#broke: every conversation between them is hostile

[bellaxgiornata]

Break the Tension [Chapter Three: "The Fire"]

Pairing: Matt Murdock x Fem!Reader Word Count: 4.5k

[Full summary and series chapter list can be found here.]

Warnings/tags: 18+; Enemies to lovers, sexual tension, smut, semi-public sex, light angst

a/n: It has been SO LONG since this one had an update, but here you all finally go! This one might give y'all whiplash. Feedback is always appreciated!

Tag list: @mattkinsella @danzer8705 @pazii @paracosmic-murdock @xxdrixx @haydensith @mixedfandomthings @lilbanas @dorothleah

Swirling the beer inside the bottle in your hand, you had been overly aware of Matt’s focus on you from across the manor’s back patio this entire evening. It didn’t matter that he was blind and his gaze was covered by those dark glasses of his, you could tell every time he’d zeroed in on you whenever you’d spoken among the group you'd sat with that evening. It was like he couldn’t resist the sound of your voice, drawn to it every time you opened your mouth. But you’d caught the way his lips had always thinned out along his face at the sound of it, as if it irritated him that he couldn't stop being so aware of your presence even though he hadn’t been among the group you’d been talking to at the time.

You’d admittedly been enjoying his reaction to you for the past hour as you’d sat drinking down your beer and getting warm by the fire. Though recently Marci had come over and introduced you to a woman by the name of Karen, a beautiful blonde who apparently worked with Matt and Foggy as a lawyer and partner herself at their law firm. The pair of them had taken a seat near you, and as the conversation flowed between the three of you–Karen apparently very curious and interested in the fact that you’d also gone to law school at Columbia with her close friends and firm partners–you’d noticed the group you’d been sitting with had quickly broke off. Eventually Matt and Foggy had found their way over to the three of you and joined in on the reminiscing, but it hadn’t failed your notice the way Matt would jump in, still occasionally shooting off rude comments to you whenever he could.

“So how does it feel,” Karen asked, gesturing her almost empty wine glass at you after you’d once again rebuffed one of Matt’s rude comments, “to be one of the few women immune to Matthew Murdock's charm? Because I’ve seen countless women fall prey to it, even opposing counsel on cases. But you seem…surprisingly unaffected. And I’ve never actually seen him be so blatantly hostile before.”

Matt scowled in his chair but remained silent, instead focusing on twirling the beer bottle he held between his hands. At least it wasn’t going unnoticed that he was being a jerk.

“It’s easy to ignore,” you told her, drawing your bottle up to your lips for another drink, “when he doesn't actually have any charm.”

Beside you, Marci sputtered on the sip of wine she'd just taken as you took a drink from your bottle. She coughed lightly into a hand as next to her, Foggy’s eyes grew double their size and  flew over towards Matt in shock. Across the little circle you'd all made, Matt openly scoffed in response. His hands stopped twirling the beer bottle, instead visibly gripping the neck of it in irritation. On your other side, Karen threw a hand over her mouth, attempting to stifle the amused giggle that slipped out of her at your response. 

“The only reason she says that,” Matt countered, tone bitter, “is because I’ve never actually used it on her.”

Swallowing down your beer, you lowered the bottle back to your lap. Your eyes narrowed in irritation at his red lenses and that faint smirk on his lips. As you sat there focused on Matt, you could feel Marci, Foggy, and Karen suddenly sucking in a collective breath, but you paid them no further attention. Instead, you were busy recalling the advances Matt had made on you not that long ago this evening. Clearly he was trying to save face, considering the revelation you’d recently had when he’d barged into your room and tried to sleep with you after the rehearsal dinner.

“Oh really?” you asked. “You sure about that? Sure you've never tried to charm me, Murdock?”

“Yeah, I am,” he replied stiffly. “Though I’m guessing part of your anger towards me comes from the fact that I never flirted with you in college. I guess someone’s just disappointed they were always passed over.”

A humorless laugh slipped out of you immediately, the sound drawing a deep frown to Matt’s mouth. 

“Passed over?” you asked in disbelief. “Are you serious?”

By now, Foggy, Marci, and Karen were sitting with rapt attention, their eyes darting back and forth between the pair of you like they were watching a tennis match. But your focus was solely on Matt and the challenge he was once again drawing you into. You weren't just going to sit there and take his insults quietly. 

“You tried to sleep with almost every single young woman you came across on Columbia’s campus, Murdock,” you continued, hoping he could at least feel the glare you were shooting him. “You were nothing but an absolute asshole to me for the duration of our time at law school together. If anything, I was thrilled to avoid the walking health hazard that threw himself at everything with tits and focus on my studies instead.” You shot him a dark smile, drawing your beer back up to your lips. “You’re not nearly as charming as you think you are, I can assure you of that.”

Matt’s lips pursed, his grip somehow tightening on his beer bottle even further. It looked like he would shatter it if he held it any tighter. You noticed a muscle beginning to twitch in his cheek and one of your brows rose in triumph onto your forehead. Because you knew that he thought you’d be some sort of easy lay this weekend, and he was most certainly going to be proven very wrong. If he wanted you–especially if he was going to continue to be an ass–he was going to have to beg you for whatever it was that he wanted. And you'd certainly enjoy the sight of that.

“Whoa…” Foggy breathed out from the other side of Marci. “It’s been years since I’ve seen another woman speak like that to Matt. I forgot it was possible for women to not fall at his feet...” He shook his head, the look of awe washing off his face immediately. “I mean I know you two have always had… issues with each other, but to see that you really are still immune to his cocky smiles and witty replies is truly still a sight to behold. Especially because I’ve witnessed him charm the pants off many, many women over the years.”

You huffed out a laugh, glancing down at your almost finished drink. “And somehow that doesn’t surprise me,” you muttered. “Still a fuck boy even after graduation. What a shock.”

“Fuck boy?” Matt asked in distaste, his lip curling up into a sneer. “I’m far from that, sweetheart.”

You rolled your eyes before turning towards Karen. She shot you a tentative smile, brushing some blonde hair behind her ear.

“You started off as an office manager for their firm before becoming a lawyer, right?” you asked her.

“Uh, well, yes,” she answered hesitantly.

“And did Murdock ever try to charm you while you were working for him?” you asked her. “Ever flirt with you? Take you out?”

Her blue eyes darted towards Matt briefly before they landed back on you, her lip catching nervously between her teeth. By the look on her face you already knew the answer to your question. 

“Well, we dated briefly,” she admitted. “But things didn’t really end up working out.”

Your head spun back towards Matt, a smug smile on your face. “You tried to sleep with your own office manager, Murdock. My point stands. You’ve always been a fuck boy. Apparently becoming an adult never changed that.”

“And apparently you’re still a bit of a bitter bitch,” Matt snapped in return. 

Marci’s hands flew out in the space between the small circle of chairs you were all sitting in, effectively cutting you both off as the tension palpably began to grow. Your teeth grit together in irritation, anger burning inside of you. He'd never stooped so low before as to call you a bitch, even if admittedly you'd made some low blows yourself this evening. 

“Okay, I think it’s time for a topic change before someone starts throwing drinks at the other,” Marci said with a nervous laugh. “Let's not forget that we're all here for a happy occasion this weekend.”

“You’re right, I'm sorry,” you apologized, rising to your feet. “I think I’ll head to bed now anyway. Seems like a good time.”

Across the circle the five of you had made, Matt abruptly rose from his chair, too. Your eyes fell back on him, your teeth still grinding back and forth together in annoyance. You just wanted to get away from him already.

For a moment he didn't say anything, just stood there awkwardly across from you, one hand repeatedly readjusting the grip he now had on his cane almost as if he was nervous. The gesture had your eyes narrowing at him suspiciously.

“I think that sounds like a good idea,” Matt finally said, voice tense. “Maybe that's what we both need. Some rest. Do you mind helping me back to my room since it's beside yours?”

Both of your eyebrows shot up onto your forehead in shock at the absolute audacity of him asking you to walk him to his room after he'd just called you a bitch. Even Marci, Foggy, and Karen looked baffled beyond belief as they sat there openly gaping at Matt. 

But that's when you realized the bridal party and members of Foggy and Marci’s family that were sitting nearby had glanced up from their conversations at Matt's request, listening in because both of you standing had caught their attention. If you refused him, you'd look like an asshole in front of everyone. 

The fucking jerk had done that on purpose .

“You want me to walk you back to your room?” you asked through gritted teeth. “Is that what you just asked me?”

“Yes,” he replied with a curt nod. “I'm still fairly unfamiliar with my surroundings here.”

Of course he was going to play up the fact that he needed assistance. What a Matthew Murdock thing to do–one of his tried and true methods back in college.

“Fine,” you grudgingly ground out between your teeth.

You'd barely stepped around your chair before Matt held up a hand, his dark brows rising up onto his forehead behind his glasses. 

“Do you mind escorting me?” he asked. “Makes it easier for me to navigate in a new place. And I'd rather not end up with a black eye because I ran into something and ruin tomorrow's photos for Marci and Fog.”

Your hands curled into fists momentarily at your sides. “Fucking Murdock,” you cursed under your breath. 

“Uh, Matt, buddy,” Foggy said quickly, rising from his own chair before you could answer, “maybe I should just walk you back–”

“That's alright, Fog,” Matt replied casually, shooting his friend a little smile. “I'd hate to take you away from the evening, and since she is already going the same way…”

“It's fine,” you assured Foggy bitterly.

Foggy’s shoulders dropped as he slowly sank back down into his seat. He didn't look remotely convinced that this was a good idea, and honestly, you knew it wasn't going to be, either. More time alone with Matt would only result in more animosity between you and him, but at least in a few days you’d never have to see him again. 

You'd just have to keep reminding yourself that for the rest of the weekend.

Making your way around the circle of chairs and over towards Matt, you reluctantly grabbed the wrist of his outstretched arm before guiding his hand to the crook of your elbow just as you'd always seen Foggy do before. Of course you'd never actually walked with Matt anywhere before yourself, so you didn't exactly know what guiding him truly entailed, but part of you almost didn't care if you saw him trip at this point. 

Wordlessly you began to maneuver the pair of you around the group of chairs, noticing the nervous smile of reassurance that Marci sent you before you turned and headed back towards the building. You carefully led the pair of you around a few more groups of people chatting and drinking before finally reaching the double doors that led back inside to the manor’s foyer. Pulling them open, you guided Matt into the building with you, but once the doors had closed behind you, you realized what a truly horrible idea this was. 

Now you were alone with him. Again.

Making a straight line across the foyer towards the hallway where your rooms were located, you tried to set a brisk pace. Internally you prayed he'd just keep his damn mouth shut for the duration of this walk together, not wanting to hear another word from him today. You didn't feel like continuing the argument you'd both somehow found yourselves in outside because Marci was right, this was her weekend. You didn't want to ruin it.

But of course, this was Matthew Murdock and he just had to fucking open his mouth again.

“About earlier, I–”

“How about we don't talk?” you rudely suggested, abruptly cutting him short. “I think it's better that way.”

A beat of silence passed as your heels clacked loudly along the floor. You heard Matt clear his throat beside you, and then to your great annoyance, he stupidly opened his mouth again. 

“Well I was actually trying to apologize,” he began in irritation. “If you'd just not interrupt me for a single second, you'd have realized that.”

You shook your head, rolling your eyes at him as the pair of you entered the hallway where your rooms were located. His hand tightened its hold around your inner arm and you desperately hoped you could actually make it all the way to the end of the hall without stabbing him with one of your heels. 

“Sure you were,” you muttered. 

“I was,” he countered. “Calling you a bitch was out of line and rude. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have. It's just, sometimes you–you drive me fucking crazy .”

A bitter laugh fell out of you instantly. You couldn't believe the gall of this guy. First he's rude to you, then he tries to sleep with you, later he calls you a bitch, then proceeds to apologize while simultaneously blaming you for him throwing out the insult in the first place.

“Anyone ever tell you that you're shit at apologies, Murdock?” you told him, eyes focused straight ahead on your room at the end of the hallway. “Because you are.”

“No, that's–that's not what I meant,” he stammered in frustration. 

Before you knew what was happening, Matt had tugged your arm sharply, pulling you to a stop in the middle of the hallway. Your heels slipped slightly along the floor at the unexpected and abrupt halt he’d drawn you to. If it wasn't for the firm grip Matt still had on your inner arm, you’d probably have tripped and fallen on your ass. 

You'd barely blinked before he'd spun you on the spot, walking you backwards until your back bumped against the hallway wall. A soft, surprised gasp slipped out of you at the impact. You stared up at him in shock and confusion as the elegant wallpaper behind you scratched against the backs of your bare legs.

“Murdock, what the hell are you doing?” you demanded.

Matt released your arm, his hand coming to land against the wall beside your shoulder instead. His other hand was leaning his cane along the wall on your other side, and then that hand too landed flat against the wall beside your hip. It took you a moment to realize that he had caged you in between his arms just before he leaned in towards you. There was an almost pained look on his face as it hovered just inches before yours, the sight of which was only further confusing you.

Your breath immediately came in short at the unexpected closeness of him to you, your own heart thudding heavily in your throat. Half of you wanted to knee him in the balls for whatever he was up to and continue your way on to your room alone, but the other half of you was curious to see how this would play out. Grudgingly you had to admit that he was obnoxiously attractive and you almost wouldn't mind if he finally admitted that he wanted you. Because maybe if he begged you right here and now–just openly admitted in some way that you were right for once–you'd actually take him back to your room and see if he really was a great lay. With the way the buttons were straining on his shirt now, stretched apart just enough to reveal a bit of toned skin beneath it, and the way his stubble accentuated the sharp lines of his cheekbones, you couldn't deny that you were finding yourself turned on.

But you refused to be the one to admit it first.

“You're right, I was being an asshole,” he confessed.

Your mouth fell open in shock immediately. He had never admitted that to you before. Not once had he ever accepted the blame for his actions. What the hell was happening right now?

“I'm sorry,” he added. “Really. You aren't a bitch. I just–just can't seem to help myself around you. You always get so easily angry and riled up with me, and then you make such irritatingly good comebacks like no one else I know that it's like…the comments just come out of me before I can stop them. But this is our friends’ big wedding weekend and…I'll try my best to control myself. To behave.”

Swallowing hard, your focus shifted down to his lips. You figured it had to have been the alcohol in your system making you suddenly want to know what they felt like on yours. It had to be the alcohol that had a heat building inside of you when you watched them move again as he continued to speak.

“So what do you say?” he asked, voice dropping down to a sultry rumble. “Truce?”

Your hands were twisting the hem of your dress, your gaze still lingering along his lips. You'd never truly noticed just how soft they looked before. Or that they were such a pleasant shade of pink.

“I just want to enjoy my weekend,” you answered him, annoyed at how breathless you suddenly sounded. “Celebrate my friends’ wedding. So if you can–can play nice for a few days, then so can I.”

Matt took a step forward towards you, closing the already miniscule bit of space between the pair of your bodies. Your back pressed further against the wall behind you as your hands released your dress, flying forward almost involuntarily and landing flat on his chest. Whether to push him away or just because you wanted to touch him, you honestly couldn't say. But your index finger had somehow landed on a bit of warm skin poking out between the strained buttons of his dress shirt. Now you couldn’t focus on anything else besides how warm and smooth his skin felt in that small little patch. You were suddenly aware of just how solid he was beneath your hands, too. Far more muscular than he even appeared beneath his snug suit coat and dress shirt. 

Your teeth ground tight together as you tried to focus on your breathing, but Matt’s hand slid across the wall and lightly landed on your hip. The heat of his palm settled so resolutely there had a shiver running up your spine. Eyes darting back up towards his face, you’d noticed his lips had parted just a fraction, his head tilted ever so slightly to the side.

“You smell so good,” he whispered.

Legs beginning to feel weak in your heels, you were practically letting the wall hold you steady now. Struggling to take a full breath, you replied, “Well that’s the–” you paused, clearing your throat and hoping he hadn’t noticed the way your voice had quivered. “That’s sort of the purpose of perfume,” you finished lamely.

He began to lean in closer towards you, bringing lips so close to yours that you could feel each passing exhale from his mouth brush over your own. You had no idea what had come over you–though you figured it had something to do with the fact that he’d apologized and called for a truce–but you weren’t pushing him away. You didn’t want to.

Which surprised even yourself.

“Tell me to stop and I’ll stop,” he murmured. “Tell me no.”

As the tip of his nose faintly brushed against yours, you weren’t sure whether he was asking you to tell him no or giving you the option to. But either way, your mouth couldn’t form a single word. Instead, your fingers dug into his chest, bracing yourself for something– anything at this point. It felt like there was a fire gradually beginning to build beneath every inch of your skin now. You’d never felt anything like it before, but you wanted more .

