#also reminder that I’m baaack

[alpacaparkaseok]

Hope you all enjoyed/enjoy the first chapter of HTSM! 💕

#tumblr polls #heyooo #love that we have polls on here now #also reminder that I’m baaack #and here to clog up your dash lol

[quiet-onset]

me and mr. jones

pairing: steve rogers x reader

wc: 9.6k+, sorry

summary: you're with bucky, so why does steve want you so badly?

warnings: smut with a plot, so minors DNI!! unprotected sex, oral (f receiving), cheating/infidelity, and slight exhibitionism so pls don't read if that's triggering, steve is a bit of an ass but he has a beard so it cancels out

a/n: tell a friend to tell a friend... she's baaack. but fr, i'm making my comeback. thanks to @brattylyricist for being my beta reader and putting up with how feral i get for thee steve rogers

You hated Steve.

He was pompous, self-righteous, and stubborn. He always had to get the last word in an argument and hated to admit he was wrong. He was certainly and undoubtedly the man you loathed most on this Earth.

But he was also your boyfriend’s best friend. So, when Steve temporarily moved in with you and Bucky after moving back to New York, you made do because you were utterly smitten with James Buchanan Barnes. They’d been best friends for nearly a century — who were you to say no?

Not much changed. Except for the constant arguing between you and Steve, most of them for insanely petty things. Take this morning, for instance. You stood in front of the stove on a late Monday morning making a hearty breakfast for you and your boyfriend. Notice how Steve was not part of the equation.

The boys arrived home from their long run just as you had finished setting his plate on the dining room table. Bucky smiled at you as you poured a glass of juice, pulling out a chair as he kissed you noisily on the cheek. “What is all this?”

“I made brunch. Tony said he’s not especially busy — said I could take the morning.” From your right, you heard a quiet scoff from Steve. “Something to say, Steven?”

“Not at all.” Steve said, biting his tongue. He retrieved a bottle of water from the kitchen, ignoring how you glared at him from behind the partition.

“Well,” Bucky interrupted, “That was very thoughtful of you, baby. Thank you.”

“Of course. I hope you like it!”

“You’re not joining?”

“Still cooking. Oh, that reminds me!” You hurried back to the kitchen, suddenly remembering the pancake still sitting in the pan of the hot stove. You call back to him as you flip it over. “Besides, I’ve been snacking the whole time, so I’m kinda full.”

Steve walked by you and rested against the countertop. He eyed the nearby plate of bacon and went to pick up a slice, but you smacked his hand away. Steve let out an indignant sound as he snatched his hand back, “What was that for?”

“Did you make any of these pancakes?” You asked sarcastically.

“What’s your point?”

You could both hear as Bucky muttered a quiet here we go around a bite of his food, but you ignored it.

“My point is that unless your name suddenly changes to James, none of this is for you.” You replied. “I suggest looking in the pantry for cereal.”

“Seriously? You cooked an entire continental breakfast just to be immature?”

“Oh, I learned it from the best.” You threw a fake smile in his direction, batting your eyelashes. 

Steve scoffed, blood boiling in his veins. He didn’t know when you learned which buttons of his to press to upset him, but you did a hell of a job. Worse, he knew he was giving you the exact reaction you wanted. You wanted to see him angry, to make him upset. It amused you to see the oh-so-great Captain America get pissed off because of your pettiness.

One, two, three, Steve counted in his head, taking deep breaths. He was not going to let you win today. He walked to the pantry and pulled out a bagel instead, making sure to bump your shoulder as he padded over to the toaster. It barely broke his stride, but it nudged you forward, your hip hitting the corner of the counter. Then, he walked back to the fridge and bumped you again, this time almost throwing you off your balance. “Steve, you little—“

“Can you two go thirty seconds without fighting please?”

Bucky’s question hung in the air as you and Steve glared at each other. The look in your eye was intense, angry even. You hated how easily Steve got to you sometimes. His mere presence got you heated, and you dreamt of the day he’d move out. You loathed how smug he looked, almost as if he were taunting you, urging you to keep going. To give him a reason.

Pop!

You flinched when Steve’s bagel popped out of the toaster, grumbling to yourself as you turned on your heel toward the exit of the kitchen. “I’m gonna get ready for work.”

Once Steve was satisfied with his breakfast of a bagel and fruit, he joined Bucky at the table. His best friend shot him an exasperated look, and Steve’s brow went up defensively. “What?”

“Do you have to torment her?”

“She started it! She went out of her way to mess with me.”

“I swear, it’s been a year and a half, and you two still act like children.” Bucky shook his head.

“She is the problem, not me. Just ‘cause you let her boss you around doesn’t mean I will.” Steve knew the comment was a bit harsh, but he couldn’t help it, a scowl etched into his features. “Don’t know how you deal with her.”

Bucky only chuckled as he bit into a slice of bacon. “It’s because I love her, man. She’s the first person, besides you, to see me for me.”

Steve could tell that his best friend’s feelings for you were real. The look in Bucky’s eyes, Steve had only seen once before — and that was back in the forties. His face lit up when you entered a room, and he grinned every time you pecked his cheek. He could never say no to you, never even wanted to. Steve couldn’t understand how Bucky fell in love with such an insufferable brat, but it didn’t matter. You made him happy, so Steve learned to make do.

“Besides,” Bucky continued mischievously, “you have no idea how bossy she can really be.”

Steve’s brow furrowed at the statement. The longer he looked at the smirk on Bucky’s face, the quicker the realization came. Oh, that kind of bossy, Steve thought. He shifted in his seat, feeling hot all of a sudden. Sure, he and Bucky sometimes discussed their intimate lives in the past, but never while in a relationship, and never about you. He lets out something akin to scoff, doing his best to seem unimpressed, uninterested. “Does she at least make it worth being bossed around?”

