#and that was my beautiful thought process ^_^

[blueberrybirdsworld]

Hi, I love your writing, anyway I have a request: could you maybe write something like reader is the passenger princess and like even though she has a drivers lincense (or not) he won’t let her drive or give up her seat as passenger princess, or just being overly overprotective, of course only if your comfortable and want to write this. You choose what driver. No pressure to write it it’s just a thought.

Thanks xoxo

-🐨

Passenger princess

Author note : thank you so much for your request, I twist the story a little bit because apparently I can't write a story without a little bit of drama... but hope you still like it :)

Summary : She has a license. She knows how to drive. But Lando has made it very clear: as long as he’s around, she’s not touching the wheel because he refuses to let the girl he loves be anything other than his passenger princess. He likes taking care of her, driving her everywhere, holding her hand at stoplights and making sure she never has to worry about a thing.

But when she asks for the keys one day, everything shifts.

Pairing : Lando Norris x reader

Genre : fluff, oneshot, request, slight angst

Lando had one single rule :You. Do. Not. Drive. 

Not when he’s around. 

You could have a Formula 1 Super Licence and it wouldn’t change anything. Lando Norris has made it his personal mission that his girl does not lift a finger, especially not to reach for a steering wheel. 

You still remember when he declared it officially. 

You were six weeks into dating, sitting in his car after a dinner date in Monaco. You pulled out your keys and offered to drive back because he’d had two glasses of wine. He just looked at you with the slowest blink of disbelief. 

“Absolutely not, you’re not driving.” 

“And you can?” 

“Well I’m Lando Norris.” 

“That doesn’t make you immortal.” 

“Maybe but it makes me your designated driver. Forever. Passenger princess duties are now legally binding. Sorry.” 

He meant every word. 

From then on, he opened every car door for you, insisted on picking you up and dropping you off even if it was wildly inconvenient, and responded to your attempts to drive with various tactics, including distraction kisses, key theft, or physically lifting you out of the driver’s seat like a cheeky menace. 

You eventually gave in. 

Not because you couldn’t drive, you actually were a good driver but because there was something stupidly endearing about the way he’d reach for your hand across the center console, or check your seatbelt like a paranoid dad, or mutter under his breath about how “princesses don’t worry about traffic.” 

But there comes a day. A very specific day where you needed his car.

“Can I take the McLaren to Nice?”  The words leave your mouth casually.

Lando is in the kitchen, hair damp from a shower, dressed in a McLaren hoodie and shorts, spoon halfway to his mouth with a bowl of yogurt and granola. He freezes. 

You can literally hear the information processing in his head. 

“Sorry?” he says slowly, as if you’d just asked if you could drive his F1 car to the grocery store. 

You tilt your head, resting against the doorframe. “I have that appointment in Nice this afternoon. It’s a beautiful drive. I don’t want to take a taxi.” 

“So I’ll take you,” he says instantly, standing straight. 

“You can’t,” you remind him, amused. “You have a team briefing remember.” 

“I’ll skip it.” 

“You won’t.” 

He narrows his eyes. “You want to drive the McLaren? Wich one ?” 

“I don't care I just want to drive a nice car,” you say, playful but firm. “But preferably the 720S. It’s got that nice citrus interior and the top-down roof feels very main character energy.” 

“You are the main character,” he says without blinking. “But you can’t drive her.” 

“Her?” 

He winces. “The car.” 

“Oh my god, you called your car 'her'?” 

“No. I just… she’s delicate.” 

You cross your arms, biting your lip. “Delicate? Are we still talking about the car or me?” 

He sets his spoon down slowly. “Do you even know how to drive that car, you've never driven it before.” 

“Because someone has control issues and God complex.” 

Lando raises a hand, jaw clenching. “She has 710 horsepower. Twin-turbo V8. You so much as sneeze wrong, and she’ll take off the road.” 

“Exactly,” you grin. “Sounds fun.” 

He stares at you, horrified. “Baby.” 

You step closer, dropping your voice into something sweet and slightly dangerous. “Lando. I love you. I respect you. But you know I'm actually capable of driving right ? Just trust me. ” 

He opens his mouth. Closes it. 

You know that look. It’s the same one he gets when he’s arguing with his engineer but knows he’s wrong. He tries to rally. 

“You could take the Audi instead.” 

“No.” 

“The Fiat Jolly?” 

“God no, it will make me look like an idiot.” 

You soften, step closer, brushing your fingers through his curls. 

“Please, baby? Just for today. One little drive. I’ll bring her back with not a scratch. I’ll even fill the tank.” 

He groans like it physically pains him. 

“I have to go,” he mumbles, already backing toward the hallway. “The meeting start in 10. I don’t have time to talk you out of this insanity.” 

“So it’s a yes?” you say brightly. 

He groans again, louder this time and disappears down the hall. But not before you hear him yell over his shoulder: 

“If there’s a single scratch, we’re breaking up!” 

Not so long after, you’re standing in the garage, keys in hand. 

The car looks like something out of a dream, sleek, silver with blood-orange leather and enough power to make the air around it hum. You slide in, adjust the seat, and you’re smiling like a lunatic. 

From the garage door, you hear a thud. 

Lando is standing there with the most worry expression on his face. 

“I have to admit, you actually look hot in that car,” he mumbles, pained. 

You blow him a kiss. “See, driving look good on me too!” 

He sighs, walking over slowly.

“I left you a route,” he says. “No tunnels. No mountain roads. No overtaking anyone. Please just go to the speed limit.” 

He watches you like he’s not sure if he wants to cry, laugh, or beg you to switch seats. 

“I love you,” you say softly. 

He exhales. “Love you too. But please be carefull.” 

“I won’t. I’ll drive her like she’s made of glass.” 

“She’s made of carbon fiber, but thanks.” 

You laugh and start the engine. 

The car roars to life. 

Lando flinches. 

And then you’re gone. 

The Côte d’Azur has always looked like a painting, seafoam catching light like glass, mountains folding into the horizon, the road ahead carving through it all like a silver ribbon. The sky is impossibly blue. The kind of day where it feels like nothing can go wrong. 

You were almost in Nice. 

The road had opened up, smooth and gently curving, an occasional coastal breeze slipping through the open cabin of the car. You had the roof down, sunglasses on, one hand lightly resting on the wheel. 

You can't belive he trusted you. He gave you the keys. 

And for a long stretch of road, you felt something close to joy. Real, effortless joy. 

Until the corner. 

A left-hander. Nothing dramatic. Just one of a thousand bends like it, except this one comes a fraction tighter, your line slightly too wide, your rear wheels clipping the gravel at the edge of the asphalt. The car responds with the fury of something alive. 

You feel it. 

That split-second shift, grip lost, control slipping. Then an impact. 

You never even have time to scream. 

The sound is what stays with you first.  A tearing. A shattering sound. 

The howl of carbon fiber being ripped apart, metal crumpling like paper, and glass exploding as your side window bursts inward. The car spins once, maybe twice and then crashes nose-first into the side of the mountain wall with a force that throws your body against the seatbelt so hard your lungs collapse on the first breath. 

Then, silence. 

Not true silence more like the absence of motion. The engine is dead. Smoke coils faintly from the front. Your ears ring. Blood is sliding down your forehead and into your left eyebrow, warm and disorienting. 

You don't move. Can’t. 

You blink slowly, registering only fragments: The bent steering column. The shattered passenger-side window. The trembling in your own fingers. The sky above, warped and off-center. 

Then pain. Dull, but growing. A deep ache in your ribs. Scratches on your arm. A tightness in your chest you can’t immediately place. 

You bring one shaking hand to your head and feel blood. It’s not gushing, but there’s enough to paint your fingertips. Your breath catches. Your vision swims. 

But that’s not what breaks you. 

What breaks you is the sudden, sickening realization: you crashed his car. 

The McLaren. His McLaren. 

You crashed it. Ruined it. 

Your throat tightens. The pain behind your ribs isn’t just bruising anymore, it’s anxiety blooming like rot. 

What is he going to say? 

The car, his car, is wrecked. The front end is completely folded in, the hood smashed in on itself, like a fallen lung. The windshield is webbed with cracks, already splintering inward. Bits of the headlight are scattered across the asphalt like broken teeth. 

You try to sit up straighter but your body disagrees. Your seatbelt is locked so tight you can barely breathe. 

You don’t even know if you’re crying, everything is wet: your eyes, your face, your brow. You can taste blood on your lip, iron and salt, and it makes you feel nauseous. 

You fumble for your phone. 

Your hand shakes so badly you nearly drop it. 

You consider not calling him. Maybe call an ambulance. Maybe disappear off the side of the earth before he finds out. Maybe vanish into the sea. 

But then you see his name in your recent calls and your thumb moves on instinct. 

It rings once. Twice. 

He picks up on the third. 

“Hey, everything good?” His voice is casual, smiling. Unaware. “You make it there already...” 

“I crashed,” you whisper. Your voice sounds strange. Far away. 

“What?” 

You inhale, shakily. “I lost it. On a corner. I’m, I’m okay. I think. But the car, it’s...” 

There’s rustling on his end. The sudden sharpness in his voice makes your stomach twist. 

“Where are you?” 

You give him your approximate location, your voice barely audible. He doesn't say anything else, just hangs up. 

You sit there, barely moving.

Then omeone stops, a couple in a rental car, asking if you need help. You nod, numbly, and they call emergency services even though you told them it's not needed. They stay nearby, give you water, tell you not to move too much. 

But nothing reaches you. Not really. 

All you can think is: He’s going to hate me. 

And that thought alone cuts deeper than anything else. 

Lando’s POV

Her voice was small. 

Too small. 

It came through the phone distorted, thin and trembling, soaked in panic, but Lando had heard enough of her to know: this wasn’t nerves. This was fear. Real, shaking, breathless fear. 

“I crashed.” 

Two words. Quiet. Flat. But in the center of them was something that lit his entire nervous system on fire. 

His engineer shouted something after him while he exit the meeeting. Zak called his name. Someone mentioned media waiting downstairs, some nonsense about schedule, structure, protocol but it didn’t register. Nothing did. 

Lando ran. 

Straight out of the building, down through the tunnel under the Monaco paddock, into the garage where his car was parked. He slammed the door behind him, yanked the gearshift like it had personally offended him, and peeled out onto the street with a screech that echoed between the buildings. 

His hands shook. 

Because he was scared. 

Not for the car. 

Not for the damage. 

Not for insurance or press or the reputation of a McLaren driver’s girlfriend crashing a hypercar on the Riviera. 

No, he was scared for her. 

Because he knew her. Knew her well enough to understand that if she said “I think I’m okay,” it meant she was covering up how bad it really was. That her first instinct wasn’t to cry or scream, it was to call him to tell the car was ruined.

The coastal road stretched long and sharp before him, curves blurring past as he pushed the car harder than it was ever meant to go. He barely registered the scenery.

His GPS pinged her location from her phone. 

It took twenty-seven minutes to reach her. 

Twenty-seven minutes of clenching the wheel so tight his knuckles ached, replaying the sound of her voice over and over in his head, trying not to imagine the worst. 

He rounded a long bend near the mountain wall, and then he saw it. 

The McLaren was facing the wrong direction, its nose crumpled violently into the rock face. The front end was mangled. Glass littered the pavement. The left wheel was completely detached, folded under like a snapped ankle. 

And there she was. 

Leaning against a rock barrier a few feet from the wreck. Blood smeared across her temple, hair matted, arms wrapped tight around herself like she was trying to physically hold her body together. There was a couple beside her, clearly the ones who’d stopped, standing nearby but giving her space. 

She wasn’t looking at the car. Or the view. Or anything, really. 

She was staring down at her hands. 

And she was crying. 

Lando didn’t remember getting out of the car. 

One minute he was behind the wheel. The next, he was running. 

“Hey, hey!” he called, breath already catching in his throat. 

Her head snapped up. And when she saw him, something in her face cracked wide open: relief, shame, fear, all of it tangled together. 

He didn’t stop to process it. He just dropped to his knees in front of her and grabbed her face gently, cupping it like it was something fragile. 

“Where does it hurt?” he asked instantly. His voice was already hoarse. “Talk to me. Right now.” 

“I’m okay,” she whispered, barely audible. 

“No, don’t do that. Don’t say that. Are you dizzy? Can you breathe? Did you hit your head?” 

She flinched slightly when his hand brushed her temple. That’s when he saw the cut, shallow, but bleeding more than it should, streaking down into her brow. 

His stomach clenched. 

He turned to the couple who’d stayed with her. 

“Did anyone call emergency?” 

“Yes,” the woman nodded. “They’re on their way. She didn’t want to move much.” 

“Good. Thank you. Seriously.” 

Then he turned back to her. 

“You’re gonna be alright, okay?” he murmured, brushing a strand of hair away from her face, ignoring the blood on his hands. “They’re coming. You’ll be looked at properly. It’s just a few cuts. You’re here. That’s what matters.” 

But she was still shaking. Her lip trembled. Her eyes weren’t on him. 

They were fixed on the car behind him. 

“I’m sorry,” she said, and it shattered him. 

“What?” he frowned. 

“I’m sorry,” she repeated, more desperately this time. “I didn’t mean to, I just, the corner came too fast, I didn’t expect the back wheels to kick and...God, I didn’t mean to...I tried to correct, I swear...” 

“Stop, hey!” He moved closer, hands gripping her shoulders now, gentle but firm. “Stop. Look at me.” 

Her eyes met his, swimming in guilt. 

“Are you apologizing for crashing the car?” he asked slowly. 

She blinked once. 

Then nodded. 

Lando let out a breath, long, pained, and almost disbelieving. 

“Sweetheart,” he said, his voice so quiet it nearly broke, “I couldn’t give less of a fuck about the car.” 

She froze. 

“I love that car, yeah,” he went on, cupping her cheek again. “But it's just carbon and wires and leather. And you’re you. My girl. My everything.” 

Her bottom lip trembled. 

“I’d burn ten of those cars if it meant keeping you out of pain for five more seconds,” he said. “There is nothing that matters to me more than you walking away.” 

Her tears spilled freely now, silent but relentless. He didn’t stop them. 

“Baby, you’re safe,” he whispered. “You’re here. That’s all I care about.” 

She leaned forward without warning, pressing her forehead to his chest. And Lando held her instantly, wrapping his arms around her as if trying to shield her from the world itself. 

“I thought you’d hate me,” she choked out. “I thought you’d be furious.” 

“Never.” 

“I ruined it.” 

“You didn’t ruin anything.” 

He pressed a kiss into her hair. 

“You scared me,” he admitted quietly. “But not because of the car. Because the idea of losing you… I can’t even...” 

His voice cracked. He stopped. Swallowed hard. 

“I was so fucking scared,” he said into her shoulder. 

They sat like that until the medical team arrived, Lando never once letting go. 

Not even when they tried to clean the blood from her face. 

Not when they insisted on taking her vitals. 

He stayed close, his hand gripping hers the whole time, his eyes locked on her like she might disappear if he blinked. 

And even after the car was hauled off the mountain road, even after the sirens faded and the adrenaline left his system in a crash of its own, Lando couldn’t forget the image of her, sitting alone, bleeding and crying, staring down at her hands like she’d just destroyed everything that mattered. 

And how wrong she was. 

Because the only thing that mattered to him in that entire moment… was her heartbeat still ticking beneath his fingers. 

The hospital released her just past sunset. 

A mild concussion, a bruised rib from the seatbelt, a handful of superficial cuts and a bottle of prescription-strength painkillers she wasn’t thrilled about. They’d patched her up, poked and prodded, asked the same questions a dozen different ways but eventually, they’d deemed her fit to leave. Stable. Out of danger. 

Still, Lando hadn’t stopped hovering for a second. 

Not in the exam room. 

Not while the doctor spoke. 

Not in the hallway while she signed discharge papers. 

He walked two steps behind her with a hand lightly resting on her lower back like he thought she might shatter if he let go. And she didn’t complain, not once, because his touch anchored her. Grounded her. Reminded her that even if her body was still sore, her heart was in one piece. 

Outside, Monaco was quieter than usual, the sea dark and reflective beyond the hills. His car waited just outside the private entrance, doors already unlocked. Lando opened the passenger side without a word and crouched down like he had a hundred times before. 

But this time, when he looked at her, it wasn’t teasing. 

“Can you sit okay?” he asked softly. 

She nodded. “Yeah. Just a little stiff.” 

He didn’t move. Just watched her, as if trying to read something she hadn’t said yet. 

“You sure?” 

She smiled faintly. “You ask me that again and I’m going to start charging you per reassurance.” 

That earned her the smallest, quietest curve of his lips, the first real smile of the night. 

He helped her in, buckled her seatbelt for her even though she could do it herself, then pressed a light kiss to her shoulder before closing the door gently. 

He circled the hood, climbed in on the other side, and started the engine. 

Silence stretched for a few moments. Not heavy, not awkward, just full of thoughts neither of them quite knew how to unpack yet. The radio was off. The windows fogged slightly at the edges. 

Finally, she looked over at him. 

“You haven’t said anything smug about being right.” 

He blinked. “What?” 

“About me driving. About how I shouldn’t have.” 

A beat passed. 

Then he shook his head, eyes still on the road. “That’s not what I’m thinking.” 

“No?” 

He let out a breath. Slow. Careful. 

“I’m thinking how grateful I am that you’re sitting next to me right now. That’s it.” 

Her throat tightened. 

Lando glanced over briefly, then back at the road again. 

“You know,” he said, softer now, “I’ve been thinking about it. Why I never let you drive.” 

She smiled weakly. “Because you have control issues?” 

He huffed. “Fair. But no. Not really.” 

