#saw a picture of myself from when i was really struggling with my body image when i was younger and started sobbing

[butch-himbo-king]

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[donnerpartyofone]

anon here who feels a great kindred spirit with you, maybe one day i'll have the guts to message not anonymously but frankly i really admire you and also struggle with the mortification of putting myself out there directly it may be one day but not today. ANYways. just saw your post re: the knee-jerk reaction of ppl to say something like "no! everyone is special (or beautiful/smart/talented/etc.) in their own way!" when you or i tries to acknowledge something that is real to us and that affects our day to day life. ive touched on stupidity before bcuz that is something that you've articulated better than i ever could but you were talking in that post a little more specifically abt physical beauty and i do think theres something to be said there for usamerican individualism. bcuz ive heard a lot that other countries/cultures find our particular brand of individualism to be weird to say the least. and i have, for most of my life (and this is true now), had a body that has been perceived as very desirable (eg. skinny, but still have tits and an ass, proportionally "good", etc.) but my face i have always known does not live up to beauty standards. bcuz of this, ppl closer have had a hard time understanding why i struggle so much with self esteem related to my looks and have often jumped to "but youre so pretty!" when i try to talk abt it. the outside of this is that i look like a child in the face and am often mistaken for a child even at 28. when i was an actual child, read: 18 and under, i received a LOT of attention from men, often men who were old enough to be my father. now that i am not a child that attention has waned, even though i've put on a little weight and my body is frankly more rocking than ever. BUT my face stays unchanged and i think i have so of an uncanny valley effect on ppl now. im bringing all this up bcuz this is another piece of kinship i feel with you: even before i started really paying attention to your posts discussing things, i really admired your selfies bcuz you and i actually look pretty similar, we have the same texture of hair and a similar face. but i have always felt that, from your pictures, you seem much more "in control" of your look than i do. i love your sense of style and i love how you do your brows so dark and dramatic but also seem to wear (as far as i can tell; im not much for makeup so correct me if im wrong) relatively little makeup otherwise. regardless of how you look, you project an image (as always, i know i can only know you parasocially so take this as much or as little as you want to) of someone who knows how they look and how they want to present themselves. i personally keep my head buzzed most of the time, and when i first started doing it, i did it bcuz it meant that no one had any excuse anymore. they had to look at my face and acknowledge my whole bare face with no distractions. it was a way of directing how i was perceived. now i dont know if thats what your brows are to you but ive always thought "wow, the dramatic brow is such a masterful use of makeup and direction". ive always seen the way you present yourself as seeming thoughtfully and well curated, and ive hoped for myself that i could someday present that way. as you can tell, i really admire you lol. hope im not being weird. im not really sure what my point is here but once again you articulated something well that i only have ruminated on abstractly.

i've also been thinking of you bcuz recently i ran up against the old "im too stupid to do this normal thing and now it may badly affect my life" situation: tried to put my tabs on my car and bcuz they were taped to the paper, they just broke into pieces on the tape when i tried to peel them away. so i just panicked and badly pieced them onto my license plate in a way im sure will seem infinitely more suspicious should a cop notice and decide to pull me over. my husband tells me tabs are supposed to do this as an anti theft measure, this is information i somehow missed in my 28 years of life and 12 years of being a legal driver. and if i get pulled over im not honestly sure i know where all my necessary paperwork is and will undoubtedly start shaking from anxiety which also looks suspicious when i try to hand a cop my id and my hand is shaking like a leaf. and i havent been pulled over yet but now every time i drive my car im going to be thinking abt it. god willing the distraction of fear of the unknown wont lead me to crashing my car but thatd be just the thing id do too. just wanted to share bcuz i think youre probably the only person who understands how it feels and bcuz hey, i want you to know youre not the only one out there muddling through life as a series of actions and unforeseen consequences, no matter how foreseen those consequences "shouldve been".

sorry for this long and rambling message. i have no two-ipas excuse this time as its morning here and im stone cold sober (the ipas were the voodoo juice ranger by the way) but you just make me think a lot, and again, i admire you very much. thanks as always and i hope that today is, if not easier on you, at least tolerable in terms of its challenges.

Dearest field correspondent, I wish I had a more thoughtful, interesting response to your kind message, but unfortunately you may receive instead le big rant. I am very low self-control lately and you're all going to have to pay for it! I'm thinking about my 85 year old father-in-law who is still razor sharp and full of energy, and so he is vividly aware of the nearness of death and very anxious about it. At his birthday dinner he started preaching to my husband and me about how you just have to live every minute you've been given to its fullest, and I often think about how he's right and he's wrong at the same time. Like it's patently correct that you should treasure whatever life you're allowed, but I think it would take a mental giant to really do that unless you're just basically a terrific person with few problems. If your personal chemistry makes you feel bad all the time due to circumstances or past trauma or plain old bad wiring, it's really hard to just consciously choose to feel good and be filled with gratitude and slurp all the delicious marrow out of your day. And what if your days don't have that much marrow to begin with? Of course if the Christmas ghosts came and snatched you up and confronted you with the preciousness of the life you are squandering, that you can still redeem if you try, that would change your tune, but it's hard to get that same kind of life-changing effect by just intellectually acknowledging the value of yourself and your time on earth.

(I'm gonna put a break here so I don't eat up everybody's dash, brb)

I was thinking about this, in a way, because somebody just asked me for a head shot for this project I'm on, so I was going through selfies to see if I had anything appropriate, and man was that depressing. Of course Tumblr was serving a jumble of new and old pictures, but some of them looked really good, even recent ones. And I know I wasn't enjoying myself at the time that I took them, any of them. I was just struggling to feel good about myself out of some perverse sense of obligation. I've always had the urge to express something with my appearance, to build up some kind of power and efficacy around what I could do with it, but I never felt anything like that happening. I mean for every selfie that was good enough to post, there are at least 100 I had to throw out that were ugly and embarrassing and more like "the real me". And I know just from living my life that I'm not attractive, my entire social experience does not reflect that of an attractive woman; even among the guys I dated, it's hard to weigh the two who actually liked me against the majority who were just indiscriminately looking for some pathetic specimen to torture and humiliate in order to feel good about themselves.

(And I guess this is TMI but who really cares, I'm sure no one is even reading this, but the irony is that I'm really great in bed. It's a fact. I just love sex and I'm not at all embarrassed about it and I have a knack for getting people comfortable really letting loose and getting to do what they truly want. I know this for sure not only from being in the room, but from detailed postscript testimonials from partners--even the ones who secretly hated me. And naturally that makes me feel pretty good, but it feels incomplete somehow, without the sense of control of my own appearance, without a satisfying relationship to my own body which disgusts me and is constantly causing me unmanageable problems both aesthetic and medical. Like I really want to just crumple it up and throw it in the trash, who fucking cares)

But I see some of those (highly staged, illusory, pain-in-the-ass to shoot) selfies and for a second I'm forced to wonder why that person had to feel so bad about and not have any fun at all, every single day. And now it's extra hard because as I might have said, I've had rosacea for around 15 years, and most of the time it was just a fairly manageable if embarrassing redness, but ever since I took the asthma medication Symbicort for a month this summer, the condition has been progressively deforming. I don't even look the same as I did this fall, and I have no reason to believe things will get better or even level out. Like, this is it. I feel like I don't even have the same skull shape as the girl in these cute pictures from September. I'm stressing myself out wondering about all kinds of procedures I can barely pay for, that could potentially make it worse actually. I'm wondering if I need to quit my public-facing volunteer gig, one of the only things that gives my life meaning, because I'm sick of how red and bloated and wet I look in every single livestream, and I don't like it when I'm occasionally accused of being drunk or I'm randomly told to "calm down" because I looked like I'm panicking even when I'm not. I don't know what to do. I wish I didn't care. But it's tough to look back at old pictures, even just from six months ago, and think Damn I didn't know how much worse things were about to get, I should have live-laugh-loved through every grueling moment of my luxurious mediocrity while I still had it to enjoy!

--On that note there's a certain curse of women who are like, not ugly enough for it to feel like a hopeless case, but who also don't actually have much potential to do anything satisfying with themselves. If you absolutely know that beauty isn't an open road for you, you can choose not to waste energy on that and you can focus on any number of other things that can make your life happy and meaningful; but if you have that nagging suspicion that maybe you COULD be finding exciting ways to express yourself through your looks, then you're dogged by this feeling of dissatisfaction and constantly wondering if it would be better if you just threw in the towel and called yourself ugly so you could stop thinking about it, or if that would be wasteful because maybe something nice would happen if you just made more of an effort, maybe there's still time, maybe you need the right haircut, maybe you need to shake up your wardrobe, maybe you need to learn that advanced hygiene routine that you always found too confusing to master, maybe you just need to get in shape, maybe et al ad nauseum. It would be better not to have to wonder about it all. And of course there's social pressure to maintain ambiguity, especially for women: You're supposed to work really hard to be hot, but you're supposed to act like it's all effortless and also like you have no idea how attractive you are. But you can't be unrealistically humble or people will hate you for that, too--they'll hate you for being dishonest, or they'll give you shit about your apparent self-esteem issues, because somehow that is always everybody's business. You can't win!

You're right that I don't wear much makeup, I really never learned; I never had a mom who was interested in me or the kinds of female friends who help you learn all the pageantry. I wore some makeup for a little while at the end of my 20s because I had to go to my fancy brother's wedding and I was embarrassed about looking raw and dowdy forever in his fancy wedding photos, so I forced myself to learn a few things. But basically I don't want to be bothered, and I enjoy the Joan Crawford brow I do, but that's utilitarian also--if I'm not paying attention I'll rip all the eyebrow hairs out of my face, which is extra embarrassing if it happens in the middle of a work day or something. So now the pencil is essential! And since my face started turning red I usually use some primer and foundation that I really like, although there is very little that keeps my head from looking like a big swollen clown nose, from now on. (All of my minimal supplies are from Make Up For Ever btw, expensive but long-lasting and reliable)

Unrelated but I'm really pissed off that I can't drink anymore, because now it brings on this violent painful flushing, and every time that happens it causes progressive destruction and like, basically every day is worse than the last--which is true anyway about aging, but it's escalated for me. But like, I have severe depression and anxiety and I can't be on any mood medications because they make my tinnitus intolerable, so the only thing I could reliably do for myself was have a little alcohol. Like just half a can of beer would get me through so many tough chores and bouts of mindless fear. And I love wine, I love amari, I love whiskeys, I love esoteric cocktail nonsense, I have a ton of friends from the craft beer world, and now basically there are entire art forms that I can't enjoy anymore, like ever again. And you can bet this is going to affect my relationships. I know people will want to say that's bullshit, quitting drinking is practically always a good thing and your "real friends" will stick with you sober...but that's all pretty hyperbolic. I don't want my life to be winnowed down to only the purest stuff. I don't want this cornerstone of my social and cultural life to be ripped out from under me. I never even developed any bad behaviors to deserve this! And god knows I don't want to have absolutely zero options for calming my nerves. Therapy and yoga and meditation have done nothing for me psychiatrically. I'm just fucked, really, in the dreariest most mundane way possible.

I wouldn't be so hung up on getting drunk and looking pretty if I had some other source of meaning, but it's hard to find that essential driving force when you can't even get through the day's chores like a normal person. I'm on like day 5 of trying to fold my clothes or even just shove them into bags, and I live in terror of the avalanche that is going to happen when one of us needs to get out the bed sheets that I "put away" dangerously in the closet, despite multiple attempts to do it right. I don't drive so you're ahead of me on some level! But I'm 100% positive I wouldn't have understood all that stuff about the tabs, haha. This week I'm seeing my GP and I'm going to ask for a psych referral for evaluations for autism and ADHD. I'm scared that I'm opening myself up to being officially diagnosed as just lazy and negative and then everyone will get to tell me I Told You So about how my only issue is my poor attitude, but I'm sure there's something going on with me, and if it's ADD and god forbid I can get a little medication of some kind that allows me to like wash dishes and do laundry like a normal person without making everything exponentially worse...then, you know, that would be a really big deal. It seems to me that a lot of people are depressed because of some unfulfilled dream they had of being really sexy and cool and talented, or some other superlative--and we usamericans do experience a lot of irrational cultural pressure to be Awesome at something, I'm not looking down on people who suffer from this--but all I want is to like, get on the bus successfully. To not humiliate myself every single time I go to ship a package because I just can't figure out what's going on, yet again. To not be having constant wardrobe malfunctions. To vacuum my house without just mysteriously pushing dirt and hair around into different configurations. To cook a nice simple meal I don't destroy. To have a job again. These are my most treasured fantasies. Maybe if we both put pressure on "the Universe" to "manifest" our dreams this year, then we can have a great 2024!

[fondwand]

I'm enraged. I'm actually enraged. So understand that that's fuelling this rant and I'm really sorry if this comes off as condescending or preachy or whatever, but I've just come across an article talking about Taylor Swift's anti-hero video, criticising her for the scene where she's on the scale and the scale reads 'fat'.

'Taylor saying that her worst nightmares or intrusive thoughts is the scale saying she is fat is incredibly damaging to actual fat people' ' Having an eating disorder doesn't excuse fatphobia. It's not hard to say, 'I'm struggling with my body image today' instead of I'm a fat, disgusting pig.'

Now, please please do chime in with your thoughts on this, but as someone in recovery from ED, someone overweight, I read this and felt sick. Actually sick. I absolutely understand the effect fatphobia has on the world and that its disgusting, but you cannot fairly criticise someone artistically representing their Eating Disorder as fatphobic. Anyone who knows a lot about eating disorders will know that one of the hardest things about advocating for EDs is that people don't understand them, that they dismiss them, that they don't want to talk about them. despite them being the deadliest mental health issue and incredibly prevalent, with almost universal broken amd underfunded and unresearched health care when it comes to treating them.

it is incredibly helpful for celebrities with ED experience to talk about their issues, especially when those celebrities have been glorified for their bodies. when Taylor was struggling with her ED, I was a teenage swiftie also struggling with my own ED. I would constantly see pictures of her and hate myself for not being skinny enough. when taylor first talked about her ED in 'miss Americana' I cried. Becuase she was clarifying that the body I had envied was unnatural, that she had suffered just like me to maintain it, that it wasn't ever something to be glorified or desired. I couldn't believe that Taylor had been through the same thing I had been through. Because no one talks about Eating Disorders. no one talks about how they take over your life. regardless of how famous or how admired or what size your body is. no one talks about this horrible, overwhelming disease that overtakes people. but Taylor, and fellow celebrities who have talked about their experiences, made me feel less alone for having experienced this.

THE NEXT PARAGRAPHs HAS POSSIBLY TRIGGERING DESCRIPTIONS OF ED BEHAVIOUR

and part of the experience of some ED's is the cruel, intrusive, obsessive thoughts. which are part of the disease, I cannot emphasis that enough. the horrible thoughts are a symptom of the disease, not a moral choice of the sufferer. eating disorders are not 'struggling with body image', they're a disease. I say this with hope that you will treat me with understanding, but I cannot begin to tell you the horrible and cruel thoughts that I have had about myself and others relating to weight while experiencing my ED. things I would never think while healthy or never ever accept myself or others saying aloud. these intrusive thoughts are part of an ED, they're part of the loss of control that someone with an ED experiences. I used to feel like I had two people inside my head, my eating disorder and myself. for a while my eating disorder was the loudest voice, and it wasn't interested in the social politics of the body positivity movement. it wanted me dead. it would do anything, say anything, be as cruel as it needed to be, as long as I kept being sick with it. I used to weigh myself multiple times a day and cry and have panic attacks about any fluctuation. the idea of being called fat or being associated with fatness would send me into a meltdown. this was despite thinking that fat people, and the many fat people in my life, were beautiful and valid and needed no change at all. what Taylor is representing is accurate to many ED sufferers lives and I felt validated when I saw it.

I know that people will agree with some of what I've said, but then say, oh, Taylor didn't need to show it. yes she did. eating disorders need to be represented, represented accurately with all of their thorny and ugly parts, because they thrive on shame and silence. people experiencing or recovering from EDs do not need to be shamed for the thoughts and fears that they had no control over, and they don't need to shut away their experiences never to be talked about again because their experience happened. it happened and it happened in silence. but if we break the silence it might not happen for someone else, it might be just a little better for those who come next. there will be people with eating disorders, or on the path to eating disorders, who will know that best-selling incredibly famous beloved Taylor swift understood their struggle and went through it as well, and that she was so much happier when she was out of her suffering. that she had the same thoughts they did, but she got better.

to try and hold a mental illness to the standards of twitters morality policing is to fundamentally misunderstand mental illnesses. a mental illness isnt going to act the way you want it to. its just going to act the way it is. you can't pit ED awareness and body positivity against each other. it isn't fair. there has to be space for both to share their experiences and understand each other.

honestly it all ties in to the idea that people will advocate for mentally ill people, right up until the moment that they do anything mentally ill. mental illness isn't pretty. but it has to be allowed to be represented in art and people need to be able to share their experiences

[dream-meister-translations]

CLOSE UP MEISTER!! SEARLE CHARACTER CARD #2

━

Searle is member of the surfing guild, Passionate Ocean.

