welcome ❤️

Masterlist | AO3

The worst part about watching from afar as a mission goes to shit is that you feel useless. Even as you dispatch medics for the team all you can do is tell them, "Help is on the way."

Captain America shouts orders that you hear through the comms. The wait feels endless until the crew of the quinjet declares that they have spotted the team and there's not much else for you to do but look at your monitors and wait for an update. When you get the call back that the team is secure you breathe a sigh of relief, but then the next message is to prepare the medical staff to receive multiple injuries and chemical exposure. You ask the crew to clarify, but they are too busy, so when you notify the medical center, they prepare a quarantine room.

Sometimes you wish you had a superpower and could be there with them instead of staring at your monitors and doing endless calculations on whatever the team needs. But then when they return they always compliment your work and tell you they don’t know how they managed without you. You try to remind yourself of those moments at times like this.

Once the quinjet is docked and everyone has been accounted for you push away from your desk and remove your headset, taking deep breaths and trying to calm your heart. A moment later a message pops up on your screen, probably because they couldn’t reach you through your comms. [Bucky wants you to come down here]

Your heart does a little flip in your chest, making you scowl. He is your friend and probably injured, you have no idea why he would be asking for you, but it’s not because he feels the same way you do. You grab your tablet and head to the MedBay.

When you get down you take stock of the situation. Nat and Steve have some scratches, Sam's arm is broken and Wanda has a few cracked ribs. Tony is bruised, his suit had taken most of the damage. You look around for Bucky but don’t see him anywhere and quickly deduce that he must be the person currently in quarantine.

When you get to the wing, you’re almost too scared to go in, afraid to see what could have happened to him. Inside, you find a team of medical personnel discussing Bucky's condition with him through a glass wall. His hair looks damp and he's wearing standard-issue quarantine clothing, soft black pants, and a black sweatshirt. When he sees you standing patiently at the side he says. "You can come back later. I need to talk to her more than I need to talk to you. Go away." His voice comes from speakers in the ceiling.

You're shocked by his behavior but smile apologetically as the white coats pass you on their way out. When you get up to the glass you hiss. "Bucky, what is wrong with you, don't be rude.” "You make it sound like I'm never rude otherwise," he laughs. "You're not rude to healthcare professionals, you know better." You glare at him as you wake your tablet. “Now what did you need me for?”

"Do you like me?" he asks. Your mouth falls open and your heart starts to beat faster. You’re happy your vitals aren’t monitored as you quickly collect yourself and try to deflect his question. "Of course I like you Bucky, you're my friend." But now it feels weird to look at him and you find a spot on the wall far behind him to focus on.

"What if I want more than friends?" is his next question and despite your best efforts, hope warms your chest. This is not happening. Of course you toyed with the idea of you and Bucky, he is always sweet to you, and if he has the chance he brings you gifts from the missions. But you’ve told yourself repeatedly that he needs someone stronger, who can keep up with him in the field and you’re not that person.

"Can we have this conversation when you are not high on some HYDRA drug?” you ask, trying to keep your voice from betraying you. They are monitoring everything in the room. And there is a sheet of unbreakable glass in between you both. If you're going to confess your feelings, it won't be like this.

"I'm not high," he huffs. "My mind has never been clearer." "I still think we should have this conversation later." "Doll, look at me." The command in his voice is so strong you don’t think, you snap your eyes to his and they are so blue and soft.

"I will feel the same tomorrow, and the day after, whenever this drug wears off but now is the only time I can't hold my tongue," he explains. You place your hand on the glass and he does the same on the other side. "It will be fine Bucky, I promise," you say just as the door opens and Steve walks in, making you pull your hand back to your side. He's showered, in a fresh pair of clothes and he swings his arm over your shoulder.

"Stop hogging her time Bucky, I know for a fact that she also needs to debrief," he smiles but Bucky looks as if he's seeing red. Through gritted teeth he presses out, "Get your fucking arm off her, punk. She's mine."

You and Steve burst into laughter because it has to be a joke, but then Bucky punches the barrier with his vibranium arm. The glass doesn't crack but both you and Steve stop short and step away in shock. Steve removes his arm and says, "I'll meet you upstairs." Before quickly heading out.

You turn to Bucky and point at him, anger rising in your chest. "What is wrong with you? Steve is your friend!" "That is what it’s like in here every day,” he points to his head. You're taken aback by his statement and his wide feral eyes. Clearly, whatever he was exposed to had messed with his head and he's not himself. “Bucky I need to go,” you tell him, and before he can protest you continue. “I’ll see you tomorrow.” You smile feebly at him and are out the door before he can say anything else.

After debriefing and having dinner you go to bed early. Your head is spinning with the day and most of all, Bucky.

It's way past midnight when you wake to the soft closing of your door. Since you always sleep with a night light the soft warm glow reflects off his left arm and leaves no doubt about who has entered your room. You blink at him but before you can ask a question he rasps out, pleading. "I need you. So bad. Please doll, help me." He moves closer to your bed.

You quickly remove your covers and get up, glad the giant t-shirt covers you to your thighs, ready to spring into action. "Anything Bucky, what do you need?" You stop an arm's length from him, but all he does is reach his hand out to cup your face, letting his thumb stroke your cheek. There is a wild look in his eyes but you keep calm. "I can't get you what you need if you don't tell me," you whisper, meeting his eyes and watching as his brow furrows.

"I need you. Right now. If I don't get to touch and taste every inch of your body I'm going to lose my mind," he confesses in a low voice. His words shock you and you hitch a breath. You’re not sure what you’re supposed to do. You have this great friendship. If things were different you would not have minded taking it to another level, but with the day in mind and the fact that he somehow got out of his containment room you say, "Bucky, you’re not yourself, you need to get back to-”

"Doll,” he interrupts with a hard voice. “For once, I feel more like myself than I have in a long time. The only thing the drug did, I think, was remove my inhibitions. For once I feel free. My mind isn't controlled by HYDRA or by fear that you'll reject me. All I know is that I crave you and I can't be quiet about it anymore.”

"Bucky… I…" your whole body is flushed with warmth from his words and you're not sure how to respond. "I dreamt about you and couldn't stop myself from going over here. I don't want to hurt you, doll, but I'm not sure this drug will let me leave. All I wanna do is move closer to you.” You swallow hard as he continues, thumb still stroking your cheek. “Ask FRIDAY to get Steve, or the Hulk if you want me to leave."

Instead, you step into him, making up your mind in an instant and resting your hands on his chest. "Stay, I'll be glad to help you with anything you need," you whisper honestly and by the way his eyes widen there was still some doubt in his mind that you would reject him.

Instead of saying anything his vibranium hand grasps your waist and pulls you closer. There is no escaping the smell and size of him and his hands on you got your pussy throbbing for him already.

"I hope you understand what you've agreed to," he whispers, leaning closer. "Once I have you I won't stop, you'll never be rid of me. I'll claim you against every surface of this fucking compound if I need to." That makes you whimper and press harder against him. "Fuck you'd like that huh? Are you a kinky little thing? Like getting fucked where people can see you and hear you moan, do you want people to see my hard dick spread you open?" "Fuck Bucky!" You exclaim and lean your forehead against his chest. Maybe that idea excites you or maybe it is just that the word ‘claim’ sounds so primal.

"You're going to tell me all your little secrets later, doll. But now, I'm going to take what's mine." And with that, he crushes his lips to yours. He backs you towards the bed, kissing you the whole time, letting his hands explore you. When you land on your back, he stands over you with eyes like a predator about to devour its prey.

You shuffle up until your head rests on the pillows, spreading your legs for him. Without taking off any clothes he crawls after you, settling on his knees between your legs and placing his hands on the headboard, crowding you with his large frame. "Mine," he whispers and it makes a shudder pass through you. He ruts his clothed cock against your core, slicking your underwear even more and making you whine, gripping the sheets under you.

"Yes," he almost hisses as the length of his dick presses on your clit and forces a mewl out of you. It's been a long time since you've gotten laid. "Bucky," you plead. "No doll, I'm going to enjoy every fucking second of claiming you, from the outside in. Did you think this would be hard and fast and that I would be gone before you knew what happened?"

He lets go of the headboard to put his elbows beside your head instead, his weight on you, pressing you down into the mattress. "When I leave you will long for me, spend every waking second wishing I was still inside you. I want your cunt to be permanently drenched so I can fuck you whenever I please." He kisses you forcefully and any coherent thought that was left in your head flees. "And when you're too sore to take more of my dick in your pussy I'm going to do the same thing to your mouth and ass."

He rids you off your t-shirt and instead of having to move from between your legs to pull off your underwear, he rips them apart. "Ah!" you exclaim when the force of his movements jolts you but he takes no notice, he just stares at you, letting his hands roam up and down your sides, up to your tits, cupping them and caressing your nipples with his thumbs.

Whimpers are coming from you with every pass of this touch. Then he moves down and lays on his stomach, not saying a word as he sweeps his tongue over your pussy before he starts devouring you with a throaty moan.

It doesn’t take long for the first orgasm to take you, his movements are precise and his words and actions have made you hornier than you’ve ever experienced. Or maybe it's because he is the hottest person you’ve ever laid eyes on and he only wants you.

When you’re finished and sensitive he dips his tongue into your hole to taste you and groans loudly, lapping up the wetness from your orgasm. "Better than I've dreamed of," he says when he pulls away. Now you’re the one that must be high because you can't help but giggle. "You seriously dream of me?" "All the time, doll. Every night when I go to bed I wish you were with me and then you plague my sleep with your soft curves and radiant smile."

You're about to tell him how his laugh makes you warm and fuzzy on the inside but at that moment he sucks your clit into his mouth, cutting out every thought in your brain. He's gentle but not hesitant, it's as if he's feeling you out and when you make a particularly loud sound he continues the same movement, making your whole body go hot.

The second orgasm is intense enough to send aftershocks through for a long while afterward. Bucky lays his head on your thigh as you tremble, caressing your skin and letting the fingers of his right hand skim over your opening.

Despite what he's already given you, you still crave more. His fingertips never come close to where you need them and when you whine at the back of your throat Bucky smiles up at you. "Don't worry, I'm not even close to done with you, but I don't want you to pass out on me.” One of his fingers glides inside, making you take a sharp breath just because it feels so good. Once again he is careful, moving slowly, listening to your breath and your body.

"Please Bucky, I need more.” "No need to beg, I'll give you everything you want… in time," he breathes and kisses the skin on the inside of your thigh. Slowly he moves his finger in and out. You're sure it's a form of torture. The sweetest kind there is. Your breathing is labored and when he finally adds a second, you start to quiver.

He nips at your skin and then kisses it before speaking. "You look like a goddess, doll, eyes filled with lust, your skin is gleaming. I'm going to worship you until you're tired of me.” "Never gonna happen," you whimper. Then his thumb lands on your clit, making you cry out. Everything is so sensitive and overstimulated.

"I don't- Bucky, I don't think I can again," you tell him even though his touches are causing your insides to melt. "Yes, you will," his voice is soft but the command is clear. So instead of trying to speak again, you sink further into the madness that is him playing with you. The third one takes its sweet time but you never feel rushed or stressed that it's taking too long. Bucky isn’t in a hurry.

Then it’s suddenly there, crashing through you. "Fuck Bucky, fuck you're gonna make me come." "So good for me, let me feel you come on my fingers," he urges. "I'm going to lick them clean afterward so make sure you get them nice and wet for me. I want as much as you'll give me." The climax reaches its peak and you come with a cry of his name, body convulsing and your hand shooting down to tangle in his hair.

"Just like that doll," he smiles up at you and holds your gaze when he pulls out his fingers and sucks them clean, moaning while he does. It's a filthy sound, but it turns you on as if he didn't just make you come for the third time. Then he dives in between your legs again, licking at your skin and your soaked hole. Letting go of his hair all you can do is just lie there, writhing, as he somehow coaxes a fourth orgasm out of you.

“Fuck me,” you plead when he pulls back. “I need you inside me Bucky.” This time he takes pity on you and moves away to take off his clothes. When he’s naked he kneels between your legs again and you spread them as wide as you can. "Want me, doll?" he asks with a smirk. He swipes his cock through your mess and then uses his hand to coat himself with you. "Yes," is all you can say. Both you and Bucky stare as he pushes his dick into you, filling you up completely. Of course, he takes it torturously slow this time too.

"This feels better than any dream I've ever had," he whispers almost in awe. You grip his biceps and arch into him, pushing him deeper, faster. That makes him tsk but smiles at the same time as he pushes the rest of the way, finally seating himself. Without giving you a chance to relax he starts fucking you, his cock pushes perfectly against your insides, pulling sounds from you that you haven't made in years.

He sits back on his heels lifting your ass effortlessly until your weight is resting on your shoulders and neck. It's like he is in a trance, pulling you onto his cock over and over again. Your body is his, your mind has fled, and all you see and feel is just him all around you. His eyes keep changing between his dick filling your cunt, your bouncing tits, and your half-lit eyes as if he is not sure where to look. "Mine," he rasps and thrusts hard to empathize the word. "All mine. Say it."

It takes some time for your brain to connect to your mouth and form the words but his gaze never leaves you. "Yours," you whimper. "I'm yours, Bucky." There is a familiar heat low in your belly that's steadily spreading through your limbs. It makes you wiggle and move because it's overwhelming. He is overwhelming in the best sense. Whining you reach down to rub yourself but he slaps your hand away. "I thought I told you, it's mine. I own this cunt. If you wanna touch yourself you have to ask permission." It's as close to a growl as is humanly possible and you don't understand how he can be so cognizant right now, because your brain is like putty. "Can I please rub my clit Bucky, I wanna come on your cock so bad," you cry.

"Good girl," he praises, and when he calls you that, your mouth falls open with a keening sound, gripping the sheets even harder, pulling at them because you want to come so bad. "Do it, show me how you get off when you're alone in bed without me." Everything is slippery and sensitive when you start with your fingers and you immediately know it's going to go fast. With his previous words in mind, you ask. "Can I come?" He meets your eyes with a wicked smile. "Fast learner. Yeah, you can come… when I tell you."

You rip your hand away, afraid you might fall over the edge at any second. The sound out of your throat is almost a sob. "Don't be like that, doll, I thought you said you couldn't do it more times?" "I can-I can! As many times as you want just please let me come." "Fuck, I like it when you beg with my cock in you." But he doesn't say anything else, just continues fucking you. He's not even winded while you're straining your entire body. Your hand wants to move back, anything to relieve the pressure inside you but Bucky was very clear and you don’t want to disobey him.