Slowly–almost painfully so–Matt closed the remaining distance between your mouths. The touch of his lips against yours was barely there, only that of a simple, hesitant peck. He pulled back a fraction, a deep, rumbling noise vibrating in his chest. Your fingers suddenly curled into his dress shirt, drawing him closer to you as your mind could only focus on one thought: you wanted to kiss him.

Matt’s hand on your hip gripped tighter as he pressed you further back into the wall. Then without further warning he dove forward, slamming his mouth to yours like he’d been waiting far too long for this very moment. His other hand was suddenly at your neck, holding you firmly in place before him as his lips connected with yours over and over in such a heated passion that you couldn’t catch a single breath.  

As if they were moving on their own, your hands slid their way up his chest, one of them grabbing the back of his neck to pull him closer and deepen the kiss while the other wound its way into his dark hair. You gripped a fistful of the strands tight between your fingers, your mouth desperately trying to match the feverish pace Matt’s was setting as a lightheadedness washed over you. 

Before you could register he’d moved, his lips were making a trail of kisses down the length of your jaw and towards your neck. Your head fell back against the wall as your grip on him only tightened, your eyes closing in sheer ecstasy. You couldn’t believe how good he was with just his mouth and you fought the moan that was beginning to build in the back of your throat.

His hand on your hip slid its way down, pausing on the bare skin of your thigh just beneath the hem of your dress. Seconds later you felt him bury his nose into your neck, inhaling softly as he dragged it along the length of your skin, his stubble pleasantly scratching against you as he moved. An almost inaudible whimper left him just before his hips pressed forward firmly into your own. You could feel his growing arousal pressing against your thigh now, both of your hands fisting handfuls of his hair as his lips hovered at your neck.

Then that traitorous moan finally loosed itself from inside of you, slipping past your lips when he gently nipped a sensitive spot along your neck. The sound was sinful in the otherwise silent hallway, and somehow that only made it seem louder. With something like a growl, Matt’s mouth moved further downward just before his lips latched onto your exposed collarbone, sucking on the patch of skin. You hissed out a noise of pleasure between your teeth in response just before his tongue began to run along the length of it.

But when his hand slowly began to slide further up beneath your dress, his hips sensually grinding his erection into your thigh in a way that felt far too fucking good, your eyes abruptly flew open. Sense suddenly came flooding back to you as your breath caught in your throat. 

Because you were in the goddamn hallway with Matthew fucking Murdock kissing you.

“Stop,” you gasped out.

At the sound of your voice, Matt immediately froze. His lips released your skin and his hand paused its movement, his fingertips a matter of inches from your panties. You were painfully aware of the faint wet patch that had begun to form, something almost like embarrassment flooding you. Thankfully his hand hadn't made its way near enough to notice, something you were grateful for.

Disentangling your hands from his hair, they landed firmly on his shoulders. You gave him a determined, solid push against them and he stepped back, his hands returning easily to his sides. Though you noticed the way his chest was heaving and how disheveled his hair looked. His lips were damp with saliva and his face was flushed as he gazed back at you, dark brows knitted together in a mixture of what looked like concern and confusion. 

And you could plainly see the bulge still present in his dress pants, which only had your teeth biting down onto your lip. Because you had so easily turned him on, too. 

“I–I told you I wouldn't be some easy fuck,” you breathed out, shaking your head. “Not like all those other women you’ve been with. That's–that's not me, Murdock. I’m not them.”

For a second it almost looked like he’d winced before he opened his mouth.

“Sweetheart, you're–”

You held up a hand, more vigorously shaking your head. “No, don't call me that,” you warned him, still painfully aware of how your blood was burning at the sight of him like this before you. “If you want me you're going to–to have to admit it,” you told him, trying hard to catch your breath. “Admit that you want me, Murdock. That you’ve always wanted me. Without that, things aren’t going any further than…this.”

You pushed yourself off of the wall, aware he was still standing there staring at you in shock and confusion. You skirted around him, no longer trusting yourself to walk him to his room after that heated and unexpected kiss.

“Your room is just about fifteen more feet down the hall and on your right,” you called over your shoulder. “I'm sure you can find your way there from here.”

Picking up your pace, you hurried down the rest of the hallway to your room as well. You just wanted to get away from this confusing moment. Because Matthew Murdock shouldn't have been able to make you feel quite like that. Not nearly as easily as he had. Not after everything you’d endured with him in college and how rude he’d been to you earlier.

It had to have been the alcohol mixed with his apology. That was all it was. Because you refused to believe that you couldn't control yourself around Matthew Murdock–that you might actually want him, too.

#matt murdock x reader #matt murdock smut #matt murdock x you #matt murdock #daredevil

[solargeist]

Okok here it is 1. Cw unreality stuff i guess? Like not being able to tell if you’re hallucinating 2. I know you said they scare each other but uhh they kind of psychologically horror each other it got away from me a bit

Scar figured he was finally going crazy.

It was overdue, really, with how long he had been alone. Stranded on a hostile world, left checking over his shoulder, expecting doom around every corner, it really shouldn’t have come as a surprise that he’d started seeing things. A flicker of purple, staining his periphery as he moved about his base. It disappeared the moment he whipped around to see it, and faded from view within a few seconds every time that he noticed it, but as the stain stuck for longer and longer just in the very corner of his vision, he started to worry that this might actually be the end of him.

That was dramatic, he thought, over just a flash of purple tucked away in his blind spot, something very likely just a trick of the light. He thought, until he started monologuing to this violet cataract, started feeling the weight of eyes on his back. He’d cook more than he had planned to and leave plates out, disobeying the strict rations he had set for himself (because that was all he had to feed, himself, no one else). He had full conversations with an empty room, holding that violet smudge in the corner of his eye like a match cupped in shaking hands against a howling wind. The plates always ended up empty. He wasn’t sure who ate them. He couldn’t remember.

Time went on. Things got worse. He saw purple even when he wasn’t trying, still fading the moment he tried to pull it from his periphery, but still hiding there, by his cupboards and corners and closets, in every space that he wasn’t looking. He clung to it— sometimes it would leave for hours on end, he didn’t notice the absences before. Now they felt like bleeding out.

It was warm that day, he remembered, that he last spoke to the stain. Not directly to it, of course— moreso at it, or around it, or through it, something like that— but he found himself talking until he was hoarse nowadays and that day was no exception. “I’ve been meaning to replace these curtains,” he informed no one, stroking the sun-soaked fabric of the window between his thumb and forefinger as the shape behind him watched from the countertop. “I used to have boats on my curtains. My brother had spaceships. I was so jealous. It seemed so important then.” He let go of the curtain, letting his hand fall to the side. “I hope he’s okay. My brother. I keep hoping— I think he got off-world in time, before the transporter system broke down. They said on the radio, years ago, they’d come back for us. The scientists, not my brother.” He turned his head just slightly, catching the blurred shape in his vision as it leaned towards him. He wasn’t sure if it was genuine interest or just a bored shift. “No, the scientists said they’d get emergency transporters in place in a few months, so maybe he caught one of those, him and mom. Then again, the radios went down before the project was done, so. Not sure if they ever went through with it, if they decided we were a lost cause. I’m still here, I guess, just… waiting. For rescue, I think. Hopefully whatever it is I’m waiting for will come soon because I—“

He turned his eyed a degree too far. The shape that had grown so clear and close to him vanished like a candle blown out. He was in his kitchen. He was alone. A cupboard made bare by greedy hands and spiders, something was wrong, something was missing. He didn’t used to feel this bad about being alone, didn’t he? He had been alone before, had it really been this bad?

He figured he was finally going crazy.

Scar didn’t talk to the spot in his peripheral vision after that. He saw it and he looked away. He turned the lights out that night, all of them, hoping desperately that the darkness couldn’t trick him the way the light did. Still, his room illuminated in purple glow. He covered the mirror in the bathroom despite knowing that just behind his reflection lurked something that was not real and was not there. He closed his eyes and saw purple, purple, purple.

Tonight felt different, somehow, like fallen dew rather than ceaseless fog. Scar took a determined breath, not with less energy, but energy more focused. The air, now that he was just above the tree-line, seemed to breathe with him in powerful and controlled movements. The lights were on below him. Normally he wasn’t one to waste power, but he was facing this thing tonight if it killed him, and if it killed him, it wouldn’t really matter if he left the fridge open and the oven preheated. One more deep breath.

He found the spot in his peripheral as easily as breathing. It tried to flicker. He didn’t let it. A fraction of a degree at a time, he dragged his eye towards it, somehow forgetting its small, humanoid shape even as it lingered on in the center of his vision, form held together with spiderwebs and moth wings. Scar’s eyes burned but he didn’t dare blink. He could see them. A short, humanoid shape radiating purple and purple and purple. It was the inverse of blinding, nearly drowned out by its own afterimage, a bruise of light covering what Scar was certain was its face although he had to check a second time to make sure, the memories of what it looked like slipping past him like sand through fingers, vanishing the second he wasn’t actively thinking about it. He stared it straight in its eyes, or, where he thought its eyes should be, or, where he had already been staring and now could not remember why. He spoke, finally, for what he did not realize was the first time in a week.

“You.”

And it responded, in a voice as fragile and momentary as the wind chimes he used to keep on his porch,

“You see me?”

Or did it say, “So you can see me,” or, “I’m sorry,” or, “Was this it? Was this what you wanted? What you waited for, for so long, so very, very long?”

Or maybe it said nothing at all. Maybe he just imagined it. It had fallen through his fingers. The words were sand.

“Yes,” he answered, not remembering the question.

With a shaking hand he reached towards the bruise in his vision, palm up and terrified.

“You really shouldn’t be able to see me…” the thing muttered (but maybe didn’t), reaching forward with its own hand. Palm down, landing hesitantly on Scar’s. Their hands touched, and with the sound of glass wind chimes and an hourglass breaking in reverse, the haze shattered, reabsorbed into this newly material being like a lizard eating its own shed skin. Scar blinked. The thing, now visible and rememberable as a short, blonde man with two eyes (purple) and, in fact, an entire face typical of a person. The wings were new, though.

He looked down at their hands, still held, and dragged a thumb across the back of the man’s hand, remembering the texture; rough, but not calloused, like he maybe needed some lotion.

“How?” It asked, and this time it stuck in the world, echoing across the roof.

This time Scar didn’t answer. “Who are you?”

The man with wings hesitated. A second too long, and a new voice spoke, from no determinable source.

“Alright, sunrise, that’s enough.”

This voice shot clean through the world, a practiced arrow leaving no entry or exit wound. In fact, Scar was certain no one had spoken at all.

He looked back at the man whose hand he held. He was not there. Had he ever been there?

-🦕

OHH this was fun , i doodled bc the part abt Scar making two meals stuck out to me

#ask #grian #the crafting dead #evo smp #goodtimeswithscar #gtws #sketching #my art #grians eating rice and fish <3 i ate that the other night #i didnt expect watcher mum to show up AUGH

[sailxrmxrs]

i truly underestimated the sheer amount of brainrot watching trigun stampede would give me but here we go. this is the culmination of many nights spent scrolling vash fanart and letting the thoughts run wild. circumstances mean there's a gunfight happening and vash is there by your side trying to protect you but oops a bullet scraped past you and now he's taking you to safety asap to patch you up and fret over your wellbeing. protective vash being soft and flustered hits me directly in a weak spot he's just so.....y'know. love that little man.

Surviving in a hellish desert in the throes of summer was already an arduous task in its own right. Settlements and towns were miles upon miles apart, the distance feeling even longer when the horizon was a vast pool of sand as far as the eyes could see. Not to mention the perpetual thirst and hunger that ailed your body at any given time of day. The relief that coming across some semblance of civilisation brought was beyond words. However, enjoying such a sight was too often spoiled by hostile hosts or unsavoury groups. Travelling with Vash the Stampede meant there was never a boring moment, even if he did draw trouble like a magnet. Today was no different, under the unrelenting summer sun was the sound of gunfire. It had been like any other day until someone had recognised Vash and all hell broke loose. As soon as the gunfire started, you both dived for cover shortly before Vash charged off without a second thought to try and take care of things by himself. He always tried to insist that you remained out of danger despite knowing he was fighting a losing battle. Not once had you let Vash fight alone nor did you intend to start now. Pistol in hand, you held your own, immobilising anyone who came close enough. Never enough to fatally harm them, just enough to leave them unable or unwilling to keep fighting. Vash had been adamant that neither of you would be killers and you were more than happy to comply. Peaceful resolutions were few and far between but that didn't mean lives had to be lost for the sake of some gun fight over a money reward.

Surveying the area, you caught sight of Vash's familiar red coat. He artfully dodged a bullet flying his way, rolling behind a broken-down car for a momentary shelter. A perfect opening to make your way to him. Survival in numbers was always the winning move. You aimed your pistol, shooting at your assailant's feet and sending them off balance. It gave you enough time to jump to Vash's side, ducking just fast enough to dodge the bullet intended for you.

"What are you doing?! You never listen when I tell you to stay out of trouble," Vash complained, pouting as you caught your breath. It was almost impressive how he could sound so casual right in the middle of a direct attack on his life. He reloaded his bullets, lips still downturned though you knew he was secretly grateful for the backup. Even if Vash preferred to keep you out of harm's way, he never once doubted your ability to keep up with him.

"And let you have all the fun? No thanks." More gunshots struck the body of the car, swiftly ending any attempts at conversation. There would be time to talk things over later. First you had to get out with your lives in tact. You and Vash shared a look, silently communicating the usual plan of action and within an instant you were jumping back into the fray. In any other instance, being outnumbered would be cause for worry but with Vash at your side you knew that you would prevail. He hadn't earned his infamous reputation for nothing. Even if he was secretly far softer and much less prone to violence than the wanted posters suggested, his skill with a gun was on another level—though a decent helping of luck no doubt factored into his survival. Vash shouted over the cacophony of sounds, only just audible as he checked in with you. Even in the midst of battle Vash was as attentive as the situation allowed him to be. Every time you'd shout back that you were fine, that he should worry about himself but it did little to quell his worries.

The distant sound of cars approaching sounded from the deserted town centre. Whoever was leading this gang had called for backup and soon you and Vash were going to be surrounded. Your attackers were focused on Vash, intent on taking down the Humanoid Typhoon before worrying about the unnamed partner he'd found himself. He was worth a lot more in their eyes, which gave the perfect opportunity to slip away and take care of the threat before it became an even bigger problem. Usually you'd like to let Vash know if you were disappearing off somewhere but circumstance didn't allow it and you just had to hope he'd be able to find you once it was all over. You sprinted down past an old bar, its windows once boarded up but now littered with bullet holes. The place was certainly a ghost town. There had been no sign of life until a suspicious looking individual had emerged from the shadows asking who Vash was. There was no telling what troubles they'd caused here to clear out the townsfolk. Still, you couldn't dwell on maybes and what-ifs. What mattered here was getting out safely. And maybe finding some salvageable food and water to sustain you and Vash on the next leg of your journey.

Peeking out from an abandoned home, you caught sight of five men standing in what used to be the town centre. Whoever these people were they were no amateurs, at least judging by the size of their guns anyway. This could end poorly if you weren't careful. A more defensive approach was in order; sticking to the shadows to conceal your whereabouts was likely the only way you'd come out of this alive. You climbed through the broken window to the empty building beside you, making your way upstairs and onto the balcony. The wood of the balcony seemed to be holding together well enough to keep you mostly hidden from view with a few stray cracks and holes to keep an eye on your targets. It was the perfect spot to line up your gun and take aim without getting yourself caught too soon. You just had to hope the wooden barrier was enough to keep you from harm until you'd taken enough of them down. Your sight was limited, but even a few misses could suffice as warning shots to deter them from getting involved. On many occasions you'd watched grown men run screaming when a bullet struck metres away from their feet. All bark and no bite. Though something told you these men wouldn't go down quite so easily. Your intuitions proved accurate, the blind shots doing little to scare them off.

Within a few shots, your position was compromised and your targets had begun their own onslaught of bullets. A number of bullets struck the balcony though you still remained out of sight for the time being, the few hits you'd managed to land working in your favour to skew their aim. Judging by the speed at which they shot, you'd need to make a move. And fast. If one of them decided to make a run for the house you'd be without a solid escape route. Then, a bullet came flying, striking a wood panel beside you and giving your attackers a direct chance to shoot. You leapt up from your spot, running back into the house to make your escape. Footsteps thundered up the stairs leaving you no choice but to engage. Despite his imposing size, the man was not well-trained in close combat. His moves were predictable and clumsy, leaving one too many openings for you to take advantage of and send him crashing down unconscious. One threat down meant only four more to take care of. Then there was Vash and whatever chaos he was involved in right now. You couldn't let your concern for him cloud you judgement, pushing those fears aside as you made your way down and back out of the window you'd climbed in from. Gunshots were firing at an alarming rate though there was little strategy in it. They didn't know where you were just yet. Waiting behind the wall to the house, you let them edge closer before ambushing them with a fresh round of bullets. Now that you were on ground level, you could see two of the assailants holding back, no weapons in sight—though there was no counting on them being unarmed.

