#i want to embrace the change by changing more things

[msbigredmachine]

You Again (Roman Reigns) - Part 2

That awkward moment when the biggest star in pro wrestling happens to be your high school bully…and he’s in your office. A 2-part series.

Pairing: Bully!Roman Reigns x OC

Word Count: 4.5k

Warning: Smut, stalking, bullying

MASTERLIST

The mirror was very good to her today. It was as though it knew she was in dire need of extra positive reinforcements and affirmations. She liked what she saw. Hair on point. Makeup on fleek. Body tea. Her favorite Black-owned swimwear brand came through with an outfit that was sure to turn heads at a gathering as important as this one. Evelyn looked amazing and felt powerful, a far cry from the timid, naive little girl that Joe exploited all those years ago. 

Still tried to exploit only a week ago, with his bullshit talk about wanting her. Disregarding all the damage he’d inflicted on her self-esteem that took her damn near a decade to overcome. It was clear he hadn’t grown out of his childish mind games and she would not stand for it today or any other day. At least that’s what her brain kept telling her, repeating it over and over in her mind.

If only her body could show the same resolve, because it didn’t seem able to rid itself of the feel of his hands and his lips…his fingers...It was all she’d thought about all week, and her dildo was paying the price…

Aboard the superyacht, it was easy to find him, tall and striking, a drink in his hand as he conversed with Tessa and Khadijah, Wow’s CEO. Evelyn embraced the two ladies warmly and tried to keep her interaction with Joe as brief as possible. Of course, ever the one to take a mile from an inch, he pressed too close, his hand on the small of her back, lingering dangerously above the curve of her butt. 

“Can we talk?” he whispered; she could have sworn his lips grazed the shell of her ear.

“No.” Her answer was immediate, a fake smile plastered on her face as she smoothly slithered out of his grasp. Suddenly craving a drink of her own, she made a beeline for the nearest bar and ordered herself a Blue Margarita. If she was going to be stuck on a boat with him for the next few hours, it was wise to make the most of it with a strong drink or two. Or three, depending on her level of anxiety which she fervently prayed would not be through the roof by the end of the day. 

From her vantage point, she watched him be the center of attention, everyone clamoring to be in his presence. A slew of conflicting emotions she wanted nothing to do with rushed through her as several women threw themselves at him, eyeing him up like he was a big juicy T-bone steak. All the girls in school had fawned over him like this back then, and even now she couldn't stop the sharp thorn of jealousy from stabbing her insides. Some things had not changed after twenty years. 

“I’m sorry, but I gotta be a fangirl right now. He is so fine,” Faith swooned, fanning herself. Evelyn wanted to hurl, and not due to seasickness. “This is probably a personal question, but Tessa said you and him went to high school together. What was he like?”

Yeah, no one needed to know the truth about them. “He was alright,” was her curt reply, changing the subject before her assistant could pry some more. 

As the party dragged on, she noticed to her chagrin that he was almost always in her line of sight. This big ass man was lurking, hovering around her vicinity under the guise of mingling with other guests. Each time he edged closer, she was quick to extend the distance, caught in a ridiculous game of cat and mouse that she was not enjoying. She sought refuge again at the bar, indulging in three tequila shots the bartender placed before her. She knocked back the first without a breath, followed by the second, letting the alcohol burn her throat and numb her senses. She was reaching for the third when a huge hand suddenly swiped it out of her reach.

“You might wanna slow down with that,” said Joe.

For fuck’s sake!

She could only look on with annoyance as he consumed the shot for himself and slammed the glass on the table. “That was mine,” she griped. 

Ignoring her, he rested against the woodgrain with a huff. “So this is your plan, huh? You gon’ keep avoiding me?” 

Evelyn scoffed. “What makes you think I’m avoiding you?”

“You can’t even look me in the eye right now. The minute I come near you, you take off. Someone must’ve told you I like the chase.”

Her laugh was bitter and cynical. “Typical N’Stink Joe Anoa’i. You think everything revolves around your arrogant ass. I ain’t checkin’ for you, okay? I’ve leveled up.”

“I can see that,” he acknowledged, his tone deepening as his eyes slowly swept down her body. The intensity of his stare had her shifting in her seat. “You’re the most beautiful woman here, Evie. You always are.”

Flustered, Evelyn crossed her arms around herself protectively. "I don't know what you want, but—"

"Isn't it obvious?" he asked, sidling closer.

"What, to harass me some more? You didn't get enough in school?" she ground out, a gasp escaping her when his face neared hers, their lips a hair’s breadth away. That familiar feeling of helplessness she thought she’d conquered long ago overwhelmed her once more, and for a brief moment, she was fifteen years old again, smothered by his domineering presence. He exuded this aura of raw power and heat, branding a sickening cocktail of loathing and longing into her skin. 

"No. I didn't just not get enough," Joe replied. His eyes flickered to her full lips, mouth watering at the memory of their softness pressed against his. "I never got any of you. That was always the problem."

At a loss for words, Evelyn shook her head. She didn’t know what to expect, but this wasn’t it. It was clear he had no plans to make this comfortable for her. Wordlessly, she slid off the stool, sidestepping him and making yet another escape. Despite being in the lovely outdoors, she felt short of air, of breath. Her stomach had twisted in a painful throbbing knot; any more tension and she was going to lose her shit.

She pulled away from the general population and walked around the deck to the rear of the ship. The lower deck took her down a hallway where the guest cabins were situated. Tentatively, she opened one door, grateful to see an empty room. It was much quieter down here, with the music reduced to muted thumping, a welcome respite from the noise outside and the turmoil she’d been plunged into ever since that infuriating man reappeared in her life. She sat down on the small bed and blew out a few breaths, her face to the ceiling, closing her eyes to help her reclaim her composure.

Get your shit together. You’re Evelyn fucking Ashton, one of the most powerful women in fashion. Don’t let nobody play games with you, not even that asshole. He’s nothing to you anymore. Now go back out there and be the boss bitch everyone knows you are!

The door suddenly swinging open startled her. Her stomach dropped as Joe entered the cabin, his massive frame engulfing the door he quietly shut like some kind of horror movie monster. She leapt to her feet, panic swelling inside her.

“What the fuck are you doing?” she stammered, her eyes widening as he approached her slowly, deliberately. She scrambled backwards, unwittingly boxing herself into the corner of the room. 

“I’m not letting you get away again, Evie, not this time,” Joe asserted, still advancing. A warped sense of deja vu overtook her as she was transported back in time to just a week ago, in the break room where this mess began.

“Get out or I’m gonna scream,” she threatened, swallowing hard as he stood impossibly close now, their chests touching. 

His shoulders lifted in a shrug. “Go ahead. As long as you hear me out when you’re done.”

Evelyn stood frozen, numb for a millisecond. Then, rage tore through her; ugly black rage that swept across her mind like dark thunderclouds. Her hand flew up, slapping him hard across the face, the impact rocking him a few steps back.

“Fine! You wanna talk, let’s talk!” she exploded. Struck him again. “You motherfucker! Who are you to demand anything of me? Do you have any idea what you did to me? What you put me through? I was a kid, Joe! A kid just like you and you made my life so fucking miserable! Why? Why did you hate me so much?” 

She raised her clenched fists and beat them against his chest over and over. Joe didn’t move, his arms at his sides as he let her lash out. He deserved every blow; his actions had pushed her to this point. He took it even as her strikes became more aggressive, wincing as her nails raked his collarbone at one point. At the first sign of her tiring out, he gently gathered her into his arms, feeling her body tremble against him with sobs that tore at his heartstrings.

“I’m sorry,” he declared softly, cupping her chin to tilt up her tear-streaked face, praying she could see the sincerity in his eyes. “I’m fuckin’ sorry, Evelyn. I was wrong to hurt you.”

She dared to look up into his face, her heart skipping at the desire that blazed in his irises. She felt her whole body go warm and her loins pool. Why was this happening? Why did he still have such an effect on her after so many years?

In a move she both hoped he would and would not do, he dipped his head, brushing their lips together. That drew a sultry moan out of her as she pressed against him, leaving not even a sliver of space between them. He licked her bottom lip, tugging it between his teeth. She sighed and that opening was enough to let his tongue slip inside to meet hers. She could feel every hard plane of his body including the hardness that was growing against her belly, the sexual tension reaching seismic proportions.

“Why are you doing this to me?” she whispered, her voice small and pleading.

"Because I can’t help myself around you, baby,” Joe confessed, his breathing ragged. “I've never wanted anyone the way I wanted…want…you." 

Those words loosened something inside her. He was telling her what she’d wanted to hear for years, what she’d never thought was possible, and the feeling was surreal.

“And I know you want me, too,” he added, a low groan accompanying the kiss on her cheek. “Tell me. Say it to me.” 

Fuck it. Why tell him, when she could show him?

She pulled his head down for another kiss, their lips parting, tongues tangling with every turn of their heads. He wrapped his arms around her body, almost crushing her as he released her mouth to kiss her neck, suckling her soft brown skin. Evelyn closed her eyes and rested her head on the wall with a soft bite of her lip, captive to the sensations bombarding her. She was only aware of him, of this moment of bliss and what was coming next.

Joe lowered himself to his knees, leaving a trail of wet kisses on her exposed skin on his way down. He gathered her pants in his fists, pulling them down her legs. Her matching bikini bottoms were next, already damp from her arousal, pushing the skimpy material over her hips and past her ankles before honing in on her bare mound. He made a sound of approval as he circled his thumb over her moistening folds, admiring the puffiness of them, and smiled when Evelyn squirmed, sensitive to his intimate touch. He palmed her leg before slinging it over his shoulder, gripping her thigh to hold her steady.

Evelyn bit down hard on her lip to keep from screaming as his tongue lashed against her delicate, velvety folds. He devoured her like he was famished, his mouth giving long, suckling licks to every crevice and every spot it could find. Grabbing his shoulders, she cried out as he slid his middle finger inside her, right along her g-spot, her back arching against the wall from the dizzying sensation. Another finger followed shortly, her wetness immediately coating both digits as he thrust them in and out of her gushy pussy with ease. 

“You taste better than I imagined.” Joe watched her closely, enraptured by the way she licked her lips and her eyes fluttered. He pumped his fingers faster, sucked her pussy a little harder, making nasty sloppy sounds with his warm, fat tongue that had her grinding into his face. It blew his mind how tight and wet she was; he couldn't get enough of her. 

It was with the strength of Samson that Evelyn managed to shove his head away, stomach clenching at the sight of her nectar glistening on his thick beard. “There’s no time, just fuck me,” she scowled. 

The big man’s eyes lit up at her demand as he made his way back up to kiss her, earning another moan from her taste coating her tongue. She pulled away long enough to yank his shirt off of him, her hungry stare fixated on his exposed muscles, the chiseled abs and chest tattoo her hands couldn't resist exploring. She allowed herself a small smile as his eyes shut briefly at her touch. He backed her towards the bed and dropped her flat on her back with him hovering above her. His hand cradled her thighs, spreading them and pressing his erection to her center. With his mouth back on hers, he pulled her right thigh around his hip, grinding against her, with her grinding with him, her fingers embedded in his muscled forearms.

"Please," Evelyn breathed. She knew it was a bad idea. She knew crossing this line would never resolve her past trauma. But she also couldn't help the way she felt, like her world would crumble to pieces if she didn’t feel him on her, in her; if she didn’t finally give in to the urges that he’d awoken after two decades of slumber. 

Joe tugged down his shorts with one hand, and she sucked in a breath at the sight of his dick protruding from a manscaped tuft of pubic hair. It was long and thick with a slight curve, and her eyes began to water when he pushed it against her soaked opening, entering her inch by inch. Despite how wet she was, she was equally as tight, and he had to work to fit into her. 

