#and if she's telling the truth this isn't her fault and i admire her wanting to address it and recognizing that it matters

[lvrdrafts]

Unspoken Apologies

Summary: You are in the hospital and you confess to Bucky the pain you felt during the relationship, but Bucky doesn't deny his true feelings toward you

A/N: I GOT 100 FOLLOWERS OMG TY GUYS SO MUCH!!

Part 1 Part 2

Y/N lay in a sterile hospital room, her body weakened by the torture she had gone through. The doctors had delivered the devastating news that the torture you went through had caused severe damage internally. They had said she wouldn't make it. It was a bleak reality that Y/N was struggling to accept, but there was one person who refused to give up hope - Bucky Barnes.

Bucky paced back and forth outside the room, his heart heavy with worry. He had never seen Y/N so fragile, so vulnerable. The thought of losing her was unbearable. He blamed himself for not being there sooner, for not being there when she needed him the most.

A soft knock on the door interrupted Bucky's restless pacing. Y/N's weak voice called out, "Come in, Bucky."

He entered cautiously, his eyes brimming with concern. Seeing her lying in the hospital bed, her breathing slower and her body more pale, tore at his soul. Bucky had always admired Y/N's strength and resilience, and now it seemed to be slipping away.

Y/N managed a weak smile. "It's so funny, isn't it?" she said softly, her voice filled with a mix of sadness and amusement. "All of this started because I overheard you in the bar, calling me clingy. I tried avoiding you and I wanted you to say 'Hey I miss your clinginess' " you pause holding back tears "but you never did".

Bucky's heart sank as he remembered that conversation. It had been a misunderstanding. He was just stressed and found you as an excuse for his problems. He wanted to apologize, to tell Y/N how wrong he had been, but his words caught in his throat.

"Y/N," he began, his voice choked with emotion. But before he could say anything else, she continued.

"I've always felt like I burdened you, like I was too much for you to handle, and this situation proved my point" Y/N confessed, tears welling up in her eyes. "I guess I just wanted to hear it from you. Am I really a burden to you, Bucky?"

Bucky's silence spoke volumes, and Y/N's heart shattered into a million pieces. The truth was revealed without words, and it was more painful than she could have ever imagined.

Tears streamed down Y/N's face as she clutched her chest, struggling to breathe. Bucky rushed to her side, taking her hand in his, but it was too late. The doctors rushed in, their urgent voices fading into the background as Y/N slipped away.

Bucky knelt beside the lifeless body of the person he loved, overwhelmed with grief and regret. He had allowed his fear and pride to cloud his judgment, to push Y/N away when all she needed was his reassurance.

In that heartbreaking moment, Bucky made a promise to himself. He would carry the weight of his mistakes and regrets for the rest of his life. He would never forget the sound of Y/N's voice, filled with hurt and longing, nor the look of desperation in her eyes as she questioned her own worth.

As Bucky emerged from Y/N's hospital room, his face etched with anguish, he found himself face-to-face with Sam Wilson, who had been anxiously waiting outside.

Sam's eyes widened at the sight of Bucky's devastated expression. "Bucky, what happened?" he asked, his voice laced with concern.

Bucky's voice trembled as he tried to find the right words. "It's... it's my fault, Sam," he finally managed to say, his voice filled with regret. "Y/N... she overheard a conversation we had, and I never got the chance to make things right, to tell her how sorry I was. And now... now she's gone."

Sam's expression softened as he realized the weight of Bucky's remorse. "What did she hear, Bucky?" he pressed gently, knowing that the answer would reveal the depth of the pain caused.

Bucky's voice cracked as he spoke. "She heard me call her clingy, Sam," he admitted, his voice filled with self-condemnation. "I was stressed, and I took it out on her. I pushed her away when all she needed was my support. I didn't realize how much those words would haunt her, how they would make her doubt her worth. And now... she's paid the price."

Sam's gaze turned cold, his disappointment evident. "She died thinking I hated her," he said, his voice filled with frustration. "She was the only person with me after-"Bucky pauses realizing he's all alone again, as if fate wanted him to be alone. "after Steve left me. She was like an angel who was there and and now she is gone because I was a fucking idiot" Bucky says kicking a trash can to the other side of the hallway.

Bucky's shoulders slumped, his eyes welling up with tears. "I failed her, and now she's gone. I've lost her..."

@marygoddessofmischief @specialsnowflake-gabbi @openup-yourmind @madi-is-kinda-lame @maddieislost @666yourmomdotcom @kentokaze @floralwslokicjand10 @vicmc624 @theroyalmanatee @kandis-mom @elite4cekalyma @sargentbarxes @milanaasblog

#bucky x reader #bucky x reader angst #bucky barnes x reader angst #james barnes x reader #james barnes x reader angst

[deputyrook]

Impressions- 5/? Mark Hoffman x Psychic!Reader

PART 1. PART 2. PART 3. PART 4.

You're a psychic. He's a detective. And a serial killer.

(You're a team.)

Word count: 4050

WARNINGS: CORRUPTION, stockholm syndrome, abusive dynamics, general Saw-levels of horror & violence. Reader is drinking the Jigsaw Kool-Aid.

“God, you’re persistent,” you tell Kerry, laying back on your couch and rubbing your temple, “Fine. Yes, I’ll go to therapy and I'll check out the community resources for Jigsaw survivors. Are you happy?”

It's not exactly a lie. You might check out the resources. Kerry's voice crackles across the line in reply: “Good. And if you’re able to remember anything while you’re there-“

Of course. It’s not that she wants you to get help, but rather, she’s hoping that you’ll pick up on some kind of psychic lead from discussing your capture and trauma with a therapist.

A swell of bitterness fills your chest, though you wish it didn't. You’d asked her to come and help you with groceries and chores today, but she’d declined, saying that she was too busy working on the case. Somehow, Mark had been coming around to help more often than she was, and he was balancing his job with being a serial killer.

Kerry’s work has always come first, and her dedication is something you had often admired. The two of you had bonded in university over a shared discomfort at parties and social events. Neither of you had ever quite fit in with the crowd. But even knowing her for as long and as well as you did, it still hurt to know the obsession came before your friendship.

“When are you going to take a break?” You ask, instead of voicing your frustration.

“When I find Eric,” she replies, steadfast. You must make some kind of a critical noise in response, because Kerry adds, “What? Do you believe it’s hopeless? That I should just give up?”

“It’s not that,” you mutter with a sigh, already regretting this line of conversation, but knowing that Kerry won’t give it up until she pulls the truth from you.

“Then what?”

“Just that maybe Matthews shouldn’t have gone and played Cowboy Cop, shooting from the hip.” You finally snap, to Kerry’s stunned silence. “You play stupid games and you win stupid prizes, Ally. If he had just listened to the rules he’d been given-"

“I can’t believe I’m hearing this from you right now," She says, voice sounding more shocked than angry, "Jigsaw took your eyes, put you through hell, and you’re defending him?” 

“I’m not defending him,” you bite back, wondering if you are, “But Matthews was corrupt. You know that, even I know that. Sometimes, you get what you deserve."

There's a beat of silence over the phone line, and you wonder if you've taken it a step far. It almost surprises you, to hear the words coming from your mouth. A month ago, you wouldn't have believed you would feel this way, but it's true, isn't it?

Matthews had a way out, just like everyone else did. Just like you did. If he hadn't fucked around and found out, he would have been fine.

Your sympathy for the other Jigsaw victims- the other subjects- has become somewhat muted since you became one yourself. Being able to intuit all of their faults in high definition had only dulled it further.

“You think he deserved to be murdered, is that it?" Kerry asks, and if she wasn't angry before, she definitely is now. Thankfully, you know from experience that she tends to anger quickly, and cool off just as fast. "What about you, then? You got tested, too. How the hell can you say it's deserved?”

Because I deserved to be tested, too.

Something about the topic of conversation turning to you causes a vision to spring forward from the recesses of your mind, like it had simply been waiting for the most opportune moment to reveal itself.

You see yourself, standing in what appears to be a shallow pool of water in the middle of a dense forest. It is quiet and still, save for the ripples in the water caused by your movement. You can't hear any animals- the forest is silent.

You look exactly as you remember, save for a few key details- wide, white globes for eyes stare wildly back at you, and you are drenched in the water. You are soaked through and dripping, the water running down your forehead in rivets. On your head, twisted and gnarled, is a crown of some sort. At first, you think it's a crown of branches- fitting for the forest that you've found yourself in- but once you approach and look closer, you realize it's a crown of rusted, jutting metal pieces.

In your hands, you hold out a crumpled piece of paper, one you’ve somehow kept from dissolving in the water. Carefully, you take it from yourself and unfurl it, to see a wrinkled advertisement for a Jigsaw survivor support group.

Interesting. You file that piece of information away for later. Your lips are moving, but you can't hear the words. You lean in, trying to listen. It seems you're repeating something, over and over, mouthing along to an inaudible refrain.

“Hello?” Kerry's voice pulls you out of it.

“I'm sorry,” you reply. Any anger you'd been feeling is gone, shaken out of you, “My head's been all over the place."

"I know," She sighs as well, and you can feel her unspoken apology in return as she continues, "The FBI's getting involved. I've been in contact with one of their agents."

Immediately, you think back to your vision of the two dangerous people- the man and the woman.

"Damn," you remark, before you note, "He's a lot to deal with, isn't he?"

"That's putting it lightly," Kerry huffs, and you can feel her frustration not only at you, but at the FBI agents getting involved before she's been able to find Matthews herself. She feels embarrassed by it, the scrutiny and criticism only mounting the pressure she feels to find an answer, quickly.

"Tell me this," She asks then, weary, "Is everything going to be okay?"

There's a sinking in your stomach, but you lie to her, and say, "I think so."

Your words hand in the air, as if from a hangman's noose.

"Thanks," Kerry replies, and you're not sure if she believes you.

"Hey, Ally?"

"Yeah?"

"Be careful out there. Keep your head on a swivel." You feel like you can hear the smile in her voice when she responds to you, though her tone remains grave.

"Always. You too."

---

[11:47AM - Outgoing] Did you know about the FBI getting involved in the Jigsaw case?

[11:48AM - Incoming] no.

[11:48AM - Incoming] fuck.

[11:50AM - Outgoing] That one isn't a vision either, straight from Allison

[11:51AM - Outgoing] But I've seen them, too.

[11:51AM - Outgoing] Two agents I think. They look like trouble.

[11:53AM - Incoming] thanks for the heads up

[11:54AM - Incoming] fbi... what a pain in the ass

[11:55AM - Outgoing] If they start poking around, it could be a lot worse than that

[11:55AM - Outgoing] Be careful

[11:59AM - Incoming] well how about that. you do care.

[11:59AM - Outgoing] Don't let it get to your head

---

The Jigsaw Survivor Support group meeting is held in a church basement. It's the first time you've been in a church for a long time, and the atmosphere feels weighty with the desperate prayers of its inhabitants.

Of course, there isn't an elevator. Down in the cool of the basement, a circle of chairs waits for you, and you get the sense that several men and women already seated when you arrive. Hushed voices quiet to silence as you approach, tapping your cane ahead of you.

"Oh! Hello!" A woman's voice calls out as you approach, nervous but excited. From her tone, you guess that she's an older woman. "You're new! Normally, Dr. Gordon would greet you, but he's actually away this week. He's the one who organized this group."

Doctor Gordon. Why did that name seem to strike a chord of familiarity with you?

You wince as someone takes your arm. You've learned that one major difference about being blind is that strangers are all too willing to touch you, now that they think they're being helpful.

You sure wish that they wouldn't.

The person who grabbed you by the arm leads you further into the room to a chair, "helping" you sit down. They seem a bit offended when you don't thank them, instead setting your cane beside the chair and folding your hands in your lap.

"So? What'd he take from you?" A male voice asks from across the circle, after you've settled into your seat.

"Take a guess," you reply dryly. No one in the room laughs, and you're not sure if it's better or worse that you can't actually see them all, staring and judging you. You clear your throat, and try again. "My ability to see."

"You don't need to talk about it, if you don't want to," the woman placates quickly, a note of admonishment in her tone. "Ned, you can't just ask the new people what was taken them-"

"It's okay," You interrupt, feeling surprisingly calm. Between the woman who had grabbed you, and the man who interrogated you, she had bothered you more than he had, "Not much throws me off, these days."

Reaching out with your senses, you survey the circle. A tangled mess of self-pity and loathing hits you, and you have to keep your lip from curling in a sneer of distaste. These are the survivors? You only get a hit off of one of them that doesn't repulse you- a reluctant, begrudging respect, an acknowledgement that he's made changes in his life that have improved things, since the game that he was in.

Feelings of ownership, control, responsibility- could the Jigsaw games really inspire them? Mostly, it just seemed to have traumatized these people-

These people, who were so miserable and desperate to begin with, their sins writhing inside the marrow of their bones. You have to free the sins, get the them out of the marrow to save them-

Your head throbs. The headaches have lessened considerably since you... refocused your senses, but they hadn't completely disappeared.

Briefly, you itch for a painkiller, but you ignore the craving as best as you can as you listen to each subject in the group introduce themselves.

The only name you fully register is that of the young man who you'd felt the sense of kinship with- Daniel Matthews. Hm. Isn't that ironic?

"I'm still processing everything," you say, after you introduce yourself. "But to be honest... I guess I have been seeing things in a different way."

"I'm sure you've learned to appreciate your life, and be grateful," you can hear the scowl in the man called Ned's voice. You have no idea what his test was, or how he survived, but you can hear the sarcasm in his tone- if someone here is grateful, it isn't him.

You consider the words seriously instead of taking the bait.

Had you?

"I've learned to appreciate the life that I have, rather than the one I used to wish I had," You say. You can feel the attention of the others burning on you, and it makes your skin crawl. Their judgment is like a heavy blanket over the room, and its almost suffocating. But still, the words pour out of you, too honest, too raw.

"I'm the only person who can do what I do, and the only person who can see the world from my perspective. Wishing and hoping for things to be different is pointless- it's pathetic."

No one says anything, so you continue, trying to explain further how you feel. Maybe you hope that you can convince someone here to see their game in a new light. Maybe you just need to say the words have have been stuck in your throat for so long.

"I am who I am. I'm the person I love and the person I hate. Good, bad. It doesn't really matter. I don't care anymore, and I'm so tired of making excuses for being myself."

The room sits in quiet silence, until finally, Daniel Matthews speaks up for the first time in the session.

"But do you know... who that is? Yourself?"

The version of you in your mind's eye- the version from the forest lake with the jagged metal crown- looks at you and grins with teeth.

Your words in response seem to be carried by an incoming chill.

"I think I'm figuring it out."

---

You're not sure what you expected, but a house in the suburbs is not it.

"I'm renovating it, so careful where you step," Mark says, leading you through the front door with a hand on your waist. "Would be a hell of a waste if you died tripping over a brick."

"Hey, you're not allowed to make fun of me for being blind," You reply back, without any real venom. His hand squeezes your waist, playful but dominant.

"Who said anything about you being blind? I was talking about your two left feet." You jab him in the side with your elbow, and he chuckles to himself, pulling you along with him.

It feels altogether domestic- far easier than it has any right to feel. You can imagine a life together, in this home. Taxes and fighting over chores and going on trips. Putting on music as the sun goes down, brewing coffee in the mornings as it rises. You allow yourself the indulgence of it, for just a moment.

The house smells like sawdust and paint, but there's a metallic undercurrent of blood. It's hard to tell if that scent is really there, or if it's just something your mind has picked up on, independent of your objective reality. Mark seems to lead you on forever, around too many corners to count.

There it is again, that sixth sense nagging at you. Something bad happened here. Something bad will happen here. Layers of pain, like the rings in the centre of a tree. You think back to Daniel Matthews, and his nervous, angry energy. So much like his father's, but still so different.

The coffin of glass swallows the target, but he doesn't know what it means. He thinks he is safe inside, but he is wrong. The walls are closing in on him, not his opponent, who is pulled through to the heavens. This isn't how its supposed to happen.

"Is this place a maze? What kind of architect designed this?" You mutter, as Mark stops walking and crouches down beside you. You tap your cane around, noticing a hollow sound ringing from part of the floor.

"Probably John. The layout's a nightmare. But the place is huge. It'll be nice, once its fixed up." Mark responds, and you hear a loud thud. "It's a trap door," he explains.

"Great," You reply, "Always a good sign."

Mark helps you through the trapdoor and down a ladder. Your tentative movements take time, but if he's annoyed by your slow pace, he doesn't complain. Once you're down the ladder, you reach out with your mind's eye, and survey your surroundings.

It is much colder, down here, somehow. Something bothers you about it, like an open sore in the back of the mouth.

"Hey, where are you going?"

You don't realize you're walking away until you hear Mark's voice, calling after you. Something is drawing you in like a beacon. It feels, suddenly, like you're on the cusp of completing something important, something you'd nearly forgotten about.

Drawn through the cold, damp, narrow tunnels, you somehow know instinctively which ways to turn. You don't trip, or run into walls, but keep moving, deeper into the dark. Until finally, you feel yourself stop in front of... something.

Reaching forward, you grasp the bars of a cell.

"Somewhere deep and dark. Low, inside the earth," you echo your words from weeks ago now, and hear a low, guttural groan in response.

Poor Eric Matthews, more animal than man by now.

"Yeah, he's not doing so great," Mark whispers in your ear, having followed after you. You get a brief flash of vision- Mark grabbing Eric by the hair, grown matted and shaggy, and dragging him back as he sobs and claws at the ground. Mark, punching him heavy in the stomach, throwing slop at his feet.

He hated it, at first. Then he grew to relish it.

Pure horror settles in you, uneasy in your stomach.

"Why... keep him?" You ask hollowly, feeling Mark's arm around your waist again, territorial.

"Kramer wants him for the next game," He replies, too quiet for Matthews to hear, "Needs him as an incentive. You know how bad the precinct wants to save him. Hell, it's why you're here in the first place."

"Is someone out there? Help me-" Matthews pleads, his voice broken, "P-please-" Your mouth is dry. You'd been brought in to save this man, and now here he was, begging for help in front of you.

"Huh. So he does remember how to speak," Mark mutters. Part of you wants to reach out, to comfort Matthews, to lie badly to him and tell him it will be alright.

But this is what it is. Open wounds, dirty basements, and pain like the refrain of a prayer. The maw of Hell itself. This is what it means, to be a part of this.

To be partners with Detective Mark Hoffman.

