#GET HIM OUT OF MY FUCKING SIGHTLINE
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orin moments that fill me with indescribable bloodthirsty rage
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you never disappointed me ; luke castellan x aphrodite!reader
part one part two part three part four
➻ synopsis: charles beckendorf wants to go out with silena beauregard more than anything. one problem: she's not allowed to date until her shrewish older sister does, so he and percy come up with a plan. (10 things I about you AU)
➻ word count: 2783
➻ warnings: swearing ooc/kind of loser!luke, ooc silena, she/her pronouns used for reader
➻ this'll be a few chapter so this is p1!!!
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Charles Beckendorf arrived at Camp Half-Blood when he was fifteen years old. It was a wonder he’d lasted out in the mortal world so long with his significant stature, height enough to attract monsters, but Percy — his tour guide — guessed it was probably his more reserved nature which had kept him under the radar.
“Thank God it’s you showing me around,” Was one of the first things he’d said, “When you start things like this it’s usually all the kiss-asses that greet me.” With six schools under his belt, Percy knew what he meant all too well.
“Nah man, we’re chill. And if we get this done quick then you can meet my friends, we know how to have the real fun here.”
And so they embarked on their tour, Percy dutifully pointing out all the most important places around camp. First was the Dining Pavilion, where they met Grover as he chewed on some of the tin-can remains of lunch. Then came Thalia’s Tree, under which Annabeth was drawing out a map that Charles didn’t understand in the slightest but Percy explained was a strategy for capture the flag. After that they walked past the sword fighting arena, where they caught a glimpse of Luke in the middle of a fierce duel. They both passed quickly, and Charles got the distinct impression that you weren’t supposed to interrupt Luke when he was fighting.
As the two got to the lake, Percy explaining it was where most people hung out when they had the time, Charles faltered in his steps. Percy looked back to where he was frozen and followed his sightline to Silena Beauregard and rolled his eyes.
“Who is that?” He breathed.
“Don’t even bother, bro,” Percy replied. “She’s off limits. It’s a well known fact that the Beauregard sisters aren’t allowed to date — they’re only here over the summers and their dad is crazy strict about it for some reason.”
“But she’s so—”
“Self-centred? Shallow? Silena is all looks no substance, dude. You can do better.” Percy ushered him away but Charles was still daydreaming about the beautiful Aphrodite girl.
The tour was just finishing up by the Climbing Wall when they first saw you. You held the camp record for it, and so had been delegated the responsibility of teaching the younger kids. Today though you’d had to rescue a cocky bastard from getting obliterated by lava, singeing the fabric of your camp shirt all over your left shoulder, and you were not in a good mood.
Just wanting to get back to your cabin for a change of clothes and some ambrosia, you were certainly not in the state of mind to stop and chat with a new camper. So when Percy and Charles came along blocking the whole fucking path, you didn’t hesitate to yell “Move!” Pushing past them in a huff. You wouldn’t usually be so rude, but you were pretty sure your shirt was fusing into your skin which was so not what you needed. Plus, they were in the way. Beckendorf’s bicep was warm from where you’d shoulder-checked him with your injury.
“That’s your dream girl’s older sister,” Percy snorted, used to your disagreeable personality.
“That’s Silena’s sister?” Charles asked incredulously, “But she’s…”
“A shrew? Yeah. I’d watch out for her, and kiss your dreams of going out with Silena goodbye. Now c’mon, I’ll show you to your cabin.” Charles followed mindlessly, still thinking about the two Beauregard sisters.
When people thought of you, the consensus was pretty much this: Silena Beauregard’s older sister, and the most heinous bitch at Camp Half-Blood, a title you were extremely proud of. Whilst you really didn’t think you were that bad — in fact, you considered your actions quite reasonable — younger campers cowered away when you marched through camp and the older ones rolled their eyes when you spoke. Just the way you liked it. It wasn’t exactly unusual, camp had all sorts of kids living there, not everyone was going to get along, but it was pretty unexpected for you as a daughter of Aphrodite.
You didn’t get along with most of your siblings, despite all your efforts as one of the elder campers. You thought it was ridiculous that they wouldn’t participate in camp activities, regardless of the reason. What good was having all that beauty if it was wiped off the face of the earth by a monster? There were a hundred rumours flying about to explain you and your attitude, the most popular being that you were the secret lovechild of Aphrodite and Ares, which explained your affinity for fighting and permanent bitch face. You knew better. For one you shared too many of your dad’s traits not to be his child. Plus, Aphrodite had a long history of being associated with war in Ancient Greece which everyone at camp just conveniently forgot in favour of writing her children off as useless and vain. You hated it, and you refused to be who they wanted.
Even your favourite sibling was the polar opposite to you. Silena was a few years younger than you, and by all accounts was the model of a perfect Aphrodite child. Gorgeous, of course, and usually kind and patient. In your opinion, she was kind of annoying and self-absorbed, but you chose to believe she meant well so you could keep tolerating her. You didn’t know how the only two blood-related siblings in your cabin could be so different from one another, but it had been that way since you were fourteen and she was twelve.
You had made it back to your cabin, and your shoulder was all bandaged up after your shower. You were just flipping through The Bell Jar, your latest novel, when Silena came stomping into the cabin, waving a letter frantically through the air. You could assume what it was about.
“This is so unfair!” Silena whined, “Daddy doesn’t even know Ethan!” Ethan was the new boy Silena had been obsessed with recently, writing incessantly to your father in an attempt to get him to take back the no dating rule.
“What, can’t go swap spit with the vermin of the earth?” You exaggerated a pout. She sneered at you in the mirror.
“Worse. Now he’s saying I can’t date until you do, so now I’m going to die a stupid old virgin because of you!” You rolled your eyes and sighed.
“Have you ever considered there’s more to life than finding a boyfriend? Or, big shock I know, maybe I’m just not interested in the sweaty, uninspired pigs that are supplied here?”
“You suck!” She huffed, turning on a kitten heel and barging out of the cabin.
“You suck!” You mocked, turning back to your book. You knew Silena was really pissed at you for being so stubborn, but you hated the thought of changing your opinions over a man of all things.
Silena, in her frustration, was wandering around Camp Half-Blood to let off some steam. Charles, fresh from a kayaking lesson, spotted her across the beach and scrambled to catch up to her. Remembering what Percy told him about her not participating in many of the camp’s activities, he came up with the idea to offer his help to finish a project in the forges to get Chiron off her back. Silena seemed surprised but happy enough to agree, and Charles was ecstatic.
“She’s agreed to go to the forges with me!” He told Percy excitedly, and Percy raised an eyebrow.
“Do you even know how to weld?”
“Well, no, but I will!” As much as Percy liked the new kid, he was definitely a handful.
Charles’ first session with Silena didn’t go exactly as he’d hoped. She showed up already looking bored, and not keen to start off with a simple sword as he’d proposed. Soon he gave up with any welding, choosing instead to try and get her know better.
“If you’re not really into this we could try something else? I saw someone welding some metal flowers, you know, for like a date?” That caught her attention.
“Are you asking me on a date?” At his shy nod Silena couldn’t contain her slight laugh. “That is so cute! What’s your name again?” Charles told her quietly.
“Well, my Dad’s just changed our family rule — I can date when my sister does.”
“That’s great! So all you’ve gotta do is find someone who’ll date her!”
“One problem, Cameron-”
“Charles.”
“My sister is, like, totally antisocial?”
“Yeah, but people jump out of planes and stuff all the time! It could be, like, extreme dating!”
They both looked across the forge where you were working, fixing up your favourite sword after an Ares kid had done quite a number on it. You had on both your signature outfit and expression — long, practical jorts with your camp shirt tied in a knot and a dangerous bitch face.
“The oversized look is out, Beauregard, didn’t you read last month’s Vogue?” Ethan was hovering around you, trying his hardest to get a rise out of you in front of his friends.
“Run along, dickwad.” You refused to blow up at him, knowing it would only be used to make you look hysterical and unbalanced later. Plus, Ethan would get bored sooner or later and find someone else to taunt.
As Charles recounted this story to Percy later that night at the bonfire, all Percy could do was groan.
“Charles — Charlie — I really wanna like you, man, but this is probably the most stupid thing you could have done. I know they’re hot, but it’s not even worth getting involved with one Beauregard sister, and you’ve just gotten yourself tangled with both — and not in the way that most guys dream about.” Charles flushed at the innuendo.
“I think you’re wrong about Silena, I think she’s worth it. I just have to figure out how I can set her sister up with another guy.”
“Yeah, good luck with that,” Percy laughed, hitting Charles’ knee twice before turning away to talk to Annabeth. Charles spent the rest of the night trying to hatch a plan.
Early the next morning he got Percy on board, albeit very reluctantly. Percy brought Charles over to every single guy he could think of in your age range, begging them to take you out. The responses varied from a nervous shake of the head to Travis Stoll laughing in both boys’ faces.
“Why would I go looking for a kick in the balls?” He asked, still wheezing from his initial outburst.
They found themselves once again at the bonfire, both disheartened. Percy at having wasted a day all for this new guy he barely knew, and Charles that he was no closer to getting a date with Silena. Finally, somewhat eager to get this distraction over with, Percy came up with an idea.
“What about you just pay someone to go out with her?” He asked, and Charles considered the idea for a minute, it wasn’t half bad.
“I have literally no money,” He settled on finally, and Percy rolled his eyes.
“So you get someone else to do it for you,” He suggested, and Annabeth joined the conversation with suspicious interest.
“Like a backer?” She asked, at Percy’s nod she bit her lip, “I don’t know if that’s a good idea, guys, it seems like it could really backfire on you. I mean, what if she finds out? I heard she once tied a camper to the lava wall just for looking at her wrong.”
“She won’t find out! I mean she only has to date so Silena can, it doesn’t have to be a long term thing. She goes on enough dates for it to qualify, then they break up while it’s still casual and I can go out with Silena!” Charles explained excitedly, but Annabeth still looked skeptical.
“Plus, if we have a backer, none of the blame will go to my man Charlie here,” Percy added helpfully, which swayed Annabeth a little.
“Okay, well be careful,” She said, leaving for the dining hall to be distanced from the plot.
Percy thought the answer to who the backer would be was pretty obvious. Whilst most of the boys at Camp Half-Blood wanted to sleep with Silena, Ethan White was both rich and desperate enough to agree to it. Plus when Percy Jackson was telling you you’d look great with a girl, you generally listened.
All that was left was to find someone to set you up with. The boys used the bonfire to scope out their options, but it wasn’t looking good. For one, you didn’t even show up to bonfires if you could help it, and it was anyone’s guess what you did instead. Rumours said blood sacrifices but Percy was almost completely sure that was a lie. Truthfully you were sitting up on the roof of the Aphrodite cabin, enjoying the peace and quiet of the camp when no one else was around.
They were about to give up, Percy trying to find the right words to let Beckendorf down easy, when they saw Luke. Luke, with his brooding eyes and his cigarette, sitting on his own at the bonfire with headphones connected to a mortal mp3 player. Luke, who had never quite been the same since he returned from his quest — rumours swirling about the horrors he’d faced that he refused to speak on.
“I think we’ve found our man.”
It was easy to convince Ethan to get on board, he was so overconfident in himself and his looks he would never suspect that Percy or Beckendorf had any ulterior motives. It was equally enjoyable to watch Ethan try and approach Luke to get the plan in motion. Percy and Beckendorf were sitting with Percy’s friends on the beach the very first time Ethan spoke to Luke. He was all macho confidence, still trying to play the tough guy. Luke looked up at him from his place sitting on a rock, barely moving his head to give him any attention. The moment of eye contact meant Ethan knew Luke had seen him speaking, and the abrupt walking away communicated his absolute lack of interest. It took a gargantuan effort from Percy not to burst out laughing then and there.
The second conversation went a bit smoother. Ethan had a metaphorical tail between his legs, temporarily giving up his ego to be the smaller person in the conversation. That got Luke’s attention, having known Ethan and his antics for years at that point. And then Ethan explained his plan. Luke couldn’t contain his laughter — a sound Camp Half-Blood was rarely graced with anymore.
“Yeah sure, Sparky,” He laughed, almost wheezing in an uncharacteristic show of emotion.
“Look,” Ethan stressed, “I can’t take out Silena until her sister starts dating — their Dad is super strict and has this rule—”
“Touching story, not my problem.” Luke moved to put his earbud back in when Ethan stopped him.
“Could it be your problem if I provided generous compensation?” Luke had forgotten Ethan’s mother was filthy rich. He looked him dead in the eye.
“You’re going to pay me to take out some chick? How much?” He asked, entirely disbelieving.