The beach they typically use for surfing is now set up with various camera equipment in preparation for Searle's solo photoshoot.

PHOTOGRAPHER : Searle, I'm looking for you to come across all cool and relaxed to match the outfit and atmosphere.

SEARLE : Cool, right… What happens if I'm feeling a little... Nervous?

PHOTOGRAPHER : Are you struggling to picture it in your head? Just close your eyes and take a deep breath!

SEARLE : Okay, okay… Here we go…

PHOTOGRAPHER : Let's imagine that you're in the middle of the cold and dark night sea. All you can hear is the sound of the water flowing and the waves crashing all around you.

SEARLE : ...............

PHOTOGRAPHER : You look up and see the first ray of light shining against the ocean deep and as you do this, I want you to slowly open your eyes.

SEARLE : ...............

EMMA : …There we go!

My eyes met Searle's as they slowly opened and I couldn't help but let out a small gasp.

PHOTOGRAPHER : Yes, that's it, that's so cool! Now, let's do it again, same image, but this time I want your gaze to drift off into the distance.

EMMA : (Searle, I had no idea you could look so…)

I so was overwhelmed by Searle's fragile beauty, that I found my legs moving subconsciously.

EMMA : Whoa!!

My feet were caught in the sand and my body fell forward. Thankfully I managed to catch myself and not drop any of my equipment.

EMMA : (…I think I twisted my ankle… I'll have to check after the shoot…)

PHOTOGRAPHER : Let's take a break for now. Maybe we can try some more looks when we get back?

SEARLE : Yes, sir!

As soon as the shoot is over, Searle comes rushing toward me.

SEARLE : Emma, can you put your hands on my shoulder for a second.

EMMA : You mean like this?

SEARLE : Hold on tight, okay? Up we go!

With one arm around my back, he hooks the other beneath my knees and lifts me up in one single motion.

EMMA : How strong are you!?

SEARLE : I'm not strong. You're just light as a feather~

SEARLE : And I'ma carry you to your seat, okay? So hold tight.

SEARLE : I saw you walking a little strangely. If you force yourself, you'll make it worse.

EMMA : (He must have noticed that I twisted my ankle…)

I feel nervous and can't help but shift at the feel of Searle's strong arms as he carries me over to the parasol to rest up. Searle struggled when it came to taping up my ankle, but it was touching and sweet all the same.

━

That evening, when we were taking down the set after filming.

CREW MEMBER : Oh, God!!

SEARLE : Oops! Are you okay~?

As soon as the crew member's foot got caught in the sand, Searle came to his aid, saving his equipment.

CREW MEMBER : I-I'm sorry… Th-Thank you…

SEARLE : You're welcome~

SEARLE : It's tough walking on a sandy beach if you're not used to it. Even I had a hard time walking on two feet at first!

CREW MEMBER : Walking on… Two feet…?

SEARLE : Yeah, I'm used to walking on my tail fin.

EMMA : S-Searle wait a minute!

I immediately gesture to Searle with crossed fingers.

SEARLE : Oh, right… I wasn't supposed to tell you that…

Searle is actually a mermaid from Lorelei, the land of mermaids.

In order to fulfill his dream of surfing, he acquired human legs, albeit not permanently.

He has to keep his identity a secret from everyone except the members of his guild in order to protect himself from poachers who target mermaids for their rare scales.

CREW MEMBER : Oh, uhm…?

SEARLE : Well, uh, yeah, I guess sometimes I look like this!

SEARLE : S'up, bro! Wah-Hey!!

CREW MEMBER : Uh… What?

SEARLE : Aniki always says that if you're tryna trick someone you should just say 'Wah-Hey!!' and it'll all work out!

SEARLE : So come on, let's say it together~!

EMMA : Did you really have to say it like that!?

SEARLE : Ahahaha, it's okay, it's okay~! See~?

SEARLE / CREW MEMBER : Wah--!! / H-Hey…?

Seeing the two of them raise their hands and cheer like that, I couldn't not laugh.

EMMA : (Living life on the edge, even in a dangerous situation like this… Maybe that's just part of Searle's charm?)

[bloodcorpceo]

today i am feeling pretty blackpilled. it's the first of the month...

i wanted to feel renewed, refreshed but instead I'm feeling pretty hopeless. i am having one of my many body dysmorphia outbursts. i saw this ugly picture of myself in bad lighting last night at a party and immediately began having negative thought loops and an anxiety attack. i know that sounds really silly to people who don't have issues like this but for me... this just made me feel defeated and hideous. i was already feeling down and ugly because no one talked to me at the bar or club last night again... people almost never approach me and my friends tell me it's because im "unapproachable" but sometimes i wonder if this is just cope not to hurt my feelings. what if the only time i look decent is when i am extremely curated but im actually ugly? i see all my flaws intensely and i often think im hideous or mid at best, no this isn't fishing for compliments either I've never been mentally sound with my appearance and spent too much of my life actually being a 4 to the point where i have permanent damage to my self image and general mental state.

i think the people around me irl are awful at dealing with and helping me with my mental health issues. this morning when i was seeking some kind of solid answer my friend just would silently nod or just say something like "don't seek approval from others". my mother and i got into an argument and she raised her voice at me calling me shallow and saying my primary focus is my appearance but she chooses to live in lala land and refuses to recognize that your appearance determines your entire quality of life, especially when you are as poor as me. i literally have no escape out of poverty besides my appearance because in reality I'm not that bright. my mom doesn't understand my mental health state despite having a psychology degree. she doesn't have pcos like me and never struggled with her weight as a young woman, always had tons of friends and boyfriends, was voted prom queen and even had a modeling contract. how could she ever possibly understand how i feel or relate to me? i have quite literally lived most of my life as a femcel. i can count on one hand how many friends i have even now and didn't even kiss a guy until i was over 20.

just last year i started to get sort of attractive by losing weight, changing my makeup and hair and finally felt a little comfortable putting myself out there but I'm still terrified. i still don't go out much and i feel like i repel people. I've built a wall to protect myself from being hurt again. i might be prettier than before but i still feel the same inside and I'm still socially inept, so i still don't attract people. i really need therapy but i cant afford it. i have been intensely struggling financially this year and i could barely scrounge up a dollar today to pay for my change difference at Starbucks because i desperately needed to get out of the house. i feel intensely upset about the fact that i thought i had found the perfect job to work from home just for the guy to scam me and never pay me even though i worked in bed editing a book for him while i was sick with COVID so i could get it in on time.

i was working my ass off expecting some compensation i desperately need. i feel at a dead end, I've been applying many places but my nail school schedule fucks me and it seems no one really wants to hire me. i can't go until the spring like this, I'm drowning in debt. i am also not looking forward to going back to nail school because i don't like the other girls and i had some issues and the vibe is dead, it won't be fun anymore, it won't be the same. i get upset thinking about it because i feel unwanted. i tried to talk to my friend about this too and she still gave me no reassurance, just the same generic responses. i don't feel relieved or comforted. i suppose i should stop dumping my feelings on my friends but i feel hopeless and really depressed. i don't want to do anything, right now i don't even want to exist.

i just want a decent job and a good man next to me and a home of my own and to get the fuck out of Detroit and to get the surgeries i want and to be thinner and prettier and i want a therapist

[endingwari]

Dreams

I just recently wanted to post online every dream I had and this is the second one that I wanted to post, the first one is 'Husband'. If you found this post, I hope you share yours too and feel free to translate whatever my dreams says. ♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡ 'Demon'

I will never forget this dream because it marks the first time I experienced sleep paralysis.

I found myself in the center of nothingness, devoid of furniture or any sign of life. It was silent except for a soft, rhythmic beeping - 'beep' 'beep' - reminiscent of a lifeline machine in a hospital. Suddenly, the scene shifted to a hospital ward.

In real life, my friend was scheduled for an operation the next morning, and in this dream, I saw her lying in bed. As I observed, a dark shadow began to show above her. I tried to picture it, but my eyes failed me, closing involuntarily instead of just squinting.

When I opened my eyes again, a demon loomed over her! It appeared as a shadow, devoid of the typical horns and tails we associate with such beings, but its bloodshot eyes were unmistakable. Its focus seemed fixed on my friend, and I shouted, 'Stay away from her!'

The demon turned its attention towards me, flying at me and pinning me to the floor. It had no words, but I could clearly see its features up close - its skin resembling a charred log. Growls emanated from it as it smiled maniacally. I struggled to free myself but found my body immobilized.

Desperate to get out of this dream, I managed to glimpse my room with half-closed eyes, still fighting against the 'demon's' grip. It whispered to me, its voice husky and barely comprehensible, 'I will take you as a replacement for your friend.' Though I couldn't speak, I refused to surrender. 'Lord, please help me,' I silently pleaded.

'You cannot win,' it taunted.

'Rebuke,' I thought desperately.

'In Jesus's name! I rebuke you, evil!!'

"REBUKEEEE!!"

With that cry, I finally spoke and woke up from the terrifying nightmare, waiting anxiously for the sun to rise.

Since that experience, I've had numerous episodes of sleep paralysis. Each one brought its own horrors - from a grim reaper seeking to claim my soul to other malevolent entities. Yet, with each encounter, I grew more resilient. I can now say I am well-experienced and unafraid of facing it again in the future. ♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡ This happened during my darkest times in high school, and so far, this is the dream that felt the most real to me. I checked on my friend the next day, and her mom said her operation was a success. And this year, 2024... she's now healthy and living her best life. P.S. The image that I inserted is not really how the demon in my dream looks like—it is just AI-generated.

[katnisscarter]

Self image and self worth and self love blah blah blah man I’m tired of that shit. Honestly. Time is an illusion that seems to make sense to other people and never to me. I think the same thoughts I did at 15. I avoid the mirror when I’m naked just like I did at 16. And 17. 18. 19. 20. 21. 22. You get the point. I look at my side profile and have to blink back tears. every. Single. Time.

I can’t handle other people taking my picture it absolutely sends me into a fucking panic attack. I never look right.

I stare at my face so long I don’t understand what I’m looking at anymore. Which, to be fair, I don’t really recognize her anyways. All I know is the same thoughts that plagued me then ruminate in my head making cozy homes of the corners.

I could tell you 100 things wrong with my body before I could tell you one thing right. And I get it. It’s not about me if you want to lose weight and work on yourself. I know that logically. You tell me the way you talk about yourself doesn’t apply to me. But I hear the way you say fat. I hear the way you say worthless. I hear the way you say ugly. How does that not apply to me too? I’m the heaviest I’ve ever been in my life right now and you can’t seem to escape the feeling of fat fast enough. How does that not affect me. You can work out. I fucking pull my shoulder at work six months ago and it’s still injured. My fucking wrist stops working if I do repetative motion too long. I can’t even hand write very fucking long anymore because it hurts. If I fucking sit for too long it hurts. If I stand for too long it hurts. It literally hurts to just walk the first time after sleeping a normal 8hrs like everyone else.

I remember the first time I cried in the bathroom, hunched over the toilet, begging myself to just throw up the food. I was 14. It sounds silly though, doesn’t it? That’s a kid. She’s just a baby. Why do I find myself 11 years later doing the same fucking thing. Even though it’s been years I still find myself staring at my naked body in the mirror and my eyes glance to the razor sitting in the shower. Force of habit I guess.

Like listen I understand that men have body issues too. I’m not denying that. I’m not saying hey you weren’t bullied too. But why is being thin so tied into being a woman. Like I don’t want to minimize your feelings but because im not skinny or slim in the right areas it’s like I’m less of a woman.

I guess maybe that’s what I’m struggling with. Feeling like a woman. I picked a pretty womanly profession though. Being a nurse is traditionally seen as a woman’s job. It includes being a nurse, a waitress, a maid, a therapist. It includes getting screamed at by patients and told you’re a fucking idiot. It includes being pinched or spit on or bit or called fat bitch but you just stand there because they’re confused, they don’t mean it.

Were those girls confused when they’d run away from me at 8 years old on the playground because I couldn’t keep up? Were those boys confused when they got their friend to ask me out as a prank in middle school? Was the girl who was my best friend who later wasn’t just confused when she told me I should kill myself because the world would be better off? Or that I was a cow. Was the 17 year old boy I let see me naked for the first time just confused when he turned away and left the room like I was too hideous to look at?

Maybe it’s because I spent so long picking myself apart when he cheated on me. I spent months trying to figure it out. What was wrong with me? A question I’d been asking for years. Was I not pretty enough? Were my boobs too small? Was my tummy too big? Was my laugh too loud? Was I too stupid? Was I too mentally ill? Was I crazy? I can’t seem to find the answer. No matter how hard I look.

Even now, with a partner who loves me so much. I still don’t feel right. There IS something wrong with me. Just no one in my life sees it right now. But other people have. She did. He did. He saw every ugly cracked piece of me and it was too much. Too much. Too much.

I just feel like I’m waiting for the day he comes home and tells me it’s too much. I’m too much. I’m too fat. I’m too ugly. I’m too stupid. I’m too sick. I’m too mentally ill. I’m too anxious. I’m too depressed. I’m too self conscious. I’m too sad. I’m too loud. I’m too weird. I’m too much to take care of. The day will come and I don’t think I can survive it. So I just don’t let anyone in anymore. It’s like I locked the door and threw away the key. I opened myself up to you completely and you ripped everything off the walls telling me it’s not enough, so now no one gets to see.

I look at old pictures sometimes. She has the prettiest smile. Shes so beautiful. She’s so happy. There’s a naivety in her youth. She doesn’t know what will happen. I yearn to be her again. To not know those things. To not feel entirely disconnected from myself. To feel like I can connect with people around me again. She looks so happy. She was happy to be with you. You look happy too you know. Your smile looks genuine. Bright. It travels all the way to your eyes. It’s like I can hear them laughing just in the other room. It’s warm.

But they’re not. Youre not here. She’s not here. It’s not what happened. And I guess that’s hard to explain to anyone in my life now. How that not being the reality hurts me so much. Not one fucking person understands it. I’ve just stopped talking about it. All anyone does is talk about the bad stuff. Or just tell me about how great my relationship now is. Which it is, i love him very much. But I can’t help to not look back. I can’t help to not look behind me. To wonder what that would have been. To wonder how they’d be living.

Everyone says to give it time. Time heals all wounds or whatever bullshit is in the self help books. Which I guess it does in some things. But it’s like there’s such a clear before and after. Before everything went to shit. And so much of what happened shook every single thing I knew about myself. Every single thing I was, just taken away from me. So that loss of innocence and loss of my first love is so intertwined I can’t help but feel like i want to go back sometimes. But I don’t know if I want you back so much as I want myself back. Because after you left I was so awful to myself it was new lows I didn’t know I could go. I want the naivety back. I want the belief that everything will be okay in the end back. I guess I just want hope back.

I just wish someone understood me. I just want someone to understand me like you did. To not get mad or judge me.

I just want someone to understand.

[finelinevogue]

can you do something where y/n and harry are looking through photos with one another please?

god this has been too long i apologise!! okay!! hope this is at least kind of what you wanted, enjoyyy;

You laughed to yourself as you scrolled past another photo.

Whilst Harry had been in the shower, you had decided to hop onto his phone and stalk through his photos. Harry was very relaxed about you going on his phone, just as you were with him on yours, because you both had a deep rooted trust between you.

Recently, you’d become really sentimental over the past. You’d started a new job and were making a real income now, only having worked part-time previously, and Harry was about to start on his 3rd world tour. The future was creeping up on you far too fast and the present was too real, so you wanted to just reminisce on the times by which everything seemed a little easier and maybe a little brighter.

The current photo was one of Harry sat on a bench by Brightons’ beach, where he was laughing because a seagull had just swooped an stolen all the ice-cream off the top of his cone. The memory was only from 3 months ago and yet it felt like a lifetime ago - it made you frown at how cruel time was.

“Hey, what’s got you frowning, love?” Harry sauntered into the room, towel hung low on his lips so you could see his v-lines very nicely. His hair was wet and messy, yet he still managed to look effortlessly put together. Every time you saw him you struggled to believe he was actually yours. He pouted because you were.

