#i ripped out every single page and threw it out at one point

[eriexplosion]

Yesterday everyone was posting their feelings on TBB. I'm glad I waited, because there's a lot swirling around. Cut for negativity again.

I was introduced to The Bad Batch in August 2022 and fell instantly in love. The characters, the story, the complex family dynamics, they all spoke to me. I wasn't even a Star Wars fan but I went through and devoured The Clone Wars, Rebels, The Mandalorian, all of it. I threw myself into this world and adored every second of it. I must have rewatched season one over five times before season two even came out.

When season two premiered I loved it. Every Tuesday night I stayed up until the episode drop and devoured it immediately. I looked ahead at the schedule and took days off work for the double episodes, for the big Crosshair episodes - he was my favorite early on and season two only made that grow. But season two also really brought Tech into my radar even more. I had always liked him, but here he was shining. The Crossing really solidified it, as an autistic person. I'd never heard someone describe the difference in processing so succinctly before, so clearly, and it spoke to me like very little had. Here was a character that was like me. Here was a character that I needed when I was an undiagnosed child, someone that would have made me feel like I had at least some way of describing my differences.

Then, well. He died. It was an affecting scene, but it felt out of nowhere, it felt unfinished. Tech didn't even get the climax of the episode. He just fell into the clouds, the Batch grieved for a few minutes, and then the plot steamrolled right along.

I didn't believe it, not after the mad scientist presented his goggles and claimed not to salvage anything else. It seemed like such an obvious fake out. The longer I sat with it the less satisfying it felt. It felt so brushed over, so pointless, all for a mission that they accomplished nothing on. Then came the social media circus. Again and again his fall was shoved in our faces on Twitter, demanding we stream it. TikToks were made that were so out of touch they felt like parodies, the wound ripped open again and again, and I thought surely there had to be a purpose to it.

So I waited for season 3 as interviews were done that seemed to almost intentionally avoid calling him dead. As tweets were made promising we'd be so fulfilled if we could only see who was onscreen in the mid-season! (A tweet that immediately garnered dozens of people hoping it referred to Tech, all without a single comment to try and quell the speculation.) It felt already like we were being toyed with, but I thought it had to be for a reason or a purpose. More weirdly vague discussions went up about his Sacrifice, his Fall, his Anything But Death, even as everyone insists that it was so meaningful, the way he died on a mission that accomplished nothing. Jokes were made around Valentines Day.

He Fell For You, get it?

The first official use of killed went up on the databank right after the trailer, on Hunter's page of all places. The first time the interviews used dead was the Friday before the premier. It all felt too late, theories had already grown for months by that point.

Season 3 finally came and I waited up for every episode drop just like I did for season 2, hoping for him to come back or at least for him to be properly grieved, since we had barely a couple of minutes in Plan 99 before it was swept away for the next plot point. Surely Tech's impact deserved an episode of focus, if he were really gone.

The previously on plays his last words twice. But then we skip months into the future. We don't see Crosshair find out the news - even though Tech died on a mission to retrieve him. We don't watch Omega grieve. She barely seems to notice she's missing a brother. We got a brief allusion in episode two. It took three episodes to even mention his name in passing. Five episodes in everyone got their chance to look sad about him, but only for a few seconds and only when his skills were relevant. Compared to the gorgeous callback to Mayday in the same episode, it felt shallow. He had to have been more important than this didn't he?

Episodes 6 & 7 felt like maybe there was a reason. We see a new masked assassin that gets extra focus, who got put through a series of Tech-adjacent situations, whose beef with Crosshair was just a little too personal, who survived longer than all the rest but stayed masked. Rex talks about losing brothers, but Hunter says nothing about the brother they lost. I hoped it all meant something, that this was the reason that he felt so much like he was thrown away, so that he could come back in.

More one off mentions that only really come up when it's about how useful Tech would have been. More poking at the wound that still felt open and raw because we'd never gotten any closure. The closest we get is a single scene in episode eleven, so late in the season and so brief that I thought that couldn't possibly be it.

CX-2 comes back, and he talks like Tech. He's still not unmasked. I really need him to be something because otherwise what was it all for?

The most emotion comes in Juggernaut, from Phee. Its a highlight because it actually feels like it was about him, like he mattered as a person. It's episode twelve and we finally talk about him like a person. We never saw her get the news either.

Episodes thirteen and fourteen pass without any mentions at all. We're running out of time. Episode 15 hits and we get one raw one from Crosshair that Clone Force 99 died with Tech. It's the first time they directly say he's dead in so many words. It's the season finale. CX-2 is a nobody it turns out, and he dies faceless. Everyone gets a happy ending and after over a year of wondering if we'd ever get closure, it turns out Tech's just dead. But look how happy everyone else is!

Everyone gets to grow old. Except the autistic one of course. He's just dead and it hardly feels like it mattered at all. Did you know Wrecker and Hunter don't use his name once in season three? Omega and Echo mention him once each. Crosshair twice, only once with any emotion behind it. Phee tops the charts at three mentions, two by name and one by nickname. We see his goggles four times. I kept count.

There was never a bigger plan, this was just all he was worth. We spent two seasons on Crosshair's absence. We spent a whole episode dealing with it when Echo decided to go with Rex. Tech dies though and all his life amounted to was a handful of mentions when his skills would have been useful, some shots of his broken goggles, and endless cooing out of the text over how meaningful his sacrifice was. Too meaningful to take back, of course, even as Ventress is brought back from her own sacrifice.

I had really, really thought that this time autistic life would be worth more than autistic death. That a character that felt so carefully handled couldn't have just been thrown away for shock value, barely to even be mentioned again, his memory used to string us along to keep us watching. If you added up every mention and shot through season 3 it might actually clock in at less time than was spent on Mayday's send off.

I'm an adult. I'll survive, though the sting of seeing yet another character like me used as a stepping stone for everyone else's happy ending will take a while to fade. But I think about the child I used to be who needed a character like Tech. And I think about how it would have felt to actually get that only to watch him die a handful of episodes later as a side note to his family's story, barely even mentioned again. How badly it would have hurt, how deep it would have scarred.

I'm not that child anymore. But there are a lot of autistic kids out there that are the same as I used to be, and they're learning for the first time that people like us don't get happy endings. Instead they die so that everyone around them can rise up, and they might even get mentioned a few times. But don't worry. Everyone will tell you how meaningful and special it is and how delusional you were to ever hope for anything else.

The Bad Batch still means a lot to me. I think it always will. I love the characters. I love the family, and all the potential they had. But the sting of not belonging in this happy ending is there, and it's deep. It's been a long time since I trusted a show. It'll be a long time before I risk trusting another. And I hope that the autistic kids trying to learn how to close their hearts off behind new walls are doing okay.

#the bad batch #the bad batch spoilers #tbb spoilers #could not sleep so I'm in my feels instead #it did help to type it out #I'm not going anywhere fandom wise but I have to admit I'm hurt

[lqnar]

i should write this stuff in my diary

#yeah i started a journal #i need to use my stickers for SOMETHING right #i love stationery it is my newest obsession #i'm spending so much money on it but i usually don't buy stuff so it's okay it's fine i will survive. #''i usually don't buy stuff'' ok liar but what i meant is that i generally only splurge on food. #which obviously isn't great all of the time. hence the bulimia. #so buying stickers and washi tape to feel an ounce of happiness is fine. #i used to journal/vent in a notebook in high school #i ripped out every single page and threw it out at one point #i think close to graduation? #it was really helpful to vent all my feelings in it but it was also really dark stuff about my depression and suicide plans #and also my trauma. and every single song lyric i related to at the time #so basically a lot of uncomfortable embarrassing and sad stuff that i didn't want anyone else to see or reread myself #so it's all gone #as is most of my venting from that time. i had a 50 k word document with venting at one point. that's a whole book #50 k words sounds insane it might just have been 50 pages i can't remember tbh. but still a lot of words. #it's gone now. i deleted everything about that situation and every single one of my tumblr posts when i was going to kill myself #i tend to clean out my life and my embarrassing online posts and every note i have ever written when i think i'm going to die soon. #i'm not suicidal anymore but it still is a mindset i somewhat still have. like oh better remember to delete these embarrassing posts #before i kms. #like ok king but have you considered mental health as a Choice bro just wondering

[goddess-aelin]

This is going to be such a long post but I feel like I need to get my thoughts out after the angsty ending from A Light in the Flame.

Overall Thoughts:

Umm I thought it was amazing. I know a lot of people were saying it was repetitive and I definitely get that but at the same time, I would literally read 600 pages of Nyktos and Sera eating breakfast so.... Anyway though, I loved the character journeys. I think good characters are what makes a good book and even if the rest is confusing and angsty, it's those character-driven moments that redeem it.

I've said it once and I'll say it again. This prequel series is so much better than FBAA. Not hating on FBAA but I just feel like Nyktos/Sera is so much more well-developed than any relationship in the main series. I love every single side character (yes, even you, Rhain, when you're being rude).

I was hooked from the beginning. How can you not be when it starts with the whole prophecy thing and continues from there with almost constant action. The first half was definitely repetitive, I can totally see that. But I also think that repetitive-ness helped to get the point across that Nyktos cares about Sera. Not the embers, but Sera. Even before they had any convo about forgiving her, I think his actions were speaking louder than words. Though it was a constant battle of "Sera, no." *Sera does the thing.* "How dare you not value your life. *Fucks* Ya know, the usual. Lol. Some of my new fave sera/ash scenes came from this book.

- I adored when he set up a bath for her and everything- it was such a sweet gesture.

-When he took her to the pool and literally just played and had fun, especially because he knew she missed her lake.

- The "I want to be your consort, Nyktos." and Nektas just laughing and knowing.

-The way they both are always stunned by each other. Like they do such sweet things and they are always, ALWAYS, surprised.

-The entire scene of Rhain asking her if she was in love with him and her not being able to answer because she had no idea what it felt like either.

-Her whole breakdown in the carriage because "Oh my gods, I might be in love with him!" Loved every minute of it.

- And then of course, him trying to get her to breathe and calm down when she was about to freak out over this.

-THE FOREHEAD KISS AT THE CORONATION WHERE EVERYONE CAN SEE AND HE DID IT JUST BECAUSE HE COULD. I die

-The sweet but angsty talk about Veses that they needed to have tbh.

**Nyktos is literally the ultimate book BF, I said what I said. It's honestly refreshing to see this 200+ y/o male character that has like no sexual experience whatsoever yet it doesn't demean him or negate him as weak. Love that for him.

Non romantic scenes that melted/broke my heart:

-Sera holding Jadis when she fell asleep and Jadis feeling comfortable enough to switch into human form.

-Reaver then getting the blanket for Jadis and just being a weird little kid. I love it.

-Jadis giving a kiss on the forehead to Sera before going to Kolis. Sera's gonna be such a good mom even if one of her children is a giant piece of shit.

-Ector trying to calm Sera down in the carriage and just talking to her.

- The friendships with Aios and Bele and pretty much everyone just finally forgiving Sera.

-Ugh going back to see Ezra! I needed more sister love tho tbh. They didn't even hug!

Now for the painful parts:

-Aios dying. Like wow. This 100% is number one. I was devastated when Sera saw Ector's decapitated head. But then she saw Aios' red hair and I literally almost threw my damn book. I'm so happy she's ok in the end but RIP Ector.

-When Sera saw Nyktos with Veses. I know we got an explanation for it in the end but I was incredibly stressed and about to unstan Nyktos. I hate cheating (even if that's not what it was) as a trope and tbh I hate miscommunication as a trope. So this entire part of the book was just devastating to me.

-Sera's reaction to the above. She was in love with him already, she just didn't know it. I felt her reaction so viscerally, though. I suppose that's a testament to JLA's writing in this book.

-Sera constantly being told that she's going to die and there's nothing that can be done. Just when they think there might be another way, nope it's just death again. I love that Nyktos is fighting so hard for her and I have some theories that I'll make another post for, but I do find it very ironic. The entire situation was Sera was meant to make Nyktos fall in love and then kill him. Oops except he can't love. And now instead, she's the one who fell in love and now he has to kill her to literally save the world. What a 180. A fabulously done 180 but a shocking one, nonetheless.

Another post will be coming about theories!

#alitf #a light in the flame #alitfspoilers #alitf spoilers #fbaa spoilers

[another1b1testhedust]

Writing Prompt: The hero realises the enemy is them from the future.

"The Stripes and Stars on her Uniform seem to mock me, they seem to laugh at me for even trying to fight up against her. "The damage you've inflicted upon me, they are nothing but fuel for this strive in me to end this for once and for all", i shout at her. She does not react. No, it isnt quite right to say that. I just dont know if she reacts or not, because she has this damn motorcycle helmet. Her possibly ignoring me, pisses me even more off than the fact she cut off two of my toes, just minutes ago. The light shines on her uniform, proving her strength. Not all cadets make it to be a colonel in such a short time. The light disappears as a plane covers the sunshine for a split momoent, covering her in darkness. This was just enough for her to start a surprise attack on me, i definetely didnt see coming. I barely managed to dodge the dagger she threw at me. But this was her moment to strike, she punched me in the guts so hard, my breath got sucked out of my lungs. As I was grasping for air and sink to the floor, she picks up her dagger again. She speaks for the first time in this fight that has cost me my arm and two toes, "The confusion you were feeling in the first few moments must have been replaced with determination and frustration now. But fear not, I am now willing to explain things. Two months ago you have found a little diary. There is not much in it. No text, no drawings or anything like that. Just 36 pieces of blank paper. I know you have counted. Take a seat first, as this will be a bit of a long story, let me fetter your arm. If you resist I'll have to force you." Simply put, I was just too tired to fight back any longer. I watch as she pulls out a llong rope, seemingly out ofnowhere but at closer inspection i can see she is pulling it out of her pocket. The roughly twenty minutes this fight has consumed, I was the one getting beaten into submission. Ironic. I was honored with being the best of the class, having excellent martial arts skills. Hasnt found much use in this fight though. I let her tie my arm and my feet. She sits down besides me and begins to speak, "Two days ago the diary disappeared. And the very next day it showed up again. You lost it the day prior. You dont know how you lost it. You have panicked and searched for it everywhere, but you didnt find it. But it layed in your bed the day after, like nothing happened. Something like this will happen every three to six days or so. There wont happen much except it disappearing and reappearing until four to six years after, where you still keep the diary, even though by now you already have an uneasy feeling and actually want to get rid of it. You still havent written a single entry. The first letters will apppear, after youve lost and found it again. Its only three letters in seemingly random positions on the sheet. The handwriting seems eerily clean. There is no personality behind it. It looks like it could be printed in a foreign font, but you somehow know it is handwriting. You still keep it. After several times of this happening the first words are forming and you understand that someone wants to reach you, tell you something, because your name is written on the sheet and it was the first word that formed. "Diane". You are getting steadily more uncomfortable and want to flush the diary down the drain, burn it until there is nothing left except the ashes, rip out every single page and in the worst of cases, eat every single sheet to get rid of it. And somehow, you dont know why, but at the thought of eating the sheets of the diary, you gain a disgusting sense of appetite. First, the letters came in a rush, appearing every fourish days or so, but barely after your name formed it just kept getting slower. From days to weeks to months. Seven years pass. By this point youve already tried to write an entry, but it keeps sucking the ink out of the pages. In seven slow years, the first entry was fully written. It was an oddly poetic, yet disturbing poem about, well, you'll hear in a moment. May I present you: The road to Destiny

Three frogs ride on a log They arent fast, they go steadily The rider of the log, is searching for a parking lot The waterstream distorts their path heavily The riderfrog steers the log skillfully He tries to outmaneuver a rock bigger than all three of them In a moment of calamity, the sun blinds the riderfrog

The littlest of them frogs struggled with the burden of loneliness, it was too big of an obstacle to stem Diane. Their blood is on your hands Diane. Do not act innocent.We both know what you did. Diane. Diane. Diane. DIANE.

