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#so like I said I have a wedding but like… I don’t know what time or which location (or even city)… my friend let me know about the wedding
sharlsworld · 1 day
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a digital love letter - ʟɴ4 ☆
✿ lando norris x influencer!reader
✿ a glimpse of all the post’s from when they were “just friends”, to there engagement announcement, to the announcement of there first child.
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june 1st, 2020
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liked by alex_albon and 83,924 others
lando.jpg when i asked y/n if she wanted to quarantine with me i didn’t think it would be this long…
yn if you ask me to make one more batch of cloud bread i will lock you outside
⤷ lando.jpg well that’s awfully rude considering i offered you my home
⤷ yn you literally begged me to quarantine with you???
⤷ lando.jpg no need for the details
maxfewtrell couple goals
⤷ lando.jpg fuck off
hearts4lando “just friends” ok buddy 😭
beloved.hamilton just a COUPLE of friends!😄
charles_leclerc i think this quarantine has got your mind all mixed up cause…
lilac.leclerc there so oblivious 😭
f1wags i smell…a incoming wag 👀
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august 10th, 2020
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liked by georgerussell63 and 984,118 others
lando.jpg took my girl to dinner and let her go shopping for her birthday…never again. she really knows how to spend money
carlossainz55 “my girl” ???
⤷ lando.jpg is she not my girl? she never leaves me alone
⤷ yn you give off this tough guy act like you don’t ask me to hangout every day
⤷ lando.jpg once again, no need for all the details jeez women
landolovesyn it’s the fact she literally makes so much money but he still wants to pay for her stuff really tugs on my heart strings 😪
sharls_lerklerk PAINFULLY OBLIVIOUS
pierregasly cmon mate
⤷ lando.jpg what?
landolovesyn Heather 🤩
———
january 1st, 2021
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liked by charles_leclerc and 1,746,023 others
lando.jpg happy new year bitches 🥳
yn been waitin for this one
⤷ georgerussell63 We all have
⤷ alex_albon seriously everyone
⤷ carlossainz55 Seriously
danielricciardo Took you guys long enough
⤷ yn 1 year is a reasonable amount of time
maxfewtrell NO PHOTO CREDIT?
⤷ lando.jpg no
lilymhe sooo when’s the wedding?
⤷ alex_albon watch they’ll probably get engaged this year
♥︎ by author
ynissocutiepatootie IT FINALLY HAPPENED
lovely_leclerc stop he took her to see the lights 😢
daddyricciardo i wonder how long they’ve been dating before deciding to go public
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april 14th, 2021
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liked by yukitsunoda05211 and 824,722 others
lando.jpg i was feeling a little down today, but you DEFINITELY turned me on
yn can i help loosen your belt? it looks really tight 😉
⤷ lando.jpg you’ll never catch me saying no to that baby 😏
charles_leclerc Oh come on there’s children on this app lando
carlossainz55 I just opened the app mate
maxverstappen1 Well enough instagram for the day
georgerussell63 I could’ve lived the rest of my life without seeing this
⤷ lando.jpg don’t be hating
estiebestie lando is just a horny teenage boy honestly
♥︎ by yn
landowantsrizz i feel like i’m interrupting something…
hoeforsianzzz so there definitely getting down every night
♥︎ by author & yn
⤷ lilac.leclerc HELLO??? THESE BITCHES MUST BE GETTING DOWN LIKE BUNNIES
———
october 22nd, 2021
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liked by lewishamilton and 7,824,023 others
lando.jpg i couldn’t wait any longer
yn so impatient
⤷ lando.jpg i just couldn’t wait to call you my wife
⤷ yn good thing i said yes then
carlossainz55 Congratulations mate! 🎉🥂
♥︎ by author
lewishamilton Congrats man that’s amazing ♥️
♥︎ by author
maxverstappen1 Congrats bro ♥️
♥︎ by author
lilymhe the gold band 😨
⤷ yn ikr i was flabbergasted
♥︎ by author
charles_leclerc Congrats lando! ❤️
♥︎ by author
danielricciardo Let’s go boys 🥳
♥︎ by author
oscarpiastri Congratulations mate, i’m so happy for you 🧡
⤷ lando.jpg 🧡
maxfewtrell little lando norris finally grew some balls
⤷ lando.jpg i can never win 💔
mclaren To forever! 🧡
♥︎ by author
alex_albon i called it
♥︎ by author
landolovesyn the fact this has 7 million likes and he doesn’t have 7 million followers on this account 😭
lando.norizz THE GOLD BAND? LANDO NORRIS YOU’VE OUTDONE YOURSELF
sharls_lerklerk been here since the video of her accidentally dropping her hydroflask on his foot at one of the races in 2019😭
⤷ lando.jpg i still have the tiny scar on my little toe
———
january 1st, 2022
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liked by oscarpiastri and 792,614 others
lando.jpg happy new year bitches 👀
yn happy new year whore
⤷ carlossainz55 and to think you two are getting married soon…
charles_leclerc Oh thanks mate
⤷ lando.jpg i wasn’t talking to you
⤷ charles_leclerc Alrighty…
georgerussell63 This was such a elegant, mature post, until i saw the caption
⤷ lando.jpg you shouldn’t be surprised
landolovesyn literally all of his posts are about y/n
⤷ hearts4lando basically a fan page
estiebestie i’ll never get tired of seeing lando’s posts for y/n
carlando there relationship is so perfect
lilymhe don’t think just because you two are getting married that she’s yours
⤷ lando.jpg take the L 🤣
———
october 22nd, 2022
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liked by lewishamilton and 28,942,861 others
lando.jpg My greatest love, you are my one and only. From the day you dropped your hydroflask on my foot and laughed until you were crying I knew you were gonna be mine one day, I can’t think of anyone better to spend eternity with. In every universe, I will find you. When death takes my hand, I will hold you with the other, and promise to find you in every lifetime. I love you for everything you are, everything you have been, and everything you will be. You are my destiny, I love you endlessly. ♥️
yn ok…i’m literally sobbing right now i love you so much lando
⤷ lando.jpg i love you the most
danielricciardo Turned on auto caps for this one congrats man i’m so happy of you ♥️
♥︎ by author
lewishamilton I wish you two a lifetime of happiness and health ♥️
♥︎ by author
carlossainz55 To a lifetime of bullying each other! ♥️
♥︎ by author
charles_leclerc Little lando norris isn’t so little anymore? 😂 Congratulations man ♥️
♥︎ by author
mclaren Congratulations lando & y/n! 🧡
♥︎ by author & yn
landolovesyn y/n norris 🥹
lando.norizz crying in the club
lilymhe she was mine first.
⤷ lando.jpg not even
lilymhe congratulations, i guess ♥️
♥︎ by author
alex_albon Congratulations lando ♥️
♥︎ by author
georgerussell63 Can’t believe how far you’ve came mate! Congratulations ♥️
♥︎ by author
francisca.cgomes such a beautiful wedding…should’ve been me and y/n’s but still! ♥️
♥︎ by author
carmenmmundt Congratulations ♥️
♥︎ by author
———
february 29th, 2024
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liked by maxverstappen1 and 10,523,792 others
lando.jpg Mathéo Lee Norris. 2.10.23 ♥️
comments for this post have been limited
yn my boy 🤍 i love you lan
⤷ lando.jpg i love you the most baby
lilymhe cutest baby boy 💙
♥︎ by author & yn
charles_leclerc I bet he misses his favorite uncle already
⤷ carlossainz55 excuse me?
⤷ charles_leclerc your excused
⤷ maxfewtrell cmon guys, obviously i’m the favorite uncle
⤷ charles_leclerc no
alexandrasaintmleux cutie boy 💙
♥︎ by author & yn
carmenmmundt Mathéo is the cutest 🥰
♥︎ by author & yn
lewishamilton A gift from God ♥️
♥︎ by author & yn
alex_albon bro has more hair then me
♥︎ by author & yn
———
march 26th, 2024
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liked by carlossainz55 and 19,982,713 others
lando.jpg a digital love letter for you, the light of my life. my life long treasure of destiny. you are the greatest gift God has blessed me with. i love you endlessly ♥️
comments for this post have been limited
yn you sweet talker, i love you lan 🤍
⤷ lando.jpg i love you the most baby 🤍
landolovesyn guys…this might be heather
♥︎ by author
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a/n: remember that poll you guys voted in on what fic i should work on? this is the fic that one 😂 i’ve been wanting to write this one for a minute and had so much fun doing it!! i love the soft vibes and i hope you guys do too 🥰 lots of fun stuff coming up 🤍
word count: 4.9k
tw: a little dirty talk, a little horny making out, nothing crazy
summary: sunrise on the beach with mat becomes your favorite memory
Sleep fades away slowly, a warm hand working its way gently into your hair, fingertips rubbing against your scalp. You hum and press your face into the pillow bunched up under your head.
A familiar chuckle pierces the veil of sleep, fingers continuing their gentle rub. “Hey, come on Sleeping Beauty,” Mat’s voice is low and amused in your ear. “Time for that sunrise.”
You whine and roll over, sleep still clinging stubbornly to your brain. In your hazy half-awake state, you remember that you’d told Mat you wanted to see the sunrise on the beach, but you honestly didn’t think he’d be able to manage to get up this early. “Time’s it?” you mumble around a yawn, eyes still shut and hand groping for Mat’s. He laces his fingers with yours, taking pity on your floundering hand. He rubs his thumb over your knuckles, his palm dry and warm in your own.
“Four ten,” he says, laughing at the outraged noise you make. “Babe, sunrise is at 5:20, had to get you up early.”
One eye cracks open and Mat comes into view, sitting on the edge of the mattress, hair looking a little crazy. He’s got a soft smile on his face even as his lips are tilted up with amusement. “This is cruel and unusual,” you mumble, stretching your legs out under the pile of blankets. Your calf cramps slightly and you flex your foot to relieve the twinge.
Mat’s fingers twitch in yours and he shrugs a little. “You said you wanted to see the sunrise,” he reminds you, tugging at your hand and pulling you into a sitting position. “Not too many more days left on the Island for that to happen.”
He’s not wrong - after the six-game playoff loss to the Canes, you’d hung around the Island so you could spend your birthday with your friends, but you’re leaving in a couple of days to visit Mat’s family before the Bear wedding and then hopping over to Europe for a couple of weeks of vacation. The summer is jam-packed full of fun plans that you’re looking forward to.
“I hate that you’re right,” you sigh, more awake now. Mat leans in and kisses you quickly. He jumps up before you can really kiss him back, making your forehead crease in confusion.
“I’m always right,” he teases, rummaging through your drawers to find you some clothes. You stretch your arms over your head, t-shirt riding up and exposing your stomach to the cool air of your bedroom. You shiver a bit, that full-body shake that’s the result of a really good stretch.
With a scoff, you swing your legs out of bed and mutter, “you weren’t right when you missed the exit and drove us into Staten Island last week, making us very late for dinner.”
Mat blows a raspberry at you. “I thought we weren’t going to bring that up again?” He whines, pouting like a toddler.
You shoot him a cheeky grin over your shoulder and pad to the bathroom to clean up. “I’m bringing that up until the end of time, Mr. I Don’t Need Directions Babe I Know Where I’m Going,” you laugh to yourself before knocking the door shut with your foot so you can have a minute of privacy.
Mat’s got the bedside lamps on when you leave the bathroom, casting your bedroom in soft light that doesn’t hurt your tired eyes. You smile gratefully and flop back down on the bed. “Are you sure we have to do this?” You yawn again. “What about staying in bed and fucking like bunnies? That could be fun.”
Your boyfriend laughs and comes to straddle your legs, knees on the outside of your own, leaning down over you to press a kiss to your forehead. “I think we can do that later,” he mutters against your skin. “Come on, it’ll be fun. Get dressed.”
Looking at him, you notice for the first time that Mat’s already dressed in a navy quarter zip and jeans and you wonder exactly how early he got up. It doesn’t really matter at the end of the day and you change into a comfortably oversized royal blue cashmere sweater and a pair of leggings, ignoring the jeans Mat had pulled out of your drawer. He’s staring blatantly at you as you dress, grinning when he notices that you don’t bother with a bra. You wink at him, teasing, “I know that backseat of yours is very spacious.”
Mat’s laugh is contagious and you giggle along with him. “Babe, I’ll let you do whatever you want in the backseat of my car,” he waggles his eyebrows at you, catching your foot when you kick it up at him to put on your socks. He tickles the arch of your foot gently as he pulls a pair of his own thick Nike socks on your feet and lets them bunch up over your leggings.
You wiggle your toes in the warm socks, squirming when Mat captures your ankle and tugs gently to drag you down the bed. “Whatever I want?” You ask on a breathless giggle, letting him pull you to your feet and crash against his chest.
“Anything but eating Goldfish back there,” Mat shakes his head at you, both of you remembering the time you’d been babysitting the Martin girls and Winnie had asked for her snack sized bag of Goldfish to be squished into crumbs since they “taste better” that way and then had dumped the entire bag out on your lap when she was trying to share.
“That was an accident!” You protest, distracted by Mat’s warm hands snaking under the hem of your sweater and dancing over the soft skin of your lower back. “She was sharing. We’re supposed to be encouraging sharing, Mat!”
Mat snorts. “Only because you asked for a Goldfish,” he kisses your cheek, “now come on. We’re going to miss the sunrise.” He taps against your lower back and you wiggle against him.
You’re awake now, but you still try and convince him to get back in bed, “sure you don’t want to just undress me under the covers instead?”
“Later,” Mat promises, tugging at the waistband of your leggings and spurring you into following him down the stairs. You snag your phone off its charging pad on the way out and nearly fumble the tube of Summer Fridays lip balm when you lunge back at the last second for it too.
Downstairs, Mat grabs his keys out of the little bowl on the hall table and you shove your feet into a battered pair of Ugg Tasmans, going for maximum comfort. Mat pulls on a pair of Nikes and you follow him out the door, sighing when you see how dark it still is.
“Can I guarantee at least two orgasms for myself?” You ask, climbing into the passenger seat of Mat’s Defender. “It’s criminally early.”
You look over your shoulder and see that Mat’s already pushed down the second row of seats and the car is full of pillows and blankets to nest in while you watch the sunrise. A delighted smile curls your lips and Mat laughs at you when he gets behind the wheel.
“You literally begged me to take you to see the sunrise,” he reminds you, starting the car and pulling out of the driveway. He plays with the radio, finding your preset Taylor Swift Sirius station and you smile happily, kicking off your Uggs and pulling your feet up onto the seat.
“I forget it’s so early in the summer,” you laugh lightly, humming along to ‘Paper Rings.’ You reach your arm out and rest your hand on the nape of Mat’s neck, scratching your nails lightly into his hair, letting the silky strands curl around your fingers. He hasn’t cut it yet and you begged him to let it grow a little longer during the summer, just until Ethan’s wedding in July. Luckily for you, Mat agreed, mostly because he loves when you tangle your fingers in his hair and pull when he’s going down on you. Now, Mat’s shoulders drop and you can feel his body relax under your touch. “Where are we going, by the way?”
“Robert Moses,” Mat replies, merging onto the Meadowbrook. Despite the early hour, a car nearly sideswipes you as you merge in and Mat lays on the horn, shouting through the closed window. You wince, fingers freezing in place on Mat’s neck.
“I hate the Meadowbrook,” you mutter. “Meanwhile, where was he going? It’s literally five in the morning.”
“It’s also Monday,” Mat reminds you, grinning when you resume scratching at his scalp. “People are going to work.”
You hum a little laugh, “right, the employed, upstanding citizens making the rest of us bums look bad.” The parkway opens up now though, the road clear in front of you and you zone out a bit while staring at the sky as it lightens. The music changes and you mumble-sing along, tapping your socked foot against the leather seat. Mat’s fingers alternate between tapping against the steering wheel and clenching it so hard his knuckles go white. You turn your head to look at him, studying the line of his jaw and the stubble that he’s letting grow in for a few days before he’ll decide to shave again. His hair curls around his ears and you run your fingers through it, brushing your fingertips over the hinge of his jaw.
His lips tilt up in a smile even as his eyes stay on the road. “Enjoying the view?” He teases and you giggle.
“Yeah, actually I am,” you murmur. “Call it sleep deprivation, but I can’t stop staring at you right now.” You angle your body towards Mat’s, still studying his face. “I love you,” you say on a little sigh, never tired of the way his ears go a little pink when you say those three words.
“Fuck yeah, same,” he replies, smirking a bit before laughing at the inside joke. You wrinkle your nose at him, thinking about that first confession - both of you drunk out of your minds, Mat holding you up while you danced on the beach, half of his teammates partying around you in the late July warmth. Influenced by High Noons and beers mixed with too much tequila, your hangover the next day had only been worsened when you remembered the way you slurred the three words into his ear and his response, three different words. But tangled together on the oversized couch in Matt and Sydney’s Hamptons home, with the sunlight nearly blinding you and the sounds of the waves breaking, Mat had pulled you close to his chest and buried his face in your hair and mumbled, “for the record, I love you too.”
From there it had been a wild year, so much fun and excitement, mingled with the heartbreak of missing the playoffs and the month-long break you’d taken after a blowup fight.
Before you can linger too much on the past, Mat pulls off the Meadowbrook and navigates the traffic circle to merge onto Ocean Parkway. You roll down the window to get the ocean breeze into the car, inhaling deeply. “God, I love the smell of the ocean,” you sigh, wiggling happily in your seat. “I miss the days they would prescribe going to the shore for your health.”
Mat’s laugh fills the car, “you already spend more time at the beach than any other person I know! Who takes four mile walks on the sand in the middle of January?”
“I’m a summer baby, Mathew,” you sniff haughtily, tugging gently on the piece of hair twirled around your fingers. “I need my designated beach time to thrive.”
“You’re crazy, that’s what you are,” Mat says, but his tone is laced with affection. “Hopefully this morning fills the quota for when we’re up in Vancouver.”
“We’ll see,” you laugh, the car bouncing slightly as Mat takes the turn off the road and navigates the Defender into the sand. The sky is lightening slowly and you’re still ten minutes away from actual sunrise, so it’s perfect timing. He situates the car so the front is facing west and turns it off, turning to grin at you.
“Ready for a show?” He asks, tossing the keys into the cup holder and reaching up to lace his fingers with yours.
You nod, wide awake now and excited to cross something off your summer bucket list. “Let’s get cozy,” you lean over the console and press your lips to his in a quick kiss before shifting onto your knees and climbing over the console into the back of the car, head first and nearly kicking Mat in the head with a stray foot. He’s laughing behind you, tugging at your ankles.
“Wouldn’t it have been easier to get out of the car?” He’s opening his door, half out onto the sand as he talks.
You’re perched happily in the pile of blankets when May pulls open the hatch, exposing the full view of the beach and eastern horizon. He’s backlit by the rising sun and you reach for him, wiggling your fingers to encourage him to climb into the expanded backseat with you. “My way was more fun,” you chirp when he climbs in, kicking his sneakers off and leaving them in the sand.
“Crazy,” he mutters, scooting you to the side so he can wedge in behind you. His elbow bangs against something and makes a sort of thunking noise.
“What’s that?” You settle in between Mat’s legs, resting your back against his chest.
He leans a little to the side and tugs at one of the blankets, exposing the Yeti cooler that usually lives in your garage while it waits for summertime. “Breakfast,” he says and you can hear the smile in his voice.
“Ohhh,” you grin, angling your head back so you can see Mat’s face, “you’re really gunning for boyfriend of the year, huh?”
“How’re my odds looking?” Mat flips open the lid of the cooler and pulls out a snack sized bottle of Tropicana, holding the bottle in front of you while he cracks the top. You take it from him with a quiet, ‘thanks’ and sip at it. His thighs are firm against the outside of yours, warmth radiating off his body.
“Holding onto a solid second place,” you tease, knocking your knee against his.
Mat cracks open his own bottle of orange juice and knocks back half off it before replying, “second? Jesus, what’s my competition like?”
You shift a little, angling so your shoulder is slightly pressed against his chest and Mat’s left arm is draped over your shoulder, one big hand inching closer to cupping your breast. “Well,” you hum, tapping the lid of your orange juice against your lower lip, “Andrew Price did save the last cherry BlowPop for me back in first grade. I thought that was very gentlemanly.”
“You’re a menace,” Mat grumbles against the top of your head, flicking at the side of your breast with his index finger. You jolt and giggle, bringing your hand up to play with his fingers.
“Yeah, and?” Mat’s foot hooks over yours and you lean to the side, resting your elbow against one of the pillows piled around your bodies. “You planned all this, so you must love me.”
“Against my better judgement,” Mat teases. You look up at him again, pouting and wrinkling your nose, making him smile and lean down to plant a quick kiss on your pout. Humming happily, you rest your cheek against his arm and go quiet, watching the sun slowly rise over the horizon, coloring the sky in gorgeous pastels. Mat’s chin rests on the top of your head and his other arm comes around to wrap around your stomach, keeping you held tightly against his chest.