“Twenty bucks” They both looked down at you on the volleyball courts, spiking a ball into a girl’s stomach with so much force she keeled over on the ground. You had the decency to look mildly apologetic while the opposing team glared at you.
“Fine. Thirty.”
“Let’s see,” Luke smiled something devious. “If I’m taking her out it means leaving camp. That’s a lot of risk I’m pursuing for you, plus the costs of taking to her somewhere — the movies maybe. And you know inflation lately, let’s say seventy-five bucks.”
“This isn’t a negotiation, burnout.”
“Fifty bucks and we’ve got a deal, Fabio,” Luke countered, knowing he had the upper hand. He had nothing to lose. Reluctantly, Ethan forked out a fifty. All that was left was for Luke to get you to go out with him, how hard could that be?
#giasfics˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ ❀#love#luke castellan#pjo tv show#percy jackon and the olympians#percy series#pjo series#percy jackson show#luke castellan x reader#luke castellan x you#luke castellan imagine#luke castellan pjo#luke castellan fanfiction#luke castellan imagines#percy jackson#percy jackson tv show#pjo tv series
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This is just a random snippet that’s been rolling around my brain.
***
He hated fighting magic users.
As the explosion cleared, Dick looked around trying to get his bearings. The surroundings had shifted. Dirty snow lay on the ground. The everpresent glow that surrounded Gotham at night was oddly absent. The air tasted slightly of smoke. And the skyline…Dick knew that craggy, broken skyline.
No Man’s Land.
Beside him, Jason started muttering. “I hate dimensional travel.” Damian had drawn his sword and was gripping it the way he tended to for comfort. And Tim? Tim’s eyes were flickering from building to building, cataloguing everything, before catching on the spraypainted territory marks and sticking.
Get up and go, Nightwing, Dick told himself. This is a bad place to be. You need food, shelter, and a read on the exact territory rules right now. And you’re too far away from Leslie’s hospital to get in safely tonight.
“Robin.” They both looked at him. “Damian, watch the sightlines. Tim. I know you spent more time with Oracle working on the earlier maps than I did. Can you get a read on exactly when and where we are?” Tim nodded and headed straight for the graffiti, tilting his head to look at the obscured tags.
“It’s some post-apocalyptic Gotham universe, Nightwing,” said Jason grumpily. “What’s he going to be able to tell?”
Tim snorted and turned back to the group. “Upper East Side. Somewhere between about 130-150, but probably closer to 130 given the snow and the blood on the wall isn’t that old. Pretty near the Two-Face territory border too; we’d better keep an eye out for the Bat.”
Dick flicked back through memories he’d suppressed as no longer relevant, especially the early moves he’d not been present for. He wished for a second Barbara was here, then suppressed the thought guiltily. She’d be so much more across this.
“Mask?”
“We’re far enough east to be out of his territory right now but I wouldn’t want to risk it. And of course there’s the usual issue with Leslie.” Tim was stating the obvious, in his worry. Dick could feel how much he could no longer remember. It was too early in the period for proper stability, he’d spent most of his time based in the south near Blue Boys territory once he’d left Blackgate, and while he still remembered where all the satellite caves were, there was always the issue that Bruce would notice.
“Faith sector?”
“Probably our best bet tonight but I don’t like taking resources from them.” Tim’s forehead wrinkled. Dick didn’t like it either, but needs must. They could resupply from a cache.
“What the fuck are you two talking about?” Jason was getting more aggravated.
“There’s movement on that broken roof,” muttered Damian, tilting his head to indicate which one.
“Shit.” Dick could see the flap of a black cape as well as the rest of them. There were two options right now and both of them were going to be a problem. “Hood, I’m going to need you to keep quiet. Little D, stick close to me. I’ll explain in a moment. Tim?” Tim looked Dick in the eye for a moment and nodded.
“Yeah, it’d better be me.” He cracked his neck, idly drew out his staff to use as a walking stick, and headed straight for the building.
“What is this?” Jason hissed. “Why are you two acting so weird. And…fuck is that Batgirl?” A familiar black shape had dropped from the roof to land in front of Tim, full face mask and all.
Dick sighed. “No. It isn’t. And please don’t call her that. Robin is about to have to talk very fast. This is almost certainly time travel, not dimensional travel. We’re in No Man’s Land.”
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dw x 2al ficlet
for @intotheelliwoods here ya go...
[]
“Did you make a tree?”
Sprout turned towards the sound of Poptart’s voice, finding the little guy staring upwards. He followed his sightline and found, instead of his cozy expected mindscape, a bigass tree in the middle of everything. The branches extended out with reaching arms, cross-cutting a map of sparkling stars and a rough root system underneath his feet.
“I did not make a tree.” Sprout replied, approaching fearlessly to press his flesh fingers against the thick trunk. “This is new.”
A little push did not make it vanish. It stayed firm, solidly rooted into the ephemeral soil. He had a moment of mystified confusion, turning back to look at Poptart.
“Huh.” Sprout said, unsure.
“Don’t say it like that.” Poptart complained, striding over to give the trunk a poke as well. “You’re gonna make me think something’s wrong. You told me this place was cool.”
“It is cool. I just think that’s not where we are right now.” Sprout said, uncertain.
“Hands off the merchandise, dude, that tickles.”
Sprout removed his hand in surprise, turning towards the familiar voice – familiar as his own, which was not a new experience, but still. Another Leo?
About the same age as Poptart, missing arm and all, hand on his hip and giving the two a very unimpressed look.
“Woah!” Poptart said. “You didn’t tell me there was another one of us!”
“I have had enough multi-verse shenanigans.” Leo sighed. “I had a ghostly one of us here earlier. What are you? Me and Sensei in a funhouse mirror or something?”
“Multi-verse.” Sprout said, enlightened. “That makes more sense. Why does your mindscape have a tree in it?”
“That’s Sensei.” Leo pointed at the tree. “He’s trying a new foundation, really brings out his eyes.”
“Smartass.” Another joined their little group, stepping behind Leo and putting a huge hand on his shoulder, to which the smaller Leo threw an easy grin up at him.
Sprout’s heart skipped a beat, breath stolen directly from his throat. The new Leo was… he was…
Unmistakably from the future, that same ‘big’-ness, missing arm and tired eyes. But when he looked at Sprout and Poptart, he smiled, and …
Fuck, it hurt. Sprout took a step back, off balance, staring with wide eyes.
“Woah.” Poptart caught his arm, looking up with a flicker of worry. “You okay?”
“Yeah.” Sprout rasped, immediate, not wanting the littler turtle to worry, shaking his head and trying to shake off the fog of grief that soaked his mind and fumbled all his faculties. “I’m fine, it’s fine.”
Poptart glanced back over at the two mirror’ed Leo’s, visibly thinking, and asked hesitantly, “Are you Big Leo?”
The undeniably bigger turtle snorted. “Is that a nice way of calling me old? Leo usually goes with oyaji for that. Otherwise I go by Sensei.”
“That’s because you are old.” Leo chimed in, obnoxious. “Is your guy okay? He looks pale as hell.”
“I’m fine.” Sprout repeated louder, for the room to hear, catching exactly how unconvincing it sounded. “I just… Sorry. You reminded me of someone.”
“I am a one of a kind.” Sensei laughed, squeezing Leo’s shoulder and stepping around him to approach the two by the tree.
“There’s four of you here, actually.” Poptart said, helpfully.
“Aren’t you just a joy.” Sensei stopped directly in front of Poptart, dropping to a crouch to see him better and offering a smile with crinkled eyes. “I can tell you’re taking very good care of your Leo. Good job, kid.”
“Thank you!” Poptart said, beaming.
Sprout, meanwhile, had a rock jammed in his throat and it was prickling his eyes. He wasn’t sure what was more overwhelming – seeing someone that looked like Big Leo again, or imagining that it would be the words he’d say if he was there. He’d never know. But in this moment, he could pretend.
Then Sensei glanced up at Sprout from his crouch. “How’d you get here? You’re not my age, yet you’ve managed to get your own little Leo.”
“It’s complicated.” Sprout said, glad his voice didn’t sound as wrecked as his mind was. That fabricated control. He tried to tuck his shaking hand behind his back but Poptart caught it, holding tight.
“I bet it is.” Sensei’s tone was nothing but fond and it could seriously stop hurting so much any damn second now. The rock tore up his throat and left no capability of reply.
“Come on, leave him alone.” Leo came up from behind and dragged on Sensei’s bigger arm. “How many times have I told you to stop poking people in sore spots? Look at the poor dude.”
“Sorry.” Sensei’s smile went wry, and allowed his little Leo to pull him back a few paces. “Welcome to our humble abode. This tree is a representation of my being rooted in Leo’s mind or something, you know how it is when Barry talks, it’s all blah blah blah whatever.”
“Rooted?” Poptart poked the intertwined roots with his foot and the two Leo’s in front of them shivered in perfect unison.
“Careful.” Sprout squeezed Poptart’s hand, clearing his throat and struggling through this situation as best he could. “It tickles, they said.”
“That’s fun.” Poptart laughed, but at least didn’t kick the roots again. “But what do you mean, rooted?”
“He’s actually dead.” Leo jerked a casual thumb at Sensei. “And his ghost is possessing me. We share a body.”
There was a small, incredulous beat. Sprout felt a wave of hysterical dizziness, and figured. Okay, why not. And maybe a little bit of longing. He was not going to dwell on that, thank you very much.
“Cool.” Poptart said, a little more awkward. “We don’t have that. We have our own bodies.”
“Lucky. I hope you bother him as much as you can, then. It never works for me because it just comes back to bite me in the end.” Leo gave a weird laugh, rubbing the back of his neck.
“Oh yeah.” Poptart grinned at him, that faltered a little. “Does that mean you guys can’t hug?”
Sprout glanced at his little Leo, surprised that was the first thing on his mind. Or maybe not that surprised.
“We can in here.” Leo tucked himself into Sensei’s side thudding his head against the bigger plastron. Sensei automatically squeezed him close.
“Why don’t you do something other than a tree for your mindscape, then?” Sprout suggested. As pretty as the landscape was, there were so many infinite possibilities.
“Because my mind is stupid and – ow. Sorry. Labelling. Because we can’t control it?” Leo said, interrupted for a moment in the middle from Sensei smacking his arm gently.
“That sucks. That’s the best part of the mindscape.” Sprout told him. “Me and – um. We can control ours to show memories and play games, like make a giant Jenga, or whatever.”
“Dude.” Leo said, full of jealousy. At least that emotion was shared, Sprout watching him hug his bigger Leo close. Once a little Leo, always a little Leo. Sprout wouldn’t trade Poptart for the world, he made him feel strong, but … he missed being small. Feeling small next to his broad protection. Feeling safe.
“We do share memories.” Sensei said, dry. “But more often than not it’s not on purpose. Your mindscape does sound cool, hopefully one day we can be the ones travelling and maybe I can kick your ass at Jenga.”
“Bring it on, old man.” Sprout said, and his voice cracked damningly.
Something cleared on Sensei’s face. He squished his Leo and said, “Hey, why don’t you go show the new kid around?”
Leo glanced up, a moment of thought, then caved from whatever he saw on Sensei’s face. “Whatever, you two can chat about old people stuff. Come on, obviously-superior-Leo. If we go far enough out you can really see the stars.”
“I’m not that old.” Sprout said, weakly.
Poptart laughed. He didn’t step away immediately, glancing nervously up at Sprout. It took a moment for Sprout to realize he was doing the same thing the other two had done – silently asking if it was what he wanted.
“Go play.” Sprout dunked his head affectionately. “I’m fine.”
Poptart batted his hands away with another laugh. “Okay, okay!”
The two little Leo’s left. Sprout couldn’t meet Sensei’s eyes.
“Do you wanna talk about it?” Sensei offered, once the sparkling laughter disappeared into the fading pollen-hung air.
“Hell no.” Sprout scoffed, turned away, rubbing the back of his neck. Inexplicably nervous. It was Big Leo. They didn’t have the same history. It wasn’t the same.
The emotion crowding in his throat said it might be nice anyway.
“Do you want a hug?” Sensei said, because he could read his mind or something. Jerk.
Sprout didn’t know how to answer. He was polarized in either direction. It wouldn’t be the same. What if it felt like a mockery to his memory? What if –
“I can hear you thinking from here, kid. Relax.” Sensei said. “Just an offer, if you wanted. No strings.”
“Not a kid.” Sprout said, rough.
“Not old, not a kid.” Sensei mused. “What an anomaly you are.”
“That’s me.” Sprout couldn’t do this. He still couldn’t even look at him, trying to spot the specks of the little Leo’s across the horizon. He was pretty sure they were hugging, actually. Poptart had been raised on hugs practically, it was as easy as breathing.