“Oh my god.” She had expected this. Almost. The stretch of him, this delicious and this full, inside of her. She knew he would go deep, but here he was reaching her in that one area no one else seemed able to find. He hooked her other knee over his arm, rolling his hips until he was fully sheathed inside her. He rested his forehead against hers, cursing as her inner muscles clenched around him. Their eyes locked as his hands pressed down firmly on her thighs, holding her open to take him balls-deep. Their pants and moans mingled with slaps of bare skin echoing in the tiny cabin, all of it blocked out thankfully by the music blaring obliviously outside.

The haze of pleasure had Evelyn squeezing her eyes shut, overwhelmed by the pleasure ravaging her body. Her hands moved up his muscular back, her nails scraping his taut, bronzed skin as he switched up with faster, deeper thrusts. She felt his fingers tighten around the back of her knees, felt his mouth cover her throat with wet, breathy kisses as his voice, low and gruff, penetrated her sex-fogged brain. 

"I never thought I'd see you again," he murmured against her neck, "I couldn't believe you left me.”

"Bull…fuck…bullshit,” She could hardly think straight with his thick dick buried in her, her legs pinned to the bed with no chance to wriggle out. “You hated me, you—fffuuck," Her words disappeared in another groan when he circled his hips, nudging his dick several inches further inside her.

"I never hated you. I hated how you made me feel." One hand came up to yank her bikini top down and knead her breast. "Unsure of myself. Out of character. Weak for you," he continued. “I jerked off to you countless times…I…I couldn’t stop thinking about you. It broke my heart when you left. For years, I missed you. I fuckin’ named my daughter after you-”

Evelyn gaped at him in shock. “Your daughter’s name is Evelyn?!”

“No. Amara. Your middle name.”

There was no time to react to this revelation as his big hands lifted her hips off the bed to meet his thrusts, forcing her mouth open in a soundless cry as he slammed breath after breath out of her with gloriously deep, plunging strokes. The force and power of him made her thighs tremble as her pussy finally gave in, gushing all over his groin. She wanted to cuss him out for making her come so hard, but all that came out of her mouth were pathetic, pitiful moans. Joe's eyes shone with excitement at the mess she was making, relishing every moment of her losing control to him. He gifted her a toe-curling kiss before flipping her over, smacking her bare ass. 

“On your knees,” he ordered.

Too worked up to argue, she positioned herself on all fours and looked back at him expectantly. It was hard to deny how hot it was, seeing this big, sexy ass mountain of a man naked, big hand on his equally big dick, massaging it with her juices. Chuckling at the lust in her eyes, he nudged her thighs further apart and rubbed his palm along her gushy entrance, smearing her mess all over, making her moan.

“Mmm. Pussy drippin’ everywhere. You been needin’ me, huh, baby?” he said.

“Put that dick back in me,” she rasped, bumping her ass against him, eager for more. She felt his tip forge inside her, a tortuously slow entrance that had her chin scraping her chest as she moaned out in pleasure. Inch by inch, his own jaw clenching at the greed with which her pussy suckled him in. As she writhed on his dick, his mouth found her ear, tongue tracing the delicate lobe as he slid in deep from behind with his big body hunched over her. He felt huge from this angle, and Evelyn gasped, her mind spiraling from the fullness of him. 

“Since I left your office, I haven’t thought about anything else but you. All my fantasies from years ago returned and I had to have you…Fuck, Evie, you feel fuckin’ amazing.” He leaned back and yanked her hips higher, deepening the arch of her back. The slap of his heavy balls against her clitoris caused her velvety walls to ripple around the length and girth of him. The shit was so good that she dug her fingers into the sheets, throwing her ass to catch his backshots as she whined his name. The low, husky moans that escaped from his throat gave away how good he was feeling just like she was, the sounds flowing through them both like beautiful music. 

“You takin’ this dick like a champ, baby. Is it everything you dreamed of, huh?" Joe grunted, his fingers clinging to the meat of her thick hips, bewitched by the sight and feel of the big, round cheeks slapping against his pelvis, the mesmerizing recoil leaving him in a heady trance. Even in his nastiest dreams, it never looked this good. 

“Fuuuuck, yes. Ohhh…” she whimpered, her voice cracking from complete bliss. He seemed determined to bury his dick in her stomach and was succeeding, nestling in the warmth of her cunt and keeping her in place as she gasped from every inch he made her take. He trailed his hand between her thighs, using two long fingers to strum on her clit, and hissed as she tightened around him right away. “Mmm, this little pussy squeezin’ my shit, you boutta come all over my d-”

Knock! Knock! Knock! 

“Evelyn? Are you in here?”

They both froze as Faith’s concerned voice sounded from the other side of the door. Evelyn’s heart rate accelerated; the door wasn’t locked, so Faith could easily walk in if she wanted to. Her career and her reputation flashed before her eyes, her life ruined yet again because of Joe fucking Anoa’i. She started to scramble out of the bed, trying to get away, but his strong, inked arm locking around her waist put a stop to that. She cast a panicked glance back at him but only received an amused wink in response.

“She asked you a question,” he said for her hearing only, kissing her cheek.

Fighting off her rising anxiety, Evelyn called out as casually as possible, “I’m here, Faith. What is it?”

“Are you okay? I’ve been looking for you.”

“Yes…yes, I’m fine. Just a little seasick-” Her words evaporated when his fingers twined into her hair, gently pulling back, his nose nuzzling the crook of her extended neck. Incredulously, he started thrusting into her again, rolling his hips slowly so as to not make any noise. Her agitation levels were at an all time high, battling with the warm burn he was inducing in her tightening stomach. 

“You sure?” Faith was saying.

His other hand cupped her breast, groping generously as his dick nudged right up against her g-spot. The nerve of him, trying to make her climax again even with Faith mere feet away! “Positive,” Evelyn called out, her pussy clenching when Joe angled her face and slyly tongue-kissed her mid-sentence. It took all of her strength to keep talking. “I’m fine, Faith. Go on. I’ll be out in a minute,” she ground out, praying that she would listen.

“Alright. Will do. You’re missing a great party though, so hurry back!”

The second Faith’s footsteps faded, Joe struck, his big paw on the back of Evelyn’s neck pinning her face-down as he upped his tempo, pounded her out with fierce, needy ruts of his hips. “Good girl, you did so good. Now nut on my dick again,” he encouraged with another hard spank to her ass, breathing out soft moans of his own as his own climax beckoned. 

“Oh my fuckin’ god,” Evelyn moaned helplessly into the mattress. Fireworks burst behind her eyelids, her entire body quivering as it exploded from blinding pleasure. Her pussy pulsed and leaked all over his dick, finally dragging him over the edge as well. She’d never heard anything as sexy as his hushed, almost strangled groans as he released inside her, big dick throbbing, emptying his essence into her soaked depths.

For a long moment, neither could move, recovering from the shock of the last several minutes. His hand lightly smacking her ass caught her off guard as he withdrew from her with a low groan. The warmth of his body disappeared, the weight of the small bed easing as he climbed out of it. The ruffle of heavy fabric was loud in the stunned silence of the room as he picked up his shorts and put them back on. Evelyn squeezed her eyes closed, horror dawning as she emerged from her desire-induced stupor and realized what just happened.

Joe cleared his throat awkwardly. "Evie..."

Ignoring him, she rolled out of the bed, hating that her legs wobbled as she stood. She hunted in her purse for a wet wipe, her back deliberately turned as she cleaned up the evidence of their tryst off her body. Without a word, she threw the wipe into the small trash can in the corner, adjusted her bikini top and slid her underwear and pants back on.

"Evie wait, hold on…Evie…Evelyn!" His deep voice rose, more demanding as he sensed her about to run off again. He was quicker, blocking her path to the door before she could escape. Despite her shame, her ego couldn’t help but swell at how deliciously rumpled he looked, knowing she did that to him. He ran a hand through the strands of hair that had escaped his once neat ponytail. "Look, I still think we should talk," he said.

It took everything in her to not laugh and cry at the same time. “Talk? After this?!” she exclaimed, "I don't know what I was thinking, but this was a huge mistake." More humiliation shot through her as she realized she'd not only let her high school bully fuck her, but they did it raw on a boat filled with her colleagues! Her assistant had almost caught her, too! The embarrassment was suffocating and she needed out asap.

She moved around him but he stopped her again, his hand catching her wrist. "No. Don’t run off on me again." His jaw clenched, his voice hesitant. "I've been beating myself up for a long, long time for what I did to you." He brushed his thumb over the apple of her cheek. “Please…let me make it up to you.”

“You can’t. It’s…it’s too late,” Evelyn argued, painfully aware that she was in a losing battle with her emotions.

"No, sweetheart, it ain’t,” Joe insisted. “I leave town in two days. Have dinner with me tomorrow night. I got a lot to apologize for. Give me a chance, Evie. Please."

Her sigh was tired and resigned, recognizing that he was not going to drop this. So she took the easy way out. "Fine. And after that I never want to see or hear from you again."

Joe chuckled, his arm snaking around her waist and drawing her close. This time she didn’t push him off. A good sign. “You already forgot we’re working together soon. Besides, is that really what you want, baby girl?”

She swallowed. “Yes.”

“You sure?” He leaned down and kissed her softly, his soft lips moving sensually against hers. Like butter next to heat, she was melting into him again, kissing him back once, twice, three times, before she jerked away abruptly. “I ain’t your toy no more, Joseph,” she warned, a frown tainting her beautiful face. “Dinner and that’s it. Text me the time and place and I’ll be there.”

“I’ma make you change your mind about me,” he vowed, the arrogance in his baritone reverberating around the room and caressing her skin.

Meeting his eyes dead-on, a defiant smirk crossed her lips as she opened the door. “Oh, I highly doubt that. See you around, N’Stink.” 

How she got back to the upper deck in one piece, she wasn’t sure. It was as though she was floating on air, her body light as air for the first time in ages. Despite her elation, a part of her still worried about this new, interesting step she had taken and where it would lead her. Confusing. Conflicting.

Faith perked up when she returned. “There you are! I was gonna come find you again.” She peered closely at her boss with a concerned expression. “Hey, are you okay? Feel better? You do look a little flushed,” she observed.

“I’m fine.” Evelyn snatched two flutes of champagne from a passing waiter’s tray and gulped both of them down in record time, ignoring Faith’s bewildered gaze. “Do me a favor?”

“Sure,” said Faith, eager to help.

“When we get off this boat, get me the sluttiest dress and stilettos you can find in my size, and a box of Plan B.” 

THE END.

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[muiitoloko]

I looooved the daddy severus fanfic aaaaghhhh ❤️ but now can we have what he needed to do to have the baby lol

Breeding kink severus PLEASE!!! Xx

Title: A Second Chance

Summary: Surviving the war was only the beginning for Severus Snape. With your love, he learns to embrace life, finding comfort in the thought of a future that includes a family of his own.

Pairing: Severus Snape × Fem! Reader

Warnings: Smut

Author's Notes: I'm so glad you loved the Daddy Severus fanfic! ❤️ And I couldn't resist your request, so I went ahead with the breeding kink idea—but decided to keep it light and wrote a completely new one-shot instead. Don't worry, it's more on the sweet side, nothing too kinky 😅. Hope you enjoy this one just as much! xx

Also read on Ao3

Severus Snape never imagined he would survive the war, let alone find himself married years after the defeat of Lord Voldemort. In truth, he hadn't even expected to live past the moment Nagini's fangs had torn into his throat. The pain had been excruciating, but it was fleeting—quickly overtaken by the cold, creeping numbness of death. He had welcomed it, that final escape from a life filled with darkness and deceit. Everything had gone black, and he thought that was the end.