The waves crash against the sand and you zone out a little watching them, breathing in the ocean air and feeling your entire body relax. Your stomach grumbles quietly, a little vibration that you hope Mat can’t hear. He chuckles and you roll your eyes. “You can move up the boyfriend rankings if you’ve got a cherry BlowPop in that cooler,” you murmur.
Mat shifts behind you, unwrapping his arm from a round your stomach and leaning to the side, taking your body with him. “Even better,” he says, the crinkling of a bag echoing in the small space. You look over just as he withdraws the cream and gold pastry bag from one of your favorite bakeries. “Almond croissant from French Workshop,” he continues, displaying the bag in front of your face with a flourish.
“Ooh!” You perk up, leaning forward to pluck the bag from Mat’s hand. You can smell the buttery pastry and your stomach grumbles again. “Okay, you’re officially in the number one boyfriend spot. I don’t think there’s anything better than almond croissants at sunrise on the beach.”
Mat pulls a second bag from the cooler and you sniff out the scent of Nutella, which only widens your grin. Mat doesn’t have too much of a sweet tooth, except when it comes to Nutella. You’re constantly buying the little snack packs for him to get a quick energy hit.
“Nothing at all?” Mat teases you while you shift in his lap, turning so your back is resting against the side of the car and your legs are draped over his thigh. He takes a bite of his croissant, flaky crumbs landing on your leggings before he brushes them off with a casual hand.
Around a bite of your own treat, you hum. “Nothing I can think of,” you retort cheekily after swallowing.
You shriek and wriggle around when Mat’s fingers tickle your side, your stomach hurting as you laugh loudly and wildly. Mat’s body is on top of yours, nearly flat against the floor of the trunk, croissant crumbs all around you. “Mat, no! Stooop,” you whine, laughing and trying to fight off the onslaught.
“Take it back,” he laughs, peppering your cheeks and neck with kisses. “Say I’m better than breakfast pastries.” He nips at the edge of your jaw.
You hook your legs around Mat’s waist and bump your hips up against his, trying to distract him but all it does is make you hotter for him, heat flushing up your chest. Mat grins against your neck, fingers slowing a little, but still pressing into all the spots that he knows are vulnerable.
“Mercy,” you choke out on a laugh, tugging at Mat’s hair, breathless.
He presses a final kiss to the pulse point on your neck and then his fingers are smoothing over your skin, fingertips gentle as they draw goosebumps in their wake. “I’m taking that as a win,” he informs you, leaning on his forearm so his full weight isn’t on top of you.
You lean up and capture his lower lip between your teeth, biting down a little sharply and tugging. Mat groans into your mouth and you shiver, the noise vibrating down your spine. “Only,” you pull away, your back resting on the floor of the trunk again, “because you play with dirty tactics.”
“Gotta take the wins where I can get them, Squeaks,” he laughs, rolling back onto his side and then sitting up, taking you with him so you’re straddling his lap, the top of your head grazing the roof of the car. You lean down and graze your lips over Mat’s, grinding down a little on his half-hard cock. He grunts in the back of his throat, gripping your hips to keep you in place.
“I’m missing the sunrise,” you chirp, pecking him quickly before wiggling off his lap and settling against his chest again. “You distracted me, back down to number two boyfriend.”
By now, the sun is mostly over the horizon, the sky bright and promising a gorgeous weather day ahead. You pull your legs up to your chest, wrapping an arm around your knees, while you watch the sky change colors. It’s so peaceful and your shoulders relax, the stress of the last few weeks of the regular season and the first round of playoffs dissipating. You’re looking forward to the summer, to getting to spend some real time with Mat. He shifts behind you - you sway to the side a little when he reaches for the cooler again and then back when he adjusts his position, his legs bending at the knee to bracket your body. A breeze off the ocean makes you shiver and press harder against Mat’s body, the hard ridge of his collarbone pressing against the back of your head.
He hums in your ear, breath kissing your cheek when he murmurs, “number two boyfriend, but how about number one fiancé?”
You blink, your brain processing the words, and he reaching around your body to rest his hand on your knee, a black velvet box held loosely in his fingers. You stare at the little box, barely comprehending what’s happening. Mat’s thumb taps carefully against the seam between the two halves of the box, his thumbnail wedged into the spot so he can flick it open at any second.
“What?” The syllable is barely a breath, your heart pounding in your chest. You can feel his cheeks rise with a smile against your temple. “Mat…” your voice is shaky, nervous excitement making your tone higher pitched than usual.
He taps the box against your knee and you immediately move, turning so you’re facing Mat, kneeling in between his legs. He’s got your favorite crooked smile on his face and when his features go a little blurry, you realize you’ve got tears in your eyes.
When he starts talking, Mat’s voice is a little wobbly too. He clears his throat twice before he manages to say, “you know I, uh, usually have a lot to say.”
A laugh slips out of your mouth and you cover your lips with a trembling hand. He grins at you even wider, showing off all his teeth.
“But,” he continues, fingers fidgeting with the box, “I thought about what I wanted to say, what I wanted to tell you, and I… couldn’t think of anything.”
Your heart pounds behind your ribs, tears falling freely down your cheeks.
“There was just too much I wanted to tell you,” he says, leaning up on his knees so you’re both kneeling in the trunk of the car. His hair rubs against the roof of the car and gets a little staticky, sticking up in all directions. “Every single time I tried to come up with a speech, all I could get down was how much I fucking love you. Every single day that you’ve been in my life, you’ve made it better. Even on my worst days, you’re the bright spot.”
“Mat,” you gasp his name softly, mouth still covered by your hands. “Oh my god!”
“I want to have a million more days with you,” he says softly, leaning forward and popping the lid open on the ring box. You were so focused on what he was saying, you barely realized that he hadn’t even shown you the ring. It’s gorgeous, a big oval diamond sparkling in the early morning light filtering in through the windows and open trunk. No smaller diamonds surrounding it on the band so the focus is just on how perfect the diamond is. You cry harder because it’s perfect, simple and stunning and everything that you’ve ever wanted in an engagement ring.
Mat cups your cheek with his free hand and you look up at him, nodding and laughing and babbling an answer to a question he technically hasn’t even asked yet.
Off of his own laughter, because he realizes that you’re giving him the answer he was expecting, Mat asks, “will you marry me? Give me all the best days and -“
He’s cut off when you shout a ‘yes!’ and throw yourself against his chest, arms around his neck and mouth covering his in fervent, excited kisses. In between peppering his face in kisses, you keep repeating “yes, yes, oh my god! Mat! I love you so much.”
Mat’s arms are tight around your back, keeping you held close to his chest, and he laughs against your mouth, entire face scrunched up with happiness while you kiss him. “Want your ring?” He mumbles the question, words muffled by your mouth on his.
You lean back in his arms, eyes wide and still glassy with tears, nodding eagerly. “Yes, please!” You hold out your left hand and Mat slides the ring home - a perfect fit. The sunlight glitters off the diamond as you twist your hand in the air, a stupid grin on your face. “Mat, god, it’s gorgeous. Holy shit, I love you.”
His laughter fills the air and he presses a sweet kiss to the corner of your mouth. “Aren’t you glad I woke you up this morning?” He teases, bracing an arm around your lower back so he can sit back on his ass and you can straddle his lap. No chance you’re letting go of him just yet.
“Oh yeah,” you nod like a bobble head, still looking at the ring on your finger. It’s surreal, you’re engaged to Mat, you’re going to be his wife! He’s going to be your husband! “Best reason for an early morning wake up.” A wild giggle bubbles up in your chest. “I can’t believe it, we’re engaged!”
You cup his cheeks with both of your hands and pull his face to yours for a kiss, your lips turned up in a permanent grin. Mat rests his forehead against yours when you break apart, your hands still holding his face.
“One more surprise,” he tells you.
“There’s a bottle of champagne in that cooler?” You joke, brushing the tip of your nose against his.
“Okay,” Mat chuckles, “two more surprises.”
“Lay it on me, you big romantic,” you wiggle happily on his lap, the fizzy excitement of Mat’s proposal making you feel a little lightheaded.
Mat’s hands trace a lazy path up and down your sides, slipping under your sweater and ghosting over your warm skin until his fingertips are brushing the undersides of your breasts, making you inhale sharply and arch into his touch. “Y’know how we’re going to visit my parents in a few days?” He asks, turning his head so he can kiss your palm.
It’s hard to concentrate with his hands on your body, but you manage a faint nod.
“We’re taking a little detour to Punta Cana first,” Mat says, punctuating his words with a kiss to your lips. “I wanted to make sure I got to see my gorgeous fiancée in a skimpy little white bikini as soon as possible after proposing.”
“Oh, do you?” You giggle, kissing his cheek. “When do we leave?”
Mat lifts his left wrist up so he can look at his watch. He squints at the face and you can see him doing the mental math before he says, “like thirteen hours?”
“Seriously?” You lean back, face scrunched up, shocked at the quick departure. “You must’ve been really convinced that I was going to say yes,” you tease.
“I know that you’re nuts for me,” Mat smirks, leaning forward to kiss the argument right out of your mouth, his fingers expertly twisting over your nipple and making you melt in his lap, pliant and horny. He licks into your mouth and you lean closer against his chest, pressing Mat back against the back of the passenger seat, the heat of his cock pressing against your core while you rock over his lap.
While you’re making out like horny teenagers, Mat’s phone vibrates incessantly in the cup holder in the center console. Mat laughs into your mouth and breaks away with a gasp, “that’ll be everyone waiting to see what you said.”
Licking at your swollen, chapped lips, you reach around Mat and grab his phone, the screen lit up with dozens of messages. “Did you tell everyone that you were proposing?” You ask, scanning the messages from the guys and spotting a few from Sydney too.
“Uh, yeah?” Mat plucks his phone from your hands. “I needed Syd and Holly to pack your bag for you and I liked the positive encouragement. You would not believe how many wife guys are in that locker room.”
“I believe it,” you assure him, beaming and holding your left hand up by your face when he turns the camera on you. “Selfie time, Mr. Barzal.”
You smush your cheek right next to his, matching cheesy grins on your faces when Mat snaps the picture, sending it off to the group chat. You tuck your face into Mat’s neck, breathing quietly and inhaling the familiar scent of his cologne.
“Hey,” you murmur against his skin, getting his attention, “I’m really excited to be your wife.”
Mat’s chin knocks gently against your forehead. “I’m really excited to be your husband,” he replies, hugging you to his chest. “Ready to start FaceTiming everyone?”
“Hmm,” you hum, brushing your nose against Mat’s neck, “can it just be us for a few more minutes?”
“Yeah, it can,” Mat agrees, tossing his phone back into the driver’s seat and tangling his legs with yours. He plays with the ring on your finger, running his thumb over the band. The diamond catches the sunlight and you watch it sparkle, casting rainbows on the roof of the car.
The waves keep crashing and now there are some seagulls making noise outside too.
Mat’s heart beats steadily at your back and it’s the perfect way to start the next chapter in your lives.
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evangelical04 · 2 days
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A Single Daffodil || 1
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Summary: Getting arranged to be married to your long-time crush wasn't exactly the fairy tale romance you were hoping for. Nor is the dynamic of the marriage, with your husband treating you like you don't exist. But you're going to make this work, whether he cares about you or not. And he definitely doesn't...right?
Pairing: Min Yoongi x Reader
Rating: 18+ minors DNI
Word Count: 2.7K
Genre: angst, romance, unrequited love, smut, enemies to lovers, arranged marriage au, businessman yoongi
Warnings: parental trauma, sibling trauma, toxic parents, unrequited love, explicit language, alcohol usage, yoongi's kind of mean, future smut
Author's Note: hello! i'm Eva and this is my first fic on tumblr ever! I've been a reader for so long and I've always wanted to write my own stories, so I figured I finally would. I know it’s kind of short but I promise the other parts will be longer. Please give me any feedback you have and let me know if you'd like there to be a tag list or anything! I hope you guys like it!! p.s. I'm totally posting this instead of doing my morphology homework that's due in 15 minutes
masterlist / next
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The door to your childhood home looked artificially welcoming. There were too many flowers lining the walls encasing the looming wooden door. The grass on the lawn just was a bit too green without a blade out of place and the paved walkway was freshly powerwashed and missing even a speck of dirt. You let out the deep breath you were holding and gently took hold of the overly ornate bronze knocker adorning the painted wood of the door. Two loud thuds rang out as you knocked and the door quickly opened afterwards.
“Hello, Miss Y/N, your parents have been expecting you.”
“Yes, I know. Thank you, Mrs. Oh,” you responded quietly, nodding at the grey-haired woman. She shot you a sympathetic smile before ushering you in, taking your coat and carefully laying it over her arm. After removing your shoes, you followed her past the foyer to the living room where your parents awaited. 
You knew what was coming, you knew that this had been decided long before you were born. Yet, you still felt unprepared. You had grown comfortable, living in your simple apartment in Gangnam and your quiet work routine. Biting your lip, you reprimanded yourself internally, You should’ve brought this shit up in therapy before it happened.
“Here we are, Miss Y/N,” Mrs. Oh said, snapping you out of your self-pity session. You nodded gratefully at her, sending a small smile her way. Her eyebrows wove together in her own pity-ridden expression and she quickly whispered, “Good luck,” while exiting swiftly. You steeled your nerves and forced your chin up high, knowing that you’d most likely cower inwards as soon as you faced your parents anyway.
Stepping into the room, you noted the almost intervention-like setup your parents had arranged themselves in, with your father sitting proudly in his reclining, leather armchair, clad in a dark blue quarter zip and khaki pants. Your mother stood facing the fireplace, arms crossed, in a simple and elegant turquoise dress and hair tied up in a tight and neat bun, with her baby hairs smoothed back to prevent any imperfection. You could almost imagine her pinched mouth, forever encased in a stern and unamused expression. 
“Hello father, mother,” you started, trying to smooth the slight trembling in your voice. Your mother turned around, eyes narrowing at your form, “Sit down.”
You promptly obeyed.
“Your father and I have decided on your marriage. It’ll be to the Min family, to Min Yoongi.”
“What? To him? But,” you began protesting but your mother quickly cut you off with a steely glare. 
“It has already been decided. Your wedding will be in eight months. I’ll forward you the invitation list and you can add three people of your choosing. You’ll be having dinner with us and the Min family on Friday at six. I’ll have Yujin send you an email with further details. Don’t be late.” 
You looked to your father in a desperate plea but were only met with stony silence and a passive face. You turned back to your mother and registered the composed expression painting her face. Your fate had been decided, and it had not worked in your favor at all. Rising slowly, you set your hands by your side and bowed towards your parents, “I understand. I’ll be there.”
Your mother swiftly exited the room, evidently deciding the conversation was over. You could hear her dangling earrings tinkling against each other in what felt like a mocking melody. Your father calmly produced a cigar from the table next to him and lit up, no longer acknowledging you either. You let out another slow breath and walked out. 
Collecting your coat from Mrs. Oh, who tried to give you a comforting shoulder squeeze but it felt more like condolences than anything, and made your way to your car parked in front of the gate closing off your parents’ home. 
That’s it then.
You felt eerily calm yet stressed as you started up your car and carefully reversed out, making sure to avoid hitting the carved statues your parents had in front of the iron gate. As you drove home, your mind started racing with the information you had been relayed. 
Min Yoongi as your soon-to-be-husband? What irony.
Does he even know you exist?
Will you be able to survive this?
Hand gripping the steering wheel hard, you quickly dialed the most recent number in your contact list. She answered after only two rings.
“Y/N! Are you still alive? How’d it go?”
“Hi Joohee, not great. I’m completely and totally fucked.”
Joohee chuckled on the other end of the line, “Want to come over?”
“Yes,” you breathed, “I was hoping you’d offer.”
“I’ll get the booze.”
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“Min Yoongi? Now that’s ironic,” Joohee chuckled, seemingly at your expense. You shot a glare her way which she shrugged in response to.
“How long have you been crushing on him? This is, like, practically fate. Maybe this’ll be a good thing.”
You scoffed in response, “A good thing? Joohee, be serious. The last thing I want to do is get with my long-time infatuation, not crush, by forcing him to be my husband.” You took another swig of wine. It was a cheap pink Moscato, perfect for nights like these with Joohee. 
Joohee shoved a pillow in your direction in an effort to gain more room on the couch you had stuffed yourselves onto. The trash reality dating show you had on in the background was showing a rather dramatic fight but you paid it no attention, “It’s just…I haven’t talked to him in the last, what, five years? He probably doesn’t even remember me. And you’ve heard the rumors, I don’t think he’ll be exactly thrilled at giving up his playboy lifestyle just because he has to marry me.”
“What if he doesn’t give that up?”
You stared at Joohee in slight surprise, “What do you mean?”
“Like, what if he says that he doesn’t want to stop hooking up with other people? What will you do?”
Your brows furrowed as you considered the question, “I don’t know, I guess. I mean, I can’t really stop him. I guess I’d just have to live with it.”
Joohee hummed in response before continuing on, “Well, this is happening whether you like it or not. Just try to make it amicable at the least. Maybe it’ll work out, you never know. Just look at Jin oppa.”
Kim Seokjin, Joohee’s older brother and a friend of Min Yoongi’s, was arranged by Joohee’s parents to marry Song Yeonhee, and the two had seemingly fallen in love after a rocky start to their nuptials. You had seen them recently at Yeonhee’s baby shower and she had been glowing, looking unbelievably happy. You recalled the loving gaze that Seokjin had sent her during the party and the pang of envy you felt, knowing that you would likely never get to experience that. 
“Yeah, well,” you responded, “He’s an outlier. Most of these types of marriages don’t work out. I have a feeling I’m going to be a part of that group.”
“You’re too negative, you haven’t even met him for dinner yet. Maybe he’ll surprise you. You just have to give him the chance.”
You mulled over Joohee’s words and nodded, “Yeah, maybe you’re right. I guess I’ll see how Friday goes.”
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You weren’t technically late. 
While you still had about 5 minutes before the dinner officially started, you weren’t early, and that was unacceptable by your mother’s standards. A mini emergency at your job had left you scrambling to leave on time, only noticing the late hour when one of your coworkers asked if they should order take-out for the team. After profusely apologizing to your team, they encouraged you to go, practically shooing you out the door, claiming they could handle the situation for now. 
Which left you barely on time to park in the lot outside the ridiculously fancy Japanese restaurant your mother’s assistant, Yujin, had sent to your email earlier that week. You quickly stepped out, smoothing out your dress that you had kept in the backseat of your car and had hastily changed into in the parking lot of your office. Tugging down the hem, you took a moment to look at your reflection in your car window and attempt to look more presentable. Your hair was slightly frizzy but nicely combed back, and you had extremely minimal makeup on from only remembering last minute this morning, and your eyes looked tired. 
You felt tired.
Shaking off your nerves, you headed inside the restaurant giving your family name to the hostess who took you back to a private room where your mother and father were waiting. Your father spared you only a cursory glance before returning his gaze to his phone and your mother looked you up and down before uttering a curt, “Hm.” You held in an eye roll and quickly sat next to them, trying to calm your heart rate for the sure-to-be exhilarating dinner ahead. At six on the dot, you spotted the same hostess leading the Min family towards your table. Your mother stood, welcoming them and urging them to sit down. You stood as well, a little less welcoming, a lot more obligated. 
Mrs. Min looked like the epitome of a rich older woman with dark black hair combed back and glittering jewels lining her ears and neck, complementing the midnight blue gown she had on. Mr. Min was dressed quite similarly to your father, in a simple suit, the only difference being his starkly greying hair providing quite the contrast to his dark blazer. Close behind them was the person you were the most anxious about meeting, Min Yoongi. His pitch-black hair complemented his slightly tanned skin nicely and his feline eyes remained straightforward and untelling. He was dressed in a simple black suit as well with an expensive-looking watch adoring his wrist. His mouth was closed tightly and he did not smile at your mother when she greeted him, not at your father when they sat down across from your family, and certainly not at you.
Your hands nervously played with each other in your lap as you took your seat again. You listened quietly as the mothers exchanged pleasantries and the fathers gruffly greeted each other. You were trying to avoid looking at Yoongi as much as possible.
“So, Y/N,” Mrs. Min started, making you startle to attention, “How old are you now?”
“Twenty-nine, ma’am.”
“Ah, so only a bit younger than Yoongi. That’s good then. How is your work?”
You felt your father stiffen next to you and prayed your discomfort didn’t show on your face, “Good. I’m in the middle of producing a new project with my team.”
“How lovely. Although I’m sure you’ll be leaving that soon after the wedding. You won’t need to work then after all,” Mrs. Min smiled at you. It was hard to read her so you couldn’t tell if she was being genuine or not, though if you had to guess, it was likely the latter. Your job was a point of contention with your family. Choosing to work in a video game production company did not go over well, and if your older brother, Kyungsoo, hadn’t been in line to inherit Seo Industries, you would’ve never been able to keep it. 
You smiled awkwardly in response to Mrs. Min and returned your gaze to the empty plate in front of you. 
As the conversation dragged on, you couldn’t help but steal a glance or two at Yoongi, who was periodically checking his phone and looking permanently bored of the conversation. Not that you could blame him. The dull talk of social circle gossip and work was beginning to get grating, and even the introduction of fancy entrees wasn’t enough to stop your stomach from feeling queasy. 