She watched him, his grip on the wheel, the gentle twitch in his jaw, the way he blinked more than usual like he was thinking too hard. 

“It’s not that I don’t think you can drive,” he said. “You’re smart. You’re capable. You’ve always been independent. That’s part of why I fell in love with you.” 

She stared at him, warmth stirring in her chest even now, even after the worst day. 

“It’s just…” He hesitated. Then laughed once, softly. “When I drive, and you’re next to me, I know you’re okay. I know where you are. I know you’re not out there in the world where something can go wrong.” 

“Like crashing a car into a mountain wall?” 

“Exactly like that.” 

He smiled, but there was something behind it, vulnerability. The raw kind he only ever let her see when the world had quieted down enough to make space for it. 

“It’s not about control,” he said. “It’s about care. I like driving you. I like knowing you’re safe. I like you beside me, legs tucked up, stealing my hoodie, humming to the music while I make sure you get where you’re going.” 

She swallowed. 

“I like you as my passenger princess,” he finished, glancing at her again. “Not because you can’t drive but because it’s the one time I get to take care of you without you arguing.” 

She let out a breath that caught somewhere in her chest. 

And then, slowly, she reached over and laced her fingers through his. 

He took her hand easily, like it was second nature, thumb brushing over her knuckles like he always did. 

“I thought you’d be mad about the car,” she admitted, voice soft. 

“I will never be mad” he said. “I don't care. Not one bit. It’s just a car. I can buy another one.” 

He looked over again, eyes steady and full of the kind of love that didn’t waver in the face of fear. 

“But I can’t replace you.” 

The rest of the drive was quiet. 

Comfortable. Peaceful. 

Lando took the turns slowly, one hand still in hers, his focus sharper than ever. When they pulled up to the house, he killed the engine and didn’t move for a moment , just sat there, the engine ticking as it cooled. 

Then he turned toward her fully. 

“You’re home,” he said gently. “Safe.” 

She smiled, tired but warm. “Thanks to you.” 

He leaned over and kissed her, softly, not rushed, not panicked, not full of adrenaline like earlier, just slow, and sure, and safe. 

She sighed against his lips. Let herself be held. 

And in that moment, she understood. 

It had never been about the car. Or control. Or rules. 

It was always about love. 

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[angelsafa]

HELLO, THIS IS A SUCCESS STORY!!!

Right now, as I’m writing these words, I am crying tears of happiness. My biggest dream was to come back to Tumblr one day with a success story. I first learned about Void State in 2022 from an Instagram manifest blog called @/moncherry (whose account is now closed). Since that day, I became obsessed with it. (If there are people obsessed with Void State and as a result delaying their lives and sinking deeper, don’t feel alone because I was exactly like that.) From 2022 until June 14th, if you ask me how many times I truly tried Void State, the count probably wouldn’t exceed the fingers on two hands. “I’ll try tomorrow,” and “I just turned over and fell asleep” were my habits. But I realized that I was constantly postponing my life this way and decided to take the reins of my life back. Since the beginning of June, I stuck to one plan — ‘DON’T MOVE’. I know it sounds like a very limiting belief, but it worked for me. I chose the late hours when I wasn’t sleepy, between 9 pm and 10 pm, to keep my brain awake with caffeine, lying on my back in the starfish position, and I didn’t move after that time. Here’s what I did, step by step:

Wim Hof breathing technique (about 10 minutes)

Any Yoga Nidra meditation (about 30 minutes)

This way, you stay motionless for 40 minutes but your mind remains awake. Then I use a Void State meditation I recorded with my own voice. I’m sharing the text below for you:

Void State Meditation Script: “Find a place where you can feel comfortable. Make sure your body is as comfortable and relaxed as possible. It’s very important to take your time preparing your body for this practice. If needed, pause, take a deep breath, and come back when you feel ready. When you feel ready, lovingly close your beautiful eyes and allow your awareness to gently turn inward. Gently focus your attention on your breath; notice your belly expanding as you inhale and relaxing as you exhale, maybe feeling a sense of relief.

Let gravity do its work. Feel all the muscles in your body relax and release: your head, face, neck, shoulders, arms, hands... your chest, back, belly, hips, legs, and feet becoming heavier. Because right now, they don’t need to do anything. Whisper gently to your body: “Body, it’s time to relax now. I give you permission to relax.”

With each breath in, fill yourself with deep relaxation, and with each breath out, let all tension flow out of your body. Breathe naturally, at a rhythm that feels good to you, without overthinking it. Trust that even if you don’t consciously understand, your body benefits from this process and is doing what’s right for you. Knowing that your body understands, allow yourself to let go even more.

Now, imagine a vast and dark emptiness in your mind. An infinite, silent, shapeless space... This emptiness gently surrounds you, all your thoughts, feelings, and worries dissolve into this darkness. You no longer need to do anything; you simply exist. All remaining thoughts drift away like clouds floating in the sky. Your body’s boundaries become indistinct; you are now pure awareness in this infinite space. This emptiness fills you with peace; here there is no time, no place, no right or wrong.

Allow the darkness to envelop you. In this void, feel a nameless peace slowly wrapping around you. As this peace deepens, notice a light being born inside. This light is soft, warm, and reassuring. It slowly expands, enveloping your entire being, filling you with love and tranquility. Now, realize that this light actually comes from within you. Fully surrender to this moment.

Rest peacefully in this space for a while. Whether you stay in the endless darkness or watch a colorful display within it doesn’t matter. Trust that this moment and space are with you. With every inhale, notice how good this emptiness and light feel, and with every exhale, sink deeper into relaxation.

When you’re ready, on your next inhale, feel deep gratitude for this darkness and emptiness. Hold your breath and feel your body filling with a sense of lightness. When ready, notice this lightness spreading through your entire body and touching every cell. A sense of enlightenment arises within you; you realize you have the power to choose what your mind perceives, choosing non-judgment and acceptance. You can rest in this feeling as long as you want. Carry the peace, trust, and acceptance this experience gives you inside.

Now, I will count down from 10 to 1. With each number, you will feel closer to the void state: 10: Keep focusing on your breath. 9: Feel yourself getting closer. 8: Take one more step closer to the void in your mind, body, and emotional state. 7: Notice how wonderful it feels to breathe. 6: You are entering the void state. No struggle, no problem, no doubt. 5: You’re very close, feel how near you are. 4: You become one with the void. 3: Closer than ever before. 2: Almost fully in the void state. 1: You are now completely in the void state.”

You can either record this with your own voice or use a text-to-speech app to turn it into audio.

After the meditation, the next step is tricking the brain. Without moving, and with eyes closed, move your eyes left, right, down, and up. 1-2 minutes is enough.

Then comes a robotic affirmation: “I am the Void. I am aware that I am in the void state right now.”

Your body will already be relaxed and numb from immobility, your brain between dream and reality. When the moment comes when all sounds fade away, your entire destiny will change. This was my journey. To make your life even better than your dreams, all you need is 1 to 1.5 hours of not moving, relaxing, and affirming. It’s that simple.

What I have achieved:

୨୧ An extraordinary, never-before-seen facial beauty — green feline eyes, Russian lips, and a Cindy Crawford nose.

୨୧ Slim, narrow shoulders and rib cage, a slender waist and abdomen, proportionate wide hips, and long model-like legs.

୨୧ Hairless, crystal-clear skin free from all skin issues (Goodbye to eczema I had for years).

୨୧ Perfect, flawless, full, soft, shiny, non-frizzy, never breaking, never smelling bad, never greasy, healthy, and always beautifully scented thick wavy light brown hair.

୨୧ Always super clean, attractive, sexy, and sweet-smelling everywhere. Never sweat or smell bad. No sweat stains ever. My clothes and underwear always smell very clean, nice, and sexy. Both my bathroom visits always smell good. No sounds from the bathroom, no discharge, no gas or burps. This doesn’t harm my health.

୨୧ Graduated from Yale Law School and currently accepted to Harvard Law School for my master’s degree.

୨୧ A passive income job earning $15,000 per month and a $5,000 scholarship for my master’s degree.

୨୧ Currently living in a Bosphorus-view loft apartment in Istanbul, with a Mercedes iX.

୨୧ All the skincare products, Dyson, Apple devices, luxury cosmetics, books, cameras, and more from my Pinterest wishlist.

୨୧ My sister overcoming PCOS, and a summer house in Muğla for my mother.

୨୧ Meeting the man of my dreams in the summer of 2026.

And countless other details I can’t list here…

Learning Void State — even if years pass — never lose hope, and remember that something that has never happened before might just happen in one day. Let this be the moment your luck turns around. Thanks to all the Tumblr blogs, I am grateful beyond words. Now, to live the best summer of my life, I’m going to the Bahamas with my sister and my closest three friends. (And yes, I manifested my friends too ;) )

— OPIA (maybe I’ll use this nickname to share motivational talks and thoughts again. I love you all <3)

SO HAPPY FOR YOUUU!!

[ilovemarvel97]

Written in Our Souls - Part 12

Wanda Maximoff x Reader

Summary: Wanda and Y/N start to experiment.

Word Count: 7,937

Warnings: fluff, smut, (18+), use of strap (enchanted)

Series Masterlist || Main Masterlist

---

****: Smut Alert

---

AVENGERS COMPOUND – EARLY MORNING

Tony stood at the kitchen counter, groggy and shirtless, stirring his coffee. The faint sound of phasing echoed from down the hall. He didn’t even look up.

“That’s the third time this week you’ve gone ghost-mode, Vision,” he called out. “You mind telling me where you keep sneaking off to?”

Vision paused mid-phase through the wall of the compound’s rear corridor, caught. He turned his head slightly, expression neutral.

“I require time to process,” he said simply. “Solitude aids in clarity.”

Tony turned, leaning against the counter with a skeptical look. “You’ve been saying that ever since Wanda told you it was over. Not judging, just… noticing. Every morning like clockwork.”

Vision didn’t speak right away. He straightened, the synthetic calm on his face giving way—barely—to something heavier.

“She was… my purpose,” he finally said. “I am struggling to understand what I am without that.”

Tony sighed and rubbed his face. “Welcome to the club, Tin Man. You think I haven’t been there? Lost Pepper once, thought I was gonna break into a million pieces. But you—you’ve been going somewhere specific.”

Vision hesitated.

“I visit the clearing near the lake,” he admitted. “The one behind the east ridge. It’s… quiet. She and I once sat there. Before everything changed.”

Tony blinked. “So you’re haunting your own memories now?”

“I am not capable of haunting.”

Tony rolled his eyes. “Semantics.”

Vision stepped fully through the wall now, facing Tony. “I know she belongs with someone else. I do not interfere. I merely… observe the world as it continues without me in it.”

That hit Tony harder than he expected. He stared at the android—no, the man—in front of him. So composed, yet cracked in places no one could see.

“Look,” Tony said after a long pause, softer now, “I know you’re hurting. But hiding out in the woods like some kind of philosophical raccoon isn’t going to fix anything. You want to find out who you are without her? Then stop looking backward.”

Vision tilted his head. “And what do I look toward, then?”

Tony smirked faintly. “The future. Even if it’s not the one you thought you’d have.”

He turned back to his coffee. “Just don’t make me put a tracker on you, Vision. I’m getting too old to be your babysitter.”

Vision offered the faintest nod of appreciation before he turned away and walked quietly through the wall again.

Tony sipped his coffee, muttering to himself, “Heartbroken synthetics. What’ll they invent next?”

---

Y/N AND WANDA’S ROOM

Soft golden light filtered through the sheer curtains, casting a gentle glow over the bedroom. The world was still quiet outside—the calm of early morning wrapping around the room like a protective cocoon. Inside that warmth, two souls were tangled in the kind of closeness that only soulmates could share.

Y/N stirred first, her body heavy with contentment but her senses instantly attuned to the warmth curled into her side. Wanda was tucked beneath her arm, her head resting on Y/N’s chest, legs tangled together, one of her arms draped protectively around Y/N’s waist. She was breathing softly, lashes casting shadows across her cheeks.

Y/N didn’t move at first. She just lay there, one hand stroking gently up and down Wanda’s bare back, the other resting lightly over Wanda’s wrist—the one that still glowed faintly with her name. The sight made Y/N’s chest ache in the most beautiful way.

After everything—after the tension, the heartbreak, the guilt, and the fear—they were here. Together. Unquestionably bonded.

Y/N brought Wanda’s wrist to her lips and kissed her name, the mark warm under her touch. A soft hum escaped Wanda, and she stirred slightly, nuzzling closer.

“Good morning, love,” Y/N whispered.

Wanda made a sleepy sound in response, not quite words but soft and full of affection. Her eyes fluttered open slowly, and the moment she saw Y/N, a smile—gentle and dreamy—spread across her face. “Hi…” she whispered, voice hoarse and sweet.

Y/N smiled back, brushing a strand of hair from Wanda’s face. “You okay?”

Wanda nodded lazily, her fingers tightening slightly around Y/N’s waist. “More than okay,” she said, voice still thick with sleep. “I feel like I’m glowing… from the inside out.”

Y/N leaned in and kissed her forehead. “That’s because you are. You’re mine now, remember?”

Wanda gave a soft laugh, her cheeks flushing as she looked up at her. “I was always yours. Even when I was trying to lie to myself… it was always you.”

Y/N’s throat tightened, emotion catching her off guard. She ran her thumb across Wanda’s cheek, eyes locked on hers. “I love you, Wanda.”

Wanda’s breath caught. She blinked, the words hitting her with the same gentle force as everything Y/N did—deep, tender, real. “I love you too,” she whispered. “So much it scares me.”

Y/N pulled her closer, kissing her slow and sweet this time, not driven by heat but by something even more intimate—love, safety, knowing. When they broke apart, Wanda tucked her face into Y/N’s neck, and they lay there in silence for a moment, just holding each other.

Then, Wanda’s stomach growled.

Y/N grinned. “Someone’s hungry.”

Wanda let out an embarrassed laugh against her neck. “I think you broke me last night. I need food to recover.”

Y/N chuckled, rolling over to gently nudge her. “Stay in bed. I’ll make breakfast.”

Wanda pulled her back. “No—you’re not going anywhere without me.” She kissed Y/N’s shoulder, her voice soft and full of affection. “You fed my soul last night. Let me feed yours this morning.”

Y/N smiled, cupping her cheek. “We can do it together.”

Wanda kissed Y/N sweetly, her lips soft and warm. She pulled back just enough to whisper against her mouth, “Shower with me first.”

Y/N’s smile was slow, sleepy, and completely enamored. “That sounds suspiciously like a trap.”

Wanda grinned and shifted to sit up, the blanket sliding down her body as she moved. Morning light spilled through the window, catching on her bare skin.

Y/N’s breath caught. She didn’t hide the way her eyes swept over Wanda—soft curves, fading love marks, red hair tousled around her shoulders. She looked like art, like something dreamt into existence.

Wanda noticed the way Y/N was looking at her and blushed, but didn’t look away. Instead, she leaned in and pressed a kiss to Y/N’s cheek, murmuring, “Like I said, you fed my soul last night. Let me feed yours this morning.”

Y/N reached up, brushing a strand of hair behind Wanda’s ear, her palm resting gently on her cheek. “Anything you want my love,” she said, voice thick with tenderness.

Wanda smiled and took her hand, pulling her gently from the bed. They walked toward the bathroom, already bare, already vulnerable—and yet never more complete.

The steam rose quickly as Wanda turned on the shower. Without a word, Y/N stepped in after her, arms sliding around her waist from behind. Wanda leaned into her touch, her back against Y/N’s chest, eyes fluttering shut as warm water poured over them.

For a moment, neither of them spoke. The only sound was the steady rhythm of water hitting tile, mingling with the soft sigh that escaped Wanda’s lips as she melted further into Y/N’s embrace. Y/N lowered her head and pressed a kiss to Wanda’s shoulder, lingering there, breathing her in.

“You feel like home,” Wanda murmured, voice barely above the sound of the water.

Y/N smiled against her skin. “That’s because I am.”

Wanda turned in her arms then, slowly, like she didn’t want to break the moment. Their bodies stayed close, slick and warm, and when their eyes met, there was nothing hidden between them—no more walls, no more fear. Only truth.

Y/N cupped Wanda’s cheek, brushing her thumb along the flushed skin beneath her eye. “I still can’t believe this is real.”

Wanda leaned in, touching their foreheads together. “It is. I feel it everywhere. In my magic. In my chest. In my soul.”

She kissed her then—slow, tender, like she had all the time in the world to explore her. Water trickled down their backs, between their joined bodies, but they hardly noticed. They were lost in each other.

Wanda’s fingers moved up to Y/N’s neck, threading into her damp hair, holding her there like she was afraid to let go. But there was no need. Y/N wasn’t going anywhere.

Not now. Not ever.

When they pulled apart, breathless but smiling, Wanda let out a soft laugh. “We’re never going to get to breakfast at this rate.”

Y/N smirked, resting her forehead against Wanda’s again. “That depends. What’s on the menu?”

Wanda raised a brow, eyes twinkling with playful mischief. “Me, if you want.”

Y/N groaned softly, sliding her hands down to rest on Wanda’s hips. “God, you’re going to be the death of me.”

Wanda kissed her again, deeper this time. “Then at least you’ll die happy.”

Something in the way she said it—so confident, so certain—set a fire off in Y/N’s chest. In one swift motion, she turned Wanda around, pressing her gently against the warm shower wall. Their bodies collided with a quiet gasp, and Y/N smashed their lips together, hunger taking over softness, need overwhelming restraint.

Wanda responded instantly, her hands gripping Y/N’s wet shoulders, pulling her closer, moaning softly into her mouth. The kiss was messy, desperate, full of all the things they hadn’t said for too long—all the longing, all the fear, all the love. There was no hesitation now. Just them.