As shots fired, you tried to manoeuvre around the onslaught of ammunition but without sufficient cover you couldn't escape the scrapes of a few bullets. Cursing under your breath as one shot past your cheek and split the skin, you heard a familiar voice calling your name. Vash. He was running like a fire had been lit inside of him. There was an intensity upon his face that you rarely ever saw. Even in the most dangerous and dire of situations, Vash always managed to send you a beaming smile. He was truly the embodiment of sunshine. But right now he was the eye of a storm crashing over all in its wake. He was ruthless with his shots, each one striking true and sending your attackers to the ground. Still alive, but perhaps wishing they weren't. The two men who had been hanging back and watching remained out of Vash's line of sight and, for the time being, out of danger. Not if you could help it. Raising your gun, you set onto the two remaining assailants. They were quick to return fire as they backed towards their car.

"Let them go. We need to get out of here," Vash called, making his way over to you. "Are you oka—" Vash halted mid-sentence, spotting the slow drip of blood down your cheek. Without another word, he was scooping you into his arms and running despite your protests. It was a minor injury, not one to panic over. But Vash didn't seem to think so. He carried you off to the other side of town, making for one of the abandoned homes still in good enough shape to act as sufficient shelter. He sat you down on an old leather couch, the material torn up and worn, as he rummaged through drawers in the neighbouring kitchen to look for something to clean the wound with.

"Can I trust you to stay there while I go back to our car? Assuming it's still in one piece, that is," Vash asked, eyeing up with caution. Worried knitted his brows as he contemplated leaving you here alone and unprotected.

"I can walk, you know? It's just a little scratch."

Vash shook his head, blonde hair as animated as his expression. "Doctor's orders."

"You're not a doctor."

"Am now. Stay there." Vash made for the doorway before turning back to add, "I'm glad you're okay."

When he returned with some supplies, Vash set to cleaning your wound. The bleeding had long since stopped but he was adamant that it required his utmost attention. His movements were gentle as he wiped away the dried blood with a dampened rag of fabric while his other hand softly holding your chin in place. He always touched you with a delicate sense of care, but this felt almost as if he were scared to break you any further. Despite his tenderness, something darker seemed to linger in Vash's face. As if he felt guilty for not being there just that little bit sooner. None of this was his fault. There was no way to predict such an attack would happen. It was simply the way of the land. Whether Vash viewed it that way or not was another matter entirely. Once he deemed you cleaned up and devoid of any other injuries, Vash tossed aside the cloth and leaned forward in his seat. He was uncharacteristically quiet, usually full of energy after making a safe escape from a fight.

"Vash?" Your voice was low, tentative so as not to startle him. "Please don't blame yourself for what happened out there. I'm fine, see?"

His eyes remained fixed on a hole in the flooring as he responded. "They came after us because of me. You got hurt because I wasn't fast enough."

"No." You immediately denied his admissions of guilt, edging closer to place your hands on his cheeks. They were as soft as usual, tinted pink from sun exposure. His eyes were glistening, tears threatening to spill down those rosy cheeks. "This isn't your fault, Vash."

"I was so scared. I thought I'd taken care of the last of them then I turn and see you're gone. I heard gunshots and—" He paused, voice cracking. "You don't know how I relieved I was to see you still alive."

Your heart ached, knowing all too well the fear that had likely stricken him in that moment. "I promised that we were in this together, didn't I? Can't go breaking it just yet." You smiled, heart fluttering at the sight of Vash mirroring the action. Your thumb swiped at a stray tear as you left a soft kiss on the bridge of Vash's nose. His cheeks warmed a deeper shade as he tried to pull away. He flustered easily but still tried to hide it every time to no avail.

"Think we're good here for the night? We could do with sleeping in an actual bed for once. One more night in the car might actually kill me."

Vash nodded, hands finding yours as he pulled you up from your spot on the couch. "Practice for the future, hm? All cosy in a little house. Could be nice. So long as you don't mind the bounty, that is."

"It's worth it if it's you." Vash's hold on your hands dropped, his hands moving to cover his bright, blushing face. Your laugh chimed with the sound of his whining complaints. What the future held in store for you and Vash was unknown, but you were certain that so long as he was smiling, all would be well.

#trigun x reader #vash x reader #trigun stampede x reader #vash the stampede x reader #trigun fanfic #2023 is the year of wolfwood n vash occupying 87% of my brain space #and honestly i don't mind this is great #no number of fics involving this man will sustain me he's just so #anyway goodnight to vash enjoyers and vash enjoyers only #anna writes

[drdemonprince]

I wanted to thank you for Unmasking Autism. Beyond the content, which is both extremely relatable and extremely insightful, I am overjoyed with how much listening to it has pulled me in and kept me engaged. I have struggled with reading or even listening to audio books since my diagnosis because my ability to read and process information was the biggest casualty of the intense burnout that began when my mom died in 2020 that ultimately led to my diagnosis. Reading just broke for me, and it's been gut wrenching.

This is the first book I have attempted to read or listen to that I am devouring the way I used to devour books, and it is because so much of it is relatable and articulated in a way that resonates. The way you write about your experiences is so similar to how I describe my own, even when describing traits where I present very differently. You understand and recognize the incredible nuance and intersection of autism and other parts of identity and life experience, but you present it in a way that is understandable and relatable. The infinite complexity is acknowledged and embraced without the explanation itself being needlessly complicated.

Unlike every other audio book I have tried, I rarely find myself having to rewind to try to parse something that didn't make sense on first listen, which is filling me with such joy because I have struggled so much to recover my reading ability and while audio books have been somewhat more accessible because my visual challenges aren't an obstacle, it's still been such a source of pain to struggle to understand and process books. It felt like losing something that was a huge part of my life and a major form of emotional self care.

I plan to read the text version once I finish the audio book. The way this has woken up parts of my brain that felt locked away is giving me confidence to try to break into the rest of those walled off areas again. It might sound hyperbolic, but it feels like you fixed part of my brain that I thought might be gone for good. This is the book I needed right now to feel more like myself. It needed to be this topic, something which has been central to every aspect of my life for so long and which I am still trying to understand. It needed to be written this way, with a voice that is clear and direct. It needed to be written by someone who's understanding is personal but also communal, someone who understands the intersections of identity that lead to inequity and hostility for marginalized communities.

I really needed this right now.

Thank you so much.

This is such an immensely lovely comment to receive, I've been sitting with it the last few days not knowing what to say. I'm really glad you've found a way to enjoy and reconnect with reading and that you're feeling empowered to do more.

Over the years I've had long lulls between being able to enjoy any books, video games, or even music at times, and losing an ability to access a type of joy I once considered a big part of me is very tough and deadening. But rediscovering those passions and the ability to take them in and appreciate them is like coming back alive.

(I just had that kind of deadened lull recently with gaming-- because of the medium being associated with my ex, I havent been able to enjoy it the last couple years for myself.

but then i rediscovered the passion of being swept up with a wonderful, thought provoking game on my most recent play thru of disco elysium and fuck, the dora conversation had me really tearing up. and all the conversations about ideology in the game have me feeling passionate about political psychology, a field i studied for years and then abandoned, for the first time in a long, long while.)

Sending you well wishes and hoping that anybody else who is reading this who has been unable to enjoy their passions the past few years finds a way to reignite that spark again soon, too. I think lockdown and the breakdown of regular daily rhythms combined with increased social media usage made it very, very hard for me to gear shift into enjoying challenging art for a *while*, and from what i've seen and heard many people are reporting the same. may it all come back for us.

anyway, yeah, thank you for telling me. im glad my book was able to help get you back on the road to enjoying books. i was very intentional when i was writing it about signposting everything that i was going to say and explaining things both thoroughly and clearly, trusting that the reader could understand and find pleasure in groking all the the scientific work and sociopolitical argumentation so long as it was presented to them in sensible way. i was so fortunate that my editor allowed me to really get into the weeds and parse through the nuances of many topics while also encouraging me to put things plainly and compassionately.

i dont know if my next book is quite up to snuff in this regard yet -- it's really dense, and i seem to have lost some of the ability to slowly break down complex topics sometimes lately, so your message is a necessary reminder to put in that work. if i can't explain something simply, i dont yet understand it, and that means i have some more work to do.

[eyes-of-nine]

question 17 & 18 for .... ALL of them!! :3 i wanna know more bout them all :'D

(but also of course u can also just choose to answer this question for only some of them that u wanna answer it for)

AHFDGGADFH ELLY!! i'll try to keep the intros really really short bc there's quite a few

17.Are they easily embarrassed?

18.What embarrasses them?

Asher (annoying guy with light powers who thinks he can out manipulate everyone.... he can't) i don't think he's easily embarrassed on most occasions, especially with the shit he pulls off, but there are some exceptions. The biggest thing you could embarrass them with is a big spoiler but let's just say an indirect compliment could make him scream internally.

Mitchell (champion of the Ennoia of Desire, he basically gets to be almost immortal as long as he does the gods' dirty work) easily the most embarrassible (??) one out of the ashmix trio. My man cringes every time he has to hold a conversation with anyone. Pointing out basically anything he does whether positive or negative would do the trick. He is very confused when ppl can perceive him.

Phoenix (is having the worst time bc suddenly and for seemingly no reason she might be able to destroy the world and not a lot of ppl are happy about it) Girl has NO SHAME. It would be impressive to get her to show any sort of embarrassment. ...maybe except for the fact she has like -7 perception or the fact her and Theo met bc she broke his nose after he snitched on her for skipping class.

Theo ( just some guy helping his sister run a cafe, saving up for top surgery and suffering bc he's best friends with Phoenix and that means he doesn't get to know peace...ever) He has a pretty decent grasp on his emotions so it's not THAT EASY to embarrass him. He does tend to put other's needs before his own tho so I think just making him the center of attention for long enough would be enough

Star (Theo's oldest friend and a chaos gremlin who runs around using the fact that nobody suspects a small almost blind guy of smuggling illegal shit to, well, do exactly that) He's not someone who likes to show weakness, thanks to the social circles he tends to deal with, so he hides his embarrassment behind hostility. You could not tell if anything affects him or not. But there are some that tend to hit him hard. Specifically his financial situation or his ability/the reason his eyesight is fucked. He'd dislike you for it tho.

Taru-zai (Ennoia of Time and Space, in charge of running the jail between worlds and hunt down possible dangers to the order of the world) No.

Desiderem (Ennoia of Desire, consists of two incarnations: Rem the previous Ennoia of Desire who well is very dead and Des, the current desire incarnate and Mitchell's patron) almost impossible tho they do have a soft spot for their champions which is very not indifferent higher being of them

Different universe time babey!!

Harlow (girl turned android war machine/bodyguard who after a failed android revolution that she barely escaped alive is forced to pick up pieces of her broken life back together on a desolate planet) Girlie should be happy she can't blush any more bc she would look like a tomato 24/7. If you mention anything about her not being a stoic, cold-blooded get things done no matter the cost war machine, it's over for her which looking at her choice of travel companion, she's fucked.

Caitlyn (buff himbo who sees the best in everyone until they hurt someone she cares about, running around a desert planet scavenging to help out her family and Harlow's great choice of travel companion) Not really. She's a very earnest person and rarely feels like she needs to hide something. She does get embarrassed if you use her full name instead of her super cool definitely didn't think of it in middle school nickname Cai. i love her sm

last character and last universe

Maddy (a young medium who just graduated high school and is, to her annoyance, full-time pinning over the ghost of her best friend's gf while also trying to solve her murder. just think ultimate trio of disaster lesbians) She's a bit awkward, like most teenagers/ just freshly out of high school ppl tend to be. She has a dad who loves to tease her and well looking at the bio, embarrassing her isn't that hard

oc asks

#TYSM FOR THE ASK ILYSM ELLY!!! #afdgdsd this was so fun to think about sorry it took me so long to respond there were a lot of characters ywy #they're all so so silly tho #hope you have fun thinking of the implications :3 #ask game #oc posting

[crodo-writing]

Only for Him

Character(s): Jonah Clemence

Gender-neutral reader | Word Count: 2.4k (650 in the first, 1.7k in the second)

Contents: Soulmate au where the first words you speak to your soulmate appear on your skin.

Warning: Yandere in second ficlet, Touching (sfw) without consent, general creepy vibes in the last ficlet

a/n: haha sorry for saying i was moving accounts and then not uploading smth soon after, i was writing multiple of these and uuuh it turned out writing for just one character was long enough. I have more though :3

When you are his soulmate

Soulmates had been a romanticized topic around Jonah, a mythical thing he would never be allowed to enjoy, a silly fairytale. On top of being the next Queen of Hearts and having to marry a noble woman to continue the line, his soulmate’s line was… rather anticlimactic and uninteresting. It was the furthest thing from romantic he could get. “I’m not lying” is so simplistic, so generic, and who would say that as their first words to someone? Not anyone that Jonah knew of, that’s for sure, because what reasonable person would lead off the conversation with “I’m not lying”?

And yet that was what someone said to him, straight to his face. That mysterious person that fell to Cradle on the night of the full moon, Alice the second, the one who had Cradle’s future in the palm of their hands, and the one who would help win them the war between red and black. On that night, not only was he surprised by their magic-defying ability, but the fact that they spoke the words his soulmate would speak to him. He didn’t know what to be more flabbergasted about, and that moment of hesitation made him lose them, as they ran as swiftly as they appeared. 

It was his duty to get this Alice for his king, but it was his duty as their soulmate to inform them that they were his. They most likely already knew but they hadn’t reached out to him. How rude. So he did the best thing to accomplish both goals; have a private meeting with the Alice. And for further planning, he’d be able to get both the second Alice for the red army and his soulmate. He couldn’t think of a better scenario if he tried. 

He was very pleased with himself and grew excited when he saw his soulmate ascend from the Civic Center and into the garden alone, just as he had asked. Oh how excellent it was to have a soulmate who could take orders from him. He couldn’t ask for anything better. 

Throughout their first meeting together, they wouldn’t stop surprising him. In a bad way, he would insist, as they were feisty and didn’t like to listen to him at all. They were rather hostile to him. As the meeting went on, Jonah grew more antsy and crossed with the situation before him. But the straw that broke the oxe’s back was when they told him, with such conviction, that they “could never love him.”

“Let’s play a game, Alice,” Jonah proposed with a strained smile, abruptly standing up from his chair and walking over to them. In a desperate attempt to hold his composure, he tried to school himself about how he had no reason to get so riled up about their words and actions. This was merely a pawn. His pawn, but a pawn nonetheless. Their words didn’t matter, don’t let such petty words spoken by a commoner make him irate. By the time he made his way across the table and over to Alice, he grabbed their chin for direct eye contact. “Why not play a game of love? You say you can never love me? Do you stand by that statement?”

Alice replied with a huffy “I do!”. Oh how fun it was to rile them up like they did to him. 

Jonah’s smile changed from a mask to one of mischief. “Then you won’t have a problem taking on this challenge from me. Once every three days, we’ll have a date.”

His words only made them angrier, but they couldn’t get out any words before Jonah pulled away from them and started his way back down to the Civic Center. As he walked away, Jonah spoke out to Alice. “I’ll be generous and give you wishes of luck. Though I know you’ll fall for me. Then you’ll be where you belong, right by my side”

When you aren’t his soulmate (1779)

Jonah wouldn’t say he was “fascinated” by the idea of soulmates, because that implies that he looks into this silly fairytale idea. No, as the Queen of Hearts he would never. He was never meant to have a soulmate. The universe could assign him a soulmate, but his destiny was paved by his ancestors and love was not something that they would allow for him. So it would have been better if he just never looked into soulmates. He swore he never did.

Then they had to come and ruin everything for him. This person from the land of reason. They would be his, and not just for the sake of the Red Army. Something about them just attracted him towards them. They were his destiny. Yet the words on his wrist said differently, saying words far different than the ones they spoke to him.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you too, Queen of Hearts,” blemished his wrist. Scowling for the uptenth time, Jonah tears his eyes away from the words. There were a plethora of things wrong between you and the words from his soulmate that all added up to you not “being the one”. For example, you didn’t even know who he was. A shame, truly. Then you acted so brashly and indignantly. And there were so many other things, yet he knew you were “the one” for him. The universe had it wrong, that was all. He could easily fix this with some seduction on his behalf. On top of that, it wasn’t like you two had to be soulmates; there wasn’t a guarantee that soulmates would find each other. It was a rare and celebrated occurrence. If you were his soulmate, it would make everything far easier. Yet his best efforts came up barren, as his proposed challenge of “dates” didn’t make you like him at all. If anything, it made you hate him more.

Furrowing his brows, Jonah tried to think of other ways to get you. Time was ticking and he had less than two weeks to get you. Jonah pondered over many options. There was always the option to go straight to kidnapping, but that wouldn’t be honorable. The deal was that you would fall for him on your own volition, that he’d win you over, not just grab you. No, he had to figure out something that would still force you into the Red Army Quarters. They would be his. They were his. 