You jump in surprise at a sudden, loud clang- Mark has grabbed your cane, and slammed it against the rusted bars of the cell. You hear whimpering, as Eric Matthews seems to retreat. You take a few steps back, away from the cell, closing your eyes as if it will help.

"It gets easier," Mark tells you, "I know, I know. It's alright to be uncertain. Too feel sick about it. I was at first, too."

You swallow, and nod. He presses his lips to your temple, in a gentle gesture, and continues to soothe you with honeyed words.

"Don't worry. No one's going to find out. You and me, we do this together. We help each other. Right?"

You nod again, and he kisses you, on the lips this time. It's almost forceful, as though by the action alone, he can make you forget your conscience.

"Come on," He says, "Lemme show you the bathroom."

---

Although you've never set foot in this room before in your life, you feel as though you're returning back to a place you grew up in. It has an air of nostalgia about it that's almost uncanny, like a place you've dreamt about a million times, but can't quite map the layout of.

Frankly, it's kind of fucking creepy in here.

The smells of decaying bodies doesn't help. It's unmistakable, almost sweet in its rot, and you clasp a hand over your mouth as you grimace.

"You're renovating, but you couldn't take out the bodies?" You ask, fighting the urge to gag.

"Yeah, let me just carry them to my car," Mark snipes back, and you suppose he has a point. "I don't really come down here. But hey, do your thing." You hear the scrape of a chair, and wonder- is he pulling up a seat?

With a deep breath, you calm your nerves, and try to dial in to your extrasensory perception. The first task you'd been given- find Eric Matthews- has been completed. The second- find the secret apprentice- has not. That's your goal, and the reason you came here. You know that this place has the answers you seek. The walls bleed with them.

You sense Mark, somewhere behind you, curious and sharp. But you need to reach something older. Glass crunches under your boots, and you slowly pace the room, stepping carefully as not to trip over anything.

Then, you catch hold of something. Before you can understand what you're doing, you're crouching in front of one of the bodies, taking his bony, brittle face into your hands. The skin is like tissue paper under your touch.

"Oh, Adam," You murmur to him softly, "How unfair. He didn't follow his own rules for you, did he?"

"Are you... talking to the corpse?" Mark asks, an edge of disgust in his voice.

You ignore him. The corpse doesn't speak, of course, but he answers you in his own way.

"He promised," you hear your voice saying, an echo from a thousand miles away, "He promised he'd come back to save him. A Knight in shining armour. But he never did. He dies down here, missing his mother and wondering if he'll ever see her again. He dies over and over again. He exists as a ghost, haunting the third. The fourth? The secret one, the guilty one, the one who got away."

You hold the skull delicately, with a care not to disturb him. Of course, he's just a body. Just a shell. But before that-

You smell cigarette smoke, hear the click of a camera snapping a shot. Despair, fear, loneliness. Despondency, hope. Bitterness, so much resentment. A cell phone ringing, a hacksaw, tearing into flesh, pain, pain-

"Who was tested in here?" You ask Mark, letting go of the body and standing. The room spins around you, seems to pulse in the darkness. You get the impression of patterns, swirling about- the kind you can read and understand, that you can use to tell the future, if you just focus. You wipe your hands on your pants.

"That guy," Mark replies, presumably pointing to Adam, "We strung up another guy in here at one point. And Matthew's game ended up in here, with the kid and Amanda."

"Who was with Adam?" The answer is so close to you. For some reason, you think of the Jigsaw survivor group, and briefly wonder if the secret apprentice is Daniel Matthews. It partially seems to fit, but your intuition suggests that guess is off base.

"A doctor, I think. We planted his pen light. I think he ended up surviving. What the hell was his name...?" As Mark thinks, the answer comes to you, bold, in flashing neon lights.

"Doctor Gordon," you whisper. You ankle aches in confirmation.

"That was it," Mark replies, and then he pauses. "Him?"

"Him."

"You're sure?"

You see a blonde man, pale and sickly looking, crawling away as blood pours from the stump of his leg. It flows like paint spilling from an overturned tub, until the man presses it to a boiling pipe. Flesh melts and blood coagulates. He survives.

He survives. But he is alone. He has no one else but the ghosts, and the King, omnipotent in his wisdom, sees a subject in the making. A knight to stand guard, to protect the most valuable pieces. To save, when he could not save before.

"I'm sure," You reply, and you are. You hear Mark stand up from his seat.

"What now?" He asks, walking back over to you, "Do we...confront him? Ask Kramer about him?"

It's curious, you think, that he's asking for your opinion now. But you shake your head.

"No," You answer. You've never felt so sure of something in your life. The impressions of the patterns spell out hints to you, show a chessboard with its pieces, ready for play.

"No, we sit on this. We'll need him, later. We don't let anyone else know that we know," You say and you hear Mark make a small hum of contemplation.

"We'll need him?" He asks, a note of skepticism in his voice, and you nod.

"I don't know how yet. But I can feel it. Trust me on this?" You ask. He sighs.

"You haven't been wrong yet," He replies, and you smile at him in thanks. The pieces are coming into focus now, starting to settle into place. John Kramer has been lining up these dominoes for half a decade.

And you can sense what's coming. Your sight will be your survival. You catch the sound of a buzz, coming from where Mark stands.

"It's John. He wants to meet with you again, one-on-one," Mark says then, and you hazard a guess that he's looking at his phone. Does John Kramer know how to text?

"When?" You ask back. Your intuition tells you this will be important- that it might be the last time you see Kramer, face to face. He's a tyrant, his dark shadow looming over you and Mark, and you know in your soul that even when he's dead, that isn't going to change.

"Now. You ready?"

You hope that you are. You think of Eric Matthews, rotting in the dark; and Daniel Matthews, living in the day. You think of Adam, resigned to the depths to die alone, and Ned, who survived to scoff at the notion of gratitude.

It makes you sick, and not out of guilt.

--

A/N- A bit plot heavy, but since I actually know where this is going now, I'm actually laying down the building blocks for the end! Thank you for waiting, I'm a bit nervous about this chapter so if you liked it, please leave a review <3

TAG LIST: @icarusinstatic @honimello @haven-is-happy @karmaswitch @the-jester-calamity @teamhawkeye @thebrideofcaliban @mjrkime @kaelyn-lobrutto24 @mrs-hotforhoffman @aliengutzstuff

#mark hoffman #sawposting #slasher fic #costas mandylor #my writing #slasher x reader #detective hoffman #mark hoffman x oc #mark hoffman x reader #smut #psychicverse #saw franchise #saw movies #horror #reader insert #x reader #gn reader

[hamartia-grander]

Tell me everything you hate about Leon Kennedy so I can agree

Careful, anon, or you'll make me fall in love with you

The things I don't hate about Leon would make a shorter list and my instinct is to give you a jokey answer, but you seem genuinely curious of Leon's faults as a character so I'll do my best to explain it:

Obligatory "just because a character sucks doesn't mean you have to hate them, and I'm not saying people can't like Leon, I'm simply expressing why I personally don't" statement for those with no reading comprehension <3

My biggest reason for hating him is the misogyny. Leon's most prominent trait is his continued misogyny. And while this previously was brushed off as "the writing of the time" in which the games/CG movies were released, that is no longer an excuse, because 1. Leon is still being written as a misogynist, just in a different context, and 2. There are other RE male characters who were never written to be misogynistic, such as Chris Redfield, and there are RE male characters who were originally misogynistic but have been rewritten to no longer be, such as Luis Serra. And of all of the RE male characters who were originally written to be misogynistic, the only character who has maintained that misogyny despite remakes is Leon. This makes it no longer just a reflection of the early 2000's writing, it now becomes a facet of his actual character. And while Leon's misogyny is no longer as blatant and bold as "following a lady's lead just isn't my style", or making demeaning comments on a woman's butt, or scoffing and spitting "women", it is still a part of his character.

Especially in relation to Ada Wong. The way he treats Ada is like a stereotypical reddit incel who experienced one breakup and now hates/disregards all women in his perceived dating pool. Ada never fully revealed who she was to Leon, she never promised him the truth, and she never expressed a want to allow him to see the real her - in fact, she did quite the opposite, constantly trying to push him away. But Leon - being a man who sees a woman in a dangerous situation as someone who needs his help, despite Ada saving his ass multiple times - sticks around. And because he knows nothing about her, he starts to create a projection of who he thinks Ada is, based entirely on the very minimal and evasive information she has given him. And yes, being lied to by anyone is not fun, especially in the middle of an apocalypse. But Ada made many attempts to get Leon to back off, to leave her be, and yet he in all his macho-heroism insisted on "helping" her, thus forcing himself into her line of work despite her warnings against it. And then, when her lie is revealed, he completely disregards his respect for her, and begins to view her as nothing but an emotionless manipulator. She refuses to shoot him, even though it meant forfeiting her entire mission, and he still actually believes she never cared about him. And when they meet again, his attitude towards her is utterly abrasive, inconsiderate, and cold. What makes this misogyny however, rather than just Leon being an asshole, is that we have another character in the same game who Leon used to admire and whose identity is revealed to be something Leon is morally against: Major Krauser. And yet, Leon entirely maintains his respect for, and his consideration for the feelings of, Krauser. Ada Wong was a mercenary who lied to Leon to keep her cover. Krauser was a war criminal who kidnapped the president's daughter, which brought Leon into this mess, and then murdered Luis right in front of Leon. And Leon has a very no-nuance, naïve, black and white view of morals prior to and throughout re4r, so if his vitriol for Ada was truly about conflicting morals, that would be reflected in how he treats Krauser, too. However, Leon maintains his respect for Krauser. Leon appeals to Krauser's honour, to Krauser's emotions. Leon actively tries to sympathise with Krauser in an effort to rationalise Krauser's actions in Leon's mind. And yet it is Ada Wong, who has saved his life countless times, who has shown him she cares, and who has helped him at no cost, who receives his ire; rather than Krauser, who couldn't care less about Leon and his predicament. This kind of misogyny is especially infuriating to me because Leon's actions are portrayed as Just™, he is still portrayed as the Correct Hero™, and the fans ignore his misogyny just as easily as the narrative itself does.

I don't hate Leon just because he's a misogynist; there's too many of those in media to hate them all for that. I hate him because his misogyny is made to be a quality of his character, and is never punished by the narrative nor is he ever forced to reconcile with it. And what's worse, the way he treats Ada is in turn perpetrated by fans who refuse to acknowledge his misogyny, and thus become little misogynists themselves, tearing into Ada with utter vitriol and no consideration for her as a character.

And obviously, not just Ada. Another modern example is how he treats Claire Redfield in re2r and Infinite Darkness. He sees her as a kid in need of protecting, despite her only being 2 years younger than him, and proving repeatedly that she's more than capable of handling herself. And when she asks when he'll stop treating her like a kid, he says "probably never". (I am strangling him I'm exploding him with my mind). But his misogyny towards Ada is the most significant and reoccurring. She has long been written to serve as the object of Leon's desires, and now that she's been given significant substance, fans hate her for no longer fitting into their own misogynistic ideal of who she should be. But that's another discussion.

There's other things I hate about him, such as his part in modern copoganda, or his arrogance, but the misogyny is the most prominent thing. And I truly admire fans who love Leon while actively acknowledging his misogyny. But to me, he has no other redeeming qualities significant enough to help me get over it.

Sorry that was a lot but if you read this far, I hope I did okay explaining my feelings on this. Thank you for asking <3

#Is this trin this feels like something trin would say #If it's not trin just ignore me #resident evil #Asks #Resident evil 4 remake #Resident evil 2 #Resident evil 4

[burgundybmw]

Munson's Mixtape

Masterlist

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Cunningham!Reader

Word Count: 2,842

Warnings: Mentions of sex (no smut), Drug use (weed).

Summary: Chrissy has been acting weird, and like a good big sister Y/N drives to Hawkins from Notre Dame to check in on her. Only to find out she has plans to meet up with Eddie Munson. Things take a turn for the worse and now Y/N gets wrapped in to the horrors of Hawkins. Hey, at least she has the company of the guitarist she was sweet on back in high school for comfort.

Author’s Note: I spent way too much time looking at the Eddie hands picture... y'all know the one. Got a bit carried away.

Also this is super fluffy, wanted to give y'all a break from the angst train. Enjoy!

Track Eight

Y/N woke up bright and early the next day, the morning sun blazing through the boathouse lake entrance. Eddie was still sound asleep laying on the floor next to the hammock. They managed to throw some cushions from old outdoor furniture on the ground so Eddie would be more comfortable. He said he didn't mind the floor as it was, but Y/N didn't want to make this whole experience worse for him because he couldn't sleep at night. Her hard work paid off though, he was out like a light.

She turned over from her spot on the hammock so she could get a better look at him. He looked serene in his sleep, not a trace of fear or anxiety on his face. His long brown hair surrounded his head like a halo, full pouty lips open slightly as he slept. One arm was underneath his head over the pillow, the other on top of his chest. Y/N took a moment to look at the rings on his fingers. They were big and heavy, felt cool to the touch when he held her hand. Eddie had nice hands. His nails were clean and filed, with a few calluses on the tips of each finger, probably from years of playing guitar. His fingers were long too, she never noticed that before. He could reach so many places with hands like his...

"Take a picture, it'll last longer."

Y/N looked up to see Eddie's smug face staring back at her. She'd been caught.

"I was looking at your rings." She admitted. It was the easier truth to tell. A girl admiring someone's jewelry isn't suspicious, nearly salivating over a man's fingers on the other hand...

"Oh these babies? I've had them for ages. Want a better look?" She swore he was teasing her now, but she wasn't one to back down from a challenge.

"Sure." She reached down and grabbed his hand, pulling him closer to her. Eddie grunted at the sudden force of movement, Y/N was much stronger than she looked. She laid down on her back in the hammock, gently swinging back and forth, Eddie's hand close to her face for inspection.

She took her time looking at all of the little details on Eddie's hand. How the pig ring on his middle finger had some tarnish on the snout, that the faded blue ink from a quick note he wrote down rose and fell on top of his veins, how thick his fingers were. She gently traced the length of each digit between two of her fingers, memorizing the feel of them. When Y/N was done she flipped his hand to look at his palm, how each line overlapped. She took her own hand and gently spread each of her fingers to follow the shape of his hand, barely touching it, only her very tips brushed his skin. She could see the small hairs at the edge of his wrist rise with her touch.

Eddie thought his heart was going to stop beating at any moment. No one had ever touched him so gently before, like he was something precious. He used his hands for many things. Playing guitar, shaking dice, writing in his notebook, giving pleasure and pain when asked. Not this tender intimacy he was experiencing now. When he had random hookups he always did his job of caring for them after, cleaning up any mess or giving them a glass of water, whatever they needed in the moment. They never stayed with him passed that though, once the deed was done. No one wanted to spend the night.

It was always casual, and he didn't fault them for it, most of the time. He understood that he was their secret, whether it was for the sake of their reputation or safety. It was a bitter pill to swallow. Eddie craved the intimacy, he wished someone would stay with him throughout the night. Wake up the next morning in each others arms, touching each other in ways that didn't have to give way to carnal desires. The first time he experienced that was when he woke up next to the girl who was currently cradling his hand. He never wanted her to stop touching him.

"Gonna give me a palm reading or something lil witch?" Y/N giggled but didn't let go of his hand, content with tracing all of the fine lines and calluses.

"Lil witch? Where'd you come up with that one Eds?" Eds. Christ all mighty.

"Well, Lady Carnelian is a sorcerer, and a witch isn't a far cry from that. Plus you're feeling up my hand like you're about to tell me my future. Now tell me oh wise one, is there a vast fortune beyond the horizon? A lover waiting for me? Danger in the midst of our adventure?" Y/N felt the heat rush to her face. Lover, oh god. A shiver ran down her spine, but it wasn't from the cool spring air. Was that what this feeling was? Was she falling in love with Eddie? No, it was too soon for that. Not love, but something close to it.

That spark from before was ignited, smoldering into a steady flame. For years she tried to snuff it out, remove the oxygen and let it suffocate. It was always there though, would never fully die out. There was always something about Eddie that wouldn't leave her head, hibernating in the back of her mind. The past two years felt like a never ending winter, but it was springtime now. She focused on school and cheer, made friends, dated a bit. But with all of the men she dated she was always looking for something. There was always something wrong about them. Not the right personality, sense of humor, wrong hair, wrong eyes, wrong lips, wrong hands. Always something wrong. She realized now that she was looking for Eddie in those men. Probably had been since high school, Christ, maybe since junior high. He was always there, but she would never allow herself to look. Now she was looking, and she couldn't stop looking.

"Oh yes Eddie, I can see your future indeed." One of Maya's DnD friends was into divination. She talked about palmistry, astrology, and tarot cards a lot. Y/N thought it was interesting and talked about it with her before campaigns. She didn't know how accurate her reading was going to be, but she'd give it a shot. She began by tracing the deepest line in at the top of his palm.

"This is your heart line, see how it starts at the index finger? It means you have been in love for a long time, or will love someone for a long time. There are little lines surrounding it, meaning you've had other lovers before, but they don't hold a candle to this person." She then traced the curved line by his thumb, this one wasn't as clear.

"This is your life line, see the little circle in the middle there? That means at some point you have gotten hurt, or will be hurt in the future, so beware. Like you said at the campaign, there's no shame in running." Eddie snorted, but couldn't help but feel a bit worried. With everything going on, that little circle felt more like an omen than just a shape in his skin.

"See this line here? That's the head line. It has a big arc, which means you're a creative person, but this wave towards the beginning means you get distracted easily."

"You didn't need to read my palm for that one Y/N, you did tutor me for half a year." Y/N shushed him, she wasn't done yet. Lastly, she traced the lines going down the center of his palm.

"These are your fate lines, see how it's broken up? Big changes will happen in your future. Events will take place that will alter the course of your life, so keep a look out for that." Y/N finally let go of Eddie's hand, and she couldn't help but miss it.

"Well that doesn't sound good." Well, half of it didn't. The first part was definitely true.

"It's not an exact science, so take it with a grain of salt. I only know the basics because of someone I met at DnD." Eddie nodded, and decided to get up from his spot on the floor.

"Well shit you've could have told me that before nearly giving me a heart attack. O' beware Great Eddie The Banished! Imminent danger is afoot!" His arms are waving around like he's the Ghost of Christmas Past, prancing around the room like he did in the woods with Chrissy.

"I did not sound like that!" Y/N protested. She got up from the hammock and started to put everything away for the day, covering the evidence with a tarp in case they had to make a quick get away.