Bucky leaned forward and lowered his voice, “You have no idea. Nine rounds, back-to-back, in one night. Nine. She’s the only woman I’ve met that can handle the serum’s effect on the libido.”

“Wow, happy ending every night — good for you.” Steve’s response came out with a playfully sarcastic sneer, but inside, he started to feel cramped, heated. Like he needed to crawl out of his own skin to rid himself of the fever. He settled for digging his fingernails into the meat of his thigh, an action that goes completely unnoticed by Bucky. 

Suddenly, Steve’s breakfast was infinitely more interesting than that conversation.

“Well not every night. Got let her rest sometime, y’know?” The brunette replied with a smirk, blissfully unaware of Steve’s need to douse himself in cold water. With that, Bucky stood from the table, taking a few strips of bacon from his plate and dropping them onto Steve’s, right next to his untouched blueberries. “Don’t let her see.” 

As Bucky left to prepare for work, Steve sat at the table. Blunt nails left crescents in his thighs as a shuddering breath passed through his lips. He stared at the bacon — food you’d made just to piss him off.

When you came back into the room, a lilac dress adorning your body, he looked up. The fabric clung to your curves and flowed out at your hips, highlighting the expense of your legs. If you noticed his gaze linger on your thighs, you didn’t mention it. You only glared at him when you saw the bacon on his plate. “That wasn’t for you.”

He picked up a slice, took a bite, and smirked, “I know.”

—

The auto shop was the only place Steve could escape from you.

After he retired as Captain America, he became a mechanic. He knew a decent amount about cars and learned the rest on his downtime. It gave him purpose, work that he could do with his hands. Creating, fixing, helping, that’s what Steve was good at. So the auto shop became like a second home. It was nice and easy, uncomplicated, which was exactly what he needed.

It seemed, though, that complicated always found Steve.

Ever since Bucky had uttered those words to him, the tiniest description of his sex life, Steve’s mind began to wander. You had always been attractive to Steve — he wasn’t blind. But the constant arguments you and he had put him off from having any lewd thoughts about you. But now, with this key piece of information, his mind was racing with the possibility of you.

He found himself wondering how your body would react to the lightest touch, what noises you’d let out. Steve bet they were sweet, a satisfied hum resonating through your heaving chest. But, of course, they’d get higher-pitched, breathier as you got closer to the edge.

Desperate. The word was probably not even in your vocabulary — at least not with Bucky.

You had him whipped. The man gave you anything you wanted without question. For the briefest moment, Steve thought the unthinkable: I could make her desperate.

That was when Steve knew he had to find something to do. Something with his hands, his brain, a problem to solve. That way, he’d be too busy thinking of potential solutions than worrying about his own moral dilemma. So he slid underneath an old, broke down pick-up truck and got to work. 

He finally managed to propel you from his thoughts, replacing each dirty vision of you with thoughts of what parts he needed to order. That, until his phone rings.

He slid from under the truck and wiped his hands on a nearby rag before grabbing his phone. And, of course, it’s you. The woman he loathed, the woman he was fantasizing about, calling his phone just as he managed to get a grip on reality.

He answered in a huff, “What?”

“Before I say what I need to say, just know that I didn’t want to call you.”

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. That fucking attitude. “Then why call?”

“Look, you’re my least favorite option, Rogers.” She added, matching his energy. “I called Tony, but he told me to call Bucky. I called Bucky. He’s wrapped up in a super secret SHIELD meeting that he can’t get out of, and he told me to call… you.”

“Bucky said to call me?” Steve pinched the bridge of his nose, knowing that he was about to do whatever she needed him to. For his best friend, of course. What other reason would he have?

“His exact words were ‘Well, if you don’t call Steve, I’d have to get you an Uber and you’d have to leave your car’ so—“

“What’s wrong with your car?”

“It broke down. Won’t start again.”

“Fine.” Steve was reluctant as he gathered his tools and a few spare parts just in case. “You in walking distance?”

“No, I’ll send my location, just hurry up.”

She hung up before he could reply, and he let out an inward groan. Before he could get too angry, he took a deep breath. This was not for you. This was a favor for his best friend. That’s what he told himself when he got into his car and followed the GPS to your location.

Steve pulled up in front of her car about twenty minutes later. He frowned when he noticed another car parked behind yours, and a man speaking to you, from his rearview mirror. As he exited the car and grabbed his tools, he could hear the backend of your conversation.

“C’mon sweetheart! You don’t want my help?” The guy asked with a condescending smirk. “I could fix you up real good, promise.”

“I’m waiting for someone already, thanks.” You told him with a tight-lipped smile, arms crossed over your chest.

“She’s waiting on me.” Steve called out. He slammed his door closed, striding over to you. As much as he absolutely loathed you, he didn’t want to see any harm come to you. He was Captain America after all. Chivalry was practically in his blood. He didn’t see how your eyes widened as he stood beside you, giving the man a hard glare. “You can go now, buddy.”

“Hey, I was just offering my services.” The guy defended.

“She doesn’t need them.”

“What? Is he your boyfriend?”

“Yeah, I am her boyfriend.” Steve’s mouth moved faster than his brain could think. He missed your stunned look, your subtle blink of surprise when he stepped in front of you, shielding you from the stranger’s eyes. Steve stared down at him, daring him to say something, anything else. His final warning is low and menacing. “Leave.”