But death had not come for Severus Snape that day. Instead, he had awoken to the sterile smell of potions and the clinical brightness of the Hogwarts infirmary, with Madam Pomfrey's stern face hovering above him, muttering incantations and administering salves to his ravaged neck. She had told him that the war was over, that Voldemort was defeated, and in those first few moments of lucidity, Snape had wanted nothing more than to slip back into unconsciousness. He had nothing left to live for, after all. But fate, as it often did, had other plans.

Snape had been in a coma for two long years—two years during which the wizarding world had moved on without him, during which he had been declared a hero by none other than Harry Potter, the boy he had once loathed. Potter, in his infinite idiocy, had come forward with memories—his memories—evidence that Snape had been working as a double agent, risking everything to protect the son of the woman he had loved more than life itself. It was Potter’s testimony that had spared Snape from Azkaban, and it was Potter who had ensured that he was awarded the Order of Merlin, First Class, and hailed as a hero in the aftermath of the war.

Snape thought bitterly of that fool of a boy now, sitting in the grand sitting room of one of the Prince family’s old mansions. The house had been passed down to him as the last living heir of the Prince family, a lineage he had long since stopped caring about. His mother’s bloodline had never brought him anything but misery, and yet here he was, a reluctant beneficiary of the wealth and status he had once despised. He rubbed the large scar on his neck, the mark left by Nagini’s fangs a constant reminder of how close he had come to death. It barely allowed him to speak without pain, a daily torment that was only mitigated by the potions and treatments he had to endure.

And that was where you came in.

You had been sent by St. Mungo’s on behalf of the Ministry of Magic, assigned to take care of Snape’s throat, which often swelled and caused him intense pain at random times. The venom of Nagini had remained in his bloodstream, a sinister reminder of the Dark Lord’s most loyal servant. Snape hadn’t wanted you there. In those first few days, he had made every effort to drive you away, using every tactic at his disposal—scathing remarks, icy glares, and, when words failed him, the sheer force of his silent, menacing presence. But you hadn’t been intimidated. You had insisted on staying, refusing to leave despite his best efforts to scare you off. You were patient, determined, and unfailingly kind—qualities that Snape found both infuriating and, inexplicably, disarming.

He couldn’t pinpoint the exact moment when things began to change between the two of you. Perhaps it was the day he had tried to intimidate you with a particularly venomous glare, only to find that you met his gaze with calm resolve, refusing to back down. He had pressed you against the wall in a fit of frustration, intending to finally break through that maddening composure, but instead, he had found himself kissing you—fiercely, desperately, as if you were the only thing tethering him to this world. That kiss had quickly turned into something more—something that left you both breathless and shaken, your bodies entwined in a feverish, almost primal need.

Months had passed since that first heated encounter, and somehow, through a series of events that still seemed surreal to him, Snape had found himself married to you. He looked down at the simple, yet elegant ring on his finger, a symbol of a life he had never imagined for himself. The ring was one he had chosen himself, purchased with the money he had saved over the years as a professor—years of putting up with those insufferable, brainless children. The irony of it all was not lost on him. Severus Snape, the cold, unyielding Potions Master, now had a wife, a home, and a life that was, in many ways, far more normal than he had ever thought possible.

He had thought he would hate it—the domesticity, the mundanity of it all. But as he sat in the quiet of the old manor, the fire crackling softly in the hearth, he realized that he didn’t hate it. Not at all. In fact, he found a strange sort of peace in it—a peace he hadn’t known in decades, if ever. It was a peace that came from knowing that, despite everything, he had somehow found a place in this world—a place with you.

His thoughts were interrupted by the sound of footsteps approaching, and he looked up to see you entering the room, a soft smile on your face as you made your way over to him. You were dressed simply, yet elegantly, your presence filling the room with a warmth that he still wasn’t quite used to, but which he had come to cherish nonetheless.

“Severus,” you greeted him, your voice soft and soothing as you approached. “How are you feeling?”

He shrugged slightly, the familiar discomfort in his throat a dull throb that he had long since learned to ignore. “As well as can be expected,” he replied, his voice low and rough, a result of the lingering effects of the venom.

You nodded, your expression one of understanding and quiet concern as you reached out to gently touch his hand, your fingers brushing against the cool metal of his wedding ring. ��I’m glad,” you said softly, your eyes meeting his with a warmth that made his chest tighten. “You know, you don’t have to bear this burden alone. I’m here, Severus. I’ll always be here.”

He looked at you for a long moment, the weight of your words sinking in, filling the empty spaces in his heart that he had long thought would remain void. He had spent so many years alone, so many years building walls around himself to keep others out, that it still felt strange—unnatural, even—to have someone who cared about him, who wanted to share in his burdens.

But you were here, in his life, in his home, and he had somehow, against all odds, found himself falling for you in a way he hadn’t believed was possible. You had been a light in the darkness, a beacon that had guided him back to the land of the living when all he had wanted was to fade into oblivion.

“I know,” he said quietly, his voice thick with emotion as he looked down at your hand in his, the warmth of your touch grounding him in a way that nothing else could. “And I’m… grateful.”

You smiled at that, a soft, genuine smile that lit up your entire face, and for a moment, Snape felt something stir within him—something that had been dormant for far too long. It was a warmth, a flicker of hope, of love, that he had thought he would never feel again.

Without another word, you leaned in and pressed a gentle kiss to his lips, a kiss that was soft and sweet, filled with all the affection and tenderness that you had brought into his life. Snape closed his eyes, allowing himself to get lost in the sensation, to savor the moment, the connection between you.

When you finally pulled back, you looked at him with a quiet intensity, your eyes searching his as if you were trying to understand the depth of what he was feeling. And in that moment, Snape realized that you did understand—that you knew him better than anyone ever had, perhaps even better than he knew himself.

“I love you, Sev,” you whispered, your voice filled with a quiet conviction that left no room for doubt. “I always will.”

But Severus Snape had never been one for grand declarations, especially when it came to matters of the heart. The words I love you felt foreign on his tongue, weighed down by the years of pain and loss that had shaped him into the man he was today. Instead, he preferred to convey his feelings through subtle gestures, through actions that spoke louder than words ever could.

And tonight, he intended to show you just how much you meant to him.

Without a word, Snape leaned in and captured your lips in a kiss, one that was slow and deliberate, full of a restrained passion that he had kept buried for far too long. His lips moved against yours with a careful intensity, as if he was savoring every moment, every sensation. His hand slid up to cup the back of your head, his long, slender fingers tangling in your hair as he deepened the kiss, pulling you closer to him.

You responded eagerly, your body leaning into his as the kiss grew more heated, more urgent. Snape’s other hand found its way to your waist, his grip firm but gentle as he guided you onto his lap, your dress rustling softly as you straddled him. The fabric of his dark robes brushed against your skin, a stark contrast to the warmth that radiated from his body.

When he finally broke the kiss, his breathing was slightly uneven, his dark eyes filled with a hunger that you had rarely seen before. He looked at you with an intensity that made your heart skip a beat, his gaze piercing through you as if he was trying to convey all the things he couldn’t bring himself to say.

Without breaking eye contact, Snape’s hands moved to the hem of your dress, his fingers grazing the soft fabric as he slowly pushed it up, revealing the smooth skin of your thighs. He let out a low, almost inaudible groan as he felt the warmth of your body against his, the sight of you on his lap stirring something primal within him.

“You’re mine,” he murmured, his voice a hoarse whisper as he traced the outline of your hips with his hands, his touch possessive yet reverent. It wasn’t quite I love you, but it carried the same weight, the same depth of emotion. It was his way of claiming you, of letting you know that you belonged to him in every sense of the word.

You shivered at his touch, your own hands moving to his shoulders, your fingers brushing against the cool, smooth fabric of his robes. His grip on you tightened slightly as he pulled you even closer, pressing your body against his as he buried his face in the crook of your neck, his breath hot against your skin. You could feel the hardness of his arousal pressing against you, a clear indication of just how much he wanted you.

“Severus…” you whispered, your voice filled with a mix of anticipation and desire as you felt his lips ghosting over your throat, leaving a trail of soft, heated kisses in their wake.

Snape didn’t respond with words. Instead, he let his actions speak for him, his hands slipping beneath your dress, his fingers tracing the curve of your spine before moving lower, cupping your ass and giving it a possessive squeeze. His lips found their way back to yours, capturing them in another deep, fervent kiss as he shifted beneath you, positioning himself so that his cock was perfectly aligned with your entrance, the heat of your arousal palpable through the thin fabric of your underwear.

Snape’s gaze was intense, his dark eyes boring into yours as he uttered a single, hoarse word: “Bedroom.” The command was rough, almost strangled, a reminder of the ever-present pain that laced his throat. You could see the discomfort etched into the lines of his face, a sharp pang of concern shooting through you. Was he okay? Was the pain too much for him? But before you could voice your worries, Snape dismissed them with a hard, determined look. He wasn’t going to let anything interrupt this moment.

In a swift, fluid motion, he lifted you into his arms, your legs wrapping instinctively around his waist as you clung to him. His strength surprised you, the lean muscles beneath his robes belying the quiet power he possessed. You could feel the hardness of his arousal pressing against you, straining through the fabric of his impeccably tailored trousers. The sensation sent a shiver of anticipation down your spine, igniting a fire in your belly.

He moved with purpose, carrying you down the dimly lit hallway of the old manor, his long robes billowing around him like shadows. The silence between you was thick, charged with the unspoken desires that had been building between you for months. Snape’s grip on you was firm, possessive, his hands settling on the curve of your ass as he held you close. The tension in the air was palpable, the only sounds were the soft rustle of fabric and the faint creak of the floorboards beneath his boots.

When he finally reached the bedroom, Snape pushed the door open with a gentle nudge of his foot, striding inside without hesitation. The room was bathed in the soft glow of candlelight, the fire in the hearth casting flickering shadows on the walls. The bed—a grand, four-poster affair draped in rich, dark fabrics—stood at the center of the room, an inviting haven amidst the darkness.

Without breaking his stride, Snape crossed the room and laid you down on the bed, his movements careful but deliberate. The mattress dipped under your weight as you looked up at him, your breath catching in your throat as you took in the sight of him. He stood at the edge of the bed, his tall, lean figure imposing and commanding, his dark robes making him look every bit the cold, enigmatic man you had first met. But now, there was something more in his eyes—a burning need, a primal desire that he could no longer suppress.

Snape’s hands moved to the clasp of his robes, his fingers deftly undoing it before he shrugged off the heavy fabric, letting it pool on the floor at his feet. He remained silent, his gaze never leaving yours as he began to unbutton his shirt, each movement slow and deliberate, as if savoring the moment. The pale, angular planes of his chest were revealed inch by inch, the faint scars and the dark trail of hair leading down to the waistband of his trousers only adding to his rugged appeal.

Your mouth went dry as you watched him, your pulse quickening with each piece of clothing he shed. By the time he reached the waistband of his trousers, you were practically trembling with anticipation, your body aching with the need to feel him against you.

Snape didn’t rush. Instead, he paused, his fingers lingering on the waistband of his trousers as he looked down at you, his gaze dark and hungry. When he finally spoke, his voice was low, roughened by both his desire and the ever-present pain in his throat.

“I’m going to fill you,” he rasped, the words sending a jolt of arousal straight to your core. His expression was one of pure, unbridled lust, his eyes locked on yours as he added, “I’m going to put a baby inside you.”

The raw, primal promise in his words left you breathless, your heart pounding in your chest as heat pooled between your thighs. You could feel the wetness gathering there, your body responding to his words in a way that was utterly instinctive. Snape’s eyes flickered with satisfaction as he noticed your reaction, a small smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.

He stepped closer, his hand reaching out to grasp your ankle, pulling you toward the edge of the bed with a firm, steady grip. You let out a soft gasp as your back arched, your dress riding up higher, exposing more of your skin to his hungry gaze. Snape’s hand slid up your calf, his touch sending sparks of electricity coursing through you as he pushed your dress up, revealing the lacy fabric of your underwear.

