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melancholyhigh · 3 months

Text

CRUSH CULTURE.

ft. college au!leon x reader

synopsis. you fuck up at being leon’s wingman, ruining his chances of getting a valentine’s day fuck. he’s frustrated and takes his anger out on you.

tags. 2.8k words. smut. mean!leon, lowk angsty, reader is kinda pathetic, angry fuck, dry humping, cunnilingus, dom!leon, rough sex, unprotected p in v, degradation, name calling (bitch, whore etc.), happy ending (?).

note. i’m sorry for being so inactive and rarely being online. school sucks so bad. i hope you guys can accept this as a formal apology. (let’s ignore that this is 2 days late.)

masterlist. reblogs & comments are highly welcomed :3

You aren’t the biggest fan of Valentine’s Day. You're sick of seeing everyone fall in love, watching lovers exchange cheesy gifts and bashful smiles. You’re sick of people pretending they love each other more than they actually do. No, you’re sick of being left out.

You were a hopeless romantic, chasing love only for it to fall flat. You were obsessed with finding your other half, the person who would cherish you as much as you treasured them. You didn’t know if you loved love or just the idea of it, but it wouldn’t matter.

You’re only hopeless as you help the man you liked hook up with someone at a shitty college party.

It’s pathetic, truly, chatting up some sorority girls and putting a good name out for Leon while he stood beside you. You didn’t get why he couldn’t do it himself. He was handsome, albeit a bit awkward, but so were you. It’s why you two got along anyway. Leon was watching as you tried to get the drunk girl’s attention on him. Throughout the night, your wingman skills had only failed. They either did not pay attention to you or paid too much attention to you.

You were sick of it. You would have preferred staying in your dorm room and rewatching one of your favourite rom-coms. But you were only a fool, trying to help your friend out. It hurt more being there with him as he lamely tried to pick up girls in front of you. You didn’t know what was more pathetic, his terrible jokes or the state you were, absolutely heartbroken that he wouldn’t give you the time of day he’d give to random girls.

Maybe it’s faith’s cruel way of commentating on your desire for love by making you play cupid for the only person you seem to care about more than yourself.

You and Leon had something special, or you had hoped so. You met in your first year of college. You were both fucking awkward that you had to initiate the first conversation. Majoring in similar subjects, you both had gotten along well. You would even say you were best friends, but you knew deep down you always wanted more.

Ever since you first met, you found him enthralling. It only got worse as you got closer. Learning more about him seemed to solidify your pining for him. You were the only person he talked to, and vice versa. You confided in each other, maybe more than what close friends should, so it was only inevitable that he would share with you that he wanted to lose his virginity.

You had looked at him perplexed. Leon was pretty attractive, and maybe you were biased, but how had no one fucked him? You’ve seen the way girls look at him, blushing when he even glances at them for a second.

That is when Leon told you he planned on trying to hook up with some girl at the party, and he wanted your help because he knew he would fuck up somehow. You had humoured him. Nothing more romantic than taking a random girl home on Valentine’s Day and fucking her brains out.

–-

“It’s not that serious, Leon,” you groaned for the umpteenth time. You were both walking back to his apartment after unsuccessfully trying to hook him up with some sorority girl. He was grumbling behind you, pissed and sexually frustrated.

“It was your fault.” You roll your eyes at his statement. When you reach the door of his flat, you observe as he clumsily takes his keys out, trying to open the door. He finally manages to open the door, and you enter, taking your shoes off before settling on his couch.

You watch him beyond amused at his predicament as he paces back and forth in front of you.

“Why did you have to mention that? They were so into me before you fucked it up,” he huffs, stilling his movement to glare at you.

“C’mon, Leon. I’m sure they couldn’t give a fuck that you’re a nerd,” you said, repeating the same word you had let slip when you were praising your beloved best friend. You peered back up at him, acting casual as if his icy gaze didn’t have your heart beating wildly against your chest. You rarely saw him angry, and when he was, he never directed it to you.

“You ruined my chances at finally getting laid. I don’t know how to talk to these girls. You’re the only person I have.” He’s frustrated with you for fucking up whatever chance he finally had at popping his cherry. Even though logically it’s not your fault nor your duty to get his dick wet, he didn’t want to take responsibility right now.

“I think you’re overreacting,” you sighed, standing up and moving towards him. You try to put a comforting hand on Leon’s shoulder, and he shrugs your touch off him. You don’t take it to heart. He’s a few inches taller than you, head slightly tilted as he looks down at you.

“Yeah? Well, now I have no one to fuck tonight.”

“I can change that,” you quip, and you instantly freeze at your own statement. You part your lips lightly in shock as you observe Leon’s reaction. It was a freudian slip, and it seemed to be happening more often than you’d like.

He continues looking down at you with furrowed brows as he tries to comprehend what you said. He thinks this might affect your friendship if you even mean what you said. He was horny, being teased all night by pretty girls in skimpy dresses, only to be denied, fucking furious too.

“Really?” He responds, somehow stepping closer to you. His eyes flicker down to your lips, and you try to back up, only to be pushed against the wall by him. His stare is still cold, piercing through you. He’s still pissed at you.

“Are you still mad?” You mumbled, your back flat against the wall of his living room. You knew the answer. You just wanted him to say it. Maybe you found his mean side more attractive than you’d like to admit. It was so rare to see him like this — a usually composed man so broken.

“Yes, I’m still fucking angry. Do you want me or not?” He seethes. You squeeze your thighs together at the tone he uses. You were so pathetic, getting wet at him berating you, but any attention was good attention.

He notices your reaction, grinning to himself. “You backing down?”

You shake your head no in response.

“Beg for it then. Beg for me to fuck you. That’s what you want, right?” He says, mocking you. It’s as if he knows how deep your desire burns for him, how badly you’d do anything for him if it meant he noticed you. His hands grasp your face, his fingers squishing your cheeks together as he forces your head back against the wall so you look up at him.

“Please, Leon. Fuck me. ‘M all yours.” You plead through pursed lips. Your eyes are glossy, and he’s laughing at your desperate nature. He would have never expected his best friend to be a whiny mess within his grasp.

He lets go of your face before leaning down, capturing your lips into his for a needy kiss. Your eyes flutter shut, and a surprised gasp escapes you. Teeth clashing, you’re whimpering desperately against his lips as you entangle your fingers into his soft golden locks. His hands trail down to your hips, gripping them as he moves his body against yours.

You let out a soft moan, and he pulled apart from the passionate kiss. Both your lips are swollen and covered with your shared saliva. He continues to grope your body eagerly as he pushes you further into the wall. “Shut up. I don’t want to hear you.”

Biting your lip, you try not to let any moans slip free while he toys with your sensitive body through your clothes. He hooks one of your legs over his hip while he explores your body. He grinds his hardening cock against your crotch, and the action does little to quell the ache inside you.

Your back arches off the wall, your head tipping back as you try to buck your hips to his. Digging your nails into his shirt, he hisses slightly, but your movements don’t get past him.

“So fucking desperate,” he moans loudly.

He continues to rock his clothed erection against your cunt. The rough fabric of your pants provides enough friction through your damp underwear to your clit. Your hand clamps around your mouth shut, suppressing your whines as you near your climax.

Leon’s eyes close while he groans lowly at the pleasure coursing through him as he ruts against you. He wants so badly to feel your dripping cunt against his throbbing length. Just as you’re about to finish, he pulls away, panting, and the feeling in your core dissipates.

“I want to fuck you properly.” You’re unsure if he knew what he had just done, but with the smug look he’s giving you, you’re positive it’s on purpose.

You push yourself off the wall of his living room, and with trembling legs, you follow him to his bedroom. You were familiar with the area and used to the messy appearance while you two were either doing work or binging shows. But it’s different now, he’s going to fuck you dumb in it.

You both begin to rid yourself of your clothes once you’re inside. You’re fully nude, lying flat on Leon’s mattress, and your skin feels tacky with sweat as it clings to his soft sheets. Leon is only in his boxers, precum staining the fabric, as his strong palms spread your bent legs apart to admire your bare pussy.

You realise that this is most likely his first time seeing one other than in porn videos he jerks himself off to. He marvels at how wet you are, your folds glistening with your slick. Leaning down, he buries his face between your thighs, lapping at you.

His tongue teases your entrance before slowly moving to your clit. He alternates between sucking on your sensitive nub and lapping at it slowly. He looks like he’s concentrated as he focuses on pleasing your cunt, his brows furrowed and his nails digging into the flesh of your thighs.

You can’t help the moans and sighs that slip past your lips while he eats you out. The pleasure is nearly dizzying as you grip the sheets. Your hips are bucking against his tongue, and Leon groans as you use his face. He’s not so subtly grinding against the sheets, his cock painfully hard as he fails to relieve the sensation.

Tentatively, he slurps at you, drinking in your essence. The wet, sloppy noises your cunt makes are embarrassing, but he’s obsessed with it and your taste. It’s addictive. He sucks at your clit roughly, adoring the reaction you give him. Your tummy clenches as he pays attention to your throbbing bud. Your sounds are getting more frequent as your orgasm quickly approaches you.

When you finally come undone, your thighs are quivering around his head as he revels in your release. He parts from your cunt, his lips coated in your cum like lip gloss as he licks them clean. Trying to collect yourself, your chest heaves as you pant heavily.

Leon slips his boxers down, revealing his hard-on. His cock was flushed red and dripping with precum as he stroked it. It was average in length but quite thick and prettier than you had imagined. But you shouldn’t act surprised.

You let out a whimper when he slid the tip of his cock through your folds stained with your cum and his saliva. Your pussy was overstimulated, spasming as he teased your entrance with his head.

“Shut the fuck up, bitch,” he groans, gripping your hip to steady himself. The heat of your cunt was welcoming as it tried to suck him inside you. His tip touches your overly sensitive clit. He was quickly losing his composure, desperate to fuck you open.

You both moan simultaneously when he fully enters his length inside of you. Your walls were sucking his cock deeping into you, filling you up to the brim with nothing but him.

You had not imagined your first time with Leon like this. You daydreamed of him taking you out on a cute date before undressing you and then fucking you slowly on a bed littered with rose petals. You did not anticipate that he’d split you open on his cock as a last resort taking his sexual frustration out on you. You can’t complain with how good he’s fucking you, even if it’s out of spite.

He begins thrusting his cock in and out of tight pussy, groaning. You feel each ridge and vein of his cock as he fucks the shape into you. You sometimes forget how well-built he is, usually concealed by his clothes, sweat dripping down his muscular frame.

“Your cock feels so fuckin’ good, Leon,” you gasped out loud, your nails digging into his biceps as he stretched you out of his fat cock.

“This was your plan, huh? You wanted me to fuck you, whore.” He says as he punctuates each word with a thrust.

Your eyes roll to the back of your head as the tip of his cock presses against you deliciously. You did want him all to yourself, but you wouldn’t go as far as to sabotage him. You’re unable to answer him, too drunk on his cock bullying into that one spot inside of you.

“Answer me, bitch.” He huffs, gripping your jaw and positioning your face to his. He looks into your eyes only to note how they can barely stay open. His hips stutter at your fucked out expression. He was so fucking close, his abs flexing, only holding out so you can cum first.

“Y- Yeah, Leon. Want to you all for myself,” you stammer incoherently, tears collecting at your waterline as he pounds into your oversensitive cunt. Your walls grip around his cock sporadically as you near your climax.

“You like me too, then?” he mocks through clenched teeth. Your pussy hugs him tightly, and he thinks he might never want to leave your warm embrace.

“I’m so close,” you cry out, your body squirming in his hold. Your peak was rapidly approaching as he continued his assault on your pussy.

“Answer the question then you can come,” he whines, his fingers digging into the flesh of your hips, leaving marks as he nears his peak.

“Mhm! Yes, I’ve always fucking liked you, Leon.” You cried out, eager to expose all your secrets to him if it meant you came. As you climax, your pussy milks Leon’s cock as it gushes around him.

“Oh fuck. I’m gonna cum,” Leon moans, his voice breathy as his orgasm crashes after yours. He doesn’t know if it’s the weight of your confession or the whimpers that escape your throat that send butterflies in him as he spills into you. He kisses you one last time, moaning into you as he rides his high.

Pulling out, he collapses right next to you. You’re both panting, covered in cum and sweat. A wave of exhaustion overcomes you, and you hope he doesn’t bring up what you said amidst fucking. You’re content pretending it didn’t happen if it meant you wouldn’t get to face your fears.

“Thank you for uh,” Leon trails off, and it's like a switch flipped. He’s bashful at mentioning that he had just lost his virginity as if he wasn’t calling you a whore a few minutes ago. Turning to his side, you come nearly face-to-face with him once again.

“Mhm, you’re welcome, I think.” You’re still unsure how you feel about the situation. Finally, you had fucked him, but what significance did it hold to him? Your eyes flutter shut, sleep finally overcoming your wrecked body. You expected the same would happen to Leon, but you were wrong. Leon was in deep thought.

Leon calls your name, cutting your sleep short. You snap your eyes open, sitting up, you await his question with your arms crossed. He looked uneasy, but you’re too drained to question why.

“Did you mean what you said? That you liked me.” His voice is quiet as he gazes at your form.

“Uh, yeah,” you mumbled in response. What was even the point of lying anymore? His cum was dripping between your thighs. What is the worst he can do? You think you can already guess his response. Guilt was eating at you. He wouldn’t be in this position if you did what he wanted. You added, “Sorry for fucking up your night.”

It’s quiet, and you’re nervously trying to gauge his reaction until he breaks the silence.

“I think I found someone better,” he responds. You laugh at the mere absurdity of the entire situation.

“It took fucking me to find that out?”

“Shut the fuck up.”

#leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy #leon kennedy smut #gender neutral reader #resident evil 4 #resident evil #re4 smut #idk how to do conclusions #✩‧₊˚ fics

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ohnoitstbskyen · 4 months

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Often when people talk about appearance of characters in media, especially that of women, some use an argument along the lines of "Why would I want to look at someone ugly in the games I play/shows I watch/etc.?"

From what I saw, and if I'm not wrong, you prefer to not engage with that kind of argument, but if you absolutely had to, what answer would you give that could have a chance to make those people see and maybe agree with your point?

I mean, the reason why I wouldn't engage with that argument is that it is always, universally, without exception, an argument made in bad faith, by people who are lying when they utter it. And it takes only the briefest examination of reality to determine this.

The argument they pretend to make is that "there is no reason to desire things that are not pleasurable in entertainment," in response to which I present The Concept Of Horror Media, or the success of Jackass, or South Park, or literally any subversive prank show, or sports as a concept, or the genre of tragedy, or the phenomenon of people rubbernecking. I present true crime podcasts and biographies of John Wayne Gacy and Mortal Kombat fatalities, I present unflinchingly earnest documentaries about war and disease, I present cringe comedy, I present the entire online media genre of pimple popper videos.

Human beings desire so much more than beauty, so much more than aesthetic pleasure (and indeed we can take aesthetic pleasure in so much more than beauty). We find entertainment in disgust, horror, fear, revulsion, sorrow, embarrassment, pain and, yes, "ugliness" all the time, and we have done for as long as we have had sentient minds to entertain.

So this argument "why would I want to look at someone ugly in a video game" is simply a lie. It is an argument made in bad faith by people whom I will guarantee you against a bet of real money constantly look at things which are "ugly" for entertainment.

It is a lie, it is a stupid lie, and while I'm sure that many or most of the people who peddle that lie don't realize they are lying when they do it, it remains a lie which isn't worth dignifying with a response.

And anyway, 99% of the time they don't mean "ugly" they mean "woman who I don't find fuckable" or they mean "fat" or they mean "trans" or they mean "queer" or "non-white," they mean someone or some thing which falls into a category which they feel entitled to hate, and they are trying to enforce the normality of that hate.

You cannot logic someone out of a position they didn't logic themselves in to, and there is very rarely anything you can say to these people to make them reconsider. They are reacting emotionally, they are reacting on the impulse towards disgust and hatred, and they will rationalize a lie to excuse it.

#beauty culture

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anachronistic-falsehood · 5 months

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i. don’t really know what to think about the whole forever situation. because i have seen people say “he’s addressed this a long time ago so why are we bringing it up” but i haven’t seen WHERE he’s addressed it in the past. nary a tweet or clip of anywhere he may have talked about it, but i would love to see an older clip of him talking about this if possible

I’ve seen people say “his tweets and messages were translated in bad faith to give english speakers a bad perception” which. ok yeah understandable but if that’s the case i still don’t know what exactly the situation is or how serious it is

“she was 13” “she was 15” OK WHICH IS IT!!! both are bad but one is still significantly grosser than the other and i don’t know which is true!! or are there multiple girls!!! i don’t know!!!

“he met a fan for flirtatious/sexual reasons” “he met a fan for normal content creator reasons” WHICH IS IT!!!! I DON’T KNOW!!! i guess only he and the fan would know what the intent was when they met, and even then i don’t know if they met alone or if it was a normal ass fan meetup with multiple other people there

“it’s been 7-8 years, he’s changed” ok. now we are making some sense. he has not exhibited this kind of behaviour in years it seems and he appears to be the kind of person who would not say or do these things now. no one is irredeemable and no one is beyond change. still, it is important for some people to know. many fans would rather know this and make the educated choice on whether to support him or not than continue to support him in blind blissful ignorance. even though it’s stressing me out and i’m still clueless about a lot of it, i’m glad i know anyway.

“what about the past transphobia and the ableism and the and the and the-” That Is Not Relevant To This Conversation. this is a different situation. he has apologized for his past opinions and everyone has had ample time to come to terms with them and make peace with supporting him despite his past beliefs.