“Fine, man.” The man stepped back, trying to seem nonchalant, like he wasn’t scared out of his mind. “Whatever.”

Steve waited till he drove away to move, his feet crunching over gravel as he turned on his heel. “Thanks for the help.” He said dryly.

It takes you little time to regain your senses, frowning at his smart remark. “Oh, so it’s my fault I was accosted by some creep.” You replied sarcastically. He ignored your comment, instead walking by you toward the hood of your car. You rolled your eyes and mumbled under your breath, “God, you’re such a prick.”

“Hey,” Steve’s tone was sharp as he popped the hood. “That guy would still be hitting on you if it weren’t for me. You’d think a thank you would be in order.”

“You would, wouldn’t you?”

“Unbelievable.” He grumbled. “Look, just tell me what’s wrong with your car or stop talking please.”

“How am I supposed to know? You’re the mechanic.” You snapped at him.

Steve could feel himself getting worked up in more ways than one as he looked up at you from where he bent over your car. His glare was vicious as he thought about letting loose on you right there, on the side of the road. Maybe in the car, against it, or — if he was feeling especially cruel — on the rough, gravelly ground. But he counted in his head, one, two, three, four, five, until his heart rate calmed.

He returned his attention to the car, leaving you to watch him in silence. You thought about his words, his voice echoing in your head. Yeah, I am her boyfriend. What possessed him to say such a thing? You tried to convince yourself that he was just trying to help you, to intimidate that creep into leaving you alone.

If that’s all Steve was doing, it didn’t explain why his faux declaration made your heart skip a beat.

You pushed such traitorous thoughts to the back of your head, watching as Steve messed with this and that under the hood of your car. “Do you even know what you’re looking for?”

“It’s broken, I’m fixing it.” He replied pointedly, not sparing you so much as a glance.

“Fine, fix it then.” You huffed.

You leaned against the car, crossing one ankle over the other as you watched him work. It was then that you started to notice the small things about Steve. The small birthmark on his collarbone. The stretchmarks on his bicep. The smooth, fluid motion of his muscles as he twisted and turned different things. It made heat blossom at the base of your neck, so you turned your attention to the gravel. After about twenty minutes, you leaned under the hood with him, watching as he used a wrench to twist something tighter. “Do you actually know what you’re doing, or should I call a real mechanic?”

“No, I’m just smacking things around for fun.” He responded sarcastically. “I’m done now, try the ignition.”

You practically ran back to the driver's seat, raising the key until you heard the ignition turn over with a purr. Just a second after, cool air blasted from the vents, and you sighed happily, sliding down in your seat. “Oh, thank god.”

Steve tried not to watch through the windshield as the AC blew a bead of sweat between the valley of your breasts. He shut the hood of your car and wiped his hands clean with his rag. “Thank you, Steve. I appreciate your help.” He said dryly, leaning down on your car door with the window rolled down. “You’re welcome, Y/N.”

“Yeah, yeah, thanks or whatever. You can go.” You waved your hand dismissively. “I gotta finish running this errand for Tony.”

Steve watched your car pull off with a screech of the tires, knowing that things are getting infinitely more complicated.

—

It’s worth repeating, Steve hated you. So why was he imagining what you looked like beneath that little lilac dress?

He could practically see it in his mind. Beautiful legs that would wrap tightly around his waist. Arms that could so gracefully wind around his neck. Hands that he was certain were soft, especially pressed into his more calloused ones, rough from years of combat and physical labor. He could picture your silhouette like it was burned into his retinas, the shape of the woman he couldn’t stand.

And why did he say he was your boyfriend? It replayed in slow motion, the words falling from his lips as he stood protectively in front of you. Steve told himself that he was just trying to get that creep to leave you alone. As much as he disliked you, he didn’t want some random guy taking advantage of you on the side of the road.

But deep down, he knew that wasn’t why. Something inside him, in the pit of his belly, wanted you. Romantically, he wasn’t sure — but intimately? Sexually? There was no question, he wanted you. He wanted to touch you. To grab your ass by the handful and leave little marks on your neck until he dragged what he was sure were beautiful noises from your lips. He wanted to bury his fingers, his tongue, and fuck his cock inside you until there was nothing left of the both of them. To fuck you deep and raw and primal until you begged him to stop.

But beneath the very real desire for your body was guilt. Loyalty to his best friend. The same blood that boiled with lust burned with shame. How could he think such filthy things about his best friend’s girlfriend? Steve and Bucky had been through hell together and always dragged each other out. Bucky would take a bullet for him, and vice versa — almost had on a few occasions. What kind of person did that make Steve?

An asshole, obviously, Steve thought.

And so he ignored it. For the next three months, he ignored your petty attempts at arguments and all your smartass remarks as best he could. Every morning when you left for work, he made sure to look elsewhere, not wanting to be tempted by how well your clothes hugged your body. He even had a one night stand, an extremely unusual event for Steve.

And even so, it was uneventful. He met a woman down at the auto shop. She was attractive, they flirted and exchanged numbers, and she invited him over. What they wanted was clear, and they wasted no time. He fucked her hard and fast, toying with her clit to make sure she came, before coming himself, filling up the condom she gave him. Then, he left, and they hadn’t spoken since.

And even still, those thoughts wouldn’t leave his head. For those three long months, Steve was tormented by fantasies of you, and he didn’t know how much longer he could take it.

