#Homeless Pattern

[reasonsforhope]

"According to National Coalition for the Homeless, 40% of the country’s homeless youth population is comprised of LGTBQ+ teens. 

When New York native Austin Rivers took up knitting during the COVID-19 pandemic, it was this staggering figure that drove him towards action. 

“I don’t have the capacity to build a shelter, the network or the connections to help in that way, but what I can do is knit,” Rivers told NBC News. 

“And I know that New York City is cold, so I decided I would start knitting and create this nonprofit.”

That’s when he founded Knit the Rainbow, an organization that distributes free handmade garments to those in need. 

And nearly five years after it was first created, Rivers’ knitting collective isn’t just serving the queer community in New York City.

Their nationwide network links local yarn stores and local nonprofits with over 550 volunteers from 45 states. 

As of 2024, they have collected and distributed over 25,000 winter garments — including sweaters, hats, gloves, scarves, and socks — throughout homeless communities in New Jersey, Chicago, Detroit, and beyond. 

Once clothing items are shipped to Rivers’ apartment, he works with volunteers to unpack boxes, tag and sort donations, and pack and deliver them to local shelters that provide housing to LGBTQ+ and HIV+ homeless youth. 

Although the organization’s impact is wider, and the piles of mail have grown higher, Rivers still has a hand in day-to-day deliveries. 

“We’re going to do it whether it’s rain, or snow, or shine,” Rivers said in his NBC News interview, pulling a handcart topped with boxes. 

Those clothes could be the difference between frostbite and hospitalization, especially in cities that often drop below freezing in the wintertime. 

But Rivers also noted that every handmade item — knitted, crocheted, or stitched — has a dual impact, because every piece of clothing is made with love. 

“A lot of the times, the reason that they’re unhoused is because they were kicked out by their families,” Rivers said. 

“We’re not just providing warmth, but we’re also providing that love and that compassion that they so often don’t have.” 

To the members of the community Knit The Rainbow served, he had a clear message.

“There are thousands of people out here that are constantly thinking of you and using their hands to make things for you,” Rivers emphasized. “So don’t give up. Keep going.”

To download free knitting [and crochet] patterns, donate a garment, or sign up to volunteer, you can visit the organization's website to get started." 

‍-via GoodGoodGood, December 23, 2024

[thecrochetcrowd]

Craft Wrap and Knot Cowl Pattern

  Wrap and Knot Craft Cowl Vivid Wrap & Knot Style Make an incredible cowl without having to knit or crochet it. Seriously! You just need to wrap this scarf around a neck to get the right size and from there, you are creating a masterpiece. Free Pattern: Wrap and Knot Cowl Vivid Yarn by Red Heart is new as of 2013. It is the thickest yarn ever produced by Red Heart. The entire line is loud with…

[sillyfudgemonkeys]

Plot twist, the orphan is also probably the better cook ironically enough.

Anyway, don't mind me~! Just brainworming across diff ships/fandoms. (￣^￣)ゞ

[3liza]

I think it must be for the lack of going outside of your room on this website that debates about personal presentation and appearance literally never have any material analysis. sorry it's counterrevolutionary to shave my legs or wear makeup or a bra or style my hair in certain ways or "worry" about visible signs of aging but have some of you just never encountered real world situations where those things caused measurable problems dealing with other people, jobs, money, respectability, access to resources, or the ability to influence important situations? this starts happening when you go outside a lot. there's a debate on my dash rn about balding and finasteride in which not a single person has mentioned the potential negative social outcomes of losing your hair and how that can affect socioeconomic status and personal risk. maybe someone doesn't need to be "vain" to care about keeping their hair and consider the risks of medication for it. maybe they've seen how bald people get treated and referred to and made a cost benefit calculation that they can't afford, sometimes literally, to eat that cost, with everything else they've got going on. maybe I wear makeup when I have to go talk to doctors and other gatekeepers because people make assumptions about your class and mental status when you have "bad skin" and "eye bags". maybe a lot of women who wear uncomfortable restrictive bras and shave whatever and buy skin products and do gua sha have already been sharply punished when someone saw leg hair or a mustache or puffy greasy skin or god forbid their nipple through their shirt. not everyone can just say "fuck it, I can afford to eat one more social cost that will measurably impact my ability to get medical treatment or pay rent". sorry this sounds like an economics lecture, that's because it is

if you are about to tell me a long story about how you personally have not been affected by perceptions of your appearance actually so you can conclude it never happens at all, please don't. sometimes you get lucky, that's it. and on this website I think it's less likely that you're lucky and more likely that you're oblivious

[epitomees]

WHAT DO YOU MEAN HE WAS GONNA BE BALD?!??

[cherrygirlfriend]

─── SMACK! ♡

♡ pairing: ceo!rafe x housewife!reader

♡ summary: rafe is obsessed with his wife’s ass.

♡ warnings / tags: fluff, smut, MDNI! wc: 1k

♡ author's note: for the person who requested something with rafe who’s an ass man!! also this reminded me of my pilates princess fic !!

HOUSEWIFE MASTERLIST ♡ RAFE MASTERLIST

a prompt smack! echoed throughout your kitchen as you felt rafe's hand land on your ass, giving it a sharp smack over your thin shorts. you simply laughed, continuing to make breakfast for you and your husband as the man wrapped his arms around your midriff, pulling you into him. "you're distracting me..." you mumbled as rafe's lips found the side of your neck, a semi pressing into your ass.

"good. means 'm doin' my job right. appreciatin' my wife." he mumbled into your skin as you continued to poke at the omelette with a spatula, "i'm gonna burn our breakfast." you laughed softly as your other hand trailed up to his head, carding through the short strands of hair. "i'd rather have you for breakfast..." rafe's lips trailed down to your shoulder. "you already did." you grinned, "twice."

"and it was the best thing i ever tasted." "greedy man." you laughed softly as you turned the stove off, moving the pan to a burner that was off, before turning around in rafe's arms, looking up at him with a small smile on your face as his hands slid down to cup your ass, one of them squeezing the round flesh. "you're gonna be late for work." "baby, i make my own schedule." he grinned.

"well, i don't make my own schedule." your words made your husband pout, "what's even on your schedule? i made sure to have all your time when we agreed that your only job was to look pretty." you rolled your eyes at his words, even though you couldn't help the small smile on your lips, your cheeks starting to feel warm. "i'm taking some baked goods to the homeless center, then i have pilates and after that, i'm gonna meet up with lola for coffee."

"god, you're almost as busy as me at this point." rafe tsked, looking down at you with a grin, "my little philanthropist." he gave one last smack to your ass before pulling away, "alright. let's have breakfast i guess." your husband grumbled.

when you got home, you were still in your pilates gear, a pair of tight white leggings, a matching sports bra, and a light pink fitted zip-up jacket. you looked down at your watch and noticed there was still around an hour before rafe would be getting home.

thirty minutes later, as you were cutting vegetables for dinner, you heard the front door open and close, your brows rising slightly in surprise when your husband walked to the kitchen doorway, a grin on his lips, "you're home early." you chuckled softly as he strode to you with confidence, rolling up his sleeves. "i had something urgent to tell you."

"what's up?" you asked, your brows furrowing in confusion and slight concern, only for rafe to bring his lips to yours and sliding his arms around your waist, catching you off guard, until eventually, you melted into the kiss.

when he pulled away from the kiss, you looked up at him with your brows raised, "was that the urgent thing you just had to tell me?" "oh, no." rafe grinned down at you, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear, "it was that i missed you."

you smack his chest softly with a floral-patterned oven mitt, feeling your cheeks warm up at his honeyed words, your lips starting to quirk up before you turned back to the vegetables you were cutting, picking the knife back up. "i have dinner to prepare."

"y'know, we could always just order in..." rafe's large hand slid onto your back as his eyes, hungry for something other than the meal you'd planned to prepare, trailed down your body, his hand following suite to the curve of your ass, a grin slowly taking over his lips, "these new?" he mumbled, referring to the white leggings you were wearing, "yeah, yeah. i wore them to pilates."

that made your husband let out a dramatic gasp, "you're telling me you wore these in front of other people?" he gave your ass a soft smack, making you chuckle, "and did you wear them when you went out for coffee, too?" "naturally." that earned you a slightly sharper smack, rafe watching your ass bounce slightly in the skin-tight fabric, "haven't we talked about how i don't want you showing my pretty ass to other men?"

"oh? it's your ass now?" you laughed; you were well aware of rafe's obsession with your ass; he loved smacking it, rubbing it, squeezing it, resting his head on it when you were laying in bed... whenever you two went out somewhere, his hand was unashamedly resting on your ass, no matter how inappropriate.

"as long as you have those rings on your finger this ass belongs to me." rafe grins, pulling you into him, his lips finding your neck, each of his actions convincing you more and more, a low whine leaving your lips, "c'mon, baby. we could order in, fool around on the couch a bit before the food arrives..." his large hand slid down the waistband of your shorts, your breath getting caught in your throat as you arched into him, the back of your head going to rest on your shoulder.

"rafe..." "c'mon..."

when his hand slid down into your panties and rafe's long middle finger made contact with your clit, you could finally feel yourself give in, the knife clattering down onto the cutting board. he spun you around, making you squeal, his strong hands gripping your hips, "is that a yes?"

you rolled your eyes as if it was a bother and let out a soft breath of a laughter.

"it's a yes." you mumbled, connecting your lips with rafe's.

TAGLIST : @raahosh, @nemesyaaa, @purpleplumpudding, @littlelamy, @dollyfiles, @esotericcangel, @mattyskies, @bakugouswaif, @nonietosay, @my-name-is-baby, @tinythebunni, @fratbrochrisgf, @ariieeesworld, @silkylovey, @izumis-salty-penis, @cameronsbabydoll, @love-ella333, @haylorbestie, @k4yr14, @harringtonsbowgirl, @lacelottie

click here to join my taglist! 💌

[numbpill]

helpful links & resources for web graphics

(✿◕‿◕)♡ here's a list of pages from carrd, neocities, tumblr, and rentry where you can find pixel dividers, favicons, transparent pngs, and other graphics to decorate your site.

carrd resources

✧ gifcity.carrd.co – a collection of blinkies, buttons, pixel dividers, stamps, and image masks. contains bright and flashing colors.

✧ decohoard.carrd.co – an archive of decorative images, including banners, stamps, dividers, favicons, pixel art, and more.

✧ enchantments.carrd.co – features backgrounds, dividers, gifs, and links. site navigation is hidden in the page titles.

✧ storagespaced.carrd.co – still being built, but already has sections for dividers, stamps, buttons, blinkies, and more.

neocities resources

✧ pixelsafari.neocities.org/dividers – a huge collection of pixel dividers sorted into themes like hearts, stars, ribbons, plants, music, and more.