Yoongi had yet to say one word to you. To be fair, you hadn’t said anything to him either, but he had barely looked in your direction since he entered the private dining room. How exactly were you supposed to start a conversation with that? 
Soon after the desserts came out and were finished, with you politely refusing, feeling like you were going to throw up any second, Mrs. Min suddenly pushed her chair back and stood. She looked down at you and Yoongi and announced, “Well. I think we can leave them to talk on their own for a bit. Why don’t you join us for a drink at our home, Eujin-ssi?”
At the sound of her name, your mother stood, nodding, “Yes, that sounds lovely. Let’s let them get to know each other a bit more.” With that, the parents swiftly gathered their belongings and left, before you could even protest, leaving you staring open-mouthed at the exit. 
Slowly, you turned to face Yoongi and were startled, seeing his eyes already boring into yours. 
“Let’s get one thing straight,” Yoongi stated, his deep and stable voice wrapping around you for the first time that night, “This marriage means nothing to me. It shouldn’t to you either. I’ll do my thing and you do yours. Most importantly, stay out of my life except when necessary. Just because my parents are forcing my hand doesn’t mean I have to adhere to every little thing. Nothing will be changing except for our living situation and a ring on our fingers.”
A little stunned, you could only stutter a passive agreement and watch as he rose and left without sparing you another glance. 
Letting out a deep breath, you closed your eyes, trying to understand what had just transpired. Your heart raced as you quickly stacked up the dishes to be a bit easier for the busboy and quickly made your way to your car. Sitting down in the driver’s seat, you vaguely registered Min Yoongi’s cold demeanor towards you.
It seems he didn’t remember you after all.
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The dress you had on was itchy, but you knew if you complained, you would only end up with a sharp stinging on your cheek and tear-filled eyes. You had escaped the boring party with grown-ups and were sitting outside on a stone bench in the garden, trying to remedy your hurt feelings at the hands of the mean, older boy, Hyunsoo. 
He had confidently poked fun at your appearance, saying the dress was a bit too small on you and that your parents should’ve sprung for a size that could fit an elephant instead. He continued on, saying your parents must’ve forgotten to vaccinate you for measles considering all the red spots on your face that were actually acne. Being a tender twelve years of age and going through the worst bits of puberty, his words hit you hard and you quickly ran from the scene into the garden. 
Unable to contain your tears, they slipped down your face in large droplets and soaked into the front of your dress. 
“Hey, you.”
Startled, you looked up to see a boy a couple of years older than you standing in front of you, black hair shining in the light from the garden lamps. His sharp eyes trailed down your tear-stained face. You quickly turned away in shame, not wanting to undergo any more embarrassment tonight. 
“Hey, snot-face.”
You shot him a glare but softened when you saw his hand extended, holding a handkerchief, his face turned slightly away, “Use this. You look ugly while you’re crying.”
You gingerly took the cloth from his hands and blew your nose, noticing him wince out of the corner of your eye. 
“Thank you,” you managed and he only rolled his eyes in response. 
“Yeah, whatever. I think Joohee’s looking for you,” he grumbled before turning on his heel and stalking off back towards the party. 
Confused, your eyes followed after him, not knowing how he knew that Joohee would be looking for you. You unfolded the handkerchief and noticed an elegant embroidering of three letters in black near the bottom, MYG. 
Oh, you realized, Min Yoongi. Joohee’s older brother was friends with him but you had never seen him before. Joohee had described him as kind of rude and quite closed off, but you disagreed. He certainly didn’t seem that bad.
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Text
Happily Ever After
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader
Summary: Y/N is feeling conflicted on her wedding day. Despite the expectations of her family, Y/N realizes that her heart belongs to another. Encountering Bucky before the ceremony, Y/N confronts her doubts and ultimately decides to follow her heart, fleeing the wedding and running into Bucky's waiting car.
Word Count: 1,7+
A/N: Bucky is a knight in shining armour. Please comment and let me know what you think!
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A wedding day was supposed to be a happy day filled with love and joy. A day to remember for the rest of your life as one of the most important events. Everyone was supposed to be smiling and shedding happy tears throughout the day, making memories that would last them a lifetime. 
But why did it feel so wrong?
Y/N was pacing around in her room, biting her nails, no doubt the manicure she had gotten yesterday was already a bit chipped and messed up. She didn’t care, though. Her body was trembling, she couldn’t breathe properly and she didn’t have anyone around that could calm her nerves.
Her parents had been joyous at the engagement and at the time it had felt right. At least she kept telling herself that. Reminding herself of everyone else’s happiness. But she had never truly been happy in the relationship.
Perhaps the real truth had always been there. The relationship was something that happened over the course of many years, mostly due to her mother’s and future mother-in-law’s meddling. 
The older women had been neighbours for years and when they found out their children were similar in age the matchmaking had begun. Y/N had to admit that Robert was handsome and a true gentleman, but he hadn’t ignited something deeper in her soul. Not like someone else had in the past. Someone that her parents had deemed wrong for her many years prior.
A soft knock was heard on the door and she turned around coming face to face with the culprit who had stolen her heart and who her soul belonged to.
“Bucky? What are you doing here? I thought you said you weren’t going to come,” she smiled softly at Bucky and took in his attire. He was wearing his usual black leather jacket, but underneath it lay a black button-up shirt instead of his usual colored henley. 
Bucky Barnes was the most handsome man she had ever seen, and the way he looked at her right now made her question all of the life choices that had led her to this moment.
He came closer to her, shaking his head as he took her in.
“Wow, doll,” he said in a whisper, his voice cracking and she swore she could see tears in his eyes.
“You look breathtaking,” he placed both of his hands on her cheek, making her look up at him.
She was right, his eyes were glossy, and seeing him so emotional made her own eyes start to tear up.
He whispered her name softly, as the first tear fell from her eyes. 
“Don’t cry, it’s supposed to be a happy day.”
She closed her eyes and shook her head. Grasping onto his hands that still held her face.
“But why does it feel so wrong?”
He sighed as he placed his forehead on hers. They stood there for a while, completely in silence and taking in each other’s company.
“I’m going to wait for you in my car if you end up choosing to go against your family.” 
Y/N opened her eyes at that, smiling at Bucky. They had had this same conversation two days ago.
“Bucky, you know I can’t do that.”
He abruptly pulled away then, shaking his head at her comment. There was a storm behind his eyes and Y/N knew he wasn’t pleased in the slightest about the predicament she was in. His fingers were shaking as he paced around the room, obviously angry.
“Why? Why do you have to put everyone else’s happiness above your own? What about your happily ever after” He asked as he pulled at his hair, avoiding the smaller ones' gaze.
Y/N looked away from him, tears flowing easily now. He had a point, she knew it, but she couldn’t risk losing her family. Bucky was giving her a choice she could never accept.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered and Bucky looked at her then. He sighed and moved closer to her once more.
“I meant what I said. I’m going to be waiting for you. I’ll wait until I see the doors open and you both walk out hand-in-hand. Only then, I’ll leave. But if at any moment, any at all, you finally decide to choose your own happiness before the ceremony is over, I’ll be ready.” He closed the distance between them and laid a tender kiss on her forehead, before leaving her alone in the room once more.
15 minutes later, Y/N was walking down the aisle, after having successfully fixed her makeup and removed any obvious signs of her breakdown.
She had noticed her parents first. Their proud smiles and her mother’s nod irked something in her, but she tried her best to ignore it and kept walking further. She noticed Robert next. He looked good in his grey suit with a satisfied smile on his face, and suddenly she realised that he was not the one she wanted to be waiting for her at the altar.
No, he didn’t have the ocean eyes that left her breathless whenever he looked at her for more than a second. He never looked at her as if she had hung the stars and the moon up in the darkened sky and lit up the whole world. 
No. Robert just looked.. Pleased.
She had had an inkling that Robert had only agreed to propose because her own family had a better income. Bucky had once mentioned it to her, a fact that left her uneasy. She had brushed it off, but seeing the way he looked at her now, as if she were a walking cash check, made her stomach churn.
She stopped dead in her tracks. Robert frowned, the guests gasped and her mother looked at her with a stern face, slowly shaking her head.
“Y/N, don’t do it.” Her mother voiced and she just grinned at everyone. 
Y/N turned around and with a laugh and a newfound energy she had never felt before, ran back down the aisle towards the brown wooden doors. She could hear her mother screaming at her, but she didn’t care anymore. How had she almost gone through with the wedding when it was never something she truly wanted?
Y/N opened the door and quickly ran down the stairs, noticing the black SUV that Bucky drove. He was there like he’d promised.
The window rolled down and Bucky’s handsome face appeared.
“Do you need a ride?” He asked with a smirk, before leaning over the middle console and opening the door for her.
She sat in quickly, before looking behind her shoulder and seeing Robert and their mothers already running out of the church door. 
“Go, go, go,” she yelled at him and he drove off before she could even buckle herself in. The car left the sidewalk just a second before Robert could reach her.
They sat in silence for a few seconds before both of them burst out laughing. She leaned back in her seat, feeling the rush of adrenaline still coursing through her veins.
“God, that was the most exhilarating thing I’ve ever done,” she shook her head in disbelief looking over at Bucky, who was already looking at her.
“Where to next, princess?” 
The whole world was upon her now, but there was only one place she could feel the happiest.
“Take me home, Buck,” she whispered and he gave her a funny look, not understanding why she’d want to go home out of all the possibilities.
“Your place,” she corrected herself and Bucky was speechless for a second before a wide grin set on his face.
“To home it is,” he said with a proud voice.
They had driven for 30 minutes until they finally arrived at Bucky’s cabin. It was a lovely place, perfect in size and a bit further from the city, that gave them the perfect amount of privacy.
“I’ve always loved your house,” Y/N whispered as she stepped out of the car and started walking towards the house. She yelped suddenly when she felt her legs lift off the ground and found herself in Bucky’s arms.
Bridal-style.
He was smirking at her mischievously and Y/N raised an eyebrow at him.
“It’s customary to carry the bride over the threshold after the wedding,” he said and she rolled her eyes ignoring the bubbling feeling inside, loving the feel of his arms around her.
“What wedding? I don’t remember attending a ceremony,” she chuckled and he tightened his grip on her.
“Well, you’re still wearing a wedding dress.”
Once inside, he lowered her to stand, but still left his hands lingering on her waist, holding her close.
“Y/N,” he whispered her name and it sounded like honey to her ears. She closed her eyes and sighed, not remembering the last time she felt this happy. There was only one thing that could make this day better.
“Can I finally kiss you?” She opened her eyes at his question, smiling at the man in front of her. 
Her one true love.
“I was just about to ask you the same,” she admitted and the smile that appeared on his face could’ve lightened up the whole room.
Without another word, Bucky closed the distance between them, his hand reaching out to gently pull her in. His touch sent shivers down Y/N’s spine as she leaned more into his embrace, her eyes fluttering closed.
And then, their lips finally met in a tender kiss, igniting a firestorm of emotions neither of them could contain. It was a kiss filled with passion, longing, and a depth of feeling that transcended words.
Time seemed to stand still as they lost themselves in each other, their bodies pressed together as if trying to merge into one. Y/N ran her fingers through Bucky’s soft hair, letting him pull herself closer as he deepened the kiss, savouring every moment of their connection. 
“I love you, Y/N. Always have and always will.” He said against her lips with so much emotion that Y/N felt tears in her eyes again.
“You’re my happily ever after, Bucky. I love you.”
And as they stood there, wrapped in each other’s arms, they knew that this kiss was just the beginning of their wonderful fairytale together.
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thank you for reading & reblogs are appreciated <3
127 notes · View notes
silassinclair · 2 days
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Hello there! So this is my first time requesting since i just started following you. So let me tell you, your Yandere Wild West Outlaw got me absolutley smitten and obsessed! i love your writing so much!!
Anyway back to the main subject and on with the request.
What about Maddox with an EXTRA Sassy darling. Like, full of and fluent on sarcasm (the kind that makes you go: DAAAAMN). The darlin' has a sharp tongue and retorts for any kind of bad words might be thrown towards her (and maybe, way later in the relationship, towards Maddox too). From really polite f-u's to tge sthraightfoward ones, she can reply and roast anyone.
Oh and a bonus head cannon (a little something that came to mind) after reading about the wedding rings. I can totally imagine the darling going from questioning about where Maddox "buys" all the weird gifts to just becoming immune, later in the relationship. Let's say Maddox comes back (to the temporary) home with a very strange object, like A very expensive porcelain/china vase and the darling just goes: "oh thank you. Please put it on the table. I'll be done with the soup and then take care of it"
Yea anyway i'll stop rambling now.
Sorry for the bad english. It's not my first language and it is past midnight here.
Have a great day/night ✨
We love sassy girlboss Y/n’s here. Thank you for submitting this request anon!! Hope it is to your liking <3
Yandere Wild West Outlaw x Sassy Reader
CW// Y/n is a bully, Maddox gets his ego hurt, Maddox gets angry, Maddox is dumb
Masterlist
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Maddox immediately knew that you were a spitfire when he first had a conversation with you. You weren’t the typical damsel in distress who when captured by the evil outlaw you’re forced into submission.
Oh no. There’s not a drop of submission in your body.
Maddox thought you would be useful to have around. You’d be his own personal maid! Maybe even like a housewife. But no…
“Clean my laundry if ya’ wanna live to see anotha’ day.”
“Alright alright, calm your tits. What should I clean first? The shirt with sweat marinated into the fabric or the undies with shit stains?”
“THERE AIN’T ANY SHIT ON MY UNDIES MISSY! IT’S DIRT!”
You’re a total pain in the ass. Whenever he tried to act cool or intimidating you’d immediately shoot it down with your words.
He hates it when you ruin his moment in front of other people.
He got really pissed after you made a jab at him in the middle of a duel.
“It’s just you an’ me boy. But we both know who’ll be standin’ by the end of this.”
“Hopefully it isn’t you.”
“SHUT UP Y/N! GET YOUR TUSH BACK INSIDE, I’M TRYNA’ HAVE A DUEL!”
Punishes you by tying you up and leaving you outside for the night.
He ignores your complaints about coyotes or rattlesnakes. He needs you to shut your mouth and give him some peace.
After that night of punishment though he noticed how you wouldn’t really talk to him often.
“Go shine my boots. And I don’t wanna hear a single complaint outta ya’.”
“Okay.”
“…”
Okaay so he fucked up.
The days drag on so slow without your quips and jabs! He never realized how funny the things you said are now that you’re gone.
Well you’re not gone, just more closed off now. But you may as well be gone. This isn’t like you at all to be so quiet and reclusive!
Maybe he was too rough in you? He did kill your Father and force you to be his housewife maid.
So doing what he does worst, he apologizes.
“Hey, ‘bout that one time I left ya’ outside. I realize that was silly of me cus ya’ coulda gotten eaten. So that was my bad.”
“So you’re sorry?”
“Yeah.”
He’s brushing Jasper’s fur, telling the horse how good he is. Cleaning Jasper is the only chore Maddox likes to do himself.
You’re sitting on a tree stump watching the man talk to his horse.
“You know Jasper’s a horse right?”
“Oh really? I thought he was a dog.”
The small smirk on your face after his little quip made Maddox feel like a million bucks.
That’s when he learned that he likes seeing you happy.
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After the “Marriage”: (Read about it Here)
“Uhm what’s all this?” You ask your unofficial husband.
“This-”
He puts a brown sack down on the table. The sound of the contents inside clang together as he dumps it all out. A dozen chipped fine china plates come out.
“Is how we make our house a home sweetness. I hear housewives go crazy over fancy dishes n’ shit.”
Maddox stands there with a proud grin underneath his masked face. (He still hasn’t showed you his face yet btw.) He was like a dog showing his owner how good he is at retrieving sticks when playing fetch.
You look at him with an unimpressed quirk of your brow. “And where did you happen to come across such fine china may I ask?”
He shrugs and comes around the table to wrap his arms around you from behind.
“A buddy gave em to me.” His deep voice reverberates in your ear.
“Did you hold your so called buddy at gunpoint?”
“Would you be mad if I said yes?”
You groan and shakes your head back and forth. “Maddox you know you can’t just go around taking people’s stuff! Now the sheriff was probably alerted and is looking for you now. And why did you steal a bunch of plates!? Jasper can’t carry all this shit! We should only have what is necessary for survival you brute. Are you even listening to me!?”
But he only looks at you with lovesick eyes as you complain about how stupid he is.
“Princess did I ever tell you how sexy you are when you’re mad at me?” His hands go lower down your waist.
Rolling your eyes you smack his hands and leave his embrace, leaving him standing by himself like a kicked puppy.
“I have a meal to make so set the table with those plates you got. And no more stealing people’s things!”
“Yes ma’am.”
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I appreciate all the requests that come in!! But I just want to remind all of you about my rules and that I do NOT write Y/n as a specific race. My writing is for everybody to enjoy!! She’s race ambiguous. Many people request that I write a Black Y/n but I’m not black so I won’t be doing that. If I write for a specific race then I feel like I’d just be stereotyping what black people are supposed to act like. So please don’t ask me to write for a Y/n that is a specific race. Thank you.
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Sprace- Call
MODERN AU TW: Swearing??
(I've never posted on here lol)
Spot cringed as his phone call was answered. Usually, it just went straight to the far too familiar  “Hi it’s Racetrack! Don’t leave a message!” voicemail to hurt him even more with the fact that he was either blocked, or Race was declining all his calls. A harsh ‘What do you want?’ may not have been ideal, but Spot still smiled softly at the sound of his ex’s voice.
"Hey…Race," He started. The same words he had said almost every day a month ago. Throwing his bag down as he got back from work, striking up conversations at 2 a.m even though they both needed to be up early, Starting a call much like this one if anything happened. "Do you still have my white shirt with the sleeves?" 
When Race’s phone displayed Spot’s caller ID, he didn’t know what to expect. Maybe yelling, maybe an explanation that it was a dare, or maybe some tearful confession about how his love never died. Anything with more emotion than requesting an old shirt.
“Um… I’ll look around.” The conversation was too stiff, too formal. Race fiddled with the cuffs of the white shirt that definitely wasn’t Spot’s (it was) that he was wearing and paced around the couch he slept on. 
“What do you need it for?”
He’d never admit it, but Race missed Spot more than he could tell. Hearing his voice again was painful, but something to feel. He had been a mess the last month, living with his best friend, missing sleep and working his ass off to help pay the rent when it was paying the rent that got him into this mess. Spot had walked out after the topic of money had come up, only after many anger-clouded words had been thrown between him and Race. Just thinking about it, Race could taste the regret and adrenaline and feel the knot of codependency tighten as it had done that night when he realized how alone and helpless he was. Even though he hadn’t anticipated a break-up, it wasn’t like Race was expecting-
“A wedding,” Spot answered coldly and quickly. Dwelling on love around him wasn’t going to help him swallow the lump in his throat.
He regretted walking out every day. He knew deep down, that he could’ve walked back in at any moment with nothing fixed, another argument ignored, but weeks passed and Race lost the apartment he could only afford with Spot’s help. Spot lost the one stable thing in his life, the one person he felt like he could talk to, the stupidity, wittiness, energy and affection that came with Race and he missed it more than he was willing to admit. He knew it was his chance to salvage any scraps of a relationship but didn’t know how to begin. 
“I’m sorry.” It was a struggle to force the words out of his mouth, but Spot managed to sound a lot more stable than he felt. 
Race’s reply was so emotionless it hurt. No sadness, not even a quiver in his voice, no hope. Just a bland question reminding Spot he’d made more than enough mistakes;
“About what?” 
“Um, This. Calling you, acting like nothing’s happened, acting like I don’t care.”
There was silence on the other end of the phone and Spot knew he would have to address the elephant in the room.
“...And leaving. I was- I am so stupid for walking out. It sounds pathetic but I didn’t mean any of the things I said. I really lo- I really loved you.” 
Race’s soft smile threatened to fall at the use of past tense.  His mind tried to object, but a smirk tugged at his lips and words crawled out.
“You miss me.”  He observed, a mix of teasing and astonishment now unmistakable in his voice
“No, I just really want my shirt,” Spot said sarcastically, rolling his eyes as if Race could see him over the phone.  “Yes, I fucking miss you.”
Spot hated himself for giving in that easily. But at the same time, he knew lying wasn’t going to get him anywhere or anyone for that matter.
Warm hope bloomed through Race at the less-than-heartfelt confession, sudden longing for the one person he thought he’d never be allowed to long for again. A million hazy emotions flew through his mind but he couldn’t articulate everything he was feeling and couldn’t force every heavy sentiment through the phone. He needed to know this was genuine before pouring his heart out. 
Spot’s finger was over the ‘End Call’ button when Race interrupted their silence, “But you said-”
“I said a lot of things,” Spot cut him off, “We both did. But I’d bet this month's rent you didn’t mean half of it.” 
Race wanted to object, but it was true. He hadn’t meant anything close. And while he prayed to every god that he wouldn’t regret it again, heavy words slid off his tongue;
“I miss you too. But look, we can’t just…go back to whatever we had a month ago.”
