#this became a character study oops

[rinedin]

coming to the realization that my first (blind) bg 3 playthrough was kinda. an evil run. like sure, i saved the tieflings! but then proceeded to "side" with the cult in act 2 and get nearly everyone killed and doom my companions to their worst endings or death.

and... playing Ranna was so *clenches fist* that i'm considering doing it all over again intentionally if we ever get a definitive edition. or just if the game is, y'know, ever stable.

[limarieb]

so high school

Pairing(s): Wanda Maximoff x fem!reader

Summary: Growing up, you could never understand how people your age were so romantically interested in other people. You begin to understand for the first time, however, when you encounter a certain Sokovian during your first semester of university.

Warnings: mentions of underage drinking, college!au, friends (?) to lovers, college au, making out, slight angst (but not really)

Word Count: 4.0k

Author's Note: everyone say thank you taylor swift for the spontaneous new fic! also this is lightly proofread, so edits might be made later oops

Main Masterlist | ao3 | Wattpad

...

Growing up, you never truly dated anyone. Sure, you had crushes on fictional characters in the media you consumed, and you allotted arguably too much time to admiring celebrities online; but, you never saw anyone in your personal life in such a light. At various hangouts and sleepovers over the years, you noticed just how much your friends discussed their love lives. Hushed whispers and sighs of the same phrase, “I really like them,” flooded your ears in the hallways at school. You had originally tried to join in on the conversations, not wanting to be excluded, but you simply couldn't engage in them wholeheartedly; eventually, the inability to relate began to upset you. You naturally boiled it down to something that must have been wrong with you — how could it possibly be normal to be like this when everyone else around you seemed to share these romantic sentiments?

Thankfully, you became completely preoccupied, both mentally and physically, by the prospect of university. By the time your junior year of high school had started, your love life — or lack thereof — no longer held too much importance to you. Instead of keeping whimsical love letters on your desk like others your age did, you opted to pile various books. From Camus to Aristotle, you discovered a deep fascination and affinity to the field of philosophy and the metaphysical discussions it posed. Therefore, when your senior year had arrived, you threw yourself head first into your studies, determined to build up your application in order to get into a top university.

After accepting your offer into one of the best philosophy programs in the nation, you anticipated your time at university, daydreaming about all of the things you would study and all of the people you would meet there.

But never could you have anticipated someone like Wanda Maximoff.

You had met her during one of your introductory courses in your first semester. Wanda was the type of person that, upon first glance, you would be scared. Not just because she was undeniably pretty, but she also had this stone cold exterior to her. Her lips were permanently etched into a slight frown, and she never really showed too much expression while she spoke during class. To put it simply, she intimidated you; so, you settled on admiring the brunette from afar (two seats up, one to the left — if you were to be specific).

Your plans changed, however, after the two of you got assigned to be partners for a class project. It was just a presentation, but it required you both to meet outside of class to work on it. You would be a liar if you said your heart didn't skip a beat at the thought of seeing Wanda outside of these four walls of your classroom, even if it was just to work on this assignment.

Seemingly unbothered by it all, she gave you her number for you to set up a date and time to meet. Her messages were all business, but they still made you feel like a dopey teenager every time her name showed up on your screen.

The day quickly came for you both to work on the presentation. Ultimately, you had settled on the two of you meeting in your dorm, which you made sure to deep clean before she came. You were not necessarily messy by any means, but the idea of Wanda, the most daunting person you could imagine, stepping into the safe space of your room made your blood run cold for some reason.

As Wanda knocked on your door, you rushed to open it. The two of you stood face to face for a moment, divided only by the doorframe. She still had her typical frown, but you noticed it shift into the slight uptick of a smirk. After a moment had passed, she finally broke the silence. "Are you gonna let me in, or...?" she asked, teasing you and your awkward nature.

Your cheeks flushed in embarrassment as you stepped aside for her to enter, "Oh, right... Sorry."

You led her to your side of the room, where she stood for a moment analyzing all of your possessions. You felt small as she did so, like a tiny insect under a bright, unsettling microscope.

She suddenly turned to face you, dropping her bag on the floor, "So, are we gonna work on this or not?"

That is how you found yourself on the floor, her laying on her back and you on your stomach. You had your computer in front of you, typing furiously as she provided you the words and ideas. You glanced over at her every now and then, especially if she was being awfully silent.

Most times, she would just be looking up at the ceiling in thought, her brown hair sprawled in random patterns underneath her; however, after a particularly long bought of silence, you looked over at her to find her gaze directly on you. You quickly returned your eyes to the screen of your computer and began typing whatever came to your mind. You hoped she did not notice the blush rise to your face.

She did.

She sighed, turning her body to lay completely facing you. "You're very quiet, you know," she stated, closely observing your reactions highlighted by the light of your screen.

Unsure of how to respond, you simply say, "So I've been told."

"Oh," she exclaimed, her smirk from earlier returns. "She has jokes."

You hum in agreement, "Just a few, unfortunately."

With the project now finished, the two of you abandoned it in favor of simply talking to each other. Never would you have guessed that Wanda could be this... warm. Unlike what you had witnessed in the classroom, she was very friendly and sarcastic in the privacy of your dorm.

You discovered a lot of information about the brunette during this conversation, such as how she loved coffee but only if its iced, how she never loved texting (preferring to call or talk in-person) but will do so if she must, how she immigrated with her twin brother from Sokovia when they were children. As she recounted her memories from Sokovia, you could hear the accent she once had poking through the surface; although, you did not point it out, afraid it was an insecurity of hers. Maybe you would tell her another time how nice it sounded, but for now, you bonded with her about collecting CDs and vinyl records from various artists.

While the two of you casually spoke, all you could think about was her — how pretty she was under the dimmed lighting of your dorm, how every joke she told was the epitome of humor, how much you wanted to stay in this moment with her. She was perfect.

Is this what people were talking about in high school?

As the night came to an inevitable end, you found yourself feeling quite sad, for you no longer had an excuse to hang out with Wanda. Though she had her number, you did not have the confidence to use it and ask if she wanted to meet up again.

You did not have to worry too much about it. As she packed her belongings back into her bag, swinging it over her shoulder, she spoke, "You know, you're pretty cool, Y/N."

You tried to hide the shock caused by her words, "Thank you, I think?"

She chuckled lowly, "My friends are having this thing at my place this weekend, if you wanted to join?"

Your head perked up, eyes blinking rapidly in shock. Unable to deny her offer, you nodded, "Yeah, sure... okay."

“Great,” she replied, walking toward your door. You followed behind her and reached around to open for her. She smiled at the gesture before speaking again, “I’ll text you later with the details and everything. See you in class.”

“Yeah, see you,” you returned. As you closed door behind her, you feel your mind finally catch up to reality: you, the stereotype of a nerd with very few friends, are going to hang out with Wanda and her friends.

You close your eyes, leaning your head onto the back of the door. “Oh, shit,” you whisper aloud into the open air. What have you just gotten yourself into?

Decoding your own thoughts and feelings about the Sokovian in the days leading up to your next class had revealed just how infatuated you had become; yet, you didn't even know how to act upon them. For years, you had only observed romantic behaviors from the outside looking in, whether it be through your friends' dating experiences or the words on a page from whichever sapphic novel you had picked to read. Now that you finally found yourself in the loop, what were you supposed to do?

Should you message her about whatever? No, that would come across as needy and overbearing.

What if you found her after class and ask to hang out again? No, that's even more overbearing than the text message.

The internal war waged on, resulting in your mind and body being paralyzed out of anxiety. For now, you have settled on simply waiting for her message regarding this weekend and presenting your assignment with her this week during class.

Days later, you walked into the class, practically shaking from your nerves about the presentation and the girl that you had to present with (who had just so happened to become your first teenage crush over the span of weeks).

You sat down in your unofficially assigned seat. Being so focused on the way your leg bounced repeatedly, you failed to notice the familiar brunette enter the classroom. Instead of sitting in her typical seat, however, she dropped her bag on the floor by the seat directly next to you.

Wanda instantly noted your nervous demeanor. While she had her own anxieties regarding the presentation and such, hers remained within her mind. She never showed such things outwardly, unless she was with someone with who she felt undeniably comfortable expressing those thoughts.

She slid into the seat and reached over to place her hand on your bouncing leg. Immediately, you noticed the feeling of someone's hand, breaking the chain of your anxious thoughts; upon glancing to your side, you discovered the culprit: Wanda.

"Hey," she started. "Everything is going to be fine, I promise."

Unable to find the words currently, you opted to remain silent, but you provide her with a uncertain nod in return. With a squeeze of her hand as a final attempt at reassurance, she placed her hand back within her lap and waited for the class to begin.

As always, Wanda was right. Your presentation went well; there were a few instances of stumbling words on your part, but otherwise it went great.

When the two of you returned to your seats, she leaned over and muttered under her breath for you to hear, "Told you so."

As you began to do your typical nighttime routine that evening, you heard your phone go off. Unsuspecting to who it was, you tapped on the screen under the assumption that it was just another email added to your overflowing inbox. You were wrong yet again.

Wanda: hey y/n !! are you still able to make it to the thing this weekend?? its gonna be on saturday at my place... lmk !!

You stared at the message for a moment before confirming you would still be in attendance, of course. Was it normal for your heart rate to speed up this much from mere words on a screen?

Saturday night rolled around quicker than you had anticipated. It was almost time to leave, yet you were currently standing still in your pajamas, surrounded by the miscellaneous clothing items you had thrown around. Ultimately, you had settled on the outfit you had first chosen, resulting in a bunch of unnecessary cleaning afterwards.

When you arrived to her place, you promptly knocked on the door. A moment passed before the door creaked open to reveal the Sokovian. Her outfit was considerably more casual than others you had seen her wear around campus. She stood in front of you, adorned with an oversized band tee and jeans; her fingers were still littered with her usual assortment of rings. However, the thing that surprised you the most was her lack of makeup. Not that she needed it, of course; in fact, it was quite the opposite. Tonight she seemed to have abandoned her typical heavy eyeliner and rose-colored shade of lipstick, choosing to only use her mascara and some chapstick.

"Sorry for the jumpscare," Wanda joked, her nose scrunched in amusement from your reaction. She continued to explain, "I know I'm dressed down compared to class. I just don't like putting in the effort to get ready sometimes, especially to just hang out with friends."

"No!" you exclaimed, quickly trying to backtrack the way she took your shocked expression. "No, you're fine. You're beautiful, actually, I just- I was just surprised to see you without the eyeliner and all."

Her cheeks became flushed at the compliment, but you seemed to miss it being overly concerned with your own response. She chuckled at your awkwardness, "Thanks. Oh, you can come in, by the way. I think everyone is here now."

She introduced you to each friend, after which you gave an insecure wave in return.

As the night progressed, you gradually loosened up. Whether it was time or the alcohol in your bloodstream, it frankly did not matter to you. You were not drunk by any means but definitely buzzed enough to not worry about every single decision you made. You even talked to one of Wanda's friends, Natasha, for awhile without the Sokovian present (given that she had left to use the restroom, but it still counts in your mind).

Suddenly, you were sat on the floor, playing childish party games with the others. It was fun, you couldn't lie... until it wasn't. You had already survived Truth or Dare, but someone (Tony) had suggested Spin the Bottle. With no romantic history, it was practically a given that you subsequently had not kissed anyone yet. For your first kiss to be during a stupid game of Spin the Bottle would be depressing; but, you didn't want to be the loser who said no to playing because the reason would be too humiliating to explain.

So, you elected to power through the hesitation, hoping the bottle just would not land on you.

At first, you were confident. The game was now three rounds in, and you remained lucky.

Eventually, the group had noted your lack of participation and had chosen to give you a "free spin." You silently prayed it would at least land on someone with whom you had become somewhat acquainted. With a shaky hand, you reached forward, spinning the emptied beer bottle. In the moment, it felt like the bottle would never stop spinning, but, once it did, it felt like time froze altogether.

It landed on Wanda.

Though you liked the brunette, you truly did not want your first kiss to be this way, especially with her.

She instantly noticed your apprehension. Turning to where Tony sat in the circle, she offered, "Hey, what if we did a hybrid of this and Seven Minutes in Heaven?"

Your eyes widened at the question, feeling unsure about all of this.

With a smirk on his face, Tony agreed, "I like the way you think, Maximoff. Alright, new girl, go follow Maximoff, and don't have too much fun while you're gone."

Before walking off with Wanda to the nearest bathroom, she briefly turned around to aim her middle finger at the boy. Though you were extremely overcome with anxiety about what was about to occur in the bathroom, you released a chuckle at her response.

She pulled you into the bathroom, flipping the lights on. As the door clicked shut, you faced her with your back against the wall.

"So, um, what are we supposed to do?" you asked.

"We don't have to do anything, Y/N," she replied, leaning against the bathroom counter. "I just noticed you weren't very comfortable with the idea of kissing me out there, so I improvised a little bit."

"Oh, okay," you breathed out. "Just for the record, it was not the idea of kissing you that made me uncomfortable. You- You're cool, so, it's fine."

Wanda tilted her head in curiosity, clearly not expecting that response. "Oh?" she questioned. "What was it then? Because I could clearly tell you were not very comfortable in there... I mean, you were visibly stiff."

"It's not you, I just..." you looked away, unable to meet her gaze.

"'It's not you, it's me'?" she joked, narrowing her eyes.

"Yes! No! I mean..." you exhaled. "It's not that the idea of kissing you makes me uncomfortable because, believe me, it very much doesn't. I just- I've never done this before."

The blood rushed to your cheeks during your admission. You felt utterly embarrassed, wishing you could just be back in your dorm in this moment.

"Y/N," she called softly. Despite every ounce of your body screaming at you to not do so, you returned your gaze to the Sokovian. "Do you want to kiss me?"

You couldn't read her tone. A part of you was nervous, maybe this was all some sick joke between her and her friends; yet, the other part of you was thrilled by the proposition alone.

"I wouldn't oppose," you muttered, automatically employing humor as your defense mechanism.

Wanda rolled her eyes at your antics, "Ok, then, let's play a new game." She looked down at her phone, checking the time. "We have less than four minutes in here."

Confused by the sudden change, you acquiesced in her request, "Okay?"

She stepped closer to you, standing a foot away.

Her tongue escaped her mouth, briefly licking her lips, before she proposed, "Are you going to marry, kiss, or kill me?"

Your eyes widened at the unexpected question, but you attempted to recover in order to return her playful energy, "Can I choose all three?"

Her eyebrow had risen, the infamous smirk forming on her lips. Slowly, she inched closer and closer to you until you could feel her breath on your skin. One hand found refuge on your hip, while the other she brought to the side of your face. She used her fingers to tuck a few loose strands of hair behind your ear then cradled your face. You licked your own lips and closed your eyes in anticipation.

Then, you felt it. Her lips brushed against yours, softly and slowly as if she were testing the waters. It was only a peck, but you swear your heart burst from the experience.

A moment passed before she pulled away enough for her to speak.

"Was that okay?" she inquired, ensuring you were still interested in this.

"More than," you affirmed.

She smiled, "Good, because we still have a few minutes left, and I intend to use them."

Without another second, she connected your lips once again. This time was different, however; there was a newfound fervor behind it. Her kisses started slow like the initial pace, gradually becoming quicker and deeper. Uncertain about what to exactly do, you continue to follow her lead. You felt her slide her tongue across your lips, asking for entrance. How could you ever deny her that? As her tongue began to clumsily caress with yours, a familiar feeling settled in the pit of your stomach, but you ignored it and kept kissing her.

A knock at the door pulled you both back into reality.

"Time's up, lovebirds," the voice called. "Clothes better be on and straightened when you leave."

Wanda chuckled at her friend's words and bit her lip. For the first time, you think you see her outwardly nervous. She swallowed as she shifted her gaze from your lips to meet your eyes, "Hey, I um- I hope this wasn't a one time thing."

You sighed in relief, "With you? Never."

She leaned forward once more, placing a final peck on your lips before grabbing your hand to return to the circle. Instead of your prior placements on the floor, in which she sat on the other end, Wanda refused to let go of your hand, instead pulling you to where she had been sitting.

Thankfully, no one mentioned how your cheeks were now incredibly plagued with a pink hue, allowing the game to continue onward.

After the group decided to finish playing games and turn on a movie, you followed Wanda to the couch in order to sit next to her. As soon as you found your place at the end of the sofa, she gravitated closer, leaning into your side. Her head rested on your shoulder as if you both had been close for years.

The movie American Pie started playing, all of her friends too engrossed in it to note how the two of you were cuddled up together. She picked her head up from its place on your shoulder. You didn't think too much of it, imagining her neck must have simply gotten uncomfortable in that position.

However, she turned her head to face you, taking in the sight of you and her friends all hanging out and watching a movie. Unable to resist herself any longer, she leaned in closer, her breath hitting your ear as she whispered to you, "I can't focus on the movie. All I can think about is kissing you right now."

You rotated your head to face her, biting your lip at her words. "Shush, your friends are here," you quietly argued, but you were secretly enjoying her antics. You peered over her shoulder, observing her friends who sat quietly with their attentions fully focused on the film.

Wanda pressed a soft kiss to the base of your neck prior to returning to its original position on your shoulder. You sighed at the feeling of her affection, wondering if it would linger forever.

Soon enough, the movie ended, and it was time to go home for the night. Her friends had left moments ago, but not without saying how you should "come around more often." Honestly, you were deeply excited that you received their approval, especially after the recent developments with Wanda.

You stayed behind for a little, attempting to garner as much alone time with Wanda as you could without being interrupted.

With the others now gone, you allowed Wanda to be more affectionate; or rather, you allowed her to give in to her desires and kiss you again, and again, and again.

After the final peck, you pulled away with the cheesiest smile and swollen lips. She loved seeing you this way: giddy and carefree.

"I really like you, Wanda," you proclaimed with a sigh, effectively breaking the comfortable silence between the two of you. "Like, a lot."