DIA- There it suddenly stops. Many years it lays dorment in its own safe you were willing to buy. But exactly after sixteen years of the poem finishing, there is a 27 page entry and the book is under your bed sheets. Only eight pages of this animality is left. The 27 pages are all the thoughts of your parents exactly three minutes before their death. It is written in red and blue, red representing your father and blue your mother. And at each and every thought the author thought was worth mentioning there is a time stamp. Two minutes and 53 seconds before their death(mom): Where does the sky stop? Isnt the sky just infinitely spreading across the universe, far too big to even measure it correctly? Exactly 2.3 Seconds later(dad): If in the next 25 minutes, a gas station doesnt show up, I will curse this goddamn country and its infrastructure. And so on and so on. The last thoughts of both of your parents are the same: "Im sorry". Who it was they were apologizing for, I dont know. Maybe it was you, maybe it was me. I know of your idea you had since the… incident. Building a time machine to prevent your parents deaths. I have tried everything. The first thing i tried though was to prevent the accident. I tried my best. Nothing worked. Ive travelled several times into the past each time with a different approach. The past is not changeable. So Ive come to the conlusion I gotta try more drastic ideas. And here I am. I ask of you to kill yourself, lest I have to do it." I can only imagine her looking at me. I slowly shake my head. She lets out a small sigh and readied herself to cut open my airpipes. Exactly before she striked I swung my feet as hard as I could, trying to trip her. I succeeded and as she fell the dagger pierced through her like a needle through textile. As she was not moving anymore and as the little red puddle was getting bigger, my breath regulated itself. I could not believe the sheer luck I had. I tried to get rid of the ropes. When I finally got myself free I could move my arm freely. It hurt alot. She still lays on the floor. Her clothes are soaking up all the blood. I cannot resist my curiousity and lift her up a little. Or, atleast I tried to. Her arm didnt feel right. Not human in a weird way. It was way too hard, like wood or metal. As soon as that thought crossed my mind, it sent a shiver down my spine. I quickly dropped her arm and just left. "

As I finish the entry I smile smugly and under my breath mumble "Didnt see that one comin did ya?". I flush the diary down the drain. I had enough of it. Maybe I could focus on something bigger…

#writing prompt #my writing #writing #time travel #writers #creative writing #writers on tumblr

[starrysoftie]

— diary | p.p

“She’s like a shot of espresso...”

includes: tasm! Peter Parker

summary: you accidentally find Peter Parker’s diary

notes: a request from a lovely anon

I deleted this because there was no interaction on it for like a few hours so I thought my acc was broken and then I was informed that tags weren’t working LOLL. if u want u can read more abt the issue here

ALSO BIG FAT SHOUTOUT TO @scandalous-chaos FOR EDITING ILOVEU

Peter Parker was not the kind of person to have a diary.

Or so you thought.

You had some suspicions he may have one, starting from the time you were helping him organize his room and he was extremely against you sorting through the stack of journals in the corner of his room.

And on top of that, he was overly defensive.

So defensive as in he chucked threw something at your face every single time you even glanced in the general direction of them.

You pointed an accusing finger at him. “Peter, look, we’re best friends, I can handle the truth. Are they porn?”

“No?? What the fu—”

The next time was when you asked to borrow a journal that was on his desk to rip out a piece of scratch paper. He shot a web at the book and slingshotted it back into his grasp right as you laid a single finger on it, sputtering some half-assed excuse like it was ‘Aunt May’s precious recipe book.’

Bullshit.

You could see right through him, but honestly, you could care less. What you did care about was finishing your stupid english final. You reached for another journal but he snatched it away even faster than the first one, much to your displeasure.

“Can I use this one?” You pointed to yet another notebook as he shook his head in disapproval.

Now to a purple one. “This?”

“No.”

“This one?”

“No.”

“What about this one?”

“No.”

“That one?”

“Wait- here, use this.” He digs through the desk drawer that he had already cluttered up again (even though you had reorganized it three days ago), pulling out a stack of post-it notes. He tossed them your way.

You deadpan. “These are post-it notes.”

“Clearly.” He hums, shrugging.

“Neon pink ones.”

“Uh yeah—” He shuffled through more clutter in his desk, “but I have orange or yellow ones too, if you’d like.”

“These are… bright neon pink.”

“Now I’m convinced you’re just stating obvious facts.”

“Peter.”

He turns to face you. “Yes?”

“How the hell am I supposed to turn in a four-paged english essay FOR OUR FINAL on pink post-it notes?”

He shrugged again. “I dunno. Magic maybe?”

The most recent and suspicious time was when he was absolutely flipping his shit when he couldn’t find the navy blue journal he’s been attached at the hip with. Like any normal human, you offered to help him look, but he immediately refused.

“Thank you, and I’m sorry, but no.”

“The hell?” You exclaim, a confused look painting your features. “Why not?”

“Because I said so.”

“You’re aware that normal people accept help when they are offered it?”

“Normal people don’t have superpowers.”

You roll your eyes, stubbornly refusing to acknowledge he was right. “You know you’re gonna have a better chance of finding it if you let somebody help.”

“Obviously, but I just can’t.”

“Why not?” You question, your previously concerned expression slowly morphing into an irritated one. “You’ve literally been carrying that journal with you for the past month which means it obviously has some kind of value to you, and by extension to me. Not to mention you’ve just been super secretive about it.”

He sighs, obviously feeling guilty about his erratic behavior. “I know, and I’m sorry for being an ass about it but—”

“Peter??”

Aunt May opened his bedroom door, placing some cookies on the desk and she used her other hand to signal to Peter to follow her. “Aw honey, it’s good to see you again! I didn’t even notice you were here!”

You offered a small, yet kind smile. “Hey Aunt May! Yeah, Pete and I have been busy with finals so we haven’t been able to hangout like we normally do.”

“I’m glad you’re able to get some free time and destress from all the studying though.” She said, before she tugged on Peter’s sleeve to regain his attention. “Peter, come on. I need your help fixing something.”

He sighs, stepping over all the piles of mess he created in his frantic search to find his journal. Right before he exited the room he turned to you with a stern glare.

“Promise me you won’t go looking for it?”

You nod. “I pinky promise.”

Obviously as the amazing best friend you are, as soon as you’re out of his sight you set out to go and find the secret notebook.

And did you successfully find it???

Nope!! plus he caught u snooping around

lmfao loser

Rightfully so, all these events have been leading up to this one moment you’ve been waiting for.

The seemingly lost journal was not really lost at all.

He had left it in your room when he had come over the day before.

Admittedly, the overwhelming urge to snoop through it had obviously crossed your mind more than a few times. Who wouldn’t be curious about the journal he held in such a secretive light?

You picked up the journal that he laid on the edge of your bed, flipping to the cover and rationalizing your actions to see if the journal was yours or his.

First page was scribbled in deep red ink that wrote, ‘PETER PARKER’S DIARY #5. IF LOST PLEASE RETURN AND DO NOT READ UNDER ANY CIRCUMSTANCES.”

DIARY???

“This thing was a diary??” Your jaw drops in surprise, not expecting the true nature of the notebook to be a diary out of all things. Of course you had your suspicions, but Peter never seemed to be the kind of sentimental guy who wrote out his feelings.

And this was his fifth one???

There were more??

There was little to no self control within your body at this point, the curiosity flowing through you clouding any rational judgment you had.

You flipped through the pages, most were actually filled with pictures he had taken and drawings, a few pages written down here and there. One section had specifically caught your attention.

There was a neon pink post-it note bookmark that had your name scribbled on it.

You assumed it would’ve been more collages of photos of the both of you as the previous pages were, but boy you were wrong.

Very wrong.

Heat creeped up on your cheeks as you were completely frozen in shock for the second time that night. You read his familiar chicken scratch over and over.

She’s like a shot of espresso. She’s like being bathed in sunlight. She's incredibly energetic, enthusiastic and has this sense of play and fun which is incredibly exciting. She’s the light and love of my life. I’ve been in love with her since we’ve met and I always will be, but she doesn’t know and I don’t know how to tell her.

You’re speechless.

It’s probably about time you grew a pair and figured out how to confess your love for him as well.

But little do you know, he may or may not have purposefully planted that diary in your room so he didn’t need to make the first move.

Guess you’ll never know.

masterlist

tag list: @scandalous-chaos @xdsage @grxcisxhy-wp

#Peter Parker x reader #Andrew garfield x reader #tasm spiderman fluff #Andrew! Peter Parker x reader #Andrew! Peter x reader #Andrew garfield Peter Parker x reader #tasm spiderman x reader #tasm Peter parker x reader #spiderman fluff #Peter Parker fluff #Andrew garfield spiderman x reader #the amazing spiderman

[devildomdisaster]

Idk if you read Lore Olympus but chapter 129 gave me an angsty request idea.

So Persephone, who’s the goddess of spring, goes into a hibernation-like state and when her emotions go out of control, she ends up growing her hair really long and her body sprouts a lot of plants from her; to the point of covering her and whatever area she’s in with her plants.

So I would like to request head cannons of the Brothers reacting to an MC who gets really sad whenever the brothers insult or threaten them and after several weeks of being berated by demons it causes MC to shut down and go to their room but mistakes a comfort spell with a plant curse that causes their hair and plants to grow continuously long. The plants fill up MC’s room and while they would normally be surprised at the mistake, they don’t care any more. They allow the plants to to grow, even wrap around their neck and body, and hopes the curse kills them off before the brothers notice as they go in the “hibernation” stage of the curse (The curse causes the victim to grow a lot of plants and vines from their body until they die, which can take a few days).

I’m sorry for being so long and descriptive, I just wanna see the Bros panic and feel guilty that MC felt pushed to do this to themselves but I understand if you don’t want to do it

I don't read Lore Olympus but you described the situation really well so I hope this is something close to what you wanted.

Comfort spell gone wrong

Lately, nothing seemed to be good enough for the demons. No matter what you did one of them would find something to berate you for.

“Mc, your grades are subpar even for an exchange student. You’ll have to try harder in order to not be a disappointment to Diavolo and myself.” Lucifer warned over breakfast.

“Mc, you burned dinner. You should learn to be a better cook.” Beel grumbled. As if you had ever seen any of these ingredients before ending up in the Devildom.

Even Mammon seemed to be in a particularly unpleasant mood. A never-ending string of complaints about how hard it is to protect an ordinary human. “Geez, you’re such a hassle human.”

Taking refuge in the library to study and to give Mammon a break from you proved disastrous and nearly deadly. Somehow you’d managed to spill your cup of tea all over an old somewhat rare text after Asmo had barged in and startled you. Your string of bad luck continued when Satan rounded the corner and saw the soggy tea-stained pages you’d been trying to decipher. In his fit of rage, he’d called you several unpleasant names and asked if you were “capable of doing anything right or if all humans are as stupid as you?” You’d left as quickly as you were able to avoid any more of his wrath.

No matter where you went you kept walking in on Belphie napping and without fail he’d say something nasty to you, that would make tears burn the backs of your eyes.

Levi had angrily called you a “useless normie,” who he wished would “never come back.” and had pushed you from his room with a slam of his door.

Even Asmo who usually just ignored you when he was upset found every reason imaginable to critique your every aspect. Physical and personality. Not a single one of which made you feel any more than worthless.

So was it any wonder when at the end of a long week you’d locked yourself in your room and decided to try that comfort spell you’d heard Solomon talking about? It seemed simple enough. But then your tears had blurred your vision as you’d recited the words and your Latin was still shaky at best. But it was just a few lines! And there was no way you were going to go to one of the brothers for comfort when they had seemed perfectly happy to make you miserable for the last few weeks.

You’d read the spell aloud and curled up hoping that the spell would kick in and you’d feel even just the slightest bit better. The blinding green light and sudden drop in energy was the first and only warning the spell had gone wrong. But being new to magic meant it still sapped your energy, so you didn’t stop to think something might be wrong. By the time you realized what was happening, everything was out of control. Plants had begun to sprout from your skin and the floor around you, growing and growing. With each inch they grew you felt your exhaustion creep up and consume you. You were just so tired. Your eyes fluttered closed. This was wrong! You forced your eyes open again. You need to fix this. The spell! But a short nap wouldn’t hurt, would it? You’d have more energy after you woke up. Then you could go get one of the brothers. Satan would know how to fix this. Or Lucifer! He’d clean the spell up easily. Yes, after you woke up…

Lucifer hadn’t seen you all weekend. He figures you’re most likely studying. But you don’t show up for meals and none of his brothers have seen you either… and oh Diavolo! He can feel the spell from the dining room. How did he not notice sooner? The cold pulling sensation of the spell, like it was sucking the warmth and life from its surroundings.

When Lucifer reaches your door Mammon is already there. Knocking and shouting for you, but there's no answer. He all but breaks your door down, his brothers behind him, and finds you at the center of the spell. Unresponsive and covered in the plants using your energy to grow. The plants had begun climbing up the walls and twisting through your hair, sending out snow-white flowers.

“Beel! Don’t!” Lucifer warns as Beel reaches out to pull a handful of plants from you. “We don’t know what did this and what will happen to Mc if we just rip the spell off like that.”

“Lucifer, Mc did this to themself,” Satan points to the open spellbook. “It looks like they got a comfort spell mixed up.”

Fortunately, your last tired thoughts were correct and Lucifer is able to break the spell quickly. You wake surrounded by the brothers.

Lucifer:

All this happened for a comfort spell? Because you didn’t feel like you could come to him, to any of them?

He’s so sorry Mc. Enough that as he leans down to pick you up out of the mess of withering plants you can feel tears fall onto your face.

“Nothing I did was good enough for you Lucifer. Any of you. I just wanted to feel… I just wanted-”

His heart breaks when he realizes this is his brother’s fault, his fault. “You are always good enough, Mc. Much more than I could ever ask you to be, and if I ever made you feel like you weren't. No, the fact that I made you feel like you weren’t, means I have been truly terrible.”

You’re choking back your own tears now and you curl further into his arms as he carries you down the hall. “You said I was a disappointment.”

“My dear Mc, you have never been, nor could you ever be a disappointment to me. Forgive me for ever making you feel as if you were.”

Lucifer takes you to his bathroom and draws you a bath to wash away the last of the plant matter from your body.

Afterward, he’ll bring you anything you ask for. He wants to wrap you in his arms but doesn’t want to push you, so he asks softly if he can hold you.

He’ll spend weeks trying to make this up to you, even after you forgive him, he’ll be sure to tell you how much he loves you more often than he did before.

Mammon:

Shit human! Why didn’t you come to him? He loves you so much and oh. He made you feel like a burden.

How could he be so stupid when he knows how his brothers make him feel?

Mammon begs for your forgiveness in front of all his brothers.

“Please can ya forgive me? I never meant to make ya feel like a burden. You're the only human I- I want to protect you Mc. I’m so sorry.”

Mammon helps you up and since your room is covered in plants he offers to let you sleep in his room for the night.

He wraps you in blankets and brushes the hair from your face with trembling fingertips.

There are still a few stubborn leaves sticking to your face and in your hair so Mammon takes a warm washcloth and wipes them from your face before gently untangling the plants from your hair.

You’ll be getting little gifts and tokens of mammon’s affections for the foreseeable future.

Levi:

He threw you out of his room when you came to him for comfort and the guilt at seeing you almost die because of it is eating him alive.

He feels frozen

Maybe you would be better off without an otaku shut-in like him. He starts avoiding you like the plague.

You start to think that Levi is so disgusted with the fact that you did that spell that he doesn’t want anything to do with you anymore.

Despite this Levi still checks up on you. He wants to know that you are ok, he just does it without you knowing.

He’ll ask his brothers about you and discreetly glance at you during meals to make sure you’re eating enough and look healthy.

A few days later when your favorite and manga anime start showing up outside your door you confront Levi. “Are you mad at me? Do you just not want to be around me after what happened? Levi, I miss you!”

He is shook, and he can’t believe he messed up so badly.

He’s happy that he can invite you to hang out again, and he makes sure to spend long nights gaming or watching movies with you until you fall asleep against him. He’ll even stutter out how much he treasures his time with you, blushing fiercely all the while.

Satan:

Satan feels anger swell up inside him. How could he have let this happen? How could no one have seen how upset you were?

Once the spell has been dissolved he is at your side instantly. Brushing vines from your skin. His fingers are shaking in anger but his touch is so gentle.

