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#IT WOULD BE SO MUCH FUNNIER IF THEY WERE ALLOWED SOME SWEARS
lunalivvy · 11 months
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miles saying ass, gwen saying hell, miguel saying fuck in spanish… LET THEM SWEAR
LET MILES MORALES SAY FUCK
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louebel · 8 months
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[ " 𝐋𝐎𝐎𝐊 𝐇𝐎𝐖 𝐂𝐔𝐓𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐀𝐑𝐄 𝐒𝐌𝐈𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐆! " ] — 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬
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𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠(𝐬): luffy, robin, law, sanji, kidd × gn!reader 𝐢𝐧��𝐨/𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬: not proofread 'n quick, lots of fluff! they are all babies. (i KNOW kidd's crew raid fashion stores and complain about them if they're lackin. if. if there's a fic like that pls share in the comments. i BEG you.) also some swearing with kidd!! dripping divider by @ benkeibear like always,, i live for these dividers damn.
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𝐌𝐎𝐍𝐊𝐄𝐘 𝐃. 𝐋𝐔𝐅𝐅𝐘
"you too!!"
you swear his smile widens so much his face is stuck that way.
he is adorable. he smiles every day but hearing you say that? it's exactly what he wants!! he wants people to look at him smiling AND wants them smiling in the process (continuous cycle,,)
it's so easy to notice just how much he loves you saying that. round cheeks tinted pink, eyes shut, and set of teeth shared to the world. he is always so animated with everything he does, and this is no exception.
this little rubber man is immediately engulfing you in his arms!! you are not allowed to leave until he says so.
"i'm gonna make you smile too! forever! that way, we'll both look cute when we smile! shishishi!"
scratch protecting him at all costs. he's gonna protect you at all costs.
if you tell him again, grab his cheeks and shake him as if he were a pupper. if he had a tail it'd be wagging 'till he flies. will probably make all types of noises while you do it.
pat the boi.
𝐍𝐈𝐂𝐎 𝐑𝐎𝐁𝐈𝐍
her smile might be tender but she's giggling internally,, she's flattered!!
"is that so? i'm glad to hear that."
robin gained confidence growing up and she knew she was a gorgeous woman — but hearing it from your lips is still a surprise. sure, she gets compliments on the daily, especially by sanji, but... yours felt much more intimate. she's not blushing because she's flustered or anything, it's just because she loves you. and that comforting warmth in her chest propagated to her neck and face.
it's small moments such as this that remind her of saul's words. each day on the sunny is a reminder, but the little things reinforce those feelings. it was such a wonderful sentiment.
you had no idea what she was thinking about, but the way the corners of her lips eased, your heart jumped too.
she really did look cute while smiling.
"you look pretty, too. smile more often, dear."
she's so lucky to have you. and you're so lucky to have her.
𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐅𝐀𝐋𝐆𝐀𝐑 𝐃. 𝐖𝐀𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐋𝐀𝐖
dies
you think he looks... cute?
his eyes widen and he just. stops functioning for a moment. his heart feels lighter and funnier than normal, and his smile returns, a bit more timid than before.
"... really?"
"of course!"
he doesn't even believe it— he did notice from time to time how you suddenly just,, softened when he did it but he didn't think you'd like it that much. he doesn't smile a lot, sure there are definitely various moments where he feels at peace with the crew, but they come easier with you
when he showed you his coin collection, when you both took a stroll or when you simply cuddled. law might look scary to those outside — but inside, he is still the small boy whose curiosity shined above all. he is very fond of those he cares about, even if he has trouble expressing his emotions and thoughts to others. the confidence he wore doubled for you and his loyal crewmates, but he deserved rest every once in a while. years of trauma dulled him, however, when he felt something, it was strong; almost as if breaking out of a cage. he kept them deep inside, only to burst and even tremble when he was pampered. he didn't know how to react, and only with time would he grow used to it.
so,, please be patient and take care of him,, he looks after himself with everything else, but he's a lost puppy with love and physical affection. if it doesn't show on his face, his heart definitely speeds up at every small thing you tell him, casual or not.
"thank you."
you see him smile a bit more now. give him any type of compliment, affection, or anything,, and the "cold" surgeon of death will be nothing but putty in your hands.
"and... you too."
he really does love you.
𝐕𝐈𝐍𝐒𝐌𝐎𝐊𝐄 𝐒𝐀𝐍𝐉𝐈
dies 2.0
"o- oh... my love! you look adorable smiling, too!"
never-ending swarm of compliments. oh and he's hugging you as if his life depends on it.
he's not really used to the sweet words and might think he's undeserving of them. sure, it's a simple smile... but that's exactly why it gets him so much. something so mundane and common yet you see a unique beauty in his and his alone. others can warm your heart too, but he does it in a different way — in a special way.
if you tell him this in the middle of the night and you're both having a calm and peaceful moment he might cry. (if it's daytime and he's feeling a lil sensitive it's tears of joy mixed with laughter,, please hold him)
he's so happy. he'll smile as much as you want him too. if that gets you to do so too, it's a win-win for everyone!
it's usually clear when he feels affectionate,, he is most of the time. but now it DOUBLES. that comment made his day.
he's so giddy and adorable.
"you light my world up, mon rayon de soleil. if i can do so too with a simple smile... then i shall every day."
𝐄𝐔𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐒𝐒 𝐊𝐈𝐃𝐃
mf's smile never dropped so fast.
"the fuck do you mean CUTE??"
was about to throw a fit but then he just. stares at you. so genuine...
"why you lookin' at me like that?? stop. 'm not fuckin' cute."
staaaare...
"... zero point one percent cute. happy? now stop looking like a goddamn puppy."
but you end up smiling even more. and no matter what he thought, his heart still beat a little faster. you looked pretty cute, too.
yes. he's a bit mean sometimes but you know he means well. he's your little man. like, he made you a tiny metal butterfly once so that even if he was busy with designing and crafting you had something to remind you of him. (he sputtered profanities and became as red as his hair before storming off walking in a wall but he still peeked from a corner to see if you liked it. when he saw your pleased expression, he smirked like the lil shit he is.)
plus... deep inside, he appreciated it. you and killer always managed to calm him down.
he truly is grateful.
"urgh. c'mere. let's go get killer 'n the others to raid a store."
...
bonus after the raid: he does your makeup and uses a great lipstick he stole found to really make you pop with the looted new clothes he got for you. hyped you up and grinned like an idiot. he's doing your nails next. killer gave you a thumbs up before finding more products himself,, raiding stores sure is fun!
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milksuu · 6 months
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𓆩🖤𓆪 Screw Your Bike! 𓆩🖤𓆪
❥ prompt: You hated to admit it but, you were jealous of a damn motorcycle. How was it possible to feel second place to a vrooming object with two-wheels? What did it have that you didn't? A leather seat and a holo-graphic chrome wrap, really? Well, if Kayn wanted to take a ride, he'd have to go through you. Literally and figuratively. ❥ content/warnings: nsfw 18+, dom!kayn, dirty talk, bratty behavior, profanity ❥ characters/pairings: Heartsteel!kayn x f!reader
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You were going to be in so much trouble. Good. That's where you wanted to be. After being blown off recently, you weren't trying to be nice. If Kayn wanted to keep having fun with his new toy, then he'd have to go through you.
"Where the hell are my keys?" He growled out loud. Frustration igniting that irresistible scowl across his features. "I swear, if Ezreal thought It'd be funny to hide them, then it's going to be funnier when I murder him."
Oh. Poor Ezreal. You hated if he ever took the blame for your misdeed. But your secret wouldn't be kept for long. It was only a matter of time before you were found it. Which, you wanted to be. Very badly.
Kayn asked for your help in looking for the missing keys. You played your part well; sifting through cluttered drawers and couch cushions. After searching the house, it was time to search around the garage.
"Probably left it in the ignition or something," Kayn mumbled to himself, scanning the body of his motorcycle.
You stood a few feet away. Smiling. Watching him wrack his brain about where exactly were those damned keys. It was time to be found out. You bounced on your toes. Jingle Jingle.
That definitely caught someone's attention. Kayn looked up, narrowing his green eye against you. "Did you just...jingle?"
"I don't know. Did I?" You posed with fake innocence. You bounced again. Jingle Jingle. "Mm, maybe I did. I can't really tell. Would you mind finding out for me?”
Kayn’s look spat fire, but his smirk crossed with intrigue. He sauntered over with a sway, and sucked against his teeth. “Clever hiding spot. But kinda uninspiring, don’t you think?”
You merely shrugged. Allowing him to bask in whatever verbal triumph he wanted to display. You had to keep your cool. Especially when he plunged a hand between your cleavage. You held in a shudder. The rough of his knuckles brushed against your nipples during his careless search.
That all-too confident smirk faltered at the ends. But where his ended, your grin began. Nothing was there.
"You were right. That spot was uninspiring." You shook your lower half. Jingle Jingle. "Wonder where else they could be."
Kayn's jaw tightened. You saw the clench of teeth. He didn't liked to be fooled with. The fire that blazed just behind his eyes told you the punishment he wanted to reign. All according to plan.
"You're a damned brat." He said with a bite, tempting to snake a hand up your black mini-skirt.
He almost barked when you gripped his wrist, pinning his hand against your inner thigh. You narrowed your mascaraed lashes against him. "And you're an ass-head. Think I'd be happy with you blowing me off over your supped-up tricycle?"
Kayn glanced from his motorcycle back to you. So, this is what this was all about. You wanted to pick a fight with him over his new toy. Fine, have it your way—but it wasn't going to be the verbal kind. Words were all pointless, meaningless, a waste of time. Fucking things out always worked better.
Kayn slammed his mouth down on yours. You yelped, gripping his wrist tighter. You wouldn't relent, not so easily. When he sucked and nipped at your lower lip, you wrapped your free hand around his neck, grasping for some semblance of control.
Kayn groaned from the slight pressure and claimed your mouth fully. He returned that pressure by gripping tighter against your thigh fat. You were going to let his hand go. Unless you wanted bruises. He wasn't afraid to leave a mark or two on your body. Actually, he preferred it. A reminder of him anytime you undressed.
You whined a moan. The digging of his fingers sending shocks between your legs. You gasped for air, your strength siphoned.
Kayn breathed a shit-winning smirk into your ear. You bit your bottom lip. He thrusted his fingers inside your panty line. Sliding the keys out, the metal jostled and glided against your folds. Wet slicked and coated.
"You're going to pay for almost tarnishing the metal. I don't think you know exactly how much I'd have to cough up to replace them. Nothing you could afford with cash, anyway." Kayn's features darkened, licking the keys clean of your taste.
Oh God. He was such a dick. This is exactly what you wanted. "You're such an ass—"
You cried out when frim hands smacked against your back side, gripping the now tender flesh. Yanking you off your feet, Kayn practically tossed you onto his motorcycle. With your back pressed against the control panel, Kayn settled between your straddled legs. He was going to fuck on you his motorcycle to make a point? Before you could protest, Kayn possessed your lips with a snarl and bite. Goose-bumps rose when you heard the undoing of his jean button and the down slide of his zipper.
"I hope I ruin the leather on this stupid thing," you said, gripping his hot dick in your hand.
Kayn growled and shoved your mini-skirt up to your stomach, snapping your panties to the side. "Ruin it and you're going to be licking your mess off the seat, while I fuck you from behind."
Shit. That sounded so hot. "Screw your fucking bike," you said with a shudder. His fingers swiped against your pussy. Completely drenched for him.
"Don't tempt me with the idea." Kayn took himself from you in his hand, circling your clit with the head of his cock. Slicking it up and down. You writhed, legs shaking against his sides.
Kayn shifted his hips. With his glazed tip, he dragged the length of his cock through your entrance. Your throbbing folds parted, spreading around his shaft. Pushing up to your cervix, he dragged up and back, coating himself with your fluids.
Your hands snatched his shoulders, finding your nails leaving desperate trails for him to take you, over and over and over again. Pleading for him to never stop.
Kayn bent forward, gripping the motorcyle handles. He dipped his head, pressing his teeth against the helix of your ear. "Think you're more exciting than my bike? Then you better purr louder." Bastard!
Kayn slammed inside of you, delivering all of his frustration, hunger and revenge. Taking you like the demon that he inevitably was. You cried out, tightening your legs around him, holding him closer. As if he was your savior and not your actual reaper.
Fuck. You were so hot, tight, and wet. Your walls pulsed and squeezed, making him swell and throb. Kayn gritted his teeth. He almost let himself reach his threshold before you—he was never going to let you fucking win.
Kayn lapped a long tongue across your neck, before diving and sinking a pair of canines into your skin. An apparent mark of his victory. You whole body jolted with pleasure. Your pussy clamped down so hard around his shaft, for a moment, Kayn's vision went black.