✧ y2k.neocities.org – an aesthetic archive of 2000s-era graphics, including transparent PNGs, buttons, and banners.

✧ gifcities.org – an archive of old Geocities gifs, perfect for a retro web aesthetic.

✧ sadgrl.online/graphics – provides pixel decorations, dividers, blinkies, and stamps.

tumblr resources

✧ luigraphics.tumblr.com – custom rentry graphics, icons, favicons, dividers, banners, and more.

✧ sweetparty.tumblr.com – posts a variety of pixel dividers in different colors and themes.

✧ vaniillamyk.tumblr.com – specializes in dividers, including unique black and red polka dot designs.

✧ oldwebstuff.tumblr.com – a blog dedicated to collecting and posting graphics inspired by early 2000s web design.

rentry resources

✧ rentry.co/pixel-dividers – a curated list of pixel dividers and decorations.

✧ rentry.co/oldweb – a hub for nostalgic web graphics, including favicons, stamps, and icons.

✧ rentry.co/webcore – focused on Y2K and webcore aesthetics, offering backgrounds, dividers, and transparent images.

extra resources

✧ stickpng.com – find transparent PNG images in various categories.

✧ iconsdb.com – free icons in customizable colors.

✧ subtlepatterns.com – seamless background patterns.

✧ blingee.com – make custom glittery images.

(¬‿¬) if you know of any other good resources, feel free to drop them in the replies! i plan on making a neocities page just for keeping up with potentially EVERY single resource site i can find.

ps ps- i am desperately in need of some pretty serious dental work (thanks depression) and would graciously ask you to check out my custom themes and resources on my ko-fi, it would help me a lot and i need some really expensive work done basically to avoid having dentures or no teeth at all as embarassing as thatt is to admit. i am also homeless, livng in my broken down car as i type this, so any support financially is pretty much a dire need and something i would appreciate beyond words. sorry for the negativity, dont take it as a downer, im smiling right now!! :P

check out my ko-fi!

[angelicgirlmj]

100+ angelic christmas gift ideas

𓂋

˚₊‧꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

i adore christmas - its one of my favourite holidays! so beautiful and wintery, the lights and decorations, mugs of hot chocolate, childhood memories and so many traditions make it such a special time of year for me. i however, often struggle with knowing what to ask for or what i want for christmas, so i created a little inspo list to help me and anyone else! whether this is for a family member, friend, partner or even yourself im sure this will help you know exactly what you want (or at least give you some pointers in the right direction). these are all obviously just suggestions and vary in price so please put down in the comments what you are asking for this year! enjoy angel!!

uggs

victoria secret pjs

cozy fluffy socks

laneige lip balm

lush body lotions

rose quartz gua sha

glossier makeup

dior lip oil

sonny angels

yoga mat

silk pillowcases

litre water bottle

candles

jelly cats

cute claw clips

ear warmers

books

cute planner

posters or tapestries

camera

philosophy body washes

makeup bag

sylvanian baby blind bags

slippers

matcha

records or cds

five minute journal

desk or wall calendar

eye mask and bonnet

fluffy blankets

large candles

benetint lip tint

rare beauty products

cuticle oil and glass nail file

gold jewellery

silver jewellery

knee high boots

colourful/printed tights

pocket mirror

mugs

house plants

hair band or cute hair clips

gisou hair products

highlighters

charlotte tilbury makeup

pretty nail polishes

salt lamp or other lamp

tea bags (chai, green etc)

wallet or purse

bag charms

dyson hair wrap

your fave chocolates

makeup bag

quilt

vintage room decor

fluffy/patterned rug

new phonecase

slippers

headphones

rings

belt

portable speaker

crystals

fuzzy scarf and gloves

patterned tote bag

dried flowers

fairy lights

jewellery box or trinket dish

photo album

bath oils

incense

locket

bows or pretty scrunchies

sunglasses

mini crates or storage boxes

lululemon clothes

new bedsheets

laptop case

cute pillows

hair curlers

alarm clock

vintage/thrifted clothes

picture frames

snowglobes

miniature trinkets

personalised charm bracelet

makeup brushes

diffuser

face masks

lego

coffee table books

skims

tea infuser

reusable straw

warm jacket

sports bag

keyrings

jumpers

heels

charity donation

thank you so much for reading angels! this season is such a wonderful time of year because of the ideas and ethos surrounding it; one of giving. this winter should be about our loved ones and those in need. whether you do something as simple as donating old clothes to charity or making christmas cards for the homeless, i would encourage everyone (myself included) to make it their mission to give back in at least one way. remember - angels are kind and generous inside and out! as we plan our gifts or think about shopping and the fun things to come let’s all take a moment to reflect on how we can give back.

love, m.

p.s it’s never too early for christmas!

𓂋

˚₊‧꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

[ginnsbaker]

All Of Your Pieces (19 - Exile)

Chapter Summary: You were fugitives, that was the word people used. Criminals, outlaws, call it what you wanted. The point was you couldn’t go home. The United States was off-limits, for obvious reasons. And Wanda couldn’t go back to Sokovia because there was no Sokovia to go back to. She was as homeless as you were, as rootless as an old stump yanked out of the earth.

You realized that’s what you both were now: orphans again. You could call it freedom, call it a fresh start, pretend it was anything other than what it was.

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Female Reader Chapter word count: 5.6k+ | Chapter Tags: Slight angst, hurt/comfort

A/N: Whew! Another update in less than a week. Don't get used to it ;) I do have a pleasant surprise at the end of this chapter :P Also, very off topic: I'm so proud of our homegrown talent, tennis player Alex Eala. Doesn't matter if she's unable to beat world #2 later, I'm so damn proud of her! // More author's notes here.

Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist

The pounding on your door jolted you awake. You groaned, burying your face deeper into the pillow, but the knocking only grew louder. Relentless. Annoyingly insistent.

“Y/N!” Natasha’s voice came from the otherside, impatient, the crowing roosters doing nothing to drown her out. “Open up!”

With a muffled curse, you kicked the blanket off and stumbled to the door, still half-asleep and not caring that you were barely dressed. “What the hell, Nat?” you muttered, reaching for the handle. “It’s too early for this.”

Yanking the door open, you were ready to unleash a tirade—only to find Wanda standing beside Natasha, already dressed and a little red-faced. Whatever you meant to say died in your throat, your hand subconsciously moving to your chest to cover yourself.

“What’s happening?” you asked, blinking between them.

Natasha crossed her arms, smirking at your half-naked state. Wanda’s turned the other way, out of respect, of course, and well—

“Steve finally called. Get dressed.”

It took a moment for the words to register. “Steve called? What did he—”

“Get. Dressed,” Natasha interrupted, emphasizing each word as she turned on her heel and started walking down the hallway.

You glanced at Wanda, who hadn’t said anything yet. “Good morning,” you greeted softly. She shifted slightly under your scrutiny, her hands tucked into the pockets of her jacket. “You should hurry,” she said softly before following Natasha out. 

You nodded and closed the door, quickly throwing on whatever you could find. Your mind raced as you moved, trying to piece together what could’ve happened. If Steve was calling now, it meant something had changed—and probably not for the better.

When you stepped back out into the hall, Wanda and Natasha were waiting for you. Wanda’s eyes lingered on you briefly before she looked away. Natasha was already heading toward the exit, her pace brisk.

“Come on,” she called over her shoulder. “We don’t have all day.”

—

The burner phone lay in the center of a small, round table, right out in the open of a practically empty café. A few early risers drifted in and out, some grabbing coffee to start their day, others hurrying to catch a bus or a train. Outside, a tram rattled by on its tracks, and the scent of fresh bread drifted out from a bakery down the street. It felt like an ordinary morning in an ordinary city, but you knew better. Everything was balanced on a knife’s edge, and the four of you sat scattered around the table—close enough to show unity, distant enough not to draw too much attention.

For weeks, the four of you had been stuck in this strange holding pattern, drifting from apartment to apartment somewhere in Europe. Nothing here felt like home, and yet you couldn’t say with certainty that it wouldn’t have to be, at least for a while. You’d scrounged for intel, picked up rumors, listened for coded radio transmissions. The lack of progress had gotten under your skin. No one said it, but you all knew it; staying still for too long was dangerous.

Steve had given an exact time to call, and all of you watched the seconds tick closer to the moment he’d promised.

Until, finally, the burner phone buzzed to life.

It was Natasha who snatched the phone up and answered, putting it on speaker but setting the volume so low, only trained ears would be able to hear from it. “Steve.”

“Nat. Everyone there?”

“We’re here,” she said, her eyes darting briefly to the three expectant faces around her. “What’s the situation?”

“I’ll get straight to it,” Steve said. “We’ve regrouped enough people to make a plan, but things are still fragile. Bucky’s safe. He’s in Wakanda, and Shuri’s working on helping him. He’s making progress.”

“Wakanda,” Sam repeated quietly. “Why aren’t we all in Wakanda? It’s got the tech, the resources—hell, it sounds like the safest place for us right now.”

Steve sighed on the other end. “It’s not that simple. T’Challa’s already taken a huge risk harboring Bucky. If we all show up, we’ll draw too much attention to Wakanda. That can’t happen.

“Listen—I know this isn’t what you want to hear, but we need to lay low. The Sokovia Accords are in full effect, and we’re all wanted. We can’t operate the way we used to.”

No one so much as shifted at the news. Deep down, you’d expected this, but hearing it out loud just made it more real.

“Here’s the thing,” Steve continued, “we can’t operate like we used to. And, for an indefinite time, we won’t be able to go home without being arrested. Legally, we can’t do our duty. Maybe it’s time we hang up the cape—for now, at least. Live like normal people. Find some happiness where we can. If something big happens—something we are needed for—we’ll be there. But until then, protect yourselves first. This is your chance to… to live.”

A silence fell. You expected a plan, a rendezvous, something, but not this: a call to stand down and embrace normalcy. After a moment, Steve said his goodbye and the line went quiet with an abrupt finality.

You looked at Natasha. “What exactly are we supposed to do now?”

She set the phone down, her expression resigned. “You heard him. We’re dismissed from duty. We can live anywhere we want. We’re on our own. If there’s something you’ve always wanted—an ordinary job, a hobby, something you never got the chance to pursue—this is it.”

You stared at her, waiting for the punchline. A normal life. After everything that happened, was that even possible?

Sam got up first. He pulled his jacket tighter around himself, as if he’d made up his mind the moment Steve stopped talking. “Where are you going?” you asked softly.

He gave you a wry smile. “Wakanda. Steve might be saying all the right things to keep us from following him, but knowing him? He won’t be taking any time off. He’s too stubborn, too damn noble. He’s not dragging us further into this mess because he thinks it’s the right thing to do, but I know him. He’ll need backup for whatever he’s planning.”