“he’s deleting past tweets” i mean if someone was digging around my account for things i’ve said that i no longer stand by, i would delete shit too. sure as hell doesn’t make him look innocent but i would do the same. i HAVE done the same, albeit for much more minor and trivial reasons for posts i made when i was like 15, but still

“he apologized and said he’s getting a lawyer!! no guilty person would do that!!” your content creator is not an angel. guilty people take their accusers to court all the time and get away with it. also, it is up to everyone individually to decide whether to believe him or not. you cannot push others to believe your side but you can give context to some things

there’s nuance to this like there is with everything, and people are jumping to conclusions saying either “he’s an innocent little lamb how dare you!” or “he should be deplatformed and we should never speak of him again!” i will never fault anyone for supporting the alleged victim. if your decision is to stop watching him immediately or even stop supporting the qsmp itself, no one should ever fault you for that. it is ultimately up to you to make that decision. the situation is not clear enough for me to make a decision, so i will withhold judgement for now. i will not doompost about it, and i will not call out people for defending or dropping him.

but for the love of god, just. everybody keep your cool. especially english speakers, we may not have full proper translations for the messages and tweets. take a deep breath. if you want to find more info to form an opinion now and spread information that people don’t already have, go ahead. if you want to step back and not think about it for now, go ahead. there is no shame in taking a step back and thinking about other things. you are not morally obligated to be invested in this situation. you are not morally obligated to drop him immediately and you are also not morally obligated to keep supporting him just because he’s friends with your favs. stick to your gut and do what you feel is right. you will be okay. this is not the end of the world.

#qsmp #forever situation

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badasgirl · 7 months

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accidentally fell in love

bada lee x fem!reader

──⭒─⭑─⭒────⭒─⭑─⭒── ──⭒─⭑─⭒────⭒─⭑─⭒──

when you’re in love with your best friend who constantly goes on date after date, what do you do? what if that best friend also happens to be oblivious as can be?

genre: fluff, angst (my bad), suggestive, best friends to lovers

warnings: oblivious!bada x jealous!reader, bada calls reader her princess, some tension, suggestive with a makeout scene towards the end, no caps on purpose (booo ik terrible grammar).

author’s note: this was not proofread so please be easy on me. anyways, yayyy! i am finally back after a while 🤭 rewriting this made me cry so it took a while and the finale made me really emotional (i still am emotional LMAO) so i ended up pushing this back. thank you for being patient! i hope you all enjoy!

word count: ~3.2k

──⭒─⭑─⭒────⭒─⭑─⭒── ──⭒─⭑─⭒────⭒─⭑─⭒──

you and bada lee have been best friends since one faithful day in middle school. it was a simple mistake really, you had forgotten a pencil for an exam and the teacher refused to give you one. you had to take the exam or else you could possibly fail the class. you had began to tear up and panic as the exam was about to begin and there was no pencil insight for you. luckily amidst your panic, the tall girl behind you tapped your shoulder and quickly snuck you a pencil to use. since that day, you vowed to be by her side and be her best friend forever.

and trust me, since that day you never left each other’s sides. you two were inseparable. you both were now in your final year of university and of course you shared an apartment together. bada majored in dance and you majored in art, specifically focusing in photography. naturally, a lot of the photos you took included bada, she was like your muse. if you ever needed to do a last minute project, she was always down to help. for bada, you too were like her muse for dance, but in a different way. whenever she had difficulties creating or finishing a choreography, she had to see you. she claimed that just by seeing you, you cleared her foggy mind and gave her so much inspiration. how could someone not fall for her? you did.

unfortunately for you, you were deeply in love with your best friend. in fact, she was your lesbian awakening in high school. you knew she liked anyone regardless of gender, however she never seemed to show interest in you at all. well, never directly.

recently, she was always going on dates with guys and coming back home complaining to you. today was one of those days. you were laying down on the couch in your pajama shorts and your (bada’s) t-shirt, watching something on your phone when bada entered the apartment with a loud sigh. she kicked off her shoes and threw her bag on the floor before taking her tall body and laying on top of you, basically smothering you.

“bada, what happened? also you’re crushing me” you said as you tried to push her off you slightly. the girl just snuggled into you more before loudly whining like a kicked puppy.

“princess, it was so terrible. he was sooo full of himself.” bada said tiredly. “he acted like he was doing me a favor by going on a date! i was the one doing him a favor if anything!” she complained passionately as she finally sat up a bit, just to give you enough room to sit up and hold the big human-sized puppy in your lap.

you patted her head softly as you said “bada, i have told you to stop going on every single date that someone asks you out on. especially this guy, seojun is a literal known asshole.”

the tall girl sighed knowing you were right. “i know, but i thought maybe it was just gossip you know? god, i wish these guys were like you y/n…so sweet and caring, never full of themselves. if they were like you, they’d be perfect. i’d immediately fall for them and make them mine.”

you blushed slightly but your heart broke at the same time. you slightly balled up your fists out of jealousy, but bada didn’t notice. you honestly hated hearing about your best friend’s dates. not only did they make you jealous, but bada always said if they were more like you she’d actually date them. “what does she even mean by that?” is something you’ve always wondered. if you’re so perfect for her, why won’t she date you?

you pushed your feelings aside as you smiled at bada and tapped her thigh signaling her to get up. “bada, you’ll find someone perfect for you, trust me. you just need to give it time and going on every date possible won’t help you.” you told her sincerely as you both got up from the couch.

bada nodded in agreement with you before pulling you in a hug. she rested her head atop yours before placing a soft kiss on your forehead. “thank you y/n, you’re right. what would i do without you, my best friend.” she smiled at you before taking her bag from the floor and heading to her room to get ready for bed.

however, all you could do was just stand there in the middle of the living room. of course, you were friendzoned time and time again. you hated how bada could make you feel like you were only person she wanted or needed one second and then remind you of your place the next. you let a few tears fall down your face before quickly wiping them and going to your room to sulk over being stuck in the friendzone.

────────────────────────────────────────────

the next day was definitely one of the shittiest days you’ve had in a while. to begin, you overslept and missed your first class because you were up all night thinking about bada and how much it hurt your heart to see her with shitty people and not you. then if that wasn’t enough, you spilled your energy drink all over your computer in the middle of your second class. fortunately for you, it wasn’t damaged. however, there was nothing to clean it with in the class and the closest bathroom had no paper towels to wipe it clean with. you were running out of time to make it to your last class, so you had to end up carrying a sticky computer in your bag halfway across campus so wouldn’t be late. then to top everything off, when you finally went to one of the dining halls after your last class, they ran out of the one meal you like there. you sat in defeat at one of the tables with arms on the table and your head resting on your arms.

bada currently had 20 minutes before her next practice started up, so she decided to head to the dining hall. she figured you’d also be there after a long day of classes, she knew your schedule like the back of her hand. bada spotted you at one of the tables with your head down, she immediately went over and patted your head softly.

your head lifted up slowly and your eyes met hers. “hey sleepyhead, why are you napping here?” bada asked grinning at you as she sat down next to you.

you sighed and fixed your hair. “i’m not napping, just drained” was all you could really say. you didn’t really feel like explaining the whole timeline of events that occurred. bada nodded her head in response before giggling to herself.

you looked at her with a confused face. “what’s so funny?” you asked her curiously.

“nothing really, it’s just i’m going on the blind date later after practice and i think the guy might be daehyun! you know the guy from your major.” bada explained while chuckling about thinking of going on a date with a fairly popular guy you know due to being in the same major and working together before.

this was your last straw. not only had you had a very terrible day, but now bada’s going on another date. you guess nothing you said last night mattered to her at all. you felt as if you don’t matter to her at all. you had began to accept being friendzoned, but now she’s completely ignoring what you tell her? what will happen when she starts actually dating someone, will she just ignore you all together?

tears brimmed your eyes as you quickly got up from the table and harshly grabbed your bag. you looked at her, your voice unsteady before saying “i don’t care, do what you want. have fun on your date bada, don’t bother complaining about it to me later because i’m not listening anymore.”

you walked off before bada could register what was even happening. she stood up once she finally realized what was going on and went to look for you, however you had walked far enough away for her to not see you anymore. she immediately pulled out her phone to text you.

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you made your way back to your shared apartment, crying your eyes out on the way home. “why are you so emotional? were you too hard on bada?” were the things you thought of on your walk back home. once you reached the complex, you quickly made it to your unit and went inside. all you could manage to do was take your shoes off before slowly walking over to your room, throwing your bag to the side, and flopping face first onto your bed. you curled up in a ball and cried your eyes out again. every insecurity you had about your friendship with bada came to the surface. even if she didn’t love you romantically, how could she just ignore your advice time after time if you’re her supposed best friend. how could she not realize the right choice has been in-front of her the whole time. she wanted every quality about you in the person she dated, so why not just date you? did she find you that repulsive?

you were wallowing in your thoughts for a while before you decided to check your phone. you felt it buzz as you walked home, but you were too focused on just making it home to check. your notifications revealed 4 missed calls and 10 texts in a row, all from bada. they all happened about 20 minutes ago.

my sea 🌊

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y/n

are you okay???

did i upset you??

where did you go?

are you going home?

y/n princess please tell me you’re home safely, i’m worried.

i hope you’re alright, please don’t cry anymore.

i’m sorry i don’t know what i did, but that doesn’t matter i just need you to be okay

princess?

please let me know when you see this, let me know you’re safe.

you felt like crying even more after reading bada’s texts. maybe you were the one who fucked up. you didn’t want the girl to panic too much and actually call the police, so you mustered up all your energy to text her back.

you

———————

i’m home, i’m fine.

you shut off your phone and threw it to the side as you slowly let more tears fall and sleep over take you. the day was so draining, your body couldn’t help but want to give into sleeping.

────────────────────────────────────────────

the moment bada received your text, she immediately grabbed her stuff and ran out of practice. she ran over to the nearest convenience store to grab a bunch of all of your favorite snacks and drink: fruit jellies, potato chips, and strawberry milk. she had no idea as to why you suddenly became so upset, but the only thing on her mind was to make you feel better. once she purchased everything, bada rushed to your shared apartment quickly.

after you had barely fallen asleep for maybe 45 minutes, you heard a knock at your bedroom door and someone softly calling your name. you assumed it must be bada. you sighed deeply, rubbing your eyes awake. you honestly didn’t know how to react or what to do at this point.

“princess? you awake?” bada asked softly while gripping onto the plastic bag holding the things she got for you.

“go away bada, i’m fine” you mumbled at the door praying she could hear you.

that answer wasn’t good enough for bada. she may be oblivious to a lot of things, but she always knew when you didn’t feel okay. she slowly opened the door and looked at you balled up figure on your bed. the tall girl placed the bag of snacks on your desk and went to sit next to you on your bed. you huffed, sat up, and turned to face the taller girl.

“bada what don’t you understand about “go away” or “i’m fine”?” you asked the girl next to you tiredly. “i’m so tired just leave okay?” you pleaded.

“y/n i can tell you’re not fine, don’t lie to me now. we’re best friends.” bada said seriously looking you in your eyes.

you scoffed and rolled your eyes at her statement. bada tilted her head in confusion at your actions.

“what does that mean?” the oblivious girl asked.

“bada, if we’re seriously best friends…then why do you ignore and throw away every piece of advice i give you?” you started to get worked up, tears already brimming at your eyes again. “you act like you listen to what i say and you cherish it, but in reality you never do.” you said with your voice beginning to get shaky.

“y/n what-“

you cut off your best friend immediately. “don’t ask me what i mean because you know what i’m talking about. i tell you that going on a bunch of dates won’t help you find the one who deserves your love, you agree, say you appreciate me so much and wish you dated someone like me, and then turn around a few days later to go on dates.” you said as tears slowly began to fall down your face. you could barely think about what you were saying at the point, you were just speaking. bada sat there silently in shock listening to you explain everything.

“and bada you always do this. sure, it’s my fault that i accidentally fell in love with my best friend, so yeah seeing you go on all these failed dates and you saying you wish they were like me always make me jealous. but as your best friend it breaks my heart ten times more to see you just waste your time on these losers and just tossing me to the side.” you said as you were fully crying at this point. you were so deep in your emotions you didn’t even realize you just confessed your love to your best friend.

it took bada a while to understand what you had just said but once she did, she immediately started crying with you. you were very confused to see bada cry along with you. you were going to ask why she had began crying but she had said “you’re in love with me y/n?”

you were so shocked as you didn’t even realize what you had said until she said something, you gasped at the realization and looked up at bada, now you were afraid. even though you were upset with bada, you didn’t want to lose her all together.

“bada wait i-“

“no y/n, be honest with me…are you seriously in love with me?” bada asked looking into your eyes, grabbing your hands and holding them tightly in hers.

you looked down, unable to face her. “yes bada, i’ve been in love with you for years. you were even the reason why i realized i was a lesbian, since i’m telling you everything…” you laughed slightly out of embarrassment.

bada couldn’t help but to smile at your confession through her tears “y/n- no my princess, i should have just been honest with you and myself. i also fell in love with my best friend. i thought going on all these dates wishing they were you would maybe help. i never knew you could feel the same way, i was so oblivious. i am so so sorry i hurt you in the process, i never wanted to do that. you are the most important person to me. i love you so much princess.” bada confessed to you while still holding onto your hands. your head shot up at her confession and you looked at her in her eyes to make sure she was being serious. you could tell she was being serious so you couldn’t help but cry out of happiness.

bada pulled you into her and hugged you tightly. you wrapped your arms around her waist and cried into her chest. she let her tears fall freely as well as she held you in her arms as her own.

once you both calmed down, bada pulled away to look at your pretty face and admire the girl she loved so much. she tucked a piece of hair behind your ear and smiled at you. you smiled back at bada and giggled.

“does this mean…we’re girlfriends?” you questioned shyly.

bada chuckled at your shyness before nodding. “yes, yes you’re my girlfriend and i’m yours princess.”

you giggled and placed a quick peck to bada’s lips, still holding her close. bada blushed at the peck before bringing you back into her and kissing your lips softly. you both sat there letting that kiss make up for the lost time that you could’ve been together.

when bada pulled away from the kiss, you whined and looked up at the taller girl with puppy eyes. bada laughed at your actions before smirking down at you.

“why? does my princess want more?” your girlfriend teased you while rubbing her hands up and down your sides. you nodded quickly in response before stretching your neck back up to meet her lips.

bada deepened the kiss, biting your lips softly. your kisses got messier and filled with more and more passion. you were holding onto bada for dear life as she licked across your lips, signaling you that she wanted in. you let her have access so easily, her tongue easily dominated yours as you both continued to hold each other close and make out on your bed. the whimpers and moans you both let out were swallowed by the other within your kisses.

eventually after you both pulled away to catch your breaths, you spotted the plastic grocery bag on your desk.

“baby what’s that?” you questioned softly while pointing at the bag with your finger.

bada blushed at the pet name you gave her before answering you. “it’s all of your favorites princess! fruit jellies, strawberry milk, and potato chips. i bought them earlier to try to make you feel better.”

you smiled up at your girlfriend giggling at the sweet action. “you’re perfect, oblivious as hell, but perfect. i’m so lucky” you said sweetly while getting up to get the bag of snacks.

bada watched you get up as she shook her head in disagreement. “princess, i’m definitely the lucky one, you’re the best girlfriend i could have asked for. i should have really just dated you from the start…” bada trailed off as her face turned into a pout.

you returned to the bed with your snacks acquired and kissed the cute pout off of bada’s face. after that quick kiss, she was nothing but smiles.

“now hush you big puppy, let’s not focus on the lost time. let’s just focus on us now.” you stated as you snuggled into bada.

bada held you close as you snuggled into her. she knew you were right, there’s no use in dwelling on what already happened. all she wanted to do now was create new amazing memories with you.

bada looked at you while smiling and said “so a movie and snacks?”

you chuckled and smiled back at her “you read my mind baby.”

#bada lee #bada lee x reader #bada lee fluff #bada lee imagine #bada lee angst #swf 2 #bada x reader #bada lee fic #bada lee x fem reader #bada imagine #bada lee x y/n #gxg angst #gxg fluff #gxg imagine #gxg scenarios

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kazumist · 4 months

Text

EPISODE 22 ✿ IT CAN'T HAPPEN

YOU + ME = LOVE — A DILUC SMAU

masterlist / prev ep / next ep / wc: 526.

“stop following me.”

“(name), if you could please just let me explain," he reaches out to you, trailing behind you hastily.

you stopped in your tracks and faced him, fighting and praying for your voice not to crack. “explain what? explain that you’re leaving the country in, like, what? three weeks?”

“i was going to tell you," he says, attempting to gently grab your arm but you pull yourself back out of his reach. “and when would that be? when you’re about to board that goddamn plane? when you’re about to take your first step into another country? when, diluc?” this is precisely why you didn’t want to fall in love. the attachment that comes with it is enough to make you go insane.

“i��”

he was speechless. for once in his life, diluc was speechless. he always knew what to say; there was never a moment where he would be found hesitating in his words. but for some reason, ever since he met you, this is the first time he actually didn’t know what to say. he knew that if he said another word, it would hurt you—the both of you—more.

“thought so.” your words were cold enough to feel like bullets on his skin.

he calls out your name, unsure if he’s making the right decision right now. but you ignored him, taking this as your chance to speak up.

“you know? i knew it was a bad decision. to let myself fall for you, that is. i should’ve kept my balance before succumbing to whatever the hell this pit is, because fucking hell, diluc ragnvindr—i love you. there, i said it. i love you, diluc ragnvindr. even when i don’t want to, i do.”

silence.

say something—do something, anything, diluc. you thought.

he swallowed. “i can’t, (name). we both have bright futures ahead of us and i’m not sure if i’m ready to juggle a relationship with that. you deserve someone who’s willing to take risks for you, and i’m just not that person. i’m a coward. i’m no risk taker. i’m too scared to even take that leap of faith—even if it means that i get to be with you.”

another moment of silence.

diluc continues, moving closer. his steps were cautious, trying to read if you’d let him (which you did). he grabs your arms on both sides at first, then a hand travels to your face, caressing your cheek ever so gently. “i can still help you and continue being your tutor until the semester ends, but this… us…” a deep breath.

“it can’t happen, (name).”

tears started to sting your eyes when you pulled away from him.