When both you and your room are cleaned up Satan sits at your bedside, book in hand, reading to you.

He just wants to be close to you now. He wants you to know how much he cares about you but is still too worked up to get his thoughts out properly.

Eventually, his thoughts calm and he stops reading in the middle of a sentence. “Mc, I am so sorry. I never meant to make you feel unwanted. Every day I spend with you is infinitely better than a day without you. I know the spell was a mistake but… we almost lost you. I almost lost you.”

He wants to talk about what pushed you to do this. He won’t push but he really does think that he will be better able to help you if he understands.

Satan makes sure to spend more time with you from now on. He makes a conscious effort to check his temper at the door and be with you when you need him.

Sometimes he’ll just read to you until one of you confides in the other in quiet voices.

Asmo:

As you blink your eyes open Asmo gently brushes some plants from your cheek.

You are so pale and his heart breaks as you flinch away from him. You feel like a mess and you know you must look like one too so curl your body away from him trying to hide. Trying to avoid his critical gaze.

This is the moment Asmo knows he screwed up.

He draws his hand back, for a moment, before reaching out to you again. Cupping your cheek and wiping your tears away with perfectly manicured hands.

Lucifer has him take you to his bathroom to clean up while the rest of the brothers work to clear the plants from your room.

Asmo is quiet for a long while as he untangles plants from your hair.

“You’re so loved, Mc,” he says softly. “You are.” he insists when you shake your head no.

“More than you could ever know, and it’s our fault for not telling you. My fault for not making you feel worthy.”

After this incident, Asmo wants to make sure you know how beautiful you are. He starts self-care days once a week that soon turn into whole family affairs. Each week different combinations of his brother attend and you all work to pamper each other.

Asmo makes sure nothing like this happens again, he never wants to be part of the reason you feel unloved ever again.

Beel:

At first, Beel thinks you did this on purpose. Once the brothers realize you messed up the spell he is less angry but no less distraught.

Once you wake up, he wants to take you to get desserts. He’s heard humans eat Chocolate/ other sweets to feel better. And this makes sense to him, food does make everything better.

But you don’t want to go to Madam Screams or the kitchen to make your own. You’re still so tired. Not to mention embarrassed that you screwed the spell up this bad.

And now they are all staring at you like they care so much when none of them had any time to notice how they were making you feel before.

When you become unresponsive to the brother’s questions and apologies Beel scoops you up in his arms and walks away with you.

Something about the way he holds you close to his chest and his warmth causes you to finally let go.

You bury your face in his shirt to muffle your crying.

“I just… I felt so alone! And… I...but no one” you gasp out shakily between sobs.

Beel soothes you with soft murmuring as he gently cards his fingers through your hair and strokes down your back.

Once your crying quiets he starts to speak “Don’t do that again. You can always come to me Mc. I’m so sorry you felt like you couldn’t”

Belphie:

Belphie thinks it’s a joke at first. “Man, how could they mess up this bad?”

Then he sees Lucifer’s panicked expression and it hits him how serious this is.

Belphie is immediately by your side. Hands frantically feeling your wrist for a pulse.

After Lucifer breaks the spell and your eyes flutter open Belphie is filled with relief until a wave of guilt washes through him.

He can’t believe he fucked up so badly again. Sure this time he didn’t directly cause you physical harm, but he did play a role in causing you to almost die again.

“I am so very sorry Mc, I never meant to hurt you.”

He does everything he can think of to make it up to you. Anything you ask him for, as long as it’s within his power, is yours. No questions asked.

He asks permission just to hold your hand for weeks afterward as if he thinks you’ll come to your senses and decide you don’t want anything to do with him.

He wants to comfort you so bad.

To make sure you don’t feel like this again Belphie pulls you away to nap with him as often as he can get away with it. Most likely only a few times a week (much less often than he would like). Sometimes he uses this time just to talk with you. Others you really do nap, and Belphie curls himself around you. Occasionally he enters your dreams while you nap together to make sure no nightmares can touch you.

#obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me x mc #obey me x reader #obey me x gender neutral reader #obey me headcanons #obey me scenarios #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me asmodeus #obey me satan #obey me belphie #obey me beelzebub #obey me beel x mc #belphie x mc #mammon x mc #asmo x mc #leviathan x mc #beel x mc

[peachycoreroo]

i was thinking, what about boys from haikyuu losing game and taking their anger on their s/o in bed to the point s/o is saying safe word, crying? if that's too much, just make them really angry, hurting s/o with words.

i was thinking about Suna, Kita and maybe Shirabu?

characters: suna rintarou, kita shinsuke, shirabu kenjirou

genre: smut, slight angst, fluff at the end

word count: 1.8k

warnings: fem!reader, angry boys, established relationships, spanking, one (1) face slap, choking, vaginal penetration, oral m!receiving, usage of ‘whore’, ‘bitch’ and ‘slut’, heavy degradation, semi-public sex, pretty harsh words are said, safe word is used

authors note: uuu this is my first darker piece for hq, but it does end in fluff!! i tweaked it so it fits the timeskip, but just a friendly reminder that this is pure fiction, your favs love you and would never hurt you<3 here's a link to my masterlist

pt.2: kuroo tetsurou, oikawa tooru, tsukishima kei

suna rintarou:

it wasn’t often that your boyfriend resorted to pounding the living shit out of you immediately when you had sex, usually opting for teasing you till you couldn’t take it anymore and begged him to fuck you or took the reins in your own hands and rode him till you were both shaking from overstimulation.

this time, was bad though.

the japanese national volleyball team just lost the finale of the olympics, resulting in them only getting the silver medal. no matter how amazing the second-place sounded, it still hit hard to miss the big gold by a hair.

just like how hard suna was currently hitting your ass, as he fucked into you in the empty changing room of the team. you only wanted to check on him when you saw how dejected he looked as he left the field with the team, when the tall brunet just ripped down your clothes and bent you over, fury dancing in his greenish eyes.

you knew how hard rintarou and his teammates worked for this. it was only natural they couldn’t celebrate. losing is still losing, no matter if you’re getting a medal.

“f-fuck, rin, it hurts”, you wailed, tears already streaming down your face from the full-force slaps that were delivered to your sore ass cheeks. being bent over with only the locker in front of you and sunas’ hands on your hips as a leverage to not fall face first on the floor, slowly took a troll on your tired body. it also didn’t help that your legs were barely able to keep you up with how powerful his thrusts were.

“shut the fuck up and take it, worthless whore”, he growled furiously, thrusts only increasing in speed, and a hand sneaking to your front, wrapping itself around your neck. the cruel comments that usually caused your cunt to flutter and eyes roll back, suddenly made your heart sink.

you knew he was angry at being defeated by the opposing team and not at you, but you couldn’t stop the heavy feeling in your chest, or the tears that seemed to multiply at his cold remark.

when the adjustment of his hips caused him to hammer his fat tip painfully against your cervix and his hand tightened harshly around your throat, your knees gave out and you tried to scream only for nothing to come out of your mouth.

“useless, fucking bitch, can’t even stand upright. why do i even keep you around?” he aggressively huffed, not paying any attention to your comfort. you couldn’t take this anymore.

your body went completely limp, as you whispered a small, choked ‘silk’, not even being sure if he heard, when his mind was so clouded by rage.

but he did. and his heart painfully clenched when he recognized the hurt tone in your voice, instantly letting go of your bruised throat and ceasing his thrusts.

guilt filled him as he pulled out and finally looked at you to see you sobbing uncontrollably, arms wrapping protectively around your form as if you were afraid of him hurting you.

“hey… hey, y/n, sweetie, look at me.” suna’s gentle tone had you looking up at him, your vision blurry as your pained expression met his tender one.

“’m s-sorry i couldn’t help you, r-rin’. ‘m sorry y-you lost”, you stuttered out helplessly.

here you were, crying and in pain, but still thinking about him. the brunet was sure he didn’t deserve you.

“no, i’m sorry, pretty. i got carried away”, the tall volleyball player whispered softly, his large palms cupping your cheeks, “i love you and i never want to hurt you. please, forgive me.”

the guilt etched into his handsome face showed you just how bad he really felt, your lips lifting in a small smile. “’s ok, rin’. i love you too.”

the tall male breathed out a sigh of relief as he embraced you tightly and kissed your forehead. suna rintarou would never get carried away like this again. that, he promised himself.

kita shinsuke:

when kita got home, all dejected and upset because some assholes decided to trash grandma yumie’s precious crops in the darkness of the night, you opened your arms with love and understanding. what you didn’t expect however, as you asked how you could help, was to end up on your knees with your boyfriend abusing your throat for what felt like hours.

your knees were aching from the uncomfortable position on the hardwood floor, throat painfully contracting around his thick length as he pounded your mouth as if it were your cunt, jaw hurting from holding it open for so long.

you felt like you would pass out any minute, and while normally kita would immediately sense any of your slightest mood shifts when you were being intimate, he didn’t this time.

where there was usually a caring boyfriend who wouldn’t take his gaze of your face and always asked if you’re doing okay, was a guy who had a far away look on his frowning face, only using you as an outlet for his anger.

the white-black haired male was almost scarily quiet, only occasional grunts and growls escaping his lips. your gurgling and gagging sounds as he hit the back of your throat with every forceful thrust were painful to listen to, and you couldn’t wrap your head around your boyfriend not realizing what he was doing to you.

as tears streamed down your numb face, you weren’t able to stop your teeth from grazing his fat cock, your throbbing jaw not cooperating with your brain anymore.

kita let out an animalistic growl as he pulled out of your wet mouth at once, a sudden slap to your tender cheek startling you.

“you asked how to help and you’re doing exactly that, but can’t even do that for me, huh?”, he spat almost hostilely.

the hurtful words, the harsh slap and the rage painted on his usually calm and kind face made your heart ache, as you sobbed out a ‘peach! shin’, please! peach!’

kita suddenly felt as if he awoke from a hypnosis, when he heard you cry out your safe word. as his -now clear- gaze fell on you, he couldn’t help his chest from painfully tightening. you only offered to help, and he’s gone and hurt you like never before.

falling on his knees in front of you, he pulled you into his strong arms, rocking you both side to side as he apologetically murmured ‘i’m so sorry, angel’ and ‘i love you’ over and over again into your messy hair.

“m’ okay, shinsuke. just wanted to help", you sniffled against his chest, making kita close his eyes out of pure shame that he did that to you.

“let’s get you into the bathtub and i’ll cook your favorite, how does that sound love?”, he whispered softly, as if afraid that any of his next movements would make you break.

the next few weeks you barely got to do anything, kita shinsuke always glued to your side and immediately taking over any task that was thrown at you.

shirabu kenjirou:

being a med student was fucking exhausting. shirabu had spent months writing a very important thesis about certain brain tumors on newborns, only for his professor to give him a c. something about it not being detailed enough.

“fuck you”, shirabu spat as he was sitting in front of the fire place in your shared apartment, throwing all 80 pages of the “not detailed” dissertation into the fire.

“ken’? what are you doing?”

“burning this fucking nightmare. ’m gonna drop out, fuck this shit”, he almost growled furiously. coming up behind him, you wrapped your arms around his neck from behind, leaning down to ask lowly: “you want a better way to deal with your anger?”

that’s how you found yourself bent over his lap with your panties dangling at your ankles. the spanking wasn’t new, your boyfriend being super pissed while doing so, was.

the first few slaps went as usual with you clenching around nothing and enjoying the rubs to the tender flesh shirabu hit a few seconds prior. after, it suddenly went downhill.

all at once, the soft caresses ceased to a stop, his calloused palm from years of playing volleyball coming down on your ass with full force and the copper-haired man spewing some of the most degrading stuff you’ve ever heard.

“fucking slut, getting off to this. you like it when i use you to let out my anger? i’m having a hard time while you’re just being a horny, selfish fucktoy”.

at the last sentence, you froze. did he really think you were using him? you only wanted to help, but his cold words continued. “gonna beat your ass till it’s sore and aching, you won’t be able to sit without remembering what a useless fucking girlfriend you were while i needed support.”

the logical part of your brain knew, that your boyfriend didn’t mean it. the anger got the best of him, and he just threw around accusations like he wished he could do at his asshole of a prof.

but the bigger, sensitive part of your brain convinced you that he meant every single hurtful word. you weren’t even hearing what derogatory stuff was spilling from his lips anymore, vision blurry and ears ringing from the pain you felt in your chest as well as your ass cheeks.

was this your fault? was it wrong to try and help? maybe you should’ve given him some space.

a particularly hard spank brought you back to reality, suddenly tasting the salty wetness of your tears seeping into your mouth as you cried out a loud ‘pumpkin!”, trying to push yourself out of his lap and landing on the floor with a loud ‘thud’ as his hands instantly let you go.

shirabu could only look at you wide-eyed when he saw how you were choking on your sobs and crawling backwards, just to get away from him.

“please don’t hit me anymore!”, were the words, that would haunt kenjirou for the rest of his life. he could feel himself tear up when it hit him what he did to you, his precious girlfriend, just because he was angry at a prof.

“baby, i- please i would never hit you like that on purpose, i- “, the male felt his throat tighten up and with a quiet sniffle he embraced you tightly, craving the warmth of your body. “forgive me, i love you so much, please don’t go.”

as you started to calm down, your arms wrapped themselves around him, wanting to be close to him as well, because no matter what, he was your biggest comfort and you still loved him.

“’m not going anywhere, kenji’. just… please don’t do that ever again”, you murmured against his temple.

“never.”

#suna smut #kita smut #shirabu smut #suna rintarō #kita shinsuke #shirabu kenjirō #suna #kita #shirabu #haikyuu smut #hq smut #suna drabble #kita drabble #shirabu drabble #suna angst #kita angst #shirabu angst #haikyuu!! #haikyuu x reader #lera.requests #from: kaorutah #haikyuu angst #suna x reader #kita x reader #shirabu x reader #suna rintarou #shirabu kenjirou #suna rintaro smut #choking tw #degradation tw

[navegandoaciegas]

Cloud nine

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x fem!reader

Warnings: 18+, smut, pwp, watersports, dom/sub undertones, dom!bucky, sub!reader, reader calls bucky daddy, creampie.

Summary: You’ve never had an orgasm during sex, and Bucky is determined to make you come, no matter how unusual your request may be.

A/N: I have no words lmfao just- don’t read if pee bothers you please.

Frustration pooled in your stomach, festering on your negative emotions.

Bucky slumped beside you, cheeks flushed, drool and sweat all over his face as he clinged to your chest, catching his breath.

You’d been going at it for hours, and he’d fucked you in all the positions on the book, changing pace and angles to hit every spot inside you until he’d come in your aching cunt more times than humanly possible and you’d run yourself dry.

He’d praised you, degraded you, slapped you, kissed your tears, made soft love to you and fucked you like a rag doll, fingered you until his fingers cramped and wrinkled, and you hadn’t come.

You always treaded the edge, so close yet so far from reaching the crest of your high, only to fall back down without ever being able to let yourself crash.

“Sorry,” he panted softly in the crook of your neck, right hand tracing soothing circles on your hip.

“‘S not your fault.”

“I know, I just-”

He interrupted himself with a huff, drowning his unspoken words in your skin.

You’d had this conversation numerous times before.

It wasn’t him, as no other partner had ever been able to make you cum either. They hadn’t even cared enough to worry about it.

It wasn’t you either, nothing in your anatomy, at least.

You liked Bucky, you desired him. Just looking at him too long made the walls of your cunt throb uncontrollably. And you had no trouble making yourself cum on your fingers, even without any toy or porn involved, just the thought of him and his fat cock inside you.

You’d been dating for months now, and he hadn’t given you a single orgasm yet.

You could see it begin to tear down his confidence, flooding his mind with insecurities he’d confided you with, how he feared you’d leave him for someone better, or you’d tire of him and move on.

With a bitter smile you’d replied that he’d be the one to leave for a better partner he could pleasure, and from then on Bucky hadn’t mentioned it anymore, but you could see the doubts plaguing his mind, twisting and turning his thoughts in grey clouds, draining him everytime he came and you didn’t.

You felt broken, and he felt guilty.

You needed to find a solution, and you needed to do it fast.