You screamed his name. Bucked against him. Coming all around him. Kayn went with you, catching his vulgar groans in his throat as he filled up your insides.
You got exactly what you wanted. Kayne think's he's won, and that's fine. But you were the real winner. He rode you before the damn bike. You smiled to yourself. All according to plan.
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married2myphone · 2 years
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Chapter One: Who Did It?
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Life As The Avengers' House Keeper
Pairings: Platonic! Avengers x Female Reader
Tags & Warnings: humour, fluff, found family
Chapter Summary: Ex-Hydra agent/Undercover Shield agent/Avenger turned house keeper, Y/n, spent the entire day picking up after the Avengers after they threw a party the night before. She was incredibly exhausted, and after making dinner, she was ready to just call it a day... Until someone decided not to follow the very simple rule of "Put used dishes in the sink after using them." Now Y/n was about to rain hell upon the Earth's greatest defenders.
Word Count: 3.1k
A/n: I don't usually write fics like this, but I'm a sucker for found family. Also, reader is really short cause I think it makes it funnier.
Tag List: @olsensnpm, @natasha-belova, @caroldanvers2
Main Masterlist | Series Masterlist
The Avengers have gone through more than what any regular person could ever imagine. It felt as though everyday, they were putting their lives on the line to protect others, and they did it all with a brave face. Whether it be nazis, aliens, super soldiers; they defeated them all and saved the world more times than they could count.
They were heroes, the greatest hope of the Earth. There was nothing that could defeat them, and whenever they were brought down, they never hesitated to get back up. It was as if after everything they’ve seen, nothing could ever scare them anymore. In a way that was true. Very little scared the members of the Avengers. They almost feared nothing at all.
Except for one person.
“Who did it?” 
The Avengers were lined up in the middle of the living room of the compound. Some had their arms crossed with a defensive look on their faces, some were avoiding eye contact and moving awkwardly. Either way, they were all forced to face the five foot two woman in front of them who was close to losing her shit.
She had spent the entire day cleaning up after Tony threw a party last night, then she had to carry all that damn laundry to the laundry room, which for some reason, was on the other side of the damn compound; then do grocery shopping because their fridge was completely cleaned out for the week, then she had to fold and distribute the clothes; then she spent three hours cooking dinner.
All she had to do was set the table and eat, then everything would be done. She could sleep, and everything would be fine. It was an incredibly stressful day, she just wanted to get it over with. But of course, something had to be wrong.
There was a missing glass from the cabinet and that completely ruined the table set up. She couldn’t find it anywhere and she has told this team of knuckleheads thousands of times over that after using a dish, they put it in the sink. Not even the dishwasher because she didn’t trust them to organize it properly. Of course, they stayed stubborn, and normally, Y/n would let it go.
But not today. She was looking to beat some ass.
So there she was, standing impatiently in front of the world’s strongest heroes, threatening them with a slipper. Behind her was a table set with perfectly good food that was getting colder by the second.
No one was allowed to eat until Y/n figured out which one of them was guilty for leaving a glass out.
“Peter?” The boy flinched and almost physically jumped at his name being called, hesitantly raising his head and meeting the woman’s eyes.
“I won’t get mad if it was you. Just be honest.” She said in a calming tone, though her still gripping a slipper in her hand didn’t do much to ease Peter’s nerves.
“It wasn’t me, I swear. I always wash the dishes after I use them like you told me to. I even dry them and put them back in the right cabinet right after intsead of using the dishwasher because that wastes money.” Peter whined, still very scared as he eyed the slipper in the woman’s hand.
“Alright, I believe you. You can eat.” Y/n said with a sigh, and Peter let out a breath of relief, a smile coming up to his face as he happily left the line and went to the dining table where food was prepared.
“Sam, Bucky.” Y/n called out and Sam let out an offended grunt.
“Why are you asking us?” He asked and Y/n raised an eyebrow at him.
“Why are you so defensive?” She countered and Sam looked away guiltily at the question. 
“I can’t speak for Sam, but it wasn’t me. I have my own bottle I drink from. I never use the glasses.” Bucky said and Y/n stared at him down, trying to gauge whether or not the man was lying.
He stared back challengingly, though when Y/n tilted his head, he couldn’t help but clear his throat in awkwardness, his eyes going down to the floor. For such a stoic man who was known for his unwavering stare, it would be a shock to see him fall to the gaze of such a tiny woman. But it happened so often now that the rest of the team was used to seeing it.
“You can eat.” Y/n said and Bucky gave a grateful nod, walking over to the table with Sam trying his best to walk with him without drawing attention.
“Sam, you’re not off the hook yet.” Sam let out a groan, muttering about how it wasn’t fair as he went back in line.
“Rogers, you gonna diplomat your way out of this one?” Y/n asked, turning to the man who had his arms crossed with an amused look on his face.
“You saw me drinking earlier. You also saw me put the glass in the sink, so it wasn’t me.” Steve said, rather happy with his prepared alibi.
“That doesn’t mean you didn’t use a glass earlier. I see it all the time. Use one glass, put it in the sink, then take out a perfectly clean glass an hour later instead of using the one you already took. You’re not safe yet.” Y/n said, pointing the slipper at Steve who shook his head and raised his hands in defense. 
“Natasha-”
“It was me.” Bruce spoke up with a shaky voice, but Y/n didn’t move her eyes from Natasha.
“No.” Y/n said in response to the scientist who opened his mouth to retort.
“But-”
“Bruce, sit your ass down.” Y/n interrupted, tilting her head over to the table.
Bruce glanced between Natasha and Y/n before letting out a sigh and reluctantly making his way over to the table so he could eat.
“What’s your excuse?” Y/n asked Natasha who had a stone cold look on her face, incredibly unreadable.
“I don’t drink a lot of water.” Natasha said and Y/n narrowed her eyes at the woman.
“I know, which is why we’re gonna have a talk later about your health. Now, get over there.” Y/n said and Natasha let out a sigh before she went over to the table, mumbling about how she was in perfectly good health.
“What do you have to say for yourself, old man?” Y/n asked, turning to Clint who let out a tired sigh. The one time he decides to stay over for the weekend, and he was already in the middle of another issue.
“Look, I live with three kids and a wife who likes to have the house in a very specific way. If someone’s gonna misplace a glass, it’s not me.” Clint explained and Y/n narrowed her eyes at him before relenting.
“Fine, but only because Laura always talks about how great you are at home.” The words made Clint smile and he happily went to eat dinner while texting his wife and teasing her about what Y/n said.
“Thing one and thing two.” Y/n said as she turned to face the twins. Pietro was sitting on the couch, staring at the food impatiently while Wanda had a confident look on her face.
“I’m the most organized person in this entire compound, and you know it, Y/n. I would never leave a glass out. I even took out all the dishes from the dishwasher and put them all back in the right place while you were out.” Wanda said and Y/n smiled happily at the girl.
“I know you did, and thanks so much for that. Go eat.” Y/n said in a kind tone. Wanda sent a cheeky grin to her twin brother and flipped him off with both fingers before going over to the table.
Pietro rolled his eyes, about to flip off his sister back when he caught the glare Y/n was sending his way.
“Y/n. Beautiful, kind, talented Y/n.” Pietro said with a sheepish grin. 
“Did you leave a glass out?” Y/n asked, ignoring Pietro’s flattery.
“No.” The boy answered simply.
“I don’t believe you.” Y/n responded and Pietro let out a scoff, hands shooting up in disbelief.
“What do you want me to say? I didn’t do it.” Pietro said, but when Y/n showed no signs of believing him, he let out a huff and crossed his arms, pouting like a child.
“And then there were three.” Y/n said, looking at the remaining Avengers. Steve continued to look incredibly amused at the situation, Sam looked offended, while Pietro continued sulking.
“Time’s ticking, boys. They’re gonna finish all the food before I even think about letting you eat.” Y/n said, staring down the three.
“And what are you gonna eat, huh? You gonna starve like the rest of us?” Sam asked dramatically, pointing his finger at the woman who raised her eyebrow at it. Sam quickly put the finger down but continued his stance.
“I spent seven days locked in a cell with no food and water and still managed to survive. One night without dinner won’t kill me. Besides, I can cook whatever I want, whenever I want.” Y/n countered and Sam cursed under his breath.
“Damn, she’s good.” Sam said and Steve shook his head at the hilarity of the situation.
“Look, maybe depriving us of a meal isn’t the best way to sort this situation out. How about we discuss it formally over dinner like adults and get to the bottom of it there. You spent so much time making this dinner for us, Y/n. It’d be a waste if it wasn’t eaten by all of us.” Steve said, slowly approaching Y/n with his arms out.
“Kiss ass.” Sam muttered to Pietro who snickered. Y/n cleared her throat and glared at the two. Pietro slapped Sam’s shoulder to show that he was on Y/n’s side, but this only caused Sam to retaliate and the two began a back and forth fight of slapping each other, which Y/n rolled her eyes at.
“You make a very compelling case, Steve… But no, I’m standing my ground. Until you all learn how to follow the small amount of rules I ask of all of you, the next dinner you’re gonna be eating will be laced with poison.” Y/n said, pointing his finger and glaring at Steve.
“Hey, gang. What’s for dinner?” Everyone in the room turned to Tony who walked into the room. His hair was wet with a towel around his neck, and the man walked over to the water dispenser with an empty glass in his hand.
“What?” Tony asked, turning to the team with furrowed eyebrows when he realized everyone was staring at him in complete silence.
Y/n let out a deep breath from her nose, eyes closed as she tried to control her irritation. The Avengers watched with bated breath as Y/n went over to the fridge and pulled something out before going over to the pantry and pulling something else out.
She then walked back to Tony, snatching the glass in his hand while he was mid-drink, causing some of the water to splash on him.
“Hey!” He said in protest, but was cut off when Y/n shoved two things in his hand. 
He looked down to see a tiny tub of microwaveable rice, along with a can of tuna in his hands.
“Enjoy your dinner, Tony.” Y/n said with a menacing smile before turning to Pietro, Steve, and Sam.
“Go on and eat, you three. You’re gonna run out.” Y/n said and there was a pause before everyone went back to their business.
Sam and Pietro quickly went over to the table and Steve went over to the dumbfounded Tony Stark who was looking in confusion at his “dinner” before glancing over to the whole meal prepared for the rest of them. 
“You might want to go take a look at the rules list again, buddy.” Steve said, patting Tony on the shoulder before going over to the table. 
“Anyone who feeds Tony is eating canned food for the next week.” Y/n called out from where she was before entering her room, the slamming of a door ringing through the air.
Y/n let out a sigh and went over to her bed, reaching into her side table and taking out a tupperware of mini donuts before grabbing a remote and turning on the tv.
It was a known rule in the compound that no one was allowed to eat on their beds, but Y/n was an exception to all the rules. Not just because she made them, either. Y/n was the one responsible for doing everything around the compound, the rules were simply to make things a bit easier on her. 
If Y/n from a few years ago saw her now, she would think that she was some imposter and kill her on sight. But so much has changed during that time. From one of the best HYDRA and S.H.I.E.L.D. agents in the field to the Avengers’ housekeeper. 
She went from having a kill count of over two hundred people during her first year as an agent with a ninety-eight percent success rate on missions at the age of nine, to doing the Avengers’ dirty laundry every Sunday. She used to be a high level threat and if she lasted long enough, she would’ve been an Avengers level threat too. But now she helps out Spider-Man with his Home Economics homework every other weekend.
Sometimes Y/n finds herself thinking “What the hell am I doing?” Whenever she remembers that she could very much kill everyone in the compound without breaking a sweat. But just as fast as that thought came, it disappeared with a mere shrug.
That life was way behind Y/n. Old Y/n would think she was completely humiliating and a disgrace to everything she worked for if she saw her now, but present Y/n didn’t give a single shit. She liked her life now, and she meant that.
She never imagined herself picking up after the Avengers who, surprisingly, were the most reckless people when it came to self care. But here she was now, and she wasn’t complaining. Well, sometimes she did complain, but overall, it wasn’t a bad time.
Y/n had originally met the Avengers when they were formed, save for Clint and Natasha. She’s been there from the beginning; undercover HYDRA agent posing as a S.H.I.E.L.D. agent who was then chosen for the Avengers initiative. It was supposed to be easy. Act like a hero and get all the information she could on them to help HYDRA take them down, along with anyone else who got in their way.
But she was compromised. Emotionally, at least. Even though Y/n had too much pride to admit it out loud, they all knew it. She had grown fond of them and didn’t particularly want to see any of them die. So, she indirectly helped Steve with the whole HYDRA situation at S.H.I.E.L.D.
When they realized Y/n was a member of HYDRA all along, they threw her in a cell and subjected her to a bunch of questioning. It took a really long time to get everyone to trust her again, but she found her way. 