Then he pulls out and drops you onto the bed, but you don't get to relax because he flips you onto your stomach and pushes one of your knees up to the side before he presses in. His dick hits your G-spot dead on and you scream into the pillow under you. Bucky chuckles right by your ear. "Guess I found it." He's merciless, his hips hit your ass hard and if it weren't for his weight pressing you down you would soon hit the headboard.

"Bucky!" you wail because it's too much. You're losing the last pieces of your mind to the sheer force of the pleasure and you're scared you're never going to be able to come back to yourself. Then his hand presses in between you and the mattress. "Rub yourself on my fingers, make yourself cum. Fuck my cock and come all over me doll." You brace yourself as best you can and move your hips as he keeps almost completely still, just shallow thrusts in stark comparison to what he was doing to you just moments ago.

His fingers slide along your clit, his cock brushing your G-spot over and over again. You're breathless, sweat breaking out along your skin, but the climax you're chasing will be well worth it. You just know it.

"I can't fill you up until I’ve felt you come around me," he grunts, his voice tight with holding back. You whimper, the feeling of fire flushing your whole body, and building up to an eruption like no other. "Yes, yes, yes," he chants low in your ear. "That's it, come for me, make me proud. Fuck it feels so good." And he starts moving again "I'm going to fill you fucking full of my cum. That's it!"

The heat in you breaks and you come with a shout of his name, shaking under him. It gets even more intense when Bucky finishes right behind you, groaning your name. He collapses on top of you but his hips are still moving, slowly, as if he doesn’t want it to ever end. Neither would you but your body is wrecked.

When he finally rolls off, you're so close to falling asleep, but he picks you up and carries you to the bathroom. "Pee." He points and you want to tell him that you know the drill, this isn't your first time, but all that comes out is a grumble before he closes the door behind him and you sit down on the toilet.

When you're done, you stumble out and have a moment of panic, thinking he left. But then the door opens and Bucky returns with two bottles of water, handing you one before leading you to the bed and sitting you down on the edge. Gratefully you drink and lean against his shoulder before asking. "How do you feel?" "Better than I have in a long time," he answers, kissing your forehead. You chuckle. "Yeah I have a magical pussy, it can cure anything," you joke and it makes him laugh. "You should get back to quarantine," you comment. "Before anyone notices." He shakes his head. "No I'm staying here, I'm never leaving you again." He takes the bottle from your hand and places it on the bedside table together with his own. Then he crawls beneath the sheets and you go after him, letting him envelop you in a tight embrace before you fall asleep.

Alarms blare and you wake with a start. "FRIDAY what's going on?" you ask out into the room. “Sergeant Barnes has escaped his confinement.” The voice echoes through the room. You sigh and glare at Bucky grumbling beside you, like the loud signal is just a regular alarm clock. "FRIDAY please inform the team that Bucky is here and everything is fine."

A second later the sound dies and with a sigh you get up to pull on yesterday's discarded t-shirt and find a pair of pants. Right when you're done there is a knock on the door and Steve asks, "Everything okay in there?" You open the door enough to show yourself. "We're fine, he broke out during the night and came here." "Oh," Steve says and there is a hint of blush on his cheeks.

Then you feel a presence behind you and Bucky’s arm goes around your waist. "Mine," he says and you can't see him but he's probably glaring daggers at Steve who backs away. "We'll be okay, I'll alert FRIDAY if I need help," you tell Steve. When you close the door Bucky turns you before pushing you up against it and kissing you hard. "Mine," he mumbles against your lips. "Fucking caveman," you tell him. He grabs you around the waist and throws you over his shoulder. "I'll show you caveman," he says and carries you to the bed

[cybergoth1]

beyond the cowl | chapter 02 | batfamily x isekaide!reader

masterlist | chapter 01 | chapter 03.

synopsis: ❛❛you're just a normal twenty-one-year old girl trying to navigate life with a shitty job and a useless degree. life isn't easy, and between expensive therapy sessions and the constant feeling of failure, you suddenly wake up in a body that wasn't yours, with a past that wasn't yours. now, in another dimension, you're dealing with the fact that you're a crucial part of the caped crusade that shaped bruce wayne's life. you're the second robin, the former girl wonder, and the vigilant gotham needed so much.❞

warnings/tags: +18. roy harper being hot. swearing. batfamily group chat. 2.5k words.

You eat your dinner in total silence, a little surprised that Alfred knew about your deadly olive allergy, your plate the only one carefully cleared of them. The food in front of you was so fancy your broke ass couldn’t even pronounce the name of it, so you decided to keep your mouth shut and take in the room and the people around you instead.

Everything screamed old money. From the antique chandelier overhead to the kind of silverware that probably cost more than your rent, it was like stepping into a museum you had no business being in. The people, too — elegant, composed, practically born knowing which fork was for the salad. Even Damian, the demon spawn, knew how to use the cutlery in front of him. You stuck out like a sore thumb, but no one said anything.

They probably assumed your last concussion was the one to blame for your lack of manners.

Fine by you. A win is a win, right?

Just hours ago, you were feeling miserable at your dead-end job in another reality and now here you are, eating mystery French cuisine in Wayne Manor, pretending you weren’t hyper-aware of every awkward move you made.

You reached for your glass and nearly knocked over a tiny spoon. Why was there a spoon that small? Was it decorative? Symbolic? Rich people were weird.

Across the table, someone cleared their throat.

You glanced up and instantly regretted it.

Bruce Wayne was looking at you. Not judging, exactly. Just… observing. Like you were some kind of puzzle he hadn’t decided whether to solve or ignore.

You froze halfway to sipping your water. "What?" you asked, maybe a little too defensively. You were absolutely shitting yourself. It was horrible not knowing what kind of relationship the two of you had. You had no idea how to act around him, and that uncertainty clung to you like sweat.

He raised an eyebrow. "Nothing. Just… haven’t seen someone look at a bouillabaisse like it personally insulted them."

"That’s a bouillabaisse?" you muttered, looking down at the bowl. "Thought it was a seafood crime scene."

There was a pause. Then, from your left, a quiet snort followed by full-on laughter from Dick. Your lips twist into a smile as you take another bite. Making handsome men laugh is your specialty, especially as a barista. Or, well… It was. In your actual life. The one you went to sleep in.

Across the table, Bruce, actual billionaire, actual legend, actual Batman, you have to remember, looks at you again. "We should discuss your new position at Wayne Enterprises," he says, as if that sentence makes any kind of sense.

Your brain short-circuits. "My what now?"

Without missing a beat, he slides a black folder toward you. It lands by your plate with a soft thump, heavy with something terrifying. Responsibility.

"This outlines your role, department assignments, project overviews, and benefits package. Alfred mentioned you prefer early mornings. We can accommodate that."

You stare at the folder like it just sprouted fangs. Position? Projects? Benefits?

What position? You’ve been here, what — a day? Half a day? You woke up in a room you didn’t recognize, in a reality that isn’t yours, wearing silk pajamas and the weight of a whole new identity.

You’re just a barista. You don’t belong here. But you’re in this body, her body, and no one seems to notice the swap. Dick raises his glass in your direction with a crooked grin. "Damn. Look at you, finally putting that business degree to use."

Your head jerks toward him. "How do you even know I have a business degree?"

What the hell?

You didn’t have a business degree.

Your dumbass majored in History.

"Uh, because we grew up together?" he laughs. "And we were in the same econ class. You slept through most of it and still got a better grade than me. I never let it go."

You force a smile, nodding slowly, trying not to show the full-body panic crawling up your spine. "Right. College."

You have zero memory of that. But clearly, in this version of reality, you and Dick Grayson went to college together. Shared classes. Possibly beers. Maybe even notes. You were part of his world long before this dinner, before this moment, and now you have to play along like this isn’t all brand new.

You open the folder, half expecting gibberish or maybe Monopoly money. Instead you saw real documents. Real salary. Health insurance. Stock options.

"What the hell is happening," you mutter under your breath, not even pretending anymore.

Damian, still buttering his roll with all the menace of a Bond villain, doesn’t look up. "You’re being absorbed into the machine," he says flatly. "Welcome to capitalism."

You turn your head too fast to glare at him and a sharp sting blooms at your temple like a firecracker going off under your skin.

"Shit," you mutter, hissing as your hand flies up instinctively. Your fingers brush gauze and medical tape. There’s a bandage there, snug, slightly crusted at the edge with dried blood. You hadn’t even noticed it until now. Dick’s chair scrapes back before you can process much more. "Easy," he says, already moving toward you. "Let me take a look."

You blink up at him. He crouches beside your chair, all calm focus, like this is routine, like he’s patched you up a hundred times before. Maybe he has. Maybe she has.

His hand is warm and steady as he gently brushes yours aside. "You’re supposed to let me know when it starts hurting again," he says, voice low. A quiet scolding. Gentle, but real.

You don’t know what to say. You didn’t even know it was hurting. You didn’t know you had a horrible head wound until ten seconds ago. Dick crouches beside you, eyes scanning your face with the kind of attention that makes you feel like maybe she, the version of you that belongs here, is someone important to him.

"Come on," he says gently. Before you can ask where ‘come on’ is, he helps you up with one hand at your elbow and starts guiding you out of the dining room, quietly, without making a scene. Bruce barely glances over, Alfred gives a slight nod, and Damian doesn’t bat an eye.

Apparently, this is normal. You’re normal here. The hallway is cooler and quieter, the buzz of dinner fading behind you. Your footsteps are unsteady, and Dick notices. He slows his pace, staying close.

"You’ve had worse," he says, trying for lightness, but you can hear the edge of worry behind it.

You glance up at him. "You keep track of my injuries?"

He smiles, not his usual cocky grin, but something softer. "Somebody has to."

He leads you into a small sitting room tucked at the end of the corridor, high ceilings, dark wood, old books. It’s quiet here, thick with the kind of hush that only mansions seem to have.

"You wanna sit?"

You nod, and he helps you lower onto the edge of a leather sofa. Then he disappears briefly into the adjoining room and comes back with a first aid kit tucked under one arm.

He kneels in front of you again, opening the kit with practiced fingers.

"Still can’t believe you walked away from that fall," he murmurs, peeling off the tape with gentle precision. "You’re tough. But stubborn as hell."

You laugh, dry and confused. "That does sound like me."

He pauses, looking up. You meet his blue eyes, and for a moment it feels like he sees you, not just the version of you that belongs here, but you.

"You’re different," he says quietly. Not accusing. Not suspicious. Just noticing.

You panic. "Different how?"

He shrugs a little. "Not in a bad way. Just… quieter. You’re usually mouthier."

You almost smile. "I’ll try to insult you more next time."

Dick grins and tapes a fresh bandage in place, his touch careful. "There she is."

He stands, brushing his hands on his jeans, then looks down at you with a fondness that leaves you breathless.

"Sit tight, little wing. I’ll bring you some water."

There it is again, little wing, and it hits just as hard the second time. You nod, trying not to look like you’re unraveling from something as simple as kindness. He leaves the room, and you’re alone. Sitting in someone else’s life, wearing someone else’s name and skin, trying to breathe through the ache in your head and the weight in your chest.

What the hell are you supposed to do now? Keep pretending? Keep lying to these people and yourself? But, hey, little did you know, the worst was yet to come.

Dick didn’t just hand you a glass of water. He handed you a phone.

"It’s finally ready. B asked me to give this back to you," he said, holding it out.

Your phone.

Except it wasn’t your cracked Android with the glittery case. No. This thing was sleek, matte black, probably bulletproof, the kind of phone that could hack into satellites or call the president.

You took it hesitantly, like it might detonate.

"Thanks," you said, holding the high-security tech brick like it was a cursed object. Then, awkwardly looked at his pretty face, "I mean it. Thanks for… uhm, everything, Dickie."

The nickname slipped out so naturally it startled you. Like muscle memory. Like you’d been calling him that your entire life.

Dick looked at you with the softest blue eyes and a shy smile that made your stomach twist. There was something unbearably gentle in the way he looked at you, like he was watching someone he’d nearly lost. It was so much love, it made you want to look away.

"Sleep tight, girl wonder".

"You too…"

You wait for him to leave before unlocking the phone, praying there’s not some retina-scan protocol you’re about to fail.

It opens. The wallpaper it’s a selfie, your face… Well, her face, laughing in the sun, sunglasses perched on her head like life is just a montage of beach days and brunch. In the background, the water is crystal clear, turquoise, and absurdly picturesque. You can see Stephanie Brown striking a dramatic pose behind you, half-submerged and very sun-kissed.

It looks like Bali. Or the Maldives. Or some other place you’ve only seen on travel vlogs during your break at the café. Who knows. You were too broke in your actual life to even understand that kind of luxury.

You blink at the photo like it might shift into something you do recognize. But it doesn’t. It’s just this happy, glowing version of you, surrounded by beauty, friends, wealth, and none of it feels real. None of it feels like you. But you decided to dig it deeper. You slide to the Messages app like it might slap you and—

Wow.

The sheer number of messages waiting for you was actually insane. Wild, even. Especially considering your only friends in your real life were your mom and your older sister, and neither of them even texted that often.

You hesitated, then opened the family group chat.

Jason: hey quick q @yn

Jason: can i borrow like 5k

Jason: u rich now

Jason: also u still owe me from that one time i saved ur life from ur own bad decisions

Steph: Which time? Be specific.

Tim: Can we not start this again? I’m literally trying to sleep.

Cass: ….

B: Don’t lend Jason the money.

You scrolled, already snorting, until you found your last contribution to the chaos:

You: fuck off jason r u allergic to an honest day of work or smth

Jason: or smth

Yeah. That tracks. You back out of the group thread and scroll through your private messages. Dick’s texts are frequent and sweet, full of check-ins and bad jokes. He’s clearly your soft spot, and it’s mutual. You two clearly shared something special.

Dick: Stop flirting with death and answer your phone.

Dick: Just ate an entire pie. Alfred is judging me.

Dick: Miss your dumb jokes. Come home soon.

Then there’s Bruce, and he’s somehow the driest and weirdly affectionate person alive.

Bruce: I’ve reviewed the patrol reports. Acceptable.

Bruce: I left your favorite tea in the study. Drink it. You need rest.

Bruce: Proud of your work last week. You’ve grown.

And then you stare at the most recent one like it’s a hallucination. Things went downhill fast. Because there’s Roy Harper. And the Titans group chat, nice. Apparently, you were part of another superhero team. Because being Bruce Wayne’s ward and part of this weird ‘vigilant cult’ wasn’t enough existential horror. No. You were also a titan.

Fuck.

And again… There’s Roy Harper.

Roy: Thinking about you in that stupid little outfit you wore to training. I hate you.

Roy: Look what you did to me.

Roy: You’re gonna have to fix this, doll.

You tap the attached file before your common sense can kick in and your soul immediately leaves your body. That’s a dick pic. A nice one.