He was probably right. Steve had never been one to truly walk away, and deep down, all of you knew it. But the instinct to follow him, to fall in line like before, wasn’t there anymore. You glanced at Wanda from the corner of your eye, hoping for a clue that she might feel the same way as Sam, but she only kept looking down at her lap. 

“Take care, Sam,” you said, unsure what else to say.

He grinned, giving you a playful salute before nodding to Natasha. “See you around, folks.”

It felt like a farewell that went beyond Steve and Sam. Natasha pulled out a few bills and placed them on the table, and something like dread settled in your chest. Without thinking, you put a hand on her arm, as if that could stop her from leaving too.

Natasha offered you a sad, knowing smile. “I’ve got things of my own to take care of, Y/N. But I’ll check in. You know I can’t let you out of my sight for too long—you’re trouble.”

She glanced at Wanda, who sat there like a statue pretending to be a person, hands clasped around a cup of coffee she wasn’t going to drink, her phone glowing with some useless distraction she wasn’t really looking at.

“You good, Maximoff?” Natasha asked.

Wanda forced a smile. “I’ll be fine,” she said, and the lie just sat there between the three of you, stinking up the cafe.

Natasha sighed, pushed her chair back, and gave you a quick tilt of her head toward the door. “Walk with me,” she said, already on her feet.

You followed, leaving Wanda alone at the table. She stopped near the restrooms, and you noticed the faint smell of bleach and coffee grounds. When she turned to face you, she wore that familiar look—the one she always had right before saying something you probably didn’t want to hear.

“Don’t let her out of your sight,” Natasha said. She meant Wanda. “She’s fragile. More fragile than she thinks.”

You nodded, swallowing hard. “I know.”

“No, you don’t.” Her voice hardened. “She’s the one most affected by all this. Lagos. The Accords. Vision. If she breaks, it won’t be small. It’ll take everything down with her.”

You wanted to tell her you’d take care of it, that you’d keep Wanda in one piece, but the truth was, you weren’t sure where to start. 

“You don’t blame her for Lagos?” you asked instead, your voice cracking just a little.

Natasha’s laugh was cold, humorless. “Blame? No. But you’re not blind to what she can do. She doesn’t need blame. She needs someone to keep her from drowning in it.”

You nodded again. “I’ll watch her. I’ll make sure she’s okay.”

Natasha gave you a look, the kind that said, I hope you mean that, because if you don’t, I’m coming back for both of you. She patted your shoulder, almost mockingly. 

“Call me if anything changes,” you said, pushing her hand away. 

“Sure,” she replied, and then she was gone. 

You walked back to the table, the space Natasha left behind feeling like a crater. Wanda looked up at you, her eyes searching yours, but not long enough to find anything. “She’s leaving too, isn’t she?” she asked, her voice flat, drained.

“Yeah,” you said, sinking into your chair.

Wanda nodded, like that explained everything, like people leaving was the only thing she truly understood anymore. She glanced down at her phone, but she wasn’t scrolling this time. She just held it, gripping it and staring at a wallpaper of what looked like a city covered in snow.

“Where’s that?” you asked, nodding toward her phone.

Wanda immediately deposited it facedown on the table. “Sokovia,” she said softly. “At least… what it was before Ultron.”

Sokovia, a place that didn’t exist anymore except on a digital wallpaper and inside her head. You remembered the news footage, the images of destruction on every network, people whispering that it was like the world was falling apart piece by piece. Now it existed only in a snapshot, a memory so distant it might as well have been some dream you both shared and forgot until now.

You were fugitives, that was the word people used. Criminals, outlaws, call it what you wanted. The point was you couldn’t go home. The United States was off-limits, for obvious reasons. And Wanda couldn’t go back to Sokovia because there was no Sokovia to go back to. She was as homeless as you were, as rootless as an old stump yanked out of the earth.

You realized that’s what you both were now: orphans again. You could call it freedom, call it a fresh start, pretend it was anything other than what it was. 

But it sucked.

It sucked like a vacuum hole in the universe, pulling in every last ounce of consolation you tried to salvage.

There were only two of you now. What happens then?

Wanda pushed back her chair suddenly, the sound scraping against the floor. You blinked, startled out of your thoughts as she stood.

“Where are you going?” you asked.

She grabbed her phone and slid it into her pocket without meeting your eyes. “You heard them. We’re free to leave.”

“To leave?” you repeated, your breath coming in gasps as you tried to catch up. 

“Back to the hotel. I’m packing my things.”

A dumb question hovered on your tongue—Pack them and then what?—but you already knew how pathetic it would sound. She stood there, hands at her sides, looking as if she might bolt at any second. You wondered if she was waiting for you to protest, to say something that could change her mind, something that might tether both of you to this flimsy refuge of a café.

But what could you say? For the first time, the weight of being “free” weighed more than any chain. And freedom, in its very core, meant going off in your own directions and pretending it wasn’t terrifying.

“Right,” you said, voice thin. “Of course.”

That was it, then. You could follow her and hope your presence wasn’t another burden, or you could let her walk away and watch the frangible thread between you stretch thinner and thinner until it snapped.

You looked down at the overturned phone on the table, Sokovia trapped inside it, and thought, This is what’s left of us: old ghosts and borrowed time.

—

Following Wanda out of Valencia wasn’t as easy as you’d expected. Keeping your distance meant relying on old-fashioned methods—no GPS, no tracking devices—anything that might risk being intercepted. It made the task slower, harder, and far more nerve-wracking. 

You could’ve just asked to go with her. But you didn’t know how to ask. And honestly, you were more afraid she’d say no.

Wanda didn’t make it easy, either. The first day, you almost lost her twice. She moved like she was on a strict schedule. You followed her on foot at first, blending into the steady trickle of tourists and sleepy locals making their way through narrow lanes. She’d pause at a corner bakery, pretend to study the display of pastries, then slip down a side passage that led to a different part of the city—like she was testing you, daring you to keep up. You hung back at each corner, counting to ten under your breath, imagining the worst: Interpol agents appearing out of every corner of the street, or maybe even Iron Man himself, coming to deliver you to the authorities himself. 

By late afternoon, Wanda boarded a train heading north, and so did you—two cars down, far enough that she wouldn’t see you if she glanced over her shoulder. The train clattered through towns and countryside, the Spanish sun bleeding into a moody gray as you crossed into France. You’d half-expected her to notice you by now, to turn around and say something like, Why are you here? But she didn’t. She kept her eyes on the passing scenery or on her phone.

By the time you reached Paris, the city was dark and alive in a way that felt too blaring for someone on the run. Wanda didn’t stay for long, just long enough to grab a coffee and switch trains. You stayed in her shadow, moving when she moved, stopping when she stopped, and it wasn’t until London that she finally slowed down. 

Wanda drifted through the alleys with a kind of restless purpose, like she didn’t know exactly where she was going but couldn’t bring herself to stop. Eventually, she led you to a small, weathered hotel on a quiet street, its faded sign a relic of better days.

You hung back, leaning against the wall across the street, pretending to check your watch as she checked in. Her suitcase rolled behind her, the door clicking shut as she disappeared inside. For a moment, you thought about letting it end there. She’d made her choice—she was free to leave. You weren’t supposed to follow her, weren’t supposed to hold her back.

But even if Natasha hadn’t told you to keep Wanda in sight, you knew you’d still be here, unable to pull yourself away. And that was the crux of the problem lately: you just couldn’t leave Wanda alone.

An hour passed, maybe more, and you were still there, slouched against the crumbling wall across from the hotel, feeling ridiculous. A one-person stakeout for someone who didn’t even know you were watching. Wanda hadn’t left her room, and for all you knew, she’d fallen asleep—or worse, she was sitting by the window, watching you make a fool of yourself out here.

You sighed, shoving your hands deep into your pockets. This was pitiful, even for you. Standing around like some washed-up private eye with no case to solve. You glanced down the street and spotted the neon glow of a pub sign. 

Finally, with a sigh, you pushed off the wall and headed for the pub. If Wanda wasn’t going anywhere tonight, then neither were you—not far, anyway. And if you were going to keep this vigil up, you might as well kill the time inside with something stronger than boredom.

The pub was appropriately poorly lit. You slid onto a stool at the bar, nodding to the bartender as he came over. “Whiskey,” you said.

The first glass went down easy, smooth and burning in all the right ways. It dulled the hundred thoughts in your head, but it wasn’t enough. So you ordered another. And another. 

Somewhere between the third and fourth glass, you started trying to figure out what the hell you were even doing here. What was the plan? Were you supposed to tail Wanda forever, like some overzealous babysitter? What did living even look like now—for you, for her?

In your haze, Steve’s words floated back to you. This is your chance to live. Great advice, except it didn’t come with instructions for people who didn’t know how to do that anymore. It was such a foreign concept, that he might as well have advised you to live outside the planet. 

And Wanda… God, Wanda. Nothing had gone her way in what felt like forever. Sokovia. Her brother. Being an Avenger. Vision.

You stared into your glass, swirling the meager amount of alcohol you’ve left in there. The truth, the ugly truth, was that you didn’t know how to help her. And that was all you cared about right now—helping Wanda.

So you drank. And with every sip, the world blurred a little more, and the questions you couldn’t answer faded into the haze.

 —

You woke up to a splitting headache and the taste of old whiskey on your tongue. Your eyes struggled to adjust to the thin light bleeding through mismatched curtains, and the first thing you noticed was that this definitely wasn’t your hotel room.

Not that it mattered much—you couldn’t recall booking one in the first place. 

You were lying on a lumpy couch, one cushion half-slid to the floor, and a blanket that unduly smelled like laundry detergent draped over you. By the stiffness in your neck and the fuzz in your brain, you guessed it was morning—unfortunately.

You tried to remember how you got here, but that memory was wrapped in cotton and drenched in whiskey. Something about a pub, something about Wanda…

“You caused quite a scene last night.”

Wanda’s voice.

You looked over to see her standing by a small window, arms crossed. She didn’t smile. If anything, her mouth was a tight line, her eyes narrowed. She didn’t exactly look angry—just disappointed in a way that made you want to crawl under the throw pillows and die. 

Wanda tilted her head, arms crossed. “You remember last night?”

You blinked at her, pushing up to a sitting position and holding your throbbing head. You remembered going into the pub. You cleared your throat, tested the waters: “I… might’ve had a little too much.”

Wanda let out a humorless laugh, so subtle you almost missed it. “You were bragging to everyone that you were an Avenger on the run.”

Your stomach lurched. You’d done what? “I was… what?”

“Don’t worry, everyone was too drunk to take you seriously. Half of them were telling stories about being secret princes or rock stars. I think one old guy claimed he was dating the Queen. But you… you really went for it.”

“I’m sorry,” you said quietly. “I didn’t—”

She held up a hand, stopping you. “It’s fine. We’re safe. You just got lucky this time.” Her gaze darted to the window, checking the street beyond. It was quiet out there, no sirens, no S.W.A.T. teams rappelling down. Just a quiet morning in this nowhere part of town.