"Yea, you kind of did. But all is well, I do have a great and powerful witch by my side. My fair Lady Carnelian. You'll protect me from the big bads won't ya sweetheart?" Eddie was in the boat now, legs straddling seat, black tin box in front of him. He opened up the tin to roll another joint. Eddie still had plenty left, but they needed to ration it out. There wasn't much to do sitting around in a shabby boathouse, so burning one down always sounded like a good idea.

"Sure Eds, Little old me will surely protect you from all the big bads. Maybe I'll fight them with my pom poms or scare them away with a peppy cheer yell." Y/N walked over to the boat and sat on the other bench. She watched him carefully roll the joint between his fingers, licking the seam and gently pressing it clean. It shouldn't have been as mesmerizing as it was.

"I don't know, those cheers can be pretty terrifying. What's that one you guys did at the championship game our senior year? When we went against Christian Academy?" Eddie lit the joint and placed it in his mouth, taking a hit before passing it to Y/N.

"Do you mean the one we did at Half Time?" Y/N took a hit herself and passed it back.

"Yea that one, scared me right out of my boots. Do you still know it?" Y/N laughed and nodded. Then she got out of the boat, her cheer skirt swishing back and forth as she walked. She grabbed some old newspapers that were in the corner of the boathouse and started scrunching them up.

"What are you doing Y/N?" Eddie took another hit, he flicked some of the ash into the other half of the broken bottle he used as a makeshift weapon.

"I'm gonna scare you out of your boots." She kept scrunching the paper together, fluffing up some of the ends. Holy shit she was making pom poms. Eddie took another hit, he wasn't high enough for this.

Once Y/N was satisfied with the shape of the paper she walked towards Eddie, but gave a few feet of distance so she wouldn't accidentally kick him in the face. Then she began to yell.

"Tigers fans up in the stands yell goooooo Tigers!"

"Go Tigers." Eddie wasn't one for school spirit, he only went to a few games throughout his high school years. That stopped completely when Y/N graduated, but he humored her now.

"Tigers fans up in the stand yell beat those Cougars!"

"Beat them Cougars!" He got a little more into it then, didn't want her to feel like he was disinterested. He was definitely interested.

"One more time show your spirit fans, let's hear it, Goooo Tigers beat those Cougars!" She ruffled her paper pom poms in front of her, before holding her fist in the air.

"Beat those Cougars!" Eddie laughed, and took another hit of the joint. God what was his life now?

"Hey, hey. it's time to fight. Everybody yell: orange, green, and white! Yell it, orange, green, and white! Hey hey let's do it again, Everybody yell go fight to win! Yell it, go fight to win! Let's get physical, get rough, get tough, get mean, Let's get physical and roll right over that team!" She was doing the whole routine: arms waving, high kicking, pom pom shaking, the whole nine yards.

"Tigers let's do it, don't let it fall, We've got that spirit yea! We want it all! Hey go Tigers! Hey beat Cougars! We are the Tigers 'n we live in by the trees. 'N if u don't believe us, then watch us on our knees!" Y/N fell to her knees, her pom poms waving in the air. The sight was forever burned behind Eddie's eyelids.

"H-O-T-T-O-G-O! Tigers team is hot to go, Say whoop hot to go, say whoop hot to go! G-O! Let's go Tigers! G-O! Let's go!" Y/N was jumping and cheering, a blinding smile on her face. Eddie wasn't scared out of his boots, but his pulse was definitely racing at the end of all that.

"A superb performance. I'm certain if Vecna showed his ugly mug right now he'd be running for the hills." Y/N giggled and dropped her paper pom poms on the ground. She took her seat in the boat and reached for the near spent joint in Eddie's hand. She took a hit and ashed the roach on the boathouse floor.

"Oh big time. Vecna doesn't know who he's messing with." Eddie really wanted to believe that.

"Now I can rest easy knowing my fate lies in your lovely pom pom filled hands." Y/N wanted to believe that too.

They spent the rest of the morning talking about what they'd been up to for the past two years. How college was going for Y/N, how Eddie was certain he'd finally graduate. 1986, it was Eddie's year. It was fun, learning about each other. Y/N found herself forgetting about the reason they were both stuck in this boat house in the first place, that was until Eddie heard something outside.

"Hide." Eddie covered Y/N with the tarp on the boat, the sharp end of the broken beer bottle firmly in his hand again. He walked over to the window to investigate what he heard. The loud bang of the front door opening scared them both.

"Jesus!" Eddie yelled.

"Delivery service!" That was Dustin's voice. Y/N sighed in relief and lifted the tarp off of her.

"We have to come up with a secret knock or code word or something. You gotta stop scaring the shit out of me every time you guys come by." Eddie groaned as he made his way over to the boat. He plopped down next to Y/N, his hands rubbing against his face.

"We'll leave you a Walkie Talkie and give you updates. Sound good?" Dustin said as he handed them the food and snacks they brought.

"Yea that'll work." Eddie opened up the box of Honeycomb cereal and started shoving it in his mouth. Y/N grabbed a box of pop tarts for herself, they were brown sugar cinnamon flavor. Her mother never kept pop tarts in the house growing up, and she never thought to buy them for herself when she moved out for college. She undid the wrapper and took a bite, and nearly cried from how good it tasted. Y/N had barely eaten anything for the past few days, and she got sick yesterday, the tiny frosted square was like ambrosia to her.

"Did you guys manage to grab my cassette tape?" Y/N asked between bites.

"Yea its right here. I also grabbed your bag, didn't know if you needed anything from there too." Steve handed her the backpack. She unzipped it to find the well loved cassette tap gently placed on top, her walkman and other belongings deeper inside the bag. She noticed a new box of tampons and wet wipes in the bag as well, she looked up to see Steve pointedly avoiding her face.

"I ugh, asked Robin to get those. Didn't know when, or if you were... you know. I thought, just in case." Robin rolled her eyes and looked at Y/N with a shrug. Boys.

"Thanks Steve, I appreciate it. Who knows how long we'll be hiding out here for, good thinking." Y/N zipped up her bag and returned to her pop tart. Eddie looked between her and Steve, clueless to what they were talking about.

"So... Any word from the outside world?" Eddie asked, popping open a bottle of Yoo-hoo. He guzzled half of it down in one shot, some of the chocolate liquid spilling out the sides of his mouth. Y/N saw it slowly trickle down towards his chin. She licked her thumb and wiped his jaw clean, then she brought her thumb to her mouth and sucked off the excess. Eddie watched her do it, and he nearly choked.

"So we got, uh, some good news and some bad news..."

Taglist:

@imchangkyunned , @creativedogs , @nightless , @kik51199 , @thecraziestcrayon , @dabzzallday420 , @science--hoes , @efvyqrs ,

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x cunningham!reader #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson angst #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson fanfic #stranger things fanfic #stranger things eddie munson #stranger things season 4 #stranger things s4 #stranger things fanficton #stranger things fluff #stranger things angst #stranger things x reader #steve the babysitter

[bberry005]

Episode 6 Thoughts

okay i love how the recent episodes have been focusing a lot on kit and her like character development through this whole thing. her world is quite literally being ripped out from under her (the arranged marriage, jade revealing that she let kit win, her brother being kidnapped) and this episode just added to the whole thing and then made it all make sense.

Kit and Madmartigan

kit's relationship with her father was definitely one of the central points of this episode. she loves her dad a lot despite the fact he's been gone for 10 years and she's willing to go into a place where she knows she'll get killed to try and save him. she wants to see her dad again, but mostly she wants answers about her past and why madmartigan even left them. also, kit taking madmartigan's sword and that now being her weapon was just such a cherry on top to the whole experience. kit wants to be like the madmartigan she knows from her childhood and from the stories and she doesn't want to deal with the consequences of him leaving and everything else.

Kit and Elora

WOW. let me just say, their argument at the end was spot on. we finally learned why kit doesn't like elora, and it's because in kit's mind, her own father was constantly choosing elora over her and her brother. kit doesn't want to be angry at her father because she admires him so much, so she projects that anger onto elora instead. so while kit's anger is justifiable, the fact that she's taking it all out on elora is not. because it isn't elora's fault. and elora has been so worried about what she kept hearing from the pit meant and now she finally knows and it's just confirmed all of her fears. that she's not great, she'll never live up to her destiny, and she's going to be the reason the world quite literally crumbles around them. also props to ruby cruz and ellie bamber the acting during that was SPOT ON. i loved it and it made me feel all the right emotions.

Boorman, Allagash, and Marmartigan

not much to say here other than the fact it contributes to the idea that we never know when boorman is telling the truth and when he's lying. it also helps show more sides to the story of how madmartigan went missing and the story of the cuirass

also, allagash saying "because he knew one of you would protect what's important up here: elora danan" was definitely the turning point that made kit snap

Other - we know kit is alive (thank GOD) because of the trailers. and we also know that her armor in the trailers is likely the cuirass. the cuirass is meant to protect, and i think the stuff with kit and the cuirass has a lot more meanings that i need to think about before i post anything about my thoughts - graydon this episode was so great. the way he was making sure elora was okay the whole time - the trolls were hilarious - READY for next week. the opening scene of episode 7 being the surface of the water breaking and jade diving in after kit would just be like perfect - airk just being like "nope" when he heard the spooky voice gave me hope that he won't succumb to the crone but the lady at the end is a little too suspicious for comfort

okay that's all for now but i'll DEFINITELY have more to say

#willow spoilers #willow 2022 #kit tanthalos #jade claymore #elora danan #graydon hastur #thraxus boorman #allagash #madmartigan #i have so many theories now #the last two episodes are going to be so insane

[sassykattery]

Blue Christmas

The holidays got me feeling down so I threw together a little something.

CW: Altaira is afab oc, uses she/her pronouns. Talks about some family issues/dysfunction, depression around the holidays. Reference to having sex at the end.

Pairing: Diavolo x oc! Altaira (established romantic relationship)

Characters: Altaira, Diavolo, Barbatos, Lucifer, mention brothers.

Themes: Romance, holidays, depression, family, found family

Minors and ageless blogs DNI

18+ only

Enjoy

"Yes... Yes, this is perfect! I finally found the perfect gift for Altaira, wouldn't you agree?" Diavolo admired his work aloud, turning his head to look at Barbatos for approval.

They stood in the greater living room where the Christmas tree was, grand and tall, the topper nearly scraping the ceiling. It was decorated in the royal color palette, red, black, and gold galore. Beautiful garlands encircled the tree, spiraling down around the delicate ornaments adorning the branches. Beneath the tree were mountainous piles of presents, nearly reaching halfway up the tree.

Barbatos cocked his head. "My lord? You used the singular "gift"... You bought precisely seventy-nine for her?"

"Isn't it wonderful?! Her first Christmas as my partner! I had to surpass any and all expectations, of course. Oh, she'll be so pleased," Diavolo beamed.

"I see. And... what did you tell her that you wanted for Christmas?" Barbatos inquired, tweaking the branches on the palace Christmas tree.

"I'm going to assume you're not shopping last minute for me by asking, so I'll tell the truth: Nothing."

"Nothing? My lord?" Barbatos cocked his head again.

"Yes! I simply want to see the joy on her face as she opens every single one. I can't be distracted! Plus, anything I ever want, I already have or can get easily. This year... I just want her," Diavolo replied with a softened smile as he thought fondly of Altaira.

"I'm here, Diavolo. Let's make this quick, I have six brothers and a lone human they all feel frisky for at home to get back to," Lucifer groaned as he walked in. "Today, Mammon and Satan– hell's bell's, what is this? Please tell me..."

"It's all for Altaira!" Diavolo gestured excitedly, his smile gleaming and tone jovial.

Lucifer frowned and folded his arms. The Demon Lord immediately lost his grin and folded his arms as well, seeing the look on his friend's face.

"Speak your mind, Lucifer," Diavolo commanded.

"...Have you ever asked Altaira how she feels about the holidays?" Lucifer asked.

"I imagine she loves them much like other humans, and we do as well," Diavolo answered, a bit naively.

Lucifer sighed. "I recommend you have a lengthy conversation about that the next time you see her... preferably before you give her all of... that," he gestured vaguely toward the mountains of presents.

"She's never expressed discomfort in it before," Diavolo replied in defense.

"Sure, but she's polite to a fault," Lucifer answered.

"How do you mean?"

"Altaira knows how much you love parties and celebrating... But you and I both know she's more of an introvert and prefers to be alone in her rooms," Lucifer explained. "She's not going to deny you a holiday party."

Diavolo stewed on this, unable to deny what his friend said. "She's never told me otherwise. Has she told you?"

Lucifer smirked. "From a person in a dysfunctional family to another, she and I have an understanding. And yes, we've talked about it. But it's better if she explained it to you directly."

He began to walk away from the royals and back to the House of Lamentation.

Diavolo stared at the Christmas presents he'd bought for her, all wrapped in the finest papers and bows. Black and rose gold they were, her royal color cast with glittering embellishments and designs.

Surely she loves Christmas... doesn't she?

"Hi honey," Altaira murmured as Diavolo brushed up against her, leering over her shoulder to see what she was doing. He watched as she signed some documents as her half of the royal decrees were being made for the new year at her desk in her personal office in the palace.

"That can wait until after the holiday, my love," he murmured, observing her.

"It's fine, I don't mind working," she answered.

Diavolo chuckled. "Aren't we a pair: One of us who avoids work and the other who actively seeks it," he commented in reply. She didn't say anything else, so he continued, "Is there a reason you're working?"

Altaira went silent as she pondered his question.

"The holidays aren't my favorite time of year," she answered simply. "It's easier to work and be occupied than to sit around and think about it."

He slipped his arm around her waist, pulling himself closer, his torso pressed to her flank, his head bowed low to talk to her.

"Can I be so privileged as to know why?" He asked softly.

She put her pen down and gave it some thought.

"The holidays wear on me after a while. It's exciting at first, getting everyone gifts and sharing joy... but the closer we get, the more stressful it is. Do I have a gift for everyone? Do I need to wrap or buy a gift bag? Is this enough? What are we eating? Who's hosting? And then there's the back and forth, the arguing, the miscommunication, the fights," She explained. "It's... a lot."

Diavolo nodded along, understanding her concerns. He waited until she was done.

"I hear you... It is a lot," he answered. "And I know that you tend to be hard on yourself. You raise your expectations and feel disappointed when they're not met. As far as the rest goes..." Diavolo chuckled and put his other hand on her shoulder. "That's what you do with the people you love. You fight, talk, argue, and so on because you want them around you. If you didn't talk at all... Well, would you even call them your family?"

Altaira sighed and looked to the side. "Well... Yes. I do. A good portion of my family I don't talk to because it's just easier than fighting with them."

The prince sat with this information for a moment, getting more to the root of her holiday blues.

"Since I don't have much family around, and I don't have your lived experiences, I don't know if I can speak much on that... But I hope that doesn't turn out to be the case with your family here," he finally replied.

"Darling, I–" Altaira quickly turned to face him, craning her neck back to look up at him. "I could never, and you know why? Because you're my chosen family. You and everyone else here I chose to call my own. I don't speak to my family to keep the peace. I think if I chose to stop talking to any of you, it'd start the next Unholy Wars." Diavolo smirked, and she relaxed. "My love, no matter how agitated or irate I get, I love you so much. I can't imagine my life without you."

"I understand, and I appreciate your words of affirmation. I just hope maybe someday... things can change for you. I just want you to be happy. But I don't wish to patronize you," he replied with a gentle smile. "However, knowing all of this begs the question... Do you wish to not celebrate Christmas?"

Altaira sighed. "No, honey, I do want to celebrate it. As grinchy as I can be about the whole thing, I come to enjoy parts of it. Like being with you," she answered.

He smiled wider. "We can do that."

"I don't mind doing our parties and whatnot... don't cancel them on my accord. Just make sure I have a glass in my hand and food in the other."

"I can make that happen."

"I did go ahead and get you something," she added with an ornery grin.

His brow went up. "May I know what it is?"

"Me, with a side of Demonus and some alone time in your room," she purred softly.

Immediately, his golden eyes were alight with lust and excitement. "Is that right? I can think of no greater gift, my treasure," he answered with a soft voice filled with trepidation. He paused. "Maybe one."

It was her turn to raise a brow.

"Let me put my ring on that finger, and that'll be the greatest gift I'll ever receive," he added. Altaira chuckled and patted his chest.

"We'll see," she replied as she walked away from her desk.

Diavolo followed her out and eyed the Christmas tree as they walked by the greater living room, spying the little rose gold box sitting between some of the branches up high and out of her line of sight.

"Yes, we will."

Thanks for reading <3

Tags: @delphi-dreamin @biteable-pink-pixie @attic-club-sandwich @flemmingbamse @itsmeninerz

#obey me #obey me shall we date #sassywrites #sassystories #obey me fanfic #obey me diavolo #diavolo x altaira #diavolo x oc #diavolo x fem oc #selfship

[touchlikethesun]

i have been seeing jegulus not slander necessarily but dissenting opinions on my dash (i admit, my fault for following people that don't ship jegulus, but i will continue to follow them because i admire their reflections and welcome a plurality of opinions), and i wanted to offer my refutation (in the best faith possible,i promise) of a few of the common arguments i've seen against jegulus:

(below the cut because it's a tad long)

jegulus is a parallel to wolfstar: i'll admit, the first time i saw someone make this complaint i was a bit surprised because i don't think i've seen anyone parallel jegulus and wolfstar except for the fact that very often a fic will have both jegulus and wolfstar, but i think in the majority of fics the similarities stop there. the black brothers have family trauma, and that affects their relationships, but james and remus are very different themselves, and their relationships with their respective brother start at different points, follow different trajectories, have completely different dynamics.

jegulus replaces peter with regulus in the marauders group: okay, yes i will agree that that is often the case but my next question would be, what marauders fic period have you read where peter was really treated as part of the group and where his relationship with the others was developed at all? because i can't think of a single one, jegulus or no. so that's not a critique of jegulus that's a critique of the fandom as a whole.

jegulus deemphasises how important the marauders' friend group, and especially sirius, is to james: i think it's possible that in some fics that choose to focus specifically on jegulus' relationship (y'know... because they're jegulus fics??) the marauders take a back seat, or sometimes james' relationship with sirius is not as important as you think it should be, but this is not every fic, it's again not something inherent to jegulus but to how shipping and fandoms work generally. we can't do everything all the time, and people are going to focus of the things that interest them. there are also plenty of jegulus fics that really insist on the importance of sirius' relationship with james (and with reg but most people making this complaint seem not to care about that in my experience), it's just a question of asking for recs. also, as another point, this is not a complaint people make of any other ship. how many wolfstar fics are out there where james (and reg) are not mentioned once?? a fair few!!! it's just hypocritical to complain about this in jegulus but not in wolfstar

jegulus is misogynistic towards lily: (ohhhh my god i wish ppl would shut up about this one) i'm not saying there isn't misogyny in the fandom, there's misogyny every where, it is kinda unavoidable in our society. jegulus is not inherently misogynistic towards lily because there is nothing inherent in lily's character that says she needs to be with james. her character can exist fully fleshed out and separate from james, and frankly it's odd how insistent some people are that lily absolutely must be with james.

regulus is a deatheater and james would never: and did james potter tell you this himself? the thing is, these are fictional characters that we know next to nothing about. we literally do not know enough about any of the marauders characters (except the one's we see in canon like sirius, remus, etc., but even then, we're imagining their characters pre-war and pre-azkaban typically so...) to make any definitive statement that something is out of character. you can not like the characterisation of james in jegulus fic, but you can't speak as if you have any more authority on his character than anyone else. okay? okay.

jegulus neuters the worst aspects of regulus' character: instinctually, i want to agree with this, but the truth is that the same thing i said for james applies here. we know so little about regulus' canon character (and everything we do know is second hand from sirius and kreacher, so obvious bias), that this really isn't a critique you can even make. again, you cannot like how regulus is characterised in a jegulus fic (nvm that jegulus is quite vast and the charactersiation varies incredibly) but you can't critique jegulus as being the cause of the characterisation you didn't like

however, all that said, none of this really matters because at the end of the day the most important thing is ship and let ship. i understand that it is very annoying when you hate/don't understand a popular ship, but like... you are not going to change anyone's mind by complaining. i would hope if you're going to post hate, you might at least do the courtesy of censoring names so jegulus fans don't see it.