“you know what? let's just end it. finals are over, the semester is ending and you'll be graduating soon. thank you for your help, diluc. i really couldn’t have done this without you.”

you walked past him, not even sparing him another glance back. diluc wants to say something—to do something—but no words come out of his mouth and his feet are glued hard to the ground.

so he just watches you leave, lowering his head down after you leave his sight.

extra notes.

i wrote this chapter when i was still working on ep 9. and this is literally ep 22. i was wayyyyy too excited LOL

anyways this is actually one of my favorite parts. hope you guys liked it as well, happy valentine's <3

taglist (open): @ryuryuryuyurboat @g4bbyyy @kizakiss @quackimilktea @mochiboo123 @thystarsshine @cerisescherries @jamieexistss @the-ghost-0f-t0m0 @aethion @dottoreworld-page @naishite @sleepyeri @staaarhin @eroxotckv @kiyiiaarchived @fallenssun @lolmeowing @dorryx @astolary @kissingkzuha @axerrri @a1-ic3 @lottierulez @livelaughlovekuni @sorcerersseestars @whipped-for-fictionals @morganadorodo @briluvspnk @venderretta @xiaosoneandonly @angeilix @morgyyyyyyy @kazioli @the-massive-simp @qtange @tiredjxnna @yuminako @acheronie @sn1perz @akitokisser @siu-ssi @artri-ad @hyeinszn @saeskiss @bubblegum-angelquartz @boomie-123 @moni11032 @sandwichmyonetruelove @cherrybb-ily @itztaki @dontmindtheevie @hotgirlshit5 [1/2]

#( smau — you + me = love ! )#genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact #genshin imagines #diluc ragnvindr x reader #diluc x reader #diluc smau #diluc #x reader #genshin smau

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writingstoraes · 11 months

Text

begin again 🌷 (split pt. 3)

pairing: charles leclerc/fem!reader

type: instagram imagine, social media au

notes: the long awaited part 3! this took so long only cause i had no idea how i want it to go lol anyway i hope u guys love this one :D lmk what u think!

about: almost a year after your split with charles, fans take a trip down memory lane and wondering why the two of you seemed to have watered things down after soft launching other people months ago. a bunch of rumors also set twt crazy along with speculations at your paddock appearance where you apparently support ferrari.

read: part 1, part 2 (can read on its own, but the parts provide context hehe)

yourusername

liked by isahernaez, lilymhe, landonorris, and 231,298 others

yourusername back at the happiest place on earth ❤️

lilymhe Have fun, love xo

yourbff Looking that good just to watch a race????

tyretactics QUEEN I ALWAYS LOOK FORWARD TO YOU EVERY RACE

charliez1655 miss mam twt is on fire we all miss you 😪

leclercsluv wdym shes almost always at every race ricciardoshooey no they meant w charles lol

yourusername recently added to her instagram story!

Now playing: Charles Leclerc, 2023 Austrian GP, Post-Sprint Shootout Interviews

yourusername

liked by yourbff, lilymhe, carlossainz55, and 210,593 others

yourusername on a wednesday, in a cafe, i watched it begin again

lecslover looking GOOD AS HELL QUEEN

sainzplaylist god shes back to the man shes been soft launching i think i am going to be: sick

1655lecs that might be charles, we don't know 🙏 sainzplaylist yeah i think its time we let that go lol

wagsqueens mam im sorry wym by begin again???

charles_leclerc

liked by pierregasly, finemidnights, carlossainz55, and 982,221 others

charles_leclerc It's nice to have a friend 🌅

tyreexpert u cant tell me thats not y/n 😪 she's his friend after all...

joris__trouche Looking sharp!

lecssainz16 war is over you guys theyre back at it i am in my acceptance stage now

Some months later...

yourusername

liked by charles_leclerc, pierregasly, lilymhe, and 756,293 others

yourusername i am and willl always be your number one fan. words cannot encapsulate how proud i am of you; truly, you deserve all of this and so much more. congratulations, my love ❤️

it's nice to see you running towards me again :)

ps. yes we've been soft-launching each other the past months hahaha

leclercfan AM I DREAMING SOMEONE PINCH ME

livwatchraces i screamed when i saw you guys on the screen!!!

carlossainz55 Aaand they're back 🎉

charles_leclerc Thanks, number one shipper

charles_leclerc

liked by landonorris, maxverstappen, arthurleclerc, and 1,982,384 others

charles_leclerc Sunshine in human form.

A few months ago, I started hanging on to the fact that in good faith and in good time, things will eventually work its way out. Almost a year ago, it seems as if we have closed a chapter but today, we are living proof people who are made for each other can begin again.

Ce sera toujours toi 🤍 It will always be you.

scuderiaferrari We missed you tons, Y/N! ❤️

wagsf1 the queen of all queens is back we love to see it

lecslover it's years later and he still talks about her the same way he always have 🥹

sainzchamp The way theyve been soft launching each other all this time and that one rumor of Charles being with another girl was still Y/N 😭

yourusername sold our apartment already? too bad 😆

charles_leclerc I never actually sold it, if I did, I'd probably buy it back

---------

tagging: @slytherheign, @honethatty12, @siovhanroy, @mehrmonga, @mess-in-side, @leclerc16s, @thelovehypothesis, @dakotali, @aldene-styles

notes: eeee and its finally done! cant believe it took so much time before i finished all three parts lol anyway thank you so much for those who waited for the part three (i see all the asks on my inbox and the comments ehehe) i really just didn't know how i wanted it to go so! i hope you guys love this and lmk what you think <3

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keys-hellscape-1020 · 11 months

Text

Hobie Brown Headcannons

I have some horrible brain rot for this man and I need to let it out somehow, so uh. Here you go ig.

Hobie Brown x gn!Reader

I think the whole fandom can agree when I say this man is Protective. Not in a suffocating way, no he would never, but in an observant way. He always has an eye on you and if you signal that you need his help he always, (and I mean always) comes in swinging. No one messes with his favorite person.

He’s generally pretty observant, but when it comes to you it seems like he’s somehow even more so. If you need help getting something off a high shelf he’s behind you getting it down for you with a small smirk and a kiss to the top of your head before you can even say anything. It’s not that he doesn’t think you’re capable, he knows you are. His love language is just acts of service. And he loves you a lot.

He’ll also help you out in other ways. If you happen to be a person who gets a period he will know your schedule like the back of his hand. And if you’re cursed with irregular ones he’ll somehow know before you even do when you’re gonna start (spidey-sense anyone?). He’ll come prepped with your sanitary device of choice as well as chocolate, sweets, and anything else you may need.

On a similar theme this man is firm believer in cuddles. He needs them or else he is incapable of functioning. How is he supposed to go deal with idiots if he hasn’t received his dose of love? He can’t. That’s how.

As said previously this man is tall, (6’3) and fairly spindly too. When you cuddle this man is going to be wrapped around you like a pretzel. His arms will be around your waist, you can’t tell where your legs end and his begin, and your chests will be pressed up right next to one another. Good luck if you need to get up to pee. You will not be getting up until this man has woken up enough to realize what you’re trying to do. And even then probably not. Hope you have a bladder of steel cause you’ll be needing it.

When you do finally get this man out of bed, I can see him being the one to cook. He’s not a great chef by any means but he’s not half bad either. You won’t see him making anything fancy but he has perfected the art of simple yet delicious meals. I saw someone else head-cannon that this man makes a delicious oatmeal and I couldn’t agree more. This man makes the best oatmeal you’ve ever tasted.

On the note of food, dates! This man loves taking you out on the town, but only small locally owned places! No contributing to capitalism here! If you’re new to London you’re lucky cause you just scored yourself the best tour guide in town! He’ll show you all the best pubs, small ones tucked away in alleyways. Best places to watch the sun set over the skyline, hangout spots, picnics, this man knows it all and he will gladly share his knowledge with you!

After all is said and done and he’s done showing you around the city, chances are he’s gonna have to suddenly disappear on a… very long bathroom trip. What do you mean you saw Spider-Punk swinging by the window two seconds after he left? What a coincidence!

Seriously though, this man hates lying to you and will refrain from doing so in anyway he can. He might not outright tell you he’s spider-punk, but he won’t not tell you if that makes sense. I’ve seen multiple other people head-cannon that he’ll just leave little hints around and wait for you to connect the dots and I whole-heartedly agree. He knows that you’re smart and he has faith you’ll figure it out quickly.

Once you do figure it out and confront him a considerable weight has lifted from his shoulders. He hates hiding things from you, lying to you about why he disappears for considerable amounts of time. And now that you know he doesn’t have to!

In all seriousness be prepared to be awoken at 2am from tapping on your window. When you open it Hobie falls in, in his Spider-Punk suit, 12 different shades of black and blue and coated in blood. This happens multiple times a month. You’ll get used to it. Probably.

————

A/N: Welp first time writing for Hobie… Let me know what you think! I’m very unsure about his characterization. Although it’s very hard to write him well cause they gave him SO little screen time 😭 I’m in the trenches over here trying to do this man Justice.

#key writing #across the spiderverse #spiderman atsv #atsv x reader #hobie brown atsv #hobie x you #hobie brown #hobie brown x reader #hobie brown x you #hobie x reader #atsv fanfiction #atsv x you #spider punk #spiderverse #spiderpunk x reader #spiderpunk x you #Ughhhhh words cannot DESCRIBE how much I love him #This is just pure word vomit but I had to get it out

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princessbrunette · 6 months

Note

line cook jj who notices his favourite waitress isn’t bringing in lunch so he starts making some for her. she always gets the best meals and when one of the guys mention they don’t bring lunch either he’s like yeah but you aren’t pretty ✊

KEKFJDJS the end is so out of pocket

no but you’re his sweetest waitress who always goes out of your way for anyone, employee or customer :( you’re never involved in any workplace drama, you’re polite, you’re kind, jj just thinks you’re the cutest thing ever.

so he keeps an eye on you because just watching you restores his faith a little in humanity, but every lunch time he notices you skip it to carry on working, looking a little weaker by the end of the day. one day he blurts out “no lunch?” and you just turn and look at him, a little off guard, smiling like it was no big deal with a shrug saying something like “can’t afford it lately, it’s okay though, not hungry anyway.”

but jj grew up going hungry, so he knows that lie like the back of his hand. when you reenter the kitchen to take another order out he pretty much sheep dogs you into the staff room to sit you down.

“jj, really it’s no big deal.”

“yeah okay, so you won’t mind if i fix you a plate? i tried somethin’ new and i need someone to test if it tastes good. you’ll help me, right?” he slings a rag over his shoulder, looking mighty proud of himself. you sigh, a smile creeping up on your face.

“it can’t hurt, i suppose. as long as you’re sure, i don’t wanna take up any of your time.”

“please, for you? anything.” he waves you off, going to fetch your plate.

this becomes an everyday thing and you get more and more comfortable with asking for help from jj when you need it :(( you go through better stages when you can afford to bring your own lunch (even though he insists on continuing to make you food anyway because he just has the undying urge to look after you) but when it gets bad again you return to him looking a little shy and unsure like “jj, do you think you could maybe make me something? i don’t have anything right now.” and he just melts bc :((( of course :((( yk??

#anon #linecook!jj

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m1ssunderstanding · 5 months

Text

Get Back Rewatch 55 Years On: Day Eight

So Ringo walks in first thing in the morning carrying not one, but two drinks. Either he’s being very gentlemanly to MLH (likely) or we’re getting a peek at his alcohol problem (also likely)

Ringo your boooots! Ugh, I want them so bad. And paired with the shiny red shirt and jeans? Like if Dorothy was rodeo royalty.

Paul’s defense-mechanism overdone charm coming in strong today. Playfighting with some random old man, winking at someone else as he walks by, all chipper and bouncy, boyish and cute.

“If it came to a push . . . between Yoko and the Beatles, it’s Yoko, you know . . . ‘Why do you build me up, build me up, buttercup baby, just to let me down?” Linda grabs his hand and he shuts up. Another on my list of covers with *meaning* and if this one isn’t obvious, I don’t know what is. Even Linda was embarrassed for him. But here’s the thing. He’s so sure that if he pushed John to choose between Yoko and the band, that John’d choose Yoko. And he’s probably right there. But what John wants, IMO, whether he knows it or not, is for Paul to push him to choose between Yoko and HIM. Not the band. I really do think that’s what John wants and the fact that Paul’s not doing that confirms John’s belief that Paul doesn’t love him.

“Permanently engaged?” *literally starts to vibrate with anxiety* *whistles to self-soothe*

Okay, but, if I’m remembering correctly, actually in the nagras Paul’s answer to MLH’s “Do you think if you put any pressure on him that he’d go your way a bit more?” is actually “I don’t know, you know . . . can’t be bothered.” Not. “I don’t know, you know . . . and then there were two.” As AKOM said in one of their Get Back episodes, that line is actually a joke not even from that moment. So the tears? Real. The line? No.

Ringo is Not a fan of Paul just casually planning ways to announce the breakup.

Couldn’t even get a picture of Paul jumping out of his chair to talk to John because he moves so fast. Poor baby.

I wonder how early on Linda and Paul developed the “she says what he can’t say while he’s gone” play? You know? I definitely don’t think this early, but this moment does remind me of that little strategy of theirs.

“He’s coming in.” Just now takes his coat off. Meaning he's just now decided to stay? Or he's just now remembered he's still got it on? Either way, Paul's suddenly all easy smiles, relaxed, joking. John’s coming in. What could be wrong?

I was literally so pissed when I first watched this lunchroom conversation. I won’t claim to be a nagras expert or anything, but I was very familiar with the secretly-taped conversation, and it was just so butchered and spliced. Also, even if it was just them talking, it’s still not a private conversation. They’re in a crowded public space. So it’s still coded and veiled and layered etc. MLH you should’ve bugged their coats for the meeting at George’s if you’d wanted a private convo. (obvs I don’t condone that sort of thing don’t come at me)

Paul and John invite Ringo to go see George. Ringo: I was going anyway. Of course you were. Ringo’s the glue, everyone. Lewisohn can think it’s John that everyone had their closest relationship with in the group, but actually, it’s Ringo.

Ringo and Mal’s little two-step. Adorable!

See, and Ringo being the one to suggest they rehearse. It’s not just Paul being bossy all the time, kids, and it’s not just John being a leader all the time, kids. Sometimes it’s Ringo.

“Why don’t I leave my favorite guitar here as a sign?” “Look, look, what greater faith could a man have than to leave his list?” You know, like when that mean teacher makes you give them a shoe or your phone or something when they let you borrow a pencil just to make sure you won’t steal it?

#Not much to say today I guess #It was kinda a blah day for everyone I think and I'm more aware of the editing today so that throws me off a bit too #Ringo is the highlight for sure today #I should be a Ringo girl probably #Oh well #paul mccartney #the beatles #john lennon #mclennon #ringo starr #george harrison #get back

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thefiery-phoenix · 1 month

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YANDERE LOV HEADCANONS

If you were to be kidnapped by the LOV, the league of villains, they would be watching you like creepy stalkers for a VERY LOONG time. It would be really infuriating for them to watch you doing the same boring things over and over again and again for days together. Won't you EVER get bored of living that bland vanilla life? You CLEARLY needed some spice in your life, at least, that's what THEY felt (Read, more like what DABI and TWICE felt. Shigaraki just didn't give a damn about you, that egoistical prick)

But no matter how much Shigaraki claimed that you were a useless spoiled brat, even HE couldn't shake off his feelings for you. Toga and Dabi would often tease him about it which would always result in a full fledged slapping war till mama Kurogiri tells the crybabies to CALM TF down

HECK, even KUROGIRI thinks you won't be so bad... When the other members of the LOV asked him to open up his warp gate and help them kidnap you, he resisted saying that you just needed some time. Even he was curious as to why most of the members of the LOV had suddenly taken an interest in you

You were the prey, the victim they ALL fell in love with and the fact that they weren't controlling you yet and possessing you yet was pissing them TF off and was driving them INSANE

It won't be long before they kidnap you. You might be skipping along one day, looking like a happy cute adorable little chipmunk that's excited for something and suddenly, BOOM! Everything goes dark and fog and mist surrounds you (Cue the special effects and the dramatic evil chuckling and creepy organ music playing from the middle of nowhere)

You would be TERRIFIED out of your wits to see Kurogiri just staring at you as well as the other members of the LOV as well (Well, of COURSE, who WOULDN'T be scared of out of their minds when you see villains glaring at you?) This is their chance to PROVE to you that you shouldn't place your faith and waste your breath on those pathetic no good hero scum who are useless most of the times anyway

You would be gagged for a few days, chained and all. Dabi would have to deal with Toga's constant pestering asking whether she could make you bleed since she thinks you look cute and adorable in red and with blood all over you... Damn, this is scary

Crusty lips would be the MOST SCARIEST yandere, no doubt about that. He'd threaten you the most, show you the LEAST amount of love and affection, and basically, acts like a spoiled kid with the aura of a demon. He might even threaten to turn you to ash if you don't stop flinching away and turning away from him (SOMEONE HAND ME A KNIFE, I HAVE A CRUSTY RAT TO STAB!!!!! UvU)

That arrogant jerkface would LOVE to taunt you, call you all sorts of names and he gets some sick sort of pleasure seeing how HELPLESS you were under HIS control, poor sweet dumb little thing.... He wouldn't actually turn you to ash but seeing the way you squirm around from time to time just makes him feel so... aroused and gets all these crazy thoughts about you that'll be left to YOUR imagination ;)

Is Toga a yandere? BWAHAHAHAHAH XD Is that even a QUESTION to ask? She is the MASTER of all yanderes, and I honestly think she and Ayano Aishi from Yandere Simulator would be best pals and killing buddies. She'd swoon all over you and coo how cute you are in that sickeningly sugar coated voice of hers and say how beautiful you'd look in blood till Dabi pulls her away from you. When it's her turn to spend time with the LOV's 'pet' she's gonna literally POUNCE on you, trying to take your blood, tying you up and making you beg for more (HONESTLY, how TF is she NOT a vampire!!!???) She LOVES being dominant and unfortunately for you, you're her little plaything

Twice is kinda chill AND DEADLY scary at the same time. I think he has a bipolar personality since one minute he's gonna be laughing with you and the next minute he's gonna do somethin dangerous towards you. This guy's really unpredictable and it's horrifying. You might be running into HIS arms for comfort AND yet, at the same time, you might be running away from him too like your hair's on fire. This dude's personality is so unpredictable, is damn scary.... TvT

Mr Compress might just be the BEST yandere or captor you could EVER ASK for, PERIODT. He'd treat you well and certainly not like it when the other members try harming you in any way. He would never degrade you either. He'll take you to his room at night and show you all sorts of cool magic tricks and slow dance with you like in those cutesy dramatic romantic movies. He'd stroke his thumb over your soft lips, caress your cheeks lovingly and say how cute and adorable and amazing you were and how he'd be your source of comfort from those overgrown morons with an IQ of a sardine tin can. He'll LOVE it when you're dependent on him and ONLY him and he would NEVER bring himself to hurt you like the others (Man, this dude is making me cry....)