The words on his wrist kept taunting him, practically screaming at him about the connection he has and how you aren’t his other half. A stark reminder that the universe didn’t see you two fit. The universe was blind, it could be wrong, so why would he blindly follow what the universe laid out for him? 

Snarling at the tattoo, he pulled the sleeve of his shirt and coat down, hiding the most useless thing to him. It was going to gain some usage today though. He didn’t think himself to be a brute, but if he had to force two puzzle pieces together to make an image, then so be it. 

This would be the last day you weren't officially Jonah’s.

Jonah had made plans for the third date between you two, choosing the crystal lake to show you what “Cradle had to offer”, since you were interested in Cradle. It was secluded, a gorgeous sight, especially to someone who wasn’t from Cradle, and rather romantic. The sky was clear, the sun didn’t shine too brightly, and the temperature was refreshingly cool. Really, nothing could go wrong. 

He arrived first, of course. He decided a small picnic was in order, as you seemed to like more common activities. Things that were really below him, but nonetheless sweet. You arrived as Jonah was placing the picnic blanket down, albeit clumsily and in the most awkward fashion ever, but he was preparing everything well enough. 

“Do you need help there?” you walk over to Jonah, already reaching down to fix the blanket. 

“No,” Jonah swats your hands away, scrunching his face up. “I don’t. I can do this just fine, give me just a moment.” With that, Jonah went back to laying the blanket on the ground. Some of it was still bunched up, but it was still the best place to sit in the immediate area. “See! Perfect! Now come, come sit. The food won’t eat itself.” Jonah grabs the previously discarded basket of goodies and goes to the blanket. 

“Alright, alright,” you chuckle, walking over to Jonah’s blanket and sitting yourself down. “What do you have today, oh great Queen of Hearts?”

“Some sandwiches, macaroons, strawberries. Just some light things.” Jonah seemed to have brightened up from your words. Maybe he was preening from you referring to him by his title. “Oh, there’s something I wanted to ask about the Land of Reason.” 

“And what could that be?” Looking at him quizzically, you try to decipher where the conversation could be leading to. He hasn’t seemed too curious about it before. The focus on the dates so far had been on whooing you. Maybe he was trying a new tactic or gathering intel for a new tactic? 

“Are there soulmate connections?”

“Yes,” you quirk a brow at his question. That seemed rather odd to ask. “We have soulmate connections in the land of reason. Do you not have them in Cradle?”

“Oh we have them in Cradle,” There was nearly an audible smile in his words. “I was just asking to see if there were any in the land of reason, because of the lack of magic there.”

“Why would that make us have no soulmates?” squinting, you try to quickly think of where this leads. Soulmates. He’s asking for soulmates… does he want to know if you have a soulmate? Or if you’re soulmates? No you’d already know by now, plus it’d be a nightmare to be his soulmate. You’d send your regards to his poor soulmate if you could.  

“I don’t know,” Jonah shrugged. “I just wanted to see what differences there were between the Land of Reason and Cradle.”

“Well, is there anything else about soulmates there you want to know about?” You try to finish all this soulmate talk as soon as possible, specifically for future encounters. If you get everything out here, he’ll stop pestering you.

“What’s your soulmate connection?” He asks it so simply, yet it was the most shocking thing he could have asked. Mouth agape, you try to formulate a response, but Jonah keeps going. “Mine is the tattoo one, the first words your soulmate speaks to you.” 

“Oh really? Well mine’s-” You can’t even try to be polite and Jonah interrupts. He makes it so hard to be nice, he really does. 

“Anyways, Soulmate, how do you do?” You’re flabbergasted. If you weren’t so shocked, you’d joke about how he could ask a worse question than the one before. He’d manage to find something worse, you were betting on that now. 

“Excuse me? I’m not your soulmate?” Indignantly, you try to get the conversation to get equal again, for you to be an active participant, to be an equal to Jonah. At least in the conversation. You couldn’t even dream about being on his level, but a conversation was different.

“Well you may not be my soulmate, but I love you.” With a stern face, he slowly started to unveil his intentions. “We could make this work.” With every word, he kept making the encounter worse. At this point, it was probably the worse date you’d ever gone on. This was practically proposing on the first date, with someone you barely got along with. Where’d he even get the “we” from? He was rather delusional on that front, that or making flawed assumptions. There’s no way you’d go through this willingly. 

“I don’t love you though!” You shout, losing composure. This was a train wreck, truly terrible. Jonah had never talked to a a romantic interest. To hell with this “plan” to hold the war off with these playdates, Jonah was freaky at this point. “I don’t know where you got that impression, but I don’t have any feelings for you.”

“Well I do!” He yelled back, composure completely gone, leaving a panting, desperate man. His feelings were more important than yours. 

He wasn’t going to take a rejection. 

“I love you so much and I hate that. I loathe the fact that you keep me up at night.” Crawling over, like the desperate and deprived man he is, his manic eyes met your. You were frozen in shock, this is not the Jonah you’ve known.  

You’re barely able to scoot back before Jonah is in front of you, grabbing your wrists to stop your escape. Though he quickly moves to your side after securing you, holding you in an embrace from behind. This would be very sweet if Jonah wasn’t like this. Or better yet, if it wasn’t Jonah at all. You’d be sure to avoid him in the future, but you were scared you wouldn’t have a future after this. Both arms wrapped around you. Before getting fully situated, he pulled the sleeve down on one of his arms, before intertwining the used hand with one of your and laying both against your stomach. Your other arm was getting squished between Jonah’s other arm and his body. He held his wrist out, his bare wrist clearly visible and tattooed words upon them in a refined handwriting. “Now you better say the words on my wrist if you know what’s good for you.”

Jonah had an amazing knack for being horrid. You were too shocked to speak. You were truly a fish on land, both because it felt like you were suffocating and you could only open and close your mother in shock. You really jinxed yourself by saying asking about soulmates was the most shocking he’d get. He exceeded your expectations. 

When you didn’t speak, Jonah gave you a quick squeeze to get your attention. “I told you to read the line.” He was getting impatient. 

Somehow you find your voice again and shakily do as he asked. “Uh I- it’s a pleasure to meet you too, Queen of Hearts.” You were slow, but you still said it, pleasing Jonah. He repositioned himself a bit to a proper hug from behind, resting his head onto your shoulder.

“See? It wasn’t that hard,” he spoke softly into your ear, one of the most patronizing congratulations you’d heard from this haughty mess of a man. “Now everything will be easier.”

Ikemen Revolution Masterlist

#c: jonah clemence #ikerev x reader #ikemen revolution x reader #x reader #jonah clemence x reader #tw: yandere #tw: nonconsensual touching #yandere jonah clemence #yandere #yandere x reader #ikemen revolution #ikemen revolution jonah clemence #dodo writing

[therogue704]

The Great Escape

Chapter 2

Te Ke’gyce be Buir- Father’s order

Jango felt his heart quicken, “Boba, gebbar te Kurshok. Rejorhaa'ir kote bic's ca'nara at slanar*,” he kept his face carefully, expressionless, as his son left the room.

“Master who?”

“Sifo Dyas?” The Jetii probed, “was he not the Jedi who hired you for this job?”

“Never heard of him,” he continued. As he turned to the Jetii, he knew how transparently he was lying. He could see the Skepticism in his eyes. However, Jango's powers of persuasion were inconsequential, as what he required above all else, was time.

“Really?” Be’jetii** voice dripped with skepticism.

“I was recruited by a man named Tyrannus, on one of the moons of Bogden,” He answered truthfully, all the while, thinking that Boba must be down the hall by now.

“Curious," the Jetii said with hostility that made Jango’s stomach churn. The two locked eyes in a cold gaze.

It was evident that this inquiry had more to do with his trip to Coruscant, which he had begun to regret more every second, than procuring a clone army for the Republic.

“Do you like your army?” Jango asked and did his best to ignore his heart pounding in his throat. Hopefully Boba would be some distance away by now.

“I look forward to seeing them in action,” The Jetii returned, provoking a ghost of a smirk from the bounty hunter.

You won't, he thought, not you or anyone else.

“They'll do their job well,” He said instead, “I'll guarantee that.”

The Jetii studied his face, and with an abrupt, “Thank you for your time, Jango,” The time for stalling was over. And though Jango had given him little information, he knew that the Jetii had already confirmed his suspicions in his own mind, which meant that they were running on time they didn't have.

“Strange pairing for an army,” He remarked slyly, noting the sharp glanced Taun We shot him, “Mandalorians and Jedi.”

The Jetii, who had turned to make his exit, stopped predictably, and turned around evidently intrigued. Jango elaborated in a cool, dispassionate tone, “Surely a Jedi would know About the... tentative relationship between my people and your order.”

“Indeed,” The Jetii returned, stroking his well-groomed beard thoughtfully, “However, if I recall correctly, Mandalorian Heritage is a tricky thing.”

Jango could not tell if this was a slight against himself, or if the Jetii was really ignorant as to his heritage. It didn't matter now because he would never be enough. What mattered was that Boba was probably in the barracks by now, and it was high time he made an exit.

“I am a true Mando'a, and so is every one of those troops,” He glanced back at Taun We, who was looking concerned and rather awkward amidst the conversation, “It's in their spirit, as it is in mine. And I take great pride in it.”

 He fixed his eyes unyielding eye on the Jetii, as ever, expressionless, “If you'll excuse me,” he nodded toward the door, “Always a pleasure to meet a Jedi,” he added, an audible taunt in his voice.

The Jetii nodded as he was escorted into the hall by a flustered, ever graceful, Taun We, “Thank you again, for your cooperation,” she said, and for the first time in their conversation, a flash of anger broke the cold façade and manifested in a scrutinizing glare.

Jango shut the door in his face and breathed a sigh of relief. With shaking hands, he pressed the control panel to his quarters, where his armor had been set aside just moments ago. He surveyed it carefully and began to suit up.

Translations

*Boba, gebbar te Kurshok. Rejorhaa'ir kote bic's ca'nara at slanar- Boba, close the door. Tell Kote it's time to go

**be'jetii- The Jedi's (be' prefix indicates possesion)

#star wars #the clone wars #jango fett #mando'ade #mandoa #mando'a #mandalorians #kamino #kaminii #kaminoans #attack of the clones #obi wan kenobi #episode ii #boba fett #young boba fett #lama su #taun we

[hasarjunadoneanythingwrong]

conversations overheard in chaldea at 3 am through the vents

#arjuna #karna #arjuna fgo #karna fgo #fgo #fate grand order #arjuna post #arjuna comic #broke: every conversation between them is hostile #woke: 90% of their conversations are completely incoherent #based of that hades comic based off that one wack interview #karna i guess #i told you guys i could draw i didnt say i could draw well

[cazimagines]

A Freudian Slip - Part 3

Part 1, Part 2

Masterlist

Synopsis: While a fight breaks out Zemo asks you to run away from him, you accept leaving on an eventful journey with him

Word Count: 4.5k

Warnings: Fluff, Angst, Smut

Author’s note: A final 3rd installment for ‘A Freudian Slip’ I hope you all have enjoyed this brief series! Next to come out is a sequel to ‘Perfectly Exasperating’

Bucky carried Zemo back into the house bridal style, his hands gripping tightly around Zemo’s legs and chest, and dropped him onto the sofa in the midst of the room. Zemo was knocked out from when John Walker had the brilliant idea to stop Zemo from smashing all the super-soldier serum by chucking his shield at him. You could see a nasty bruise forming on the top of his head where he was struck.

You gently run your fingers over the side of his face. At this moment he looked so peaceful sleeping, his lips pulled up into a natural slight smile, parts of his hair dangled down across his forehead, his face softened and not tensed like it usually appeared to be. You brush the hair back into its usual place, running your fingers over his feverish forehead.

You turn to Bucky and Sam, whose eyes burn into yours, millions of questions flashing through them, yet they remain unspoken. “I’ll look after him,” you tell them, turning your gaze back to Zemo's peaceful form. It was easier to stare at him than them at the moment.

“You and Zemo have been spending a lot of time together,” Sam states, raising an eyebrow at you.

“Because I’ve been making sure he doesn’t betray us,” You snap back, refusing to look at them

“Sam and I have been doing that as well and you haven’t seen us giving him bedroom eyes,” Bucky argues back, stepping forward, but Sam grabs a hold of his arm to stop him from going further.

“Look y/n, we’re just concerned about you. That guy a criminal, he could easily manipulate you,”

Your eyes flash to him angrily, “You think I would be easy to manipulate,”

“No, that’s not what I meant-” Sam says but Bucky interrupts him

“Yes. I know him, y/n, that is exactly something he would do. You can’t trust him,”

“I’ve told you already, I’m just making sure he doesn’t betray us. There’s nothing else. I’d appreciate it if you believed me,”

They sigh in defeat, glancing at each other, then back to you. “Look, I will not argue with you. Go get him the things he requires. Bucky and I need to check to see if we can find Karli. I might get a chance to talk to her again” Sam says and he and Bucky turn their backs, sending one last concerning look at you over their shoulders then disappearing.

You sigh looking back to Zemo who still slept peacefully unaware. A smile tugged on your mouth, but it twisted to a frown. You all knew damn well you had been lying. Whether you wanted to admit it, you liked Zemo. Every time you saw him, the urge to kiss his lips pulled you in. You could still feel his embrace, his kisses on your neck, shoulders, collar. The sensation of him inside you, touching you. You craved it more and more like he was your addiction.

You don’t know how you hadn’t gotten to this point of being so obsessed with him, where it had kicked in. You always found him attractive, from when you first laid your eyes on him as he broke out of the prison, you felt that attraction pull to him. You never expected it would be anything more though till that one embarrassing moment when you called him daddy in the undercover mission. You could still feel your cheeks burn up in embarrassment as you remembered that night, but you could also feel your body warm up as you thought about what happened in the alleyway. How he kissed you so passionately. So earnestly.

You had tried to deny your feelings, pretend it wasn’t there, and that kiss that never happened, but Zemo would not let you avoid him. Your eyes flickered to the bathroom and your breath hitches as you remember the intimacy you two spent together there. It was there you felt you truly saw Zemo for the person he was. A man who was lonely and broken from his past. A man who cared for you no matter what Sam or Bucky says.

You felt so scared when you saw the shield hit Zemo. Panic gripped your heart as you rushed over to him. John peered down at you like you were dirt as you cradled Zemo’s head in your lap. Sam and Bucky had run up to you and were surprised you were on your knees holding his head in your hands.

As you were observing him, Zemo's eyes cracked open, and he moaned in discomfort, bringing his hand to rub his eyes. Leaping up, you shouted at him to stay still as you fetched a flannel, running it under cold water, and brought it back to him.

He smiled as you handed him the flannel, the sides of his lips curling up like a cat. “Thank you” he mumbles.

“I’ll get you a drink,”

“You’re being very kind to me y/n,”

“Don’t get used to it,”

He snickered at your sudden switch to hostility, “Will we constantly be bouncing between kindness and hatred?”

You exhale, sitting down beside him, handing a glass of whiskey to him. “I don’t hate you, Zemo, though I really should. There’s something about you I just love and I can’t let go.”

You hesitate, both of you pondering over your sudden confession. Zemo raises the flannels of his eyes and looks over at you. His eyes, which are full of wonder, scan yours. You wanted to look away, embarrassed, but you couldn’t. You didn’t want to keep running away from how you felt.

“You terrified me earlier. I thought John Walker had killed you.”

His eyes switched to concern as his eyebrows furrowed, “I’m sorry I frightened you y/n. I- I never thought I would ever get over my wife and... I still love her but you enthrall me, you drive me wild because I want to know everything about you, feel all of you, touch all of you. It’s been so long since I felt this way and it frightens me.”

You reach out your hand to grasp his and he runs his thumb over your knuckles,

“Zemo I-”

The door opens and both yours and Zemo’s head snaps towards it as Sam and Bucky walkthrough. As quick as lightning, you let go of Zemo’s hand and strode away to the opposite side of the room. Zemo’s eyes sadly glance at you, then to his hand, and he lets out a sigh. He takes a sip of his drink, then pulls the flannel back over, his eyes settling down on the sofa.

Bucky rolls his views and wanders off while Sam grabs a seat at the table to work on his laptop. The silence was suffocating. At least for you. Sam seemed to try hard to concentrate on the laptop, but Zemo relaxed, sipping his drink and you pulled out your phone, playing a silly game to waste away the time.

“Were you ever offered it?” Zemo finally asks Sam. Sam’s gaze leaves the laptop looking at you, then over to Zemo.

“What?”

“The serum,”

“No,”

You glance between them, not knowing if you should leave or not. Sam didn’t seem to want to be engaged in a conversation, but Zemo wasn’t taking the hint.

“If you had been, hypothetically, that is, would you have taken it?”