“Just upsetting myself by looking through old memories.” You wafted your hand at him, as if to tell him it was nothing and he had no reason to worry but that wasn’t enough to settle Harry.

He walked over to the bed and climbed on to it, making sure the towel didn’t expose all his bits since the blinds were open and unfortunately the windows were that huge that someone standing on the other side of the country would be able to see you. He sat up against the headboard and pulled you over into his arms, your legs twisting together in their familiar formation. His arm snaked around you and kept you close for mutual comfort.

“Why is it upsetting, hm? Pretty sure all our memories are happy, love.”

“I just get sad looking back on memories that we’ll never live again.” You shrugged your shoulders, not really knowing how best to explain it.

“But we’ll get to make so many new ones.” Harry said, but you weren’t convinced and he could tell so thought it best to stick with you and do this the way you’d set out to do, “C’mon, let’s have a look at these, hey?” He tapped on the side of his phone and you unlocked it before clicking back in the album of you both. He’d even labelled it;

‘my happy album’

It was just filled with pictures of you, sometimes you and him and then even sometimes just pictures of him if it had a meaningful story behind it, but mainly photos of you.

You spotted a photo of you both that sent you back only a couple of weeks ago. It was a photo of the photos you’d taken in the photo booth at Urban Outfitters. You’d wanted new hoodies and Urban was always the place to go for them, so whilst Harry treated you to a couple you treated him to a few rounds of captured memories in the photo booth. They ranged from you kissing each other to you pulling your middle fingers out on the camera. You just remembered how much of a god day that was.

“I still need to wash out that stain in the hoodie actually.” You said, the photo reminding you of the chore you needed to do.

“Still? Y/N, baby, it’s been 3 weeks.” Harry laughed at you, remembering you’d put the hoodie on straight after you’d come out of the shop and only to spill soy sauce on it 15 minutes later when you went for lunch at Yo-Sushi!

“Was too busy wearing your hoodies I forgot that one existed.” You cringed at whether that stain would even come out now after all that time.

“Y’pest!” He squeezed your side playfully and you laughed before returning your attention back to the photos, starting to forget the worries of earlier and completely forgetting that you needed to wash that jumper.

The next photo was another of the both of you. It was a selfie and you smiled warmly at the memory attached to it. Harry was kissing you cheek as your face was scrunched up in a smile at the camera, both of your stood in front of a sign that read ‘Sold’ which was in front of your, now, house. That was such a huge achievement for the both of you and the excitement of that day was truly second to none.

“Still our biggest achievement, hey?” You asked Harry rhetorically, but he answered anyways.

“Not mine.” You furrowed your eyebrows in confusion. This house purchase had meant everything to you and you thought it had for him too.

“Wh— I don’t understand?”

“You will when you have a rock on your ring finger.” Your eyes widened to his words and you turned to look at him.

“Was that…” You questioned him without really asking him anything.

“No baby. You’ll know when i’ve proposed.” He bent over to give your forehead a deserving kiss and you hummed at the contact.

“And that’ll be your greatest achievement?”

“I’ve not decided yet.”

“You’re full of anticipation, aren’t you Styles?” You chuckled, turning yourself back to keep looking at the phone.

“Just full of hope for the future.”

Time froze for a minute as you took in his words. Harry made you realise, with one sentence, that the future was nothing to be scared of. It was waiting for you to do something so special and crazy with it - it hadn’t planned anything for you yet, only hope that you’d be happy living through it. You sniffled and went teary eyed at the thought, scrolling a little more down the album.

You clicked on a random photo, wanting to see it zoomed in and Harry cooed at the picture. It was a picture of you, laying down on a towel on the sandy beach of Santa Monica and reading your favourite book. You didn’t even know the photo existed until now, but you were happy it did. If you closed your eyes to the image you could feel the warm sand between your toes and the evening sun kissing your skin, as you read over the pages of the book that was worn to pieces it was so well loved.

“I didn’t know you’d taken this!” You exclaimed, turning your head to look up at your gorgeous boyfriend for a split moment and then back to the photo for another glance.

“Couldn’t not. You looked beautiful and just so happy.”

“I was,” you smiled to yourself, before pushing yourself up onto Harry’s chest a bit more and leaning your lips into him, “I am.” You lightly kissed him, teasing him for more. “Always will be with you H.”

“God, I love you Y/N.”

He pulled you sharply down against him, mushing his lips to yours and kissing you breathless. He savoured the sweet taste of your lips and inhaled the soft scent of your rose body lotion. You were an absolute drug to him and he would never be able to give you up. You were completely his, and by the passion within this kiss he knew that he was completely yours too.

[kirishoshego]

Come Kitty, Kitty//Shinso

MINORS DON'T INTERACT

This is my part of the amazing "Hybrids" collaboration hosted by @ultimate-astridwriting, thank you again for letting me participate, this was definitely exciting x pairing: kitten!fem!readerxShinso (college!au)//words:3.3k+

Summary: You knew pushing Shinsou's buttons would end in a punishment, which was exactly what you craved (featuring after care)

TW: BDSM, dom and sub (calling him sir, him calling you kitten and at one point pet), choking, rope play, spanking, overstimulation, squirting, anal play (at the end), oral (both receiving), face fucking, degration (mixed with name calling), praise, unprotected sex, sending nudes and the reader wearing a collar Shinsou didn't plan on going to meet up with the group, Bakugou dragged him along with him, ranting about how if he had to go to Jiro's chill night he had to come too. It was an unusual group, really, but they, Shoto and Tokoyami shared the same taste in music. From that on the five became something along the lines of friends, even if Shinsou didn't want anything to do with it, he couldn't deny the fact he didn't hate having them around him, and having someone to study while in college had its perks.

When he explained he didn't feel like being there anymore they didn't try to make him stay, they understood he needed some alone time and told him to text them if he's back in his dorm and bit their goodbye. The sun wasn't down completely yet, it still engulfed the city in its warm colors, people passing him by on their way home or to a date, while he was slurping on his Boba Tea, grumbling about their happy go lucky energy.

That was until he saw you, sitting on a branch of a cherry blossom tree, yelling at three guys below you, who despairingly tried to grab your fluffy tail to drag you down. "I said fuck off you assholes!" one of them got too close for your liking causing you to hiss at them, revealing your sharp fangs, tail whipping from left to right. "Don't be such a little buzzkill now sweet cheeks, we just wanna show you a good time, we know how to take care of such a small thing," all of them laughed, jumping up again and this time being lucky in catching your tail, only to also catch your claws seconds later. "You fucking-" before he could say whatever angry insult was laying on his tongue a scarf was wrapped around him, pulling him back so he fell onto his ass in a small puddle.

"She said to leave her alone, so fuck off," he apparently caught their leader, the others now quickly trying to help him up and scramble off, mumbling insults which quickly died down when their opponent's eyes started glowing. "I could have done that myself," you told him, fixing your shirt as you sat upon the branch, feet dangling down, ears pulled back. "I'm not helpless just because I'm a cat, you know?" it amused him to watch you struggle as you tried to find a way back to the ground. He only raised an eyebrow, his gaze going from you to the floor and turning his back towards you. "Have fun getting down there yourself then," he walked away, your pleads seemingly fallen to deaf ears, but Shinsou could hear you just fine, a small smirk on his lips.

"Sir, please help me down. I'm sorry, thank you for defending me," the defeat in your voice was one thing, but switching from Mister to Sir made his head snap up from his phone's black screen. But before he could react in time he heard a loud thud and a whine.

It's not your problem, she's just a stranger, he thought to himself, but his body reacted sooner than his brain could, and Shinsou found himself carrying you to the nearest hospital, which conveniently was only two blocks away. Ever since then you were basically his shadow, nobody really took care of you, and growing up with Aizawa apparently made Shinsou also adapt his father's need to take in strays.

According to you, Shinsou didn't pay enough attention to you the last couple of days. You knew he had those days, too stressed out from university or hero work. His biggest desire at that moment is to simply have you in his lap while he was playing some games or cuddle up to you while watching a movie, the soft purrs emitting your curled-up body helping him heal from whatever had him worried in the late evening hours.

However, you were craving him, needed him. Every fiber in your body was screaming his name, begging for his touch, wanton for him to be balls deep inside your dripping little cunt. So you planned everything out, starting with sending him cute little pictures of you. Innocent and cute, wearing nothing but one of his big t-shirts, hair messy, forming a seeming halo between your perked up ears, tail wrapped around as you kneeled in front of the tall mirror. But then, oh no, what a pity, you spilled milk all over you when all you wanted was to prepare your breakfast. Your front camera perfectly captured the soaked material clinging to your shape, revealing your hardening nipples and soft mounds he loved to play with. And of course, it would only be fair to show him how good you can clean yourself, a little video of your in soap-covered glistering body.

If you don't stop right now, you're in for it, last warning

Promise?

Don't push your luck kitten

*attachment one image*

*attachment one video*

Does my new set match my eyes? What do you think?

Left on read. Exactly forty-five minutes, before your door opens and your boyfriend appeared in its frame. Everything about him appeared calm, even breath, no fists, no tension. The only thing that gave away his fuming rage was his amethyst-like glowing eyes.

"Come here," he ordered, pulling off his shoes and putting them to the side. "Ugh, it's so comfy here though," you told him, stretching yourself on the couch, kissed by the sun. His movement halted, jacket still in his hand, and raised in the air as he turned to look at you. "Excuse me?" the hand wrapped around the fabric tightened, nostrils flared, and only now you realized the mistake you had done. Big hands adorned by silver rings pushed up his sleeves, eyes fixated on you. Even if you wanted to you couldn't leave his gaze, pupils turning into slits when Shinsou started making his way towards you.

Anticipation rose in your stomach, the flick of your tail betraying you as a smirk formed on Shinsou's chiseled face. "Now, kitten," his pointer finger interlaced with the small ring on your collar allowing him to pull your face close to his, his hot breath fanning over your delicate skin "I'll count to ten, you're going to be a good little pet and go into the bedroom, get undressed and wait for me."

Amusement flashed over his face when he noticed your eyes now almost completely black as your pupils expanded. Your breath hitched in your throat as his soft, plump lips were mere an inch away from yours while his thumb stroked your cheek softly. Before your wish could come true he pulled away, starting to unbutton his shirt, the first number filling your ears. You practically run into the bedroom, eager to have him pound into you, your cunt already throbbing at the simple thought of it.

"Nine... Ten," he still wore his grey sweatpants, hung low on his hips, and allowing you to have a perfect view on his happy trail. His large fist was wrapped around thick purple robes. You sat on your bed, legs pulled underneath you while you wore nothing but the collar around your neck, watching him every step. He simply pointed his fingers to the spot in front of him, waiting for you to walk up to him.

"What's your safe word?" he always asked you this before even touching you. Your safety was above anything for him. "Bunny," a small kiss was placed on your forehead. "Good. And your sign?" "Tapping my fingers onto my palm three times," you said like a bullet being shot from a pistol. "You understand that you're in trouble, right?" he asked you, turning you around and pushing your hair to one side, letting him kiss your neck sensually, his free hand wandering down your side. "Yes Shin," you breathed, earning a harsh slap to your ass and a hiss escaping your throat. "That's sir to you, you know better than that," he warned, pulling your arms behind your back and wrapping them together, like he had practiced so many times before, making sure your blood flow wasn't cut off by them.

Shinsou walked to the in black sheets covered bed, sitting down on it with his legs spread open and pulling you in between them. "You know the rules kitten, and you still thought sending me these pics while I'm out in public with my friends would be a good idea. Why is it forbidden to do so, especially without a warning?" he looked at you through his lashes, one hand over your tail drawing small circles, the other circling your clit lazily, sending you in a hazy state. "Because I belong to you, and someone, ah, could see them," your toes curled slightly, trying your best to concentrate on his voice.

"Exactly, so why did you do it then kitten?" he cocked his eyebrow, picking up his speed and watching you squirm. "I wanted your attention, Sir. You barely acknowledged me the last few days," your voice was a mix of pleasure and whining, pressing down on his hand for more which only earned you a slap on your clit. "Ah, so we're a greedy little attention whore?" his question sounded like he just had a breakthrough discovery, a single digit slipping into your wet walls, his thumb still playing with your sensitive nub. "Yes," you admitted, his degradation causing you to clench around Shinsou's curling finger, another one joining. "I see. I'm sorry for not giving you enough attention. What about the attention I'm giving you right now? Is it enough? Or does my little slut need more?" he knew how to make you come within a few seconds, how to play with your pussy to have you squealing out incomprehensible sentences.

His lips wrapped around your nipple, flicking his slick muscle over them again and again. "Hm?" he hummed against it, his thumb now having the perfect speed to send you over the edge already. "More, please Sir," you moaned while he made you ride out your first orgasm of the night. "I thought so. You gotta earn it first though," he didn't plan on having you on your knees for long, but he wasn't ready to give you what you want just yet. After all, you had to be punished.

At the thought of his thick cock down your throat your mouth started to water. Gratefully dropping down in front of him made your tits jiggle in the process. You licked along his shaft, the tip of your tongue going from his balls to the tip of his dick, swirling around its head before starting to bop your head up and down slowly, taking in more and more every time you went down until your nose hit his freshly shaved skin.

With your tongue extended it was easy to kitten lick his balls, adding to the pleasure going through his veins. "Fuck, such a good whore. Just like that, your mouth feels so nice wrapped around me," you continued, his words of courage fueling you while his hips snapped up every now and then to make you splutter around him. After a few minutes of his dick shoved down your neck, you went up for air again, drool making your chin glister in the purple light emerging from the bulb above you.

"I can't remember that I told you to stop," his voice was raspier than normal. Collecting the mixture of spit and precum dripping down your chin with this thumb he pushed it into your mouth, watching you suck on it, and gently dragging your fangs against his finger when he pulled out again. "Go on," apparently you were too slow, his hand fisting your hair. His actions caused you to gag, resulting in his length being pushed down further.

"Don't forget I'm in charge, always," with his left leg grounded, the right one wrapped around your head, his ankle laying on his muscular thigh to keep you in place. He started thrusting upwards, careful to keep your hair out of your face because he didn't want to miss your fucked-out expression. Lilac eyes watched in ecstasis as you struggled against his grip, hearing you gag and feeling you contract against him, more drool dripping down your chin. Shinsou loved turning you into a mess, inside and out.

"Can't breathe kitten?" he asked slightly amused, getting turned on, even more, when the realization hit him about how much power he had over you. You tried shaking your head but failed miserably, ears pulled back with no escape in sight, your tail swinging like a whip. Only when your eyes started to water, your tears meeting at your cupid's bow he had mercy with you.

Due to the abuse of your jaw, you couldn't really close it, trying your best to catch your breath before he pulled you back up. It was easy for Shinsou to have you on your back, spread in front of him while his head found its home between your legs, eating your pussy as if hadn't had a meal in weeks. The man between your legs was licking and sucking your most sensitive area, his manicured nails digging into the meat of your soft thighs to keep them from closing. Shinsou now wanted one thing, and one thing only: his name the only word in your brain as he fucked you stupid, making you cum over and over and over again.

So you did, two times, four times, six times. Your mind was foggy after the fifth, which also was the one leading him to tie your legs to each bedpost at the end because you were overstimulated, your legs clamping shut and he didn't want any of that.

You expected your punishment to be denial, a rough spanking while you are bend over his knees, not being touched at all, only serving for his pleasure and his pleasure alone but you were oh so wrong. The remark off you earlier telling him how little attention he had given you made him rethink his planned discipline. If you want his attention you're going to get it, all of it. The attempt to muffle your moans and screams not even crossing his mind. He wanted everyone to know how good he made you feel, tied up, sprawled in front of him, for him to use and adore.

"Sir please, no more, it feels weird," you cried out, not even trying to move away since you knew it only made him want you more. "Weird how?" he asked and your body was thankful for the short break, yet craved his mouth on you again. "Like I have to pee," you said timidly, a small sob traveling through your sweat-covered body. He cursed under his breath, eyes rolling in the back of his head at the thought of making you squirt. "Too bad you have no say in this," he slapped your clit and returned to his previous position.

Before you knew it his fingers curled even faster, your already hyper-sensitive clit throbbing between his lips covered in your juices. "Please," you sobbed as his eyes watched your in pleasure twisted face, tears streaming down your face. The safe word was still prominent in your brain, you could use it any second but even though your skin was ignited you needed more, needed him to fill you up, to cloud your vision and let you forget every thought in your brain that was left somewhere in there.

"Let go for me kitten," the vibration of his low voice sent you over the edge once again and sure enough his wish came true. Shinsou never knew he could make it happen but today you proved him wrong, the need to be inside of you now bigger than ever before. "Done?" you asked, your whole body shaking and your eyes only a small slit caused by the exhaustion.