There is a literal dick in your phone. Right there. Center stage. No warning. Roy Harper. Fully committed. Your eyes go wide. Your face drains of color. You sit frozen, paralyzed by a full-frontal crisis. And as if the universe hadn’t humiliated you enough, you watch in horror as the typing bubble appears.

Roy: I can see you online, pretty girl.

You let out a strangled sound somewhere between a dying bird and a scream. And it didn’t stop there, God clearly wasn’t giving you a single moment of peace. Because right after the unsolicited anatomy lesson from Roy Harper, your new phone started ringing.

In a panic, you answered it without even checking the name. Your voice came out small and uncertain.

"Hello…?"

"Yo, I need to crash at your place. I’m in the Narrows and some dickhead just broke two of my fingers. I’m sleeping there tonight," Jason Todd said casually, like he was asking to borrow sugar, over the sound of definite gunfire, someone screaming, and what might’ve been a Molotov cocktail.

You froze. "Wait, what—?"

"Don’t worry, I’m fine," he cut you off, breathless, followed by a bang that sounded way too close to his face. "Your place still got the fire escape window unlocked?"

Your place?

You lived at Wayne Manor now. Right?

"Jason, I’m literally in the manor."

"Yeah, I know," he grunted, like you were the idiot here. "I’m breaking into your apartment. Just figured I’d let you know in case you left a taser in the fruit bowl again."

Another bang. Another yell.

Then, almost as an afterthought:

"Oh, and I saw your new photoshoot in Vogue. You look hideous, by the way. Like someone deep-fried a socialite. Bye."

Click.

You stood there, phone still pressed to your ear, staring into the abyss.

Roy’s nudes. An apartment you didn’t know existed. A Vogue spread?!

"What the actual fuck is my life," you whispered.

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[renthony]

I keep seeing people say that video game streaming isn't a form of art, and it blows my mind, because...yes it is? It is several forms of art, actually? Video editing is an art form all on its own, but even people who don't do a lot of editing are still doing creative things.

People who tell jokes during streams are basically doing stand-up comedy. Being consistently funny and having good comedic timing is an incredible art that a lot of people struggle with! Stand-up is a performing art!

People who get really into the roleplay of the game are also doing performance art. If they've brought their own OC into it, they're doing creative writing and performance art. It's in the same vein as TTRPG live-plays!

People who delve into deep discussion of the game's story and themes are doing genuine media analysis. Games are an art form that deserve such consideration and love!

People who talk about the game mechanics and movesets are commentating, similar to sports commentators--which is absolutely an art form and a skill! People who give advice and show how to do things are offering immersive tutorials, and typically also offering that aforementioned commentary.

People who sit silently and just show off how they play the game are still giving others the chance to experience the game's artistry without having to shell out a bunch of cash they don't have.

I don't get why "video game streamer" has become the new go-to thing to mean "useless and not creative." It's weird. It also usually comes packaged with a shitload of unexamined ableism, when people start in with the "but they don't CONTRIBUTE to SOCIETY!" shit.

[tagasaing]

i have to get this out of the way, re: dungeon meshi discussions

major spoilers ahead, obviously.

you know for a series that focuses so much on platonic and familial relationships it’s weird that dungeon meshi has attracted so much useless ship wars though. the most important driving force in the story is two sibling relationships (laios’s search for falin, thistle’s search for delgal) and one of the central themes is how loving others way too much can lead to your downfall (thistle’s desperate attempt to keep his loved ones leads to his mental state deteriorating so much he starts torturing people he claims to protect, marcille’s fear of losing her friends leads to her being easily manipulated by the main antagonist)

even with regards to falin. thistle wants to bring the ‘brother’ he raised back at all costs, he saw a young human woman as nothing more than a dragon, his tool. marcille wants to bring falin back at all costs, she didn’t care about the repercussions of using monster meat instead of animal meat even though she was an expert at ancient magic and should know why it’s such a dangerous practice.

each and every single one of the major characters has some form of tragedy with their family one way or another: the toudens, marcille and her dad. chilchuck and his wife. senshi’s entire backstory. izutsumi’s hidden desire for a mother. namari’s father. shuro and his family. kabru and his mother(both tallman and elf). mithrun and his brother. thistle and the melinis.

even some of the minor characters: flamela and her dead twin sister. the twins and the floke couple. kuro being the closest mickbell has to a family. etc etc

as someone who has reread this manga several times by now, i wonder if people just… read it once as fast as they could and act like they’re some sort of authority on fan discussion. i’ve seen people brag about reading the entire thing in one sitting as if it’s something to be proud of. this manga isn’t meant to be read that fast, that’s how you get people claiming that laios doesn’t reaaally love falin as much as marcille does.

to these people, laios just gets in the way, as if it wasn’t his idea to go down the dungeon in the first place, it wasn’t him who said his pain doesn’t matter because falin suffered more than him, it wasn’t him who felt immense guilt for leaving falin behind, it wasn’t him who found her skull, it wasn’t him who killed her to save her from her chimera form. i feel like people forget about the ‘too’ part when marcille said “i miss falin too”

marcille knows how much falin and laios love each other. that’s why she asked him if she’s allowed to resurrect her and didn’t act on her own. that’s why when both times a shapeshifting monster copied marcille to trick laios, it was what she looked like at the time she was reviving falin.

as someone who DOES ship farcille, none of the romance is canon. this isn’t meant to be anti-farcille. one of the post-canon comics is about falin gently turning down shuro because she wants to travel the world, “you can’t tie a dragon down” after all. she wants to travel the world and find herself because she doesn’t know who she is outside of marcille and laios. even marcille, who was hoping she’d reject him, tears up because of how beautiful and tragic it was.

there are a lot of ship teases because what author doesn’t like a good ship tease. but to say that dungeon meshi is a romantic love more than it is a story about family(both real and found) is a great misinterpretation of the text.

[docdudo]

Hi!! I want to start by saying I absolutely love your writing! It’s great writing and is pretty good for me to understand (English isn’t my first language).

I just wanted to ask, How do you think poly hybrid 141 would react to adopted reader getting sick?? And I mean really sick, like a good case of the flu that takes a whole week, like 7 days and antibiotics to go away??

I could see them being so worried and stressed, taking her to doctors and everything because they get better in 24-48 hours with their fancy strong immune systems! I also wonder if adopted reader would be confused by going to the doctors, because if anything happend while in previous foster homes, she was told to just figure it out and get better on her own.

You are right about one thing: hybrids have a better immune system than humans do!

Humans are considered weak and frail in every sense of the word. That includes their health. In fact, a human's health is so discussed that specialists from other races all study the human body constantly so they would be able to treat one, would they ever needed it.

(Because of the lack of total humans on this universe, it's rare to find a human doctor, for example. So, other races have to cover for them in a lot of different fields. There are programs and organizations in this world that entierelly foucused on making sure the few humans that exist would get the care they need. So, for example, if you are a doctor and also specialize on taking care of humans beside some other race, you would probably be paid more by the governement).

Now, little reader getting sick? Like, really sick? Yeah, that house is turning upside down. As hybrids, the whole 141 pride themselves on being good caretakers and providers. They also know how much more frail humans are compared to them.

But know is different from experiencing.

Little reader would start off with the typical signs of the flu. Stuffy nose, throat a bit sore, a sluggish body. All that. But, as we all know, it's very quick for sickness to develop. And in the spam of a night, little reader is waking up with a high fever and a weak, useless body.

The 141 would notice almost immediatly. They can smell how sick you are, even from your room. That weird, almost sour smell that we can usually smell when we blow our nose.

Before you know it, you would probably be in Price's or Soap's arms, surronded by their warmth, hearing their cooed words that make zero to almost no sense to your sick and hazy mind.

And at first, they are very much panicking. They are calling the rest of their pack while cooing and conforting you, Laswell being the one to tell them to immediatly take you to the doctor.

And they do, everyone going on the car together, because if one of them had anything to do that day, it's immediatly getting canceled. They would still hold you close, on their laps, and every single one of them are cooing quietly at you. Even Ghost. Tho his "cooing" sounds more like his normal voice, just extra quiet and gentler than usual.

And it's true, you're not that used to going to the doctor. You usually never get that sick, and as a foster kid, it just doesn't happen often.

But, you were feeling pretty hazy, mind clouded and feverish. You barely remember going that first time to the doctor with them.

You barely remember the kind doctor that was trying his best to easy your foster parents' worries, and all the examination he did on you, even if you couldnt cooperate much with how confused you were.

You certainly got treated at the hospital and monitored until your fever came down a bit. After that, they send you back home with your parents, who had gotten a lot of new instructions and medicines to properly take care of you at home.

You took almost a full week to finally start getting better.

They would't let you sleep in your room anymore, since you got sick, you had been sleeping on their shared nest, with them. They would constantly check on your breathing and heartbeats, and would even feed you themselves and make sure you were plenty hydrated.

And even after you got better, they would still be extra careful and overbearing for a little while longer.

You can be sure that they would be taking extra measures now so that you never get sick again.

[xuchiya]

teasing is the new delulu || song mingi || one-shot

| genre: fluff. slice of life. enemies-to-lovers- kind of trope. office kind of trope. | mentions: literally teasing each other. you teasing him. mingi teasing you.

You had just returned from the meeting, the weight of the day pressing down on your shoulders as you glanced at the clock—5:00 PM. Just thirty more minutes and you could finally crash onto your bed, the thought of sleeping a siren’s call after the endless back-to-back discussions. With a sigh, you placed your laptop onto the table and sank into your chair, scribbling down the tasks you had been assigned.

The office was alive as always, filled with the familiar sounds of rapid keyboard clicks, quiet chatter, and the occasional teasing among soft-developers. From across the room, a burst of laughter echoed as someone cracked a joke, while outside the glass walls, people were already packing up, ready to return home.

Just as you were about to start your task—at least for a few minutes—your product manager called your name. You looked up to see her sliding her laptop aside, motioning for you to pull up a chair.

“I have a few things to show you,” she said, her expression a mix of amusement and expectation.

Here’s the thing—your office wasn’t like the usual corporate setting with cubicles and private desks. Instead, it had the feel of a studio apartment, open and collaborative, with long wooden tables where everyone worked side by side. It was the kind of environment that thrived on creativity rather than competition, where ideas were shared freely, and camaraderie flourished.

You grabbed a chair and settled in between her and your fellow intern. But the moment you took your seat, you realized something.

Of course, your product manager preferred you nearby whenever you worked on layout designs, which meant sharing a workspace with none other than Song Mingi.

And that meant war.

“You’re seriously using that color palette?” Mingi’s voice cut through the air, his tone a perfect mix of judgment and disbelief as he side-eyed your screen like it personally offended him. You didn’t even look up. Smirking, you clicked on another shade—just to be extra. “You’re seriously still breathing near my workspace?”

His jaw dropped in exaggerated betrayal. “Unbelievable.”

Your bickering had long since become a staple of the office. So much so that even your supervisors had started teasing you both, throwing around comments like, “Married couple energy,” and “Just confess already,” every time you two went at it. It was routine. Comfortable.

And most importantly, it was fun.

But today, you decided to flip the script.

As you placed the final layer on your tab, you leaned in slightly, resting your elbow on his desk and tilting your head just enough to breach his personal space. “Why so grumpy today, Mingi? You’re usually better at keeping up.”

You saw it instantly—the way his fingers twitched against the keyboard, the slight stiffening of his shoulders. “I’m not grumpy,” he mumbled, eyes locked on his screen like it held the secrets of the universe.

You didn’t need to look hard to see the telltale flush creeping up his neck. From this angle, he was absolutely flustered. Grinning, you seized the opportunity. With a swift flick, you tapped his ear.

“Really? ’Cause your ears are turning red.”

Mingi choked. “W-What? No, they’re not!”

Laughter bubbled up in your chest as you tapped his shoulder lightly, reveling in the way he tensed under your touch. “Aw, did I make Mingi shy? That’s cute.”

His eyes darted around the room as if searching for backup, but it was useless—everyone else was very pointedly pretending not to be invested in your little exchange.

“I’m not shy,” he muttered, voice barely above a whisper. “You’re just—you’re being weird.”

Feigning offense, you pressed a hand to your chest. “Me? Weird? I’m just having a conversation with my favorite co-intern.”

His head snapped toward you so fast you were sure he nearly gave himself whiplash. “F-Favorite?”

You winked, returning your attention back to your work. “Don’t let it get to your head.”

Mingi let out a strangled noise before dramatically spinning his chair away, his entire body radiating flustered energy. “I’m done with this conversation.” Chuckling, you leaned back in your chair, watching as his shoulders remained stiff, his ears still noticeably red.

This was new. And honestly? You were going to milk this moment for all it was worth.

The teasing didn’t stop there.

Later that evening, the entire office spilled onto the lively streets, stepping out for a well-earned dinner after surviving endless nights of debugging and stress-fueled coffee runs. The nearby food park was alive with movement—bright lights strung between stalls cast a golden glow over sizzling grills, the air thick with the mouthwatering scent of smoky meats and fried street food. Laughter rippled through the crowd as vendors called out orders, the hum of conversation blending with the occasional clatter of utensils.

Your stomach growled as your eyes locked onto your favorite stall—the one selling those golden, crispy, cheese-filled corndogs you had been craving for weeks. Your steps quickened in anticipation, but just as you reached for your wallet, a sudden tug at your ID lace yanked you back.

You stumbled slightly, whipping around with a glare. “Are you serious?”

Before you could react, a group of kids darted past you, barely missing your legs. Mingi let out a quiet sigh of relief, though he quickly masked it with a smirk. “What?” he shrugged nonchalantly. “Just making sure you don’t run off. like those kids”

You rolled your eyes. “Very funny.” Reaching for your ID, you tried to snatch it back, but he was faster, holding it just beyond your reach with a smug grin.

“Mingi,” you warned, stepping closer. His smirk faltered ever so slightly. “W-Wait—”

You surged forward, stretching up to grab your ID. Your fingers brushed against his, the warmth of his skin sending a small shiver down your spine. It wasn’t until you finally reclaimed your ID that you realized just how close you were. Your faces were barely a breath apart, the faint scent of his cologne mingling with the air around you.

His eyes widened, his usual confidence slipping for just a second. And there it was—that telltale shade of red creeping up his ears.

“Oh?” A teasing lilt curled into your voice as you tilted your head, your hand still resting lightly against his chest. Your fingers curled slightly against the fabric of his shirt, feeling the rapid thump of his heartbeat beneath your palm. “Why do you look so nervous?”

“I-I’m not,” he stammered, stepping back so abruptly that he nearly tripped over his own feet.