Dabi couldn't care less at first when he saw you. He thought you were another little plaything for his use and he'd toss you away like a Kleenex after you were broken. And yet, something about you just attracts him to you and that's actually pretty terrifying. If Dabi's in a bad mood, you better start saying your freaking prayers since this man takes sadism to a WHOLE NOTHER level, it's a question now, who's more of a sadist. Dabi or Shigaraki? If he's in a good mood, he'll just ask you to shut up and cuddle with you and rub some gentle circles on your back

To piss Crusty Face Handyman even MORE, he'll make you sit on his lap during meetings while Shigaraki's gonna be damn pissed at BOTH you and HIM and that'll jus t make the prick Dabi satisfied. Sometimes, he won't be so bad to you, otherwise he's gonna make you do all sorts of things you're uncomfortable with and he's gonna be like your WORST NIGHTMARE in HUMAN form. He and Shigaraki might even TAG TEAM when it comes to your punishments and they CERTAINLY WON'T be your favorite yanderes, that's for SURE

Oh JESUS... when it comes to Spinner he's like the MOST SOFTEST yandere EVER just like Mr. Compress. He LOVES showering you with love and affection, and he's just so pure, he can't EVER hurt you... OMG, MY HEART!!!!!....

He CERTAINLY feels bad with Compress when the league uses you as their personal stress toy and hence, they're the ones who'll actually take care of you and treat you with such gentle care and tender love. He'll be one who'll actually make you happy, by sneaking food for you when the league tries to starve you since you were being bad, talk to you about the things you like and care about, won't EVER touch you inappropriately since he DROWNS in his respect women juice and feels really bad since he can't help you escape. This boi is so PRECIOUS, IMMA DIE FROM A CUTENESS OVERLOAD!!!!!!!!!!

Kurogiri will be like the parental figure and whenever the punishments get out of hand like the villains trying to touch you inappropriately and all, he'll be there to stop in no time. Though he's a villain, he cares for you just like Compress and Spinner. He won't hesitate to punish you, but his punishments will just be a bit tamer than the ones the others give. His punishments will be something like him just ignoring you for a few hours and all that. He'll make sure to take good and proper care of you and feed you and on time and ensure you aren't malnourished. He'll talk to you about the current things going on around the world and honestly... he ain't so bad

In my opinion, Stain is a chivalrous guy. He won't torture you, EVER nor will he ever invade your personal space. He thinks you're cute and adorable and he'll compliment you oh just a DOZEN times a day. Like Kurogiri, he ensures you're safe and all right and after a harsh treatment with the Terrifying Trio (aka. Stabby blood rat, crusty chicken nugget and BURNT chicken nugget) he'll be there to comfort you and wipe your tears away and gently hold you to sleep after he tends to your injuries. If you're locked away somewhere, he'll at the very least try sneaking some food for you and telling you that you're strong and you'll be able to cope with it and gently encourage you

#yandere bnha #yandere bnha x reader #yandere bnha scenarios #yandere bnha oneshots #yandere lov #yandere lov x reader #yandere lov scenarios #yandere lov oneshots #yandere lov headcanons #yandere lov imagines #yandere league of villains #yandere league of villains x reader #yandere league of villains scenarios

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reallygroovyninja · 19 days

Text

I want to preface the story I am about to post is garbage. No, really, it's bad. There are moments in it you can see my brain think oh shit, I need to explain myself.

If you want to read a story I am very proud of, check out The Fallen. It does have a shocking ending, which I am very sure turns people off, but I stayed faithful to the story that inspired it.

Anyway, here is unfinished Word Document 20. It's so bad I had to hide it under a cut. lol

Lexa was seated in a quaint office adorned with countless baby pictures, each snapshot a vignette of new beginnings and cherished memories. The walls, a gentle palette of pastel hues, were lined meticulously with these joyful expressions, casting a soft, hopeful glow throughout the room. The ambiance was both serene and surreal, as if Lexa had stepped into a gallery of future possibilities.

At the desk, a woman named Marlene, who ran the agency, extended a packet of papers toward Lexa. "Based on your criteria and the comprehensive tests you completed, these are the candidates we believe match your needs," Marlene explained, her tone both professional and empathetic. She knew that the choices contained in these documents could change lives. "Once you have a shortlist, let us know. We can then provide you with their photographs. This decision is profound—it should transcend mere physical appearances."

Lexa appreciated the process's discretion and thoroughness. She had longed for a child, a desire unmet in her past relationships, none of which revealed an alpha compelling enough to share her life's journey. Now, she sought a different route—a sperm surrogate, an alpha who would contribute to the life she wished to create and then step away, allowing her the autonomy she desired in raising her child.

They would meet intermittently, their encounters solely intended to achieve conception. It was an arrangement devoid of traditional romantic entanglements, focused instead on the singular goal of motherhood.

Taking the packet, Lexa began to leaf through the pages. Names, occupations, medical histories, personal hobbies, and more—details designed to paint a picture of each potential candidate. Yet, as she skimmed the information, the details seemed to meld into a blur of text. She knew she would need time and quiet to pore over these sheets, to consider who these people were beyond the data.

Marlene watched her with a calm understanding, accustomed to the weight such decisions carried for her clients. "There’s no rush," she reassured Lexa. "Take the packet home, think over your options carefully. We're here to support you every step of the way."

Grateful for the empathy and professionalism, Lexa nodded, clutching the documents a bit tighter as she prepared to leave. The smiling, innocent faces of the babies seemed to bid her farewell and good luck. Stepping out of the office, Lexa felt the gravity of her decision resting on her shoulders—a burden, yes, but also a beacon of the profound joy and love she hoped to welcome into her life.

Later that evening, Lexa settled onto her couch, a glass of red wine in hand, the soft hum of her quiet home enveloping her as she spread the stack of profiles across her coffee table. The light of her living room lamp cast a cozy glow, perfect for the introspective task at hand. She had decided on a methodical approach to review each candidate: she would create two piles—one for definite no's, and another to review again.

Taking a sip of her wine, Lexa began. One by one, she carefully read through each profile, considering the potential of each candidate not just as a genetic contributor, but as someone whose traits might mesh well with her own for the child they would share. Her fingers brushed against the papers, shifting them between the two designated areas on her table.

There was Jacob, whose profile intrigued her right away. His interests in environmental science and community gardening hinted at a thoughtful, perhaps gentle soul. Then there was Bellamy, a police officer whose tone in the self-description came off a bit too brash for her liking; his profile radiated a certain arrogance that Lexa found off-putting. He was promptly placed in the no pile.

As she continued, a few others passed her review—some with potential, others lacking the certain je ne sais quoi she was searching for. Finally, she reached the bottom of the stack, where a profile named Clarke rested. At first glance, something about Clarke's description didn’t quite resonate with her, and she was tempted to add it to the no pile. Yet, something—perhaps a detail she had missed or a gut feeling—nudged at her to reconsider.

With a thoughtful frown, Lexa picked up Clarke’s profile again. This time, she read slower, trying to capture the essence behind the words. Clarke was an artist, deeply involved in local community projects, which spoke to a creative and civic-minded spirit. His brief mention of a love for old cinema and classic books hinted at depth. Lexa waffled, her initial impression clashing with the intrigue now sparked by her second, more careful reading.

Setting Clarke's profile down on the "review again" pile, Lexa decided not to rush her judgment. She finished her wine, her mind actively weaving through the impressions each profile had left. Tonight was just the beginning. She knew the importance of this choice, not just for herself, but for her future child. She’d return to these profiles after a night’s rest, perhaps seeing them anew with fresh eyes and a clearer perspective.

The next morning, Lexa found herself with a phone pressed to her ear, recounting the previous evening's deliberations to her cousin Anya. Anya had always been more like a sister to Lexa, providing both support and candid advice whenever Lexa needed it.

"So, I've got these two piles," Lexa explained, her voice carrying a mix of resolve and uncertainty. "The no pile is pretty straightforward—those profiles just didn't click for me. But the 'review again' pile, that's where it gets tricky. There’s Jacob, who really seems like a gentle soul, and Clarke, who I almost passed on but decided to give another look."

On the other end of the line, Anya listened intently, her occasional hums of agreement punctuating Lexa’s detailed descriptions of the potential alphas. When Lexa finished, there was a brief silence, the kind that hinted at Anya's deep consideration before she spoke.

"Lex, are you sure about all this?" Anya’s voice was gentle, yet probing. "I mean, it sounds like you're really trying to convince yourself here. Aren't you giving up a bit easily on finding the right alpha? You know, the traditional way?"

Lexa sighed, a soft sound of mixed emotions. "I know it seems like I'm rushing into this, but I've thought about it a lot. I just haven't met someone who fits what I'm looking for in a partner... someone I want to share my life with. This way, I can focus on what I really want—a child. I don’t need a romantic relationship to make that happen."

Anya was quiet for a moment, likely weighing her next words. "I get that, I really do. But it’s a big step, Lexa. Just make sure you’re choosing this path because it’s truly what you want, not because you feel it’s your only option."

Lexa nodded to herself, appreciating Anya's concern. "I understand, and I appreciate you looking out for me. I’m not closing the door on finding someone someday, but right now, this feels right. I want to be a mom, Anya. And I feel ready to do this on my own terms."

Anya’s response was warm, supportive. "Then you know I'm behind you one hundred percent. Just promise me you'll think on it a little more, okay? And whatever you decide, I’m here for you."

"Thanks, Anya. That means a lot to me," Lexa replied, feeling a comforting sense of reassurance. She knew Anya only wanted the best for her, and having her support strengthened Lexa's resolve to move forward thoughtfully and confidently.

After ending the call with Anya, Lexa set aside the 'review again' pile of profiles on her dining table, deciding not to revisit them until later that evening. She knew the importance of the decision ahead and recognized the need to approach it with a clear mind and a settled heart.

The conversation with Anya had stirred a mix of emotions and considerations, reinforcing the gravity of her choice. Lexa felt it crucial to give herself space—to let her initial impressions simmer and her intuition align with her logical reasoning. This pause, she believed, would help her return to the profiles with fresh eyes and a more decisive heart.

During the day, Lexa busied herself with her usual activities, allowing her subconscious to process the morning’s conversation and her own feelings about each candidate. She went for a long walk in the park, the rhythmic steps helping to clear her mind. She met with a friend for coffee, enjoying the distraction and the normalcy of casual conversation.

As the day turned into evening, Lexa felt more centered. She prepared a quiet space at home, with minimal distractions, lighting a candle for a touch of calm ambiance. She poured herself a glass of wine, similar to the night before, setting the stage for contemplation and decision-making.

Sitting down, she slowly began to revisit each profile in the 'review again' pile. Lexa’s goal was to narrow her choices to two or three potential alphas—individuals who not only met her criteria on paper but whom she felt could genuinely contribute to the life and the values she hoped to nurture in her future child. With a deep breath, she delved into the profiles once more, ready to make one of the most significant decisions of her life.

As the evening wore on, Lexa methodically revisited each profile, reflecting deeply on the characteristics and values of each potential alpha. Slowly, her list began to narrow until she was left with three names: Jacob, Roan, and Clarke.

Jacob’s profile had an immediate and strong appeal. His dedication to environmental conservation and his gentle demeanor resonated with Lexa's own values. It seemed a natural alignment, one that suggested he would bring the kind of thoughtful and nurturing influence she desired for her child.

Roan presented a different allure. His profile portrayed him as a resilient and ambitious individual, someone who had overcome significant challenges to achieve personal and professional success. There was a strength in Roan's narrative that Lexa admired, a testament to his character that she believed would be a valuable trait to pass on to her offspring.

Yet, despite the compelling cases for both Jacob and Roan, Lexa found her thoughts continually drifting back to Clarke’s profile. There was an intriguing blend of creativity and intellect in his background— an artist with an Ivy League education, deeply involved in community service. His profile hinted at a complex, multifaceted personality; he was someone who valued both expression and academia, who understood the importance of giving back to the community.

Clarke’s interests in the arts and his commitment to societal contribution painted a picture of a man who was not only educated but also empathetic and engaged with the world around him. These were traits Lexa admired and sought for her child’s upbringing.

The more Lexa thought about Clarke, the more she realized how much his qualities appealed to her. He represented a balance of intelligence, creativity, and civic responsibility—elements that she valued deeply and imagined could foster a rich, nurturing environment for a child.

With a thoughtful sigh, Lexa placed Jacob and Clarke’s profiles side by side, with Roan's just slightly below them. It was clear these were her finalists, each bringing something unique and valuable to the table. She knew her decision would not be easy, but she also felt reassured by the strength of her final choices. As she prepared to retire for the night, Lexa felt a quiet confidence that among these men, she would find the right partner for the journey ahead.

On a quiet Sunday morning, with a cup of tea steaming gently beside her laptop, Lexa settled down to compose an email to the agency. The decision to request photos of her three final candidates—Jacob, Roan, and Clarke—felt like the next logical step in her carefully considered process. She knew the agency wouldn't respond until Monday, but drafting the email gave her a sense of progress and control over her choices.

Lexa typed with deliberate care, her words reflecting the gravity of her request. She explained that she had narrowed her selection down to three potential alphas and would now like to see their photographs to aid in her final decision. Lexa stressed that while she understood the importance of not basing her choice solely on physical attraction, she believed that a certain level of physical compatibility was essential for her comfort and confidence in this unique and intimate arrangement.

As she hit send, Lexa felt a wave of anticipation mixed with satisfaction. Each of her chosen candidates brought distinct and strong qualities to the table. Jacob with his gentle nature and environmental passion, Roan with his resilience and proven ambition, and Clarke with his creative spirit and intellectual prowess—each was appealing in a uniquely compelling way. Lexa appreciated the diversity in their profiles, which she believed would allow her to make a balanced choice based on a combination of intellectual, emotional, and physical attributes.

Leaning back in her chair, Lexa allowed herself to feel hopeful about the next steps. She hoped that the upcoming photos would not only confirm the impressions she had formed from their profiles but also ignite a spark of attraction. The thought of conceiving a child necessitated a certain level of physical appeal, and she hoped to find that in at least one of these men, making the process of becoming a mother not just a fulfillment of a desire but also a comfortable and pleasing journey.

With her part done for now, Lexa spent the rest of her day engaged in preparing for the new week, her mind occasionally wandering to her three candidates. The blend of curiosity and excitement for what Monday would bring was palpable, as she envisioned a future where one of these men would help her realize her dream of motherhood.

In her office, Lexa found herself repeatedly glancing at her phone, which lay beside her keyboard—a silent testament to her growing impatience. Each time the screen lit up with a notification, she felt a jolt of anticipation, only to find emails unrelated to her personal inquiry. The response from the agency, it seemed, was taking its sweet time.

Lexa tried to anchor her focus on the reports and spreadsheets that crowded her desktop. Her work, typically a realm where she excelled and found clarity, now felt like a cumbersome distraction. Her thoughts, disobedient and wild, fluttered incessantly towards the potential images of Jacob, Roan, and Clarke.

She knew their basic features—hair color, eye color—but these details painted no vivid picture in her mind. What were their smiles like? How did they carry themselves? Were they tall, broad-shouldered, or had a more slender, athletic build? These unknowns spun around in her head, each a question mark adding to a mosaic of curiosity and expectation.

Her concentration broke again, and she reached for her phone, scrolling through her inbox fruitlessly once more. With a sigh, Lexa set the device down and tried to realign her focus on a particularly complex data analysis. But even as she parsed through numbers and trends, part of her mind wandered, sketching imaginary portraits of the three men based on the scant information she had.

The morning dragged on, each tick of the office clock a reminder of the waiting she had to endure. Lexa found herself tapping a pen against her desk, her gaze drifting towards the window, where the city below seemed indifferent to her internal turmoil. The blend of excitement and nerves was palpable, like the quiet tension that fills the air before a storm breaks.

Finally, acknowledging her distracted state, Lexa decided to take a brief walk around the building, hoping that a change of scenery and a bit of movement would help her regain her concentration. As she strolled through the quieter parts of her workplace, she reminded herself that the decision she was about to make was significant and deserved this level of anticipation and thought. Returning to her desk refreshed, Lexa resolved to put her personal feelings aside and dive back into her work—determined to keep her professional prowess intact, even as her personal life beckoned with unanswered questions.

As the end of the workday approached, Lexa had almost resigned herself to the idea that her eagerly awaited email from the agency wouldn't arrive until Tuesday. She felt a mixture of disappointment and relief, the delay giving her more time to prepare mentally for what those photos might reveal.

She set her phone down one more time, focusing on shutting down her computer and organizing her desk for the evening. Just as she pushed back from her desk, her phone buzzed with the distinct chime of a new email notification. Her heart skipped a beat when she saw the sender: the agency.

Quickly, she tapped on the notification, her eyes scanning the email's contents. The agency apologized for the delay, explaining they had taken extra care to ensure the photographs matched her request for confidentiality and respect towards the candidates. Attached to the email were three files, each labeled with the name of one of her potential alphas: Jacob, Roan, Clarke.

Lexa's thumb hovered over the attachments. A part of her wanted to open them immediately, to finally put faces to the names and profiles she had been pondering over for days. Yet, as she sat in the stillness of her office, a wave of hesitation washed over her. Was this the right place to make such a personal, potentially life-altering discovery?

Her office, usually a space of professional decisions and work-focused thoughts, suddenly felt too impersonal, too public for this deeply private moment. She contemplated the weight of what these images represented—not just potential genetic contributors but possible co-creators of her future child.

Deciding she needed the privacy and comfort of her own home to experience this moment, Lexa locked her phone and slipped it into her bag. Once home, she could take her time, process her reactions in her own space, and make thoughtful decisions without the confines of her professional environment.

As she walked out of the building into the warm evening air, Lexa felt a reassuring calm settle over her. Tonight, with a cup of her favorite tea in hand, she would meet, in a way, the men who might help her fulfill her dream of motherhood. It was a meeting that deserved her full presence and undivided attention, best done in the sanctuary of her home.

Lexa's evening unfolded with a mixture of routine and restless anticipation. After a quiet dinner, she methodically washed her dishes, the warm soapy water running over her hands as she scrubbed. This daily chore, usually a mindless task, felt different tonight. Each plate rinsed and set to dry was a moment to stall, a brief reprieve from the decision that awaited her.