He laid in bed, dreaming about it. He fantasized about eating your pussy in his sleep. He’d take his time with you, kissing and nipping at your thighs until you begged him, all high-pitched and whiny. Then, he’d take a long, slow lick, entrance to clit, before diving in. He’d draw the ordeal out, pulling away just before you come to suck on your outer lips, just enough stimulation to keep you writhing beneath him. And finally, when you begged prettily enough, he’d let you—

Steve shot up in his bed, panting. His sweat soaked his sheet. What’s worse, his dick was as stiff as a rock, precum staining his gray sweatpants.

He dragged a hand over his face, letting out a quiet, exasperated groan. What am I, sixteen again?, he thought to himself, Having fucking wet dreams?

Steve swung his legs over the side of the bed, deciding that a glass of cold water might help him cool down. He left his bedroom and headed toward the kitchen. Then, he paused, hearing a strange noise. His brow furrowed as he turned on his heel, walking back down the hall slowly until he heard the noise again. And unfortunately, it led back to the one place Steve was dreading.

Yours and Bucky’s bedroom.

Just like Bucky had confided in him, Steve heard you giving orders. 

Go faster, baby. 

Uh-uh slow down, not yet. 

Behave yourself.

If you’re good, I’ll let you come inside me.

Steve couldn’t take it anymore. Every nerve was standing on end as he practically ran to the kitchen, making as little noise as possible. He downed two glasses of cold water, finally feeling himself cool off by the third. He sat on a stool at the kitchen island, waiting for what felt like forever for the noises to stop. Not that he could hear anymore. His heart was pounding in his ears as he tried to forget how you sounded in the heat of the moment. He rested his head on the cool marble and tried to take deep breaths.

But the noises did stop. And you left the room to retrieve water for you and Bucky. But you’re met with Steve, at the island, sitting in the dark. 

“Steve?” Your voice was quiet as it cut through the silence. His head shot up, and you saw his chest heaving. You frowned at him, wondering if he was in pain. “Why are you out here? It’s late.”

“I uh… I couldn’t sleep.”

Your lips parted in surprise, taking in a sharp breath as you hoped that Steve didn’t hear yours and Bucky’s late night activities. Thankfully, Steve couldn’t see you blush in the dark. Without another word, you walked across the room and opened up the fridge. The warm light of the fridge shone on you, and he managed to catch a glimpse of your silhouette. His eyes quickly trailed over your body, which was covered by Bucky’s white t-shirt. Your legs, though, were bare — soft and inviting.

He looked away before you closed the fridge and turned around.

He heard your footsteps pad away, then stop. When he lifted his head again, you were walking over to his side of the island. You didn’t stand too close, just an arm’s length away. Your voice was missing your usual bite when you spoke.

“A couple months ago, when my car broke down and that guy was bothering me… Why did you say you were my boyfriend?”

Steve almost froze at the question. What was he to say? He took the briefest moment to think, to find some statement that, at the very least, seemed neutral. “Just wanted to get that creep to leave you alone. I’m not a monster.” Steve said. He followed it with a shrug, trying to seem nonchalant about the ordeal. “Besides, it’s not like we like each other anyway. Why make a big deal out of it?”

You nodded. “Just curious.”

Just then, the same thought crossed both your minds: Maybe it is a big deal.

Steve’s brain short-circuited with that thought, and suddenly, his hand was moving. Before he could think, his thick fingers reached toward you and touched the skin of your bare leg. Guilt settled in the back of his mind as his hand curled around your upper thigh, lightly gripping the flesh there. When your lips parted to suck in a sharp breath, he pulled you closer still.

The air changed. It was thicker, heavy with the weight of the forbidden desire. No matter how deep the breath you took was, it would never be enough to satiate the tension of that moment.

He tugged lightly, slowly, to make sure you had the option of pulling away. That way, he’d know if his feelings, his desire, were just in his head. But you never did. You willingly shifted your weight as he pulled you closer, moving to stand between his legs. His hand reached up just a few inches to catch the edge of the shirt you wore — of Bucky’s shirt. He twisted his index finger around it to pull it taut, releasing it just as quickly. 

“Baby!”

Bucky’s voice called from your bedroom. You practically jumped away from Steve, like you’d been caught. Without another word, you swiped the two long-forgotten water bottles and hurried back to your room.

—

You’d never had a harder time sleeping than last night. Especially not after sex. But you tossed and turned all night, thinking about him. The man you loathed most on this Earth. The man you let touch your bare skin, even if for just a moment, while your boyfriend waited for you in your shared bed.

Thank God Bucky slept like a rock now.

The next morning, when you arrived in the kitchen, Steve was already sitting at the island with a bowl of cereal. You stopped in the doorway when his eyes fell on you. It was like someone had pressed pause on your lives, his hand even stilling with a spoonful of cereal, milk dripping from the convex side. There was nothing either of you could say to make what happened the night before okay. Nor could anything make you forget. So, you both just stared, waiting to see who would speak first.

Then, Bucky approached from behind you, pressing a quick kiss to your shoulder. He started to greet you both, but stopped for a moment, looking back and forth from you to Steve. “You two are not having a staring contest right now.”

You watched as Steve blinked a bit and shook his head, returning back to his breakfast. You let out a breath, forcing out a little laugh. “Well, not anymore. Steve blinked.”

Bucky chuckled and shook his head before brushing past you. “Just when I thought you two had turned a corner.”

You have no idea, you thought to yourself. The thought made your stomach turn uncomfortably. The weight in the air was nonexistent to Bucky, and that makes everything so much worse. Not even in his nightmares would his best friend and the love of his life betray him in that way. But even with Bucky in the room, all you could think about was how the callouses in Steve’s hand felt against your bare skin. The moment was short and fleeting, but it felt like a lifetime.