You rubbed at your face, feeling shame and headache wrestling for dominance in your head. Last night, after you’d realized Wanda wasn’t going anywhere, you decided to kill time by getting drunk off your ass. And because fate had a sense of humor, she’d found you this way—hungover, pathetic, big mouth running off about being a wanted fugitive.

Wanda peeled herself from the window, turned, and leveled her eyes at you. 

“Why were you following me?”

She looked worn out, rings under her eyes, hair slightly askew, as if she’d barely slept. You wondered if she’d stayed up all night, pacing this tiny room, working up the nerve to confront you.

You exhaled, rubbing at the bridge of your nose. Your hangover pulsed dully, and you tried to think of how to say what you needed to say. “I… don’t want to do this freedom thing alone.” You swallowed. “And I do enjoy your company, Wanda. You’re—well, you’re my friend. At least, I’d like to think so.”

At that, Wanda snorted, a short, derisive sound. “My friend?” she repeated, as if trying the word on for size. “You’re sure it has nothing to do with what Natasha told you? About keeping an eye on me?”

Your blood chilled. You didn’t think Wanda knew about that conversation—Nat had pulled you aside, quiet and careful. But here she was, calling you out. You realized that, of course, Wanda would’ve picked up on it. She wasn’t just anyone; she noticed things, felt things, that most people overlooked.

She could always read people if she wanted to, in quite the literal sense.

“I—” You started, but your throat closed up. What could you say? That yes, Nat had asked you to watch her, but you would’ve done it anyway? That you actually cared?

“I don’t need a babysitter,” she said. “If that’s why you’re here, if that’s the only reason you think I need you around, you’re wrong.”

“Wanda, I—Nat asked me to look after you because she cares. I care. We all know you’re capable of handling yourself, but she—”

“But she’s worried I’ll lose control, right?” Wanda chuckled humorlessly. “I’m giving you until evening. Find somewhere else to go.”

Your heart sank, and you didn’t bother hiding it. “Wanda, please—”

“Don’t.” She straightened from the wall, her posture rigid, her chin lifted. “I’m going. Don’t be here when I get back.”

—

You did what she asked—at least, you disappeared from her immediate vicinity. It was easy to take her warning seriously; you’d seen Wanda upset before and knew the potential fallout. But leaving didn’t mean you abandoned the idea of watching over her. You just got smarter about it. 

But before you left her room, you made sure to plant something more subtle than your honest intentions. That morning, while Wanda was telling you off, you’d slipped the tracker—a thin, wiry filament not much thicker than a hair—into the inner pocket of her jacket. The one draped over the couch where you’d snored away your idiotic hangover. Insurance, you told yourself. For her safety. That’s what you kept saying in your head, anyway.

You spent most of the day drifting through London like you’d never been here before—because, in some ways, you really hadn’t. You’d only been to this city twice before, and both times it was strictly business, in-and-out missions. So, you did the most stereotypically touristy thing possible: you signed up for a walking tour.

A bright-eyed guide waved a little Union Jack flag like a wand, leading a huddle of strangers through winding streets, pointing out statues and centuries-old plaques. You listened with half an ear, feigning interest in the city’s folklore, the grand architecture, the queen’s guards, all of it. You even snapped some pictures and asked a stranger to take your picture next to a red telephone box. The day was, admittedly, a little perfect—eventful in a good way. Not to mention, it felt safer than just pacing around, waiting for Wanda to make her next move. 

You checked the screen as the walking tour disbanded outside a souvenir shop. The little tracker you’d slipped into Wanda’s jacket the other night showed her location edging into an area of the city you knew only by reputation. You pocketed your phone, excused yourself from the group, and headed in that direction.

—

The closer you got, the less the streets looked like London’s postcard image. Trash littered the sidewalks, and everything looked treacherous at best. But you knew better than to take appearances at face value.

You stuck to the main road until you were a few blocks away, then ducked into an alley to pull out your phone again. Wanda’s blip had settled near an abandoned warehouse, two stories of cracked windows and half-torn posters clinging to the brick.

You hovered near a boarded-up doorway, scanning your surroundings. A pair of men smoking behind a dumpster looked up briefly, but they didn’t seem interested in you. You waited, steadying your breath, making sure no one was following you.

Finally, you spotted movement near the far side of the warehouse. A man in a threadbare coat emerged from the shadows, glancing around nervously. You craned your neck for a better view and spotted Wanda already there, arms folded tightly across her chest.

They exchanged a few words you couldn’t quite catch, no matter how hard you strained to listen. But judging by their expressions, it didn’t look friendly. Wanda’s shoulders were squared, her stance assured rather than defensive. Whatever was going on, she clearly wasn’t afraid. You’ve noticed the man’s hand kept drifting toward his pocket, his movements jerky and uneven, like he was building up to something.

It was suspicious, because you’ve seen this behavior countless times, and it didn’t lead to anything pretty. But you held back, telling yourself—She’s fine. She’s Wanda Maximoff. She can handle herself.

Then it happened, and instinct swallowed logic whole. The man lunged forward slightly, his hand diving into his coat pocket. He’s going for a gun, your brain screamed before you even registered why. You weren’t sure if Wanda had clocked it yet, but you couldn’t risk waiting to find out.

You vaulted over a low stack of crates, crossing the distance in seconds. By the time the man caught sight of you, it was too late—your fist connected with his jaw. He stumbled back, cursing, but reached again for his pocket. You grabbed his arm, twisted it behind his back, and drove him down onto the cracked pavement. A cry tore from his throat as you slammed him against the ground.

“Stop!” Wanda shouted. But her cry fell on deaf ears as you swung your arm again. The dull crack of bone against knuckles reverberated in your ears as the man groaned and flailed weakly against you. 

That’s when you felt it—the force wrapping around your torso, securing you in place like invisible chains. Your arms stiffened, your chest froze mid-breath. You couldn’t move even when you tried to with all your strength.

The man stumbled away from you, gasping and clutching his chest. His face was ghostly pale, his knees buckling slightly. With trembling fingers, he reached into his coat pocket and pulled out—

Not a gun.

An envelope.

Crumpled and fat with cash. He held it up like a white flag, shaking so badly you thought he might drop it. You got it then—she was working. Contracting. Bodyguarding. Or whatever job paid her that kind of money. You couldn’t exactly blame her. Tony had frozen everyone’s bank accounts—everyone on Steve’s side—in a calculated effort to isolate you and force you out of hiding.

It was only a matter of time before your own funds dried up. And when they did, you’d be in the same boat, doing the same kind of work Wanda was doing. You had underground connections if you needed them, a way to scrape together cash, but you’d rather not. You didn’t want that for yourself—and you sure as hell didn’t want it for Wanda.

Wanda took the envelope, her eyes hard as she examined it. “Is this the full amount?” she demanded. The man nodded like a bobblehead, wiping a trail of blood from his split lip.

“Leave. And don’t say a word to your boss about this.”

The man, still clutching his side where your fist had landed, nodded frantically. “I won’t,” he stammered. “I swear, I won’t.”

“Good,” Wanda snapped. She stepped aside, just enough to give him space to scramble away. 

The moment he was gone, Wanda spun to face you, her expression murderous. 

“What the hell was that?” she hissed, nostrils flaring.

You rubbed at your neck, still feeling the phantom grip of her magic, but mostly the embarrassment of having gotten it wrong. “He looked like he was pulling a gun, Wanda. I wasn’t going to stand there and wait to find out.”

She shoved you. Not hard, just enough to sting and to make you realize how fast things could escalate. “You think I can’t take care of myself without you lurking around?”

“I think you’re hurting. And I think you’re making shitty decisions because you feel cornered. I’m just trying to help,” you said. 

“You call tailing me through the city and grabbing my arm help?” Her voice rose. “I told you to leave. To get lost. I don’t need you.”

Together—well, not so much so, because Wanda made it clear she wanted nothing to do with you—you slipped into a back street, walking fast, silent and angry. She led the way, and you followed. You always followed.

You stayed a few paces behind her as she stomped through back streets, her fists clenched, her spine rigid. She never once looked back to see if you were still there. She didn’t have to; she could feel you trailing her, the same way she always seemed to sense every other presence around her.

A cold drizzle fell, prickling your skin as you followed Wanda back to her hotel—even though she’d warned you off for the hundredth time. By the time you reached the hallway, Wanda was fiddling with her key, body tense, shoulders drawn up near her ears.

“Go away,” she said without turning around. She fit the key into the lock with unnecessary force, and the door gave a tired creak when it swung open. She hurried inside and just when you were about to step in, Wanda tried to slam the door in your face, but you shoved your arm through the gap, wedging your shoulder against the splintering wood frame. The hinge groaned in protest.

“Get out,” she snarled. “Don’t make me hurt you. I don’t need Natasha’s living, breathing surveillance on me. You will leave me alone.”

Her voice shook with anger, but her eyes were something else—hurt, or maybe fear of what she might do. You held the door, straining against her strength, feeling the faint trace of her power sparking off her skin. “Wanda, listen to me,” you said through clenched teeth, “I’m not here because of Nat.”

She pushed harder, and you nearly lost your balance, but you refused to budge. “I said,” Wanda growled, “leave me alone. Now.”

“I’m not going anywhere,” you fired back, breath catching in your throat. “Not even if Natasha had never asked me to look after you.”

That gave her pause—just enough for you to force the door fully open. She stumbled backward, eyes blazing with fury. “Then why?”

You hesitated, mouth going dry. You’d pictured this moment, but never with so much hostility, never in a dingy hotel room with the rain pounding against the window outside. Wanda’s chest rose and fell with each shaky breath, her hair a tangle around her face, droplets of water still clinging to her jacket. She looked ready to unleash hell.

And maybe you deserved it.

She opened her mouth again, ready to launch into another tirade, but you don’t let her. This was the moment. If you lied or said the wrong thing, you’d lose her completely—you knew it. 

“Because I regret lying to you,” you said, forcing each word out. “That night… that night when I told you I didn’t like you—”

This was it. “I was only being half-truthful when I said that. I didn’t just like you, Wanda. Because I—”

And she cut you off, just like you’d cut her off in so many fights before. “Because you love me?”

It sounded both like a statement of fact and a challenge. She was testing you to see if you’d deny it again—

“Yes,” you said. It rang loud and true. “Because I love you.”

Then Wanda lunged forward, twisting her hand in your jacket. It could’ve been an attack, but it wasn’t. She grabbed you by the collar and yanked you into the room, letting the door slam behind you. 

“You realize how stupid this is?”

You barely got out a nod before she tugged you again, lips crashing against yours in a desperate, angry kiss. Your mind short-circuited. You tasted her fury, the salt of fear in the corner of your mouths, the hunger neither of you could deny. She shoved you against the door, and your hands found her waist, sliding under her jacket.