Without a second hesitation, Sam replies, a harsh tone to his voice, “No”

“No hesitation. That’s impressive,” Zemo says, nodding in approval.

He raises his hand, taking off the flannel with a slight grunt, “Sam,” he says as he holds the flannel in his hand, his gaze unwavering from it.

“You can’t hold out hope for Karli. No matter what you saw in her. She’s gone. And we cannot allow her and her acolytes become yet another faction of gods among real people. Super soldiers cannot be allowed to exist.”

You look down to the ground, frowning at Zemo’s words, but Sam answers without hesitation, “Isn’t that how god's talk?"

Zemo’s eyes continue to glare down at the flannel, for once not speaking up.

“And if that’s how you feel, what about Bucky?”

“Blood isn’t always the solution” Sam finishes as you hear a door click in the background. As Bucky walks in, you get up and walk over to Zemo again, who sits up to let you sit beside him. He gently places his hand on your knee, your eyes flickering to each other, hiding the action enough so the others don’t see. Though you both say nothing because of the present company, it’s as if you could read each other's thoughts. You were both conflicted on what path to follow and because of that, you found solace in each other.

“Something’s not right about Walker,” Bucky mutters, shrugging off his jacket.

“Like we hadn’t known that from the start,” you mumble

“Well, I know a crazy when I see one. Because I am crazy,”

“Can’t argue with that,” Sam agrees

The two argue about the shield once again and you were preparing to stop them when the doors once again burst open and John Walker and his partner storm in. All your heads turn towards the disruption and you groan in frustration at seeing him.

“All right. That’s it. Let’s go. I’m ordering you to hand him over,”

Both Sam walks out in front of John to stop him from getting nearer Zemo. You stood up to go stand by him as well, but Zemo grasps your hand as he gets up, shaking his head. Your eyebrows turn down confused, but he doesn’t offer you an explanation.

With his other hand, he hands the bottle of whiskey over to you, then picks up his glass, dragging you over to the kitchen counter. You weren’t paying attention to what Sam and John were saying till a spear flew past them, imbedding in one pillar.

Your eyes widened as you saw Dora Milaje storm in.

One of them speaks in Wakandan to Bucky, obviously pissed. “Release him to us now” she orders in English. Zemo’s eyes glance anxiously from yours to them, his mind swarming with thoughts of how to get out.

“Hi, John Walker. Captain America.” John says walking over to them. They refuse to say anything to him, so he looks awkwardly away.

“Well, let’s uh put down the pointy sticks and we can talk this through, huh?” he says, patronising them. You wanted to facepalm because of his stupidity.

“Hey, John. Take this easy. You might want to fight Bucky before you tangle with the Dora Milaje,” Sam warns

John Walker however doesn’t listen. He proceeds to antagonise them till he finally places a hand on her shoulder and all hell breaks loose.

Both you and Zemo stand at the side watching John Walker fight them. Zemo sips his whiskey and offers you a sip. You smile slightly at his nonchalant attitude about the fight, letting him raise the glass to your lips as you drink.

Both Sam and Bucky eventually join in the fight as well, and once again you move to join them, but Zemo’s grip on your hand tightens. “Not now little one” he mutters

He peers around, watching the fight as you stare questionably at him, “Zemo what the hell is up with you today. Did that hit to the head get rid of your common sense” you whisper angrily trying to tug your hand out of his. Zemo rolls his eyes at you, clasping your hand.

“We need to go” he whispers urgently and tries to tug you towards the bathroom.

“What? Zemo, Zemo wait. What do you mean we?” You ask, grounding your feet into the floor.

He looks around at the fighting, his skin becoming whiter as he gets more worried. “We don’t have a lot of time y/n, please. I need you to come with me,”

You didn’t know where he wanted to go, or how he was planning on leaving, but you could see fear prickling in his eyes as he looked at you.

“What about Sam and Bucky?”

“They will be okay. Please y/n, I want to spend this time with you. I don’t want to do this alone,”

You stare into his eyes once more, then nod, finally making your choice.

You let him lead you back into the bathroom and close the door behind him. He quickly pushes the bath aside, revealing a passageway into the sewer.

“Ugh,” you say to yourself as you look down the hole. “Ladies first,” Zemo says, placing his hand on your back, the side of his lip curling up into a smile as he guides you over to the hole.

You shoot him a glare before grasping onto the ladder and clambering down as fast as you could, trying your best not to slip.

After a minute you reached the bottom of the ladder and Zemo arrived quickly after. It was so dark down there, but thankfully Zemo had a flashlight in his coat. Once again grabbing a hold of your hand, he guides you down a pathway.

“So this was the best escape plan you had?” you ask, your nose wrinkling at the unpleasant smell

“I’m sorry y/n, did you have a better plan?” he replies sarcastically

“Well, I didn’t know I was running away with you until a minute before,”

Zemo pauses, beaming the light on your face, making you cringe. He lowers it slightly. So it wasn’t in your eyes but still illuminated your face.

“I owe you a thank you for coming with me. I know it wasn’t a simple decision to leave your friends for a person you meet just a few days ago,”

“When you put it like that, you make me feel even crazier for making this decision,” you grumble

“But it’s okay Zemo, Sam and Bucky will be fine without me, and I wanted to be with you,”

Zemo raises his hand to cup the side of your face, his thumb running along your cheekbone. Quickly he pulls you to him, capturing your lips in a passionate kiss. His spare hand holding the flashlight wraps around your waist as he holds you there, moving his lips on yours, which you reciprocate.

As suddenly as it had started, it ended. He pulled away slightly, his lips still brushing against yours. “Thank you, little one”

His nickname for you sends shivers along your spine and you let out a husky breath. He smirks at you, turning around, and continues to walk down the pathway.

Eventually, you reach another ladder that you can climb up. You blink a lot as you emerge into the sunlight, finding yourself on a random road.

“What now?” you ask

Zemo walks over to a car, jumping into the driver's seat, and pats the passenger seat next to him. As you get in beside him he easily hot wires the car and gets the engine started.

“So have lots of experience stealing cars?” you ask Zemo and he chuckles, “When you become a criminal you pick up a lot of new skills,”

“I suppose aiding with the escape of a criminal now makes me one as well. You bring about a lot of surprises,”

“I’ve been told I am quite surprising,” he glances at you, smirking as he drives, “And seductive,”

You slap the side of his arm lightly, “Eyes on the road, mister”

“Mister? I think I prefer what you called me before. Hm, what was that again?”

You groan as Zemo brings up that embarrassing night for you, “You’ll never let that go, will you?”

“You calling me daddy? Of course not. I quite like it,”

“Where are we even going?” you ask trying to direct the conversation somewhere else

Zemo turns from looking at you to the road, the smile on his face slowly fading.

“Sokovia,”

Your breath hitches as he says the name of his country, bringing back the reminders of his previous family.

“I want to see the memorial,”

You nod quietly, not sure what you could say.

For the next ten minutes, you two sit in uncomfortable silence. All previous moments where you were having fun had faded. Eventually, Zemo sighed in frustration and made a sharp turn in the car, pulling into a secluded spot on an empty road.

He turns off the car and turns to face you. “It seems to me we need to talk,”

You look to him then away, “I don’t think so”

“Y/n” he growls

“I said we don’t need to talk!” you shout, glaring at him, but you snap your lips shut as you realised how much anger had suddenly built up in you.

Recognition flashes in Zemo’s eyes as he stares at you, “This is about my family, isn’t it?”

You look away, your cheeks burning as you knew how ridiculous you were being.

Zemo nods his head, looking at the road ahead as he thought over what to say.

“You are part of the reason I want to go to the memorial,” he finally admits

It was your turn to look at him, puzzled. He pushes his lips together as he prepares for what he wants to say next.

“I love my family. Every day, I miss them. But I also really like you y/n. You are someone I want to spend all my time and money on just to make you happy. Every time I look at you, I want to take you, no matter where we are. And I feel I owe it to my family to visit the memorial to pay respect and to accept that it is okay for me to move on,”

It felt like with his words he had lifted an enormous weight off of your shoulders. Tears sprung to your eyes and Zemo looked panicked noticing them but you grinned, placing your hand on his shoulder.

“Thank you, Zemo,”

His fingers run along your arms and up to your face, tracing your jawline. His eyes flicker from your eyes to your lips and slowly move forward towards you. Once again he captures your lips with his but this time it was gentle like he was trying to savior you. You grasp the fur parts of his coat and try to pull him closer, you can feel through your kiss him smirking.

“Would you prefer to take this to the back seat?” he rasps and you nod your head quickly. You pull away from the kiss, shifting in your seat so you can clamber onto the long seat at the back of the car. Zemo holds onto your waist as he follows you through the back. He sits down on the seat and pulls you onto him so you were straddling his waist. His hands grip tighter to your hips as you go back to making out with him while you ground on his lap, feeling wetness stain your pants.

You smirked into the kiss as you felt Zemo’s trousers stiffen and a bulge appear as you grinded on him.

“Let go of me Zemo,” you sigh as you pull away from the kiss, hesitantly Zemo lets go of your waist curious to see what you were planning. It was hard positioning yourself with the limited space you two had in the car, but you sat on your knees, pushing his legs apart as you settled between them. You reach up and tug down the zip on his trousers, exposing his boxers. Zemo sits back and watches you as you tug them down, exposing his member.

Already some pre-cum had leaked from it, which you gladly licked up, running your tongue along its side. You traced the vein that stuck out, feeling it pulse against your tongue. Teasing him, you flick your tongue over the tip, hovering your lips just around it but not going further.

Zemo finally moves, impatiently he grasps your hair in his hand and pushes you down onto his member, making you take all of him. He lets out a groan, his eyes fluttering shut as he rolls his head back as he felt the heat of your tongue on his member. You suck your cheeks in to give him more pleasure as he pumps your head up and down so that his member could go in as far as it could.

You grasp his tights to position yourself better. You could feel aching between your legs as you longed for more, but at the moment all you wanted to do was please him. Zemo pushed your head faster, grunting, feeling pleasure swarm over him. He then suddenly pulled you off his member, grabbing your arms he lifted you, getting off the seat and pushing you on so you were lying down on your back.

“Forgive me little one” he purrs as his hands roughly grasp at your trousers and quickly pushes them down, exposing your pants. “I need to feel inside you” He runs his finger up them chuckling feeling the wetness soaking through.

“Do you have a condom?” he asks, looking in your eyes, “We don’t need one” you gasp, the urge to feel him swarming you.

“As you wish,” he says, immediately pushing your pants aside and slipping into you.

You moan feeling him stretch you out but as soon as he was in you he drew back almost completely out of you but snapped his hips back into you. He thrusts with all the strength he has, pushing your body up and down on the seat.

You wrap your hands around his back, your nails digging into his back as your body moves up and down with him. His head settles on your shoulder, where he leaves hickies. Every time he pulls back from kissing and biting you he would whisper things in Sokovian that you couldn’t understand but you were sure were endearing.

His fingers snaked down to find your clit and rubbed it, sending shock waves of pleasure to your brain. You let out a loud moan as you felt the knot in your stomach tightening. As if knowing you were close, Zemo's hips thrust deeper into you, hitting the right spot to make you let loose, your walls clamping down on him as you came. He groans into your neck, feeling your walls flutter around him. His thrusts grew more erratic till you could feel him twitch in you and his seed spill into you.

He pants heavily, finally looking you in the eyes. “I love you little one,” he whispers

You smile, placing a kiss on the side of his face, “I love you too... daddy”

He chuckles and finally gets off you.

The car drive after that was comfortable. Zemo liked to drive with one hand on the wheel while the one hand resting on your thigh, as if reminding you, you belonged to him and only him. Hours later, you finally arrived at the memorial.

Holding your hand, Zemo walks up to the sculpture. He speaks to himself in Sokovian first, getting whatever he needs to say off his chest. After that he turns to you, his eyes capturing yours as they were glazed with tears, “The loss of my country, of my family, broke me y/n, but in some twisted way I am not as upset as I was about it before because it led me to you. I don’t blame you for any of it, I know you had nothing to do with the Sokovian attack just like Sam and James. I’m so glad I could spend these last moments with you.”

You look at him confused, “These last moments?”

You suddenly hear footsteps approaching and you quickly spin around, seeing Bucky appearing behind you. Your head snaps back to Zemo. “Zemo what the hell is going on!?”

He smiles sadly at the floor, then back at you, grabbing your hands. “I’m afraid I must ask something hard of you y/n. Please, can you leave”

The breath left your lungs; it felt as if your entire chest dropped hearing his words.

“... What,”

“I don’t want you to witness what must happen next,”

Your gaze flickers from Bucky who was standing back letting you two have your moment to Zemo who looked desperately at you.

“I’m not leaving you, Zemo,” you state

“Y/n…”

“NO!” you shout

“Y/n I-” Bucky says walking forward, but one death glare from you quickly shuts him up.

“How could you ever ask something of me like that, especially after... after everything that has happened,”

“I should have told you y/n, I’m sorry, but I needed to spend these last moments with you because you are so special to me, I didn’t want to ruin the moment by telling you what was to come,” tears gush from your eyes as you shake your head at him, He steps closer to you, holding your head in his hands, using his thumbs to wipe away your tears.

“And because I love you, I don’t want you to see this. You know there is no other way out of this. It has to happen, and it’s okay, I’m ready. Just like I could with my wife, I know you’ll be able to move on and find someone who will give you everything I can’t and never will because you deserve so much better than me,”

“I love you,” you whisper, the hot tears spilling down your cheeks. Your eyes examine every detail of his face, trying to ingrain everything in your mind.

“I love you little one,”

He pulls you into one last kiss, gentle, but the romantic moment drowned in sadness.

You pull away. Turn around. You don’t look at him. You can’t because you know if you do you won’t be able to leave. You glare at Bucky though you know as well as Zemo it isn’t his fault. You walk a slight distance, just enough so that they are out of sight, and then you collapse on the floor.

Your hands into the ground, pulling at the dirt as you let all your pain out, trying to hold in your sobs. How is it you had fallen for that man so quickly? You loved him; you had risked giving him your heart, and he was pulled so quickly from you. You felt betrayed; he didn’t tell you what he was planning, but you couldn’t bring yourself to hate him for it either.

You don’t know how long you stayed there, but you opened your eyes when you felt a shadow fall over you. Looking up, you saw one member of the Dora Milaje looking down at you.

Your eyes widen in surprise, and then you gasp, connecting the dots. “Zemo'' you whisper, jumping off the ground and running back to where you last saw him. Sure enough, as you arrived you saw him being escorted to the Dora Milaje aircraft.

Hearing your footsteps, Zemo glances over at you. Sadness flickers in his eyes as he stops walking to look at you, but they grasp his shoulder, forcing him to look forward and to keep moving. You watch as they escort him away, till you couldn’t see him anymore.

Bucky walks over to you, looking at the floor guiltily.

“I’ll see him again,” you tell Bucky

“y/n I don’t think-”

“I’ll see him again, Bucky. You can count on that”

Taglist: @sinister-sleep @cable-kenobi @faustlyaccused @chipster-21 @icarusinstatic @yallgotkik @montypythonsholysnail @bunniwritesx @checkurwindow @huntheimpossible @jayxkelsi @avgravy @prestigious-tea @wonderwoman292 @there-goes-thefighter @multiyfandomgirl40 @freyjasamael @ineffablebean @aloyssia @hannahbal-the-fannibal

(I can't tag some of you, I'll keep trying but maybe check your invisibility)

#zemo #helmut zemo #baron zemo #zemo x you #zemo fluff #zemo fanfic #zemo smut #zemo imagine #zemo x y/n #i love zemo #zemo x reader #tfatws #marvel #daniel brühl #mcu

[thespoonisvictory]

excerpt from my “niki and wilbur secret city healing fic” that I will never actually finish:

“You’re not eating.”

It’s Niki, standing in the doorway, a plate of food tucked to her side, eyes narrowed and posture stiff.

“Yes, I am.”

It’s Wilbur, facing the wall, slouched on a bed, in that grimy coat he refused to be without.

“No, you’re not.”

It’s them, somewhere between open hostility and practiced ambivalence, a sad parody of a bond once inseparable. It’s them, unable to carry a full conversation. It’s them, alone, in Niki’s city, where Niki begs him to heal and Wilbur begs to leave.

Niki sighed, pushing forward into the room. “You need to eat, surely you’re not dense enough to forget that.”

“I have been.” Wilbur snaps, but it lacks any sort of fire. Increasingly prominent cheekbones, clothes that hung looser with every passing day, and the dullness of his eyes and hair betrayed him, and they were both aware. The wounds that littered his body refused to recover, and every action was done so with a tired resignation.

“Don’t lie to me.” Niki takes another step forward. “You were never any good at it.”

It was true. The honeyed words that hid him from others never managed quite as well for her. It was too easy to see her friend underneath the persona, the earnestness and raw, organic smile he flashed to her when others weren’t looking.