“Bad communication and not-yet-healed commitment issues?”
Race exhaled deeply, “Yeah, that. But I can’t- I mean- I’ve got your shirt. Please just come and get it so we can at least talk in person.” 
Spot running down apartment stairs full speed to reunite with his ex-boyfriend was probably something countless medical professionals would advise against but, quite frankly, he was more than willing to break a wrist or two for another shot. He managed a couple of breathless words that were essentially just ‘See you soon’ before falling into his car in a haze of nerves and emotions pretty damn close to excitement. Serious conversations weren’t his forté but were better than a familiar voicemail.
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Precious Secrets
Wanda Maximoff X Reader
past!Natasha Romanoff X Reader
Summary: Time is ticking down towards your wedding day and it only feels right to look back on the good (and bad) choices that got you where you are today.
Warnings: Natty is dead in this one and yes it’s a bit angsty, but this one’s more focusing on the healing process R goes through after putting off the grieving process for over ten years. Use of alcohol, some swearing. Not much else tbh. This is not a graphic fic whatsoever.
Gif not mine
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“Was I right or was I right?” Sam sat next to you on the porch steps with ease. As if this was just another night.
“You really know how to pull a party together, man…” The green from the half-peeled sticker on your drink would remain under the nail on your thumb until tomorrow. “Thanks, Sam,”
“Look at us, huh,” He said, that infamous smile curling up as he bumped his shoulder into yours. You rolled your eyes with a laugh, lifting your drink and taking another swig. “Remember that time we let Steve drive us to that rich kid party?” He leaned back, resting his elbows on the worn wooden planks.
“First of all, Peggy is British, not rich. Also, Steve was the only one still sober,” you point out, and Sam chortles.
“He was so nervous about her that any one of us would’ve been a better driver. Dude could not keep his anxiety in check,” you both chuckled at the memory.
“Don’t even get me started on the dancing,” you sigh, pinching the bridge of your nose.
“Can’t believe he went right into tap,” Sam stood up, imitating the flourishes and moves in the sloppiest manner known to man.
“I swear I saw her throw up a little in her mouth,” You finish, letting out a deep breath. A quiet calm took over. The sun was up now and everyone else had tapped out from the festivities. It felt foreign with how the sun warmed your skin. You hadn’t been back home in over a decade, but your fiancé was adamant that the venue should be personal… and to be fair Wanda’s home was no longer an existing country, let alone a region where they would allow you two to be married.
“I’m surprised you saw anything. I recall you getting pretty cozy with a certain someone,” he wiggled his eyebrows playfully and your jaw clenched. It was only for a split second and luckily Sam was too busy squinting away the light from his eyes to notice. When he does turn to you all you offer is a shrug.
“It’s not like you weren’t ‘occupied’ either, my friend,” you joke, setting the empty bottle at your feet. “Do you ever miss it?” you ask.
“Getting in trouble?” he asks and you can’t help but smile to yourself.
“Yeah. That,”
“Not as much as I used to,” He admits. This time he regards you more carefully, eyes trying to read something that isn’t there. “I know you’re only in town for this week, but have you visited them yet?” He asks. With no need for elaboration, you shake your head.
“I’ve put it off this long… What’s a little longer?” You end with a shrug, standing up before hoisting Sam up with you. “How about we start the cleanup and then sleep for the next three days?” You joke and he lets you. It’d always been a touchy subject whenever you’d caught up on the phone. As long as it was at your pace and you felt ready.
- - -
“How was it?” Wanda asked with a loving smile, her arms open and beckoning you for a hug.
“All these old people are cramping my style,” you joke and Sam punches your shoulder playfully.
“You’re a piece of work, you know that?” He raises a brow at you and you laugh. It doesn’t take long to say goodbye and scold him for the DJ incident which Wanda is all too eager to hear about.
“I’m glad you had a really good night. I know it’s been a long time since you’ve seen your friends,” Wanda closes the door gently like she always does and you pull her in for a kiss.
“5 more days and they’ll all be sick of me,” you joke and your fiancé pinches your arm.
“Don’t be a meanie,” She jokes and you can’t help but feel lighter. That is at least until you notice the thoughtful look on her face. You furrow your brows-ready to ask when she cuts in. “Someone came by yesterday asking if you were still in town,” Wanda’s eyes are focused on her hands, which are playing with the buttons on your coat.
“Oh?” You ask, stomach twisting, knowing where this leads.
“She said her name was Yelena and that you used to be friends with her sister…” You could hear the underlying question in her tone. The one she most desperately wanted to ask, but would inevitably refuse to.
It’s something you admire about Wanda. As much as you wish she never had the traumatic childhood she had, it gave her the awareness of tact. The ability to sense that things were uneasy before anyone else could and adapt. Despite how adamant she was about being at a loss for how people work, she always knew when to be sharp and when to be gentle. When to push a conversation along and when to let it flow freely.
You admire her heart. You also love that it gives you just enough of an out with your wording on this particular topic.
“Yeah, I knew her sister back in high school. Yelena was always cool, but we never really hung out,” You try to wave off the concern with an easygoing smile and Wanda gets the hint.
Don’t push.
“Well, she wanted me to give you this. Said that it would mean the world to the family if we could make it,” Wanda said, handing you a small and neat invitation. Melina’s work.
“I don’t know-“ You started.
“What’s got you on the fence, love?” She asks casually, eyes studying your expressions for the smallest sign of your walls coming down.
“It’s nothing, really,” you lie.
“You can go alone if that’s more comfortable,” Wanda offers and that’s when you realize that she’d gotten more than your intended message. Don’t push because it hurts.
Just the kind of message that Wanda usually had for you at the beginning of your relationship. It took over a year for her to tell you more than just the facts of it. To change “it happened” to “it made me feel”. Just like you did with her, she wasn’t going to let this go.
“I’m not getting out of this,” and she pursed her lips, shaking her head.
“Not if my gut’s right about this,” She states.
“About what?”
“That whatever this situation is… It’s the reason you don’t come back here, isn’t it?”
- - -
Wanda drove. It’s a task that is not normally given to her as her driving is more than a bit scary at times. However, in the two days since your talk, you haven’t been able to stop remembering. Luckily, your most sacred places had either been shut down or abandoned, so those memories could still be pushed down.
There were others though. When you and Wanda went on a stroll through the nearby park, you saw the tree with your old nicknames carved into it. A name lost to nostalgia as you stood under the tree and watched Wanda point out with a small chuckle, “Who would write tiny dancer and stinkbug?” she laughed and a part of you felt pained. Angry. Defensive.
“No one important,” you shrugged, shaking off the small chip on your shoulder and sending Wanda a more believable smile. “Clearly they’re insane. Best friends forever spelled with an actual 4 and ending in ‘eva’? Ridiculous,” You poke fun at it and for a moment it helps to pretend you hadn’t carved it just to see Natasha smile.
Then there was the old bakery. It was right next to Joann’s fabrics and Wanda wanted to pop in before going to find more yarn to crochet with. The walls still had a floral pattern and that old people smell that lingers around in most government buildings. The light on the display case flickered more than you ever remember, but even worse, when you got to the register to pay the owner almost recognized you.
“You sure you’ve never been here before? I never forget a face,” He asked.
“Nope, I’ve never bought anything from here before. I just have one of those faces,” You say. Once again, you’re careful of the wording. You’d been there countless times to bug Natasha during her shifts, even when James was the one to pick her up afterward. Then, when they started dating you stopped coming by. It was embarrassing being the third wheel during her lunch breaks, but you’d also realized your feelings for her.
When you left the bakery, Wanda’s hand slipped from yours and instead of putting the bag in the car and continuing to the fabric store, Wanda sat in the passenger seat and slammed the door shut with a frown on her face. After a few minutes of her refusing to look at you through the windshield, you climbed inside the car with her.
“Hey, what’s going on?” You ask.
“You’re just acting really weird,” Wanda huffs, still not looking at you.
“What do you mean?” it couldn’t have been that noticeable.
“I don’t know… It’s just the way you’re acting. I know you’re just being you, but it doesn’t feel like it…” Wanda admits and you purse your lips.
“What can I do?” You ask, eyes looking over her features.
“Nothing. It’s just weird that since we’ve been here you’ve been feeling more and more like a stranger. Like I did something and it’s all weird now and I don’t even know what I did,” Wanda began rambling. This was the double-edged sword of someone so aware.
You had been acting strange, but it wasn’t because of her. It was never because of Wanda.
“Baby, you haven’t done anything, trust me,” You cut her off and her eyes finally meet yours as she quiets down. “I just… I haven’t been back here in so long and it’s been a bit much,” you offer a half-truth, not wanting to dig into the real problems you’re trying to run away from. Wanda’s instantaneous breath of relief is enough for the weight to come off your chest, just enough to take a deep breath together.
“I’m sorry for being so anxious and in my head about it. I didn’t mean to “
“Hey, it’s okay, love…” you say, reaching over the console to rub soothing circles on her back. After a few minutes, you speak again. “Ready to get more yarn now?”
After that, it was all smiles and sunshine.
Now? Now you’re parked on the side of the road in front of Natasha’s home. The last time you’d been there was a miserable affair and your best friend wasn’t there anymore to get you through it. Yelena made it through the first ten minutes before running to the backyard and shutting herself in the treehouse. Alexei had built it when she and Natasha were still only as tall as his waistline.
Melina was stoic as ever, shouldering the emotional burden internally and she was good at it. So good it scared you until you saw her slip into a quiet hallway, drinking and flinching from the burn of alcohol in a sizable flask. Later that night when everyone else had gone and you’d finished helping Alexei coerce Liho from meowing at Natasha’s bedroom door, you saw Melina sitting on the couch.
The flask was nowhere to be seen, but you had no doubt it was close by. Melina was flipping through pages of a large book, a photo album. You didn’t have the energy or the heart to talk to her as it was a shock to all of you. The sweet, vibrant, elusive Natasha Romanoff had gotten into the car with a drunk James Buchanan Barnes. The accident was a head-on collision with a semi-truck that left him paralyzed from the neck down.
- - -
“I’m surprised you’re being so traditional, getting married in the same church your parents did,” Melina comments.
“Well, you can’t beat tried and true,” you joke, pressing a kiss to Wanda’s forehead, your arm wrapped comfortably around her shoulder.
“I remember you promising to make me the flower girl,” Yelena accused jokingly and you both snorted with laughter.
“I’m sure we can find you a dress. Even if it is last minute,” Wanda adds, and even Alexei chuckles at that one.
“I remember when we got married,” Alexei says, turning to Melina and the older woman nods with a smirk.
“We didn’t have much money so we had to book a venue in the off-season,” Melina explained.
“Turns out that the off-season was also storm season,”
“And a tornado just barely went away by the time we were supposed to drive to the church,” Melina’s tone is unimpressed.
“It was destiny,” Alexei says, romanticizing the memory.
“It was luck,” Melina balances out his wistful personality with a splash of realism. “We’d already had Natasha at that point so she was our little flower girl,” Melina gushed and your expression took a turn. It had been an hour and you’d all avoided direct mention of her.
“That’s so cute! How old was she?” Wanda asks. The conversation continues with a casual quality that you are starting to hate. Have they really healed? Is it not supposed to feel like the world is imploding at the mere mention of her?
“She was three and Yelena was already on the way,” Melina mused and Yelena groaned, rolling her eyes. “Y/n’s mom officiated the wedding, actually,” the older woman added and you masked your true feelings, nodding along instead before getting up to refill everyone’s drinks. You make it to the kitchen without realizing Yelena followed you. Laughter fills the house and just as the walls begin to swell up you feel a hand on your shoulder.
“Y/n?” Yelena asks.
“Hey, yeah what’s up?” You do your best to act normal. Yelena isn’t one to mince words and as much as she remained a fly on the wall during her childhood, she did notice things about people. That included you since you’d been Natasha’s best friend for as long as the younger woman could remember.
“Still hurts?” She asks and you nod. “She wouldn’t want that for you,” she says the words you hate the most. No one else knew the truth. No one ever caught the two of you so why would they?
“She was my best friend, Yel… We did everything together,” You say and Yelena listens. Really listens. Her hand goes back to her side and she leans against the counter, watching you. “I just want to be happy. I want to make Wanda happy… I want to act like none of this… this… I’m trying not to think about it,” you finally admit.
“I get that,” She says simply and you scoff.
“I don’t think you do,” you say without thinking and her face turns to something you’ve never seen before. It’s a mix of confusion and anger.
“Fuck you,” Yelena’s voice is dry and bitter. “She was my sister,”
“She was my-“You shut your mouth before you can say the words. Yelena laughs at this, looking at you like you’re some pathetic parasite.
“Just because you had some stupid crush on my sister it doesn’t mean you get to say that,” Yelena pushes and you’re taken aback. “Oh, did you think I didn’t notice? I have eyes you know?” Yelena says and you finally snap out of it.
“You used to be likable,” you quip.
“Yeah, well, I grew up. What’s your excuse?” Yelena shoots back and you swallow your words.
“This was a bad idea-“You shake your head and pinch the bridge of your nose. After a moment of tense quiet you begin fixing everyone’s drinks. “I’m sorry,”
“Me too,” Yelena says, moving closer to help you. “Truce,” she says and you nod.
- - -
By the time Alexei retires for the night, Melina is only halfway through the first scrapbook of memories. Being best friends with someone since birth means they have just as many pictures with you in them. You remember when you moved away and begged your mom to get rid of any photos she had with you and Natasha together. It just hurt too much.
“Oh my god, you two were so cute!” Wanda gushes alongside Melina. Yelena catches sight of an embarrassing picture with her in it and she scowls. “And I love these, did you make them yourself?” Wanda asks Melina. She always loved crafts…
“Of course I did! I could teach you and give you the supplies. I don’t make these anymore,” Melina says and you furrow your eyebrows. That’s new. “I haven’t really since-“
“Mama,” Yelena gives the older woman a soft look and they quickly move on.
“The best picture is on the next page,” Melina says and Yelena shoots you a smirk that confuses you. When she turns it over you can’t breathe.
It’s of you and Natasha. She’s beaming, her cheeks bright red like her homecoming dress. You stood behind, holding her waist in the picture mid-laugh.
“Natasha’s date got grounded the day before the dance,” Melina said, looking up and making eye contact with you. Swallowing down the nerves you let out an awkward laugh.
“Yeah, it was way too last minute to get anything that fit right so I just went with the cheapest suit I could find and we rode there on my bike,” you continued the story. Your eyes locked with Wanda’s and she was waiting patiently, ready to devour more of these secret memories you hadn’t shared before. It was comforting to have her look at you so lovingly, so warmly, that you almost forgot.
Natasha’s date didn’t get grounded, he ditched her for some senior and didn’t have the guts to tell her. So, when you showed up to the dance and he was there, Natasha bolted. Even in heels, you swore she ran faster than any Olympic athlete. It didn’t take too long to find her crying in the bathroom, but it did take quite a bit of convincing to get her to go back to the dance and focus on just having a good night.
That night, Natasha swore, was the best night of her life. Dancing till your feet were sore, twirling and jumping around until you got dizzy, laughing like there was nothing that could be funnier… and then…
During the quiet bike ride to drop Natasha off at home, she had you stop at the park where you’d carved your nicknames a few weeks prior. She said she wanted to walk. To make the night last a little longer even if Melina and Alexei would scold her tomorrow for it. You remember the fireflies hovering throughout the park, the green mixing with the pale light from the moon.
Natasha climbed the tree and you followed. She spoke about her favorite poem and how it reminded her of you. She confessed that she’d been having dreams and couldn’t stop thinking about you during class. She came clean about all the times she scared girls away from you because she was worried they were prettier than her. She admitted that she didn’t realize what that meant until you dropped everything, you even quit your after-school job, just to make it to the dance that night. For her.
Then you kissed. A first for you as well as her. The beginnings of love. The start of a secret. You excused yourself once more. The patio out back so you could get some fresh air, leaving Wanda with the only people Natasha had confided in about you.
When you came back something seemed off. It was quiet. Too quiet. You sat next to Wanda, noting that the scrapbooks were all put away. There were four shot glasses filled to the brim with a clear liquid. “I figured now that we’re all adults,” Yelena stood up and went to work passing out the shots. To your surprise, Wanda is the first to down her shot. Soon, Yelena follows as does Melina, leaving you dead last as you lift your glass.
- - -
You’re in the car. This time it’s parked outside your own childhood home. Wanda’s killed the engine by now but hasn’t made the move to go inside. A sign that it’s time to talk. Talk or she’ll push.
“They liked you,” you comment and she sucks her teeth, trying to find a way to approach the topic.
“They missed you,” she said. “Melina made it sound like you hate them now,” she tests the waters.
“I don’t hate them. I love them!” You laugh at the absurdity of the statement, but it quickly dies down when Wanda’s eyes snap to yours.
“You’ve been acting weird again,” she states.
“How could I not? I left because my best friend died,” you breathe out and she shakes her head, sighing.
“It’s not just that though, is it?” Wanda asks without judgment. You watch your fiancé closely and see the worn expression in her eyes. You swore you’d never tell a soul.
“It’s nothing,” you try again and Wanda won’t buy it.
“What happened?”
- - -
Steve finally parked the car outside of Peggy’s and you cringed seeing a familiar head of red hair in James Barnes’ truck.
“See Steve? That’s how you get the ladies,” Same joked and Steve scoffed.
“They’re already dating, Sam,” he reminded the man and you faked a laugh, exiting the car as fast as you could.
“And you could be too if you just-“ You shut your door and your ability to hear the rest of Sam’s quip, taking quick steps towards the Carter household. You walk in to smoke, blaring music, and a gross amount of horny teenagers. Weaving through the crowd you find the alcohol, taking a red solo cup and filling it to the brim with the jungle juice on the counter. You’d made your rounds with the dance floor, the group of stoners in the backyard, and Peggy’s group of friends before you saw Natasha and James walk in. His shirt was sloppy and the collar was stretched out from someone gripping it too tight or pulling it down. You cringed not wanting to think of either. When they joined your group, James began talking to Steve and Natasha through her arm around your shoulders.
“Having fun?” she leaned close to your ear, making sure you could understand her over the music. A quick shrug and a tight-lipped smile were enough to dodge her and make your rounds again. This time, she interrupted you when you were smoking with the stoners.
“I feel like I haven’t seen you at all,” she remarked and you let out a convincing laugh.
“It’s a crazy party with a lot of fun people. Not sure why you’d miss little old me,” you joke and she rolls her eyes.
“How can I not miss my favorite person?” she laughs lightheartedly. Only a few minutes pass until she’s pulling you away from the group and over towards the side of the house. You almost fall for it again until you see a dark hickey just under her collarbone. You try to pull away, but Natasha’s grip is strong enough to keep you in place.
“Stop. I don’t want to do this anymore,” you say and she frowns.
“What? It’s not like I like him,” Natasha says. You roll your eyes.
“From the looks of it I think you like him just fine,” you say bitterly and she’s taken aback.
“Where is this coming from?” She asks softly, letting go of you. You knew she wanted to keep it a secret until she was ready to come out. She never mentioned that her plan included having a fake boyfriend. Worse was that James was head over heels for her. Just like you.
“You know what? Let’s dance,” She takes your hand quickly, pulling you along. “Can’t give me a nickname like tiny dancer and expect me to ignore a dance floor,” Natasha batted her eyelashes playfully and you began to crack. A half smile at her insistence and the bitterness of knowing it was a distraction. A bandaid rather than an actual fix for the problem.
“Tasha…” you say weakly and she ignores it, shutting the sliding door behind you and walking towards the center of the dancing sea of bodies. It’s crowded, uncoordinated, and entirely uncouth, but you join in regardless. It reminded you of last year when you went to the dance and she confessed her love for you. Hanging on to broken threads you began to dance with her. With Natasha.
- - -
“What happened after that?” Wanda asked.
“We made a mistake… and then everything fell apart.”
- - -
James found you. Of all the people that could’ve walked in it had to be James. Natasha may have been taking the lead, but it was you he was yelling at. Of course, it would be you. He confided in you about his feelings for Natasha years before he asked her out. More than that, you knew his last relationship ended because he got cheated on.
For as much as he could be open about his past platonically, he could not do so with his romantic interests.
Almost everyone had left, but the screaming summoned Peggy from the depths of nowhere which, in turn, had Steve hot on her heels. There it was… Natasha’s precious secret was out in the open. She was still covering your naked body with her own when James stormed out, cursing left and right as he pulled his car keys from his pocket. Natasha pulled her hoodie and shorts on. Then, she followed James, knowing just how drunk he was.
You were still reeling and clutching the sheet to your chest. Peggy asked Steve to go wait in the hall and closed the door. Tears were streaming down your face and you were sobbing as Peggy approached you. She had the same careful steps as someone who had found a wild animal in their house. You both heard the truck roar to life and drive off. You flinched at the squeak of the tires, but let out a breath of relief as you heard Steve’s heavy steps rushing down the stairs.
That was the last time you saw Natasha Romanoff alive.