-

Your therapist was a nice woman, stern when needed and caring at times, and yet you couldn’t fucking stand her whenever she repeated the same sentence that your gynecologist had told you already.

The more you worried about your orgasm, the harder it would be to cum.

An easy concept to grasp if you weren’t the one struggling, if orgasms came as easy as eating and breathing.

You huffed in frustration, one hand in your sweatpants as you lazily fondled with your clit, the other scrolling through a porn website, looking for a video that would get the job done for you, eager to release the stress of your day at work.

You scrolled through staged videos that would only aggravate you, women who squealed loud enough to hurt your eardrums and men too rough for your liking. Pov’s, plumbers and housewives, gangbangs, vintage and fake taxis.

You could feel the irritation build up inside you when, reached the 23rd page, you hadn’t found a video that would satisfy you yet.

Famous pornstars, amateurs, thousands of bytes of porn that made your thumb scrolling on your phone cramp, until you stumbled upon a video with a title so debauched that you felt compelled to click on it.

And so, an idea, admittedly not your best one, began to form in your head as your fingers worked your clit furiously to bring you over the edge.

Bucky had been surprisingly eager to try it out when you’d mentioned it whilst you brushed your teeth on a random morning, excited even, almost as if he’d meant to ask all along and never built the courage to.

You’d tried a lot of things, and you had nothing to lose at this point. So, you’d lined your mattress with plastic sheets, and hoped for the best.

-

Soft lips nipped your neck, peppering the column of your throat with wet kisses.

You registered the sheets rustling beneath you and Bucky’s silky hair tickling you.

You blinked your bleary eyes, adjusting yourself to the gentle morning light seeping through the blinds, painting your room in intricate shadows.

“Mornin’,” you croaked, a small smile tugging at your lips.

Like every time that Bucky spent the night at your place, you’d wake up to his lips and hands all over you.

“G’mornin’, princess,” he mumbled, hands getting bolder, hiking up your thighs.

It didn’t take long for Bucky’s touch to ignite the fire in your core, warmth pooling in your lower belly as he cupped your cunt over your shorts.

He pulled away from your neck to look at you in the eyes, pupils dilated by desire.

Bucky was always so eager, pouncing on you at any chance he got. He was especially needy on weekend mornings, where he could take his time with you and make love to you until he’d be exhausted and you’d be, well, happy to participate.

His hand slipped under your shorts, lazily stroking your clit, still swollen from the night before.

“Already so wet for me?” he noted, gathering your wetness on his fingertips and smearing it over your sensitive bud.

A breathy gasp escaped your parted lips, followed by many others as he continued to work your cunt. Your walls throbbed in anticipation, and you bit your lips, eager for his cock to fill you to the brim.

Bucky continued peppering your neck, clavicles, chest with kisses, hiking your t-shirt over your tits before he attacked your nipples with his mouth.

It felt like being on cloud nine, having him take care of you so good, brain turned to mush as you let him do anything he wanted to you.

The same negative thoughts that swirled in your mind everytime you had sex with Bucky flashed behind your eyes for a fleeting moment, reminding you of how you wouldn’t come even this time, despite your efforts. You willed yourself to focus on the moment, on the small jolts on electricity in your cunt, on your hardening nipples, and heaving chest.

His warm mouth latched on your nipples, suckling them between his teeth, tongue swirling on them.

“Bucky please,” you whined, growing impatient with his teasing, “Fuck me already, please.”

He chuckled, head buried between your tits.

“Careful when you talk to me, little girl.”

“Or what?”

A mischievous grin spread on his face as he descended down, tongue tracing your stomach, belly, hip bones, peppering kisses and bruises until he reached your silk shorts.

He threw one more look at you before biting the fabric and slowly tugging it down your legs.

You kicked the shorts away and spread your legs, revealing your glistening cunt to Bucky’s hungry eyes.

“Fuck,” he groaned, resuming back to sucking bruises on the soft skin of your inner thighs, “Such a pretty pussy, princess.”

Fire spread through your body when his warm breath hit your lips, and the anticipation before he closed his mouth on your clit sent shivers down your spine.

“Fuck yourself on my mouth, baby girl. Show daddy how good you are to him, how much you want his cock, hm?”

You didn’t need to be told twice, and started grinding your hips on his face while he lapped at your folds, drinking up your arousal.

A soft sigh, followed by a hiss and a high pitched moan were ripped out of you when Bucky pushed two fingers past your entrance, curling them inside you.

You continued the steady rhythm, fucking yourself on his face until the familiar tension began building in your cunt.

“Just like that daddy,” you shrieked, “Make me cum, please, please.”

You kept going, speeding your movements, chasing your release, thighs quivering around his head, reaching higher, and higher, and-

And then it was gone, snuffed like a weak flame in the wind.

You tugged on Bucky’s hair, and brought his face to yours in a desperate kiss, slanting your mouth against his. You tasted yourself on his tongue, tangy and musky.

He ground his hips on you, growing more and more desperate by the second.

He never lasted long in the morning.

“Fuck me, daddy, please, wanna feel your cock inside me,” you whined, wiggling your hips.

“Can’t say no to you, princess.”

He had such a pretty cock, not too big, veiny and flushed. You wanted him in your mouth, in your pussy, between your tits. You wanted him whole, and it frustrated you so much that despite your wants you couldn’t satiate your needs.

He lined himself up with your dripping cunt, and pushed his cock inside you with one swift motion, until you were full to the brim and his balls slapped against your ass.

He hauled your thighs over his shoulders, folding you under his weight.

“So tight,” he spat through gritted teeth, fighting against the urge to burst as you snapped your hips up.

One of his forearms rested laid your head while the other hand came to rest on your neck, not cutting off your air but as a clear warning to stop moving around.

“Move, please” you begged, mind hazy with pleasure.

It always felt so good when his cock stretched you out, when it rubbed on your gummy walls, a ring of white cream pooling just above his balls.

It always felt good, and that’s why you hated it. It always gave you the illusion that this time you’d come, just this once you’d overcome your problem and have an earth shattering orgasm like you deserved.

His cock kept hitting all the spots inside you, your walls pulsating around him, suffocating him in a tight grip.

“Daddy? Can we- can we try that thing?” you moaned, sneaking a hand between your bodies to furiously rub your swollen clit.

“Yes, fuck, that’s so hot, God, I’m gonna do it, okay?” he grunted, picking up the pace of his pace, harder, faster, spurred on by your high pitched shrills, until his movements grew sloppier.

“Ask me nicely,” he snarled, furrowing his brows and gritting his teeth.

“Piss inside me, daddy. Use me like the fuckin’ dirty whore I am.”

The room was filled with the squelching sounds of his balls hitting your ass and your drooling pussy. His tongue lolled out of his mouth, and he came gripping your thighs so hard it would surely leave a mark.

His cum spilled inside you while your walls milked every last drop.

You closed your eyes, willing your body to relax as he rested his head on your chest. His hand shoed yours away, roughly rubbing your clit.

You could feel his cock go soft inside you, his warm cum spilling out of your pussy.

It was building up inside you, the tension from before. You hiked high, and higher, and your legs were shaking, body shook by jolts of electricity.

“Fuck,” he hissed, grinding his teeth.

You moaned, his name on your tongue like a chant.

And then, Bucky sighed, eyes shutting in bliss as he released inside you.

Never in your life has you felt quite as warm, or full, as his searing hot piss filled you in from the inside, invading your cunt and overflowing out of you.

So hot, so full, so high that you couldn’t smell the pungent scent of his piss or hear anything other than your frenzied heartbeat in your ears.

“Daddy, daddy, I’m coming, I’m coming.”

And then you were cumming around his soft cock so hard that your eyes rolled to the back of your skull. Your body twitched and spasmed as a long awaited orgasm wrecked through you, wiping your mind blank for several seconds.

When you opened your eyes again, Bucky’s soft smile greeted you. Everything felt hazy, like having your head underwater and cotton in your mouth.

He nuzzled your nose, picking your limp body from the bed and carrying you to the bathroom.

“Daddy is so proud of you, princess.”

-

Not proofread sorry 😬

Please reblog and leave a comment if you can! 🥰

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky x reader #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes x y/n

[tamat3v]

req: hey mate sorry to like probably ruin your reputation here but can i request pseudo-incest dabi with like overstimulation and sadomasochism?

❥• this was from my other acc, this req has been sitting and rotting for m o n t h s, i added my own twists and tweaks here and there [nah like actually a lot💔💔 the main kinks in highlight are still overstim and sadomasochism(ish for this one) so it’s not too bad] so i hope it is enjoyed. coming up with a title for this was living hell so i’ll figure it out later 🚶🏾

w/c: none, cus i’m trying straight up on tumblr, so help me god but it’s a pretty decent reading length i suppose

Touya hated you- despised you for the very fact you walked the earth in his lifetime. You were the most cherished one, the sun of your parents and he was the other one, who’s name was apparently so unspeakable because he was the disappointment. He hated you, did everything in his power to show his mom and your dad that you were no good. He knew what you were, he heard all of those girls and boys screaming as you basically pounded them into your mattress every other night. Only he knew how you toyed with and threw away each and every single one of them after you had your fun and gotten your dick wet enough for the week.

Touya curses the ground you walk on. He abhors you so, then why is it that this time he’s slumped against his bed? Hearing the girl cry and you pant with his pants feeling too tight? Why, god tell him why he walked into the room, acting like it was a mistake. Why he screamed at the girl to get lost and it was a sight to behold, how she scrambled for her clothes and flew out the door like a hurricane.

You were seeing red at this point. You’d finally convinced her to get into your bed and that god forsaken raven head had to step in a mess up. You were livid, shirt crumpled slightly and raised up as you flung the other onto the bed, hand wrapped around his throat dangerously with ill intentions which pinned him flat to the bed and all he could do was struggle. “Touya, what the hell is wrong with you?”

Touya couldn’t tell you the answer but how he wondered the same thing. No normal person would like being brutally tossed to the bed, being choked heavy with all rage- which was absolutely deserved. The crown of the pile of issues was that his hard on was furious in his pants, straining against the fabric. This is wrong, all so wrong. You were brothers for goodness’ sake, you could literally kill him for goodness’ sake yet he liked the hurt and he wanted you even more. He tried to speak out but his words died long before in his throat all he could let out was a weak, failing sound- so pathetic. You were so sour at the pitiful face he was making but it soon turned into a bitter smile on your face. As much as you wanted to thrash him for butting in and stepping far out of line, you would just rock his shit differently.

Because little did he know that you knew what he did. Unlike your parents, you heard him beating his pathetic, weeping cock and mewling at the dead of night to his own step-brother. You had seen his book, pages filled with the most obscene and perverse desires and fantasies he had and you knew from that day on he was far worse than you would ever be. Something about that cruel upper hand you had over him just made your stomach twist and all the right ways, who were you to not use this golden opportunity that fate had dealt you?

“You know, Dabi, I’ve read that book of yours.” He immediately sprung to life, eyes popping out their sockets. “_____, I can explain, it’s really not what you think it is-“ There it was. You dropped one harsh and heavy handed slap on his cheek with no hesitation and he was silent, effective immediately. “I don’t remember asking you to talk, Touya-kun. I read each and ever single one of those pages. You’re so sick, you know that?” you spat, tone seething and acidic. “‘Bet you liked that slap, didn’t you? Being pressed up underneath me like this? I know who you are, Touya: a perverted whore.”

Oh how he was shaking under you, legs turning inwards with his thighs pressed so cutely together to quell the sweltering heat in his pants. He was dripping, tip pumping up those sinful tears non stop ‘till it was so sticky. Touya’s brain had switched off, eyes unfocused on you but a sharp slap to his thigh, right next to the throbbing hardness brought him back whimpering. You finally released his throat, purpled bruise marks adorning his skin as he choked in air, just for it to be knocked out of his chest when you flipped him onto his back.

“From now on until I decide I’m done with you, you have no say. Shut up and take it like the slut you are. I will not listen to you but I don’t think it’s need anyway. I know you’ll enjoy every single second of it like the freak you are.” You weren’t asking, simply stating. You ripped down his stupid, tacky pants and slid in, no warning needed. Touya was undone with that, tears stinging hard, his lower half even harder but he liked the pain- so much that he came immediately, crying out already and you were incredulous at the realization.

You slapped his ass harshly. He didn’t deserve your mercy, not that he wanted it anyways. His dark hair was disheveled as you began hammering into him relentlessly. He cried from the overstimulation- it hurt so good. His body was absolutely shredded and you were far from finished with him- so far from it. His mind was not computing the stimulation, he was numb but felt everything at the same time. Was this an out of body experience because this didn’t feel real at all. He was bordering consciousness when you squeezed another high from his spent body already.

What time was it now? Touya was lost in a different plane when you finally pulled out, daylight peaking through shut blinds and he was limp. He was beyond useless and he- he felt you push in once more and shredded attempt at a scream erupted from his torn up vocal box. “Oh? So you are still awake. You better be, you will take what I give you, Touya.”And you were so pleased with your work, yhe points in which you had hit on his body were bruising, heat still so close to the surface of his skin and it was perfect for you.

#wix.writes #OK MAYBE ITS NOT THAT GREAT BUT ITS A START #dark content #dabi smut #bnha dabi #tw.overstimulation #tw.sadomasochism #tw.pseudo-incest #dabi.writing #mha smut #bnha smut #dabi x male reader #x top male reader

[idreamofplaid]

I Know You

Summary: Sometimes Sam needs to be reminded he needs more than books.

Characters: Sam x Reader

Word Count: 2145

A/N: I couldn’t find this one on my blog when I made my Masterlist so I’m reposting it now. There’s so much dirty talk and a slightly dom reader with a happy to switch Sam.

Sam’s discipline is a part of who he is. He keeps everything locked down. He eats clean. Sugar, preservatives, and “bad” fats never cross his ever so tempting lips. He monitors his thoughts and feelings, careful not to let too much out. It’s easy to miss this because Sam is so good at getting other people to talk with his deep, gentle voice and soft eyes. Sam understands; the very way he carries himself points to that. Pain is something the man you love is all too familiar with and has been since he came back from hell all those years ago.

Sam’s holding something inside tonight. He’s noticeably quieter than usual. His reflective mind was one of the things that drew you to him in the first place, but sometimes it’s necessary to pull Sam out of his thoughts, unlock his emotions, shatter his control.

The salad you made for him has barely been touched. All Sam’s attention is on a thick lore book lying open on the table next to his plate. His long, slender yet thick fingers are slowly turning pages. Something is driving Sam tonight, something he thinks he needs to find in that book, but it can wait.

You stand and walk around the table. Sam’s solid forearms are visible below the rolled cuffs of his flannel. You rest your hand on one of them just above his wrist and skim your fingers up his arm to his shoulder. Sam looks up. His eyes are a cloudy gray kissed by blue. His hair is hanging over his collar, tempting you to touch, and that’s the next place your hand goes.

Sam closes his eyes when your fingers start to knead the back of his neck. Your hand is beneath his hair now, and it’s soft on your knuckles. A half exhale, half moan escapes from him; it’s an invitation to kiss him while you continue to massage his neck. 

Sam’s mouth opens under yours, and you know you were right about what he needs. You settle yourself in his lap and deepen the kiss. His tongue is warm and sure as it swirls around yours. You can feel Sam’s hand at the back of your waist drawing you to him. You grind your hips into his lap and another moan, deeper this time, flows from his mouth into yours.

“Sam, I think we’d be more comfortable in the bedroom.” His eyes are darker when he opens them, pupils blown with need. He only glances at the open book and the remains of his salad on the table for a second before he nods to you.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Sam’s hand is at your waist as he guides you into his bedroom. There’s no slamming doors, no ripping off clothes. His actions are still controlled. It’s Sam Winchester’s way to survive. 

Very soon he’s going to remember he gets to have his own life and doesn’t have to focus on saving the world every waking moment; it’s time to let go. You put your hand on Sam’s stomach and push him back against the wall. Even through his layers, you can feel the muscles there. You swipe your tongue around your top lip and bite the bottom one. It’s an easy slide underneath his shirt to feel the skin on his abdomen. “Are you this hard everywhere, Sam, or do I still have some work to do?”