 It had made her feel special, then, to be privy to the most undone version of him. To feel known and to know, without reservation. To be the subject of sleep-deprived rambles on the floor of her bakery, a pastry and warm drink between them. To hear his new obsessions, to have facts pulled out of her like strings plucked on a guitar. To be something lovely and untouched, together, a friendship unmuddied by the ever-present politics weighing on their shoulders.

Now, it makes her feel lied to.

She watches his shoulders shrug in acknowledgement, and he slowly turns to face her. The movement seems almost painful, a slow and awkward rearranging of limbs, and he refuses to meet her eyes.

“Why do you care, then?” Wilbur rasped, quiet.

“I don’t.” Niki lied. “But Phil wouldn’t take kindly to me letting his son die of starvation.”

His face tightened, almost imperceptibly. The battle won.

“Leave it here, Niki. I’ll eat later.” And a hand outstretched, bones prominent, pale.

On another day, in another world, she would have believed him.

She had believed him, once. Left meals and plates on his desk when he wasn’t looking, waited for them to disappear. It had made her feel needed, wanted. To know that she was the one helping him, indulging his long shifts and hours spent at that old, wooden desk. To be thanked, silently, with wildflowers left in her bakery, with little gifts to amuse her, with contact, trusting, hands held and hair fixed, buttons done up with care.

Now, it felt like a test. A reference point, to check that they were still bound together. Now, she didn’t believe him.

“Eat it now.” Niki’s voice held steady, thankfully.

She wanted the exchange over with, painless.

But Wilbur froze, hand retreating quickly. He swallowed, throat bobbing.

“No.”

“What?” Niki questioned, bitter. “Just take the food, Wil.” The nickname fell flat on her tongue.

“No.” He repeated, more fervently than before.

“Why?” Another step forward.

“I said no, Niki. I’ll eat it later.”

“And I said, tell me why.” Another, and another, until they were close enough that she heard his sharp intake of breath.

She leaned down to meet his gaze, and was met with not the fire she was expecting, but an unfiltered desperation. A fear.

“Don’t make me say it. Just leave the food, please.” Wilbur’s voice shook, laced with a vulnerability she had heard so few times.

He had recounted the button room to her, one night. He had walked into her bakery earlier to be met with Eret, his fingers covered in flour. His face had dropped and he had walked out immediately, stony, leaving Niki to wonder what happened. There they had sat, wine-drunk, under the stars, under darkness that allowed his features to relax and his words to be honest.

It was decidedly one of her favorite versions of her friend, sentences soft and mumbled like poetry as he recounted why he paled at the sight of her new friend, eyes shining with unshed tears. She wondered if he remembered that.

“Tell me.” 

She just wanted to leave.

Wilbur’s voice softened. “It’s poisoned, isn’t it?”

“What?” Of the reasons she was suspecting, this was not one.

“I- I don’t know for sure, but I can’t trust it.” His voice wavered, trying to maintain composure. “What if you poisoned it? What if you slipped it in, decided to get rid of me?”

“Wil, I-”

“I can’t go back there, Niki.” His hands grabbed the fabric making up his quilt, brow furrowed. “I won’t go back there. I’m sorry, but I can’t.”

Shocked, Niki tentatively moved past him, sat down on the mattress, set down the plate. The silence lay steadily as she grasped for words.

“It’s not poisoned. I could never- would never do that to you.”

“I would, if I were you.” A confession, quiet. “I’d want me dead too.”

A deep sadness settled into Niki’s gut, replacing the anger she had always carried. “I don’t want you dead, Wil. I want you to heal.” She paused. “I want my friend back.”

“I’m right here.” A plea, even quieter. For what, she didn’t know.

“Just- eat, please. You might feel better.”

A phrase repeated so many times before. She had offered him food countless times in Pogtopia, pressed fruits and dried meat into his hands, concerned for his tired eyes and jerky movements. He had accepted, if rarely. It had made her feel accomplished. To know that she had done what his brothers could not. To know she had made a difference, perhaps, to know that the last remnants of before were not yet gone. To be partners in crime again, if fleeting.

“I can’t.” 

Niki sighed.

She picked up a slice of bread off the plate, thick, filled with herbs and nuts. Watching his eyes follow her, she raised it to her mouth, taking a bite. She swallowed.

His eyes widened slightly as she offered it out to him, fingers betraying him in the subtle way they reached out, wanting.

Without warning, he grabbed it, holding it tentatively. After a pause, he took a bite as well. And another. Another. Within minutes, the slice was gone. 

Suddenly, Niki was stifling a laugh, a smile dancing on her face. Wilbur turned to her, innocently confused, his eyes wide.

“What?” He questioned, and oh his tone was light.

She couldn’t contain it anymore, and burst out laughing, giggling, doubled over. The ridiculousness of it all got to her, and the tension broke as he started smiling despite himself.

“It was good bread!” He protested.

Niki went to stand up. “I have more, if you want.”

But Wilbur waved his hand, shook his head. “No, I’m like, very full right now.”

She nodded, another chuckle escaping her. Without thinking about it, she leaned into his shoulder, pressing them together like she always had.

For a moment, it all felt so normal again. Like they had slid right back into familiar camaraderie, teasing, shedding the weight that had plagued them. It could have been minutes or hours theu sat there, both of them soaking in the contact.

“Later tonight, then.”

“Yeah.” His voice was still small, but soft, stable, almost drowsy.

Wilbur confirmed her suspicions as he spoke. “I’m really sleepy, for some reason.” His posture was more relaxed than she had seen it in years.

“Go to bed, then.” Niki suggested.

He nodded, but his eyes were dark.

“Can you?” She prompted.

“Not usually.” Mumbling, as always. “I just lay there, mostly, thinking about my evil plots, scheming. You know the deal.” 

“Try. You might be lucky this time.”

He huffed. “Ok.”

Niki stood, ready to leave, but paused. “Let me take your coat, Wil.”

Wilbur stilled, and she was so sure he would say no, reject the offer. But after a moment, he began shrugging it off, shedding the mottled fabric.

He offered it out to her, and as she took it she could feel the familiar weight, draping it over her arm. 

He looked so much smaller this way. Sat on the guest bed, hair rumpled, dressed simply in a white button down, he looked younger, too, less official.

“I’ll be back in a few hours, I have some errands to run. Business to attend to. I’ll bring some more of that bread, too.”

Wilbur nodded, eyes blinking slowly as he yawned.

She turned around, pausing in the doorway to see her friend one last time. She shut the door gently.

#nihachu #wilbur soot #dream smp #fanfiction #me procrastinating the loh fic go brr

[stormblessed95]

Hi storm. First of all thank you so much for answering to all the asks so well. I really appreciate your positive approach. Also you never say things without any legit link or proof. So that's really commendable. Please keep up the good work. I want to know yesterday a few tkkrs said tkk went home in the same car which later got proved wrong, they took separate cars. But Jikook didn't travel together either, JK went alone and JM with Namjoon. Do you think they are still together or they are still a couple? Please don't hate me, I'm a new jikooker, I love their bond, but so many ppl are saying they grew distant, do you think it's possible they broke up?

Please have a lovely day and take care! 💕

Hello, thank you for the kind words. I'll answer this since you are new and seem truly just geniune in your ask. I'll also advise you to curate your timeline away from toxic shippers who edit and Manipulate footage or make it seem like any of the members don't like each other. A lot of this can be answered just by going through my old posts. I'll link you to some below. But the short answer here is, I think Jikook are absolutely fine and there has been nothing in any of their interactions together that make it look like they are a couple who are trying to find a working relationship again after a break up. They seem find and you can feel and see the emotional intimacy and connection between them in any interactions we do see.

This anon explained it well just recently with the car sharing and other moments that I added briefly onto:

I was a little more rude in this response to someone insisting KM have broke up in 2021, but it includes their NY moments just recently which also showcased their emotional intimacy that is still there and still thriving, the way they supported each other and looked to each other for comfort through the UN speech especially:

A response to someone saying they have drifted apart during 2021:

Sane thing as above but with black haired Jikook over Summer 2021:

A third ask about Jikook from Butter era being supposedly distant. Here I also talk about how it's normal normal couples to fight and again, discuss the content timeline and how released content works and how we don't see everything that happens during an era until much later usually:

A post that I responded to during the first week or two that I started this blog right after Butter was released about how Jikook have broken up or were heading in that direction:

A post about how there is no discomfort or panic between Jikook whenever they interact together which is some weird agenda spread by other shippers (mostly tkkrs) who try to invalidate jikooks bond in an effort to prove their ship:

My response to chronically insecure jikook shippers during an ask a while ago:

Why watching original content and not just clips from shippers can help erase that insecurity:

My response here to this ask for someone who was insecure over Jikook because they acted too much like a couple sometimes and what if they truly are just acting:

And because fanservice in regards to Jikook get brought up a lot by new and insecure jikooker... No, Jikook are not acting and they are not fanservice. That is spread by antis and devalue their bond anyway they can. You can find all those fanservice post series on my masterlist, which I encourage you to check out as well. There is a lot there. I know this is basically just a bunch of links to a bunch of different posts covering way more than you asked for. But I wanted to just go ahead and link to all the times I've talked about this topic. About people who are insecure or who are antis trying to insist to people that Jikook are not close anymore or are distant. It's tiring to have the same conversation over and over again. This is again, nothing towards YOU, anon. I will be adding this post with all these links to my masterlist so I can send others here or they can find it on their own next time someone else has an insecurity over their bond ask for me. Makes it easier on me too. Lol

Thank you for your ask. Thank you for being kind about it and seeming like you genuinely care for my answer. Hope all this helps and doesn't overwhelm you or anything. Feel free to come back and ask any follow up questions or any others you may have. And welcome to the fandom 💜💜💜

#jikook #kookmin #insecure jikook shippers #jikook in 2021 #jikook are fine and thriving

[ghost-like-pale]

no need to hide from me

info: philza finds out about your scars. not that he's mad, he's just surprised. 》 they/them 》 irl + platonic 》 1.5k words

warnings: explicit selfharm, blood, hurt/comfort, implied father/child-like bond

a/n: my first piece, i don't know how i feel about it.

this blog it meant as a way of coping with trauma/mental issues, please don't report it. if you don't want to see what i write, please just block me.

——♤——

"kgh-"

you felt the pain run through your body as the blood slowly dripped past your forearm onto your thigh. a sharp inhale went through your airpipe into your aching lungs.

"ack-!"

the small razorblade slid over your troubled skin for the fifth time these past 2 minutes, hoping no one would hear your small choked sobs from the echoing bathroom.

after letting the pain simmer down you get welcomed coldly by numbness. it never fails to meet you after a cut.

this meet-up has been nice, enjoyable, even. but the guilt of not being able to be as hyperactive as tommy and tubbo, the embarrassment of not understanding what wilbur was talking about and the shame of accidentally saying something stupid and phil laughing at it gave you a reason to punish yourself.

—

you didn't eat much during dinner, even though it was your favorite meal - kristen even cooked for everyone. that's exactly when phil knew something was wrong.

you excused yourself from the table and walked upstairs to the room you resided in. after the others moved on from the dinner table to the living room phil decided to go after you, telling kristen to heat up a plate of food and join the rest of their friends. kristen understood, and walked to the kitchen to grab a plate. phil quietly yet swiftly made his way upstairs.

—

you heard the stairs being climbed from the other side of the walls, widening your eyes and making you panic. the blade you were holding was stained with a mix of old and fresh blood. the tiny drops of dark-red liquid splashed on your leg once again. in a panic you threw the razor to the corner of the room and wiped the blood of your body hastily. you pulled your sleeves over your hands and hid them from sight, hoping the new cuts wouldn't bleed through the fabric.

"(y/n)?"

phil knocked on the door to your room. you wipe your face entirely, trying to physically get rid of your anxious expression and answered phil's call.

"come in!"

you sounded grossly happy, making you cringe internally. you trapped your hands between your legs while feeling the mattress sinking next to you.

"you okay? you didn't eat much earlier."

phil wasn't stupid; he knew you weren't. he wanted to see if you would confess to him on your own terms.

"oh, yeah. i'm okay, just didn't feel too hungry, heh."

the small laugh you exuded only worsened phil's concerns.

"(y/n), i'm not sure i believe you. you can trust me."

your panic grew by the second, not wanting to worry phil, yet desperately wanting to tell him. you didn't have the words for it and your brain is not going to bother finding them - it was too busy trying not to cry.

"phil, i promise i'm alright. i just wasn't hungry and i'm worn out from the things we did."

phil exhaled through his nose. what the hell was he going to ask you now?

you bit your lip harshly, trying to focus on the pang of hurt coursing through your mouth rather than your head.

"listen, (y/n). i know you better than this. you can tell me what's wrong-"

before he could properly finish his sentence you stood up. you screwed your eyes shut and yelled at him.

"I SAID I'M FINE, PHIL!"

phil was taken aback by the sudden and intense hostility you showed.

"i'm...i-i.."

you slowly came to a realisation as to what happened. your lips sputtered unintelligible words and your eyes spilled out tears. phil quickly came to his senses and stood up as well. his arms wrapped around your upper arms and shoulders, his head resting on top of yours.

"it's okay, (y/n). i'm not mad, i promise."

you didn't respond. you only sobbed louder and pushed your face into his chest, finding safety in his secure embrace. you stood like this for a bit, calming down over time until the sobs from earlier were nothing more than hiccups.

"are you okay to talk about it now?"

phil eventually spoke up. you nod slowly, pulling away from the hug and letting yourself fall onto the bed you sat on a while ago, phil following your lead.

"what's wrong, kid?"

you let out a shaky breath and let go of the sleeve you were holding onto tightly during the conversation. you grabbed the end of your sleeve and tried to pull it up, but to no avail.

you couldn't. you couldn't show him yourself.

you whined softly, trying to think of a solution. phil rested his hand on your thigh as a way of non-verbal support, giving you an idea. you dropped your arm onto phil's hand, him instantly understanding what you meant and grabbing your arm gingerly. he placed it on his lap and carefully peeled off the sleeve.

"oh, (y/n)."

it was a sight to behold; a bloodied arm with messy cuts, a few still dribbling slightly, most of your skin covered in the half-dried crimson fluid.

refusing to look at phil, you stared at the wall on the other side of the room. you could feel his eyes staring daggers at it, your face heating up in shame and vulnerability.

"i'm so sorry, (y/n)."

you felt your sleeve being pulled over your arm again and you were pulled into another embrace. this time the hug felt sympathetic, like it was apologizing to you for everything you've ever been through, saying sorry for the fact you had to do this as a way to live with yourself.

if you had anything left, you could've cried for hours. but your tears ran out a while ago, so you stayed quiet, with the exception of a few whimpers and sighs.

"thank you for telling me."

phil broke the silence again, a small smile appearing on your tear-stained face.

"but- we should really clean up that arm. you don't want that to get infected."

he said with a hint of a chuckle. it was kind of nice hearing him be a little humorous in such a depressing scene.

"yeah, maybe we should."

you responded with the same tone. he grabbed your hand and lead you to the nearest bathroom. he fetched the softest towel he could find and dampened it with lukewarm water. he then turned his attention to you; he dabbed the still open cuts first and cleaning up the freshest blood. then he moved onto the dried blood around it, wiping it carefully, minding the sensitive wounds.

"stay here, i'll get the first-aid kit from the other bathroom."

phil said, before disappearing into the hall outside. you stood on the cold tiles for a few moments, pondering how you even managed to muster the strength to tell anyone. you were glad you did, though.

"i'm back!"

the familiar voice rang through the reverberating room and into your ears, making you turn your head in the door's direction. the smile grew slightly when phil's face entered your vision.

"arm, please."

you did as he asked and handed your arm to him. he took a cream-coloured bandage out of the small bag and gently yet firmly wraps your injured arm.

"thank you, phil."

your smile was persisting while looking at the bandaged arm. phil packed up the first-aid kit and grinned himself.

"you're welcome, kid. now, let's get some clean clothes and a plate of warm food."

—

"PHILZA!"

tommy yelled from the couch he sat on. the rest of the group quickly turned around to greet their friends.

"hi, mate. what are we watching?"

wilbur waved over to you and signaled to come sit next to him. you happily obliged and sat down with a plate in hand. the couch was just big enough to seat 3 people, you, tommy and wilbur occupying said seats. kristen sat on the chair on the left, while tubbo sat on a pillow on the floor with his hand in a bag of crisps.

"no idea, we were just going to choose something."

wilbur answered for him, earning him a smack on the knee from the blonde. phil laughed while lowering himself into a chair on the right side of the couch.

"he asked me, you prick."

"well, you were just too slow."

the two boys bickered back and forth a bit until tubbo spoke up.

"why don't we let (y/n) decide?"

both wilbur and tommy seemed satisfied with that resolution, nodding their heads and verbally agreeing.