You chuckled, the sound light and teasing. “Aw, is Mingi getting flustered again?”

“N-No!” he protested, clearing his throat as he turned toward the menu like it was the most fascinating thing in the world. “What do you want to eat? My treat.”

You arched a brow, crossing your arms. “Trying to change the topic, are we?”

“I just don’t want you saying I don’t treat my ‘favorite co-intern’ well,” he muttered, still steadfastly avoiding your gaze.

This was too fun.

You leaned in ever so slightly, watching with amusement as he stiffened. “Careful, Mingi,” you murmured, your voice dropping just enough to make his ears turn impossibly redder. “I might start thinking you actually like me.”

He nearly choked on air. And with that, you walked ahead, leaving him standing there—red-faced, heart racing, and utterly, helplessly flustered. As you reached your table with your food, you couldn’t help but notice Mingi stealing glances your way, his flustered expression lingering even as he tried to act normal. 

His fingers drummed idly against the side of his drink, but his eyes kept flicking back to you, betraying him. You smirked, reveling in the fact that, for once, you were the one throwing him off balance.

“You’ve been staring for a while, Mingi.” You popped a fry into your mouth, tilting your head with feigned innocence. “Something on my face?”

For a moment his body twitch in a way of responding a snarky remark yet he straightened immediately, his entire demeanor shifting. Gone was the nervous boy from earlier—now, he leaned back in his chair, drumming his fingers lazily against the table as he met your gaze with a newfound confidence.

“No,” he said casually, then let his lips curl into a slow smirk. “Just wondering how someone so annoying can still be kinda cute.”

You froze mid-chew.

Wait.

Hold on.

Did he just—?

Your brain stalled. Mingi’s smirk widened at your silence, his eyes twinkling with amusement. He leaned forward, resting his chin on his palm, the teasing lilt in his voice unmistakable.

“What? Cat got your tongue?”

For the first time since this game started, you were the one caught off guard. A traitorous heat crept up your neck, and your heart did an embarrassing flip before you could shut it down. You scrambled for a comeback, but all that came out was a choked, “Hah?”

Mingi chuckled, his voice rich with amusement as he studied your expression. Slowly, he took a sip of his drink, dragging out the moment, savoring his small victory. Then, with a smirk sharper than ever, he murmured, “Flustered?” He tilted his head slightly, watching you with an intensity that sent another unwelcome flutter through your chest. “That’s cute.”

Your eyes widened. He did not just—

“You—you stole my line!” you accused, jabbing a finger at him as if that would somehow erase the smug look on his face.

Mingi only chuckled, completely unfazed. “Gotta keep up, favorite co-intern.”

And just like that, the tables had turned.

[judysxnd]

hii can i have a request?

could you do a pedro x reader? bascially they are married, and one evening when the reader was washing the dishes, her engagement ring slipped off her finger and went down the drain (maybe from all the soap?) basically she gets all worked up and sad about it and pedro hears her and comforts her telling her its okay... you can decide how the ending is !!

thanks love! 🩷🩷🩷

hello hello, sorry for writing this so late! As I said previously, I work a lot and my crush changed so I don't follow closely Pedro anymore. I still have another request to write and then I'll be officially done with my requests! I mean I think so, idk why but Tumblr shows only two messages but says I actually five of them? Idk it's weird.

Anyway, there ya go!

It turned out better than I expected so I published it right away!!!

———————————————————————

You were peacefully enjoying dinner with Pedro in your house discussing any topics that would show up. You had some music playing in the background filling the silence while you were both eating. Those nights were your favorite. It was just you and him, nothing else, chilling, spending some quality time away from everything.

Now you were both done eating, you decided to put away the dishes while Pedro would clean the table and put the rest of the food and drinks away.

"remind me why we don't fix the dishwasher?" you sighed as you remembered that you had to clean everything yourself.

"because we're barely home and it's useless to spend money on that?" he said as he closed the fridge, looking at you. "I can do the dishes if you want" he suggested

"No it's my turn, you've been doing them all week"

"I don't mind" he said leaning on the counter

"I do" he smiled, moved closer to leave a sweet kiss on your cheek

"I'll dry them then"

So you started to clean the dishes. Before Pedro had to start drying them, he put the music a bit louder so that you could sing and/or dance. He always makes everything more fun. You've been married for three years and there's never a dull moment with him, even during moments like these, doing something as simple and little as the dishes.

You were rinsing a plate, singing and dancing a bit with Pedro when you heard something falling. It sounded like it was something small but metallic. You both looked around, not knowing where it came from. It's only when you heard the same noise but closer and deeper that you realised it was in the sink.

"What was that?" Pedro asked, looking in the sink.

"I have no idea but it's gone now" you joked, giving a plate to Pedro.

Around fifteen minutes later, you were all done. You grabbed another hand towel since Pedro was using the main one and started to dry your hands. When you moved around your fingers, something felt weird. As you removed the towel, you saw that your ring was no longer there. And it hit you. The noise you heard earlier that coincidently happened in the sink. It was your ring. You gasped, making Pedro suddenly turn.

"What?" he said, looking at you confused as he was drying a pan.

"my ring" you had wide eyes, touching where your ring used to be, looking at Pedro "I think that's what we heard earlier" you said now looking at the sink. Pedro looked around, realising what you had just said.

"It's oka-" you cut him off

"shit shit shit" you said going over the sink, trying to see if you could see it through the hole, like a delusional person.

"y/n it's okay we'll find it, or I'll buy you another one"

"no, no it's not okay" you turned towards him "it's- the ring you proposed with" you had tears forming in your eyes

"don't cry for that cariño" he said putting both his hands on your face "It's just a ring, it doesn't make the souvenir go away"

"I know, but still. It's so beautiful, it means so much"

"Maybe I'll offer you another one that means even more" he looked at you, reassuring you. And it worked, you smiled. "It also means I can propose another time, so double bonus" you laughed

"You think it's gone forever?"

"Maybe we can find it under the sink"

"Can we look right now? I feel terrible"

"we can, don't worry corazón" Pedro kneeled to open the cupboard and look for the ring. He unscrewed the pipe to see if it was there, but it wasn't.

"So?"

"It's not here baby"

"So it's gone gone" Pedro stood up once he put everything back the way it was

"I'll find another one. More beautiful"

"It won't be the same"

"I know" he hugged you "it will be better"

After three weeks, Pedro and you were in LA for some appointments you both had. You decided to join at the beach to have a nice picnic and watch the sunset. As it is predictable, it was the perfect moment where Pedro surprised you with another proposal. You were watching the sea, and Pedro got on one knee next to you.

"Pedro!" you gasped "no you didn't" you said as he opened the box, showing a big beautiful diamond ring, even more beautiful than the one you had

"I told you I would do it again. There's nowhere I'd rather be. Everywhere is home with you. We don't need anything to prove it, but I promised to cherish you, and seeing how loosing the ring made you feel, I got you another one." he said, not looking away once

"And you proposed another time" you said, tears in your eyes

"double bonus" you laughed "you still have to say yes though" he added

"are you sure? I don't know" you pretended to hesitate, both laughing. You stopped, looking at him more seriously. "I love you so much Pedro. You're the man of my life, making this crazy world the best place. You're my home. Of course I'm saying yes another time" you laughed. You gave him your hand another time so that he could put, once again, a ring on your finger.

You immediately kissed him after that. Simple moments. A sunset at the beach, washing dishes, whenever, wherever.

[impval]

nervous

Victoria Neuman x fem! reader warnings: mentions of stalking, mentions of blood, illness (cold), stupid jokes, reader (and Vicky) is useless sapphics.

Victoria doesn’t like how nervous she feels around you.

Logically, it makes no sense for her to feel this way, for her heart to flutter whenever she catches your smile. You're just a ordinary woman who she met through a mutual friend - nothing more, nothing less. Maybe it's the fact that you're different from everyone else in her life, all the political snakes and heroes she deals with on a daily basis.

She's always had a soft spot for people like you, those who are slightly weird, but also smart. When you talk, your words flow like a river, and your eyes light up with an intense enthusiasm that is so endearing.

When you first met, Victoria was expecting the usual reaction from you, the typical swooning at her status, her money, her beauty. But no, you remained completely unfazed by it all. You just spent hours talking about Sylvanas Windrunnner of all topics, passionately discussing the portrayal of women in media. And it wasn't even a deliberate attempt on your part. To you, she was just a woman who had opinions on a game. A woman you could nerd-out with.

Her daughter approval was a significant factor. You didn't try to impress her, didn't talk down to her or make false promises. It wasn't some strategic move to win points with Victoria. You weren't trying to impress or manipulate anyone. You just treated Zoe like any other person - sincerely.

Zoe appreciated that. She was used to the fake smiles and the veiled attempts to get close to her mother through her. She is a smart kid, sharp and more mature than many kids her age. She is also cautious and wary of adults, a effect of her mother's fame and her own intelligence. But she seemed to... tolerate you.

Those casual meetings in a café, the occasional lunch visits, the funny memes shared back and forth. The way you looked at Zoe's homework with a mix of horror and awe, knowing that she was already taking advanced classes and soaking up knowledge far beyond her years.

The way the corners of your mouth would twitch up into a smile or down into a pout as you spoke passionately about something that fascinated you. Victoria could feel her heart skip a beat every time, but she convinced herself it was just the alcohol, just exhaustion, just something that was causing the flutter in her chest.

She found comfort in this little bubble of normalcy, in the charade where she wasn't the politician, the Head-Popper or Nadia. Just Victoria and you, no other bullshit attached.

And then Hughie Campbell ruined everything.

Victoria knew he had been your friend, after all, it was thanks to him that you and her had even met. She believed that he had left your life behind when he started running with The Boys. That your friendship would have faded into the past, like a distant memory.

Oh, she knew that Hughie and the Boys had finally figured out her true identity. It was only a matter of time, really, but she hadn't expected it to be this way.

But the silence from you... that, she hadn't expected. At first, Victoria didn't notice, as she was preoccupied with Homelander's bullshit and the pressures of politics.

Victoria couldn't help but know details about you, your routine, where you lived, who are your colleagues, your family, your friends. She told herself it was just a product of her paranoia, that she needed to make sure you were safe and unharmed, but deep down she knew it was more than just that.

It might have bordered on a bit too much knowledge for a regular friend to have, but Victoria couldn't help but want to keep tabs.

It was far from a coincidence that you suddenly fell ill just a couple of days after Hughie stumbled upon the truth about Victoria's secret. Your colleagues and boss mentioned that you were unwell, that you had taken work home. But Victoria knew better. You rarely got sick, and if you ever did, you never failed to keep in touch. Yet, since then, you had barely sent a text or even responded.

Anxiety, horror, nerves, fear - coursed through her veins like a toxic poison. You'd been quiet for days, she knew why - she understood why. That just didn’t make it hurt any less.

The secrets, the past, all the blood on her hands. It was laid bare, exposed for you to see in all its bloody and monstrous glory. Was this the end? Did you despise her now?

Maybe you were even packing your bags at that very moment, ready to flee from Victoria's presence, putting as much distance between yourself and her as possible.

Knock-knock.

Victoria tried to act as if she didn't notice the way your eyes widened in surprise, she tried to act as if her heart wasn't trying to escape her chest and her breath wasn't being caught in her throat. She tried to act as if she didn't realize how nervous she felt either.

For a moment, she just stood there, watching you, before she remembered herself and smiled slightly “Can I come in?”

You look genuinely unwell - pale skin, parched lips. You hadn't even cared to dry your hair properly after a shower, and your T-shirt still had remnants of dampness from the water. Oddly enough, you don't seem afraid. No fear etched into the lines of your face.

You just...smile. Softly, awkwardly, a pale shadow of your usual cheerful self.

"Sure. Come in."

Victoria had been there many times before - in better circumstances, of course.

Your apartment was always messy and chaotic like that, it was your way of being. There was a certain level of warmth and comfort in the chaos.

She looked around, taking in the current mess before turning to look at you again. Her smile faltered as she took in your pale skin. You looked like you hadn't slept for days, and judging by the pizza box, you clearly hadn't eaten properly either.

Usually, you would offer a warm cup of tea when Victoria visited, but today, you seem too exhausted, both physically and mentally. Instead, you let yourself collapse onto the couch.

She follows you to the living room and sits down in the armchair, facing you in the couch. She crosses her legs, pretending she's totally calm and relaxed, but she's not, she's dying to know what's going through your head. She wonders if you suspect anything, if Hughie told you anything.

"No offense, but you look like crap," she tried to make the comment sound casual and sarcastic, like usual, but it came out more concerned and worried than anything else, and she hated it. She didn't want to show how concerned she was.

What if you hate her? The thought makes her heart ache, but she tries to keep her face neutral. Victoria hates being like this. She always knows what to say, what to do, how to behave. She always knows how to be in control.

But now she feels so damn lost.

"You are as charming as always, Vicky," you laugh lightly, a small, quiet sound that fills the room.

Victoria's heart skips a beat at that little sound you make. It was such a familiar laugh, it was your laugh. She could be in a crowded room and still pick out your laugh in a heartbeat.

She inhales deeply, and there it is again - your familiar scent, now tinged with the unmistakable aroma of medicine. You smell of the shampoo she gave you, the same one she bought specifically because she saw you eyeing it in a store once.

As she looked around the living room, Victoria could see bits and pieces of her everywhere. A cup from the mug she got you two Christmases ago, the blanket from last year's birthday.

The memory hits her - the way you held that Sylvanas Windrunner figurine, the pure delight on your face, how you had thanked her over and over again. The ugly, disgustingly pink slippers she gave you as a joke. Each gift holds its own memory - laughter, gratitude... love.

Those pink damn slippers were stupid. They should have been the first thing you threw away after finding out the truth about her.

"But I'm fine. The cold is almost gone, I feel much better than I look."

"Bullshit," Victoria says immediately, a little sharp.

Her heart is almost beating out of her chest. She's dying to ask you if you know. If you've found out the truth. She even opens her mouth, almost asking, but closes it at the last moment.

"Why did you ignore my texts?" She asks instead, trying to keep her voice steady.

A beat of silence passes between two of you, and in that moment, everything becomes so clear.

Silence is not your thing; you thrive on noise, on conversations, on laughter and music. Your words always flow freely, unfiltered, and yet right now, you're silent, thinking, contemplating how to frame the next words.

You know who she really is. She's exposed, vulnerable, naked before you. What are you going to say? Are you afraid of her now? She's the Head Popper, after all. Or maybe you feel betrayed? Deceived?

Victoria clenched her jaw, hating how her mind started to consider the option of eliminating you. This was the way she had been trained, conditioned to think by Stan. She can almost hear his voice in her head, as clear as if he were sitting next to her. Your safety is priority. Eliminate every source of danger. Never leave a risk.