Sprout had raised him on it, so why was it hard for him in this moment? He took a deep breath, refusing to outdone by his kid, and said, “Yeah, okay, come here.”
Sensei approached, and stopped before actually touching him. Sprout was forced to look up and meet his eye, the spots of tears stinging at the precipice of falling.
“Everything I’ve said just seems to make you more upset.” Sensei said, wondering.
“Not your fault.” Sprout told him, and it just. Hurt.
“I don’t know what happened to you, but I know a hurting Leo when I see one.” Sensei opened his arm and slowly and with such intent care tucked Sprout against him. It trembled something weak in his knees, a wash of sudden emotion overwhelming and strong. “And you are doing so, so, so good. Just keep going and you’ll get there. Okay?”
Sprout was too busy choking on tears to reply. He nodded damply against the bigger Leo hugging him. He felt small. He felt safe.
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It really only took a picture from him and the text "Waiting for you." to have me come running. I honestly never expected him to text me in the first place, months later I just know to go around to the fence gate to his backyard. He always left it open when he was outside.
I turned the corner to see him in all of his tanned, masculine glory. He was out lounging on the same beach chair which could barely hold him. He told me he liked the sound of it struggling to hold him, and right now it seemed to be on its last legs. He glanced over to to me, his traps almost getting in the way of his sightline.
"There he is," He smiled and motioned with his hand for me to come over.
I walked over, trying to keep a pace that still let me seem cool, until I was close enough for his hands to then grab me and sit me on his lap, my head resting right on top of his massive pecs. I sighed, feeling his muscles surround me.
"That's better. I knew there was something missing from today." He said.
I laid there, just soaking in his glorious body. His pecs just seemed to bulge bigger every time I saw him, and that wasn't at the neglect of the rest of his body. He had to have the muscle of at least 2 bodybuilders at this point, and even still he kept growing. Not only that, but he was a handsome man, complete with a perfect amount of stubble and a fuck mustache. Fuck, it was hard to not kiss him when you saw his face.
"Hey, you're getting some muscle on you." he said, feeling my body. "Flex for me."
My face turned red as a sheepishly flexed an arm. I had a little muscle, but it was nothing compared to the cannons he already owned. Despite that, he started complimenting me on my progress, even going so far to say that he'd basically help train me if I asked.
"I mean, I don't know what your goals are, but if you wanna get some freaky mass, I can get you there." He flexed his biceps as he said that, the masses of veiny muscle hitting his fists.
The thought made my dick twitch, but I had to ask him something first.
"Is there a reason that you keep inviting me over so often?" I asked.
The question stopped him from flexing for a second, and it might have been the first time I ever saw him look embarrassed.
"Well, besides the fact that being fucked by you is one of the best feelings I've ever felt, I just, I don't know, I keep finding myself wishing you were with me when i was doing things. Life just feels better when you're around." He said.
I smiled, hearing that response. He was so genuinely sincere, so caught up in how embarrassing it is to admit his feelings. It felt nice to not be the awkward one with this pillar of masculinity. Maybe it felt good to be around him too.
"Well, I am trying to gain some muscle, so if you have any tips I--"
"Hell yes!" He yelled, punching the air as a sign of victory. "Don't you worry dude, I'm gonna make you a beast. You're gonna be rocking muscles like these, I guarantee it."
I couldn't wait.
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I Feel You Linger in the Air Ep 7 Stray Thoughts
Last week, Jom and Yai began their romance officially, and we saw further evidence that Jom's drawings are connected to the time travel or dimension hopping experience. Yai took Jom to a gay speakeasy, where James came out and expressed his attraction to Jom. Yai got jealous and turned a bit petty with Jom for a bit. However, the two had a beautiful moment where they agreed to try this. I really hope James doesn't betray us, because I liked him encouraging Yai to step up for Jom. We also confirmed that Euangphueng and Maey intentionally brought Fong Kaew to the house to distract Robert, and that Robert may be involved in the fire that killed Fong Kaew's dad and scarred her mother.
I am glad I saw a post earlier giving context that the poor women being murdered here are based on real people. Tee always has something to say about the real dangers queer people face in their lives, and it's a tense warning at the beginning of this relationship between Jom and Yai.
Unsurprisingly, the parents are anti-gay as their two queer kids suffer in front of them.
I already know this party is going to involve pairing Yai with a girl as a way to further secure the dad's power.
At least Jom has some sense.
Yai basically described what Fong Kaew is going through with this short story.
There goes Lamyai clocking them, and she's a gossip.
I have thoughts about them introducing Nuey last week, who cannot hide themselves, and Yai now being unable to do so now that he's connected with someone.
It's a good thing that Jom stood up for Prik. He has an ally who also cares about Yai to tell Lamyai to hush.
I find myself worrying about windows and sightlines a lot this episode. Euangphueng and Maey are having a moment and I'm worried that someone will see or hear.
I suspected that Maey has survived some horrible things, and this is as horrible as some of the things I imagined.
One of the things this show is getting right about existing under homophobic is the constant sense of surveillance hovering over you. Robert represents that so clearly.
Oh, sensual oils. This is promising.
This use of both mirrors with Jom out of focus is driving me insane.
Big fan of the little bit of stubble they keep showing on Yai.
Jom was loyal to Ohm. It's probably been a while since he was intimate with someone.
Intercutting the massage with Jom masturbating is one of the most erotic things I've seen that wasn't overly sex since ITSAY episode 3. The way this was shot and scored clearly indicates that they both came, or at least Yai was close.
As much as I like seeing Nonkul and Bright do sensual things as their characters, we gotta get Jom out of here. He comes from an era where he isn't a slave.
Guide is absolutely crushing this role as Ming. He has built incredible chemistry with Nonkul.
There's something private about the way Nonkul smiles that draws me in every time. Bright has a similar thing with his brows.
Yai is running around making mistakes while Lamyai is running around righteous.
And now Uncle Dech caught them, and immediately went to Yai's dad.
Even Ming, the fan favorite, is struggling with his friend being queer.
Oh, Ming, don't confess when you're drunk.
And there's the pairing Yai with a girl part of the party I expected.
Now why the hell are Euangphueng and Maey running off now? I'm gonna need all of the gays to get it together.
Absolutely obsessed with the possibility that there is a picture of Jom that survived to the modern era.
Yai, my dude, you cannot abandon the heteronormative rituals so publicly like this if you want to protect Jom.
Thinking about O'Shae Sibley, who was killed for voguing as these two dance outside.
I am not immune to BL fantasy sequences involving dances.
Why...are we rapping?? What in the Marty McFly is happening?
I am not immune to boys making out in the rain.
Okay, that horny want in Yai's face, and Jom nodding yes? They are about to fuck for sure. This is about to go south so quickly.
Yep, gay turmoil begins next week, but we may get some nice love scenes first.
That was a fantastic episode. They really balanced the danger of being outed with the inherent need to connect that bubbles over in all of us. I felt the fear for everyone's safety, but I actually really like how badly everyone was hiding this week. That's basically the point. You can't win. The only way to be safe in the closet is to be perfectly quiet and alone. You cannot have anyone if you want to be undiscovered. Two people can keep a secret if one of them is dead. Like Nuey last week, Yai and Jom cannot hide. There's no amount of careful that can hide the warm feelings between two people. This was perfectly executed.
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prompt: spider takes the bullet, not neteyam. quaritch will do anything to get his son back, anything. he'll even work with augustine's recom.
(warnings for discussions of past torture and character death, although really an astonishingly gen ending to this magnificent journey)
ao3
"They won't help you," he says. "You know that, right?"
Augustine stares at him, face studiously blank the way it used to get during long board meetings. He can see her tail twitching, though, ears flickering like she's trying to ward off a nonexistent fly.
Behind her, farther down the bloodstained rock, Mo'at'ite hisses, knuckles white around her bow (that bow, that fuckingbow, but Quaritch won't look at it, anymore than he'll look at the body at Augustine's feet). She and Sully both have their weapons drawn, but Quaritch isn't the slow target he was in the AMP anymore and Augustine's standing tall, fucking up their sightlines.
"Kiri," Sully says, voice taut. "You gotta get out of the way, babygirl--"
Quaritch barks a laugh, the ragged kind that comes when you're teetering on the edge of hysteria. "Babygirl? You shitting me?" He shakes his head. "Come the fuck on, doc. The Augustine I know would've put out her cigarette on any man who tried that shit with her."
"She isn't Grace," Sully says hoarsely. "Kiri, stand down now. That's an order."
Quaritch doesn't even dignify that shit with a response, just rolls his eyes (easier to avoid looking at the ground, at the body). Augustine doesn't seem particularly moved either, her fingers flexing as she adjusts her stance.
She could kill him, Quaritch knows, without any help from her so-called mommy and daddy. He can feel the power crackling in the air around her, buzzing around her fists, blood-metallic on his tongue. It makes his kuru ache, same way it had in the woods--back then, he'd been too focused on Spider Spider Spider to really pay attention.
He knows better, now. He'd seen what she'd done to Lyle after Sully's voice has crackled over the line, sharp and cold and still shaking ever so slightly: your boy's dead, one of your dumb fucking grunts shot him. Let my daughters go, or you're next. Sully's always been a shit liar, but it was the panicked look at Lyle's face that made it impossible to deny.
Fucking Lyle. He's lucky the way Augustine turned his brain to slurry when she did, before Quaritch could get his hands on him. Lucky he doesn't have to fucking stand here and not look at the thing on the ground, the thing, the body--
"You think they'll even let you bury him?" he asks. "The locals won't stand to have this shit in their holy grounds--they'll probably give him back to Spellman so he can get dumped in a fucking crematorium. You'll never see your Monkey Boy again."
The pipsqueak with the eyebrows, tail lashing. "Don't you talk to her--" he growls, but Augustine cuts him off.
"I'll never see him either way." Her voice is hoarse--Quaritch remembers the way she screamed on the ship, like something had been torn loose in her and would never be put right. He knows that feeling.
"Kiri," the older boy says, the one Lyle had screamed something about trying to shoot instead as his blood ran out of his eyes. "Kir, please, come on--"
"We've got his memories," Quaritch cuts him off fast, can't let her get swayed by her fake family now. "At Bridgehead, we--we scanned them. Got a copy." If they're still there; they better be still there. The kid had thrown a shitfit in the scanner like every time before, but he'd still gone into the revamped Soul Drive with the rest of them.
"You hurt him." There's blood dripping from the tips of her fingers; he wonders if Sully and the rest have realized it's not hers.
"I did," Quaritch admits, because he doesn't have any time to fuck around. "Whatever you want to call me, whatever I've done, you're right. But I want him back, you understand? I mean it, you know I do."
She does. He can feel this fucking eyes of hers burn into him, bright with whatever wacky upgrades she got from her own trip through the other side, flaying him deeply enough she can see Spider Socorro's name written on her heart, same way it's written on hers. Kid's always had that fucking way about him.
"I want him back and none of these assholes will help, none of them could if they fucking wanted to, but I can." Quaritch takes a step forward and the Sullys tense, knuckles white on their weapons. "And you--you've got the know-how, you're the egghead I need in my corner. You brought yourself back, didn't you?"
"She didn't--" Sully whines.
"Didn't she?" Quaritch doesn't bother looking at him, keeps his eyes firmly on Augustine as he holds out a hand. She looks at it, then at him, those little flashy lights twinkling across her skin like she's rebooting. Remembering.
"I offered you a chance to make amends and work on this moon together, once." She knows what he's talking about, he can see it. "You told me to go stick my dick in a woodchipper, and you were right. But I don't care about that anymore, I don't give a fuck about this stupid mudball we're on or the stupid mud ball we're from, I just want my son."
His gaze flicks to her family, just for a second, then back to her. "They don't see anything about you except the meatsuit, same way those RDA pukes did with me. And they don't see anything about--" His breath catches, twists, "him, except that he's a big fucking mistake, and they'll do everything they can to forget he ever existed."
Silence. Her jaw works and he wonders if she wishes she had a cigarette right now--seeing her without one feels more jarring than the baby face or the blue skin.
"Kiri," the little girl whines, reaching out before the Metkayina girl carefully tugs her back. "Kiri, please."
Augustine's hair rustles with a wind that doesn't exist and her fists curls tight at her side, fingers trembling. Quaritch wonders if she's going to burn him like she burned Lyle, or maybe just call up something big and toothy to rip him apart.