As the dishes were put away and her kitchen returned to its usual tidy state, Lexa brewed a cup of calming chamomile tea. The steam curled into the air, carrying with it a scent that usually relaxed her, but tonight it was just another step in delaying the inevitable.

Part of her meticulous post-dinner clean-up was borne from habit, but another part was driven by a palpable apprehension. She was about to make a decision that would significantly shape her future. The man whose image she was about to view might very well be the one to help her fulfill her deep-seated desire to become a mother. This wasn't just any routine interaction; this was about selecting an alpha who would provide the genetic material to conceive her child and then, as per the agreement, step away.

With her cup of tea in hand, Lexa finally settled onto her couch, her usual spot for unwinding after a long day, but nothing about tonight was usual. She took a deep, steadying breath, feeling the warmth of the tea seep into her palms. Her phone lay next to her, an innocuous presence that now seemed daunting.

Finally, she picked up her phone, her thumb hovering over the email app with hesitation. This action, so simple and routine, felt momentous. She opened the email once more, and there they were, the attachments waiting just a click away. Each file bore the name of a potential alpha: Jacob, Roan, and Clarke.

Lexa tapped tentatively on the image file labeled "Jacob," her breath catching slightly in anticipation. The photo that materialized showed a man with boyish good looks, his smile gentle and inviting, eyes sparkling with a warmth that reinforced the impression of kindness his profile had suggested. Jacob's image aligned perfectly with what Lexa had envisioned—a friendly face that could bring comfort and reassurance.

Next, she opened the file for Roan. As his image came into view, Lexa noted his longish hair and the unmistakable intensity in his gaze. His strong jawline and the serious set of his mouth gave him a rugged appearance, one that spoke of resilience and a certain sternness. Roan looked like a man who faced challenges head-on, a stark contrast to Jacob’s softer, more approachable demeanor.

Finally, Lexa clicked on the last image, labeled "Clarke." She expected to see another male alpha, similar to the first two. However, as the image slowly loaded, her expectations were upended. The photo revealed not a man, but a striking woman with deep blue eyes and long blonde hair. Lexa stared, taken aback, as she processed the unexpected sight of a female alpha. Clarke’s presence in the photo was compelling; her gaze was direct and confident, radiating a strong sense of self-assuredness.

Lexa’s initial shock slowly gave way to a mix of emotions. Clarke’s appearance was stunning, and there was an undeniable beauty in her features that Lexa found herself unexpectedly drawn to. This twist in her journey made Lexa pause, her mind racing through the implications. She had not considered the possibility of a female alpha, yet here was Clarke, challenging her preconceptions and expanding the horizon of her choices.

Sitting back on the couch, Lexa took a moment to reflect. Each candidate brought something unique to the table: Jacob’s kindness, Roan’s intensity, and now Clarke’s unexpected presence—a female alpha who exuded strength and allure. Lexa knew this decision required more than a cursory glance at photographs. It was about finding a connection, a match that felt right on multiple levels.

As she continued to gaze at Clarke’s image, Lexa felt a curious pull, a fascination that urged her to reconsider what she thought she had been looking for in an alpha. Clarke’s striking blue eyes seemed to beckon for consideration, asking Lexa to step beyond the familiar and entertain the possibilities that lay in unexpected quarters.

As Lexa continued to sit on her couch, the images of the three alphas lingered on her phone screen, each one offering a different possibility, a different future. The room was quiet, save for the soft hum of the city outside her window. Lexa found herself lost in thought, trying to envision what a child with each of these individuals might look like.

First, there was Jacob, with his warm brown eyes and dark hair, features that gave him an approachable, boy-next-door charm. Lexa imagined a child with similar soft, dark locks, perhaps inheriting Jacob's easy smile and the inherent kindness that seemed to radiate from his expression.

Then there was Roan, with his intense blue eyes and dark, slightly wild hair. His features were sharp, his presence in the photo almost commanding. A child with Roan might inherit those striking blue eyes, Lexa thought, along with a likely strong-willed spirit and perhaps that same sense of resilience that Roan seemed to embody.

Finally, her mind drifted to Clarke. The image of the blonde-haired, blue-eyed alpha with a distinct chin dimple was vivid in her mind. Lexa found herself particularly curious about this feature—a charming little dimple that added so much character to Clarke's smile. Would a child with Clarke inherit that same dimple? Lexa pictured a little one with light hair and those piercing blue eyes, maybe running around with a mischievous grin punctuated by that adorable dimple.

Each mental image brought a smile to Lexa's face but also added layers of complexity to her decision. This wasn't just about choosing a partner for conception; it was about choosing half of the genetic makeup of her future child. Each alpha not only offered different physical traits but also different backgrounds and personalities that would influence their child.

Lexa took a deep breath, feeling both overwhelmed and excited by the possibilities. As she sipped her tea, now lukewarm, she realized that this decision would shape not just her future, but that of her child. She knew that beyond looks, she needed to consider which values and qualities she most hoped to pass on. The process felt daunting, yet the thought of motherhood filled her with a profound sense of purpose. As the evening waned, Lexa knew that these reflections were just the beginning of her journey towards making one of the most significant decisions of her life.

After a period, Lexa felt the need to share her thoughts and get some feedback. She reached for her phone, dialed Anya, and quickly forwarded the email with the images of the alphas she was considering.

"Hey Anya, can you check your email real quick? I sent you something important," Lexa said as soon as her cousin answered the phone.

"Got it, let's see these candidates," Anya replied, her interest piqued. They started with Jacob, whose soft features and kind eyes made a good first impression. Then they moved on to Roan. "He looks exactly like what you’d expect an alpha to look like, doesn’t he?" Anya remarked, clearly impressed by his strong, intense demeanor.

Lexa chuckled, "Of course, an alpha would pick the most alpha-looking of the three."

However, the conversation took a turn when Anya opened Clarke’s image. "Oh, wow, this is a female alpha. That’s unexpected."

Lexa nodded to herself, feeling a mix of emotions. "Yeah, it adds another layer to Clarke. I've always been attracted to female alphas, but I was open to a male alpha, thinking it might be simpler for the whole baby process."

Anya paused, considering Lexa's words. "How do you feel about Clarke being in the mix now? This is a bit of a curveball."

"It is," Lexa agreed. "But honestly, seeing Clarke in there, it kind of stirred something. My ex was a female alpha, too. There’s a familiarity there."

"Sounds like Clarke’s presence is challenging some of your initial thoughts," Anya said thoughtfully. "But Lex, this is about what you want and need right now. If Clarke resonates with you more, maybe there’s more to think about here than just going the straightforward path."

Lexa took a deep breath, feeling the weight and truth in Anya’s words. "I guess you’re right. I need to think about what each option could really mean for me and the future. Clarke being a female alpha isn’t just a detail; it’s significant to how I feel about this whole process."

As they wrapped up their conversation, Lexa felt grateful for Anya’s insight and understanding. Discussing each candidate openly had clarified not just the practical considerations but also the emotional ones. Now, more than ever, Lexa knew her decision would not only be informed by what was expected but also by what felt right for her personally.

With the images of the alphas now in her possession, Lexa faced a self-imposed deadline: by Friday, she needed to make her decision. The choice she was about to make was not just about selecting an alpha but choosing a co-contributor to a life-changing journey. It would set the course for her long-held dream of becoming a mother.

Over the next two days, Lexa immersed herself in deep reflection. She had swiftly eliminated Roan from her list of potential candidates. His intensity, though initially striking, felt somewhat overpowering upon further consideration, and she realized it didn't align with the kind of parental influence she envisioned for her child.

Now, it was down to Jacob and Clarke. Jacob, with his gentle demeanor and environmental passion, seemed like a safe and rational choice. His traits aligned well with Lexa's values, and she could easily envision him as a positive genetic influence on her child. Yet, despite the logical fit Jacob presented, Lexa found her thoughts repeatedly drifting back to Clarke.

Clarke's presence in the selection process had been unexpected and impactful. As a female alpha, she brought a familiar dynamic that resonated deeply with Lexa, reminding her of the past. Lexa had to admit, there was a certain allure and comfort in the idea of choosing a female alpha.

Sitting at her dining room table with both profiles laid out before her, Lexa pondered whether her inclination towards Clarke was primarily influenced by her being a female alpha. Was it the novelty and emotional resonance of Clarke's status that drew her in, or was there something more substantial in Clarke's profile that connected with her own aspirations and dreams?

Lexa spent hours dissecting every detail in their profiles, weighing not just the emotional but also the pragmatic aspects of each choice. She considered not just who they were on paper, but who they might be in her life while conceiving a child. As she mulled over her options, Lexa tried to separate her feelings about their alpha status from what each could potentially offer as a co-contributor to her child’s genetic and cultural heritage.

By Thursday evening, a decision began to crystallize in her mind. Lexa realized that her choice needed to be based on a balance of emotional resonance and practical considerations, a decision that felt right both in her heart and her mind.

Friday morning dawned with a sense of resolution for Lexa. She had made her decision, and though nerves fluttered in her stomach, she was ready to take the next step. Sitting at her dining room table with her phone in hand, she dialed the number for the agency, her finger lingering over the call button for a moment before she pressed it.

"Marlene speaking, how may I assist you today?" came the familiar, professional voice from the other end.

"Hi Marlene, it’s Lexa Woods," she responded, her voice steady but with an undercurrent of anxiety. "I’ve made my decision regarding the alpha. I wanted to discuss it with you and see what the next steps are."

"That's great to hear, Lexa," Marlene replied warmly. "I know this has been a thoughtful process for you. Who have you decided to go with?"

After a slight pause, filled with a momentary doubt, Lexa affirmed, "I’ve chosen Clarke."

"Clarke, excellent choice," Marlene said. "She brings a unique perspective and strengths. What ultimately led you to this decision?"

Lexa hesitated, feeling a brief resurgence of her earlier indecision. "Well, there’s a lot about Clarke that resonates with me, her background, her values... and I guess the fact that she's a female alpha adds another layer of connection. I just hope I’ve made the right choice," Lexa confessed, a hint of uncertainty lacing her words.

"Choosing an alpha is always a significant and personal decision, Lexa. It’s normal to have some last-minute doubts, but it’s important that it feels right to you. Let’s arrange a meeting with Clarke. You two can discuss everything openly, and it will also be a chance for you to address any concerns you might have before moving forward."

"That would be very helpful," Lexa agreed, feeling reassured by Marlene's calm and understanding tone. "I think meeting her will give me the clarity to move forward confidently."

"Perfect," Marlene responded. "I’ll arrange for you both to meet and discuss the details. You’ll also have the opportunity to sign the contracts, ensuring everything is transparent and agreed upon. I’ll look for some potential dates and get back to you as soon as possible."

"Thank you, Marlene," Lexa said, relief washing over her. "I appreciate all your help."

"You’re welcome, Lexa. We're here to make sure that you are comfortable and confident in your decisions. I’ll be in touch very soon with some dates for the meeting," Marlene assured her.

As Lexa ended the call, she felt a weight lift off her shoulders. The decision was made, and a plan was in place. The thought of meeting Clarke and discussing the future brought a mix of excitement and a newfound peace. Lexa knew that whatever doubts she had would likely be settled once she and Clarke could sit down and talk face to face.

Marlene had been efficient and considerate in her arrangements. She set the meeting for two weeks out, giving Lexa and Clarke ample time to prepare for their first encounter. The date was marked on Lexa’s calendar, each day inching closer filled with a blend of anticipation and nerves.

Finally, the day of the meeting arrived. Lexa stood in front of her closet in the morning, her mind racing with the unusual complexity of choosing the right outfit. "What do you wear to a meeting with someone you are contractually going to be sleeping with in order to create a child?" she muttered to herself. The question was as surreal as her situation.

After much deliberation, Lexa opted for something that struck a balance between professional and comfortable—an elegant blouse paired with well-fitted trousers. It was important to her that she present herself as both serious about the arrangement and approachable.

Driving to the agency, Lexa’s hands were slightly shaking on the steering wheel. Her mind was a whirlwind of what-ifs and hopes. As she parked her car and walked toward the office building, she took deep, deliberate breaths, trying to calm her racing heart.

The agency’s office was a space Lexa had become familiar with over the past weeks, but today, it seemed to hold a new form of gravity. Marlene greeted her warmly at the door, her smile reassuring.

"Clarke just arrived. She’s waiting in the meeting room," Marlene informed her, leading the way.

Lexa’s steps felt heavy yet determined as she approached the room. Marlene opened the door, and there sat Clarke, just as striking in person as she was in her photo. Her presence seemed to command the room, yet there was a softness in her eyes as she looked up and met Lexa’s gaze.

"Lexa, meet Clarke. Clarke, this is Lexa," Marlene introduced.

"Hi, Lexa," Clarke said, standing up to shake her hand. Her voice was calm, carrying a hint of warmth that eased some of Lexa's tension.

"Hello, Clarke," Lexa replied, her voice steadier than she felt. The handshake was firm and brief, but Lexa felt a surprising jolt of connection—an electric mix of nerves and excitement.

Marlene excused herself, leaving them to converse privately. "I’ll give you both some space to discuss. If you need anything, I'll be right outside," she said before closing the door gently behind her.

In the quiet confines of the meeting room, the air thick with anticipation, Lexa and Clarke faced each other. Their initial nervousness was palpable, each aware of the significance and unusual nature of their meeting. Clarke, sensing the growing tension, decided it was time to steer the conversation towards more familiar ground.

"So, Lexa," Clarke began, her tone casual yet curious, "Marlene didn't tell me much about your professional background. What do you do for a living?"

Lexa, slightly surprised by the shift towards personal details, replied, "I'm an accountant. I spend most of my days surrounded by numbers and spreadsheets."

Clarke chuckled softly, her eyes lighting up with a mix of amusement and relief at the shift to lighter conversation. "Oh, numbers and I have never been best friends. I was always the one in class who thought 'algebra' was a foreign language," she joked, a playful smile crossing her features.

Lexa found herself smiling genuinely for the first time since the meeting began, the tension easing from her shoulders. Clarke's humor and light-heartedness were infectious, and it helped Lexa feel more at ease. Encouraged by the more relaxed atmosphere, Lexa decided to learn more about Clarke's interests.

"I saw in your profile that you’re an artist," Lexa said, her tone shifting to one of genuine interest. "What kind of art do you do?"

Clarke’s face brightened at the question, clearly passionate about her craft. "I work mostly with mixed media. I love exploring textures and layers—there’s something about the tactile process of creating something tangible that really excites me. It’s a way to express emotions that words can’t always capture."

Lexa nodded, intrigued. "That sounds fascinating. Art seems like such a freeing way to express oneself."

"It really is," Clarke agreed, her enthusiasm evident. "And every piece feels like a part of me, yet once it’s done, it belongs to the world, not just to me."

Their conversation flowed more naturally now, the earlier awkwardness fading as they discussed their respective careers. Lexa felt a newfound appreciation for Clarke's artistic perspective, contrasting yet complementing her own methodical, numbers-driven approach. The dialogue not only bridged their understanding of each other’s professional lives but also built a deeper, more personal connection that eased their initial apprehensions about the arrangements ahead.

After Lexa and Clarke had spent some time getting to know each other and discussing their backgrounds, the door to the conference room opened, and Marlene re-entered, a stack of papers in hand. She approached the table with a professional smile, setting down the documents before them.

"Looks like you two have been having a good conversation," Marlene observed, taking a seat at the head of the table. She then shifted into her role as the facilitator of the process, her demeanor becoming more formal as she prepared to discuss the contracts and legalities. "I have here the draft contracts for your arrangement. Let's go through these together to ensure everything is clear and that all parties' expectations are met."

Marlene spread the documents out so both Lexa and Clarke could see them. She began to go through each section meticulously, explaining the legal jargon and what it meant in practical terms. "This section here outlines the obligations of both parties, including medical examinations, confidentiality agreements, and the planned schedule for the conception process," she explained, pointing to each clause as she spoke.

She then moved on to a critical part of the contract. "It's very important that both of you understand that this agreement is based on mutual consent and comfort levels. If at any point, for any reason, either of you feels that this arrangement isn't working out, you can withdraw from the contract." Marlene looked at both Lexa and Clarke earnestly, ensuring her point was clear. "This clause here provides the details on how to terminate the agreement respectfully and legally without facing any penalties."

Marlene paused to allow Lexa and Clarke to absorb the information, checking their faces for any signs of confusion or concern. "Do either of you have any questions about this part, or is there anything in the agreement that you would like to discuss further or modify?"

Lexa and Clarke exchanged a glance, both appreciating the agency's emphasis on their comfort and autonomy within the process. Clarke nodded, indicating she understood and appreciated the terms, "It's reassuring to know that there's flexibility if the circumstances change."

Lexa echoed Clarke’s sentiment. "Yes, I agree. It's important to have a way out if things don’t feel right. It makes the whole arrangement feel safer, more considered."

Marlene nodded, pleased with their responses. "Absolutely, we want to make sure you both feel secure and supported throughout this process." She then continued to go through the rest of the contract, covering financial arrangements, the handling of medical data, and the support services the agency would provide.

As the meeting drew to a close, Marlene handed each of them a pen. "Take your time to read through everything once more on your own. If you’re ready, you can sign today, or you can take the contracts home and think things over. We want you to make a decision when you're completely ready."

As Marlene finished outlining the terms and left the choice to sign immediately or take the contracts home for further consideration, Clarke turned her gaze towards Lexa, silently seeking her input on how to proceed. The moment was charged with significance; the decision to sign now would cement their agreement, setting them firmly on a path toward a shared, albeit unique, journey.

Lexa held Clarke’s gaze for a moment, the weight of the decision pressing down on her. She could feel the flutter of nerves in her stomach, but beneath that, a steady current of resolve. This was what she wanted, and every interaction and discussion up to this point had only solidified her confidence in her choice.

Finally, with a nod to herself, Lexa reached for the pen that Marlene had placed on the table. Her hand was steady as she picked it up, and with a decisive motion, she signed her name on the dotted line. The sound of the pen scratching against the paper seemed to echo in the room, marking a significant milestone in her journey to motherhood.

Clarke watched Lexa sign, noting the determination and clarity in her actions. Seeing Lexa make her decision with such resolve helped dispel any lingering hesitations Clarke might have had. Inspired by Lexa's confidence and encouraged by the thoroughness and fairness of the contract, Clarke picked up her own pen. With a thoughtful look at Lexa, acknowledging her readiness and mutual commitment, Clarke signed her name as well.