"I really like you, too," she replied. "You know, in case it got lost in translation with the kissing and everything."

You playfully slapped the side of her arm. "I'm serious," you started. "You make me feel so... high school."

She raised her brow, gesturing for you to continue.

You resumed, "I never felt like this, especially during high school. For a while, I actually thought something was wrong with me." Her lips formed a slight pout at your past conflict. "I was always so... jealous of others my age, having all of these teenage experiences with crushes and romance. Since I never did, I just assumed that it was my fault, that something was wrong with me. It was isolating; it felt like some inside joke that everyone else knew about except me. But, I'm happy I waited, truthfully, because now I can experience all of those high school feelings with you."

End.

[meloyellow236]

The TWST boys write letters to Yuu/The Prefect!

All of them except for Ortho+Checka are meant to be interpreted as romantic, but many can be interpreted as platonic as well. The reader is gender-neutral, but more feminine adjectives will be used when referring to them. Rollo's part is fairly suggestive. Characters will probably be a bit OOC.

Minor spoilers for their respective books in each section, but I try to keep it as spoiler-free as I can, except for who overbloted. If anyone has any questions or comments, please leave an ask or comment :)

NRC:

Heartslabyul:  

Riddle Rosehearts - 

My dearest rose, 

You are the loveliest person I have ever known. It is a miracle that you chose to get to know me, and even more so after I hurt you and your friends so deeply. I have made many mistakes, but you, my rose, look past them. I understand that you may choose to go home one day, but even so... 

Please just give me a moment of your time, a fraction of your thoughts, and I’ll be satisfied. Any inch of you that I can get, I want, even if you still believe me a tyrant. If it pleased you- No, if it only made you look my way, I would gladly break any rule of the queen’s or my mother’s. Understand that, my rose, and I am sure you’ll know what remains unsaid in this letter. 

Yours Truly, 

Riddle Rosehearts 

Trey Clover - 

Prefect, 

Hello. I wanted to thank you, first and foremost, for helping out Heartslabyul so much. You’ve been a very good influence on Ace and Duece, and it’s nice to see Cater open up to someone. Not to mention, Riddle’s been improving every day. I can’t even describe how much you’ve helped me... I just hope you know that I’ll always be grateful for what you’ve done. You’re welcome at Heartsabyul at any time. I have some donuts waiting for you if you want. 

From, 

Trey. 

Cater Diamond - 

Prefect, 

Heyyy! Whatcha doing right now? I’m sooooo happy that you came to NRC even if, like, all of the housewarden’s tried to ratio you. I do not subscribe to that, BTW. #NotCool, #Yikes-A-Tron. But,  like... On a more serious note, I am happy that I got to know you. It’s nice to have someone I can just be myself around. No drama, no expectations, just... Yeah. I know that you’re gonna leave at some point, and it’s almost a relief. You’re honest about it, which is something that many can’t say. 

Ugh, that was probs TMI! I’m not trying to trauma dump here, oops. There’s this cute cafe that opened up downtown, totally Magicam-worthy. You wanna meet up there sometime? 

- Cay-cay ���️  

Ace Trapolla - 

Prefect!! 

I need your help! So, Trein’s got this super hard test coming up on Friday- Like, Riddle-got-a-99-last-year level of hard. Yeah, that’s without the extra credit, but STILL! That’s failure to the tyrant! So, you’ve got to come over to Heartslabyul right now and help me study. Pleaseeeee!!!! I’ll owe you one! 

Oh, and don’t bring Grim. Deuce’s also got plans, there’s no need to ask him. You know, in case that matters to you. 

See ya, 

Ace 

Deuce Spade - 

Dear Prefect, 

Hello, how are you doing? Can you believe that it’s already been so long since we became friends? When we broke that chandelier, I was ready to never talk to you again... But now look at us! I’m on my way to becoming an honor student, and you’re working on finding your way home! I’m happy that you’re going to be able to go soon, I know how bad it feels not to be able to see your family (and probably friends in your case) after so long away, but also sad that you’ll be leaving us. 

I’ve got it! Let’s get your ghost camera, and we’ll take lots of photos of us all over campus! Two of each, so that way no matter what, both of us will always remember what we went through together. That sounds like a good idea, right? 

From, 

Duece 

Savanaclaw: 

Leona Kingscholar - 

Herbivore, 

Hey. You’re an idiot, you know that? You’re stupid and impulsive and don’t know when to quit or give up. That’s why you keep looking for me in the botanical gardens, right? You just don’t know when to stop. I’m sure that you’ll realize I’m not worth your effort soon enough. But until then, you have to come to see me more often. You’re my pillow, I don’t get good enough sleep if you’re not there. 

I’m in the usual place. Get over here as soon as possible. 

- Leona 

Ruggie Bucchi - 

Hiya, Prefect... 

I’ve been thinking, and you should let me come over to Ramshackle and fix the place up for you. No upfront cost, of course, but... I want the right to use the kitchen as I please, whenever I please. 

Why, you’re asking? Shishishi... Not telling. You’ve just got to trust me on this, I’ll make it worth your while. Then again, maybe I’ll just blow the kitchen up and you’ll have to live at Savanclaw again! That’d be fun, huh? 

If you don’t want me to, ya better give up your kitchen for a little while! I’ll get that microwave up and running again in no time.

- Ruggie 

Jack Howl - 

Dear Prefect, 

Hello, have you been feeling alright? I’ve noticed that Crowley isn’t the best provider of food. While on my morning runs, I’ve noticed Grim loudly talking about how he doesn’t have enough tuna. He does it pretty often. So, I’ve thought of a solution; You could try eating breakfast with me. I always get big portions, so you could have some. If you want, I could even try lifting you and carrying you places. I need to get better strength training anyway, and then you’ll have a buddy to get stronger with. It’s always better to have a friend with you. 

From, 

Jack 

Octavinelle: 

Azul Ashengrotto - 

My Pearl, 

Allow me to start this letter by saying that you are truly the crown jewel of my riches and that none can replace your beauty. You are the loveliest, most perfect little pearl, and I adore you with my whole heart. And yet, I cannot seem to convince myself that you feel the same. You say you do, and even if it is a crime to believe your lips hold lies, I cannot believe that to be true. If it was, why? Not just why you would tell me- A scheming man who has hurt you and your friends- that I hold the keys to your heart, but why you would choose what I hold underneath. I’m no good for you in terms of personality or how I look, and yet... You still hold me dear. And for that alone, I want to take you to the Coral Sea where my home lies, but not for a deal this time. Just... Because I want you and my mother in the same place. The two most important people to me meeting... That’s the best thing I can think of, to be honest. 

With Love, 

Azul Ashengrotto 

Jade Leech - 

Dearest Prefect, 

It has come to my attention that you haven’t had a chance to enjoy a proper mushroom dish since arriving in Twisted Wonderland. Now, that will not do for much longer. This letter should contain a box with three containers worth of mushroom dishes. You are to eat them and write back to me with what you thought of each of them. In return, I shall continue to provide you with free food. 

Do be warned, however, that they should all be eaten as fast as possible once you get them in case my brother chooses to throw them out. Also, so that way Grim cannot eat them. I would not recommend it for a cat.

Kind Regards, 

Jade Leech 

Floyd Leech - 

Shrimpy!!!!!! 

You and me. In the courtyard. Now. 

I’m going to squeeze you. 

🐬°˖𓍢✨໋ 🐋✧°.🐟⋆ 

🦐🥢🥢🥢🥢🧨 

I’ll see you later if you want me to or not. 

- Floyd <3333333 

Scarabia: 

Kalim Al-Asim - 

Hello!!!!

I love you!!! I love you, I love you, I love you! You’re the most wonderful person in this school, and you’ve done so much for both me and Jamil! It would be silly for me not to love you. I love how your hair looked in the wind when we went on that carpet ride, I love how you looked in the school’s uniform and how you looked when you tried on my dorms, and I love how you look no matter how you dress because you’re a beautiful person inside and out! I love you, and nothing can change that! (˶˃ ᵕ ˂˶) .ᐟ.ᐟ 

Hugs and kisses, 

Kalim Al-Asim 

P.S. Let’s go on another magic carpet ride soon, okay? I want to show you how pretty the moon looks when it’s full and you’re flying!

Jamil Viper - 

Dear Prefect,

Thank you for saving me when I overblotted. I am aware that what I did was wrong, and I apologize. I hope you can understand where I’m coming from. Either way, I feel as though I must do something more for you to show you that. Please come to Scarabia tonight. I will make you a special dinner if you do. Please, don’t tell Kalim. I want... something special, for the two of us this time. 

See you later, 

Jamil Viper

Pomefiore: 

Vil Schoenheit - 

My Dearest Potato, 

I regret to inform you that you have bewitched me. So much so that I willingly took on a role as a villain in this next movie. The villain falls in love with the hero’s love interest, and then, in a “shocking” turn of events, she chooses the villain to stand by. Of course, they’re both defeated, the hero gets with his childhood friend in some lesson of how love will always be waiting for you, whatever. But I still chose it, even if Neige plays the hero. 

I finally have a love interest, and they remind me of you. You could have stood by his side, you know. You should have. I poisoned him; That action speaks for itself. And yet, you decided to stay with me. Just like how that villain in this story gets the girl the hero originally wanted. 

I’ve won your heart as well, haven’t I? 

Sincerely, 

Vil Schoenheit 

Rook Hunt - 

Trickster, 

Bonjour, mon amour! I could not resist sending you another letter. You see my darling, I long for you like I long for the sunset on a hot day, for an oasis in a desert, for a hint of rain during the dry season, for the sun during the days when it pours. I'd imagine you'd taste like the rain as well, Trickster, and if given the chance, I'd taste again and again, in an attempt to satiate more than just my curiosity. 

Oh, Trickster, have you any idea how you’ve bewitched me? Why, just the sight of you is enough to send me spiraling, wishing for the smallest fraction of a chance that my affections are shared. How cruel is fate, to deny me the right to live and die within your arms? La petite mort would be heaven if it was with you, but death would truly come for me if it wasn’t. 

Je t'aime de tout mon coeur, 

Le Chasseur D'Armour 

Epel Felmeir - 

Prefect, 

I need some help. I found out that milk can make ya grow stronger, and also help you get taller. However, Vil has banned me from drinking it because I drank a carton in two days. Something about it raising my cholesterol or making me break out, I don’t care. So, I need to keep it at Ramshackle. That’s okay with you, right? Well, I sure hope it is, cause it’s getting in there if ya want it to or not! I’ll see ya soon, just make sure it’s in the fridge. I’ll get ya some of my family’s apple juice in return, it’ll be good. I reckon ya liked it last time. 

Epel 

Ignihyde: 

Idia Shroud - 

Prefect, 

Get to my room, and fast. There’s an event taking place, and I need a player two. This one requires another person to be in the same room, so I can’t ask any of my mutuals, and you’re the only one I trust with this. I can’t ask Ortho either, don’t ask why. 

Also I recently got pink lights in my room like those normies. That’s why everything looks kind of pink, it’s not my hair. Just in case you were wondering if I was embarrassed or whatever, you’re wrong. Just get over here ASAP, no time to waste. 

- Gloomurai 

Ortho Shroud - 

Hello, how are you? ( ˵ •̀ ᴗ •́˵) I am very happy to get a chance to talk with you. I have recently learned how to type out these little faces called ‘kaomoji’ that my big brother loves. Here are some of my favorites: 

♡✧( •⌄• ) 

ʕ•ᴥ•ʔ 

•ω• 

ᓚ₍ ^. .^₎ - This one is a cat! 

I would like to share more with you. Please come to Ignihyde so I can teach you how to get them on your phone as well. I can provide free updates while you’re here if needed. (✿˶◕‿◕˶人◕ᴗ◕✿) 

Sent To: PerfectPrefect@email.com 

Date: XX/XX/XXXX 

Return Email: orthoshroud2@email.com 

Diasomnia: 

Malleus Dracona - 

My Dearest Child Of Man, 

If Longing was painful, how much farther would I have to fall to crash and burn at your feet? The only answer I can give is that I already would have. I would build monuments in your name and would offer you the world and more if only you would say you loved me back. 

Could this be considered love? Could these feelings I hold deep within my heart, only to divulge in the darkest hours of the night with none but the stars and you to bear witness to my passion, be a form of love? Or is this simply my yearning, a longing for your heart, and wanting to have someone to call my own? 

The moment I laid eyes on you, I knew that you were the one I wanted next. How I wish I could scream your name from the rooftop, and raise my voice in song only to sing your praises. You have the face of an angel, and I am sure that you must have the mind of one as well, for even if the voices in your head remind you of nothing more than pain and suffering, they have still been able to mold you into the perfection you are today. But maybe you have devils as well, trying to smite you as you sleep, but just as I do all of your angels, I will pick them up and kiss their heads if they are a part of someone I care for so much. You are perfection, Child of Man, and this dragon wishes only to live with the crumbs of affection as my treasures. 

Yours Until The End Of Eternity, 

Prince Malleus Dracona Of Briar Valley Hornton 

Lilia Vanrouge - (Okay so for Lilia I could have SWORN that he calls the prefect ‘Beastie,’ but I can find that nowhere. Literally at all, no one seems to have used it for him, but I know that I’ve seen at least one person do it. I now think that it’s a headcanon thing but I’m not sure, if anyone knows who did this or if it’s canon, please tell me. I’ve been searching for far too long and I am in too deep.)

Beastie, 

Hello, my darling~! I have an easy-peasy little request for you, m’kay? You just need to travel over to Diasomnia, and then... I’ll make you a meal! Malleus has been out trying to find this one gargoyle on campus all day since I brought up wanting to learn a new recipe, and Sebek and Silver both ran off earlier to go help him. I don’t know how to tell them that the gargoyle they’re looking for definitely isn’t at Night Raven College. Raising kids is quite hard, especially when things like this come up... 

But you’ll be there for me, won’t you, Beastie? Pretty please? I’ll see you tonight if you want to, a little date if you feel up to it. Mwah! 

xoxo, 

Lilia 

Silver “Vanrouge” - 

Dear Prefect, 

I had the most wonderful dream. I think I did, at least. I can’t remember it, but I remember how familiar these eyes were, and I knew it was you as soon as I awoke. And I know it's true, that dreams are seldom what they seem... But if I know how you are, then I know what you'll do; You'll look at me the same way you did once upon inside my dreams. And tell me all about the animals that you found with me when I awoke. What I wouldn’t give to hear you tell me about every birdie that comes to me; I’d be willing to fall asleep in the forest every day if only to hear you cooing to the birds when I come to. I wonder if each little bird has someone to sing sweet things to, a little love melody like what I long to play for you one day. Well, either way, I’m growing sleepy now. The effects of my curse will soon be on me once more. I’ll see you either later today or tomorrow, depending on how long I’m asleep. If you need me or simply wish to keep me company, I’m currently resting in the woods. 

Best Wishes, 

Silver 

Sebek Zigvolt - 

HUMAN! 

I have something to show you; A new notebook to be filled, gifted to me by Master Lilia. He said that it is a ‘scrapbook’, which humans fill up with pictures and drawings of themselves and their friends. To fulfill the purpose of this illustrious gift, you must come to Diasomnia at once! You shall be the first of the first years to be added, along with Silver. Prepare enough of those photographs you have to fill half of the book. The other shall be dedicated to Wakasama! 

Sincerely, 

Sebek Zigvolt  

RSA+NBC: 

Che’nya - 

Prefect... 

When are you going to visit RSA, huh? It would be purrr-fect to get a chance to see you again. You’re quite the pretty purr-son, dontcha think? Or maybe I’ll just drop by at the next unbirthday party... Riddle and Trey would like that, but I wonder what you’d think. Hum-hum-hummm... 

Kitty Kisses, 

Artemiy Artemiyevich Pinker <3 

Neige Leblanche - (The Reader is called NRC’s ‘princess’ in this one, but not called a woman or anything)

My Dearest, 

Hello! How are you fairing? Have you been doing okay since the VDC? I know that you looked pretty shaken up back then, so I wanted to make sure that you’ve been okay. After all, you’re NRC’s princess! As far as I can tell, anyway. I’m happy that there’s someone around Vil like you, he always looked like he needed a good cheering up. And you’re like a fairytale! Such pretty hair and eyes and skin; Oh, I’d ride away with you on a white horse if I could! 

Ah, that’s odd to say to someone I don’t know very well, isn’t it? I’m sorry, that’s my fault. You still want to be friends, right? If you do, please come visit me at some point. Or, just send me a letter back. I’ll make sure that you get priority over any fan letter. 

Love, 

Neige Leblanche 

Rollo Flamme - (Kinda sugesstive) 

Mon Amour, 

There are times I wish I could tear you down and take you apart only to sew you back together. Rip you to shreds only to tenderly put each piece back where it should be. Drink from you until there's nothing left and then fill you up with all of the love I could offer, make you mine and mine alone. Those greedy thoughts shouldn't even make their way onto this paper, shouldn’t even be in my head, and yet here I am, penning them in a letter never to be sent. 

I truly wish you never see these letters, for I'd hate to be the reason your face turns to disgust, even if for a moment. Of course, I don't regret writing them. You will never read them, after all, but I believe I should get my thoughts out like this rather than bottle them up, lest I do something stupid and let you see them. I pray that you will never have to see me in a state like how I write to you, over my bedside table in the dead of night, eyes barely open and breath still recovering from dreams of a sweeter pleasure than I should sully your name with. 

I mention those dreams I have of you a lot, it seems, although I mean it in the most innocent way possible. Ever since I met you, you've infested my dreams and wormed your way into my heart like a parasite I can't rid myself of. My dreams are all of the sweet moments I have longed for and never gotten. I only have eyes for you, after all, and a saint may never lie with a sinner, lest they become one as well. 