"Well, I was very unwell the entire time. I suppose work got to me. Fucking reports," you rubbed your temples, even now cursing at the endless paperwork. "And then Hughie with his british boyfriend unloaded a bomb on me."

Yep, you said this.

Honestly, you were freaking out at this plot twist. You love Victoria, both as a person and as a friend (and maybe a little more, but you try to ignore that part). When Hughie told you his story, it sounded so unreal.

But then he brought proof - a folder bursting with photos and even videos on disks, like some kind of old-school spy movie. Who even uses disks anymore?

You spent every waking hour staring at the blood-stained pictures and text in the folder, the horrific details of what her past and present. Your tea intake had reached a record-breaking level, and if your illness hadn't been holding you back, you probably would have drowned yourself in alcohol.

Conflict warred within you. Anger for the things Victoria had done and for the fact that she’d kept it hidden. Confusion over how to feel about all of it. But most importantly, the pain of being deceived by someone you held so close. You trusted Victoria, saw her as the most important person in your life.

But at the same time - how would she have even told me?

The enormity of her secret, the danger it posed, it was a crushing burden. You knew deep down she couldn’t have told you. She probably didn’t know how to.

You vividly remembered the day of the court, how your heart was in your throat as you watched the live broadcast at home. You recall the day clear enough. Wanting to be there to support her...only for her to gently persuade you to stay home. You gave in, thanks to a simple kiss on the cheek that had your brain short-circuiting.

During the broadcast, you found yourself praying to any and every deity, even though faith had never been a part of your life. You prayed for her survival, to see her again.

You thought that Victoria slept so much after the court because of PTSD, but fuck, she likely needed all that sleep to recover from the effort of exploding a whole shitload of heads.

A cruel, bitter joke indeed.

The memory replays in your mind, and suddenly you remember something - something that was so insignificant at the time, but now takes on a whole new level of significance.

You recall the time you was at her office, and you noticed a smudge of blood on her clothes. You remember the unease, the concern, how she’d made you think it was just a small, unimportant thing. And at the time, it had been easy to let it go, to trust her. But now?

And how carefully, casually, Victoria probed you about your thoughts on super-powered humans. Unlike others, you don’t idolize them as infallible heroes or hate them as dangerous threats. After all, they were all just people. It was only after that conversation, it seemed, that she opened up more, allowed you glimpses behind her masks.

As you look at Victoria, it's like seeing her for the first time. All the little quirks, her tells, everything about the person you've come to know so well...unmasked.

She's wearing the dark red suit (blood, your mind whispers), the one she usually chooses for tough debates. Another armor. A defense.

But you know her much better now, past her careful masks and smiles. You recognize the tension in her jaw, the dark flicker in her eyes. She's preparing for the worst.

"What bomb?" She asked despite knowing the answer.

The small smile you offer is careful. You raise your eyebrows and gesture towards the pile of papers on the table by the sofa, the folder among them, buried in notes and drawings.

"I think Victoria fits you better," you remark, voice soft. "But you know, Nadia sounds beautiful too."

Hearing you speak her real name sends a shiver down her spine. No one had called her that in years, and from your lips, it sounded too intimate, too personal.

It's all there, the documents, the evidence, the photos. Things that should never have seen by anyone, much less by you.

"I prefer Vicky," she says carefully, but when she looks at you, she doesn't see fear or anger. You just seem tired. “You've read all that?”

Death, blood, shattered lives - you used to think red suited her, but you hadn't comprehended just how much.

"Of course. When have I ever left anything unfinished?" you murmurs, with just a hint of irony in the voice.

She doesn't know if she should be amused or offended by your comment.

On one hand, it's a normal reaction from you, sarcastic and cheeky. The same person she got to know during all those days and nights spent together in each other's company. On the other hand, you're talking about her greatest secret like you're talking about a crime book.

"And?" She asked quietly, hating how nervous she feels.

She's acting almost as awkward as that time she got soo drunk and you stayed up all night holding a bucket next to her, so she didn't puke all over the carpet. Now that you think about it, she's downed a lot more alcohol than a human ever could. The memory bubbles up, almost making you want to laugh.

You reach up to rub at your throat, grimacing slightly at the lingering soreness. Your cough hasn't quite gone away yet, and you pick up a bottle of water from the table, taking a few gulps to soothe the ache.

You place the bottle back down next to you and your tone is calm and measured as you speak.

"I've got exactly two questions," you state, eyes fixed on her.

Her fingers dig into the fabric of her pants, knuckles turning white. How can you be so calm, so matter-of-fact? She wants to snap, yell, scream at you, for how can you look normal after everything?

"Ask."

Another fact about you that's worth mentioning: you're a fucking clown. If Victoria ever dragged you to any important event, you would have been easily mistaken for a court jester or shot down as a threat to the sanity of every politician there. It's how you cope with the cruel world of capitalism and heroes, after all - if you can't laugh, you'd probably cry.

"So you felt it every time I had a period?"

What the fu-

She can practically feel a vein in her temple ticking in annoyance. You know her secret and this is what you're asking her?

Typical you, to focus on something as unimportant as this.

"What do you think?" she replied bluntly, her shoulders relax.

Somehow, the tension in the air has lessened. The conversation has fallen into more familiar territory, much like a well-practiced dance. You and Victoria have often discussed the powers of various supers, real or fictional, and now is no different.

Blood manipulation. You can't help but admit that exploding heads is a impressive move, yet horrifying all the same. It was a dramatic and effective ability, perfectly fitting for Victoria, the woman who always loved a good show.

The file had mentioned that she used to struggle with controlling it, but clearly, she'd mastered it now. It fit her personality perfectly: she always needed to be in control, no matter what.

"I think you can feel everything around you," you say, your voice quiet but sure. "You can hear the beating of hearts, can't you? That's why you always know when someone is lying. But for details, you need to concentrate."

You had always been good at puzzles, connecting the dots, thinking. That's why she love you.

You're surprisingly spot on in your assumptions. Victoria can feel blood, she's always felt it, even if she hasn't always been able to control it. She felt your periods. She's felt your heart rate changing in times of excitement or fear.

But what surprises her is not the fact that you've figured that out, but the fact that you aren't afraid of her even knowing all of this.

"Sometimes I try not to pay attention to much," she confessed, her voice almost a whisper, like she's sharing a secret. "It's... overwhelming."

Oh, Vicky.

Your eyes soften, a gentle understanding. All this time, this power of hers, and you hadn't noticed. Or maybe she just never let you see this side of her, this hidden weakness. Something inside you aches.

Victoria used to think you were simple, naive. You wore your heart on your sleeve, you trusted everyone too easily. She didn't see it, didn't realize that deep down, beneath that all, there was a sharp mind, capable of seeing through all her bullshit facade. Now she sees it especially clearly.

"Second question." She demands, her voice almost a whisper.

Vicky, Vicky, Vicky.

You should be afraid. After everything, the lies, the manipulation, the hidden life...you should fear her.

But you can't.

She's woven into the fabric of your life, tangled up in a web of memories, gifts, and shared moments. She's the one who showers you with gifts just because she thought of you, the one who patiently listens to your theories and debates.

Vicky, Vicky, always Vicky.

Your lip quirks slightly, a soft smile touching the corners of your mouth. You feel like you see her better now, more than ever before.

And so, your second and final question rolls off your tongue, quiet and calm. "Will you kill me?"

Victoria's heart practically stops at your question.

She was prepared for anger, sadness, disappointment. But this? Not in a million years.

"You..." Her voice is choked, a thousand thoughts swirling in her head. She looks at you, searching for something, anything in your eyes, that you're not serious.

But, ironically, this is possibly the most serious you've ever been.

"Well?" you continue. "Don't deny it. We both know you're paranoid and I know too much now. It would be logical for you. So answer the question. Will you kill me?"

Logical is exactly the kind of word that Stan had used to describe Victoria. It's who she is. So yes. This is exactly what she would have done a long time ago. Of course you think she would kill you. She should. You know too much.

But you're you, with your soft smiles and endless patience, stupid curiosity and unwavering loyalty. Despite everything, she loves you.

How can she kill the one person she loves?

Finally, in a low, strangled tone she answers.

"No, I won't kill you."

Wow, you must be utterly and hopelessly in love with her, considering how willing you are to accept death at her hands. A sick, twisted kind of humor bubbles up in your mind as you muse to yourself that it's nice that Victoria won't be exploding your head anytime soon.

Your shoulders sag a little. Okay.

Your entire body aches and throbs from the sickness that's kept you in your apartment for the past week.

And the fucking folder has only made the simple cold worse. Right now, all you want to do is disappear under the covers, crawl into the warm darkness, and shut out the world.

You gesture to the papers on the table, your voice tired but steady. "I need some time," you say, a hint of hurt underlying your words. "Will you take the folder with you when you leave? I don't want it here."

Victoria drops her gaze, averting it to look at the table, the stack of papers, the folder that started this whole mess. She feels an irrational urge to throw it all out, to burn it, and she will. Later.

Part of her is too wary to say something she'll regret, and the other... she's just too cowardly. Victoria nods slowly, standing up to grab the folder.

So all she does is watch you a moment longer, the folder clenched tightly in her hands, before walking out the door.

Time drags out slowly. Never before has a month felt so long and painful. Even during your worst fights, both of you would still text each other, however small the dialogue might be.

But now, you don't call. You don't text. You don't even send her memes filled with passive aggressive hints of your anger.

Every time her phone vibrates, her heart skips a beat in foolish hope. She almost feels like a teenager with a crush, looking at the screen eagerly, only to be disappointed every single time.

You had asked for time, and Victoria knows she should honor that.

However, you've been kept under close watch. She's not worried that you'll reveal her secret, no - that option was clearly not even in the cards. The surveillance now, the protective measures, it's not to keep an eye on you. It's for your safety. To make sure you're okay and not in any possible danger. You were right when you called her paranoid.

Her daughter starts to notice. Even she's beginning to look at Victoria differently. It's no secret that you usually spend plenty of time visiting, but it's been a whole damn month since you've vanished.

Zoe isn't your biggest fan, but she can see how much it hurts Victoria not to have you around.

"Mom, did you screw something up?"

"Language."

Victoria practically jumps when she receives a text message, inviting her to meet in a local cafe. Nothing more, nothing less. Just a simple request for cocoa and conversation.

That day, you both chat about nothing and everything, carefully avoiding the painful subject that weighs heavily on both of you. It's not much, but it's a start. A fragile first step.

When she sees the vampire memes you've sent, a wave of relief washes over her face. Victoria breaks out into loud, relieved laughter, startling her colleagues with the unexpected outburst.

She almost feels like she's back in your apartment again, sprawled on the couch, arguing about which anime to watch, or which one of the characters you're obsessed with is the most attractive.

You're insufferable, just as Victoria had expected from you. You torture her with a nonstop fload of puns, innuendoes, jokes, and memes all related to blood. Even Zoe joins, to Victoria's combined amusement and horror.

Victoria endures through Zoe's torturous plan to force her to watch the Twilight, making it her own personal mission to survive the whole series without jumping out of the nearest window.

You'll find out that Victoria has genuinely been trying to ignore the rhythm of your heartbeat since your friendship became genuine. But, before that, yeah, she used to monitor your heartbeat all the damn time.

When she casually mentioned it, you damn near choked on your tea. How in the world could Victoria, the most intelligent woman you knew, not recognize that you were madly in love with her all this time, even with super-duper powers?

After clearing your throat (with a bit of help from Victoria's powers), you laughed until your ribs hurt. Then you granted her permission to listen to your heartbeat whenever she wanted.

One day, while enjoying a casual lunch together, she asks you why you haven't run away to some sunny spot in Spain. After all, she has killed people, and it's not something that's likely to change. You rolled your eyes so hard it genuinely hurt. Seriously, your favorite characters are female war criminals for whom committing murder is just as natural as blinking.

Jokes on you, Vicky, I'm into that shit.

Of course you didn't say that. You're not ready to come out (ha!) of the illusion of friends yet.

You didn't have a damn clue how messed up the world truly is. Of course, you knew it was a cruel, cruel place, you're not naive. But, fuck, it's worse than you could have ever imagined.

And Victoria, she knows this better than anyone. She can now share her own personal horror story, revealing the truth about Vought, her father, the sadistic experiments, and her genuine desire to change the world for the better.

Things are strangely different now, better now that there are no more secrets. She finds herself hyper-aware of your heartbeat, your eyes on her, the way you move, the sound of your voice. It's like she's suddenly woken up to a new reality, where the line between friends and something more is slowly starting to blur.

And just when things were finally beginning to settle back into a shaky sense of normalcy, that fucking Hughie had to show up again.

hey, herm o. globin

you know who and his british boyfriend were at my house again

im fine btw

Victoria doesn't even bat an eye at the stupid pun, her mind immediately focusing in on the second part.

Hughie and Butcher was in your house again. Again. And somehow, her security had missed their presence. She clenches her jaw at the thought. How incompetent can they be? Stupid amateurs.

But she'll deal with them later. Victoria rearranges her schedule, sends a text ordering you to stay home, and quickly hops into her car, driving over to your place.

Victoria arrives at your apartment in record time. She can feel the tension coiling inside her, the need to make sure you're safe, to see you with her own eyes. Without even a knock, she pushes the door open and steps inside.

You're predictably sitting in the kitchen, calmly sipping away at a cup of tea. There's not a single bruise or scratch on you, no sign of fear or distress etched on your face. It's as if you didn't have two wanted terrorists in your damn house.

You glance up at the clock on the wall, "Wow, ten minutes. You won't get any fines?"

Victoria is not amused. Your humor would have usually been endearing, but right now it's just fueling her anger. She steps closer, her voice strained from the effort to keep her temper in check.

"You had Hughie and Butcher in your house, and you didn't think to call me?"

You set down your cup on the table with a weary sigh. Of course, you weren't particularly thrilled about the surprise visit, but there was no point in stressing about it now that they were gone.

"I was too busy trying to decipher british accent." Yikes, more jokes. "They were just trying to figure out why I was still hanging out with you. You know, after I discovered your secret."

Victoria's hands curl into fists, her patience with your humor wearing thinner and thinner with each passing second. Victoria doesn't even understand why her anger is slipping out of control. Perhaps it's because you were in danger. Or maybe it's because she's still at risk of losing you.

"And what exactly did you tell them?"

You can't help but flinch ever so slightly at the question. Damn it, you suck at hiding your expressions, even when you really want to. Victoria's eyes flick down to the slight flinch that you tried to hide, her shoulders tensing at the sight.