"Just started," the lust was written over his face as he cleaned it with your shirt laying next to the bed before positioning himself at your entrance, watching your wetness drip down onto the mattress. Your pussy was throbbing from the many orgasms he had milked from you. He couldn't wait to feel your velvety walls adorning his thick shaft, clenching around it, and hear you scream out in delight.

"No, no more," you tried to put the last bit of energy against the restraints holding you in place but there was no use. Shinsou was a master with ropes and while he can untie you in a second you could never slip out of them, he made sure of that.

A simple tug on each knot freed you and for a second you thought it was over, relaxing into the drenched fabric below you as he turned you around. The feeling of calmness didn't last long, his big, strong hands grabbing your hips and pulling your ass up in the air, delivering a slap to both cheeks and watching them bounce from the impact. He could see your claws extending, a natural reacting to protect you from your attacker but the way your hole clenched around nothing gave away just how much you liked it.

"Did you just say no? I'm gonna continue and you'll let me use you because do you know what you are? A dumb, little whore for me to use. Tell me to stop again and I'll fuck you until you pass out, got it?" he grunted, momentarily teasing you with just the tip of his cock before pushing his whole length balls deep inside of you.

The grip you had around him caused every cuss word his brain held to tumble out within seconds. Never did Shinsou think he could become addicted to a pussy, but here he was, pounding into you like a mad man in love. One hand was placed between your shoulder blades, making you arch just perfect for him to have access to every hole he wanted. The cold spit hitting your until now ignored, puckered hole clench in shock before he pushed his thumb in between your spread cheeks.

It didn't take long for his hand to wrap around your throat, tongue lolling out as yet another orgasm crashed through your body. Your cunt was clenching around him, backside and tail vibrating in satisfaction. "I think you have one more for me, what do you think kitten? Gonna be a good girl?" he could feel his own high building up in his abdomen, ready to fill you up and watch it leak out of your abused pussy. You couldn't possibly form a sentence, let alone a single word, only nodding your head, wanting for him to come inside of you.

"That's what I thought, I'm proud of you, taking me so well," Shinsou grunted, listening to your moans and sobs. Pulling you up by your hair allowed him to view your ahegao face in the reflection of the window, watching the sun go down in the distance and the buildings below you appear so small.

He looked at you in pure bliss, enjoying the little show in front of him, how worn out you looked, sweat, tears, and drool draped over your body. Beautiful boobs bounced in the same beat of his thrusts. "Gon' come Sir" you slurred, stars appearing in front of your eyes while his hand connected with your clit yet again. The word 'mine' written over it caused you to collapse into his arms, crying out his name as the last orgasm washed over you like a tsunami. With another thrust of his hips, he shot his load deep inside of you, and moaned your name.

It didn't take long before Shinsou's strength returned, picking you in his arms and kissing your temple. "Wanna take a bath with me and watch a movie? I can order some food, how does that sound?" his voice was soothing now, calming you down a bit with his quirk, telling you to take deep breaths and focus on his voice. "Yes please," you whispered when he sat you down on the small stool in the bathroom, watching him take out a soothing lotion and your favorite bubble soap. Turning on the water he collected the few cold drops in a glass, tipping your head back and letting the liquid flow down your dry mouth while whispering assuring words into your ears, listening to the soft purrs.

[twilights-posts]

Tutoring (Smut)

I've found this on my laptop and wanted to share this with y'all. Please remember, it was originally written in German and translated. Contact me if something doesn't make sense. Thanks!

Summary: You have a history test coming up and Jared decided to help you study. Tough, the only thing on your mind has nothing to do with history.

Tags: 18+, smut, fingering, fem!reader, Jared

We were sitting in my kitchen trying to focus on my upcoming history test. Jared had told me in school that he would help me because history is the most boring thing ever for me. Being in the kitchen together now, though, with his hand on my thigh and his breath on my skin, history was much more exciting.

"The first half of the 19th century saw important social and economic changes that fostered the later industrial boom. One of the most important factors in this was the railroad ..." he told me, and you could see the passion written all over his face. But I switched off at some point and pictured in my mind how his big hand wandered up my thigh, under my skirt and then-

"Are you listening to me?" asked Jared a little louder. With big innocent eyes, I looked at him nodding.

"Of course, industrialization came about because of the railroad," I announced confidently.

"And who invented the railroad?"

"You didn't say."

With furrowed brows I looked at the worksheet, maybe that would give me answers, but all I got were questions.

"Yes, I did," he laughed. I looked up at him smiling, even sitting down he was taller than me. My eyes swept over his face and lingered on his full lips. Images of his lips kissing my neck, my breasts, my nipples and moving lower and lower, um....

"You're so absent today, what's going on?" he snapped me out of my fantasies again. Smiling, I shook my head, not letting on that he had a lot less clothes on in my head.

"Nothing, it's all good. It's just history," I said lightheartedly, contorting my face to let him know how averse I was to the subject. He nodded slowly, not seeming to believe me.

"You know you can tell me anything, right? I'd love to help you or even just listen. Just tell me what you need," Jared expressed lovingly, stroking my thigh with his hand. My skirt pushed up slightly as a result. He's so sweet, if only he knew that the only thing I needed right now was his tongue on my clit.

I smiled broadly at the thought, leaned over and gave him a chaste kiss on the cheek.

"I'm fine, I just need a break," I whispered to him. Light-footed, I jumped off the stool and walked over to the fridge. That's when I got the idea to heaten him up a bit so we could get away from studying.

I looked over my shoulder at him and asked if he wanted a drink. There was no need to grab the soda from the last compartment, but it gave him a chance to peek under my skirt. Since I was wearing shorts underneath anyway, he wouldn't see too much, but he wouldn't need to for now.

When I turned back to him, he looked up shamefully. I pretended not to notice and held the can out to him.

"Do you need a glass?"

"No, I'm good."

I tried to jump casually on the counter, but I had overestimated my weak arms and was struggling badly. Jared chuckled as he watched me do it.

"Need a hand?" he finally offered.

"Please."

He stood up, took the few steps to me, and grasped my waist. With ease, he lifted me up and set me down. Jared continued to stand in front of me, looking at me with amusement. I recognized the affection in his eyes, could only smile because of it.

"Maybe you should work out more," he suggested after a few seconds.

"If you help me with that," I said absently. Right now my hormones were going crazy and I just wanted to kiss him. My legs wrapped around his waist and pulled him closer to me. If only there were less clothes ...

Jared swallowed nervously. My hands stroked through his hair, finding their place on his neck. I moved closer to his face, anticipation flooding me. His dark eyes looked at me expectantly. A mischievous smile was on his face.

Just before our lips touched, he pulled back slightly.

"You know I've been dreaming about this."

I smirked at this confession. I hadn't been expecting that.

"Oh yeah, about what exactly?", I probed.

Jared leaned forward, past my face, and ran his nose up the curve of my neck.

"I dreamed about your legs wrapped around my waist."

"What else were you dreaming about?"

"how I' m pushing up that stupid skirt of

yours," he murmured against my ear, pressing his lips behind it.

I exhaled shakily, the throbbing inside me making itself known, and I could feel myself getting wet at the idea.

"It's my favorite skirt," I still tried to answer casually. He chuckled lightly.

"You can leave it on while we do it."

My eyes closed and I imagined how he would take me while I had only the skirt on. At this point I didn't need any foreplay, but he was about to suck on the delicate spot on my neck, so I didn't stop him.

His hands went under my skirt and stroked through the shorts over my most sensitive spot. He took his time, doing everything gently and carefully, but I had no patience for it and certainly no time. My parents would be home in thirty-four minutes.

I pulled his face up and pressed my lips to his. Greedily our lips moved together, soon I felt his tongue and sighed pleasantly. Jared slowed down the kiss, but not the intensity. It was as if we hadn't seen each other in days. He was visibly enjoying the moment. The hand that wasn't fridging me through my pants cupped my breast. His thumb circled around my nipple. Sometimes he pinched them through the shirt, then stroked them apologetically.

Jared never struck me as the ladies' man, but he obviously had experience.

As the pressure on my shorts increased, I moaned softly. After I released his lips, he stepped back a bit. Both hands went into the waistband of my shorts and pulled it down along with the briefs. I lifted my hips to help him. As promised, he left my skirt on.

His fingers stroked up my calves, snaked up the inside of my thighs, and paused at the hollow between my leg and hip.

I pulled back briefly to look him in the eye.

"Would you wash your hands first?" apologetically, I stroked his shoulders. I was afraid of ruining the mood or having to explain myself. He just nodded and went to the sink. Relieved, I leaned back on my arms. When Jared turned back to me, I opened my legs a little wider. He stopped and eyed me.

Challenging 'em, I spread them open wider, his view blocked by the skirt, but not diminishing the effect. I noticed the bulge in his pants and felt bad for not giving him any attention so far.

"Come here.", I said softly and extended a hand to him. Without further hesitation, he was back within my reach. I pressed my lips to his neck now and ran my hand down to his penis. Stroking over the shorts, I lightly nibbled at his skin. In turn, he stroked the inside of my thighs. He was damn close to my private parts. Unlike him, I wasn't as patient and was about to pull his pants off.

Surprised, I looked up at him as he put his hands on mine to stop me.

"Not yet:" was all he said. His voice was unfamiliar smoky, but led to more tingling sensations in my bottom.

Jared furrowed two fingers over my labia and distracted me with a gentle kiss. Agonizingly slowly, he ran his fingers once around and past my pleasure spot.

"God, you're so wet," he gasped. I resisted the urge to grimace.

"I don't like that kind of dirty talking," I explained to him carefully.

"Oh, okay. What kind then?" He looked at me intently, but the movements of his fingers distracted me somewhat. It seemed like he was looking for something-

"How about we focus on one thing first."

I kissed him again, because we were good at that. Along the way, my hand wrapped around his and guided him firmly to the point where I needed him. Almost immediately, his finger began to gently draw circles.

"Right there.", I sighed against his mouth and dropped my head onto his shoulders. Jared's other hand continued up and down my thigh. I now had my arms around his neck, so he could work undisturbed.

He was consistent and patient. I had already noticed this in the last few weeks of our relationship, but now I really realized the importance of these qualities. As if on their own, my legs spread out, so he could have better access. I exhaled shakily, my body yearning for more. Without further thought, my hand settled over my chest and took attention to it.

"You like that?",

I heard Jared ask hesitantly. I just nodded, too caught up in the pleasure to answer. Slowly, Jared increased the pace and his grip on my leg tightened. My moans were muffled by his shoulders. I felt like my body was burning up, and I longed to cool down. The grip around my chest became rougher, and I left my other hand on the back of his neck, pulling him down to me.

"Faster.", I mumbled before eagerly capturing his lips. This kiss was not patient and gentle, but dirty and greedy. At one point, I felt his teeth. Jared was no longer drawing circles, but making frantic and choppy movements. I quickly corrected him and groaned loudly as he found the right pace.

"Fuck, yes," I gasped. My hips had taken control and were meeting his movements. I took turns massaging my breasts, getting closer and closer to my climax. My legs tightened, my hand dug into his hair, and I was no longer able to concentrate on kissing him. Instead, he leaned his forehead against mine.

"Open your eyes, look at me," I heard his voice through the rapidly rushing blood.

It wasn't easy for me, but I looked up at him with half-open eyes.

"You're so beautiful, you know that?" He slowly increased his speed, causing my eyelids to fall shut. Groaning, I submitted to the feeling.

"No, open your eyes and look at me while you come," Jared murmured. I bit my lips as I looked into his eyes. He nodded and smiled proudly.

"Yeah, just like that. Now you can come."

As if my body had just been waiting for it, my muscles contracted internally, and I let out a long-drawn-out moan. My hand had tightened around my breast; it was painful, but a good kind of pain. Jared's gaze held me captive the whole time he was doing this.

After I came down from my climax, I dropped my head to his shoulder and leaned against him.

"We should go upstairs."

[1ddiscourseoftheday]

Mon 7 June ‘21

Liam’s podcast with Steve Bartlett is out and while I still don’t care about that guy I’ll give him this-- he does great at getting out of the way and letting Liam talk. And boy does Liam talk! Liam says A LOT and let’s all just pause to send him some big hugs before we get into right? And then look to the future- Liam’s routine is to say ‘things have been terrible but it’s fine, it’s fine NOW’, always, even when that is absolutely obviously not true, and today is no different but for once I actually believe some of his hopeful bits too which is so great! I hope things really are shifting for him and I can’t wait to hear this new song of his. But there’s a lot that’s hard to hear too, oh Liam. He said that he and Maya have broken up (so yes, presumably why he just moved again such a short time after they moved into their haunted house), talked about his struggles with his alcoholism (and said he’s been sober for a month right now, go babe!), shared the usual distressing stories about his time in the band and what that was like for him (and how it still impacts him), and he talked about his new song and how it feels different for him than his past solo music. Truly though there is SO MUCH more than I can get into here or then you can get from the UA highlights- I HIGHLY recommend actually watching at least parts of the video, also because the attempt to summarize so much erases all the charm and humor, of which there is much. If you don’t think you want to watch Liam’s interviews, it has to be because you aren’t watching Liam’s interviews, they’re delightful! Plus really if you care about 1D and want information about what it was like for any of them, listen to Liam, he’s the one who’s out there talking about it.

About Maya he said, that yes, he is now single, and “I’ve just been not been very good at relationships,” and “I’m a proper perfectionist… at the start of the relationship you put out this complete false character like I might as well go in in costume, I’m like putting out something that is not there... kind of like encompassing someone else’s life with your crap rather than just doing your thing and laying out your store from day one. That’s my biggest problem is that I feel like I don’t lay out my store... and then I’m annoyed when they don’t like what I like,” and “I think my problem is I struggle to be on my own sometimes... I dive in and out of relationships too quickly. I’ve not spent enough time on my own to relearn about myself.”

He laughs about his tendency to ask his manager things during interviews; “My fans think that Steve is doing something to me, they’re like liberty for Liam because he always looks to Steve, but that’s because I like him. It’s not because he’s harming me as a person. There’s like a hashtag Liberty for Liam because they think I’m some like prison child,” and he also said “my manager’s my best friend,” (and he’s said in the past he is a big support for him) and mentioned stuff they’d talked about recently around his therapeutic awakenings.

He talked about therapy being something you have to want to do and be ready to do rather than being pushed into, like getting sober, and says that this time around with his own therapy work he’s really felt that and thrown himself into it and he talked a lot about his relationship to therapy in connection with band days. “I mean one of our old managers went to therapy from being a manager of One Direction. So if you can imagine how that feels like the rest of us definitely need some.”

“We were young,” he said, “What I found was I didn’t know I was the boss until like a few months ago, I still don’t even feel like I am now, like I’m such a child. And everyone I work with now is older than me and wiser than me and I’m like what the hell am I doing here with these people. When we were 17 I thought the security guard was like in charge of me so I was like Can we leave the room? No? Oh ok then,” and “when we were in the band, the best way to secure us was just lock us in our rooms. And of course what’s in the room? Minibar. So at a certain point, I thought Well I’m gonna have a party for one and that just seemed to carry on throughout many years of my life... You know I spoke to somebody about this in child development as a teen, the one thing you need is freedom to make choices. That we could do anything we wanted it seemed from the outside but we were always locked in a room at night and then it would be car, hotel room, stage, sing, locked. So it’s like they pulled the dust cloth off, let us out for a minute, but then it’s back underneath again,” and “the day the band ended I was like thank the lord for that. And I know a lot of people are going to be mad with me for saying that, but I needed it to stop. It would kill me.” Anyway, he said, because it wouldn’t be Liam without an upbeat coda, “I don’t want any of this to get lost in translation. I’m not 100% moaning about my life... it’s had its ups and its downs, but I would rather talk about it and it’s therapeutic for me.”

And what about that exciting new song? Liam said, “We have a really cool song in the pipeline... one of the first ones I’ve actually written myself- with some other people, I didn’t write it by myself, but it’s the first one I’ve really liked. And I think I got so used used carting around other peoples songs and not embedding myself creatively in what I do because I was so scared to find out who I was,” and “I don’t really know how I would tour again. I really want to” [on discord today he said he would be touring next year] “I always said throughout my solo career I’d let my song book speak to me. And I don’t think my song book spoke to me to get off my ass. I only became a solo artist because I had Strip That Down. I wasn’t gonna do it, I was gonna leave it alone. I was like, I survived it once thank you very much- but I’m back in now. Because the song, I knew it was right. It felt right with that song, I hadn’t had that. This year, the song we have I feel really really great about. So I’d rather let the music do the talking than me come out and force it. We don’t need any more useless music in the world, it needs to mean something,” and he mentioned the new song on the discord a lot too, most notably picking out a long comment that thanked him for making the fan feel supported and safe and for “putting your heart in everything you do” and for his support of the LGBTQ community to respond to with, “I think you will really like the new song.”