She ended up escaping her cell and went into hiding for an incredibly long time. Then the battle of Ultron came and she decided, eh, why not fight with them one last time against a bunch of murderous robots in a floating city? It was a good way to go.
But somehow, they all managed to get out of that alive. Realizing that Y/n really was a changed person, the Avengers decided they could keep her around. It was clear that she wasn’t the same person she was before and had no intentions of breaking their trust again.
They had offered Y/n her old job as an Avenger once more, and after thinking about it for a while, Y/n realized that she didn’t want to go back to fighting. The battle in Sokovia was more than Y/n ever bargained for, and she really was prepared to die then.
Y/n knew that if she stayed with the Avengers, things would be just like that, if not worse, and Y/n was tired. She had spent her whole life fighting; raised from the ground up to be nothing but a soldier meant to be ready to give up her life for a cause she never believed in.
But she didn’t want to leave them either. That time she spent laying low was one of the loneliest times in her life. The Avengers taught her what it meant to be a human instead of a weapon, and she owed them the world. She just wasn’t ready to pay that debt through more years of fighting.
During that time on the run though, Y/n learned one thing. She was damn good at housework. She had to keep herself occupied during that time alone, and Y/n spent most of it learning how to cook, clean, and everything else. It was relaxing to her because it kept her mind off of the bad things.
When the Avengers brought her to the new compound where there was always some new mess being made, Y/n felt like she was in a playground. So much to clean and Y/n was more than willing to do all of it.
Well, most of it. The compound was a huge place, Y/n wasn't about to clean all of that every single day. Even she had her limits. So they agreed to keep her services within the living area, and if Y/n was particularly bored, she could clean elsewhere if she so pleased.
Soon enough, it was decided. Y/n was going to be the Avengers’ housekeeper. They were a bit hesitant about it first. It didn’t really feel right to have an old member of the Avengers just clean up after them like a maid.
Though Y/n did threaten all of them that if they ever called her a maid, she’d kill them all in a heartbeat.
Years passed though, and Y/n continued being their housekeeper. Plus, the team grew and Y/n found herself a family. She was happier than ever, despite how annoying some of them could be. Being a worldly threat and deadly killer couldn’t compare to picking after these odd bunch of heroes.
Being the Avengers’ housekeeper changed her life for the better as she was introduced to things she never would have known had she stayed in HYDRA. It was no surprise that HYDRA didn’t care much for their agents. For a long time, she was living like a weapon and she never saw anything wrong with it, because she didn’t think there was any other way to live.
But then she became a part of the Avengers and they treated her like she was a real person. It took awhile, but the longer she stuck around with them, Y/n started believing that maybe she was human. She liked feeling human. She liked all the things the world had to offer, and she liked the feeling she got when she was around the Avengers.
So there she was, lying in her bed eating donuts while watching some children’s cartoons when just years ago, she was spilling blood without even a second thought. 
Life was good.
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cyanide-latte · 2 months
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10, 12, and 58 for Chrysanthos and Copper, please ^^
Oooohhhhh, very interesting choices! These forced me to think quite a bit.
10: What fact do they excitedly tell everyone about at every opportunity?
Copper: "Did you know there are six stages of rigor mortis, and it begins to set in about two hours after death, and then it peaks at 12 hours and stays that way for close to 2 days?" Copper this is not something most people find fascinating and you might need to question why Stone taught you this, please seek therapy.
Chrysanthos: "Coolest thing I ever learned when I was adjusting to being an Octavinelle freshman was that the largest waterfalls are actually underwater."
12: What’s something that makes them laugh every single time? Be specific!
Copper: If Twisted Wonderland has a Vine equivalent, then there's got to be an equivalent to this Vine that would always make him laugh. He thinks it gets funnier the longer it loops.
Chrysanthos: Heckling the Headmage and seeing Crowley lose his damn smile (disrespectfully, get rekt, old man.) Anytime Idia tries to brag/lie about having a lot of friends (come ON, little cuz, just be real.) Ortho attempting to use different voice mods to sound serious and get past whatever language locks he's got built into himself (let him be allowed to swear, it'll be even funnier.) Azul attempting to play social power chess with him (you're playing chess kiddo, but my game is 3-card monte and you're not watching the hands.)
58: How many hobbies have they attempted to have over their lifetime? Is there a common theme?
Copper: Poor kid hasn't had much opportunity to develop or take up hobbies prior to enrolling at NRC. However! He loves storytelling (he used to do this for himself as a kid, and since I headcanon that the Scarabia dorm does regularly do story circles as a little nod to the 1001 tales, after some initial hesitation Copper really latches onto this and it's part of how he builds and maintains friendships in that dorm.) He also really loves learning languages, even if he has a somewhat casual approach and treats it like a hobby. In the TWST equivalent of New Orleans and the nearby bayous, he picked up enough that he can understand most of what Rook says when he speaks French. Copper also subconsciously will codeswitch when speaking with Sam if Sam codeswitches around him. When Sam points this out and talks with him, he encourages Copper to continue looking into learning languages, so he does.
Chrysanthos: He's pretty mum about what his hobbies were as a little kid. When he hit adolescence, everything was blastcycle racing and urban exploration. These days he still works on blastcycles as a way to kill time (his own doesn't see much use anymore but that might change as @ramshacklerumble 's Gia slowly warms up to him and he tells them to take the cycle for a spin,) drops in on NRC for visits when he feels like it and can fabricate an excuse, collects the soundtracks of musicals, lectures troublemakers on how to get away with urban exploration, and generally loves pissing off Crowley in any little way he possibly can.
Thanks for the ask!
Taglist: @inmateofthemind @tixdixl @ramshacklerumble @simons-twsted-children @blithesharem @rainesol @theleechyskrunkly (lmk if you want to be added to the taglist!)
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fangirlwriting-stories · 10 months
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They Say You Can’t Fight Fate (I Say Fucking Watch Me)
Chapter One
Chapter Four:
They spent the next day getting Roman’s car back (which was still in good condition, just needed adjustments after driving so long on the road), and then exploring.
The town was pretty small, but there still seemed plenty to do.  Granted, Remus was used to far less to do, but there were still a couple bookstores, some good looking restaurants, a cinema, and, what Remus would have made them leave if they didn’t have, a rage room.
They both headed there first, and walked in to find two employees arguing behind the desk.
“No, no, shut up, shut up and listen, are you listening to me?” said the one with purple hair.  “I will put up with a lot of shit from you, but I am not going to sit here and take this!”
“Well excuse me,” the other one said, rolling his eyes.  “I didn’t realize I wasn’t allowed to have an opinion.”
“You aren’t if your opinion is fucking stupid!”
Roman cleared his throat awkwardly.  “Um, hi?” he said.
To Remus’ eternal delight, the purple one turned to face him, held up a finger and said “Hang on,” then turned right back to the other one.
“Now listen,” he said.  “And tell me, Janus.  Have you ever run for your life?”
“Janus” said nothing.
“Well, have you?”
“You told me to listen,” Janus said.  “Do you want me to listen or do you want me to answer your questions?”
“I swear to god Janus,” the purple-haired one said, as Remus leaned forward, absolutely riveted.
“It doesn’t even matter Virgil, because we’re not talking about real life, we’re talking about fiction, and that gives me free reign to judge whoever I want.”
“Have you. Ever. Run for your life?”
Janus threw his hands up.  “No!  Obviously I haven’t, Virgil!”
“Well then how do you know you wouldn’t be exactly as stupid as a horror movie character?”
“Because I have a functioning head,” Janus groaned, looking up at the ceiling.
“Do you know how much head function goes out the window when you’re running from a man with a chainsaw?”
“Uh, hey,” Roman said, drawing both of their attention.  “Are you going to let us in?”
“Shh-shh,” Remus said, putting a finger up to Roman’s mouth.  “I want to hear this.”
Thankfully, the other two seemed to take Remus’ interest as all the permission they needed, because they went right back to arguing, and Remus walked forward to lean on the desk and watch.
“I don’t know what to tell you Virgil, you’re not going to convince me of this,” Janus said.  “I don’t care how much psychology is behind it.  It’s a story, it doesn’t have to be realistic.”
“Yes it does,” Virgil snapped, looking up at the ceiling.  “It doesn’t have to be reality, but it needs to be believable!”
“I’m sorry, what is the criticism launched at horror movies so often it’s become a joke all on it’s own?”
“Janus��”
“Isn’t it something about the characters making stupid unbelievable decisions?  No, wait, that couldn’t be it, because that would mean you’re a moron who’s making a stupid argument.”
“I’m going to strangle you,” Virgil growled.
“Look, the way I see it, we’re diametrically opposed on this anyway,” Janus said with a shrug.  “Seems like we need outside input.  You want to ask the customers here?”
“Oh please leave me out of this,” Roman said, backing up.
“I think you’re both right but for the wrong reasons,” Remus said with a delighted grin.  “Yes, human reasoning goes out the window when someone’s chasing you with a chainsaw.  But also, it’s funnier if the characters are stupid.”
Virgil turned to stare at him.  “It’s a horror movie.  It’s not meant to be funny.”
“Is it not?  I’ve never actually seen one of those.  Not by lack of trying, it was apparently just too much on my delicate mental state.  But I don’t know, the idea of people running screaming from a guy with a chainsaw like that’s not gonna make them easier to find sounds hilarious, in my opinion.  Anyway, can you let us in so we can break a bunch of shit?”
Now both of them were looking at him in confusion, but after a second, Virgil sighed.  “Fine.  I guess since no one is going to listen to reason anyway,” he said in annoyance.  “Are you both eighteen?”
“Yep,” Remus lied instantly.
“Cool.  Don’t damage the structure of the room, just the items inside it.  You can hit stuff against the walls as long as it’s not hard enough to make holes in them.  Make sure you’re wearing shoes if you break anything glass.  Janus will take you to grab your safety gear.  Are either of you intoxicated, sick, injured, or pregnant?”
“I’m pregnant,” Remus said instantly, as Roman groaned and buried his head in his hands in the background.  Remus had a similar response the last time they went to a rage room.
“Congratulations,” Virgil deadpanned, sliding two liability waivers across the table.  “That’ll be 60 bucks for each of you.”
“Great, put it on our parents’ stolen credit cards,” Remus said, fishing one out of his pocket and passing it across the counter.
Virgil stared at him for a second, seeming vaguely suspicious, which was an interesting reaction, since Remus had just said out loud the cards were stolen.  Janus, on the other hand, was smiling at him, appearing closer to intrigued.
“You got it,” he said, taking the card from Remus and running it through before passing it back to him.  “Lets go get your safety gear.”
Remus grinned at him, and he and Roman both followed Janus back into another room, where Janus gave them both eye protection, coveralls to change into, and gloves.
Remus had been to a rage room once before, but the feeling had been totally different.  He’d spent the time smashing TVs and vases in an effort to get some kind of, well, rage, out at his situation and everything he was going through.  And it had felt amazing in the moment, but then he’d gone back to the mental hospital and everything had just felt more insurmountable.
This time, however, as soon as Remus walked into the room, he started looking around in delight at everything there.  The second Janus closed the door, he ran over and smashed a hole into a TV screen.  Roman laughed in delight behind him and went to do a similar thing to a TV nearby.
Remus whacked his TV several more times, then turned to cause a good amount of damage to an empty bookshelf.  When he’d hit that enough times, he turned to several decorative vases.  When those were appropriately shattered, he moved over to a pile of cords and headphones.
And rather than anger like the last time he’d been to a place like this, the whole time he felt like he was shaking with adrenaline and mania and joy.  Roman was taking out a fair bit of items with just as much energy, and near the end of their hour-long session, they both ended up in the middle of the room, surrounded by broken and shattered objects, with grins that were way too wide.
Remus looked around for a second, then started laughing.  Roman started laughing a second later, and they both ended up on the floor, laying down in a relatively clean area and staring up at the ceiling.
“Fuck,” Remus said.
“Yeah,” Roman agreed.
“I liked that better than last time,” Remus said.
“Me too,” Roman said.  “I pretended all of the stuff I smashed was Mom and Dad or one of your orderlies.”
“Fuck,” Remus realized, turning to look at him.  “Why didn’t I think of that?  We have to come back now.”
Roman laughed.  “You think Mom and Dad will be cool with us maxing out their credit cards on rage rooms?”
“I don’t know,” Remus said, turning back to the ceiling.  “But I think I have a better idea.”
Virgil and Janus were surprisingly willing to hire the two of them.  Apparently they didn’t have a ton of employees right now, and two more would boost the hours they could be open, since Virgil and Janus could only work when they weren’t in class.  They were both a few years older than Roman and Remus, and trying to work their way through community college.
So now, when he and Roman weren’t apartment shopping or going on drives through the area around town or trying to figure out how the hell they were going to afford not dying, they were working at the rage room, usually with Janus and Virgil for now, since they were new and still learning some things.