#i have been thinking about this for some time lol #if you don't like something block and move on #if you absolutely MUST post hate then censor so people looking for content don't find your hate like #i feel like it's common respect tbh #jegulus #marauders #fandom culture

[memestockpile]

falsettos, act 1 (1992) feel free to change as needed.

bitch, bitch, bitch, bitch, all the time.

what we need is a miracle!

we need to know our worst sides aren't ignored.

the guilt invested will in time pay wisely.

we're good in bed.

who stole the bed?

i'm nauseous.

i do not wish to offend.

i divorced my wife, i left my child, and i ran off with a friend.

i want a tight-knit family.

so it's [year], and we don't go by the book.

i love the way they cook linguine.

i swear we're gonna come through it.

sit down, my dear. i hear you have a problem.

take a load off your feet.

that's a question with no answer.

let's not discuss the weather, let's face the facts.

love isn't sex. that's a thing my husband once told me.

breathe deep, my dear.

put your head in my hands.

maybe, darling, so do you.

you're a lovely girl.

love is blind. love can tell a million stories. love's unkind, spiteful in a million ways.

[name] is a prick.

will you be my valentine?

i've a scalpel up my sleeve.

do not ever slit your wrists.

love reads like a bad biography, all the names are changed to protect the innocent.

i think she's very insecure, but so am i.

i never married. work is my passion.

yeah, i don't care to discuss it.

i admit, i admire you.

hang up all your clothes.

god, you're impossible.

we are the salt of the bourgeoisie.

[name] doesn't share my devotion to style.

men in cufflinks make me forget my name.

what is this, wash and wear?

[name] has unlimited knowledge of dreck.

i was rich, he was horny.

ha, don't be a fool.

i was trained in karate.

i'll kill for that thrill of first love.

do you love him?

it makes me feel i'm sort of smart.

well, that's not quite true.

the pitcher's handsome.

is it my fault, though? should i be blamed for that?

i don't live the life of a normal child.

i'm too smart for my own good, and i'm too good for my sorry little life.

honey, why don't you go out and play?

sweetheart. i worry.

what is normal?

please see a psychiatrist.

hey, kid, listen!

they don't make house calls.

that's what pretty boys should do.

this had better come to a stop.

this has been a tragic and horrible flop.

i'm frightened of questions.

don't touch me!

why is it always ourselves who have to change?

you've got a temper than redefines temper.

i'd like to be a princess on a throne.

my life is shitty.

i can cry on cue.

i'm breaking down.

it's just he's so damn happy, that it makes me so damn mad.

please come to our house.

it's a slight exaggeration, but he's sick in the head.

what should i say to the man? should i be mean to the man?

let's eat some food.

the kid looks pretty miserable.

ugh, ain't that the truth.

i get apoplexy thinking of my father. i resemble him in far too many ways.

stop! look around you. no one's screaming at you.

why don't you feel alright for the rest of your life?

her hand is ready, it only needs a ring.

i'll buy confetti and sing.

it's not my responsibility to ask you, but i wonder if it's ever crossed your mind?

i think you're swell.

i crave your wrist. i praise your thigh.

i'll love you until i die.

they grow, but don't mature.

their toys are people's lives.

it's a goddamn surety.

does this mean that i'm a fairy?

what a stupid theory!

i've made a decision to get the things i need.

i'll beat the odds, i'll have good sex.

please, don't watch me.

have a little scotch.

shit, i blew it.

i fear i've lost my head.

do you want my help?

i can think it through myself.

god, you're pretty.

maybe we should call it quits.

checkmate!

this had better come to a stop.

visit when you please. you are not required to phone.

i've a good and a bad side, but they're one and the same.

ask me to arouse you, i will rise and obey.

i screw every morning, then bathe and drink tea.

it's tough, my friend.

these are the games i play.

goodness, [name], i am relieved.

they are pseudo-romantic and sick!

how i despise your need for stupid conversation.

how could you ever deny what we had?

i never wanted to love you.

i hate the world!

i love the things i never had.

i think girls are the most beautiful thing.

what i've done to you is rotten.

this here is love, when we're talking face-to-face.

i've made my choice, you can sing a different song.

you'll be a man, kid.

#ask meme #roleplay #askbox meme #rp meme #inbox meme #inbox rp meme #ask #meme #askbox #roleplay meme #askbox rp #tumblr rp #rp #tumblr roleplay #rp inbox meme #rp sentence meme #sentence starters #sentence starter meme #sentence meme #roleplay sentence meme

[invisiblegarters]

Be My Favorite Ep 4

I have to say again, I did not expect to like this show this much, but well, here we are, I guess. My 2023 BL watching has been sporadic at best, and it does feel good to get back into following a show as it airs. Good prep for the glut we're gonna get later in the year, right? :D

All right I think I am going to like Max and Kawi together. Max seems like a straight shooter but not in a mean way. Kawi needs that, I think.

Okay, no, I definitely like these two together.

Man, though. I sometimes think about what I'd do differently if I could go back in time - I think it's something most people have thought about at least once or twice - and there's some, but maybe not as much as I like to think. The dad thing just gets to me, here. More than everything else. Just right in the chest.

I just really don't love hazing stuff. Don't care if it's "all in good fun" or not, it just doesn't sit well with me.

And now we all know that Piseang is going to show up, because we have room sharing shenanigans to get to.

Knot is the worst, guys. Just, genuinely. Aw, I like that at least one of them thought to ask Kawi if he needs or wants help with Pear. I mean, he totally needs help haha the poor boy is just useless at this, but I don't think he needs the seniors specific help. I don't trust them at all, mostly because Knot is involved and as I said, he's the worst.

And a wild Pisaeng appears to save the day! Bet that Kawi does not appreciate this.

Oof, this is awkward. These people are so awful, ugh.

Honestly, neither of them deserve this. This is so painful and it really doesn't need to be heard by a bunch of jerks who think that Kawi's punching above his weight class, so to speak.

Oh, honey. Although I have to say I do admire his guts in confessing. But it stings.

I have to say though that this love triangle cracks me up a little.

Okay I am Pisaeng in the bar sceen. Pisaeng is me. Kawi, no. Kawi, stop. Except I'm not also fueled by jealousy, ha.

Oh. Oh, hey, I kind of love the fight that Pisaeng and Kawi have. Because Kawi isn't wrong, is he? Pisaeng knows how Pear feels about him and he's ignoring it for whatever reason - my guess is to keep peace and to keep his childhood friend staying around/trying to keep from hurting her because he cares for her even if he can't like her back - but in the long run all he's doing is prolonging the inevitable. Then again he does marry her in the future, but yeesh, that's not great either. Because they've pretty much told us that he doesn't grow to love her. He just...apparently keeps keeping on the buddy role, taking care of her. Pear is a sweetheart and she deserves someone who truly loves her. Both of them deserve to be with people they want and who want them back.

I am glad that he did listen and tell Pear the truth, finally. Man, all these rejections in this episode.

Guys, I really like Pear. She is so awesome. Although aaaah, I really don't know if I'm into her being sweet with Kawi directly after she rejected him. I do think that she's just trying to be nice and that she is probably also making a very clear statement to assholes about where her own loyalties lie, but also please don't confuse him, girl, you were doing so well. Then again it's not her fault if he mistakes being nice for feelings. I hope that they can actually settle into a friendship, because I think they'd be good ones.

Wait, is Pisaeng gonna do one of his own confessions next ep? I was kind of waiting for it this one, not gonna lie. Might as well go for the trifecta.

...all right. I admit it. I'm hooked. Definitely in for whatever comes next.

#be my favorite #episode 4

[sheikah]

So Leigh just addressed the stunt double brown face issue on her insta live. She said more than once that what happened is unacceptable and she’s sorry the cast had to go through it. She said she can’t speak to the specifics of how or why it happened, says she didn’t know it happened until the fandom posted the pictures online. Apparently she wasn’t on set much and stunt double casting isn’t something she was in the loop about. She said her ignorance of it isn’t an excuse because not knowing about harm isn’t PREVENTING harm. She said her talking about it in this capacity is not an official statement and that she was actually advised to say nothing. Said if there is a season 2 they’ll do better and she hopes that this incident can spark a larger conversation about these issues in the industry. 

#yall know i'm not the biggest fan of this woman but i think it was a good statement #and if she's telling the truth this isn't her fault and i admire her wanting to address it and recognizing that it matters #and that harm was done #shadow and bone #leigh bardugo #the sacred texts!

[eremiie]

broken promises

❥ angst | 3.9k words | eren x armin

❥ content: none. just pure heart break.

❥ the moment you’re born your soulmates words are etched into your skin, and the moment you meet them they disappear just as fast. so when eren meets armin why don’t his words go? and why does armin have to carry the weight of a wretched life on his shoulders? surely his fate is his fault.

this fic is a rendition of chapter 139! read at your own risk

this fic is for @mikaberries 4k collab event! my word was ‘broken promises’ and my ship was eremin! enjoy<3

ty to @arlerted for beta reading this fic!

"hey, why don't you put up a fight?"

those were the first words muttered to him.

"you're wrong! i'm not losing because i don't run."

those were the first words that made the black mark sprawled on eren's wrist begin to fade away, seeping from the tan skin and sprawling like dust onto the concrete he stood on.

the first words that made the blue of armin's eyes dazzle with interest, peering over his shoulder almost tumbling over to get a fresh look at what was holding eren's interest so well.

he knew what was holding eren's interest, he's seen it before with so many people close to him, he's heard stories from his grandparents. it couldn't be happening to him though? happening so soon? i mean he was just a kid, he—

"you're my soulmate..."

so if eren was his soulmate, why didn't the words disappear?

so if eren was his soulmate, why didn't the words disappear?

so if eren was his soulmate, why didn't the words disappear?

why were his first words to him not the ones scribbled on his skin?

nevertheless, armin wanted to grasp any hope presented to him. if eren was his soulmate he'd try his best to believe him. surely it was just a glitch in the system, maybe a phenomenon never discovered. but even then it didn't matter, because how eren's eyes gleamed at his bare wrist, eyes flicking from armin to his arm, to armin, it was all the confirmation armin needed.

still, on sleepless nights, when only the moonlight would beam through the window of the barracks leaving enough light for armin to peer down at the bare skin of eren's wrist and the words i promise on his own, he couldn't help but wonder if eren was really his.

his pale hand engulfs with eren's as eren drapes his arm over armin's waist. it was so welcoming. that same hand wraps him in blankets, it cups the soft skin of armin's cheek, it adjusts armin's ODM gear, it was the hand that armin, just by the way it moves so lovingly, would've suspected belongs to his soulmate.

it couldn't have been a mistake, mistakes with things like this just didn’t happen.

"i'm yours." eren's voice would grumble against the nape of armin's neck, breath fanning over the new goosebumps formed, and hand squeezing armin's a little tighter.

armin's breath hitches, swallowing his spit before adjusting himself until he was facing eren.

his eyes were so beautiful in the dim light. armin could admire every speck of blue that would dance across the green canvas, every slight glimmer of gold that reminds armin of eren's mother. it reminds him of the same glimmer that dropped onto the cold concrete when eren was deemed his.

eren blinks, once or twice, armin can't remember because his mind drifts farther than he wants, and untangles their hands, bringing one up to armin's cheek.

it's wet, a fresh tear falling from the corner of armin's eye that eren brushes away with the pad of his thumb.

when armin leans back to give eren a one over, he doesn't remember when eren’s hair got longer, when his eyes became so dull, or when his smile became a permanent pout.

his soulmate isn't supposed to be his and he lets the thought pull him away from reality more often than not. no matter how many times eren could repeat how they were meant to be it would never feel right.

there was a barrier in between them that kept armin farther away from eren than he wanted to be. a barrier that armin pounded against, aching to break and release him from the solemn thoughts that clouded his brain.

when eren wipes another tear that shines against armin's cheek, he pushes forward on the bed, pressing his forehead against armin's and closing his eyes so armin can't see them anymore.

the simple touch, the simple gesture brings armin back to reality and he can feel that familiar longing in the pit of his stomach, the furrow in eren's brow, and the newfound wetness of his cheek.

he doesn't mean to press his forehead so hard against eren's, but the closer he is to him, the more he can feel the warmth of eren's skin. he can silence the storm inside of him. maybe if he tries hard enough and sticks close to eren that barrier would break, at least crack.

eren's palm brings armin as close as possible by the back of his head until he can feel armin breathing on his chin. armin could tell eren that he wasn't meant for him over and over again, but there was no mark on his wrist anymore, no sign that screamed armin wasn't his in his eyes. as long as his skin was a clean slate, as long as he could spend restless nights with his lover, days laying in each other's arm's under the tree as they stared at the wall longing for freedom, armin belonged to him.

"will you still be mine when you leave for marley?" he cuddles closer to eren, hands sat against his lover’s chest as he takes pleasure in his presence.

eren reluctantly nods his head and presses armin closer, a soft press of his lips to armin's nose.

"i'll still be yours."

"and you'll—"

"i'll still be yours. until we see the rest of the world together; the flaming water, frozen plains, and snowfields of sand."

armin stifles noise and sinks down from where he was against eren’s forehead until his head is in the fabric of eren's shirt, hands grabbing at the cotton so tight that eren's afraid he might tear it.

eren's shirt is getting wet but he doesn't mind. he wants to cry too.

instead, he lets his thumb smooth over the same strands of blonde hair he plaits while sitting in a field of campanulas, and lets his hand lightly ruffle the tresses he watches armin toy with, contemplating if he should cut them or not.

the next time he sees armin they're cut.

the next time armin sees eren, his eyes are duller than that night they were tangled in each other's arms.

armin barely says a word to eren on the airship, there was nothing to be said. nothing to be said when sasha died, her blood staining the wood of the ship. nothing to be said after the conversation at the table, armin's blood being wiped away by the damp cloth in mikasa's hand.

he never had a voice like eren, but when he screams at him on the floor where he sits around shards of broken glass and spilled wine as mikasa tries to get him to stand, he uses eren's own voice against him— words so passionate and spat like venom at eren that he has no choice but to turn around for a mere second.

someone who could kill so plainly and drag his loved ones along, not shedding a single tear as he goes, didn't seem like the soulmate set for armin.

but the way eren turns around, a snarl on his face that juxtaposes the gloss of a limpid tear in his eye— for a second, just for a second armin thinks otherwise.

and when he looks down at his wrist, "i promise." still haunting him, he wishes the world was kind.

ᝰ

armin slams the door behind himself, leaving mikasa alone in the gloomy storage room.

it was his fault a darkened cloud was hanging over the room, his outburst at mikasa wasn't her fault— but how could she even think about eren with all the peril happening?

his breathing is heavy and the sounds of titans are right next to his ears, pounding and stomping their way across the ocean, across the world. it was so noisy, the screams outside, people running from falling debris. he wishes the noise would cease for only a moment so he could gather his thoughts.

armin wipes at his eyes in hopes that it would stop the way his vision begins to blur. he stumbles backward using his free hand to steady himself once he hits the brick wall behind him.

truth being, no matter how little the thought was he was thinking about eren too.

he pulls at his sleeve to further hide his wrist, teeth-gritting as he fails to hold back tears that slip from his eyes and onto the floor he stood on. they decorate the stone floors in lovely splotches, darkening the grey and creating spots that'd disappear with time. but, as long as armin kept crying the least likely the evidence would simply "disappear".

"i'm tired." his voice cracks and like a broken dam tears begin to flow free, sliding down his cheeks as his skin begins to flush. he knows he can't stop them now. he can't stop the thoughts in his head or the tears staining his cheeks. he wishes to relax and be at the ocean again, staring across the waves where he finally got a taste of what freedom was before it was snatched away again. "i hate this."

no matter how hard he wipes at them, they're never-ending. why does he have to be the boy whocries? who can't defend himself, the boy with the burden placed on him, the boy with no soulmate. "i hate this, i hate this."

his knees buckle and he allows himself to slide down the wall, ODM gear clinking as it hits the floor, the wall rough as it scrapes against the material of his shirt. it's easier to block out the cries of terror outside and instead bury himself in his hands to cry for someone to release him from this stress.

he's tired of the wrenching in his heart, thoughts being solely on the one he thought was destined for him. no matter how hard he tries to think of what was most important his mind can't help but wander back to calm nights with eren. what could've been and what he wished became.

how did he fall in love with someone so wretched? and how did they make him so wretched?

his sniffles are the only thing he can hear and his tears decorate the sleeves of his shirt— just like he decorated eren's the last night his arms cradled him close.

"i hate you. i hate that we have to kill you— you're," a sob breaks his sentence, but he's thankful for it because he didn't want to finish it anyway. the next words to come out wouldn't have been true. they would've just been a fit of anger and sadness that clawed at his heart, twisting it between its grasp and trying its best to break the little hope armin had left.