The hour that breakfast took was uneventful, save for a few passing glances between you and Steve. Bucky led the conversation, as usual, asking about everyone’s plans for the day. Steve planned to work on the old Mustang in the garage. Bucky, on the other hand, had to go into work to finish some paperwork. You had the day off and planned to just relax — which now meant avoiding Steve.

“I’m going to go on a run first though.” Bucky noted, his stool scraping against the floor as he stood up. “Anyone want to join?”

Steve was quick to agree, “I could go for a run.”

“On a thirteen mile run? No thanks.” You quickly answered with a playful scoff. You tried to tell yourself that the frown pulling at the corners of your lips was because you’d miss Bucky — not because Steve would rather go on an excruciatingly long run than be around you. Definitely because you’d miss Bucky.

“I’m going to head to work right after the run, so it’s just you and Steve for a couple hours.” Bucky told you. He pecked you on the lips three times, waiting for your frown to return to a smile. When it did, he kissed you a bit longer, nipping on your bottom lip. “You two play nice.”

Steve cherished every mile of that run with Bucky. He counted the minutes, glancing at his watch every so often. Even when their run was winding down, and they approached the house, Steve offered to go longer. “Another mile or two?” He’d asked Bucky.

“Can’t, gotta head in.” Bucky panted. He noticed the look on Steve’s face but chalked it up to disdain for you. “It won’t be that bad, Steve. It’s a few hours.”

“Yeah.” Steve nodded, wiping the sweat from his brow. “Yeah, I guess you’re right.”

And then Bucky hopped in the car and headed to work. Meanwhile, you curled up with a book and a mug of tea and sat in the living room, hoping that Steve would just use the back entrance. Of course, you were not so lucky.

Steve entered the house, still in his white t-shirt and joggers. He was planning on changing into some older clothes so he could work on the car, but when he saw you, he stopped. He looked at how you sat on the couch, knees drawn up and resting to the side. By the looks of it, you were halfway through your book, but he still managed to tear your attention from the action on those pages.

“Hey.” It was all he could manage, a single word to fill the empty, potent air.

“Hey.” No snark in her response, he thought. Noted.

“What, um, what are you reading?”

“Can’t you see the cover?” You shifted in your seat, free hand resting on your thigh. You fell back on your defenses, sarcasm and pettiness, to maintain your control. “Or maybe you can’t read, is that it?”

There she is, the fucking brat. Steve rolled his eyes. “Yes, that’s obviously the issue here.” His legs carried him to the other side of the couch. Just resting his legs, he convinced himself. A quick rest before going on with his day.

His eyes trailed over the cover of your book, seeing the cartoon image of a man and woman holding hands, along with big pink bubble letters that spelled out the title, Me and Mr. Jones — obviously some sort of romance novel. Then, Steve got sidetracked. He watched your hand that rested on your bare thigh, your thumb stroking the skin there absentmindedly, when he realized.

That’s the same spot he touched you last night. It’s where he grazed your skin, where he wrapped his hand around to pull you closer. You were stroking that spot so delicately, and you didn’t even notice.

It drove Steve wild. He needed to think about something else quickly.

“What’s it about?” He asked.

Your eyes widened. You curled in on yourself, turning your body to face Steve but pulling the book toward your chest. “Nothing, mind your business.”

Finally, something else for Steve to focus on. It was rare that he had the upper hand, that he could embarrass you. An eyebrow perked up as he smirked at you from across the couch. “What was that?”

“What was what?”

“That.” He waved his hand around at you with a chuckle. “That reaction. Whatever you’re reading, it can’t be that bad.”

“You wouldn’t like it.” The words came out quick and defensive as your eyes returned to the page. Then, Steve did the unimaginable. He leaned across the couch and snatched the book from your hands, laughing as you immediately started trying to retrieve it. “Give it back, you asshole!”

“C’mon, Y/N.” He teased. He held you back easily, keeping the book far above your head. “I just want to see if I’ll like it. Let me read it!”

He laughed as your protests became less and less aggressive, finally devolving into pleas. It was too late though. Steve started to read. Aloud. 

“She…,” He paused at the passage, his vocal cords pulled tight as he read. “She kissed him softly on his neck, nibbling on his Adam’s apple.” His gaze returned to you, noting how you avoided his eyes. “Do you usually read things like this, Y/N?”

Your voice was soft when you answered, taking on a much smaller tone than he’d ever heard from you. “Just give it back, alright?”

His eyes trailed over you, at how you rested on your knees beside him on the couch. You couldn’t bear to meet his eyes, embarrassment clear as day in the faint tint of your skin. It was a new emotion he’d never seen in you. You always had the upper hand, always made the situation turn out in your favor, always got what you wanted. Now, watching you reach over to grab the book, he smacked your hand away again. He was going to make the most of this moment. He wanted to show you what it felt like for someone else to control the situation.

So he kept reading.

“Nathan pulled her back by her hair, holding her still so he could dive in for another kiss. It was desperate, deep, a reflection of the control that was slowly slipping from his grasp. Rebecca managed to pull back for air and gasped. ‘We shouldn’t be doing this.’ She urged, biting back a moan.”

“Steve, c’mon.” You pleaded quietly, toying with the hem of your thin cotton shorts. ��I get your point, just gi—”

“But he just wraps a hand around her throat, squeezing softly. He was…,” Steve paused as his eyes skimmed ahead, “He was past the point of caring. All he could think about was her body, her noises, her pleasure. Nathan should absolutely not be kidding Rebecca like this, touching her like this, but—” He nearly choked on his own breath, eyes locked on each and every minute squirm of your body, on the way you shied away from his gaze. He finished the line from the book in a low whisper, “But that only made him want her more.”