Remus liked Virgil and Janus.  They didn’t ask too many questions and bought that Remus and Roman were both eighteen without asking to see an ID.  (Well, they were close, so Remus could understand why they bought it.  He and Roman both looked a little old for their age, you could blame the trauma, and they’d only have to last until June before they wouldn’t have to lie anymore at all.  But it was still nice that neither Janus or Virgil pushed too hard.)
Janus shared Remus’ tendency for chaos, and he’d introduced Remus to spray paint art.  Just on plywood that was going to get smashed in one of their rooms, so far, but Remus loved it all the same, and he sure Janus would be down to spraypaint in slightly-less-legal places one of these days.  It would be Remus’ first crime!  He was a little embarrassed it had taken him this long to commit one, but the orderlies had watched him too closely for him to get away with much back at the institute.  Janus was clearly experienced, though.  He said he knew how to spraypaint, and shoplift (which Remus and Roman should both probably learn just for survival reasons), and Remus could never be quite sure if he was joking when he said he’d gotten away with arson once.
Janus talked with Roman about theatre and acting, which was clearly less superior to his conversations with Remus, but that was okay.  Roman could keep Janus’ boring half, as long as Remus got to have fun with him.
Virgil was a little less out there overall, but he still got approval from Remus once he brought in his whole collection of horror movies for the two of them to watch in the back when they didn’t have customers.  Unsurprisingly, Remus decided he liked the super gorey fucked up ones the most, though he did ask Virgil to steer clear anything with mental hospitals or crazy people.  Virgil, thankfully, didn’t ask.  Remus liked that quality of his more every day.
In what was more of a surprise, horror-movie enthusiast Virgil also loved Disney just like Roman.  The two of them spent hours talking about it and debating it— apparently they liked it for very different reasons.  Roman liked the mushy gushy happy fairy tale aspect like a loser, and Virgil, in what Remus could almost respect, liked the darker undertones and weird messed up messages that could be found throughout the movies.  They both went back and forth on this topic often.
And unfortunately, it was during one of these debates that they ended up on a topic neither Remus or Roman liked.
“See, that’s another thing about The Lion King.  I can’t decide whether they should have added soulmates or not,” Virgil said, waving his hand dismissively as he scribbled down something on the inventory sheet.  “Like yeah, as far as we know animals don’t have soulmates, but if they’re going to be humanizing the characters to such an extent anyway, it’s at least worth thinking about.”
Remus exchanged a glance with Roman, who rubbed the back of his neck.  “I don’t know,” he said without looking at Virgil.  “Honestly, the romance wasn’t my favorite part of the movie.”
“Oh yeah, me neither obviously,” Virgil said.  “That’s hardly the only great thing about it.  It just could have made Simba and Nala’s relationship different is all I’m thinking.”
Roman didn’t reply this time, and after a second Virgil seemed to take notice and glanced back up.  He paused and stood up straighter when he noticed both of their faces.
“Wait, did I touch a nerve or something?” he asked, setting the inventory sheet down.
“Don’t worry about it,” Roman said, but he turned away, and Remus looked down at his hands and started to fidget.
“Oh shit, I really did,” Virgil said.  “I’m sorry.  I got it, soulmates are off limits.”
“It’s not that, it’s just…” Roman said hesitantly, but he trailed off.  Remus glanced up at him, and he glanced back again.
“Dude, you don’t need to explain,” Virgil said.  “It’s okay.  If you don’t want to talk about it, we won’t talk about it.  Anyway, obviously Be Prepared is Disney’s best villain song, but do you have a preference in regards to the second best?  I’m torn between Poor Unfortunate Souls and The Mob Song from Beauty and The Beast.”
Remus glanced over at Virgil, surprised to find him moving on so comfortably.  He really didn’t seem bothered in the slightest.  Granted, Remus didn’t have much of a perspective on how important soulmates were in general society, but it was all anyone ever seemed to talk to him about growing up.  He wasn’t expecting Virgil to be so comfortable writing it off as a subject entirely.
“Uh,” Roman said, seeming just as caught off guard as Remus was.  “I think I prefer The Mob Song.  It’s a good cautionary tale about thinking critically.  Sorry, I need to back up for a second.  You’re just okay with not talking about soulmates?  At all?”
Virgil looked back over at him.  “Yeah.  Is that bad?  You didn’t seem to want me to.”
“But…” Roman glanced over at Remus again.  Remus shrugged.
“It’s just not usually something we get to wiggle our way out of,” Remus said, turning back to Virgil.  “It’s, you know, soulmates.  We always have to deal with it.”
Virgil raised an eyebrow.  “Always?  What soulmate obsessed nuthouse did you grow up in?”
Remus flinched hard, taking a couple steps back, and Roman stepped closer to him.
“None of your business,” Roman snapped at Virgil, who was now looking thoroughly confused and a little offended.
“Dude, you’re the ones who keep bringing it up now,” Virgil said, holding up his hands.  “I was totally cool dropping it and moving on.”
“I’m taking my break,” Remus said, turning around and running off before either of them could say anything else.
Instead of the break room, however, he headed straight for the employee bathroom and locked  himself inside.  Thankfully, it was a single person bathroom, meaning Remus was free to slide down to the floor and slam his head back against the door and slow his breathing without anyone watching him.
Virgil was going to figure it out now, and then he was going to call Remus’ nuthouse and get him shipped back there and Remus couldn’t take going back there.  He’d rather die, and that was not hyperbole.
A knock came at the door.  “Remus?” Roman called.  “Remus, it’s okay.  It’s just me.  Virgil’s not here.”
Remus reached up and turned the handle just enough so the door would unlock, then scooted forward so Roman could open the door and buried his head in his knees.
“Hey,” Roman said, locking the door behind him and moving around to kneel in front of Remus.
“This is the stupidest fucking freak out of all time,” Remus said into his pants.  “He literally fucking said we didn’t have to talk about it and then we didn’t shut up about it.”
“It’s… new,” Roman said hesitantly, putting a hand on Remus’ arm.  “It’s okay.  We’re figuring this out together, remember?”
Remus mumbled some kind of weak affirmation, because Roman was right but also he wasn’t doing so hot.
Roman squeezed his arm gently.  “Re?  Can I help you somehow?”
Remus pulled his head up.  “Can you tell me I’m okay?”
Roman’s brow furrowed in confusion.
“Can you say it anyway?” Remus said, answering his unasked question with another question.  “Even though I’m kind of not?”
Roman nodded, and pulled Remus forward into a hug.  “You’re okay, Remus,” he said.  “It’s okay.  You’re okay.”
Remus took a deep breath in and wrapped his arms around Roman.  And for a while, they sat there breathing.
They explained some of it to Virgil, afterwards.  Or, well, they explained it but they didn’t.  They told him that the two of them were platonic soulmates, and most people where they’d come from had been super not okay with that, and they were used to some kind of angry or condescending reaction when they explained.
Virgil said, again, that he got it, and they didn’t have to talk about it, which he’d apparently meant the first time.  He also offered to tell Janus so they didn’t have to have a repeat of the conversation, which they took him up on.
So after that, they had a job in a cool place with cool people, who were really actually okay with not talking about soulmates.  And Remus was pretty sure it was still going to take him a while to get used to that, but that was okay.  They weren’t in a rush.
...
Chapter Five
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quietwingsinthesky · 1 month
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📚🍬🔪🦷
what's the last thing you wrote down in your notes app? 
(oh, it’s this little bit i’d completely forgotten about that i think i scribbled down immediately after finishing hellbent.)
“And what color were Clara’s eyes?” the Doctor asks, slipping it into the rhythm of their conversation like any other question. Even’s fingers drum against the metal of the staircase they’ve seated themself on, two soft thuds of flesh and two clacks from parts that aren’t very good at pretending to be fingers anymore. They tip their head to the side.
“You don’t want my memories of her, Doctor.” Even drums again. One-two, three-four. “We weren’t exactly friends.”
“Nonsense. You’d have loved Clara,” he says it on reflex. He waits for something to follow, some internal feeling that he’s correct in his assumption or entirely off base. Nothing comes.
“You loved Clara,” Even corrects, gently. It sounds like pity, and it grates.
“See? You’re already telling me things.”
“You knew that already,” Even says. “You knew, or you wouldn’t be asking in the first place.” They shift forward, crossing their arms over their knees. “Please don’t ask,” they whisper.
Post an unpopular opinion about a popular fandom character.
Well, let me set up my usual fallback of Supernatural to allow me wiggle room for my Doctor Who take, but: my unpopular opinion is that Jack is an adult. He’s treated as an adult in canon. Making him into a child in canonverse stuff will have me squinting in suspicion for most people. obviously, not my trusted and beloved mutuals who are Understanders (and. more importantly. who I know are not harboring some unexamined ableist ideas.) but. everyone else does not get a pass and will be gazed upon with disdain :D actually, the bigger crime of making Jack a child and simplifying him is that you’re being boring, the fun of him comes from how messed up his situation is and how his sudden jump to adulthood is both horrifying but also one of the few ways he can grasp at control.
anyway, that’s a settled hot take in place so that i can say one for doctor who that im not sure is a hot take or not because i don’t know the fandom as well. but anyway, it’s that 90% of eleven and river’s scenes together did such a disservice to both of their characters that it actively uninvested me in the romance they were trying to sell. I feel like i may have said this before, but it’s like there’s a switch they flip when it’s time for the episode’s mandated eleven and river flirting time where they both turn into much more generic characters acting in ways that feel very ooc so that the show can. i don’t know, really. create tension, I suppose? But the tension falls flat because they aren’t acting like themselves so you can’t get invested in this relationship because it doesn’t feel like it’s being built off of them connecting. And it really stands out as just, truly awful, because you’ll also have some fantastic scenes actually exploring their relationship and the effects it has on both of them, the positive and the negative, and yes, I am talking about the broken wrist scene from Angels in Manhattan again because i wish all of elevenriver was like that, and it’s not, and i’m mad about it-!
what's the weirdest topic you researched for a writing project?
okay, i know it says research but it is much funnier to me if i just say that. sometimes. you need to describe a character touching something and you need the physical stimuli in your hands to really describe it, right? right. understandable. okay, so going from that, sometimes you need your character to say, lick a chair and describe that, and you realize you have no idea how to because how would you know what licking a chair is like? and then you look at your dining room chair from across the room. and you have to make a decision here. about what matters more to you. your dignity or your accuracy.
and if you’re a good writer, i think accuracy always wins.
share some personal wisdom or a life hack you swear on
breathing exercises are bullshit. you need to find a chant. you need to find something you can memorize and then when you feel yourself getting anxious, you need to start repeating it over and over and over. anything at all. what matters is that you’re saying it, out loud, and you can hear yourself saying it and you need to like the words so you’re focusing on what you’re saying, and this will save you. When I was in middle school, I did exorcisms. In high school, I’d repeat monologues from Hannibal to myself. Nowadays, I’m usually using the “heart. lungs. liver. nerves.” chant from slay the princess because it is short and ominous in a way that can be funny after a few repetitions and helps laugh the anxiety out of me.
and in a pinch, if you don’t have anything memorized, pull up the nearest piece of written text you have and start reading it out loud and don’t stop reading it until you’re calm again, and keep going a little after that just to make sure. Could be a fanfic you’ve got on your phone or could be an actual book. I’d reccomend the Iliad, because half of that book is just reciting name after name after name and you will start to hear how ridiculous it is rather than hearing your own anxiety, and it’ll help. you say “so and so brought 50 ships and he was the son of that guy who was king of this. and also this other dude, son of yet another guy we will never mention again, friends with holy shit another guy-“ and eventually you’re going to start giggling your way out of an anxiety attack.
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mysterypond · 1 year
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Get to know your fic writer! 2, 18, 26, 31, 55, 58, 74
2. Do you plan each chapter ahead or write as you go?
Yes and no... A lot of my planning process is super vague because I'm a pantser, so I rely more on what I call "key events"
Like for the Pariging coffeeshop au my outline was honestly just
Chapter 1: problem customer
Chapter 2: chess
Chapter 3: date
Chapter 4: Pariston kidnaps Gon
Chapter 5: jail
And that was pretty much it, because I kind of come up with most of the stuff I write while I'm actually physically writing it. Sometimes I will spontaneously merge / create new chapters too. It just depends on the vibes.
18. Do you title your fics before, during, or after the writing process? How do you come up with titles?
So funny story, a lot of my fics have what I call "working titles" which is a silly thing I'll use as a placeholder that often times ends up becoming the actual title. For humor fics I like to have funnier titles, and for more serious fics I try to keep the titles more serious. It just depends on the vibes. I'm honestly not the best at titling things, however I feel like I have a lot of really good titles and then a bunch of mediocre ones.