Y/N’s fingers traced the curve of Wanda’s waist, grounding herself in the feel of her, the heat of her skin beneath slick water. She kissed her like she was trying to memorize every inch of her mouth, like she couldn’t bear the thought of letting her go even for a second.

Wanda gasped as Y/N’s lips moved from her mouth to her jaw, then down to her neck, where she nipped lightly, sending a shiver through her spine. Her hands tangled in Y/N’s hair, holding her close, eyes fluttering shut again as her head tilted back against the wall.

“Detka…” she whispered, breathless and aching.

Y/N looked up, lips brushing Wanda’s collarbone. “Tell me to stop.”

“I won’t,” Wanda said without hesitation, voice raw with emotion. “I love you.”

Y/N froze for just a moment, heart pounding, water cascading over them both like a quiet witness to the words neither of them had spoken until now.

She leaned up, their eyes locking, and smiled—tender, vulnerable, a little stunned. “I love you too.”

And then there was nothing left to hold back.

Afterward, the air was quiet—thick with steam and something softer, heavier. Wanda leaned against the tiled wall, her breathing gradually steadying as Y/N gently kissed her forehead, then reached past her for the shampoo.

This time, there was no urgency. Just intimacy.

Y/N lathered the shampoo in her hands and ran her fingers through Wanda’s hair with the kind of care that made Wanda’s heart ache in the best way. Wanda closed her eyes, leaning into her touch, letting herself melt under the warm water and the affection wrapped in every slow, gentle motion.

They washed each other in silence—quiet, not from discomfort, but from understanding. The kind of quiet that spoke louder than any words could.

When they stepped out of the shower, their fingers were still loosely entwined, like neither could fully let go just yet. Wanda reached for a towel and gently wrapped it around Y/N first, then took another for herself. Y/N watched her, still in awe of how someone could be so soft and so powerful all at once.

Back in the bedroom, sunlight had begun to filter through the curtains, warm and golden. Y/N sat on the edge of the bed, towel tucked around her, watching Wanda move around the room. There was something different about her now. Not just the glow of afterglow—but peace. Certainty.

Wanda caught her gaze and smiled shyly. “What?”

“You look happy,” Y/N said softly.

“I am,” Wanda admitted, walking over to her and brushing damp hair from her face. “For the first time in a long time…I really am.”

Y/N reached for her hand and kissed her knuckles. “Good. Because I’m not going anywhere, Wanda. Not anymore.”

Wanda knelt in front of her, resting her forehead against Y/N’s. “I don’t want you to.”

They stayed like that for a moment—two bare souls wrapped in towels and truth, hearts thudding in sync. Then Wanda grinned and nudged her gently. “Come on. I’m hungry.”

Y/N kissed her cheek. “Of course”

Wanda giggle.

They got dressed in a tangle of shared glances and playful kisses, like everything heavy had finally lifted. And as they made their way to the kitchen hand-in-hand, still barefoot, still damp, still completely and utterly in love—it felt like the start of something real. Something lasting.

Something finally right.

The following days passed in a blur of tangled sheets, soft laughter, and whispered promises. Y/N and Wanda were practically inseparable—drawn to each other with a magnetic pull neither tried to resist. If anything, they indulged in it completely.

They made love like they were making up for lost time. Slow, then fast. Gentle, then hungry. In the early hours of the morning when the world was still asleep, and again when moonlight spilled across the bed. They couldn’t keep their hands off each other, and they didn’t try to. Every kiss deepened their bond; every shared breath felt sacred.

Wanda would find excuses to touch her—even if it was just brushing Y/N’s hair back behind her ear or pressing a kiss to her shoulder as she passed. Y/N wasn’t any better. She caught herself constantly staring at Wanda, utterly captivated, always finding a way to pull her close, to remind her with touch what she didn’t always know how to say out loud.

They cooked together—well, tried to. Most mornings the eggs were forgotten, the toast burnt, and the pancakes abandoned in favor of kisses and tangled limbs on the kitchen counter. They laughed about it afterward, curled up on the couch with coffee Wanda never finished and fingers laced like lifelines.

Even the compound couldn’t ignore the shift. Natasha smirked knowingly whenever she saw the two of them sneaking off, and Sam had made a running joke about putting up a “Do Not Disturb” sign on their door. Vision kept his distance—respectfully, quietly—but it was clear he understood things had changed permanently.

There was one night, after yet another evening of soft touches and slow breaths, when Wanda lay with her head on Y/N’s chest, tracing circles over her skin.

“I used to be so afraid of this,” Wanda murmured, voice barely audible. “Of how badly I wanted you. Of what it meant.”

Y/N’s hand moved through her hair. “And now?”

Wanda looked up at her, eyes shining in the dark. “Now I’m more afraid of not having you.”

“You won’t lose me,” Y/N said, firm and gentle all at once. “You’re my soulmate, Wanda. There’s nowhere else I belong.”

Wanda kissed her then—not because she had to, but because she couldn’t not. And when they made love that night, it was slower than the others. Reverent. Like they were carving a promise into each other’s skin.

It wasn’t just passion.

It was home.

---

TRAINING ROOM – AFTERNOON

The clang of metal against metal echoed in the gym as the team cycled through combat drills. Y/N moved effortlessly through the routine. Although she was not using her super speed, it was too easy. She blocked Sam’s punch easily and flipped him onto the mat. 

“Alright, alright,” Sam muttered with a grin, winded. “Remind me never to spar with you right after lunch again.”

Y/N offered a hand to help him up, her breathing steady. But as she scanned the room for the next rotation, her brow furrowed.

“Where’s Vision?” she asked casually, grabbing her towel and draping it around her neck.

Natasha, who was tightening the straps on her gloves nearby, caught the question. “Hasn’t shown up today. Wasn’t here yesterday either.”

Y/N looked over. “He’s not on a mission, is he?”

Nat shrugged, but her eyes were sharp, curious. “Not that I know of. But he’s been disappearing a lot lately. Quietly. Always alone.”

Y/N’s throat tightened slightly. She glanced toward the door, as if expecting him to walk in at any second, but it stayed stubbornly closed.

“Maybe he just… needs space,” she murmured, though even to her, it sounded weak.

Nat tilted her head. “You okay?”

Y/N nodded slowly. “Yeah. I just… I know this whole thing with Wanda didn’t come easy. For any of us. I didn’t mean to hurt him.”

Nat didn’t say anything for a beat, then offered a small nod. “He’s not easy to read, but he’s not heartless. Maybe he just needs time.”

Y/N sighed. “I’ll find him later. Talk to him. I owe him that much.”

Nat gave her a quick pat on the back. “Good. Because whatever he felt for her, it can’t compare to what you two are. Soulmates aren’t just love—they’re inevitability. Still… he cared. And that kind of loss can sting, even when it was never meant to last.”

Y/N looked down at the faint, glowing letters on her wrist, her heart heavy with both love and guilt.

“I’ll talk to him,” she whispered again.

Back in their room, Wanda lay curled on the bed, her hair still damp from her post-training shower. Y/N was toweling off by the closet, digging through a drawer for something comfortable to wear when she heard Wanda’s soft voice behind her.

“What were you talking about with Nat earlier?”

Y/N glanced over her shoulder. Wanda’s voice was casual, but her pout gave her away. Arms tucked under her cheek, eyes slightly narrowed, lips pushed out just enough to be adorable—and clearly a little jealous.

Y/N smirked. “You jealous, Maximoff?”

Wanda rolled onto her back with a dramatic sigh, staring at the ceiling. “Maybe a little,” she muttered. “She always looks at you like she knows something the rest of us don’t.”

Y/N chuckled and walked over, tossing the towel aside and sliding into bed on top of her.

Wanda immediately wrapped her arms around Y/N’s neck, pulling her close with a quiet, needy sound. Despite her jealousy, she clung to her like she couldn’t stand even a few inches of distance.

Y/N smiled softly at the way Wanda held her, their noses nearly brushing. “She probably does. But we weren’t flirting, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

Wanda raised a brow but didn’t loosen her grip. “Then what?”

“She was just… letting me know Vision’s been disappearing from the compound sometimes. Said I might want to talk to him.” Y/N traced slow circles on Wanda’s bare shoulder. “I told her I would.”

Wanda hummed in understanding, but her brow stayed furrowed as she held Y/N tighter.

“Hey,” Y/N said gently, tilting her chin to meet her eyes. “I love you. Not Nat. Not anyone else. You. And it’s not even close.”

Wanda softened, the pout fading. She leaned in to kiss her, slow and certain. “I know. Doesn’t mean I like sharing you—even for a conversation.”

Y/N grinned against her lips. “Good thing you don’t have to.”

Wanda melted into the kiss, her fingers threading into Y/N’s damp hair as she deepened it—possessive, tender, full of everything she’d once tried to bury. When they finally parted, she rested her forehead against Y/N’s and whispered, “I hate that I ever pushed you away.”

Y/N brushed her thumb across Wanda’s cheek. “You didn’t know the extent of the soulmate bond. Neither of us did—not really.”

“I did,” Wanda admitted softly. “I felt it the moment I met you. I just… didn’t want to believe something so perfect could be real. And I was scared. But it’s my fault, Y/N. I was the one who stayed with him. I was the one who tried to pretend you weren’t my soulmate.”

Y/N exhaled, her brows pulling together. “Maybe. But I’m not blameless either. I kissed you knowing what it would mean… knowing you were engaged. I should’ve walked away. I didn’t.”

Wanda reached for her hand and tangled their fingers together. “You want me there?”

Y/N gave her a soft smile and shook her head. “It’s okay. You already talked to him… you told him the truth. Now it’s my turn to talk to him properly. I need to do this.”

Wanda searched her eyes for a moment, then nodded. “Okay. Just—promise me you won’t carry all of it alone.”

“I won’t,” Y/N said, lifting Wanda’s hand to her lips and kissing her knuckles. “We’re in this together, remember? Always.”

Wanda smiled, the weight in her chest easing as she pulled Y/N back into her arms. “Always.”

---

Later that evening, after a quiet dinner, Y/N found herself outside Vision’s lab. The lights were on, humming faintly through the glass walls. The door was slightly open, and from where she stood, she could see him seated in front of a glowing console, connected via a thin cord to the interface on his wrist.

She knocked lightly. The screen he was working on instantly changed.

“Y/N,” he said, turning in his chair, tone carefully neutral. “What brings you here?”

She stepped inside, slowly. “Can we talk?”

He tilted his head but didn’t object. “Go ahead.”

Y/N took a seat, noticing the silence between them thicken. “I wanted to apologize,” she began. “For everything. For how things happened.”

Vision’s expression barely shifted, but there was a flicker of something in his eyes. “You mean for taking Wanda from me.”

Y/N sighed softly. “I didn’t take her from you. This wasn’t about winning or losing.”

He gave a short, humorless laugh. “Isn’t it? One day, we were fine. The next… she’s your soulmate.”

“She’s always been,” Y/N said quietly. “Even before either of us knew.”

He looked at her sharply. “That word again. Soulmate. As if biology and predetermined marks can override choice and logic.”

“It’s not just biology,” Y/N said. “It’s something older. Deeper. It’s a bond we didn’t ask for—but we feel it. You’ve seen it.”

“I’ve seen what humans do when they think they’re destined for someone,” he snapped. “You call it fate. I call it conditioning. You’re not manipulating her intentionally, but this bond—this thing—has clouded her judgment. She was happy before.”

Y/N leaned forward. “She wasn’t. Not really. She was surviving. She was trying to live a life that didn’t feel like hers. And you know it.”

His jaw tightened, and he turned slightly toward the console again, though he didn’t reconnect.

“I know you love her,” Y/N added, softer now. “And I don’t blame you for that. But this—what Wanda and I have—it’s not something you can override with logic or will.”

“She’ll come back,” Vision said quietly, almost to himself. “Eventually, she’ll see past it. Past you.”

Y/N stood slowly, the ache in her chest sharp but steady. “If you truly care about her, then I hope—someday—you’ll want her to be where she’s happiest. Even if it’s not with you.”

Vision didn’t respond. He stared at the dark monitor.

Y/N lingered for just a moment longer. “Goodnight, Vision.”

No answer came.

She left, the weight of the encounter heavy in her chest—but her steps didn’t falter. There was pain behind them, but also truth. And sometimes truth didn’t make things easier—it just made them clearer.

Y/N paused by the door, turning back for a final moment. Her voice was low, steady.

“I didn’t come here to argue, Vision. I just came to apologize for how things happened. That’s all.”

She didn’t wait for an answer this time.

And Vision—still staring at the dark screen—didn’t give one.

---

Y/N stepped out into the hallway, quietly shutting the door behind her. The hum of the compound seemed distant, muted compared to the thoughts swirling in her mind. She exhaled slowly, rolling her shoulders, trying to release the tension that had built from the conversation with Vision.

Just a few feet down the hall, she found Wanda leaning casually against the wall, arms crossed, eyes already on her. But the moment their gazes met, Wanda’s expression softened.

“How’d it go?” she asked gently.

Y/N shrugged, then walked closer, slipping her hands into Wanda’s. “Not great. He… he still thinks this is some kind of manipulation. That you’ll come back to him eventually.”

Wanda’s jaw tightened, but she didn’t say anything for a moment. Her thumbs rubbed slow, grounding circles over Y/N’s knuckles.

“I’m sorry,” she finally whispered.

Y/N shook her head. “You don’t need to be. I just needed to say my part. Be honest.”

“You are honest. That’s what I love about you.” Wanda’s voice was soft, but fierce in its sincerity.

They stood there in silence for a beat, the warmth of their linked hands steady between them.

Then Wanda looked up again, tilting her head with a small, wry smile. “So… now that you’ve done the mature, emotionally responsible thing…” Her fingers tugged gently at Y/N’s. “Can I steal you for something a little less responsible?”

Y/N chuckled. “That depends. Are we talking morally irresponsible or just emotionally indulgent?”

“Oh, definitely the second one.”

Wanda didn’t have a chance to react before Y/N grinned mischievously, suddenly sweeping her off her feet in one smooth, effortless motion.

“Y/N!” she squealed, wrapping her arms around Y/N’s neck on instinct. “What are you doing?”

Y/N kissed her nose. “Taking my girl where she belongs,” she said with a wink, and then—whoosh.

In a blink, they were gone from the hallway, the wind tousling Wanda’s hair as Y/N used her speed to zip them through the compound. Wanda gasped, laughing uncontrollably as the world became a blur of walls and lights.

Before she could even catch her breath, they were back in their room, the door swinging shut behind them as Y/N slowed and gently set Wanda down on the bed like she was something precious.

“See?” Y/N said, brushing a strand of hair from Wanda’s face. “Emotionally indulgent. Just how you like it.”

Wanda was still breathless from the ride and the warmth of being held. Her eyes glistened with affection as she pulled Y/N down with her.

“I love you,” she whispered. “So much that it hurts sometimes.”

Y/N settled beside her, nuzzling close. “Then let me be your remedy.”

And the world outside faded, once again, into nothing.

Wanda narrowed her eyes playfully, her fingers drifting through Y/N’s hair as she leaned in until their noses brushed.

“I love you,” she whispered again, voice soft but sure.

Y/N’s grin melted into something tender, vulnerable. Her heart stuttered, like it was hearing those words for the first time—even though, in her soul, she’d always known.

She cupped Wanda’s cheek, their foreheads resting together.

“I love you too,” Y/N whispered back. “I’m crazy in love with you.”

Wanda smiled through the emotion welling in her chest and kissed her—slow and deep and full of everything words couldn’t hold.

---

The next day

The sun was barely rising when Y/N stood by the quinjet with Nat and Clint, checking gear and going over the mission brief one last time. It was a quick extraction—nothing too complicated—but even simple missions came with their risks. Wanda stood a few feet away, arms crossed, trying to look calm, but her eyes betrayed her.

Y/N walked over, slipping her arms around Wanda’s waist and pulling her in close. Wanda rested her head against Y/N’s shoulder, the tension in her body unmistakable.

“I’ll be back before dinner,” Y/N promised, pressing a soft kiss to Wanda’s forehead.

Wanda didn’t say anything right away. Her fingers gently gripped the back of Y/N’s shirt like she didn’t want to let go. Y/N, sensing her unease, smiled softly and took Wanda’s left hand, turning her wrist so the name written there—Y/N—was facing up.

“Hey,” she whispered, brushing her lips against her name inked into Wanda’s skin. “You’re not alone anymore. I’m yours. And I’ll always come back to you.”

The warmth from Y/N’s kiss radiated through Wanda’s whole body. The ache that had always accompanied her soulmate mark—the weight of longing, uncertainty, rejection—had dulled since they came together. Now it buzzed softly, like a tether of love pulling her toward Y/N even as they parted.

Clint’s voice echoed across the platform. “Jet’s ready, lovebirds.”

Y/N smirked and kissed Wanda again, lingering. “I’ll text you the moment we land.”

Wanda nodded, finally managing a small smile. “Be safe. And if Clint crashes the jet again…”

“I’ll take the wheel,” Y/N finished with a wink.

Wanda watched the quinjet lift off, arms wrapping tightly around herself. She stayed there, unmoving, until the jet disappeared from view, then wandered back into the compound, the silence settling over her like a heavy blanket.

Back in their room, she slipped into one of Y/N’s hoodies and curled up on the bed. Her fingers absently brushed over her mark again.

This time, there was no sharp stab of pain. Just warmth. A quiet reminder of the girl who had kissed her name and promised to return.