"we have to kill you." is what he says instead.

what was he doing? there was no time to sob, no time to cry over someone like eren. he would heed the words he told mikasa— there was no time to think about eren, he was a lost cause.

armin unsteadily picks himself off the ground, adjusting the gear around his waist and using the back of his hand to wipe stray tears. he's lucky no one came through or went out the doors— it would've just been another open performance of his weakness and it'd be proof that erwin was the one who should've been chosen that day.

he would let eren go and he would do what he had to do to save the people around him, it was the least he could do after erwin's death.

ᝰ

when his titan is standing in front of eren's colossal titan those words mean nothing.

it's the adrenaline that tames the pull on his heart. he's so close yet so far— his soulmate, no eren, is right there but here he was doing all he could to stop him.

there's no time to relish in the past, although it flashes in the back of his head. loose memories of what eren was and the monster he’s become.

he wants to remember eren's rough palms against his cheeks again, his natural warmth he radiates while he pulls armin close as possible. but he pushes the memories to the back of his head— they were nothing but an echo now.

he has to give it his all because he's sure eren isn't thinking the same way as him.

the mosaic of him holds pieces of eren in it and it was evident by the flicker of eren's passion in his eyes when he stares him down, fists raised and only a murmur of "why did it turn out this way?" leaving trembling lips.

when he throws a heavy arm at eren it's like it all happens in slow motion; first, a pounding in his skull, causing him to close his eyes at the twinge, then a burst of light flashing over his eyes, and albeit how they stayed close a blanket of white drops over his vision.

he loses his balance and wonders if eren has knocked him out yet, until he lands on a hard surface. the pale sand is grainy under his hands and for some reason, his mind is blank. the soft whirring of what sounded like wind whips past his ears. he's calm.

armin flutters doe eyes open, adjusting to the brightness of the light in front of him. it was oddly familiar. purples, blues, and greens surrounded the striking light— and the longer he stares forth, the more it reminds armin of a tree whose branches reach for the sky. he's mesmerized. this must be what space is— stars adorning the black mural, as rays of colorful light burst over the top of armin like pops of fire being sent into the sky.

it's beautiful, and armin's reminded of earth, of the comfort of life— even in the walls. maybe this was what he believed was on the other side of the walls when he was younger, and if he sat in front of his younger self and explained the sight in front of him, telling him this is what was out there, he was sure he would've believed it.

"armin."

the blonde whips his head around, meeting a face his memories know so well.

eren's skin is illuminated by the light of paths, a gleam in such familiar green eyes that he only ever thought he'd see in his dreams. his hands are pocketed and his hair is free, laying gently against the side of his face. bags pull at the skin below his eyes and a tired smile graces his face as he puts a hand out for armin to grab.

armin wants to grab it but he recoils, scrambling to stand up on his own and dusting the sand from his hands. his eyebrows are furrowed and he's scowling at eren as he crosses his arms.

he doesn't know what to say— he doesn't know where he is. he's still mad at eren, he can't just take him to a dream-like place and think everything is okay. he's killed so many people, he's dragged his friends into what could only be described as hell, and eren didn't know the toll he put on armin's life. he couldn't just waltz into it, destroy everything, and expect armin to just talk to him again.

armin seems to always be too caught up in his thoughts because when eren's palm– that's still as warm as he remembers– presses him to eren's chest it takes him a moment too long to realize. the ends of eren's hair that graze armin's nose is something he'd never thought he'd feel again.

eren shouldn't be hugging him, but he can't push him off— it hurts.

it hurts when eren's stray tears hit the top of his head and it hurts when eren clings to armin like he'll disappear if he lets go. the cries of "i'm sorry," are all armin can hear as eren sinks to the floor in front of him, weeping tears of agony and years of pain that he was never able to share.

eren knows he caused everyone pain, and he knows what he's done is unforgivable, and although he's caused everyone so many tears, eren needs to be the boy who cries this time.

armin shudders, impending sobs trying to wrack his body. his hand cups his mouth as he drops to his feet as well. when eren glances up at him with woeful eyes, he can paint a picture with those blue flecks and glimmers of gold that he finally gets to see again. he sighs shakily and turns his head away from eren in fear of the tears he was trying to blink back from falling.

armin lets eren explain himself.

he lets eren reduce him to a complete sobbing mess. all these months of asking himself why was all summed up to him, the only question being left unanswered being why he still had words slapped across his wrist. he doesn't dare to ask about it— he's sure he already knows the answer.

"so... you're going to die?" armin asks hesitantly, scrunching particles of sand in between his hands.

"i have to. i have to atone somehow."

it's the words armin knows would slip from eren's mouth but not the words armin wants to hear. leaning forward he places his hands on eren's shoulders, a pleading look across the ocean that was his eyes. at least that's how eren would describe it.

"but maybe there's a way we can fix this!"

eren gives armin a small smile, placing his hands over armin's so gently. "armin... you think i'll be free like you once all this is over?"

armin's pleading expression fades and is replaced by a dejected one, his lips falling and his eyebrows turning upwards. "eren..."

eren pulls armin close to him, hand in his hair once more, tangling through the blonde strands and burying his nose into them. they smell just how he remembered, even with how short his hair was now— like fresh linen and the smell of the ocean that lingers even after only one visit.

"eren," his eyes screw as he bawls into eren's shoulder while wrapping his arms around him. "but you promised."

armin pulls away just as fast when the thought hits him. he grabs eren's wrist and pulls it from his hair. "you promised! you said we'd see the flaming water... the... the frozen plains and the snowfields of sand! you promised!"

eren shakes his head profusely, more tears being shed as his hands come up to cup armin's own wet face.

armin's vision is obscured by his own tears and he rests his head in the palm of eren's head, indulging in the feeling because he won't get to feel it again.

he'll remember the intimacy he shared with eren from hearing his heartbeat in his ears as he laid against his chest to tracing the skin of eren's arm to lull himself to sleep. it wasn't fair that it had to be like this. that it had to be a mere reflection of what was, but it was his fault for being so gullible.

from the day he was still left with such a taunting mark he should've known that if his mark was still etched on his wrist, eren being his soulmate wasn't tangible. he should've left well enough alone and accepted his fate, met his soulmate years from that day and lived the life he was meant to live.

maybe then he wouldn't be stuck in what was a cruel form of torture, a life that lead to show him his karma of being so greedy— of trying to hold onto whatever was sent his way. he wasn't even supposed to be here right now.

yet, here he was, eren pressing his lips to armin's forehead, both of his cheeks, his nose and then a last tender one to his lips. although armin struggles to reciprocate them, eren can understand that they were received.

"you go, and you see all of those things without me because even when i'm not here the freedom you're granted is proof of me."

shaky hands reach to place themselves over eren's. "you promised."

"i'm sorry."

"eren, you—"

"i'm sorry."

to armin, it was confirmation that him and eren weren't meant to be. soulmates just weren't like this. he wouldn't have his mark, there wouldn't be so much hurt, and the promise eren shared with him would've been fulfilled.

armin refused to believe that his soulmate is eren.

he couldn't wonder who would come after eren when someone like eren existed. he couldn't fathom who else would put their life on the line like eren did not only for him but for everyone around him. who else would fight like eren did, all for selfless reasons.

whoever was eren’s true soulmate has to be the saddest yet happiest person on earth, to have a destined one like eren yet never be able to acknowledge him.

he'd come to terms with eren's fate, and he'd move on— after all what he thought was his fate was never meant to be.

eren pulls armin to a standing position and using the sleeve of his coat he wipes both him and armin's faces.

"i love you."

armin takes in eren's features, noting them down so he'd be able to remember them forever— even after he's gone.

"i love you too."

stepping forward, eren takes armin's hand in his own. "i'll be with you every step you take away from those walls and i'll be with you everywhere you visit."

it's hard to hear, but armin still manages to nod his head.

"i promise."

eren and everything around him begins to fade. he's trying to piece him together in his mind— create a solid memory to cherish forever.

the world around him fades and he's back on a sad dirt ground, palms stabling him as he begins to get up, mikasa walking towards him with the remnants of eren in her hands.

when he reaches for eren's head, it's only then he notices the words that his eyes used to linger back to every few hours are gone.

armin didn't realize when the words on his arm began to faintly glow and bleed because at the same time he was picking pieces of eren up and placing them together to create a firm picture that he wouldn't forget.

pale skin was the only thing left in its path— and when his eyes flit back to eren he sees his soulmate. for the first time he's sure of it.

“paths...” armin mutters to himself as his hand smooths over the cooling skin of eren’s face.

this eren existed in paths where time is nonlinear— speaking armin words for what could have been the first as long as he continued to reside in them. “he said it in paths…” he says shakily, and he winces at his own voice.

time wasn’t linear in such a void, and eren had spoken the short sentence on his wrist into existence long before armin knew.

eren was his soulmate.

his soulmate who he was supposed to see the world with; flaming water, frozen plains, and snowfields of sand.

his soulmate who set him free yet he'd rather be chained to for the rest of his life if it meant he could wake up with him everyday.

his soulmate who he doubted so heavily, transfixed on two words that plagued his whole being.

his soulmate who didn't even know broke his heart, broke their promise.

"you promised."

#eren jaeger #eren yeager #eren aot #armin arlert #armin aot #eren x armin #armin x eren #eremin #eren jaeger x armin arlert #eren yeager x armin arlert #armin arlert x eren jaeger #armin arlert x eren yeager #eren jaeger x armin #eren yeager x armin #armin arlert x eren #eren x armin arlert #attack on titan #aot #erearu #eren angst #eren jaeger angst #armin angst #armin arlert angst

[jalebi-weds-bluetooth]

Arnav, Khushi: Choti Si Duniya

#3 Old Habits

On most days Arnav and Khushi were happily married, with ample amount of laughter, space, sex, healthy banter, mild arguments, partnership and friendship filling their days.

On some days they just took the breath away from the other by simply existing, thrumming in the evergreen Rabba Ve. And on other days they were quiet, with one of their past demons returning to haunt them while the other supported the best they could.

And on the rarest days their arguments would take an ugly turn. It wasn’t a difference of thought, but rather crossing an invisible line of trust. Old habits, which despite maturity and therapy, flared up.

Unfortunately, Arnav crossed it far more than Khushi did.

“You’re forgetting she’s my sister Khushi Kumari Gupta! How could you not tell me she’s dating my manager.”

“She is also my sister Arnav, and Di told me not to tell you-”

“I don’t fucking care-”

“-that’s exactly why she told me not to tell you. And Aman ji is a good man for Di.”

“I don’t care, you still don't know Aman.”

“I’ve known him for six years! And for your kind information, I am a good judge of character Arnav-”

“-no you're not. If you were a good judge then things would've been different.”

“What do you mean by that.”

“Forget it.”

“Don’t forget that with this judgement I chose to marry you.”

“Oh really? With this judgement you brought fucking Shyam back to the house. I told you it was a big mistake but no - you thought he had changed.”

Khushi stormed into their bedroom, packing her clothes for a week. How dare he accuse her for not understanding Shyam! Yes, she had made a colossal mistake regarding him, but bringing it up after five years?

Just because he couldn't handle Di having a boyfriend?

Khushi breathed hard, fought her tears and zipped up her suitcase.

“Khushi, I’m sorry.” Arnav panted, having run up the stairs. His panic grew at the suitcase.

“Then why did you bring that up.”

“I was angry, I didn’t... you know how I am regarding Di.”

“I do Arnav, but that does not excuse you bringing up that up. I would've never brought him to the house if I knew he killed Di’s child.”

“Of course, I know that. It’s just... I shouldn't know about Aman and Di after they’ve started dating.”

Khushi sighed. She understood his overprotectiveness, especially after the Shyam fiasco they were all at edge towards Anjali. Frankly if it had not been for Aman, Khushi would’ve confided in Arnav.

“I get it, but I’m leaving for Bua ji’s for a week... if I didn’t know you, I would've never forgiven you for what you said.”

“Khushi you know I didn’t mean it.”

“And you know that anything related to that man is... has never been my fault.”

“I know Khushi but don’t go.” He held her hand.

“Arnav, I’m not in the state to forgive you for what you said. I want to calm down, take a little break and talk to you about this. So first, go and talk to your sister and please let me go.”

Arnav’s temper ticked. He hated Khushi leaving home. Leaving him.

“Running away from things don’t fix anything.”

“I’m not running away Arnav, I need space.”

“I said I’m sorry.” He yelled.

“And that is not enough!” She matched his pitch, grabbed her suitcase and headed for the door. Except he shut the door on her face and pulled her away.

“You can’t leave,” He warned. Khushi snatched her hand away from his.

“Or else?” She challenged.

“You know what I’m capable of,” His mouth hardened into its cruel, familiar straight line. And Khushi’s heart broke, again.

“Every single fucking time,” Khushi swore and threw her bag to the floor, angry tears rolled down her cheeks. Arnav faltered, his grip on the door loosening.

“Khushi main-” Khushi stopped him and stepped away.

“Enough Arnav. Main kya? You didn’t mean what you said? Didn’t mean to hold my hand hard enough to hurt? Didn’t mean to bring up the past? Didn’t mean to break my heart?” Khushi folded her arms, analyzing his face.

“But it still hurts. And you do nothing to fix it. I wonder, where does this come from?”

“I don’t want you to leave me.” He said.

“I didn’t leave you when things were worse, when you couldn't stand being in the same room as me-” And despite the years, the memories filled Arnav with guilt and Khushi with pain. He looked away, unable to meet her eyes.

“I’m sorry,” His voice had lost its strength, “I wish I could change-”

“Hume uss baat se koi farak nahi padta. I have never asked you for an explanation or your regret. I’ve left these behind. But you haven't. Your habits haven't.” Khushi wiped her tears, struggling to keep her composure.

“You know, let’s talk about this. Because I’ve heard all of this before and we never really addressed how you broke my heart. And the fact that you can say all this despite all the therapy we've been to...”

Arnav sank into the green chaise, head in his hands. Khushi, always having the bigger heart, kneeled by him and grabbed his face. He was crying. Her heart truly broke.

“Talk to me Arnav. Why do you say these things? It’s been so long, and trust me when you shut the door and grab me I still get scared, it still breaks my heart despite everything. It will never be okay-”

Arnav held her hand, whispering his sorries to her.

“And what do you mean by ‘my sister’. Don’t you know how long it took me to make this family my own. Arnav, my world changed overnight. You know this. Tumhara, mera... you make me feel like this is not mine. That this house, this-”

“No Khushi, everything is yours. Yeh ghar, Di, main-” He choked.

“Then why do you work so hard to push me away? I know you're concerned for Di, even I was first worried when I learned she liked Aman ji. But she's happy with him.” Khushi said.

“I can’t... Di was happy with Shyam. I can't see her go through pain again, when I know that I could've prevented it.” Arnav confessed.

“Arnav, things would've hurt irrespective of everything we did. Or maybe because of it. The problem was not that we couldn't protect her, it’s that we took away her choice. Our decision to tell her the truth depended on it our convenience to lie about him.” Arnav agreed.

“And Aman ji is different. You know him for twelve years and if he turns out terrible despite that, then we’ll support Di the best we can and murder him.” Khushi cracked a smile and Arnav chuckled.

“I’m sorry Khushi,” He said, wiping her tear away.

“You should be. I mean, yes, I should've known better about trusting a man who didn't hesitate to kidnap you-” Arnav tsked at her.

“You were barely in your twenties. I shouldn't have brought that up.” He huffed.

“But you did.” She smiled sadly. Arnav stopped himself from saying 'I didn't mean to'. If he didn't, he shouldn't have. So he attempted at pouring his heart, saying things he meant.

He often resorted to pulling people’s mistakes when they made a decision without his input to prove they can't always make the right choice.

“Because I believe I’m the only one who can take the right decisions for everyone...” Arnav scoffed at the irony of his sentence. There were times when he had succeeded but despite his best efforts he did hurt Khushi where it hurt most.

"I always think it’s right to use any means to stop you from leaving me, especially after a fight. Cause I think I’ll fix everything later, as long as you're in front of me.” He confessed.

“Except it fixes nothing. It just... Arnav I feel like I have to cut a part of myself to be with you after such things because I love you, I love you so much that I can’t bear to not love you. Aur aise harkatein ke baad... it gets difficult to love you.” Khushi began to cry.

“It kills me to not be able to love you.” Arnav kissed her forehead, holding her tight in his arms. Her sobs racked against his chest, breaking his heart to two.

“Khushi please don’t... how can I fix this? I feel like any sorry isn't enough.”

“Let’s talk. Like this, always.” Khushi sniffled. Arnav nodded, pressing another kiss to the top of her head.

“And... if I want to leave,” Arnav’s grip tightened, “know that I’m always coming back. Except I just need space to process things.” Khushi broke the hug, and caressed his cheek.

“Ok, I’ll tell Mohan to drive you to Bua ji’s. I won't- can’t, you know I won't be able to leave you there.” Arnav smiled, holding her hand against his cheek.

“I’ll talk to Di about everything and we’ll work on this.” He pointed to themselves. Everything was worth a shot.

“And I will never keep anything from you.” She promised, acknowledging her own mistake.

“Ab jao, otherwise I won’t let you go.” Arnav turned away, dismissing her. Khushi pressed the most loving, forgiving kiss against his cheek and left for Bua ji’s.

---

Aman and Anjali watched Khushi leave for Bua ji’s. She had and bid everyone goodbye - Aarav choosing to stay home, afraid of the cheek pulling at Lakshminagar. But promised to FaceTime his mum at every single minute.

Arnav, had not come down to see her off. Anjali was worried sick. Aman tried to placate her.

“Aman, you have no idea the problems Chote and Khushi faced because of my first marriage. I did not... I always ruin everything. My blind faith nearly destroyed my brother’s happiness and yet again-” Aman placed his finger against Anjali’s lips, shushing her effectively.

“No Anjali. You are not responsible for ASR and Khushi bhabhi’s lives. Your faith in your husband was admirable. If the narrative was different, you would've been lauded for your trust in him. Unfortunately that wasn't the case.” Anjali didn’t agree. Aman grabbed her shoulders and pulled her close.

“Anjali, look at me. Take deep breaths. Ab, listen. Yes, you affect ASR’s life - why wouldn't you, he's your brother, your support, your heart. But whatever happens in his life is a result of his actions. Same applies for Khushi bhabhi. Yes, they might have fought regarding us, but not because of it.”