“This is insane,” she muttered, lips ghosting against your jaw. “We’re insane.”

“Yeah,” you panted, mouth brushing over her ear. “But right now… I don’t care.”

She didn’t either. Judging by the way she pulled you in, pressed her hips against yours, slid her hands around your neck, she definitely didn’t care. She broke away to breathe, her forehead pressed to yours. “I hate that you followed me,” she murmured. “I hate that I still need you here, after everything.”

You swallowed hard. “You don’t have to need me,” you said. “Just want me.”

[cipheramnesia]

In order to help combat homelessness, we are inducing new hop-walks. These walkways, roads, and randomly selected patches of grass or nature trails will feature a shifting pattern of trap door openings into assorted spike or fire pits, which will reduce unhoused people sleeping on them. They might look random, but watch closely so you can learn the safe jump patterns! To make these disability accessible, there is a "safe mode" which will allow disabled people to watch someone else walking around and shopping, rather than the potential danger of independent mobility. Please note that while tempting it is still illegal to sleep in the spike traps. For public safety, teargas will be randomly deployed in all public spaces at random, as well as in our new intellihome low income housing for anyone with a full time job and multiple clean suits. We hope the new tear gas program will make great improvements. Remember it is illegal to cover your eyes or mouth during the tip top tear times.

[22ayla21]

Nooooo I just read the third child part and🥺 that was so cuteeee and smdjaknaksnsk I was wondering how the chirldren spend time with their mom?

Mom and Kids

How the wives of the men of Amphoreus spend time with their children

She introduces the children to books by telling them stories before bed. Even if the children are already asleep, she continues to whisper the last lines so that their dreams are filled with adventures.

She also teaches them to weave wreaths, embroider patterns in the style of Kremnos, and cook traditional dishes. The eldest son especially carefully watches her hands, trying to imitate every movement.

The middle daughter always wins at hide-and-seek, because she has inherited her father's cunning, and the youngest does not consider it a competition at all, simply choosing a comfortable place where she can quietly read a book.

Although she does not require the children to be warriors, she teaches them to use weapons for self-defense. The eldest son is more inclined to tactics, and the middle one - to combat, which inevitably leads to friendly sparring between them.

She loves to take the children to the shore, where they splash in the waves, build sand castles and decorate them with shells. Mydei sometimes joins in, just to make sure no one gets too carried away.

On quiet evenings by the fireplace, she holds her youngest daughter on her lap while the older children cuddle up to her, sharing their worries. Sometimes Mydei himself joins them at such moments, surrounding the family with the warmth of his strong arms.

She teaches the children that strength does not always solve everything, and it is important to be able to negotiate. This is especially important for the middle daughter, who sometimes forgets that you can’t just “knock out” a problem.

Teaches the children to take care of living creatures, be it a wounded bird or a homeless puppy. Sometimes this leads to Mydei coming home and seeing a new “zoo” under the roof of their house.

Usually, her mornings begin with the children climbing into bed with her, settling down next to her, and Mydei, seeing this, just smirks and collapses next to her, turning everything into a heap of warm hugs.

Every morning she woke the children with soft words and kisses, and then ate breakfast with them, enjoying their chatter. Even if Anaxa sometimes frowned at the noise, she only laughed and said that these were "the sounds of family happiness."

She helped the children with their studies (at least what she understood, leaving the most difficult ones to her husband), but never pressured them. If her daughters were engaged in tactics and strategy, she encouraged them, finding time to explain something with examples from life. And she taught her youngest son that not everything can be solved by the mind - sometimes you just need to be kind.

Every evening she told the children fairy tales, sometimes about her adventures in her youth. The daughters were more interested in stories about bravery and battles, and the son loved stories about friendship and kindness.

Despite Anaxa's strictness, she did not forbid the children to be naughty. They would have impromptu fights, hide-and-seek, and sometimes even try to hide from Anaxa to see how quickly he would find them.

She often took the children for walks, showing them the beauty of Amphoraeus's nature. The daughters tried to analyze everything, like their father, but the son simply enjoyed the moment, and she was glad for that.

Sometimes they cooked together. The daughters learned precision, and the youngest son simply enjoyed the process, licking the spoons. As a result, the kitchen was in disarray, but the atmosphere was warm.

When one of the children was upset, she always found a way to support them. She knew that the daughters appreciated sensible advice, and sometimes a hug from his mother was enough for the son to feel better.

When Anaxa was free, she always found a way to include him in their family moments. Although he sometimes grumbled, even the children knew that their dad was just pretending not to like spending time with them.

She tries to give her children not only physical development, but also intellectual development. She likes to read them books before bed, tell them myths and stories about great warriors, but also teaches them tactics, diplomacy and wisdom.

She often takes them outside the city so that they can feel free and explore the world around them. She can teach them to collect medicinal herbs, navigate by the stars or tell them about the animals that live in their area.

Despite her seriousness, she knows how to be cheerful. She can let the children braid her hair in chaotic pigtails or play hide and seek. Sometimes, if they ask, she even plays along with them in role-playing games, portraying a scary monster or a noble hero.

Although Phainon is mainly involved in this, she does not stand aside. She shows her sons the basics of swordplay, teaches them to remain cool and discipline, but she does it more gently than their father, so that they do not perceive training as a harsh duty.

Unlike Phainon, who expresses love through actions, she gives her children a lot of physical affection. She can hug them, kiss them on the top of the head, lay them down next to her if they have a nightmare. It is important to her that they feel her love not only in words, but also in touch.

She is the first one her sons run to if they have problems or doubts. She knows how to listen to them without judging them, and give advice that helps them find the right solution, and not just tell them what to do.

She carefully preserves the culture of her people and instills it in her children, telling them about her roots, old customs and holidays. Sometimes she cooks dishes from her homeland, sometimes she arranges small rituals that remind her of home.

She sees each child as an individual and never compares them. If one son loves battles, and another prefers tactics or art, she will support them in any choice, knowing that their happiness is the most important thing.

When a long-awaited girl finally appears in the family, she gladly passes on to her the female traditions of her people. Although Phainon dotes on the little girl, her mother remains her first mentor in the world of tenderness and strength.

[brights-place]

【⋆˚࿔ 𝐖𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐢𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠? 𝜗𝜚˚⋆】

Read The full book on my wattpad

[Name] stared at the people below her as she bit her lip as she headed over to the platform of the quartz stage as she took a sharp breath in as she stood in front of a podium. The scene takes place under a dusky, gradient sky that transitions from deep purple at the top to lighter pink hues near the horizon as lightning stroke behind her as she held her hands close to herself as a form of comfort.

Framing the center of the large stage were ornate picture frame liked mirrors floating mid-air. These golden gilded frames are elaborately detailed with swirls and flourishes, housing portraits of [Name] in their outfit. Each portrait is identical showing [Name] standing their on the stage in front of the podium.

The central architectural feature is a large, open book structure, its curved pages forming a bridge-like stage. The book features intricate crest-like symbols and patterns along its spine and cover further enhancing its magical appearance. Flanking the book like stage are delicate arches covered with vines wrapped around the arch way. Silhouettes of figures below in the seats were staring up at the stage.

"I am [Name] Queen... Daughter of the Evil Queen" She looked around before diverting her attention to the side speaking with a solemn voice "And I pledge-" a silence rang out for a moment before she spoke once more "I uhm" A girl with snow white skin and blonde curled hair smiled with a happy expression gesturing the girl to go on "come on! do it" she said cheering the girl as y/n felt her dress to feel more uncomfortable as if the weight of the accessories held her down with the dress is fabrics clung to her skin tighter as if she couldn't breathe.

[Name] glanced over to her other side to headmaster grim a male dressed in a blue coat and light greyish blue vest with a light blue ascot with a golden decoration with a red stone on it. He has a dark grey mustache, green eyes and dark grey hair with lighter stripes. He also wears a golden ring in the shape of a mirror. He's also rather stout, at least in the stomach area, from the side who let out a huff with furrowed rows staring at her.

She stared at a floating key that summoned as she opened her hand letting it drop onto her palm as she stared at it's black and purple swirl as she looked towards the book on the podium. The Storybook of Legends laid there a hardcover book with pages containing the stories and the students taking up the roles of the characters in the fairy tale.

On it's front cover was a shiny mirror-like compartment in the center front cover of the book, along with a keyhole with a magical key required to open the book for signing. The crest of Ever After is embedded on the top, above the mirror. The magical key appears once a student pledges, and the Storybook flips itself to the page of the signer.

She paused as she twisted the key into the book as pages flipped showing her story on how she will be the next evil queen with how her life will end up as each page flipped and turned her shoulders tightened and her grip on her palms turned sweaty nails digging into her skin as she stared at the small signature box that was left on the bottom right corner of each page, for the specific student to sign. Some pages from major fairy tales are displayed by the headmaster's office, taken from the Storybook of Legends. Physically, the book is maroon-colored with golden embellishments on each corner.

[Name]'s eyes widened to see the last page of her homeless and in struggle as her face dropped biting her lip distress on her face as she shakily looked up to the mirror in front of her that showed herself. The ornate's swirling golden frame encloses a vivid and almost ethereal depiction of a character in distress.

[Name]'s appearance hued with magenta and swirls of colors of purple as she was bounded, exudes a sense of urgency and confinement. Appearing shackled with glowing magical chains encircling her wrists and neck.

Her expression is one of shock or fear, with wide pleading eyes and a slightly open mouth that conveys a sense of desperation. Wearing gothic clothing with feathery, jagged edges along with The glowing chains with purple energy that bounded her down as a small gasp came from her lips as her eyes widened as a quill also appears for the stage of signing.

Her e/c eyes diverted around the page gripping onto the podium with a feeling of angst as her eyes stared back to the book and the quill hovering before she reached out and pulling back her eyebrows furrowed as she went back to facing forward as her body loosened up as she spoke "I am [Name] Queen and I'm going to write my own destiny" she exclaimed as the mirrors that were floating shined brighter as they shook slightly as she grabbed the Story book of legends is front cover "My happily ever after starts Now" in a quick motioned her hand slammed the book shut as the bright pink mirror on the front cover glinted for a moment as the mirrors that surrounded the area vibrated before shattering.

Fragments of glass dropped to the floor below and onto the stage as she heaved gasps of shock and cheers were heard from the crowd below. [Name]'s eyes widened before she heaved and relaxed her body feeling lighter as her lips twitched up eyes widening checking her hands "I- I did it I'm still here" she quickly snapped her focused to headmaster Grim "I didn't disappear" headmaster grim eyebrows furrowed with his emerald eyes stared down at her with edge as she glared back harshly.