“Take it off,” he ordered, his voice hoarse but commanding, a dark edge to his tone that sent a shiver down your spine.

You obeyed without hesitation, your hands trembling slightly as you reached down to slip the dress over your head. The fabric pooled on the floor beside the bed, leaving you in nothing but your underwear. Snape’s gaze raked over your body, his eyes darkening with desire as he took in the sight of you.

“Beautiful,” he murmured, the word almost lost in the roughness of his voice. His hand moved to your hip, his fingers tracing the delicate lace of your underwear before slipping beneath the fabric. The feel of his hand against your bare skin sent a jolt of pleasure through you, your breath hitching as he caressed you with slow, deliberate strokes.

You moaned softly as his fingers found your wetness, your body arching into his touch. Snape’s gaze was fixed on yours, his eyes burning with an intensity that made your heart race. He moved his fingers with a practiced precision, teasing you with light, feathering touches that left you gasping for more.

“Do you want this?” he asked, his voice a low, gravelly whisper that sent shivers down your spine. “Do you want me to fuck you?”

“Yes,” you breathed, your voice trembling with anticipation as you looked up at him. “Yes, Severus, please.”

Snape’s smirk widened at your desperate plea, his hand leaving your core to grip your thigh, spreading your legs wider. He moved between them, his trousers slipping down to reveal his throbbing erection, the sight of it making your mouth water with desire.

He positioned himself at your entrance, his tip brushing against your wet folds as he leaned down to capture your lips in a searing kiss. The sensation was electric, his lips moving against yours with a fierce, possessive hunger that left you dizzy. You could feel the tension coiling within him, the barely restrained need that pulsed through every inch of his body.

With a low growl, Snape pushed inside you, the thick length of him stretching you to the brink as he buried himself to the hilt. The sensation was overwhelming, your body trembling with the sheer intensity of it as he filled you completely. You could feel every inch of him, the heat of his skin against yours, the raw power in the way he moved.

He set a slow, deliberate pace, his thrusts deep and measured, each one sending waves of pleasure crashing through you. Snape’s gaze never wavered, his eyes locked on yours as he claimed you with every thrust, his hands gripping your hips with a possessive strength that left you breathless.

“You’re mine,” he growled, his voice rough and strained as he drove into you with a primal, almost savage need. “Mine to fuck, mine to fill…mine to breed.”

The words sent a shiver of pleasure through you, your body tightening around him as you let out a low, breathy moan. Snape’s hands gripped your hips harder, pulling you against him with each thrust, his pace quickening as he lost himself in the intensity of the moment.

You could feel the heat building within you, the tension coiling tighter and tighter with every thrust. Snape’s name spilled from your lips in a breathless chant, your hands clutching at his shoulders as he drove you closer to the edge.

Snape's breath was ragged as he buried himself inside you, his trousers bunched up around his ankles, trapped by the boots he hadn't bothered to remove. It didn’t matter to him—nothing mattered now except the primal, driving need to fill you, to claim you in the most profound and intimate way. His dark, greasy hair clung to his forehead as he hovered above you, his pale, angular face set in a mask of intense concentration and desire.

His thrusts were deep, deliberate, each movement calculated to drive you closer to the edge, to ensure that every inch of him was felt within you. His normally stoic expression was marred only slightly by the flicker of pain that crossed his features when he dared to speak. The venomous scars on his neck, the constant reminder of his near brush with death, flared in protest with every word. But his voice—deep, roughened by the damage to his throat—slipped out when he could no longer contain the twisted fantasies that had consumed him.

“Mine,” he rasped, the single word filled with a possessiveness that made your breath hitch. His eyes, dark and intense, locked onto yours as his hand gripped your hip tightly, holding you in place as he thrust into you again, harder this time, his need taking over. “You’re mine.”

The room was filled with the sound of your bodies colliding, the soft crackling of the fire the only other noise breaking the silence. His boots scraped against the floor as he shifted, driving into you with a relentless pace that left no room for doubt about his intentions. The weight of his body pinned you beneath him, the full force of his need pressing down on you.

His mind was filled with images—visions of you swollen with his child, your body heavy with the life he’d put inside you. The thought only spurred him on, fueling the dark hunger that had taken root within him. He could see it so clearly in his mind’s eye—a little girl, with your beauty and his cunning, a powerful witch who would carry on the legacy he had never thought he would pass on.

“You’ll give me a daughter,” he whispered hoarsely, the words a struggle, each one tinged with the pain it caused him to speak. But he had to say it, had to let you know the depths of his desire. His fingers dug into your skin as he pounded into you, the force of his thrusts sending shockwaves of pleasure through your body. “You’ll carry her, and she’ll be perfect…just like you.”

The idea of breeding you, of seeing you swollen with his child, made him almost desperate in his movements. His pace quickened, his hips snapping against yours with a brutal precision that left you gasping, your hands clutching at his shoulders, desperate to hold onto something as he pushed you closer and closer to the edge.

His breathing was labored, the strain of holding back the pain of speaking clear in the way his chest heaved, but he couldn’t stop now. His fingers moved to your clit, rubbing it in slow, teasing circles as he watched the effect it had on you, the way your body responded to him, the way you trembled beneath him. It was intoxicating, knowing that he had this power over you, that he could bring you to the brink of ecstasy with just a few well-placed touches.

“You’re going to be so beautiful,” he continued, his voice barely a whisper, thick with emotion. “Round and full…carrying my child. My daughter.” His eyes were locked on yours, his gaze intense and unwavering as he thrust into you with a newfound urgency. “I’ll protect you…both of you…no one will ever hurt you.”

His words were rough, almost growled out between clenched teeth as the fire within him built to a fever pitch. He was close, so close, and he could feel you tightening around him, the telltale signs of your impending climax pushing him even further.

“Come for me,” he commanded, his voice low and commanding despite the strain. “I want to feel you…want to feel you fall apart around me.”

You were helpless to resist him, your body obeying his every command as the pleasure built to an unbearable peak. Your climax hit you hard, your entire body tensing as waves of ecstasy crashed over you. Snape watched you, his gaze dark and intense, his grip on your hips tightening as he drove into you with a final, powerful thrust.

He could feel you convulsing around him, the tight, wet heat of your climax pulling him over the edge with you. He let out a low, guttural groan as he buried himself deep inside you, his release flooding you with a heat that seemed to burn through him.

For a moment, there was nothing but the sound of your heavy breathing, the crackling of the fire, and the faint rustle of the sheets as Snape remained still above you, his chest rising and falling with the effort of catching his breath. His dark hair fell forward, obscuring his face as he leaned down, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to your forehead, his lips rough and warm against your skin.

“You’re mine,” he whispered one final time, his voice barely more than a breath. “And you’ll give me everything.”

His words hung in the air, a promise, a vow, as he slowly pulled out of you, the sudden emptiness almost jarring after the intensity of what had just passed between you. He laid down beside you, pulling you close to his chest, his long fingers tangling in your hair as he held you tightly, as if afraid to let you go.

In the silence that followed, Snape closed his eyes, the exhaustion finally catching up with him. But even as sleep began to take him, the thought of you carrying his child—his daughter—brought a small, almost imperceptible smile to his lips.

For the first time in years, Severus Snape allowed himself to hope for the future.

After the intensity of your shared moment had begun to settle, you found yourself recovering faster than Severus, whose chest still heaved as he fought to catch his breath. His dark eyes were closed, his pale face flushed with the remnants of passion, and his hair clung to his forehead, damp with sweat. For a brief moment, you simply watched him, your heart swelling with a deep, unspoken affection. It was in these quiet moments, after the storm of his desire had passed, that you felt closest to him—that you saw the man behind the formidable exterior, vulnerable and human.

You moved gently, pressing a soft, sweet kiss to the scarred skin of his neck, your lips lingering just above the spot where Nagini's fangs had once pierced him. His eyes fluttered open at the sensation, and he looked down at you with a mixture of exhaustion and something that might have been tenderness, though he would never admit it aloud. The corners of his mouth twitched, as if he might protest your ministrations, but you silenced him with a look, your eyes conveying a wordless command.

“Don’t move,” you whispered, your voice soft yet firm as you began to reach down, your hands deftly unfastening the boots that had remained stubbornly on his feet. Snape tried to protest, his brows knitting together in irritation at the thought of you taking care of him, but the protest died on his lips when you fixed him with a pointed stare.

“Be quiet, Severus,” you instructed gently, though there was no mistaking the steel behind your words. “Let me do this.”

For once, he complied, his lips pressing into a thin line as he allowed you to help him. It was an act of trust, a rare thing for him, and you didn’t take it lightly. You removed his boots with care, followed by the trousers that had bunched awkwardly around his ankles, your fingers brushing against his skin as you worked. Despite the lingering heat between you, your touch was tender, almost reverent, as you undressed him, revealing the lean, angular planes of his body that were usually hidden beneath his dark, forbidding robes.

When you were finished, you summoned your wand with a simple flick of your wrist, casting a quiet cleaning charm over the two of you. The warm, tingling sensation of the magic swept away the remnants of your passion, leaving you both feeling refreshed, though the intimate connection between you remained unbroken.

You returned to his side, snuggling against him with a contented sigh, your head resting on his chest as you traced lazy patterns on his skin with your fingertips. Snape’s arm wrapped around you almost instinctively, his long fingers threading through your hair as he held you close. You could feel the steady thrum of his heartbeat beneath your cheek, a soothing rhythm that calmed your own.

Lifting your head slightly, you rested your chin on his chest, your eyes meeting his with a mischievous glint. “At this rate, we’ll have a baby soon,” you remarked with a teasing smile, your tone light despite the weight of your words. “You’ve practically made love to me every day since I mentioned you’d be a great father.”

A faint flush colored Snape’s cheeks, though whether from embarrassment or something else, you couldn’t be sure. His gaze flickered with a mix of emotions—desire, uncertainty, and something deeper, something almost fragile. You knew that the idea of fatherhood had taken root in his mind, had sparked a longing that he hadn’t fully realized until you had voiced it aloud.

“It… seems to have stuck in my head,” he admitted gruffly, his voice low and rough as he avoided your gaze, his fingers still gently tangled in your hair. “The idea of… breeding you, of putting babies inside you… it… it turns me on to no end.”

There was a vulnerability in his admission, a raw honesty that was rare for him, and it made your heart ache with affection for the man who had always kept his true self hidden beneath layers of cold detachment. You reached up to cup his face, your thumb brushing lightly over the scar on his neck as you leaned in to press a gentle kiss to his lips.

“I love you, Severus,” you whispered against his mouth, your voice filled with a quiet conviction that left no room for doubt. “And I’d be honored to carry your child… our child.”

Snape’s breath hitched at your words, his dark eyes searching yours as if trying to find the truth in them. When he finally spoke, his voice was soft, almost reverent. “You… would?”

You nodded, your smile widening as you rested your forehead against his, your heart swelling with love for the man who had once believed himself incapable of it. “Of course. There’s no one else I’d want to share this with… no one else I’d trust with this.”

A small, almost imperceptible smile tugged at the corners of Snape’s lips, and he let out a shaky breath as he pulled you closer, his arms wrapping around you with a possessive tenderness that spoke volumes. For the first time in years, he allowed himself to hope—not just for the future, but for a future with you, a future where he could be the man, the husband, and the father he had never believed he could be.

As you lay together in the quiet of the old manor, the fire in the hearth casting a warm glow over your entwined bodies, you felt a sense of peace settle over you—a peace that came from knowing that, despite everything, you had found each other. And as Snape’s hand drifted to rest on your abdomen, his fingers splayed over your skin in a gesture that was both protective and tender, you knew that the love you shared would be enough to carry you through whatever came next.