A few other random bits, he said that he thinks there should be a system to make therapy available to musicians in the industry, “I think I’m definitely gonna get a dog because I need routine,” and “I recently started jujitsu,” yeah you and everyone else huh, so do him and Louis and Oli go to the same gym or ???, and he acknowledged that as an addict he may have just transferred that to working out “but there’s a lot worse things to be addicted to then looking after yourself” hmm but he does seem to say that he’s doing better around body image stuff; he talks about having put on weight during lockdown and seeing himself in the BAFTAS performance- “I saw myself... and I was like ‘oh my god I’ve completely let myself go in this’. And it was fine...I feel so much more secure in myself now.” Oh and that he’s written a comedic movie script “based around AA” and his experiences there, such as how “I had a really weird AA experience the first time that I went. My first experience was with Russell Brand.” LMAO yes! Cannot wait, bring on auteur Liam please! Anyway as if ALL THAT wasn’t enough he’s also dove into the lead up to his NFT release; he said “I'm almost ready to share my NFTs with you guys... Who wants to see them?” and posted a tiny preview that tells us its (their?) title for the first time- Lonely Bug.

Niall and Anne Marie perform on Jimmy Fallon tonight, and the hype is already a go! I guess it’s prerecorded, as we’re already seeing pictures from it; they’re singing to each other with the cute car from the video in the background. Niall signed on to a letter to Boris Johnson asking for changes to music streaming revenue rules and signed by 232 artists (including all the artists Johnson recently named as his favorites, haha). Zayn signed on to a Billboard petition to the US senate calling for gun safety laws. The bar Zayn got into the fight in front of posted “Zayn's a regular at Amsterdam Billiards and he is a true gentleman. On Thursday night he was confronted by an inebriated passer-by outside on the street and was called a homophobic slur. We support Zayn & condemn homophobia in the strongest terms!” And also PS omg again because it just isn’t going away: Harry’s beauty company is called Pleased As, his name is Harry Edward Styles so yes when listed last name first, as legal documents do, it spells SHE but it is not a “feminist abbreviation” (WHAT? even??) nor the name of the business.

[captainsimagines]

To Topple A Giant || Chapter One

Summary: You had made it your mission to destroy even the smallest evils. When the opportunity arises to finally take down your own family after years of gaining their trust, you reach for it. And so does Steve, the man who represents a symbol of everything you hate. 

Pairing(s): Steve Rogers x Reader || Avengers x Reader

Part 1 of 10 ~ Mini-Series

Trope: ‘Enemies to Lovers’; mainly angst, mutual pining, fluff, and eventual smut

Warnings: This story contains mature themes and discussions such as extreme canon violence, strong language, emotional angst, mentions of Endgame deaths and recoveries, sexual situations, and emotional/physical abuse. All trigger warnings will be listed before the chapter. This is purely fanfiction. 

Word Count: 4000+

A/N: Ooo, let’s hope this does numbers! I love myself some ‘enemies to lovers’ tropes. It’s been a while since I’ve written Steve fanfics. :)

~

Wakanda, 2018, 4:04 pm.

     The flash of bright white light temporarily blinded you, sending you back to the ground and cupping your face in self-defense. But as quickly as the initial crack, it was over. Eerily silent and loud at the same time. The birds whistled their same tune, some higher-pitched than others. The wind seemed to blow louder, rustling the leaves from the trees and landing all around you and your teammates. 

“Thor?”

You lifted your head at the sound of Steve’s voice and checked if the coast was clear. All that remained of the evil was a new blood-stained hammer - a hammer that Thor was watching intensely, as if the answer lay hidden there. It was the only remnant left and your mind was already wondering how to use it to bring that evil back to finish a fair fight. 

“Where’d he go?”

The birds stopped singing. 

“Steve?”

You whipped your head around at the sound of Bucky’s confused voice, watching as one of your best friends dropped his gun and looked up at Steve as his hands began to disappear. In a matter of seconds, Bucky - or what became of him - fell to the dirt below. No one spoke, and you watched as Steve tried to control his breathing as he took a knee to place his shaking hand over his best friend’s ashes. A life and mind brought out of the darkness to finally amend those knots he had twisted, now ceasing to exist. In the distance you could hear Okoye shout in turmoil and Rocket begin begging. 

“What’s happening?” you finally choked out, turning just in time to see Wanda lift her head to the sky, defeated and out of will, and succumb to the same fate. “No!”

You ran and fell beside Vision’s now gray and decaying body, reaching over and palming through Wanda’s ashes. You rubbed them between your fingers, inspecting them, and brought your hand to your chest. The pit of your stomach churned as you sat there, immobile and numb. 

“Sam!”

So many names were being called but soon everyone who remained fell silent. The trees were still guiding the wind, leaves falling into the ashes of your friends, a sign of a new and unwanted chapter. You felt Steve drop beside you, turning Vision around to see the damage to his body. You winced when you saw the gaping hole in his forehead. 

“What is this? What’s happening?”

Natasha ran to where you were seated, hand over her stomach as if she was ready to vomit. And once she took one look at Vision, that’s exactly what she did. 

You removed your hands from your chest to look at them, the ashes still there and practically mocking you into finally believing this as reality. “Did we just lose?”

Steve was moments away from a full-blown panic attack. He simply looked up at the trees, watching the way the sunlight still burst through with no disruption. “Oh god.”

You caught Steve as he tipped his upper body toward you, wrapping his arms around your waist and holding onto something real. He had to believe you were real. Anyone. And you were the closest person to him. You shut your eyes and held him, running your hands through his hair, wincing when you realized Wanda’s ashes were now on him.

You held him tight, praying to any God you chose to believe in at that moment, that Steve wouldn’t disappear too. 

Unknown Location, 2025, 1:07 pm.

     The air was incredibly musty, as if each person who struggled for breath in this room at one point or another left a piece of their soul floating in search of last minute penance for their sins. And the man in front of you was no different, choking on the purple blood that dripped down his neck and onto his now unbuttoned, white dress shirt. His chest was rising and falling, his breathing becoming less labored with each blink of the eye. His hands were tied behind his back and to the chair he sat on, a flickering light in the corner of the dark, concrete room somehow mocking this man’s last remaining seconds of life. 

“I’m not an evil person,” you started, kicking one of the legs of the chair to startle the poor man. But your guilt was minimal - it’s not like you wanted to do this - but knowing this man did exactly what everyone said he did, hands red and dripping with young blood, you selfishly took pleasure knowing this man would look at you when he died. “It’s just my job as third in command.”

You gave the man a small smile as you bent down to his level, head hanging in shame, slow breaths now pausing in between each intake. You looked to the other party in the room, handing them the gun in your holster, and walked out the room as the sound of two gunshots rang out. 

Left twist. Sting. Breathe. 

You washed away any smell from that godforsaken room, giving extra attention to the roots of your hair and under your fingertips. 

Scrub. Wash. Rinse. Repeat. 

The crack of your neck frightened even you, and you stood under the burning shower for a few more minutes before deciding the sting was enough. You changed into the most comfortable sweats you owned, surprisingly calm for such a gruesome morning you had, and took your time with your skin care routine. 

Circle. Wash. Dry.

Soft music played in the overhead speakers, the classical sounds vibrating from one wall to another and surrounding you with something tranquil - something still. There was nothing to expect from such a sound, only the next repeated chorus, no words or drops - just tranquility. You could barely hear yourself breathe but you were at peace - or mostly - and ready to sooth your growing headache behind the eyeballs with more than just music. You slipped on a pair of comfy, forest green socks and bent them at the ankle to achieve an even fluffier look. You applied your favorite perfume, lotioned up your hands, and donned your tacky friendship bracelet. 

One for you. One for Bucky. One for Peter. And one for Wanda. 

You hummed the whole way to the common room, waving at the morning staff as they fixed lightbulbs, covered holes in the walls, and swept the floors. One muffin and a cup of coffee later, you were resting with your head in Wanda’s lap as she filled your thoughts with your chosen sceneries.

      “I can make you see anything you have already seen, so yes.”

“A miniature golf course, Peter’s high school graduation, a field of all kinds of flowers, and Natasha.”

Wanda stilled her floating hand, smile faltering for a moment before she nodded. “Okay… okay, I can do that.”

     They were images well-drawn out, slow and steady to make the atmosphere similar to when you were actually there. They seemed to float across your vision, comfortable in their positions and radiating the same warmth you had felt the first time around. A moving picture. Wanda really had excellent control of this. 

     “I won!” Sam leapt into the air, pointing at a disgruntled Bucky, who stepped off to the side to not throw Sam over his own head. “I won!”

“How is it possible for you to get a hole-in-one each fucking turn?” Bucky groaned, moping in Wanda’s shoulder as she held him and struggled to keep herself standing from her own intense laughs. 

“I think we got a cheater on the loose,” Steve grinned, pointing at the ring Sam was trying to discreetly tuck back into his pocket. A friendly gift from T’Challa, no doubt. 

“Nuh-uh, give me the fucking proof, Wilson!” Bucky roared, wrapping his arm around Sam’s neck and tugging him forward. “I will not admit defeat if there was foul play involved!”

Sam escaped the hold, climbing onto the rock located to the side of the flag and a sign that read ‘do not climb on rocks’. 

“It just helped me calculate all things geometry, Barnes. We’re good.”

Bucky looked as if he was going to leap on him again, but before he could even finish that thought, Sam slipped on the wet surface and plummeted into the rushing little river. 

Laughter erupted and did not cease until you were escorted out of the fairgrounds by four security guards. 

     A flick of Wanda’s wrist and a new memory began forming, colors blending like an oil painting, dried and covered with a glossy varnish, ready to hang. 

     “Don’t trip on your way up, kid.”

Peter swatted Steve in the side as the super soldier left the room, leaving Peter alone in front of the full-length mirror. He adjusted his tie and tried to lay that pesky dangling strand of hair over the top of his head.

You got up from the couch and made your way over, wrapping your arms around Peter and resting your chin on his shoulder. “You’ll do great. We’re all so proud.”

“It’s just high school…”

You frowned and turned him to face you. “No, you should already be in your second year of college. This is seven years in the making. We are all so proud.”

Peter could feel the slight burn at the corner of his eyes but he swallowed it down, giving you a small smile and a hug. 

“And can you trip? Don’t you stick to all surfaces?”

Peter scoffed and pushed you away, his tiny smile never faltering.

     You could feel Wanda shift her legs underneath you, searching for the most comfortable position as she continued her work. You sighed, already feeling the therapeutic effects. 

     “They’re all so pretty!” you yelled cheerfully, running through the field with your arms extended to the sky. Bucky and Steve followed close behind, leaning down every so often to pluck the flower of their choosing and adding to the bouquet in their hand. 

“Which did Tony prefer?” Steve asked, snapping you from your pollen-filled, ecstatic state. 

“Aesthetic beauty, Rogers! Natasha was a sucker for anything pink and sunflowers.”

Bucky nodded, seeming to take that information into consideration as he plucked the yellow and pink flowers only. Steve chose the most healthy looking flowers, his hand struggling to hold them together as he reached the two dozen mark. 

“I think we’re good. These are good.”

You smiled at both super soldiers and admired their bouquets, leaning over to sniff their masterpieces. “Awesome.”

     Wanda sighed as she neared your last vision, debating on showing you your chosen moment instead of another one. This moment always hurt Wanda as she wasn’t there to witness it, but it was special to you. There were so many others to choose from, but you insisted this was the one you always wanted to see. And Wanda was always hesitant at first - but when she lifted her hand slowly and dropped the memory back into the front of your brain, she couldn’t help but smile. 

     “Are we ready?”

Everyone was practically bouncing on their heels, both excited and terrified. Time travel was new to humanity and you were to be one of the first to experience such a thrill. You were going to get everyone back. 

You squeezed Natasha’s hand once more before you walked back over to Thor and Rocket. You all nodded to each other, saying ‘goodbye’ and ‘good luck’ with your childlike expressions. 

“See you in a minute,” Natasha grinned, her cheeks reddening with a friendly blush as she looked over at Steve. Her hair was pulled back into a braid, a braid you had helped her make, and she was carrying an extra pair of socks in case of a long hike. 

Then a blast of color surrounded your body and the smell of peaches as you landed on Asgard filled your overstimulated senses. 

     You opened your eyes and smiled up at Wanda. You didn’t want to see old memories with your friend, but the most recent. It was like you were grasping onto that last memory of her, not wanting to change anything about her last smile, her last laugh, her last shred of existence. It was oddly calming, and so you hoped Wanda would understand. 

You thanked her again and proceeded to the kitchen. It was bigger than the one before, the soft forest green color of the walls a nice contrast from the blue ones before. You laughed to yourself and your conscience as you silently thanked the explosion that obliterated the horrid blue walls, quickly backtracking at your dumb thoughts. Still, you chose to joke about everything that happened before to avoid falling deeper into yourself. The kettle started howling, smoke circling around the tip. You poured your tea, dropped two cubes of sugar in, and added a little milk. 

It was quite bizarre how quickly you could bounce back from the morning you had. A very bloody, order-filled morning. When one order was given, you had to come up with a plan on how to not disregard the other. You had to listen to Fury and your father, gaining a few feet on each side without toppling the other. Still, it took a physical toll on you. But with Wanda’s help in easing your mind and the very sweet tea you nursed, your emotional baggage was pretty minimal. It sometimes scared you how easy it all was. 

Your morning carried on quietly as you sat on the concrete curb, happily sipping your tea in your sweatpants. You could hear Sam and Scott arguing about something a few feet away from you and Bucky taking his afternoon jog around the track. Quite distracted, the sudden ‘thwip’ and superhero landing of a certain teenager scared you enough to spill a little of your tea. 

“Goddamn, dude!” you whined, looking up at Peter as he tried to control his laughter. 

 “I’m sorry, I thought you saw me!”

“Excuse me for being distracted by the hot super soldier just over there,” you joked, pointing over at Bucky. 

Peter rolled his eyes and sat next to you, immediately reaching over to take the tea from you and take a sip himself. You let him, as you had no other choice, rolling your eyes anyway. 

“What are you doing here? I thought you had classes today?”

Peter handed back your cup, “Nah, I’ve only got classes every Tuesday and Thursday.”

“Ugh, that sounds great. I remember I scheduled my classes for every day of the week just to have more units,” you sighed, taking another sip of tea. 

 “Stupid.”

You pushed Peter’s shoulder playfully, both your laughter catching the attention of Sam and Scott. But as quickly as you had distracted them, they ignored you and went back to bickering. 

“I’m just here to see my friends, sue me!”

“Nope, you’re always welcome,” you smiled, holding out your wrist and bumping your bracelet with his. “How was your week otherwise?”

“Eh, nothing major. Just trying to navigate the world now that they know who's behind the mask.”

You gave Peter a look of sympathy, still mad at the sudden manipulation of the kid after such traumatic events. You had promised him you would protect him by any means possible, as did the rest of the team, but he seemed to be navigating the situation just fine. Staying away from reporters, scheduling his classes during the most isolated gaps of the day, and signing dozens of forms that promised to protect him, give him royalties, etc. After you had brought everyone back, it seemed the least the new management/orders could provide for you all. 

“We all have our days,” you muttered, handing your tea back to Peter. You two sat there for a while longer, enjoying the slight breeze and taste of sugar. 

An agent rounded the corner and spotted you, jogging up and handing you a yellow folder that was sealed in plastic. “For you, from Fury, from whoever before that.”

“Um, thank you?” you said as the agent walked away. You inspected the folder, turning it over in your hands and playing with the thin plastic. 

You lifted it up to Peter’s face, “Here, smell it and tell me if there’s poison.”

Peter scoffed, “I can’t do that!”

“Don’t you lie to me.”

Peter muttered to himself as he took the folder from you, sniffing it awkwardly. “Smells like paper, dude.”

“Cool, thanks.” 

You ripped the plastic off and unhooked the folder, dropping the single item onto your lap. Peter just sipped your tea and watched you open it. 

It was another envelope, but this one was white with custom-printed indents that swirled across the front and a big, red blob of wax smushed- with your initials- sealing it. You ripped it open and pulled the invitation from inside. You must have read it a thousand times, eyes rapidly scanning the small page with secret meanings. 

“You got invited to a wedding?” Peter asked, taking it from you and reading it himself. 