Bonus: 

Checka Kingscholar - 

To Perfect, 

Hello! I am Checka Kingscholar. I am fiv years old. I like my unca. I like my dad and I love my mom. I love you! Goodbye! •ᴗ•

[sundrop-writes]

are you currently open to doing reactions for teen wolf characters? cause if you are i’d love to see how you think stiles & allison would react to seeing a fem reader naked by accident hehe

yeah, as it says in my Rules, I love doing reactions and MLTs (especially cause they're fun, shorter fics that I can write quickly in order to get to know the characters better. they're a lot of fun)

so here we go

Requests for Teen Wolf are OPEN!!! Please read the rules first, though <3 also vote in this poll if you like Teen Wolf fics

How would Stiles Stilinski and Allison Argent react to seeing you naked by accident?

Warnings: mentions of sex/arousal/sexual desire (characters wanting to fuck the reader after seeing them naked), sexual themes but no explicit smut, reader is described as having breasts/is called a 'girl', mentions of Scott/Allison, mentions of Jackson/Reader (background, unimportant), mentions of the reader taking nudes/nude pictures, Allison's section is way longer than Stiles's oops (but that's because I've never written for her before and I got excited).

Stiles would be coming to visit you on a random Saturday - something that he did often. And after letting himself in with his spare key and bounding up the stairs to your room, he would hear music coming from your room and think nothing of simply letting himself in. He could imagine that you were cutely dancing in your pajamas, using your hairbrush as a microphone - something that he would tease you for, but secretly loved.

He hadn't even thought to knock. The two of you were so close - best friends since you were in diapers, having grown up together, gone through everything together.

So when he opened the door and found you standing at the foot of your bed, naked, rubbing lotion over your skin almost sensually - a towel in a rumple at your feet as you had clearly just gotten out of the shower - in seconds, it changed his entire perspective of you. Seeing your gorgeous breasts, the roundness of your thighs, the perfect swell of your ass, the softness of your stomach - it put nothing but downright filthy images in his mind. And in seconds, you went from being his dorky childhood friend to a woman he now desperately wanted to fuck.

He didn't get to stand there for long and stare before you noticed him, but the image of you so beautifully bared was easily seared into his mind forever.

"Stiles?!" You screamed when you noticed him in the doorway, and he felt so terribly caught.

His instinct was to turn and run, but he was dumb from the amount of blood pooling in his cock. He tripped over his own feet and rammed headfirst into the doorway - hard. He became dizzy from the hit fell to the floor within seconds, groaning loudly in pain (and embarrassment) as he clutched the bruise blooming on his forehead.

You rushed to pick up your towel to cover yourself, and then rushed to see if he was okay.

"Oh my god, Stiles." You sighed, kneeling down by his side. "What is wrong with you?"

Well, he could add 'intense sexual desire for his best friend' to that list now.

Allison loved having you over at her place. Between the chaos of dating and not-dating someone that her family had vowed to kill, and being trained by that family to kill others of his kind in the most traumatic and tiring way possible - you were a breath of fresh air in her life. You were the soothing relaxation she needed among the chaos.

She invited you over as often as possible because of this. Whether it was dinner with her family, studying, sleepovers where the two of you talked all night and ate junk food - you were over at her house often. Her family knew that the two of you were the best of friends, and they loved you because you were a smart, respectable, normal girl.

On this night, the two of you were having a regular study session. Nothing special - just sitting on her bed going over some homework. More so, enjoying each other's company in quiet while you worked individually.

"Do you have the notes that Mr. Hoffman wrote down today?" Allison asked you, looking up from her book. "I know he didn't want us to do all the problems, but I can't remember which numbers he wrote on the board."

"I took a picture of it." You told her, unlocking your phone and passing it to her. "Just flip through my camera roll, you'll find it. I gotta pee."

You slid off the bed and left her room for the bathroom, and she opened your camera roll looking for the picture of the blackboard that you had taken. She grinned when she saw that the first picture was of a random squirrel that you had seen outside during lunch. Very you.

Then - a picture of Stiles making an ugly face. Of course. He had stolen your phone during lunch. Then - Scott and Stiles. More Scott and Stiles. Then, pictures of your outfit that you had taken in the bathroom that morning at school. Then - wait, what?

A picture of you naked.

Allison's insides tensed.

It was a gorgeous picture of you, and though she felt a twinge of guilt over the fact that she knew she wasn't supposed to see it, she couldn't stop staring. You were laying on your bed, the morning sun pouring in through the curtains - it had probably been taken before school that morning. The picture showed everything from your collar bones to the tops of your thighs, your arm holding the camera high up to get a good angle of your amazing body.

Your breasts relaxed and your nipples peaked (it had to be from you teasing them up for the picture and not from the cold air, your room was always soft and cozy), your stomach so wonderfully soft, your pussy on display - showing off the dusting of pubic hair that you had their. Your knees pressed together, presenting your thighs in a soft, alluring position.

It made Allison's throat dry.

Before she could even think to keep looking for what she had actually needed, you came back into the room.

"Hey," You grinned at her as you moved to sit by her feet at the end of the bed. "You find it."

One thing that Allison knew by now - lying was useless and something she absolutely hated. You were one person in her life that she upheld honesty with as her greatest treasure.

"No." She said, taking a moment to re-moisten her mouth with saliva before she continued. "But - I found this."

She turned the phone screen toward you and your jaw dropped slightly before snapping shut again with a harsh sound.

"Oh." You breathed out. "That." You paused for a moment. "I - uh. Sorry you had to see that."

You took back your phone from her and locked it, staring at the floor with shame.

"I'm not." Allison said quickly. "You - you look beautiful."

It would be a few days before you fully unpacked what she had meant by this. Even Allison herself still hadn't fully acknowledged that she felt anything more than friendship for you.

You nodded. "Thank you." You took another moment. "I - just - I'm sorry it's awkward."

Allison nodded. She wasn't sure why she didn't feel as awkward as you did.

"Well - who was it for?" She couldn't help but to wonder.

She could only assume that you had taken the picture with the intention to send it to someone.

"Um, well... it was for Jackson." You told her.

The two of you had been texting a lot more frequently since he had broken up with Lydia.

Allison frowned.

"You are way too good for him." She insisted.

And that was the comment that stuck in your mind - that truly got you thinking about what your relationship with Allison meant.

[wannaeatramyeon]

Hellloooo,

May I request viral hit characters reacting to their s/o wearing something naughty? If not naughty, just wearing their clothes instead?

-Thank you <3 ‼️

Hi anon! Wew I'm so sorry. We are nearing the 3 month mark. How's your V Hit interest? Fading? 😅 Thanks for requesting and the thank you and heart is SO cute. Hmm. Let's go for wearing their clothes...All generally quite innocent.

HTF Boys reacting to you wearing their clothes: Munseong, Wangguk, Yeonwoo, Seongjun, Taehoon

G/N but assumes you're more petite than they are.

Kim Munseong

You have a habit of taking his tracksuit jacket.

At first he never used to think much of it. He had a two track mind: one on Bomi, the other on MMA.

And then Bomi became spoken for, and the track became singular.

You still continued to take his jackets. Talking, laughing along with him, as natural as anything. Because it was. He's grown used to it.

So much so, that whenever he sees you without his clothes on, he feels a pang. There's something missing that he can't quite put his finger on.

He watches you. Wondering why you look... off.

Then it hits him. You're not wearing his jacket.

In addition, his jackets just smell like him. Of deodorant and aftershave. Without your scent and his mingled together.

And here comes a double KO. His feelings, the second realisation, hits him full force too.

Han Wangguk

He handed over his hoodie when you said you were cold.

Maybe that wasn't the best idea (or perhaps it was) because the sight of you in his clothes. Chin tucked in at the collar, sleeves hanging over your hands, length reaching down to the top of your bare thighs.

This is really something else.

Wangguk blushes furiously. Thinks about you in his hoodie and nothing else. Chastises himself for his lewd thoughts but shit, he can't help it.

It's just so fucking sexy.

Oops - you've broken him.

Or... that's what he thought. It's actually much worse when he gets the hoodie back from you.

Your scent, your perfume. He can't get enough.

And if he sleeps with it, so he can be reminded of you? Well that's only between him and his hoodie.

Ji Yeonwoo

You put on Yeonwoo's karate gi as a joke.

And maybe it was a little disrespectful the way you just casually wrapped it around you. You thought maybe Yeonwoo was pissed when he noticed. His mouth was hanging in shock and body frozen.

"Sorry," you grimace, sheepishly taking it off.

"No! Don't!" Yeonwoo clears his throat, cheeks dusting with pink, "...No it's fine. You can wear it."

Seeing you in his gi is combining his two absolute favourite things. It's a crossover he wasn't expecting.

His thoughts are innocent enough, it's more the idea of being able to have everything he wanted. Kyokushin karate and also you.

Yeonwoo stammers and blushes, not able to concentrate on anything else for the rest of the day. Not on his studies, not even on his training.

Because the idea of you by his side, joining him, is everything.

Baek Seongjun

You like to wear his haori casually around the apartment (when it's clean, of course).

It's something easy to grab and slip on. A cover up for when you're feeling like you need a light extra layer.

Especially for the morning after you've spent a night entangled in bed together.

The first time Seongjun sees you in his haori and little else, stepping into the kitchen for breakfast he has prepared-

His heart stops and stutters. Pauses mid movement to fully take in the sight of you in his haori, the traditional japanese attire, and little else.

Breakfast is forgotten about as he strides towards you, hands wandering over your body and lips on your skin in an instant.

Maybe he can convince you to wear a kimono next.

Seong Taehoon

You stole his jacket.

Taehoon should stop spoiling you so much. He only has himself to blame. He's very attached to his green bomber. It's his trademark.

"Hands off! Get your own-"

His eyes adjust and he fully takes in the sight. Oh.

Taehoon hates hates people touching what is his (only child syndrome huh) but you in his jacket - ok maybe that he could learn to share.

The way it drapes over you, large and oversized. Your hand tucked into the sleeves... It's fucking cute, ok. His stomach does little somersaults at the view. Shit. He doesn't even care how cringe he sounds, he loves it.

Like a megaphone telling everyone to back off, you're spoken for.

Still. Taehoon is Taehoon and he's a little shit to the end. He'll make you plead and beg a little for his jacket. Whine a bit about how cold you are or how comfortable it is.

He'll throw it at your head every time but preens when you slip it on.

And... bonus: Wedding bands

Taehoon never gave it much of a thought, never gave marriage much of a thought. If you wanted to, sure that's cool with him. No? That's fine too.

Once married though, there's something about wedding bands that he absolutely loves. The matching set, two halves of a whole.

He finds himself playing with yours a lot. Taking your hand in his. Spinning, touching it on your finger.

And when he can't play with it, he looks at it. Yours or his. It seems to always catch the light just right and he can't look away.

Quite simply, it makes him happy.

[centipedelightning]

Hobbies!

headcanons about what kind of hobbies i think some of the skeles have. this post includes undertale and underfell sans and papyrus. i want to smooch these guys so bad y’all.

| Undertale & Underfell || fluff |

Hobbies: you are here | pt. 2 | pt. 3 | pt. 4

words: 1045

Sans

Canonically it’s trombone, and he knows how to sew

He started learning how to sew pretty young (out of necessity) so he’s really good now. He made papyrus’s costume after all! He’s actually a pretty skilled seamstress and super super good at making barely visible, perfectly blended alterations to clothing. He’d be better at mending if he cared to, but he isn’t bad.

The trombone was probably in whatever the underground equivalent of his second year of high school.

Yes he was and still is a band kid sorry 🤷🏻‍♀️

Other than in game canon, I see him doing origami. He found a box set of books (beginner, intermediate, and advanced) at the dump in great condition and decided to take it up.

He used to make a bunch of little characters and animals for babybones Papyrus to play with.

He makes so many paper stars. Like two of those really big mason jar fulls with a third actively being filled.

It became a bit of a coping mechanism to be able to pick up scraps of paper and make little things quickly and mindlessly. Not to mention the chance to make a wish

More than once he may or may not have used torn slips of blueprints and schematics for projects…. Oops

Papyrus

He’s so babygirl girliepop

He loves puzzles but that’s already covered by playing the game and this is not written to rehash the canon

So instead I will tell you about the million and one crafts he does (no I won't)

He so so crafty and creative so technically he does a lot of different things, but I see him loving making decor items. Stuff like rock painting and recycled garden decor. Yk those bottle cap flowers for your garden? Stuff like that.

His front garden is so cute because of all the stuff he put in it.

The rocks he paints are just random local forest and river stones. The paints are all natural and watershed safe. Ecological awareness queen.

He mostly does those dot patterns when and places them all around the garden and pathways. Sometimes he’ll do little faces or bugs to mix it up

ZUMBA omg

He’s such a Zumba girl you have no clue. He loves the fun danciness of it while still being a good workout. He’s very 90s fashion-wise so you know he’s in those brightly colored body suits.

He lovesss putting together and painting model figures. Kinda like dnd minis but I see him being more into put it together yourself robot sets (like Gundams or whatever they’re called)

Y’all he’s so down bad for sexy robots you can’t tell me he wouldn’t love Gundams. Just look at how he acts towards his action figures AND METTATON HIMSELF. He’s so tragic and so real tbh.

Red

He’s my artsy babygirl.

If you’ve read my headcanon post about him you’ll know.

He’s not very good, but he does do landscape paintings every now and then. Those times are more when he randomly decides to take a walk around a local park or something. He’s more interested in studying other artists’ work than doing it himself.

Onto an actual hobby: Whittling!

He discovered the hobby kinda on his own in the underground. Whenever he was forced to show up to his sentry station and couldn’t find a way to run off, he’d pick up sticks and cut them down to nothing with a pocket knife. Over time he started carving little shapes and figures into the sticks. He’d usually just make simple bone attacks or snow poffs. Sometimes if he found a bigger branch, he’d make replicas of some of the other royal guards or random machines.

Topside he makes so many animals. Like so many. His favorite things to make are birds. He has so many different types of whittled birds all over his room. There’s boxes in his closet overflowing with finished and half finished bird carvings. They’re also in the windows and you can see them walking past their house.

If he’s feeling fancy he’ll pull out the woodstain and give them a little depth to make the species more obvious.

He makes other animals too of course, but they’re usually gifts. He makes a bunch of forest animals for Frisk (their favorites are rabbits and deer).

He made an MTT carving Once when Edge was going through it and was increasingly stressed for like a month straight. Red is a bit of a hater so jacking anything MTT was like pulling teeth. You gotta do what you gotta do for the happiness of your siblings I'm afraid.

A lot of people see him working as a mechanic and I agree, but that’s his career and jobs can’t be hobbies so I’m not gonna go into depth.

Edge

Ok consider for a second: (silk) flower arranging

For one, I headcanon him working as a professional makeup artist on the surface so its not completely left field,

For two, I’m right and you know it.

He does it as casually as you can imagine Edge being casual. Mostly dining table centerpieces and hallways vases. He does silk flowers for places he doesn’t check as often (like hallways) but since he’s classy he dumps the extra G for the fancy fake flowers.

The real flowers are in foyers and on tables. He even takes the occasional flower arranging class in different disciplines to be able to have the skill to arrange any flower in any style.

Edge is such a granny so I think weaving would be reasonable too.

Originally he started out darning his clothes so they would last a few more months, but since he got topside he does a lot of more artsy woven pieces on those small lap sized looms.

He’s not too picky about the actual design; they’re usually classy and fancy and a bit pretentious like him but he’s not actually all that picky about it. He mostly makes scarves and wall hangs that he sells at the local farmers market and craft fairs.

All his friends do have specially designed and stunningly made scarves that he spent hours laboring away on. He gets to critical levels of happiness when he sees them wearing his hard work.

[plutopitou]

◇ Psychological words of love

yandere!bakugou katsuki x female reader

genre: dark content, angst

Katsuki loves you very much. With every fight ending with a questioning of his character, he’ll do anything he can for you to realize just how much you need him- even if it meant having to break you down for you to see it. | 18+ MDNI

word count: 7.4k

warnings: mention of suislide (nothing else), dark themes/romance, yandere bakugou, he’s emotionally manipulative and controlling oops, also very calculated, reader has anxiety, not for the lighthearted, read with caution!

My longest fic yet! He’s so vengeful with this one haha hope you all enjoy I had fun writing it ʕ⁎̯͡⁎ʔ༄

“What did I do?”

You’re not sure why that was the first question to slip out of your mouth when your boyfriend says he is breaking up with you.

He is smart, knowing to speak his words very carefully. He would never say “I think we should break up” as that would offer some sort of negotiation.

There is no negotiation with him, there never was when you thought about it.

Katsuki’s steel gaze almost feels emotionless, like running into a brick wall that appeared out of no where. His stance is casual, a couple feet away yet suddenly it felt like he was so far and hard to reach out to. You assume he’s mad at you again, but his face looks far from it. He isn’t looking at you like you would a bratty child, he’s looking at you like you would study a century old work of art. He looks at you like an object.

Insecurity floods through your body, you felt like you were bare naked in public, his keen red eyes observing you carefully for your next move.

A sharp cool sensation runs down your back realizing the gravity of the situation.

You’re going to be alone.

“This is what you wanted, wasn’t it?” Katsuki looks at you accusingly. He doesn’t look to be hurt at all from his sudden statement, glancing at you like he’s doing you a favor. “Why do you look so scared now?”

Why are you so scared, again?

He’s right. This is what you wanted. The amount of times you fought tooth and nail to get away from him. You couldn’t count on both hands how hoarse your voice became the night after your screaming match with him to let you have some control over your own life.

The door to his apartment was always open, so why didn’t you just leave? He’s giving you an out. But it feels so sudden.

You sit up straight in your bed, putting the laptop Katsuki gifted in front of you, your game of Mahjong unfinished. You unknowingly scratch the itch on your wrist and never stop, anxiety riddling through your body. His strong gaze never falters, crossed arm leaning against the doorframe waiting for a response.

In a split second you had to stop yourself from apologizing. What did you have to apologize for? You felt he had deserved every piece of back talk you gave him, every time he pinned you against furniture, lips so close to yours but never giving you the kiss you desired.