He squeezes his eyes shut briefly before opening them to look at you. His chest is heaving slowly. You know what your words do to him. The smile that crosses your face is playful and easy. “Why don’t I find out?”

You sink to your knees in front of him and make a point of taking your time with his belt and zipper continuing to push just the right buttons while you do. “I want you hard for me, Sam. So hard your thick cock is twitching, aching to pound into me. And I’m going to take all of you. I’m going to make you fit, and I’m going to be so tight around you. I love it when you’re as deep as you can get. That sweet pressure feels so good. I want that, Sam.”

When you pulled his jeans and boxers down his thighs, Sam was fully hard. He was hard and leaking precum in a steady flow. “Can I have a taste before you sink this huge cock inside me?” Sam grunted his reply, put his hands in your hair, and pulled you to him.

That first taste of Sam was always the best, salty nectar on your tongue. You made circles around his tip and listened to him gasp. His fingers tightened in your hair until it started to pull. “Fuck, Y/N.”

You started to bob your head on his shaft. “Maybe I’ll just do this for awhile. Edge you until you have tears in your eyes, and you’re begging me for it.”

Sam’s cock throbbed in your mouth. “You’d like that wouldn’t you, Sam? Desperate for me to let you come.”

He was clenching his jaw now and grabbing your hair. “Y/N.”

You pulled your mouth from him with a deliciously wet and dirty sound then rose to your full height, so your face was close to his when you looked in his eyes and whispered. “What do you want, my love?” You skimmed your knuckles down Sam’s jaw and over the hint of a beard that was beginning to grow there. The only thing you could hear was Sam breathing shallow and fast.

In the next second, he circled your wrist with his massive hand and pulled you against him. “You know what I want.” Sam kissed you hard and deep. He stripped your shirt over your head and threw it to the floor, cupped one of your breasts and started to flick your nipple with his thumb through the fabric of your bra.

You arched back to give him better access. “That’s it, baby, make me hot for it. Make me wet for you.” With a groan, Sam started to suck your neck beneath your ear. It was going to leave a mark, and that’s exactly what you wanted. 

“Mmm, Sam. You’re making me clench around nothing.” You dug your fingers into his back as your body tightened again around the emptiness.

Sam moved his mouth from your neck and placed it by your ear while his hand eased inside your panties, and his fingers found your clit. “Tell me what you want. Tell me exactly what you want me to do to you.”

His fingers teased you, and you whimpered. He circled your clit and moved them through your folds, but he didn’t push them inside you. There was no relief for the growing ache you had to be filled. “Fuck me. With your fingers, your tongue, your cock. Do it, Sam.”

He pulled his fingers away from your core and lifted them to your mouth. Sam brushed your wetness across your lips. Then he put his fingers in his own mouth and sucked them clean. He closed his eyes while he did it, and when he opened them again; you saw a distinct hunger there. “I want more of you.”

Sam lifted you from the floor, and you wrapped your legs around his waist. He carried you to the bed, kissing you passionately while he did. You felt the mattress, solid beneath your back, when he put you down. It was grounding when the sight of Sam before you threatened to make you forget how to breathe. He took off his shirt and let it drop to the bed beside him. 

You had only a second or two to appreciate his lean and muscled body before he peeled off your yoga pants and underwear, spread your legs wide, and began to take what he’d started to the next level. Sam’s hands were on your thighs, keeping them open, while his tongue lapped at your clit. He moved his mouth down to your opening and let his tongue slide in. At first, it was like a kiss. He moved his tongue slowly, in circles, tasting you. Your hands grabbed at his hair. “More, Sam. Please, more.” He started quick shallow thrusts with his tongue, and your clit started to ache. “Touch me. I need you to touch me.”

You arched your back when his fingers found your clit, and his tongue plunged deeper. The faster he moved his fingers, his tongue found the rhythm to match. Just when you were right on the edge of your orgasm snapping and washing through your body, he switched. Sam put his long, thick fingers inside you, curled them to find your g spot, and he started to rub it. His lips latched onto your clit, and he sucked until you came so hard you screamed loud enough for everyone in the bunker to hear.

Sam moved up your body to prop himself over you on his forearms. You grabbed at his shoulders and held on, needing to feel him. “That’s my girl.” He placed soft kisses on your cheek by your ear while you caught your breath. “I’m not done with you. I’m going to make you shake again. Harder next time.”

Sam’s lips were on yours, and he was kissing you right back into wanting him again even though your body still hadn’t recovered from the first orgasm. He kissed down the center of your body until his head was between your breasts and stopped long enough to remove your bra so he could give your nipples some attention.

The same way his mouth had worked over your clit and inside you, he did the same with your nipples. At first the kisses were slow, his tongue circling around and over each bud. Your moans came faster this time and when they were steadily falling from your mouth, Sam sank his middle and ring fingers deep inside you and started to pump them. True to his word, Sam gave you a second orgasm even more powerful than the first.

Sam was on his side next to you now, he rubbed his nose against your neck and let your hair cover his face. His erection was pressing into you. You pushed his shoulder, rolling him onto his back. “It’s my turn now. I think I promised to make you cry.” You stroked Sam’s length until the precum was running down his shaft. 

Sam was fairly quiet in bed, until he was really turned on. The grunts he was making told you he was losing his control. “I want you inside me, Sam. I want you to fill me, stretch me, make me take every single bit of you. Give it to me so hard and deep I don’t know if I can take anymore. Don’t show me any mercy, Sam. None.”

His cock lay hard and leaking against his stomach. You guided him to your entrance and lowered yourself onto him slowly, one inch at a time. Sam’s hands were grabbing at the sheets, making fists, and pulling them from the bed. “You’re mine, aren’t you, Sam? I’m the one who gets to make you feel good.” He was all the way inside you now. 

You started to ride him, moving your hips in a slow undulating motion. “Y/N.” He grabbed your hips and started to lift you. Up and down, he moved your body faster on his cock. You bounced on his length and took your breasts in your hands, giving him quite the show. Sam’s neck and cheeks flushed pink just before he came hot inside you.

You collapsed on top of him, and Sam wrapped his arms around your back. After a few minutes of holding you, he started to glide his fingertips up and down your back. “You didn’t make me cry. Change your mind?”

You raised up and kissed his nose. “I decided to go easy on you.” You pulled at his bottom lip with your finger. “There’s always next time.” You kissed him, lingering and soft.”

Sam ran his fingers through your hair. “You always know what I need, Y/N.”

“I hope so.” You lowered your head. “It isn’t always books, Sam. You deserve more than that.”

“It’s been hard for me to get used to that, you know?” You lifted your head, and Sam brushed the hair from your face. “It still seems too good to be true. I know we don’t have a picket fence, but this is more than I ever thought I’d have.” Sam stopped talking and took your hand in his, then he brought it to his mouth and kissed it.” You understand me. Thank you.”

You kissed his cheek in response. “There’s still so much more I want to give you, Sam.” This man deserved everything. 

Everything: @gambitwinchester @princessmisery666 @peridottea91 @logical-princey @emilyshurley @beenlovingromansincedayoneish @fangirlxwritesx67 @waywardbaby @atc74 @shaniquacynthia @mariekoukie6661 @tumbler-tidbits @67-chevy-baby @fandom-princess-forevermore @terrarium-jpeg @emoryhemsworth @crashdevlin @jules-1999 @cosicas-cuquis @sammyimpala-67 @queenoftheunderdark @dean-winchesters-bacon @timelordy-fangirl2 @sweetness47 @hobby27 @awesomesusiebstuff @kickingitwithkirk @sandlee44 @supernaturalgrandma @volleyballer519 @kdfrqqg @lizette50 @daisymoder72 @sorenmarie87 @lovealways-j @mrswhozeewhatsis @spnbaby-67 @wayward-and-worn @thinkinghardhardlythinking @petitgateau911 

Sam/Jared: @girl-next-door-writes @stunudo @feelmyroarrrr @idabbleincrazy @evansrogerskitten @focusonspn @autumninavonlea @durinsbride​ @deansyahtzee​ @waywardnerd67​ @fullmooner​ @sams-sass​ @beskaradberoya​

#sam x reader #sam smut #sam fluff #sam oneshot #sam x y/n

[futurewriter2000]

If I can't have you, nobody can - pt. 7

A/N: Bruh... I have such a headache but this is coming out quite well. I think a part or two and I'm done with this serie. Enjoy <3

XX

You had been stuck behind a book that you didn't much enjoy but still wanted to finish. It wasn't easy since it had too many uneccessary details that only dragged on through the page. You tried to follow it but your mind kept wandering off.

You could finish this book in a day. You knew that but it was so dull that was why it took you so long to finish it in the first place.

But as you were finally getting into it something flew on your desk.

A letter.

From James.

You felt your heart cut itself into two, three, billion of pieces as you stared at the envelope. Taking it in your hands, you wanted to rip it open but at the same time, you were terrified to see what was written inside.

Since your little encounter with James, the little sleepover you had, you had started to experience an odd feeling in your heart and stomach. Some minutes you thought of him, found yourself seeing his face, his hazel eyes watching you from the balcony. How he wrapped you in a blanket and how he took care of you like a true gentleman.

It made you smile and blush in the moment.

But he was a taken man. He was in love with Lily Evans and you had not spoken to any of them, besides James that night, in almost a year.

You let the envelope stay on the desk.

"I'll see what I want to do with it."

---

You've walked about hundred of steps down the kitchen floor. Pacing... contemplating and watching it as if it was watching you back.

You hadn't got a single clue why you were being so dramatic about it. It wasn't an acceptance letter, or a description of your death. It was a letter.

Nevertheless, you threw yourself at it and grabbed it. You opened it gently and you could feel your heart beating through your entire body.

"I'll pick you up at three." said the voice behind you, causing you to jump from your seat and point your wand at him. "Woah, woah, woah!" he lifted his hands above his shoulders and started to laugh.

"JAMES YOU- YOU FUCKING FUCK FUCK!" you bent over to catch a breath. "You can't just apparate into my home like that."

"It's a fancy one." he laughed, walking around the kitchen and looking around. "You have zero photos of you or your family. " he mentioned as he kept looking around.

"Yeah... well... we're not your ordinary family." you pulled yourself together and leaned back on the counter. "What-"

"Have you opened my letter just now?" he cut you off and narrowed his eyes at you. "I've sent it around 10am."

"I wasn't planning on opening it, to be honest." you spoke sincerely.

"Ouch." he placed his hand on his heart. "It wouldn't have mattered anyway. I'm here and we're going out."

"We're not going anywhere." you said, grabbing the letter and throwing it in a trash can.

"Oh, come on. We always used to sneak out-"

"No, James. You don't understand." you shot your head at him, furrowing your eyebrows. "You can't just come in here and pretend that we're those kids again- those stupid kids from Hogwarts who didn't spend a day apart. Maybe that kid would go with you right now but this-" you gestured to yourself. "That kid grew up into this. Into an adult, who has responsibilities to take care of."

"All of us have responsibilities." James said more seriously. "I just want us to reconnect again. I want to-" he stopped himself. Something stopped him but you hadn't take notice to it.

"You have Lily to go back to, James." you said out of the blue, almost broken as you did and he took notice of that. He spent years loving every single part of you. Don't you think he hasn't noticed whenever something wasn't right with you. He has. Even when you stopped talking to each other back in Hogwarts.

"You want me to leave and never return?" he asked and you looked at him with a bit of surprise. "Okay." he said and he could see your eyes pleading otherwise. "I'll go and never return. I'll go back to my job and work hard until I can afford a ring so I can propose to Lily. We'll have a big wedding and have a family, loads of them children..." he started to glare at you. "That's what you want."

"Yes." you spoke more of envy than truth.

"Fine but since we won't ever talk or see each other again because you have responsibilities, I might as well tell you."

"Tell me what?"

He stormed towards you until the two of you were inches apart. Before you could say anything, he spoke first. "I fell in love with you when we were both 14 years old and I was mad furious when I saw that you didn't give me a span of a second to notice it. And for those four years I had tried to catch your attention but your attention was always on somebody else. I was jealous, immensely and we stopped talking to you because I was in love with you and you were in love with somebody else. "

"No." you shook your head and took a step back because everything that he was doing sent the wrong chemicals to your brain. You couldn't think straight when he was so close, that the heat from his chest literally radiated onto yours and the breathing of his, furious and attractive, was the only thing you could hear. "I thought I was in love with him. I truly did and when a person gets attached to somebody the line between love and attachment is very blurred." you pushed him away. "I was in love with you." you shoved him again and he felt all of his power waver, his dominance fade and his eyes bulk out from surprise.

"Surprised?" you scoffed, crossing your arms over your chest and smiling. "I was too when all I kept wanting was for you to look at me back in school. But you didn't. Because with Sirius it was fun and games and goofing around but with you shit was real. There weren't only butterflies and happiness, there were all sorts of emotions that I was so afraid of but then imagine you going for the red-head, a Gryffindor, of course. And I was furious and jealous and sad but I made it through and when you were not talking, Sirius still did. Sirius would look at me and he would still let me know I exist."

"YOU DID EXIST! YOU ALWAYS EXISTED INSIDE OF ME!" he started to shout.

"THEN WHY DID YOU LEAVE!?"

"BECAUSE I THOUGHT YOU LOVED HIM MORE THAN ME! AND IF I COULDN'T HAVE YOU, NOBODY COULD!" he started to cry, breathing out a suffocating sob as if he had held it for years and years on. "I've been watching you love him for years. And as a kid, you don't process emotions as you do when you're older but it's coming after me." he continued to look at you as you stood there, speechless. "When you and Sirius talk about this stupid bond the two of you have, it pisses me off and then you tell me that you love me and all I am is confused. It makes me feel left out. It makes me feel like I'm not good enough and you're putting all your feelings and emotions of what that kid did to you. That kid didn't know any better and I can't go back and tell him to not fuck this up. He already fucked it up and I feel that no matter how much I apologised, you wouldn't forgive me. Don't you think I don't know that I hurt you? I am well aware of that and it tears me up inside but I'm trying to fix it and that has to count for something, (y/n). I'm trying but you're not letting me."

You stood there watching him sit down on the chair and take deep, calm breaths in.

"Alright." you said at last and he looked up at you confused. "I'll just get dressed and we'll leave."

#james potter #james potter x reader #james potter imagine #sirius black #sirius black x reader #sirius black imagine #marauders #marauders x reader #marauders imagine

[k-llama-llama]

All Too Much

SuperM/WayV AU: 8th member (YinYin)

Before SuperM promotions begin, YinYin deals with her stress.

Word Count: 1100

A/N: Thank you all for your lovely messages as I’ve taken this month off. I’m still not committing to a regular schedule, but I’ll be active again! (Patreon will be back to normal in February)

Requests are Open…and your feedback is still super important to me.

Masterlist and other Follow Me links in bio!

YinYin ripped the page out of her notebook and crumpled it up, throwing it against the wall. She’d been trying to write her journal page to submit to her Korean tutor for two hours, but she wasn’t having any luck. She just knew that every single draft she’d done was riddled with mistakes, and no amount of consulting her workbooks or googling was helping her.

She was weeks away from her first Korean promotions for SuperM and she couldn’t even write a full paragraph in Korean without messing it up.

It wasn’t that she couldn’t speak Korean, she could hold a conversation with any of the boys without any trouble. The issue was, when she was with WayV or NCT they were almost all coming from the same boat, where they had to juggle different languages depending on who they were talking to. If she forgot a word, she could switch and someone would fill in the blanks.

But she couldn’t do that with SuperM, and she definitely couldn’t do that in interviews.

It didn’t matter how good she was at dancing or singing if she couldn’t even form a coherent sentence when it counted.

She threw her pen against the door, growling in frustration. She collapsed back on her bed, staring at the bunk above her. She’d affixed a pronunciation guide for the lyrics to one of their songs there, hoping that she would learn it in her sleep.

She groaned. It was literally impossible to escape her failure.

“You done?”

YinYin turned her head, watching as Lucas leaned his head over the side of the bunk bed and peered down at her. “What do you mean?”

“You’re throwing your failures all over our room.” He gestured to the growing piles of crumpled paper littering their floor. “So are you done?”