“Yeah, but this is so much more than that,” you said, snatching it back and standing up from the curb. You quickly went back into the compound, searching for the one person who needed to read it also.

You seemed to find everyone before you found the super soldier who wasn’t out for a jog, a line of somewhat concerned superheroes following behind you from room to room. Eager minds and yet, inflexible rib cages full of anxiety and worry, all ready (and quite not) to tackle the new evils of this new world. And whether they followed you blindly or with functioning minds, they were prepared. 

With the rest of the team behind you, you burst through the second floor with the invitation held over your head. Steve stopped mid-bite, milk dripping from his bottom lip as he stared at everyone in confusion. “Um…”

“It’s time-” you started, pulling the stool from next to him and sitting down. 

“Time for what?” Steve interrupted, his mouth still full of cereal.

“Time for this,” you motioned to the envelope you were handing him. “-to finally end.”

Steve read the invitation word for word, the wrinkles in his forehead becoming deeper as his mind worked. You couldn’t quite discern the feeling in the pit of your stomach, twisting and spinning into a tight coil, seeming to spread to the others as it grew in pressure within you. 

“All three?”

“All three,” you confirmed. 

Peter pushed through Bruce and Rhodey, “What’s happening? What’s gonna end?”

You looked over at Steve, his bowl of cereal now forgotten and soggy. 

His eyes were distant and rather cold, hands extended on his knees as if he was drying the accumulating sweat, shoulders building tension. 

“Steve, we can finally end this. We have to tell everyone. It won’t be enough if it’s just you and me.”

He wanted to explode, in both anger and anguish, to stumble over his intact persona and leave it behind - someone he hasn’t known for a long time. It ate away at him each day since Fury notified him of your selfish choice, burrowing into his now tarnished soul in the most sadistic way. But the prospect of finishing this chapter - a chapter that was unexpectedly halted when half the world disappeared - was considerably euphoric. A chance to move on. 

“Okay.”

Rhodey already had knowledge of your background, recruitment, and family but Steve’s initial involvement - the start of it - was still a mystery. You sat everyone down in the living room, making room for the others who arrived later, and clapped your hands together. “Story time!”

Steve groaned, face already pressed against a throw pillow. “Just tell them.”

You rolled your eyes at him. 

“You know whose spawn I’m from,” you began, snickers from your amused friends encouraging you. “To better transport their product, they sent me over to the states to attend college like the good little girl they think I am.”

Sam cracked open a beer and lifted his legs up onto the couch, sitting back with a massive smile on his face as he got comfortable for your story. He handed another beer to Scott. 

“Wait, product?” Scott asked, taking a sip from his drink. 

You smirked at him and tapped your nose twice, amused by his ‘O’ reaction. “Anyway, by then I already knew that I wanted out of the game. I didn’t like that life, I didn’t like the violence, I didn’t like my family.”

Steve knew that was an understatement, a cruel and restrained statement from your part, and he wanted to tell everyone just how justified you were in your words, how real you were being, and how much help you would certainly need for this. But like always, he remained silent. 

“But Fury got to me before I could leave. So, we made a deal. I would train as a field agent and he would promote me every other year to lessen suspicion on this whole ordeal. The deal being I would play both teams.”

By now, your whole team was intrigued. 

“I would do what I could for my father and still have my family’s trust, while feeding the information to SHIELD and our lovely star-spangled man over here,” you pointed over at Steve. He gave you a tiny but forced smile. 

“But after the collapse of SHIELD, my father only became more violent, more hard-headed, more suspicious. He- uh-” you stuttered, flashbacks suddenly filling your head. Wanda watched your eyes dart rapidly, sensing the rush of blood to your legs and tips of your fingers.

“He was power hungry,” Wanda said, immediately feeling your heart rate lower. Although you never actually said it, she could tell you were grateful for her intrusion. 

“Yeah, exactly,” you cleared your throat. “But Steve’s involvement all started when Fury asked me who would be the best front - the most reliable front.”

“So, with only Fury and the bad guys knowing - Y/N named me as her partner in crime,” Steve explained, head hanging low as if it was such a disgrace to do what you openly did. You knew his troubles with coming to terms with such an offensive role were multiplying daily, but you were now this close to stopping  every bad force involved. 

 “So, Captain America is the ultimate drug smuggler,” Scott spoke, somehow trying to comprehend the information all at once. You and Steve both nodded in confirmation and avoided the wide and questioning eyes looking back at you. 

“Yeah, he’s essentially the top boss.”

“Y/N-,” Steve interjected, but you beat him to  it. 

“And here we are! Him and I both invited to the wedding.”

Wanda stretched out her words, “The wedding?”

“Yes, the wedding - where three of the most famous and powerful drug lords south of the border will be attending and ready for our taking - including my father.”

Steve stood from his seat, posture straightening as he spoke to the group. “The invitation reads like a threat. No cameras, no plus-ones besides those listed specifically on the card, no speaking to reporters before or after. The trust Y/N has gained would unknowingly make us the contraband of the party.”

After going through more specifics about the whole situation, Bucky finally raised the question eating away at his mind this whole time. “Whose wedding is it, anyway?”

You grinned that stupid little grin Steve always prepared himself for. It was the grin you would display whenever you were going to make a serious matter a joke, or brush something serious off your shoulder as if it didn’t bother you. The sarcastic grin he always wanted to wipe off your face as you defied orders. 

“My lovely little sister’s.”

Rhodey stepped forward to take the invitation for personal inspection, “When is it?”

“A week from tomorrow,” you beamed. “Which means I got to get shopping for a wonderful little, red number!”

“Please, be more excited about this,” Steve groaned, sarcasm dripping off each syllable. 

You flicked your right hand up and in position to flash your charming little middle finger at him, a river of fluffed ego and delight flowing to your cheeks as he huffed and left the room in a stumbled march.

“So…” Scott’s voice ripped through the awkward silence. “We’ve been secret drug smugglers this whole time?”

~

Please let me know what you think! I listened “The Archer” by Taylor Swift and I was like... yes, I see this, lmao. Tell me if you would like to be tagged in later updates! xxMoni

[lunabonita]

My Webtoon Recommendations

These are webtoons that are all 10/10 for me. Of course it doesn’t have to be a 10/10 for you, so just a reminder, do not attack me for liking a webtoon that you do not. These are my opinions and we are not going to have the exact same taste. Please be respectful.

Your Throne

Genre: Fantasy

Chapters: 75

Status: Ongoing

-

“Tensions are brewing under the seemingly calm surface of the Vasilios Empire, a kingdom ruled by the Imperial Family and the Temple. Lady Medea Solon has lost her place next to Crown Prince Eros, but resolves to win back whats rightfully hers. Will she reclaim her throne?”

You know whats amazing about this webtoon? The summary leads you to think that what shes winning back is the prince. Wrong. Shes trying to win back the throne. I love how this webtoon doesn’t try to make it a girl focusing her goals on a man, but on power. Medea is such a strong and well written character that you can’t help but love her.

The second protagonist Pschye, who of which is the person who took Medeas place as Crown Princess, is the complete opposite of Medea. At the beginning you hate her, but as the webtoon goes on and Medea and her get a better understanding of eachother due to them switching bodies as a wish from God, you begin to root for them as they team up to take over the throne from the Crown Prince.

The art is so beautiful and I constantly found myself at awe from the amount of detail put into it.

-

The Makeup Remover

Genre: Romace

Chapters: 78

Status: Ongoing

-

“After years of being told to focus on studying, Yeseul feels lost when she starts college and is suddenly expected to pay attention to makeup. When a chance encounter with brilliant makeup artist Yuseong leads to her taking part in a televised makeup competition, Yeseul begins to question the role that makeup and appearance play in society.”

This was created by one of my favorite webtoon creators Lee Yone. Their art is just so amazing and their stories always include such good topics.

For instance, The Makeup Remover’s theme is loving yourself for who you are. It shows how people treat you based on your looks and as someone whos struggled with that kind of thing for a while, this webtoon really touched me. The main character Yeseul is such a relatable character, even when trying to reject beauty standards, she still came subject to the pressures of living up to the people around her. She struggles with trying to love her own appearance and I really like that this webtoon didn’t try to be like, ‘fuck the beauty standard im better than that screw pretty people!!!’ it actually showed realistically how people struggle with self-image. I also love the main love interest because oh my god, we need more men like him please. He doesn’t care about Yeseul’s appearance and genuinely loves her for her personality.

Also, art is amazing. The author is so talented and you should support them by reading and liking the chapters.

-

Surviving Romance

Genre: Horror

Chapters: 14

Status: Ongoing

-

“When Chaerin Eun becomes the protagonist of the romance novel she is reading, she expects a fairytale ending with the novel’s love interest, Jeha. But when a bizarre twist makes her realize the story is not playing out as it does in the book, she’ll need the help of an unlikely character from her class to defy the new storyline and find her happy ending - if only she can figure out who this ‘Unknown Extra’ is first!”

Hands down one of my favorite webtoons by a long shot. You ever see a webtoon and think, ‘oh yeah, thats going to be a good webtoon’? Thats how this webtoon was for me. It was so good that I spent hours searching for other chapters that hadn’t been uploaded to webtoon yet on other manhua websites. I discovered it because it was also by the author of ‘The Makeup Remover’.

If there is one thing you need to know about me, its that I am a huge horror fan. So when I saw that my favorite author on webtoon had a horror themed webtoon out? You bet your behind that I binged it. Let me tell you, best choice ever.

Think of it as if ‘Ino’s Law’ and ‘Quarantine’ were combined with amazing art and a badass MC.

The Remarried Empress

I love how it is set up to the point where she cannot ‘quit’ until she completes the novel. Creating scenarios where she must survive while meeting the standards in the book. It is such an amazingly written webtoon and I cannot wait for more chapters to be released.

-

Genre: Fantasy

Chapters: 82

Status: Ongoing

-

“Navier Ellie Trovi was an empress perfect in every way - intelligent, courageous, and socially adept. She was kind to her subjects and devoted to her husband. Navier was perfectly content to live the rest of her days as the wise empress of the Eastern Empire. That is, until her husband brought hone a mistress and demanded a divorce. ‘I accept this divorce… And i request an approval of my remarriage.’ In a shoking twist Navier remaarries another emperor and retains her title and childhood dream as empress. But just how did everything unfold? “

Am I in love with Navier? Yes.

I absolutely adore how this story was set up. The first chapter begins with the big divorce scene, followed by Navier saying that she was going to be remarrying someone else since he wants to divorce her. This sets up a picture that gets completely shattered as you read the chapters. How everything falls into place with the reason behind the divorce and the remarriage is just so well written. The art is so good and and everything is just so insanely well done.

I absolutely love Naviers character, from her regalness and devoted loyalty to her role as empress, all the way to her petty moments and times of sadness. She is truly a character that you want the best for, and I cannot image anyone not liking her. Also the story is just so capable of making you feel emotions. I’ve laughed, cried, and got angry during the course of reading this webtoon. I love how betrayed I felt when the emperor brought home his mistress. It felt like I was in Navier’s shoes!

This is such a well done webtoon and I'm so excited for Navier to get all of the good things she deserves in her new Kingdom and with her new husband.

-

Witch Creek Road

Genre: Horror

Chapters: 74

Status: Ongoing

-

“A survival horror about love, acceptance, death, and revenge. And sexy flesh-eating demons. Yeah, it has those, too.”

This series seriously mind fucked me. The way that this story is set up, you don’t see the full picture until the later chapters. Season two literally blew my mind. It is also very gorey so keep that in mind if you don’t like that kind of stuff, but for me that makes it all the better. It is just so wild and crass that you can feel your heart pumping in anticipation.

They even have their own website that goes further into the lore because it’s just so wild. Also the art style is just so amazing, because it complements the story and horror theme so much. You hate most of the characters because they suck, and it is so satisfying when they are killed. Also it has it’s sad moments but I think it is a nice break from the horror so it isn’t so overwhelmingly scary.

I binged this series and I recommend reading only a few chapters a day so you don’t overload your brain.

Other then that, an amazing webtoon. Seriously, go read it, support the author, so much work goes into the story and art that it’s insane.

-

Dating With A Tail

Genre: Romance

Chapters: 36

Status: Ongoing

-

“On the dawn of her 29th birthday, unlucky-in-love Yunha discovers a shocking family secret: she’s started growing a fox tail, the mark of an ancestral curse. She must find her fated love before her 30th birthday or she is destined to become a fox forever! Even with her new-found enchanting power to attract men using her scent, will one year be enough to break the curse before it’s too late?”

Oh my gosh this is just such a good webtoon. It has amazing art, story telling, and characters. The true love interest was there the whole time, the villain isn’t who you’d expect it to be, and the spirit who cursed her is just! Im not going to spoil it but go read this webtoon!! It is so good and deserves more love.

Also Yunha is just so relatable?? Like she put off finding the woodcutter (her fated love) for 29 years and waited last minute to find him. Homegirl is me trying to do a project for school. Also to get rid of the scent that makes men attracted to her, she just starts eating a ton of garlic and that is just so funny to me.

Also I would go to church for the priest anytime if you know what i mean ;)

-

Omniscient Reader

Genre: Action

Chapters: 53

Status: Ongoing

-

“Dokja was an average office worker whose sole interest was reading his favorite web novel ‘Three Ways to Survive the Apocalypse.’ But when the novel suddenly becomes reality, he is the only person who knows how the world will end. Armed with this realization, Dokja uses his understanding to change the course of the story, and the world, as he knows it.”

I cannot get over how high quality this story is. The world building is phenomenal, the art is fantastic, and the characters are very fleshed out. This deserved all the hype it has gotten so far and more.

I love the ‘mc thrown into a different reality’ trope so much. Just like with surviving romance, Dokja’s world became the story he was reading. Also a very cool aspect of the story is the level up and the fact that its like a game. Earth has turned into this show for god like creatures to watch and it follows Dokja trying to survive. I also really like that TWSA has a protagonist, but Omniscient Reader’s protagonist is not the protagonist that was in TWSA. There is just so much lore and I’ll say it again, the world building is just phenomenal.

The Ddokkaebi’s and Dokja’s interactions are also just some of my favorite moments from the story so far. And oh my goodness I would die for Lee Gilyoung. Thats it, thats the tweet. That little boy could probably kill me with his giant praying mantis and I would let him if it would make him happy.

-

Not So Shoujo Love Story

Genre: Comedy

Chapters: 45

Status: Ongoing

-

“Romance super-fan Rei Chan is ready for her first boyfriend and she knows just who it’ll be: the most handsome boy in school, Hansum Ochinchin. But her plans for the perfect story are derailed when the most popular girl in class declares herself a rival… for Rei’s heart?! This is the year her not so shoujo love story begins!”

This is just such a cute webtoon. The style is very appealing and while the humor can be childish and weird sometimes, it still has made me laugh a lot. I know the humors not for everyone but just keep in mind that it does get better as the story progresses and gets more serious.

Also its a gl! I’m really unable to find good gls these days that don’t fetishize wlw relationships. Rei being painted as a mean trouble maker whos just misunderstood and Hana being the ‘perfect girl’ who only wants Rei’s attention is such a cute dynamic. They balance each other out and better each other. Also stan Rei for constantly sticking up for Hana even if she doesn’t necessarily like her in the beginning, she has very good morals and sticks to them.

Also the defying stereotypes in this webtoon? Just god-tier. Really makes you think twice when you judge someone just on first impressions alone.

-

Odd Girl Out

Genre: Drama

Chapters: 264

Status: Ongoing

-

“After a successful winter break makeover, Nari is finally ready for her high school debut. But somehow, she ends up friends with the three prettiest girls in school! Follow Nari as she tries to navigate her brand new high school life surrounded by beauties.”

This story has made me cry multiple times. A lot, even. It is just such a beautiful tale of friendship and finding support in people who are unlike those around theme. It also tells a great story about how anybody can be the ‘odd girl out’. Be it the fat girl, the beautiful girl, the rich girl, or the laid back girl.

It goes so deep into its characters that you even feel bad for the minor antagonists. It really makes you feel for the characters and the reasons behind their actions. Also I know its long, believe me I binged all 260 chapters in the span of three days, but oh my god it is worth it. Also I know the art is kind of off-putting, in fact that’s kind of why I put off reading the story, but I’ve honestly grown to love it and the writing is so good that the art could be literal stick figures and it wouldn’t matter.

The story is amazing and also I just love Nari. She’s just the best.

-

Gremoryland

Genre: Horror

Chapters: 67

Status: Completed

-

“Six old school friends are invited to be the first visitors of GremoryLand, a new horror theme park that promises an experience as unique as it is spooky. But once this experience starts there is no turning back, and they find themselves tested beyond what they imagines, facing their most desperate fears in order to survive.”