You both knew what was happening. It was the loudest silence you’d ever heard, the only sound being your quiet heaving breaths. It was a silence that reeked of disloyalty, a sweet temptation that was almost too good to ignore.

During that silence, Steve realized that he understood exactly how Nathan felt. Like the character from your book, Steve was running out of patience, out of self control. He couldn’t find the strength to move away from you, and if you didn’t move soon, he was going to do it. He was going to betray his best friend. He was going to take what he wanted from you. His last line of defense only came when he saw your eyes slowly look up. He noticed the quick pause you made at the evidence of his arousal beneath his sweatpants, the soft fabric straining against his growing bulge, and he’s two seconds away from losing it.

“Y/N, if you don’t move to the other side of this couch right now, I won’t be able to stop myself.” Steve’s warning was slow and rough.

And suddenly, it’s all too real. In so many words, he’d confirmed that he had these feelings too. The same conflicted feeling that pounded against your chest every day for three months. An identical increased heart rate, just like when he said he was your boyfriend. He’d been thinking about you, too. When you finally met his eyes, they were unlike you’d ever seen them. Dark and greedy, pupils already blown out, leaving only a thin blue ring. 

You tested the territory softly. “What if I don’t want to?”

“Move.”

The singular word was more like a growl. One last chance at stopping this, at saving your relationship with Bucky.

Instead, you scooted closer. Just enough for your knee to brush against the outside of his thigh. You leaned over and reached across his lap, taking the long forgotten book from his hand. He looked almost relieved, thinking that you were going to take your book and return to reading in solitude. But his hands clenched into fists when he heard your soft voice once more.

“‘I don’t care.’ Nathan panted as he bit down on her earlobe.” You read softly, slowly, making sure every word sinks in. “‘We’ll deal with the consequences later. Right now, I have to have you.’ Neither he nor Rebecca had the chance to protest before Nathan… before Nathan slid ins—”

The passage was cut short when Steve pulled you closer by the nape of your neck, his lips pushing feverishly against yours. Your surprise lasted for but a moment before you melted into him, and your eyes fluttered closed.

His hands squeezed at you, at the back of your neck and at your hip, wanting you closer. One hand snatched the book away and threw it somewhere behind the couch. Just as quickly, Steve’s hands pushed you backward, your back hitting the fabric with a soft thud. He didn’t hesitate to pull your legs apart, slotting himself between them as he leaned over to kiss you once more. You gasped at his sudden manhandling, and he used the opportunity to slide his tongue into your mouth, drinking up every little noise that fell from your lips.

His hand slid up your back and into your hair, pulling you away for the briefest moment. He could feel every nerve standing on end when you tried leaning back in to kiss him again, desperate to feel his lips on yours. Still, he held you back by your hair, groaning at the little whine you let out. The tip of his nose just barely ran up your throat as he breathed in and inhaled the raw scent of your need. 

“Why couldn’t you just fucking move, huh?” 

He growled out his question, mostly to himself. There’s a tiny voice — caution, loyalty — nagging at him to stop. That making out with his best friend’s girlfriend was wrong. That thinking of all the ways he was going to bring you to the edge of ecstasy was immoral. But Steve’s eyes were glued to your every movement, to the way your back arched and how your hands clutched onto his white t-shirt. And he can’t stop. Steve was the Nathan to your Rebecca. He had to have you.

Still, you silently contemplate the question as well. Why didn’t you move? What about him was so infectious, so undeniable that you needed him to touch you, if only to know what it’s like? He licked and sucked at your throat. His rough hands gripped at your outer thigh, pulling them close to his hip. Every movement was so sure, so certain. He knew what he wanted, and he was going to take it — the thought made you squirm beneath. 

The shameful thought that crosses your mind breaks your heart: Bucky never touched me like this. She should be mortified, embarrassed. 

Instead, her hips buck into Steve’s.

“Thought about this for so long.” He murmured against the sensitive skin of your neck. He bit down, making you cry out, before soothing the spot with his tongue. “Dreamt of doing the filthiest things to you. And then last night, all those fucking noises.”

You tried to hide your burning face by covering yourself with your arms, but Steve was quick to pull them away. “That why you’re always such a brat? Never been put in your place?” He asked, his tone a bit condescending.

It’s shameful, the way your mind jumps to Bucky, to how he pampered and spoiled you, even in the bedroom. Even worse was the desperate mewl you let out at Steve’s tone, shaking your head.

“Don’t worry, pretty girl.” Steve mumbled, pressing wet kisses down her body. Down, down, down, until he was kissing the waistband of your cute little cotton shorts that always drove him crazy. “We’ll fix that attitude right up.”

You counted yourself lucky that you lifted your hips in time for him to yank your shorts and panties down in one swift yank. You were sure that he wouldn’t have hesitated to tear them off of you. There was no time for you to feel bashful or shy about bearing yourself to Steve — as soon as the soft fabric left your skin, his hands were pushing at the back of your knees, up and out, so he could get an eyeful of your glistening pussy.

“Fuck.” He was entranced, mouth falling open as he pushed his index finger past your lips, through your juices. “All this for me, pretty girl?”

“Mhmm.” You hummed as your eyes fluttered closed.

“Use your words.” His eyes caught yours as his finger just barely brushed your swelling clit, and you knew it wasn’t an instruction. It was a warning.

You bit back the urge to say something snarky as you normally would, knowing that he wouldn’t hesitate to deny you what you wanted. “‘S for you. It’s all for you.” You moaned softly.