"uhm, how about ___."

kristen immediately agreed, so did phil and tubbo. tommy was still a bit bitter about not being the one to choose, but didn't object, the same for wilbur.

"alright, it has been decided!"

—

the movie was quite long, but enjoyable. your dinner was finished and the plate stood on the coffee table, next to an empty glass and a half-eaten bag of crisps.

your head rested on wilbur's shoulder, a fluffy blanket draped over you along with one of his arms. your eyelids were heavy, the light emitting from the tv becoming more distant every second.

a final consious breath escaped your lungs and you finally fell asleep.

the comfort this household has brought you is something you couldn't find anywhere else - you were truly home.

——♤——

thank you for reading, please be nice

masterlist

#dream smp x reader #mcyt x reader #philza x reader #dream smp x you #mcyt x you #philza x you #dream smp x y/n #mcyt x y/n #philza x y/n #dream smp fluff #mcyt fluff #philza fluff #dream smp angst #mcyt angst #philza angst #dream smp fanfiction #mcyt fanfiction #philza fanfiction #philza #dream smp #mcyt

[asimpforarmin]

What Dog the AoT Characters Would Have 💛

Character(s): Armin Arlert, Sasha Braus, Jean Kirstein, Connie Springer, Bertholdt Hoover, & Annie Leonhardt

Genre: Light-hearted, modern!au

Warnings: Mentions of animal neglect/abuse, some dog breeds commonly perceived as scary, cursing

A/n: I usually include Mikasa in my headcanons, but I just forgot until last minute that she existed ;-; so, sorry for not including her. If someone requests it, I’ll add her to the list.

💛 Armin

His parents got him a beagle puppy for one of his birthdays and he got so attached to it. He was so grateful that he had a dog and absolutely treasures him.

Named him Buddy because he’s his little sidekick and is always fun to play with and snuggle up to.

Buddy almost never shuts up though. A bird flies past the window? He starts barking. A truck goes by? Goes bonkers. He sees himself in the mirror? Shooketh.

Whenever Buddy starts going crazy, Armin picks him up, takes him away from whatever’s bothering him and scratches behind his ears. That makes Buddy practically melt into Armin’s arms and it’s so adorable. 💕

Buddy is very protective over Armin, or as protective as a dog his size could be. He always barks at the doorbell and is very wary of strangers.

If you walk into Armin’s house and Buddy has never seen you before, Armin will be sitting in a chair holding a dog who’s glaring into your soul.

You and Armin will try to have a normal conversation while Buddy is snarling and growling at you with Armin just patting his head and making an expression that says he deals with this all the time.

After a couple visits, Buddy is still tense around you but unwinds once you start playing with him.

Whenever Armin’s studying or working, Buddy will jump up into his lap and snuggle with him.

Sometimes when Armin falls asleep at his desk, he’ll have his arms on the table and Buddy in his lap.

When he’s in the car, Buddy tries to bite cars through the window. He just growls and bangs the glass with his teeth before Armin stops him from chipping a tooth.

Just how Buddy is protective of Armin, Armin’s protective of Buddy.

If someone talks shit about his dog, he’ll get sad about it. Buddy doesn’t deserve to be treated like that, he never hurt anyone.

Buddy can’t be taken to the park because he just agitates other dogs. He never gets along with them and never lets his guard down.

Buddy’s also one of those dogs who gets really dramatic. One time he was laying on the couch with his ball and it rolled off so he just started howling.

It’s also really hard to trim his nails without him growling, even though he’d never bite anyone.

Once Buddy has calmed down around someone, he’s fun to just hang around.

Armin likes to sit on the couch reading with Buddy on his lap or beside him. He’s great to study with or have around.

💛 Sasha

Adopts a 5-year-old blue greyhound from her local shelter.

She’d been volunteering there for a while when the greyhound came in and just couldn’t resist.

With greyhounds being bred to hunt and Sasha coming from a family who has a hunting background, it seemed like a match made in heaven.

She bought her and gave her a bright pink collar with a little dog bone tag with her name etched in it.

Since greyhounds’ necks are so long, she gives her a big knitted scarf to wear in the winter to keep her all nice and cozy.

Was torn between naming her Snickerdoodle or Candy because they’re both cute names and are both foods, but ended up naming her Pumpkin because she couldn’t decide and Pumpkin’s a really cute name as well.

Sasha loves playing fetch with her and it’s so fun because Pumpkin can run really fast, really far.

Pumpkin almost never barks unless she’s having fun or there’s someone at the door.

Sasha’s bed is lofted by a couple feet for storage and Pumpkin has no problem getting on and off her bed.

The first time Pumpkin saw Sasha’s bed, she didn’t know what to do so just sat there looking up at Sasha. It took a couple minutes for her to realize Sasha patting the bed meant she could jump onto it.

Sasha allows her dog on any of the furniture so there’s short hairs all over the couch no matter what.

Pumpkin’s really kind and gentle around kids so Sasha can basically take her anywhere. She’s super well behaved but sometimes scares people because she jumps in excitement.

Sasha also shares her food with her dog all the time. Always packs extra whenever she goes somewhere so she can give some to Pumpkin.

If you moved in with Sasha, Pumpkin would take to you right away.

She would literally be so sweet and always make you happy all the time. 😭💕

Plays tug of war and fetch a lot with you.

If you’re working/eating at a desk, she’ll lean her head on your leg until you pet her or give her food, or both.

Overall, Pumpkin is so sweet and adorable. She will always cheer you up when you need it and always has enough energy to play.

💛 Jean

Adopted a pitbull who is now 6, but was brought into a fighting ring when he was 4.

He knew it would be a challenge to help an abused dog but wanted to give him a good home.

When he first saw him, he was covered in scars and missing part of his ear.

He named him Kane. He’s a beautiful deep reddish-brown color with a white belly.

From the first moment they met, there was a connection. Kane warmed up to Jean quite quickly for a dog who’s been through so much.

Jean took him home and slowly introduced him to lifestyle changes, like going for walks or taking baths.

He introduces him to other dogs too. Kane showed a little hostility in the beginning, but once he realized they weren’t threats he was fine being around them.

Jean pays top dollar for him. Any issue he has, he takes him to the vet and gets it fixed up. He also gets the best food for him because that’s what he deserves.

Kane loves going for car rides. Sometimes Jean will get in the car with him, no destination in mind, and just drive.

Jean rolls the window down and Kane pokes his head outside. His mouth opens and because of the wind going into it, he showers the window behind him in slobber.

Kane absolutely loves swimming. He’s quite good at it, but Jean still takes a lot of safety precautions, such as a life jacket or shallow water because pitbulls are known to be somewhat bad swimmers.

Every summer, Jean takes out a kiddie pool and lets Kane splash around in it.

He also really likes to turn on the hose or sprinkler and aim it at Kane. He jumps up to bite the water and they both have a great time.

It can be a problem though because when Jean’s trying to fill the pool up, Kane keeps batting the hose with his paw or trying to eat the water and Jean has to get him to relax.

Other than his little quirks, Kane’s a relatively chill dog. He’s alright with being dressed up in costumes or having to wear a cone.

Every halloween, Jean gets both of them a matching costume and they sit on the porch to give kids candy.

Jean also lets the kids pet Kane because over time, he gets very welcoming of people and other dogs he doesn’t know.

Long story short, Kane’s not the dog you want to protect your house, if someone broke in, he’d just start wagging his tail and not be able to tell what’s going on.

💛 Connie

Saw how cool Jean’s dog is and also wanted a badass and cool breed.

He ended up adopting a doberman pinscher.

Like Jean’s dog, she looks strong and intimidating.

Unlike Jean’s dog, she acts the complete opposite of how she looks.

She’s often quite jittery or seems scared. Whenever someone even remotely raises their voice, her ears go down and she lowers her head.

You and Connie often have to give her tons of pets and appreciation after shouting, whether it’s good or bad shouting.

She’s also a total cuddlebug. She loves to be on Connie’s lap 24/7 and sleeps right next to him, watching over him.

Because of her timid personality, Connie named her Lily. It’s a sweet and innocent sounding name. Even though he sought her out to be a “cool” dog, she’s super sweet and didn’t want to name her something that conflicted with who she really was.

One thing about Lily is she loves running. Connie likes to skateboard alongside her as she pulls him along. It’s not much effort for her because Connie’s lightweight and uses his feet a lot. Plus, the area they live is pretty flat, so they often do.

Lily has a hard time understanding what is and isn’t a toy. One time she nearly chewed off one of the sofa legs. Next time Connie sat on it, it snapped and then he figured out Lily was behind it.

After that, he trained her to know everything he puts in her basket is a toy, but everything else isn’t. Then, she used the basket as a toy.

She goes through toys lightning quick.

Every time you or Connie give her a new stuffed animal, it takes approximately .2 seconds for it to be torn to shreds.

Connie loves to take her to PetSmart and let her pick out toys in-store.

If she chooses a toy that means Connie won’t need to guess what she likes and what she doesn’t.

One time she chose one of those scented rope toys, but once Connie took the packaging off, she started acting weirdly.

Once he gave it to her, she started barking at it and whacking it with her paw.

Connie was super confused so he threw it and she chased after it like normal, but once she got close to it she started acting scared of it and barking.

It’s been like that ever since now so they just don’t play with that toy.

Lily doesn’t bark that often. She usually only barks from excitement or when she meets someone new.

She also doesn’t have the zoomies that much so she’s a really relaxed dog to hang with.

💛 Bertholdt

Bertholdt saw his neighbors packing their stuff in a van one day and leaving but saw they left their samoyed leashed up outside.

He wanted to hold out hope that they were just going out somewhere for a bit so waited the rest of the night but found the dog still chained up the next morning in the rain.

He was never close to his neighbors and didn’t want any confrontation so he went up and knocked on the door, checking if anyone was home.

No surprise, they weren’t so he cautiously made his way over to the dog.

It was so happy to see someone and started licking his hand right away.

He unchained the dog and led it into his house where he gave it a nice warm bath and some food.

While bathing her, he took off her collar, with the neighbor’s number and address engraved in it along with her name, Mavis.

While Mavis was eating he called the number he found on her tag. He explained that the dog looked like it was left there on purpose so he took it in until they got home. They just said they didn’t want her anymore and hung up, which broke Bertholdt’s heart.

So he took her to the vet, got some pet things because he hasn’t owned a pet previously and she became a big part of his life.

She clings to him everywhere and won’t ever leave his side. Almost never barks and is super good on a leash.

Bertholdt takes her to the dog park a lot, Mavis is very social and has made a lot of friends there.

Mavis has quite the habit of rolling around in the mud or dirt though so Bertholdt has to give her a bath quite often.

Bertholdt absolutely cannot contain the dog hair. There is so much of it and it’s everywhere, went through like 3 lint rollers in the first week.

He spoils her rotten. Whenever he goes shopping he gets her new treats and toys because he swore to do right by her when her old owners didn’t.

If you were brought into the equation, Mavis would love you unconditionally. She’ll be there to give you high-fives and cuddle with you.

She is the softest thing on the planet so the cuddles are amazing. If you and Bertholdt sleep together, she’ll plop herself right in between the both of you so she could get attention until you fall asleep.

Whenever she needs something but isn’t up, she licks your face until you give her what she wants.

Even though she can get quite hot in the summer, she always wants to cuddle and loves to do it, whether it’s with you or Bertholdt.

💛 Annie (normally I don’t write for her but I couldn’t get this scenario out of my head)

Hitch gave her a chihuahua for her birthday even though she never remotely hinted at wanting a dog.

She didn’t want to return it though and oddly liked it, even though she never asked for him.

Just calls him “Dog” for a bit since she doesn’t know what to name him.

He’s a tan deer head dog so Annie gives him the name “Biscuit” after a couple weeks.

It’s super generic but she doesn’t think he needs any fancy name and he looks like a biscuit so 🤷🏻‍♀️

She has one of the backpacks with a compartment to fit a dog.

She likes to put Biscuit in there and take him out when she goes out.

When Annie takes him out, Biscuit is usually pretty chill, aside from giving a couple glares to random people.

Sometimes he even falls asleep in her backpack.

Whenever someone pisses Annie off, Biscuit senses it. Annie isn’t usually one to get into a full-blow fight and be loud, so Biscuit is her volume. Whenever she starts going off, he starts growling and barking.

And when she does get loud, both of them are yelling and screaming so that often deters the other person.

When she first got Biscuit, Annie didn’t really pay that much attention to him. She’d be on the couch and whenever he came up to her with a ball or toy, she’d throw it.

Then as she started to get used to him, she started to like him more.

Nowadays, she sometimes chases him around the house with a smile on her face and it’s so adorable, especially because she doesn’t smile all too often.

Biscuit is relatively calm, even for a chihuahua. He can often be seen on the couch on his back with his tongue out laying in the sun.

Speaking of being on the couch, originally Annie wanted to keep him off all furniture but soon realized he simply wouldn’t stay off and she didn’t want to bother to train him not to.

Now, they share almost everything. She sleeps with him next to her, they relax on the couch together, and sometimes she even brings him up on one of the kitchen chairs and they share food together.

Biscuit hates her alarm clock with a passion. If Annie doesn’t wake up from the alarm, she wakes up from the high pitched barks of her dog wanting her to turn it off.

Once the two are close, they are bonded for life and can be seen everywhere together.

#attack on titan #attack on titan x reader #Armin Arlert x Reader #Armin x Reader #Sasha Braus x Reader #Sasha x Reader #Jean Kirstein x Reader #Jean x Reader #Connie Springer x Reader #Connie x Reader #Bertholdt Hoover x Reader #Bertholdt x Reader #Annie Leonhardt x Reader #Annie x Reader

[y0itsbri]

Hi Bri 🥰

C-16 if you'd like to 👀

Coffee dates and disasters

au with college!lip and barista!mandy where ian is a frequent visitor at the campus café and meets mickey under rather unfortunate circumstances. don't cry over spilled milk, buddy.

which also fits under a.u.gust for @gallavichthings

words: 2.4k

"never would have thought you the type to come to one of these places," ian mused, looking around the small café with only lamps and string lights illuminating the space. "can't believe college changed you, man," ian clutched at his heart dramatically.

"don't worry. 'm still the annoying bastard you love so dearly," lip squeezed ian's shoulder before he sauntered up to the counter.

the barista's bored expressed brightened when she saw them. her perky demeanor was matched by a high pitched voice, "hey lip," she smiled, dark lipstick striking. she appraised ian with a somewhat predatory eye, "hello, lip's friend."

"uh, brother," ian coughed.

lip rolled his eyes, "and he's gay so don't even try it, mandy."

she pouted and flicked her hair behind her shoulder, "not that it's any of your business, anyways."

ian chuckled besides him, drawing another smile out of mandy, this one kinder, sweeter.

"what can i get you boys?"

the pink highlights glistened in her dark hair as she whipped up lip's cold brew and ian's caramel macchiato, then proceeded to insist that this one is on the house. neither of them argued, but thanked her before they settled down in some stools by the window.

"fucking the barista privileges?" ian asked, raising his eyebrow at his slut of a brother.

"i think of it more like fellow south sider charity," he rubbed his bottom lip, "but yours works too," lip smirked around the edges of his coffee cup.

"you're an idiot."

"can a man who got us free drinks really be deemed an idiot?" lip philosophized.

ian paused, taking a moment of thorough consideration. he looked lip straight in the eyes as he answered, "if that man is you, then without a doubt."

lip tried to knock ian's cup out of his hand, but failed at his attempt. ian thanked his well-practiced jrotc skills and a lifetime experience of growing up in a house packed with annoying siblings for his victory.

they chatted about the robotics classes lip was taking, how he got full-time access to one of the labs, and his weird ass roommate who may or may not be gay if ian is at all interested. ian scrunched up his face. after hearing so many horror stories about the guy, ian didn't want anywhere near him. he wasn't that desperate yet.

the second that lip was out of his seat and heading to the bathroom, the beautiful mess that was mandy descended.

"hiiii lip's gay brother," she leaned against the table.

"it's ian," he spun his empty cup in his hands. he couldn't help himself from smiling at her charisma.

"well hi, ian, i just wanted to say sorry if i spooked you earlier. i just had no idea lip's brother would be so cute!"

"his ugly mug's not too hard to beat." ian laughed. "he got the short end of the gallagher stick, literally."

"cute and charming. you're funny, ian gallagher, i like you." she placed her hand on his shoulder for a moment, a movement so soft compared to her rather frantic appearance. "come back here anytime and it's on the house, yeah? i work most evenings after three."

"oh. uh- okay," ian scrambled for words, "thanks."

she squeezed his shoulder once before lip returned with a rather obnoxious entrance.

"ayo mands, stop harassing him!"

ian ducked his head in embarrassment.

"oh, shut up! i'm just clearing your cups," she winked at ian as she left.

mandy was something else. but she was kind and good company. ian could get used to the chill atmosphere over the chaos of the gallagher house anytime. he might just take up her offer.