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monacotrophywife · 17 hours
Text
because in discussion with @blorbocedes i remembered this wip existed and it will never make it out of the gdocs in its entirety but i am hormonal as fuck and liked this - have a deeply sappy, self indulgent brocedes wedding. (the fic is actually about them getting divorced lmao) *
Even Toto is crying, Nico thinks with a hysterical kind of laugh threatening to escape his throat. He remembers the first lunch with Toto, when this all started again: he’d stared at them as though he was trying to remember whether he left the front door unlocked, as though they were speaking a slightly different language. He got the sense Toto had wanted to give them the talk, or a talk - don’t be shit on steroids - but he hadn’t. Years later, when they told him they were getting married, he’d said nothing for a second, then pulled them both into a neck-shattering hug at the same time, and said, accent thick with emotion: “Good. That’s good.” 
And now he’s there, eyes shiny, next to Susie, who’s gazing at them with the kind of love and pride Nico wishes he could let seep into his bones. He’s proud of them, too. He turns to Lewis, and he’s -
Lewis doesn’t cry often. He calls it a stiff upper lip. Nico called it repression, then, but now he just reminds Lewis it would be okay, if he did. He’s standing there now, though, custom Kenneth Nicholson suit, a piece of white racesuit sewn into the sleeve, and a pair of pearl studs in his ears, and there are tears tracking down his cheeks like tiny rivers of silver in the afternoon light. He’s smiling.
Nico chokes up, again, for the fifteenth time today, and Lewis’s eyes crinkle, a little. “C’mon, Nico. Keep it together.” he says, in a fake-whisper, and George barks a wet laugh from somewhere a couple of rows back. Nico shakes his head, not trusting himself to speak, but he’s smiling too. They’re all smiling, this band of people they’ve trusted to be here with them under the setting Mykonos sun.
The ceremony is short. Keke does a reading that Nico has to stare hard at the floor for, and Lewis clutches his hand so tightly it begins to hurt. They spend the evening in a small open-ended courtyard which looks out over the Aegean Sea, slowdance to Nina Simone’s To Love Somebody. Nico buries his face in Lewis’s neck and cries, again. It feels like the end of something as much as it does the start, aching and hopeful at once, and he feels his chest heaving with it as they sway, their little congregation watching on with hands clasped to their chests. Lewis presses a kiss to his ear.
So quietly only Nico can hear, he whispers, voice just above a rumble in the way he knows makes Nico stupid even now: “How drunk are you?” 
Nico grins, sniffing. Lewis has always known how to pull him out of his head.
“Not too drunk, if that’s what you’re asking.” 
Lewis pushes Nico’s head back so he can see his face, holds him at arm’s length, casts his eyes down at Nico’s shirt, unbuttoned now and creased, and licks his lips, intentional. “Oh, I’m asking.”
Then he leans forward and presses his forehead to Nico’s, and they sway until gradually, others join them on the cobbles. 
They don’t live up to their promises, though. When they make it back to the suite, the sky is already losing its inky blue, a thin sliver of pink creeping over the sea. Nico watches Lewis remove his jewellery, everything except one careful platinum band, as though he’s moving through treacle, his face hurting from smiling.
“Come here, please.” 
Lewis smiles back at him, easy, places his shirt on the chair first, then the trousers. “Wait a sec.”
“I don’t want to wait.” Nico says, pouting, and Lewis mock-gasps. “Demanding. I’ve married someone bossy. I’ve basically married Toto.”
Nico yelps. “Lewis!” He just gets a cackle in response, followed by Lewis draping himself, compact and warm, along the side of Nico’s body. 
They kiss, slow and lazy, for a few minutes, but it doesn’t go anywhere: Nico’s hands stay on Lewis’s face, fingertips tracing his shoulder. Lewis’s mouth stays on Nico’s, soft. 
“I know - it’s stupid, it’s our wedding night, but I'm -” Lewis says, hesitantly. Nico laughs into Lewis’s neck. “No, I know. Me too.”
“Tomorrow. I’ll make it up to you.” Lewis says fervently, leaning to bite gently into Nico’s lip like a promise. Nico kisses Lewis’s nose back. “Mmm. Do you want to pick a year?”
“Now?” 
“Just to fall asleep to. We don’t need to see the end. I think we’ve seen them all now anyway.” 
A long-held tradition: they’d started it in their teens, picking the races carefully from the available stacks of VHS tapes Nico found in Keke’s office. Then later, with every race available online, they’d taken it in turns to pick a year, the other picking the circuit. It was part competition - who remembered the podium, who remembered the strategy, who remembered the winner - and part dissection, making their own pronouncements about pitstop timings and tyre choices, analysing overtakes. More often than not they’d disagree - that was part of it, too, Nico suddenly becoming McLaren’s most ardent supporter, just because Lewis had disagreed with a two-stop, Lewis renouncing all previous allegiances to defend Red Bull’s team orders if Nico took the opposite stance.
“2003,” Lewis says, voice easy. Nico snorts, racking his brains. “A connoisseur’s choice. I’ll say Hungary.”
Lewis snorts back knowingly. They know them all now. Nico scrolls through, finding the race, and lets Lewis pull him back tightly into his body, hook his chin over Nico’s shoulder to watch.
“Did you pick this because Michael doesn’t win?” Lewis says, sleepy, into his ear. Nico huffs.
“I can’t believe you’d think that of me.”
“Okay, did you pick it because Fernando does?”
Nico laughs now, exhausted and delirious. “Yes. Just to annoy you.”
Lewis nods into his neck. “I love you too. This is the one where Villeneuve has -”
“Hydraulic failure, I know.”
“I know you know.”
They're asleep before the first round of fuel stops.
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emilycollins00 · 3 days
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Hiii I don't know if you would write it (it's okay if you don't) but to change the tone a bit, could you do a list of toxic traits/red flags of the troupes members? I saw it in another fandom and thought it would be interesting! love your stuff btw
Thank you for waiting love!! 💕 That said, hope you are still around aksdjkdn it's been a while.
I wasn’t sure if you meant in a relationship or just in general, so I went with the flow a bit and did whatever felt more suitable for each at the time (hence why some are longer)
Warning: I focused on showing bad traits and exploiting them so my apologies if any fan doesn’t like what I chose, don’t take it too much to heart!
A3! and their toxic traits
Sakuya – Conflict avoidance / Insecure
He definitely struggles to voice what he wants and needs because he’s afraid of upsetting people or his patner, which leads to Sakuya never deciding anything.
Afraid of rejection, instead of addressing conflicts or expressing his feelings openly, he tends to retreat into silence, limiting himself to smile, and definitely avoids discussing certain topics.
Of course, when there’s a fight he never wants to argue. Not to say he’ll just apologize, but he will try to find a solution (even if it doesn’t make much sense) to pretend it’s all good and everyone is content when in reality, it’s not.
Itaru – Childish / Half-assed
Has a tendency to talk about people behind their back when they do something that upsets him, instead of talking it out.
Sometimes going out with him feels like babysitting. He tends to complain if he’s in a place he didn’t want to be. It’s his day off and you two already saw one another three days ago, couldn’t he just have stayed at home?
Incredibly bad memory when it comes to remembering special occasions but try asking him when is the birthday of his favorite character… or maybe don’t.
Masumi – Overly intense / Tunnel focus
This boy’s downfall are relationships. Masumi has incredibly intense feelings – that’s no surprise, so when he finally falls the beginning is perfect, almost fairytale like.
But then he asks opinions about choosing a wedding venue. Asks about a having kids. When going to the store he even begins to look for baby clothes. First week gone and he’ll want to meet with in-laws. Want to move in together.
He loves so much that it’s overbearing and doesn’t realize how pressuring he is – how fast he’s willing to move everything. Still, what’s there to think? Their partner must want the same thing.
Chikage – Righteous / Emotionally Distant
Being with him, whether it’s in a romantic relationship or friendship, is emotionally draining.
While people pour everything they have into their relationships, Chikage, aside from the people from Mankai, won't even be half as invested. And all the time, patience, and effort that should've come from both parties is off unbalance which ofc turns into an eventual distance.
IF he’s ever confronted about it he sighs, because as expected, it now has become a tiring task for him. People know he’s usually like this. Why getting angry or bothered by his persona? It’s not like he was lying or anything to anyone.
Tsuzuru – Workaholic/ Untrustworthy
I think at first his relationships would be great. Tsuzuru does try to make time for friends/partners/family after all.
But sooner than later, he’s again cramped up with scriptwriting, uni, work... you name it.  People notice the pressure he’s under, so he’s usually proposed to take a break, to go with someone somewhere, but he just doesn’t listen. 
He will be apologetic “I’m so sorry, I have to complete this before the end of... “I forgot we were…” “I’ll make it up to you next time!” and it’s understandable, but he’s always like this.
If anyone insist too much, he might get irritated and snap, and if the person snaps back or leave he does realize how badly he messed up… but half the time, he won’t make a move. He’ll tell himself to talk it later.
Citron – Toxic Positivity / Overthinker
King of no one can be mad if we don’t focus on the issue? A little bit tactless given the situation as well.
And god bless him but while he takes notice if anyone is not feeling well, partner or not, he decides to be absolutely oblivious to their bad moods. If they want to talk about it he doesn’t get it either. Why is everyone upset about it, at least it’s over now!
Doesn’t like taking responsibility for his actions, making excuses to justify his behavior, so he tries to always have others or his partner on his side, just in case.
Tenma – Accusatory / Invasive
Always has something to say, no matter the argument – even if he's clearly the one in the wrong. Instead of working it out rationally, he shifts the blame away and pins it on the other person, guilt-tripping into thinking he's the one compromised.
If others were indeed wrong however, prepare for a non-stop nagging for days to come. If driven by his ego, this will escalate and in eeeevery conflict, this will be brought up.
In a relationship Tenma thinks he has the right to intervene in his partner’s personal affairs, meaning if they have something going on or someone they have a problem with, he’s going to lash out even if he was asked to leave it alone. What-? Why are you mad? You should be thanking him!
Muku – Pessimist / Passive
He want to know everything about everyone and in a relationship, his partner is always free to tell him about their problems… but that’s when troubles begin.
Overly sensitive, and when stresses he’s the type to blame himself in any situation which makes dealing with him kind of exhausting after a while.
That said, despite his kind self, Muku is overly passive in his communication. He often avoids direct confrontation, leading to unresolved issues which given his pessimistic nature as well have him tensed all the time awaiting when his actions might turn against him.
Since it really always his fault, you don’t have to remind him.
Misumi – Uncommunicative / Dismissive
Misumi, as many here, has a tendency to avoid confrontation and suppress his emotions, leading to communication barriers and unresolved issues in any type of relationship.
As it goes, this lack of communication prevents any relationship from progressing and resolving underlying issues, creating a stiff dynamic... at least from other people's view, since Misumi likes to get over things quickly and expects everyone to do the same. A little bit tactless in that sense.
This includes having a hard time taking the blame. He wants it to be on everyone. Even if it’s his fault, the closest anyone’s ever going to get is: Mmm we all said and did things we shouldn’t, right? let’s try to move on!
Kumon – Overwhelming / Unattentive
He doesn’t even know he usually speaks over or interrupts others but definitely knows he has the need to protect their partner.
He’s so deluded into thinking he’s doing a good thing by pulling their partner away from the slightest danger. Sidewalk is too crowded? He’ll insist to walk on the busy road. Too hot today? Maybe it’s better to stay inside. He pulls everyone away every time he thinks they are close to getting hurt. At first it’s nice, but does become suffocating.
And if it's his partner tells him they don’t need his help, he’ll laugh before assisting anyway.
In general relations sometimes he will not stop even if you can’t keep up with him if he’s too excited. He’s just go go go all the time.
Kazunari – Liar / Dependant
On one hand Kazunari knows he can be completely honest with his partner, but he can’t differentiate between being honest in a way that supports a healthy relationship without… sometimes being honest in a way where he says something to hurt their feelings. So yeah, he sometimes lies.
He also involuntarily crosses boundaries (no consent in certain lives, photos uploaded…) and suffocates with constant attention. He struggles with trust issues too, constantly seeking validation from his partner or others to alleviate his insecurities.
This behavior in the end becomes draining if he’s in a relationship, as his partner feels trapped and unable to maintain their independence.
Yuki – Non-existent filter / Accusatory
During intense moments of blinding anger, Yuki jabs out everything he thinks without ever sugarcoating it, and there really isn't much to stop that.
Also maybe because while logical most of the time, he’s a bit short-tempered in certain situations (especially when stressed), so if provoked or at least he feels recriminated, he'll say some really hurtful things, insecurities that people took time to open up to with him.
If something goes wrong and he’s not in the fault he’s quick to complain as well. He already knew what was going to happen, so why did everyone insist on doing it? And why would anyone think he will sympathise afterwards? 
Banri – Expectations / Charge
Wants to be in charge of everything. Prone to micromanaging their partner while stubbornly refusing to ask for help even if it’s obvious,
He has so much going on that if anyone crosses him, romantic relationship or not, Banri will play with the “I will leave if you want”. Because he would leave and he wouldn’t even feel regretful.
Because of his good memory and capacities, he tends to wait for people to catch things quickly. He didn’t bring coffee to class and expects people to know that he drank it on the way because morning rehearsal was rough. He didn’t answer anyone’s text so he expected everyone to know that needs revision – to him, that stuff is easy. What? No one knew? He always does similar details for everyone – he shouldn’t have to say it out loud every time.
Specially his partner. They should know what he’s thinking in these moments. If they don’t, maybe they didn’t love him as much as they said.
Taichi – Jealous / Low self-esteem
This boy lacks confidence in himself and the relationship no matter the type.
Catches himself thinking how everyone is much better than him – and in a relationship he’s scared his partner would leave him for anyone. Makes sense. They are perfect and kind, he’s just... him.
Of course he would want to be with their partner all the time, very clingy and overly emotional when arguing with him or when they tell him off. Might have taken a look or two at his partner's notifications of messages. He felt bad after though, he promises!
Juza – Self-esteem / Walls
Usually clueless about what he’s doing wrong and can’t seem to know how much effort to put into a new relationship, romantic or not. It could be days of not talking with him or him not answering just because he didn’t know if it would feel abrasive.
So yeah, I wouldn’t say he’s blinded by his anxieties and worries but then again, it’s not like he’ll ever talk about it with anyone either.
In a relationship, Juza wouldn’t think they love him enough to stay if he reveals all his insecurities. In his eyes, his partner will leave him one day, he knows it. They are too good for someone like him.
Sakyo –  Rigid / Controlling
Exceedingly strict but only when it’s related to him. Like, he doesn’t pick up the phone during work time because that wouldn’t be professional of him, yet when he’s with others? He continues mentioning work-related stuff or leaves to take calls.
There’s also certain controlling behavior in his romantic relationships. While he may initially come across as caring and devoted, his need for control becomes evident as the relationship progresses, leading to feelings of suffocation and resentment.
When in a fight, Sakyo is rough with his words and has to have the last word no matter what. His anger also lasts for days and the silent treatment is a huge thing. Will act like nothing has happened after that.
Omi -  Low esteem / Unwillingness to commit
This man's steps on eggshells with relationships, romantic or not. Omi is terrified to let anyone in and see their eyes judging.
In a relationship he’s too scared to show how much he loves his partner and honestly that very own cautiousness, that unwillingness to fall, hurts more than he realizes.
Omi is also someone who never expresses complicated feelings, either. He might just need time, but never asks for any.
People are left feeling like they might only be in the relationship because he doesn’t want to hurt their feelings. When asked he hesitates, which hurts the most. He can’t seem to understand he needs to let himself go. This happens again and again because in the end, Omi decides that it’s best to not fall at all – he doesn’t need another scar.
Azami – Extreme / Overly guarded
Azami is prude but as he grows, he becomes not so… accepting.
He scoffs wherever he sees something he doesn’t approve, and if in a relationship their partner wants to hold his hand, he’ll rip it away and lecture them angrily about how it might look to others. You should know by now.
As such, he tends to be emotionally distant and closed-off in all relationships. He struggles and often avoids discussing his feelings or concerns.
This emotional guardedness creates insecurity in the relationships, as many feel like they are unable to connect with him on a deeper level. His reluctance to open up leads to communication misunderstandings as well.
Their partner or friends must not love him, that’s the only reason he can think of – but he won’t show his fear of that possibility.
Tsumugi – Distracted / People pleaser
This young man doesn’t make it on purpose, which is all the way down frustrating.
He will have periods of time where he’s attentive to everyone, and in a relationship his partner is his number one priority.
Others becomes overly focused on his own pursuits, leaving little time or energy for nurturing any type of relationship. When he notices, he becomes again hyper attentive, doing anything for the relationship to not deteriorate.
But since additionally Tsumugi struggles to communicate effectively about his emotions and decisions, this leads to more distance to grow.
Hisoka – Ghosting / Short-tempered
Honestly he doesn’t look into the care and delicacy relationships take. Doesn’t answer messages nor call and if he does it’s quick and short.
He’s sparse with his attention. No, he doesn’t want to go out, partner, friend, or whatever should stop asking. Also it’s becoming annoying. When in a fight, if he finds it’s not important, it will always seem like he doesn’t care about anything.
Hisoka won’t compromise either, he won’t be more attentive, he doesn’t want to be, that’s too much work. And if they try to force it? Then people just don’t get him and probably just want to change him.
People unwllingness to accept and understand who he is only proves to him that this specific relationship whatever people what to call it, wasn’t meant to be, so he shrugs it off.
Azuma – Façade / Bottling emotions
No matter what, he refuses to share information about himself and can’t keep everything equal, whether you are a friend or his partner.
If there’s a feeling like something is off, and anyone mentions it rather than admitting what’s on his mind he’ll simply say that it’s fine, that all is good and perfect, and then proceed to bury it even deeper within him.
Azuma keeps burying his feelings in and trying not to resent whatever is causing him like this more and more until one day something happens and his emotions erupt out of him and he’s crying or worse, leaves for some time.
If anyone wants to know where he’s been, well, good luck trying to figure it out.
Tasuku – Rough / Absent-minded
Prioritizes his own needs and desires above others, resulting in selfish and insensitive behavior. I can’t imagine Tasuku changing his routine to fit someone else in, lover or not.
To him it’s pretty straightforward If someone doesn’t fall into sync with him, that’s life and this relationship just wasn’t meant to be. What? Why should he change the time he goes to the gym – shouldn’t his partner just get up earlier if they want to eat breakfast with him?
Or with his friends, sure he gets along, but why should he alter the way his life is, and try to finish rehearsal earlier? He doesn’t get the reason to change and tends to avoid fighting, not just because of cutting contact, but because he doesn’t want to fight with anyone... he doesn’t have time for whatever it is.
Homare – Overly worried / Opinionated
By now everyone should know that he will not give you much space when there’s a problem. He will constantly be asking questions about it and little time does he tries to listen to all versions or if he even should intervene.
And holy molly does he intervene often enough.
Also Homare doesn't get mad almost never, but becomes incredibly distressed when something goes wrong.
He won't say anything when he's feeling like that though. It's hard for him to control his emotions during a difficult time period and usually needs to be comforted to calm down but becomes so difficult when it’s time to allow people into the real him.
Guy – Distant / Trust
If this man ever has any type of problem, most people, partner included, will never know.
It’s not that he’s actively trying to keep things away, but he has no way of knowing that he should be sharing certain things.
Everyone’s held at arm’s length. His partner might think being his partner would make them close, but it’ll feel like he confides in his troupe more than them.
He doesn’t have a good example of what a healthy relationship is supposed to look like, so don’t expect him to do anything romantic unless anyone tells him so. He also doesn’t have a filter, meaning he’s brutally honest. No one should be surprised if he hurts feelings in his monotonous voice.
_______________________________________________________
Hope you all enjoyed it, definitely interesting to think of them in these terms.
Have a wonderful day! 💕💕
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jqhotchner · 2 days
Text
stars
five
yn is super excited for tonight! it was the first night she’d been out in awhile to an award show. she’s been laying low for awhile, trying to make sure what her and aaron had was the real thing.
today she’s heading to the amas with her mom as her date. having told her mother she’s pregnant and her and aaron were getting married, her mom took the first flight out to come watch her baby get married to the man she’s fallen for four years ago.
yn asked her mom to be her date to the ama’s soon after the wedding. her and aaron agreeing to have a proper honeymoon after their baby is born.
yn currently wearing a beautiful red gown her mother picked out. she felt really grateful she wasn’t showing just yet. she wasn’t ready to tell the world that she’s pregnant, wanting to at least have her album come out first before spilling all the beans on her life.
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“rihanna! rihanna! over here!” yn looks over and waves at the photographers. she’s holding her moms hand as she walks from one place to another to get her photo taken.
yn smiles and poses as her mom moves out the way for her to have her moment. “we love you, ri!”
“i love you all!” yn blows a kiss.
yn holds her hand out to her mom. she takes it as they walk over to do a few interviews.
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when they got back to the hotel, yn calls aaron immediately. telling him about how amazing it was to be back out there. he listened to her gush about the fans and how much she adores them. aaron loves hearing her talk about her fandom! they meant so much to her.