Oh, Hughie, always trying to be gentle. He attempted to appeal to your sense of morality, your humanity. It's unfortunate that he doesn't grasp how deeply, how foolishly in love you are with Victoria.

It's a shame, really, since he's known you practically since school days, he of all people should have understood. When it came to the people you cared about, your moral principles usually went on vacation.

But, like what fuck, Butcher understood.

There's something about him, something rotten and dark, that sets off alarms in your head. This man is dangerous, like a ticking time bomb waiting to burst. And when he explodes - because sooner or later, he will - he'll take a hell of a lot of people down with him. 

Amor caecus. That's all he said and led Hughie out.

You swallow, forcing down the memory and pushing it to the back of your mind. Are you really that blind?

"I told them to go suck Homelander's dick," you manage to say, and even to your own ears, your words sound pathetically weak.

Victoria almost lets out a bitter laugh at your response. Trust you and your blunt, unapologetic attitude. But the way your voice falters when you speak, tells her everything she needs to know. There's something you're not telling her, something that clearly shook you.

"Is that all?" She asks, her tone firm. "Or is there something else they said that's got you rattled?"

Fuck.

It's a harsh reminder of the tension between you when you discovered the truth about her and how uncomfortable things had become.

You stand up abruptly, the chair scraping against the floor with a sickening screech. Nope, you're not ready to confess your love to your friend right now.

That instinct to flee, to hide, an almost primal urge to run away...it influences your choices. How many times could you have confessed your feelings to Victoria? You're not stupid. And she's not stupid either. What's between you is not friendship, not really.

You're just afraid.

You try to walk past her, insisting, "That's all, Victoria. I didn't tell them anything else."

Victoria despises the way your blood sings with anxiety, fear, and fatigue that has seeped into your very bones. Victoria reaches out on instinct, preventing you from walking any farther, her grip tight around your wrist. She's not letting you run away, not this time.

There were so many words on the tip of her tongue, so many things she wanted to say. Like ‘Do you know what you’re doing to me?’ or ‘I think I love you.'

"Stop," she commands, her voice betraying a hint of desperation. "I know you're hiding something, dammit. I can feel it. Please, just tell me."

It's ironic, really, for her to expect such openness and trust from you when she kept an entire box of sketches from you for so long. But when she turns those big, sad eyes on you, silently pleading for trust... love truly is blind, isn't it?

You're weary and exhausted. You want it all to go back to the days when you were still oblivious, when she was simply Vicky, your ambitious friend who could down a shot of tequila without a second thought and feel fantastic.

Life was simpler then, and it was easier to suppress your longing, to resist the urge to touch her in ways that friends shouldn't.

You're just so damn tired. Maybe it's time to stop being a cliché, a useless sapphic who fell in love with her not-so-straight friend.

"Just promise you won't blow my damn head off?"

Please, just promise me that everything will be alright. That nothing will change between us.

You don't give her a chance to respond, quickly pulling her close and crashing your lips against hers.

Victoria freezes for a moment, her mind struggling to catch up with what's happening.

Oh.

Oh.

Friends my ass.

But then her body responds, her arms wrapping around you before she even realizes it. She's kissing you back, her lips moving urgently against yours, years of pent-up yearning and love, fear and desire, finally finding a way out.

When you break away, both of you gasping for breath, Victoria meets your eyes.

You're fully aware of the path you're heading down. Love may be blind, but you're perfectly aware of her paranoid nature, the blood staining her hands up to her elbows. She's a monster, there's no denying it, and you just offered yourself up to her on a goddamn silver platter.

There's no turning back now, but even if there was, you wouldn't change a damn thing.

[paragonrobits]

i was just thinking about how in later Discworld books, even as its an unspoken understanding among everyone in Ankh-Morpork that Carrot is the King of the city and he's probably the last descendant of the original ruling line, not only does Carrot avoid pushing the narrative to exploit it unless absolutely necessary, but it never de-emphasizes the fact that he's a dwarf by adoption

Even in later books Carrot is still regularly writing letters to his family in their mine; he thinks of himself as a dwarf, he is CONSIDERED to be a dwarf by all except the most hardliners of dwarf society (and even they can't outright deny him dwarf status, the best they can do is say he is an anomaly); he might USE his narrative status as the One True King, but in his heart, to himself, he is still the child of the Ironfounderssons.

His human heritage is functionally irrelevant to him unless he needs to make use of it, much like his ancestral sword. And it occured to me, what if he actively chose to distance himself from his human heritage because he learned about them in later books and found nothing worth acknowledging?

Carrot is in a weird place because he is the One True King, a narrative status that makes him the good and wise king who knows only truth and justice and comes bringing goodness to all, and this is quite a contrast to the ACTUAL kings of Ankh-Morpork, who were universally at BEST a bunch of horribly useless and inept absolute rulers that are living embodiments of 'the aristocracy are dumber than a sack of doorknobs' the series leans into, and at worst are implcitly some of the most horribly sadistic and cruel people in the setting.

One particular example is Lorenzo the Kind, the last king of Ankh-Morpork, whose name was deliberately ironic; he was so horrifically sadistic that he spelled the end of the kingship because he's the one who was killed by Suffer-Not-Injustice Vimes, who because no one was willing to judge him because kings were considered Special, just dragged him off his throne, cut off his head, and the surviving family members were exiled from the city.

Lorenzo is the last member of Carrot's biological ancestry we have definitive information on, off the top of my head, and he paints a dark, horrific image. He's painted as the absolute nadir of horror from the ruling classes, and is heavily implied to have been a sadistic pedophile with a penchant for torture (at the very least Carrot and Vimes both note that he was apparently fond of children and was painted with a lot of them nearby at all times, discussing it in a way that suggests a DEEPLY uncomfortable topic neither of them wants them to address, and later in Feet Of Clay Vimes points out that Lorenzo had unspecified but horrific machines in the basement).

Carrot is very strongly implied to, at least starting from Men At Arms (in which he discovers he is the king), have investigated his ancestry, and he's able to elaborate on their actions and history, and this also marks the point where he carefully but firmly emphasizes his dwarf heritage for the rest of the series.

He found out who his ancestors were, and discovered they were horrifically evil people, and that Mister Vimes was fully justified in being proud of his ancestor putting them down like rabid beasts, and it leads to him firmly emphasizing that his family are the Ironfoundersson dwarfs.

[celuere]

How are you Alba? I hope your routine hasn't been too tiring recently and that you're doing well and having time to rest, you deserve it!!

Taking a break from the freak requests, (which I hope you had received, because if you didn't it's going to make this paragraph start weird👎👎👎) I came here to earnestly ask for a fluff and wholesome fic about Arlecchino and reader putting together a nusery for their child... I know it's a bit '????' but listen:

Creating a newborn's nusery is very complicated, it is the place where parents will spend most of their time in the first few months after the baby is born, not to mention that the decoration will probably remain the same for a good three years, only changing the toys that will be scattered on the floor. Between trying to guess a possible taste that your child might have and combining a normally super childish aesthetic with the rest of the house, as well as predict what would be a good investment in the future or not, from the best cribs to toys, not even mentioning the discussions that arise between expecting parents due to the different views that each one has to the room, It's a challenge.

Although I believe that Arlecchino would have a good knowledge about it, after all she is a director of an orphanage, she certainly knows what is useless to put in and what is indispensable. Even if any doubt arises about what itens to brought, she would research madly for an answer or even ask for help from the children in the House of Hearth for a more concrete opinion. If I were to guess, both Reader and Arlecchino would quickly come to a consensus on the theme and decorations (Peruere is completely in love, she would only let her wife choose everything, including a little stuffed bunny that strangely looks like her...), while the heavier work of assembling furniture and painting walls are left to a more specialized workforce or to the Knave itself when she wants to show herself to her beloved wife.

As I don't want to take away too much of your creative freedom, I'll end the request here. Feel free to modify any of the ideas. The choice is entirely yours, after all, I don't want that this request become boring for you.

(Just gonna add if here: they have a cat, because for sure Arle's a cat person; spiders and cats look alike)

Thank you in advance for reading this message, you are a sweetheart Alba,

With care, 🍰 anon.

i swear ANYTHING related to papacchino gives me heavy babyfever i can't do this anymore💔 i hope i caught the right vibe, i‘m really tired writing this so i‘m sorry for any grammar mistakes or misplaced words😞

divider by @/anitalenia

„wouldn't a purple theme be more prettier?"

„....purple? my love, you insisted on an orange theme two weeks ago."

scratching your cheek with your index finger, you recalled the memory of you a bunch of days ago where you stood before the nursery, color palettes in hand.

„my... i almost forgot about that... can we still change it?”

it was moments like these where arlecchino grew a bit older. but with a short glance down to your hand resting on top of your baby belly, wedding ring glistening in the candlelight, where she quickly shook those thoughts off.

„i'll see what i can do since the painters are already scheduled for tomorrow morning...", but whatever her wife wishes, she shall receive.

choosing a color theme for your babies bedroom turned out to be the easier task.

„where should we put the crib...? or the changing table? we also need a little corner for her to play in- and a nursing chair too and-”

„ma amour, ne nous précipitons pas. nous avons encore beaucoup de temps avant qu'elle soit là."

„my love, let's not rush. we still have plenty of time until she is here.", a gentle hand came up to squeeze your shoulder.

deciding on furniture was torture. everything was too adorable to not buy. the both of you wanted her to not miss out on anything but maybe you don't need a dozen plushies for a newborn. if it were not for that one stuffed rabbit that had an uncanny resemblance to a certain someone...

„you are right, i just... i want this to be perfect for her. even if she probably won't remember her nursery, i want her to feel special... wanted...", your eyes were laced with a love that had yet to bloom. you rubbed almost instinctively the downside of your belly. you still had five more months to go but celestia knows how fast these will fly by too.

you were too focused to notice your husband's breath stilling at your words.

special...

wanted...

„yes... special...", the word rung in her ears for longer than expected before she saw it. a clear vision of what the knave may have in mind for the nursery.

„why don't we grab some paints from a nearby workshop during our daily walk later?", you felt her fingertips brushing over your skin as she shoves some loose hair strands behind your ear. she is keeping her usually sharp nails neatly trimmed ever since the news of your pregnancy first came out.

„father... are you sure...? isn't this supposed to be something... unique?"

„that is exactly why i am bestowing you with this task. now go on, let your creativity roam free.”

the knave watched her children exchange almost ecstatic glances before they rushed to the paintbrushes sitting atop a table laid out with old newspapers. with only the most high-quality paints already getting fought over.

it was a beautiful day. the mild sun spending just enough warmth to not start sweating with a gentle breeze ghosting through the trees of the estate.

and arlecchino watched her kids turning the changing table and the crib into a beautiful, joyous canvas.

fingerprints, messy brush strokes and explosions of all kinds of bright color, yet the fatui harbinger never looked more at ease as the laughter of her children filled the estate of the hearth.

you were neatly tucked away in your bedroom, not feeling well enough to leave the comfort of your sheets.

all the more reason for your husband to be looking forward to the results- and your reaction.

a nursery for your baby without the influence of her siblings... unimaginable. not even worth considering.

but the joy was short-lived until they started painting each other. that's when arle started to regret her choices. their pretty clothes.... and yet kids will be kids. she turned a blind eye to their silliness this one time.

arlecchino just hoped the colors would come off of their faces....

[downbadace]

olaaaa ace, I have fic idea, if your not to busy. its based on the song song Slow Down-by Bobby Valentino. its like a meet cute between Megan and Sophia and how it is, is like Megan is walking out of her house in LA to go to the studio to dance and she sees Sophia walking passed and like its a whole slow mo thing going on, and Megan makes it her mission to get her new neighbour's attention. its like nerd!Megan with a cool girl vibe but that all goes away when she sees Sophia. its like cutesy fluff with sum nsfw

also AHHH the story between you and eve is soooo cuteee

-E

⋆. 𐙚 ̊ 𝐈 𝐉𝐔𝐒𝐓 𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐍𝐀 𝐆𝐄𝐓 𝐓𝐎 𝐊𝐍𝐎𝐖 𝐘𝐎𝐔ᝰ.ᐟ

Pairing: Sophia Laforteza/Megan Skiendiel

Every morning, at exactly 7am, Megan walks out her house to get to her dance studio. And every morning she's met with the beautiful sight of her next door neighbor, Sophia Laforteza, who had just moved in exactly 1 months and 3 days ago... not that she was counting or anything...

CONTENT: Fluff, Loser!Megan, AU-College, Not really stalking but Megan is really interested in Sophia 😭, Strong-Language, Megan's a useless lesbian, Mild Smut (at the end), G!P Character

A/N: I love this song stawp I saw this and I knew I HAD to post this like 😍😍 anyways thank you for the recent love it means a lot to me <3 currently writing this before I go to the airport so hopefully I can post it before I take off 😭 (hey future me! i did not post it before we took off) also remember the Meifiz fic I had planning, I combined it the smut part with this one cause i didn't know if i wanted to post it or not so yeah :3 anyways enjoy!!!!

Word Count: 4.1k

Masterlist

"So, how long did you say you've been watching her?" Daniela asks, sipping on her drink.

"I haven't been 'watching her.' I'm not some kinda weird stalker," Megan clarifies to the girl sitting across from her. The two had just finished their dance lessons and were at their colleges local café (It was Seaside Bakery.) The topic they were currently discussing, and have been for the past month, was Megan's new neighbor that, according the Canto girl, had moved in last month and 3 days ago.

"See, the fact that you're counting from the days when she arrived is stalker enough," Megan just rolls her eyes and rests her head on her hand," Okay but I'm not one. I just like to... admire her everytime she goes out to water her plants."

"Uh-huh... and how is it that you coincidentally see her water the plants every single day?" Megan goes silent before mumbling something. Daniela raises her eyebrows," Sorry, Meg, speak up a little I can't hear yo-"

"I found out she does it at 7am every morning, god, is that what you wanted to hear?" Daniela shakes her head before calling Megan a stalker under her breath. The two fal into a comfortable silence with the both of them taking out their phones and scrolling at the same time. Without looking up from her screen, Daniela asks," How did you even meet her? Did you even meet her, it seems like you've never had a real conversation with this girl."

Megan sighs, trying to recount her past interaction(s) with her Filipina Neighbor," Well actually, yes, we have talked. The day she moved in."

✰ ✰ ✰

I remember cause had just gotten back from classes. I was gonna park at my usual spot but a uhaul was in the way so I had to park in the driveway.

Why don't you jusy park in your driveway—

Not the point here, Dani. Anyways, I got out my car and I got curious so I looked over and saw two guys come out of the house, a tall, younger one and an older guy. They were moving furniture inside and one of them asked," Fifi, where do we put this?"