And she might have, if Sully hadn't decided to lunge across the island in a few big, stupid strides, clapping his hand down her shoulder. "Kiri," he gasps, tugging her back. "Come on--"
Her eyes flare (panic anger fear, quick and smashed-up the way it always came with her) and she whirls, queue crackling, palms raised high. Sully goes staggering backward with a yelp, clutching his bleeding nose, and Mo'at'ite lunges to catch him before his head hits the rock. Augustine watches him topple, stunned still, gaping in horror.
Then she moves. Turns and scoops the...body up from the ground, cradling it (him) carefully to her chest even as she hustles down the rock. No vocalization, but her banshee swoops down from the sky, landing with a whomp of wings next to Cupcake, and she's hauling the body (Spider) onto the saddle before Quaritch's got his first leg up Cupcake's side.
"Kir!" Pipsqueak yells, rushing to their side, frantic. "Kir, wait, don't--"
She holds out a hand and he jerks to a half, from his own volition or hers it's hard to say. "Look after them," she says, and then Quaritch is fitting his own queue home, not that Cupcake needs more encouragement to go go go as they soar into the sky.
They go swoop out over the smoldering sea, Augustine's hair--Spider's hair--whipped gently by the wind. Quaritch glances over his shoulder to see the Sullys vanishing, a scatter of blue dots rapidly fading from view.
"They won't follow us," Augustine calls flatly. "Their ikran won't listen until we're out of range." She shoots him a cold look, hand resting on his son's spine--Quaritch doubts he's getting near that body any time soon, but that doesn't matter, he'll make it not matter. "Lead the way, Ranger Rick."
"Yes, ma'am," he says, just to be an asshole, tossing off a snide salute before leaning into the next turn. She bares her teeth the way the kid used and follows, banshees swerving together to meet the rising sun.
#avatar#avatar the way of water#avatar series#miles quaritch#kiri te suli kìreysì'ite#spider socorro#character death#avatar au#major character death#grace augustine#reincarnation#recombinant#sully family#torture mention#I wish you would write a fic where#mutuals#neytiri te tskaha mo'at'ite#jake sully#lo'ak te suli tsyeyk'itan#neteyam te suli tsyeyk'itan#tsireya#tuktirey te suli neytiri'ite#little goddess#kiri augustine#kiri sully#avatar movies#we're nothing to each other#atwow au#canon divergence#colonel quaritch
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Moment of Weakness-fourteen
*credit to whoever created the gif. found on google/Pinterest *
Pairings: Mob!Bucky Barnes x reader
Warnings: language, smut, angst, fluff, affair, cheating, violence.
Summary: Reader is the assistant to New York's most feared mob boss, James Buchanan Barnes. He had the picture-perfect life: status in the mob, friends, and beautiful wife. So why can't he keep his mind and eyes off of reader?
Authors Notes: I'm thinking of possibly getting one more update out today.
Tags(open): @splendidreads @sebsgirl71479 @mdpplgtz03 @pattiemac1 @unaxv @elizacusi-blog @alana4610 @broadwaybabe18 @themayzittcha @playboystark @raajali3 @ozwriterchick @ragamuffin285 @screamingdying @themorningsunshine @kenziekugler22 @calwitch @sebastianstansqueen @stanaddict @stucky-simp03 @sleyeveryday @loustan90 @lyra-black13 @valsworldofcreativity @cjand10 @tesseract69 @batprincess1013 @subwaysurf45 @arsonfrogger @winters1917 @yoruse @5moremin @lipstickandtanqueray @mandijo17 @joannaromanoff @justsebstan
The office was a comforting quiet, the noises of my keyboard clicking, soft music playing from Bucky’s office, and me humming along to that said music. It was Friday, which meant the end of the week and a nice relaxing weekend in the sightline ahead. I didn’t have much planned, maybe seeing if Bucky would come by for a late night rendezvous but as he mentioned to me countless times, the weekends are harder for him to leave Natasha because she always had something planned for them.
The jealousy nibbled away at my heart, picturing the two of them getting to do all of these sweet, romantic things out in the open while I was hidden in the darkness, almost forgotten.
It’s what you signed up for.
Shaking the thought from my mind, I forced myself to focus on my work.
“Where the fuck is he?!”
I glanced over the top of my computer screen and saw a very angry Clint Barton barging his way into the building, making a straight line towards Bucky’s office.
Bucky was on the phone, unable to deal with Clint, so I quickly stood and shut his door.
“He’s busy,” I told Clint, blocking his path from Bucky.
“This doesn’t concern you,” Clint stated.
He tried to walk around me but I was a tad bit faster, blocking his path again.
“You can come back when Bucky has time to see you. Make an appointment.”
Clint’s jaw clenched. “Barnes didn’t have an appointment when he barged into my house last night to drag Natasha away.”
I swallowed. “Well, it must have been for a good reason if he dragged his wife away.”
“Do you know how disrespected I felt, having him come into my home, in front of everyone I had there, to drag out his wife? He’s so jealous that he refuses to let her have a friendship with me.”
I ignored the pain I felt and shook my head. “It doesn’t sound like Bucky.”
Clint chuckled darkly. “You don’t know him well enough then. Now, move out of my way.”
“Can’t let you in there,” I backed up against the door.
The anger radiated off of him now and he gripped me elbow tight, undoubtedly leaving marks, and practically dragged me away from the door. I ripped my arm out of his grasp and swung my fist into his cheek, knocking him away from me as he stumbled back over his feet.
“Keep your fucking hands off of me,” I seethed.
Clint pulled his hand away from his lips, blood dripping from it onto the ground. Darkness clouded his iris’s and as he advanced towards me, Bucky stepped out of his office and leaned against the frame of the door, arms over his chest. The amusement on his face didn’t go unnoticed by me.
“You’ve got a lot of nerve showing up here and putting your hands on her, Barton.”
Clint scoffed while wiping the blood from his lip with the sleeve of his shirt. “You’ve pissed off the wrong guy, Y/N.”
“Oh, fuck you Barton. I’m not worried about you,” I spoke.
Bucky nodded towards the door of the building, telling him to leave before it got worse and reluctantly, Clint walked out while licking his wounds.
“Asshole,” I grumbled while looking at Bucky.
He was already watching me and slowly licked his lips, desire pooling in his eyes.
My panties soaked with my own desire at the look he was giving me. “What?”
“That was fucking hot,” he moaned.
Our naked bodies lay tangled together in a heap on the couch in his office, both coming down from our shared high. Bucky’s vibranium fingers dragged up and down my back while I pressed my cheek deeper into his bare chest, my own fingers ghosting over the scars on his shoulder, leaving a kiss there every so often.
“Bucky?”
He hummed; eyes closed from the pure bliss he felt.
I linked my hand with his vibranium one. “I’ve noticed you never wear a wedding ring.”
Bucky shrugged. “I’ve never been big on jewelry.”
With a nod, I snuggled closer into his embrace and allowed myself to enjoy the last few minutes of quiet solace before Steve or Sam came to work and caught us. It was risky being together at work but yet Bucky and I continued to fall into one another when we were alone here.
Figuratively and literally.
Suddenly, Bucky’s phone began to ring quite loud, eviscerating our solace together and with a sad sigh, I pulled myself away from him. He reached down to the floor and dug out the phone from his discarded pants.
His eyes jumped from the phone to me, a frown pulling at his lips. He didn’t need to say who was calling, it was evident in the way he stood and walked to the other end of his office.
I marveled at the way his back muscles twitched with every movement, as he stood with his backside towards me, naked, baring his entire self to me. My bottom lips caught between my teeth as I fought the urge to go up to him, wrap my arms around him, and kiss his entire back.
“Hi, Nat….wait, slow down. What are you saying?......Yeah, he did show up about an hour ago, upset about last night….You can’t get upset with me, you knew what you were walking into last night when you went to Clint’s house. I’m glad I got there in time. I don’t care that the two of you are good friends, he put everyone there in danger. Including you.”
I couldn’t help but wonder what exactly happened last night that Bucky had to drag Natasha out of Clint’s house.
“I'm not going to fire her, Nat. Barton put his hands on her first. She was defending herself…..Of course I'm defending her actions because she did what anyone should do….. You're being ridiculous, she works for me.”
Bucky never said my name, he didn’t have too. I knew they were talking about me.
He turned to face me with guilty eyes and breathed deep. “Nat, there's nothing between us. I would be doing the same thing if it happened to Steve or Sam….Yeah, we can have a date tonight, just me and you…Of course sweetheart.”
I could hear Natasha’s voice rambling on about something but it was white noise to Bucky as his eyes raked over my bare body while I lounged on the couch, legs spread wide for him. It wasn’t my intention to distract him from his call, this was the only way my body would fit on the small couch.
Bucky’s pupils were blown wide with lust, the blueness of them a thing of the past, as he chewed roughly on his bottom lip.
“I have to go, I’ll call you when I leave the office.”
He didn’t bother to wait for her to say goodbye, him ending the call and placing his phone on his desk, making sure to silence it this time.
“You’re such a fucking tease, doll.”
I didn’t have a chance to explain myself before Bucky was on top of me once again, the tip of his cock pressed at my entrance.
A small grimace crossed my features as I did my best to gather up my things, ready to go home for the weekend. My knees were weak and the bruise forming on my ass from the smacks Bucky pressed with his vibranium hand were causing me a bit of pain as I walked.
This time in his office was rough, in the most euphoric way. I blamed it on the sheer thought of us getting caught that caused Bucky to act so dominant.
Not that I complained one bit.
Vibranium fingers wrapped around my throat while Bucky slammed his hip with vigor behind me, pulling my back close to his chest, flesh fingers digging deep into my hips.
Absent-mindedly, I rubbed at the small bruises on my hips as the memory of us together kept replaying in my mind like a movie.
“Bucky, we’ve got a problem!”
Steve’s voice boomed throughout the office as he came running out of his office. His eyes landed on mine as Bucky emerged from his own office, curiosity on his face.
“What’s going on?” He asked.
Steve didn’t say a word, simply handed his phone to Bucky, who read whatever was on there. The fear that took over Bucky’s expression made my stomach flip.
“What is it?” I asked, taking the phone from Bucky.
“Doll, don’t-.”
He tried to stop me from taking it but I smacked his hands away, eyes scanning over the email that had both Steve and Bucky scared to death.
Hit for Y/N Y/L/N. Preferably alive but dead works too. Half a mil.
C.B.
All of the blood drained from my body, it began to tremble with fear. I stood frozen, unsure of what to say or even do.
“Clint put a hit out on me,” the words forming but faltering just the same.
Bucky punched the wall behind me with his vibranium hand but the noise did nothing to deter my current state.
“Motherfucker,” Bucky cursed. “He’s dead.”
Sweat gathered at my forehead, the thoughts of some random people trying to either kidnap me or worse taking over my mind.
“What are we going to do?” I asked, looking between the two men.
“I’m going to stay with you tonight, make sure you’re safe, until we can think of a plan,” Bucky said.
I nodded. “Wait, aren’t Natasha and Clint friends?”
There was a flash of something unreadable in Bucky’s eyes. “There’s no way she knew about this. She wants nothing to do with the mob part of my life.”
Even with his own words, Bucky couldn’t believe it one hundred percent.
“I think we should keep this between us, as far as Clint goes, he has no idea that I know about this. One of my informants forwarded this email to me,” Steve said.
Bucky nodded, the idea of keeping a secret from his wife becoming easier to him.
Then the front door to the building open causing both Steve and Bucky to put me behind them, ready to fight whoever stepped inside.
“Woah, jumpy aren't we?” Natasha chuckled.
The three of us breathed a bit easier; for now.
“Nat, what are you doing here?” Bucky asked with a pinched expression.
Her face faltered. “Our date. You promised.”
Bucky’s shoulders dropped. “Right. Well, something came-.”
“Nope,” I interrupted him. “His schedule for the night cleared up.”
We needed to make sure that Natasha had no idea about Clint and the best way to do that was to keep up the same appearances before, even if that meant Bucky wouldn't be with me tonight. There wasn’t a doubt in my mind that she had to know something and the only one of us that could possibly find that out was him.
His eyes sliced into me. “I thought that-.”
I shook my head, stopping him. “Steve can come with me. It’ll be a fast errand, won’t take up most of his night. Right?”
Steve quickly picked up on what I actually meant and nodded towards Bucky. “I’ll make sure nothing happens.”
Bucky’s jaw clenched with spite but eventually nodded in agreement.
“Perfect, let's go!” Natasha linked her arm through Bucky’s in hopes to urge him along.
“I’ll check in later, alright?” Bucky said while being pulled from the building, gone from my line of sight.
Steve placed a hand on my shoulder, giving it a comforting squeeze, and I looked up at him with an immense amount of fear.