This is definitely one of those stories were you kind of need to turn of your brain and choose to ignore ‘plot holes’ while reading the early chapters because this story definitely gets crazy if you don’t know the ending. Believe me if you stick with it it will all make sense and the satisfaction you get from finding the ending is just so worth it.

The story is so good, and who Gremory is you would literally never suspect. When it was revealed who Gremory was and how he was able to create Gremoryland is so fucking mind boggling that you would never guess. I had to do a double take. It wasn’t like one of those random characters with a vendetta type of twists, but like one you can pick out from clues throughout the story.

Its so good and twisted and just so worth at least giving it a chance.

-

These were some of my favorite webtoons on the app! Of course it’s not all of them because unfortunately there is a 10 image limit. I also made this because I’ve run out of new webtoons to read and would love if you guys commented some of your own recs. I can also do a part two with other ones I liked if y’all want more recommendations. You guys can even request specific categories like Drama or Sci-Fi and I can tell you my favorite ones from that genre.

Also a reminder - if you disagree with any of my praise of these webtoons be respectful about it. At the end of the day it’s my opinion and you don’t need to be rude when disagreeing with that opinion.

[shreddedparchment]

A Wife for Thor Pt.04

10/23/2020

Strong Arms and Honest Kisses

Pairing: King!Thor x Reader          Word Count: 3,636

Warnings: failed relationships, talks of lonliness, angst, FLUFF, complicated relationships

A/N: This one is a little shorter than my chapters recently. Part of this is because this felt like a complete chapter but I also did a lot of rewriting with this one. I wrote half of it, then deleted it. Then wrote it again. Then deleted it. I finally got a good flow going and this is the one I liked the most. I hope y’all like it too. If you happen to reblog, thanks so much for helping me spread my work! xoxo

Please do not REPOST my stories on any other sites or blogs.

REBLOGS are always welcome and appreciated!

The walk back to your room is awkward.

Full of fluttering hesitant energy.

There’s a new electricity between your body and Thor’s as he walks beside you, heavy feet falling slowly, with forethought.

He has his hands behind his back, feeling the need to keep them to himself after what happened in the garden.

You appreciate the space.

“That was my first kiss.” You admit, hating the silence between you because it feels like both of you want to say so much but are unwilling to speak first.

“Oh,” Thor laments, his gaze wavering. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be!” You rush to reassure him, shrugging a shoulder as you look straight once more. “I-I mean, you wanted a maiden, right? A virgin?”

When you look at him, he’s blushing, his cheeks a soft pink underneath that hay colored beard.

It’s cute and you feel a surge of warmth for him fill your chest.

“That wasn’t necessarily what I wanted.” He clarifies.

“Oh…” Your turn to lament. “I’m sorry.”

Suddenly, a flurry of worries come rushing forward. You don’t have any experience. None. Zero. Tonight has been the most action you’ve ever seen in your life.

No one has ever held your hand.

No one has ever been so caring and sweet.

No one has definitely ever kissed you.

No one has ever proposed.

You have no experience to offer Thor, as a wife, will you be able to satisfy him?

He’s a literal God. He’s really, super old, and has probably slept with lots of women…or…beings? Aliens?

How are you going to live up to that?

“I just…I’ve never even really liked anyone, so I never was with anyone, and I’m sorry-” You fret, stopping to look up at him.

He places his hands over yours, stopping your fidgeting.

“You have nothing to apologize for.” He whispers gently.

You meet his blue eye and it’s just as soft as his voice.

“We can talk about that part of our marriage later. Let’s take this one day at a time.”

“But I-I don’t know what to do with that. I mean, I kinda know but I don’t know. I don’t want to-I’m kinda scared of-”

Thor’s blush returns and your own neck is suddenly burning.

That previously terrifying image of Thor prying your legs open that you’d imagined back at home replays itself in your mind, this time the fear is not for the man himself but the act in general.

Thor’s hands finding the side of your neck interrupt your vocal vomit.

With you silenced, he traces the lines of your shoulders, the length of your arms before he takes hold of your elbows over your cloak which is keeping them warm.

“We have time, cherub.” The pet name comes out of nowhere and sounds so strange but good and you’re not sure you know how to breathe anymore. “Time to worry about many things later. Tonight, let’s just enjoy this agreement to try.”

With a lick to your lips, you nod, shutting your eyes as you’re overwhelmed by not only the pleasure that stupid pet name has given you but also his hands still wrapped around your elbows.

“Thank you for telling me.” Thor whispers, pulling you a little closer. “These are things that are good to know. I will be sure to make preparations for us.”

“Preparations?” You nearly squeak.

“Things to make it easier for you. But as I said,” his ears grow nice and red too, now. “We have plenty of time to think about that later. Almost three days!”

You scoff, “That’s not a lot of time, Thor.”

“No,” he chuckles. “I suppose you’re right.”

“This is happening so fast.”

“I know. And I’m sorry. That’s my fault. I’ve been putting this choice off for so long that now that I’ve made it, they want me to follow through quickly.” Thor takes a step back, reaching down to take your hand.

You eagerly hold his hand back, grateful for the comfort it gives you but also you really like holding his hand, you realize.

“Let’s get you to bed. Even though Hilde was completely drunk, she’ll still wake up early enough to make you hate her.” He pulls you along, his hand giving yours a gentle squeeze every few steps.

“Thor?”

“Hm?” He asks, not sparing you a glance.

“You don’t have to do this, you know?” Your own eyes are glued to his hand around yours.

You seriously like the way his hand looks around yours. Why are you letting yourself fall this hard? It’s not right. It’s not fair. To you. To him.

“Do what?” He asks, genuinely confused.

“This.” You give your hand a shake, the two of you rounding the corner to the hall where your room is.

He doesn’t stop walking until he reaches the door. He twists the knob and pulls it open, stepping in with you before turning to close it.

Swallowing hard, you try not to lose your breath again. There’s a pressure in your chest that you know is coming from the way he shut that door.

He turns, strutting towards you as he keeps hold of your hand. You take several steps back until your legs hit the edge of your bed forcing you to sit.

For a moment you think he might move over you, just like that image in your head. Instead he sits down beside you.

“Can I be honest with you about something?” He asks, pulling your hand over onto his lap.

“I hope so.” You relax, waiting patiently as he takes a deep breath.

“I haven’t seen Jane in almost three months.” He explains. “She’s been secluded in an installation in the middle of nowhere. In Wyoming? And I’ve been so busy here…this is the same struggle we always have. I cannot get away because of my own duties now much more formal and inescapable as King. And Jane’s work has always been the most important thing to her.

“I knew that when we agreed to try again but I was hoping that we might both take some time to prioritize our relationship. Jane was the first person I met when I was sent here. She was kind and patient. She was brilliant. Smartest person I’ve ever met. Smarter than Stark and Banner, don’t tell them I told you that.” He smiles. “But it’s that very brain that keeps her focus elsewhere. And I don’t begrudge her that passion. It’s one of the reasons I fell for her.

“But we don’t seem to be able to make it work.”

Hearing him praise her so much, love her so openly dries your throat and you can’t swallow to push past the lump there to speak. So, you say nothing.

“This,” Thor pulls your hand up a little, readjusting and holding it more securely. “This feels good.”

That helps.

“But you wish it was her?” You wonder.

Thor goes silent, averting his eyes to his hand around yours.

“Not anymore.” He sighs. “Until tonight, I would have said yes. I would have given anything for you to be Jane. To marry the woman I love? How could I not want that? It’s what I’ve always hoped for.”

You feel disappointment pull your body down, shoulders slumped, head falling so that you don’t have to look at him anymore.

You feel strong fingers take hold of your chin, gently tilting your head back until you can meet his electric blue eye.

“When I met you, I was surprised. I’d met with woman, after woman, after woman, after woman-”

“Alright, I get it.” You frown.

Thor stops to laugh but then nods, “Sorry. I only mean that every woman I met, all the other princesses and duchesses and ladies once related to direct royal families were kind but there was something calculating about the way they spoke. They were careful with the things they said and I didn’t feel like I was really getting to know them.”

“But with me?”

“With you, I-it was like recognizing someone that I’d known my whole life. You sat there, terrified but unable to keep from speaking your mind. You were honest about not wanting to marry for anything but love and I understood how you felt. I’d made up my mind not to choose you then. I didn’t want to take from you what was being taken from me, but I-the more I thought about marrying one of those women…I told myself I would let you find someone you could be with, even as my wife.

“We’d keep it secret. You could be with them and I would give you your privacy and let you live that life while protecting it for you.” He sighs. “Then you came here, and dinner brought me hope. I didn’t think that you could ever want to feel any other way for me than that disappointment I saw cross your face when I asked you to marry me and live your life with me without feeling loved.”

“Neither did I.” You confess, words coming out in a rush. “I hated you when I came here. I hated my family for being related to royalty. I hated that I was suddenly being asked to think about shit that I honestly, didn’t even care about! And then I met you and you were nice and confused and you asked me that stupid fucking question about my ideal marriage and I had no one else to picture so I pictured you and I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it.”

Thor smiles, “If I’m honest, that’s also what drew me to you. To be fair though, I didn’t ask any of the other women that question, but it was clear without them having to say so that they were after the prestige that comes with being a human Queen of Asgard.”

“But I know that you still love her.” You continue, ignoring the sweet smile he’s giving you because your mind will not stop fretting. “I know that you’d much rather have it be Jane so, I’m only saying that you don’t have to force yourself to hold my hand or show me affection when you don’t feel it.”

Thor sighs heavily, a huff as he takes hold of your head with both massive hands and pulls you towards him to meet his lips.

This time your surprise only lasts a second before you squeeze your eyes shut and pucker your lips back against his.

You can feel his body shake and you tear your eyes open, searching for what’s making him laugh but find him watching you.

He pulls back, thumbs caressing your cheeks.

“Relax. There’s no need to be nervous.” He whispers, deep. It settles in your chest cavity and you really like the sound of his voice.

“I’ve never kissed before.” You remind him. “I don’t know what I’m doing.”

“Kissing is easy.” Thor tells you. “Just pucker your lips,”

You do as he asks, self-conscious but eager to feel that kiss again.

“Then let me do the rest.” He pulls you back to him and your eyes shut as his lips meet yours.

It’s only a peck. A held one. Until Thor’s hands guide your head to the right as he tilts his to the left and suddenly his lips are overlapping your own. They’re hot, wet, and his breath tickles.

You jump as the tip of his tongue rolls along the seam of your mouth and without making the choice to do it, you open for him and he delves in slowly. Your body is suddenly humming, your mind overcome, and it all feels like a dream.

He inhales as he kisses you, tongue swirling around your own and you don’t know what to do so you reach out to grip the edge of his armor around his chest, hands fisted around the leather while he leads you in this dizzy dance.

He tilts your head the other way, breaking the kiss to take a breath giving you a second to gasp, but then he’s back on you, smothering your whimper of surprise with his lips.

As he presses against yours again, he dives in with more excitement, mouth open, tongue tasting.

You’re trembling, legs shaking with nerves as your hands hold on harder.

As he pulls away, lips smacking quietly, he caresses your cheeks again, letting you come down from your high.

He waits patiently until your eyes open, searching wildly to see what you might find in his.

All you find is his own searching, his own curiosity.

“Um…” You mumble, voice barely audible.

“If you let me in,” He says, his breath washing over your lips again making the past few minutes replay in vivid color. “I will open for you. I think we can do this right. I want to do this right. Will you do this with me?”

Your hands are shaking around his arm, still reeling from that kiss. Holy shit.

“I already said yes.” You point out.

“Say it again.” Thor pleads, scooting closer.

You’re almost completely pulled against his chest, hands squished between your bodies.

“This is happening so fast.” You gasp, confused but happy.

“It has to.” He nods. “I want it to.”

“But how do I know it’s real?” You wonder, and to answer you, Thor crushes you against his chest, head dipping until he meets your lips again.

“It’s real.” He says, tilting your head again, coaxing your mouth open.

You respond more eagerly this time, letting your tongue swirl around his to meet it in its frenzy. Your heart pounds with excitement. This is new and you can understand why people like it. You’ve wondered in passing what it would feel like when you saw it happen in films and shows, taking the books you’d read as gospel for what it feels like but they pale in comparison to the reality.

It’s a haze of pleasure. Foggy but the emotions sharp. It’s also possessive. It feels like yours now. This with Thor can never belong to anyone else. The very thought of it being felt by someone else breaks your heart and also boils your blood.

It makes you bolder, pulling him closer where you have hold of him.

“Let me in.” Thor whispers against your lips, giving you one small final peck. “It’s real for me, I swear to you.”

Can you trust him?

Everything he’s said so far makes sense. His disillusionment with his relationship with Jane is not fake. You were able to hear the sadness in his voice, the acceptance when he explained what was happening with her.

“If you can try to love me, I will try to love you.” He whispers, reaching down with his thumb to trace the shape of your lower lip.

You shut your eyes, seduced by his touch.

“You’re not playing fair,” You sigh. “This is coercion.”

Opening your eyes, you find Thor smiling, and you wonder if this is what he looks like when he likes someone. Is this him smitten?

You don’t think so.

You can’t wrap your mind around him being anything but tolerant of you. He’d been so vocal about loving Jane that you can’t see how only meeting with you twice might override that, even if they are currently struggling.

“I already told you yes! Brunnhilde was right about you.”

“And I want to hear you say it again. For good measure.” He traces the line of your jaw, cup your chin from beneath once he reaches it. “Look me in the eyes and tell me that you’ll try with me. We’ll do everything in our power and devote ourselves to each other. You’ll love me and I will love you.”

His words give your stomach flutters and the way he’s holding your chin makes it so that you can’t look away to clear your head.

So, you nod. “I will love you, Thor. We’ll make this work. As long as you never touch me unless you really want to. I don’t want you to force it. I want it to be real.”

Desperately, you want it. Now more than ever.