“how’s the baby?”
yn runs her hand on her stomach with a smile. she knew it was probably in her head—or even just a food belly—but she swears she feels a little bit of a pudge.
“he’s good! barely got sick.”
“he, huh?”
yn blushes. “i just have a feeling it’s a boy. plus i really like the name river.”
aaron chuckles. “river, huh?”
“river road hotchner.”
aaron hums. it’s a nice name, he’ll admit. “and if they’re a girl?”
“melody rene hotchner?”
“already got names for our little one? we’re ahead of the game!”
“it’s just names ive liked for awhile. do you have any?”
“i always like oliver, wes, matt, and kai for a boy.”
“oliver hotchner? that rolls off the tongue well! little ollie for a nickname. oh, what about elizabeth for a girl?! or oliver and oliva for twins.”
aaron laughs. “twins? honey, let’s get through one baby before we think of two.”
“sorry, i just want thousands of little hotchner babies with you!”
“thousands, huh? a whole lotta practicing.”
yn giggle. “well, it’s totally worth it. got a good partner.”
“yeah?”
yn hums. “the best ive ever had.”
aaron scoffs. “big shoes you put on me, babe.”
“big shoes and big co—”
“woah, getting dirty there? is my baby feeling needy?”
yn was feeling extremely needy. it hadn’t been long since her and aaron had sex, but she could never have enough of him. she wasn’t lying when she said he’s the best she’s ever had. aaron took time to learn her body like no other. he made her toes curl each and every time. he truly cared about her and her pleasure.
“im always needy for you, aar. you know that! please don’t tease?”
aaron laughs. “i love teasing you, baby. gets you all hot and bothered, make you sweat, beg for it.”
yn whines through the phone. “aaron!” she whines.
“what could i do for my baby, hmm? what do you need?”
“i want to come home and get fucked, like that time we went to vegas? remember? fucked me like i was just your play toy, your plaything. remember?”
“mhm, remember it like it was last night. i can do that again, baby? i can fuck you like my dirty little slut, huh? when you get back home i can do whatever filthy little things my wife wants.”
“yeah? god, being called your wife has to be one of the biggest turn ons, ever!”
“yeah? my pretty little wife soaked for me?”
yn runs her hands over her body. she gently grazed her hands over her clothed heat.
“i want you, so bad babe.” yn whispers.
“you’ll have me, babe. you’ll have me as soon as you’re home. i promise babe. i would do whatever for you, you know that? it’s why im gonna tell you we’ll finish this up when you get home, yeah? i know when my wife’s more tired than anything.”
yn grunts. she knew he was right though. you’re exhausted and a bit jet lagged. “i love you, husband. my forever.”
“love you too, my star!”
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a/n
clearly i like the name oliver. think it’s beautiful and if i ever have a son his name will be oliver!
if you wanna be added/unadded the taglist don’t hesitate to ask
taglist:
@beata1108
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alagaisia · 9 months
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I’m reminded of that post about how goths and people who wear only lots of pink are actually the same because “wearing only one color” is a specific choice in opposition to just looking Normal
I’m flying to a friend’s wedding today, and I recently acquired from my neighborhood free page a very pretty vintage suitcase in like a brocade upholstery texture in all of my good colors, so of course I needed a coordinated airport outfit à la Midge Maisel. You guys don’t know me, but I usually dress very put together, in what my sister calls Outfits, with a capital O to distinguish it from just wearing clothes. And since getting a full time job I’ve been slowly adding to my collection of vintage and 50’s-vibes clothes, because I just really like that aesthetic (my bridesmaid dress for the wedding is a vintage tea dress I got from Etsy. The fabric is in great condition but I had to reinforce pretty much every seam with my sewing machine, because the structural integrity of the original thread was breaking down, so that was an interesting learning experience).
All of which is to say that I Dressed Up for the airport in a vintage-y outfit that coordinates perfectly with some of the colors of my suitcase, and my hair is curled, and I have a vintage leather purse that my grandma gave me that matches her watch that I’m wearing and the shoes she bought me last summer at the same vintage store that my skirt came from, and a teenage-ish girl with whatever you call the 2023 teenage equivalent of emo/punk vibes, like the dark maroon mullet and not a lot of makeup and dark comfy clothes but like, very on purpose, told me I look cool when I walked past on the way to security
And like, she Gets It! We have different fashion goals but I think we put a similar degree of intention into the way we look compared to just wearing regular clothes. Which is cool! It’s validating. Not that I really need validation, but it’s always nice to get compliments, of course. And the way I dress is really not terribly distinctive most of the time, other than being Outfits and a little dressier than maybe the norm is, like I think most people who see me one time in passing would see that I look Nice but not necessarily see it as a cultivated Look. But punk mullet girl gets it.
#struggled with not sounding *too* pretentious here#I don’t feel pretentious but I have a hard time talking about like. specific choices and things in any detail#like to my friends I just said what happened with a picture of my outfit and was like ‘and she gets it!’ and they were like ‘yeah!’#but to strangers I have to go into much more detail to get the point across#even though really it’s not like I’m putting all of that into it every day I just get up and go ‘i want to look nice today’#in accordance with my personal fashion preferences#and then having to explain those preferences like ‘my name is alagaisia midge maisel darkness way and I’m wearing vintage whatever’#i do look so cute though#i got these shoes last summer and then lost the heel cap off of one of them the very first time i wore them#finally took them in to have them fixed last week so I could wear them to the wedding#needed a deadline so that I would actually get around to it#i hate flying it’s really a testament of how much I love my friend that I’m flying#instead of driving ten hours to Nebraska#but it made more sense and to make sure i won’t be late or run into car trouble or anything#and I’ll stay looking nice right away instead of getting gross and sweaty in the car or having to change for bachelorette activities#i only know the bride so I’m definitely going to make a very specific impression on all of these strangers lol#i joked with my dad about adopting a trans Atlantic accent for the whole weekend just for shits and giggles#turns out you cannot do it over the top. have you ever listened to JFK’s ‘we choose to go to the moon’ speech#it’s very silly sounding#we had a good time saying things one might say at a bachelorette party in a goofy voice#‘we cho~ose to ohdah thihs maiule strippah… ahnd the othah things.. nawt becahse it is easyh..#but becawhse he is hahd’#highly recommend#mine#personal
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apricotluvr · 2 years
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Listen
#on Wednesday I have a really busy work day and a friends wedding. the whole morning I’ll be at a seminar / training (on location… kinda#miss COVID times when we could just do those on teams) and then I have to rush to the office bc I have office hours until 5 pm#so like I said I have a wedding but like… I don’t know what time or which location (or even city)… my friend let me know about the wedding#like 2 weeks ago so by then I couldn’t ask for a day off from work. then she asked for my address to send me the wedding invitation but i#haven’t received it. we messaged and she asked if I had gotten it in the mail but I said no and asked her to send me a pic of the#invitation and she hasn’t responded :/ I even let her know I have appointments until 5 and said I wanna see if a coworker can maybe do my#last few appointments so like…#I know she’s busy and having ur wedding in a few days must be stressful but if ur gonna invite a friend and she asks for information about#the party. u should send it to her… these days I’m sure anyone who’s throwing any kind of party has the invitation / information on their#phone anyway so idk she could just send it to me quickly right…?#idk man cuz if I’m done at 5 pm (and that’s only if I’m lucky and my appointments are finished on time) . I would still need to get ready#dress scarf make up . and since I don’t even know the location. who knows how long I’d have to drive there . plus I don’t actually wanna go#alone. I wanna take my mum w me so I was actually hoping I would be able to drive back home (25 min) and then go#ugh I’m just frustrated
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apathyfairy · 2 years
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well this week has taught me that life is fucking sad as shit and that’s just the way it is like not that i didn’t already know that but life is fucking miserable
#god dude. old people are SO goddamn sad.#like i said it’s my uncles dad who died and so his mom is left behind and like#i’ve known them since i was like idk 8? and we used to go over to their house for dinner#like every single weekend or they would go over to my uncles house and wed all have dinner or whatever#when my cousins were really little and we all lived in the same place and anyway. she just loves me to death like she always has#and she’s like me where if she hates u u absolutely know it skjsb but she just has always loved me so much#and i havent seen her in maybe like idk 11 years? something like that and all weekend she was just hugging me and like i’m so So glad you#came and i’m like so am i like jesus fuck she’s breaking my heart#and my uncle is an only child like me and he and my aunt and cousins live in california and she’s here in texas all alone now and it’s like.#god. and tonight we were at her house and they have two cats and she was like ‘yeah she’s our baby. . she’s My baby.’ and i’m like good god#just kill me on the spot it’s just SO fucking SAD. dude i don’t ever want to fucking get old never i’ve lost one ex boyfriend and literally#that still breaks my heart every single day i can’t even fucking fathom what it’s like to lose your husband of 54 fucking years.#life is just bullshit man i hate it i hate it i hate it#anyway i’m driving home tomorrow driving in texas is scary as shit and idk how anyone lives here full time
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kingkonoha · 4 months
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𝐍𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐘 𝐇𝐀𝐁𝐈𝐓𝐒!
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♡ — 𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: JJK men & their nasty, perverted habits . . . ft. gojo, geto, nanami, toji, & choso.
♡ — 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓: MINORS DNI — fem! reader, reader wears a dress, drinking, smut, grinding, whining, riding, masturbation, panty stealing, touching, creampie, penetration, unprotected, etc.
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𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐒𝐘! - NANAMI
Kento Nanami is a gentleman.
He always opens doors for you, never shows up late for dates, and is truly an old-fashioned romantic.
However, he just can’t keep his hands to himself.
The two of you are attending an important gathering related to his corporate job. There’s expensive drinks, classical music, and soft chatter.
You and Nanami make your way around, engaging in small talk while sipping on champagne, and Nanami’s large hand is pressed against your back.
You’re having a conversation with the wife of his boss, and Nanami’s hand starts to go lower and lower, and he grabs your ass rather quickly. You keep your composure, but Nanami’s breath hitches a bit as he clears his throat.
Feeling your ass, even just for a second, was starting to make him lose control.
“Sorry, if you’ll excuse us for a moment,” Nanami suddenly says before dragging you away.
He takes you into one of the bathrooms and shoves you up against the sink.
“Kento,” you whine. “We’re at a gathering.”
“I know,” he whispers into your ear. “I just can’t keep my hands off of you.”
Nanami starts to grind his hard, clothed dick against your ass, moaning softly.
You simply looked too phenomenal in that dress. As his hard cock strains painfully against the fabric of his pants, the only form of relief came when your ass rubbed against it.
“We need to leave,” he grips your hips, pressing himself against you even more as you gripped the edges of the bathroom counter. “If I don’t take you home now, I’ll cum right in my pants.”
𝐁𝐑𝐄𝐄𝐃𝐄𝐑! - GOJO
Satoru Gojo was ready to stuff you with his seed as soon as you both made it home after your wedding.
He had often dreamed about having children with you, but in particular, he wanted to fill you up until he couldn’t physically cum anymore.
Gojo thrusted in and out of you at a quick pace. His hand was pressed underneath your knee as he held your leg back, as close to your chest as he could. You could feel him inside of you even more that way. The thick veins running along his cock rubbed your walls deliciously, and the way your body jerked from his thrusts were starting to make you dizzy.
And he couldn’t get enough. By now, he had finished inside of you already, but he had to do it a second time. Perhaps, a third time as well.
His balls tightened as another orgasm started to overwhelm him, and he groaned.
“I’m gonna cum again, baby,” he warned. “I’m gonna cum deep inside of you. You’re gonna take it all for me, right?”
You nodded eagerly.
“I gotta fill you up — I have to.” As another load of his cum shot out of his aching dick and inside of you, he pressed a hand down against your stomach.
“You feel it?” He continued to thrust and moan. He needed to stuff you as much as he could. “You feel my cum, don’t you?”
“There’s so much of it,” you said with a soft moan.
He was still cumming and cumming, and it didn’t seem like he would ever stop. And, god, he hoped he wouldn’t somehow.
𝐃𝐈𝐑𝐓𝐘 𝐌𝐎𝐔𝐓𝐇! - GETO
Suguru Geto was a man who always knew what to say. His words were always powerful and wise.
They were also downright filthy, too.
No matter where you both were — at dinner in a nice restaurant, in the movie theater, at the airport — Geto couldn’t help but press his lips against your ear, and whisper something he knew would get your panties wet.
Today in particular, you were both at the grocery store, waiting in line patiently with a cart full of food.
Suddenly, Geto pressed himself against your backside. To nearby shoppers, he simply seemed like an affectionate partner, but you knew what was coming.
Geto leaned down a bit, his warm breath patting against your ear.
“Let’s head home after this. I really wanna eat your pussy before dinner. Let’s see how much of your cum I can swallow.”
“Suguru,” you whispered softly. “We’re in public.”
“No one can hear me, sweet girl. I bet I could reach my hand into your pants and rub your clit, and no one would notice. You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”
“I-”
“Shhh,” he smiled a bit, although you couldn’t see it. “Don’t worry. I’ll wait until we get home, but once we do, we’re gonna fuck and fuck all night long.”
He gave your ear a slow, little lick, and stepped away from you, grinning as he started to put the groceries on the conveyor belt.
𝐖𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐘! - CHOSO
“Please,” a soft, desperate whine fell from Choso’s lips. “Make me cum again, please.”
The gorgeous guy started to squirm around beneath you, attempting to raise his hips, chasing the feeling of your tight cunt around him.
“Ride me again,” Choso gripped your hips. “Please ride me again.”
He couldn’t wait any longer. Slowly, he started to glide you up and down along his cock, moaning softly.
“You’re so impatient,” you teased. Despite your words, you helped him out by pressing your hands against his chest, and riding him once again.
“Oh my god,” Choso whispered. “Feels so good. Don’t stop, okay? I need to cum again.”
Your pussy milked his cock until he could no longer form any coherent sentences.
“Baby, please . . . shit, baby. I can’t hold it, I can’t- please, oh fuck.”
Moan after moan fell from between his pretty lips, and without warning — he couldn’t speak well enough to say anything — Choso shot another load of cum right inside of you.
You both paused to catch your breath, but not for long, as Choso started to squirm around once again.
“Another,” he whined softly. “Don’t stop, please. Do it again . . . I wanna cum again.”
𝐏𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐘 𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐀𝐋𝐄𝐑! - TOJI
When Toji Fushiguro asked to come to your house, you thought nothing of it.
It wasn’t unusual for him to come over, but little did you know, he had a habit of snooping around.
He liked to see what kind of things you had in your home, and eventually, he knew by heart what brand of toothpaste you preferred and whether you kept certain condiments in the fridge or in the cabinet.
But, his favorite place to snoop was in your bedroom.
Often, he’d say, “I’m gonna go piss,” while getting up from the couch and making his way down the hall. But he never went into the bathroom.
He’d go into your bedroom instead and open your drawer, growing hard at the sight of your undergarments.
He’d typically just steal one pair of panties and shove them into his pocket.
But it wasn’t good enough.
After all, your underwear smelled like detergent. It didn’t smell like you — or, more specifically, your sweet pussy.
That was when he snuck into your laundry room and went into your dirty clothes hamper, digging until he found the perfect pair of used panties.
He shoved them into his pocket, and returned to the living room.
Later on, when he got home, he put those panties right into his mouth, jerking off as he daydreamed about eating your pussy. It was magical, especially now that he knew how it would taste.
Then, he laced those panties around his hard cock, fucking his fist as he shot load after load into the soft material, moaning your name as he did so.
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🏷: @sad-darksoul
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yamujiburo · 1 year
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HANAMUSA (JESSIExDELIA) MASTER POST
I probably should have started doing this forever ago but I wasn’t sure how long I was gonna stick with drawing these comics. But I guess we’re in it now! This will be continually updated~ EVERYTHING UNDER THE CUT
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BEFORE YOU START:
This post is required reading about Team Rocket’s ages since that’s usually a question that comes up a lot LOL. As for Delia’s age, she is said to be 29 in Takeshi Shudo’s (original writer on Pokémon) novel that built out the world and characters of the anime.
Next, I feel like this chart helps give the vibe of what these characters relationship is (all just headcanons except for their names and ages)!
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WHERE TO START:
Here’s a post I made detailing how Jessie, James and Meowth initially start living with Delia. It also goes into what each character does in this AU. Before going into the post, you might enjoy this fanfic my girlfriend commissioned! It’s based off of said post and is a more enjoyable read.
Here’s also a list of headcanons!
COMICS:
Here’s all the comics I’ve done! The order of most of them are pretty ambiguous and up in the air but I put them in the order I kinda see in my head! There are some that do take place before Jessie and Delia start dating though! Also a few comics that have several parts but the “next” and “prev” links will be in each comic. So I’ll only link the first part of those ones in this masterpost.
Pre-Relationship
Ophidiophobia
Hairbrush
Whipped
Inquiries
Separated
First Kiss
During Relationship
Big Bed
Crumbs
Pet Clown
I’d Like To
Jessica
Lipstick (not a comic but some fun extra dialogue for this)
Glow
Official
Stare Down
Shovel Talk
Invisible Walls
Date Night
Face Blind
One Motto Away
Snowgasboard
Delia’s Got a Cold
Mr. Jessie Ketchum
Peek-At-Chu
Hands Off Pikachu!
Wine Nights with James
Beauty and the Beach
Turning Point Arc
Sunscreen
Where Do Babies Come From
Love Life
Ugly
Ace Trainers
Pikasitting
Mother’s Day
Father’s Day
Gift for Delia
Gift for Jessie
Jessilina Fan
Crossdressing
Hickeys
Journey Arc
Tone
Cooking Twerp
Son
Cooking Advice
Serperior Facts
Cassidy’s Cabin Arc
Father/Son Bonding
Glasses
Uniform
Happy Valentine’s Day
Wrapped
Daddy Daughter Double Battle
Splinter
Married Life
Wedding
Arbok/Weezing Reunion
Snake Eyes
MISC DRAWINGS:
I’ll update this with links to my other miscellaneous drawings later! 
FAQ:
What does "Hanamusa" mean?
Hanamusa is a combination of Delia and Jessie's Japanese names, Hanako and Musashi respectively.
When does this AU take place?
It takes place sometime after the Mezase Pokémon Master/To Be a Pokémon Master series. So all the events that happened in the series, unless retconned within the series, happened. Ash is 10 at the start of the comics.
What's the status between Jessie, James, Meowth and Giovanni/Team Rocket?
Not great terms since they were fired, but also not the worst terms. Giovanni just let the three of them go without any further issues. I will say that I've always loved the theory that Giovanni keeps Jessie specifically around because of her parentage and he as a soft spot for her that he keeps a secret. I feel like Matori was the one that got the three of them fired and Giovanni wasn't able to make an excuse for them this time (without showing nepotism/special treatment) so he was forced to let them go.
If you headcanon Delia as a lesbian, how did Ash come to be?
Delia was young when she had Ash and I hc that she just didn’t really explore her sexuality much! I myself didn’t realized I liked women until I was 18 and didn’t know I liked ONLY women until like 2 years ago. She got married, had a baby and realized after her husband left that she liked women (trans people exist obviously but I’m also interpreting Ash’s father as a cis man).
Who do you think Ash’s dad is?
I don’t know and I don’t really care to explore it. I’m going off of the novel interpretation that he’s just a deadbeat that left to be a trainer, failed and never came back because of the shame. He’s not important.
Isn’t Giovanni Ash’s dad?
That’s a common misconception that people remember wrong from the Pokémon Live show. Delia mentions she dated Giovanni but then left him and his gang after meeting Ash’s father. I also don’t consider the live show canon personally! I follow The Birth of Mewtwo timeline where Madame Boss founded Team Rocket.
Do you think Delia and Giovanni dated at least?
Nah, I think he’s too old for her? I always got the vibe from The Birth of Mewtwo that he was quite a bit older than Jessie and it’d be sus if he was dating Delia when she was married to, and had a child with her husband at 18/19. He’s a bad guy but not a BAD guy.
You mentioned you still ship Jessie and James. Why not make a Jessie, James, Delia polycule?
I have a few reasons I’ve mentioned before! 1. I’m in super deep with this AU already and I feel it’d be very confusing for casual viewers of my stuff if James was added into the relationship haha. 2. I’ve drawn Jessie and James together since 2011 and took this AU as an opportunity to try my hand at writing them as queer, platonic besties bc I love that interpretation of them a lot as well. 3. I’m not poly myself and the way I write this ship is largely based off of my experiences with my girlfriend. I just know I’d favor the Jessie/Delia of it all which isn’t fair and not a good interpretation of a poly relationship. All that said, I DO super enjoy seeing peoples’ poly headcanons and art!
Who does James end up with in this AU?
No one. He's aroace and is happy to be single
Do Jessie and James have all their Pokémon in this AU
I think they have all the Pokémon that they did by the end of Mezase Pokémon Master (all their Pokémon that were left at HQ). Most of their released Pokémon have stayed released and the Alola Pokémon are still in Alola. I bring back Arbok and Weezing post-Jessie and Delia getting married. I may bring back Chimecho, Growlie and Cacnea if I think of an idea I like!
What are Meowth and James up to in this AU?