“Am I giving up, do you mean?” YinYin sighed. “Because the answer is yes. I’m a failure.”

“What exactly are you failing at?” His head disappeared, and she heard noises as he scrambled to climb down the bed.

“I don’t want to talk about it.” In an attempt to distract herself, she pulled one leg up to her head, stretching it out.

“Stop that.”

“Stop what?” Lucas was standing next to her bed.

“Stop being a human pretzel and move over.” He shoved her, and she rolled closer to the wall to make room for him.

He flopped down beside her, staring up at the notes taped to the top of her bed. “You never stop, do you?”

“Nope.” She frowned. “We start filming for promotions in nine days and I’m nowhere near good enough.”

“At what? I thought you said you had all of the choreography down.”

“Of course I do.” She glared at him. “I mean Korean. And English, too.” She pointed at a sheet of English vocab words with her toe.

“You’re stressing about Korean?” He looked confused. “Why?”

“Because we have interviews to do, dumbass. And I can barely speak the language.”

“That’s not true. You’re good at Korean.”

“I’m good at Korean the way a tourist is good at Korean.” She sighed. “I can’t order food without planning out what I’m going to say.”

“So? Neither can I.” Lucas laughed. “No one cares, YinYin.”

“Sure, you don’t care. Your Korean and English is a lot better than mine. Besides you’re…urgh, nevermind.”

“I’m what?” He elbowed her.

“Nothing.”

“No, now you have to tell me.” He poked her side. “I’m what?”

YinYin rolled her eyes. “Not sure if you’re aware, but people treat tall, funny, handsome men a lot different than they treat tiny, awkward Chinese girls who are only good at bending.”

“You think I’m handsome?”

“I’m just conveying popular opinion, you’re not my style.”

“Still, you said I was handsome.” He smirked. “And seriously, Yin, I don’t think you need to worry about it. Any place where you get confused or stressed Ten or I can cover for you. Or Taeyong and Mark, they’ve both worked with you before too.”

“But what about the others.” She insisted. “I can’t expect them to be worrying about whether I can understand stuff.”

“They’re in your group now, of course it’s their job to worry about you.” Lucas argued. “And besides, I really don’t think it’s going to be that big of a problem.”

“You don’t get it.” She covered her eyes with her arm, trying to block out the stress.

“And I’m not going to get it unless you tell me.” He nudged her again. “Come on, best friend, spill.”

“Just…” She searched for the right words. “Thinking about getting on stage in front of all those people and not…not being able to speak and them all staring…it’s just…”

“Hey, hey.” Lucas pulled her arm away from her face. “Stop freaking out.”

“Thanks, Lucas, that’s a huge help. Why didn’t I think of that before?” She glared at him, fully aware that her eyes were welling up with tears.

“Yin, it’s not worth your stress.” He promised, rubbing her shoulder.

“I’m going to embarrass the whole group.” She said quietly.

“No, you’re not.” Lucas sighed, before pulling her into a hug. She pressed her face into his shoulder, trying to hide the fact that she was obviously close to crying. “If everyone is staring, it’s going to be because they can’t believe you’re out-dancing Taemin.”

“I can’t outdance Taemin.” She said quietly.

“You can outdance anyone.” He promised, patting her hair. “And I promise that no one is going to stare or laugh or care if you mispronounce something. You speak more languages than anyone in the audience anyways.”

YinYin let out a shuddering breath, and didn’t say anything.

Lucas just squeezed her a bit tighter. “You’re really stressed, aren’t you?”

“I feel like crying.” She said, answering his question.

“Go ahead. I won’t tell anyone.”

“You won’t?”

“Of course not.” She could practically feel him smile as he considered his next words. “I mean…I’ll make fun of you for the rest of our lives, but it’ll be our little secret.”

YinYin let out a little laugh. “You’re the worst.”

“But you love me.” He grinned as she pulled her face away from his shoulder to look up at him. “Better?”

“Slightly.” She leaned into his shoulder. “Thanks.”

“Anytime.” He looked up at her study notes again. “So this is actually depressing. Do you want to go get ice cream or something?”

She gave him a knowing look.

“Fine.” He relented. “We can get frozen yogurt.”

YinYin smiled. “If I can’t speak Korean, at least I’ll have nice abs.”

“But will you ever truly be happy without eating ice cream?

#superm #nct #nct imagines #wayv #wayv imagines #superm imagines #nct au #wayv au #superm au #requests open #au #kpop #imagines #imagine #kpop au #kpop imagines #female kpop #female!kpop

[all-my-love-for-harry]

Delicate. — Part 1.

word count: 2.6k

a/n: Here we are fam, i gotta be honest with y’all, this is heavily inspired in the fact that i watched Miss Americana twice this month, what resulted in me going through my taylor swfit phase again. Pls bare with me, i haven’t written anything like this before.

catch up here!

They said artists become what they are because deep down they are as insecure if not more than normal people. Because they craved constant validation in what they do. 

At least it was the case for Y/n. 

A girl who has built an entire system around being accepted by the public, someone who their major source of happiness is provided by strangers all around the world. When you are living from the approval of strangers and that is where you drive all your joy and fulfillment, one bad thing can cause everything to go down. Y/n has spent her whole life trying to please the world so they would like her, so what she has achieved over the years would last. 

When the world turned their back on her, Y/n had no choice but to disappear, because she thought that was what everyone wanted. Even then, she made her choices around what she thought would make them happy.

Y/n knew she could not hide forever, but for now, it was a necessary evil she had to take. Deciding to take a break from everything was the healthiest decision she has ever made, shutting down her social media, getting out of the city and going back home with her family was exactly what she needed. 

"Mom was sad she couldn't pick you up from the airport."

Seventeen-year-old Jensen, whose driving license was still new and fresh, was the one who picked Y/n up when her flight landed. In complete honesty, she did not like using a private plane, but she could not risk someone seeing where she was going. Jensen was good at driving, well, he has not crashed into a tree yet, so they were safe. 

"She would've brought Chase and scare Pandora and Lizzie." 

Jensen chuckled. "She's obsessed with him. I haven't started college yet and she's already thinking about turning my room into Chase's." 

Her parents’ house was a gated property away from others since it was safer that way. Y/n would not stay there the whole time since she had her own apartment a little closer to town. Her luggage, as well as her cats, were picked up separately and taken to her home, she would go there after lunch with her family. Jensen parked next to a black range rover that belonged to their dad, meaning both of their parents were home. 

Y/n threw her backpack over her shoulder as she stepped out of the car, eager to finally reunite with her family, especially her mother. She is in desperate need of a tight hug, a mug of hot chocolate and a shoulder to cry on. Y/n did not realize how mentally drained she was until she saw her mother open the front door. 

"My baby!" Louise exclaimed, embracing her daughter in a tight hug. "How was the flight?" 

"It was fine. I'm starving though." 

They walked into the living room and Louise closed the door behind them. Y/n dropped her backpack on one of the couches and sighed in relief. “Where’s dad?” Jensen went straight to the kitchen and opened the fridge.

“Get the white wine.” Y/n told him.

“It’s too early to drink that.” Louise took the bottle from Jensen’s hands and put it back in the fridge. “Dad’s outside. We bought some roses that will look beautiful by the pool.”

“You’re buying a lot of plants lately.” Y/n pointed a big vase full of daisies, her mom’s favorites, on the kitchen’s island. 

“I like supporting local business.” She shrugged.

“That and she’s obsessed with the owner of the flower shop.” Jensen chuckled, cracking open a water bottle. 

“Hey! That’s not true.” 

“Mom, you there like… every day. Who needs new flowers every day?”

“Shush.” The elder woman faked offense then gigged. “Handsome young man, he is. I’ll take you tomorrow.” She turned to Y/n. 

“Oh, no, mom. I’m going to lock myself in my apartment and try to write.” She said, making Louise scoff. “I’m serious!”

“I know you are. But living like a hermit is not going to do you any good.”

“I agree, sis.” 

Y/n rolled her eyes, knowing they were right as always but did not want to admit it. The truth was, she wanted to write some songs, so badly, but could not find the right words. She was hoping to get some peace and quiet to get her ideas and emotions in order again. Before any of them could say anything else, David entered the kitchen while taking off his gardening gloves and smiled widely when he spotted Y/n.

“And who do we have here?”

“Hi, dad.” Y/n smiled at him brightly before wrapping her arms around her dad, who hugged her back just as tight. 

“Good to have you home, darling.” 

The family of four sat on the kitchen island and started to catch up. Jensen talked about his different college options and how he was considering getting a summer job this year. Louise kept talking about how nice the owner of this flower shop was, making emphasis on how he was also single. Y/n didn’t know what she was trying to do, but she didn’t pay much attention either. 

Overall it was nice for Y/n to get out of her head for a little bit, and her family was always a great help for that. She knew she still had a lot to deal with, and she would probably get a call from her publicist and a lot of other people soon, but for now, she just wanted to think about anything else that wasn't the whole world hating on her. 

"How are you doing, Y/n? Be honest." Her mom asked after they stayed alone in the kitchen.

"Been better." She sighed. "I don't want to think about it, mom."

"You have to talk to someone, sweetie. I know your team cares for you and is trying to handle the situation, but you can still talk to me."

"I know, thank you. I'm just trying to figure it what I'm going to do."

Louise sighed. "You sure you don't want to stay here? You have your room and everything."

"Thanks for the offer, mom. But I sort of want to be on my own." She said. "But I'll come for lunch every day, I promise."

Although Louise wasn't convinced by her daughter's words, she chose to not push it. She knew Y/n had her own ways to express her feelings, and she'd talk whenever she felt like it. So she let her go, making her promise she'd come to visit soon.

"Do you need a ride? I'm going to town anyway." Jensen offered, taking the keys of his car from the little plate they kept on the table beside the front door. 

"Yes, please."

The drive to her apartment wasn't a long one, and in less than ten minutes she was opening her front door and being greeted by her two beautiful cats rubbing themselves on her legs. Y/n sighed, thinking about how much she needed to unpack now that she was here. The truth was, she didn't know for how long she'd be staying here, but she figured it'd be a long time so she packed a lot. Now she kind of regretted it because she would probably be in her pajamas all day anyway. 

After cleaning Pandora and Lizzie's sandbox, Y/n decided to grab an acoustic guitar and try to come up with some melodies. She wasn't quite sure about any lyrics yet, but it was always good to have a little something to start a song. 

She went from playing the guitar to play the piano, hoping she'd get more inspirations somewhere. But she had nothing. Not even one decent note. She was empty. 

"Don't pretend is... mhmm. Think about the... No." She groaned and slammed the palm of her hands on the keyboard, growing frustrated. Why all of a sudden she couldn't even rhyme? Maybe she needed a break, or perhaps she was tired from her flight and tomorrow she'd be able to write something.

//

Turns out her writer's block was here to stay. A week has passed since her arrival and Y/n hasn't been able to finish one single song. Everything she started ended up being erased or in the middle of her living room after the ripped the page off her journal. 

"I told you, you shouldn't hurry. Inspiration will come eventually, it always does."

"I guess. I just have nothing else to do other than play scrabble with you and write songs, or at least try to."

"Let me take out then." Louise started and Y/n shakes her head. "C'mon, let's eat somewhere or buy groceries and I'll cock at your place." Y/n looked at her mom and realized she wouldn't stop until she accepted, so Y/n offered Louise a nod. "Marvelous. There's this little café that I absolutely love. You'll love the owner."

"What is it with you and the owners of local shops?"

"They're my friends. Oh! We could drop by Blossom House. You could use some flowers around your house so it would look like somebody actually lives there."

"Stop dragging me, woman."

Louise drove them to this café called Furry Cakes, which turned out to be a cat café. Y/n obviously lost it as soon as they walked in, and nearly cried when she saw all the kittens, and absolutely shed a tear when the girl behind the register said every kitty except for one named Chaster was up for adoption. She felt like a little girl all over again when her mom told her she couldn't take every single kitty home. 

Y/n was wearing a hoodie that was twice her size, plus some big sunglasses she refused to take off, even inside of the café. She was praying she wouldn't get recognized as she knew people were dying for a picture of her, see how she was after the entire world canceled her. 

"We'll leave the car parked here, the flower shop is just around the corner." Louise pulled from Y/n's hand to make her walk faster. There weren't a lot of people on the streets and she was grateful for that, she hasn't gotten a proper walk in what felt like ages. 

They stopped outside a modern-looking building with a big, bright sign that read 'The Blossom House'. It was simple yet cute. The pair stepped in and a little bell ringed. Y/n looked around, admiring how everything looked like it was straight out of a fairytale. There were little pots hanging from the ceiling and she looked up, she saw the ceiling was pure glass, which made the whole place brighter. Flowers weren't really her thing as she could barely keep them alive, but seeing this amount of flowers all in the same place... made her somewhat happy and warm inside. 

She was so deep in thought she didn't even realize her mom left her and was nowhere to be found. It doesn't look like it from outside, but the shop was actually big and very spacious. It was also empty right now, not even an employee was around, so she decided to have a look on her own. It looked like they had all kinds of flowers in here, which made her even more excited because that meant they had-

"Azaleas? They're also my favorites." A deep voice interrupted her thoughts. She jumped on her place as she wasn't expecting it, which made the person behind her chuckle. "I didn't mean to scare you, sorry."

"It's okay..." She turned around and it was fair to say that was she saw stunned her right away.

In front of her, a gorgeous looking man was standing there with a bright smile on his face. She noticed the two dimples poking at each side of his face, making his smile even more beautiful. His emerald green eyes were the greenest eyes she has ever seen in her life, she believed. He had crinkles by his eyes due to his smile being wide. But to her, the icing of the cake was the beautiful mop of chocolate curls he had on the top of his head. She suddenly felt the insane urge to run her hands through it just to see if they were as soft as they looked. 

"Harry, darling!" Louise appeared out of nowhere and wrapped her arms around the man, who only chuckled while reciprocating the greeting.

"Hello, Louise. What's it gonna be today? Tulips? More daisies?" Oh God, he's British. Y/n thought to herself. 

"Gosh, you know me so well. I'm actually here just to look around, I see you found my daughter though." She smirked.

"I surely did. I'm Harry, nice to meet you, love." He offered her a hand for her to shake.

Y/n was a little surprised by the pet name but took his hand nonetheless. "I'm Y/n, nice to meet you too."

"I want her to get some plants for her house." Louise spoke again.

"Well, you're in the right place then." He said. "Do you want them for your garden?"

"No, uhm... I don't have one. I live in an apartment."

"Personally, my favorite to keep indoors are Begonias." Harry guided the two women to a different section of the flower shop and pointed to some pretty ones in pink color. "But I also enjoy Daylilies, although they're a little harder to maintain."

"Yeah, maybe not those then. I'm not very good at keeping plants alive."

"She killed a cactus once." Louise mentioned. 

"No way." 

"I didn't know they'd drown if I watered them more than once a week!" Y/n defended herself. 

"Amateur mistake." He joked. 

The truth was Y/n was too busy to have a garden, she was always traveling and didn't stay too long in one place so even if she tries to have one, it'd be dead by the end of the month. 

"What plants are cat friendly? I have two at home."

"Bromeliads are cat friendly, they're easy to maintain too."

They looked around for a little bit. Harry said a fun fact about every type of flower Y/n pointed out, never failing to make her laugh. The funny thing was, it didn't look like Harry knew who she was. Either he hasn't recognized her, or he didn't know about her. Which by the way, not to be a narcissist, would be highly unlikely.

She ended up taking a couple of new plants home, starting to grow excited about them. It was true, her apartment could use a little more life to it, and now she was sure her new plants would do that for her. Harry was wrapping everything for them while he stood behind the counter.

"Oh, here. This one's on the house." Harry handed her a pot with some beautiful blue Azaleas. She took them with a growing blush on her face, a blush that went deeper when their hands brushed with each other. "Try to not kill them though." He teased.

Y/n rolled her eyes as her mom chuckled behind her. "I'll report their aliveness back to you, you'll see."

"You better. Have a nice day, ladies. I'm guessing I'll see you around, Y/n?"

"Sure, I'm uh... I'm living here right now."