She couldn't help but flinch for a moment at a voice calling out "How could you be- so- So selfish" A girl with bright blue eyes with skin as pale as snow her lips coated with a red lipstick that was suppose to support her smile yet it was twisted to a harsh frown her curls blonde curls bouncing as her eyes were tearing up. A loud booing was heard from a half of the crowd below as another part was cheering at [Name].

[Name] spoke quickly "I'm sorry apple but I-" she took a sharp breath in yet the noise was too loud for her to think as if they continued to swarm around her making pressure getting added to the back of her throat as if not having the choice to speak out was withholding her back.

[Name] snapped her head to the crowd gripping her fists angrily as she let out a noise of annoyance turning around as she spoke loudly as her hands started to glow a violaceous flame "Hold everything" The purple hued flame shot out of her hands growing in size as it shot down to the crowd and people around her as she froze seeing everything freeze around her, [Name] couldn't help but be stunned staring at her palms and the flames that vanished "I didn't know I could do that..." her e/c eyes filled with sorrow as she looked back over her shoulder to Apple with a look of sadness.

She sighed raising her hands facing forward to apple as the familiar coloured hue of her magic shot to the girl from her finger tips Apple is frozen stature went back to normal as she blinked her sky blue eyes at the h/cnette with various purple highlights "I'm sorry apple" [Name] uttered staring at the girl.

Her eyes diverted to the ground and back up to the girl "but I don't want anyone to tell me who I want to be. I wanna figure that out on my own" [Name] stated hands going to her chest staring at the blonde with eyes filled with determination and honesty "and don't you understand?" she muttered gesturing to the girl in front of her who was staring at her with sadness "I'm not the only one who can choose their own destiny now we all do" she gestured to everybody who was frozen and stared back to the girl hoping she'd understand her view of the situation "even you" she stated.

Apple stared at [Name] with wide eyes before speaking "I don't want to choose a new destiny" Apple rebutted as she teared up more as her eyebrows furrowed "I liked what I had and because of you" she pointed her finger towards [Name] who flinched back slightly her eyes widening "It might not happen" "It might" [Name] suggested hand to her chest as she went to reach her hand to comfort apple but pulled it back as apple sobbed quietly "I don't know... I just don't know" apple walked off as [Name] stared at her retreating figure with sadness before taking a sharp inhale and looking at the crowd her lips slightly lifting up from seeing maddie cheering her on frozen as she undid the spell on her bff.

A noise came from Maddie as she got unfrozen from the crowd before [name] grinned at her petite shorter friend who popped up right beside her "wahh! your here no poof Poof POOF! YAY!" the girl cheered hand sin the air being ecstatic and hyper as always as   [name] laughed "I know! it feels good" she smiled eyes closed as she let out a sigh of relief talking to Maddie.

⏝꒷︶ ͡𑁬♱໒ ͡ ︶꒷⏝

Head master grim stood in front of a window as lightning struck with rain hitting the cold glass as his hands were behind his back eyebrows furrowed "[Name] does not know the forces she has released" he spoke to himself with furrowed brows letting in a sharp inhale as he watched the rain leave it's marks on his window.

"It must be contained before the dangerous idea spreads" he shook his fist before flinching when a laugh came from a mirror to his right side as a woman's malicious laugh echoed the mirror shining and glittering with a white glow slightly with each noise of the laughter head master grim flinching back as lightning struck.

Yet it wasn't only was a Womans laugh a crow like laugh was also heard too on par with a males behind the female laugh. Headmaster Grim's eyebrows furrowed at the voice as he looked back out at the window gulping.

⏝꒷︶ ͡𑁬♱໒ ͡ ︶꒷⏝

๋࣭ ⭑ ❝ 【Time Skip after E.A.H events】❞𝜗𝜚˚⋆

[Name] sighed as she finished the whole ordeal with throne coming, going into wonderland, stopping her mother and reconnecting with her and the events after all that she finally could catch a break to have fresh air after all the destruction, chaos and problems.

The h/cnette was walking up the stairs of the stone tower to visit her mother to have their once a week talks with eachother that she'd give her mother yet when walking up to the top of the attic she paused "Mum?" She called put stepping up the final step boot hitting the wooden floor boards staring towards a part of the room.

A mirror that stood tall and oval-shaped, exuding an air of elegance and mystery. Its frame is a deep rich purple with a highly intricate and ornate design. The frame is adorned with swirling, vine-like patterns that intertwine gracefully, creating a sense of movement and fluidity patterns extended outwards in curling tendrils.

At the very top of the mirror the design culminates in a decorative crest, resembling a crown with two raven feathers around. The legs of the mirror are equally ornate, curving outward and continuing the flowing theme of the frame.

A sigh past her lips a puff of cold air shown as she walked over to it yet something felt off with the mirror her mother would usually be doing something in their last time she came by she was on a cycle but due to the dire weather and raining everything felt a-bit more tense the lightning on the glass didn't help either.

[ Name ] walked over hand placing onto the mirror is curves to check to see her mother who would usually greet her inside the glass yet nothing was there. A sigh past her lips as she stepped back staring at her own appearance.

The mirrors glass itself is smooth and reflective framed beautifully by the vivid patterns that seem to almost cradle it as if it were a precious artifact.

[Name] couldn't help but repeat herself while staring at her mirror "Mum? This isn't really funny" she said hand on her hip before smiling softly yet she couldn't see anything her mother didn't appear, no comments, no pampering and praises not anything.

A look of awkwardness reached her face as she looked around and back "I'll come back later" she muttered as she turned around before feeling a gust of wind hit her from the open window in the tower as she held to cover her face as the sound flames erupted from behind her.

Her head snapped to see her mothers mirror floating and shaking swirling in colours before it changed as [Name] jaw dropped stepping back with wide eyes to see the familiar mirror that was suppose to be in her legend originally her mothers.

The once purple mirror changed to a larger oval frame that was gold that curled around the mirror like tendrils the mirror your mother was trapped in was now changed and was in front of her now floating in the air.

Where your reflection should have been, was instead a large wall of green flames that engulfed half of it as her face paled staring at the Mirror confused how could her mothers mirror prison change into the one her mother had talked to before it was shattered long ago.

"Ahh..."

A deep voice began, coming straight from the mirror. [Name]'s  e/c eyes widened staring at the mirror that continued speaking the flames flickering

"My cherished benefactor."

"A lovely, wicked bloom that doth nobly enthral."

The mirror moved closer to her causing her to scramble back landing on the floor as she panicked but was frozen staring at the mirror that hovered more closer.

"Truly, thou art the fairest one of all." It continued, slowly floating closer still.

The mirror kept coming closer until it stopped a few inches away from [Name]'s face where it proceeded to hover.

"Mirror, mirror on the wall."

[Name] was stuck frozen as it spoke more before pausing in its speech, almost as if it were aware that it wasn't on a wall.

"Who is the fairest one of all"

Noise was blocked in [Name] is ear as her palms shook she despised the familiar phrase that she heard too many times from Apple in their shared dorm one she hated to listen to especially when she accidentally hexed Apples mirror once and it became mean so she had to pretend to be the mirror to compliment the girls ego. This though? This was different

Out of sheer stress the girl summoned purple flames in her hands staring at the Mirror raising her hands as if she was going to shatter the mirror before freezing when she was met with the sound of the mirror speaking again

"Those who art guided by the Dark Mirror."

The green flames flicking and gripping at the glass from the other side slowly began to fade out as it continued.

"Follow the wish of thine heart, and take the hand thou seest reflected in the looking glass."

At that, the flames fully out and her breath caught in her throat as a hand came into view. It looked as if it was reaching out towards her, but it was waiting for someone to take it. There was something all too familiar about the hand as it waited, something that she just couldn't place as she bit her lip the flames in her hand died down.

She stared at the mirror eyes staring at  the glint of a small ring on its finger that caught her attention and it made her bite her lip looking over her shoulder to the stairs she could just go but for some reason the hand was reaching out as if ushering her.

[Name] turned back to the mirror that floated to her still beckoning her forth as she spoke "Mum if this is a prank to get me to let you out I'm going to punch you" [Name] said pausing yet the atmosphere was still tense this was real and she couldn't help but be swayed.

She began to reach out for the hand the one shown in the glass mere centimetres away from you. The words the mirror uttered next feel deaf upon [Name] is ears as her fingertips brushed against the glass pausing before it went through as her eyes widened before shouting in shock when the hand was quick to reach out and grab onto her's, pulling her body through the glass.

The mirror broke with a large shatter and fell to the ground, glass shards scattered all over the ground and curtain the words that were left deaf upon [Name] is ears echoed a warning that was spoken around in the broken glass, never to be heard.

"For I.....And for them.....And for thee.....Little time doth remain. No matter what, take care to never let go of that hand..."

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥𝐁𝐚𝐜𝐤 / 𝐍𝐞𝐱𝐭 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫

[geoviki]

Mo Guan Shan’s Big Feelings

Mo Guan Shan, resident tsundere of 19 Days, pretends to be tough and hard-hearted.  But he’s easily and frequently reduced to tears, as we soon realize.  In fact, he cries so often in the story that this post is pretty massive.

MGS cries as a child, of course.  He’s in a clinic in his mom’s arms when She Li first becomes obsessed with him (ch 294).

MGS has a bad dream about the day his dad told little Guan Shan he couldn’t come to the school’s robot fair (ch 392).

MGS cries in other dreams too.  Soon after meeting He Tian, he has a sensual dream of being comforted in He Tian’s arms after being bullied.  Look closely – there are little tears falling as He Tian assures him he’s the “most invincible badass.” (ch 250)

True to form, he cries in the Santa fantasy extra when his house is destroyed (ch 345).

MGS cries when he’s frustrated, like in this episode after the play when he can’t untie himself to pee (ch 359).

MGS is a weepy drunk as well.  After accidentally destroying Brother Qiu’s bike (ch 427), he drunkenly sobs in bed as he vows to somehow repay him. 

Later, while MGS is still drunk, He Tian slips and falls while carrying him, ripping Mo’s pants in front of He Cheng (ch 429).  MGS cries from embarrassment.

Unsurprisingly, MGS cries over his dad.  After He Tian unknowingly brings him to dinner at what is probably his father’s former restaurant, we see a young MGS in flashback crying in fear at the chaos around him.  Present-day MGS flees and He Tian finds him crying in the parking lot (ch 217)

One of the more moving chapters shows MGS breaking down as he visits his father in prison for the first time (ch 240).

MGS cries from sheer anger in several chapters.  The earliest is when He Tian forces an unwanted kiss on him as a misplayed joke (ch 174-175).  He Tian is taken aback by Mo’s strong, tearful reaction.  It’s probably the first time someone doesn’t try to placate He Tian when he’s being a jerk, and he begins to take MGS more seriously after this.