--

"you'd think with all the time you spend here, you'd be offered a scholarship or something by now." mandy sipped on her chocolate frappuccino as she laid her feet across ian's lap. he always made sure to come visit during her breaks at least twice a week during the past couple months.

ian shrugged, "guess they only had room for one gallagher."

mandy hit his arm in a way that hurt. lip was fucked if he ever broke her heart.

"does fiona even know that this is where you sneak off to?"

"yeah." mandy's look said she didn't believe him. "well, kinda. she thinks i'm visiting lip, brotherly duties and all."

"yeah? how are those brotherly duties?"

"fuck if i know."

she laughed.

"i still think you should apply here for next fall," she encouraged, "could take some art classes."

"i suck at art."

"chemistry?"

"failed that."

"business?"

"yeah, no thanks."

mandy flipped him off, "fine. botany?

"ya know what? sure." he had always wanted to grow tomatoes.

"really?!"

"heart wants what it wants, mandy. we can't all be psychology brainiacs."

"brains and beauty, what can i say?" she teased. ian laughed, eyes glistening towards his friend. mandy made things better.

"hey," she continued, "there's this concert on the main campus lawn this weekend, you should totally come!"

"isn't that just for students?"

"they don't card, dummy."

"right, right, i knew that."

"sureeee. you in?"

ian mentally checked his work schedule.

"i'm in."

--

lip and ian strolled into the café a few days later. okay, maybe ian had felt a bit guilty for abandoning his brotherly duties lately, but at least this way he could hang out with both his best friends. well he could have if he remembered the fact that mandy had the day off for her behavioral neuroscience midterm. they had literally spent her previous shift reviewing the terms, he should have known.

ian's couldn't help his face from falling as another blonde barista took their orders, mostly eyeing lip the whole time.

"hi lip," she smiled a little too sincerely, "what can i get for you today?"

ian had ordered something new at the recommendation of the blonde and he was not a fan. and to make matters worse, he had to actually pay for the atrocity that he wouldn't even be able to finish.

"so how's your little coffee dates with mandy?" lip asked over his cup.

ian nearly choked on his god-awful americano. "how'd you know?"

"please. she's obsessed with you. every time i see her, it's 'ian this,' 'ian that,' 'ian might apply here in next year.'"

"oh."

"yeah, oh. when were you gonna tell me?!"

“it’s all mandy’s idea, i’m not even sure i want to,” ian muttered, refusing to make eye contact.

“dude, i’ve literally shared a room with you since the day you popped out of monica’s wretched womb, you think I can’t tell when you’re lying?”

okay maybe ian had been getting increasingly more excited about the idea of attending school and actually learning things that he wants to learn. something that might actually lead him somewhere real since rotc was looking more and more like a poor man's fantasy the more that he thought about it.

“I was gonna tell you, swear on it.” and he was. once he convinced himself that lip wasn't going to straight up laugh in his face. but the look in his eye seemed genuinely supportive.

“mhm, i gotta catch my english lit class," lip stood up, swinging his tattered tan backpack across one shoulder. he patted ian's shoulder in his big brother ways, "don’t be a stranger, yeah?”

“yeah, yeah for sure! have fun learning a language you already know!” lip flipped him off at his smartass remark.

soon after, ian stood up to return his drink to the counter, the anxiety from the conversation making him entirely lose whatever appetite he might have had. plus, it wasn’t the same here without lip or mandy. he just wanted to be wrapped up in a cocoon in his own bed. but that was so far away. maybe he could catch an early ride—

thump.

ian crashed into a guy’s sturdy body.

the remnants of his shitty drink spilled in an americano nightmare over both of them, ceramic pieces shattering on the floor in a truly horrific manner.

ian yipped and the other man let out a grunt of irritation.

they were fucking soaked. well, at least the coffee wasn't hot? ian tried justifying the situation, but, nah, this was bad.

"shit! i'm so sorry, lemme," ian reached out and the shorter man flinched away.

they were now far enough apart that ian got a good look at him. a leather jacket.. now covered in ian's drink -- shit. and shockingly piercing blue eyes that lingered too long on ian's before his cheeks turned a shade of pink that made ian's stomach flutter.

he might have seemed cold if he didn’t make ian feel so warm.

"it’s cool, man. i gotta go, uh," and he walked out of the café without looking back.

fuck.

ian smelled like coffee the entire train ride to the back of the yards. he laid in his bed regretting his entire life.

no mandy. no lip. no dignity.

--

the day of the concert that mandy had invited him to rolled around. ian wouldn’t admit it, but he was nervous to spend a coffee-less evening with mandy, their entire friendship built inside that one room. his little bubble of safety was bursting.

well, to be honest, the bubble had burst the moment that his disaster of a coffee was spilled onto one of the most ridiculously pretty guys that he's ever seen. every time he closed his eyes, he remembered the guy’s face shift from hostile to something else. he was torn between wanting to know the his name and also on never seeing him again in fear that he would simply pass away of embarrassment.

hopefully mandy hadn't heard about it. they may not have been friends for a long time, but he already knew that she would never let him live it down.

"hey ian!" her familiar voice called. that sounded promising.

his face fell with relief as he finally spotted her at the corner. she embraced him in a warm hug before pulling back and giving him a once over.

"huh, could have sworn you'd still have coffee behind your ear or something after the description karen gave me of your little disaster the other day." she smirked, quite literally double checking behind his ears as they turned hot under her gaze.

"ugh, fuck, how much did she tell you?" he itched his forehead and scrunched up his nose.

"oh, calm your tits, it's funny as fuck." she giggled, punching his arm in a way that still unintentionally hurt.

"whatever. are you excited for the concert tonight?"

their reunion conversation lulled eventually, and ian noticed that they weren't necessarily standing alone.

no. fucking. way.

just his luck, if he was being honest. he probably deserved this.

there he stood. the man that has plagued his dreams the past few days. in a light wash jean jacket that was a little tight on the biceps, leaning casually against the wall, kicking the pebbles on the ground with his boot.

"uh, what's he doing here?" ian gestured towards the victim of The Coffee Incident.

“what, you know him?” mandy asked, walking them towards him.

“vaguely.” if that wasn’t the understatement of the year.

"huh. i didn’t think my idiot brother had any friends."

brother? how did ian not realize she had a brother?

"what, did you think i was going to babysit you all night? i can't let everyone here thinking you're my boyfriend, no offense or whatever, but you're in good hands!" she kissed his cheek, clearly not helping her own not-looking-like-her-boyfriend rule.

ian eyed said brother's good hands only to see the faded letters of FUCK U-UP on them. oh.

mandy pushed ian over to her brother, "ian, mickey. mickey, ian," she introduced before pushing and shuffling her way through the crowd of college students to find herself someone’s cheap ass fruity alcohol to mooch off of.

mickey. ian's brain repeated over and over, a chime against the murmuring sea of voices they found themselves enveloped by.

"nice jacket," ian pointed out, an awkward attempt to converse before shoving his hands back in his pockets.

"it's my second favorite." the corners of his mouth lifted like there was more to the statement. ian took the bait, as if he could resist.

"what's your first?"

"first is still airing out the fuckin’ coffee smell," he smirked as ian groaned. "oh c’mon, man, don't go crying over spilled milk."

how could he not? on the bright side, he didn’t seemed to hate ian for it.

“if it was anyone else,” mickey drawled, “they’d have to get a beat down for it.”

“why do I get a free pass?” ian mused.

“well, you’re mandy’s friend, right?”

“yup,” ian tried to suppress his disappointment. he really did. but fiona always told him he wore his heart on his sleeve.

“yeah, that ain’t why, though,” his eyebrows waggled suggestively and ian nearly felt his heart drop out of his ass.

ian blessed whatever coffee god was out there for sending him both mandy and the beautiful man in front of him.

“you wanna go listen to the band?” ian nodded his head towards the stage with passionate players jumping around like they were playing lollapalooza or some shit.

“lead the way, stud, just try to keep your drinks off of me this time,” mickey knocked into ian’s own flannel covered shoulder.

yeah, ian couldn’t believe his luck. maybe karma was finally on his side.

—

mandy smirked at her brother and best friend not-so-subtly checking each other out over the course of the night, bopping their heads to the music and downing whatever free booze they could get their hands on.

she hoped that adding mickey to the equation would be enough incentive to convince ian to stick around. things were better when he was near.

the way that ian followed mickey around like a lost puppy with that dopey moon-eyed look, it seemed like her hopes would come true.

and when both ian and mickey strolled into the café to come visit her at work the next week, mickey in his worse-for-wear leather jacket and ian in borrowed denim, she thanks the coffee gods for her luck.

#did i spin this into a whole au instead of just something simple and sweet? of course! #i like reading cheesy shit so i will write cheesy shit #also i hope i didn't unconsciously steal the ideas of anyone else's works -- if so it was unintentional #okay i'm not a ✨writer✨ so it takes me a little bit so actually get some words out -- thank you for the ask! i hope you don't hate it! lol #also mickey never goes in the cafe while his sister is working — hence why ian had never seen him and the other baristas don’t know #his relation to mandy #there's like... not much gallavich??? idk lmfao #my posts #shameless #gallavich #ask #bazgallaghermilkovich #coffee shop au #shameless fanfic #gallavich fanfic #ian gallagher #mickey milkovich #ian x mickey #mandy milkovich #lip gallagher #karen jackson #college lip #barista mandy

[dribs-and-drabbles]

I did not sleep enough last night

As I wake up this morning, I wonder what it's going to be like waking up next Saturday morning. I have become more attached to these characters than I think is healthy at this point. Don't get me wrong, I'll adapt and get over it quick enough...something else will come along to interest (distract) me...and the show will still be there to re-watch but through a different lens, one where I will know the end and will have the distance from it to appreciate all the things which I adored about it as I watched.

Right now, though? I really want to avoid theorising, predicting, hoping...because I think I should step back...pull the emotional threads I have woven from myself into the show away...create some distance so that I can accept whatever ending they give us next week. Will I be able to do that? We'll see...

But before that, I need to get a few things out of my brain to be able to function properly today.

The first is that I think the things that were said between the parents and their sons need to be addressed. The parents have to acknowledge that their actions have had a detrimental affect on their sons. They don't necessarily need to 100% redeem themselves, reconcile and put everything behind them, but there should be a conversation where both sides (parents and child) talk about the situation. And find a way to move forward in their relationship knowing that the truth is out. i just will find it so weird if it's not mentioned, if everything that happened and was said gets brushed under the carpet never to be spoken of again. And if Pat and Pran stop talking. Yes, Pran's parents might transfer Pran again...but why would P&P not stay in touch? Even sending a text every now and then to check in...? And I know it's possible that none of this will get addressed...because Wai's actions never did...so I can see them just...not talking about it...but for me, narratively, that would be so strange. And it would bug me.

And so on to my other thing... This is (hopefully) the last thing I will say about what I hope or might happen in ep 12. But I woke up wondering if we might get the scenario that, IF the families DO talk about the situation, then maybe Pat and Pran 'broke up' in order to start again, without hiding from their parents. Maybe Pat rocks on up to Pran's door one day, dressed up and with a gift, wai's Pran's mother who looks wary but not hostile anymore, and asks her if he can court (hit on, 'date') Pran. Then bit by bit, both families gradually start to open up and accept the other son into their son's life...into their life. Maybe. It's probably not going to happen though...and this is why I can't spend all week talking about it.

But I'm going to make my costume posts as always (because once I start something I have to see it through), and answer asks, but I also have my own life to lead and I've been sort of shirking that in favour of immersing myself in P&P's world. So that needs to stop be reduced.

#bad buddy #this probably comes across as more melancholic than I actually am in reality #I just needed to get it off my chest to get on with my day #gosh I have loved loved these characters this series #and all the wonderful things that Aof has done with it so far #I want to end loving it...but I also need to be able to function after next Friday 😂 #Aof has made a masterpiece regardless of what happens in ep 12 #and for that I'm very very thankful #as am I thankful for this space in this fandom #even though it has taken a LOT of my time up over these past two months #I value and appreciate everything I have gotten out of it #all the amazing creativity of the gif/picture makers #all the incredible meta written by some wonderful people #I will treasure this pocket of my life for years to come #now look at me getting all sentimental #HA! imagine how it's going to be NEXT saturday 😂 #bad buddy series #bad buddy the series #patpran #pat x pran #bad buddy episode 11

[quacka-quacka]

Why was Linda so jealous of Jane? I have already heard several people say this

First and foremost, I must say Linda was a dedicated person who devoted her whole life to Paul after getting married. We shouldn't obliterate her devotion. Not to mention she had some admirable qualities. (I post it here.) However, she's not perfect. For instance, in some occasions, though by no means all, she could be narrow-minded, especially towards those women who have had a relationship with Paul. And Jane seemed to the one she hated most. I would rather believe none of these are true.

Barry Miles, the author of Paul McCartney: Many Years From Now, said on his official website that before writing this biography, he wasn't sure if he could reach Paul because as the one who was close to Jane, he was excluded from Paul's life by Linda:

I wasn’t sure I could even reach Paul. I hadn’t seen him for at least ten years; when Linda came on the scene she made sure that all his old pals that knew and liked Jane were excluded, so I didn’t know how he would react to the idea of a biography.

— Barry Miles [x]

Alistair Taylor also revealed something about Linda's hatred of Jane. I'm sure Taylor's dislike for Linda would affect his judgement, but there are some similarities between his description and Miles's: she wanted to obliterate Jane from Paul's life as much as possible.

One of the first things Linda did at Cavendish when she managed to move in was to have the entire ground floor redecorated. Jane had decorated Cavendish Avenue in exquisite taste. Linda, however, wanted to remove every last trace of Jane from Paul’s life. She didn’t want to hear her name. She didn’t want to see pictures Paul and Jane had chosen remaining around the place. It was like a new regime taking over and wanting to wipe the slate a completely clean.

— Alistair Taylor, With The Beatles

Also, Denny Laine's ex-wife JoJo Laine said that Linda once asked her if she knew Jane Asher. She didn't get along with Linda, though. But Peter Cox, the one who seems to care about Linda, said Linda was quite negative about Jane, although he thought it wasn't in a jealous way. During the writing process of Linda's cooking book, Cox always carried Jane's book to keep Linda's attention:

Linda had spoken to me about Jane Asher, Paul's former fiancee, and while it wasn't in a jealous way, she was quite negative about her. "So I got her book, Jane Asher's Party Cakes, and always carried it with me when I went to Peasmarsh. If she was a bit down, I'd slam it on the kitchen table and it acted as a spur, like a red rag to a bull. In fact, Linda would say, 'Right, let's get going'."

— Peter Cox

Years later, a journalist brought up this story to Paul, Mary and Stella. Instead of getting annoyed, they were quite joyful to hear that. Did Linda often behave like this at home? I don't know.

I say the other thing Peter Cox said is that, throughout the writing process, he kept a copy of Jane Asher’s bestselling book on cakes to hand, so that whenever Linda’s attention flagged, as it was wont to do, he’d take it out and start flicking through it with great interest, and that brought her back into the room. Paul laughs and claps, while Stella says, “That is very funny … Would bring her back into the room!”

— Deborah Ross, The Times: My Date with the McCartneys. (May 06, 2017)

Apart from Jane, Maggie McGivern, the girl who had three years courtship with Paul wasn't welcomed by Linda either. According to Maggie, her relationship with Linda was very intense.

In the early seventies, Maggie began a relationship with another musician, Denny Laine, and after Denny joined Paul’s group Wings she came into contact with Paul again. 

“It was a very emotional meeting and we had a great big hug. We were standing there gripping each other when their was a tap on his shoulder. We turned round and it was Linda. Paul told her who I was and she said she had heard about me. Ther was, of course, an unfriendly atmosphere and we didn’t get a chance to have a real conversation.”

[...]

“He’s a different person when he’s with her. But, to give Linda credit, although we were still uneasy we chatted amiably about horses and things like that. I suppose after years of marriage and several children, there was no need for any nastiness.”

— Maggie McGivern

Although Linda never seemed to directly attack Paul’s ex-girlfriends in the public, (at least I haven't found, yet) she did reveal her attitude towards them. After Denny wrote something unpleasant, Linda said he behaved like Paul’s ex-chauffeur. Well, she certainly thought those girls were inferior.

I thought Denny came off badly. I could see some girlfriend or an ex-chauffeur writing such rubbish, but a musician?

— Linda McCartney, interview with Joan Goodman for Playboy, 1984

It’s understandable that Linda would be hostile to Maggie because her presence maybe a threat to her. But why Jane? She has never appeared beside Paul after since the breakup and she has never revealed her story to public. Let alone Jane was the one who broke up with Paul, she has never showed any intention to get Paul back.

I don’t understand it. I really don’t.

#linda mccartney #jane asher #paul mccartney #maggie mcgivern #paul and jane #paul and linda