[just-dreaming-marvel]

TIMELINE ~ LOVE THAT BURNS

LOVE THAT BURNS MASTERLIST

After spending so much time researching and watching the movies, I have rearranged the timeline to work with this series.

This timeline is to help you understand the layout of the series.

This timeline has one thing about the reader, the rest is brief spots of the movies and other important information. I didn't want to include too much about the reader or the changes I'm making to the movies. No spoilers are allowed here.

MAIN STORYLINE TIMELINE

1832: 

James Logan Howlett born

1845: 

Logan’s mutation manifests

Victor Creed (Logan’s half-brother) and Logan runaway

1861 - 1865:

Logan and Victor fight for the Union in the Civil War

1917 - 1918:

Logan and Victor fight for the U.S. Army in World War 1

1930:

Erik Lehnsherr born

THE READER IS BORN

1932:

Charles Xavier born

1934:

Raven Darkholme born

Hank McCoy born

1944: 

Logan and VIctor participate in the D-Day invasion

1945:

Logan saves Ichiro Yashida’s life while imprisoned in a POW camp in Japan

1959:

William Stryker begins his work on mutants

1962:

Charles is paralyzed

Erik forms the Brotherhood of Mutants

1963:

Jason Stryker born

Scott Summers born

1964:

Ororo Munroe born

1965:

Charles opens Xavier’s School for Gifted Youngsters

1967:

Jean Grey born

1972:

Logan and Victor meet William Stryker and join Team X

Logan quits Team X

1974:

Charles reopens the School

1975:

8 year old Jean Grey loses control of her abilities

Charles finds Jean and takes her to the school - he blocks her memories and puts psychic blocks to limit her powers

1978:

William Stryker sends Jason to Xavier’s School but pulls him quickly after finding out that Charles encourages him to embrace his mutation

1979:

Victor Creed hunts down and kills former members of Team X

William Stryker has Victor kidnap mutant children including Scott Summers

Adamantium is injected into Logan’s skeletal system

Logan finds the experimenting facility 

Logan loses his memory

1986:

Piotr Rasputin (Colossus) born

Marie D’Ancanto born

2001:

Marie D’Ancanto discovers her ability

Marie and Logan are brought to Xavier’s School

The X-Men stop Magneto in the Statue of Liberty

Logan leaves to figure out more about his past

2002:

Logan comes back to the school

William Stryker invades the school abducting students and Charles

The X-Men and Magneto break into Stryker’s base at Alkali Lake

Jean Grey dies saving the team

Colossus and Kitty Pryde join the X-Men

2003:

Worthington Labs develops a cure for the x-gene

Jean returns as the Phoenix, killing Scott and later Charles

X-Men and the Brotherhood of Mutants battle it out

Logan kills Jean

Logan then leaves the school

2012:

Ichiro Yashida sends Yukio to search for Logan

2013:

The Wolverine Movie

ENDING ONE TIMELINE

2013:

Trask Industries invades and occupies X-Mansion

Trask Industries announces the updated Sentinel program

2015: 

Charles and Erik find Logan in an Airport and tell them that they need his help

Beast (Hank) is killed

2023:

Mutants are almost extinct – the war is reaching an end

Wolverine’s conscious is sent back in time

Logan is successful changing the timeline from 1973 on

Logan wakes up to find the X-Men alive and the War of the Sentinels never happened

1973:

2023 Logan wakes up in his younger body

Wolverine from 2023 wakes in his younger body

Logan, Charles, Hank, and Peter break Erik out of prison

Mystique is prevented from killing Bolivar Trask

Erik turns against them

Trask Industries unveils the Sentinels Program

Wolverine and Hank fight Erik and a Sentinel while Charles tries to convince Mystique to spare Trask at the White House

The Sentinels Program is canceled and Trask is arrested for selling military secrets

Mystique, under the guise of William Stryker, raises Logan from the Potomac River

ENDING TWO TIMELINE

2015: 

Logan goes back to the school where he finds Charles alive

2018:

Laura is born with her paternal DNA coming from Wolverine

2024:

Deadpool and an alternate Wolverine work together to stop Cassandra Nova from destroying the Multiverse

The TVA allows Laura to come back to her own timeline despite her younger self still being there

The TVA allows Wolverine to come to Laura and Wade’s timeline despite his alternative self still being alive

2026:

Charles suffers a massive psychic seizure that injures over 600 people and killing several X-Men

Logan takes Charles to Mexico, hiding him away so Charles’ deteriorating mind can’t hurt anybody

2029:

The Logan Movie

2035:

Laura is sent to the Void by the TVA

Deadpool time jumps to dig up Wolverine’s body

[crowandmousewritingco]

The Correspondence of the Contagious

Pairing: Oberyn Martell x gn!reader x Ellaria Sand

Words: 1.4 k

Rating: G

Summary: Oberyn is away for a few days and illness comes to Dorne.

Author: Mod Mouse

Notes: This is one of my entries in @burntheedges Roll-A-Trope Challenge! This was so fun to write (and thanks to Mod Crow for the help!) Hopefully I'll have the other fic out next week.

My Dearest Viper, 

I hope the Northern kingdoms aren’t dimming your fiery spirit. I know you were hesitant to adventure so far away from your paramores, but I assure you we aren’t going anywhere. Soon you’ll return to the warm embrace of your land and your lovers. On your return we shall keep you in your room drinking and enjoying the company, filling us with as much pleasure as we could handle. 

Dorne is still quite warm despite the seasons changing. Ellaria and I have been spending our days basking in the sun while we still can. We even made up a nice lunch that we enjoyed under the lemon trees in the grove that you adore so much. Once we were full of delicacies (and a taste of each other) we followed the path through the Water Gardens. We look like pies straight from the oven with the amount of sun on our skins. But it was much needed for the both of us. 

Although something must have kicked up some retched pollen because Ellaria has been stuffed up since then. She insists she is okay (you know how stubborn she gets with this sort of affair), but after some well placed cuddles, she allowed herself some rest. That’s where she is right now. Snuggled up beside me as I write this to you. She’s as beautiful as always with her dark hair spread out like crow feathers on our shared pillows. I wish I could illustrate how beautiful she is. You would delight in the sight of her my dear as I am in this moment of time.

With plenty of rest and your herbal tea mix, she should be right as rain in a day or so. No need to worry your little Prince head about. I can handle our lover’s moods while you handle your duties. We shall see you in a fortnight. I shall pray to the Seven for your safety on your journey. 

Your Dove. 

My Dearest Viper,

I know politics have kept you busy so I hope this letter finds you well. At least in a better condition than our paramore. I fear that whatever illness has graced her body has stayed longer than the foreseen time. Her sniffling has turned into a cold. Poor thing has been coughing bouts that last several minutes. Diluted wine helps in the end but only after acquiring a sore throat. 

That wasn't the only thing she received from this illness. She has acquired a bit of a fever over the last few hours and her energy has lessened. But the Maester believes it’s just the bug that has been spreading throughout the castle. He has given her more herbal remedies and plenty of rest as her medication. 

I will continue to watch her with a careful eye. Once again she is resting beside me. Even in sickness she has my deepest love and adoration. I thank the gods every day that I get to be simply in her presence. 

When she wakes I shall see if she wants to spend some time on our balcony. The Maester said that sunlight would be a nice addition to her healing. Oh and I’ll have those berries brought from the kitchen for her to snack on. She was delighted when we went for our walk. They shall lift her spirit and body. 

I’m afraid my time with you is cut short my dear. Our lover stirs beside us. I will write to you once she finds slumber again. I hope the North is treating you as well as they can. 

Your Dove.

My Dearest Viper 

I pray to the Seven that you receive this letter. I’m afraid the sickness was much worse than anyone could have expected. Her fever is at an ultimate and she hasn’t eaten for a few days. The Maester claims that she will arrive on the other side of this pestilence mountain and I am hopeful too. But it’s hard to have reassurance when your lover shakes like the leaves in the wind. Pelts have been placed on her body but they do nothing to keep her from shivering. She sleeps like a princess with a spell placed on her. I rouse her only to eat and drink. 

I pray your journey will end soon so that your presence can heal her as much as mine. I didn’t want to raise your worry while you were away, but I’m scared. Less severe sickness has taken loved ones, and my soul is in an unrest. I wish for your strength my dear. You have an aptitude for these sorts of situations. 

I wish to keep writing to you, for I feel your presence in these words, but I fear I’ve run out of subjects to discuss. Please return soon my dearest Oberyn. 

Your Dove

What you didn’t tell Oberyn was that you were suffering the same ailments Ellaria was currently experiencing. Your fever was just as high as Ellaria’s and you clung together in sickness, bodies shaking in unison. The need for food seemed like a distant afterthought, and your stomach cramp every time you coughed. 

Ellaria whimpered and your head peaked up. You had tuned your senses to anything she might need during this time even if it meant ignoring your own needs. “My love, let me get you something to drink.” You weakly kissed your head as it took all of your energy to even sit up but you had to do this for her. 

You swung your legs over the sides. The wind felt cold against your bare skin despite the warm summer heat still lingering. Your breath seemed to struggle to enter your lungs, but you pushed yourself up. Ellaria needed you; your body be damned. Carefully your hands braced themselves on the wall. Using the rough texture as your guide, you shuffled your feet in slow deliberate steps. 

But the pestilence in your body had made you weak, for your legs could no longer hold your weight. As you felt yourself pitch forward a strong pair of arms was the only thing stopping you from hitting the ground. The sudden stoppage of momentum threw you off and you couldn’t make heads or tails of what just occurred.

A familiar voice filled the room. “My dove what are you doing out of bed?” You glanced up despite the pounding in your head. Oberyn looked down at your body with worry. Gently he situated you so you were sitting on the edge of the bed. 

“I thought…you’re here,” You said and the weight of the last days finally made themselves known. You teared up and Oberyn guided your weak head to his shoulder, letting your body rest against his chest. 

“I’m here dove,” He soothed your anxieties. Up and down your back his hands soothed your anxieties. He could feel the exhaustion in the way you held your body. You went to speak, but a coughing fit seized you instead. 

“Easy love,” Oberyn soothed, sitting you up slightly, holding your weakened body up. You whimpered as the coughs turned into labored breathing before calming down completely. 

“I-I thought you would never return,” You whispered as tears formed in your tired eyes. 

“My dove. I left the Northern kingdoms as soon as I heard of Ellaria’s ailment,” He reassured you gently brushing your hair from your sweaty forehead. “Those clever ravens still found me. Why didn’t you tell me you were ill too?” 

Tears streamed down your hot cheeks, and with a gentle swipe of his thumb, Oberyn rid of them. “I-I…I was so worried about Ellaria.” 

“Shhh none of that now. I know you were so brave my dearest, but now let me care for my paramores,” Oberyn kissed your forehead before gently laying you back alongside Ellaria. 

Just like you had done for the last several days, you curled up beside her touching your fevered heads together. Oberyn arranged the blankets back into place. He turned around and grabbed the washcloths from the nearby water basin, wringing the excess water. With a gentleness unusual to such a warrior, he placed the cloths, one on Ellaria’s forehead and then one on yours. 

You sighed at the cooling relief of the water, and you felt your eyes drooping the weight of handling this alone dissipating. A gentle hand caressed your cheek. “Rest now my dove. I’m here now,” Oberyn whispered, leaning down to kiss your chapped lips. With your safety net here, you finally let yourself relax as a much needed sleep consumes your consciousness.

All Works Taglist

@for-a-longlongtime @romanarose

Pedro Character Taglist

@littlemisspascal @burntheedges

@carusolikey @thebeldroramscal

@morallyinept @lady-bess

@pedrostories @rivnedell

@pascalsanctuary @readingiskeepingmegoing

Thanks to the lovely @saradika-graphics for the dividers!