“I’m scared, Steve,” I admitted with a shaky breath.
He pulled me into his warm embrace, lips ghosting over my hairline.
“It’s alright. I’m not leaving your side tonight.”
#mob!bucky barnes#mob!bucky barnes x reader#mob!bucky barnes and reader#mob!bucky barnes x yn#mob!bucky barnes and yn#mob!bucky barnes reader insert#bucky barnes#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes and reader#sebastian stan#moment of weakness-mob!bucky barnes
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are requests open? if so could we see an update on the long weekend!Harry x y/n … how are they doing?? still going at it with their friends nearby? how’s his ex?
A/n: I know this has been in my inbox for ages. Sorry I'm just getting to it! Enjoy a little Christmas one shot/update with The Long Weekend Harry 2.1k words
Warning: Smut (oral sex), FLUFF
You realized quickly that you and Harry were very compatible. It was so strange going from friends to strangers who couldn’t stand being around one another, to suddenly completely and madly in love, inseparable and nauseating to those around you.
You couldn’t help it, though. Harry was amazing and things just worked. Really well. Sex was off the charts. Harry got into the habit of waking you up with his face in between your thighs. And you two quickly started staying with one another, both hating to be apart for even a night. So the new morning ritual started early on.
Now you and Harry have been together for over a year and Christmas was just around the corner. You had officially moved into his house with him. Moving in was easy. You two were it for one another. Absolutely smitten. Obsessed. Marriage would be next, but you were happy enjoying things the way they were.
And Harry lapping at your clit as your eyes were barely cracked open on the cold December morning felt like just another beautiful day to you, despite the frigid temperatures outside. Well, maybe not frigid, but certainly colder than normal. California winters were not bad like you’d experienced in Chicago on a trip a few years back. You could handle this. Especially with Harry’s warm, wet mouth on your pussy.
“Fuck. Harry…” you moaned, the first words you’d speak of the day. Harry only hummed in response; his mouth too busy to speak a real reply. When you slid a hand into his curls and pressed him in deeper, he moaned and looked up at you.
“I love you, Harry. Oh my god…” his lips were magic. You threw your head back into the feather pillow and panted. He was so good and you couldn’t understand why. Why was he like this? Why did he take such good care of you and treat you with morning head regularly?
His ex came around only a few more times after they broke up. She was part of the friend group, but very loosely. You felt bad for her at first. You’d stolen her boyfriend in a way. No one liked her that much and when she came to a get-together that was planned before Harry broke up with her, it was super awkward.
She was very sweet to you. Kept following and would compliment you, try and make small talk and that was all good and well but it was weird. And then you realized her angle. She was sussing everything out. Trying to see if you were the real deal for Harry or not.
The get-together after that one was at Harry’s. She arrived and stuck to Harry’s side as the nice, understanding, and likable ex. Just a pal. A good buddy but you could see she had an ulterior motive.
But Harry shut her down effectively and he only ever made you feel secure and loved in the relationship.
“Come on baby. Fucking come, honey. Need to taste it,” Harry moaned into your pussy.
The addition of his fingers did you in. You clenched down and gasped, yanking his hair with a tug that pushed his face into your pussy hard.
Your orgasm was wet and hot and beautiful. As always. Harry was so good. And so you returned the favor as soon as you caught your breath.
You pushed him down to his back and settled between his thighs and gave him a sloppy and nasty blow job that had you gagging on his big cock when he spurted come down your throat.
A typical morning really.
You and Harry got ready for work after. A quick shower, coffee, a piece of toast, and a kiss goodbye.
Harry left before you did. You were sitting down on the couch and pulling your shoes on when you noticed a single-wrapped gift under the Christmas tree. You squinted at it when you slid your last shoe on and crawled to grab the gift, lifting it to your sightline.
To Y/n | From Harry
It wasn’t a large gift. Something small and wrapped nicely, which had you wondering if someone else wrapped the present for you. Your last Christmas with Harry was before you lived with him, and you two were still relatively new in your relationship. His wrapping jobs were all over the place, wrinkled paper, bunched up pieces of tape, hand writing directly on the wrapping paper to indicate who the gift was for.
You laughed when you thought about last year’s Christmas with him. You had to celebrate early because he was going back to London to visit his family. This year, he was all yours. He had gone to see his mother and sister in October for a couple of weeks. And he’d be going back in April to see them again, but in April, you were joining him to meet his mother finally.
Placing the gift back under the tree you sighed. You had all his gifts on your side of the closet, hidden and not yet wrapped.
When you got home after work, Harry was already there making dinner, which was unusual. Typically, you both cooked together. One of you cleaning up after the other or getting ingredients out for the other. He had some classic Christmas music playing lightly and a bottle of wine sat out on the counter.
“Harry?” You entered the kitchen and wrapped your arms around his back, “What are you doing cooking already?”
It was a little early for dinner but you really didn’t mind the gesture.
“Just thought I wanted to make something special. Will take a little while to cook up anyway. My mum’s recipe.”
He handed you his cell phone so you could see what it was he was making. It was a photo of a handwritten recipe for baked polenta layered with mushroom ragu. It seemed quite involved. It made sense why he had already begun.
When he put the dish into the oven he poured you a glass of wine and you both sat on the couch, cozied up together. You talked about your day and then you remembered the gift he’d placed under the tree.
“I noticed you put a gift under the tree for me already,” you smiled at him and sipped your wine.
Harry smiled, a sneaky expression on his face and he nodded, “I did.”
“I haven’t wrapped any of yours yet. Maybe tonight I’ll get them all out here so we can have gifts under the tree. It’ll look so nice.”
You learned, as you ate the delicious meal Harry had cooked, that the gift that was under the tree was the only gift he’d gotten you, “I hope that’s okay. I just… it was kind of expensive and figured you wouldn’t mind anyway, right?” He smirked at you. Of course, you didn’t mind but now you were even more curious about the little gift that was about the size of a ring box.
As the days drew closer to Christmas, you realized how exceptionally amazing Harry was being toward you. Not that he wasn’t always amazing, but he was going the extra mile with dinner, clean up, lovey dove stuff, making you come… you couldn’t complain but he was just being a bit extra.
“Why are you so giving and so sweet? I love it, but why? Did you do something wrong and you’re trying to make up for it?” You raised a brow at him after he’d just got done ravishing your pussy. You were both lying in bed, still breathing heavily and red in the face from the exertion of sex.
Harry curled up next to you and laid his head over your tummy and stuck one arm under you, his other wrapping around your middle and he squeezed, “Just love you so much. That’s all. I really want you to be happy with me.”
You fluffed his hair and sighed, “I’m happy with you, Harry. You know that.”
Harry turned his face downward and kissed your tummy, squeezing you a little tighter.
On Christmas Eve you and Harry invited your closest friends over. Everyone was drinking and opening gifts they’d gotten. Harry manned the record player, being sure to keep a good flow of classic Christmas music going. It was probably your favorite Christmas ever. You had your close friends and Harry in your little house together. Everyone was wearing silly little Christmas sweaters. Harry’s had lights on it, and he wore a Santa hat. Even with the goofy sweater and hat, Harry was still hot as fuck.
You cornered him in the hallway after he was finished using the bathroom and pushed him into your bedroom for a quick kiss.
Harry laughed into your mouth, not expecting your sudden attack.
“I love you, Harry. I’m gonna need you to fuck me while you’re wearing that stupid Santa hat when our friends leave. M’kay?” You pulled him back down to kiss his mouth and when you released him, Harry just stood with his mouth dropped open as he looked at you silently.
“What? Are you surprised? You’re hot, baby,” you chuckled as you turned to leave the room.
Harry grabbed your arm and pulled you back into his body and kissed your mouth hard, “Can’t talk to me like that and expect me to just let you walk away. Might need to give you your Christmas gift a little early then,” he smiled down at you.
“Yeah? I’m curious as to what’s in the tiny box.”
You and Harry reentered the living room and Jennifer stood up when she saw you, “There you are. Was wondering if you guys had ditched us for your bed or something,” she laughed.
“Almost,” you replied. You’d had a little to drink so you weren’t feeling embarrassed by your admission.
It was another two hours before everyone began to leave. You and Harry did a bit of cleanup but decided to leave everything for the next day. You were a little tipsy and pretty tired. Plus you were ready to get Harry in bed.
“Come on big guy…” you pulled at his sweater.
Harry huffed a laugh and grinned, “Ya know… since you’re gonna make me wear this dumb hat I think it’s only fair that I make you wear something too,” he raised his brows at you and pulled you to the living room
Harry ducked down and reached under the tree, pulling the box up. The one gift he’d gotten for you.
You both sat on the couch and he gave the box to you, “Open it. I want you to have it tonight.”
You smiled and began to unwrap the box. Harry got off the couch and turned the living room light off so only the lights on the Christmas tree were illuminating your faces.
When you tossed the paper onto the coffee table you lifted the little box and realized it was definitely a jewelry box. The moment you put your hand onto the top to lift the lid, Harry got down onto one knee in front of you and you paused, a look of confusion on your face, “What are you doing?”
Harry licked his lips and smiled excitedly, “Open it.”
You blinked a few times and suddenly you knew what this was. He’d been so sweet to you the entire week leading up to this night. Sweeter and more amazing than normal. He mentioned the gift was expensive and so it was all he could really afford to get you this year. The small hints he’d been dropping, saying things like, “Can’t wait to make a family with you,” or, “You’re wifey material,” and asking you, “Do you like diamonds?” It all started to add up. Now, you’d expected that he’d ask you to marry him one day. But you didn’t know this was it. That this was what was happening until he got down onto his knee.
“Harry!” You put the box down into your lap and cupped your mouth with your hands when you realized what was happening.
Harry lifted the box with one hand and with his other he opened the lid to reveal exactly what you knew it would be. He kept the box in his palm and took your hands from your mouth and kissed the top of your knuckles as he looked at you.
Before he could even get the words out you were crying. But when he asked you, when he finally said the words, “Will you marry me?” it was like everything around you stopped all at once.
Harry watched your face as you went from shock to overwhelming happiness, to nodding your head and pulling him to your body for a kiss.
Yes, this was certainly the best Christmas you’d ever had.
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#harry styles smut#harry styles#harry styles one shot#harry styles fic#firstpost#harry styles fanfic
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Where is Barney in your head canon? How well or how little does he know about adult Clint?
My headcanon backstory for the Barton brothers isn’t exactly canon so it’s different but still has a lot of the same beats just jumbled around a bit.
Basically I wanted to keep the major elements ie Circus, abusive childhood, and tumultuous sibling relationship and play around with others. So the basic rundown is this:
Barney is older by about four years, the pair were orphaned when Barney was four to Carson and his traveling circus and remained with them until the cops busted Carson’s money laundering business when Clint was nine in what they refer to as “The Big Bust.” After that they were placed in foster care and adopted by a widowed man that hit the bottle hard and the boys harder. Barney unable to stand the abuse quickly turned to numbing himself with illicit substances and a life of petty crime. The hairline fracture in their relationship happened when Barney fell asleep at the wheel and Clint had to guide the car into a ditch. First full on fracture happened when Barney woke a thirteen year old Clint up in the middle of the night with a backpack slung over his shoulders and six hundred dollars buried at the junkyard down the road.
Barney didn’t want to abandon his brother but a criminal venture/position opened up in Hell’s Kitchen. (What Clint later figures out, the real reason though is like soooooo much worse). With Barney out of the picture the abuse at home got so bad Clint ran off to the military at sixteen (his recruiter fudged the birthdate when he saw the bruises). Clint fucks around in the military and then gets recruited for SHIELD because he’s just that fucking good.
In Hell’s Kitchen Barney rises in the ranks, and eventually meets Laura who he later marries in a Las Vegas wedding drive thru. He also meets [REDACTED] and in turn catches Phil’s/SHIELD eyes and they send Clint.
Finally the pair meet after nearly a decade of not speaking or seeing each other and it’s not under happy circumstances.
Due to his influence with [REDACTED] and [REDACTED]’s criminal empire Clint’s forced to choose between old family and his new place with SHIELD. Ultimately Clint chooses SHIELD.
Barney would understand, at least that is what Clint tells himself when he’s too racked with guilt to sleep.
Now I can’t reveal much after this point as what I’ve planned would contain spoilers for future installments in the Sightline Universe (?)
But I will leave you with this line…
“Hey Clint.”
As for how little or how much Barney knows about Clint’s adulthood after the military, I would say he only knew the bare basics. He really only knew that last he heard his baby brother was making a man out of himself by joining the military. He didn’t know Clint had joined Shield until they reunited. He figured Clint was on the right path, no sense in his useless druggie brother fucking that up when he was the one to abandon him.