Then, it was like slow-mo. I looked at the direction the guy was facing and this gorgeous girl comes out of the open garage. She had baby blue skirt with a white blouse on, white boots at the end of her long legs with pink bows to compliment them—

The fact that you remember what outfit she was wearing is insane.

Can you let me finish? Anyways, she told the two to put them in the living room and they did as she says. In that moment she looked over at me and I froze cause she gave a really warm smile, those types of smiles to just out you at ease but to terrify you cause no way a smile is that perfect without a sinister meaning behind if. She came up to my side of the lawn and said hey and of course I said hi back. She introduced herself as Sophia Laforteza. She moved in because she had just transferred to UCI for medical training. I told her that I also went to UCI and what I majored in and she said "Oh wow, maybe we'll see each other on campus." And I told her that'd be fun. Before She can say anything else, the younger one from earlier called her inside and she said she had to go but that she hopes that we get to talk again.

✰ ✰ ✰

"That was the last interaction I had with her," Megan says, twiddling her thumbs. Daniela looked at her in confusion," Wait so you've never talked to her since then? Does she even remember you exist?"

"Of course she does, she waves hello to me whenever we make eye contact."

"Yeah, and how many times would you say you've made eye contact with her?" Megan hesitates before saying," Like... Three times?"

Daniela sighs before rubbing the bridge of her nose," You're a lost cause, Megan Skiendiel. How bout you just talk to her? It's not hard, it's easier than reading."

"I'm dyslexic, mind you."

"Exactly, So go talk to her when you get home!" Megan just nods, taking a sip of her drink before going back to doomscrolling on her phone.

"Maybe I should go talk to her..." She thinks.

✰ ✰ ✰

Megan parks at her usual spot outside her house. She gets out and looks over at the house next door and she feels her heart sink at the sight of Sophia on her porch, glasses on reading a medical book. Megan hesitates before calling out," Hey, Sophia!"

The filipina sitting down looks up to the direction she's been called from and smiles brightly when she sees who's calling her," Oh, hi Megan! What's up, how are you?"

Megan walks over to her front door as she speaks," Not much, just got back from dance practice, a little sore y'know so I think I'll take a nap." She stretches her arm a bit, pretending that it was sore so that her cropped shirt can purposely lift up slightly, showing her toned stomach," How bout you?"

Sophia smiles, putting down her book on her chair, coming up to the porches fence to lean against it so she's looking directly at Megan," Not much, just reading for one of my classes. To be honest I'm really bored and uninterested in it, I just wanted to come out here so I look smart, like I'm doing something, y'know?"

Megan smiles and scratches the back of her head," No yeah, I get that so much, I post on my account that I'm studying at a café or something but in reality I'm doomscrolling on my phone half the time."

Sophia giggles before her face lights up," Hey, I should follow you on instagram, so we could talk more!" She says as she takes out her phone. Megan freezes for a second before taking out her own," Oh yeah, that'd be awesome!"

They exchanged usernames and once they both got the notification of new followers, they say their goodbyes and Megan goes back inside the house. The second she closes her door her heartbeat slows and she lets out a breath she didn't know she was holding. "No way I just did that..." she thinks out loud.

✰ ✰ ✰

Since that day it was like something had switched. Talking to Sophia had been way easier than it was before and Megan had an interaction with her every single day since then. Sure, it would only be small talk, things about their days or complaining about college lectures but Megan was desperate for anything. So desperate that she had scrolled through Sophia's entire instagram page and highlights to know what the girl was interested in.

So maybe Megan was a little crazy but it wasn't obsessive, she says it's what most people call "loser behavior." and her friends seemed to share rhetorical same sentiment.

"No, definitely loser behavior, what kind of normal person with a life goes through someone's instagram." Lara says, tossing the beanbag in her hand up and down. Her, Daniela, and Megan were at Manon's house, waiting for the girl to get ready as they were going to a party later that night.

"Okay, you can't be talking though, Rajagopalan, remember in high school when you stalked this girls whole entire digital footprint to find out if she was gay?" Manon had called out from her bathroom. Lara scoffs and throws the beanbag up with more force," Okay, but that wasn't for me, that was for a friend... I just happened to also like her too."

Manon goes "hah!" before going back to doing her makeup. Daniela sighs," Being gay must be sooooo hard. Could never be me though."

Everyone stops and looks at Daniela and her face turns into confusion.

"What? I'm just saying, I didn't have to put this much effort into men," a beat of silence follows Daniela's words before Lara thrusts the beanbag at Dani's head, hitting her smack dab in the forehead.

"Hey, okay what the fuck," She says before throwing it back to Lara. The Tamil girl dodges it before hitting her with the pillow she was laying on, resulting in a pillow fight. As the two went to war, Manon came out of the bathroom and sat at her vanity, taking her lip gloss and lashes and other make up products out.

"While we're on this topic, do you even know if she's gay, Meg?" Megan looks up from her phone and stutters," I-I mean like... She likes Chappell Roan?"

Lara gets up from her fighting position and smacks Daniela one more time before interjecting into the conversation," Okay but many people like Chappell, not to burst your bubble or anything."

"W-well, uhm... She really likes Hailee Steinfeld, especially her as Kate Bishop?"

"Okay but is that because she's every queer girls' awakening or is it because Hailee Steinfeld is filipina?" Megan pressed her lips together in a thin line, thinking of something else that could prove anything about Sophia remotely liking girls.

"Uhm... Oh! She rolls her jeans up!" The three girls look at each other before looking back at Megan.

"Babe, it's not 2018, this could mean anything," Manon says, looking at Megan through ther vanity mirror.

"Yeah, I'm sorry to say it but unless she straight up says 'I like pussy' you should assume she's straight." Lara says, before laying down on Daniela's lap, the Latina girl side-eyeing her before accepting that shs now a pillow for Lara, leaning back on her arms," Yeah, Meg, as the resident straight girl I'm gonna tell you, don't get your hopes up. You never know, she can just be a really closeted bisexual."

"Is the cal coming from inside the house?" Lara jokes before The girl above her hits her with a pillow," Ow, hey, I'm kidding, I love my straight best friend, okay?"

Megan flops backwards on Manon's bed, searching for anything in her mind that can prove that Sophia is at least a little interested in her. But for now, her mind goes blank.

✰ ✰ ✰

"You sure this is the right address?"

"It looks like someone's trying to burn the house down..."

"I don't wanna go in."

"Okay, just because a few furniture is on the roof and lawn doesn't mean it's gonna be a bad party," Lara says as she parks the car in front of the building. It was three stories of pure chaos, people were on the roof playing catch, toilet paper flew everywhere, and somehow a chicken was running around the front lawn.

"If one of us doesn't show up to school tomorrow, we know why," Manon says as everyone gets out the car. The four of them walk across the street and make their way into the house. Immediately people started saying hi, greeting the four known girls. Megan wouldn't say she was popular, if anything her three friends were the popular ones, she was just well known by association. If she had to categorize them then she'd say that Daniela was the most popular campus dealer, automatically getting on everyone's good side, Lara was the biggest campus fuck-boy, or fuck-girl, having girls and guys on their knees just for simple acknowledgment, and Manon? Well everyone liked Manon, she's pretty, smart, and just a generally enjoyable person to be around. Megan was... also there.

"Hey guys! What're you doing here!" The four turned to where the voice called out to them. Then, they saw the sight of Yoonchae, a sophomore at UCI, very popular among her class.

"We could say the same for you, Yoonchip. Why are you at an upperclassman party?" Manon asked. Yoonchae shrugged," I'm here with a new girl, she's in your guys' class. Very nice and invited me with her!"

Before any of them could ask who the girl was, a soft voice from behind the girls called for Yoonchae above all the loud music. Megan heard it, hoped to God it wasn’t who she feared, turned around, and instantly decided she was agnostic.

"Omg, Megan! I didn't realize you'd be here too!" Sophia says before giving her neighbor a hug. Megan turned red, thankful that the lights wouldn't pick up on the tint on her face, and hesitated before hugging her back," Yeah, didn't expect you to be here either!"

They pulled away from each other, Sophia's hands resting on Megan's shoulders. It's corny, but Megan swore that she could get lost in her eyes. As they let their gazes linger, one of the girls from next to them clears their throat and the two look at the group at the same time.

"So... You gonna introduce us, Megatron?" Lara asks. Megan feels a rush and embarrassment flow over her before introducing Sophia," Oh, u-uhm... Guys this is Sophia, my neighbor."

Daniela gives Megan a knowing look before going up to the Filipina," Hello, Sophia, I'm Daniela, call me Dani. It is very nice to meet you, Megan has told us so much about you!"

"Has she, now?" Megan wishes that the ground would swallow her whole at that moment," I mean like... Yeah but, no, I mean what's there to talk about—I mean you are a very intresting person it's just that I... fuck my life..." Megan stutters out, whispering the last part under her breath. Sophia just giggles at Megan's dorky behavior," I get it Meg, I am a very interesting person, and I could say the same about you, Dani, Megan says you're in quite the... buisness?"

Daniela nods," Yup, you need a fix and I gotchu." She punctuates her sentence with a wink. Sophia smiles before looking at the other girls," And you two must be Lara and Manon, heard a lot from you two as well."

Lara, being sly as ever, takes Sophia's hand in hers and kisses the knuckles, making Megan's eye slightly twitch," Mhm, charmed, I'm sure. Despite rumors I am very single and very looking for someone."

The girl giggles at Lara's gesture before pulling away," Thank you, but you're not really my type, I'm into the more 'nerdy' type."

"Oh that's great, because Megan here, our little Mei-Mei, is definitely a ner—" Manon get's cut off by Megan covering her mouth. Manon protests, her voice muffled," Do not listen to them they are actually very high right now and don't know better." Megan says passive aggressively. Sophia just nods her head and smirks," Right, well if Megan is ever... interested, then tell her to meet with me later."

Megan lets the hand covering Manon's mouth falls down from her face. Lara and Daniela give each other a knowing look before Sophia walks away, asking Yoonchae to follow her. With a wide-eyed expression, she follows the girl and the disappear into the crowd.

"So... I think she might be gay—"

"Yeah no shit, Lara." Megan says before finding the nearest alcoholic drink.

✰ ✰ ✰

The party goes on for, what seemed like, forever. Megan's lazily sitting on a counter as a couple next to her is making out. She looks around for any sight of the friends she had lost and spots Daniela stealthily handing someone a small bag, presumably with, what she likes to call, her "special product." Megan rolls her eyes and draws her eyes somewhere else. Then, she spots her. Sophia.

The girl was leaning against the wall, swirling her red cup in hand, as a guy is talking her ear off. Sophia gave polite smiles and nodded to the words he was speaking, but any remotely sober person would take the hint that she was uninterested. She breathed in and out before her eyes began to wander. They just so happened to land on a familiar pair of eyes that were staring her down. She smiles and gives Megan a wink to which Megan stupidly responds with looking around and then looking back at her, pointing at herself.

Sophia laughs and mouths a "yes" and Megan meekly waves his back. Sophia's smile grows wider and she mouths something along the lines of "follow me" before telling the guy some thing and walking off. Megan takes a big gulp, nervous for whatever the girl was going to do to her and worked up the coursge to do as the girl says.

She turned the corner that Sophia did and saw her walking up the stairs, her hips swaying making her skirt lift slightly. Megan pretended that she didn't see the obvious view Sophia was giving her so she quickly followed behind until they were walking next to each other.

"S-So, uhm... hi?" Sophia snickers at the girl's awkwardness, sensing thay she's tense.

"Relax, I'm not gonna murder you I just... wanna talk to a familiar face, is all." Megan nods along to Sophia's words and continues to follow by her side. They continue to walk next to each other, Megan hesitating to speak until they're at the end of a hallway, a door standing in front of them. Sophia opens the door and nudges her head inside," Ladies first?"

The corner of Megan's lips raise for a second before walking in. She doesn't look back until she hears the door closes. Just as she turns back, Sophia wraps her hands around her shoulders, surprising the girl for a second. Their faces are impossibly close without touching and Megan smell the lip gloss Sophia had on her perfect lips.

"So... rumor has it that you like me... Is that true, Mei-Mei?" Sophia asks, using the nickname she heard from Manon earlier. Megan pretends blood isn't rushing to every part of her body, and by every part she means every part.

"Uhm... I mean—where did you exactly hear that?" Sophia giggles, taking a step forward, prompting Megan to take a step back. They keep moving till Megan feels the back of her legs hit the bed and she stumbles backwards, laying down on the mattress.

"Oh come on, baby. It was very obvious. Don't even try to deny it was." Megan backed up so that she was properly laying on the bed, her elbows keeping her up. Sophia took off her jacket that she was wearing and tossed it somewhere in the room. Megan opened her mouth to retaliate but was quickly shut up when Sophia got on the bed too, immediately moving to straddle Megan's waist.

"F-fuck... uhm, how bout we talk about this cause I don't think—oh, yup that's my belt." Megan babbles out as Sophia moves to unbuckle the girl's belt. She unhooks the belt prong from the hole. She stops and looks at the girl once more," If you want to, we can stop. But, by context clues, it seems your friend doesn't want me to."

Megan's face turns redder than Sophia's lips. Just as she was about to open her mouth to speak, the door burst open and entered two very drunk guys, sloppily making out. Before any other actions further went down, Sophia yelled in a stern voice," Hey! What the fuck guys, can't you see we're occupied?"

The two immediately broke a part and one of them started laughing while the other murmured apologies through his drunk giggles. They exit and kindly lock the door for them.

Sophia turned back to the girl under her as the door closed. Her grip on Megan's belt loosened a bit and she smirks," So, is this your first time or what?"

"L-Like... with a girl, having sex, getting a boner around said girl? Cause all of the above," Megan says in a shaky voice. Sophia giggles at the girl's awkardness and she moves herself, grinding against the tent in her pants making Megan groan.

"God... you're so cute. My pretty boy," Megan doesn't realize she's whimpering at the nickname until Sophia points it out," You like when I call you mine? Or do you like it when I call you 'pretty boy?'"

"U-Uhm... all of the above?"

Sophia smiles," That's what I thought. Lift your hips a bit for me, baby." Megan obeys the girls words and lifts her hips, allowing Sophia easier access to take off her belt. The filipina feels the pressure of Megan's member between her pants and groans.

"You're so needy for me aren't you? So worked up and I barely even touched skin." She gets off Megan momentarily to take off bother her pants and boxers, her member springing up immediately. Sophia's eyes widen, taken aback by the (literally) huge sight.

"Holy fuck, you're huge..." Sophia says in a breathy voice.