Instead he spit insults, trying to hold up a mirror to your beautiful face knowing as much as you yell your supposed hatred for him he knows in his soul what you’ll give up for him and need him.

Now he’s got to make sure you saw your own desperation as well.

You close the laptop, never making eye contact with him. “Well, I don’t-“ The air feels so thick. “What do I do?” You whsiper.

Katsuki shrugs at your confusion, giving a short nod at your closet full of clothes, clothes he bought you.

“I’ll have someone I know get you an apartment. I’ll drop you and your stuff off there after work Friday. Be ready, ‘lright?” Katsuki turns to make his leave, closing the door softly.

There was no real conversation. He was cut-throat, leaving no room for explanation for either of you. Now you sit there, your spare bedroom filled with a warm late afternoon glow you desperately want to get out of.

The door clicks.

And you still had more to say.

Six months ago..

Running into the 15th floor lobby, your hair is nearly soaking and drips of water expose your trail to your reception desk.

Small equipment tumbles over when you settle in, moving around fallen objects and putting away papers. The corner of your eye you see your coworker and friend Hina paving her way near with a white office box containing clutter.

She has been the only familiar face after being at Dynamight’s agency for close to nine months. Both starting at around the same time. You saw eachother every day, finding solace in one another for being the newbies- going to lunch together, hanging out after work. In a setting that is riddled with kiss-ass employees, having a genuine companion kept you confident.

She timidly walks up a sad smile of remorse on her face. “Sorry I’m a bit late, Hina- I woke up so late and forgot my umbrella.”

She gives a little laugh, putting the box on your desk and takes off her dark gray cardigan, handing it over for you to wear. You take it with a small thank you, tossing it on to cover your damp clothing.

Hina makes minimal eye contact with you, darting her eyes around your body with pink cheeks. “So I- I just came back from Dynamight’s office and he wants to see you..”

Your heart mildly jumps at his name, however don’t think of it to be any less normal. While listening you’re still rushing to get your desk in order for the rest of the day, waiting for your desktop to turn on as you brush your hair to look presentable again. “Oh alright, that’s fine. I’ll be there in like five or ten minutes- here, I’ll send a message over-“

“No.. he said he wants to see you immediately. He looked really agitated and has something urgent get to tell you.” You look up confused.

Hina doesn’t know much about the things happening between you and Katsuki. As much as you trusted her, an illicit workplace relationship between an employee and her boss would travel like wildfire- no matter how quiet you tried to be with it.

Hina can be naive at times, she may work harder to catch up to others, but she is not stupid. Hina is quiet but quiet people are the most observant, she always suspected something but never confronted it.

You set the hairbrush down, a sudden weight settling on your chest, you nod at the box she held earlier. “What is that stuff?”

“I just found out today..” Hina looks at me with a regretful face. “They’re switching our positions, you’re getting demoted.”

There were two paths you weren’t sure you wanted to take. Rational or irrational.

Could someone blame you for feeling betrayed? Even if it was her final say if she wanted to accept the position, it had to be her? You wondered what you had done to be demoted so suddenly. You work as hard as you can, you even stay late at times when you don’t have to just so the next morning can run smoothly for everyone else. What could you have possibly done?

You stand up tall, matching Hina’s height. Light drops of water still drip down your damp hair, everything being a complete stupid mess and it wasn’t even 9am yet.

She feels bad for you.

“Was it your choice to accept this position?” You ask lowly, her guilty eyes finally made sense.

“Please just listen to me-“

You didn’t want to her quick explanations to excuse herself. You liked at least trying to work hard for what you got, all in hopes of a better position. But now there is no promotion- just a demotion. And to your closest friend is who you lost it to.

She stands there erratic and brows pulled together, explaining her choices- how hard it was on her to fuck you over. She repeats over and over how sorry she is when she had to think about how she wanted to push you off your pedestal ten minutes ago.

Your hair is wet and you haven’t eaten- Hina coming up to you explaining this when the sun has barely come up feels similar to a fly buzzing in your face.

You tilt your head with a forced laugh, walking around your desk until a mere couple inches away from her face. “You’re fucking unbelievable.” Hina’s skin was practically melting from the anger that pulsed off your body. There was nothing you wanted more than to cause an even bigger scene, practically everything you been working up towards tumbling down from your own friend.

The room was more suppressed than it was a moment ago. Glancing behind her head, multiple worried eyes watch the scene play out as a dominating presence waltz in and stops a couple meters away.

Thick black boots paired with his baggy pants, his signature orange trim outlining the hero outfit. He holds a rigid expression, disappointment flowing through his face as he blows a low sigh. Katsuki gestures his hand at you to follow him and turns around “You. Let’s go.”

A thick ball crawls to your throat, holding itself there, hiding away. You shake off Hina’s cardigan, shoving it into her arms as you pace up to Katsuki. Judgeful eyes follow you like a shadow, causing your eyes to peer down in a feeing of shame.

As silent as the floor has became with his presence it makes his footsteps so attention grabbing. You never had to actually see Dynamight to feel his dominant aura, you can sense it a floor below.

Katsuki rubs his forehead in stress with one hand, keeping the other in his pocket. Making your way through the halls you focus on the light jingles of the accessories and buckles on his lower half to cancel out the work place’s loud stares and murmurs.

Before stepping in the elevator, another employee walks in, turning around to face you and the blonde, six-foot man. The look of shock glimmers away into a shaky smile, bowing his apologies to Dynamight before quickly making his way back out, the stairs suddenly being a better option.

You give a sigh of relief when you both walk in, an opportunity to breathe away from everyone. You tilt back against the wall, not daring to have said a word to Katsuki. Even away from the floor, you still struggle to completely shake away the anxiety as you’re barely a foot away from your boyfriend. He leans against the side wall, arms crossed not even looking at you and it hurts more than you wished it did. Even though no one knew of your relationship you still feel as if you embarrassed him as an employee. You watch the floor number rise from fifteen to twenty, elevator ringing as you continue to follow him.

It was interesting to observe the dynamic Katsuki has with his employees, some greeting a good morning, others deciding to not engage in fear of his rough, bold nature. However he is not who he was years ago, he doesn’t have an explosive character like you read in his UA days.

These days when you’re with him he seems to be more mellow and calm. Katsuki isn’t spontaneously erratic.

He’s more vengeful.

Any time you yell out of frustration, he does not immediately yell back in spite to fuel you, no, instead he’ll remember it- he won’t forget until a perfect time comes to throw it back in your face.

You both finally walk into the hero’s office, locking the door behind him.

Your heart beats so fast you worry of it exploding, rupturing blood all over the desk in front of you. Playing with the rings Katsuki bought you, they turn round and round on your finger exhibiting your rapid, disillusioned thoughts of how this is going to turn out.

Looking up, your stomach jumps at Katsuki already looking directly in your soul, hand resting on his chin. His lean abs contour through his black compression shirt with that signature orange trim- his usual office wear for lounging before patrols.

The rain outside continues to pitter patter on the glass to your right, the dim and cloudy morning reflecting in Katsuki’s face and into his mood.

“What time did you get here today?”

“About 8:45.”

“You start at 8:30.”

You sit back in your chair, leg ticking. “Well you already demoted me so does it matter what time I get here anymore?” You say with a light glaze of lingering attitude.

Katsuki gives a pronounced sigh, getting up to the bathroom and coming back with a fluffy white towel. He throws it lazily atop your head, shaking it back and forth trying to dry your damp hair for you, reminiscent of all the times he does it after you shower together.

“Just listen to me, ‘lright? I just want to be able to make sure you’re always okay- I dont always go down there so if I can have you somewhere I’m always at, which is mission filing, it’s better for both of us.” Katsuki leans down, a light grip at the column of your throat paired with a chaste kiss to the top of your head.

You place the towel on your lap as Katsuki goes to sit down. You want to empathize with the fact he just wants to make sure you’re okay, however what else did you lose with this decision? You were never actually in any sort of danger knowing he would always be there to keep you safe, but even now with him by your side, you’ve lost a friend. With Katsuki gone for unexpected patrols, who was there for you to be with?

No one but rather just sit and wait patiently for him.

“I just wished-“

“Come here..” He says gruffly.

You stand, walking to Katsuki’s chair. He pulls you into him, slipping yourself into his lean arms as you rest into his chest. “You’re gonna be alright, okay? I’ll have someone move your stuff over and assign someone to train you. I’ll see you there later- I got some shit I need to do there anyways. Some dumbass mixed a bunch of piles together.” You give a small nod, closing your eyes. The amount of activities that happened in the last half an hour has given you a headache, you just want to revel in Katsuki’s warmth forever.

You almost felt lucky to have found someone like Katsuki, some people only wish to have a partner they know is strong, let alone a top pro-hero like him. You slept like a baby remembering you have him to count on, to lean on.

How he always seems to smell so good, the natural scent radiates off him, wisping its way into the air like a pink love potion, taunting you to take a nosedive right to his heart for more of his tenacious affection.

But when you take a long dive straight down into what seems so tantalizing, so provokingly sweet and open, you had better hope those waters weren’t shallow.

One month ago..

“You practically keep me fucking trapped here! I want to go out, make friends and have a life! I feel like a damn prisoner.” You scream back at him. After your fall out out with Hana it was a complete stop to outings and social relationships.

Katsuki rolls his eyes, trying to hold back his venomous words. “That’s not what I’m doing-“

“But you are! You always get mad at me when I try and talk to any coworkers, even when I’m just trying to do the job you gave me. I didn’t want that stupid position, and you practically drove my only friend away from me doing it!” Little droplets of tears hit your cheeks, you just felt frustrated. You hated to admit at home you were starting to feel depressed remembering besides your boyfriend, you didn’t have a social life outside the four walls you were in.

Katstuki sits back, the laptop illuminating a coolness off his face. He pushes his hair back in exasperation. “I already told you (y/n) why I did that. I didn’t do shit to drive her away from you, you did that to yourself.”

“I did not do that to myself-“

“But you did, baby.” He says accusingly. “You were the one that had to cause a damn scene and embarass me and yourself in front of the whole floor.” He looks into your eyes. “I don’t know what the hell else you want from me.”

You glare at him across the table. Your moist, glazed eyes are icy. His insinuation that this is the bed you made yourself leaves you feeling cold.

For a second you ponder how your relationship led up to this. You missed not long ago when your stomach flew in anticipation from his presence, not dropped. You missed when he chased you around the house completely out of breath until he caught you with a sweet kiss in victory.

Now you felt stuck in a situation you didn’t want to be in, even if you wanted be with him.

“Then I’ll leave.”

You said it as a compromise, Katsuki took it as a threat.

The room was quiet. You weren’t looking at him but you knew he was looking straight at you. His sharp red eyes had their own quirk of strength, feeling where they linger.

He almost couldn’t believe what he was hearing from you. He had to take over every responsibility in your life, practically make your decisions for you. Not that he minded, however to see this is what he got in return,

All he saw was your ungratefulness.

Vengeful.

He spoke his next words carefully. “Is that what you want?”

Pushing you hair back, you huff trying to hold back more tears. “I don’t know, Katsuki, I’m just tired.. I want to be with you but I- I just want more than this..” You finally say it. “I want my freedom.”

He doesn’t say a word.

The lump in your throat thickens, your eyes glaze over from his lack of reaction.

There was more you wanted to explain. The lonliness at work causing more insecurity as the days went by, wondering if someone was spreading rumors that you were a horrible person and that’s why it seems no one wanted to be your friend. Seeing an increase of articles with his name and famous pro-hero women as some sort of headline made you think why couldn’t you have a quirk like everyone else. Did he see you as weak? Is that why he does every little thing for you?

You wished he was more open for you to talk about your insecurities so you can have another reason to be here with him.

You turn and leave to your room.

.

Your mind drifts away from the scene in the past.

The dim glow above the stove gives subtle illumination, showing your half eaten bowl of ramen.

Now you sit at the kitchen island alone, not facing the main door in case Katsuki comes back from an emergency patrol with one of his sidekicks. It’s a late Thursday afternoon and your body fought itself to get up out of the painstaking urge of hunger and release of your full bladder.

Your hair is no different than a bird’s nest made of urgency. Your body feels warm from the amount of blankets that were stacked atop your unmoving body yet still some how you feel very cold and empty. You never did much of the cooking while you and Katsuki lived together, the most he’d let you contribute was prepping and chopping ingredients so by the time he got home he can cook. Still, you were grateful for it as you weren’t the best chef either.

Last night there wasn’t much sleep to be had- waking up every hour not remembering where you were with the cold emptiness beside you. When you finally did you couldn’t help but explode in tears from the heartache of the situation, falling back asleep in your cold, damp pillow. There was a urge to pad yourself over to your once shared room and push yourself into his front and beg from him to take you back, that you’ll be better for him, that you’re sorry. But deep down you knew to ask for Bakugou Katsuki’s forgiveness was no easy task when you were making things up to be sorry for.

The jingle of the doornob and keys jolt you out of your trance of staring at your half uneaten food. The door opens and you don’t dare to look back, if you did you think you’ll just burst into tears once more.

Katsuki goes past your back into the hallway for ten minutes before returning with his hoodie off and a t-shirt on. He pops in front of you, pulling out ingredients from cabinets and turning on appliances to cook, still ignoring your presence.

It feels like a cold reminder how he’ll seem to function perfectly fine without you. Katsuki knows the right temperatures to set the stove top when cooking, he knew how to pay his bills on time, how to fix the broken leg of a table without a manual, how to confidently make his own doctors appointments.

You didn’t know jack shit out cooking, always forgot to pay a bill, and if a table leg broke you’d just scrape up enough money to buy a new one. You had too much anxiety to go to an appointment alone, dragging him with you clutched on his arm.

Of course Katsuki knew all this, and he gladly took on the roles you couldn’t fulfill yourself, leaving you to be utterly dependent on him.

You felt useless.

And he knew that.

Finally, he turns around, leaning back against the counter waiting for his water to boil. “That your dinner?” He nods at your bowl.

You never looked up and just nod. “I might throw it out, I’m not really hungry.” It was the first time in a day you heard your voice and it was hoarse, you’re not even ill but you feel every symptom.

“That’s the first meal you’ve eaten so far, you should try and finish it.” He turns around to wash his vegetables. The way he speaks is as if he has his attention somewhere else, like you’re a chore to talk to.

Katsuki can ignore your presence as easily as he can take down a shitty F-tier villain and move on with his life. He’s always been so good at that; moving on. The stories you’ve heard from his youth that he and his classmates had to go through, yet on the surface he seemed like a relatively normal man in his mid to late twenties. At least that’s what’s assumed in the beginning.

He isnt blind, he can see how miserable you look, “You also didn’t come to work today, so I’m assuming you spent all day packing,” He turns to face you, making eye contact after so long, “right?”

Katsuki can’t quite put his finger on it, either. What little quirk you had about you that made you so irresistible to him. The way you walk, your smart mouth that made his jaw tick, he wanted it all. As much as you fought him, he got off on how much you actually needed him. His sharp words produces your tears yet you still let him clean it up and kiss it away.

Your shoulders are pushed back, leg ticking in annoyance trying to calm your mind- you can’t give in to what he wants.

“Why can’t you just leave me alone?” You announce meekly. You sound like a child, a child being bullied by the popular kid during recess.

He switches to wash the next vegetable. “You keep that attendance up, baby, I might just have to find someone to replace you again.” He explains with a tone of mock. “And make sure you clean out your guest room completely, might have someone else occupying that space soon.”

In the end, the hero just wants to see how far he can push until you crumble for him.

Small glass shards prick his sides, a loud crash shatters on the cabinet next to his head. “I fucking hate you! Go fuck yourself you-“

Your words halt as Katsuki throws the vegetables in the sink, marching over to your still, fuming body.

For a second your body is motionless, you didn’t even register what you had done until the clutter in the sink and Katsuki’s body turns to you. There’s a sudden rush fueling your body like you took a energy shot; swiftly jumping out your stool and running to the hallway, Katsuki’s curses echo around the house, taunting you to run faster, to get away from him.

Your swift emotions were ones to be taken care of cautiously, however Katsuki knew how to mold them. He knew he had a choice on how to deal with your actions, and they were very predictable. He knows exactly how to trigger you.

You nearly slip out of the faint graze of his hand, but you’re dizzy. As much sleep you seem to had gotten the past 24 hours it never seemed to be enough. He grips your wrist, pulling you back to him and against the cool wall.

Now the whole world felt still.

The small hum of the home was almost enough to drown out your spiraling head, barely remembering the past five minutes. You try and shake out of his tightening grasp, every push your eyes welled up with more tears, your heart drowning in sorrow; it suffocates in your own desperation for the man that fuels your despair. You’re making yourself drown in front of the only person who seems to be willing to save you.

You bawl and wail in front of Kastuki Bakugou, continuing to push and pull against his weakening grasp. Your heart hurts.

The door was always open to walk through and leave if you wanted to, however there was no where to go. Family was long gone and all your friends had been pushed away from you- you had to wonder if you were some sort of repellent and why it seemed no one wanted to be close to you. Now your own ex boyfriend seems to want nothing to do with you.

You bawl and wail in front of Kastuki Bakugou, continuing to push and pull against his weakening grasp. “Get the hell off of me-“ His heart stings hearing the anguish in your voice, he can see clear as day how tired you are. It’s the sob you can only hear from a broken woman. Your red eyes, puffy face and light streams of tears cry with you all the way down.

Your feet unable to hold up the weight of your gloom you slide down the wall, Katsuki following your every move. You’re slumped, hiccuping your wails as he is crouched down in front of you, observing what he seemed to have caused. “You don’t love me- get off of me!” The quick sharp breaths jump and fight trying to cut in front of eachother for air. Your face feels tingly, like static almost, a familiar feeling he knows you deal with with.

He sighs, letting go of your wrist. He gently clasps the back of your neck, letting his thumbs caress your temples trying to soothe the ache. “Look at me, sweetheart..” He tilts his head watching you look down away from his peering gaze. Katsuki repositions your face, “You gotta relax for me.” He whispers softly.