MGS tries to end his friendship with He Tian after the school play that indirectly causes him to lose his meager job.  He Tian doesn’t help matters by waving money at him as they quarrel.  MGS weeps with anger and says, “Standing with you makes me feel like a failure.”  (ch 364)

He cries in anger once more as he watches incredulously as She Li incinerates his backpack (ch 368).  (She Li seems to walk around carrying gasoline like it’s no big deal – what’s up with that?)

MGS cries when he’s worried.  When he digs frantically through the mudslide during their ill-fated mountain hike, he thinks He Tian has been buried alive.  When He Tian calls out, MGS throws his teary self into He Tian’s arms (ch 329).

MGS’s worry is clear when the last violent fight with She Li is finally over and He Tian has won (ch 408).  The battle was so fierce that by the end He Tian is crying too, and soon they’re embracing (I sense a pattern here!)

MGS often cries when his emotions overwhelm him.  Early on, after MGS is rescued from the fiasco of agreeing to take the blame for a serious crime, He Tian tells him, “Don’t try to shoulder everything yourself.” (ch 188).  MGS tears up at the thought that someone like He Tian has his back.

MGS ends up full-on sobbing in He Tian’s arms (again) when he finally admits why She Li has a hold over him: because of the homeless man who tried to kill him (ch 319).

In one of the most traumatic scenes (and a personal favorite), both guys shed a lot of tears when He Tian finds him after She Li has tortured and burned him (ch 369-370).  These chapters mark a turning point in their relationship from friends to more.

MGS is shown when he’s happy only once, and that memorable event will happen in their future: that Christmas night when He Tian returns and proposes with matching rings (ch 412).  Cue the waterworks!

Thanks to all of the translators who provide the English versions of the story!

[obsessivevoidkitten]

Getting Thrashed

Female Alpha Yandere x Male Omega Reader (CW: Noncon/dubcon, heat cycles, scent kink, pheromones, non-traditional a/b/o dynamics, NO mpreg, enslaved reader, conquered society, general yandere behavior, teasing, biting, claiming, space pirates) Word Count: 3.4k (WOW, sorry that took so long. I started off writing fast because I loved the idea then lost motivation halfway through. Hope you guys enjoy the second female yandere fic I have written and the first one I have written with smut. Also first fic I have written where the reader penetrates the yandere.)

Your day on the space colony of Nithyal started out like any other. You diligently did your assigned work of farming a wide array of essential foods for the colony.

It was pretty vigorous manual labor, but you didn't mind. You rather enjoyed the scent of fresh soil and ripe fruits.

And you were fairly compensated. Everyone was in Nithyal. After all, the colony was on the planet Solstan. And it wasn't called a paradise world for nothing. The weather was agreeable, there were few dangerous animals, and everyone lived harmoniously. No homelessness, no corruption, no hunger, no violence. You were very grateful to live in such a place.

Especially since you were an omega.

Many generations ago, human fertility was greatly diminishing. In a bid to save the species, there were numerous fertility experiments.

One of the most extreme experiments that altered human DNA and psychology the most resulted in two new variants of humans: Alphas and Omegas.

They were both given extreme fertility, but what good is being fertile if you just end up with a barren partner?

So they were both given heightened olfactory senses, with omegas being given genes to produce pheromones that alphas were attracted to and vice versa.

They were also capable of quickly forming intense bonds with their romantic/sexual interests.

But the biggest difference from unaltered humans was that alphas entered ruts and omegas had heats. These periods of ultra high libido were to make sure they were compelled to procreate.

The gene editing was not without unintended consequences.

Alphas tended to be larger, stronger, and more aggressive than normal people, and omegas had a tendency to be smaller and a bit more submissive.

Alphas also tended to be possessive and jealous, even going so far as almost always needing to mark their mate with a permanent bite.

These behavioral concerns lead to the discontinuation of the program. Specifically, concerns about omegas maintaining their agency when faced with such forceful alphas that could easily sniff them out.

Human fertility was restored through more refined gene editing later, with suppressants being developed for the humans already altered and their descendants so they could mask themselves.

Heats and ruts were only partly suppressed, though and it wasn't too hard for someone to discover who was an omega when their life was put on hold in a predictable pattern once every few months.

It wasn't ideal, since most people hated such altered humans.

But Nithyal was different. Everyone just cared about each other and didn't bother with any judgement.

There was no better place in the galaxy.

That was... until the dark day that a pirate fleet came from the deepest reaches of known space to upend everything.

They were called The Eternal Eclipse. And they certainly eclipsed any joy you found in Nithyal.

Your people tried to mount a defense, fighting bravely with the few ships and ground to air weapons that were available, but given their numbers there was no chance of victory.

Your colony was pretty isolated from the rest of civilization so once conquered there was little chance of liberation.

They quickly killed or at least maimed anyone who tried to fight back or organize a rebellion.

The colonists had become little more than slaves.

Many continued the hard labors they had before, with more demand to support the new ruling population, others were forced into personal servitude for the higher up pirates, and a decent chunk of the population became personal fuck toys.

At first, when the pirates had gathered up all of the colonists to assign them their fates, you were mercifully going to continue the work that you had already been doing.

But unfortunately you somehow caught the eye of Thrash and for some reason she had taken a liking to you. So instead of cultivating plants, you were forced to be by her side all day as a simple servant. This probably wouldn’t have been too bad if the violent leader didn’t happen to be, against all odds, an alpha.

You had never met one before but you could tell right away. Her scent, her attitude, the fact that she was larger and stronger than most adult men. She had hair like fire and an energy and attitude to match.

At first you were worried that she had pegged you for an omega, but she gave no indication that she knew. You were in constant fear that your omega nature would be discovered. It wasn't unheard of for omegas to be brutally raped, sold to far off black markets, or even just outright killed. Surely if she had known you wouldn’t just be a personal slave.

It seemed that your suppressants were enough to completely hide yourself from her, and you had a huge supply of them. Though you knew for a fact that once your heat started, your pheromones would poke through. And you’d also be rather horny. Maybe you could feign illness and cover yourself in perfume?

That was probably your best bet. Though you hoped no one would notice that you got ill like clockwork. Luckily you still had plenty of time until your next heat.

Working for Thrash wasn’t too physically demanding, you just had to clean up after her, prepare meals, and do little odd tasks like deliver a note or something to one of her subordinates. You actually got a lot of down time between tasks… though you always had to stay nearby in case Thrash needed something.

The overworked farmers would have surely enjoyed such a relatively cushy work detail, but it was absolute hell for you. It was like walking on eggshells, just waiting for the other shoe to drop.

Thrash hadn’t treated you poorly, never hit you. But you had no idea how an omega would be treated.

It was especially scary when she decided to tease you, just because she enjoyed watching you squirm.

When she licked your neck in the cafeteria in front of all her dining pirate crew she cackled at how your face turned red and you got as still as a statue as your brain shut down. You were terrified that she could smell or even taste the omega on your skin.

Thrash didn’t really know why but something in her made her love flustering you. She just couldn’t help it. She had always enjoyed making men uncomfortable or putting them in their place, but you were a bit different. It wasn’t like it was with her male pirate colleagues, where she strove to be the best and made them obey her. No, this was different, seeing your face turn red made her hungry for more.

One night she dismissed you with a smack on the ass and let you go to bed while she stayed up drinking with her best buddies. You felt humiliated and rushed off to your room, which was one that was in the house she had claimed for herself in case she needed you for something she wanted you close by. You were really like a live-in maid.

You tidied up a few things before washing up and going to bed, still embarrassed about having your butt touched in public. Despite that you managed to go to sleep pretty quickly.

Though a few hours later a very drunk Thrash comes stumbling in drunk. You wake up with a jolt and nearly jump out of your bed as a strong arm wraps around your waste and firmly pulls you close.

“Mmm where ya goin cutie? Ya need to stay close to yer alpha!”

She lightly grinded into you for a moment, her crotch against your ass before stopping and nuzzling into your neck.

“Thr-Thrash… uh… I think you accident-”

She shushed you by licking your neck and nibbling a bit. You went still as stone. If she broke the skin the special enzymes in her alpha saliva would cause you to have a permanent mark. Fortunately that didn’t happen, instead remaining content with sloppy kisses, sucking, and gentle nibbling.

You couldn’t help but let out a series of little whimpering moans at the sensation. You also became aware of just how nice she smelled. So dominant. Kinda… safe…

She chuckled at your noises.

“Haha, you’re practically a tiny defenseless omega!”

That made you shake the thoughts and distractions from your mind. This woman was not safe. She stole your home and turned you into a glorified slave. If she knew what you were she’d sell you to the highest bidder!

Luckily after that comment she had passed out in a drunken stupor.

You managed to extricate yourself from her grasp before scrambling to get to the restroom. You had to double check to make sure that the bites that Thrash had so kindly applied to your neck had not broken the skin, luckily they hadn’t.

But you still looked absolutely horrible. Your neck was covered in little hickeys, your hair was a mess, and you were so shaky from the rude awakening that you could barely stand.

Something about looking so debauched made your cock hard. Maybe it was because you had her alpha stink all over you or maybe it was something to do with the bites all over your neck. Maybe it was just because you weren’t used to the attention.

It didn’t matter why the result was the same, you had to do something about this almost painful arousal. And the scent that clung to you.

As you got in the shower you gave your cock the attention it was demanding, thinking filthy and shameful thoughts about Thrash. You tried to pleasure yourself to other thoughts but your mind kept drifting back to the oppressor of your people and the way she smelled as she bit and drooled all over your neck.

You couldn’t spill until you imagined her leaving a permanent claiming bite on your neck.

After your shower you felt dirtier than you had before you got in. You reminded yourself that you hated Thrash and that she and her crew had done to upend the lives of you and your people. It wasn’t your fault she made you aroused. What omega wouldn’t have been after that?

After you got dressed and left the bathroom you wrapped your spare blanket around you and slept in the chair in the corner of the room, you would have rather not been in the same room as the drunk alpha, but you had nowhere else you could go.

When Thrash woke up she found you sleeping soundly in the room and it took her a moment to realize she wasn’t in her room. She must have kicked you out of your bed. She did feel kinda bad about it, but she figured you would live. She was the one with the massive headache.

She went back to her quarters, leaving you to sleep a bit longer.

When you woke up you found her, thankfully gone, you wrapped a scarf around yourself to hide your neck, the weather was cool lately so no one should give a second thought to you wearing one. Then you left to start your day of servitude as you did everyday.

Unfortunately for you, you had to accompany her as she went on one of the landed ships to see what the problem was with it since she had originally been a mechanic and engineer. It was very hot in the engine room.

“How are you wearing that scarf? It’s so hot in here.” The heat wasn’t the only problem you were dealing with, she was sweating and only wearing a tank top, allowing her musk to practically smother you.

It didn’t really take all that long for you to get more than a bit dizzy and flustered. And once you were, it took even less time for Thrash to notice, she often kept an overprotective eye on you, though you had rarely noticed.