Some of my favorite titles and their meanings
Five x Star x Service - the whole thing centers around Ging and Pariston's employee-customer food over Pariston rating the coffee shop poorly out of 5 stars, and what Ging does to bring the rating up. Pretty self explanatory but I like it.
From Me x To You - the whole fic is written in the form of letters, so it's a play off the writing on the envelopes.
Re x Do - A timeloop fic
Baked x Beans - this one is super stupid but Beans is high during the events of the fic so
Let x Go - It's a play off "allow to proceed" and "give up" based on how exactly you interpret the dynamics between Mito and Ging during the fic.
26. Which of your fics would you call your wildest ride?
Five x Star x Service - I know I talk about this fic a lot but it's pretty tame up until chapter 4, which turns the goofy stakes serious.
Double x Date - it's double fake dating where no one is satisfied (Ging/Beans + Pariston/Piyon where Pariston and Ging are trying to play mind games for each other)
when the world sleeps it dreams - honestly anything I say about this fic is a spoiler
Bringing x The x Milk x Myself - Mizai milk. Enough said.
Name x Game - dwun's payback for ging legally changing his name... it's short but the gag at the end is fun.
AITA for assuming the bounty hunter out to kill me was a woman? - the only AITA to make this list just bc it has chrollo as the narrator
I'd say pretty much all of these are "wild rides" in their own ways
31. Do you start with the characters or the plot when writing?
A bit of both. A lot of times it starts with a "what if X character did Y thing?" For original stories, I always start with plot first and then create a character to navigate it.
55. Of the characters you write for, which is your favorite? Has that choice been swayed at all by your followers/readers’ reactions to certain ones?
I would say my favorite character to write would have to be Ging but specifically because I've used him as a rp character for so long that I've delved into my headcanons for how he thinks and the justifications for his actions that I think I have a really strong grasp on how I write him. Which is kind of funny in that part of the way I characterize him is like "me, but if I were more of a jackass" especially since the way I have him swear in fics is a 1-1 ratio of the swearing style I use when I speak.
I don't actually know if people like the way I write Ging or not, I don't really get compliments on my characterization of him compared to other characters but also I don't really care. People have different ways they view the characters, and the way I write him is my personal interpretation so if people don't agree it's not my problem.
58. What part of the writing process do you enjoy the most? (Brainstorming, outlining, writing, editing, etc) 
Writing for sure!
74. You’ve posted a fic anonymously. How would someone be able to guess that you’d written it?
Haha this is pretty funny because there's a few surefire tells if you know me well enough.
a) There are certain words I misspell very frequently but also consistently without catching it. The most common giveaway is that i write "uhg" instead of "ugh" because phonetically "uhg" makes more sense for how I pronounce it.
b) sense of humor. I feel like the humor fics I write balance a fine line between "lol random xD crack" and "this has like, structured jokes". I like to write a lot of situational humor, and sometimes I'll choose certain funny words in the prose to deal extra psychic damage, so I think someone would have a hard time replicting my style of humor.
c) there's a few phrases that are similar to things I say irl which I feel are less common to use in fics, because a lot of times my prose is written in a similar way to how I speak. I've had friends who know me irl comment that my writing SOUNDS like I'm reading it to them in their heads, just because I have a very particular and unique cadence to my voice (I blame living in 3 different areas with 3 distinct regional accents for that one). I think people who have heard me speak either irl or over voice chat would have a much easier time if I gave them a passage from a few fics and asked them to identify which one is mine.
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Gold Digger || Ari & Kitty
TIMING: Current-ish PARTIES: @kallmekitty & @letsbenditlikebennett SUMMARY: Ari goes to crash in Kitty’s room after some nightmares and they hear something outside. In a true Ari & Kitty fashion, they now have a new pet. CONTENT: Sibling Death
The nightmares had become routine at this point. Ari would spend thirty minutes before bed trying to fill her mind with positive thoughts yet no matter how hard she tried, just a couple of hours she’d shoot up in bed with a sheen of sweat covering her body. Tonight was no different and she felt the cracks in the foundation becoming worse. She was so exhausted and hugged her pillow pleading for her mind to just allow her to sleep. Physically and mentally, she wasn’t sure how much more of this she could take, so in an effort to maybe get more than a couple hours of sleep, she quietly padded over to Kitty’s room and knocked softly. With an indication she could come in, Ari opened the door and asked, “Do you mind if I crash in here? I– Bad dreams.” 
 Kitty hadn’t gone to sleep after she got off the phone with her family, instead choosing to stay up a little later. Her brother had wanted to watch some new horror movie that had just come out, and horror just couldn’t scare her quite right anymore, so she’d agreed. It wasn’t the movie that kept her up. She was just missing home a bit more than usual. She liked White Crest well enough, the people in it moreso, but she’d never really thought about leaving home on her own. The only person she would have left with was gone, though, and that was her fault. Kitty wasn’t one for pity parties, but she missed Parker. She missed her best friend. She missed the boy she loved, even if it had never been the way that folks had wanted. So she rubbed at her eyes and put on a smile when Ari walked in, pulling back the covers and patting the unoccupied side of the bed. “Course,” she said. “Get in here. I told you, I’ll kick your bad dreams’ ass.”
 Ari managed a weak smile as Kitty talked about kicking some dream ass. If anyone could manage as much, it’d be Kitty. She always found it easy to slip into a playful rhythm with the other wolf and pretend like the world was all fun. They both knew it wasn’t, but as she padded into Kitty’s bed, she wanted to allow herself to believe as much for a minute. She was a bit surprised to find her roommate still away. She’d been pulling a lot of shifts at the diner lately so it was hard to have a good grip on her schedule. As she laid down and rested her head on her hand, she noted, “I wasn’t expecting you to still be up. I know your name’s Kitty, but I swear Flippd has been working you like a dog.” She cracked a smile at the stupid joke. It still fell a bit flat and she let out a sigh. “I think it’s more me and my own head that needs its ass kicked. Guess all the shit I didn’t want to process had to catch up to me eventually or something.” 
 Laughing at the joke, Kitty said, “They must know I’m actually a wolf. The name’s just a cover up.” She had been working a lot lately, though. She didn’t know why, some sort of desire to make sure that she and the rest of the house were provided for, maybe. Farm’s needed maintenance, and maintenance needed money, and money needed hard work in order to get anything done. It was something to devote her time to, Kitty realized, something to think about. “My brother wanted to watch a movie. We were FaceTiming.” She said by way of an explanation. She looked at Ari in concern, though, glancing over at her in concern. “You want to talk about it?”
 That was one of the things Ari loved about Kitty. She could always go along with a joke meant to lighten the mood. Usually always had an even funnier joke of her own to contribute. It made her company easy, soothing even. She laughed along and snuggled into the warm blankets. She was glad Kitty was having some time with her brother. It had to be hard being so far away from her family. She sometimes wondered if turning into a werewolf was what made Kitty leave in the first place. Maybe one day she’d know, but it didn’t feel like something to push. “That sounds like a nice time,” she said wistfully. It made her miss nights on the sofa under blankets sleepily watching movies with her own sister. She took a moment to ponder Kitty’s question. Talking about it was probably a good idea, but even that made her feel a pang of guilt. She was supposed to be the one looking out for Kitty and it really felt like Kitty was more her rock than anything else. Maybe if she at least admitted some of it, she’d feel better. Even just being able to sleep more than a couple of hours would be enough. “Yes and no,” she answered with a sigh, “More like it’s just a lot. I guess my whole life has kind of felt like a slow spiral since I lost my sister a couple years ago. Everyone just sort of keeps dying and so much of it was my fault. Celeste died protecting me. Sammy died because I tried to save him. Todd was only brought on to be a fae meal because Sammy was dead. Alcher…” 
Ari felt her voice crack with the last one. Kitty deserved Alcher here, not her. She took a deep breath. “I should have gotten between them. I shouldn’t have just trusted Kaden would stop just because I begged him too. And I know Alcher would hate me for forgiving him, but it’s not that simple.” She burrowed further into the blanket as if that could hide her from any disappointment that admission would bring. It wouldn’t be unearned, the image of Alcher that haunted her told her as much every day. 
 “It was a shit movie,” Kitty said fondly before she moved the blankets around Ari, trying not to appear like she was fussing over her even if she was. Kitty wasn’t maternal, but she did care about her friends, and she wanted to make sure that Ari was comfortable, especially with what she was going through. She listened as Ari spoke, her face turning somber. That was so much weight to put on Ari’s thin shoulders. Kitty knew Ari wasn’t a kid anymore than she was, but, God, the girl looked so young sometimes. She looked so haunted sometimes. Both of them were a little haunted. Both of them had a little too much on their shoulders. Kitty could understand. She understood. That was why she shook her head. “Honey, none of that’s your fault. It ain’t on you unless you’re the one that does it.” That was why Kitty knew she was responsible for Parker. 
Kitty sighed. “Or you could have died. You don’t know what would have happened.” Kitty still didn’t understand what happened, not really, but she’d heard how monster hunters could be. Once they were on their hunts, there wasn’t much that would stop them. She didn’t know this Kaden, but it was clear Ari cared for him. It was less clear if he would have stopped if Ari had gotten in the way. “I don’t know if she would have hated you, but forgiveness is your own choice. And you’re right: it’s not that simple. I doubt there’s a damn thing in this world that is simple.”
 There was no anger, no sense of betrayal, only comfort. Some small part of Ari knew that would be the case, but had kept that guilt close to her chest anyway. She couldn’t put a finger on why. She used to be a relatively open book and she couldn’t figure out exactly when that changed. She couldn’t simply place when she stopped feeling worthy of the love she gave out so freely. Still, she felt haunted. She could still hear Alcher’s whispers creeping in the back of her mind like a fever dream that never ended. That didn’t change the kind of friend Kitty was. The older wolf was always understanding and supportive. She always had a way of framing things that made it feel a little lighter. Deep down, she knew there wasn’t a single secret that wouldn’t be safe with Kitty. She pondered her words for a minute. She hadn’t pulled the trigger, that much was true. “Yeah, maybe,” she agreed quietly. It was hard to not feel like she hadn’t done enough. 
“I guess I could have, huh,” Ari said as she thought it over. If that happened, Kaden and Alcher likely would have destroyed each other. Or the surviving of the two would live with that guilt forever. That’s not something she’d wish on either of them. She leaned her head into Kitty’s shoulder and let out a sigh. “I guess it doesn’t really matter much anymore whether she loves or hates me,” she contemplated, “If it were the other way around, I think I would have forgiven Alcher, too. I get why they wanted each other dead. She killed his family and his family killed her family. They’d both done bad things, but I loved them anyway. I’ve done plenty wrong they’ve both forgiven me for, too.”
She paused and curled further into her friend. “You’re not upset that I did though?” 
 “You know I’m right,” Kitty wheedled softly, nudging against Ari as the smaller girl moved in closer. She knew she couldn’t convince Ari of that if the other girl wasn’t ready, but she’d try. At the end of the day, she didn’t know Alcher well enough to know whether or not she’d hate Ari for her forgiveness, but that didn’t really matter now. Alcher had loved her wolves, her pack. She seemed like the kind of woman who would do what she needed to protect her family, and she’d somehow included them both as a part of that. Even Kitty, a turned wolf who had no place in any of this. Alcher had been nothing but kind to her, and she’d carry that with her wherever she went. 
“You could have,” Kitty repeated softly. “And I don’t think that would have turned out too well for anybody, do you?” Kitty certainly wouldn’t still be in White Crest. She would have packed up right then and left without a word. She was still figuring this whole thing out, being a part of the supernatural in a way that wasn’t quite what she expected, and being with the smaller wolf was the closest she’d felt like home since she left home. She didn’t really know what she’d do without this. Kitty wrapped her arm around Ari. “I think that’s how it goes. You love people because you love them, even if they’re wrong. They were both wrong. I think you ended that, the cycle of violence, when you forgave him.” She sighed. “So, no, I’m not upset with you, sweetie. It’s a big thing to forgive, especially for such a little wolf.” 
Kitty let her voice take on a teasing tone, hoping to cheer Ari up a little more, before she heard something outside. A trash can was knocked over. She sat up a little, her arm still wrapped around Ari. “Shit. Was that a fucking raccoon?”
 It was hard for Ari to figure if things would be better or worse if it had been her to fall instead of Alcher or Kaden. One or both of them would be living with the same bone crushing guilt that haunted her moments, waking and sleeping alike. Kyle had said she was the first wolf and friend he had really had. With Nell gone, she couldn’t imagine leaving Kitty behind. There was a constant battle in her mind of whether she deserved to be here or whether she needed to stop being reckless and stay. Both her and Kitty had said it, nothing was ever that simple. “No,” she finally agreed, “I don’t think it would have.” 