“But Aman-”

“No buts, if we were to break up - because, of course, ASR affects your life too - would you hate ASR?” This time Anjali grabbed Aman’s shoulders in response to his questions.

“I would never hate my brother Aman Mathur. And no matter how much I love him, I would speak to him but not give up on you like that.” If they were not in  Shantivan, Aman would’ve kissed her senseless on the spot.

“It’s taken me a lot to fall in love, and I’m not going to change that-”

“Then that resolves everything Di.” Aman and Anjali jumped apart on finding Arnav leaning against a wall, a soft smile playing on his lips. These few minutes said a lot about Aman and Anjali’s relationship that he wouldn’t have been able to have assessed without a calm mind.

“Chote.” Anjali nearly ran into her brother’s arms. Arnav hugged her tight, happy and relieved at the same time.

“It’s ok Di. First of all, as Aman said, you’re not responsible for anything. Everything will be fine between Khushi and me. And next time, you can tell your brother everything, I wouldn’t sack Aman for being your boyfriend... even if I’m tempted to.” Anjali pushed him against his shoulder and the siblings grinned.

“Thank you Chote. This means the world to me.” Aman smiled affectionately at the duo.

“There’s nothing to thank me. It is your life. But if Aman hurts you-”

“-then feel free to do anything with him.” Anjali quipped.

“Precisely. Even Khushi is on board with murder.”

“Do you both realize I am here.” Aman cleared his throat.

“Yeah, that saves me the time to separately give the shovel talk. You are truly efficient Aman.” Anjali laughed and headed towards Aman, who was more than happy to receive the threats.

He was officially welcomed to the Raizada's.

---

Madhumati and Garima had long learned what interference could cost in both, Khushi and Payal’s lives. With Shashi’s recovery they realized that if they had let both the daughters take decisions they saw fit, a lot of misunderstandings would've been avoided.

So when Khushi arrived with her bag and a call came from Payal apprising the Guptas of the situation at home, the Guptas needed no answers from Khushi nor were in a hurry to send her to Shantivan.

For this home would always remain as Khushi’s.

Madhumati didn’t prod about the untouched jalebis (although she did have a good mind to use her belan on her beloved damaad), Garima busied herself with her hour long chats with her grandson on the phone and Shashi gave Khushi the space to talk.

Time definitely allowed healing and perspective.

---

It was one of those days when Arnav was restless. Neither tending his plants nor working gave him relief. Perhaps it was because there were three more days for Khushi to come home?

He paced across every square inch of his mansion - the Prakashes and Raizada's knowing well to steer clear from Pacing Singh Raizada.

“Wassup Nannav? Missing Khushi bhabhi? You want me to send her a message? I’m heading there to grab some samosas.” NK grinned, as if he hadn't seen his cousin pining for Khushi in the past four days.

“Nothing.” Arnav gritted. He knew therapy was working. If not, NK would’ve been six feet under. And maybe Lavanya would’ve murdered him for it, but that was a small price to pay.

“Everything’s alright Chote?” Anjali stepped in, slapping NK behind his head.

“Yes Di, I ju-” Arnav stopped. The air sweetened, goosebumps broke and a sudden wind hit him. Oh, it was one of those days.

“Chote-”

“Nannav,”

Arnav ignored them and walked towards the door, nearly running by the end of it.

There was Khushi, in a red salwar kameez, house keys in hand.

They looked at each other as a strong breeze washed over them. A few strands of her hair flew and she softly smiled, before her chin wobbled and a sheen of tears betrayed her joy of coming home.

Oh, the one to cry at the drop of a hat!

Khushi ran up the few steps and nearly jumped into his arms as he engulfed her in his embrace. They remained in the intimate hug, sharing a few discreet kisses and whispered promises, oblivious to the audience.

“Di, how does Nannav always know when Khushi ji’s home?” NK asked.

“Old habits NK bhai, puraani aadatein.” Anjali smiled.

---

A/N: This was the longest CSD one shot! Here's your slice of angst but happily ever after - just let's say I was in one of those moods.

Choti Si Duniya is going to be a series of one shots of Arnav & Khushi’s life post the end of the show. These are going to be snippets inspired by certain gifs. I hope you liked it - do share your views!

#ipkknd #iss pyaar ko kya naam doon #ipkknd ff #fanfiction #arnav #khushi #choti si duniya #angst #hona hi tha

[imaginationintowords]

Folklore [song series]

mirrorball

Modern Day AU! Steve Rogers x OC!Reader

Plot: Inspired by Taylor Swift’s new album folklore. The story follows the timeline of Bucky and Elizabeth’s life throughout the years.

Word count: 2110

[a/n: thanks for being patient with me! hope you guys enjoy this new chapter! if i forgot to tag you please inbox me]

previous part

Series Masterlist

Age: 20

Location: Brooklyn, NY

Year: Summer 2014

Steve flopped down onto his bed, tired after today's events. Elizabeth softly laid down next to him, Steve wrapped his arm around her bringing her closer to his chest.

"Today was a day," he tiredly says.

"You okay?" She asked him.

After Bucky had left there was a sadness aura that followed Steve for the rest of the party. He had no clue what he had expected Bucky's reaction to be, but definitely not the one he got. He had even prepared himself fo a fight, he was grateful that didn't happen. He just wasn't expecting for Bucky to shut down and leave. Not even accepting his offer of having a conversation later.

He knew that Bucky just needed his space, time to think it all over. But the look on Bucky's face had Steve questioning whether or not he would ever come around.

It threw Steve off when Bucky requested that he breakup with Elizabeth. He couldn't believe his best friend would want his own happiness to suffer.

His whole life he had done everything possible to keep Bucky happy. After what Bucky and his family had to go through with his father, Steve made it his mission to never let his friend feel that way again. Granted he was only 7 when he made that promise to himself, he still kept it.

Steve had never put himself first, at least not until he had made the decision to go to school in California. He had even thought about changing his plans after his breakup with Elizabeth but he knew his parents would've been disappointed with that decision.

He had put Bucky first his entire life, what he's doing isn't selfish. Yet he can't help but feel like the most selfish person ever.

What if he was keeping Elizabeth from truly being happy? What if she just didn't want to break his heart? What if she just didn't want to break his heart during a family event? What if come tomorrow she would tell him the truth, that she was really still in love with Bucky.

He's not sure he could handle that heartbreak.

"Want to tell me what's going on in that head of yours?" Elizabeth asked, breaking Steve from his self destructive thoughts.

"I won't be mad if you still love him," Steve says, "I'd understand."

Elizabeth quickly sat up to get a look of Steve's face to make sure he was being serious. It nearly broke her to see how defeated he looked. She's never seen him so down, not even after his breakup with Peggy.

"You don't have to pretend to save my feelings," he continues, "If it meant you were happy, that's all I care about. If being with Bucky makes you happy, then please don't let me stand in the way."

"Oh Steve," she gently caresses his face, staring down at him, "I wasn't lying earlier when I told Bucky that I didn't love him anymore. And i most definitely wasn't lying when I said that I love you, because I do love you, with my whole heart. You make me happy. The happiest I've ever been. Bucky was my past. You are my now, and hopefully my future.

"If you can't see how truly great you are, then I must not be doing my job as not only your girlfriend, but you're friend," she says, "Because you make me feel special every single day. And I just want you to feel the way you've made me feel."

"It's not your fault," Steve softly says, grasping her hand to place a kiss on her knuckles.

"Growing up I've always been second to Bucky," he explains, "Everyone seemed to prefer him over me. Whether it was girls or just our friends. It was always Bucky then Steve."

Elizabeth takes a moment to think back on their time growing up. She couldn't help but feel guilty when she realized that everything Steve is saying is true.

After she and Bucky got together, Steve sort of became an after thought, not because they purposefully excluded him, it never crossed their mind simply because Steve also had Peggy at the time. But after Peggy left, Elizabeth never really got to talk to Steve about how he felt, because she got caught up in her own drama.

"Steve, I'm so sorry," she apologizes, "I should've known then about how you felt. I was so caught up in my own shit, I never realized that you could've been going through your own stuff."

"Liz, it was never your fault," he says, "You were going through your own stuff. And I had learned to suppress it. Plus Bucky was your boyfriend at the time, of course i wasn't really on your mind. Plus it's kind of my fault for allowing it to happen. I never spoke up about it. I just always went along, figuring it was better than nothing."

"Once I got to Berkeley that's when everything changed," his mood shifts a bit to a much lighter feel, "I no longer felt like the shadow of a person. I felt like my own person for the first time ever. I was able to become someone I never thought possible. I am no longer 'scrawny Steve, Bucky's best friend'. I just became 'Steve' or 'Rogers'."

Elizabeth smiled at the way Steve's eyes lit up when talking.

"I had never imagined myself leaving New York, let alone making the permanent move to California," he confesses, "As much as I love it here, California is where I feel I belong. I know you feel it too."

Elizabeth nods her head agreeing with him. She felt the same way, as much as New York was her childhood home, California was where she felt her heart aching for. Where she felt like she belonged, where she could thrive. The more she spent time there, the more it felt like home, that's why moving there wasn't a tough decision for her.

"Coming back here," Steve says, causing Elizabeth to shift back her focus on him, "It just makes me feel like that scrawny kid all over again. I feel like no matter how hard I try to shed that image, Brooklyn will never see me for who I am now, but for who I was then. Like no matter what I do I will always be 'little' Steve Rogers."

"I know you feel it too," he says looking up at her.

She did. She did feel stuck in the past whenever she came back home. It seemed like life stood still here, while outside of Brooklyn everything is moving ahead. She knows it's only because she grew up there, and had nothing to do with Brooklyn itself. Once she was in California, she got a taste of life outside of Brooklyn, and she's not sure if she would want to go back. So moving there was an easier choice for her to make.

"I do," she agrees, "It's why moving to California was an easy decision for me to make."

"I wasn't even sure I was even going to make it to California," he says.

"Why is that?"

"Felt like I was disappointing my parents," he confesses, "We had always discussed me going to Columbia as a pre-med major. That had been the original plan. It wasn't like they were forcing it on me. More like I was forcing it onto myself.

"It was the 'safer' choice, granted the longer one, but in the end it all would've been worth it. For some reason as a child I believed that was the only way my parents would've been proud of me. Regardless of the fact that they were already proud and would tell me constantly. I just put that pressure on myself."

"It wasn't until junior year that Mr. Lawson, my high school art teacher said I should apply to some art schools," he continues, "Then after I had a long discussion with the guidance counselor she agreed as well, saying I would get in no problem with whatever art field I applied in.

"I never really gave my drawing much thought. It was just something I would do. Also a career in art is not exactly financially stable, or at all stable. But I figured it wouldn't hurt to apply to a couple of schools as an architecture major. Never really gave it a second thought."

Steve pauses, "I did get into Columbia."

"Steve, no fucking way," Elizabeth gasp sitting up straighter, "I never even heard."

"That's because I only told my parents," he says, "I got the acceptance email the same day I got NYU's and Berkeley's, where I hadn't applied as pre-med, which my parents didn't know of at the time."

"Wow," Elizabeth responds feeling herself become speechless. She had only known about NYU and Berkeley. She knew about NYU because that was the plan, they, including Bucky had discussed Freshman year. Back when she was still with Bucky, and Steve with Peggy and they all had planned to stay in New York. Before life got complicated.

"When I did get the Berkeley acceptance I had to come clean to my parents about what major I applied under. I was nervous, because a part of me never told them because I was worried I wouldn't get in. So seeing that acceptance it was the assurance I needed. One that really let me know that I could actually do it. And of course my parents were proud."

"Of course," Elizabeth smiles, "They would've been proud if you had decided to not even go to school and just worked in a restaurant."

"That's true," Steve lets out a small laugh, "And I think I more so didn't want to regret the decision. Leaving home to move across the country for a career that could be unstable. It's scary."

"Do you?" Elizabeth asks.

"Do I what?"

"Do you regret it?"

"Not one bit," he smiles, pulling her back down onto his chest.

They laid there in a comfortable silence. Steve ranking his fingers on Elizabeth's arm, feeling himself grow tired.

"I hope you know you're amazing," Elizabeth quietly says looking up at him with pure admiration in her eyes, "That I think you're amazing. I think you're one of the greatest people I have ever known. And if I have to spend my entire life showing you just how amazing I think you are, I will."

Age: 29

Year: 2023

Location: Santa Barbara, CA

Elizabeth giggled as Steve carried her over the threshold into their hotel room for the weekend. He kicked the door closed as he silenced her giggles with a kiss, before placing her on her feet.

"Why thank-you Mr. Rogers."

"You're very welcome Mrs. Rogers," he smiled brightly at his new wife.

Her makeup was slowly fading, hair no longer perfectly done after a night of dancing with their close loved ones. Steve just stares at her lovingly. He ahs never seen her more beautiful and the fact that he gets to be her husband for the rest of his life, he's never felt luckier.

Elizabeth feels his eyes just on her, "What? Do I have something on my face?"

"No, just admiring my beautiful wife," he compliments, causing Elizabeth to blush.

"How about one more dance?" she asks.

"There's no music."

"When I'm with you there's always music," she says holding her hand out for him.

Steve pulled her to him, one hand grasped in her's, while the other lay on her lower back. Elizabeth's head rested on his chest, with Steve's chin softly resting on the top of it.

"You know I think you're amazing," Elizabeth says as they sway softly in each other's arms.

"You might've told me once or twice," he responds.

"Get used to it because I'm going to be telling you that for the rest of our lives."

"Nothing I want more than that," he kisses the top of her head.

"If you'd asked me to runaway with you to join a circus, I would in a heartbeat," she says.

"Oh really? If I lose my job, and having nothing to show for, you'd still be there?"

"Right next to you baby, every step of the way," she says looking up at him, "Plus you won't have nothing to show. You'll have me. You'll have us. With me by your side I'll make sure you never not know how much you mean to me."

"You've made me believe in love again when I thought it wasn't possible. You've made me love myself in a way that I didn't think were possible. You make me a better human being by just being you. I love you Steve, more than anything.

"So if everything were to go to shit, as long as I have you that's all I need. I'll be there reminding you every single day just how special you are to me."

"I love you," Steve smiles as tears fall from his eyes.

#folklore #folklore song series #folklore mirrorball #mirrorball #mirrorball taylor swift #mirrorball song seires #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers x original female character #steve rogers x original character #Steve rogers x OC!female #steve rogers angst #steve rogers fluff #angst #fluff #original character series #Steve rogers modern au #steve rogers modern day

[qwhlz]

Bakugou X Reader

Okay, well, I wrote this a while ago, so I'm posting it as my first post haha. Um. Ok here are the TW so if you're not comfortable please don't read!

Also, please read until the end :D it gets better

I was listening to this so ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ ~

Tw: slight smut, fluff, described violence (mineta yk), coronavirus

"So everyone stays inside, no going to the grocery store, the food will get transported every week. The school will be off until health is guaranteed. Understood?" Aizawa sternly announced over Iida's phone as everyone in the UA 1A dorms stood around it, in the common area.

There had been a deadly virus spread, and they called it Covid 19, or Corona.

No one really understood how the fuck this virus started, more so why the most infected was Asia, but they understood the rules they were given.

"Yes sensei. Thank you for telling us. Have a good night." Iida answered as he hung up. It was currently around 7 PM, so most of the students were in either PJ's or workout clothes (khm Kiri).

"What the fuck?!" Bakugou yelled as he rubbed his eye. He was about to go to bed, actually, so this was pretty annoying. I mean, they're under literal house arrest. How the fuck are heroes supposed to act?

"Well, everyone heard Aizawa sensei. You can keep doing whatever you were doing, just no going outside. As long as we're inside, everyone will be okay." Iida said as he quickly bowed to everyone, leaving to go to his room.

"Sounds kind of made up, don't you think?" Denki said as he fell on the couch, his head falling on Sero's lap.

"Kind of," Mina said as she sat down next to him, putting his sprawled out feet on her lap.

"Everyone inside at all times. Girls. This is heaven." Mineta mumbled as he drooled next to the table in between the two couches, before getting a kick to the face that sent him flying to the other side of the room.

"Shut the fuck up you perverted asswipe," Y/n said as she sat down next to Mina, resting the back of her head on her shoulder as she opened her phone, going on social media to check if this virus is actually real. Which, if it was, concerned her a lot. The crimes are definitely gonna go up and isn't this the perfect opportunity for the LOV to attack, AGAIN?

"Thanks, babes." Mina said as she pat Y/n head, earning a tiny smile.

"Yup, it's real. Twitter is swarming with it." Y/n added, answering Denki's earlier question. By now, everyone was either on the couches or the floor in front of the couches.

"Damn, lemme see," Denki answered as he put his arm out, palm open as he quickly made a grabbing motion.

Y/n went to hand it to him, but it got snatched away by the angry blonde she always kind of adored. He was mean, but have you seen him blush? It was the cutest thing in the world.

He scanned the phone as he scrolled down, reading a load of media bullshit before his eyes widened, groaning. He threw the phone back at Y/n, which ended up hitting her flat on the face. "Ow." She said bored as she scanned her phone, seeing a random, and obviously photoshopped, Kamui woods nude. She laughed as she showed the poorly edited picture to Mina, who also laughed.

"What the fucks wrong with you," Bakugou mumbled as he rubbed his eyes with his thumb and index finger.

Y/n shrugged as she hid the photo, before handing the phone to Denki like she originally planned. He read over the news, sighing as he handed her back the phone with a black phone case on it.

"How stupid," Denki added as he snugged his head into Sero's lap.

"Whatever. Im gonna go to my room. Goodnight to all the bad bitches and Mineta. No, actually, fuck you, Mineta." Y/n said as she stood up, Kissing Mina's cheek.

People mumbled goodnight as she walked to the elevator, feeling the sensation of being followed. She glanced behind her, seeing the angry blonde as she smirked to herself, before regaining her composure. She favored him more than Mina, which was pretty weird.

"Sleepy?" She asked with a smirk as the two of them walked into the elevator, both with their hands deep into their pockets. She pulled one hand out, clicking the number for the 4th floor. They had actually gotten much closer ever since the summer training camp incident. Bakugou actually had a lot of PTSD and nightmares, resulting in serious panic attacks in the middle of the night, as well as the middle of the day, and since he knew Y/n used to go through it too, he somehow got forced to tell her. Y/n was glad he did because he was able to text or call her whenever he had one of them, making her always be there to help. She never asked for anything in return, which Bakugou found weird. He wondered why, anyone really, would want to help him without asking for something in return. He was also really weirded out by the fact that she was awake at 5 AM every other night.