Eventually (possibly in the future, wink wink) they reunite again, maybe they are able to salvage some of their relationship over a couple beers and a trade of fists. Maybe Barney joins one of the alphabet agencies, and maybe they have to revisit that fateful night so long ago and reveal the whole truth and nothing but the truth.
Who knows! The world is a crazy place and fate is fickle.
(Oh! And totally fancasting Daniel Craig as Barney Barton, credit to whoever came up with that first because it’s brilliant)
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You're the only one - C.S
"I like smaller gatherings rather than large parties, I don't know. I have more fun." Chris says with a smile to me as I nod, agreeing with his statement. The music is playing on a low volume in the background, but still loud enough to sing along to the lyrics. It is a small gathering at Chris' apartment, he only invited a few friends including me. We all know each other pretty well, so there's a comfortable energy hanging in the air.
Chris is wearing his favorite shirt, the camouflage one and it fits him really well. I think it might be my favorite too, but I'm used to subduing these thoughts about Chris. He's walking around socializing and sipping on a hard seltzer, his baggy jeans barely holding themselves up on his waist and showing off the waistband of his gray underwear, without a single care. He is constantly fixing his cap which he has on backwards, and everytime he does that my breath hitch a little.
As the hours pass by us, the get-together gets smaller one by one. People leaving as they say their goodbyes to the rest of us, yawning or drunkenly walking. I smile as the last of our mutuals hugs both me and Chris tightly and leaves. My heart is beating a little faster knowing now that me and Chris are alone together. We are friends, but everytime his shirt rides up a bit my heart stops or there is even times Chris puts his hand on my lower back and I get aroused right there. It is embarrassing but I can't make my feelings known, I suppress them knowing the damage this do to me. Chris sighs, pulling me out of my thoughts, and he walks over to the corner cabinet in the kitchen. I look curiously in his direction when he turns around, only holding a small clear plastic bag. "Chris, is that...?" I say smirking before Chris interrupts me. "Yes, this is pure happiness if that was what you were thinking." he says back to me smiling while slightly shaking the bag. The bag is filled with what looks like small dark green mossy spheres. The urge to smoke weed has never been this high, and I usually smoke pretty often. The thought of me alone with Chris smoking is... exciting to say the least.
Chris shows me his work, a joint tightly rolled and I smile examining his work. "And the award for the most beautiful joint goes to... Chris Sturniolo!" I say loudly, laughing knowing I made a corny joke. "Thank you, thank you!" Chris laughs loudly while making a half-assed attempt at bowing. We sit down on the couch, Chris groaning as he realizes that he forgot the lighter. "Fuck..." Chris states, and I look at him with a wondering expression on my face. "I forgot the lighter in the cabinet." Chris sighs and I smile a teethy grin. "Don't worry, I'll get it for us." I say excitedly, I just want to smoke so I can feel relaxed around Chris, especially since without knowing it he has been teasing me all night. I get up and walk over to the cabinet adjusting my jeans, they are supposed to be low-waisted but they ride up all the time making me irritated. I stop in my tracks, unbuttoning my jeans and letting them ride down, accidentally losing my grip. The jeans hooks themselves onto my ass, revealing my panties if anyone had been looking. I pull them back up, giggling to myself hoping Chris didn't see it. I look back, and Chris quickly look in my eyes smiling. I shake the naughty thoughts out of my head and grab the lighter from the cabinet. I toss the lighter to Chris, and I see him lighting the joint up while I walk back over. I plummet down onto the couch, my stomach aching for the taste of pure happiness on my tongue. Chris is so focused on the first few hits, my thoughts start to wander but they quickly disappear as the joint is in my sightline. Chris smiles handing the joint to me. "Don't choke on it" he laughs, continuning to speak. "Like I did the first time." I look at Chris, and I grin. "Come on now, you can't possibly think this is my first time. I tried weed before I even knew what alcohol was. Like let's be so for real." I laugh while bringing the joint to my mouth. I inhale the smoke and let it travel slowly down my throat, enjoying the taste of it before I blow the remaining out. "Shit, my bad. How can I not know this about you? We've been friends for so long." he asks genuinely, and I shrug. "Never thought it was important enough." I smirk taking another hit before passing it back to Chris already feeling the calming effects. It was true, we had been friends for a few years and he knew everything about me. Clearly not, but most of my embarrassing and deepest secrets lies within Chris. If he remembers it ofcourse. We were just friends, but I've been hiding my feelings for so long, wondering often if he ever felt the same. I take a hit, pass the joint back, he takes a hit, passes it back. The vibe in the room is calm, yet there's something else I just can't put my finger on what it is. I look deep into Chris' eyes allowing myself to fall into them, and I swear he looks at me the same.
Suddently there is faint sounds from a phone call. Both Chris and I, without breaking off the eye contact, search for our phones frantically to see who's phone it is. I finally find my phone, and it is an old friend calling me. Ashley, a childhood friend of mine is calling. This can't be good, since we don't talk that much. "I need to answer, it's a childhood friend and I don't think she's doing good" I explain to Chris and he nods letting me answer.
"Yoooo tall girl" I groan at the nickname I've had since we were children. "Where the fuck are you at? I need to see you" Ashley yells over the phone, and I notice immediately that she's drunk. Out of the corner of my eye I see Chris reacting too, but it wasn't because she was drunk. "Ashley? What the fuck?" Chris looks at me baffled, but about to laugh. "How do you know Ashley?" I look into his eyes and are about to ask how he knows her. "Tall girl why are you with my ex?" Ashley asks looking like she is about to cry. Everything that is happening makes me confused and I'm high so I start laughing. Chris starts laughing too, and Ashley scoffs. "I understand it didn't end well" I continue to laugh making Ashley upsetter by the minute. "Well yeah, he fucked my best friend and broke up with me. I fucking hate him." Ashley replies angry. I look over at Chris with my mouth open as he finds this amusing. He whispers to me that he'll explain later. Ashley's voice is heard again yelling profanity at Chris even though she doesn't see him. "And one last thing before I hang up on your fake friend ass, he has the smallest dick I've ever seen." she screams at me and hangs up. My mouth is hanging while I look at Chris surprised, laughing. "What the actual fuck just happened?" I laugh even more. "I don't even know" he laughs even more. Feeling the need to clarify why Ashley and I are friends, I tell Chris that even though we are childhood friends, we had a falling out a couple years ago but that she had called a year prior and wanted to rekindle the friendship. Chris understands and wants to explain what happened between him and his ex. "She came home one time from a party, at the party she cheated on me and I didn't know. A mutual told me, a fucking mutual. I asked her when she came through the door what happened. She threw herself at me wanting to have sex 'one last time'." He says quoting her on the last phrase. "I broke up right there and she screamed and cried. Never saw her again." he shrugs as if he doesn't care. I move closer to him to try and comfort him, but Chris only smiles. "I don't care, I'm over her and have someone else in my thoughts." Chris smiles. My stomach feels like a thousand knives are being stabbed into. Fuck, I didn't even have the chance to sleep with him first.
I try to ignore the feeling in my stomach while I joke around with Chris. "But you do have small dick energy" I laugh, as Chris' gaze deepens but lightens up again. "Why don't you see for yourself instead?" Chris states smiling. My stomach drops again, did he just say that? No, we're friends. He didn't mean it. But he looked at my ass earlier, or I think he did. Did he? Yes, he did. He leans forward to grab the joint to take another hit washing it down with whatever's left in his red plastic cup. The entire situation with Ashley made the night feel so much longer than it needed to be, and now when there is another sensation between my legs I ignore it. One thing though, when you're not supposed to be thinking of something, that's the only thing on your mind. I thought about Chris slowly making his way down on me, how he kisses, if he's big or not. Especially that, does he have a girther dick rather than a long one? These things running my mind while Chris talks mindlessly about anything makes me horny, and wet, and...
"Hey idiot!" Chris calls, and I snap out of my thoughts seeing the joint in front of my face. "I asked if you wanted the last hit?" he says but bringing the joint back to his face, meaning I missed my chance. In my horny state of mind I quickly get over to Chris and demands he shotgun kiss me. Without hesitating he drags the last smoke out of the joint, and exhale. The smoke dancing between us before finally ending up in my mouth and I lean my head back inhaling the last of it.
I give Chris' soft lips a peck and thank him for doing that for me. Chris' eyes shoot up and his mouth is open. I lay down on the couch before I realize what the fuck I did. Fuck, this is the alcohol mixed with the weed making a move on me. I quickly stand up. "Chris, I don't feel so good. I'm going to the bathroom." I say without even waiting for Chris' reply. I get to the bathroom, and I see myself in the mirror. I'm swaying left and right, feeling like the weed really hit me now. I laugh at myself. "It doesn't matter, it was friendly" my now heavily intoxicated thoughts affecting my feelings. What I didn't know was that after that kiss and watching me walk away Chris groaned wishing it wasn't just a kiss. He had been watching me all night wishing to fuck me, and even tried to hint it to me. He had watched as my jeans fell down earlier and almost got a hard-on. The truth was that everytime Chris needed to masturbate, or he found himself in a situation with a girl, he only thought of me. How I felt sucking him off, what my ass looked like, how wet could I get for him? He always felt bad since we were friends, but now that I had kissed him he couldn't stop his dick from hardening.
I walk back out from the bathroom and see Chris laying with his hand covering his eyes. My only thoughts are that it is over now, he is sad that I kissed him and I've lost a friend. Clearly my drugged mind not handling anxiety well. Chris removes his hand away from his face, and look at me with a slight panic in his eyes. I walk closer to him and see his hand under his pants. I open my mouth in excitement but Chris takes it as a bad thing. "Sorry... fuck-" Chris sighs, and I interrupt him. I smile and straddle him.
"No problem touching yourself when I'm in the apartment?" I laugh. Chris unsure how to respond just nods. By looking at him I feel my panties starting to get wetter by the second. Seeing my expression, Chris smirks and places his hands on my hips. "This might ruin our friendship, but I just kept looking at you today and I wanted so bad to bend you over and fuck you until the upstairs neighbours hear you scream my name." Chris states calmly and my pussy tingles like crazy knowing I've wanted this too. I lean closer to him, putting my hands on his chest. "Let's see if we can make the neighbours across the street hear me scream your name" I whisper into his ear. This was enough to set him off. He grabs my waist pulling me in, holding my face an inch from his face. "You are the one I think of when I jack off" he whispers, and my pussy clenches at the thought of him thinking of me. I can't deny how wet that makes me so I grind a little. He holds me down, smirking. I'm impatient so I kiss him immediately, which he is quick to respond to. His tongue graze mine as his hands travel all over my body before ultimately ending up on my ass, gripping it hard. I gasp breaking away from the kiss, and he just brings me back in again. He tugs at my shirt wanting it removed and I follow his wish. "It's unfair if I'm going to be naked but you fully dressed" I whine. He chuckles at my whiny remark as he sits up, and pulls off his t-shirt. "It's just a t-shirt" he laughs. I smirk and stand up, slowly undressing myself. I'm basically becoming a stripper for Chris, and with the look in his eyes and the low moaning I'm feeling myself. Dancing to the seducing beat in the background smiling, touching myself all over my body. My fingers searching and finding my pussy, I slowly rub my clit with my eyes closed and moaning. Chris is in shock but quickly pulls his jeans and underwear off of him, panting and palming his dick. The weed are definitely making its impact on both me and Chris.
I knew I would like kissing Chris but I never knew how much, in fact I fucking love it. I lay on the couch as Chris is on top making the most out of this little make out session. The weed affecting our perception of time, it feels like hours since I slightly kissed Chris. Chris has his entire body weight on mine and I feel his dick rubbing unintentionally against my clit. He is kissing me so forcefully I think he is afraid this is our only moment together. I push him off and down on the couch, I sit down on my knees and pull his legs to face me. This is the first look I've gotten of his dick and I have to admit, I'm in a bit of shock. "Hope you don't choke on my 'small' dick?" Chris smirks. I laugh as I spit on his dick and let my hand spread it all over his large and throbbing dick. "Have you been waiting for this?" I ask slowly jerking him off. "You have no idea" he moans low, letting his head fall back and closing his eyes.
[My first oneshot, I did not have the energy to finish this, but will happily make part twoooo]
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is it time for another 150 words meme? guess it is!!
for those who haven't been around for one of these - pick a number from the list of wips below and I will write 150 words in that project. you can send me up to three if you really can't decide on one. if you don't recognize or are curious to know more about what these are, my wip list has a brief summary of I think all of them.
twelve options and it's basically vegaspete and yi city all the way down with two wild cards
1. This place was too open and there were too many people around, none of whom he knew. There could be more of whoever those people had been around; he didn’t want to divide his focus to see if either of the two he’d dropped had ID. Pete was on his own and Vegas was compromised. “We have to go,” Pete interrupted.