She would keep trying to believe that. It was easy for Ari to take to heart when she was lying beside her closest friend. Of all the places Kitty could have found during her travels, she was thankful it was White Crest. She could feel the tears pricking the corners of her eyes. Kitty’s words echoed all she had wanted to do since she’d lost Celeste. It still didn’t feel like she was doing anything as effectively as Celeste had, but she could keep trying. It was all she could. She nodded from her place cozied in the blankets. “Yeah,” she said quietly, “I like to think people are bigger than the things they’ve done. And that’s what I’ve wanted since– to end that cycle of violence. I guess forgiving him plays into that.” 
Ari smiled at the last part. “You’re one of the few people who can call me little and not catch these hands.” 
A crash from outside had both of them on high alert. The clanging of plastic bags and the bin indicated it was the trash can that had fallen which could mean a number of things. She sat up, still partially nestled into Kitty. Ari grimaced. “That doesn’t sound good. Raccoon or bear is my guess though we should probably pick it up before we have trash fucking everywhere.” 
She reluctantly moved from her spot on the bed to take a peek outside the window. “Huh,” Ari commented, “I don’t see anything. You may be right about the trash panda. Better get it to scurry off.” 
 Kitty allowed herself to relax a little at Ari’s words. And they might have to have this conversation again, might have to talk this through again late at night when Ari’s mind started working too hard, especially if doubts creeped in like mosquitos buzzing around on a Mississippi summer night. Kitty would just have to swat them away again until it stuck. She’d keep doing it as long as Ari needed her to, as long as she was around. She didn’t mind. It was the least she could do. Hell, it was something she wanted to do. Long term wants weren’t things she’d held onto since she left home, but this one, she thought, was worth it.
“Forgiving him’s a lot more than some folks would do,” Kitty said. She didn’t know what to say about people being bigger than what they’ve done, being more. Sometimes, she felt so small. She thought about waking up covered in blood, and she thought about what was left of her best friend, and she thought about the look on his mama’s face when she said she didn’t remember the night before, didn’t know where he’d gone, and she felt tiny. Magic had always been beautiful to her, but the magic inside of her was an animal, and it was ravenous, and it had only ever done bad things. But Kitty couldn’t talk about that. She shouldn’t put those kinds of things on the other wolf. She laughed instead. “I’m grateful. Your hands are just too powerful for me to face.”
With a sigh, Kitty followed Ari to the window and looked outside, but she didn’t see anything either. She hoped it wasn’t a bear. She wasn’t in the mood to deal with a bear. But Ari said she thought it was a raccoon, and Kitty couldn’t help the silent laughter forcing its way through her body. “I fucking love raccoons,” she said quietly, happily. “I hope it’s a raccoon.” 
 “Probably,” Ari agreed, “I think I’d feel worse if I didn’t forgive him.” As much was true, especially after she saw how low he’d been that first night she stopped by. It was clear he was full of remorse for the lives he’d taken, so much so he couldn’t even stand to look at his weapons. With support, Kaden could probably grow into someone he could be proud of. Ari wondered if the same could be true of her. She used to believe as much, but she didn’t feel like the same person anymore. That girl she was two years ago seemed a whole world away, but maybe if Kitty could love the person she was now, she could learn to do the same. All she knew was these late night talks were something she cherished and never wanted to lose. To have a friend who could see the parts of her that she hated and still love her anyway gave her hope that maybe she could one day be deserving of it again. 
She laughed at Kitty’s joke as they made their way outside. Ari could hear something rummaging through the trash can which checked out for a racoon. “You may be in luck,” she said with a chuckle, “It sure sounds like a raccoon. Probably going after the bits of leftover food.”
As Ari approached the bin, she tentatively peeked inside. While still a small animal, it was far too long to be a raccoon. The creature’s long body was striped and it had bright yellow eyes that were looking up at her. To her surprise, it wasn’t a piece of food hanging carefully from it’s lips, but a bracelet she’d lost. Overall, it looked harmless and kinda cute. She looked over at Kitty, “Have you ever seen one of these before? Looks kind of like a weasel or ferret.” 
She carefully reached into the trashcan and scooped the little guy out. “Hey, buddy,” she cooed, “Mind if I take that back?” 
 “I think I can understand that,” Kitty said. She figured that she’d probably forgive the people that she loved, too, for doing bad things. That was kind of the downside to love: it took away most of the logic that existed in people’s bodies and replaced it with something that didn’t understand that the ways of the world were supposed to be simple and straightforward. Nothing was ever simple. Nothing was ever straightforward. 
Kitty bounced on the balls of her feet as they headed outside, excited by the prospect of seeing a cute little critter without having to worry about chasing after it because of a werewolf prey drive. Not that raccoons made tasty treats, but they, like most things, ran in the face of a giant predator, from what she remembered of a full moon a couple of months ago. When they made it to the bin, she leaned in with Ari, taking a long look at the creature inside. No, it wasn’t a raccoon, but that didn’t matter at all with how cute it was. Kitty couldn’t help but let out a little aw, especially when she saw that the creature had a bracelet in its mouth. “Not a raccoon, but still a thief,” she said happily. 
“Still striped, too, though it’s the entire body instead of just the tail,” Kitty added, looking over the little creature and its markings as Ari pulled it out of the trash. She reached over to give the creature scritches behind its ears. “I haven’t the faintest idea what it is,” she said happily. “It’s cute as hell, though.”
 “A really cute thief,” Ari said with a wide grin. It seemed to be comfortable enough in her hands and she used one of them to give it some scratches near its ears. The little weasel leaned into her touch and she cooed at it. If it were literally anything else, she’d probably be sketched out by the stripes, but this little guy was far too adorable. She carefully took the bracelet from its mouth and put it back on her wrist with her free hand. “I’m not sure either. It’s a long boy so I think it's some kinda weasel. He’s friendly.” 
Ari held her hands out and asked, “Wanna hold him?” She passed their new friend off to Kitty and observed him momentarily. It needed a name. With how long it was, Ari immediately suggested, “We should call him Noodle! And keep him, he shouldn’t have to dig through the trash for food.” 
 For a critter that had been rooting through the garbage, their new friend was incredibly docile, and Kitty couldn’t help but be a little enamored. “I grew up with some weird ass animals,” she mused quietly. “Not just farm animals, but my mama has an axe-handle hound, and Taki ain’t the first ovinnik I’ve ever seen.” She realized, probably, that this was the most she talked about her life before. She’d shared she had siblings, and she’d talked a little bit about farming practices when they were working outside, but she didn’t talk about that. The magic. Even with Nell, she hadn’t talked about it much. 
“Oh, hell yeah,” Kitty said, taking the weasel happily into her arms. It squirmed around, seeming to enjoy it, and she cradled it like a baby and rubbed under its chin. She laughed, then, at the name suggestion. “Noodle. He is kinda noodle-y, ain’t he?” The weasel squirmed some more and settled in as if to prove her point. “Yeah, I’m alright with that. It’s a little quiet around here,” she teased. “What d’ya think Kyle’s gonna say?”
 Outside of some mentions of her siblings and the farm, Kitty hadn’t talked about home all that much and Ari hadn’t pushed. If Kitty wanted to talk about that stuff, she hoped her friend knew she was always there for a listening ear. “Huh, Taki is the first ovinnik I’ve  ever seen, not sure I know what an ax-handle hound is either,” she mused as the little weasel settled into Kitty. Her family had to know about the supernatural if that was the case, but she tried to subdue her own curiosity for the sake of her friend. She knew some things were too hard to talk about, especially if you weren’t ready.
“Long and skinny like a Noodle,” Ari exclaimed, “He’d be perfect for the ‘My money doesn’t jingle jingle, it folds’ sound on TikTok!” She was bouncing on the balls of her feet, nightmares long forgotten at the prospect of another animal around the farm. There was a mental checklist in her head of things she'd need to get for the weasel so it’d be comfortable, well-fed, and safe. “Awesome, I’ll go to the pet store tomorrow to get some stuff for it. Can’t be that different than a ferret, can it,” she asked and added, “I’m sure Kyle will be fine with it. I mean look at him, who wouldn’t love this little guy?” 
 “Geb’s got a head that looks like an axe. He liked sitting on the porch and barking at all of us and eating sticks, honestly. A good little fella,” Kitty said, giving the weasel another belly rub. She’d never get a familiar. Hell, once a month she was a literal fucking animal. She felt so much closer to the world, though, which was what she wanted. Even if she knew it wasn’t the same. But now she could hear the little weasel’s heart. She could smell the night and all of its individual scents. She couldn’t touch the earth and make it grow, but she knew the smell of it in the air, on her tongue. That had to be enough.
“Yes!” Kitty said loudly, her voice startling the little weasel as she jumped as well. “Sorry, fella.” She rubbed it under the chin again. “I think weasels and ferrets are of a similar family. Distant cousins, if nothing else.” She was already pretty stoked about the creature, even if it was kinda weird and definitely not what some folks would qualify as normal. Really, that just meant that it fit in around them. “You know what? You’re totally right. This is the most lovable face in the world.”
“Huh, you know, makes sense with the name,” Ari said as she imagined what the hound looked like. It did sound pretty damn cute, though she thought most animals were cute. She wondered how Kitty’s mom had gotten one, but she returned her focus to their new pet. She leaned toward Kitty and gave it a little pet after it jumped from the excitement. Noodle seemed to settle right back into her arms happily and it brought a wide smile to her face. “I guess that’s that then,” she beamed, “Welcome to the family, Noodle!” 
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vvanessaives · 2 years
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7, 13, 24, 32, 45 + vesper/fenix 🙃
screaming crying at some of these questions i've been losing my mind, THANK YOU LEAH
7. What annoys them the most about their partner? Would they change it if they could?
to fenix, vesper is a bit TOO serious all the time...and he is right..but i haven’t said this. it’s not like she isn’t funny or can’t enjoy life but there’s so much going on in her life all the time and if she doesn’t have the control over it then she’s scared something bad could happen to her loved ones. fenix jokingly tells her that she’s not “as funny as when you were younger”, implying that she is getting old and boring (vesper is going to get angry about this asfjlk). deep down it’s all harmless teasing, i don’t think he would want her to change anyway: she IS funny, adventurous, she just needs to know that everything is alright, she needs to be relaxed. and fenix is great at bringing out her chill & funny side so everything is okay <3
vesper is annoyed by the fact that fenix can’t literally act NICE to anyone. he is...peculiar, and most of the time his mocking and full of himself personality can really set off people. vesper is like yes yes i know he is like that BUT i swear he gets better with time (or you get used to it i guess). it's mostly a front, i mean he mocks a lot and he is full of himself but guess that makes a bad first impression on anyone. so basically she just wished he stopped getting into fights with half city. would save her a lot of trouble but again, it’s not something she would want to “change”. she’s used to it and deep down finds his antics quite funny
SOMETHING THEY WOULD CHANGE THO: vesper wants him to stop going on a infinite rant every time they eat “italian” food because he thinks it sucks and he has to point out EVERY. SINGLE. DEFECT. while fenix wishes for vesper to develop good taste akfjkfk
13. What do they do for fun? Do they have a favorite activity or do they like to switch things up?
their fave thing to do together are CAR RIDES. absolutely. vesper loves them, fenix loves seeing her so happy. win-win. and usually after that there’s always uhhh..something else in store for him, vesper thinks driving is hot and fast cars make her act unwise....so huh you know...double win-win.
they like movie nights too!! at home or be it at the movie theatre, in first case they can chat and laugh and just lay on top of each other on the couch, while the second case is open to other funny activities to do around the city after the movie ends.
vesper LOVES to dance, she’s good at it too so while fenix is terrible at it he will comply and enjoy a nice night out clubbing and i mean..I MEAN. win-win. vesper is quite hot when dancing and fenix wouldn’t miss the chance to have his hands on her as they dance super close to each other in the suffocating crowd y’know. AND as i said here for the dates question: missing the chance to see vesper all dressed up? HE WILL GO. IT DOESN’T MATTER if he is COMICALLY BAD he will enjoy the show.
also something fun they do sometimes is trying to teach other another language, fenix knows italian while vesper knows french and spanish. most of the time they just say a phrase and see how long it takes the other to understand it. fenix has a lot of trouble with french fkjdklj
OH and of course some of their funnier moments get spent with daniel too because that guy can turn everything into a party or make people have fun, BUT no pda is allowed when he is around <3
24. Any doubts about the relationship?
i mean..i MEAN...fenix? zero doubts. vesper? sometimes it gets hard. after everything that went down between these two i wouldn’t blame her to have a few doubts about the relationship. when vesper finally gives him a second chance you can bet she went through one hundred different thoughts. does she want him back? YES. is she scared that this will result in heartbreak again? yea...she placed a bet on a relationship she knows failed once already, that’s high risk gambling and having doubts it's normal but vesper REALLY REALLY wants to be with him, she loves him. also fenix is a "new man" now. i don’t like the concept that “he changed” for vesper, i do believe that what makes fenix himself is still there (if he changed that would mean love a different man), he simply understood what he did wrong and the reason why AND that he shouldn’t be scared of getting closer to someone and love them. that’s growth
32. Do they ever get into trouble? Is it serious, or are they just mischievous?
trouble could be fenix’s second name honestly, wherever he goes he takes trouble with him really and of course vesper gets dragged into it. sometimes he gets into stupid quarrels with people, even the store clerk to make an example, and sometimes he just..he just fucks up something big time and that’s when the biggest troubles come from. thankfully vesper is always there to get him out of most of these situations, she just goes [dramatic sigh] what did you do this time, who wants to kill you now?
during their first times together vesper got dragged in a LOT of troubles because of him, perfect example is that fic i wrote that is hanging somewhere on this blog where he gets kidnapped alongside with her. he’s a man that can get very easily on your nerves so vesper doesn’t really blame any of the people that try to punch him akjfhkjd
45. Any special dreams or goals they have as a couple? Any heartbreaks? Regrets?
answered here!
ask game || oc page
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Stuckys, we need to talk. Like, seriously.