"Tch, shut up. At least I sleep." He answered as he leaned on the glass wall of the elevator. The glass was clear, but thick, for safety and family-friendly reasons.

"Oh shut up. It's not my fault I have insomnia." She averted her eyes as he furrowed her brows a bit. She had insomnia ever since Bakugou got kidnapped. She had actually really liked his personality, meaning she liked him. Not in a romantic way though. (Yet)

Once she saw him get taken before her eyes, it was the only thing she saw when she fell asleep, as well as worst-case scenarios. So, she gave up on trying to sleep. Once he was safely returned, she expected everything to go back to normal, but it didn't. She even tried taking melatonin, but it didn't help. So, over time, she developed small purple eye bags. Nothing too serious, but everyone knew she had insomnia. And why. Except for Bakugou. She asked everyone nicely (which wasn't her best trait) not to tell him, so he doesn't feel guilty. Even though he would deny it, she knew he would feel that way at one point.

The elevator let out a ding as the doors opened, letting them exit as they both went the same direction. Since Y/n wasn't allowed to live in the dorms at first, and most of the rooms were taken, they put her on the boys side, the fourth floor, far far away from Mineta. Y/n was actually caught beating the shit out of him 2 times behind the school. Well, she did it more than 2 times. That was only when they caught her. To be frank, Mineta annoyed and frustrated her to no ends, and the fact that he didn't even bother stopping after being beaten up multiple times, says something. Yes, that was a bit violent, but sexual harassment was not a joke. At least not to her. She would've been suspended, but then they'd have to suspend Mineta as well, which wasn't their top priority. Not that he favored him or anything, and by he I mean Aizawa, he actually hated the little shit, but he couldn't admit that to anyone. Mineta was still a student.

She opened her door as Bakugou took a couple more steps, opening the door right next to hers. "Good night B. Call me if anything happens, okay?" She asked seriously as she smiled at him.

"Tch." Bakugou retorted as he nodded his head, barely, but she noticed as she smiled before going in.

Bakugou was really grateful for Y/n. Not that he'd even admit it to, even himself, but he actually was. She was one of the blunter and mean people in the class, except for those she liked, so he felt like someone actually cared. Everyone else was way too nice. And, to be real, he actually admired that. She always told the truth, no matter how harsh it was, but if it was to someone she liked, her words were more gentle. She wasn't a person to lie to either. Every time, anyone really, lied to her, she knew. It was like an instinct. She was really special. To think someone random he met would comfort him and try more than his own mother is unimaginable. She never lost her temper around him, and if she did, she would smile as leave for a minute to cool off. The scary thing about her was, she knows how to control her emotions. She knows exactly what to say every time. She knows self-control better than anyone.

Bakugou sighed as he stepped into his room, taking his shirt off as he went to his closet, taking out towels, pajamas, and his toothbrush and toothpaste. Bakugou liked to go to sleep early since he was disciplined, but he also liked to hope that would make his nightmares go away. He hated his PTSD. It was his worst enemy. Worse than any villain. He felt like he was weak. Not his body, but his mind. Like he was too weak to take one traumatic experience, when people had many.

Y/n set her phone on her bed as she took her pajamas and towels, as well as her hygiene stuff. Her room was pretty clean, some random clothes were thrown around, but the rest was pretty nice. Her bed had pretty, white sheets, some faint stains on them, and it was in the corner of her room. Next to that was a balcony, and then her closet. The rest of it was just random decorations and paintings she made and liked.

She left her room at the same time as Bakugou as she looked at him, smiling before waiting for him so they walk to the showers together. He rolled his eyes playfully as he tried his best not to smile. "Wanna shower together?" She said as she winked at the slightly taller boy, whose face erupted into a blushing ness at her comment making her chuckle. "Shut the fuck up." Bakugou mumbled as they stepped into the elevator, which was surprisingly still there, clicking on the first-floor button.

"If that pervert tries anything, tell me." He said as he tried to start a conversation, barely think about his words.

"Pft, why? I beat him up multiple times. At this point, I know all his weak spots and how not to leave marks." She smirked as she nudged Bakugou's shoulder with her elbow, before resting her head on it. "But thank you for worrying. I appreciate it." She said as she softly smiled. The elevator seemed to move slower as Bakugou's heartbeat increased. Every time they made physical contact, he'd get flustered. It kind of made him annoyed that his body could give in so easily.

"Do you want me to sleep in your dorm tonight?" She asked as she glanced up at him, still leaning on his bare shoulder.

Bakugou shook his head no, as the doors opened, causing her to pull herself away from him and walk out together.

Y/n and Bakugou were known as best friends around the class. Even Aizawa knew it. He also knew about Bakugou's nightmares, hence he let Y/n sleepover in Bakugou's room anytime she wants. Aizawa, as well as the rest of the class, knew that she was the only one able to calm him down in said situations. Some girls were jealous since Bakugou had a soft spot for her, but she never used that to her advantage.

Y/n waved, wiggling her fingers as they went separate ways, each into the bathroom of their gender.

Y/n set her stuff down as she stepped into a shower, turning on the water as she did her hygiene, as well as washing her body and hair. Once she was done, she put her PJ's on and brushed her teeth after.

Y/n turned her body as she went to leave the bathroom, but her knee hit something. Y/n looked down, spotting the familiar purple sex offender in front of her, smirking with only underwear on.

Y/n groaned as she tilted her head back, rolling her eyes.

"Hey, sexy." He said with a lisp as he walked into the girl's bathroom, closing the door.

Y/n looked at him, already knowing what he was going to fail at trying, so she played along. Y/n smirked as she leaned over, locking the door behind him, before going back, crouching down to his height. She was still smirking, which somehow only made Mineta horny, instead of alarmed.

"Okay. I guess I was playing hard to get. Come here." She smiled as she stood up, walking further away from the door. Mineta's eyes widened as he jogged up to her, placing his hands on her hips. It took every muscle in her body not to puke, but she managed to keep calm.

"But I'm more into tying." She said as she took one of the towels the girls used to clean the floors, putting it around the gremlin's eyes. He was smirking hard as Y/n noticed a tiny thing sticking out of his pants.

"Oh, you naughty girl." He said as he allowed her to tie him up completely, hands and ankles involved.

After she was done, Y/n stood up, chuckling.

"Did you really think I was going to fuck you?" She laughed as she picked him up by the hem of his shirt easily, walking over to the door, ignoring his voice filled with confusion.

"This is the last time I beat you up. If there's a next time, you won't make it out alive. I don't care if Im suspended or expelled for committing murder, as long as you're dead." She said slyly in his ear as she slammed his face into the tiles on the wall, earning a cry and groan from him. She actually held back a lot. She could've broken his skull with that hit, but she held back. His nose wasn't even

broken.

"Y/n? What the fuck was that? Are you okay?" Bakugous voice asked roughly from the other side as the doorknob jiggled. Y/n was still smirking as she scanned Mineta's bloody nose. She unlocked the door as she looked at Bakugou with an innocent smile. "I'm okay. He just tried to do something with me, that's all." She said as she stepped out to see a very angry Bakugou glaring at Mineta in Y/n's hand.

Bakugou went to jump on him, and probably kill him, but Y/n put a hand on his chest, gently pushing him back as she kissed his cheek. "It's okay now. You can go to bed." She smiled as she left, entering the common room, earning a few confused looks from students that were still in there.

"Uh, Y/n. What are you doing?" Denki asked as he scanned the bloody and tied up Mineta, furrowing his brows as Mina laughed next to him.

"Oh, nothing, just my usual nightly activities. Sero, could you help me?" She asked as she smiled at Sero who looked at her concerned.

"Uh, sure? What's up?" He asked as he stood up, walking over to her, ignoring Mineta's yells. "Just some tape. Thank you." She said as she smiled at him. Sero reluctantly shot some tape out, ripping it as he handed it to her, earning a kiss on the cheek.

Y/n walked up to in front of the common room TV as she took a chair, ignoring everyone's stares as she taped Mineta up to the wall above the TV. "If anyone takes him down before the morning you come to talk to me okay?" She said as she looked at everyone who nodded, before she smiled, bowing. "Thank you." She said as she left the common room, taking Bakugou's hand as they walked back to the elevator. Bakugou's hair was damp, the ends of his spikes tilting downwards as she smiled, ruffling his hair.

"What did he do?" Bakugou asked, almost in a growl as she cracked his knuckles. Y/n put her hands over Bakugou's, stopping the cracking. "Don't crack your fingers. It's bad for your joints." She said as they went into the elevator.

* * *

It was around 3:26 AM, and Y/n was in her dorm, eating ice cream and watching TikTok. She chuckled at a random video as she scrolled, eating a spoonful of chocolate ice cream. As she went to take another bite, she heard two knocks on the wall behind her head. Her head shot up as she set her phone down, carrying her pint of ice cream as she quietly left her room, opening Bakugou's door as she went inside, locking it behind her.

In front of her, on his bed, was the same scene she had been seeing almost every night. Bakugou, red puffy eyes, and cheeks, sitting leaned onto the wall, on the other side of which was Y/n's bed, with his arms hugging his knees.

Y/n sighed as she took the spoon out of her mouth, walking over to Bakugou as she set the ice cream next to her, cupping his cheeks as she made him look into her eyes.

"It's okay my love. It's okay." She whispered as she pushed his knees down, straightening them as she sat on his upper thighs, hugging him tightly. Y/n started calling him the nickname a while ago, so it wasn't weird to either of them. He actually found it very comforting. And she was just happy to be able to help and connect. Well, maybe she needed some reassuring as well.

Bakugou squeezed her tight with his arms wrapped around her waist, intertwining with each other. He sobbed into her shoulder as he shook, making the girl sigh. She hated that he had to go through this, but it had gotten better. He used to have nightmares even when napping but after some reassurance from Y/n, it had gotten better. Y/n's goal was to just get him to feel good again. No nightmares. He refused to go to therapy, so Y/n started researching and going to a therapist herself to learn how to help him. It wasn't the best, but she tried.

"I know. Focus on my breathing okay? On my heartbeat." She mumbled as she started balancing her breathing, hoping he'd follow along, which he thankfully did. Bakugou inhaled, shaking, as he tried to follow her breathing, trying his best. Since Y/n and Bakugou were room to room, they both put their beds on the same side of the wall connecting them and using a knocking technique to decipher. 1 knock meant a flashback. 2 knocks were a nightmare. And 3 knocks was a full-on panic attack. Bakugou rarely ever used three knocks, even though he had panic attacks more than nightmares, but he wanted not to be seen as weak. He thought that she had already seen him in such a weak state, she didn't need to think he was even more of a crybaby.

Once Bakugou managed to calm down a bit, she pulled back, still hugging him as she put her forehead on his. She looked into his piercing red eyes as she blinked slowly, smiling at him. Bakugou's view went to her lips for a second, before quickly returning back to her eyes. Y/n smiled surprised. He had done that a couple of times, but she always ignored it, thinking he just didn't want eye contact. But, this time, he started leaning in slowly. At first, she didn't notice it, but when she did, she looked at his eyes. He looked back as he blinked a couple of times, finally closing the gap as he kissed her gently. It wasn't a french kiss or anything. More like a long peck. Both of their eyes closed as they kissed before Bakugou pulled back. Y/n chuckled as she raised her hand, putting it in his hair. "Didn't think you had the balls for that." She whispered as she smiled at him. His brows furrowed as he made a tch noise before kissing her again, this time a bit more passionately.

Y/n kissed back as she smiled into the kiss. She had never thought he'd do this, and she could bet her life he'd regret it in the morning. This is just the heat of the moment, and she was sad that was all it was, but she had made peace with the fact that the only label Bakugou wanted, was the #1 hero. Not a boyfriend.

Y/n felt a warm sensation on her bottom lip as her eyes shot open, looking at Bakugou's closed ones. She felt a gentle tug on her hair as she opened her mouth slightly to protest, but he had already put his tongue in her mouth, twirling it around hers. Y/n blinked a couple of times before he pulled back, licking his lips after. "Do you have chocolate?" He asked as he looked at her confused.

Y/n rolled her eyes as she moved off of him, taking the pint of ice cream with a single spoon, setting it next to her as she sat to the right of him.

Bakugou's arms extended as he grabbed her hips, pulling her back onto his lap as she yelped quietly. He smirked at the small blush he could see in the moonlight as she rolled her eyes and picking the food up, taking a spoonful and putting it up to his mouth. Bakugou's mouth opened as he took the ice cream. Y/n went to have a spoon herself, but a hand snaked up to the nape of her neck as his arm pushed her lips back onto his, transferring some of the ice cream into her mouth with his tongue. Y/n's eyes widened as she pulled back, swallowing the ice cream and licking her lips as looked at him with a grimace. "Ew, you're disgusting!" She said as she chuckled, wiping her lips with the back of her hand.

Bakugou chuckled as well as he licked his lips, swallowing the treat in his mouth. "More." He said as he opened his mouth, motioning to the ice cream.

Y/n rolled her eyes as she took another spoon, putting it in his mouth as she moved her hips a bit to make herself comfortable, shifting her feet as well. Bakugou's eyes widened as he blinked, grabbing her hips roughly. "Don't. Move." He said as she furrowed her brows, before feeling something poke her from underneath. Her eyes widened as well as she looked down, before looking at Bakugou again, who aggressively swallowed whatever was left, groaning as he put his head in the crook of her neck. "This is all your fault." He mumbled into her shoulder as she blushed hard.

She did NOT expect that at all. She just wanted to comfort him at 4 am without thinking about getting railed, but here we are.

"So what the fuck do I do now." She whispered as she blushed even deeper, staring at the wall in front of her. This wasn't uncomfortable or anything, but it was quite awkward. She might have been a virgin, but she knew stuff. And she knew boners don't leave on their own.

"Ugh. Fuck." Bakugou groaned as he dug his head deeper into her neck. He was embarrassed, yes, but the thing that annoyed him was how he already knew what he wanted her to do. He could picture the whole scenario in his head, making him even harder. He really just hated himself right then.

"Um. So. I guess we're stuck." She said as she felt an itch on her inner thigh. "Oh no." She whispered as her eyes fell. How was she gonna explain this one.

"What." Bakugou mumbled as his voice was muffled from her hoodie. It was pure agony. But, he'd rather this happen with her than anyone else.

"Um. My thigh itches. Like...bad." She said as she gripped onto his shirt from the mix of horniness and itches. It was almost getting painful, so before Bakugou could answer, she moved her hips back and forth a couple of times as she felt his member poke harder. A small smirk made its way to her lips as she heard Bakugou's low groans. She knew exactly what she was doing, and she felt like she was in charge.

"Stop. Ugh, stop moving." He managed to groan out as he squeezed her hips tighter, resulting in a  low moan from her. Both of their eyes widened as she blushed again, and Bakugou got even harder.

"Can. Can I just like. Ugh, it feels annoying saying it." She said as she put her head on top of his, wanting to disappear.

"Then. Ngh. Then just do it." He said as quickly as he could before she took a deep breath.

"Don't hate me in the morning." She whispered as she closed her eyes starting to slowly sway her hips back and forth. The thin biker shorts she was wearing were starting to get wet from her already soaked underwear, and he could feel it. Low groans escaped him as his breathing deepened. He never thought this would happen after a fucking panic attack, especially not in the middle of the night, but never say never I guess.

Only one thing was on Y/n's mind as she swayed a bit faster with every move. That was, how did I even get here? She never even wanted to lose her virginity in high school, and even though this technically wasn't it, she was sure this wasn't the only time it would happen. Whimpers left her slightly open mouth as she gripped her arms around his neck, the small sounds turning Bakugou even more as his brain just said 'fuck it'.

Bakugou swiftly turned the tables as Y/n was now kissing him, still in his lap, but pushed down a bit more. Her eyes widened slightly as she finally saw his red, sparkly eyes again. They were red from crying earlier and half-lidded, making him look even more attractive. He broke the kiss as his hand traveled up, behind her head, on the back of her neck as he hugged her again, stopping her movements.

She was confused. Was she doing anything wrong? Was he done? Is this what it's like? One way or another, she felt small kisses on her collar bone as her eyes were closed. Small bites and sucks were what Bakugou did to her collarbone, leaving tiny red hickeys. Once she realized what he was doing, she smiled as she pulled his head up. She smiled before kissing him as he stood up without warning, setting her on his bed next to him in a cuddling position. They were still facing each other as his hand was cupping her face as he looked her deep in the eye. "Go to sleep, my love." He mocked tiredly as he closed his eyes with a tiny grin, earning one from her.

"Fuck off." She mumbled as she rolled her eyes, placing her forehead on his. She hadnt expected any if this, but she was glad it happened. And, sure enough, she fell asleep. The funny thing is, Bakugou didn't have any other attacks that night.

#bakugou katsuki #mha bakugou #my hero academia #anime #boku no hero academia #bnha #bnha kirishima #mina ashido #Spotify

[jjmaybanksblog]

Falling For U- John B

Request: hi! Can u do an imagine based on Falling for U by Peachy! And Mxmtoon with prompts 8, 10, and 19? Tysm!!!

Summary: based on Falling For U by Peachy! And Mxmtoon

Word count: 2,371

Prompts:

8. "You make me feel safe."

10. "You've always felt like home."

19. "I just want this. I want you."

I was hangin' with you and then I realized. I didn't think it was true, I was surprised, when I found out I've fallen for you.

John B had invited you over for a private surf lesson after you had told him you've never been. You had just moved to the Outer Banks last year, only recently meeting the Pogue and the rest of his friends. From the moment you met him you were drawn to him. Not for his attractive looks, but for his personality.

You had just met him, but he was always right by your side and ready to help you out through anything you were going through. He had a heart of gold and you adored the boy for that.

You first practiced your movements in the sand, rowing your arms front and back as if you were paddling to a wave. "And… jump up!" John B instructed. He stood by the side of the board, ready to catch you if you slipped. You lifted yourself up and jumped into position, John B's hand holding yours to help you catch your balance.

"Nicely done Y/L/N. Now let's see if you can actually do it in the water." JB led you to the waves, guiding you on how far to go out. He scanned the waves trying to find one for you. He pointed his index finger to an incoming wave as it slowly began to rise, you looked at him with a look of fear."You got this. I'll be right here to help you out." He reassured you. 

You exhaled, "if I drown it's your fault." He sent you a sly grin before saying, "don't worry I know CPR." You jokingly rolled your eyes while ignoring the butterflies you got in your stomach. You faced the wave as you paddled towards it, a tint of pink covered your cheeks as John B whooped and cheered from behind you. "And… jump!" You immediately popped up into position, almost surfing the whole wave before falling into the water.