"I-Is that a bad thing...?" Megan asks in a whimper. Sophia looks at her and leans down to hover over her lips. Her hand slides down Megan's stomach, her hand reaching under her shirt and then slowly down to her erect member, lightly grasping it. Megan gasps and Sophia takes the opportunity to kiss her opened lips. They sloppily make-out and Sophia's hand slowly starts to stroke Megan's member, the Canto girl whimpering in her mouth as she feels heat go all over her body. They pull away after a moment and Sophia looks down at Megan's hips as they lift up to pump into Sophia's hand.

"Not at all, baby. In fact, I'm gonna show you how much of a good thing it is."

✰ ✰ ✰

The next thing Megan knew is that she wasn't in her bed. In fact, she wasn't in her clothes either. She sat up and looked around at the unfamiliar setting. The room she was in was cozy, to say the least. Fairy lights lined up the walls and multiple posters of K-Pop groups and movies decorated the empty spaces. She patted herself down, lookingn for her phone before reaching into the pocket of pajamas that weren't hers, taking her phone out and checking what time it was. The phone showed 12pm, way past the time her classes started. She groaned and flopped on the pillow she was just laying on, immediately hit with a familiar scent.

"If you're worried about missing classes, then don't. Cause it's Sunday." Megan's eyes shot up and looked at the doorway to see Sophia with two mugs in her hand. One of them had a cute cat design and the other had every member of BTS on it.

"Don't mind the mugs, I literally had nothing else which reminds me I probably should go to IKEA soon." She hands the cat mug to Megan and she hesitates before taking it. Looking in the mug before drinking it.

"It's just black coffee with a little sugar, I didn't know how you wanted it so I just made it the way I usually like it," Megan nods as she finishes her sip. She breathes in and out before looking at Sophia.

"Hey... did we?" Sophia finishes her gulp before putting her mug on the side table. She presses her lips together before nodding a yes. Megan turns red and buries her face in her hand.

"Oh my god, I am so sorry—"

"Woahhhh, what do you have to be sorry for? You were really good last night." Megan peaked through her hands.

"I-I was?" Sophia just nodded, taking another sip of her mug," Oh yeah, I'm telling you I think my throat hurts from screaming so much. That's why we came back to my place, we got a noise complaint from people who were doing it too in the room adjacent to us, can you believe that?"

Megan buries her head in her hands again mumbling a "no" before laying back down. They sit in an awkward silence before Megan asks," How bout the other girls? What happened to them?"

"Oh they're fine, they drove Yoonchae home, thank god. They wanted me to tell you good job on 'finally bagging a baddie.' Whatever that meant."

Megan groans," I'm gonna kill them, o-em-gee..."

Sophia giggles before putting her mug down again and climbing into bed with Megan. She takes her hands off of her face and turns her head to face her. Sophia gives Megan a kiss on her nose before whispering," You're so cute flustered."

Megan relaxes and just stares into Sophia's eyes. They gleamed perfectly in the noon light, telling a hundred different stories at once. Megan wanted to tell her how beautiful she was, how much her heart stops and time seems to be moving in slow motion while they're together. But all she can manage out is—

"Stay with me for a bit?"

Sophia giggles," Of course, baby. I'll stay for as long as you want me to."

✰ ✰ ✰

yay :))) i really liked this fic ngl so yeah hope yall did too okay byeeeeee 🫶🫶

[sunny44]

I would love you either way

Pairing: Carlos Sainz x girlfriend!reader

Warnings: pregnancy talk, infertility etc…

Summary: Carlos notices that you’ve been acting weird and he decides to ask you why.

Y/n had been acting strangely lately, and it didn't go unnoticed by me and I couldn't help but worry about her.

We’ve have been together for a few years, and our relationship was filled with love and happiness but something had been bothering Y/n and I was determined to find out what it was.

So today was the day, as I sat on her side I took her hand in mine and she looked at me.

“Y/n." he began. "You've been very distant lately and it's been worrying me. Is there something you're not telling me?"

She hesitated for a moment, her eyes filled with tears. She took a deep breath and started to talk.

"Carlos, I went to see a doctor a few days ago and she told me something that's been weighing on my mind.”

I was very concerned when she said she went to see the doctor and bad things started to cross my mind.

“Tell me, love. What did the doctor say?"

Y/n took another deep breath before revealing.

“The doctor told me that the chances of me getting pregnant are very low, almost non-existent. It's been bothering me because I've always dreamed of having children one day and I know you wanted too and I was scared that when I told you about this you would leave me for someone that can give you this.”

I was silent for a moment, processing the news.

I could see the pain in her eyes and he knew I needed to choose my words carefully.

“Babe, I love you so much and I would never leave you for something like this. This isn’t the only way we could have kids.” She cried more. “I know that it’s not the same that having the full experience of having a baby but this doesn’t mean we can’t give a child a new home and parents that would love them so much.”

“It’s just that I feel so useless.”

“Don’t say that, you’re not useless.” I hold her face. “I know you want to be a mom and we can think about this when were both ready to have a baby. You don’t need to worry about this now, okay?”

“Okay.”

“Did the doctor said that you can’t get pregnant in any way or in the normal way?”

“What do you mean?”

“Because it has the In vitro fertilization, we can try that if the doctor thinks that it could work.”

“We didn’t talk further about it, I was so shocked and sad that I just wanted to get out of there.”

“Okay, so we can discuss the options when we’re ready for it.”

“Okay.” I hugged her and kissed her forehead. “Are we okay?”

“Of course we are, I love you so much and when the time comes, I can’t wait to be the father of your children.” She laughed a little.

“And I can’t wait to be the mother of your children.”

Bonus scene!

Yourusername Instagram stories

“Some days off with my lover.”

[amxrany]

!! CHAPTER 7 / DIASOMNIA ARC SPOILERS !!

Ok I didn't expect Ace's Dream to end up this way, so now I have to tell you guys about it too:

The gang lands in a beach and Cater's having fun with Silver's UM, even taking a video but needing music as an overlay because of Grim's screams 😭. It's quite hot and Sebek asks if we're in Ace's hometown, that's when Deuce replies that Ace lives near the capital of Queendom of Roses while he lives in the southern area.

We also learn more about Cater and Idia as we're exploring the area. Other than skateboarding, Cater also likes to surf and snowboard. Idia tries to talk smack but Ortho butts in by telling the group that he's just like Cater as he rode a vehicle called a "Barca" to race around Island of Woe (and apparently you need a broomstick license and a special vehicle license to handle one).

We reach a vacation house where we find Ace, who's happy to see Deuce, Cater, Yuu and Grim, but is surprised to see the others (Leona, Idia, Silver and Sebek)

We also see Riddle in this dream, who's all decked out in vacation wear (from the Stitch event) that even Cater's surprised. But Dream! Riddle simply wanted to dress the part and even pulled Cater aside for a bit to asked if he looked weird. Sebek thinks that there's no way Riddle would wear something like that irl and that's just Ace's personlaity showing while Silver doesn't see anything wrong as Riddle said this is what people on the beach.

Trey also shows up wearing the Silk City outfit. It turns out that Trey's clothes, the house, and island they're all currently in were lended to them by Kalim's family. Dream! Trey asks Cater why he's in his dorm uniform when he was wearing something different earlier while taking pictures. Cater plays along by saying that he didn't want to get them dirty while cooking, which Dream! Trey believed.

Ace asks us if we want to change our clothes because our dorm uniform looks really stuffy with the weather right now. Leona warns Yuu to not get carried away. We find out that Ace's dream is a celebration for Yuu...because they found a way back to their world. Riddle explains further that not only has Crowley found a way to return Yuu to their world, but he also found a way for Yuu to visit Twisted Wonderland anytime they want to. Stop I'm not okay it's the way that Ace's dream is just wanting people to continue on with their studies safely and Yuu gets to go back home and visit them anytime is just 😭💔

Dream! Riddle suggests that Deuce and the others should go change to more fitting clothes for this occasion. While Cater volunteers with Idia, Leona and Silver to help Trey with the cooking, but really he just uses it as an excuse to discuss what he has observed. He tells Leona about the plan to look out for Ace as Dream! Riddle and Dream! Trey are most likely darkness, and Leona's impressed with how fast he's catching up with the dream mechanics. Even Idia finds it a bit creepy.

But Cater's already used to making the first move to avoid conflict. His plan was to use the first years as they're the only ones who are closer to Ace, meaning that they have a better chance of cracking him while the others keep the NPCs distracted. While the seniors are helping the NPCs, the freshmen are trying to brew up a plan. Ortho brings up the clue having needing a big "shock" from reality, but Sebek said he's useless here since he only meets Ace in electives and let's the main gang handle it.

Deuce goes first, telling Ace that this is all just a dream created by Malleus and that they still haven't found a way for Yuu to go home. He also brings up that we still haven't contacted Mickey yet, Ace doesn't believe them but Deuce (with Grim this time) continue to push him further; this causes him (Ace) to start to disorient. Deuce tells Ace to calm down but he thinks they're just lying but Ortho vouches for them and tells him that they're not. It even goes to the point of Ace asking Yuu if what they're saying is true.

Grim latches himself onto Ace, repeatedly screaming that they're not lying; triggering another flashback. But Ace just chews us out for taking the joke too far, and that we shouldn't ruin the vibes of the vacation. That's when Sebek butts in, calling Ace shallow for ignoring the pleas of his friends. But Ace counters that Sebek couldn't read the room for randomly joining a vacation he has no involvement in.

Sebek replies that he didn't even want to go with the others, but here's just here because he needs to wake Ace up. But Ace's response to the whole dream thing is just him being apathetic, not caring if it's reality or not. Because he thinks if you've lived in a dream long enough, it's not longer a dream isn't it? But a new reality, and not a lot of people can say they're living life without hardship. It's like he already weighed all the outcomes and possibilities of the situation he's in.

Sebek argues back that he cares about Malleus, which is why he and Silver are trying to wake everyone to save him. Because to him, he doesn't want to continue if it means leaving Malleus alone. But Ace doesn't sympathize, he actually blames Malleus for their current predicament and if he gets lonely; he brought it upon himself. To Ace, Sebek's being selfish for ruining his dream just to go and save the one who caused the problem to happen; and to ask Ace's help to defeat Malleus? That's pretty much a death sentence (now Ace isn't exactly a saint either, both are selfish as to how much are they willing to sacrifice for the people they care about). Ace runs away, and that's when Ortho asks the question: if it were someone else, would Sebek hold the same dedication to wake everyone up? Deuce blames Sebek for this, whihc he goes "HUH? WHY ME?!"

Ortho agress with Deuce, Sebek got too emotional and Ace had a point with what he was saying. Sebek tries to defend himself by saying that it's for Malleus and Lilia but what he did is still considered selfish by anyone's standards. Even Ortho admits that's he's selfish too, and also helped because Idia was in trouble; not everyone is forced to do this.

The seniors are back and they all agree with Ace that he isn't exactly necessary to the plan. We actually get to see Silver get mad at Sebek for causing this whole mess, not realizing that his behavior does have consequences. Once again, Sebek tries defending himself but Silver wasn't having it; leaving him no choice but to submit.

Idia says that even if everyone teams up, it's not guaranteed that they can defeat Malleus and Silver prefers not to force people to fight. Even Leona acknowledges that Ace's current magical prowess is just that of an ordinary mage, and that they can simply move on without him (Deuce, Yuu and Grim are saddened by this).

Cater says that Ace is probably frustrated and alone right now, so he chooses to look for him to help him "sleep" without the interference of Leona or Idia. Cater leaves with Yuu, Grim, and Deuce going after him (the others follow suit too just to make sure nothing bad happens). Yuu catches up with him and tries to convince to let them talk to Ace one more time. But Cater affirms that he doesn't intend to leave Ace here and has a plan (awww)

So Cater was right, he finsd Ace alone thinking about the things the others have told him. He lends an ear as he listens to Ace rant about the whole thing, and he agrees that his reaction to everything was normal; but then he suddenly goes "what they're saying is actually true tho" then HE SUMMONS HIS CLONES TO BEAT ACE'S ASS NAURRR 😭😭😭

This causes Dream! Riddle and Dream! Trey to appear and they're mad at Cater for attacking Ace. EVEN DREAM! DEUCE AND DREAM! CATER APPEAR but they just take Ace away. Ortho tries to intervene but the others stop him. With Leona telling the others that Cater asked to not be interfered and Deuce adding that it was also his plan to find a way to trigger the darkness.

Cater's plan is working, as Ace starts to become aware of his surroundings; that the things his dorm mates are saying are stuff they wouldn't say in real life. He also points out that how can someone like him help defeat Malleus, and that he's scared. The darkness actually reveals Ace's vulnerable side and we're just watching it from afar. Silver notices that Ace is being persuaded by the darkness but Idia knows that Ace is clever, that's when Leona chimes in that Ace realizes that there's always going to be someone stronger than him, thus knowing his limits. That's when Idia's like "brotha aren't you just talking about yourself?", cue Leona trying to break his tablet.

We also learn more about how the Dark Mirror chooses its students, while the qualities in which one gets sorted into a dorm remains vague it usually chooses people who leave a mark on history in the future.

Okay going back to Ace, Cater brings up that time during Riddle's overblot and about how quick they were to jump into action. He thanks him for inspiring to fight against their Housewarden that day, also adding that going into fights that are "winnable" seem lame and that he's scared too, but they have to fight. Ace actually starts crying, because he doesn't want to look like a coward and that's what wakes him up.

Cater helps Ace out of the darkness and calls for the others for backup. After that, Grim and Deuce are mad at Ace for trying to stay in the dream. He also nags to Cater about him using his UM on him, but it was the only way to get him to wake up. They show Ace the video and now his pissed at Malleus, but Grim's like "weren't you scared of him earlier???".

Silver thanks Ace for his help and also apologizes for Sebek's behavior, in which Ace blames Lilia and Silver for spoiling him and Sebek's like "I'M NOT SPOILED BY SILVER 😡". Ortho did mention that Sebek looked awkward after their argument and suggests that he should apologize but Idia replies that he has too much of a pride to do so. Ace just bullies Sebek lmao, forgiving him with his "whole heart".

Cater steps in before it gets any worse, and we get ADeuce saying "Dream Form Change" now. Ace still doesn't want to fight Malleus, but given the circumstance he doesn't really have a choice. Once shown his dummy version, Grim just laughs at his outfit and Cater comments on the fruits

The dream ends with the first years complaining about how cramped it is and Leona just tells Silver to get on with it.

And that ends Ace's Dream, took me awhile to get this out because we actually learn a lot about him in this one and I really tried my best to give him justice yknow?

We're off to Trey's Dream next, see you then!

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(Note: This post is a summarized version of the update, info and pics comes from @/LBucchie, @/WitchDrug, and @/acesuuu on x/twt, give them some support if you can)