Your heartbeat feels like it’ll rupture any minute, you can hear it in your ears and in your temple. But you can also feel the rough pad of Katsuki’s thumb stroking your head in an attempt to soothe your ache.

“You used to get panic attacks too?”

“Mhm.” Your boyfriend lowly hums, moving his red plastic caricature up two purple spaces.

You started to confess to your boyfriend your struggle with your anxiety, how hard it was for you to function normally with the rest of society; how much it holds you back, especially with its lingering effects. He keeps a mental note.

Having not been privileged enough to go see therapists or psychiatrists, your disorder was one you had to learn about independently.

Turning over your next card you read its contents. Go up one blue space. “How did you used to deal with it?”

You sit across from him after prying to make time and play a game with you, him not completely content with playing Candyland, having to teach you how to play a kids game. He was even forced into playing with his classmates in highschool, yet was the first to keep the box before graduating.

Katsuki sits and thinks for a moment, quirking his eyebrow and grabs his next card. “Had to go to a lot of therapy my last year of school. Taught me some stuff.”

You were curious to learn more. “Like what?”

You continue your next move as he speaks, “Stuff like howta’ control yourself to not spiral during panic attacks. Gotta focus on your breath, focus on the present, the smells, what’s goin’ on around you type things. Kinda thought it was all bullshit..” He leans back against the bottom of the couch, arms crossed. “But I tried it out and realized it’s like any other skill, you have to practice and it’ll get easier.” He looks at you. “It always passes.”

You felt connected to him, wanting to push a little more. “When did you realize that?”

He grabs another card and moves up the board, “That’s probably a story for another time, sweetheart.” He declines continuing the game.

Glancing down at the board your avatar is right behind him near the rainbow. You grab your next card- a picture of a gingerbread man.

You hold it up for him to see. “What does this mean?”

He stares for a second before taking it and placing it in the old pile. “Gotta go back to the beginning.”

You focus on what’s in front of you, his sharp nose with imperfections, small clues of bruising and cuts from his line of work. A small fresh scar running down his bottom lip you didn’t really notice until now. You focus on smell. The scent of cleanliness from your ex-boyfriend, who always showers before he returns home at his agency so he was ready to jump into bed with you.

After five minutes the loud noise of your heartbeat fades away, your breath starting to regulate. A small hitch here and there but it’s still good enough.

You manage to cry out your last wave of tears as Katsuki carries you to the bathroom, settling you on the counter. Touching your pillowy cheeks, he inspects with both sides of his hands. He wets a rag, pushing your hair behind your ears and starts to wipe your face, cooling off your warm temperature.

“You got a headache, right?” You agree. He nods, putting a bottle of pills on the counter. He leaves and returns with a glass of water.

In a haste Katsuki quickly snatches the bottle out of your hand, you flinch as he grips your wrist in reflex. His brows are pulled together in shock.

“They all fell out.. I wasn’t gonna take all them.” you mumble quietly.

He doesn’t say a word, instead scooping them back into the bottle, giving you two and pockets the rest. You don’t miss the obvious look in relief in his face.

You take both without question, drinking the entire cup with a gasp. Sitting there, you watch him wet the rag again, coming back to run it over and press on the back of your neck.

He wets the rag again, “I don’t want to leave, Katsuki..” you whisper so low you weren’t sure he could hear you.

He knew you didn’t want to.

You reach out for his wrist, always red from the weight and force of his gauntlets. Pulling him towards you, you were finally face to face on the counter, the feeling of intimacy more prominent. You couldn’t remember the last time you felt more closeness to him with all the fighting. It practically made you forget how he isolated you.

Your aura pulses out like a toxic little flower he planted and struggles to resist. Your sad eyes and pouty lips with true sorrow and despair it almost makes him feel bad, however, he loves you too much to just let you go.

He steps between your legs, rubbing his hand over your damp cheek. “Let’s talk about it tomorrow, okay?” He helps you off the counter to his bed you once shared.

You hadn’t stepped foot in your old room with Katsuki in a month, having no reason to be present, instead sleeping in the guest room a couple doors away. Even with the constant arguing, the night always ended with you two back to back or someone in the other room.

That was until a month ago after the last altercation, you walk in to your clothes and items missing- discovering it thrown in the other room instead. You cried, sitting on the floor going through some broken jewelry and dusting off clothing and trying to make the empty space more comfortable.

Settling under the covers, the familiarity of your spot in the bed was the solace you’d been yearning for. Katsuki couldn’t help but miss seeing you there as well.

He rests the cold damp rag on your forehead, mentioning for you to keep it on and he’ll be back in a bit.

The room remains quiet, the bright light from the living and kitchen area peaking through the crack in the door. You can hear Katsuki talking. Based off the quick attitude and snarky remarks you guess he’s on the phone with the infamous green-haired hero. The kitchen rustles, the sound of glass being swept and dishes being washed flows as a type of ambiance.

The intense events from the past hour cause you to doze off, waking up with your rag missing and body warmth to your right empty and cold. You read the time on the wall as 6:46, knowing Katsuki left an hour ago, notorious for leaving an hour early from his hatred of tardiness.

The train ride to work felt quieter than it did early that week. Getting off, the walk to the agency you felt like you had a shadow following you, constantly checking behind you, pacing faster to the building. The after effects of your panic attacks never go unnoticed, hesitation and rapid feelings still riddling inside you as you try and look normal on the outside.

During the work day, it was easy to tell your coworkers began to judge your wellbeing. Yet no one said anything because of your reputation.

In the midst of typing paperwork and office phones ringing, you didn’t mean to listen in on your neighbors conversations.

“Did you see her?”

“She’s more beautiful in person!”

“You think they’re dating?”

Your heart jumps at the last rumor. You knew to not assume it wasn’t about Katsuki, all these people ever really wanted to talk about was how polarizing their boss is and the rumors surrounding him you can’t defend. Catching the name “Hikari” you look up the suspected hero, and she was everything you wished she wasn’t. Seeing her fan biography mention her quirk being linked to light, her accomplishments, being your age, you couldn’t stomach reading more.

You felt inferior and on-edge. It felt like someone was dumping a boatload of insecurities on you, like they planned every situation and you’re playing it exactly how they wanted.

You weren’t thinking straight. Were you?

Without notice you barged into his office, interrupting the two heroes. You couldn’t recall the steps on how you got here- when did you even sit up from your chair?

The voices in the room come to a pause, the light-hero looks at the explosion-hero, confused on the sudden entry. Your eye contact with him felt like it could drain your life force. He sits cross armed on the corner edge of his desk while she sits on the chair to his right. You felt like you’ve been punched in the gut.

“I’m- I’m sorry I didn’t mean to intrude like this..” You can’t even remember going in the elevator- or did you take the stairs?

The platinum-haired blonde sits up with a gentle smile. Her long hair flows down behind her back, fading to a pale pink, matching her fair complexion like you had seen in the photos. “It’s alright, I should be on my way anyway.” She turns and nods her head at Katsuki, “We’ll talk later, Dynamight.” Taking her leave she gives you a smile, like a ray of sunshine on her face.

The door closes shut behind her.

“Lock it.”

You don’t go sit down, not wanting to stay much longer.

You tug at your ring again. “I’m really sorry Katsuki- I don’t remember how I came up here.” You try to explain yourself. “I don’t even remember why I came up here in the first place-“

You look up to see him visibly upset, rubbing his forehead in stress you seem to have caused. Again. “I sent out a goddamn email to everyone in that floor to not even come up here because I had an important meeting..”

Every word he says describing the significance of the situation, you felt more upset, failing at holding back the tears of shame.

“I didn’t see an email, but I’m sorry, I just-“

“I even told everyone this morning.”

It was like scolding a child. You hiccup trying to push back the sobs that were screaming to come out, “No one told me..” You scratch behind your ear, wiping the tears off your puffy face. “No one talks to me here.”

The conversation quickly spins to a more personal subject. “I don’t have any friends, no family.” Katsuki studies your disassociating body language. “I’m all alone now.”

“(Y/n)-“

“I quit.”

You huff, trying to focus on other things like he said, however it still feels like you’re spiraling.

“What are you talking about? You want to quit?” His face looks disorganized, confused at what you’re getting at.

Face blotchy and apparent dark-circles you wondered if he found you pathetic in this moment. “I don’t think I belong here, Katsuki.” Your lips tremble, “I’m always messing things up for you, I’m not good enough, pretty enough, talented enough, I can’t do it anymore.” You sob into your hands, fully exposed for him.

You finally explain to your boyfriend your true feelings from overthinking.

Were you really that pathetic to think your pro-hero boyfriend wouldn’t want to leave a quirkless girl like you? Working with the most beautiful and powerful women in the world, you knew to question why he chose you-someone who applied for his company out of desperation.

Every compliment and word of love was suddenly starting to feel like a joke someone is playing on you.

“I don’t want to be here anymore.” You hiccup.

Katsuki gets up, worry drawn on his face, after every word you dug the needle farther into his heart with the extent you beat yourself down. He knows soon enough he can finally live the life he wanted with you, for you.

He reaches out for you, but you step back in fright, narrowing his eyes in confusion. You shake your head no, eyes pleading to not touch you. You were practically walking karma.

His heart hurts but keeps his hands to his sides. There wasn’t much left for him to do in the present moment, but soon enough it’ll work out. “I’ll fill out that paperwork for you then..” He almost reaches out to wipe away your stray tear. “Just go home for me, ‘lright?” His pleading face glazes down your vacant one. It was so easy for him to read you like a book. It read you were not going to be home later.

Yet he’ll still let you leave.

“No, I want the key for the apartment..” You whisper yet so firm.

Katsuki won’t argue with you. He goes to write the address on a piece of paper, ripping it off for you. “Go here. The front desk knows about you. They’ll give you the key.”

There was no key.

Why won’t he fight for you? Are you not worth it? Does he want you gone this bad?

You take the paper and turn to walk out the door. Don’t say a word or else you’ll crumble immediately.

“You know I’ll be at home waiting if you change your mind.”

You did what you felt what was best and left.

Your cursor passes by the empty email icon and shut off your computer, leaving all your items behind.

You stayed in the nearby park for a bit. Sitting on the bench while the air starts to cool off accompanying the light in the dimming sky. You lost track of how long you had been walking having been turned off your phone.

The nervousness in your body never went away, looking twice everytime a stranger passed by you in the street. You felt insecure thinking people might assume you’re some homeless junkie or stupid teenager that left home in a fit. You walked until your soles bled.

Standing in front of the apartment complex, hair sticks to your face soaked in rain. You hold the wet piece of paper in your hand, observing the up to date building sprinkled with balconies and decoratives.

You turn and leave.

.

Katsuki sits staring blankly at his whisky on the wood living table. His elbow lays on the arm rest, holding his head. He was calm.

The time clicks to 6:48pm later that night. The events from the past couple nights replay his mind like a loop, not having done much since he came home to an empty home hours ago.

A text notification breaks him out of his thoughts, he opens his messages. “She’s nearby.”

It was almost laughable. Like letting a child “run away” after their tantrum.

They always came back.

What the hell did they know about navigating the world without someone to help them?

He gets up making his way to the front door.

Why did you have to be so god damn difficult? If Katsuki had it his way there wouldn’t be no need to have to go through this exhausting mess. He couldn’t even believe what he heard the first time he heard you threaten to leave him. He wanted to grab you and keep you hidden away until you learned it was a ridiculous idea.

Turning the nob, he opens the door to a monsoon on the other side. The world looks hazy, like glass after a steaming shower.

Katsuki he knew a plan executed like that would never work on someone as stubborn as you were. He’s like how you knew he was, not spontaneously erratic- but vengeful.

His heart hurt seeing your wet figure emerge from the haze. His pretty girl.

Even with your red puffy face, distraught body language, he thought you looked more beautiful than ever. A true prized possession he couldn’t help but want just for himself. Even with his unfavorable ways, there was no doubt in his mind he loved you more than everything he ever had. Your resistance was just a minor obstacle he didn’t mind helping you get over.

You truly were like a cat that thought they were stuck in a box, but you were also trapped in the room.

His heart settles as you sink yourself into him. Melting into the comfort of his arms in the cold rain. Your whispers of “sorry” drown out in the heaviness of the weather. You felt stupid thinking you could go out on your own.

Kastuki presses a soft kiss to your lips, forgiving you. It didn’t matter to him. You came back like he knew you would. His next step to take away every insecurity you had thinking he didn’t find you perfect, a facade he started so you can end up right where you are.

“I’m so sorry for acting up..” You sob into his wet T-shirt, gripping his forearms in need. Your need to just be enough for someone. The little thoughts rattling your mind are agony, he was the only person he could pull them away one by one.

He wanted your sweet melancholy.

Smoothering your hair, he hushes your cries, ushering you back inside for you to warm up.

Vengeful.

I tried not to make this confusing, might have to work on my planning with these more “calculated” fics as I go forward lol N imma just post this and not overthink every bit now

Hoping to do Aizawa soon or Hawks again! Please continue to do your best as well,

Please like, reblog and follow ʕ⁎̯͡⁎ʔ༄

Tags: @ssplague

[variabels]

I really want to know what happening with Kaiser now… what’d he do?? 👀

Oops, this got kinda long. I put a tl;dr: at the end.

In the present time, Kaiser's been nothing but abusive towards this guy called Ness (throwing a drink at him, verbally abusing him, etc...) and hasn't shown even a hint of guilt. To say their relationship is toxic would be an understatement, it is not on the same tier as the other toxic relationships showcased in the manga, like it's straight-up undeniably abusive but some people were kinda ignoring that last part, so they got hit hard by what was shown in the leaks today.

A while back, Ness' backstory was revealed where it was shown how he met Kaiser (one thing to note is that this was Ness' POV). Kaiser chooses Ness to play with him since he thinks everyone else seems bad but Ness has potential. Later on in the flashback, it seemed that they used to have a normal friendship at least from Ness' POV.

Last chapter, it was revealed that Kaiser's father was abusing him as a child and the fandom felt bad for him. While it wasn't taken as an excuse as to why he abuses Ness, it is an explanation as to where his abusive mannerisms come from. I personally assumed that Kaiser's friendship with Ness had soured at some point and he became abusive towards him because cycle of abuse shenanigans etc... The general agreement in the fandom was that they at least had a genuine normal friendship at some point.

In the new leaks, plot twist, Kaiser was just using Ness all along and nothing seems to indicate he ever even viewed Ness as a friend. It turns out Kaiser only feels good by hurting others (never got love as a child so he can't accept kindness, that kinda deal) and he even studied psychology so he could manipulate someone into being his dog.

The same flashback from Ness' backstory is shown but from Kaiser's POV where we learn he chose Ness because he seemed easy to manipulate in addition to being good at football.

It paints the previous flashbacks showing them as friends in a whole new light when you know Kaiser thought of him as a dog and "opened up" to him to manipulate him (one thing to note is that Kaiser never actually said much about his past to Ness as in hindsight it was about as general as a horoscope...). It pretty much turned all the evidence of Kaiser once seeing Ness as a friend into evidence that Kaiser was manipulating Ness all along.

From what I've seen, this twist upset some Ness fans who were hoping that Kaiser and Ness would go back to being friends. Some Kaiser fans were upset that he turned out to undeniably be an abuser (tbh this one confuses me since he's been shown to be an abuser for a long while).

Personally, I loved the twist, I didn't expect it since this is a shounen manga, but it really makes sense looking back and explains so much. I love these manipulative characters, I've really been enjoying Hannibal lately cuz of that, but damn, I didn't expect my silly football manga to go this direction. This is the the good type of plot twist, everything is painted in a new light and I'm eating it all up.

TL;DR: Kaiser was just using Ness as his dog all along. Some fans upset abuser turns out to be an abuser. Kaiser being manipulative is a good plot twist.

[liz-allyn]

sugar and vice, pt. 22 [mob!tasm!peter x fem!oc]

summary: no amount of money ever bought a second of time.

words: 6.9k

chapter warning: soft smut, characters pretending to be mean and therefore breaking your heart

series warnings: mob-typical bang bang violence, hurt/comfort. smut. Spicy situations. spousal / domestic abuse. family trauma. verbal abuse. PTSD, psychotic breaks/episodes, drug use. coercion. manipulation. kidnapping. gore. blood. possessive!peter, protective!peter. toxic/yandere!peter (maybe, sorta), negative self talk, shameless forced proximity trope. ‘only ten one bed oops’ trope, imprisonment. slowest burn. a dash of questionable and/or morally grey intentions. extremely toxic relationships. having happiness ripped away from you.

This version of TASM Peter is not canon. The relationships and characters here are not healthy.

Don't date a mob boss.™️

18+ You’re responsible for your own media consumption, but if you weren't alive when Tobey Maguire was Spider-Man, maybe you should wait.

Part 22

A wise woman once told Peter that time was the key to the universe. She was so incredibly right.

Even so, Peter had a complicated relationship with time. He was always on the wrong side.

He had too much, or too little. He’d lose it. It would get away from him. It’d be just out of his reach, mocking him from the ivory tower of a future he would never have. 

The phrase ‘what if’ ticked away in his mind, like seconds on a clock. Like the broken hands of a clock face not too far from Roosevelt Island.

If he’d gone to bed an hour later, maybe he would’ve been awake enough to be able to save Ben and May from the gunfire.

If he’d gone into that convenience store a minute earlier or later, he would’ve never had the opportunity to try to be a hero.

If he had more time with Gwen…

If he had given her more of his time…

Time was the key to everything.

For someone who could crawl up walls and bend steel in his bare hands, he was rather powerless. What’s super about any of those party tricks compared to the power to control time? His estrangement with time left him weak and weary—no more than a street magician with cards up his sleeve.

But the night his Honey gave herself to him—for the first time in a long time—Peter felt superhuman.