Hop back to the top of this post under the "Where to Start" section. All your questions will be answered.
Does Ash travel with anyone at this point of his life?
I don't have anyone in particular in mind! I could see him making new friends (Nemona???) or traveling with different combinations of old friends. Like him, Misty and Goh, him, Dawn and Cilan, him, Serena and Lillie etc.
Will Delia ever get over her phobia of snake Pokémon
Not fully! I think overcoming fears is fine and good but I think real PHOBIAS are much harder to get past and I don't want to cheapen it. She slowly gets used to Jessie's Seviper specifically and gets to the point where she can pet it comfortably with Jessie in the room. But otherwise, still scared and would need that same amount of time per Pokémon
Is Jessie gaining weight or is it just me?
Not just you! Jessie puts on a bit of relationship weight overtime as you'll see in the later comics in the timeline. Jessie grew in poverty, never knowing when her next meal would be and that continued into her life as a Team Rocket member. Once she was able to settle down (with a woman who runs her own restaurant no less) she's able to live a healthier lifestyle with regular meals and puts on some weight because of that.
Does Jessie ever feel self conscious about gaining weight?
Nope! She feels happier and healthier and hotter. She's also unreasonably excited to clear out her old clothes and get a new wardrobe.
Would Jessie and Delia ever have kids together or adopt?
Nah, Ash is enough for them! I have come up with hypothetical kids for them but they're not canon to this AU. Just a fun little thing for me.
Will you ever put this on webtoon?
Nah. People mostly ask me this because they want to read everything in the order of the timeline but to my knowledge, you can’t reorder chapters or installments which would defeat the purpose. I also don’t think nintendo fan stuff would fly there. Also, also it’s just extra work and another place to upload and I want to keep this all fun for myself~
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good-chimes · 3 months
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THE DIVORCE OF THE CENTURY
TRANSCRIPT OF DIVORCE PROCEEDINGS BETWEEN GRIAN AND GOODTIMESWITHSCAR, DAY 1:
His Hon. Judge BdoubleO100: Silence in the court!
[Court is not silent]
His Hon. Judge Bdubs: Silence in the COURT! I can have you all HANGED!
[The court falls as silent as is possible with a dozen Hermits present]
Judge Bdubs: Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today—
Cleo: Ahem.
Judge Bdubs: WHAT?
Cleo: That’s for weddings, Bdubs. We’re not doing a wedding. In fact, if you think about it, this is about as far away from a wedding as you can get.
Judge Bdubs: Fine fine FINE. Dearly beloathed, we have all been dragged here today because SOME PEOPLE can’t get ALONG. Grian, step forward!
Grian: Do I— is this the podium for witnesses? Who built this and why did they make it out of nothing but trapdoors? So. Okay. I’m filing for divorce.
Scar: Wait, I thought I was filing for divorce.
Judge Bdubs: LET THE DEFENDANT SPEAK.
Ren: Bdubs, my man, that’s the petitioner. The court hasn’t accused Grian of any crimes.
Cleo: [darkly] Yet.
Grian: I haven’t done any crimes! I’m filing for divorce from Scar, obviously. As my lawyer will tell you—
Judge Bdubs: Do you have a lawyer?
Grian: Yes, your Honor. This is my defense lawyer Mumbo Jumbo Esq. [Waggles a hand behind his back and hisses] Mumbo!
Judge Bdubs: Mumbo’s your defense lawyer? Aren’t you supposed to have a divorce lawyer?
Mumbo: [steps forward and bows nervously] Well, I’ve never divorced anyone, but I have got a lot of experience in defending, er, mainly myself, come to think of it, and also my valuables. From Grian, as a matter of fact. So I think I’ll stick with ‘defense lawyer’ if that’s alright with the court, thank you. 
Judge Bdubs: [leans aside to confer with Cleo] Is that alright with the court? Ask Joe.
[Court Scribe JoeHills confirms this is probably alright with the court]
Judge Bdubs: Good, good, next! Scar, do you have a lawyer?
Scar: Oh, absolutely. My lawyer is this cat I found outside.
Judge Bdubs: Not Jellie?
Scar: Jellie doesn’t believe we’re really divorcing and wouldn’t come.
Judge Bdubs: Is this cat a qualified divorce lawyer?
Scar: She’s a—let me look at those markings—she’s clearly a personal injury attorney.
Cleo: Have you been personally injured, Scar?
Scar: Why, thank you for asking, I have. My feelings have been very hurt!
Ren: Uh, Bdubs, maybe the court should establish some facts. Why they’re divorcing, what the court can do for them, that sort of thing.
Judge Bdubs: YES. Let’s start with the facts. Now, we all know why you and Scar got married in the first place. Don’t stand there and make that innocent face at me, Grian, I know all the secrets. You got married because Etho and I had the WEDDING OF THE CENTURY last month and you were JEALOUS—no, don’t talk, THE JUDGE IS TALKING—you were jealous of us. [aside] Bdubs and Etho had the wedding of the century, Joe, are you writing this down?
Court Scribe JoeHills: Yep, your Honor, I’ve written that down.
Grian: It wasn’t that good.
Judge Bdubs: YOU TAKE THAT BACK.
Grian: Etho had his bouquet wrapped in a Kleenex box.
Scar: [sentimentally] Don’t you listen to him, Bdubs, I thought the flower arch was lovely.
Judge Bdubs: Thank you, Scar! I—
Cleo: You can’t find in favor of Scar because he said something nice about your own wedding decorations.
Judge Bdubs: [with dignity] —was NOT going to do that. Ahem. So, you and Scar got married because you were jealous—
Grian: We didn’t! It wasn’t like that!
Judge Bdubs: —and now you want to get divorced. Why?
[At this point Petitioner Grian and Petitioner Scar, who have been studiously avoiding each other’s gazes, appear to lock eyes by accident. They both jerk away like they’ve touched a blaze rod. Grian immediately swivels to face the bench, and this scribe has to note that at normal times Grian’s stare is disconcertingly like two soulless voids looking back at you, so it’s even worse when he’s attempting a poker face. Scar becomes very interested in his cat defense lawyer and doesn’t look at Grian at all.]
Grian: The thing is, you see, this marriage was a scam from the start.
*
EVIDENCE #1
[Dramatization by Court Scribe from participant testimony]
One month previously, a note landed in Scar’s bedroom attached to a firework rocket with a red bow and rose. This was very romantic, or at least it would have been romantic if the rocket hadn’t lodged in the rafters and set itself and a chunk of the surrounding wall on fire, but in any case it was clearly Grian making an effort, so Scar deciphered the coordinates scribbled on the charred note and set off to find out what was going on.
They pointed to a spot in the middle of nowhere. In Scar’s long experience of Grian, this meant an equal chance that they were going to make out or he was going to get inventively murdered, but this was always a gamble worth the odds.
But when he arrived, on a green hill in a quiet spot of the server, it was neither. The top of the hill had been leveled off and covered with birch wood, on which Grian was industriously spelling out something with white wool, though Scar couldn’t make out the words from his low angle of approach. Grian stopped when he spotted Scar and launched up to meet him. His wings beat so fast they were nearly vibrating.
“Scar,” Grian said, “Scar.” His grin was one of a cat who had stolen not only the cream, but the milk, the cow, and everyone else’s cows for good measure. “Scar, I’ve had an idea.”
This was clearly a planning-a-prank type of meeting, which probably meant no making out, but Grian’s pranks were not to be missed. “I’m in,” Scar said. “Do we get fancy costumes? I want a fancy costume.”
“No, Scar, that’s not the point—wait, yes, actually.” Grian angled his wings to carve tight spirals around Scar’s coasting flight, always a sign of excitement, and nudged the angle of their joint descent to land on top of the white wool scrawls. “Yes, fancy costumes are a big part of it, but that’s not—listen, this is my big gesture. Just look down.”
Scar looked down. The wool said, WILL YOU MARR.
“I ran out of wool,” Grian said. He flapped a hand. “Just because it’s a big gesture doesn’t mean it has to be finished.”
“What was it supposed to say?” Scar said innocently.
“Scar!” Grian shifted from foot to foot when he got agitated, which was always funny. “Fine! Okay! Stand there.”
The hidden trapdoor beneath their feet gave way as Grian pressed a switch. Scar yelped for form’s sake, but nothing exploded, and the only thing at the bottom of their tumbled slide was an underground bunker.
It had a table, and two chairs, and a huge corkboard on the otherwise blank walls. Grian had always had a thing for bunkers.
“This,” Grian said, with a flourish, “is the Wedding War Room.”
Scar looked around the bunker and asked the important question. “Are you going to decorate it?”
“Am I going to—no, listen, that’s not the point either. You can decorate it, if you want. The point is, you know how Bdubs and Etho got married?”
“It was beautiful,” Scar agreed immediately. “That wedding chapel? Incredible, honestly, Bdubs is a true artist. Oh! Remember the part where Etho put a river of lava through the chapel roof and glitched it into a heart?”
“Okay, but, you know what Bdubs and Etho got?
“Eternal happiness?”
“Scar.”
“No, what?”
“Bdubs and Etho got royal diamonds,” Grian said impressively. “From the vault.”
“Are they still royal diamonds if Ren’s not king anymore?” Scar said. “I thought we blew up the vault, anyway. You blew it up. I was there.”
“Do you pay any attention to anything that’s not Scarland?” Grian said. “Mumbo didn’t know what to do with the diamonds so he and Iskall built a new vault. I think Mumbo and Iskall and Impulse are the only ones who really know how to get into it. Anyway, everyone got so warm and fuzzy about Bdubs and Etho’s wedding that they all decided to open the vault up and just gave them diamonds.”
“Free diamonds?” Scar said thoughtfully.
“Free diamonds!” Grian’s eyes glittered. “Think of that vault. Stacks on stacks on stacks of diamonds. Thousands of diamonds! We could have some of those, for nothing, just by saying some words. And that’s not even mentioning the wedding presents! We’re out here spending days and days grinding resources and stocking our shops when we could be swimming in it! That could be us, Scar.” Scar had entirely forgotten the lack of interior decorations; he always did, when Grian got on a roll as mesmerizing as this.“And so,” Grian took a deep breath and held out his hand, “Scar, will you marry me?”
Scar took his hand with an enormous wave of affection. “Grian,” he said sincerely, “I have never, in my whole life, wanted to marry anyone more.”
*
EVIDENCE #2
Mumbo took the news more earnestly than Grian had expected.
“Oh,” said Mumbo. “Oh, haha, wow—seriously? Scar said something and I thought it was just a joke, but you guys actually… Wow!” He cleared his throat. “Grian, mate, it’s been a long time coming. I’m so happy for you.”
“Don’t get sappy,” Grian said. “It’s just a wedding. I mean,” he clarified, “it’s a very important wedding, obviously, because it’s my wedding, but I don’t need you to get sappy about it. I don’t even need you to talk about it. I just need you to bring diamonds.”
“I didn’t even know you were going to ask him,” Mumbo said, ignoring the very clear instructions Grian had just given him. “Or did he ask you, or—mate, that’s just brilliant. This is brilliant. Is it because Bdubs and Etho had that wedding? That was really beautiful, I don’t mind saying, I got a little bit teary.”
“This has nothing to do with any weddings anyone else had,” Grian said with dignity. “Our wedding will be better, but that’s unrelated. I didn’t come here to talk about that. I came here to ask you something.” He took hold of Mumbo’s hand in the most meaningful grip he could muster. “Mumbo, we’ve been friends for years, right?”
“Of course,” Mumbo said nervously.
Grian gave it a second’s pause for the sake of drama. “Mumbo Jumbo, will you be my best man?”
“Ah,” Mumbo said, which was not what Grian had expected. “Ah. Er. Might be a problem there.”
“What’s the problem?”
“Well, you see, five minutes ago, Scar…”
*
EVIDENCE #3
<Grian> scar
<Grian> scar
<Grian> scar
<GoodTimeWithScar> yES?
<Grian> my base.
<Grian> now.
<GoodTimeWithScar> On my way
GoodTimeWithScar hit the ground too hard
<GoodTimeWithScar> oNE MINUTE
<Grian> come in the back door
GoodTimeWithScar hit the ground too hard
<GoodTimeWithScar> Was that a trap??
<Grian> mumbo is mine
<GoodTimeWithScar> No he isn’t, Mister!
GoodTimeWithScar was slain by Ravager
GoodTimeWithScar was slain by Ravager
GoodTimeWithScar was slain by Ravager
GoodTimeWithScar was slain by Ravager
Grian was shot by GoodTimeWithScar using [HoTgUy]
<Grian> MUMBO IS MINE
GoodTimeWithScar was slain by Vindicator
GoodTimeWithScar was slain by Ravager
Grian was shot by GoodTimeWithScar using [HoTgUy]
<Renthedog>: :o
GoodTimeWithScar burned to death
<Renthedog> Everything okay there, gentlemen?
<Grian> best man debate
GoodTimeWithScar was poked to death by a sweet berry bush
<Grian> all settled now
<Renthedog> wait
<EthosLab> Wait
<BdoubleO100> WAIT
<TangoTek> are you two…?
<Grian> invitations dropping tomorrow. wedding gift mandatory.
<GoodTimeWithScar> Come one, Come all!
<Grian> only diamonds will be considered real presents
<PearlescentMoon> huh
<impulseSV> omg finally! So happy for you guys!
<PearlescentMoon> be honest Grian, is this because Bdubs and Etho got married and you had to one-up them?
<Grian> NO IT IS NOT
*
EVIDENCE #4
The bachelor party negotiations were even more hard-fought than the best man.
They held the impromptu negotiations in the Wedding War Room, which was now covered with loving maps and hundreds of bits of paper that neither of them had read since putting them up there. They looked good, though, so Scar kept adding more.
There was a pile of paper strips on the table in front of them. Scar and Grian sat facing off like two negotiators at a ceasefire.
“Mumbo’s my best man,” Grian said, picking the first name off the pile without breaking eye contact and moving it to his side of the table, “so he comes to my party.” Scar gave in with a modicum of grace. The possibility of having bachelor parties at different times had been wordlessly considered and then summarily dismissed by both combatants.
Scar escalated it to a blood sport as he picked up the next bit of paper. “Pearl’s coming to my party.”
Grian yelped and grabbed Scar’s wrist. “She is not. I knew her first!”
“I know her better,” Scar countered. “Or at least,” he added, “I know her building style better.”
“You can’t just steal my friend because you like her building! That’s not how that works!”
“I think she’d enjoy it,” Scar said meditatively. “I’m going to have champagne. Glitter. Razzmatazz.”
“I will have more champagne,” Grian said mutinously. He hadn’t taken his hand off Scar’s wrist. “And more razzmatazz. You can’t have Pearl.”
“Oh, all right then,” Scar said, since Pearl was one of Grian’s oldest friends and he’d never had a chance of getting her anyway. Grian plucked the piece of paper out of his hand and put it on top of Mumbo’s paper. “I get Bdubs, though.”
That was a given. Grian didn’t seriously dispute it, though he opened his mouth to try. “I—yes, fine. You can have Bdubs.” Scar swept the piece of paper to his own side of the table.
“And that means,” Scar proceeded, with the grand momentum of a train starting to roll, “that I get Etho, as well.” He shuffled through the bits of paper and displayed Etho’s name like a magic trick.
He watched Grian calculate his chances of getting Etho if Bdubs was going to Scar’s party. “…okay, yeah, you get Etho.”
“Also that means I get Cleo,” Scar said. “She’ll come if Bdubs does. We don’t want to split up friends.” He drew Cleo’s name towards him, sliding another couple of slips underneath it at the same time. “Oh, and Joe as well, if Cleo’s coming.”
“What’s that other one?” Grian said suspiciously. He trapped Scar’s hand and pried out the third name. “What—no, you can’t have Ren.”
“Okay, okay, okay,” Scar said in his most reasonable voice. “Hear me out. I have Cub, right?”
“What’s that got to do with anything?”
“Well, I have Cub, and Bdubs, and Cleo, and Joe, so, by royal decree…”
“You can’t have Ren just because the five of you were in a royal murder cult with him!”
“Excuse me, mister, that wasn’t a cult. That was the royal court!”
“It was too a cult,” said Grian, a man who had once persuaded Ren into living in camper vans in the woods with him for weeks in order to break into a military base and steal a magic box.
Ren’s name was already safely on Scar’s side of the table. “And if I have Ren, then I have to have Doc—”
“Look, Scar, if you get all of Bdubs’ current and former exes—”
“—what’s a ‘current ex’—”
“—Etho and don’t interrupt me, if you get everyone Bdubs has ever had a relationship plus their plus ones you get ninety percent of our friends.”
“Is it my fault I throw good parties?” Scar protested. “Look, you can have—”
“I’m having Impulse,” Grian interrupted, pulling his name out. “I need more redstoners.”
“What for?”
Grian waved a hand. “You just need them around.” Scar nodded, unable to find a flaw in the logic. “Also I get Joel. And Martyn. And Timmy.”
“I built Jimmy a train,” Scar objected. He put his fingertips on the other end of Jimmy’s name while Grian attempted to steal it.
“All right, this is the ‘disputed’ pile,” Grian said, pushing it to the side. “Who else?”
Now they had a disputed pile, it started filling up. “If I have Cleo,” Scar said, “then technically I should have Scott—”
“You can’t keep using that trick!” 
“Then how are we going to fix it, Grian?” Scar’s tone was eminently reasonable. “I think we should just let people be friends.”
“They are friends,” Grian said. “They’re friends with me.”
“They could be friends with me.”
“Tell you what,” Grian said, a warlike gleam coming into his eyes. “We’ll ask them.”
*
TRANSCRIPT OF DIVORCE PROCEEDINGS, DAY 1 (CONTINUED):
Judge Bdubs: So that’s how the split started?
Cleo: You weren’t even married at that point.
Grian: Right! Exactly! We weren’t even married and Scar used underhand methods to steal my friends!
Scar: Excuse me. You went around the server threatening everyone who you didn’t think was coming to your party. Talk about underhand methods! I just offered them a good time.
Grian: Your bribed them! You bribed them to come to your bachelor party! [stabs a finger at Judge Bdubs] You even bribed him, so I don’t know why we put him in charge of this divorce.
Judge Bdubs: Nobody is allowed to question the integrity of the judge! I am as PURE AS THE DRIVEN SNOW.
Scar: That’s a good point. I gave you netherite, Bdubs, you should be ruling in my favor.
Judge Bdubs: You gave me ONE netherite ingot, I’m not giving you a ruling for that.
Scar: Grian, I think this judge is biased.
Judge Bdubs: HOW DARE YOU.
Grian: Scar is right, this judge is corrupt! I can’t believe we were forced into this farce of a trial and the judge is corrupt! Joe, I demand a new judge.
[Court Scribe JoeHills indicates that he is pretty sure this whole divorce trial was Grian’s idea in the first place, and also that judges cannot usually be replaced just like that, and the Court Scribe personally does not have a reserve list]
Judge Bdubs: I refuse to SIT HERE and be SLANDERED! You’re both guilty! [slams gavel] TAKE THEM TO THE DUNGEONS.
[Court Scribe JoeHills confirms that the petitioners have not actually been accused of anything—despite obviously having committed many crimes, Cleo would like to me to record—so cannot be found guilty, and in any case we don’t have any dungeons]
Judge Bdubs: Fine! I give up! CLEO, YOU’RE THE JUDGE NOW.
Judge Cleo: Wait, am I?
[Judge Bdubs forcibly transfers the judicial wig to Cleo, upon which the snakes in her hair make a spirited attempt to eat it.]
Scar: Can we get on with it?
Judge Cleo: Yes, you can shut up. You can all shut up! Thank you. That’s better. Are you sure you two can’t just settle it out of court so we can all go home?
Grian: No, we can’t. Me and Scar have [checks his notes] undergone an irreparable breakdown.
Scar: Sure, we might have had an eruptable breakdown, but you can’t say it was my fault. I tried to make it work. I built us a honeymoon island! It had palm trees and deckchairs and everything. I’m coming here in good faith and I deserve to be the innocent party.
Grian: I want all the diamonds Scar has.
Judge Cleo: Joe, is he allowed to ask for that?
[Court Scribe diligently references the law summary he found on the internet, suggests that at this stage the judge can grant temporary financial orders on petitioner request]
Grian: Fine, I want half of Scar’s diamonds.
Scar: I need all my diamonds for Scarland materials!
Grian: They’re not your diamonds! They’re my diamonds!
Scar: Then I get half of all your dark prismarine, thank you very much, that will be amazingly useful.
Grian: You’re not touching my dark prismarine! I’ll sell it all if you try!
Judge Cleo: Nobody is touching anyone else’s anything! Ren, stop laughing, this is a serious courtroom. Grian, you’re not allowed to sell your dark prismarine. Scar, you’re not allowed to hide any of your diamonds. Everyone is going to keep things exactly as they are until this trial is done.
Grian: Do you trust him? Look at him, look at his face, would you trust that man? Of course you wouldn’t! All the diamonds should stay in my base while we’re having the trial.
Scar: This is outrageous! This is an outrageous demand! You can’t just question a man’s honor like that!