You popped your head back above water to John B paddling towards you with your board next to him. "You okay?" He asked, pulling you back up onto your board. You wiped the water off of your face before nodding, getting ready to paddle again to a slightly larger wave. "Y/n/n you don't have to surf today, this was just supposed to be a practice." He reminded you. You were absolutely determined to get this. "I got this." You winked at him before paddling to the wave.

JB let you take this one, watching you jump up into position in time. "Holy shit, holy shit, holy shit!" You laughed as you skimmed through the wave. John B applauded you as the wave died down revealing pure shock on your face. "And the Pogue princess has done it ladies and gentlemen!" He yelled into his cupped hands as you made it to shore. 

You waited for him to get to you before jumping into his arms. You wrapped yours around his neck as he held you by the waist, spinning you around in glee. "You fucking did it! Holy shit!" He grinned as he put you down. You jumped up and down in excitement. "I know! JJ better watch his back I'm coming up to him." You mumbled, earning a chuckle from him.

"I believe this calls for a celebratory drink." JB held his hand out for you to grab, you gave him a weary look. His glance dropped to his extended hand, his fingers slightly wiggling. You giggled quietly before intertwining your hands together. This time the butterflies were stronger than ever. You slowly pieced together that you were developing feelings for your best friend, which you were not ready to admit. 

I didn't wanna believe my feelings for you. I didn't wanna believe that I could lose you if I told you just how I felt.

"I'm really scared Kie." You admitted, clutching onto one of her pillows on her bed. She sat in front of you and held both of your shoulders, "don't be Y/N! John B won't be phased if he finds out you like him. Plus even if he knows that's not gonna change anything." "That's not what JJ told me." Kie furrowed her eyebrows at you before remembering past events.

JJ told you about the time John B dated a close friend of 5 years for a while but once they broke up they never spoke again. You refused to tell John B how you felt because you were terrified of rejection. You were terrified of him not feeling the same way, or pitying you for not feeling the same way. Then things become awkward and the whole friendship is ruined.

"That was years ago! He's matured a lot now and from the way he looks at you I'm guessing he feels the same as you." You buried your face into the pillow and groaned into the cushion. "Don't do that. Don't give me that." You sighed, clutching onto the pillow. "Don't give you what?" She asked. "Don't give me hope." Kie reassuringly rubbed your back, "It'll all fall into place soon hun, just try to give it time."

♡

"Dude when you see her your face turns pink. You're all like, "oh Y/N! Let me show you what true love is!" JJ exaggerated, putting his hand on his forehead before dramatically flipping his hair. "Shut up man." John B grumbled from behind the steering wheel.

"Honestly dude I don't know what's got you so afraid. Just tell her and don't be a pussy." JJ said to him. "Okay well what if I tell her and she's like, 'what the fuck I just became friends with this dude.' And she like, never talks to me again. What happens then?" 

JJ rolled his eyes at his over dramatic friend, "JB I love you, you know this but either man up and tell her or watch her fall in love with someone else. Your choice man." John B slouched in his seat, realizing his friend had a point. 

But I can't help it, I'm falling for you. And I can't quit it 'cause I'm stuck on you. 

John B covered your eyes with his hands as he led you into the backyard. Today was your birthday and while the rest of the Pogues took you out for dinner, John b stayed at his house to set up his backyard with festive lights and decorations. He remembered the first time you met him, you had gone on and on about how you wanted to go to a paper lantern festival. Since there were none at the time, he managed to find a lantern to give to you. He had set up the hammocks with a soft blanket and comfortable pillows. He saved up to buy cute fairy lights girls used to decorate their rooms. 

"And… surprise!" JB uncovered your eyes and watched your face contort into pure joy. "John B…" you trailed off, getting teary eyed. "Is it too cliche? Damn it I shouldn't have listened to Kie." He muttered under his breath. You quickly turned to him and hugged him, shaking your head. "No, no it's beautiful." He held you in his arms before excusing himself.

He walked inside and returned with the lantern, a lighter, and a sharpie. You covered your mouth with your hands, watching him walk up to you with a dorky smile. "I know this isn't a festival, but it's the closest thing I could find." He handed you the marker allowing you to write whatever you want. This was your chance to slowly start to tell him how you feel.

 You effortlessly wrote, 'JB+(your first and last initials)' you looked back up to him to see his smile even wider than before. "Is this okay?" He nodded his head, "it's perfect."  He held the other side of the lantern as you lit the bottom. "One, two, three." You two sent it off into the air, watching it slowly rise into the night sky.

John B wrapped his arms around your frame, resting his chin on your shoulder as you watched the lantern float above them. Your heart felt like it skipped beats constantly whenever he was near you. You got butterflies in your stomach whenever your name left his mouth. Everything you did with him just felt comfortable and safe.

And it might be pathetic and you might be skeptical but I just want to be with you.

You unknowingly cuddled yourself into John B's chest. You two were laying on the couch, you were fast asleep in his arms. He couldn't help but admire you as you slept. How your eyelashes just looked naturally long when they were shut. How every now and then your nose would twitch. Your eyes would sometimes flutter when you dreamed. Today was a day where you had a dream about John B.

He furrowed his eyebrows as a quiet, "John B." and a giggle escaped your lips. You were dreaming about you two traveling the world together after finding the gold. He took you everywhere you wanted to see, always looking at you when you were looking at the view. 

John B didn't move for a minute, afraid that he would wake you. He watched as your nose twitched nestling your head onto his chest. He held you in his arms, his thumb gently rubbing up and down on your arm. Hesitating for a moment, he tipped his head down and kissed your forehead. He couldn't hold his smile back as you grinned at the feeling. Your mind was telling you that happened in the dream, but in reality John B was slowly realizing just how strong his feelings are for you.

Please tell me, boy can you get a clue? Or come through 'cause I just want to be with you.

"No, JJ you don't get it. I try to give him a hint that I like him but it just flies over his head." You vented, hitting your head on the steering wheel. JJ lifted your head up off the wheel and against the headrest. "Y/N, John B is the most oblivious person all of us know. If you want to tell him you like him, you have to just say it." He emphasized the 'have'. 

You groaned and turned your head to him. "Can't you just do it for me?" You covered your face. "Sorry buttercup, it's better if it comes from you. I'll help keep Kie and Pope away from you guys but you have to be the one to tell him." You exhaled loudly, nodding your head.

I'm scared of telling you how I feel. Maybe it's better if I just try to conceal the truth. For me and for you. But I'm still stuck on you. I'm still falling for you, for you.

You paced in your room, waiting for John B to arrive at your house. Tonight was the night you were gonna admit how you felt about him. You stopped in your tracks as you heard a delicate tapping outside your window. Unlatching the lock, you let him step through the opening before closing it again.

He stood there as you paced back and forth again, making him sit down on the edge of the house bed. "Okay. Okay so, I have to say something and I just need you to wait until I'm done before you say anything." You instructed him, earning a nod as a response.

"I like you. I like you a lot and it genuinely scares me. To the point where I went to JJ for advice because I couldn't figure out what to do. I was scared because my brain just tells me there's no possible way you would like me back. That if I told you how I felt you would think it's weird or you would look at me differently and I don't want that, I don't want things to change in a bad way. But I wanted to say this because you just, you make me feel safe. You make me feel like I'm worth it. You give me these butterflies that leave the hair on my body standing up. I'm always with you because you've always felt like home. I could be skydiving with no parachute but I wouldn't care because as long as I'm with you, I'm happy. Okay, now I'm just rambling but that's it." 

You stopped panting, biting your nails as John B sat there trying to process everything you said. He had a dumb smile on his face as he looked up at you. "What? What? Was that too much? Did I just mess everything between us up?" You panicked.

He stood up from his spot and walked towards you. You couldn't help but feel small and vulnerable as you slowly backed away from him. He cornered you against the wall, his breath fanning your lips. "You like me?" He quietly whispered, trying to make sure he heard that right before he made the next move.

"I really do." You mumbled, your chest heaving from your heart rate picking up. His hand raised up and cupped the side of your face. He watched as your eyes fluttered shut, melting into his touch. "I won't do anything until you tell me it's okay." 

You opened your eyes to look at his brown ones. "Kiss me." You reassured him. He dipped his head down and connected your lips to his. He exhaled in relief as he was finally able to kiss you. Something he's been wanting to do for a while now. Now he was the one with butterflies. The pad of his thumb rubbed your cheek bone as you pulled away from him. "Do you want this?" You asked, pointing your finger between you two

"I'm falling for you, I've been falling for you. I just want this. I want you." He whispered, pushing a stray piece of hair out of your face. Your face turned a light pink as he pressed a kiss to your forehead.

#john b #john b imagine #john b routledge #john b obx #john booker routledge #john b x y/n #john b smut #john b x sarah #chase stokes x reader #chase stokes #jj maybank x you #jj maybank x y/n #jj maybank x reader #jj maybank fanfiction #jj maybank imagine #jj maybank #obx jj #jj x y/n #rafe cameron x y/n #rafe cameron x you #rafe obx #rafe outer banks #rafe cameron #rudy obx #rudy pankow #rudy pankow imagine #rudy pankow x reader #rudy x reader #drew starkey x y/n #drew starkey x reader

[moonlight-drawn-by-dawn]

The Hunter’s Maiden Part 1/ Sneak Peek

I hope this is the right vibes for a fairy tale au, not sure so I’m feeling it out for now. I’m posting this to ao3 when I complete it tho. 

Hope you enjoy!!!

~~~

Once upon a time, in a small village within a far-off kingdom, there lived a poor blacksmith who wanted for nothing other than his wife and work. He was a man of simple needs, a hard worker who wanted nothing more than to have a happy life. He was well-liked in his village, many helping him in his time of need.

The poor blacksmith always meant well in his heart, but he was far from a wise man.

There came a day when his wife gave the good news of being with child, his poor heart only erupting in happiness. For days on end, he did nothing more than prepare for his child's birth. His wife had odd cravings, but it was the child who wanted it so. It was often a difficult task for the poor blacksmith to gather the food. But, seeing his wife's pretty smile was worth it in the end.

It was one particular day when she yearned for a meal most odd, lilac soup.

Now, there was lilac cake and lilac tea, but none ever heard of lilac soup.

The flower itself was a rarity to find in recent years, for only one held a garden guarding all the lovely flowers in their walls.

There lived a royal Queen in her wretched castle. The only beauty it held was her garden. Her lilacs were envied by foreign kingdoms, but her luck was not.

Truth be told, she was more than a mere Queen of unfortunate findings, but a witch who cared for none of her people. Her bitter heart caused much despair in the poor village. All she had within her walls was her handsome son and garden.

All knew of her wrath. Her castle was often empty for the fear of her people was grand.

The poor blacksmith put on a banner of courage going before the evil Queen, humbly asking for just one petal of the flower to satisfy his wife.

"I am nothing but a poor blacksmith, dear Queen. I ask for nothing more in my life beyond work and a happy family. My wife is with child and asks for nothing more than some lilac soup. I come here to ask but for a mere petal. To see the pretty smile of my wife and the happy child in her womb. If it so pleased you, your Majesty, to help your servant in this time of need."

His head bowed down before the snide smirk of the Evil Queen, sitting on her lonely throne idly watching the empty halls made of gold and marble.

In cruel glee, she was ready to decline his small request but was stopped by a vision before her. The witch had many powers, foreseeing the future was one of them.

What she saw, she would not disclose. But, it would be foolish if she allowed this opportunity to squander.

"Here, here, dear blacksmith, I will honor your request. Your care for your wife is admirable, and you will have a long life with her. For my kind deed, you must pay the price."

"Of course, my fair Queen. Anything you ask, I shall give as a token of my gratitude."

"Very well. Your beloved child shall be my reward." Amusement crossed the Queen's features seeing the poor blacksmith turn pale. "If it is a boy, he shall become the Prince's servant, aiding him in his hunting escapades and serving him till the day he dies. If it is a girl, however, she shall become the Prince's betrothed and marry him on the eve of her eighteenth birthday."

Barely any servants of her own who were not old. Her son needed someone to be his loyal servant. He learned to do much on his own, but it was not right for a Prince to not have any servants.

Being a loathed royal no neighboring kingdoms wanted to have a union with her, and she would not allow her son to be alone. So be it that it would be a lowly blacksmith's daughter (if it was indeed a girl), all that mattered was her son had an heir, and he was satisfied with his wife.

A sickly pale color, the poor blacksmith only now realized the weight of his request. He unwittingly sold his child for his wife's momentary happiness. With no other choice, he bowed and agreed to the evil Queen's demand. It was already set, the doom of his child.

He took the lilac, disdain filling his heart for the first time. It was not his wife's fault. He should've known better than to ask the Queen for anything.

He made the soup for his wife, and it was a delicious soup. Watching the joy in her eyes, he lacked the heart to reveal to her the plans the Queen had in store. This burden he carried on his own until his child's birth, uttering prayers for the child to be a boy.

The blacksmith heard stories about the Prince, and none were good. At least as a boy, the child would only be tied to the Prince on a professional level.

The mild burden soon turned into fear, and the fear turned into nightmares.

When it was time for the child's entrance into the wretched world, the blacksmith only bit his fingers in worry, a dark pit telling him the worse will come true.

It was true. The dark reality hit the poor blacksmith hard, seeing the pretty lilac hair on the babe's head.

His wife struggled to breathe, the midwife screaming this might be her time to go. The blacksmith held tightly to his child, tears blurring the view of his beloved wife. Sweat rolled down his wife's happy face, her feeble hands out to hold her child.

A rueful smile was on her face, kissing her pretty babe's face.

"May your life be full of love and joy, and you shall be wise beyond your years. I only wish you happiness, my child. I love you."

In her last breath, the blacksmith's wife left without knowledge of her child's dark fate.

The poor blacksmith wailed for his loss. His beloved wife and the child that was no longer his own. He kissed his wife's lips once more, before as a last attempt trying to save the last of his happiness.

He worked quick, bidding the midwife farewell. Taking all he had left, his child and his tools, the blacksmith rode his horse out into the outskirts of the village, in a small cave surrounded by ravens and bears.

The fear of his child's fate weighed more than any beast, watching the child sleep peacefully in his arms.

Days turned to months. His child grew to crawl in the damp cave. The ravens and bears soon left, giving a place for the deers, birds, and other woodland creatures to come and protect. The blacksmith soon went back to his work, leaving the child in the animals' care (not a wise decision, but he had no choice).

None asked the blacksmith what happened to his family. His somber face told it all. He lived his life quietly throughout the day, returning to the cave at night to feed his happy child. This continued for months until the child's first birthday came around.

He thought all was well, and the Queen had forgotten about the repayment. The blacksmith brought the child back to the village.

All were on wonder seeing the child one day, a face so pretty and locks a vibrant lilac color. The child was the treasure of the town, all caring for the babe like their own.

But alas, the Queen was cruel with intentions, never forgetting the poor blacksmith and his request for her flowers.

She watched in wait for one year to hear of the child's birth, hoping to see her vision come to pass. Her annoyance turned to rage, seeing that the blacksmith ran off one day. Instead of going after him, she bided her time. He was bound to come back. He wasn't the brightest bell after all.Her son was by her side, riding off into the village when news of the babe's arrival came to her ears. The clear sky of the village turned dark with thunder as her presence became imminent, all cowering to her form.

Seeing the poor blacksmith in his shed, she walked to him, her emerald scepter heavy trashing his goods.

"You deceitful little man! How I trusted you to repay your dues only to be ambushed by your attempt of hiding."

Knowing not what else to do, the blacksmith kneeled before the evil Queen, begging for mercy, "Please, dear Queen, my wife died in childbirth. My child is all I have left. Have pity for your servant and let him live his days happy with his child."

The Queen held little patience for such whining, rolling her eyes while watching her handsome Prince. His eyes were void of emotion, seeing the blacksmith's pitiful state.

"I care little for your troubles, blacksmith. You promised me your child as payment for my sacred flowers, and your child I shall have. Why must you fear so? Isn't your child a boy? He will grow up a good life being my dear Prince's servant."

The blacksmith shivered, unable to speak his thoughts.

The cross look on the Queen's face turned into evil glee, "Unless, of course, this child you are so adamant on hiding is not a boy, but a girl."

She walked around the small shed, "Where is the child? Bring them to me NOW!" Her scepter created a crack on the floor, all others scurrying to find the child in question.

In minutes, the pretty babe was brought before the evil Queen, wrapped in ragged cloths fumbling to be freed.

She held onto the child with care, enamored with the beauty of the child and their lilac hair. She cooed the babe, who in a child's innocence, reacted favorably.

"So, this why you were in hiding. This pretty girl of yours was to be my Prince's betrothed. Why, is my Prince not worthy of your daughter's hand?"

"No, my fair Queen! I meant no ill in hiding her. I only wish to live a happy life with all I have left, my work, and my daughter." Tears ran down the poor blacksmith's face.

She watched in pity the blacksmith's face on the floor, trembling at her feet. The Prince also watched with hawk eyes, discerning no deceit from the poor man. His eyes watched his mother's divisive ones, gauging what she would do next.

"Very well, you shall have this one final wish. You and your daughter will live that happy life you crave so dearly. She shall grow up to be beautiful and graceful, wise and talented beyond her years. She should be the envy of all women and the desires of all men, but none shall have her. In all her strengths, her weakness shall be her demureness. Her shy nature shall bring her demise. May the man who claims her be one with a kind face, but evil intent at heart. He shall prick her with an arrow, and it shall not only bring her to her knees but also force her to obey his every command till the day he dies. The only way to break this spell shall be through eating a golden lilac, stopping the curse, and letting her live in free will."

She handed the child to the poor blacksmith, who pulled his child in a warm embrace, kissing her forehead.

"I shall be wiser and not let you get away this time. You shall not remember this encounter, not the curse sent your way. You shall remain happily foolish until the demise of your daughter is complete. She shall suffer for your disobedience, and you shall learn what it means to bring forth the Queen's wrath."

She walked away, her beloved Prince behind her. He watched the pretty girl in her father's arms. For a moment, sadness crossed his eyes.

The poor blacksmith cried for an hour, and as the Queen proclaimed, he forgot about the curse.

#original character #original story #original writing #merry christmas darling #jenny lee #jenny #walker hayes #dark fairytale #fairytale #fairytale aesthetic #new au #sneak peek #evil queen #witch