He took his time with her. Washing the grime from her hair. Relishing her touch as she reached up to wash his back, and again as she ran gentle fingertips over his mending ribs. Long after their skin pruned, he held her beneath the roar of the shower, right next to his heart. 

Peter would’ve let the oceans run dry if it gave them more time to just be.

When they emerged, the sun was setting.

He counted heartbeats and freckles and dimples and breaths as they searched one another for injury. Patiently, they tended to each other’s wounds, but he didn’t waste too much time with his temporary discomfort. 

He’d live. In fact, he’d had worse. His natural healing abilities would take over eventually.

Until then, he could take his mind off his pain. And he was determined to do the same for her.

Peter focused his energy on stretching out each moment into an eternity, although that was hardly enough time to worship her how he wanted. He knew her so well already—or at least he thought he did— up until he noticed how her lower lip would twitch and fall agape as she reached orgasm. 

This discovery intrigued him. More research was needed. 

There were things about her body that only experimentation and practice could teach him, and the thought of unlocking more of her mysteries drove him wild. 

He wanted to study her. To become an expert in what made her gasp and quiver. A master of her body and heart, even as he became a willing slave to both. 

He wanted all of her, just as he’d said. 

To know her, wholly. 

Pleasure and pain. Joy and sorrow.

With a tender touch, Peter studied the scars of her past, stamped on her flesh like letters inked by a typewriter. He read each line, over and over, now committing to memory what he’d managed to miss because before he’d been in a hurry. Such a fool.

He followed the path of every bead of her sweat that served to punctuate the ecstasy of the present. Her soft sighs soothed him—crisp-sounding, like turning of pages in a book.

He should’ve taken his time to read her before, to really see her.

He wouldn’t repeat the mistake.

And so, ever the good student, he took his time. 

He wanted to know her by heart. He’d turned his bed into a seminary, where soon he’d be able to recite her like passages from a Bible.

Devotion like that takes time.

‘All a man has is time,’ Uncle Ben would say, ‘and what he chooses to do with it.’

Peter wasn’t going to waste a moment of it.

A thin sheen of cooled sweat coated his nude form as he stood at the foot of his bed. In reverent silence, he regarded the delicate woman softly dozing in his sheets. His gaze was content as he took in the peacefulness on her face. Her lashes hung heavy on her round cheeks, and her chest rose and fell in a steady pattern. 

She was curled up, snuggled with her face in the pillow as she clutched the bedsheet around her like a teddy bear. The eerie glow of dusk illuminated the curves not concealed by the sheet. Hidden paths up her thighs lured his gaze, barely obscured by the Egyptian cotton threads of the bedding. Her tiny fingers cuddled the edges of the fabric. It had turned into a chaste vestal robe which concealed places his mouth had explored an hour ago.

Even in her sleep, she was saintly and seductive. It was endearing as much as it was enticing.

His soft gaze continued down the path of her body. The rest of him hardened. 

“I can feel you, you know,” she murmured against the pillow. “Creeping on me.”

The tips of his ears went red, eyes widening like a cartoon robber frozen in a giant spotlight clutching a money bag in his hand. She snorted with amusement as she peeked at him over the covers. 

“You’re supposed to be asleep,” Peter chuckled in response, blushing.

“I’m not sleepy,” she lied. “Just resting my eyes.”

Both were exhausted. 

If they went at it again, it would count as Round 3 for him, and Round 5 for her. Maybe even 6. His regenerative abilities blessed him with seemingly endless stamina, but it was no match for the kind of day they’d had. 

The onslaught of damage, both physical and emotional, wore them down. Their activities wouldn’t have been possible if not for a mind-numbing wave of adrenaline-fueled lust that seized them. They were driven by the desperate need for compassion and comfort.

And yet, there he was: a caveman leering down at her with a boner. 

She twisted around, studying him with sparkling eyes. She reached out her hands in his direction, making grabby claws with her fingers. “M’not even tired. Lemme show you.” He snickered, watching her fight off a yawn that suggested the opposite.

Carefully, he crawled up from the foot of his bed to her side, pulling the sheets back to position himself behind her. He pulled her close until her back was up against his chest, skin-to-skin.

“Noooo,” she whined softly. “Gimme you.”

Peter couldn’t hold back his grin, although he shook his head. “You have me. What you need is some rest.”

“You’re the one who's ogling me in my sleep with a hard-on. Like a weirdo.”

His smile glowed in the darkness. “Can’t help it, Honey.” He leaned down over her shoulder, his warm breath tickling her ear. “Everything you do makes me hard.” He followed the statement with the evidence lined up against her lower back. His hands roved over her hips, greedily gripping the flesh at the top of her thighs. 

She hummed in satisfaction, making a noise that wasn’t helping either of them. He felt her body press even closer to his, rolling her hips. Peter couldn’t let out the erotic hiss gathering in his chest at the sensation of his shaft sliding between her cheeks.

He was losing control again. He propped himself up on one elbow with his hand keeping her hip still. “We... we should... sleep—you should sleep. Sleep is good. Sleep—”

“I don’t wanna.” Her head was turned upwards, glancing back at his winded expression. 

“But-but you... need to—”

She bent her neck and captured his lips with her own. She pulled away with a seductive pout. “I thought you knew what I needed.” 

Again, her mouth sweetly teased his, delicately coy, until she charged forward and conquered his kiss. For a few seconds (or... maybe a few minutes), he was the submissive one, as he succumbed to her desire. He remained helplessly complacent as her tongue toyed with his. It was only when he realized he’d lost track of the time that he pressed his fingertips to her chin and pulled away. 

It was one of the hardest challenges of his entire life.

“Wait, wait, wait,” he pleaded, voice deep in his chest. His forehead kissed hers as he held his eyes closed.

She blinked up at him curiously as he nuzzled her nose. “Do you need a moment?” she said shyly, biting her lower lip.

His lashes fluttered open as he stared down at the Milky Way in her eyes. 

Strangely, he thought of the great sea explorers of the past. He pictured himself in Magellan’s place, standing at the helm of a carrack in the eerie darkness of the Pacific. He was adrift in a vast ocean of uncharted waters with no land in sight, nothing but the stars overhead to guide him. He clung to them desperately, fearful of the darkness outside of their hold, but awestruck by their wonder. It was like gazing at the gate of heaven. Being alone in the Universe, locked in an intimate moment with God herself.

“What are you thinking about?” she murmured curiously. The question wasn’t worried or rushed.

Peter observed her intently, memorizing the pattern of her freckles. “I need so much more than a moment,” he breathlessly replied. His eyes shimmered in the dim light. “I need to stop time.”

She blinked several times, pondering his response with an uncertainty that might have gutted him if she had let it go on too long. 

Thankfully, she answered with another passionate kiss, tilting her chin behind her shoulder. The air was swept from their lungs when she pulled away from his lips. “What about a lifetime?” she whispered. “What could you do with that?”

Affection warmed his eyes while passion ignited his stare. He didn’t hesitate further. The width of his hand cupped her jaw firmly, and he crashed his lips into hers. He breathed her into his lungs as he leaned over her, his cock resting heavily in the space behind her back.

She let her fingers card through his thick, brunette waves, playing with the damp ends that had curled up after the shower. Synchronizing her movements, she dragged her backside across his shaft and her nails through his scalp. He purred, twitching against her spine. 

His hand travelled down again, memorizing the feeling of each pore from her jaw to chest...to her stomach... across her pubic bone... and finally slipping into her dripping folds. A satisfied hmmm rumbled from his chest as he licked a spot beneath her ear. The warmth of his tongue, matched with the roughness of his fingers, made her quiver in his grasp.

She pulled her hand away from his scalp, urgently searching for his waist to pull his lower back into hers. As the gentle tease of his fingers formed into a languid massage, she bucked her hips impatiently, using the arm under her pillow to balance herself.

“So needy,” he muttered, tone sizzling. 

She mewled, her hand frantically searching for a place to land. It fluttered at his wrist, his bicep, his nape, then over to her chest, her breasts, and back to his hand again.

“Told you I’d take care of ya,” he whispered, bringing his other hand on the underside of her hip bone, replacing the outside one. “Just relax.” His other hand gripped her uncertain fingers, guiding them down to her breasts. He slowly squeezed each one of her mounds with his hand over hers, allowing his fingers to spin a wheel at her tender bud.

Intently, he watched as her eyes disappeared, rolling into the back of her head.

“That’s it, baby, I gotcha.” His voice was dripping with dark chocolate. “Keep goin’ just like that.” 

It was an order, somehow delicate and firm.

It drifted into her ear like smoke from a wildfire and only added kerosine to the blaze in her belly. He reached down and lifted her outer thigh, forming a V with her legs. Opening up her core allowed his hand better access to her clit, while the other hand groped his cock and positioned it at her entrance.

“You need me to slow down?” he questioned, his mouth going dry from the panting. “Jus’say the word, and we can stop at any—”

“Don’t stop, Peter,” she cut him off impatiently, her voice lilting in desperation. There was no room for shame. “I need to feel you inside me.”

With a breathless gasp, he obliged her hunger and his own. He pushed the eager, leaking tip of his cock through her wet folds, perhaps a little more forcefully than he otherwise would have. He drank in her expression—the wince on her face, the flutter of her eyelashes, the pathetic whimper quickly melting into an erotic moan.

“S’okay, pretty girl,” he soothed. “M’gonna make it better.”

The grip of his fingers pushed dents into the meat of her thigh as he pried her open and rolled his hips into her heat.

“Doin’ so good for me,” he praised, his need overwhelming his senses. He pulled his hips back and drove them forward, slow enough for him to imbibe in her tremors. Her core fluttered over every inch. 

“Am I still a good girl?” she gasped with wide, wet eyes. Her head was thrown back against his shoulder and cradled against his bicep.

“Yeah, you are, princess,” he practically growled. She could feel the reverberation of his voice in her heart. “You’re my good girl.”

He sealed his lips around her open-mouthed moan, greedily licking it up for himself.

Each second stretched to a millennium. That’s what he would wish for if the Devil himself offered him a trade. However, it wouldn’t take long for the Dark One to realize that he had been cheated. Peter’s soul belonged to someone else already. 

Until mountains erode into sand. That’s how long he wanted each kiss to last. 

“God, you feel so good, baby...”

When sequoias that pierce the sky tumble and decay into the soil, from which a new giant is born and completes its life cycle. That’s how long he wanted each of her sighs to last.

“M’gonna be good t’you, always...”

Until every tectonic plate wades to a new home atop a pool of lava, and the face of the Earth is unrecognizable.

“You’re so good to me, Pete... s-so good—”

Until all the glaciers have melted. At the end of the next Ice Age. 

—“...radio waves from Galaxy 0402+379, whose coordinates appear in the constellation Perseus,  featuring binary supermassive black holes with the least separation of any directly observed binaries, at a distance of approximately 23.88 Light-Years. Now, who can tell me what happens when these two objects reach singularity? Anyone? — Yes, Mr. Parker...”—

“Don’ever wanna lose you, Honey... Never, never...”

Until the end of the Milky Way’s last dance, as the curtain falls while it takes its sister Andromeda by the hand.

“Shhh, you won’t, baby. You won’t lose me. Just—ahh—stay with me...”

Each moment stretched out into eternity. Slow like molasses. Dripping like honey.

She was right. Time was the key to the whole universe.

And as Peter pushed her toward another summit, clutching her close as they tumbled over the peak together, they shared a sweat-coated sigh of relief. Both of them were finally sated, at least for now. At this moment, they were content drifting off to sleep in the cradle of each other’s embrace. 

He kept her body wrapped around his, her face buried into the crook of his neck. His hand weighed heavily across her back. Eyes closed, he listened intently to her familiar purr.

He knew it well. It was the one that would confirm she was asleep—the signal he would wait for to open his eyes and observe her beauty freely, without hinderance or shame.

“I love you,” he said. 

Always.

A vow. 

A hope.

A plea.

She woke up to the sound of rain pattering on the window panels. 

Grey light pushed on her eyelids, prying them apart, while cool air scratched at her back. She responded by folding herself tighter and burrowing her nose into a warm chest. She was still dreaming, she thought. The scent of cedar and cinnamon filled her airways as calloused hands tickled her back.

She was dreaming. And it was a beautiful dream. She refused to acknowledge the light, fighting off the waking world.

When she felt a gentle brush of fingers clearing a lock of her hair from her face, she found the courage to open her eyelids. Gazing fondly at her were a pair of doe eyes. The light of day reflected off their hue, but the facets were illuminated from within. 

Like candlelight. Like fire. Roasted chestnuts, caramel, chocolate, hazelnut, whiskey, brown sugar, and molasses. Warm amber, deep garnet, charred topaz, smokey quartz, bronze, brass, and gold. Earth and fire and water and the air that escaped her lungs.

And honey. Delectable, delicious honey. 

She found it all in his eyes.

“Morning,” he murmured, his throat thick from hibernation. A beaming smile burst through his lips, burning through clouds outside.

Her heart stuttered as she basked in its glow. “Morning.”

He glowed. Her friend. Her protector. Her lover.

They lay in silence, regarding one another with warm gazes and warmer hearts.

“How long’ve you been awake?” she said with a tired smile, leaning back into her pillow to get a better look at his face.

“Not sure,” he whispered, threading his fingers through her hand and placing it near his heart. The short distance between them at the present was as far away from her as he could stand. “I was jus' thinkin' about how long I've been asleep. Too long.”

She blinked at the awe in his expression, blushing as she realized he wasn’t referring to last night’s rest. Her eyes sparkled back at him, feeling a slight ache at the corners. They held several seconds of blessed silence, taking in each other in peace, until Peter rubbed the haze from his eyes.

“We outta get up,” he sighed. “Need to pack.”

“Pack?” she repeated. Her smile dimmed a bit, as the dark memories of the past couple of days crept back into her consciousness. “Where are we going?”

“You let me worry about that,” he said, though not unkind. He kissed the back of her hand tenderly. “All you need to know is that we’ll be safe. And Bella and your sisters will be waiting for us.”

Her eyes fluttered wide. “Really?”

He smiled. “Really.” Gazing at her fondly, Peter watched the relief wash over her until it brimmed at her lashes. “I’m jus’ goin’ over the details in my head,” he added thoughtfully. “Does your ma ever play the lottery?”

She smirked. “No.”

“Well,” he pondered, “she’ll be so surprised when she finds out she’s won a million dollars and another vacation getaway.”

A snort broke through her foolish grin. “Practically astonished. Won’t even bother to question it.” 

“She can come along as long as she doesn’t ask any questions,” Peter said delicately before giving it some thought. He added on a condition. “And she keeps her mouth shut.” More thinking. “And stays alone, in her own place, away from us and the girls.” His brow furrowed as he continued to ponder. “Maybe even on a different continent. I’m still fine-tuning the kinks in my plan.”

“Hmmmmm,” she grinned, leaning into another soft kiss. “Kinks.” 

Playfully, she brushed her tongue against his, stirring a deep groan from his chest. When he pulled back, he fixed her with a sultry gaze. “Careful...” he warned. “You might start somethin’ you’ll have to finish. Again. And again. And again—”

She giggled and leaned in for another kiss until they were interrupted by a sharp knock on the door. The couple jumped, with Honey clutching the sheet to her chest.

“Pete!” they heard Felicia’s voice through the wall. “Open up! Or... close—whatever it is you’re in the middle of.”

Honey snapped her eyes to Peter, embarrassment flooding her expression. He grinned wide, amused by her flustered state. 

“Just a minute,” he called back as Honey pulled the sheets off the bed and dragged them with her. Alarmed, she scurried across the room with a shocked look. “C’mon,” he muttered at her with a jeering chuckle. “You didn’t think we were that quiet last night, did you?”

Scowling, she flipped him off and disappeared into his closet. Coming to a stand, he paused with one foot over the edge of the bed, his smile fading.

There were two heartbeats at his bedroom door.

“Hurry up, Peter,” Felicia repeated, a lack of levity in her tone. “We’ve got company.” 

In a blink, he had on a pair of sweatpants and was reaching for his phone. He pulled up a camera feed outside of his bedroom. 

Felicia stood with her arms crossed impatiently, tapping her fingers along her biceps. A familiar face waited beside her, wearing crimson-tinted sunglasses and clutching a white cane. 

Something sharp pulled at his chest, the brightness of his smile dimming. He glanced back at the closet doorway. 

“C’mon, Pete. We don’t have time!”

Peter frowned.

Of course they didn't. It was always out of his reach.

He wiped the self-pity off his face as he pulled open the door. He hadn't bothered with a shirt, facing them with a bare chest still striped with bruises. 

“Matt,” he stated, reading the grim look on the other man’s face. Peter didn’t need many words to confirm what he could already hear in his friends’ heartbeats.

“Sorry to wake you,” Matt stated tensely, “but we’ve got a problem.”

It took a minute for Honey to be brave enough to poke her head out of the closet. She was fully clothed, wearing a silk robe tied snugly around her waist, but her flushed cheeks telegraphed her embarrassment.

She expected smug and teasing expressions, if not from Matt, then definitely from Felicia. What she saw was the opposite.

“How much time?” Peter asked, brows furrowed and arms crossed tightly.

“Maybe a minute,” Matt answered. "Maybe less."

“Building’s surrounded,” Felicia added anxiously. “Cleaning crew just left. We haven’t had time to check the work.”

“They’re good at what they do,” Peter assured her. “It’ll be fine. We just need to put on our game faces, stay calm, and we’ll get through this—”

“They’re bringing an army down here, Pete,” Matt implored. “You need to be sure.”

“If I weren’t, I wouldn't be standing here,” he replied.

“You oughta be running,” Felicia said sharply, "preferably to LaGuardia."

“Leaving is a bad look,” Matt argued. “I cannot stress that enough.”

Felicia glared at him. “But you would recommend a trip to Ryker’s? I thought you were supposed to be a good lawyer?”

“Cat. We need to deflect attention right now. Stay calm.”

“Where are we going?” Honey questioned, her voice cutting through the tension like a hot blade into butter. 