Harry smiled at them one last time before they exited the shop. After the door closed behind them, Louise turned to Y/n. "He likes you."

"Don't be ridiculous."

"What do you say if we invite him for dinner sometime?"

"Like, at your house?" She asked surprised.

"Yeah, why not?"

"I have to keep a low profile, mother. For all I know he could be tweeting about I just exited his shop."

"Don't let the paranoia ruin the possibility of forming new friendships... or more." Louise sent her a wink.

"Okay, that's enough."

Y/n brushed her off, trying not to think much about it. A new friendship sounded impossible at this point of her life, let alone pursuing a new relationship with someone. She had made up her mind, she was better off being alone.

#harry styles #harry styles imagine #harry styles imagines #harry styles one shot #harry styles one shots #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x reader #harry styles x you #harry styles series #harry styles blurb #harry styles blurbs #harry styles au #harry styles fluff #harry styles fluffy imagine #harry styles fluff fic #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fic #florist!harry styles

[justpan]

Title: Unwilling Bride

Summary: At last it is time for the battle between Pirates and Lost Boys.

Pairing: Peter x Reader

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17 Part 18 Part 19 Part 20 Part 21 Part 22 Part 23 Part 24 Part 25 Part 26 Part 27 Part 28 Part 29 Part 30 Part 31

Everything was on track.

The camp was moved, the fences were ready; even better, Tootles found a way to put them all on a single pulley system.

One rope cut and all the fences would drop down in sync, that meant that the archers wouldn’t need to waste arrows trying to trigger them each individually.

Peter made good on his word, he was watching the pirates, constantly. You wouldn’t be surprised if he wasn’t sleeping at all.

All he seemed to do was sit up in the tallest trees he could find, send his shadow to locate the enemy, and report his findings to Felix who was patrolling the new camp.

‘Any news?’ you asked as Felix approached you.

‘They are less than a day away from the battle ground.’

‘Finally, guess we’d better get our asses in gear, can’t be late for our own party.’ you smiled excitedly.

‘BOYS!!! GET READY, THE GAME IS ABOUT TO START!!!’ Pan yelled as he marched into the camp.

His back was straight and he had a glint in his eye, the smile on his face was shark like and dangerous.

Like the smile you saw the first day you met him, it was as if he was on top of the world.

‘You heard me didn’t you? Get to the battle ground, or you’ll miss all the fun!’ he shouted.

The boys cheered nice and loud, and almost instantly the camp was hectic.

Everyone was running around grabbing their weapons, already laced with dreamshade.

‘You ready squirrel?’ Rufio asked.

‘As ready as I can be, little bird.’ you smiled.

‘I bet I can take down more pirates than you.’ he grinned.

‘Oh, yeah? What’s the wager?’

‘How about...if I win we try to take things further.’ Rufio suggested.

Your breath got caught in your throat, you hadn’t expected that to be on his mind right before you ran into battle.

‘And if I win?’

‘Then...we’ll do whatever you want.’

‘And if I want to take things further...what then?’ you asked, a small smile pulling at your lip.

‘Then I guess it’s a win win for us.’

Well, it looked like you were both on the same page, you both wanted to. There was a battle hours away, and by the time you got back to your room the two of them would be bloody and exhausted.

You couldn’t think of a more perfect way to lose your virginity.

‘A win win.’ you smiled.

‘Yeah?’ Rufio asked, a hopeful look in his eyes.

‘Yes, really, I’m still gonna take out more geezers than you.’ you grinned.

‘We’ll see.’

‘Hey! Be cute later, we gotta get moving and fast.’ Felix said, dragging the two of you along with the others.

You quickly shook away your feelings and started getting mentally ready for the battle; you couldn’t afford any distractions. Because this wasn’t training, it was a real battle with an opponent that would kill you if you gave them the chance.

Everything needed to go right, the fences, the arrows, the fight. Most important was the feeling.

This fight needed to feel like a guaranteed win; every Lost Boy needed to believe they would live through this fight and every pirate they let live needed to feel like it was a mistake to challenge The Lost Boys.

Once you all arrived everyone got in position, you saw Rufio taking his place with the clubs, Felix with the clubs.

Pan was standing in the middle of the clearing, watching over everything.

You walked over to him, to go over everything one last time.

‘How long?’

‘They should be here in less than an hour.’ he replied.

‘Their numbers?’

‘Less than fifty.’

‘Good, we got the mass and the skills...but I feel like something is wrong.’ you said to yourself.

‘Whatever it is we have no time to dwell on it, get down.’ Pan said.

You nodded and used your magic to put a door into the hollow tree behind Pan, you stood there and charmed the door to close.

In the dark you made sure you still had enough room for your arms to move the way you needed to work your magic.

With that done you put up a spell on the bark in front of you so you could see the clearing.

It looked like everyone was in place, now it was just a matter of time.

You watched in anticipation as the quiet settled over the camp, all you heard was your own breathing.

At last you could hear a rustle from the trees, and watched as the pirates entered the clearing.

‘I take it you are not here to deliver a box of cakes.’ Pan said smugly.

‘No I’m not.’ the one you knew to be Captain Hook said in false politeness.

‘Then why are you and your friends here? Did you want to play a game?’

‘No games this time Pan.’

‘There’s always a game, and this one is called...Pirates and Hunters. You can be the pirates.’ Pan grinned before he whistled.

The arrow zipped through the air and like magic the fences dropped down and closed in the clearing.

Immediately the clubs and swords jumped out of the trees.

‘Let’s play!’ Pan yelled.

You watched the pirates pull out their swords and listened to their war cry as the much anticipated battle finally began.

All you wanted was to be in the middle of it, but you had to keep your eyes sharp, that was your job; make sure none of your own were killed in the scuffle.

So you watched every pirate and followed every arrow to make sure only pirates were hit by them.

At the left you saw Tootles fighting with one man while another was behind, his sword ready to stab the boy in the back so you shot out your hand and used your magic to yank the pirate all the way back to your tree.

His back hit the bark with a loud crack that came from either his skull or his spine cracking, either way he was certainly not getting up ever again.

Without taking a moment to think of the first man you’ve ever killed you got back to following the battle.

A few arrows were missing targets and planting themselves in trees and in the dirt, whenever you were sure no boys were in immediate danger you would take up the arrows and have them hit any pirates that were near it.

It seemed as if everything was going perfectly, only old fat bodies were on the ground and at least six were dropped by the fences.

You looked to your right and saw Rufio, he was fighting two pirates, moving so swiftly it looked almost graceful. He kicked one down then spun to bring his club down on the other and while he did that you dragged the other and slammed his head on one of the roots of your tree.

All of a sudden you heard a loud crash and the camp went silent.

One of the fences was blown to shreds, you could see a canon where the door once was and saw the last person you ever expected to see on a battlefield.

Wendy.

She was there with her hands tied in a way that kept them over her ears and covering her eyes.

A fat man with a red cap was beside her, with a sword to her throat.

‘Smee, good form.’ Hook said happily.

You looked to Pan and saw he was standing across from the captain, their swords still touching from when they had been battling.

‘Now...how about a new game? I call it Hostage.’

Pan was furious, but if he knew how to do anything it was how to compose himself.

‘That’s cheating.’

‘Pirates aren’t known for following rules. Now how about this we’ll give you your little girl, in exchange you grant us passage off this damned island.’ the pirate smiled.

The fat man in the red hat handed the crying girl to his captain who placed his hook to her throat.

‘If I don’t like the game?’

‘Then I’ll rip this girl’s heart out, in the bloody way. From my understanding she is rather important to you.’

‘It so happens she is.’

‘Take the deal.’ the one handed pirate offered.

‘Deal, there will be a portal just for you in the middle of the sea, but know that I will never open another portal for you again. You will be in the ground feeding the maggots in some boring realm before you ever see the alligator you want.’

‘Oh I will find him, now call off your dogs.’

You looked to Pan, looking for anything, any sign that he had a plan. A sure way to get Wendy away from the pirates and still win this battle.

There was nothing, no knowing smirk or calculating look in his eyes, he just looked furious. Angrier than you have ever seen him before, considering that at one point he had chased you through the woods that said something.

‘Game’s over boys, looks like pirates don’t play fair...bad form.’ he said.

One by one all the boys threw down their weapons and the archers stepped out from their hiding spots, but you stayed put.

You looked over, when you saw something red moving behind the canon that was still smoking behind the fairy tail captain.

Rufio.

He had his club raised high and eyes set on Hook’s head, in an instant you understood his plan, kill the pirate so Pan could get Wendy and we could get back to killing these old geezers.

But unfortunately you weren’t the only one who saw him.

Hook’s namesake was always polished, not for the sake of looks, but to see the reflections of things behind him. It was impossible to not notice such a loudly dressed lad.

Swift as wind he withdrew his hook from Wendy’s neck and before you could even scream in terror he had buried his hook in Rufio’s chest.

‘NO!’ you yelled.

The pirate removed his hook and let Rufio’s body drop to the ground.

You ran through the door of your tree and rushed to your boyfriend’s side, there was so much blood covering his chest you couldn’t see where the wound actually was.

‘No, no it’s OK. I can fix it.’ you said with shaking breath.

You tried to use your magic to heal him, but it wouldn’t work. Your hands were too unsteady and you couldn’t focus on how the body was meant to connect.

‘It’s...ok...Love y-you....’ Rufio choked out before his eyes lost focus and his body went limp.

‘No…’ you sobbed, you placed your forehead to his and tried to force him to be ok, or maybe to make yourself wake up.

Whatever you were trying to do didn’t matter because it didn’t work.

Felix was suddenly by your side, his eyes were wet, but he wasn’t crying.

He placed his hand on your shoulder and kneeled down with you over Rufio.

You didn’t notice it, but the camp had gone silent.

All these centuries of running wild on this island and killing any intruders and this was the first time they had ever lost one of their own.

‘No one else try anything, let me and my men go Pan.’ Hook said, removing the blindfold from Wendy's eyes and hands.

‘Leave the girl, and know that if I ever see you again, on this island or in any realm at all you will be as dead as that brother of yours.’ Pan spat out.

With tears in your eyes you watched the pirates retreat through the woods, a part of you wanted to burn the whole island down but you couldn’t.

Magic required a good amount of control, and you had never felt more unstable in your life.

You couldn’t stop the sobs that were spilling out of you or make your body stop shaking; there was only one thing in your mind.

Rufio was dead.

Your boyfriend had just died in your arms and there was nothing you could do about it no matter how strong your magic was.

Magic can do a lot but not that; dead is dead and it’s forever permanent.

‘(Y/N).’ Peter said solemnly.

‘I couldn’t save him, I saw him making his move and I didn’t stop him.’ you said around the lump in your throat.

‘We all saw him, and we all thought he could do it, it isn’t your fault.’ he said.

All at once it clicked in your head, like the last piece of a puzzle a thought formed in your mind.

Wendy.

‘You!’ you all but growled as you stood up and tackled the only other girl on the island to the ground.

‘You got him killed!’ you screamed in her tear streaked face as you wrapped your hands around her throat.

With all your strength you tried to crush her windpipe; if it was the last thing you did you were going to make her suffer for what she did.

‘(Y/N)!’ Peter yelled as suddenly you were yanked back, partially pulling Wendy with you, but eventually you lost your grip.

With a grunt and a thud that probably sounded worse than it actually felt you hit the ground.

‘I-I’m sorry!’ Wendy coughed, looking as pitiful and as helpless as the insect she was.

‘You will be, I’ll make you sorry!’ you spat as you struggled against the magic weight that was holding your body down.

‘Calm down.’ Peter said, his voice calm and clear as he stood over you.

‘Fuck calm! I want her dead!’

‘So do I.’ Felix said from beside Rufio’s body.

Felix closed his friend's eyes and looked up at his leader.

‘She betrayed us...Rufio is dead because her. She has been prancing through camp being as useless as a leech in dress and none of us said anything to you, but this.’ Felix said, standing up and pointing the body in front of him.

‘We can’t ignore this; and I won’t forgive it.’

More boys spoke in their agreement and soon they were all but spitting at the girl, the sight at one point would have disgusted you, but right now you just want to get up.

‘Quiet!’ Pan yelled, his voice strong and loud.

‘I know...the girl deserves to die, she deserves to die bloody. She is useless and no one likes her, not even me despite what I know you all think; but I still need her. We all do if we want to win the real game.’

The real game.

His master plan, the one he hadn’t even disclosed to you completely, all you knew was the goal, he needed Bae’s child; to get him he needed the Darling boys, and to keep them in line he needed Wendy.

Rufio was dead, his killers were on their way to freedom and all Peter, no not Peter, Pan cared about was his goal.

‘I hate you.’ you said, not even realizing you had said it.

You probably wouldn’t have even noticed your own voice if silence hadn’t become so heavy, as heavy as the weight that was no longer pinning you down.

Slowly you pulled yourself up and you looked at Peter, or Pan or whoever the hell the boy demon really was.

‘Rufio...he fought for you, he killed for you, and because of that stupid daffodil in a dress he died for you. You are so selfish and self concerned that you won’t even avenge him, won’t let me avenge him! He deserves that much!’ you cried.

‘(Y/N) I know right now it feels raw but-’

‘Not just now! I will never forgive this!’ you snapped.

You looked from him to Wendy and had to refrain from attacking her a second time.

‘Hide her, don’t ever let me see her face because if I do I will kill her...the same goes for you Pan.’

‘What are you saying?’ Peter asked, still masking his emotions in that way that not even you could see through it.

‘I’m saying that I hate you Peter Pan and if I ever see you again I will put you in the fucking ground...you and your little daffodil.’ you said.

Your eyes moved to the boys, the ones you had been laughing and training with for what must have been nearly a century now.

‘Only love for you all, if any of you ever find me I won’t be sore to see you; and if you’re following orders to find me I’ll fight you fair. Keep each other safe...since we can see vengeance is only priority in the right circumstance.’

You looked down at Rufio and again your vision was obstructed by tears.

‘Bury him by my tree, Felix.’

‘I will.’ your best friend without any hesitation

With that done you felt like you had said all you could say, so you turned away from all of them,

From Rufio’s body, your ex Peter Pan, the girl who’d gotten your boyfriend killed and all your friends too.

You look out at the woods and spare no time to think of all the dangers that hid behind the trees as you walked away from what was once your home.

#ouat #ouat imagine #hook ouat #peter pan imagine #peter pan ouat #peter pan x reader #felix ouat #Lost Boys #reader x rufio #character death

[unholyhelbig]

Title: Centerfold

Ship: Beca Mitchell/ Chloe Beale

She heard it before she saw it, the incessant chattering of her male coworkers. It was the same every single morning; a bunch of men with half-suits, or suit jackets, or loose ties, standing around a coffee machine that whirred and sputtered. They didn’t’ have a literal water cooler, but Beca knew if they did, they would be swarming like gnats to honey-soaked bread.

“Look what I have?” Jason said.

“Oh, shit dude,” Rick said.

Beca clenched the corner of the fridge tighter and leaned into the cold scent of cheese and half-rotted vegetables. She scanned the Tupperware containers that were stacked liked Tetris and tried to hear them over the hum of the Maytag. It was hard, but not impossible.

“She is… well, she is magnificent.”

She. Well, that didn’t’ narrow anything down. It could be a boat or a car or even a damn pool noodle. Anything that they could objectify and name and own. And really it was just as degrading as it sounded but in this case, they seemed to be talking about a magazine. A playboy that had the back folded over.

Her fellow Coders leaned with their backs to the coffee machine, each in pale button-downs, each practically drooling over whatever page they had turned to. Beca clenched her jaw and let the fridge fall shut with a muffled bang. Not muffled enough to keep her usually unnoticed presence under wraps.

They looked like well-groomed deer in headlights.

Jason snatched the magazine from his counterpart and hid it behind his back. Color blossomed against his cheeks and he started to squirm. “Nothing,”

“Nothing? Because it looks like a porn magazine to me.” She held her hand out and flexed her fingers. It was the universal sign for wanting him to hand over whatever wasn’t there. He eyed her suspiciously, then looked at Rick, then back at Beca before he shoved it forward.