---

The mission itself went smoothly—almost suspiciously so. Infiltration, data retrieval, exfil—textbook. No alarms tripped, no unexpected hostiles, and Clint even managed to avoid spraining his ankle this time.

Now, the quinjet hummed quietly on autopilot, cutting through the sky toward home. Nat was polishing her knives while Clint sat beside Y/N, snacking on something unidentifiable from his tactical pouch.

“You know,” Clint said between bites, “it’s honestly kind of great seeing you and Wanda finally where you belong. Took you both long enough.”

Nat smirked. “Seriously. The tension was getting unbearable. We were all taking bets on when one of you would snap and kiss the other.”

Y/N chuckled, leaning back into her seat. “Yeah, well… it wasn’t exactly simple.”

“Nothing ever is with feelings,” Nat said lightly, but her voice held something guarded—an undercurrent of emotion she didn’t quite mask.

Clint turned to her with a knowing look. “Speaking of complicated feelings… maybe it’s your turn.”

Y/N blinked and looked between them. “Wait—what do you mean?”

Clint gave Nat a teasing nudge. “Oh, don’t act all innocent now. She’s been avoiding her soulmate for years.”

Y/N’s brows shot up. “What? Nat told me she hasn’t even met her soulmate yet.”

Nat gave Clint a sharp look, but said nothing.

Y/N turned to her, more serious now. “Wait… Nat?”

Nat exhaled slowly. “It’s… complicated.”

Clint snorted. “You keep saying that, but really, you’re the one making it complicated.”

Y/N tilted her head. “Who is it?”

There was a pause, then Nat answered quietly, “Maria. Maria Hill.”

Y/N blinked. “Wait—Hill? Seriously?”

“She’s known for a while,” Clint said. “They both have. It’s not rejection or anything—hell, they hook up from time to time—but Nat keeps telling herself she doesn’t deserve it.”

“Because of your past?” Y/N asked gently.

Nat nodded. “Yeah. I’ve done things I’ll never forgive myself for. Being a widow… it wasn’t just training. It was blood. And I… I don’t know. Maria’s good. Too good.”

Y/N leaned forward. “Nat… you’ve seen me and Wanda. I tried to pretend the bond didn’t mean anything. I buried it, ignored it, tried to move on. And Wanda did the same, staying with Vision when we both knew it wasn’t right. But it didn’t matter what we did. You can’t run from it forever. It pulls you back.”

Nat looked down at her hands.

“You can’t avoid it,” Y/N said gently. “Once you meet your soulmate… sooner or later, you’ll be together. It’s not just a mark. It’s in your soul.”

“She’s waiting,” Clint added. “She’s not pushing, not demanding anything. But she’s there. Because she believes in you. Maybe it’s time you start doing the same.”

Nat was quiet for a moment, then gave a soft sigh. Her expression didn’t change much, but her posture relaxed just a bit—something unspoken easing in her shoulders.

Y/N smiled. “You know… when you’re ready, we’ll be here. Soulmate support group and all.”

Nat offered a small smile back. “Thanks.”

Y/N suddenly glanced down at her wrist, her smile appearing out of nowhere—soft, wide, and entirely unguarded. Her fingers brushed over Wanda’s name like it was sacred.

Nat noticed immediately. “What just happened?”

Y/N let out a quiet laugh, eyes still on her wrist. “It’s Wanda. My wrist is humming.” She looked up at them, eyes glowing with affection. “She’s probably touching hers right now. She does that when she misses me.”

Clint grinned. “Laura does the same thing. Every time I’m on a mission, she’ll rub her mark absentmindedly. Says it makes her feel close to me.”

“That’s kind of adorable,” Nat admitted, glancing between them.

“It is,” Y/N said softly, still smiling like a love-struck fool. “It’s like… this quiet little echo that reminds you someone’s thinking of you. No matter where you are.”

Clint leaned back in his seat. “Soulmates, man. Freaky, cosmic-level stuff.”

Y/N turned to Nat with a knowing smile. “Try it. Touch Maria’s name. Think about her. I bet she’ll feel it.”

Nat hesitated, glancing down at her wrist like it held a secret she wasn’t ready to unlock. Still, her fingers hovered over the mark—Maria’s name etched into her skin like a ghost she couldn’t quite let go of.

“I don’t know…” she murmured.

Y/N shrugged gently. “You don’t have to do anything. But if you ever want to feel that connection again… it’s always there. She’s waiting, Nat. I can feel it. You two may not be together yet, but you’re not alone either.”

Nat didn’t answer, but her hand lowered slowly, brushing over Maria’s name with the gentlest of touches.

Y/N just chuckled and leaned back too, one hand still over her wrist, feeling the faint, electric buzz of Wanda’s touch through the bond. Even apart, they were connected.

And in that small moment, the jet didn’t feel so far from home.

---

As soon as the quinjet touched down and the ramp lowered, Wanda was already there—waiting, practically vibrating with anticipation.

The second Y/N stepped out, she didn’t even get a chance to speak. Wanda launched herself forward, wrapping her arms tightly around her and kissing her like nothing else mattered—fierce, fearless, and full of longing.

Y/N barely managed a breath before Wanda pulled back just enough to look at her, eyes dark with heat and adoration. That one look was all it took.

With a blur of movement and a gust of wind left in their wake, Y/N swept Wanda into her arms and sped them away, heading straight for their room without a single word.

Nat blinked, still holding the debriefing tablet. “What about the mission report—?”

“Aaaand they’re gone!” Clint said, smirking as he walked past her, clearly amused. “Let ’em be, Nat. You know how it is. When soulmates finally get their act together, it’s all honeymoon phase for a while.”

Nat just sighed, shaking her head as she watched the trail of papers flutter from the jet’s cargo bay, proof that Y/N hadn’t even slowed down. But even she couldn’t help the small smile tugging at her lips.

---

****

Back in their room, the door slammed shut behind them as Y/N barely paused before laying Wanda gently—yet urgently—on the bed. Their mouths found each other again, hungry, breathless. Hands tangled in hair, exploring skin as clothing was shed with practiced urgency, their hearts pounding in sync.

Wanda’s back arched as Y/N kissed down her neck, her moans soft and needy. Her fingers gripped at Y/N’s shoulders, grounding herself in the intensity of it all.

When Y/N pulled back slightly, brushing her lips over Wanda’s flushed cheek, she whispered with a teasing smile, “Tell me what you want.”

Wanda’s eyes locked onto hers, dark and filled with need. “I want you,” she said, voice husky and trembling. “I want your cock. Please.”

Y/N’s breath caught for a moment—not just at the words, but the trust in them. She nodded, kissing Wanda deeply, a firm yet tender press of lips that said everything. Wanda sighed into her mouth, her hands still wandering Y/N’s bare back as if she couldn’t get close enough.

“Be right back,” Y/N murmured against her lips, giving her one last lingering kiss before slipping off the bed.

Wanda watched her with flushed cheeks and dark eyes as Y/N crossed the room, opening the closet where they kept a small locked box tucked behind a few clothes. She pulled it out with practiced ease, her fingers moving quickly. Wanda’s breath hitched, anticipation humming between them as she sat up slightly, legs folding beneath her, waiting.

When Y/N turned back to her, strap in hand and a glint in her eyes, Wanda bit her bottom lip—completely undone by the sight of her soulmate walking toward her like that.

“I’ve got you,” Y/N said softly, climbing back onto the bed.

And Wanda believed her. Every word. Every look. Every touch.

As Y/N adjusted the strap around her hips, buckling it tight, she glanced up when Wanda shifted on the bed—her cheeks still pink, but her expression suddenly curious, almost mischievous.

“I… want to try something,” Wanda murmured, her fingers glowing faintly red as she reached out.

Y/N paused, tilting her head. “What are you—”

“Just hold still,” Wanda said gently, concentrating as her magic surrounded the strap and pulsed softly against Y/N’s skin. The room filled with a soft hum, the magic warm but not overwhelming—intimate, purposeful. Wanda’s eyes red from her powers fluttered slightly.

Y/N sucked in a breath as she felt a strange warmth rush over her core—deep, shocking, and… real. The strap no longer just sat against her body; it felt like part of her. She gasped as sensation flooded her nerves, like her mind had accepted the magic completely.

Wanda looked up from her spell work, her voice soft and a little unsure. “I hope it worked…”

She reached out, wrapping her fingers gently around the shaft—and Y/N let out a sharp, involuntary moan, her hips jolting forward.

Wanda’s eyes sparkled with fascination as she held the strap a little firmer in her hand. “It’s really warm,” she whispered again, almost to herself, like she couldn’t believe what she’d just created.

“Holy—Wanda,” Y/N gasped, her voice breaking as her hips twitched forward involuntarily. “I can feel it. I can actually feel it.”

Wanda’s lips parted slightly, her breath catching at Y/N’s reaction. Curiosity flickered in her gaze, and then—without looking away—she pumped her hand experimentally along the shaft.

Y/N let out a strangled moan, her head falling back as her fingers curled tightly into the sheets. “Oh my God—Wanda.”

Wanda’s eyes widened, her lips curling into a stunned, delighted smile. “You can really feel everything?”

Y/N nodded breathlessly. “Everything. Every move. Every—shit, Wanda—”

Wanda’s breath caught, her eyes darkening with desire as she slowly lay back against the pillows, her gaze never leaving Y/N’s. With a soft, commanding whisper, she said, “Then come here. I want you inside me.”

She spread her legs, inviting, open, already trembling with anticipation. The sight of her—flushed, needy, and completely unguarded—drove the air from Y/N’s lungs.

Y/N moved immediately, almost without thought, crawling up between Wanda’s thighs like she was answering a call only her soul could hear. Her hands gripped Wanda’s hips, reverent and hungry, and she lined herself up, the enchanted strap throbbing in time with her racing heart.

Their eyes locked, the moment thick with tension and longing. “Are you sure?” Y/N whispered, her voice hoarse.

Wanda nodded, biting her lip. “I’ve never been more sure of anything.”

And with one slow, deep thrust, Y/N finally sank into her—into home.

As Y/N bottomed out, fully deep inside Wanda, the rush of new sensations—intimate, overwhelming— and Wanda’s wet, warm, walls tightening around her slammed into her all at once. Her body tensed, breath caught in her throat, and with a strangled moan, she came hard, hips trembling as the climax tore through her like a wave crashing against the shore.

Wanda gasped, her back arching when she suddenly felt something warm spill deep inside her.

Her eyes flew open. “Y/N—!” she cried, stunned and breathless, her body shuddering as her own orgasm hit her like lightning. The unexpected heat inside her pushed her over the edge, sending her spiraling into bliss.

They clung to each other, gasping, shaking, riding out their highs together.

When Wanda finally caught her breath, she blinked at Y/N, flushed and dazed. “D-did you just…?” she asked, stunned.

Y/N nodded weakly, her face equally shocked. “I think so—Wanda, I—I came. I’m so sorry…I…”

Wanda copped her cheeks “It’s okay, it was hot” Wanda smirk, “besides…I think you spilled something inside me”Despite her amusement she continues, “I didn’t know the spell would make that happen…”

Y/N blinked, her heart still racing, overwhelmed by the raw connection between them. Slowly, she eased back, carefully pulling out to check—more out of disbelief than anything else.

Her breath hitched when she saw the thick, white liquid slipping from Wanda. It was warm, glistening, and undeniably real—at least as far as the spell made it feel.

Wanda’s eyes fluttered shut for a second, a soft moan escaping her lips as the sensation sparked another rush of heat between her legs.

Y/N stared in awe, the strap between her legs stirring—rising again, as if responding to Wanda’s arousal, or perhaps her own. She gasped as the movement brought another pulse of pleasure, just as vivid and undeniable as before.

Wanda looked up, her cheeks flushed and her lips parted.

Y/N groaned, overwhelmed by the sensation and the way Wanda looked up at her—flushed, breathless, and utterly hers.

“I need more, babe,” she murmured, her voice low and urgent. “I need more.”

Without waiting, she slid back into Wanda, the magic-enhanced connection making every inch feel impossibly real. They both gasped, their bodies arching instinctively toward each other.

Wanda’s fingers dug into Y/N’s back as she whispered, “Don’t stop.”

Their rhythm found its own pace—one born not just of lust, but of the deep soul bond humming between them, stronger now than ever. Every touch, every thrust echoed through that invisible thread, tying them even tighter together.

“I can feel you,” Y/N whispered against Wanda’s ear, her voice trembling from the intensity coursing through her. “All of you.”

She pressed a reverent kiss to Wanda’s neck, lingering there as her hands gripped tighter at her hips. “You’re so tight,” she murmured, her voice low and breathless with awe.

Wanda let out a soft moan, her fingers threading through Y/N’s hair, pulling her closer. “It’s because it’s you,” she whispered shakily. “Only you.”

Their eyes met—glassy, hungry, full of something that went far beyond the physical.

The bond between them pulsed like a heartbeat, wrapping around them with each movement, each breath, making everything feel impossibly heightened. Like their bodies were just an extension of their souls finally finding peace—in passion, in love, in each other.

Neither of them could tell where one ended and the other began.

And neither of them ever wanted to.

Y/N moved slowly at first, savoring every inch of Wanda wrapped around her—warm, trembling, impossibly close. Her lips trailed soft, lingering kisses down the side of Wanda’s neck, drawing a sigh from deep in her chest.

She murmured Wanda’s name like a prayer between kisses, her mouth moving lower—over her collarbone, down to the swell of her breasts, worshipping her with every brush of her lips. Wanda arched into the touch, her fingers curling against Y/N’s back as if anchoring herself in that moment.

Y/N looked up at her, breathless and reverent, before moving up again—peppering kisses back up her chest, her jaw, and finally meeting her lips in a deep, desperate kiss.

Their mouths moved in sync, just as their bodies did—needy, full of emotion that had nowhere else to go but into each other.

Inside her, Y/N moved with growing urgency, not just seeking release, but trying to convey everything she felt—how much she loved her, how much she needed her, how the bond between them had changed everything.

Wanda moaned against her lips, her thighs tightening around Y/N’s waist, her voice trembling as she whispered, “Don’t stop. Please—don’t stop.”

And Y/N didn’t. She held her like she was everything she ever wanted—because she was.

Y/N’s rhythm deepened, guided by the way Wanda moved beneath her—each gasp, each roll of her hips urging her on. She kissed Wanda harder, pouring herself into every movement, every breathless sound between them.

“You feel so good,” Y/N murmured, forehead pressed to Wanda’s. Her voice was low, almost broken with how overwhelmed she felt. “Like you were made for me.”

Wanda’s hands tangled in her hair, pulling her closer. “I was,” she whispered fiercely, her eyes glassy with emotion. “I am.”

The bond between them pulsed, alive and electric. It hummed under their skin, making every sensation sharper, deeper. Y/N felt everything—not just physically, but emotionally. The way Wanda’s body clung to hers, the way her heart raced in sync with her own, the way the bond echoed with every thrust—it was almost too much.

Wanda’s back arched as another wave hit her, and she cried out, clutching Y/N tighter. Her magic sparked uncontrolled at her fingertips, swirling red along Y/N’s back like a caress.

“Wanda—” Y/N’s voice cracked, her body trembling as she fought to hold back. But Wanda looked at her with fire in her eyes, breathless and wild.

“Let go, detka!” she said. “I want to feel all of it. You—everything.”

With a moan that tore from deep within her, Y/N thrust one final time and came undone, her body collapsing against Wanda’s as pleasure coursed through every inch of her. Wanda followed, shattering around her with a cry that echoed in the room, the bond flaring so brightly it felt like the world had fallen away, leaving just the two of them.

****

They stayed tangled in each other, breathing heavily, skin slick and flushed, the room humming with the aftermath of magic and love.

Y/N nuzzled Wanda’s cheek, whispering softly, “I’ve never felt anything like that… ever.”

Wanda smiled, eyes still closed. “That’s because nothing else compares. We’re soulmates, Y/N. This is what we were meant to be.”

Wanda’s heart swelled at the tenderness in Y/N’s voice. She wrapped her arms around her, holding her close as their bodies remained entwined, the warmth between them still lingering.

She smiled softly against Y/N’s lips. “You don’t have to thank me,” she whispered, brushing her thumb gently along Y/N’s jaw. “You’re mine. I wanted to give you everything. I always will.”

Y/N’s eyes glistened with something deeper than lust—something ancient and certain. She kissed Wanda again, slower this time, reverent. “It felt like more than magic. Like… you gave me a part of yourself.”

“I did,” Wanda said simply. “And you took it like it belonged to you. Because it does.”

The bond between them thrummed again, not urgent this time, but steady and full—like a promise sealed in heat and heart.

They lay there in silence for a while, Wanda tracing patterns on Y/N’s back, the strap still nestled between them, pulsing faintly with the spell’s residual magic.

After a long moment, Y/N chuckled softly. “You know, now that I know what this feels like… we’re never going to leave this room.”

Wanda smirked, her fingers sliding down Y/N’s spine. “Good. Let them try to tear us apart.”

Y/N pressed her forehead to Wanda’s. “They never will.”

---

[cooking-with-hailstones]

Murderbot 1x07 thoughts

Man, they're REALLY driving home the parallels between secunits and leebeebee, and not even trying to be subtle about it.

The moment of reckoning, where they were getting ready to acknowledge and process what happened with leebeebee was interrupted by worm attack (oh Arada you big beautiful nerd I love you so much), and we never got that tension resolved. Mensah is trying but the team is so rattled and Gurathin you're NOT HELPING. (Sidenote I think it's so interesting how deadset he is on secunit being the biggest threat to them! Even after it saved his life. Even after all the evidence. He's still so paranoid and jealous that he cannot see or flatly refuses to see that Murderbot is everyone's best and maybe only chance of survival.)