Steve could see the reluctance in your eyes and chuckled to himself. He was going to enjoy this. Maybe that was why he was so attracted to you. Because you were such a smartass, a brat. He liked that you fought him, taunted him, teased him. That meant that there and then, with you squirming below him as he licks through your dripping cunt, tonguing at your clit, he could break you down.

He saw right through that tough, bossy girl facade. He was going to tear you down, destroy you, then build you up again. Even if he never got to touch you again, he wasn’t going to let you forget that he could reduce you to a quivering, moaning mess.

A dream come to life is the only thing to describe it. Steve buried his face in your cunt like it was oxygen and he, a suffocating man. His stubble stung deliciously as his tongue flicked back and forth over your clit. Then, when your moans and whimpers became more frequent, more high-pitched, he’d back off — drag his tongue down to your opening to drink up the juices he’d pulled from you so effortlessly. Even when you buried your fingers in his hair, trying to pull his tongue back to your clit, desperate to come, he just pinned your hands down by your hips, continuing to lick, suck, and tease.

“You don’t come until I say so.” He mumbled into your pussy, his beard drenched in you. “Now, keep these legs open, pretty baby.”

When his tongue returned to your soaking core, you swore you were going to explode. The pleasure was almost torturous, twisting in the depths of your belly like it wanted to rip you apart from the inside out. Instinctively, your thighs started to tighten around Steve’s head, and he let out a moan against your swollen pussy lips. The vibrations almost overtook you, but he pulled away before you could fall into bliss, letting go of your wrists to smack you hard on your inner thighs. “What did I just say?” He said, his gaze dark as he stared at you.

“Can’t help it.” You admitted softly, a whimper escaping your lips when one of his strong hands stuck between the valley of your breasts and up to your neck. “Need it so bad.”

“Do you? ‘Cause you haven’t even asked me nicely. You can’t want it that badly.” He feigned sympathy for you as he crawled back up your body, lips brushing against yours as he spoke.

“I wanna come.” You whined, brow furrowed in desperation.

“You should’ve thought about that when you were being a smartass.”

Before you could complain, he tugged you up by his grip on your neck, pulling at your limbs until you were sitting on his lap. Your mind took a minute to catch up to Steve’s manhandling, but he regained your attention when he pulled his t-shirt off. Your eyes trailed over his torso, over the thick muscle and strong pecs that you suddenly had an overwhelming desire to squeeze.

He snapped his fingers, “Hey, eyes up here.” You almost feel embarrassed by how quickly you followed his instructions, just barely shrinking under his smug gaze. “If you want to come, you have to work for it. Earn it.”

At first, you weren’t sure what he meant. Hadn’t you earned it by now, you thought. Lying there with his tongue pushing in and out of her cunt, his lips sucking on your clit, without being allowed to come seemed like torture enough. But when he shifted his hips beneath you, pressing his clothed dick into your puffy folds, you gathered his intentions.

You moved your hips forward once, experimenting with the feeling. And when you let out a much louder moan than you anticipated, you suddenly understood how far he’s willing to go. The soft fabric of his sweatpants brushed across your already sensitive pussy, leaving the faintest tinge of a burn on your skin. You could feel the heat of him, feel him twitch beneath you as you ground your hips desperately against him.

All the while, Steve looked on with a smirk. He could practically feel the reluctance evaporating from your body. He saw the way your shoulders drooped, the way your head lolled and your eyes almost rolled back in your head. He kept careful watch of you, listening as your moans got more desperate, even bracing your hands on his shoulders to grind down harder. But he stopped you, slowed your pace, leaving you dangling off that edge with a whine. 

In response, he let out a smug chuckle. “Did you think it’d be that easy? You’re not getting anything until you beg.”

Beg? You hadn’t begged for anything in your life. Not with your parents, not with any of your exes, and certainly not with Bucky. That was where you drew the line. You just wanted him to give you what you wanted. Without thinking, your hands drifted down his torso, reaching for his waistband. You hoped that maybe if you could touch his cock, just once, he’d give in and fuck you.

Before your hands could reach their destination, he snatched up your wrists in one hand. He tugged you forward so that your pussy was pressed firmly against his shaft beneath his pants. His eyes bored into yours, and you suddenly wondered when he became this intimidating.

“That might work on your little boyfriend, but it won’t work on me.” He gritted out. “You’ve got one more chance before I lose my patience.”

Steve should have felt guilty for saying that. He should have paused and stopped what he was doing. But he didn’t. Objectively, it was wrong, but his dick twitched in his pants nonetheless. Nothing was going to stop him short of your saying no. He was going to utterly ruin you for other men — including Bucky.

You’d truly underestimated just how long he was willing to edge you. He kept the same routine each time. You ground your pussy on his clothed cock until there was a large wet patch on his crotch, a mixture he was certain was mostly you with a bit of him. He’d wait longer and longer each time, letting you get closer and closer but never letting you fall over into your orgasm. You lost track after the fifth time.

Finally, you couldn’t take it anymore. You were wound so tight that you were sure you would explode from the tiniest touch, if only he’d let you. Steve even added on to the heat coursing through your body, cooing meanly at the desperate tears building in your eyes. At last, you whimpered the word that he’d been waiting to hear, “Please.”

Steve’s brow perked up, “Speak up, pretty baby. Can’t hear you when you mumble like that.”

“Please.” You’re louder this time, clearer, tension rolling off your back as you succumbed to him. “Please, I need to come.”

“Doesn’t sound like you’re asking.” He teased.

“Please, can I? Can I please come?” It was then that you finally let go of all defiance, giving in to Steve. You didn’t want to be a smartass. You didn’t want to be a brat or make him angry, like you usually did. Then and there, all you wanted to do was let him make you come. A tear fell down your cheek as you begged, and he cupped your cheek, brushing it away with his thumb.