I understand you're upset that Stucky is not canon in the MCU, but you have got to stop yourselves from using that fact to shit all over Black characters just because of their newfound proximity to Bucky Barnes. Seriously. No, seriously. I'm going to call a bunch of you out, now, but I hope you listen and take heed.
1) This isn't about queer representation for you. It's about Chris and Sebastian being hot white men and you wanting to see them make out on screen. And that's literally fine, who doesn't want to see that? But you need to start admitting that's what it is. Because if it wasn't about that, and it was really about queer representation, so many of you wouldn't be calling Sam Wilson "sloppy seconds", and y'all wouldn't treat both Sam and Anthony like an afterthought. Even with a lot of y'all becoming Sambucky shippers, you're doing it under the guise of Sam being some sort of consolation prize because Bucky can't have Steve. Sam has no agency, and also is treated like he isn't as good. Literally, I saw a TikTok with some girl pretending to be Bucky and Sam, and having Bucky literally tell Sam he's sloppy seconds because he can't have Steve. Literally yikes, guys.
Also, it's always girl fans who do this. I'm not saying there aren't any, but I never see gay men who are MCU fans shipping in this toxic way. And I definitely have seen gay men ship Stucky, but I swear to God there seems to be a clear difference in the way they ship vs the white girls who clearly just want to watch Chris and Sebastian make out. Literally every toxic Stucky I've ever seen who does stuff like this is a white girl. I'm not going to say no gay men are toxic fans, because there probably are some, but the amount of fans I see shitting on Sam who are white girls far outweighs any toxic Stucky gay man. Like I always say on here, Stucky is an obvious ship and I understand why people ship it, but it never had to be canon and treating it like it's the end all be all, and especially shitting on other ships like Sambucky, is really weird and, again, makes it obvious that it's not really about queer representation for you.
2) Bucky is allowed to flirt with Sarah Wilson. The same girl I saw saying Sam was "sloppy seconds" also said Bucky was only flirting with Sarah because she's an "extension of Sam", and because Kevin Feige won't let Sambucky happen so Sarah is the stand in. How insulting and sexist to insinuate that a woman is simply an extension of her male family member. No matter how you meant it, that's a really sexist notion. I've seen people make funnier jokes, like Bucky can't decide which Wilson sibling he likes, or he's going to become a Wilson one way or another. Neither of those jokes takes autonomy and humanity away from Sarah. ALSO, Sarah is a dark skinned Black woman being portrayed as desirable to the white boy fave on a major TV show that is part of the biggest film franchise in the world. I'm not sure if y'all know how much colorism effects Black women, especially dark skinned Black women. Hollywood almost never casts dark skinned Black women as desirable love interests. Especially one that isn't super modelesque with basically European features and bone straight hair. This is a positive thing for representation of dark skinned Black women, and I KNOW you've seen how happy Black girls were just seeing that 2 second interaction. How dare you reduce it to being there because Marvel stole your Stucky, and especially not because she's simply "an extension of Sam." At this point, there's no clear indication that Sarah and Bucky will literally happen, but goddamn, you can't let Black girls be a love interest for just one second? Even if you like "queer Bucky", bisexual men exist, damn. Sticking Bucky with Sharon for no reason, like they did with Steve, would have been weird and bad and you would have been more valid for questioning Marvel's motives for doing it, but letting Bucky be himself and flirt with a cute girl on a boat for 2 seconds isn't a bad thing. And if Sarah does actually become his girlfriend, it's an absolute win, and you need to let Black girls have this.
Like, I get Stucky, and I also understand wishing Marvel would just finally let any main character be actually queer. I seriously understand. But can you complain about that without shitting on the Black characters and the fans who are happy about them, right now?
I never was a fan of Stucky, because I don't think you have to have romantic feelings for someone to care about them that deeply, so I don't understand the Stucky shipper assertion that Marvel somehow stole something owed to them... but I also do understand why you ship it, and it's honestly not a bad ship. You guys just take it too far and make things uncomfortable for everyone else. And, as I've been saying for years, sometimes you make it lowkey racist. People have been shipping Stevesam since CA:TWS and you guys have downplayed it the entire time, and even used Sam as Steve's stand-in for Bucky in your fics and all of that. I remember reading fics tagged Stevesam where Steve would be having sex with Sam and then reminiscing about how it was with Bucky and wishing he were still with him, and y'all literally never saw how gross that was. Using Sam like a consolation prize. Now Steve is gone and you're still treating him like that.
And Sam and Bucky have never once treated each other like a stand-in for Steve. They treat each other like individuals with autonomy, and they even care for each other on the level that the other person needs it. It's actually really fucking good, the canon version of their relationship that's unfolded with the show. If y'all could let go of Steve for a second, literally, you would see how great Sambucky's dynamic is and that neither of them would ever see the other as "sloppy seconds" or some kind of consolation prize. It's gross.
Also, I hope Sarah gets that super soldier dick just to piss y'all off.
I'm done.
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mismaeve · 2 years
Note
didn't realize i needed be to told i was cute until i saw this prompt so if i may humbly request character of your choice x reader with this prompt - “ you're really cute, you know. “ gender-neutral reader, if you don't mind 💕
Thank you so much for the ask. Now that I finally had time to write it, I had so much fun. I picked Thranduil for your imagine, so I hope you will enjoy this little drabble. I've never written him in this manner, so I hope the story makes sense. Anyway, I really do hope you like it. Please, kindly, let me know! 💕
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↳ Only You, Thranduil x Gender!Neutral Reader, Modern AU Warnings: general fluff, suggestive language (maybe?), swearing Word Count: 800+ Gif Credit: @incomplete-coincidence
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“I still cannot understand why you bother watching this nonsense,” Thranduil scoffed and rolled his eyes at the screen, clearly exasperated at the show you were currently watching. It didn’t take a genius to see that he wasn’t a fan of Game of Thrones. He would get especially worked up every time one of Daenerys’ dragons would come up on the screen. “It just feels so wrong, every fiber in my body is telling me that a dragon is no pet, let alone a child,” he would grumble under his breath, his hand going to rub the side of his face and neck. You began suspecting that Thranduil, because of Game of Thrones of all things, was developing a nervous tick. ㅤ “Will you relax, it’s just a show. I get that fun is an abstract concept to you, but you could still try, you know?” you teased with a smirk plastered across your features. You wondered if he knew that you secretly found his annoyed state amusing if not downright hilarious. The more worked up he got, the funnier it became for you. “Would you just look at her, straddling the fucking thing like it was no big deal,” he sounded almost horrified, and you had to bite the inside of your cheek to prevent yourself from bursting out laughing. You stole a quick glance over at him and saw that Thranduil was shaking his head in disapproval. Clearly, the man was very unimpressed with the Dragon Queen. ㅤ The longer you watched him for from your seat on the couch, the more it seemed to you that he was actually uncomfortable with this evening’s source of entertainment. Giving it no second thought, you moved over to him, swinging your legs across his lap. Suddenly, it was no longer amusing, and you felt the need to comfort your man. Placing your head neatly in the crook of his neck, you snuggled close to him, breathing him in as you did. Sometimes you were convinced he smelled close to divine, like something that wasn’t from this world. You closed your eyes as you enjoyed his scent, something deeply earthy with a hint of wildflowers and freshly trimmed grass. ㅤ “You’re really cute, you know,” he murmured as he wrapped his arms around your frame, pulling you in that much closer to him. “Even though I force you to watch Game of Thrones with me?” you asked him cheekily, lifting your head enough to be able to glance up at him. His pale eyes were watching you with a seriousness you had rarely seen before. “You’re the only one I would ever watch it with,” his tone matched the look in his eyes, making you feel unsure of whether he was joking or not. “You’re the only one I’d do a lot of things with,” he continued softly, his eyes lighting up some as his features seemed to relax. You felt so mesmerised by him, being so close with him always had a way of feeling deeply intoxicating. “Things like what?” a widely curious smile drew upon your lips as your eyes never left his. “Well, let’s see here, kisses for one,” he murmured quietly as he dipped his head and offered you a kiss so deep yet lovingly soft that it summoned a flock of butterflies in your stomach. You gasped when he broke your kiss at last, thinking that if he hadn’t allowed you to come up for air, you would have passed out from oxygen deprivation. And it would have been worth it. “Caressing your body,” he whispered sensually as his fingers found the skin on your neck, moving every so lightly, just barely touching. Thranduil’s long digits offered their feather-like touch all along your neck, and when they approached your hairline, it summoned pleasant goosebumps. You fought the shiver that had suddenly emerged from deep within, your body enjoying every moment of this. “Telling you I love you, is something else I’d do only for you,” he breathed out hot against the skin of your neck, only amplifying the already existing feeling of pleasure. “I’d only ever be with you,” his whisper was barely audible, if he hadn’t been so close, you wouldn’t have heard it at all. You smiled to yourself, still even after all this time, it baffled you how you had managed to get this lucky as to land such an amazing man like him.
The two of you fit so well together, it felt like it was always meant to be. Written in the stars. A touch of destiny or something else just as divine and powerful. “I love you too,” you murmured back at the man who had become everything to you. Just like you knew you had become his everything. It was truly a match made in heaven.
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funkwhistle · 3 years
Text
Bruises
Pairing: Dutch Van Der Linde x fem!Reader
Warnings: Fluff, a little bit of dubious content later
Prompt: 3.3k - Reader and Dutch being a secret thing in camp and at Clemens Point reader removes more clothes/changes and reveals these almighty hickeys and finger shaped bruises covering their body. - from @dragonwolf121​ - 
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(Image is mine - don’t reupload without credit)
The hot summer rain had let up for a few minutes this morning, but it was back with vengeance by noon, drumming heavily on the tents and turning the usually dry grass in camp into muddy swathes. Cain loved these, of course, rolling in them and shaking mud on everything whenever he could. Miss Grimshaw had let you off any jobs which required you to leave the little shelter provided by the girls' wagon. Occasionally, someone left camp for some reason, and returned a few hours later looking dishevelled and like a drowned rat; even though the rain was warm, the air was cooling rapidly.
You were sitting cutting vegetables for the stew next to Tilly, watching as the rain created ripples on the lake. On the other side of camp, Arthur and Dutch were huddled, whispering, in the opening to the latter's tent, although it mostly involved pointing at the rain and scowling. As you were watching them, Dutch caught your eye and you could see the faintest hint of a smile crossing his face as he looked at you, turning back to the conversation before Arthur caught what he was looking at.
Just his look alone made you forget what you'd been doing, your heart dancing happily in your chest at the fact he was happy to see you. Chancing another glance, you could tell he wasn't as absorbed in the conversation as before, his eyes kept flitting to yours over Arthur's shoulder and he kept shifting awkwardly. You hoped he was thinking of what you were; how the pair of you had spent the majority of the last night.
You sighed as he moved, placing languid, open-mouthed kisses on your jawline. His hands held the top of your thighs, digging bruises into your skin as you straddled his lap on the bed, head tilted to the side to give him better access to your neck. The pair of you had been at this for a while, enjoying the comfort of the other's arms, and the soft kisses you placed on each other. Dutch, however, clearly had other ideas as he rolled his hips into yours, making you let out another breathy sigh, aware that all that was separating you from the rest of camp was four thin canvas walls.
“I've missed this,” he hummed, attacking your neck again with kisses which made your eyes flutter closed. He'd been away on a job with the Sheriff for a few days, and tonight was the first night the pair of you could reunite without suspicion. You couldn't remember how you'd lived at camp before seeing him, these illicit nighttime visits brought a thrill to your comparatively mundane life.