“You – what? What the fuck – are those guys dead?”
“Sorry,” Pete said, adjusting his grip on Vegas. Then, because he felt rude and a little bit bad and Vegas did seem to like these people, he added, “have a good night.”
And he half dragged, half carried Vegas out into open air.
Pete wavered between driving without somebody else as eyes or waiting for a car with a basically incapacitated Vegas and decided he wanted to get them out of an uncontrolled environment now. He disentangled himself from Vegas to put him in the passenger seat, which was more difficult than it sounded because Vegas didn’t want to let go and at one point bit his neck, which made it very hard for Pete to focus the way he needed to. (Drift)
2. Vegas wondered if he should try to pretend to know who he was talking about. Nobody liked hearing that the death that’d meant so much to them hadn’t made an impression.
“You don’t even remember him, do you,” said his captor.
“I have no idea who you are,” Vegas said. “So, no.”
He didn’t like that, and expressed as much with another kick in the ribs. Vegas gritted his teeth so he didn’t yelp even though his vision swam and his head spun, his still mending insides vehemently protesting. (All's Fair)
3. Xue Yang had a deep professional respect for Wei Wuxian’s work. He was, unquestionably, a master of their shared craft; Xue Yang had built a not insignificant part of his own work on the scraps of foundation he’d left behind. He was skilled, and smart, and based on his activities during the Sunshot Campaign had a nasty streak Xue Yang could appreciate.
On a personal level Xue Yang sort of wanted to gut him with a dull knife. (demonic cultivator team up fic)
4. “Why are you guys being so weird,” he said aggressively. Vegas shot him a look that Macau met without wavering. “What? It’s making you really uncomfortable to be around.”
“So go find somewhere else to be,” Vegas said. “Nosy.”
“I live here,” Macau said. He turned his gaze on Pete. “So?”
Vegas could see Pete hesitating. His eyes darted toward Vegas and then away.
“Don’t try to pry shit out of him just because you think he’ll crack before I do,” Vegas said.
“He will, though,” Macau said, eyes still fixed on Pete. “You’ll tell me what’s going on. Right, P’Pete?” It hovered somewhere awkwardly between a wheedle and a command. Vegas reached over and smacked the back of his head.
“Cut it out, you little pest,” he said in English.
“Did you have a fight or something?”
Vegas’s insides seized up a little but before he could respond Pete said, “no, it’s not like that. Everything’s fine.” He smiled and Vegas felt like there was something scraping against his skin. He clenched his molars together until his jaw hurt. Macau looked even more suspicious.
“Riiight,” he said. “Sure.” (post canon vegaspete long(er) fic)
5. “Are you sure you don’t want me to come with you?” Pete asked again, for the fifth or sixth time. Vegas gritted his teeth so he didn’t snap.
“Yes, I’m sure,” he said through them. “Stop asking.” Pete barely flinched before relaxing into an easy smile.
“Okay,” he said.
“You’ll have sightline from here,” Vegas said, by way of…not apology, but maybe it would help Pete feel a little better. “Don’t worry. I don’t think…” his voice wavered and he cleared his throat. “I won’t be long.”
Pete scanned him with watchful eyes that didn’t quite match his smile. “You can stay as long as you want,” he said. In his eyes Vegas read I don’t like this.
“I know I can,” he said sharply. “I wasn’t asking permission.” He turned before he could see Pete’s reaction and walked into the cemetery. (Fidelity)
6. “Can I tell you a secret,” a-Qing said, her voice now dull. Song Lan made an affirmative sound, though he tensed. A-Qing chewed her lower lip. “It’s bad,” she said.
“Mm-mm,” Song Lan said in denial. A-Qing turned a little in his direction, looking at him through her eyelashes.
“I think Daozhang is still in love with him,” she said despairingly. Song Lan’s heart sank, the hope that he’d been wrong dwindling to nothing. He said nothing, waiting, and a-Qing kicked her heels. “I thought he’d get over it, now that he knows how awful he always was but he still…it’s not fair. That bastard is dead and he’s still making everything worse.”
Song Lan’s chest ached.
“What are we going to do,” a-Qing said, her voice small and unusually young-sounding, so unlike her usual brash, confident self.
I wish I knew. I wish I knew what was right. No, Song Lan had to admit to himself that was no longer his first question. He wished he knew what would help. Right or wrong, if it brought Xiao Xingchen some peace… (Life After Death)
7. That was the trouble, wasn’t it? Xue Yang was right: Song Lan did want him to suffer. He wanted him to feel every miserable bit of pain he’d caused him and Xingchen and so many others; he wanted him beaten down and broken and begging forgiveness that he would never, never receive. The violence of the thoughts he’d had about what he could do to Xue Yang frightened him. The ease with which he’d already done some things – nothing against the torments Xue Yang had inflicted, but that was not a standard he wanted to live by – sickened him. But that didn’t mean he didn’t crave vengeance. He hadn’t spared Xue Yang’s life out of kindness.
“Yeah,” Xue Yang said, reading Song Lan’s silence correctly. “So there you go.”
Song Lan grimaced, closing his eyes and taking a moment to center himself before saying, “whatever – baser urges I might have, as I’ve said, that isn’t how I want to conduct myself. With anyone.”
Xue Yang looked away from him. “Seems to keep happening, though,” he said. “So much for daoshi discipline, huh?”
“You are remarkably good at trying my patience,” Song Lan said. Xue Yang’s eyes darted back in his direction and he laughed; this one sounded significantly less wild than some of his others.
“It’s not just you, Song-daozhang,” Xue Yang said, his voice suddenly bright and lilting. “I try plenty of other peoples’ patience too.”
“I can imagine,” Song Lan said, which drew another laugh from Xue Yang.
“It’s a gift,” Xue Yang said, with a sunny smile. (Walking Far From Home)
8. Xiao Xingchen had to laugh. “I would try to coax you back out,” he said. “I’m sure you’d be a very cute tarantula.”
Xue Yang laughed and grinned at him even more widely. “You would think tarantulas are cute,” he said. “Sure, okay. I’ll be your special tarantula and I’ll only bite other people, not you. I’m very venomous, though, so be careful.”
Xiao Xingchen tried to look solemn. “I trust my tarantula boyfriend,” he said, but he couldn’t hold a straight face, breaking into a giggle.
“Your first mistake,” Xue Yang said, the two of them laughing together. Then Xue Yang lit into tickling Xiao Xingchen, and Xiao Xingchen almost kicked him in the stomach by accident, and the shadows of his dream faded from his mind. (Redux)
9. So. He was back.
He was back and he was alive and something was wrong with him.
There were a lot of things wrong with him. Clearly. Or maybe had been wrong with him all along and now it was just…exposed, laid bare, yanked out in the open where he couldn’t ignore it.
Vegas had done a lot of things to him but Pete thought that might be the worst. (jiggety-jig)
10. “Why won’t it work, you mean?” Xue Yang said, and laughed. “I can’t tell you all my secrets, Zichen.”
Don’t call me that, Song Lan almost wrote, but he stopped himself. There was almost certainly no better way to ensure that Xue Yang called him nothing else. Instead he wrote, I would expect you to want to brag.
“Ha,” Xue Yang said. “What would be the point? It’s not like you’d be impressed. And you already know how good I am. Was.” His smile fell away a little, momentarily, and for a split second Song Lan saw him as he’d truly been when he died, hollowed out and exhausted, bloody and beaten even before Song Lan slid Fuxue between his ribs. “You are how good I was. My greatest creation. Even more than the Yin Tiger Seal. I just remade that, after all, but you were all mine.”
Song Lan couldn’t actually vomit but the nausea was still overpowering. (the poison in your bones)
11. Liu Mingyan was a problem.
If she had to be fair (though Sha Hualing was not generally interested in being fair), she was less annoying than her brother, but that was setting a remarkably high bar, and she was more annoying to Sha Hualing specifically. As far as Sha Hualing could tell, Mingyan-guniang had made it her business to interfere with Sha Hualing’s business at every possible opportunity. Sometimes it seemed like she couldn’t turn around in the Human Realm without running into her, even when Sha Hualing wasn’t doing anything wrong. Or hadn’t done anything yet, anyway.
Or at least hadn’t done anything Liu Mingyan could possibly know about.
It wasn’t like Sha Hualing couldn’t handle her. Obviously she could; she’d defeated her one-on-one, and later on held her captive. It still made sense to be cautious. A little wary. Human beings could be tricky sometimes, and Liu Mingyan in particular made Sha Hualing uneasy. Not that she would say as much to anyone. (under pressure)
12. “All of us,” Gabriel said, “must, in our lives, learn how to surrender to some greater power. Preference may not come into it.”
Lymond’s unnaturally bright eyes blinked once. “Not mine, at any rate,” he said. “I’m sure your preference is quite informative, in this case.”
“Your wound,” Gabriel said, removing his hands, “needs tending.”
“And you, with your healer’s hands,” Lymond said. “Ille more suo victus pietate, nec sordes cavit, nec fetorum exhorruit.”
“I make no claims to the miraculous,” Gabriel said. “But such things come first and foremost to the faithful.”
“Accept Christ,” Lymond said, “and my deformities shall disappear. Deny him, and I am cast out of the body public. Is that it?” (et ipsi sunt jacula)
#fic excerpt#150 words meme#i have an upcoming 5 hour flight so....time for this meme [fingerguns]#also just generally feeling scattered across a lot of projects and sometimes this helps me focus
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This is a snippet of a new story I’m working on starring Carmelo Hayes. Let me know what y’all think. I’m open to ALL feedback😌😁
Club LOTE; is the hottest Club/Lounge in Atlanta. And tonight, it was victim to the Promo King Of the South, Carmelo Hayes.
-----------------
Carmelo entered the building trailing behind the bottle girls with his crew, dapping up some of the guys in the club and hugging the females while they snapped their pictures of him. Carmelo is one of the hottest male promoters in the Southern Region. Promoting through major cities like Houston, Miami, Nashville, and of course, the ATL. As he walked in with his boys, all I could see was him. That man knew he was the epitome of sexiness. He knows how much pull he has here, yet he keeps it humble and gracious.
My girl Nia and I go to the bathroom to fix our look after fighting and fussing to get into this club. I’ve never been to LOTE, so the atmosphere was pretty new to me, and the same goes for Nia. We decided to come out and Celebrate my new job offer. I became the Executive Content Producer for Essence Magazine. Which was always a part of my Top Two choices, and it wasn’t number two.
“Girl, I know you saw Trick's fine ass walking in with Melo. You already know what he does to me; seeing him doesn’t help Shit.” Nia groaned slightly before eagerly checking her lip gloss and fixing her makeup.
“Nia, you know exactly who I was looking at, so Trick was nowhere near my sightline.”
“Shay, please! Kiss my ass.”
“With pleasure!” I kiss my hand and slightly tap her butt. “Lucky you!” gleaming slightly before grabbing my purse and exiting the bathroom.
They laugh before doing a final look at their outfits and makeup.
As I walked out of the restroom with Nia, ‘How Deep’ by Jeezy blasted on the speakers as I got closer to Carmelo’s section.
Carmelo and I made eye contact for a few seconds, but it felt like time had stopped. I managed to send him a slew of my “ I would Fuck the shit outta you ” looks before turning away; he smirked kindly and then turned away before sipping his drink.
Nia and I decide to get some drinks before we dance.
“What’ll it be, ladies?” The bartender asked, ready to receive our orders.
“A tequila sunrise for her and a lemon drop Martini for me.”
“Alright, coming right up.” The bartender turns and starts making our drinks. Not too long after, she places them in front of us.
“Will that be Card or cash?” The bartender asked.
Before I could answer, a deep voice jumped in.
“Make that card. And keep my tab open; I’ll be back later. And whatever other drinks these beautiful ladies want, add them to my tab as well. Got it?”
“Of course, Melo heard you loud and clear.”
The bartender grabs the card, puts it in the tab folder, and puts it next to the computer.
“Oh, um…Melo?! You didn’t need to- “
He politely cut me off and said, “Yes, I did! Enjoy it, baby girl. And whatever it is you’re celebrating, congratulations!” He grabbed my hand & kissed it before walking back to his section.
I turned to Nia and was shocked by what had just happened.
“Girl…am I trippin', or did he just give you that sexy ass gesture? Shay, you better go snatch him up! You know that has been your ULTIMATE dream with Carmelo. Girl…GO MAKE YOUR MOVE!”