As they both put their pens down, a sense of relief and anticipation filled the room. Marlene, witnessing this, offered them both a warm, reassuring smile. "Thank you both for your trust and courage in this process. I’ll make sure everything is processed promptly, and I’ll be here to support you both through every step that follows."

Lexa and Clarke exchanged a look, a silent acknowledgment of the journey they had just agreed to embark on together. There was a mutual understanding that while the road ahead would be uncharted and not without its challenges, they were now linked by a shared commitment to bring a new life into the world, each in their respective roles.

As Lexa and Clarke gathered their belongings and prepared to leave the conference room, Marlene interjected with one final point of order, outlining the next steps in their newly formalized agreement.

"Before you both go, I want to discuss the logistics of your first official meeting," Marlene began, her tone shifting back to her professional demeanor. "The agency has protocols in place to ensure the safety and comfort of all parties involved, especially during initial meetings."

She pulled out a small tablet and tapped a few times on the screen, pulling up a schedule. "We prefer to arrange the meetings on neutral ground. It helps maintain privacy and provides a secure environment for both of you." Marlene looked up from her tablet, making sure she had both Lexa and Clarke’s attention.

"For this purpose, we usually arrange for a hotel room. This setting not only ensures confidentiality but also allows you both to meet in a neutral, comfortable environment without the pressures or personal biases that might come from meeting in a more personal space," Marlene explained. She assured them that the agency had longstanding arrangements with a reputable hotel chain known for its discretion and high standards of service.

"We’ll handle all the bookings and logistics. You won’t need to worry about any of the arrangements," she continued. "I’ll send you both the details and date options for your first meeting. You can choose what works best for both of you."

Marlene’s explanation provided a clear framework for how the initial stages of their agreement would proceed, emphasizing the agency’s commitment to maintaining a professional and secure process. "Safety and comfort are our top priorities. We want to ensure that both of you feel secure and at ease during your meetings."

Lexa and Clarke nodded in understanding, appreciating the thoroughness with which the agency was handling the situation. The idea of meeting in a hotel for the first few times made sense, and the agency’s attention to detail and safety was reassuring.

"Once I have everything arranged, I will send you an email with all the information, including the date, time, and location of the hotel. You will both have access to the private suite, and agency staff will be available on-call, should you need any assistance during the meeting," Marlene concluded, her tone both serious and comforting.

With everything laid out so clearly and professionally, Lexa and Clarke felt more confident about the steps ahead. They thanked Marlene for her assistance and left the office with a sense of readiness for the next phases of their journey together. The agency’s meticulous planning and support made a complex process seem manageable and secure.

As soon as Lexa got back into her car, she couldn't resist the urge to share the events of the meeting with Anya. She quickly dialed her cousin, who picked up after just a couple of rings.

"Hey, Lex, how did it go?" Anya's voice was eager but tinged with concern.

"It was... good, really good," Lexa began, her voice carrying a mix of relief and excitement. "Clarke is nothing like I expected. She’s very grounded and seems genuinely interested in making sure this works out for the best."

"Oh? And how does she look? Did she match up to her picture?" Anya asked, her tone playful yet probing.

Lexa laughed softly, a blush creeping across her cheeks even though Anya couldn’t see it. "Yes, she looks just like her photo. But her eyes, Anya, they’re this striking shade of blue. It’s almost mesmerizing."

There was a brief pause before Anya responded, her voice now carrying a note of caution. "Lex, remember this is a business arrangement. Don’t get carried away because of pretty eyes. You told me she’s there for the money, right?"

Lexa sighed, knowing Anya was just looking out for her. "Yes, I know. And yes, the financial aspect is a part of this for her, like it is for many alphas. But she doesn’t make it feel transactional, you know? She's professional but also really considerate."

Switching topics slightly, Lexa then shared more details about the arrangements that had been made for their upcoming interactions. "Marlene arranged for us to meet in a hotel. It’s a neutral place, which the agency has set up for safety and privacy. They’ve really thought of everything to make sure both parties feel secure."

Anya listened intently, her initial skepticism giving way to understanding. "That sounds sensible. They seem to be handling things very professionally. Just... be careful, Lex. I know you, and I know how easily you can get attached."

Lexa nodded to herself, taking in Anya’s advice. "I’ll be careful. I promise. I’m going into this with my eyes wide open—figuratively and literally," she added with a chuckle, trying to keep the mood light.

"Good to hear," Anya replied, her tone softening. "Keep me updated, okay? And if you need to talk, anytime, I’m here."

"Will do. Thanks, Anya. I really appreciate it," Lexa said, feeling grateful for having someone like Anya to confide in.

With that, they ended the call, and Lexa sat for a moment in the quiet of her car, reflecting on the conversation. She felt a blend of caution and excitement—a cocktail of emotions that she would need to manage carefully as she navigated this uncharted path.

Lexa stared at the computer screen, her eyes tracing over the details outlined in the email. The room at the Arkadia Hotel was booked under the agency's name, providing an added layer of privacy and discretion with the room number assigned to Lexa being "439". The preparations were meticulous, reflecting the seriousness and sensitivity of their upcoming encounter.

As she absorbed the reality of the arrangement, Lexa's mind wandered to the intricate details of alpha and omega biology—a fundamental aspect that dictated the unique way they could conceive. The biological necessity for an alpha to 'knot' during intercourse to successfully conceive was an evolutionary trait, deeply embedded in their genetics. It was a process designed to enhance the probability of conception, ensuring that during the crucial moments, the alpha's body could maximize the chance of fertilizing the omega's egg.

This biological imperative was at the forefront of Lexa's thoughts as she contemplated her meeting with Clarke. The concept was still somewhat surreal to her. On one hand, the scientific aspect of it made sense, and she respected the biological processes involved. On the other hand, facing the reality of engaging intimately with someone who was essentially a stranger, even with mutual agreement and understanding, was daunting.

The part of Lexa that hesitated wasn't concerned with the logistics or the biological necessities—those were facts she had come to terms with when she decided on this path. Instead, it was the emotional aspect, the vulnerability of sharing such a personal experience with someone she hadn't known long. Yet, despite these reservations, the stronger part of her—the part driven by her deep desire to become a mother—was prepared to move forward.

As she sat there, Lexa reminded herself why she had chosen this path. It wasn't just about fulfilling her desire to have a child; it was about doing so in a way that felt right to her, under terms she had carefully considered and agreed upon. Clarke, too, had her reasons for participating, and their prior meeting had laid a foundation of mutual respect and understanding.

With each passing moment, Lexa's resolve grew stronger. She knew that the biological processes were just one part of the equation. The more significant component was her readiness to embrace the responsibilities and joys of motherhood. By the time she closed her laptop, Lexa felt a quiet confidence. She was ready for Saturday—not just to meet the biological demands of the process, but to take a significant step towards a future she had long envisioned for herself.

Lexa arrived at the Arkadia Hotel promptly at 4 PM, her heart pounding with a mixture of nerves and resolve. The hotel's lobby was bustling with activity, but she navigated through it with a sense of purpose, her focus fixed on the task ahead. At the front desk, she confirmed her identity discreetly, referring only to the reservation number and the agency's name. The clerk handed her a key card with a polite, professional smile that didn't probe too deeply into the reasons for her stay.

With key card in hand, Lexa made her way to her room, her steps measured and her mind racing. The hallways of the hotel were elegantly carpeted and softly lit, creating an atmosphere of privacy and tranquility that helped soothe her escalating anxiety. Each step brought her closer to a moment that might very well define her future.

Standing before the door marked with the number 439, Lexa paused, her hand hovering over the key card reader. She knew that behind this door, preparations would need to be made, both mentally and physically, before Clarke's arrival. The agency had arranged for Clarke to arrive later, giving Lexa ample time to acclimate to the environment, to settle her thoughts, and to prepare herself emotionally and physically for what was to come.

All she had to do was swipe the key card and step inside. Taking a deep breath, Lexa steadied her trembling hand and slid the card through the reader. The light blinked green, and a soft click signaled her access. Pushing the door open, she stepped into the room.

The room was tastefully decorated, neutral tones and soft lighting crafting a calming environment. There was an understated elegance to it, conducive to both comfort and privacy. Lexa let her gaze sweep over the space—the king bed, the sitting area with its inviting sofa, and a small work desk that faced a large window with curtains drawn.

Closing the door behind her, Lexa allowed herself a few moments to just stand and absorb the reality of her surroundings. This was the setting where she hoped her dream of motherhood would begin to materialize. It felt surreal, yet incredibly real at the same time.

She placed her small overnight bag on the bed, unpacking a few personal items to make the space feel more familiar. Lexa then spent some time simply sitting on the edge of the bed, collecting her thoughts. She reflected on her journey to this point—the decisions made, the fears confronted, and the hopes cherished.

As the time ticked closer to 6 PM, Lexa prepared herself, changing into something comfortable yet appropriate for the occasion. She reminded herself why she was here, focusing on the positive outcomes she hoped to achieve. This was about more than just the mechanics of conception; it was about taking control of her destiny and shaping the future she desired.

By the time Lexa heard a knock at the door just after 6 PM, signaling Clarke’s arrival, she felt a renewed sense of purpose and clarity. She was ready to open the door, not just to Clarke, but to the possibilities that lay ahead.

Lexa walked to the door, taking a deep breath to steady her nerves. She reached out, her hand almost trembling as she turned the handle. The door swung open, and there stood Clarke, her presence as compelling in person as it had been in their previous meeting. Clarke offered Lexa a shy, somewhat tentative smile—a softening of her usually confident demeanor that made her seem more approachable in this intensely personal setting.

"Hi, Lexa," Clarke greeted with a quiet warmth, her voice carrying a hint of nervous anticipation.

"Hello, Clarke. Come in," Lexa replied, stepping aside to allow Clarke entry into the room. Her heart was beating fast, but she managed to maintain a composed exterior.

Clarke stepped past the threshold, her eyes quickly scanning the room as she entered. The soft lighting and tasteful decor seemed to impress her, and a small, appreciative smile appeared on her face. "This is a nice room," she commented, her tone carrying genuine approval. "The agency really does ensure comfort, don't they?"

"Yes, they do," Lexa responded, closing the door behind Clarke. She felt a slight relief that the initial moment of greeting was over, and now they could proceed with the reason they were both there. "They try to make this as comfortable as possible for everyone involved."

Clarke nodded, setting down a small bag she had brought with her. She looked around, taking in the environment that would play a significant role in the next steps they were about to take. The room, was designed to be calming, a sanctuary from the outside world and the weight of the decisions made within its confines.

Turning back to Lexa, Clarke's initial shyness seemed to melt away slightly as she became more accustomed to the setting. "I appreciate the effort to make everything feel serene. It helps," she admitted, meeting Lexa’s eyes with a more steady gaze.

Lexa nodded, feeling a similar gratitude for the care taken to create a space that respected the gravity of their meeting. "I agree. It makes things a little easier," she said, managing a small smile.

There was a brief pause as both women acknowledged the situation, the room serving as a silent witness to their agreement and the hopes tied to it. Then, almost instinctively, Lexa gestured towards the small sitting area. "Would you like something to drink? Maybe some water or coffee before we... start?"

Clarke agreed, appreciating the offer to ease into the moment more gently. "Water would be great, thank you," she said, her voice steady but still carrying a trace of the nerves they both felt.

As Lexa went to get the water, the air between them filled with a quiet acknowledgment of the partnership they were about to embark upon, each aware of the significance of their actions, yet comforted by the shared understanding and the meticulously arranged environment that surrounded them.

Clarke made her way to the sofa, settling into the soft cushions with a slight exhale that betrayed her underlying nervousness. Lexa opened the mini-fridge, retrieving a bottle of water which she handed to Clarke with a gentle, reassuring smile. The small, ordinary gesture seemed to anchor them both amidst the swirling emotions of the occasion.

Lexa lingered by the edge of the sitting area, her hands clasped in front of her, unsure of her next move. The room, while comfortable and inviting, suddenly felt too vast, filled with unspoken expectations and the weight of their impending decision.

Clarke noticed Lexa's hesitation and patted the space next to her on the sofa. "Why don't you sit here?" she suggested, her voice carrying a soft but clear invitation. "It might be more comfortable to talk this way."

Lexa nodded, grateful for Clarke's lead. She moved to the sofa, taking a seat at a respectful distance that still allowed for private conversation. She could feel the warmth of Clarke's presence beside her, a comforting reminder that they were in this together.

Once settled, Clarke unscrewed the cap of her water bottle and took a sip, then turned slightly to face Lexa. She initiated some light conversation, perhaps recognizing the need to ease into the deeper discussions that lay ahead. "So, how was your day before coming here? Anything interesting happen?"

Lexa took a moment to switch gears from the intense internal monologue she had been engaged in all day. "Oh, it was pretty routine," she replied, managing a small chuckle. "Just some last-minute work stuff and mentally preparing for today. What about you? Did you find time to do any art today?"

Clarke shook her head, a rueful smile playing on her lips. "Not today, unfortunately. But I did spend some time in the studio yesterday. It helps clear my mind, you know?"

"Yeah, I can imagine," Lexa responded, feeling the conversation begin to flow more naturally between them. "Art seems like a great way to express and maybe even sort through feelings, especially with everything that's going on."

Clarke nodded, visibly relaxed as the topic turned to her passion for art. "Exactly. It's not just about creating something beautiful or interesting. It's also therapeutic. It gives me a space to process things—a bit like an escape, but also a way to confront emotions directly."

As they continued talking, the atmosphere between Lexa and Clarke began to shift subtly. Clarke's discussion about her art opened a window into her inner world, showing Lexa the passion and depth that motivated her work. The conversation seemed to flow effortlessly now, with each topic leading seamlessly into the next, covering everything from favorite artists to the influence of different art forms on society.

The air lightened around them, filled with shared laughter and nods of understanding, as the initial awkwardness melted away under the warmth of genuine connection. They found common ground in unexpected places and differed in others, which only added layers to their interaction, making it richer, more textured.

About 30 minutes into their conversation, as they were discussing the emotional power of color in visual art, Clarke reached out and gently took Lexa's hand. Lexa felt a sudden impulse to retract her hand, startled by the unexpected contact. The moment hung between them, charged with the potential for deeper connection or withdrawal. But as she met Clarke’s eyes, Lexa saw the intention there—soft, unassuming, aiming to add a layer of intimacy and reassurance to their conversation.

Understanding Clarke’s gesture as an effort to bridge the gap between them further, Lexa relaxed and allowed her hand to stay in Clarke’s gentle grasp. The touch was comforting, grounding, and it brought a new level of openness to their dialogue.

Clarke’s thumb brushed lightly over Lexa’s hand, a soothing motion that seemed to anchor them both more firmly in the present moment. "Art is my way of understanding the world, and sometimes of escaping it," Clarke shared, her voice soft but resonant. "It's personal, yes, but sharing it feels like extending a part of myself to others, hoping they might understand or feel something too."

Lexa nodded, feeling the truth of those words resonate within her. "I think that's brave—putting a piece of yourself into your work and then putting it out there for the world to see and experience."

The atmosphere between Lexa and Clarke thickened with unspoken promises as the moments stretched on, each second building upon the last. Clarke's gaze intensified, conveying a mix of curiosity and boldness as she leaned in closer to Lexa. Her movements were deliberate, aimed at closing the distance between them with a cautious yet clear intent. When their eyes met, there was a silent exchange, a question posed and an answer given without words.

Clarke's lips touched Lexa's softly at first, a gentle test of boundaries that was sweet and tentative. The world around them seemed to pause, holding its breath along with them. Lexa's response was subtle but encouraging, enough to spur Clarke on. Pulling back slightly, Clarke searched Lexa’s eyes once more, seeking reassurance. What she found was a quiet acceptance, a willingness to explore the emotions that were beginning to simmer between them.

Emboldened by Lexa's silent affirmation, Clarke leaned in once more, this time with a firmer resolve. Her lips met Lexa's with more purpose, conveying a deeper intent. The kiss deepened, driven by a blend of newfound affection and a shared desire to discover more about each other through this new, unspoken language.

As the intensity of their kisses grew, so did their need for each other's closeness. The initial cautious exploration gave way to a more passionate expression of their burgeoning connection. Clarke’s hands found their way to Lexa's cheeks, holding her gently yet firmly, anchoring her as they navigated this new terrain together. Lexa responded in kind, her hands threading through Clarke's hair, pulling her closer, deepening their embrace.

The kisses evolved, becoming a profound dialogue of their lips and breaths, each kiss building upon the last, growing more fervent, more insistent. The connection sparked between them ignited something deeper, a flame that had been cautiously kindled now threatening to burn brightly.

Eventually, the need for air forced them apart, and they pulled back, each catching their breath, their foreheads resting against each other. Their breaths mingled in the small space between them, heavy and warm. The room around them came back into focus slowly, the sounds of the city beyond the walls creeping back into their awareness.

Clarke and Lexa remained close, neither willing to break the connection entirely. Their eyes met again, this time reflecting a mix of wonder and a hint of vulnerability after sharing such a potent moment. The initial purpose of their arrangement still loomed in the background, but what had transpired between them now added a profound layer of intimacy and complexity to their relationship. This was no longer just about an agreement or a process—it was about them, here and now, together in a way that was unexpectedly profound.

In the quiet aftermath of their breathless exchange, the air between Clarke and Lexa was charged with a new, palpable energy. Clarke, sensing the shift in their dynamic, slowly stood up from the sofa. There was a silent invitation in her posture, a gentle yet unmistakable beckoning as she extended her hand toward Lexa.

Lexa watched Clarke's movement, a myriad of emotions flickering across her face. There was a moment of hesitation, a brief internal debate visible in her eyes as she considered Clarke's offered hand. It symbolized more than just a physical gesture; it was an invitation to continue exploring the depth of connection they had unexpectedly discovered.

With a subtle nod to herself, as if making a decision, Lexa placed her hand in Clarke’s. The contact was electric, reigniting the spark that had flared between them moments before. Pulled by a force that felt both thrilling and inevitable, Lexa stood, bringing her face to face with Clarke once again.