Much to your disappointment, however, he pulled away from you, allowing the both of you to catch a breath and look at the other's face; the pupils in his dark eyes were blown wide, and his usually well-pomaded hair was ruffled as a result of your roaming hands. You loved to see him like this, the usually powerful gang leader covered in smudged lipstick and eyes full of lust for you. Just thinking this made you smile, and you kissed him again, making him groan a little as you rolled your hips.
“Hello? Are you in there?” Tilly was waving her hand in front of your face, shaking you back into the present and making you realise you'd been staring into the distance, vegetables long forgotten in front of you. “What were you thinking about?” she asked, moving to sit beside you again, she was sewing Karen's dress which had a fresh tear in.
“Obviously it was something saucy, she's gone all red!” Mary-Beth laughed, throwing a cloth at you. You knew she loved the romance books, her nose always buried in one, driving Miss Grimshaw mad and making the rest of camp laugh. Shaking your head dismissively at Mary-Beth, you laughed their comments off, repressing the memory in favour of chopping tonight's stew vegetables.
The remainder of the afternoon passed without interest, the rain stopped as the evening drew in, allowing you to leave the wagon and walk around camp to stretch your legs. You'd walked to the edge of camp, sitting on a damp branch to look out over the lake when you heard footsteps behind you. Knowing you were outside camp now, you hand found the knife in your boot, wrapping your fingers around the familiar handle as the footsteps neared. Heart pounding, you spun around to point the knife at the oncoming stranger.
“Well, that's one way to greet me,” Dutch chuckled lightly, grabbing your hand and redirecting the knife away from his face as he walked to sit beside you on the log. You tucked the blade back into your boot, shuffling so he could sit comfortably, slightly embarrassed at your reaction to him approaching.
“You know someone could see us,” you objected, although you wished nothing more than for the pair of you to sit together for a little longer.
“Nobody dares to follow me out of camp aside from Hosea, and he's drinking again,” Dutch smiled a little as he said this, placing his hand on your knee, making your heart leap to your throat. Glancing behind you, you leaned so your head was on his shoulder, you felt him pressing a kiss onto the top of your head as you sighed in bliss, this was where you were happy.
You sat there for a while, enjoying listening to his breathing, and how his hands moved over your knee; both of you looking out over Flat Iron Lake, seeing birds on the island fight over some food, and, occasionally, a silver glimpse of a fish in the water. It was relaxing, and it took your mind off the worries of camp, or of the next job the man beside you was plotting.
This tranquillity didn't last long, however, and Dutch's hand kept riding higher and higher up your thigh, making your mind race into all manner of possible situations. Before you could say anything to him, he'd turned to look expectantly at you, indicating his lap. Happily, you straddled his lap, all previous inhibitions disregarded in anticipation to feel his lips on yours again. Even though he'd kissed you last night, you felt as though he was a drug you couldn't yet quit. And you didn't have to wait long, as he crashed his lips onto yours without hesitation.
Compared to the romantic, gentle kisses you'd exchanged last night, these were harsh and full of need from both of you - you'd been hiding this relationship since Blackwater. Quickly, the kisses moved from your lips to your jaw, to your neck. Then the kisses turned into gentle bites and licks, sure to leave their mark on tomorrow's skin. His hands found your thighs again, like last night, ensuring you couldn't move away from him as he continued his loving attack on your neck.
“We can't do this here,” you said, realising where this was headed and twisting away so you could look at him. “Someone could come and see us,” He nodded, placing a quick kiss upon your lips; while neither of you were happy with this decision, you moved from his lap, his hands still touching any part of you he could as you sat back down next to him.
“Come see me again tonight,” he said quietly, taking in his handiwork over your neck.
“I'll be late, I think Karen suspects something, she asked where I was last night,”
“I don't mind,” Dutch murmured, pressing a final kiss onto your cheek before he stood up, offering you a hand up as well. “I'll see you later my dear,” You smiled a little at his last statement, watching him disappear back through the trees to camp while you stood, thinking about him.
You pulled your coat up in order to hide the bruises forming on your neck, deciding to change as soon as you reached camp into something high-necked, praying nobody would speak to you as you did.
Fortunately, your prayers were answered, most of the camp was gathered around the campfire, making it easy for you to go to the wagon and change. Although as you snuck through camp, you could swear you had the attention of a Mr Van Der Linde who was very much enjoying your reaction. You could feel his smirk from across camp as you reemerged from changing, knowing he'd make a sarcastic remark about it tonight, before adding to the collection on your neck.
The night progressed, and you sat with the other girls, laughing over Sean's drunken singing and Uncle threatening to flash him if he doesn't shut up. You'd managed to drink a few beers, and everything was tinted with the blissfulness of feeling tipsy, somehow the awful jokes Bill told were funnier, and Lenny's dancing seemed almost professional. It wasn't until Miss Grimshaw came and told you all off for being up late did you go to bed, giggling over something trivial with Mary-Beth.
You removed the extra layers you'd been wearing, the darkness covering the bruises on your neck as you all settled onto the roll mats; praying the rain did not return overnight, the damp ground could be felt through your mat, but you were consoled by the fact you'd be nestled in Dutch's bed soon enough.
Fortunately, alcohol let the others get to sleep fast, Karen was soon snoring loudly, and you wiggled into a sitting position, so you could pull your coat around you and sneak to his tent. Javier and Micah were still sitting by the fire, so you made an effort to remain in the shadows, knowing if they realised where you were going you'd be subjected to endless teasing.
“Psst-” you hissed, fiddling fruitlessly with the catch on Dutch's tent, until you felt his fingers over yours, undoing it with ease and letting you into the warmth. The small wood burner was blazing, and some of his wet clothes were hung up to dry in front of it. You were endlessly jealous of this, your dresses had to dry at the whim of nature, praying it would remain sunny enough for them to dry before another rainfall. Dutch noticed you shiver a little at the temperature change, indicating for you to sit by the fire until you were warmer.
“Are you alright my dear?” he settled down beside you, wrapping you in his warm arms, sitting behind you on the pallet floor.
“I'm alright, just tired of the rain,”
He opened the book carefully in front of you, looking over your shoulder to read, his large hands engulfing the small book, rings shining in the light from the fire as he started to read.
“Me too,” Dutch replied, and after a little deliberation, he shifted from you, picking up something you couldn't see before moving back to wrap his arms around your waist.
“Can I read to you?” you nodded, noticing the book he had clasped in his hands, a well-worn copy you'd seen him read regularly, always seeming to be completely absorbed in it. You could feel him smile, knowing he loved nothing more than to speak about what he was reading with anyone who stood still long enough.
“The human race has travelled a long way, since those remote ages when men fashioned their rude implements…” you were only half listening to him, watching how the flames licked up the logs on the fire and revelled in the comfort of his arms. If you could sit here, blissfully warm in the arms of this man you could die in peace.
“…of flint and lived on the precarious spoils of hunting, leaving to their children for their only heritage…” Leaning your head, you rested it on his chest, letting it rise and fall in time with his breathing.
“…a shelter beneath the rocks, some poor utensils—and Nature, vast, unknown, and terrific, with whom they had to fight for their wretched existence.” Dutch paused for a moment, glancing down at you now, curled up with your head on his chest. As much as you were enjoying listening to him read, you were exhausted, wanting nothing more than to curl up and fall asleep here.
“Come on my dear,” Carefully, Dutch moved from behind you, scooping you up and transferring you from the warm spot on the fire to the comparatively soft bed. His hands carefully pulled you dress you'd neglected to remove earlier, his movements soft, as though you could be broken if he pulled too hard. You laughed a little as he fumbled with one of the clasps on your boot, and you leant down to undo it with ease, making him huff a little.
Once you were rid of your outerwear, you lay down, pulling some of the furs over you as you watched Dutch remove the many layers of shirts and expensive vests in exchange for a red union shirt. While he was undressing, he would carefully hang his clothes on a singular hanger, ensuring they would not get a crease in. Anything he could not hang, such as his treasured pocket watch and pipe, would sit on one of the crates beside the bed.
Dutch crawled under the covers with you, pulling you close so he could nestle his face in the crook of your neck, your back pressed to his chest. His breaths ghosted over the kisses he'd placed earlier, you could feel his eyelashes fluttering on your neck, sending shivers down your back. You shuffled to get comfortable, finding your eyes were beginning to drift shut. Quietly, behind you, Dutch's breathing was deeper, occasionally letting out a quiet snore as you drifted to sleep.
Morning light pierced its way into the tent, and you found yourself being shaken awake by Dutch. Not wanting to get up, you buried your face further into the bed, knowing you had to leave soon or you'd be caught out. Camp was stirring, Pearson could be heard tending to the fire and clanking bowls together for some breakfast; soon enough the other girls would be up, and then you'd have no reason for your absence.
“Come on dear,” Dutch was handing you clothes which you pulled on haphazardly, not caring if you looked presentable in them. He did your boots up as you pulled on your thick coat, you could say you'd been on a walk. As he stood up, he placed a kiss on your lips, pulling you to him before holding the opening to the tent, allowing you to leave. Quickly, you snuck out the tent, hurrying to the wagon, praying the others had not woken up yet and you could sneak into bed unnoticed - usually you wouldn't have stayed so long with Dutch, leaving in the early hours of the morning instead of at breakfast time.
Your prayers were not answered however, Karen was sat, propped against the wheel of the wagon, plaiting some grass. The other girls were still fast asleep, but you knew you'd have to lie to her. As you approached, she looked up, cocking an eyebrow at your dishevelled appearance and overnight disappearance.
“I went for a walk?” you whispered, careful not to wake anyone as you neared Karen, but she shook her head, before indicating you to follow her to the water's edge. You didn't have much choice in the matter, so you followed, thanking god that the ground was dry enough to walk on now.
“Where were you, if someone found out- they think there's a rat already-” Karen hissed, as you both looked out over the lake, glad for your warm coat as the cool morning breeze swept off the lake.
“Do you want my coat?” you offered, pulling it off your shoulders and handing it to her, which she accepted, pulling it around her. You stood there in silence for a little while, you could tell Karen was thinking, trying to put the pieces together. Before either of you could speak, you heard Micah yelling behind you,
“I just went for a walk, as I said,”
“I heard you leave last night, that's one long walk,” you threw her a glare at this, she'd caught you out, you didn't have an excuse for this. Karen looked pleased with herself, although she was shivering with cold - she was still wearing just a thin slip dress.
“Come on! Breakfast ain't gonna make itself is it ladies?” you could hear his footsteps approaching, ready to say something about Karen or you again. Both of you turned at the same time, watching as he sauntered down towards you; however, his approach was halted when he caught a glimpse of you. Not knowing what he was looking at, you checked your hair and dress, sure you didn't look amazing, but you weren't flashing anyone.
“Well, what have we here?” Micah ignored his favourite target, Karen, in favour of approaching you, almost standing on your toes he was so close. You could smell the stench of last night's alcohol on his breath, and his moustache had the remnants of last night's stew on it still, something you'd never wished to discover. His fingers ghosted over your neck before you realized what had caught his interest; the dress you were wearing was low cut, exposing the purpling bruises over your neck from yesterday.
“Who gave you these sweetheart?” he asked, his voice dripping in false sweetness, his hands roaming from the edge of your neck to the top of your dress. “Didn't realise you were quite this much of a whore?” you whispered this last word, his spit hitting the side of your face. Your heart was pounding, wanting nothing more than to smack the smirk off his face, but knowing if you did so he was stronger than you were.
Over his shoulder, Karen was averting her eyes, glad not to be the target of his merciless comments. By now, Micah was hissing about how much you charged in your ear, and you took a step back from him, feeling the water flood into your boots in an attempt to get away from him.
“Mister Bell,” a very familiar voice called loudly across camp, shocking the both of you and making him step back from you rapidly. Dutch was standing at the opening of his tent, his face dark with thunder at Micah, anger etched in every line. This was the first time you'd seen Micah listen to something someone said, as he backed away from you, not without a parting comment,
“Well, I guess we know who the lucky guy is then?” You swore under your breath at him, pulling at your dress as he walked away, towards Dutch's tent. Breathing deeply, your heart rate slowed, now that Micah was far from you and you could move from the water, feeling your boots squelch with each step they made. After Dutch's yelling, the whole camp was up, most of them unequivocally staring at you on the shoreline. You could feel your face heating up, knowing they could all see the bruises as well.
Karen offered your coat back to you, and you pulled it on, hiding your neck from inquisitive eyes as you both returned to the main camp. As you passed people, there were hushed whispers, rumours about where the bruises came from. Your face was hot, so you hid behind the wagon, changing into a high necked dress and attempting to silence the tears of shame that ran down your face.
A/N: This is the longest single chapter I’ve written (it’s not much at 3.3k, but I like shorter ones?), and this took a while. Also sorry about the Micah slander at the end, I’m writing a Micah fluff in some sort of redemption for that XD.
(ik I did not tag this as fem!reader at the start - it's been changed!)
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