She came stomping over and looked down at you.

“I told you it was too hot for that! You’re gonna get sick dumbass! Take it off and let’s go outside for some fresh air.”

You fidgeted under her gaze and mumbled that you were okay.

When you didn’t take it off immediately she growled, jerked you over to her, and yanked it off of you.

She stared wide-eyed at your neck, not remembering having put the marks there herself the night before. And she was fucking livid.

“When the fuck did you hook up with someone, you fucking slut!? You belong to ME and I didn’t give you any permission for that shit!”

The enraged alpha slapped you hard across the cheek, making you yelp and stumble to the ground. You were sobbing and could scarcely manage to croak any words out.

“I-i d-d-didn’t l-let anyone d-do-”

Had one of her men defiled you against your will? Defiled HER slave?

“Tell me who did it!! I’ll cut their dick off and shove it up their own ass!”

Her eyes were like a cats, narrow slits. Your naturally submissive instincts told you to put your head down and obey anything the near feral alpha might demand of you.

“Y-you were dr-dr-drunk and b-bit me last night…”

Tears were leaking down your face. If you had not been on suppressants your scent would surely be one of fear mixed with pheromones to calm down this beast.

That’s right, she had woken up with a bad hangover in your room...

Thrash stared at you, at this tiny crying man in front of her, crying and terrified. She felt awful, and she didn’t often feel bad about her actions. She was a pirate, but for some reason she just didn’t like seeing you suffer at all. Certainly not because of her.

“Fuck… I’m… sorry…” She managed to say as she knelt down and rubbed your back.

“I really have no memory of last night...”

The large powerful woman picked you up easily, with your head nuzzled into her neck, crying into her.

“C’mon crybaby, let’s get you cooled off, I’ll deal with this engine later~”

She carried you carefully back to your room in the housing building, collecting odd looks as she did, which she quickly got rid of with a glare each time.

Thrash placed you into your bed and felt your head with the back of her hand. Despite not having the scarf, having been exposed to the cool outside air on the way over here, and now being in an air conditioned room you were hotter than ever.

Your mind was getting foggier and when she left to go get a cool rag and some medicine from the bathroom you finally realized why you were so hot. You were entering heat. The neck stimulation and all of Thrash’s dominant behavior over you must have somehow triggered an early one.

You had to leave before she came back and smelled it. It would only be a matter of moments before the smell broke through your suppressants.

Something in your brain was telling you to just stay there and let your alpha come back and take care of you, but the other much more grounded in reality part of your brain was telling you you had to hide in a utility closet somewhere and deal with the consequences of your absenteeism later. Better than being sold off or raped by every pirate who wants to try out an omega.

Right then you really wished suppressants just completely eliminated heats completely instead of just diluting them a bit.

Right after you had that thought Thrash entered the room and saw you standing by the door, you saw her hand had a bottle of pills. Though her search in your medicine cabinet yielded no fever reducers she found something else hidden away under your sink. Your suppressants.

And then your scent hit her. It was dulled by your medication, but she was an alpha unused to omega pheromones in any capacity.

She growled low and her pupils were like slits as her stare bored into you angrily.

“You’re MY property! And you’re keeping secrets from ME!?”

Before you could stumble out the door she charged at you, picked you up and slammed you down on the bed a bit harder than she had intended. You looked away, unable to meet her domineering and angry gaze. Your only response was to instinctively whimper in submission to placate her rage.

Thrash sniffed you, inhaling your scent from your underarm to your neck. You leaned your head over to give her easier access and show that you submitted to her will. You were terrified and she could certainly smell it.

Some of her drool dripped onto your neck as she hovered above it, licking you tentatively to calm you down. She was going to bite you and make you into her personal fuck toy and mate, she was mad that you had hidden your nature from her, but she would never hurt you.

Thrash sucked and nibbled at the gland in your neck, with you gracing her ears with a new whimpering gasp or moan each time she touched the sensitive spot.

Your terror evaporated quickly, replaced by heat fueled desire. And if you were honest with yourself maybe not all of the yearning was born from your heat.

The lust filled alpha couldn’t help but inhale your scent over and over, it was literally a drug for her. She had already wanted to fuck you into oblivion even before she got a whiff of you in heat, but now there was no stopping herself. Already she couldn’t wait to drink in your smell during your next heat when your suppressants were out of your system.

She made a mental note to flush them after this.

The pirate rubbed your crotch, palming at your erection, getting you even more aroused before she bit your neck. Hard. Her fangs pumping into you something that would make you smell claimed to any other alphas and leaving a large permanent hickey on that portion of your neck.

You moaned out loud in painful pleasure, arching your back and thrusting your clothed arousal into her hand.

Thrash licked your bleeding wound and then turned her attention to your cock and her own pleasure.

You could only stare and writhe in need as she pulled away from you and took off her clothes.

“Gimme a second, I just need to get our clothes off!”

It was the first time you had seen her breasts. You were in awe of this figure above you. So strong and assertive. So beautiful. A perfect partner.

To her you were the beautiful one. So sweet and pretty and perfect put in your place below her.

She practically ripped your clothing off and buried herself back in your neck as she brought herself down on you, enveloping your entire length in the warmth of her cunt. Her hands pushed down your shoulders as she rode you.

Your pleasured moans mixed with her grunts and growls as she fucked you until you saw stars. Your first orgasm was really quick, and was not nearly enough for either of you. Another perk of heats, insatiable libido.

With each of her downward movements you thrust upwards, desperate to get as deep as possible, the scent of her aroused pheromones combined with your heat making you absolutely unable to care about anything else.

You didn’t care that she had conquered your people or that she controlled them. In this state it only made her stronger in your eyes. A more suitable mate. You wanted to fill her up with so many babies.

The sex lasted hours, until the both of you were too sore to keep moving. It finally ended with you clinging to her and using her tits as a pillow with her arm wrapped around your protectively.

When the fog of pheromones and heat left your brain you were horrified by what had happened. But if you weren’t owned by her before, the new mark on your neck meant you certainly were now, and she would never let you go.

[bigfan-fanfic]

Bats in the Web (Spider-Man!Batdad x Batfam)

What if batfam meets a version of Batdad who is Spider-Man in his universe??

"We can't interfere!" Bruce growls. "I know you want to help, but after the last world we jumped into, we can't take chances."

Dick sighs. The last world they went into, they nearly ruined everything because Gotham had no Batman yet.

But luckily, something descends upon the mugging in progress.

But it isn't Batman.

A strange silver cable zips into view and slams into the assailant's back, spreading in a strange geometric pattern. He stumbles forward at the force of the blow, before the cable springs taut, and the mugger is flung into the air.

Someone lithe and graceful sails through the air, trailing more silver cables and quickly wraps the stranger up in them, robotic arms emerging from their back to assist - almost like a four-armed... spider.

The mugger dangles upside down from a traffic light, completely mummified in silver, and the figure, in a black bodysuit with light-catching silver filaments in a web pattern shining along the whole thing, and what appears to be a yellow hood and short jacket, crouches atop it.

"You get home safe, you hear?" they call. "We'll just be... hangin' around."

The would-be victim grins up at them. "Thanks, Spidey!"

But the Bats are looking shocked.

Because that was clearly your voice, only slightly altered by a voice changer - the voice you use when you broadcast to negotiate with people while they're on patrol.

Before they can speak, though, you've flung yourself through the air, opening your arms to reveal the gliding wings attached from your sides to the arms of your jacket so you can sail through the air.

"Pops is... Spider-Man?" Dick yelps.

From what they can surmise, in this universe, Bruce still lost his parents at a young age, but he didn't develop the desire to become Batman.

Instead, while on a field trip, you were exposed to some kind of radioactive spider, and Bruce did what he could to keep your secret and develop his technological aptitude to help you.

It was Alfred's death that convinced you to become a hero - his last words to you being that with great power came great responsibility.

You and Bruce are still very young in this world, barely old enough to have adopted a young Dick Grayson. It's probable that Damian won't be born, and Tim won't be adopted by you.

You're so much more cheerful than Batman - Gotham's Spider-Man quips, sometimes with dark humor, and inspires her citizens to fight back against the oppressive darkness of their city with good humor and clever tactics.

The Bats make their way to Wayne Manor, only to find the harsh brickwork and traditional architecture has made way for modern-quality of life improvements, fiber optic light fixtures, glass bay windows, and high tech at every turn. It barely resembles their Wayne Manor.

In fact, the caverns beneath the estate aren't even utilized, with there instead being a high-tech laboratory on the grounds with a launchpad to fling you over the bay and into the city.

It's a shock to see them - Bruce Wayne, his body in shape but much softer: he obviously works out hard but he's clearly not a fighter. His movements are relaxed, even sluggish compared to the constant vigilance of the Bat. And he wears an unfamiliar expression on his face - a genuine lazy grin.

Meanwhile there's this world's you - lithe and strong, battle-worn and with the at-rest tension of a vigilante.

Alt-Bruce and you have an easy banter, a love very much like two young people - you're only a little older than Dick, after all, which he finds weird - especially when he and Tim babysit his younger version.

Jason is utterly touched when Alt-Bruce asks about all the kids, so he can make sure to adopt them - he wouldn't want them going homeless in this world. All Jason knows is that young Jason Todd in this world might just be saved from years of trauma.

You're still the strategist, but Bruce is your mission control and the gear/science guy - he helps with upgrades and is the one to suggest a way to get the Bats back to their world.

But you'll need their help.

You fly through the city that night accompanied by five gliding shadows. Shadows that brutally subdue the henchmen of Black Mask as you soar above their heads, connecting some power towers with a filament web, forming a major circuit Alt-Bruce can use to power a tachyonic collider, which should launch them back into their world.

They return to their world, but Jason pulls Bruce aside.

"B... you owe him."

"Owe him what? Who, Jaybird?"

Jason sighs. "Pops. You owe him a chance to see that smile. On you."

Bruce looks at him. "You think my face can still do that?"

"Hey, I was surprised that you were actually funny! But... yeah, I do."

"Maybe you're right. Maybe you're right..."

[thearcaneuniversity]

The parallel in the first episode - homeless people choosing between the lottery or a piece of bread and the players choosing to play one more game - still drives me crazy.

At first glance, it looks like greed. But the context is everything. It’s impossible to ignore how much circumstances shape these decisions.

What does a piece of bread mean to a homeless person? It’s not life-changing. It won’t significantly improve their circumstances the way winning the lottery might. Choosing the lottery is a gamble, sure - but don’t we all take risks, hoping for something better? The difference is that most of us aren’t judged for wanting to change our lives or trying our luck.

The same pattern plays out with the players. And they even say it out loud: what good are small amounts of money when their lives are still unbearable, still on the brink of collapse? If the end result is the same, why not take one more chance and play?