The conversation came to a screeching halt.

Eyes snapped in her direction, but she noted how Felicia immediately looked away. Even Matt turned his head; his nose pointed at the floor.

Peter was the only one who looked her in the eye. And when he did, it made her stomach twist. Despair filled his gaze.

He didn't need to say a word. She already felt faint. “Pe-Peter...?”

He dashed across the room, taking her face in his hands. As quick as the motion was, everything felt like it was moving too fast—need more time—and Honey couldn’t keep up. Like concrete weighed down her feet—what happened, what just happened, what’s happening—and the lights of an oncoming train blinded her. 

“Pe-Pe—But—-wh-wha—? What is he talking about whatdoesthatmean who’scominghere wha-what-whatdoesshemean—”

“Easy, easy,” he cooed. “It’s okay. It’s gonna be okay, yeah? I’ve got it under control.”

Her voice shattered beneath a whisper, “Don’t lie to me, Peter!” 

He fell silent. Sorrow twisted his closed lips. Then, hesitantly, he explained, “The cops are here. They know about Walker.”

Honey gasped. And then she felt herself go numb.

“They were expecting him to check in this morning. And when he didn’t, somebody knew to come here.”

Tears flooded her vision with wretched memories riding them like a tidal wave. A python tangled itself around her lungs, constricting her breath. 

“Now, they’re gonna come in and make a big show,” Peter continued to explain, “but it’s very important that you stay calm, Honey. Don’t say a word. Don’t answer any questions. Just follow my lead.”

She was crying. Her mind was traveling through wormholes in time. She was hurdling untethered into a cosmos of what-ifs and should-have-dones. Doubt and terror filled her expression as her heart broke into pieces.

“Nothin’ bad’s gonna happen to you, sweetheart. On my life, I swear it,” Peter softly declared. “You’re gonna be okay.” 

Honey blinked wet lashes up at him, still existing outside reality. “I... I’m... I’m not afraid.”

Peter went still, lips parting.

She stared at him with resolve, her voice turning to steel. “I don’t regret what I did. Even if I have to go to jail—”

“You’re not going to jail,” he promised, shutting down the idea.

“I’m not sorry that I killed him. I’d do it all over again, if I had to. He was a monster... and-and he needed to die. I’ll tell them—”

“Honey, you’re not going to jail,” Peter firmly repeated. “I am.”

She froze, her stomach and heart plunging. Her wet eyes went wide. “What?” Terror gripped her. “What!? What do you mean—”

Peter noted how she physically pulled back, like a cobra ready to fight to the death.

“Listen to me, listen, listen," he pleaded. "We don’t have a lot of time, so I need you to listen to me carefully, yeah?” Peter murmured, the sight of her tears twisting a knife in his chest. “It’s gonna be fine. They’ll take me in, but we can fight it. Nobody has to know what really happened, alright? All you gotta do is follow my lead—”

Now her mind was traveling elsewhere, plummeting down into hell.

She pictured Peter in handcuffs. In an orange jumpsuit. At his trial. For murder. Of a goddamn shitbag. A federal agent. Sentenced. To death.

She rapidly blinked as if doing so could clear the horrifying image from her vision. Instead, she kept shaking her head as the nightmare unfolded.

Her tongue wouldn't work right. “But-But—”

“You’re my brave girl,” he said with soft desperation. “Jus’ need ya to stay brave a little longer, alright?”

“You... you didn’t do—no, no, you can’t—”

“I’ll make sure you’re safe,” he pleaded. “You, Bella, your sisters—you’re all gonna be okay. Just like I promised, alright? You just gotta go along with what I say. Whatever you hear, you gotta stay quiet, okay?”

“But...”

“No buts, you gotta trust me—”

“But... M’not—”

“I’m serious, Honey. I’m not playin’ around. Don’t fight with me on this—”

“I’m not letting them take you away from me!” she snapped, her voice breaking.

He went quiet as her fingers gripped him by the arms, nails digging into his flesh. She shook her head vehemently. In fact, her whole body was trembling like the facade of an avalanche. Hot tears spilled down her cheeks as she stared desperately up at Peter.

“You belong to me, too!" she said through sobs. "Okay? You’re mine, and I’m not letting you go. I’m not running away. There is nothing on this Earth that I love more, and I’m not leaving you!” 

Time stopped. 

Peter blinked at her, unsure if he actually heard what she just said. 

When he listened to her heart, it beat steadily. Drumming its truth. Each beat the tolling of a bell, ringing clear.

One moment stretched out into eternity.

Peter's eyes shimmered as he gazed down at her. His heart swelled beyond his chest, outside of the room, dwarfing the skyscrapers, eclipsing the sky.

Craning his neck, he touched his forehead to hers. He swore he could feel her devotion through her skin. He was empowered by it. Weakened by it.

Swallowing hard, he breathed her into his lungs.

Suddenly, they were alone in the room. In the city. On the planet. A shudder racked through her, a silent sob escaping her lips. “I... love you, Peter. I love you so much—”

“I know you do,” he nodded with a reassuring tone. Tears budded at his eyelids. “I know.” He hooked his fingers beneath her jaw and pointed her gaze up at his. 

There she is, he thought. His light in the darkness. His hope. His Honey.

“Do you trust me?” he whispered. 

She felt her pulse in her own throat as she gazed up at him with red eyes. He waited for a response. She sniffed and nodded, swallowing her panic back down. 

He smiled warmly. “Then I need you to remember that I love you,” he said. “And don’t ever forget it. No matter what you hear, okay? I love you forever. No matter what.”

Heavy footsteps echoed from down the hall. Her stomach twisted helplessly at the sound. Peter pressed a chaste kiss to her forehead. When they parted, he turned away from her. She watched his retreating form until she felt Felicia's fingers take her by the shoulders. Gently, the woman led her back away from bedroom entrance.

Honey watched him longingly as her arms ached to hold him. He kept his back to her, eyes fixed on the ground. 

“Police!” a shout boomed from the hallway. “Coming in!” Honey felt a scream bubbling in her throat, desperate to break free.

The door opened with a bang. 

Peter kept himself steady, casting his eyes downward as a herd of boots stampeded around him. In a blink, at least a dozen of NYPD’s finest filled the space, with pistols and rifles pointed at Peter. They barked orders, shouting over one another. 

He was motionless.

Honey’s eyes darted around to see the ridiculous show of force, more befitting of Michael Myers or Hannibal Lector.

Half of them wore traditional police uniforms and bulletproof vests, while the other half wore full body-armor and carried SWAT-style equipment. Her eyes narrowed in on the SHIELD patch on the arms of one of the officers, her stomach twisting into knots.

“Hands up!”

“Put your hands above your head!”

“This is absurd—you’re in my client’s private residence!”

“Hands where I can see them!” 

When Peter looked up at them, he was a different man. He looked surprised. His eyes glittered with amusement, and his mouth was crooked with a brash grin. Relaxed, he leaned back on his hands as casually as any visit, observing the intruders with a pompous smirk

“Mornin’, boys,” he said boldly. “Please tell me one of you brought donuts.”

“On your feet!” one of the SHIELD agents hissed. The man sporting dark stubble over his jawline and a military crew cut stepped forward and gripped Peter by the shoulder. With a yank, he hauled the half-naked man to his feet—or rather, Peter allowed himself to be manhandled into a standing position. 

“Hey, watch it!” Matt snapped. “You lay a finger on my client, and I’ll have your badge faster than you can say your overly complicated acronym.”

“Tell ya what, Murdock,” the dark-haired SHIELD agent glowered at him with a cruel smile. “If you see something, say something.”

“You hear that, Matty?” Peter snorted. “Small Dick Energy over here’s brought his big guns and blind jokes today... What’s ya name anyway, pal?” 

“Rumlow,” the SHIELD agent spat. “What’s it to you?”

“No big deal,” Peter shrugged. “I’m gonna wanna know which funeral home to send the flowers to, is’all.” 

Rumlow’s face turned red with rage, giving him a look that shot terror down Honey’s spine. Peter smirked haughtily as a different police officer turned him around and wrenched his wrists behind his back. 

“Ooh!” Peter hissed playfully, with a lascivious wiggle of his brows. “Easy, tiger. Gimme some time to recharge 'ere. I had a rough tumble last night—”

“It’s about to get rougher,” a husky voice called from the entrance. 

Honey turned to see George Stacy’s ominous form blocking the doorway. His eyes were even baggier than the last time she saw him. His stringy, graying red hair looked unwashed, and he wore a wrinkled white dress shirt under his Kevlar vest. Marching into the room, the man glared at Peter with narrow eyes that could melt steel.

“Georgie!” Peter called out with glee. “I thought I smelled bacon. Good to see ya, buddy!”

“Captain Stacy to you, asshole,” Rumlow bitterly remarked. 

“Oh, no, Georgie and I go waayy back—wait a sec....did you say ‘Captain?’” Peter questioned before turning to George in shock. “Really? Still? Ya mean they haven’t given you a promotion yet? That’s some bullshit right there—”

“Peter Parker,” George declared sharply, popping each ‘P,’ leering at him like a shark hunting a sea lion. “It’s with the utmost pleasure that I inform you that you’re under arrest.”

“I’m happy for you, Georgie,” Peter smirked. “Really am. You look like you could use some pleasure.”

“Captain Stacy,” Matt snarled, inserting himself between the two men, “I had a conversation with the Commissioner this morning. We agreed that Mr. Reilly was coming in of his own accord—”

“‘Ben Reilly’ can come on down whenever he wants,” George sneered disdainfully, pointing at Peter. “I’m here for him.” He flicked his eyes back to Matt, “If you wanna take something up with the Commissioner, go ahead. He’s downstairs.”

“That’s perfect—maybe we can all do a round of 20 Questions!” Peter grinned wide. “Anybody up for a game? Here. I’ll start:” He glanced over at George, lifting his chin proudly. “Never Have I Ever... been suspended from active duty for showin’ up to work three-sheets-to-the-wind and smellin’ like I bathed in a vat of Irish Whiskey.”

George chuckled mirthlessly, loathing in his eyes. “That’s funny. Always so clever.” His smile faded. “Make jokes all you want, Parker. They’re still gonna take it outta your ass at Ryker’s. If you even make it that far.”

The humor dimmed in Peter’s eyes, but his grin was infallible. “Don’t tempt me with a good time.”

“I know exactly how to tempt you,” George said through gritted teeth. He glanced across the room to the small woman hugging herself in a silk robe. “You.”

Honey’s glossy eyes went wide, stunned motionless as all eyes turned to her. “Me?” Her voice trembled pathetically, tongue fumbling. She was incapacitated by her fear as much as she was by her growing anger.

“You," Stacy grinned with a set of shark teeth. "You’re comin’ too. Cuff her.”

She flinched as a blue-shirted officer stepped towards her. 

“Wait. Who?” the cuffed man piped up.

They halted at the sound of Peter’s confusion. With a crooked brow, Peter leaned forward, bending at the waist. When Honey made eye contact with him, she was shocked to see him practically looking through her. His face went blank, eyes widening slightly.

“Oh,” he said, as if he’d found a stray cat on his front stoop, or a slightly-interesting ad in his mailbox. “Hi, there.” Awkwardly, he smiled at her, but the smile didn’t reach his eyes. “Uh...” He blew out an exaggerated exhale, utter shock on his face. “You!”

A crease formed between her eyes as she stared back. The crowd of officers glanced between them with growing confusion. 

Peter eyed her with a blush, embarrassed. Sheepishly, he blurted out, “Eh. I gotta level with you. I didn’t know you were still here.” 

A hitch formed in her throat as she blinked at him, her face looking as if he’d slapped her. By contrast, besides the slight discomfort of being caught off guard, he appeared apathetic. Like she was a total stranger.

“Um, look,” he said, scrunching his face like he was about to rip off a bandaid. “I... uh, usually this isn’t my style, but... M’kinda in the middle’a somethin’. So... if you could grab a cab home, that’d be great.” 

Her stomach twisted.

Peter fixed her with an apologetic grin that was half-cringe, as if he was still attempting some level of charm without any kind of real remorse. 

“Just hit me up on Venmo,” he added, as if their relationship was some transaction. Like selling an old couch on Craigslist. He suddenly looked alarmed, glancing at the officers around him, then added, “For the cab fare! Not the... y’know, anything we did last night.”

Mortification hit her like a truck. He simply wrinkled his nose and shrugged, then glanced away. He didn’t look back.

Honey wanted to vomit. She lacked the air in her lungs to respond in words. Instead, she responded with a brokenhearted, glazed-over expression of shock and horror.

“Bullshit,” Captain Stacy said, eyes narrowed between Peter and his mistress. “Don’t play games with me, Parker. I know who she is.”

Peter blinked at his estranged father-in-law, completely daft. “Really?” He glanced back in her direction, avoiding her eyes, then to George again. “Wait. She’s not your daughter, is she?!”

“No!” the man replied, his face turning red.

Peter sighed. “Thank God. That woulda been so weird.”  

“Don’t bullshit me, Parker!” the police captain growled. “This woman is just as culpable as you are!”

“Really, Captain Stacy,” Matt added, skeptically. Doubt was slowly overtaking the room. “You can’t honestly believe that this, uh... um—” The lawyer cleared his throat, “—Mr. Reilly’s guest—is somehow useful to your case?” He scoffed with a laugh. “Or that she’s of any kind of consequence to my client at all?”

George pointed at the woman, who looked humiliated and near tears. “This woman is a witness, at the very least!” he barked. “She’s his girlfriend! His ‘Honey.’”

The way Peter raised one of his brows was almost comical, if it wasn’t so cruel. Incredulously, he glanced over at the devastated woman and snorted.

He looked back at George incredulously. “Seriously?” he scoffed. “Do you have any idea how many ‘Honeys’ I go through each month?”

The wince that followed could be felt throughout the whole room. Even strangers averted their eyes. 

The mob boss laughed cruelly. “Don’t get me wrong, she’s a great lay with a cute face. But that’s it.” 

A vein popped out of George’s forehead. The surrounding officers avoided eye contact, the situation becoming uncomfortable for everyone in the room. “This woman is practically an accomplice!” he bellowed, raising his voice loud enough to echo into the hall.

Peter gazed at him like he had two heads. “Accomplice?” He raised a brow. “You’re losin’ it, pops. I don’t even know her name.”

The pain was so sharp, she flinched. Like a stab to the back, or punch to the gut. A slap in the face. Her stomach lurched. Eyes blurred. She wanted to scream and vomit and die.

And still, she wanted Peter to look at her. To give her some kind of indication that this was all just a ruse.

Instead, he kept George fixed in his gaze, watching the sweat bead on the police captain's forehead as his outrage flared.

“‘Sides,” Peter taunted, licking his lips like a dog. “You know my type.”

The man’s eyes shot back to Peter, flashing red.

“That reminds me,” the mob boss grinned, a lewd twinkle in his eye. “How’s Helen?”

At the mention of his wife, George’s face dropped. His eyes went wide, the color vanishing instantly. The grown man lunged across the room with a growl. His hands were wrapped around Peter’s neck in the blink of an eye, practically tackling the cuffed criminal to the ground.

A ruckus of shouting, grabbing, and grunting broke out as George’s colleagues physically restrained him from continuing to choke Peter. 

The melee suddenly came to a halt when an authoritative male voice shouted out from the doorway, “What the hell’s going on here?”

The humorless tone snapped the whole group into order. The doorway was shadowed by the silhouette of a tall, broad-shouldered man with dusty blonde hair wearing a tailored suit. He was older, possibly in his 70s, and judging by the way the officers tensed up as he strode into the room, he outranked them. 

“Anybody want to tell me what the problem is?” the man ordered, keeping his tone soft.

“Well, I’m missing a shirt, for one,” Peter complained. “And if you plan on takin’ my picture, I gotta tell ya, I don’t go topless. Least not for free.”

Matt spun towards the authoritative presence, infuriated. “Commissioner Pierce,” he greeted him firmly, with a faint tone of relief. “Your officer just attacked my client while he was restrained in handcuffs. Respectfully, I request that he be removed immediately from the premises.”

The Commissioner’s eyes roved from Murdock to George Stacy, who was still panting wildly, hair disheveled, and shirt askew.

“Captain Stacy, you’re dismissed,” the man declared. Just like that, it was over. Not even the SHIELD agents attempted to argue. George opened his mouth to protest, but Pierce silenced his rebuttal. “That is all,” he said calmly.

George snapped his mouth closed, stunned at the turn of events. He gulped down rage, and jerked himself free of his fellow officers’ grip. Without another word, he spun on his heel and stormed out of the room. 

Now Pierce was in charge.

He gazed over at Peter, staring at the lanky man past the end of his nose. Pierce looked as if he was sizing him up. His eyes were cold and impersonal, like judging a cut of meat. Defiantly, Peter glared right back.

Matt stepped in, more sensitive to the man’s authority than Peter. “Commissioner Pierce, I appreciate you sharing my concern for a conflict-free investigation—”

“No need for posturing, Mr. Murdock,” he answered. There was a sophisticated nature to Alexander Pierce that the others were incapable of. “We can make this quick and easy. Your client’s coming with us. Gentleman, please, kindly escort Mr. Reilly from the room.”

“So... no shirt then?” Peter remarked, before being 'pulled' along by the beat cops at his sides. The other officers moved with him, filing out behind him. “Forget my lawyer!” the mob boss called back from the hallway. “You’re gonna hear from my agent!”

Pierce scanned the room like a shark through water, landing on the small, mortified woman in the back. Honey looked up to see Pierce’s eyes narrowed in on her. Matt remained close, and deep down, she knew it wasn't for her support. The tall man approached her, studying her intently. 

“So that just leaves you, then,” Pierce said. “Mr. Murdock, do you represent this young lady, too?”

Eyes glistening, she swallowed hard, focused on keeping the bile from crawling up her throat. 

“No, sir,” Matt stated, mouth twisted with a smirk. “In fact, I don't have a clue who she is. I’m pretty sure you could question every person in this house—you’d get the same answer.”