She smiled and flipped right to the page that they were gawking at. Because not only did she feel kind of excluded from a mostly male office, but she also liked the deflated expressions that Rick and Jason wore like masks.

The picture was a mostly modest one if you didn’t count the placement of the woman. Most of this stuff was online now and it was rare to see a magazine in the first place. But this dawned a classic centerfold image of a woman. Her legs spread and the part that kept everyone guessing cut expertly with the spine. There was tan skin and curly russet hair, hand fingers dawned in gold rings.

She lifted an eyebrow because this was the thing her coworkers were gawking at? Not even a full picture. But it was enough to get them embarrassed and aroused and she never really understood why. Her eyes flicked down to the corner; in neat cursive writing, sat a name. Chloe Beale.

Beca had to stifle a cough, more of a choke after her throat dried entirely. She had to keep a cool face, but some red color must have gotten to her cheeks because now Jason was grinning like a fool again. He shoved his elbow into Rick’s arm.

“Nice, huh?”

“Yeah,” Beca croaked. She shut the magazine “Mind if I keep this? Just for a bit?”

Rick spoke to his friend “I mean sure, just don’t forget to lock the bathroom door behind you.”

Beca fought the urge to roll her eyes, but she did anyway. “Yeah, whatever.”

She tucked the magazine under her arm and left the breakroom then. There was a cacophony of typing and she nodded at a few people that offered her smiles as she walked towards her corner office. She beckoned her assistant as she walked with her free hand and closed the door behind them.

They had given her the space for “Human Relations” but the main reason for the privacy lay in the fact that Beca knew how to calmly talk down anyone, except for herself. She would have them leaving with a smile and a feeling of accomplishment even if she spun the bad news about sales in a different way. It was all about perspective, and right now her perspective was in shambles.

Emily closed the door behind them and stood there expectantly. She watched as Beca drew the blinds on the windows leading towards the office. She paced a few times, magazine in hand before stopping and staring at her assistant.

“Are you going to fire me?” Emily asked “Because if you are, just rip the bandage off Beca. I can take it.”

“I’m not going to fire you, Em”

There was a thick sigh of relief. It didn’t’ last long. Beca turned the page to the centerfold image once more and shoved it towards her friend. She frowned at it for a moment. “Oh?”

It took Emily the same amount of time to figure out the caption. She had turned the magazine vertically, her deep eyes widening and her mouth forming a thin line. “Oh! Oh my god.”

“It’s Chloe,”

“Your Chloe.”

Yes, her Chloe. Not anymore- it had been years since they had seen each other and even more time since they had spoken more than two sentences. But Beca didn’t’ think her childhood flame would turn towards nude modeling, and she didn’t’ figure that she would be the watercooler discussion of the day.

Her blood was running cold and she had to sit down. Instead, she settled for leaning against the edge of the desk and squeezing the bridge of her nose. She didn’t’ want to look at it, she didn’t’ want to think about her first girlfriend posing like that.

I mean- Chloe had every right to do so but that didn’t’ make her jaw drop any higher. “She looks nice,”

“Not helping, Emily.”

“Sorry, it’s just” The girl threw the magazine back on the desk. “You should reach out to her. The two of you… God the two of you had everything. There wasn’t’ one kid who didn’t idolize what you had.”

Beca nodded. She knew that, to a certain degree. They had met in middle school and stayed together until College. God, college was an absolute dampener and long-distance didn’t’ work for anyone, not even the strongest of people. They had been named homecoming queens both Junior and Senior year, only to break up on Beca’s porch in the stifling summer heat months later.

Emily the wide-eyed freshmen, the innocent friend. The one who Beca went to when she needed cheering up. They mixed all the flavors of Slurpee together at the local 7/11 and made something they called the Frankenice. It was stupid and tasted horrible but it made her feel better, and then it made her feel worse enough to throw up on the sidewalk.

That was years ago, and they had grown into adults. Beca didn’t’ try to contact Chloe, but she did look up her socials in vain. She was pretty; gorgeous and interesting and nothing ever hinted towards this. Not that it was bad and not that she disapproved of the lifestyle, but it made her ache. It made her regret not reaching out sooner. And that made her want to throw the magazine across the room.

“Wouldn’t it be kind of… I don’t know, obvious if I message her right after this thing printed?”

“Half the city is probably messaging her right now,” Emily blew air out of her nose but settled at the pointed glare she received “Look- she probably misses you. You guys didn’t end on bad terms, right? Just not ideal ones.”

Beca rounded her desk and flopped down in her chair. She pulled open her laptop, not blinking an eye when Emily pressed against her back and stared as she pulled open the tab for Instagram. She typed in Chloe Beale and her profile popped up along with four or five fan accounts for her. And Beca had been stupid not to do this before.

They pulled up her feed and Beca felt like she was intruding, but she wasn’t. This was a public and popular profile with pictures of Chloe in bikinis smiling widely and then a few of her at the mansion itself. But most were just joyous and filled her with warmth. She clicked on the messages, open to the public. She typed something and let it linger.

Emily scoffed, hitting the back of the chair. “Hey?... Really? That’s what you’re going with? What are you, Ten?”

“Okay, okay! What would you write?”

“Move please,” Emily shoved Beca to the side and spoke while her fingers worked against the keyboard. “Hey Chloe, how have you been? I know we haven’t spoken in years, but I would love to catch up. If you’re ever in New York, we should grab a drink or coffee.”

She sent it before Beca could object about it being too formal, or not formal enough. Emily shut the laptop and stood back. She was proud of herself and wore the smile that showed it. “Don’t touch that until tomorrow. Play hard to get even though you’re the one initiating conversation.”

“I-“

“No buts, even if she messages back right now, you don’t touch. No.” Emily pointed a finger at her. “I know how this works, I’m still in the dating scene.”

“And I’m not?” Beca asked incredulously

“Please,” Emily scoffed “if you were, you wouldn’t have a magazine with Chloe as the Centerfold.”

#Beca Mitchell #Chloe Beale #Bechloe #bechloe fic rec #Bechloe Fanfiction #Pitch Perfect #pitch perfect fanfiction #au #request

[flufflepuffle296]

Heathers au: Beautiful Songfic

This is more centred around Veronica/Marinette so not really any mentions of Heather/Heather/Heather. Sorry if someone’s done this before I apologise I just got into Heathers like two days ago. Also I changed some lyrics and took others out to make it more “realistic”. Sorry I suck at endings, it’s 5:30am rn and this is my first fic so be nice please! (I’m on mobile so I can’t add the keep reading tag so sorry if you don’t like this) xxx

I brushed down my dress: I couldn’t give them anything to criticise me over. Everything had to be perfect. I had to be perfect. Chloé sat next to me, my beautiful fiancée, slipping on her kitten heels. She may be 3 months pregnant but no Bourgeois woman would be seen wearing flats. I was in a red floor length a line dress — I grew out of my childish pink years ago, before it even went out of fashion! My hair was twisted into two plaits that were knotted together into a stylish bun at the back. Chloé meanwhile had stuck to her white and gold aesthetic, currently in a slim fitting white dress, showing off her small baby bump, decorated with gold jewellery. I rummaged through my drawers, trying to find a lipstick, when a thin book toppled out. I picked it up, and laughed fondly when I saw what it was.

My old Collège and Lycée diary.

I flipped through it, landing on the page that stuck most clearly in my mind. It was the day my class reminded me of my current reality at that time, shocking me out of a bubble that had surrounded me during the summer holidays that year.

September 1st, 1989.

Dear Diary: I believe I'm a good person. You know, I think that there's good in everyone, but—here we are! First day of senior year!

And uh... I look around at these kids that I've known all my life and I ask myself—what happened?

I bit my lip. What happened? I knew darn well what happened. Lila Rossi. She came in, flaunting her friendships and connections, a new disability every other week to cry about, another rumour about me coming out every 3 days.

Alya ended our friendship, Adrien continued to cry about Lila’s feelings. Lila just kept doing what she did best. The class gave up on changing my mind and instead decided that calling me names would be better. Because logic?!

“Freak!” “Slut!” “Burnout!” “Bug-eyes!” “Poser!” “Lard-ass!” Were the insults they liked to yell daily. Yeah, they weren’t the most creative...

We were so tiny, happy and shiny. Playing tag and getting chased. Singing and clapping, laughing and napping. Baking cookies, eating paste.

Nino and Kim used to come over to the bakery when we were kids, where we’d gorge ourselves on sweets, before celebrating our sugar rushes by chasing each other in the park and then crashing on my sofa, cuddled in blankets and laying on top of each other.

Then we got bigger, that was the trigger. Like the Huns invading Rome. Welcome to my school, this ain't no high school: This is the Thunderdome. Hold your breath and count the days, we're graduating soon. College will be paradise, if I'm not dead by June!

But I know, I know, life can be beautiful. I pray, I pray for a better way. If we changed back then, we could change again. We can be beautiful...Just not today.

I scoffed at my optimism back then. Them changing? They never did, I don’t know why I bothered trying at that point. I should’ve moved on but hey! We all make mistakes. It’s just that sometimes you make 11 friendships worth of mistakes.

“Freak!” “Slut!” “Cripple!” “Homo!” “Homo!” “Homo!”

I cringed as I read their old “insults”. They would write homophobic messages across my locker, getting Alix to spray paint a few slurs across my work after I came out as bisexual.

Things will get better soon as my letter comes from Harvard, Duke, or Brown. Wake from this coma, take my diploma. Then I can blow this town. Dream of ivy-covered walls, no smoky French cafés. Fight the urge to strike a match and set this dump ablaze!

I had purposefully sent out applications to universities far away from these people, from Paris. All three schools accepted me, something I can’t say about my classmates, most of whom were rejected for essays on false information (sourced by Lila) and a quick scan over the Ladyblog meant not a single newspaper would even consider my ex-best friend. Gabriel Agreste, as I later found out through my internship in America, had to bribe several schools with double tuition to get even one to accept Adrien, after he got exposed as sexual harasser and disgraced hero “Chat Noir”. I turned back to my diary, having to peel off rock hard gum from the page that someone had smeared in “revenge”.

Le Chiên Kim. Third year as linebacker and eighth year of smacking lunch trays and being a huge dick.

“What did you say to me, skank?” He would yell, his fist raised in the hallway.

“Aah, nothing!” I then cowered. I may be Ladybug, but he was 150lbs of pure rage. No one can compete with that!

But I know, I know... Life can be beautiful. I pray, I pray, For a better way. We can be beautiful...

“Marinette! Wide load! Honnnnnk!”

He was the smartest guy on the football team. Which is kind of like being the tallest dwarf.

“Hey! Pick that up! Right now!”

“I’m sorry, are you actually talking to me?” He used to snarl, his hands covered in sauce from knocking my tray.

I stood my ground, I had been practising for this moment. “Yes, I am. I wanna know what gives you the right to pick on me. You're a high school has-been waiting to happen. A future gas station attendant.”

Kim then smirked, crouching down to eye level and pressing a finger to my forehead. “You have a zit right there...” he pointed out, causing the cafeteria to laugh at my expense.

I used to ask myself “Why... Why do they hate me?”

And hear Adrien whisper “Why don't I fight back?”

Watch as Max Googled “Why do I act like such a creep?”

Listen in on Lila stamping her feet in the bathroom asking “Why won't he date me?” Clearly frustrated.

Kim panicking as he wondered “Why did I hit him?”

And Chloé sob down the phone “Why do I cry myself to sleep?”

I would stay up late, screaming, begging. At my lowest points I would cry out “Somebody hug me! Somebody fix me! Somebody save me! Send me a sign, God! Give me some hope, here! Something to live for!”

I remember when I first met my real friends. The famed trio had gone into the bathroom and I followed after them, clearly my throat.

“Who are you?”

“Uh... Marinette Dupain Cheng. I crave a boon”

“What boon?” Chloé asked, filing her nails.

“Um. Let me sit at your table, at lunch. If our class think that you guys tolerate me, then they'll leave me alone...”

Chloé threw her nail file out and began circling around me, running her hands through my hair, commenting that “For a greasy little nobody, you do have good bone structure!” Before coming to a conclusion.

“And ya know, ya know, ya know? This could be beautiful. Mascara, maybe some lip gloss, and we're on our way. Get this girl some blush; and Kagami, I need your brush. Let's make her beautiful.” Sabrina and Kagami, chimed in, echoing her words.

“Let's make her beautiful...”

“Let’s make her beautiful...”

“Make her beautiful...Okay?” Chloé ordered, dragging me out with Kagami and Sabrina, driving me to her hotel. They sat me down, taking my hair out of its bunches and brushing it out. Kagami painted my nails a deep navy with surprising precision, manning my cuticles. Sabrina twirled my hair into a high bun, leaving a few pieces at the front to frame my face. Chloé came back from her wardrobe, throwing a blue blazer and grey skirt at me. I changed into my outfit for them, to which they clapped their hands in glee. They dragged me back to school, taking in everyone’s reactions to the new and improved me. This became my new daily outfit for the rest of the year — the class couldn’t find anything bad about it, and even if they did Chloé would threaten them with her father’s power.

I was happy with my squad. Kagami taught us Japanese and Chloé taught us American English that she’d picked up from her mother. I taught them self defence, under the guise of learning it from my mum, unknowingly training them for the day I would rip Chat Noir’s miraculous from him, before slamming it into Kagami’s palm. I needed help that day, so thrust them bee and the fox miraculous at Chloé and Sabrina respectively. They became permanent heroes, Kagami under the name “Noirette”, Chloé under the new guise of “Buttercup” and Sabrina “Renard Rouge”. Akuma attacks have never lasted more than 15 minutes since we got rid of that alley cat, and we’ve been closing in on Hawkmoth recently.

I shook my head, snapping the crude book shut, throwing the diary in the bin. Today was going to be the day I made peace with all that happened, our 10 year school reunion. Doesn’t mean I’m gonna make up with anyone, just that I will finally leave everything behind. I found my lipstick and smeared on the crimson lip, smacking my lips together. I grabbed my clutch and helped Chloé stand up, though she wobbled a little in her heels. I slid her miraculous into her updo, blowing a kiss at her as to not ruin her makeup.

We met up with Kagami and Sabrina in the hallway, Kagami in a wine red suit with gold jewellery, and Sabrina was in emerald green to compliment her red hair. We stepped into the limo awaiting us outside and set off, arriving at the school 10 minutes later. We walked up the steps, hitching up our dresses and arrived in the courtyard. It had been lit up with fairy lights, with stands of food and drinks scattered around the court. Our old classmates were huddled in small groups, whilst Mlle. Mendeleiev’s was in a large group, enjoying each other’s company after 10 years apart.

No one noticed us, until Rose pointed at me and whispered “Who’s that with Chloé?” The group turned to stare at us, trying to place my face. Adrien looked up from talking to Lila, who seemed to be flaunting a rather tacky Gabriel engagement ring, and whispered,

“Marinette?!”

The class began gossiping amongst themselves, “Marinette? Marinette? Marinette?!”

I ignored them, their childish ways were behind me, and walked up to Aurore and Mireille, fawning over their relationship. They turned Kagami, asking her about her life and squealing over her Olympic medal for fencing. I grinned as I watched my old class, happy that they had moved on from each other — well apart from Alya and Adrien, who were still hooked on Lila. I was finally, content! I thought back on my diary, one particular paragraph standing out to me at this time.

And you know, you know, you know, life can be beautiful. You hope, you dream, you pray, and you get your way! Ask me how it feels, lookin' like hell on wheels...My God, it's beautiful! I feel so beautiful... And when you're beautiful...It's a beautiful frickin' day!

Chloé boasted my achievements, my business, my awards, and the entire of Mendeleiev’s class started chanting “Marinette! Marinette! Marinette!”, much to my embarrassment. I boasted her’s in return, Sabrina revealed how far she’d come as a lawyer, Kagami swung her prized sword from side to side as she listened to us all catching up, laughing at the memories.

It really was a beautiful day.

#lila salt #adrien salt #class salt #marinette deserves better #alya salt #mlb #miraculous #miraculous ladybug #marinette dupain cheng #miraculoustalesofladybugandcatnoir #chloe sugar #kagami tsurugi #sabrina raincomprix #heathers au #beautiful heathers #songfic