[arashi-no-saxlphone]

Screaming along to Requiem this morning and it made me think of the "people like Sol but not I-No" thing again and I just wanna say I know there's issues with how GG handles their women sometimes but like... the GG women are REALLY fucking cool and good. I-No is one of the most incredible narrative foils in fiction to me to both Axl and Sol in different ways. You have Sol Badguy, doomed savior, and I-No, who though we weren't totally aware of it at the start of her character story, has also been put into the same role. The two are at odds because of the future I-No has been cursed to know about and burdened with the idea that she can change said future, and she and Axl are two sides of the same coin in that I-No is stuck in a cycle of chasing a future she cannot change while Axl is stuck in a cycle of chasing a past he cannot return to. And she plays those roles EXTREMELY well. She's written to be a tragic character, doomed by the narrative, because she only has half of what she needs to get what she wants. And she's a Magical Foci - not human - and yet there's deeply human qualities about her that she can't fully embrace because of what she is and the circumstance she's trapped in. I-No willing throws away what little of her humanity is left because she's lost and tired and the crushing weight of all of humanity's hopes being placed into her is so much to bear that she becomes numb - that is a completely understandable reaction that I think anyone can relate to: the exhaustion of existence becoming so great that you just want to give in. She is a foil to Sol, who despite the loss of his humanity refuses to let it go, and chases it to the end, and because of that he's able to save the world (again) at the end of strive. I-No's existence and role in the story is just the other side of Sol Badguy's- it's crazy to me to like one and not the other; their value and narrative weight is identical in my eyes.

Millia and Jack-O both have incredible things to say about the value of one's identity and sense of self. Baiken is a killer example of the gruff revenge-seeking broken person archetype (a role stereotypically fulfilled by male characters) finding acceptance and managing to heal. Bridget tells an exceptional coming-out story (one of the best arcade modes in the game imo the conversation she has with Ky at the end about his fear of going public about his family still gets me). Ramlethal and Elphelt's journey to independence and understanding themselves as more than weapons or puppets. These are characters with incredible narrative weight and substance. It's the essence of Guilty Gear to me.

I don't know, I just thought about this for too long cause of Requiem and thinking about I-No today so sorry for the incoherent dump here.

[solarecliipse]

if i dare to say !

akaashi keiji x reader.

a/n: sooo my laptop got broke, and i had a hard time getting it repaired, which is why this one's coming like a week later than it was suppossed to, but here it is! in some days i'll have the kageyama x reader too, so keep your eyes open. make sure to take care of yourselfs and get enough sleep :)

you can still remember the way he looked at you that day, eyes cold and distant, like a stranger wearing the face of someone you used to know. the words he said, the way he broke you apart, still echoes in your mind like a song stuck on repeat.

“it’s not working,” he had said, his voice devoid of the warmth that once embraced you. “we need to end this.”

you had asked him why, your voice trembling, but he only shook his head, refusing to give out any real answer. “it’s just better this way,” he had said. And then he walked away, leaving you standing there, with your soul shattered into a million pieces.

for weeks, you tried to understand what went wrong, replaying every moment in your head, searching for signs that you might have missed, but all you could find was more pain, more confusion, until you couldn’t take it anymore. you had to let go, even if you didn’t have all the answers.

months passed, and the wounds he left behind began to heal, slowly and painfully. you forced yourself to move on, to build a life that didn’t revolve around him. you surrounded yourself with friends, threw yourself into your work, and even began to rediscover the things that used to make you happy before he came into your life. it wasn’t easy, and there were days when the ache in your chest felt like it would never go away, but you kept pushing forward, determined to find yourself again, to be whole without him, even if it meant staying away from the things you shared.

and just when you thought you were finally getting there, he came back.

you were sitting at a café with a friend, yukie, laughing over some silly story she was telling you, when you saw him. he walked in as if he belonged there, as if he hadn’t ripped your heart out and left you to pick up the pieces alone. 

you froze, laughter dying in my throat. yukie noticed the change of demeanor and followed your gaze. “oh no,” she muttered.

 “what’s he doing here?” you ask in a hoarse voice.

“i don’t know”

he hadn’t seen you yet, and you had half a mind to slip out before he did, but it was too late. your eyes met across the room, and his face lit up with a smile that made your stomach churn.

he walked over, and you couldn’t help but notice that he looked just the same. same tousled hair, same easy smile, as if no time had passed, as if nothing had changed, but everything had changed. at least for you.

“hey,” he said, his voice annoyingly casual. “it’s been a while.”

“yeah,” you replied, your tone clipped. you wanted to say something more, something sharp and biting, but couldn’t find the words.

yukie glanced between you, clearly uncomfortable. “i’ll, uh, leave you two to talk,” she said, grabbing her purse and giving you a look that said, call me if you need an escape. you nodded, appreciating her unspoken offer, but stayed put. even if it hurt, you needed to hear what he had to say.

“so,” he began, once yukie was gone, “how have you been?”

you stared at him, incredulous. “how do you think i’ve been?” you asked, unable to keep the bitterness out of your voice.

he winced, as if the words had physically hurt him. “i know, i know. i messed up, okay? but I’ve been thinking about things, and i realized that i want us to be friends again.”

friends. the word hung in the air between you, heavy and unwelcome. you almost laughed at the absurdity of it. “you can’t be serious,” you spat, crossing your arms over your chest.

“i am,” he insisted, leaning forward as if that would make his words more convincing. “i miss you. i miss us.”

“us?” you echoed, shaking your head. “there is no ‘us’ anymore, remember? you made sure of that.”

he sighed, running a hand through his hair. “i know i screwed up, and i’m sorry for that, but I was going through a lot, and i didn’t know how to deal with it. breaking up was a mistake, i see that now.”

a mistake. that’s what he called it? a simple mistake, like forgetting to return a phone call or misplacing your keys. not the complete and utter devastation of someone’s trust and heart.

“well, it’s a little late for that, don’t you think?” you said, voice shaking. “you didn’t just hurt me, you broke me, and now you think we can just go back to being friends, like nothing happened?”

“i’m not saying we can go back to how things were,” he said quickly. “i just… i miss having you in my life. can’t we at least try?”

you looked at him, really looked at him, and for the first time, didn’t feel that old, familiar pull. the one that used to make you forgive him for everything, that made you overlook the things that hurt. instead, all you could feel was exhaustion, you were tired of fighting for something that was already dead.

“i don’t think we can,” you said quietly, finally admitting the truth to both of you. “too much has happened, and i’ve changed. i’m not the same person you left behind, and i don’t think you are either.”

he looked at you, his expression a mix of regret and something else you couldn’t quite place. “i understand,” he said after a long pause. “i guess i just hoped…”

“yeah,” you cut in, not wanting to hear whatever hope he had been holding on to. “well, we can’t always get what we want.”

he nodded, standing up slowly. “i’m really sorry,” he said, and for the first time, it was like he actually meant it. “for everything.”

you didn’t answer, instead looking away. what was there left to say? he lingered for a moment, as if waiting for you to change your mind, but when you didn’t, he finally walked away.

after he left, you sat there for a long time, staring at the empty seat across from you. and you should have felt relieved, maybe even proud of yourself for standing your ground, but all you could feel was a deep, aching sadness.

[aaronontherun]

Hi folks!

Just wanted to come on here and say a proper hello again after being absent for a while over summer.

Tbh, the whole NG thing did more to me than I thought it would. I was so happy to have found this space and this fandom and the positive vibe and considerate thoughts and carefully crafted fan fics. It was all new to me, but such a warm embrace of an experience.

It was a safe space BECAUSE the creators and the cast and the fandom was so close, I had never found anything like it before.

I don't know if that is too personal or too dramatic, but when the whole thing happened, it felt like finding out one of our parents has secretly been ab*sive. I probably shouldn't view it like that, after all it is "just" a piece of media and we never really know the people behind that...

And I did not realise until much later how much this related to my personal life. *surprise* lol

But the feeling of a safe space fell apart. The whole situation right now feels like everything is afloat and drifting apart and none of us can hold the pieces together.

I am not good at holding space for these drifting situations and messy "in-betweens".

But in the end, it was a good thing that these allegations came forward. All of this happened and would have continued to happen even if we didn't know about it. It is better to confront these things and look them in the eye and tackle the change that is going to come with it and see the opportunities.

S3 will not be the same. And it will be the same at the same time. Aziraphale and Crowley didn't change. Their story remains the same. Their world has not been affected and is as safe as it was before. Their love remains and their affection does, too. Their silly goofy selves will be just as silly goofy. (*reminder to me*)

Alright, time to stop this messy post and get on with it.

Thanks for listening to my rambling.

I hope you are having a lovely day, wherever you are.

Good night for now!

[movingmusically]

Caught Feeling - part 1

Summary: A reserved woman, craving something different, enters a bar and meets Hank, a confident bartender. As their connection deepens, she steps out of her usual quiet self, embracing a night that changes everything.

Note: This is the first writing I’ve ever posted, but after seeing the set pictures yesterday I had to get something down.

The truth is, I don’t really know what possessed me to walk into Paul’s tonight. I’m not the kind of person who normally does things like this—spontaneous, bold, risky. That’s never been me. I’m more the type to stay in, read a book, maybe watch a show on TV if I’m feeling adventurous. I keep to myself, blend into the background. It’s comfortable there. Quiet. Predictable.

But tonight felt different.

I couldn’t take another quiet evening alone, another routine night where nothing happened. Work had drained me, like it always did, and my mind felt clogged with the same old thoughts, the same old worries. So instead of heading home like I usually would, I found myself walking in the opposite direction, pulled by something I couldn’t quite explain.

And that’s how I ended up here, in this smoky, dimly lit bar I’d passed a hundred times but never stepped foot into. Paul’s wasn’t exactly my kind of place—it was gritty, loud, filled with regulars who all seemed to know each other. The kind of place where I would normally feel out of place. But tonight, I didn’t care. Tonight, I wanted to be someone else, someone who didn’t fade into the background.

The second I walked in, I felt the weight of the room shift. It wasn’t so much that people noticed me—most were too engrossed in their drinks or conversations—but I felt different. Out of my element. My nerves buzzed under my skin, that familiar urge to turn around and retreat bubbling up inside me. But I stayed.

Then I saw him.

He was behind the bar, leaning casually against the counter like he owned the place. He had blonde hair, slightly messy and curling at the base of his neck, and a worn baseball cap pulled low over his forehead. But it was his eyes that caught me—blue, sharp, and piercing, like they could see straight through me.

For a moment, I thought about looking away, but I didn’t. Our eyes met, and a slow, lazy smile spread across his face, the kind of smile that made my stomach flip. He didn’t say anything, just held my gaze for a beat too long before going back to pouring drinks.

Something inside me stirred—a mix of nerves, curiosity, and something else. Something I hadn’t felt in a long time. I wasn’t the type to flirt with bartenders or sit alone in a place like this, but tonight, I wanted to see where this could go.

I made my way to the bar, sliding onto a stool and feeling oddly aware of every step, every movement. The alcohol bottles gleamed behind him, and the scent of the room—smoke, wood, a hint of something sharp and musky—wrapped around me. He glanced up again as I sat, and that smile returned, like he was waiting for me to say something.

“What’ll it be?” he asked, his voice low and rough around the edges.

Normally, I’d have some rehearsed response ready, a safe drink order to keep me grounded, but tonight I didn’t want safe. I hesitated, then looked him in the eyes. “Whatever you recommend.”

He raised an eyebrow, clearly amused, and his smirk deepened. “You trust me to pick for you?”

I nodded, suddenly feeling a little bolder, the nervous energy shifting into something lighter. “Yeah. Surprise me.”

He chuckled softly, shaking his head in mock disbelief, and reached for a bottle. “Alright, you asked for it.”