“Deal.” Thor says, then wraps one arm around your shoulders and meets your lips again.

~~~~~~~~~~

You wake with a gasp, reaching around for something though you don’t know what. No one had slept with you.

The bed is rightfully empty. As you sit up, you remember every little detail of last night. The words that were spoken, the declarations made, the kisses.

Oh, fuck, the kisses!

You lay back down, heart pounding while you urge yourself to think of every single shift of Thor’s lips against your own.

They’d been so hot, and wet once he’d French kissed you. His tongue had been thick and smooth in its movements. Skilled though you don’t know what you’d compare it to in order to know that for sure.

His arms had been huge and strangely safe. Wrapped up around you, he’d been a powerhouse of heat and strength, lulling you into a calm you’ve never felt before.

Reaching up to scratch your forehead, a small shine catches your eye, and you find your engagement ring, dazzling you with its beauty and the memory of Thor on one knee.

For a moment you’re almost sure that you’ll wake up and all of this will be a dream. A good dream that you had no idea you could ever have wanted.

Then a knock on your door makes you jump, and you sit up again.

Through the door marches Brunnhilde with the swagger of a soldier heading into battle, her clothes relaxed however, plain jeans, a red sweater, and heavy work boots.

“Good!” She smiles at you, “You’re awake! Estrid, bring in Her Highness’s breakfast and set aside one of the other dresses His Majesty bought for her.”

“I’m wearing another uncomfortable dress?” Your sorrow is clear and Brunnhilde smiles at you, her eyes flitting towards your ring. “So, that’s what they were up to.”

You follow her gaze and take a long look at your ring, “Who?”

“Loki and Thor.” Estrid moves past Brunnhilde, heading towards the desk at the far side of the room and places it there before she hurries to the armoire to sift through the dresses. “They’d disappeared a few days ago, went shopping or so they said. I didn’t believe them but clearly, they told me the truth. Just didn’t think they were shopping for a ring. It’s pretty.”

“It’s a lotus flower.” You tell her, throwing your blankets back and sliding to the edge of the bed. “He said he didn’t know that I liked flowers but was happy that I did since I’d like the ring more.”

“He said that?” She wonders, grabbing your robe from the vanity seat then offering it to you.

Taking it, you slip it on and tie it loosely around your waist. The smell of the food pulls you to the desk and you sit, immediately picking apart the eggs and toast.

“Mm.” You nod. “He did. He also said that he really wants to try. He’s willing to really give us a shot.”

Brunnhilde sits on the end of your bed, watching you eat with the space between her eyes puckered.

“Then he’s chosen to give her up finally.” Brunnhilde realizes, surprise painting her tone.

You look at her, intrigued by her own surprise.

“Is that weird?”

“No. Not weird, just unlikely. I never thought he’d really give up on Jane. They were so in love in the beginning when we first arrived. They were always together. Slowly they saw each other less and less, but his devotion never wavered.” She explains.

This doesn’t make you feel good. In fact, hearing about how deep their love was—is—unsettles you.

Fork still in your mouth, you watch her, mind racing.

“Eat up, Your Highness.” Brunnhilde says, rising. “Get dressed and meet me in the main hall. We have to go into town for your wedding dress fitting.”

As she moves for the door and Estrid crosses the room to your bed to lay out a stunning navy dress that looks way too formal for a dress fitting, you turn in your seat, hands grasping the back as you twist to follow her.

“Is Thor awake?”

“Yes.” Brunnhilde nods. “He left about half an hour ago for Wyoming to go see Jane, I assume to break things off with her.”

“Oh,” You shrink, fears you didn’t know you could have choking you.

What if he sees her and realizes he loves her too much to let her go? What if she changes her mind and decides that watching him marry someone else is unbearable? She decides to marry him and then he comes back to tell you that she’s agreed to be Queen and he no longer needs you?

Last night had only cemented your growing feelings for Thor and there is no way you can ever go back to before those kisses.

“He’ll be back tonight.” Brunnhilde assures you, but it only drives you crazier.

Why does he need until tonight?

Why so long? How many kisses will he give her? How many hugs will she take?

You shouldn’t begrudge him this goodbye. You should accept that with it will come with tears and affection that you already see as yours. You don’t want her to have it but it’s not yours yet. It’s intended for you, but right now Thor’s love is still hers.

This God of Thunder has absolutely wrecked you and it’s clear to you that you can never go back to your little home without him. You can never live a life where his arms are not around you.

You’re absolutely fucked.

[johnsamericano]

𝓓𝓪𝔂 10:

кιм נυиgωσσ

23 days of NCT masterlist.

taglist: @notbeforelong @silent-potato @whathamelon @unknown5tar @ajhdr @mrcarbonatedmilk @curieouscapt

warnings: unprotected sex (reader’s on the pill), y/n is kinda odd but in a good way, thigh riding (? Sort of.

“Please, Yuta. I need you.” You pleaded, falling onto your knees as you held onto his hand.

“Stop, people are watching.” He pulled you up, slightly vowing to the students staring at the little scene. “I’ve already told you I’m too busy with my own projects.”

“Yuta.” You whined, feeling like you were running out of options.

“I have a couple friends that might be willing to help you, but I can’t promise anything.”

As expected, all of them rejected you. Everyone was too caught up with their own work to care about yours. But one magnificent day, you found your muse. You met him at the cafeteria, he was simply eating pizza, yet he looked like a model.

He pretended not to acknowledge your piercing gaze, but as you started walking to his table he couldn't help but blush, playing anxiously with the pages of his textbook. Why was the goddess of the art department walking towards him?

“Hi, I'm y/n.” You casually sat in front of him, extending your hand towards him as if this wasn't the first time you'd seen him.

“I’m Jungwoo.” He was literally the epitome of cuteness, his pretty cheeks tinted pink and his brown locks casting shadows over his forehead.

“What’s your major?” You rested your chin over your palms, eyeing the book on the table.

“Mechanical engineering.” He surely didn't look like an engineer, but that sort of made him even more attractive.

“That's cool. So listen- wait, before that, can I grab a French fry? I'm starving.” He nodded, his eyebrows knitted together. “Thank you.”

You chewed on the savory fry, moaning at the flavor.

“So, what were you saying?”

“Oh, right!” You cleared your throat. “So for my final project, I have to paint a human portrait, but it turns out, none of my shitty friends wants to help me.” He couldn't help the small laugh escaping his lips. “Unbelievable, right? So I had no other choice but to hunt down the perfect muse by myself. I was about to give up just when I saw you, sitting here all by yourself like some mysterious rom-com guy.”

“Do you want me to be your muse?”

“Well since you're offering, I'd be more than happy to paint you.” He was about to object, but you resumed your nonstop chatting. “Of course, I’d pay for your time, not too much though, my part-time job doesn't pay that well.”

And that's pretty much how he ended up meeting you every Tuesday, sitting for two hours straight while you painted his gorgeous face. The mood was always cheerful with you around, always making small talk and provoking some smiles from him. He got to know you better during the month you spent together. Jungwoo realized you were the most authentic person he'd ever met, maybe that's why everyone on campus was so enamored by you. On the other hand, he was nothing like the shy boy you first met at the cafeteria. He was so bright, his laugh so pretty that it made you want to hear it every day.

“This is our last session.” You announced as soon as your canvas was fixed in place. “Time goes by so quickly, don't you think?”

“Yeah, sure.” You noticed the saddened expression on his face.

“What’s wrong, woo?” He loved the nickname you decided to give him on your first session, it made him feel closer to you.

“It’s just a pity that we won't get to see each other as often anymore.”

“Who says we won't?” You started moving the paintbrush over the canvas, adding the final details to your portrait.

“You still wanna hang out with me?”

“Of course I do! You're finally opening up to me, I won't risk losing the progress we've made.” His heart felt like it’d escape his chest any minute.

“I thought you were just using me for your project.” You gasped, approaching his seating place with the paintbrush still between your fingers.

“How dare you, Kim Jungwoo?” There was a dramatic pause before you painted the tip of his nose.

“You didn't.” You wiggled your eyebrows, running away from him as he stood up. “Get back here!”

“Stop!” You threatened him with your brush, back pressed against the wall. “I won't hesitate to paint you again.”

“Scary.” His chest was touching yours, faces barely centimeters away.

“Where’s the shy Jungwoo I met?”

“I don't know what you're talking about.” His knee positioned between your legs, pushing against your core. “What is it with that face?”

“Have you been deceiving me from the beginning?” You tiptoed, trying to hold back the small whine threatening to fall from your lips.

“No.” He raised his knee, this time, the imminent whine managing to get past your mouth. “I really was shy around you, but you're so easy to be with. I feel like I can be myself when I'm with you.”

“By yourself, you mean your horny self?” He started moving his limb back and forth, making sure to apply pressure on the right spot.

“I wasn't planning to do this, I didn't even know you wanted to see me after your project was done.” His finger pads danced over your neck, causing goosebumps over the sensitive skin.

“Well, then, are you gonna kiss me or should I take The first step?” He giggled before attaching his mouth to yours, a variety of new sensations growing at the bottom of your stomach. “God, I wish my project would've been related to nude portraits.”

“I would've definitely called the cops if you had asked me to be your nude model.”

“Mean.” Your face inched closer to his lips once again, slightly biting into his skin.

“Are you alright with this?” He lightened up the pressure on your heat, making sure you were both on the same page.

“Yes. But I don't know about making love in a classroom, though.”

“Making love?”

“I don't like the way ‘fucking’ sounds.” He chuckled. “Would you rather have me calling it sexual intercourse?”

“Stop talking before my dick gets soft.”

He lifted you with ease, sitting on the stool you usually used with you on his lap. His hands rubbed the sides of your thighs affectionately, slowly lifting the fabric of your purple dress to reveal your panties. He wasted no time on moving them to the side, quickly using his digits to make sure you were wet enough.

You helped him undo his jeans, clumsy hands struggling to get the zipper down.

“Allow me.”

“Be gentle, alright?” You placed your hands behind his head, toying with his brown locks as he aligned himself with you. He nodded. “I need verbal confirmation, woo.”

“I promise to be gentle, y/n.” You felt his tip prodding at your small hole, bracing yourself for the imminent pain. “Look at me.”

He started sliding inside you, your fingers accidentally tugging his hair. He didn't complain, though, too immersed in your face to even notice. You glanced at him, noticing how handsome he was from up close. His eyes looked like they carried the stars- no, the whole universe, you'd definitely have to paint them one day.

“Can I move?” You nodded, holding back the smile creeping up your lips as he started thrusting upwards. “Not even in my wildest dreams would I have imagined we'd end up like this.”

“Well, I'm glad you accepted to be my model.” You let out an open-mouthed moan, his dick hitting your G-spot.

“Pill?” You nodded, letting him do all the hard work while you enjoyed yourself. “Pretty.” He kissed your throat, holding your glutes to push himself further into you.

There were no words needed to know you were both incredibly close to release, just a few more thrusts had your pussy pulsating around him, his warm cum coating your walls.

“This is the best love-making session I've ever had.” You let your body fall against his, causing him to lose balance and almost fall down. “Sorry.”

“Well, we can always repeat this. Maybe I can actually be your nude model for your next masterpiece.”

“Who is this guy?” He chuckled, the corner of his eyes picking the image of the recently painted portrait. “Don’t look!”

But he was already admiring the product of your hard work, and it was amazing, to say the least. It was a picture of him smiling, sunlight coming in through the large window panel beside him and directly hitting his face.

“If you don't get an A, I'll write a complaint.”

“I like your way of thinking. I'm getting the feeling that you and I will be a power couple, only if you want that too, of course.”

“Let’s go out for dinner and I'll think about it.”

[wolvesandpetals]

Postscript. Part 3 of 3.

Loki x Sylvie "Our divorce never went through" Modern AU. Angst, Rated T.

Masterlist of my Sylki fanfics here.

---

Exactly three weeks later, Sylvie walks into his bar. Her eyes drift immediately to the counter, where she spots him bartending, and she gives him a little wave.

[[MORE]]

He waves back, dumbfounded, having no idea how to react when a scene from his dreams becomes reality. She makes her way through the crowd, and takes a seat on a stool in front of him. "One whiskey please."

"With water or something else?" He asks, trying his best to recollect himself and act professional.

She shrugs. "You already know how I like it."

He returns a moment later with her whiskey on the rocks, and she takes a long sip. The bar is busy, and he has to quickly turn his attention to the other customers.

She sits there quietly for the next two hours, watching him work, sipping her drinks, before the crowd thins and he can return his attention to her. "Hello again", she says with a grin.

"Hi." He answers with a low, nervous laugh. "How did you find this place?"

She shrugs. "You know I was always a good stalker."

"That, you were." He says with a grin, remembering the days in the college when she used to grab his phone and go through people's profiles to figure out little things about them. Blackmail Fodder, she used to call it. "So what brings you to my little corner?"

Sylvie knows that if it wasn't for the alcohol in her system from the three neat drinks she has downed, she wouldn't have the courage to say what she's about to say. "I wanted to see you again."

He feels his heart skip a beat. That treacherous thing never listens to logic when it comes to her. "Why?"

"Do I need a reason?" She asks, and orders another drink. He cuts her off, deciding she's drunk enough. He announces last call, intending to lock up early- he has already messed up at least a dozen drinks, and really, how can he focus when she's here?- and she clings to the stool, watching him close up.

He tugs on an ear nervously when it's just the two of them left inside. He has not been alone with her in an extremely long time, and he can feel his body starting to betray him, as he starts noticing how incredible she looks in her skin tight jeans and top, the outfit clearly a deliberate decision on her part. "Let me call you a cab."

"No." She protests immediately, struggling to stand up. He rushes to her side and offers her support, and she steadies herself with a hand on his shoulder. "I'm okay, I'm okay."

"Yes, clearly." He says sarcastically. He reaches for the phone in his pocket, then wonders if it's safe to leave her alone in a cab in her current state.

A very bad idea occurs to him then, one that every single one of his friends and family would scold him for if they knew. "Come with me." He urges her gently, and she follows without a question.

He takes her to his apartment upstairs, and leads her to his room, the one place where nobody except him is allowed- not his family, or friends, or the rare dates he brings over.

She stumbles inside, and the first thing she notices is the photo on his nightstand.

"Shit." He realises his mistake too late.

Sylvie stills for a moment, before walking over unsteadily and taking the photo in her hands. It's one from their honeymoon. They couldn't afford a fancy place, and had decided to take a staycation instead. It's a picture of them in their old apartment, on their old couch, sipping on coffee in their old mugs. She runs her fingers over the glass and the wooden frame, searching for the warmth that resonated in her heart during those days. "Do you still have the mugs?"

"I did, for a while... But they eventually broke." He tells her guiltily.

She can picture him smashing them into pieces out of rage, and she can picture him accidentally dropping them on the floor and being anguished over it. She's not sure which one actually happened.

"You didn't ask for anything in the divorce." He points out. Then a dark thought occurs to him. "Do you want something now?"

She blinks. "I-" she sits down on the bed, placing the photo frame back, but upside down in her inebriated state, and she lets out a bitter laugh. "I don't even want a divorce.'

His heart skips another beat, now on the verge of feeling an emotion that is dangerously close to hope. Seeing her on his bed is not helping things either. "You should get some rest."

He proceeds to leave, but she tugs at his hand and stops him. "Stay with me."

"Sylvie." He scolds. His heart beats ridiculously, and he can't get his hand free from her.

"Please?" She pouts, and his eyes automatically drift to her lips. They are soft and inviting, and he really should leave swiftly.

He steps closer to her, and places a small kiss on her forehead. "Sleep well."

He turns out the light and closes the door shut on his way out, and spends the rest of the night tossing and turning on the couch, images of Sylvie on his bed burning brightly in his head.

---

Sleep does come, around dawn, and when he wakes up it's already past eleven.

Sylvie is in the kitchen in last night's clothes, and she's making pancakes for lunch, like she always did. This is how it was, when she was his.

She gives him a small smile. "Morning."

"Mmm", he hums, picking up the newspaper from the counter, reading the headlines but registering nothing. Words seem to lose all their meaning when he's with her. He watches her go about, her movements very familiar but a distant memory at the same time. Finally, he asks. "You still haven't told me why you're here."

Sylvie tries her best to appear confident and unfazed, when inside, she feels herself shaking. "I... I felt that we left some things unsaid."

Loki winces. "Please don't tell me you want us to scream at each other some more."

She laughs, trying to ease some of the tension. "No, that's not what I mean, at all." She turns the stove off, and finally gives him her full attention. "I know I have no right to say this, and I know I have no right to ask this, or anything of you, and I know you will probably say no, and I understand, but..." She finishes her rambling, and takes in a deep breathe. "I've been kicking myself for the last three weeks for not saying this. I need to say it."

"Okay." He says quietly, ready to hear her out.

"How do you think Thor feels when he meets Sif now?"

"That's an unusual question to keep you occupied for three whole weeks." Loki notes. When he notices her waiting for an answer, he shrugs. They work together, they meet every day. It's not a big deal. "Indifferent, I suppose. That's how people feel when they move on."

"Precisely." She toys with a stray strand of fibre in her jeans. "Do you feel that way when you look at me?"

He really shouldn't answer that. He really shouldn't open himself up to a world of hurt again.

But foolishness is in his blood, and his blood has been rushing to unexpected places when she stands so close that he can smell her intoxicating perfume. He can't help himself. "No."

Her face brightens visibly, and a smile spreads across her lips, a shadow of the woman she was when they first met. "Neither do I. When I look at you, I realise how much I've missed you. How much I... I still..." She can't finish the sentence, but she doesn't need to.

His hands are clenched into a fist next to him, and he's breathing heavily. "You could have called."

"How could I?" She asks, her voice sad once again. "I walked out on you. How could I ever expect you to take me back?"

He closes his eyes, trying to push the bitterness down. "I kept calling you. For months. You never returned my calls. Not once."

"I couldn't." She places a hand on his arm, willing him to look at her. Her eyes mirror his- fearful, hopeful, and tear-stained all at once. "I couldn't go back. I wasn't ready, back then. I needed time... And I... I'm ready now."

He shakes his head. "Wow. This is unexpected."

She takes in a shaky breathe. "Loki, I know you don't owe me anything. But all these years, something has been missing from my life. I always knew, but I didn't know at the same time, if that makes any sense. When you called, and when I saw you, it finally clicked. I... I know what I've been missing. I know what I want. I really do want to try again."

"And what happens if you decide to give up again?" He wonders aloud. "Where does that leave me?"

She closes her eyes, letting the tears fall. "I've spent countless nights awake, picturing you sleeping next to some nameless woman, kicking myself for giving up. I was young, and stupid. But I'm not any of those things anymore. I will fight for us this time, I promise you." She reaches for his hand, and his grip is tight, almost painful, but he doesn't speak. "Say something, please." She begs after a while.

"I don't want to get hurt again." He says, but he tugs her closer, until his arms are wrapped tightly around her and his face is buried in her chest. His voice comes out muffled. "And for the record, I've missed you too."

Her hand finds its way into his hair, and she inhales his scent, the familiarity of it bringing her comfort. When you have love, you only need one other thing- timing. This this time around, she has a feeling they have got that right.

She doesn't know what else to say, isn't sure where to start. But she'll figure it out.

They will figure it out. Together.

"When you're young, you just run, but you come back to what you need."

(The end.)