They stood there, hand in hand, close enough to feel each other's breath. The world around them seemed to fade, narrowing down to the space they shared. Lexa's eyes locked onto Clarke's, searching, questioning, and finding answers in the deep blue that stared back at her with an intensity that matched her own.

Without breaking eye contact, Clarke leaned in, her movements deliberate and full of intention. Lexa’s breath hitched, her body and mind anticipating the contact that was to come. As their lips met again, the kiss was different from the ones before. This time it was charged with the energy of standing together, of the decision to step into this space as equals, partners in whatever was unfolding between them.

The kiss deepened naturally, their bodies instinctively moving closer until they were embracing fully, the world around them completely forgotten. Clarke's hands moved to Lexa’s lower back, pulling her closer, while Lexa’s arms wrapped around Clarke’s neck, anchoring herself to the moment, to Clarke.

In that kiss, they communicated more than could be expressed in words. It was a promise, a commitment not just to the process they were undertaking but an acknowledgment of the vulnerability and strength found in true intimacy.

As the intensity of their kisses deepened, Clarke gently guided Lexa towards the bed, their hands intertwined, conveying trust and mutual desire. The steps were few but filled with anticipation, each one marking a deeper commitment to the moment and to each other. As they reached the edge of the bed, their lips barely parted, sustaining the connection that had now become their world.

Standing beside the bed, Clarke’s hands slowly found the edge of Lexa’s shirt. Each touch was careful, measured, filled with an unspoken question that Lexa answered with a slight nod, a breathless "yes" whispered between kisses. Clarke’s fingers trembled slightly—not with hesitation but with the gravity of the moment, aware of the trust Lexa was placing in her.

With each piece of clothing that Clarke gently removed, Lexa felt a layer of her defenses dissolve, not just exposing her skin but opening up deeper parts of herself. Clarke’s touch was reverent, filled with care and attentiveness that spoke volumes. She took her time, ensuring that each movement, each kiss that followed the removal of a garment, honored the vulnerability and strength Lexa displayed.

Lexa, for her part, felt an overwhelming sense of being cared for. It was not just the physical undressing but the way Clarke managed every action with such gentleness—it made her feel cherished in a way she hadn’t anticipated in this arrangement. Each kiss Clarke planted on her newly exposed skin wasn't just sensual but comforting, affirming their connection and Clarke’s respect for her.

As Lexa stood there, with Clarke’s hands skillfully and tenderly ensuring her comfort, she found herself more assured with each passing second. The vulnerability of being undressed was overshadowed by the security Clarke’s demeanor provided. It was a strange, beautiful dichotomy—standing there exposed yet feeling entirely safe.

When Lexa was finally free of her clothing, Clarke paused, giving her a moment to adjust. She looked into Lexa’s eyes, seeking any signs of discomfort or withdrawal. Seeing none, only a quiet gratitude and trust, Clarke leaned in for another kiss, this one conveying her appreciation for Lexa’s trust.

They moved together onto the bed, their movements synchronized, a dance guided by mutual understanding and the desire to maintain the emotional connection that had become as vital as their physical one.

As they shifted together on the soft expanse of the bed, Clarke carefully positioned herself between Lexa's legs. The air around them was thick with anticipation, yet Clarke made no immediate move to continue. Instead, she paused, her eyes lifting to meet Lexa's in a silent, searching communication. The intensity of her gaze was soft but intent, probing gently for any sign of hesitation or uncertainty in Lexa's expression.

Lexa, feeling Clarke’s gaze upon her, understood the unspoken question hanging between them. The world seemed to hold its breath as she considered her feelings, the warmth of Clarke's body an anchoring presence. In Clarke's eyes, she saw not just desire but a profound care and patience. It was clear Clarke was ready to stop at the slightest hint of reluctance, ready to put Lexa’s emotional well-being above all else.

Feeling a surge of trust and a deep, affirming connection to Clarke, Lexa reached up, her hand gently caressing Clarke’s cheek. Her touch was tender, meant to reassure as much as to give consent. With a soft smile that spoke volumes, Lexa nodded slightly, her eyes conveying her readiness and appreciation for Clarke’s considerate approach.

Clarke, receiving the clear, affirmative response she had sought, allowed a relieved and grateful smile to curve her lips. But still, she moved slowly, maintaining eye contact as she gradually resumed closing the distance between them. Her actions were deliberate and unhurried, ensuring Lexa remained comfortable.

As they lay together on the bed, the world outside the soft cocoon of their room seemed distant and unimportant. Clarke's kisses were tender and deliberate, focusing solely on Lexa's lips with a gentle insistence that spoke volumes. Each touch was filled with the silent communication that had become their language—a language of looks that asked and answered without words.

Clarke, ever attentive to Lexa's comfort and readiness, made no attempt to escalate beyond their kissing. She was content to explore the contours of Lexa's lips, the soft exchanges grounding and deepening their connection. The slow, purposeful pace she set was like a melody, soft and rhythmic, designed to soothe and affirm.

Lexa, enveloped in the warmth of Clarke's nearness, felt a blossoming desire to move forward, driven not just by physical need but by the emotional intimacy they were weaving with each kiss. Feeling a growing urgency, Lexa began to gently shift her hips beneath Clarke, a subtle movement but a clear indication of her readiness to deepen their physical connection. Her movements were hesitant at first, testing Clarke’s response, seeking to communicate her desires without disrupting the harmony of their current engagement.

Clarke, ever so perceptive to Lexa’s cues, felt the gentle undulation of Lexa's hips against her. She paused, their lips parting slightly as she sought Lexa's eyes. In them, Clarke found not just the green light she needed but a spark of deeper desire, a silent plea to bridge the gap between affection and passion.

Sensing Lexa's readiness, Clarke allowed a moment for them both to acknowledge the shift in their dynamic. She gave a small, affirming smile, her hands framing Lexa's face as if to say she understood, and she was there with her, every step of the way.

Encouraged by Lexa's clear communication, Clarke deepened their kiss, her movements becoming more assured, more aligned with the rising tide of their desires. Her hands, which had been content to cradle Lexa’s face, now wandered with purpose, tracing paths down her neck and shoulders, mapping the terrain of her skin with a reverent touch.

Lexa responded in kind, her own hands exploring Clarke’s back, pulling her closer, reducing the space between them to nothing. Their movements became a dance, a give and take that spoke of mutual desire —a dance that promised to carry them forward into the next chapter of their night together.

As the depth of their connection grew more intense, Clarke remained acutely aware of the trust Lexa had placed in her. With every move she made, Clarke was considerate, her actions measured and gentle to ensure she maintained the sanctity of that trust. When the moment came to deepen their physical connection further, Clarke approached it with a profound sense of responsibility and care.

With a reassuring look into Lexa's eyes, Clarke sought silent permission to continue, waiting for a nod of assent before proceeding. Lexa's response, a soft affirmation accompanied by a nervous but trusting smile, gave Clarke the green light she needed. Very slowly, Clarke began to slide closer, merging their bodies in the most intimate of ways.

Clarke's movements were slow, almost painstakingly so, as she carefully navigated this new level of closeness. She was acutely conscious of Lexa's reactions, watching her face for any sign of discomfort or hesitation. As Clarke gradually slid into Lexa, she made sure to control her movements, giving Lexa time to adjust to the new sensations.

"Are you alright?" Clarke whispered, her voice low and soothing.

Lexa, feeling the care with which Clarke moved, nodded, her initial tension easing under Clarke's attentive gaze. "Yes," she breathed out, a hint of relief in her voice as she found the sensation different but not unpleasant, her body slowly adapting to Clarke's presence.

Clarke paused, allowing Lexa a moment to get accustomed to the feeling, her hand gently caressing Lexa's arm in a comforting gesture. The room was filled with a tense but tender energy, each aware of the significance of the moment.

As Lexa relaxed more, Clarke continued, still cautious, moving in a rhythm dictated by Lexa's responses. Every slight adjustment, every careful motion was made with Lexa’s comfort in mind. Clarke’s focus was entirely on Lexa, ensuring that her experience was as gentle and loving as possible.

As Clarke and Lexa continued their intimate connection, the intensity of their movements gradually built up. Clarke, ever attentive to Lexa's comfort and reactions, had initially maintained a slow and gentle rhythm, ensuring that every motion was measured and considerate. However, as the moments passed, the natural progression of their physical responses began to drive the pace.

Clarke could feel the building pressure of her own impending release, a physical response that would soon reach its peak. She knew it was crucial for Lexa to be ready for her knot. This required a careful balance, speeding up her movements to match the escalating intensity while ensuring Lexa was not overwhelmed.

With a deep breath to steady her nerves and focus her intentions, Clarke began to gradually increase the rhythm of her hips, her movements becoming more deliberate. "Lexa," she murmured softly, her voice a blend of desire and concern, "I'm getting close. Just let me know if you need me to slow down, okay?"

Lexa, caught up in the rising tide of sensation, nodded, her breath coming in quicker gasps. She placed her hands on Clarke's hips, a silent signal of her engagement and readiness. Lexa's eyes, wide and focused, locked with Clarke's, communicating her trust and willingness to continue.

Clarke, reassured by Lexa's response, carefully monitored her own body's signals while also watching Lexa's reactions closely. She adjusted her movements, aligning them with Lexa's subtle cues and the increasing demands of her own body. The tempo of her hips quickened in a controlled manner, each thrust deeper and more purposeful.

As Clarke navigated this critical juncture, her focus was split between her own physiological responses and Lexa's comfort. She was acutely aware of the importance of timing and coordination in this moment for achieving their goal.

The air hummed with the rhythm of their synchronized breaths, the faint whisper of skin gliding against skin. Clarke felt the imminent onset of her climax, the pressure mounting inexorably. She continued to move with a mixture of urgency and care, prepared to guide both herself and Lexa through the intensity of the experience.

Their connection, both physical and emotional, had deepened throughout their encounter, each moment building upon the last to create a profound bond. As Clarke approached her peak, she held Lexa's gaze, seeking and finding the reassurance she needed to let go, trusting that Lexa was with her every step of the way.

As the crescendo of Clarke's movements reached its peak, the inevitable moment of release washed over her with overwhelming intensity. Her body tensed, every muscle straining under the force of her climax. The world narrowed to the profound connection between them, a visceral link that pulsed with each beat of her heart.

Overwhelmed by the surge of sensations, Clarke's strength waned, and she could no longer support herself. Gently, she collapsed onto Lexa, her breath ragged and heavy, echoing in the quiet of the room. Her body molded against Lexa's, a perfect fit that spoke volumes of their physical and emotional synchrony throughout this intimate journey.

After her release, Clarke sought to maintain their closeness, turning her face towards Lexa's neck. She pressed soft kisses there, near Lexa's pulse point where she could feel the rapid beat of Lexa's heart against her lips. Clarke’s breath warmed Lexa’s skin, her exhales becoming slower and more measured as she gradually regained her composure.

The room was filled with a palpable sense of completion and tranquility, the lingering tension dissolving into a peaceful stillness. Lexa murmured gently into Clarke's ear, her voice low and soothing, "Thank you," a simple phrase that carried the weight of her appreciation for Clarke’s participation in such a profound moment.

Lexa, feeling Clarke's weight comfortably against her, wrapped her arms around Clarke, holding her close. She responded in kind, her own breathing syncing with Clarke’s as they both relaxed into the afterglow. Lexa’s fingers trailed softly down Clarke’s back, grounding her with gentle, reassuring touches that conveyed her own deep sense of connection and care.

#my writing

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ultraviolet-cello · 4 months

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Aw man. Today's the last day of @tristampparty and I am surprisingly sad about it. I'll be catching up the days I missed at some point, but I've chucked all that I've written, including today, into a google document and I apparently wrote 7.5k words over the course of episode 6 to today.

That's! A Lot!

I really wanna thank everyone who reblogged and gave me their additional thoughts/commentary, and special thanks to Revenantghost for organizing this whole thing! you do good work for this fandom i am giving u a gold star

With that, here we go into Episode 0 - High Noon at July. CWs for pregnancy discussion and a less detailed than last time but still present analysis of sexual assault and transphobia, marked with a [CW] Ofc, spoilers for Trimax and Tristamp

Cowboy kid Knives is something u can pry from my cold dead hands but it's also,,, I don't watch a lot of westerns, but the way Knives describes it seems like he likes the high action and justice. Which yea. yeah.

A lot of ppl interpret Vash then saying that he doesn't like that sorta stuff as him having always had pacifistic tendencies but I don't really read it that way? I just see him being rather similar to Trimax Vash - chill kid with his own interests and hobbies and Knives being the very oversensitive kid so outshines him initially.

Regardless of version of Trigun (except 98. 98 didn't know shit about knives lmao), Vash and Knives have always started off wanting to coexist and be peaceful; it's just how they reacted to it later that differs. In this case, Knives wants to stand up for his friends and make a peaceful world through that, and Vash is more passive in that he just wants to have faith in humanity.

Not to mention they are kids. Young, idealistic kids. This is pre-Tesla, they don't know the extent of how horrible the world is. The loss of innocence and subsequent breakdowns relating to The Horrors is yet to come.

[CW] Mmmmm they really don't make the pregnancy imagery subtle now do they dfgkjdfjk

I also think there's like - merit in also interpreting Knives as trans. Not Just because i think he's also very trans coded (A lot of his breakdowns and story arcs have reflections in how some trans men overcompensate masculinity in a Bad Way. That's a very small subsection of trans guys btw but I am speaking from experience. I got better tho). Anyway it makes the fact that Knives is disregarding Vash's bodily autonomy very much Worse if you take the male plants are trans analogy into it.

He's so far gone that he's willing to do to Vash what would be the worst thing to be done to him; Violating his body to rebuild and make him a perfect independent ("remind him of biological reality"), physically overpowering him ("taking the aggressor, commonly masculine role in sexual assault") to do what he wants. Disregarding the wants and needs of the Plants ("women +fem-presenting ppl that he originally set out to protect because he knew their experience and wanted to help and still has that trauma from witnessing that trauma")

Ofc that's just a reading of the scene, but I quite like it as a trans guy because that makes a really good villain with trans themes/motifs! I hate him so much (affectionate)

No, no she doesn't. Meryl is making a choice and she's gonna damn well stick to it! She's been given agency and she's gonna spend it in the most eldritch horrific scene that someone on that planet could spend it lmao. Well, no Knives takes most eldritch and horrific. Meryl's second tho

Okay this fucking scene drives me INSANE. This is a memory, clearly, but it's one that's being tampered with. Vash asks Knives if they can get along with humans, and then Knives immediately messes with the memory to make sure that he says that he'll protect Vash no matter what. But that is very clearly not what was originally said, so... What did he say? What was present day Knives so desperate to cut off?

I've talked about the narrative being biased against Knives a lot, but something I haven't talked about is that Knives kinda tries to contribute to that narrative a lot. He wants to seem like he never cared about humans, he wants to seem like he always planned this and was going for justice ever since he was a kid. He tells Vash the Tesla incident was just a small grain of sand, he uses Luida to tell everyone he wants to kill Rem, he's unbearably cruel to Vash to make his point. The only difference is that he wants to be right.

So he doesn't let us see what the kid version of him says, because that would contradict the narrative he's built for himself.

I really wanna give props to Studio Orange here for both the design and way they modelled the wing here, that's a really difficult task when the guy you're putting a wing on has a tight as hell bodysuit. But the anatomy holds up surprisingly well!

Also many people have pointed out that the plant mech looks a lot like Rem, and Knives staring into the face of a Plantish representation of his mother that is created and controlled subconsciously by his brother and saying he was rejected is. It sure is a scene!

ONCE AGAIN. INCREDIBLE EFFECTS. I also would like to once again point out the angelic motifs of Knives' design here.

Also Vash saying this is SO important because Meryl!!! is so important!!! I see a lot of people brush Meryl's space in the story off and it Enrages me because Meryl is one of the most important people to Vash. Aside from our frontline yaoi soldier Nicholas D. Wolfwood, Meryl has one of the most tangible impacts on Vash's character.

When Vash is in his breakdown in Trimax, Meryl is the one to kneel at his side and believe in him; When Vash is having his god awful horrible mindscape time in Tristamp, Meryl does the same. When Meryl is kidnapped in Trimax, Vash instantly jumps out of a window in the chance of getting her back. Vash trusted her enough to fire the ion cannon in the sand steamer episode. He immediately went to July the moment she and Roberto were kidnapped.

Meryl has so much faith in Vash and she's insane for that, but Vash recognizes her and that faith pays off in giving him the strength to carry on. He heard her voice, too :]

Also oh to be floating slowly down to the floor while you're a meter away from a cube with the power of an atom bomb while someone named Millions Knives is summoning millions of knives in front of u. Meryl has guts, man.

And now that Vash has gotten his gun back, he's back to using it as a tonfa! (check I think my analysis of episode 7 for more on that). Watching for the swing blocks, the forearm guard, and thwacking the knife tendrils out of the way

This fight scene has soooo much love and care and detail in it I love it so much actually. From seeing Vash's bullets to all the expressions and beautifully detailed firing, there's so much detail in a quick space that you really have to slow it down to see everything.

Seriously how strong is Knives to be able to have a feasible chance again Vash's prosthetic - and Vash matches him! Also the chomp

Now something that I have the shakiest of theories on is that after summoning The Cube, Vash starts moving in a far more controlled manner, he stands still when reloading, he has his movement flurries and then stands still to aim. Which uh. Studio Orange works in 3d, but those are 2d animation techniques. He's moving like 98 Vash.

There's a lot I admire about Studio Orange's use of 3d (I am a mid-tier 2d artist lmao) but I love love love that they're able to get all these really nice, creative camera shots that would be impractical in 2d (all those overhead shots, for example, have a chance of turning about bad/looking weird in 2d, and puts more strain on animators, but 3d you have the models from every angle already. 3d isn't easier by any means, but it does have its strengths)

Also. how Did Wolfwood get over here, dare I ask. mans climbed a tower in just a few minutes what is Wrong with him

Also a nice detail, Vash usually has perfect trigger discipline, but he falters here against Knives, probably because he's been already shooting, but hey, he's stressed. I'll give him a break.

I also appreciate exactly how superhuman Wolfwood is now. Tristamp Wolfwood is on a different level. Like 98 Wolfwood is just some (attractive) guy, Trimax Wolfwood has a lot of gory body horror going on and a subtle kind of endurance/strength, but Tristamp Wolfwood just jumped off a very tall building holding a grown woman and the Punisher and was fine.