As he poured, I couldn’t help but steal glances at him. He was the kind of guy who moved like he was in control of everything around him, effortlessly confident in a way that drew people in. He slid the drink across the bar with a smooth motion, and when his fingers brushed mine for just a second, I felt a small jolt of electricity shoot up my arm.

“Here you go,” he said, leaning against the bar with that same easy grin. “Let me know what you think.”

I took a sip, the alcohol smooth and a little sharp as it hit my tongue. It warmed me from the inside out, just enough to ease the edge off my nerves without clouding my mind. I wasn’t drunk—not even close—but I felt a little freer, a little braver than I had when I first walked in.

“Not bad,” I said, matching his grin with one of my own.

His eyes flicked over me, curious. “Good to know.”

For a moment, neither of us said anything, but the air between us felt charged. I could feel the pull, the chemistry building between us, and it made my heart race in a way I hadn’t expected. Normally, I’d be tongue-tied, fumbling over my words or retreating into myself, but here, with him, I felt different. Like maybe I didn’t have to be the quiet, shy girl tonight.

“So, you come here often?” I asked, hoping I didn’t sound too cliché.

He chuckled, running a hand through his blonde curls as he glanced around the bar. “I guess you could say that. I work here most nights. Name’s Hank, by the way.”

Hank. It suited him. Strong, simple, with just the right amount of edge.

“I’m—” I started to introduce myself, but before I could finish, a regular at the end of the bar called out, interrupting us. Hank shot me a quick smile, one that promised he wasn’t done with our conversation, and turned to grab the man’s drink.

I watched him as he moved, noticing the way he carried himself, the ease with which he handled the bar. There was something about him—something magnetic. I’d never felt this kind of connection so quickly, and it left me buzzing.

As the night wore on, the bar slowly emptied out, but Hank kept coming back to me, each time with a little more focus, a little more intensity in his gaze. He’d serve another customer, laughing at someone’s joke or flipping a rag over his shoulder with effortless ease, but his eyes always drifted back to me, like he couldn’t help it. Each time he came over, it felt like we were picking up a conversation that had never really paused. It wasn’t about the words as much as the attention—his focus, the way he leaned in slightly, like there was nothing else in the room that mattered.

I felt the alcohol warming me, loosening my usual hesitation. The buzz wasn’t enough to blur anything—I was still very much in control—but it made me bolder. More comfortable in my skin than I’d felt in a long time.

Hank slid another drink toward a regular at the far end of the bar, then came back to where I sat, resting his hands on the counter. He gave me a crooked smile, a kind of companionable look that made me feel like maybe we’d known each other longer than just tonight.

“So, what brings you to Paul’s? You don’t exactly blend in with the usual crowd.” His tone was easy, conversational, like he was genuinely curious.

I shrugged, glancing around. “Just needed a change of scenery, I guess. This isn’t exactly my usual kind of place.”

He chuckled, leaning against the bar, his blue eyes flicking up to the TV screen for a moment where the end credits of the Giants game were rolling. “Yeah, I kind of figured. You’ve got that look—like you’re used to being somewhere else.”

“Somewhere else like… where?” I asked, curious what he saw in me.

He thought about it for a moment, his expression thoughtful. “I dunno. A café, maybe? Somewhere quiet. You strike me as someone who likes peace.”

I smiled at that. “You’re not wrong. I’m usually more of a coffee shop girl than a bar regular.”

“Let me guess,” he said, resting his chin on his hand, “you’ve got a favourite corner seat, always reading something, probably with a notebook you scribble thoughts into. And you drink black coffee. No sugar.”

I couldn’t help but laugh, the sound surprising me with how relaxed it felt. “Okay, close. But I take a little sugar.”

His smile widened, and he tilted his head. “Noted. So what’s got you here tonight, then? A coffee shop doesn’t seem like a bad place to be.”

I glanced down at my glass, feeling the edge of vulnerability creeping in, but there was something about Hank that made it easy to talk. “I don’t know… I just didn’t feel like being alone tonight. Work’s been… exhausting, and I just needed to get out of my head for a while.”

Hank nodded, his eyes softening a little. “Yeah, I get that. This place is kind of a sanctuary for people like that. You wouldn’t believe the stories I’ve heard over the years. Some people come here just to get away from whatever’s weighing them down.”

I looked at him, suddenly more curious about the man behind the bar. “What about you? Why do you work here?”

He leaned back slightly, glancing around the room as if he hadn’t really thought about it before. “I guess… it’s the people. There’s something about this place that keeps me coming back. It’s real, you know? Nobody’s pretending to be someone they’re not.”

I nodded, understanding that more than I expected. “I like that. People here just seem… honest. Raw, almost. It’s refreshing.”

His eyes flicked back to mine, a small smile tugging at his lips. “Yeah, it is. You seem like someone who’s pretty good at keeping things together. Like you don’t let people see the raw parts too often.”

I blinked at that, surprised at how easily he seemed to read me. “Yeah… that’s true. I don’t usually put myself out there.”

Hank’s smile softened, and he folded his arms on the bar, leaning in just a little more. “Well, you’re doing a good job of it tonight. Stepping into Paul’s alone—that’s not nothing.”

I felt a warmth rise in my chest, not from the alcohol but from his words. He wasn’t teasing me or trying to flirt—he was just saying what he saw. And somehow, that meant more. “Yeah, well… tonight feels different. Maybe I needed something that wasn’t… me.”

He nodded slowly, his gaze thoughtful. “Sometimes that’s exactly what you need. Something different. Something unexpected.”

There was a pause, and I could feel the quiet stretch between us, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. It felt like we were on the same wavelength, both of us enjoying the simplicity of the conversation without the need for games or pretense.

“You don’t seem like you’re trying to blend in tonight, though,” he said after a moment, his voice lighter now, a bit of a smile creeping back onto his face. “Sticking around all this time, you must be enjoying yourself.”

I tilted my head, a little smile of my own tugging at the corners of my mouth. “Maybe I am.”

Hank’s smile grew as he picked up a bottle and started to clean up the bar a bit, but he kept talking, his focus still partly on me. “You know, people come in here with all kinds of expectations. Some want to disappear, some want to be seen. What do you want?”

I thought about it for a moment, my fingers tracing the edge of my glass. “I’m not really sure. Maybe just to feel… different. For once.”

Hank nodded, wiping down a glass as he considered my words. “I get that. Sometimes you just want to shake things up, step outside yourself for a bit.”

I glanced at him, feeling a strange sense of relief that he understood. “Exactly. It’s like I just needed a change. To feel something different.”

He placed the glass down and leaned back on the bar, his blue eyes steady on mine. “Well, I think you’re doing a good job of that. You seem pretty different from the girl who walked in here earlier.”

I smiled at that, realising he was right. I did feel different—bolder, freer, more like the person I wanted to be, at least for tonight.

“Thanks,” I said softly, feeling a little more at ease.

Hank gave me a nod, his voice quiet but sincere. “Sometimes you just need a night like this, right? Something out of the ordinary.”

“Yeah,” I agreed, looking down at my nearly empty glass before glancing back up at him. “And I don’t regret coming in here tonight.”

He smiled, a genuine warmth in his expression. “I’m glad you did.”

By now, it was late, and the crowd had thinned to just a few regulars. The Giants game he’d been glancing at throughout the night was long over, and the bar felt quieter, more intimate. Hank wiped down the counter, tossing the rag over his shoulder as he looked at me again, those blue eyes dark and unreadable.

“You wanna get out of here?” His voice was low, the words hanging in the air between us like a challenge.

I blinked, my heart skipping a beat. Normally, I’d hesitate, second-guess myself, but tonight, I didn’t feel like that person. I felt alive. Bold.

“Yeah,” I said softly, “I do.”

The cool night air hit my skin the moment we stepped outside, but it did little to cool the fire that had been burning between us all night. The alley behind the bar was dimly lit, shadows stretching across the walls, but I barely noticed. All I could focus on was him—the way his broad shoulders moved, the way his hands flexed at his sides as if he was holding himself back.

We stopped just outside the door, and before I had time to second-guess myself, he turned to me, stepping in close. The space between us disappeared in an instant, and I felt his hand at my waist, pulling me gently but firmly against him. My breath caught in my throat, and for a split second, all I could do was look up into those mesmerising blue eyes, my heart pounding in my chest.

Then he kissed me.

It wasn’t gentle. It wasn’t slow. His lips crashed against mine, urgent and hungry, like he’d been waiting all night for this moment. His hands gripped my waist, pulling me closer as his mouth moved against mine, and I kissed him back just as fiercely, my fingers instinctively finding their way to the base of his skull. His hair was soft, curling around my fingers as I tangled my hands in it, pulling him closer.

He let out a low, guttural sound, the kind of sound that sent shivers down my spine and made my knees weak. His hands slid up my back, his fingers digging into my skin as he pressed me against the brick wall behind us. The roughness of the wall was a stark contrast to the heat of his body, and I arched into him, wanting—needing—to be closer.

My hands stayed tangled in his hair, pulling him down harder as his lips moved to my neck, trailing hot, open-mouthed kisses along my jawline.

This wasn’t me. This wasn’t the shy, quiet girl who kept to herself, who avoided risks. But right now, with Hank’s body pressed against mine, his lips on my skin, I didn’t care. All I cared about was him, the way he made me feel—alive, bold, free.

And I wasn’t about to stop.

His breath was hot against my skin as his lips moved lower, trailing down my neck, and I could feel every nerve in my body igniting. I tugged at his hair again, just enough to pull him back to my mouth, and when our lips met, the kiss was even more intense—desperate, as if we both knew this moment was everything we had been building up to all night.

I could feel his body press harder against mine, his hands roaming over my waist, my hips, pulling me even closer as though the small space between us was unbearable. My back hit the rough surface of the brick wall again, but the discomfort only heightened the sensation. The world outside the alley faded away—there were no more sounds from the bar, no distant cars, just the pounding of our hearts and the shared heat between us.

When he finally pulled back, his breathing was ragged, and he rested his forehead against mine, his blue eyes searching my face in the dim light. “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that,” he murmured, his voice low and thick with desire.

I swallowed, my breath still catching in my throat. “I think I do,” I whispered back, unable to stop the smile that tugged at my lips.

He chuckled softly, the sound vibrating through his chest. “I thought I had you all figured out, but… you keep surprising me.”

“I’m surprising myself,” I admitted, my fingers still tangled in his hair, feeling the warmth of his scalp beneath my touch. “But I like it.”

He pulled back just enough to look at me fully, his gaze softening for a moment, as if he was trying to read me—trying to make sure I was still in control, still wanting this as much as he did. And I was. More than I’d ever imagined.

“What now?” His voice was a little quieter, a little less hurried, but still laced with that same intensity.

I didn’t need to think about it. I leaned forward, pressing my lips to his again, this time slower, more deliberate, savouring the feel of him, the taste of his mouth. “I don’t want this to stop,” I whispered between kisses, my hands sliding down to grip his shoulders, feeling the tension in his muscles as he held back.

He groaned softly against my lips, his hands gripping my hips tighter. “It doesn’t have to.”

The way he said it, so sure, made my heart race even faster. We were in an alley behind a bar, but in this moment, it didn’t matter. Nothing felt rushed or wrong. It felt like exactly where we were supposed to be. Like I had finally stepped into a part of myself I’d been avoiding for too long. And with him, it felt… right.

The intensity between us burned hotter, and soon, his hands were back on my waist, sliding under my shirt, his fingers grazing the skin there in a way that made me gasp. I could feel the roughness of the brick wall behind me, but all I could focus on was him—his touch, his breath, the way he seemed just as lost in this as I was.

But there was something else too, a sense of grounding I hadn’t expected. He wasn’t rushing. He wasn’t pushing. He was waiting, following my lead, giving me the space to feel, to take in every second of this. And I knew, in that moment, that whatever happened next, it was because we both wanted it. Because we were both ready for it.