With a firm jaw, Pierce said to her, “Who are you?”

Fawn-like, she stared up at him, blinking wet lashes. “I... I’m....” Her mouth fumbled before forming the correct words. 

“I just make coffee.”

Continue to Part 23

[thistlecatfics]

Fic authors self rec! When you get this, reply with your favorite five fics that you've written, then pass on to at least five other writers. Spread the self-love ❤

oooh thank you <3 <3 <3

put these together and then... oops there's a theme for all my favorite fics. (It's incest and dub-con and non-con and substance abuse and not quite fully ever recovering from trauma.)

Nymphadora, Nymphet (Bellatrix/Tonks, 20k) (cw: incest, teacher/student, grooming, non-con)

Dear Nymphadora, I’ve been informed of a temporary Defence professor this year, and you may have gathered she is (was) my sister. Be careful. If she attempts to harm you in any way, report straight to Professor Sprout. We shall talk more at Christmas; it may be time for you to learn more about my side of the family. Please watch your Potions work – I know you can do better than last year. -Mum

I didn't write this fic specifically to include as many content warnings as possible, but with Bellatrix you just sort of end up there. I read My Dark Vanessa and immediately knew I wanted to write a fic inspired by it - though it took me a while to find the right moment. Bellatrix herself is just so captivating. I think as a reader you can see exactly what's happening and still have a part of yourself fall for her just as Tonks does.

Icarus Parvati/Millicent/Pansy) (cw: addiction, suicidal ideation)

A year after the war, Parvati runs into Pansy and Millicent at a club in Ibiza and finds herself embedded in their debauchery. None of it’s healthy, and it works until it doesn’t.

Ahhh this fic. My beloved. I invented a ship tag for it so I know why it sits at less than 700 hits BUT this fic and three women have my heart in such a chokehold. I can't let myself start rereading this fic because every time I do have to finish it. In terms of quality to kudos, I definitely think this is my most underrated fic.

Waxing Gibbous, October 1981 (Remus/Fenrir, Remus/Sirius, 6k) (cw: non-con, canon compliant first war miscommunication)

Remus cuts his soul open for monsters.

I started this fic after a week of particularly emotionally challenging sessions with clients where so many people were processing what it meant to intentionally return to a person who abused them -- and then took a break for over a year because it hit too intensely. Thank you to various cheerleaders for keeping me going. I'm a sucker for canon compliant first war angst between Sirius and Remus and may I say that I have delivered.

Alphard's Favourite (Sirius/Peter, past Sirius/Alphard, 6k) (cw: past CSA, incest)

Peter tries to find out why Sirius is so upset over Alphard’s inheritance. Then he tries to make sure Sirius doesn’t fall off the roof. Then he tries to ensure Remus doesn’t hear them.

This fic contains the greatest ending line I've ever written. You should read it just for that. You should also read it because with no other fic have the two characters taken over the plot so intensely. I wrote it as a mediation on different ways people messily recover from incest/CSA but then Peter and Sirius insisted on having sex so that's what happened.

Duty (Regulus/Sirius, 2k) (cw: suicide, incest)

Regulus knew what a duty was.

I wrote this fic on the train to see my parents as a way to process my own childhood. I thought it would be difficult to turn it into a fic but then it became a Regulus character study with only a few edits so even though it feels almost too personal to be a fic, but it works as a canon compliant Regulus story. It's 2k words, but it'll hit like an epic I promise :)

[pawseds]

I convinced our Delta Green game master to have a play-by-post (basically text roleplay) section in our game's server and uhhhhh maybe I've been having too much fun with it. Writing is faster than drawing comics, what can I say?

(Long ramble about writing stories below hehe oops)

While we're here! A bit about writing: I like writing! I've written for loger than I've drawn for (because school). I think I'm better at writing than drawing for that reason (I'm more confident at least). I've written short stories. I've written short stories about TTRPG things. I've also written a ~100k word novel by hand for 2 years. While writing it, I had 'writing class' (technically AS/A level Ennglish Language classes). It was the only class I had confidence in and high expectations for.

With those 2 combined, I burnt out pretty quick LOL. Specifically, I had a big perfectionism issue because of the high expectations I had from my teacher and especially myself -- it was the one thing I knew excelled at in school, so I better do it well! After I was done with the novel and A levels, I was supposed to edit the novel. It's been years and I haven't done it yet, and I wouldn't write non-assignment stories (except 2) until now. Writing became more nerverwracking than it was fun, so why would I?

To get back to the PBP thing: I've been in a campaign that was fully PBP. With my mindset being the way it is, hey! This is just one big writing exercise, so I ran along with that and had fun with it. I saw how some players would make their own PBP and essentially monologue/have a scene only with their PC. That was cool to see.

And now, my current Delta Green campaign (tagged 'Helvetia'). Hrothgar (guy in drawing) and his kids were ported over from a previous D&D campaign (the fully PBP one!), so the crew had a very well defined background already. Of course I get tons of drawing ideas for them, except I don't have the time to draw them all (compsci hard). But since the server has a PBP section, I had like 2 weeks to kill between session 0 and 1, and I was bursting with ideas... I made a lot of solo PBPs that were essentially short stories.

It didn't quite hit me until some time ago, but the PBPs actually made me enjoy writing again -- enjoy it a lot more, in fact! I think the format of Discord threads and messages removed most perfectionism tendencies I had. I just had to fire the story away, message by message. It didn't have to be amazing, and it was fun! (Also I really don't know how to shut up with them LOL)

I'll definitely be cleaning these PBPs up and posting them here as stories. Some of them are just silly, fun, slice-of-life character sketches. (These were the stories I wrote after my novel... and yes, they were about my other set of Delta Green characters LMAO) (and I've posted them here under pawsedswrite btw!) But some I see as legitamite short stories that I would edit more heavily and present as a short story. They were the kinds I could see myself writing on a document rather than on Discord.

Well, I lied. 'I would edit' is false. I have already edited one, because I spent like 5-6h writing this one PBP (oops) instead of writing the draft for my short story class/elective (oops 2). I joked to my two friends saying that I could just submit it as my assignment. Apparently, they both really liked it and said the dialogued slapped. So I did!

I procrastinated like hell on it though, because I was very nervous to go back into the PBP with an axe to edit it. Being in a writing class where nearly everyone else has been formally studying writing for some years kinda puts some pressure on ya!

Like the last assignment (which I'll post here after editing), I had a lot of worries. But the feedback and grade I got from my last assignment, the peer review I got from the current one, and also the support from those two friends (shoutout @katastrofish <3) made me feel more confident in myself. And also the fact that I had a lot of fun editing the PBP!

Uhhh this ramble was way longer than expected LMFAO if you've made it this far, damn, thanks for reading! If you also write or have similar experiences, feel free to share em. And have a good day!

(bonus POV editing)

[faybellesbeauty]

Top ships + hcs?

for my top ships?? Briar/Faybelle, Blondie/Cupid, Kitty/Cerise and basically any other sapphic ship lol (also middle school Briar/Ashlynn, might elaborate on that at some point)

top hcs is gonna be a tough one… i have a folder with 889 eah headcanons oops (i’ll do separate posts for each character / ship soon me thinks)

but heres a couple of my favourite general eah school ones!!

• All of the students have a massive playlist that anyone can add songs to and they listen to it 247. Some teachers even allow it to be background noise in class. It was originally made because they knew they would have to split up eventually due to their destinies.

• Apple and Darling were the first nmlnm couple to come out publicly, and after them everyone else finally got the confidence as well. It was a mass coming out so bad Blondie’s blog crashed completely with the amount of shocked students.

• The wonderlandians have always been kind of ”outcasts” in the eyes of everyone else. It was a huge deal when Raven became friends with Maddie and so on until their friend groups merged together.

• Wonderlandians are theatre / art kids. Argue with a wall.

• They regularly have playdates with the dragons even when they grow up.

• There’s a secret room somewhere that only the students know about, and it’s made for calming down. The reason teacher’s haven’t found out about it is because there’s a carefully planned system for it. Any student can go there almost at any time of the day and they can paint, listen to music, study, gossip, sleep or whatever helps them relax.

• Sometimes they cause drama to distract teachers so they can have their own parties, meetings and to live teenage life in general. Teachers? They always fall for it.

• At some point Apple felt bad for always messing with the teachers so they also have a staff appreciation day every once in a while. The teachers have no idea why it happens so randomly and why everyone is suddenly trying their best.

aandd thats it for my favourites. there’s a million of these as well, but i need to rewatch the series for more accurate / specific ones (it’s been well over a year since i’ve actually watched it)

[dimonds456-art]

@doodle-girl

Gordon and Benrey fusion! I don't have a name for them yet, but here they are!

Uhh while I was drawing all this, I may or may not have accidentally created an entire AU out of this concept oops. AU info below the cut

Both Benrey and Gordon are awake within and argue constantly

About 8 ft tall, can shapeshift a little but not a lot

Gordon's glasses, facial hair, eyebrows, ears, and hair length

Benrey's eyes, shadow, nose shape, messy hair, and face shape

Gordon's body type plus Benrey's chubbiness

Tends to be nervous a lot

Infodumps about video games constantly

ADHD + Autism = NEURODIVERGENCE: EXTREME

There should be alt text for those who need it, and my askbox should be open now, lol.

Uhh while I was drawing all this, I may or may not have accidentally created an entire AU out of this concept oops. AU info below the cut!

This one takes place post-canon. Bubby continued working on projects, and is now testing a machine. He didn't say anything about what it was supposed to do, insisting it would be a surprise, and brought the whole gang here.

The thing malfunctioned and fused Gordon and Benrey together.

They now have to wait for Bubby to fix the machine (which I imagine takes about a month) and they're stuck like this the whole time.

Basically, this AU became an excuse to character study lol

Both Benrey and Gordon are extremely depressed in different, unique ways, and feel guilt in different, unique ways. They also think the other hates them, so that's fun. The AU would be about them coming to understand each other and help each other heal and grow. It's a long, slow process, but they are on the right road by the time they switch back.

((Bubby's machine was supposed to be a body swapper so he could be young again, but got a stern talking to from Dr Coomer and dropped the project after the whole fusion debacle))

[frasier-crane-style]

Strange New Worlds season 2

-Feels like they overdid it with the silly episodes? Just my taste, but the Oops! All Silly episodes should be a sometimes food, and they have just about every other episode being silly. Serious, silly, serious, silly. I get comic relief, but this isn't a very heavy show. If we're going to have a quip machine like Ortegas, do we then need to do a whole episode of that, and often?

-Sam Kirk is Sir Not-Appearing-In-This-Episode.

-The fact that these characters are destined to end up at TOS makes some of the wokening stuff hilarious.

Christine Chapel in her Twenties: I don't do relationships. Let's keep things casual. I have so many fuckbuddies lol.

Christine Chapel in her Thirties: Y U NO MARRY ME SPOCK?

Which probably wasn't their intent, but it's hard not to read that into this show and TOS supposedly being the same people.

-Also, they have literally twice as many women in the main cast as men, which is a good hint at how Hollywood really sees 'gender equality.'

Not pictured: Carol Kane

-I'm just saying, they have this episode Among The Lotus Eaters. One plot ends with Ortegas triumphantly declaring "I pilot the Enterprise!" The other plot ends with Pike apologizing to his overbearing girlfriend for having concerns about their relationship (when obviously their relationship is in wonderful shape when him voicing concerns about them as a couple results in her freezing him out and Pike having to beg for her forgiveness).

-The whole Human Spock episode is cringe. First, in premise. Could you imagine if they did an episode where a biracial member of the crew was changed to be fully black and he immediately started eating ribs and listening to hip-hop? This in the same season that did the most bald-faced minority metaphor imaginable with Augments. Not to mention the obligatory trans rights episode last season where we were supposed to buy that Spock was 'outside the human/vulcan binary' or something. Nope! It's absolutely possible to turn the dial to 100% Human or Vulcan.

I don't know, it's trying to be a character study of Spock, but it's trying way harder to be a "look at Spock do funny things" episode and it ends up feeling just kinda pointless. They themselves mention that Vulcan emotions are stronger than human emotions, so a Human Spock should be even better at controlling himself, but he just isn't for reasons. Wouldn't it be more interesting if Spock became fully Vulcan... something he occasionally seems like he would desire... which paradoxically strengthened his emotions and made them more difficult to control?

It's hard to invest in this Spock as a character when the show's basically telling you he doesn't matter as a person, they're just going to write him in whatever way gets a laugh.

-Call me hard to please, but it'd be nice to have a few arcs. I'm not saying I want one of those 'ten hour movies' like Picard and Discovery do, but even TNG had ongoing plots like the Borg, Lore, the Crystalline Entity, the House of Duras. I'm not asking for this show to go as lore-heavy as DS9 or ENT, but I would like a little more of an ongoing storyline than the Spock/T'Pring/Chapel love triangle. And we all know where that will end up, unless they're going to tell us that sometime after Undiscovered Country, Spock and Christine decided to make it official. You know, now that they're both as old as Carol Kane.

[redisaid]

Oh hi there...

This is a pinned post. 

I’m Redisaid. You’re probably here for fan fiction, which I’ve written too much of. If you’re not, then please enjoy me reblogging other people being funny.

Right now, I primarily write fics for WLW pairings in the Warcraft/World of Warcraft fandom, but sometimes go outside of that. If you’d like to see all of my work, check me out on Ao3, or look at my fic tag.

Current WIPs:

Beneath the Blue Moon - Sylvaina community choice fic

The Weight of the Crown - Sylvaina Third War era AU, where Jaina married Arthas and became the Queen of Lordaeron at a relatively young age. Going to be a sad one, so please avoid if that’s not for you.

Strangers - Sylvaina post-Shadowlands AU, where Jaina has been tasked by Vereesa with delivering her letters to Sylvanas while she does her penance in the Maw.

Equanimity - Valadrin Professor AU (vaguely related to Inevitability), and yes, still in progress, I promise

All the Times You Prayed - Valadrin smut/feels series, which yes, does have a current work in progress, believe it or not

You might know me from:

Do No Harm - Mercymaker. I gave Overwatch lore back in 2017 when it had even less lore, but made it gay.

Two Rooms - Sylvaina. I said I wouldn’t write Sylvaina. Gave up three days later and wrote one of the first batch of Political Marriage AUs.

Falling - Sylvaina. I said I didn’t like Jaina Proudmoore. Wrote a character study on her that goes through Warcraft 3 canonically, but makes her gay for Sylvanas. Oops all tragedy. But now I tolerate Jaina Proudmoore. Please don’t complain to me about the sad ending.

In Good Company - Sylvaina. I made up for writing a sad fic by writing a massive mostly happy fic to give the gays what they want. Also to give myself lots of elves.

Vintage - Sylvaina. Me and the bestie UninspiredPoet wrote a very long modern AU because we both love 70s music.

Consequences - Sylvaina. Kids, question your judgement when you start thinking “Well, if I had to write a magic baby AU--like if someone had a gun pointed to my head, not that I’d really do it--I’d do it THIS way.” Because then you’ll do it and be known for it. I hated this fic so much that I wrote a sequel to it.

Fearless - Sylvaina. My favorite thing I’ve ever written is about a witch who fucks the ghost haunting her house, because I’m that kind of Halloween bitch. Fight me.

I also wrote a whole lot of other, smaller, lesser known things.

[nostalgiaclown]

So the issue with creating my Rook/Veilguard OCs so ahead of release time is the backstories they have given us are very specific... I have already deluded enough to craft my own possible backstories- so now they will be reworked into AUs, anyway, here's Holly Monett 🦋✨️

Lore dump below...🦋🫶

She's an alchemist, in her late 30s, who was born in Orlais.

Black hair and bright blue eyes (she has her mothers eyes), prominent dark circles. Olive tone skin(?), lot's of beauty marks. Petite frame, short.

Blue moth/butterfly as her character motif. This theme will be prominent in her armour/outfit design.

Her mother (Edith Monet) was Orlesian, and her father (Marcus) Nevarran.

She moved back to Nevarra with her Papa when her Maman passed away from a rare terminal illness.

She learnt alchemy from her mom. She became highly skilled in her craft, able to cultivate and gather ingredients to make an aray of tonics, toxins, poisons, and explosives. She continued her mothers work (trying to make a cure for the same sickness that took her life, yaay), so that she lives on in their hearts and memories. (Poor Papa was not okay tm).

She's a Rogue(?) Mainly using deadly poison coated daggers and throw this vial at the enemy and see what happens style.

Holly never fully processed her grief, too focused on making sure her Papa was okay.

Holly has unrealistic expectations for what love should feel like. She's never felt it before (she came close once), not in the way her father describes it. (Girl, watch out that old man gonna make you feel so loved)

She ended up (kind of) joining the Mourn Watch after she sent a letter in, requesting to join on one of the excursions deep into the Necropolis, particularly interested in the flora and fauna she would be able to acquire and study down there (idk man I've not looked into any lore accuracies yet, I'm just having fun).

Emmrich took an interest in her work, passion clearly coming through in her writing, and agreed to let her come along despite his peers' protests. They made for quick friends, the chemistry between them apparent. (You know when u meet ur soulmate, yeah)

She then stayed within the Necropolis after that and helped with the preservation and organisation of the dead.

She would then occasionally be assigned to other expeditions with him, both finding different excuses to see each other while working within the Necropolis. (TeeHee)

Fun bits:

She has a stuffed rabbit simply called 'petit lapin' she has trouble sleeping without.

She likes to climb up high on things, like a cat, then she can't get down.

---

So, this is my little world where my 'canon' Rook is going to be her Cousin, Robert - he would be the one to drag her along into staying at the lighthouse, aiding them with her tonics and the like.

I'll no doubt switch it up when the game comes out but, I always end up making NPC OCs rather than main characters, oops.

I'll make more posts talking more abt Holly's parents and her Cousin.

Oh and... Claude Delecroix, he's fun 💕