Oh hey, same symbol on the tower as was on the sandsteamer and on Vash's wanted poster - symbol of July, probably

Very horribly, Knives probably did just save Vash's life here. But also the rest of July's life (though ofc he just extended the timer)....

I'm not quite sure When Vash started using plant bullets, but he's definitely using them now. Also the nails on his prosthetic are a nice touch!

THE FLYING SAUCER STRIKES AGAIN. I wonder if that's gonna be the basis of the Ark, if that's the route season 2 goes.

I also. Was that allI the Plants collected that escaped in this, or were there a bunch still running in July that get obliterated too? Did Knives inadvertently cause the death of more plants? I mean, when Knives gets revived in Trimax he definitely causes the death of at least 2 plants (there are a couple of bulbs in the background of the blast radius, plus the one that was used to revive him... she uh. Didn't look like she was doing so hot)

Vash's little speech is always so,,, intense. He has such a strong sense of character and it's admirable how well he sticks to his morals despite it all.

On a more body horror note, Knives can survive a long fucking time trying to grab The Cube. In Trimax he gets hit with the angel arm and practically disemboweled instantly, but Tristamp Knives can take over a minute of just like. being right in the direct path of fire. They're really gonna have to work to reconstruct him. Good luck, Legato!

UFO SPOTTED !!! LEAVING JULY AS IT IS DESTROYED !! NOT CLICKBAIT !!!

^ I made that long ago and needed to use it somewhere dfgkjdfg

[RAUCOUS CHEERING]

And ofc I have to bring up Eriks :] I don't actually have too much to say abt him. Studio Orange strip this man and make him bark like a dog next season or we will riot

CHRONICA MENTION!!!!! YAYYYYYY

And that's kinda. It.

Man I have had such fun over the last 12 days, I've really discovered a love for analyzing and theories and putting that out there and chatting with people about Trigun :] I should do this more often lmao but I do want to get back to drawing. I'll find a balance, then!

Thank you all for coming, and Wow if you made it this far I must be doing something right lmao.

#cli speaks #trigun #trigun stampede #tristampparty #cli analysis

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railingsofsorrow · 1 month

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Epilogue

[peter parker x reader]

summary: harry finds your behaviour slightly suspicious & there's an evening spent between friends.

pairing: p.parker x f!reader; slightly harry osborn x f!reader; mj x felicia hardy.

w.c: 3.3K

warnings/content: jealousy; injuries (mentioned); protective harry osborn; language; migraines (mentioned); clumsy but committed peter parker (yes, he learnt from his mistakes. finally); discussion about the multiverse theory; angst but there's more fluff this time sadly; minor character's death (mentioned).

A/N: this fic has come to an end :( it was fun writing this. my first experience in writing a short spiderman fic, it was so hard to come up with a good ending and it probably still not perfect but I feel like it's a good enough one. I hope you like it too and that you'll come back to read more of my spiderman stuff, cause there will definitely be more! good reading, people <3

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“So they're just gone?”

You turn your neck to glare at your friend. Ever since you mentioned your migraines to him one day and he saw one of your episodes once or twice — a little bit more than that — he hasn't stopped bugging you about it. He wanted you to go to the doctors to get checked out. Until, well. Until the migraines miraculously vanished. Your head never bothered you anymore and you're even sleeping better, given the lack of dark circles around your eyes.

Harry wasn’t having it.

First and foremost, he did not believe continuous migraines were cured just like that. Overnight. Because how come he saw you incapable of watching a lecture one day and you're perfectly fine on the other?

Either you are popping some pills or someone magically healed you.

He didn't like any of the options.

He was still worried, okay? Harry cares. He may not be loud with it, but it's you, so he cares. And he cares a lot. You should know better than to just outright lie to him.

“Yes. Why does it matter? I'm fine, shouldn't you be happy I'm no longer whining on your shoulder?”

“You're not taking drugs, are you?”

A surprised laugh echoed around the room and he almost felt his body melt at the sight of your curled up frame from how much you were laughing.

“It amazes me,” you said between chuckles. “that you'd think I'd pull that off.” Not without him knowing, at least. You and Harry are side by side for almost the entire day.

“I don't doubt you.”

“You're losing faith in me.”

“I never had it.” He huffs out a laugh when you throw a pillow at his face, hitting him right on his nose. He fell on his bed with a groan, you moved his homework out of the way before he could mess it up by laying on top of it.

“Just... tell me if it gets to that point again, okay?

You look at him, contemplating something that he can't figure out. With the way you avoid his eyes as you answer, he knows you decided to say something else instead of that first thought. “I will. But it won't.” He found the conviction in your voice strange. You can't know if it will ever get that bad again. Just as the migraines miraculously left, they might come back.

He didn’t question it further.

You went back to your homework, sharing some insights on his as he does with yours. It didn’t last long until your phone started blaring beneath the pillow you're perched on, the sound being slightly muffled by the fabric.

You feel Harry's teasing before he can sputter out a sentence.

“Shut up.” You hissed, picking up the call without looking at the caller ID.

“One Direction. Really?”

“Hello.” You pointedly turn away from his smirky face. You have to take the phone away from your ear due to some loud police sirens that come from the line.

“Hi, hello!” The distinctive voice of Peter Parker replies. Yelling. That was the only way you would be able to hear him anyway. “There's been a thing and I— Shit!”

You concluded the phone is thrown away because his voice suddenly sounds very far.

You offered Harry a lousy excuse to step out into the hallway, frowning at the other voices and the police sirens you could hear.

“Peter, you—”

“I'm back!” Again, you take the phone away from your ear with a sigh. “Sorry, I was— I was busy.” You gathered that fact by the way he sounded breathless.

“Are you running?”

“No!” The noise proceeded to quieten down and you raise an eyebrow at his blatant lie. “Sorry, was I loud? Feels like I was being loud. Sorry.” A door is closing and he's groaning at the end of the line. Instead of finding it funny, you start to get worried, picturing a dislocated shoulder or maybe a deep gash on his arm like last time.

You and Peter made an agreement. When you agreed to be friends again — part of that starting over bullshit that was your idea — you and him worked on filling each other out on both of your lives. Just catching up as good friends do. Less than a month later you were patching up his wounds as if you never had stopped doing that in the first place. Sometimes, you'd even think you were back where you started as if it was all back to the start of your story in Queens. Midtown. Making plans with Ned and Peter for the weekends. Sitting with MJ at lunch as much as she claimed she hated company. . .

There was a pull at your chest every time you remembered it wasn't like this. You weren't back at that time. You couldn't go back. You only had the now and it had to be enough. It was enough.

“Peter, are you hurt?” But you still felt the same agony whenever the idea of Peter being hurt came across your mind. An unsettling fear settling up in your core.

“No.” he shuffled around, clearing his throat. His voice was back for you to hear it clearly. “I'm fine. Just a bank robbery downtown and I—” he paused to let out a heavy sigh. “I'm sorry I'm late, I'll be there in a second, okay?”

You blink, confused. “What? Late for what, Peter?”

“Hanging out?” He said followed by a tinge of uncertainty. “Uh, you said that after class—”

Your brows shot up in recognition. “Oh! Yeah, that's—” Then you checked the time on your phone. You were supposed to meet after class to hang out around 5 p.m. It was still 3 in the afternoon. “Peter,” you held in a chuckle. “That's like, two hours away. You're not late.”

There's silence on his end and you start laughing.

“Oh,” he mumbled, letting out a breath of relief. “That's— That's good. I was thinking that I was like really really late and—”

“You're good, webs.” You softly reassured him. Peter has been working really hard to make sure he doesn't mess up with you again. That included arriving early at places. “Are you at home?”

“Yeah, I just got here.”

“Mhm. And you're not hurt at all?”

“Just a few scratches,” Peter answered with hesitancy. You smiled triumphantly. Not because you're happy he's hurt but because you knew you were right. “I'm fine, alright? You don't have to come.”

“Okay.” You said, stepping back into your dorm room, catching Harry eying your frame from your bed curiously. “No broken limbs though, right?”

Peter's scoff put a smile on your lips. “Have some faith in me. I can handle a robbery.”

The joke Spiderman can handle a robbery but Peter Parker is still clumsy almost slips out but, thankfully, you remember you're not alone.

“Sure. I'll see you later.”

“Hey,” he called your name before you could hang up so you waited for him to speak. “Do you— are you going— how are you— I mean...”

“Peter, breathe.”

You didn’t notice Harry's eye-roll, too busy cracking up at Peter's stuttering mess.

“Okay. Alright. Are you going by yourself? Cause I can pick you up and we can go, you know, so you don't have to go alone?” He clarified, a strain in his voice as if he's been choking up to say that.

“Oh. Harry and I are going to head out together, actually. He's here.”

You patiently waited for his response. “Of course. Yeah. Okay. I'll see you later then. You and— and Harry. And everyone else.”

“Yeah.” You sat down on the bed, biting the inside of your cheek. A weird feeling of guilt in in your chest. “See you later, then. Bye.”

You don't know why you feel guilty about turning him down. All of you would meet in the same place anyway so it's not like you weren't gonna see him, right? It's just a matter of logistics.

“Was that your boyfriend?”

You gave Harry a blank stare as you threw your phone to the side to go back to your assignment. One of his eyebrows arched up in defiance, he played your game of not looking away for a few minutes before you got sick of it.

“I wonder if the reason you're bothered by Peter is because you secretly have a crush on him.”

He looks away first and your lips spread into a satisfied smirk.

“Parker's not my type.” Harry uttered, leaning over your lap to mark a question that you had gotten wrong. His curls tickling your chin. “And this is wrong. It's not fifteen, it's fifty.” He decided to add for good measure, stepping out of your personal space. “I'm not bothered by him.”

You hummed quietly, erasing the previous calculation to redo the math.

“Who is your type anyway?” You asked, trying to cut through the tension. Every time you mention Peter, Harry's mood shifted. He got too quiet. He just didn’t like him for some reason you couldn't yet figure out. Peter and he haven't met before, that much you know. You claim you'll be out of this, because it's none of your business, some people just don't like each other, it happens. But you're curious and if the opportunity to find out the X of the equation comes, you won't run from it.

“You'll never know.” His mumble is so low that you wouldn't have heard it if you weren't sitting so close to each other. He steals the pen you were using, earning a frown from you. “I like this one better.”

“Buy one for you then,” you complained, not moving to get the pen back from him. You take the one he was using instead, eager to finish the assignment so you can have the rest of the afternoon free with your friends.

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[Pete]: (Picture attached)

[Pete]: Do you want this back?

When you opened the text message, your breath hitched. The image Peter had sent you showed the red scarf, the one you never let go of. You hadn't seen it in a while, ever since... Ever since you paid him a visit that night. The night you were set on burning the scarf along with that collection of pictures you found in your room.

You've been to Peter's place countless times after that, though. You wondered why he never mentioned anything.

[You]: Keep it.

You sighed, conflicted with that short answer. You weren't being rude, you didn't meant to be. But you didn't need the scarf anymore. Not when you have him back in your life. You realized the scarf represented everything the two of you lived and everything you didn't.

You didn't want it back. You weren't ready.

Not now, at least. You hoped he wouldn't be hurt by it.

[You]: Maybe one day you can give it back to me.

Satisfied with your reply, you slipped your phone into your pocket, standing up to help Harry carry five smoothies toward your table. Ned and MJ were on their way, as for Peter, you figured it was the same. His apartment wasn't that far from where you were.

“I know a loser when I see one.”

“Hello, MJ.” You greeted after taking the first sip of your smoothie. You offer her hers and she bumps your hip, sitting beside you in the booth as a greeting. “Where's Ned?” You asked, frowning now that you didn't see the boy arriving along with her. They were always together.

She shrugged, leaning back. “He said he would be ten minutes late. He was gonna get Peter so they could go to this store nearby his place before coming here.”

You didn't take long to acknowledge which store she was talking about. An eye roll later, you crack out a smile in amusement.

“The Star Wars one?”

She nodded and the three of you quickly entered a conversation about a movie that was airing on the local theatre. Ned and Peter arrived in the middle of your discussion, a few bags in their hands that earned your curiosity.

“Did you buy the whole store?” You joked, the edge of your lips curling up as Peter sat down in front of you, placing two little bags on the corner of his seat.

Peter raised an eyebrow at you, amusement all over his features. “Did I?”

“Looks like it.”

“Oh, this is—!” Ned exclaimed, taking a sip of his smoothie. Harry held back a laugh at the boy's blissed-out state. “You got it right.” He then pointed at Harry accusingly. “I love you.”

Harry shrugged, “I know.”

“The one time I got your order wrong—” MJ begins.

“You never get the right one.” Ned deadpanned, interrupting MJ's speech. The girl kicked his chin under the table and Ned proceeded to kick hers back. Just before the childish fight could escalate, you pull both of their ears and hear whining asking you to stop.

Peter and Harry were chucking and you have to backtrack because Harry wasn't glaring at Peter for the first time. Is this progress?

After a mindless walk to the nearest park, all of you silently decided to stick around for a while longer, basking in what was left of the sunset and the hues of orange, pink and blue that mixed together to form the purple sky of the evening.

You teased MJ at her inability to stop texting her girlfriend while in an evening among friends and she flipped you off immediately, blushing. She's been seeing Felicia Hardy for two months and from what you could see, it was becoming rather serious, even though MJ still cannot admit it. You know your best friend and her hidden smiles and secret joy because of a new person she's interested in.

“No, no, no. You don't get it. It's like different universes in one— Actually, no. Multiple universes that are currently happening right now. You could be you, but you're, I don't know, a villain in this other universe, while here, you're just Harry.”

Both of your and Peter's neck snapped as you turned towards the conversation between Harry and Ned.

Harry carried a crease between his brows, confusion twisting the corner of his lips.

“So I'm me... but different?”

Ned nodded vehemently. He'd always get excited whenever the topic of multiverse was brought up.

You, on the other hand, were tense and you did not have to look at Peter to know his reaction as well.

“I'm sure in every reality you're an entitled filthy rich bastard the same way. Don't worry.” MJ’s comment was enough you breathe again. Peter’s awkward laugh at your side.

Harry rolls his eyes, “and I'm sure you're sarcastic and bitchy about anything and anyone, Jones.”

You throw your head back to stare up at the sky.

“Children.” You mocked. Peter attempted to hide his laugh but he was not successful. You found it endearing how his cheeks slowly turned pink. It reminded you of when you were kids, he'd turn into a tomato every time he tried to hold in his laugh. “Behave.”

They initiated a bickering about she started it and he started it and Ned made a comment to side with Harry to add fire to the flames.

Sometimes you thought they could remember and then reality crashed down the moment for what it truly was. It could be good and bad at the same time. Bittersweet might be the right term to name the feeling. Of course you miss everything that was, but what currently is is also good, in a way. You have your people, despite the losses, you have him back and it's all that you could ask for.

“Peter.”

He gives you a sheepish smile, looking down at his shoes as he buried his hand in his jacket.

“Did you like it?”

You close the small box carefully. “How could I not? It's beautiful. I loved it.” You said, then punched his shoulder playfully. He pretends it hurts, but you know it doesn't. “Don't spend that much money on me, Parker.”

Peter shrugged, playing the nonchalant part. “I'll do what I want, actually.”

“You're such an annoying little shit, aren't you?”

He shrugged again, this time he's got a cocky grin and a little smug attitude you recognized from when he got an answer right and you got one wrong in an assignment. It's a glimpse of the carefree nature of Peter Parker. He's a little bit proud at times, but still clumsy around people, shy between strangers, and wears his heart on his sleeve for the people he truly cares about.

“You love it.”

“Help me,” you asked him when everyone stopped by the fountain on your way back to university. You had your back to him and he finally understood what he was supposed to do when he saw your fingers holding the two parts of the necklace behind your neck. He stepped forward, taking both parts from your hands and freezing once your fingers met. Your skin was cold. You shivered as he clasped the necklace, adjusting with a shaky sigh. His throat moved under his hard gulp. “Thank you.” You turned around with the little rose gold maple leaf pendant around your neck.

Peter blinked at you in a daze. The streetlight illuminated your figure as you moved your hair away from your shoulders so it wasn't curling around the necklace anymore.

You're beautiful. So beautiful.

As soon as he saw the maple leaf pendant, you came into his mind. It reminded him of the Fall, your favorite season, which, of course, led him to you. Funny that everything, somehow, lead him to you. He doesn't know what his life would be if it didn't. Nothing would make much sense, honestly. Peter didn't know how the other Peter Parkers handled losing you in their universe. It was such a difficult thought for him to even consider. His initial goal was to protect you and if that meant he had to let you go, then so be it. He would do it. Because you deserved a life without the mess that was his life. You deserved peace and happiness. But that plan backfired when he saw you crossing the street to reach a coffee shop. It was 8pm in the evening and he was on patrol. He had stopped two robberies an hour before so he was getting ready to go home and throw himself into bed, give a rest to his alter ego for the night. Until you showed up, crossing the street so distracted that a car almost hit you. Peter pulled you back in time, a hand on your shoulder to steady you from the scare of the car horn. You had been crying and at the moment Peter's only thought was to comfort you and figure out who had made you feel that way.

“Myself.” You laughed, tearfully. “Sorry. I wasn't paying attention.”

He convinced himself that from that point on he had to watch over you, to simply make sure you wouldn't cross the street without looking both ways again, or trip mad and get a severe head injury. He'd watch you from afar, it couldn't do any harm.

In reality, that was Peter's way of not letting you go and it had not been fair to either one of you. Especially you, who earned headaches and migraines and insomnia because of memories begging to come back, memories that shouldn't have been removed at all.

Peter disappointed you. He disappointed himself too — and probably Aunt May, who must be shaking her head in disapproval wherever she was watching over him from. He's slowly making peace with himself after everything. He's finally seen that having you close by was better than the heartache of letting you go and trying foolishly to move on. He didn't want to move on from you and if that was selfish. . . that was fine. Peter was never anything besides selfless his entire life. And if you wanted to be in his life, why couldn't he want to be in yours?

He would acknowledge the past and make the best out of the present. As for the future, well, he wasn't concerned, it would probably lead him to you. As always.

#peter parker x reader #peter parker imagine #peter parker fanfiction #peter parker fic #spiderman x reader #spiderman x you #reader insert

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