“I’m not going anywhere,” he whispered, his lips brushing the edge of my jaw.

“Good,” I breathed, my hands slipping down to his chest, feeling the rapid beat of his heart under my palms. “Because neither am I.”

And as the world around us continued to disappear, the night taking over, I knew that whatever came next—whether it lasted for just this night or beyond—it would be the best decision I’d ever made.

[x1yun4]

Here's a message from your inner child.

Do you want a personal reading? Check out my carrd.

Disclaimer.

Readings are to help you gain clarity and insight on your current situation and what you can do for your own benefit. Take what resonates and leave what doesn't.

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Pile 01.

Eight of Wands in reversed.

What does your inner child want to tell you?

Are you feeling helpless? Do you feel as if there's no hope left, no light shining upon you? Like a once-flourishing flower now wilting in the shadows, yearning for the sun? Life may not seem to be falling into place the way you'd hoped, but deep within, your inner child is whispering for you to let go of these worries. That child, full of innocence and wonder, is reminding you that you're not meant to be weighed down by life's burdens. You're meant to thrive, to experience joy, to have fun. It's easy to become consumed by outcomes, to be so hyper-focused on achieving results that you lose sight of the present. But it's in this very moment that life truly unfolds. The magic lies not in reaching the finish line, although you might believe it does, but in living each step of the journey. You've spent too much time lingering in past memories or future anxieties, neglecting the beauty of the here and now. Your life is not in those distant places. It is in the present moment, where your power lies. Movement is always present, even if it doesn't seem obvious to you. Though you may feel stuck, as though nothing is changing, the world around you is constantly shifting, evolving, and progressing. You may I not perceive it with your senses, but transformation is always occurring. Trust in this unseen movement, and understand that life is happening for you, not to you. Embrace the moment, release your worries, and allow yourself to flow with the currents of now. You are not meant to fade into the shadows, but to bloom in the light.

Pile 02.

Four of Wands.

What does your inner child want to tell you?

Your inner child sees and appreciates all the hard work you put in, but sometimes you just need to step back, unwind, and trust the process. Why? Because success is already within you, and it doesn't require you to exhaust yourself. Trust yourself more instead of believing you need to push yourself to the breaking point, work tirelessly, or endure pain to achieve your goals. These are myths spread by society, suggesting that endless sacrifice is the only way to success. But the truth is, you don't need to suffer to succeed. Let go of the pressure to constantly perform, and instead, allow yourself to be open to help from others. The world is filled with love, even when it doesn't always seem that way. You don't have to bear every burden alone. Reach out, accept support, and recognize that you are not alone on this journey. When you close yourself off, you limit your ability to connect with the abundance of love and assistance that surrounds you. Also, remember that your imagination is the only true reality. The 3D physical world, on the other hand, is always neutral. It only reflects back what you project onto it. By shifting your inner world-nurturing thoughts of self-belief, relaxation, and trust-you can create the reality you desire. Stop letting the external world define your worth or dictate how hard you need to work. Trust that you are enough as you are, and that success is inevitable when you align with your true self, rather than force it from a place of fear or pressure.

Pile 03.

Knight of Pentacles.

What does your inner child want to tell you?

Your inner child is urging you to take responsibility and save yourself from your current state. It's time to stop waiting for someone else to do the work for you, and instead, take action toward your goals. Manifest your desires, shift your mindset, and believe that things can be easier than you think. Set a routine, make changes-anything to get the momentum going that works for you. The worst thing you can do to yourself is to remain stagnant, stuck in the same cycle of inaction (stagnation ≠ taking a break for your own sake). Working hard doesn't mean burning yourself out by working nonstop. Don't fall into the trap of thinking that because you're not "working as hard" as others, your efforts are meaningless, and that you shouldn't even bother trying. Perhaps you're scared of failure, but by not doing anything at all, that is true failure. Stop comparing yourself to others. This journey is yours alone, and it's never been about anyone else. The only person you need to be better than is who you were yesterday. Even taking a single step forward is progress. Even a thought of improvement, a spark of hope, is better than staying in a state of despair without trying to lift yourself out of it. You must avoid developing a victim mindset, where you feel powerless and stuck, but at the same time, don't adopt a mindset that invalidates your pain or struggles. It's crucial to show yourself empathy and compassion, to acknowledge that your feelings are real and valid. But alongside that compassion, you need to start actively working toward what you want. Your inner child is telling you it's time to stop ignoring your own needs and desires. You're sabotaging yourself by remaining passive, and deep down, you know it. Now is the time to start taking the steps, even small ones, to improve your life.

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[nondelphic]

Hi!

I need advice. I love writing characters but every time I need to write their personality, I feel stuck and I never knew where to start.

Can you give me advice on how to write well-written and rounded characters (personality wise)?

hi lovely! (｡•‿•｡) thanks for the ask!

i def see where you're coming from. writing character personalities can feel like such a challenge, but don’t worry, i’ve got some advice to help you out (potentially!) ♡

♡ start with their core motivation:

ask yourself: what does this character really want? what’s their deepest desire or goal? (〜￣▽￣)〜 whether it’s love, success, freedom, or just a quiet life, their personality often grows from this. someone who’s super ambitious might be more driven and focused, while someone who wants peace may be more chill and easygoing! once you know their motivation, it’s easier to shape everything else around it (´｡• ᵕ •｡`).

♡ embrace contradictions!

no one is just one thing, right? we’re all a mix of traits, and so are your characters! (≧◡≦) give them little contradictions that make them feel real—like being super confident around others but secretly a bit insecure, or being kind but also a little stubborn when things don’t go their way. these quirks make them feel human and relatable! (´ω`)

♡ observe real people!

one of the best ways to create realistic characters is to look at the people around you! (o^▽^o) take note of how your friends, family, or even people online act. what do they do when they’re happy, sad, or stressed? use those little moments to inspire your character’s unique personality! (☆ω☆).

♡ let them grow!

remember, your characters don’t have to be fully formed from the start! (❁´◡`❁) just like us, they’ll change and grow throughout the story. maybe they start off shy and become more confident, or they learn to trust others. their journey is just as important as the plot.

i know some of this advice can feel a little boring or too “by the book.” i’m a huge advocate for not sticking to traditional writing "rules" (´◡`)! but honestly, i followed a lot of these tips during a creative writing summer course at uni this year, and it really helped me finish my first ever complete novel draft (which i never thought i’d do)! ♡ so take what works for you and make it your own. ♡＼(￣▽￣)／

sending you lots of creative energy! you’ve got this! (๑˃ᴗ˂)ﻭ♡

[ghostiidasponk]

GNSUFGHHHHH BATHYUB MERMAID AZUL HAS MY BRAIIIINNNNNNN

brainrot below the cut but HEAR ME OUT

tw: non graphic body dysmorphia, angst, VERY DARK

I will embrace

Embrace your membranes, your bones

And keep you cool

Then, I will squeeze out

Squeeze out your evil, your grim and your woe

Transform myself

Once and for all

Sink into the tub

Reborn, Reform, Twist my legs to one and mind to none.

Tell me, tell me,

What do you see In the mirror that's covered in chalky steam

Touch me, touch me, Kiss me to sleep

So I can breathe

Cut me open and give me gills

^^^ OK SO HEAR ME OUT BUT LIKE

something something MC finds Azul (merform) on the beach (NRC isnt a thing in this au LET IT HAPPEN), crying because he constantly gets bullied by mermaids/ hates himself a lot- but then MC finds him so captivating (because omg OCTOMER?1!1?1?) and decides to take Azul home and keep him in his bathtub (IM STILL WORKIMG THAT PART OUT) but Azul still ignores Yuu because he's still thinking about those mermaids, he's still thinking about the harsh words, still wants to be accepted by them

but Yuu loves Azul so much, so much that they even start changing themselves *physically* for him, looking for mermaid scales to stick to their body, twisting their two legs into one to make a mermaid tail- because maybe when they're finally a mermaid- a mermaid that recognizes Azul and accepts him for who he is, then maybe they could finally, *finally* have that taste of a love they oh so desperately longed from him.

and that's when Azul finally recognizes just how much Yuu loves him- that they're even willing to change in horrifying, self destructive ways that he sees that the more Yuu's infatuation grows for him, the more his mind spirals into madness- and Azul can't help but love Yuu because 'oh my god you're destroying youtself for me that's so sweet and concerning.'

And I know Azul would probably like,,, make a contract or something to turn Yuu into a mermaid but BUT FOR THE SAKE OF THE SONG PSLSPSLPSLSPSSL LETS PRETEND ANOYHER SCENARIO

With tweezers and nippers, Trim off my fins

And forever I'll be yours

I won't fight or make you cry

Whatever you need, Whenever you need

I'll be by your side

And then I gave you my eyes, To see all the colours

And then I gave you my ears, To hear all the sirens

And then I gave you my heart, To fill in the emptiness in your chest

And then I gave you my brain, So that you can learn to love

That's right baby, as the lyrics suggest Azul starts giving Yuu his ACTUAL body parts to get them closer and closer to being a mermaid- wanting to help Yuu reach their goal, as sick as it is

Tell me tell me, What do you see

In the water that's clinging onto my skin

Cut me cut me

Please make it deep

If I'm covered in scars, Will you look at me

Kiss me kiss me, Don't leave me be

I'm a bathtub mermaid, I cannot swim but only sing

Just pull the plug

Flush down all your memories

Into the sea

At the end of it all, Azul begs for Yuu to forget about him, to go back to living the life before they met Azul, before they started ruining themselves, before they descended into madness, when they were still happy, a self-sacrifice for a self-sacrifice.

haha anyway yeah thanks for listening to my ted talk good night folks. Very scuffed very last minute- but if you wanna sing to the song it's 'Bathtub Mermaid' by Mili :3c

this entire thing was inspired by a song interpretation I found online- I'm gonna look for the link and post it here mwehehe

[lock-my-feelings-in-a-jar]

the more i think about it, the more changing my url might be a thing that i might do one day in the far off(probably) future. i need things around me to be as different as i feel

[demadogs]

When a typical virus attaches itself to its host, it duplicates, right? It spreads, essentially hijacking the host… What is so unusual here is that this virus, the infected hosts seem to be communicating.

Stranger Things season two (2017)

[uncanny-tranny]

I love you smile lines and worry lines and grey and white hair and wrinkles and purple spiderweb veins and the process of aging and living in a body that is standing the test of times. I love you experiences that make you wiser and stories that make you laugh, and every little process that happens to get to the point where you have so many memories because you have the fortune to be here and be so radiant

[crownedwille]

.

[sysig]

I decided to give a go to @niennanir’s lovely print-your-own-fic recipe on my Inside and Out as a test run and I’m quite pleased with the results as a first pass :D

I wish I’d taken a few more process pictures but there was a slight lull as I had to go shopping for 12x12 cardstock lol, but! I do have a couple closeups/extras that I added for funsies :D

I went with freehanding the title and I think in the future I would opt to not do that lol, at least not without a printed template. That said, both LibreOffice and SAI refuse to recognize my SCII fonts >:0 If you notice on the first page, I used the Ace Attorney font in italic haha, it’s an okay alternative even if it’s not what I actually want |0 I am happy with the gold detailing tho :3c

I did have an unconscionable amount of fun freehanding the ship caption tho ahh <3 <3 Immediate happy stims upon completion, their names together look so pretty ♥ Credit to Zarla’s original minicomic on that one :3

I also managed to get the last sentence of the fic isolated on the last page thanks to the formatting haha ♪

I was also able to add a bookmark! Ma happened to have a couple very thin ribbons to choose from and red ended up complementing the green very prettily!

It reminds me of VUX tongues hehehehe ❤️💕💖💞