Anyways, then we get another secunit attack, and very clearly they're outgunned. (Great intro to that scene btw. "That's when I learned that more advanced secunits can jam my threat assessment" - BOOM attack! Nicely done.) The only reason they win is because the secunit destroys the worm eggs and it comes back and RIPS ITS HEAD OFF - see what I mean? PARALLELS. NOT SUBTLE.

And of course, what do they do? They cheer! They're jubilant. And we get this lingering shot of the other secunit's broken faceplate, the rictus of pain and fear on its dead face. And murderbot stays and looks at it for a while.

It too was a person. And for all the PresAux team (minus Gurathin) claim to see Secunit as a person, they don't yet. Not really. Mensah is getting there. But the rest of them are still like "awwh we adopted this sweet kicked puppy from the dumpster WAIT SHIT THE DOG ATTACKED SOMEONE OH NO"

(BOOK SPOILERS FOR TV ONLY PEOPLE UNDER THE CUT!!!)

I think this makes murderbot's decision to leave at the end of this season make more sense to the audience. Because the team isn't ready for it yet.

"You don't actually see me as a person. You don't see constructs as people. And I need to go figure out how to be a person and I can't do that if you don't also think of me as people, and only think of me as this kicked dog that you rescued from a dumpster. I don't want to be a pet that you have to rehabilitate and civilize"

Except it would never actually say that or articulate that in that way but, you know what I mean. That's the vibe.

[kikiiidym]

How would PJO and HOO boys react if you told them you're pregnant?

Percy Jackson :

“You’re… you’re serious? Like, for real?”

The sea-green eyes widen like crashing waves. For a second, Percy forgets how to breathe. Then—he blinks, laughs, and suddenly he’s pulling you into his arms, almost spinning you off the ground.

“I’m gonna be a dad? Holy crap—I’m gonna be a dad!”

There’s a flash of panic under the joy, a storm behind the smile, but he leans into it, presses his forehead against yours, and whispers, “I’m scared. But I want this—with you.”

Grover Underwood :

Cue the tears. So many happy tears.

He gasps, little goat ears twitching in surprise. “You’re—pregnant?!” Then the realization hits—and he just bursts into joyful sobbing.

“This is the most beautiful moment I’ve ever experienced—and I once watched a patch of wildflowers bloom in under two seconds!”

Grover drops to his knees, places his hands gently on your stomach, eyes misty. “Hey, little one. I’m your satyr dad-friend. I promise to keep you safe, teach you about trees, and love your amazing mom with all my heart.”

Connor Stoll :

“You’re pranking me, aren’t you? …Wait. You’re not.”

Connor’s face scrunches up in classic suspicion the second you say, “I’m pregnant.”

He squints. “Is this payback for the glitter bomb incident? Because if it is, I respect it, but also—WAIT, are you serious?”

When he realizes you’re not joking, his mouth falls open. For once in his life, Connor Stoll is speechless.

Then? The smile comes. Wide. Wild. Ridiculous. And somehow soft around the edges.

“I’m gonna be a dad? Like, a real one? That’s… insane. And awesome. And a little terrifying.”

He presses his forehead to yours and laughs under his breath. “Looks like someone’s finally gonna out-prank me. Better start hiding the whoopee cushions now.”

Travis Stoll :

“Well, there goes our sleep schedule forever—AND I COULDN’T BE HAPPIER.”

Travis drops whatever’s in his hands (probably something illegal or half-exploded) and runs over like you just said you won the lottery.

“WE’RE HAVING A KID?!”

He shouts it across the camp like an excited camp counselor. People start clapping. Some are crying. Connor’s already planning baby’s first prank.

Travis hugs you tightly, then drops to his knees to talk to your stomach: “Hi, tiny human. I’m your dad. I’m a bit of a disaster, but I make great pancakes. Also, you already won the lottery because your mom’s the best.”

Then he looks up, softer than you’ve ever seen him: “I promise I’ll be the kind of dad who always makes you laugh—even when life gets scary. Just like my mom tried to do for me.”

Luke Castellan :

His eyes widen, and something shifts in them—like light breaking through years of shadow.

“You’re… we’re having a baby?” His voice is stunned. “After everything I’ve done… you still chose me?”

He walks over, takes your hand carefully, reverently, like it’s made of starlight.

“I’ll protect you both. I swear it. No gods, no monsters—nothing touches this family.”

Then, quieter: “Maybe this is my second chance.”

Will Solace :

Will’s golden eyebrows lift, and he goes completely still.

“You’re pregnant?”

You nod, and for a second, his healer instincts kick in—checking your pulse, asking if you’ve had nausea, if you’re eating well—before he stops, blinks, and fully processes it.

“Oh my gods,” he breathes, a slow, amazed smile blooming across his face. “We’re having a baby.”

Then, he just hugs you—gently, warmly, protectively. His voice is full of awe. “That little soul is going to grow up surrounded by so much light.”

Nico Di Angelo (req):

He freezes—completely.

At first, Nico just stares at you, face unreadable. Silence hangs like a shadow. You start to worry—did you break him?

Then he looks down at his hands. “I never thought... I’d get to have something like this.” His voice is quiet, raw.

“Something good. Something alive.”

He steps forward slowly, touches your hand like you might disappear. “I don’t know how to be a father,” he murmurs. “But I want to try. With you.”

And then, for the first time in what feels like forever, he smiles.

Jason Grace :

The stoic Roman exterior cracks—and the softest boy peeks out.

He’s sitting, reviewing paperwork for Camp Jupiter, when you tell him. His pen stops mid-sentence.

“You’re…pregnant?”

You nod.

He stands slowly, walks toward you, and falls to his knees. One hand touches your stomach. The other touches his own heart.

“I never thought I’d get to have something normal—something beautiful.” He looks up at you with a fierce, reverent love.

“I’ll be the kind of father who earns this blessing. Every day.”

Frank Zhang :

Total deer-in-headlights moment—but pure tenderness follows.

Frank chokes on his tea. “What? PREGNANT?!”

He turns beet red, literally drops his cup, and then just stares at you in stunned silence. Then:

“I mean—I’m happy! I’m SO happy! I just—wow—I didn’t expect… me? A dad?”

His arms wrap around you in this big, warm, slightly awkward bear hug, holding you like you’re the most precious thing in the world.

“I’ll protect you. And the baby. Always. Even if I have to turn into a lion every single day.”

Leo Valdez :

Cue the nervous rambling—and the biggest grin you’ve ever seen.

“Okay, okay, okay—so like, tiny human, half you, half me, maybe with fire powers? That’s wild. That’s—wait, you’re serious, right? This isn’t some kind of weird demigod prank?”

When you nod, he freezes… and then suddenly yells, “YES!” into the air like he just beat an evil dragon with a wrench. He starts pacing, ideas already swirling.

“Okay, I’m building the baby the safest, coolest crib ever. Like—floating. And fireproof. And maybe plays calming lullabies? Wait, is that a thing?”

You laugh, and Leo just stares at you with awe. “You're growing our future, tesoro… That's magic.”

Octavian : (EUGHHH)

“Are you telling me… we created a legacy?”

When you tell him, Octavian freezes mid-sentence—he was probably ranting about political reform or inspecting an offering to Jupiter. His eyes widen, blue and calculating, scanning your expression to confirm you’re serious.

Then?

The world falls silent.

His voice lowers, thoughtful and trembling at the edges. “A child. Our child. Born of power. Born of prophecy.”

He moves toward you with a strange reverence, like you’ve suddenly become holy. His hand hesitantly grazes your stomach, eyes unreadable.

“I was never meant to build an empire alone,” he says quietly. “This child… they’ll carry my name. My strength. But with your heart.”

For a moment, the mask of control drops—and you see something raw and rare: fear. Hope. Humanity.

“I swear,” he whispers, “they won’t be alone like I was.”

Then the cold confidence slides back into place as he smirks faintly. “Also—if anyone tries to put my kid in a Praetor election, I’m burning the Senate down.”

[froggibus]

Me again! Surprise, not Kurt!

May I request headcanons for rivals to lovers with Jason Todd?

— Rivals - Jason Todd

Pairing: Jason Todd/Red Hood x gn! vigilante! reader

Genre: headcanons, fluff?

Summary: there's a new vigilante on the street, and they've made themself busy being the bane of Red Hood's existence

CW: vigilante reader, robbery/theft, canon typical violence, intimidation, fear gas, v brief mention of sex trafficking, Batfamily jumpscares, typical stuff for Gotham

hello my beautiful amazing incredible fwren :) thank you for requesting this, it was sm fun to write! i hope you enjoy & have a really good day <3

you are a colossal pain in Jason’s ass, and you have been since the first night you met

a random—presumably civilian—running around in the dead of night, taking his targets? yeah, Jason is pissed

he’d laughed when he saw you that night, ‘no way the Bat is gonna let some rando run around’, and simply bided his time until you were off the streets

except that time never comes, and are you actually…cleaning up the streets?

he wonders if maybe Bruce simply doesn’t know about you, paying his adoptive father a begrudging visit and casually slipping it into conversation

imagine his fucking surprise when he shrugs it off and claims you’ve been holding your own just fine

Jason is livid, and if Batman won’t get you off the streets, Red Hood will

your first confrontation is terrifying

you’d never technically set out to be a vigilante, it was something that had just happened

originally, you were just on the hunt for a group of particularly nasty robbers who had broken into your home and ransacked the place

but that group had just led to another which led to another—and lo and behold, here you are every night

you’re not an idiot—you know the Bats run Gotham’s vigilante underworld, but if you can help them out by taking out a few low-level lackeys (and get your stuff back in the process), why not?

it’s simply bad luck and being at the wrong place at the wrong time that puts you on Hood’s radar and has your list of targets combining with his

you’re simply finishing tying up some goon dressed like the Riddler (presumably one of his lackeys, but you can never be too sure) to a lamppost when there’s a soft thud behind you

you feel his presence before he even casts a shadow, spinning around with a knife in your hand to face your attacker

Please be Nightwing, please be Batgirl—fuck, you’ll even take Red Robin

tonight is not your lucky night, you realize when you come face to face with Red Hood

“What are you doing?” his voice from under the helmet is honestly terrifying

despite all of your effort, all of your training, and the many, many large men you’ve put behind bars recently, you find yourself shrinking back

“Well?!”

you swallow and suddenly the idea of retiring forever doesn’t seem so bad—but you’ve come so far, and you can’t let him of all people drive you away

“Your job,” you snap. “Better than you, I might add.”

your heart is utterly pounding in your chest. there’s no way you just spoke to Red Hood of all people like that

he laughs, but there’s no humour behind it

he clicks the safety on the glock in his hand and tucks it into his holster, stepping towards you until he’s close enough that you can smell the blood and sweat on his skin

“I want you to listen really carefully.” 

you raise your eyebrows from behind your mask

“You’re going to go home, and you’re going to stay the fuck out of my way. Clear?”

“Crystal,” is all you manage to say before he’s running off into the night

since that day, you’ve made it your personal mission to be as much of a pain in his ass is possible

you show up every time he finds a new target, you fuck with his grappling hooks and wires (leading to at least one bad fall that had Dick in tears), you even insert yourself into his family’s life

Jason was an idiot if he thought threats and brute force would work on you, and now he’s paying the price

He almost pleads with Dick to get rid of you after a particularly rough night, only for the blue clad vigilante to shrug it off

your next interaction with him goes about as well as the first

he’s leaving a seemingly abandoned warehouse after beating you to a target, feeling particularly pleased with himself, when he feels his wire goes slack

not this shit again

he manages to catch and brace himself on a nearby rooftop, eyes darting around to find you sitting on the building he was grappling to, laughing your ass off

“There are plenty of crooks in Gotham, stay the hell away from mine.” 

“What, did you call dibs or something?”

“Dibs?” You can hear him scoff all the way from here, “are you a child?”

you’re not sure if it’s his tone or his words, but something about that sets you off and before you can think, you’re making your way down to him

“Do I look like a child?”

Jason’s glad for his helmet so you can’t see where he’s looking—because with a body like yours, you certainly do not look like a child

but any lust he feels towards you is drowned out by sheer anger and frustration

“That’s what I thought,” you smirk, and then you’re tumbling off the building and disappearing into the night

Jason resists the urge to punch a wall. Random vigilante 1, Jason 0.

when Jason doesn’t see you for a few weeks, he can’t help but feel like he’s won

but then paranoia sets in and he thinks this must be another ploy, that you’re hiding in the shadows and waiting for him 

that’s what leads him to track you down, watching you fight off some low rate car jacker

he watches you fight, tracks each movement of your body, and he’s kinda impressed at—is that a bruise? 

he’s dropping from his vantage point the moment he sees the mark peaking out from your domino mask 

the car thief sees him and runs off into the night, leaving the two of you alone 

“I had that,” you say and wipe blood away from your mouth 

Jason cringes at the sight of your bruise up close

he’s never seen you injured before—he’s never even seen you take a hit from someone, you’ve always been too fast

he’s taken some bad hits both in his time as Robin and as Hood, but something about your injury has turmoil brewing inside of him 

“You got hit.”

You look up at him through tired eyes. “I’m sure you must be happy about that.”

“Who was it?”

you take a deep breath and consider not telling him, but you’re sure the Bat or someone else will eventually 

“Scarecrow. Wrong place at the wrong time.”

any trace of amusement Jason felt is wiped away. is that why you’ve been gone for so long? you were dealing with the volatile effects of Fear Gas? 

he almost feels bad for the relief he felt in your absence.

“I should go. Making up for lost time and all that.”

you’re entirely surprised when Red Hood grabs your wrist. you’re not sure what to expect—anger, advice? 

“You’re not cut out for this life.”

you break free of his grip without a second word, running away like that didn’t just break something inside of you

you actively avoid Red Hood after that—any hope you’d had that your tricks would humble him is gone

of course, it’s impossible to stay hidden from him forever and your paths cross again when you’re stopping known sex traffickers at the docks

somehow you managed to beat him here, which is bad news for you given there’s upwards of a dozen men here 

you would never admit it but you’re grateful when you hear the sounds of his guns. It's almost…comforting? 

you try to slip away at the end of the fight but he stops you in your tracks, his big arms crossed over his chest

“You’re avoiding me.”

“And what about it?”

He looks almost surprised at your retort. “Why?”

you laugh if only in exhaustion with his antics. “Are you kidding me? You’re an asshole.”

Jason’s grateful for his mask so you don’t see how stunned he is. yeah, he’s an asshole—but that never stopped you before, so why now?

“I—”

you bounce on your heels in anticipation about what he’s going to say next. I hate you? I think you’re an asshole too?

“I’m sorry.”

you choke on stunned silence. he’s sorry? of all things Red Hood has been called—vicious, murderer, antihero—he’s never been sorry

“I should go,” he taps awkwardly at his ear, “The Bat’s calling.”

he leaves you responsible for calling the cops and rounding up the group of traffickers strewn around the dock

ever since that night, Red Hood lives rent free in your mind. every minute of every day (yes, even at work), his stupid shiny mask and smug attitude haunts your memories

it’s the sincerity in his apology that confuses you the most. you hate him, god you hate him so much that you don’t even hate him at all

the two of you fall into a begrudging agreement after that night 

you don’t bother him, he doesn’t bother you and if (heaven forbid) you’re tracking the same target, you put your problems aside and take them down together

the night when you realize he has feelings for you is rainy and cold, a summer storm moving in above gotham and plaguing the skies 

every night this past week has been spent with Red Hood, trying to track down some mysterious rogue that was allegedly recruiting kids off the street for his cause

it’s that mission that brings you both face to face with Scarecrow

you’re brought back to the night of your fight—to the dose you had taken and the horrors you’d seen 

and the complete fucking beating you took

it’s those memories that have you jumping out of the way when he releases a dose of his gas, desperately jumping to safety behind a car

Hood does the same, albeit slower than you, and ducks his head in next to you

he coughs through the mask and that’s when you realize he didn’t fully clear the gas—and now it’s trapped inside with him

“Take off your helmet.” You command

“What?”

“Just—trust me. I’ll get him but you need to breathe.”

the shock you feel when he peels off his helmet is nothing compared to the warmth you feel knowing he trusts you

you dip away to go fight Scarecrow before you get to see his face, ready to give your greatest foe the ass-kicking of his life

it’s not so much of an ass kicking as it is fending him off until his face turns white with fear and Batman himself emerges from behind you

he’s got it from here, you think, and rush back to Hood’s side only to see Nightwing tending to him

seeing Hood’s face for the first time is like having water dumped over you

he’s ruggedly handsome with blue eyes and dark hair streaked with grey

“Is he gonna be okay?”

Nightwing perks up at the sound of your voice. “He’s fine,” he nudges the vigilante in his arms, “hey, Hood, your friend’s here.”

he says it teasingly, like the way a brother would to their younger sibling

Hood offers you a weak wave, his head resting on Nightwing’s shoulder

“I missed you,” he slurs

“I…I missed you too.”

his cheeks turn pink and you genuinely cannot believe your eyes—Red Hood is blushing

“Do you guys need help? I can take him home, or—or something.”

“We’ve got it from here.” You flinch at the sound of Batman’s voice. God, when did he get behind you?

fucking terrifying.

you’re hesitant but let them leave with your partner, staying put until they load him into the Batmobile and speed away down Gotham’s roads

it’s a few days before you see him again, each passing hour painful and lined with worry

you’re taking a break on Wayne Enterprises, your feet dangling off the side of the tower while you eat a cheeseburger

“Hey”

you no longer cringe at the sound of his voice, instead raising a hand to beckon him closer

he sits down with you on the edge, close enough that his thigh touches yours

“Glad to see that you’re okay.”