Judge Cleo: Well, put them somewhere safe. Joe can keep them.
Grian: [grudgingly] I suppose we could put them in the Royal Vault.
Judge Cleo: You want to put your valuables in escrow?
Scar: I don’t see what birds have to do with it.
[Short pause while the concept of ‘escrow’ is explained to both petitioners]
Scar: Well, I’ll do it, but I think Grian should put all his resources in nestcrow. Seeing as it’s all his fault.
Grian: I did everything right! I was the perfect groom!
Judge Cleo: You know, Grian, somehow I have my doubts. Go back to your marriage testimony. What happened next?
*
EVIDENCE #5
“Ahem,” said Mumbo. “Ahem.”
Grian rolled his eyes, jumped up on a table, decided that wasn’t good enough, flew up and perched on the light fitting, and yelled, “Everyone! It’s happening! The best man is speaking!”
Silence fell.
“I was actually going to announce you,” Mumbo said. He cleared his throat. “All right! So! This… is a bachelor party!”
The bachelor party–all three of them–looked at each other.
“Woohoo!” said Iskall.
“Party time!” tried Pearl gamely.
“I was promised champagne,” said Scott, who had been lured through the portal with one bribe only.
“There will be champagne,” said Mumbo. “As best man, it is my job to plan the bachelor party, and to plan a party that is… appropriate, and thoughtful, and informed by my long friendship with Grian, so,” he coughed, “if everyone could check the boxes under their chairs for supplies, we do have an event. Sort of thing. Kind of a party game.”
“Er,” said Pearl, checking under her chair. “This is… quite a lot of...”
Iskall started to giggle.
“Seriously, I was promised champagne,” said Scott.
“Yes, yes, we’ll get to that,” Mumbo said. “First, we’re going to sneak into the other party and blow them all up.”
“...so many ender crystals…” whispered Pearl.
“Look how they sparkle!” said Iskall.
“What about the—”
“And! When they’re all dead,” said Mumbo, “we can take their champagne.”
Grian flew down from the light fitting and landed in front of Mumbo. His eyes were shining. He took Mumbo’s hands in his. “Mumbo,” he breathed. “I’ve changed my mind. Can I marry you instead?”
“Er,” said Mumbo. “No?”
“Did you even order any refreshments?” said Scott.
“Listen,” Mumbo said, “it’s Grian’s party, we were going to end up doing this anyway, and it’ll be fun.”
“Dibs on blowing up Scar!” said Grian.
“We understand, Grian,” said Pearl.
“I suppose that’s sort of romantic?” said Scott in an undertone. “You’d think he’d have more trauma about it, after all the–”
“This is going to be so funny,” Grian said, scooping up handfuls of ender crystals. “Best–best man–ever.”
*
EVIDENCE #6
The actual wedding was a subdued affair.
The wedding venue had just about survived, by virtue of being several hundred blocks away from either bachelor party, though the smoking craters were visible in the background. From the front, the building was a charming mansion with flowers in every window. From every other angle it might be a gray shell, but Grian was a very busy person who was getting married and he couldn’t be expected to get to everything.
On the morning of the wedding, when Grian finally pieced himself together and dragged himself back from respawn he was met by the two Best Man candidates: Mumbo, who was sitting on the step of the venue dismally trying to piece his scorched suit back together, and Cub, who was completely unruffled and appeared to be doing a crossword.
“Oh, Grian, you made it.” Mumbo abandoned his scorched hems in relief. “Some people haven’t even respawned yet. We really do need Scar, though—”
“I’m here! I’m here!” Scar, impeccably dressed in a blue morning suit, swooped in from above, trailing flowers and losing his top hat in the process. “Gosh. Nobody else made it, huh?”
“I don’t believe this,” Grian said. “None of them?”
“Weren’t you supposed to open the portal again for the Empires people?”
“I forgot,” Grian said. “But we can’t focus on that. We have to focus on the fact that at least twenty Hermits promised to come, and now they aren’t here.”
“I, um,” Mumbo said. “I take full responsibility for the original idea, but I think the seventh time you blew up Bdubs and Ren and Doc and Zedaph you did blow up all their stuff as well. And I think some people got hit so hard they won’t respawn for a week.”
“That was their fault,” Grian said. “For being in the way of my ender crystals.”
“Seven times?” Cub said.
“Oh, as if you’ve never blown up someone and all their stuff seven times and pushed their respawn into next week.”
“So, what?” Scar said. “Do we just…not have a wedding?”
Mumbo coughed. “I think you should still get married.”
“What?”
“I just think,” Mumbo gestured vaguely. “You know, your whole thing. And Jevin made you the suits and everything. It would be a shame. You could have an intimate wedding without any guests, you know. I’m just saying.”
Grian attempted to trade a skeptical look with Scar. This didn’t work, as Scar had gone faintly red and wasn’t looking at him. “An intimate wedding, you mean, right here?” Scar said. “Now? Oh, yes, of course, but you know, now I come to think about it, I don’t know I can get married.”
This smelled like weakness. “What’s wrong with marrying me?” Grian demanded. “Are you backing out?”
“No, I—I need my top hat! I can't get married without my top hat!”
“Are you scared, Scar?”
“Of course I'm not scared!” Scar said indignantly. “We’ll do it right now! Who’s marrying us? Oh—Joe’s still respawning, isn’t he? Cub, you can do it, can’t you? Cub’s an ordained priest, you know.”
“That’s right,” Cub said agreeably.
“Is he?” Grian said suspiciously. “Which religion?”
Cub’s faint smile didn’t change at all. “Don’t worry about that.”
“You don’t want to think too hard about it,” Scar said breezily. “But he’s very official! Very well-respected in the community.”
In all their planning, Grian had given no thought at all to the actual wedding. He was nearly certain that the chanting from the officiant was supposed to be pleasant and inoffensive, about, well, love and stuff, and he was also fairly sure the officiant’s eyes were not supposed to turn black as a flaming rift appeared behind him spewing an unknowable sense of dread, but at that point Scar kissed Grian thoroughly, and that lasted so long that Mumbo had to break it up after a few minutes with a polite cough, and by that time Cub had finished chanting and gone back to his crossword.
“That was very touching,” Mumbo said, apparently relieved they weren’t still kissing right in front of him. “Shame about the guests, but you can’t have everything.”
“Shocking,” Scar agreed. “Do they still have to give us presents? Maybe if we waited a week and did it again? I have to say, I could use a little more time to get the trees right on Honeymoon Island.”
“We’re not having a honeymoon, Scar, I told you,” Grian said. “This wedding is just business, and we don’t have any business without the presents.”
Mumbo was wearing the expression that Grian had always vaguely compared to an accountant breaking the bad news about something unspeakable going on in the stockmarket. “To be honest with you,” Mumbo said, “I don’t think many of them were in a present-giving mood. I think, um, you might have to write off the presents.”
“Are you telling me,” Grian said, “that this whole scheme has been a complete failure?”
*
TRANSCRIPT OF DIVORCE PROCEEDINGS, DAY 1 (CONTINUED):
Judge Cleo: So, let me get this straight, the plan was to scam all of us—
Scar: Scam is a strong word. More like a trade, if you think about it! A trade where we get presents and you get a warm sense of fuzziness and wellbeing.
Judge Cleo: —exactly, to scam us, and it all went wrong, and you realized the marriage was a mistake? That was weeks ago, though. What happened between that and the divorce?
*
EVIDENCE #7
LIST OF POST-WEDDING WRONGDOING COMMITTED BY GRIAN AND SCAR, VARIOUS (condensed from two hours of court arguments)
i. “Well, then I took some deepslate from Grian because I needed it for Scarland, which is just borrowing, if you think about it.”
ii. “Scar really owed me diamonds because it was his fault the scam didn’t work.”
iii. Lengthy descriptions of the damage from ensuing weeks-long prank war.
iv. “He should honestly have expected me to put chickens in his storage system.”
v. Evidence received from Xisuma that this lagged out the entire server.
vi. Evidence received from Grian that Scarland lags out the entire server anyway and this is probably a crime so why can’t the court do something about that.
vii. Strong representations from both sides that the other one snores and hogs the covers and this probably ought to be a crime.
*
TRANSCRIPT OF DIVORCE PROCEEDINGS, DAY 1 (CONTINUED):
Judge Cleo: [face down on judicial bench] Have they stopped talking yet?
Court Scribe JoeHills: No, they’re still going.
*
EVIDENCE #8
FURTHER LIST OF WRONGDOINGS COMMITTED BY GRIAN AND SCAR
viii. “Yes I did blow him up after that, but it’s not illegal if it’s funny.”
ix. Complicated debate about whether ensuing sabotage was funny enough not to be illegal.
x. Representations from Grian that everything is Scar’s fault with absolutely no legal backing at all.
xi. Representations from Scar, ditto, with the addition of fake law he says his cat defense attorney told him.
xii. At this point, Court Scribe JoeHills has given up attempting to make sense of the petitioners’ ongoing argument.
*
TRANSCRIPT OF DIVORCE PROCEEDINGS, DAY 1 (CONTINUED):
Judge Cleo: Enough! ENOUGH! No! Shut up! If I have to listen to one more attempt at utterly specious reasoning from either of you I am going to pick up this gavel and I am going to drive its handle through my own skull. This is definitely both your fault, you are terrible people, and I hope you get divorced harder than anyone has ever got divorced in history.
[Mildly stunned silence in the court]
Judge Cleo: Right. Good. I am about to quit. But before I quit, because Joe asked me nicely to come here today, I am going to order one of you to serve the other with divorce papers before tomorrow. That’s the next thing on the list: one of you has to formally divorce the other. No, I am not going to hear any more arguments, I’m done with this whole thing, you can find a new judge. Yes, Scar?
Scar: [lowers his tentatively raised hand] How do we know which one divorces the other one?
Judge Cleo: [looks blank] Well… I suppose it’s who serves their papers first?
*
COMPLAINT TO COURT:
Submitter of complaint: SCAR
Body of complaint: Grian wont accept divorce papers and keeps avoiding me.
COMPLAINT TO COURT:
Submitter of complaint: GRIAN
Body of complaint: scar didn’t take a single copy of the papers despite the fact i filled his bedroom with them
COMPLAINT TO COURT:
Submitter of complaint: SCAR
Body of complaint: Grian paid impulse to make a divorce paper printing redstone machine. It feels like this, should be Illegal!
COMPLAINT TO COURT:
Submitter of complaint: GRIAN
Body of complaint: scar employed my best man to make him a rival printing machine. this is sabotage.
COMPLAINT TO COURT:
Submitter of complaint: ZEDAPH
Body of complaint: Er, I know you’re doing a whole trial thingummy, but I would really like to be able to move around my base without swimming through mountains of divorce papers. Does it look like this is going to be possible any time in the near future?
COMPLAINT TO COURT:
Submitter of complaint: DOCM77
Body of complaint: WHY HAVE SEVENTY THOUSAND BADLY-PRINTED COPIES OF DIVORCE PAPERS BEEN SHOVELED INTO THE PERIMETER! I AM HOLDING ALL OF YOU PERSONALLY RESPONSIBLE! I WILL RAIN DOWN FIRE AND BLOOD!
*
TRANSCRIPT OF DIVORCE PROCEEDINGS, DAY 2:
Judge Mumbo: Right, so, apparently I’m supposed to be ruling on who served who with papers.
Scar: Excuse me! Objection! This new judge is clearly biased.
Grian: No, he’s not. This is all completely fine. Mumbo can be the judge now, and he can just wear a different hat when he’s being my lawyer.
Judge Mumbo: I am a bit biased, I have to admit.
Grian: No you’re not, Mumbo.
Scar: Admit it, there can’t be a fair trial for Grian under these circumstances!
Judge Mumbo: Uh—
Scar: Because I know Mumbo, and he can’t resist these…HoTgUy abs!
[Minor chaos as the court attempts to enforce a dress code]
Judge Mumbo: [removes his wig] Sorry, Grian, he’s right. Scar’s papers are accepted.
Grian: TRAITOR.
Mumbo: Scar, can I have another calendar?
*
TRANSCRIPT OF DIVORCE PROCEEDINGS, DAY 3:
Judge Ren: Court is called to order! Where’s—oh, there you are. Scar, you’re late.
Scar: Sorry! I was working on our honeymoon island.
Grian: What do you mean, our honeymoon island? Scar, we’re divorcing.
Scar: That doesn't mean you can just abandon a build, Grian. Some of us don't leave our backsides unfinished.
Cleo: Someone please get Ren a glass of water, I think he’s going to choke.
Judge Ren: Ahem. Now, gentlemen, I understand Scar is filing for divorce from Grian on the grounds of [checks his notes] desertion, abandonment, and unreasonable behavior.
Grian: Excuse me, what! If I’ve been unreasonable, what about him?
Scar: I have been a model of rationality and recti— rectic— ridiclitude.
Judge Ren: Indeed. I have heard Scar always finishes his backsides.
Grian: I’ll give you unreasonable behavior! This whole thing is your fault! If your bachelor party hadn’t been so badly defended I wouldn’t have been able to blow you all up.
Scar: Well, mister, if you hadn’t overthrown Ren in the first place he might have shown up to our wedding in spite of it!
Grian: If you’d been better at your job I wouldn’t have been ABLE to overthrow him!
Scar: You—you—oooh, I oughta—
Grian: [tauntingly] Ought to what?
Judge Ren: Scar, no, not in court…!
Scar: HOTGUY! [Retrieves bow from improbably small pocket and summarily murders his co-petitioner on the witness. Chaos ensues. Trial name hastily changed.]
TRANSCRIPT OF TRIAL PROCEEDINGS FOR THIRD-DEGREE MURDER, DAY 1:
Judge Ren: Listen, Scar, did you, or did you not, kill another petitioner right in front of me?
Scar: What? Oh, yeah, I just shot Grian.
Judge Ren: You can’t just—My dude, this might have been a crime of passion, but you understand this is a court and that was murder, right?
Cleo: Objection.
Judge Ren: Yes?
Cleo: We can’t start prosecuting for murder now.
[Pause as the court considers the comprehensive history of all Hermits present.]
TRANSCRIPT OF TRIAL PROCEEDINGS FOR THIRD-DEGREE MURDER, DAY 1
TRANSCRIPT OF DIVORCE PROCEEDINGS, DAY 3:
Judge Ren: [once Grian has returned from spawn] You’re going to have to come to some sort of agreement, gentlemen. It’s been days.
Grian: I think we should fight.
Judge Ren: This court does not do trial by combat. I refuse to be witness to such barbarity.
Cleo: I mean…if you think about it, it would stop them arguing.
Judge Ren: …
Judge Ren: I think I could stand to watch someone else compromise their morals. From a distance. Who wants this wig?
Judge Pearl: [settling in at the bench] Right! I think you two should fight. To the death.
Grian: LET’S FIGHT.
Judge Pearl: Riding ravagers.
Scar: What?
Judge Pearl: It would be funny.
Scar: Ravagers, though—
Grian: Don’t listen to Scar, he just murdered me. He doesn’t have a leg to stand on.
Scar: Alright! Alright, we can fight, but I’m only doing it if it’s somewhere dramatic.
Grian: …What do you mean, dramatic?
*
TRANSCRIPT OF DIVORCE PROCEEDINGS, DAY 3 (CONTINUED):
[The court has moved proceedings from its custom-built courthouse to a location considered ‘acceptably dramatic’ by Petitioner Scar. We are now in the dim, cavernous monolith of the Royal Vault, where the walls are sheer deepslate lit only by flickering lanterns, and mountains of diamonds and chests gleam softly in the shadowed gloom. The court is gathered here to watch the petitioners fight symbolically over their own escrowed valuables, which are piled in the middle of a stone platform built by Grian and Pearl, and see a final conclusion to this bitterly-fought split. At either end of the platform are pens with two enraged ravagers donated by Tango, salivating at the buffet of violence and blood about to—]
Judge Pearl: [leans over the edge of her observation chair] Joe! What are you doing down there scribbling?
Court Scribe JoeHills: Oh, I’m just adding narrative color.
Judge Pearl: Well, stop doing that and pay attention to the fight! We’re about to start!
Bdubs: FIGHT!
Cub: Let’s go!
Mumbo: Grian, mate, you’ve got this.
Bdubs: RUN HIM THROUGH, SCAR. TEACH HIM TO MAKE FUN OF MY WEDDING DECORATIONS.
Doc: What happens if they both die? I would like them both to die.
Judge Pearl: Contestants! Mount your steeds!
Grian: [has succeeded in landing on his ravager’s back, something Scar has not yet managed] I want you to know, Scar, that whatever happens—
Judge Pearl: Scar! You can’t just stand there, you have to TRY to ride it.
Grian: —I think we can count this as a—
Bdubs: FIGHT! FIGHT! FIGHT!
Scar: [his head comes up to look at Grian] —a double victory?
[As if this is a code word, Grian and Scar’s gazes meet. The Court Scribe feels obliged to note that when Grian and Scar smile at the same time, history suggests something terrible is about to happen.]
Scar: Well, hello there, Mister Ravager! Would you like to get out of that pen?
Bdubs: Wait, what’s he—Scar, you ain’t supposed to break the wall that lets them at us! SABOTAGE!
Judge Pearl: GRIAN!
Grian: [shrieking as his ravager swerves into the crowd of spectators] Scar! The switch!
[Your trusty Court Scribe hurriedly dives out of the way as Scar flings himself into the pile of his and Grian’s valuables, where the tell-tale glint of redstone has been hidden under the piles of chests.]
Ren: Why do both of them have all those empty shulkers?
Cleo: Wait, wait, did we just give Grian and Scar unfettered access to all the diamonds in the vault?
Judge Pearl: WATCH OUT, THEY’VE HIDDEN TNT UNDER THE—
[Scar slams a switch. The world explodes. The Judge and most spectators are instantly blown up. The only survivors are your Court Scribe, who managed to get behind an obsidian pillar, and Cub, rising above the chaos on pre-equipped elytra wings with the philosophical serenity of someone who saw this coming.]
*
POSTSCRIPT
It’s a beautiful day, the sky is a clear and serene blue, and Grian and Scar have gotten away with everything.
Grian coasts joyfully ahead of Scar on outstretched wings, loaded down with boxes and boxes of ill-gotten diamonds, looping head-over-heels only when he can’t contain the energy bubbling through him. “We are the greatest, Scar. We are geniuses. We are the greatest geniuses who ever lived.”
“Oh, we are,” Scar agrees instantly. A lesser person might have pointed out their first plan failed spectacularly and their hasty second one only succeeded by luck, but this is why Grian married Scar specifically. Only he’s not married to Scar any more, is he? For one shining moment Grian had forgotten that.
The crater of the Royal Vault is far below and receding, the debris scattered like little jeweled toys. Grian is recalled to the present gleeful moment in which they are geniuses who have pulled the whole thing off and are richer than every other hermit put together. “Where are we going?”
“I was following you,” Scar says.
“I didn’t think this far ahead! I only planned up to the part where we stole everyone’s diamonds!”
“Oh, well, that’s easy,” Scar says confidently. “Change course to Honeymoon Island!”
Grian doesn’t have a good argument against that, and anyway, he’s too happy and diamond-dazzled to argue. Scar strikes out to the azure ocean and Grian dips into his wake and soars behind.
Scar has outdone himself, as usual. Honeymoon Island is just one long crescent-shaped beach with crystal seas, golden sands, palm trees, deck chairs, and—somehow—little iced coconut drinks that keep reappearing and each have a little paper umbrella. Naturally, Scar hasn’t thought of including a safe room for all their new valuables, so Grian has to dig out a makeshift bunker for all their ill-gotten gains, but when all that excitement is done, Grian throws himself onto a deckchair with a coconut drink and closes his eyes.
“So?” Scar says, in the expectant tone of someone who has spent three weeks fiddling with the palm trees that are currently casting an exquisitely-latticed shade over Grian’s eyelids, despite the fact they were technically divorcing all that time. “What do you think?”
“It is very pretty,” Grian admits grudgingly. “We can’t use it for a honeymoon, though. We’re divorced.”
“Are we divorced?” Scar is thoughtfully making origami out of his paper umbrella. “We did ditch them all before the trial officially finished.”
“Oh, we’re absolutely divorced. Super divorced.”
“I suppose you’re right. No honeymoon for us, then?”
An idyllic silence falls over the palm-fringed beach. The sea laps at the shining sands, creating a soft music from the shells and pebbles. The leaves rustle. This coconut drink in Grian’s hand is surprisingly good.
“Scar—”
“Hey, Grian—”
There is a pause.
“Go on,” Grian says impatiently.
“No, no, I think you should ask.”
“I asked last time!” This is ridiculous. It’s a shame Grian has been enchanted by the ridiculous for years now. “We’re probably not even talking about the same—”
Scar interrupts, which is rude, but unfortunately he’s picked his most golden and unfair voice, like the sea caressing the sand, and Grian is momentarily helpless. “Will you, Grian,” Scar says, “do me the great honor of marrying me? Again?”
Grian throws a paper umbrella at him. “Scar,” he says, “I thought you’d never ask.”
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