“Are you sure? He seems a little…preoccupied now.” A couple of females surround him while touching his chest, feeling every inch of his muscles. He eventually played along when the cameras came out and started recording.
I waited some time until they were done recording. But then more and more females wanted to do the same thing: a video or picture with Melo. I’ll record any and everything for work but not myself. I feel I’m not meant to be on camera but behind the scenes.
Thirty-Minutes Later
I do one last check with Nia before walking to his section. I got there, and this big ass linebacker of a security guard kept blocking my way into the section.
“Sorry, ma'am, no groupies allowed.” the guard blew me off by waving his hand, saying next, and then letting an ACTUAL groupie in the section.
“My nigga, I thought you said “No Groupies!” WHAT THE FUCK WAS THAT?!”
“Uhm…HELLO?! Mr. Keep that tab open; a little help?”
I raised my arms in agitation, especially since the guard won’t let me in, but he let in all the Groupies. Not to mention I'm still drunk, trying to get into this section to talk to Melo. Ughh…Niggas irk my nerves.
“Yo Benni, she good man; let her up.”
He waved for me to come his way, and as I did, I ran into a few more females taking videos with him. So I had to think of something quick and painless to get his attention before my drunken buzz wore off.
“Aye man, y’all already know what it is and all it’s gone be. It’s yah boys, Trick & Melo, and we are out here at Club LOTE. We got the hottest DJ, the best drinks, and, most importantly, the finest ladies in the ATL. It’s still time to get in… so y’all slide on Down to The LOTE. It’s LIT!!”
Before the live ended, I gently grabbed Melo and passionately kissed him while the camera was still rolling. Suddenly, a slew of cameras popped out of nowhere, capturing our kiss. I release Carmelo from my hold before hurriedly grabbing Nia and making our way out of the club.
“Bitch…how much have you had to drink?” Nia shockingly said before we got into our Uber.
“Honestly,” *Releases drunken belch* Four Lemon Drops, three tequila shots and”
I drift off through my thoughts, displaying a face of worry.
“And what Bitch?” I take one last sigh before telling her I drove the boat with some Hennessy, which was the WORST decision I could’ve made while drinking.
“And…I drove the boat with a bottle of Henny.”
Nia looks at me in her ‘You done fucked up’ face; without saying a word.
“Keep your judgments to yourself, Hoe.” I beat her to the punch before she could say anything else slick.
“Well, I mean, the Henny did do its’ job. Shay, you made the first move and kissed Melo in front of EVERYBODY in LOTE and not to mention on LIVE. Those girls who were on LIVE were The Atlanta Shade Girls. They have over 500,000 subscribers on Instagram, and you will be the most talked about female in the city in the next 12 hours. So enjoy your last hours of freedom; this is the last bit of anonymity you will have in this city. After tonight, Melo did just like Twista & made you an Overnight Celebrity.”
What the Fuck did I just do?
-----------------
Let me know what y'all think 😌
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Fuck it Friday
Tagged by the wonderful @spotsandsocks
I wasn’t sure which little snippet of my Georgian time travel au to post today but I’ve gone with this one purely because I love my OC, he’s a bit of a rake and a villain but he does have a heart of gold and he keeps trying to persuade me to include more of him in my fic!
Buck did a couple of laps on his own, enjoying the warm sulphurous waters as the milky blues and greens bubbled gently before settling in an unoccupied corner of the bath which was mostly hidden from the sightline of the pump room windows so he could keep and eye on Daniel and people watch as well as escaping the judgemental gaze of his mother. It was mens half day - a half day when only men were permitted into the bath, it wasn’t very busy today with only 3 or 4 other men and their servants in the bath area. After about 10 minutes of people watching Buck was starting to feel restless and was thinking about doing some more laps when Viscount Teignmouth entered the space, he clocked Buck and sauntered his way over to the side of the pool where Buck was settled
‘Buckley’ he drawled ‘you are a a difficult man to pin down.’
Buck quirked an eyebrow, intrigued to see where this conversation was going to go and watched as Teignmouth lowered himself into to water alongside him.
‘I wasn’t aware you were trying to pin me down my Lord’ he responded with a nod of his head in deference to Teignmouths title.
‘I’ve seen you looking Buckley, you’ve been wanting me to pin you down the entire time I’ve been in Bath, look at you, you’re practically gagging for it’ Teignmouth said in a low voice, sinking lower in the milky waters of the kings bath, obscuring his brown linen clad body from view.
Buck felt a brush of a hand along his side as Teignmouth manouvered himself so he was facing Buck, drawing him into his unwavering stare as their nosegay dishes bobbed on the water between them. Keeping his voice low he continued his side of the conversation without waiting or needing a response.
‘I’m going to tell you what is going to happen from now on and you are going to follow my instructions to the letter. I’m a man who is used to getting his way and you won’t like the consequences if you fail to adhere to my instructions.’
Buck felt a brush of a hand again, this time across his lower abdomen before the same hand grabbed his dick through the linen of his trousers. Buck let out a gasp and tried to pull away but Teignmouth tightened his grip and Bucks cock went from soft to semi hard.
‘Don’t make another noise’ Teignmouth growled and Buck nodded and swallowed a whimper as Teignmouth maintained a tight and rough grip as he massaged Buck to full hardness.
‘I know you’re gagging to have me. I know you’re desperate to fill the empty pathetic void that is your life with a bit of excitement and I know you want your tight asshole to be filled and used just so you can feel something. So you can feel anything.’ Buck swallowed another whimper and nodded again as Teignmouths hand continued its brutal ministrations.
Let me know your thoughts - I’m up to my eyeballs in this fic - it is consuming me 😂
Tagging anyone who has something they’d like to share, don’t be shy I love seeing what people are getting up too!
#fuck it friday#kym attempts to write a fic#it is a buddie fic I promise Buck just has to escape the past first!!!#Lord Teignmouth is my beloved rakish rogue!!#my writing#911 on fox#911 abc#evan buckley#buck#buddie#911 fanfic#911 fic
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Was working on a different Assassin’s Creed fic wherein Clay was sharing a body with Desmond when this idea came to mind. I was gonna hold off on writing it, but I figured it’d be good practice for writing porn (and also it was very insistent), so I went ahead with it.
It’s in its first draft stage, so there may be some spelling/grammatical errors, etc. I don’t think there’s any relevant content warnings (the snippet below is not the porny bit), but I’m not 100% sure, so proceed at your own risk.
Desmond rolls his eyes.
His mistake is this: He’s never realized just how much the human eye actually sees versus how much of that input gets processed for the brain, or whatever the correct terminology for the process is. Even after learning the difference, it’s not something that stays on the forefront of his mind, so he doesn’t think much of stepping out of the bathroom with the towel tied around his waist.
He doesn’t think much of the mirror in his sightline as he turns and walks out.
>>oh
>>ohhhhh
Desmond makes a questioning noise as he pads over to where the hotel staff had thoughtfully left out the clothes Clay bought for him on the dresser. Clay had had them shipped to the hotel and arranged for them to be brought up to his room before check-in. He’s embarrassingly excited about it, wearing clean clothes, clothes he chose out. It feels like it’s been an eternity since he last was able to pick out whatever he wanted to wear.
He wasn’t even restrained by price this time.
>>You, uh
Desmond pauses, hands on his new clothes—soft, they’re so soft—when Clay ends his sentence there. Clay doesn’t often bother with proper grammar and capitalization outside of specific situations, and he doesn’t usually cut himself off. Whatever’s on his mind must be serious.
>>You wanna take care of that? I can desync from your senses.
It takes him a few seconds to realize what Clay’s talking about. When he does, his face combusts spontaneously.
“I’m not—I don’t—!” He hisses out a breath and closes his eyes. Calm. Calm. No panicking and absolutely no talking while panicked or startled or whatever the fuck. He’ll end up saying something stupid or too revealing or both, something he can’t take back.
Rewind. Retry:
“It’s fine,” he says, opening his eyes and keeping them firmly on the new clothes. He doesn’t look down as he puts them on, staring at the safe top of the dresser.
>>right youre “fine”
Oh, so he could air-quote at him, but he doesn’t want to bother with a single apostrophe?
“Now’s that the time for that,” Desmond tries, tackling it at a different angle. “I don’t want to be caught with my pants literally down, and we have a lot to do. I need to sleep.”
>>i mean i feel like orgasms are conducive to sleep but maybe thats just me
If he could close his eyes to the words, to the “orgasms” that seems to glare at him in bolded neon, he would, but he can’t. Even with his eyes closed, the words’ll be there for him to read, always in his vision and the color even helpfully changed so he can read them against the dark.
“You can’t seriously be interested in watching me jack off,” he snaps before he can think better of it.
The bottom line is, the core of this issue that he doesn’t want to look at, much less poke at, is that he doesn’t want to have this conversation. He wants to ignore his hard-on and not think about touching himself. He doesn’t want to think about his body betraying him like this, so fucking easily, doing things without his say-so, reacting without his say-so, and just—
>>i mean
He stares at the words.
“You’re serious.”
#WIP#Built-In Dom Verse#Assassin’s Creed#Desmond Miles#Clay Kaczmarek#I am once again trying to post more#Just gonna queue this and then stick my head in the sand so I don’t second-guess myself and delete it
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Fic preview
Sneak peek of my WIP OFMD/Bly Manor AU
August 1988 – Revenge, Vermont, USA
He waited until Buttons was out the door and out of their sightline before rounding the counter, deciding that he’d spent far too much time away from him than was entirely acceptable.
She'll take a tumble on you, roll you like you were dice until you come out blue…
Ed snuck an arm around Stede’s waist, hand slipping just under the hemline of Stede’s shirt, fingers taking root around the soft skin. Nuzzling his face into the crook of Stede’s neck, he took in the ever-familiar scent of orange and vanilla before ghosting a kiss to the underside of Stede’s jaw.
Stede gave him a sweet little noise in return, the sound traveling straight to space between Ed’s ribs where he kept all of his favorite things tucked away safe. The blonde turned to meet him, pressing their foreheads together as their noses brushed. “Hi you,” he sighed, as if welcoming Ed home.
And he was, as far as Ed was concerned. Stede was his home, had been for six months, frankly. And everyday that went by without Ed telling him that was the greatest injustice of all, to the most important person he’d ever known. He’d tried waiting as long as he could, afraid that if he moved too quickly he’d scare Stede away, cause all of this to crumble beneath them.
But God, Stede made loving him easy.
And as Ed basked in the warmth of Stede’s glow, he knew that he was more sure about this than he’d ever been about anything else before. He was also more sure that he’d combust on the spot if he didn’t tell Stede right fucking now.
He cleared his throat. “We’ve got a problem, Poppins,” he started, voice low with all the seriousness he could muster in the moment, hoping that Stede couldn’t feel the way his heart was doing it’s fucking best to escape his chest right now.
Stede started to pull away, shifting to try and look at Ed better. “Oh no,” he sighed, doing his best to keep his voice level behind the growing concern in his eyes.
Ed held him firm, not letting him separate them fully. “The problem,” he continued, pulling Stede back into his orbit, “is that I’m not sick of you yet. At all.” Stede stared at him a moment, brow furrowed as he processed the words coming from Ed. Ed lifted his thumb to trace over his browline, coaxing them relaxed again before tracing down Stede’s jaw, pulling him closer until
“And I’ve been doing a lot of thinking, lately – ”
“Well that’s never good,” Stede murmured, the concern in his eyes replaced with something else now.
She's precocious, and she knows just what it takes to make a pro blush…
Ed pinched him underneath his shirt, not enough to hurt but enough to elicit a whine from the other man. “And what I’ve decided,” he scolded, no real bite behind his words, “is that I’m kind of obsessed with you, actually. Don’t think I’m going to be able to get rid of you anytime soon, mate.”
“Is that so?” Stede was grinning now, those stupidly perfect eyes gazing softly at Ed like he’d hung the moon and all the fucking stars and good God Ed would drown in them forever if Stede let him.
He hummed in the affirmative, nosing against Stede’s cheek. “I’m actually pretty in love with you, it turns out.” Stede’s breath hitched at the word, chest rising and falling like swells against a ship.
Ed lifted his face to look back at Stede, those glimmering calico eyes boring into his like they were trying to memorize every speck of stardust. “These past few months have been the most fun I’ve had in a long time, maybe ever. And, I think, if you’ll have me, I’d like to try to figure out how to be us, for as long as we can.”
#ofmd fic#ofmd fanfic#ofmd au#ofmd#blackbeard ofmd#edward teach#ofmd edward teach#stede bonnet#fanfiction#fanfic#fics#blackbonnet#gentlebeard
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