“Thanks to you,” he says, and you can tell he doesn’t thank people often. 

“Thank Nightwing.”

He snorts and you’re tempted to ask what’s so funny until he says

“They told me you made a good call with the helmet. Said the dose would’ve been ten times worse if I’d kept it on.”

“I just didn’t want you hurt,” you admit.

you’re ready for him to tease or to shrug off your feelings, but he does something that surprises you even more

he reaches a hand out to brush at the fresh bruise on your cheek

“I don’t like seeing you hurt,” he says and his voice is so quiet that it sends shockwaves through you.

“Hood—”

he cuts you off by rubbing his gloved thumb over your lip

you watch as he pulls off his helmet, resting it on the ledge next to him

“Jason,” he says. “Call me Jason.”

if you thought he looked handsome when he was high on Fear Gas, he looks practically ethereal now

“Y/n.” 

your voice is quiet as you hold out a hand for him to shake. his grip is firm and his hand lingers too long and god, did it get hotter outside?

and then Hood—Jason is leaning in and pressing his lips against yours, a gloved hand grabbing at the nape of your neck to pull your closer

he pulls away with a smirk that has your heart rate spiking, “so,” he looks out on the city, “should we get to it?”

thanks so much for reading! i hope you have a great day <3

masterlist | dc masterlist

[reomikagekin]

What if Ryusui with a reader that just... doesn't really know how to express gratitude?

like. I do not process any emotions well, but I usually mask decently & am friendly. but one thing I CAN'T replicate well for some reason is gratitude for unexpected gifts. I appreciate all gifts i get, but I'm pretty sure I always just seem like "oh thanks... an avocado..."

I don't. purposefully try to be ungrateful or anything. I wear clothes people give me (as long as they're not Sensory Hell), jewelry goes in My Collection Of Shiny, I'll draw in sketchbooks, cuddle stuffed animals, etc, and I REFUSE to get rid of anything that was given to me as a gift lmao

i just think Ryusui trying to woo a reader who's default reaction is just a calm "oh- uhm- thanks-" would be a funny premise.

"I don't think reader likes my gifts :("

"... they hissed at me like a feral cat when I suggested using the jewelry for science-"

A Dragon’s Greatest Challenge

Ryusui Nanami was, in most things, a man of certainty.

Business, politics, exploration — all required clarity of vision, confidence, drive. And those were qualities he had in spades.

Wooing others? Please — effortless. He’d once made a career of it. Lavish gifts, charming words, the right timing — it was practically a science. An art form he had long since mastered.

But you…

You were a mystery wrapped in calm tones and polite smiles, and it drove him mad.

He’d noticed you early on in the Kingdom of Science’s growing community. You had a sharp eye, a steady presence — friendly enough, good at playing along, but something about you always felt… held back. Not distant, just controlled.

And Ryusui liked puzzles.

So naturally, he began his campaign: small, thoughtful gifts. To show you he was paying attention. A way to say “I see you.”

The First Gift It was a bracelet — handmade from golden threads, small beads and shells, woven with care. Light enough not to be irritating, elegant in a subtle way.

He presented it with a grand flourish, because of course he did.

“For the most intriguing one among us,” he said, flashing a grin. “A token of admiration.”

You blinked up at him, startled.

A beat of silence.

“Oh. Uhm— thanks.”

A quiet voice. No flush, no spark of surprise. Just that small, soft phrase — and then you tucked the bracelet carefully into your pocket.

Ryusui stood there for a long moment, brows lifting. That was… not the reaction he expected.

The Second Gift Maybe you didn’t like jewelry? He pivoted. This time: a rare fruit, sweet and juicy, one that took effort to find on the coastline.

He found you near the workshop, set the fruit before you with a wink. “For you,” he said, tone playful. “A delicacy worthy of a discerning palate.”

Again — that blink. A pause.

“Oh. Thanks. I’ll eat it later.”

You picked it up and moved on, leaving Ryusui standing there again, dumbfounded.

The Third Gift Determined now, Ryusui crafted a beautiful leather-bound sketchbook, the cover embossed with a dragon — his signature motif.

He handed it to you with a note, a dramatic tilt of his head: “For the one whose eyes always see what others miss.”

And… the same reaction.

“Oh. Thanks.”

You took it gently and walked away.

By the fourth attempt, Ryusui was sprawled dramatically across a log in camp, arm slung over his face.

“They don’t like my gifts,” he moaned to Senku, Chrome, and Minami. “It’s tragic! No joy, no delight — nothing! Doomed, before I even begin!”

Senku didn’t even look up. “You’re being ridiculous.”

Chrome tilted his head. “I saw them using the sketchbook earlier.”

Ryusui shot upright. “What?!”

Chrome pointed: across camp, there you were, sitting beneath a tree, completely absorbed in your drawing — the dragon sketchbook open on your lap, bracelet glinting on your wrist.

Minami crossed her arms. “Maybe your ego’s too big to see it, but they like your gifts. They just don’t show it the way you expect.”

Ryusui stared at you for a long moment.

You weren’t faking. You weren’t being polite out of obligation. You were using the gifts, wearing them. Treating them with care.

A grin tugged at his mouth. “How fascinating…”

From then on, he adjusted his strategy. No more grand gestures, no big expectations. He would give quietly — and watch, and learn.

Weeks later, he left a delicate necklace in your work kit, with a simple note: “For no reason but my own greed — to see you shine.”

He didn’t approach you about it. Simply waited.

Later, he spotted you — the necklace around your neck, no fuss, no words.

That was better than any blushing thanks.

But the real breakthrough came soon after.

Ryusui was helping Senku test a new metallurgical process, in need of a conductor for the circuit. He happened to spot, neatly tucked in your box of personal things, a few of the necklaces and trinkets he’d given you.

“Mind if I borrow this for science?” he called lightly, reaching.

You froze mid-step. Your gaze sharpened. And then — you hissed.

An actual hiss. Shoulders hunched, eyes narrowed, arms wrapping protectively around your collection.

Ryusui blinked. Then — he laughed. Loud and full of life.

“Oh-ho! So that’s how it is! A dragon guarding their hoard!” He beamed. “You do like them — you treasure them! I knew it!”

You flushed, but stubbornly didn’t deny it — simply gathering your things and tucking them safely away.

From that point on, it became a private game.

Ryusui still brought you gifts: small, thoughtful, useful. A rare stone for your collection. New cloth, smooth and soft. A book of pressed flowers.

He never pressed for thanks. But each time, he watched.

When he saw a bracelet appear on your wrist, or you used a tool he’d repaired for you, or found the fruit he’d left tucked in your bag eaten the next morning — it thrilled him.

You weren’t cold. You weren’t ungrateful.

You were simply… someone whose heart worked in quieter ways.

And that — to Ryusui — made you all the more fascinating. A new kind of treasure, one he had to learn how to read. And he would — gladly.

Months Later Sitting beneath the stars on the deck of Perseus, you glanced up at Ryusui where he leaned against the railing, arms crossed, watching the sea.

“… You’re still giving me gifts,” you said softly.

He looked down at you, grin lazy but warm. “Of course. I’m greedy, remember? Greedy for everything beautiful.”

You fiddled with your bracelet — one of his first gifts. “I’m… not good at showing thanks. I do appreciate them. A lot.”

Ryusui’s grin softened. “I know.”

A pause. He reached out, gently flicking the dragon pendant at your throat.

“I see you wear them. Guard them like treasure. That says more than words, my dear.”

You blinked at him — then, for once, smiled. Small. Real.

“…Thanks.”

And for Ryusui Nanami — king of the new world, sailor of seas and hearts — that was worth more than all the riches in the world.

[mortmere]

Lupine Bond (oil pastel painting)

Wolf pack behaviour among Arctic lupines. Ray is very soon going to be licked directly on the mouth. Who gets there first, Dief or Fraser?

Notes under the cut (they're long; I can't write anything short!)

Another day, another finished WIP - or rather, a new piece reworked from a nearly abandoned digital WIP. This idea had sat in the "rough photomanip" phase of my digital painting process for two or three years and was going to stay there because I was unable to find a usable reference photo for Ray (the one I had was blurry and entirely differently lit than everything else in the picture). There wasn't much else in the manip than the character references plopped on a stock photo of two guys sitting in a random field, and then I had a bunch of separate photos of Arctic lupines.

After drawing Dief admiring cherry blossoms with oil pastels earlier this year, I knew I wanted to paint the field of Arctic lupines with oil pastels, too, and of course I also wanted to see how these rough manips would work as references for oil pastel paitings, and how easily I could combine stuff from other reference pics on the spot. I'm happy to say it worked pretty well - this only took me three hours and didn't feel very hard - not that I was being very careful with their arms etc. I did suspect working like this was going to mean compromises in character likeness, and I wasn't wrong. :D Their faces are an inch and a half high on the A4 page, so not much room to fiddle with the blunt pastel sticks there ("CKR without a map" was a phrase that I repeated in my mind while I was working on Ray's face, wiping everything away and trying again - then I decided to keep everything really vague). But the lupines were just as pleasant to draw as I thought they would be! And the lupine creature in the middle, of course. 

You won't get through these notes without some speculation why lupines are called lupines. What do they have to do with wolves? There seems to be two theories. Some sources say Romans thought the plant was toxic to wolves, and that's it. The other theory is that lupines were considered predator-like because they can grow in very poor soil where other plants can't: people assumed they had robbed the soil of whatever other plants would need for growing. Sadly, where I live (Finland) lupines are just like that: they spread from gardens into wild nature decades ago and have now invaded huge areas, replacing many native plants. I think lupines are really beautiful in bloom - they are an essential part of early summer landscapes for me; the best time is right now! - but hardly anything else grows where they have taken root, and they're also very harmful to bumblebees. I was relieved that I could put my aesthetic love of lupines into this picture with a good conscience, because Arctic lupine is native to Canada - it is actually considered to enrich the soil and recommended as a garden plant, too. 

[supremefloof]

ep 12 thoughts!!

WOOOOO FIGHT SCENES!!!!!!!!!

this is so interesting!! is this like the police force...? made by the commission... also Bowa says she doesn't want to be a "commission suit".

crack theory that's X's arm and he shot her

I mean the arms do match... do you see the vision

somebody give X a gun

i agree x is very handsome and strong :3

man every time you see Micky again it just gets nailed in how yucky he is.

oh my gosh the fear people... I wonder if this is an Aether labs researcher. the design is so unsettling 😭it's like a slug fused with the boston dynamics robot dog

and Queen can fly now! it seems her powers are to set rules within an area, to fly, to summon spears, and to command the spears to do things like home in on people.

this really feels chilling every time somebody vaporizes someone lost to Fear. like- that's a person. it's been shown you can take someone out of this state.

WHAT IS THIS? it seems DOS is trying to investigate X and his ties with other heroes? ...why is wreck on this screen? who is NINE? could that badass looking woman on the left be the woman who shares the billboard with X in ep 1?

Nine is a "rebel hero". does this mean like a vigilante/rogue hero? suspected ally of X?

this chart is generally confusing. does this mean Rock has a poor relationship with X or a poor relationship with DOS because both work. why would you suspect nine to be your ally. uhhhh somebody smarter than me solve this please

I like how there's powerscaling LMAO. Wreck gets a grade of A. Nine is S- (maybe this guy is in the top 10? or close?) X gets a grade of SSS.

THIS FIGHT SCENE IS INCREDIBLEEEEE. ITS SEVEN AND A HALF MINUTES LONG??!!

oh my gawddddd. they knew we would be sad about not seeing a Queen vs X fight and gave us THIS instead!! pure eye candy.

it's so long too, absolutely beautiful, love the use of being conveniently in a place with many easily destroyed shipping containers and cranes and things

I REALLY like Bowa as a character now. this is so insanely tragic to me. she's been stewing in Fear for years - but like Trust, this doesn't necessarily just seem like fear. she truly has worked twice as hard as anyone else! she is attacking in rage, yes, but the animators really made sure to show that she's also SMART.

she's got excellent battle prowess, figuring out how to work around an overpowered ability of setting rules, and is more experienced than Queen. she's DANGEROUS and she has a goal that you completely believe she could deliver on. she wants to kill Queen. she wants to stop her from becoming X. and on one of those fronts, she succeeds.

When Queen tells her she can't even go to the tournament anymore and THAT's what takes her out of the Fear...sobbing...

it seems like getting Fear inflicted on you first changes your eye color before changing your shape to be some monster. and it can last quite a long time. I wonder if your Trust Value affects how this process works.

Bowa is extremely strong with Fear, but where is the fear coming from?

Queen almost dies and takes an entire year to recover omg. the damage that heroes can cause to the environment and each other is no joke. the collateral alone probably means everybody has hero insurance or something

Cyan asks if something happened in Queen's childhood. Queen says no. QUEEN YOU ARE A LIARRRR I HAVE SEEN YOUR PV

queen is a car girlie!!

and big johnny makes his appearance!! although loli's episodes are next so hm.

[taibami]

✷ You think it's finally time to visit your lover after a hundred years of no physical contact. | 1.2k | cw: ed x f!reader, reader is described as a vampire

The bar is quiet, as the lateness of night comes by. The students began to pack their things and made their way out, until there's no people left but Rui and Lyca.

“Hey doggy, do me a favour and grab me some stacks? I'm sure you know the place already” Rui smiled at the werewolf, who huffs in annoyance, clearly not pleased with how the male called him.

“Tch. I told you I'm not a doggy! Stop calling me that. And sure, I'll grab some stacks from the basement. The same plant, right?”

“Yup, yup! Just grab a few and be careful, ‘kay? Can't risk having a mess down there” Rui winked which Lyca just shrugged off with ‘whatever’ before going down to the basement to grab a stack of plants.

Rui sighed, shoulders dropping in the process. but he quickly turns back to his tasks.

While he was cleaning, Rui hummed through the silence of the bar─that is until he heard a knock, followed by the sound of the door opening

“I'm sorry but we're closed─”

“Good evening gentleman, does Edward reside here?”

A woman dressed in black and deep red clothing that screams elegance entered upon the bar. Rui took a good minute to admire her beauty. the colors that compliments her skin color, the black nails and pale hands that's decorated in jewellery─it is no doubt that this woman is a vampire.

‘Could she be…?’

“Edward? You mean Edward ha─”

Before Rui answered your question, a growl was heard beside you. There, stoof Lyca, glaring at you with his claws out.

“Oi blond gigolo. Who's this?” He asked, eyes never breaking the eye contact within you and him.

“Lyca put your claw down─”

“There's no need to be all defensive, Lyca.”

A deep voice interrupted Rui (yet again) as Ed step down the stairs, earning everyone in the room's attention.

Ed’s eyes flickered towards you, and a rush of warmth spread through his undead heart. “Are my eyes deceiving little old me or is that my wife standing over there?”

You chuckled at his words, making your way towards him, wrapping your arms around his waist─pulling him into a hug. In which he reciprocates in return.

“You know, for someone who hasn't visited me for a hundred years, you sure cling to me like your heart didn't turn cold” he teased. You broke the hug, lifting your chin to take a good look at his unchanged features.

“Uhm, care to explain?”

“Oh shut it Ed. You know I'm out there fulfilling my duties, unlike you.” you emphasized on the word ‘you’ made Ed sighed in defeat.

Rui finally broke his silence as he and Lyca stared at you two dumbfoundedly at the whole situation.

You turned towards them, finally acknowledging their presence, a smile making its way to your face as you introduced yourself, “Forgive me for being forgetful of the introductions. I'm Y/n Hart. Given by my last name, I'm Ed’s wife.”

You watched as their faces morphed into shock, You heard Ed sighed for the second time beside you.

It looks like you have a lot to catch up.

──

“So, let me get this straight. You have been together for the past two hundred years?!” Rui exclaimed, Snapping his head at ed with a pointed finger against him, “And you didn't tell us that you have a spouse with you!”

Ed dismissed the stares he's getting, “I was originally planning to tell you and Lyca but what's fun in that?”

“You-!”

Ed quickly drifted the attention to Lyca, who's staring at you quietly while you only smiled sweetly at him in return. “Is there something in my face Lyca?” You questioned.

"No. I was just surprised that moth-eaten casanova had a girl with him." He huffed

"Wife, Lyca. Wife." Ed corrected

You laughed at Lyca’s words, finding him quite adorable for someone who's a werewolf. “I've heard so much about you through Ed’s letter, at first I thought you would be like those fierce wolves that I encountered but it seems like you're not what I expected to be” you explained.

It's true though. Throughout your travelling, you've encountered many werewolves before. Safe to say you always don't go well with them.

As you recall your journey a hundred years ago, Ed found himself staring at you. No matter how many years have passed, you still look ethereal in his eyes. Each night, he kept remembering the day you accepted his offer to spend the rest of your life together in eternity.

The nights you spent basking in eachother while the night is still young─he can't help but craved for those moments again.

Lyca narrowed his eyes towards Ed, who's staring at you with lovestruck eyes.

"stop staring at her weirdly. You moth-eaten cassanova."

"my, my... Can't a man stare at his beautiful wife?" Ed muttered in defeat

Rui sweatdropped at the scene. "Lyca, I don't want to say this for Ed's side, but It's pretty normal for inlove people to stare at each other." he explained

"But how come she isn't staring back at him? She probably dont love him." Lyca pointed out. Erupting a series of laughter from you.

Ed let out a dramatic wince. placing his hand over his chest with a defeated expression. "Must you laugh at me like that my dear?" He shot you a sympathetic look

You calmed down for a bit, wiping the small tears that gathered in the corners of your eyes, "I can't help but find this kid funny my dear. Oh to be young and innocent again.." you sighed.

"Yikes... you two really fit for each other.." Rui sweatdropped. he can't help but picture you and Edward together.

He doesn't want to admit it but you and Ed are truly meant for each other.

──

After some little bit of chitchat, you and Ed made your way back to his room after he grew impatient and complained about how his joints are starting to ache.

The moment the doors are closed, he wasted no time attaching himself on you─his mouth leeching on your neck as he nib the skin and slightly grazing his teeth on you.

The contact made you shudder, shivers running down your spine as you try to get a hold of yourself. While he continues to shower you with tender kisses.

“You have no idea how much i missed you, My dear. My nights are boring without you here with me.” he murmured against your ear. You shot him an apologetic look, “I'm sorry, I've been busy doing my research these past few years. Speaking of research, I got what you asked me for.”

You took a small bottle hiding in your back, handing it towards him. You watched as he slowly grinned, eyes glowing in amusement as he observed the bottle in his hand as he inspect it, with the light reflecting against the bottle.

Your eyes narrowed at the bottle, staring at the piece of flower inside it. You turned your head towards him, “it's about that girl's curse am I right?”

He let out a low chuckle before taking your hand and place a kiss on it.

“clever as ever, my love.”

an: first time posting after leaving caratblr ⎛⎝( ` ᢍ ´ )⎠⎞ᵐᵘʰᵃʰᵃ taking requests but please read rules first!! Thanking @/kamurais for proofreading this!!

[onelastchorus]

fugue tingyun and phainon have such similarities in their design philosophies and i think there is a subtle foreshadowing that can be extracted from this that i really really love.

tingyun is one of my favorite hsr characters, she's so dear to me and her design as fugue is my favorite in the game. i think its so thoughtful and detailed and beautiful. the imagery is incredible. but! not what i want to talk about. sort of.

in general, hoyoverse love splitting a character in two in order to melt them back into one as a process of character growth (e.g. dan heng, sunday, march 7th probably, even genshin's wanderer.) but tingyun is a unique example of this.

phantylia, as a powerful heliobi took tingyun's identity to plant destruction on the luofu. ruan mei was able to revive her because "[phantylia's] desire to claim everything about [tingyun] meant she needed time, so [tingyun was] spared instant annihilation." (2.7) tingyun's survival hinged on phantylia taking her identity and having that eventual confrontation with the nameless and the lotus flowers phantylia used in her attacks would become a major motif in tingyun's design as fugue.

to combat the destruction rooted in her, ruan mei modified her body, giving her numerous extra tails that literally form a lotus flower in her splash art. just as a lotus grows several feet through the muddiest of waters to reach the sun, tingyun survived, living alongside the scars of destruction buried within her.

so what does this have to do with phainon? well, alongside her extra tails, tingyun has one other major scar of phantylia, the golden bloom along her shoulder. which REALLY reminds me of phainon's markings on his neck.

and this is what made me think about the similarities of phainon and tingyun. two people living in parallel to forces of destruction who share their features. i'm thinking specifically of the flame reaver's weapon, the crescent moon and sun motifs that phainon also exhibit in his playable form and of course, the sun marking on his neck.

these feel so similar to tingyun's lotus flowers. what are the possibilities that phainon's markings are a physical representation of his connection to the destruction, his connection to the flame reaver, evidence of the fact that his fate is cyclical and the pain and destruction he is going to experience and inflict are already embedded inside him.

anyway. is this me making one of my favorite characters relevant where she's not? perhaps. but i think this is great foreshadowing and theming and i really love it. phainon and tingyun would be great friends i think.

"survival or destruction is no longer a choice for you. they both now grow along the same path." - ruan mei to tingyun, 2.7

[darkmatilda]

I love diva sm that I thought about her while getting my eyebrows laminated today… if diva ever got her brows laminated (or a perm bc it’s pretty much the same) spence would definitely explain the chemical process ☝️🤓 and tell her not to get her brows/hair wet as not to risk deactivating the ammonium thioglycolate but diva totally already knows this because she is 1. a literal chemist and 2. has definitely seen legally blonde

oh at this point the diva reader brainrot is so real 😭 and i mean that in the most affectionate way i totally relate bc i think about her a lot too. totally agree he’d absolutely try to impress her with all his nerdy knowledge while pretending he’s saying it casually in a chill, nonchalant way and she’d just be like 🤨 wrong girl sweetheart i already know all that. and i feel like that kind of convo would come up between them all the time whenever skincare or beauty stuff was the topic💅🏼yes shes definitely seen legally blonde — both parts — more than once !

[wrestlersownmyheart]

"Yeet Of Fate" Chapter 14 (Jey Uso X Female Reader)

Title: Yeet Of Fate Pairing: Jey Uso X Reader Summary: When you, an aspiring author, decide to take your skills to the world of wrestling, you decide to shadow and tag along with a couple of wrestlers to learn more about the sport for your upcoming book debut. None other than the Royal Rumble winner, Jey Uso, is the male wrestler you will be working with, and needless to say, that makes you nervous. You tell yourself, things will stay platonic. You tell yourself that…

Jey Uso is at the top of his game, the last thing he needs is a fan trailing around after him and fan girling all over the place. He wants to do his job, bask in the glory of it and call it a day. Not have to answer questions all day long from a wannabe writer. That's how he feels, until he meets Y/N face to face. She isn't what he expected. And he doesn't like to be wrong. As beautiful as she is… He will keep things platonic. He tells himself that…

Disclaimers: I own nothing or anyone associated or affiliated with WWE. I own only the original characters. This is just a fictional story that came from my imagination. Content/Trigger Warnings: Very slight violence toward a woman

Chapter 14

Six Months Later…

You were now seven months pregnant and found out rather early on that you were going to have twin boys. The thought frightened you because you didn't know how you'd manage to raise one child by yourself, let alone two. And not to mention the fact that they'd be the same age. All kinds of scenarios had gone through your head.

For instance, you asked yourself, what if both babies cried to eat at the same time?

What would you do?

Christina had brought up the possibility of adoption, but you couldn't do that. It wouldn't be fair to you or the babies. Or even to Jey, should he decide to be a part of the twins' lives at some point.

Which was another thing you worried about.

You knew he had the right to know about the babies, but you also couldn't bring yourself to contact him and tell him.

Not yet.

Gunther was also fast becoming a problem. He hadn't come by to visit you in a couple months, and luckily when he did, you'd worn baggy clothing that hid your ever growing belly, but you knew it was only a matter of time before he found out about the twins.

He informed you the last time he "visited", that he'd rented an apartment in your town.

He clearly wasn't planning on going anywhere for a while.

You'd heard he had been out for a couple of months with injuries, due to his match with Jey. Then he was to be suspended indefinitely for his conduct with you. So you had no idea when he would return to work, but you wished it would be soon. At least he'd be out of your hair part of the time.

The man would just not stop with his harassment. He was sending you flowers almost every day, along with, what you were sure he thought was charming little notes. And candy. And letters even. You trashed them all as they came.

Right now, you were in the process of dumping a flower-candy combo into the trash been at the side of your house, when Gunther's large silver SUV pulled into the driveway.

"Oh, God," you thought out loud, turning to head back into the house before he could bother you.

"Y/N!" He called, exiting the vehicle. "You're throwing away my gifts?" He demanded as he walked up to you.

You froze in fear.

Would this be the straw that broke the camel's back? Would he attack you again?

"Yes, I'm trashing them. I don't want them and I don't want you." Despite your fear, you kept a defiant air about you. You tilted your chin upward to show fake bravery. You noticed his gaze fall on your rounded stomach–rage entered his eyes.

Of course he would show up on a day when you were wearing a maternity tank top and your belly was on full display.

"You're pregnant?"

"Yes."

"When were you going to tell me?"

"Since it's none of your business, probably never."

He clenched his teeth and came closer to you, his hand shooting out and grabbing your slender wrist. Painfully so. You cried out in pain and tried to wrench yourself free.

"Let go of me, Gunther."

"You're mine," he growled, grasping even tighter and yanking you toward him. "Do you understand me? Mine."

You struggled to free your wrist, "Let me go!" Tears of indignation burned your eyes.

"If I can't have you, neither can he."

"He doesn't want me!" You screamed, trying to no avail to free your wrist. You were sick of Gunther ignoring the fact that Jey had only used you for sex. You were sick of him thinking he stood a shot with you.

At that moment, a dark SUV pulled up on the street and parked in front of your yard.

You couldn't see who was in the car for the tinted windows, but soon the doors opened, and out came Jimmy from the driver's seat, and Naomi from the passenger's seat. They stood for an instant staring at you in shock, and then at Gunther. Then they were hurrying forward to help you.

The shock of seeing them was too much, and you sank to your knees, a pain swelling in your stomach. You moaned and held your belly as you breathed, trying to ease the pain away. It was false labor. It was not time for the babies to get here yet, and you had been experiencing Braxton Hicks Contractions off and on, ever since about the four month mark.

"Stay back, baby," Jimmy told Naomi, keeping her back with his arm. He came forward some more and clenched his fists, ready to fight. Gunther still had a hold of your wrist and was not letting go.

"Let her go, Gunther," Jimmy snarled. "I don't know what you're doing here, and I don't care. Let. Her. Go."

Gunther stared at Jimmy for a moment, and then finally released your wrist. You huddled on the ground and rubbed where he'd gripped you. Another contraction hit you and you sobbed, leaning forward and holding your belly again.

Jimmy darted forward, as did Naomi, to check on you and see how you were. "Think long and hard about what I said, Y/N." Gunther spouted off. He gave Jimmy a hard stare, and then stalked off to his car. He was driving away in seconds.

"Okay, forget about him, okay, Y/N?" Jimmy said, placing his arms underneath your knees and behind your back. He lifted you and carried you toward the house. Naomi darted ahead and opened the door so he could carry you inside.

Once inside, Jimmy carried you through the foyer, and to the living room where he laid you on the sofa.

"Are you okay? Do we need to call an ambulance," Naomi asked softly.

You shook your head. "No, it's just Braxton Hicks Contractions–false labor. I have to calm down and they will stop. I've been to the ER with them twice and all they do is tell me to calm down and send me home."

Naomi reached forward and gave you a hug, "It'll be okay, Y/N. We've gotcha."

"I don't think it will be okay, Naomi," you sobbed, hugging her back. "Everything is so screwed up!"

"Were you planning to tell Jey?" Jimmy asked.

You knew he was referring to the babies. You shook your head and sobbed again, covering your face with your hands.

"Why weren't you going to tell him," Jimmy nearly demanded. You could understand how he felt to a degree, but you were hurt also.

"Because he doesn't want me, or anything to do with me." You cried out.

"I'm going to get you a glass of water," Naomi said standing back to her feet. "I'll be right back."

"Jimmy," you said softly. "He made it clear I was only a conquest. He came out and said it. Why would I want to tell him anything?"

Jimmy touched your shoulder. "I'm going to talk to him for you."

"No! Please!" You cried, visibly growing upset again.

Naomi rushed back in with the water and hands it to you. "Jimmy, don't upset her. She's got enough going on right now between the baby and Gunther."

"Babies. I'm having twin boys."

For an instant, Jimmy smiled softly. "I'm gonna be an uncle? To twins?"

You smiled in return, "Congratulations." But then your smile faded. "But, please don't tell him. I will, when the time is right. But, I just can't right now."

"I won't tell him," Jimmy answered. But, I'm telling him about Gunther pestering her, he thought to himself.

He never promised he wouldn't.

"What does Gunther want?" Naomi asked, sitting back down on the sofa on the other side of you.

"He is crazy. He wants me to go out with him. He liked that I was tough when he beat up on me. The sicko. He's even rented an apartment here so he can be close to me. He's really starting to scare me."

"You've got to tell Jey," Jimmy said. "He'll help you. We all will."

"I don't want his help, Jimmy."

"What if this is all one big misunderstanding," Naomi said. "What if Jey never meant what he said?"

"And what if he did?" You demanded, suddenly getting angry. "Why does everyone seem to think that I'm misunderstanding him? I was there! I heard and saw him! He doesn't care about me!" You sobbed again and covered your face with your hands as you wept.

Naomi pulled you into another hug, "It'll be okay, Y/N. We're here for you."

"I'm so scared," you cried, latching onto Naomi. "So scared!"

"It's going to be okay. I'm gonna stay with you tonight to make sure that you and the babies are okay."

You sniffled and nodded. "Thank you. I appreciate it."

"It's no problem, " Naomi said softly, patting your arm. "Let me go out to the car and grab my suitcase. I don't have a show for a couple of days, but I had my suitcase ready so I wouldn't forget it," she chuckled.

So, she and Jimmy went out to their car and she grabbed the suitcase.

"What are we gonna do?" Naomi asked.

"I'm gonna tell Jey about Gunther, that's what."

"But we promised-" Naomi started.

"We never promised to not tell Jey about Gunther," Jimmy said, tapping his temple with a smile. "We only promised to not tell him about the babies."

Naomi shook her head. "I think she'll still be upset."

"Well, she can't just hide everything from Jey. He has the right to know about the babies, even though we promised to not tell. He can still find out about them."

He unloaded his plan to Naomi.

"I'll tell Jey about Gunther, and Jey will go see her, yeah? And then he'll see her belly, and know about the babies."

Naomi thought the plan was brilliant, but was still concerned about how Y/N would take it.

Sighing, she took her suitcase into the house and Jimmy left to go find his brother.

I just hope you know what you're doing, she thought, as she rolled the suitcase through the foyer.

}i{}i{}i{}i{}i{

Jey had just gotten dressed after showering after the show. He ran a towel over his hair one last time and then stepped out of the shower room.

He was about to enter the hallway when he smacked right into someone.

"Jey, we need to talk." He heard his twin say. He looked up and saw that Jimmy had a worried expression on his face. His eyes were dark and serious.

"Okay."

They walked together to his dressing room and once they entered the large room, Jimmy shut the door behind them.

"What's this about, Uce?"

Jimmy looked him in the eye so he'd know how serious he was. "You need to go see Y/N."

Jey looked blankly at him. "Why would I want to do that?"

Jimmy looked exasperated. "Oh, I don't know. A number of reasons. You love her. You miss her. You're not the same without her. You're the one who hurt her. Oh, I got the winner here though. Gunther is after her again."

"GUNTHER'S WHAT?"

"Yeah I thought that would get your attention. Gunther's movin' in on your girl, Uce. The thing is, she doesn't like it. He's scaring her. He's rented an apartment in her town and everything. He had his hands on her this morning. I had to get him to leave her home. That should have been YOUR job. Wake up, bro. Wake up!"

Jey wasted no time, he began packing up his things in a hurry, not even folding them, he was just stuffing them into the suitcase. He did it all in silence. He was completely packed within three minutes.

"Let's go," Jimmy said, clapping his hands.

"Just me, Uce." Jey said. "I have to do this on my own."

"Okay, but I have to pick Naomi up. She stayed with her because-" He almost let it slip about Y/N pregnancy. "Because… she was so freaked out."

"Okay, pick Naomi up, but then scadaddle. I need some private time to talk to her." He looked at his watch. "How long does it take to get there from here?"

"It's about a six hour drive."

Jey cursed. "It'll be the middle of the night when we get there. I'll have to wake her up, unfortunately. We better get going."

The two twins headed for their cars and loaded up before pulling out of the parking garage, and heading for Y/N's house.

If you want on my tag list, just ask! 😀

Tagging:

@oreillystolemyheart @lookalivesunshine-x @southerngirl41 @claymoresofinfamy23 @beccalynns-world 

@Heerah34 @dersha89 @shortyiceheart @wwechristina87 @expert-texpert

@sassymox @sammyfinn21-blog @alliecatsworldsblog @potatosackk @keisha-knell 

@peaceloveandcurves @terrortwinunicorn @mzv11 @jazzyboo123-blog1 @ibelievedinjh 

@fafomama @zigzoggy @raya-hunter01 @sharmelasworld @queenmotionlessxo

@skyesthebomb @moxley99

[fushiglow]

Share the first lines of ten of your latest fanfics (or up to if you have fewer) and tag ten people.

Thank you for the tags, @detta-pica and @hollow-lime-green! I cheated by posting a whole new fic before having a go at this, but there we go. The first fic in this list marks my 34th upload to AO3 for the Jujutsu Kaisen fandom which... Fine. Yeah. Looking forward to celebrating number 40 sometime later this year, I guess.

Let's have a look then...

1. Five Days of Summer

Summer is an endless gasp for breath. It shudders past August and into September. It rattles damp and desperate around Suguru’s lungs. It persists without pause, leaving him aching for relief.

Turned that over in my brain for a whole day. Needed the opening of the fic to capture its essence immediately. It's fire for a reason.

2. Energy

It was a long way down. Long enough to survive the fall? Probably, for him, but was he really going to risk that? A fate splattered on the grimy streets in the bowels of the city for some bleeder to ransack whatever remained of his body? His best friend?

Star Wars AU, my beloved. I wanted to withhold the POV from the reader for a little while since part one, Balance, is told from Megumi's POV. The fic summary spoils it, but alas.

Part two and the currently unpublished part three were originally the other way around, but I decided I wanted to give part three (exclusive spoiler! It's called Warmth and it's a very fitting title) a bit more emotional oomph, so we went back in time a little further first. I'm enjoying the non-linear storytelling of Star Wars AU a lot.

3. Phantom Power

Looking back, Suguru had been stupid to believe everything would simply slot back into its rightful place the moment Satoru came home. Impressively stupid, even for him. It had been easier falling asleep with Satoru’s familiar weight in the bed next to him. It had been easier to drift off tangled in his too tight hold. But they must have rolled away from each other at some point during the night, because Suguru was cold when he awoke in the darkness.

This is kind of cheating since it's the opening to the most recent chapter of a multi-chapter fic, but all of the chapters are standalone shorts so I'm saying it counts. It's also very beautiful with gorgeous accompanying art by bean! This is (not) just a plug!

4. A Cappella 

I could do that. It was the errant thought that passed through Suguru’s mind as he watched Sugar from yet another angle. Childish, really. With his face pressed into his pillow, drawstrings of his hoodie (Satoru’s hoodie) pulled tight around his chin, Suguru dragged the scrubber back to the start and watched the video again.

I watched so many Tiktok dance challenges during the process of creating this oneshot, mostly this one by San from ATEEZ. So we've got Santoru, SaTENru and... Jackson Wang. Yeah, I can't find a way to merge their names, but they're the three main influences on threshold!Satoru at this point. Honourable mention to Taemin, too.

Anyway, make sex sad again!

5. Race You to the Bottom 

Satoru usually enjoyed holidaying with his friends. Usually. However, even putting aside the pandemonium that was the Swiss Alps in the middle of February, it was quickly becoming clear that a group ski trip was Utahime's worst idea yet.

Sigh, take me back to ski fic...

Kidding, I think. I definitely look back on this fic with rose-tinted glasses because it turned out so well and I had so much fun writing the first two chapters especially. However, the last one was hard work. Basically, turns out I enjoyed writing the actual extreme sport more than I enjoyed writing the, uh, extreme sport.

6. Taste Test 

‘Is it a knife?’ he blurted, excited both by the prospect of winning a point and the implications. ‘Is this your way of telling me you want to try knife play?’

The opening lines are just the summary of the fic, so here's Suguru being a horny kinky bastard instead.

7. erase me

Gojō sits in his car and cries. He’s so sick of winter. He can’t remember the last time the sun shone on this shitty little town. Thinks it was probably— Gojō doesn’t want to think about Suguru. Gojō always wants to think about Suguru.

Your honour, I slayed. Severance AU is peak (fan)fiction. And the opening makes it if you ask me. The whole thing reads (and looks) like a poem and I love that.

8. Summer's Last Cherry

Suguru wore his twenty seven years well.

Simply because this fic is tagged "canon compliant", oops.

9. Over the Threshold 

The beat dropped and Satoru went with it, falling to his hands and knees as though gravity had become irresistible. He began moving against the floor like it was his lover, gyrating his pelvis in effortless synchronisation with the gaggle of dancers surrounding him. His soaking wet tank top left little to the imagination, clinging to his torso in a way that was only somewhat offset by the baggy cargo pants that sat obscenely low on his hips. From the shaggy mop of waves atop his head to the chunky combat boots hugging his calves, Satoru was a vision in white, cast in a cerulean hue under the studio lights.

The actual opening is a definition of limiting (which I agonised over a lot, it's important!) but these are the opening lines of the actual fiction. I wrote this so long ago and it's one solid paragraph, which is interesting, because it's not often that I open a fic with a long paragraph like this. It makes sense here, because it's basically a description of the video Suguru is watching rather than any close internal monologue. It gets increasingly silly as Suguru forms an opinion and we drop into his POV, and although I had doubts about the opening to Over the Threshold in the past, I love it these days. I think it conveys the premise and also themes of the fic very quickly.

By the way, I make a direct reference to that last sentence in chapter 14, coming god knows when. Sooner rather than later, I hope.

10. A WIP?? A WIP???

It begins quietly. The instrumentalists arranged on the stage settle into stillness. A cellist at the back of the ensemble taps his bow along his D string on a pedal point played portato. The violins ease in with an eerie whine, playing a dissonant interval suspended over that single sustained tone. Still, the two performers positioned at the centre of the string orchestra remain motionless.

This will probably be the next fic I post (?) and, yeah, I'm sorry it's not Vocal Rest. It's that other music AU I know a few people have been waiting for instead. It's really just AO3 user greaterglow being a nerd about music but in a slightly different font. Who'd have thought?

I'm going to be so honest. The reason I delayed making this post is mostly because I wanted to avoid including ~certain works~ that make me a bit sad, so I waited until I'd posted Five Days of Summer and padded it out with a WIP of music AU number 5725 😭 However, because of this post, I literally pulled up a new doc to start writing the daddy!Satoru pairing for ~that fic~ so I can reclaim it for myself.

I hate that harassment has soured my feelings about a work that was made with so much love for someone who means very much to me. I still haven't replied to a single comment on it, I just pretend it doesn't exist. So, we're going to fix that with an equally emotional and, this time, extremely self indulgent "daddy" counterpart. Make of that what you will.

(If you've spent any amount of time reading my fics, it shouldn't be that hard to work out the angle I'm taking with this, honestly. It's going to be fantastic.)

—

I really don't know who to tag since I'm very late to this and don't know anyone with 10 fanfics who hasn't already done this challenge! However, it was fun looking back through various works! I love yapping about my writing and I'll always take any opportunity to do so!

[bishonenspit]

sorry can you point me to where i said "devote your life and 100% of your time to become fluent in japanese and spend all your free time and money learning a new language 100% just so you can read manga"? oh no you can't because i did not say that. because that's insane. i have a full time job and a learning disability to the point where i actually dropped out of university which i was attending for studying japanese. has that stopped me from picking up basic readings and comprehension because one of my primary hobbies is rooted in things that are mostly untranslated? no. i can still read hiragana/katakana fluently and have basic listening comprehension. my actual point is, at a certain point, a majority of shoujo twitter (which i'm sure is where you're coming from) spends 100% of their time complaining about publishers not licensing series, or publishers ignoring them, or publishers doing shoujo so dirty, or licensed shoujo turning out bad etc etc etc, which i will not say is incorrect, shoujo gets the shit end of the stick with english publication for sure, BUT ALSO, AT A CERTAIN POINT, you and those people aren't actually reading any fucking manga. or posting about manga at all. all you spend your time doing is whining and complaining that a shoujo with 45+ volumes released in 1992 isn't translated in the queen's english. officially. for availability for purchase. in english. shiny shiny nice english. like holy shit i'm just sick of it. it is 100% complaining all the time. i never see any accounts talking about manga. it's always about licenses. and therefore monetary consumption. it's buy buy buy until the manga isn't in BEAUTIFUL AMERICAN ENGLISH and then it's PERFORMATIVE OUTRAGE. if they talk about a goddamn manga they're telling you to buy it. they're not telling you about what happens in it. or how it made them feel or what they liked. it's GO PREORDER. GO BUY.

i cannot fathom this entitled thought process, you people get so into something that isn't translated and. instead of actually becoming passionate about it in its current form and source language like 90% of actual otaku you start stomping your feet and whining and crying about how it should be in english because you want to read it so bad. like somehow a disability and a full time job prevent someone from giving a shit about the language all of their interests are originally in? please, seriously. get a grip. myself and so many other japanese language students and scanlators and translators have disabilities and full time jobs. so insanely belittling to imply that's why you ignorant people aren't learning. well that's cool! you just don't care. we do though and we'll keep working to learn. also, be serious. that last comment?? do you think that there's not insane external pressure in japan to learn english? do you think japanese people don't learn english because their interests and hobbies are primarily english media? english is a fucking plague on any non english speaking country. schools in japan teach english as a second language because of idk, probably something to do with the fucking american military still being stationed there and the average american's entitlement to people knowing their fucking language everywhere they go in the world. it's literally known to be an "easy way to live in japan as a foreigner" if you go to teach english. i would seriously not be surprised if japanese people learn english because they like a western tv show. that's like. insanely normal. people learning a language they don't know because they fixate on something. kind of really insanely common. it's not actually elitist to tell people to maybe learn basics of a language when they spend every waking moment of their lives bitching that something from another country hasn't been adapted into their native tongue. get over your english speaker entitlement and maybe go actually read some fucking manga because it seems like you guys are obsessed with doing anything but. or i guess go keep getting mad at corporations in vain. your choice. go watch some dubbed anime because clearly you need everything to be 100% in english for you all the time.

[candybar99]

it was always you [steve.harrington]

”Here comes your dream girl, dingus.” Robin teased, making Steve quickly open the glass door behind the register and revealing himself.

”Shut up, Robin.” Steve said quickly, afraid that you would hear the comment she had made but by the look of your face he was in the clear.

”Ahoy.” Robin joked and you laughed, leaning on your elbows that you rested on the counter once you arrived at the register

”Ahoy my two favorite sailors.” you replied, looking at them both with a smile. Though when you looked at Steve, you felt yourself blush slightly. You hoped though that he didn’t notice it.

”You only like us because of the ice cream.” Steve joked and you giggled. ”Am I wrong?”

”Well-” you began, pretending to think about it with a teasing smile. ”The ice cream sure is a big plus.”

Robin laughed, bumping her shoulder into Steve who looked at her and rolling his eyes.

”That’ not the only reason though.” you continued, feeling your cheeks grow hot as Steve turned to look at you again. His eyes were searching yours and when he found them, he had a hard time concentrating because of the beauty of them.

”Yeah?” he said, leaning to rest on his elbows as well to be eye level with you. ”What’s the other reason?”

His voice was soft and it made you break eye contact, taking your bottom lip in between your teeth as you blushed. As you looked up again, you noticed that he still had his eyes on you and giving you all his attention. He didn’t even notice Robin leave them with a satisfied smile but then again, you didn’t notice it either.

”Am I making you nervous sweetheart?” Steve teased, his voice low and gentle but at the same time you could hear both seriousness and playfullnes in his voice.

”N-No.” you stuttered out, trying to sound normal but it didn’t go as well as you had hoped which made him grin.

”That didn’t sound very sure.” he whispered and leaning forward, his pulse racing and he tried his best to act confident even though he was freaking out inside. He was always freaking out around you. ”Wanna hear something that might make you less nervous?”

You nodded at his question and he leaned forward even more, his lips gently moving to the side of you ear and you could hear his slow breathing. ”You make me nervous too.”

You didnt know what to anwser to that, it was like you froze and you let out a breath you didn’t know you we’re holding. As he pulled away he smiled at you, a teasing smile as he noticed your pink cheeks.

”You’re cute when you’re blushing.” Steve then said, his voice gentle and soft. ”Like really cute.”

”Thank you.” you whispered as he was still close to you and you smiled. ”You’re kind of handesome in that outfit.”

Steve raised an eyebrow at your comment, kind of chocked since he thought he looked ridiculous in it but he kind of only cared about your opinion.

”Well thank you.” you smiled at him.

”Please just kiss already!” Robin shouted from behind, making both you and Steve looked at her as she watched them with a teasing smile.

”Ignore her.” Steve muttered and turned his attention to you.

”What if I don’t want to?” you said, nervous as hell when the words had left your mouth.

”What?” Steve was sure his heart had stopped at your words, though he wasn’t sure what you meant by it but he hoped he understood it the right way.

”Maybe I want you to kiss me.” you said gently and moved your hand to run through his hair gently. ”What if I’m just waiting for you to make a move.”

Steve stayed quiet, processing the words that had left your mouth. Which made you regret the words you had said, making you feel embarrassed and thinking he didn’t want to kiss you.

”J-Just forget it, I can see that you don’t feel the same so just-” you started saying but you were cut off by Steve moving his hands up to your cheeks to hold your face and gently pressing his lips against yours.

It wasn’t how you had thought your first kiss would be, you had thought maybe after a date of some sort. But you didn’t care, the feeling of his lips against yours felt amazing. It felt like they were meant to be connected.

”I do feel the same.” Steve then whispered against your lips, only pulling away a few inches. ”I’ve just been scared that you’ll reject me.”

”It’s impossible to reject you, Steve.” you admitted and he smiled, his cheeks growing a light shade of pink.

”Don’t boost my ego.” he joked and you giggled at his words. ”So could I maybe take you out on a date?”

”Yeah. I’d like that.”

•••

Your heart was beating quick as you looked yourself in the mirror, waiting for Steve to pick you up. You had been on dates before but you had never been this nervous which you knew was a good thing, well at least that’s what your older sister told you.

”God.” you whispered to yourself, not feeling really confident at the choice of clothes which were a pair of black skirt and a nice top. You wanted to take it safe, not wanting to be too dressed up but also not underdressed.

A soft knock on the front door pulled you out of your thoughts about clothing opinion and brought you back into reality or whatever you would call it.

Slowly you walked out of your room, your hands almost shaking once they reached for the door knob on the front door. You took a breath before opening, revealing Steve who was giving her that beautiful smile that she loved.

”Hi.” you said gently and smiled at him softly.

”Hi.” he said, one red rose in his hand that he gently gave you. Your smile got bigger and you started to blush slightly.

”Thank you.”

”I remembered how you told me about your love for roses but not in a boquet. You said ’it feels more personal and meaningful if it’s only one. Like you only have that one person in your mind.’ ”

”Steve.” you whispered, your heart melting. You never thought he would remember something like that, something that cheesy. You stood up on your toes to lean up and kiss his cheek seeing how his cheek getting pink at the small touch. ”Should we go?”

”Y-Yeah.” Steve stuttered and cleared his throat before taking your hand in his gently, pulling you to his side.

You and Steve walked up to his car that was parked on the street outside of your house, his dark red BMW that you loved even though you had only seen it.

Steve gently opened up the door for you, bowing as he did and said. ”Madam”

It made you giggle and you gave him a small bow before sitting down in the passenger seat. He closed the door once you were seated comfortably and then went to the other side, sitting down in front of the wheel.

”What a gentlemen.” you said.

”Of course.” he said while putting the key in, starting the engine.

”So what is the plan?” you said, still holding the rose in your hand, looking at it as your heart fluttered.

”It’s a surprise.” Steve said ”But I think you’ll like it.”

The rest of the drive was in quiet silence, both of you nervous. At least that is what you thought but the silence was comfortable, the radio was on and played in a low tune.

Steve carefully moved his hand to your knee, looking at you in the corner of his eye to see your reacting, nervous that you might not be okay with it. But once he sees the smile on you face and the blushing once again, he relaxed and smiled to himself.

It wasn’t a long drive to where Steve has planned the date. Maybe 15 minutes from your house and when they pulled up on the parking lot of the Hawkin’s lake, he saw your eyes light up.

”Steve?” you asked and looked at him as he turned off the engine before turning his body so he was facing you, smiling. ”Are we having a picnic by the water and under the stars?”

”Mhm.” he nodded. ”I know it’s cheesy but I remember how you told me about your dream date and well I decided to give it to you.”

”You’re cute.” you said, taking his hand in yours with a smile. ”Thank you”

You and Steve then got out of the car and headed towards the small beach that was next to the lake. Your stomach was filled with butterflies as he held his arm around your waist.

Once you reached the spot that Steve had picked out, a blanket was already laid out with a small basket on the side of it and believe it or not, small candles around it.

”Candles?” you said and looked up to him.

”Robin might have helped me with that one.” Steve admitted. ”She was here right before we arrived, lighting them up. So it wouldn’t get out of hand or something.”

You smiled at him, leaning your head on his shoulder as you walked the last bit before sitting down on the blanket. You sat next to each other, your head still on his shoulder as he gently took the food out of the basket, doing his best so you wouldn’t have to move away from his shoulder.

He as well had never been this nervous about going on a date, god he was freaking out inside. He wanted to get this right, he wanted to give you the date you both dreamed of and deserved because in his eyes; you deserved the best.

”I can’t believe you did this for me.” you said after eating a strawberry that Steve gentle had handed to you. ”I can’t believe you remembered me even saying this.”

”Why’s that?” Steve asked and you took away your head from its position on his shoulder, looking at him before letting out a sigh and closing your eyes.

”Nobody has been this thoughtful or dedicated to me before. Nobody has put this kind of time for me and to be honest? It kind of scares me.” you admitted.

Steve was surprised by your confession. So he gently let his hand move up to your cheek which made you look at him before he spoke. ”I’ve been wanting to take you out for weeks, months. And you deserve everything, everything good in the world.”

”Steve-”

”And I can’t believe I am the first one to do something like this for you. ” Steve continued, cutting you off. ”But at the same time I am kind of happy about it, happy that I got the chance to do it first and I hope the last.”

You smiled at him before gently leaning in and pressing your lips against his, his thumb rubbing gentle circles on your cheek. ”I hope so too.”

”This is how I imagined our first kiss.” he whispered against your lips and you giggled.

”You’ve imagined our first kiss?”

”Of course I have! I’ve been waiting for this for so long. I’m just happy that Robin said something, that you took that first step that I didn’t have the guts to take.”

”Me too.” you whispered before he kissed you again, this time a bit more force and passion. Though still gentle.

”Steve?” you whispered once you pulled away.

”Yeah?”

”It’s always been you.” you admitted. ”since the first day I walked into the school of Hawkins, seeing you leaning against your locker with those black sunglasses.”

”Y/N-”

”And when you spoke to me that first day, letting me borrow your history book and not even knowing who I was expect that I was the new girl, I knew I was screwed.”

Steve felt his heart skip a beat at your words, surprised at them but at the same time he felt beyond happy. How didn’t he see the mutual feelings between you two?

”And the more I got to know you, the more I fell for you and still is-” before you could continue, Steve kissed you again and gently laid you down onto your back. He was leaning on his elbows as he hovered above you and when he pulled away, he put some of your hair behind your ear.

”That day, your first day, I had no idea that you would be this important to me and god when I saw you…I just knew I had to know you. I knew right away that you were something special.”

You blushed at his words, your fingers running through his hair in the back of his neck which made him shiver.

”We’ve been blind idiots.” you said with a giggle.

”Yeah. But it has been worth it.”

”Definitely.”