“There she is. All obedient and compliant. Just needed someone to fix that attitude, huh?”

He smirks at the way you nodded wantonly, loving how absolutely wrecked you looked. Now that you’d finally given in, he’d give you what you wanted. He was a man of his word, after all.

He pulled you off of his lap to which you’d closed your eyes and let out a whine, “You said—“

“I know what I said, pretty baby. I’m gonna make you come, don’t worry. Gonna make you cum till you’re begging me to stop.” He told her, bending her over the arm of the couch. Suddenly, his hand was in your hair tugging your head up. Your back arched as he leaned over you, his lips against your ear. “He could walk in any minute now.”

Your eyes shot open as you realized he had you facing the front door. Neither of you knew when Bucky would be home. Stop him, a voice called from the back of your mind. Don’t go any further. Don’t do this. Then, you felt the head of Steve’s bare cock pushing through your folds, your juices leaking onto his shaft.

“And you’re still gonna let me fill this tight pussy up, aren’t you?” You could hear his hand slide over his cock, spreading your wetness over the shaft.

Filthy. Wrong. Immoral.

“Yes.” You sighed out prettily.

Stop. Degenerate. Selfish.

“Let me hear you say it, pretty girl.” His tip nudged at your entrance.

Bad. Depraved. Shameless.

“I want you to fuck me.” 

Too late.

His cock stretched you wide, pulsing steadily as he pushed deeper inside, letting out a long moan. He used his knee to spread your legs wider, and the tip knocked into your G-spot. Your eyes rolled back as your orgasm built quicker than expected. Pleas began to fall from your lips without hesitation. “Can I come, Steve? I can’t hold it — please say yes!”

“Go ahead, pretty baby. Come on my cock.”

Like his voice controlled your body, your cunt fluttered around him. You let out a loud moan, crying out his name. If you had your wits about you, you might’ve been worried about the neighbors hearing. But you could barely hear your own voice, ears ringing as your body quivered. The pleasure crawled up your spine, exciting every nerve along the way. Had it not been for Steve’s hand in your hair holding up upright, you’re sure you would’ve collapsed.

“Shit.” Steve let out a groan and leaned back a bit, his hands pulling your ass apart to get a better view of your twitching pussy drooling all over the length of him. “Better than I fucking imagined.”

There was no chance to gather your bearings before he started thrusting into you, deep and slow. He was reaching so deep inside you, punching places with his cock that you didn’t know existed. All you could do was take it, your pussy gripping him like a vice.

“This what you wanted all this time?” He leaned over your body to mumble in your ear. “Haven’t been properly fucked in so long, have you?”

Your cheeks burned at how easily Steve was able to see through you. You only responded with a loud whine as he bit down lightly on your earlobe.

“Been reading those dirty little stories to get your fix. Me and Mr. Fucking Jones, hm?” He let out a teasing chuckle. “You won’t need those books anymore, pretty baby, I got you.”

The knot in your stomach was wound so tight, you could already feel the ache in your core. You were shocked, stunned that you could feel so sensitive after only coming once. But that was exactly what he wanted — overstimulated from the start. When his cock started passing over your G-spot with every thrust, you reached a hand back, pressing it weakly against his hips. “‘S too much!” You moaned, twisting your neck to look at him with wide, pleading eyes.

“Uh-uh, this is what you were begging for, baby. You can take it, c’mon.” He pulled your hand behind your back, using his grip on you as leverage for his thrusts. A deep groan vibrated through his chest when your cunt squeezed around him, your ass bouncing off his thighs. “That’s it, you can do it. Tell me you can take my dick.”

You keened at his praise, whimpering as his tip pounded into that spongy spot inside you, bringing you closer and closer to orgasm. “I c-can!”

“You can what, honey?”

“I can take it!” You moaned, fingers clutching onto the fabric of the couch. “Oh my god, please don’t stop!”

“Good girl.” He pressed harder on the hand behind your back, watching your spine curve in a deeper arch. “So fucking pretty. Gonna come again for me?”

You couldn’t even manage to hold it back. Just hearing the words good girl sent you into a spiral, pussy spasming uncontrollably as your thighs shook. Cloud nine didn't even begin to describe the euphoria that washed over you. Each wave was stronger than the next, and Steve’s nonstop assault on your G-spot didn’t help. You vaguely heard him talking you through it — aw, that feel too good, pretty girl? that’s right, keep squeezing my cock, fuck you’re so wet — as you pushed your hips back, meeting him thrust for thrust.

“So fucking tight.” He gritted out, punctuating each word with one hard thrust of his cock. You felt his cock twitch inside you, and he let out the smallest growl. “Fuck, you’re gonna make me come.”

“Want it.” You moaned, body jolting with each thrust. “Want you.”

Suddenly, his arm was around your neck, pulling you up so his chest was pressed against your back. “This is my pussy now, baby.” He panted, his breath hot in your ear. His blood was pumping too fast, too hard for him to feel bad about what he said. “Day and night, you’re fucking mine, you got that?”

Your eyes were glued on the front door, even as his words made your pussy flutter. The tiniest shred of remorse seized your heart, and you shook your head, hands gripping his forearm around your neck. A few tears spilled down your cheeks, a pitiful mix of guilt and desperation. “No.” You whimpered as your eyes fluttered closed. “No, I c-can’t. What about—“

“Don’t lie to me.” He growled, watching your body shiver when he pressed two fingers hard on your clit. “You might feel bad — Hell, I might, too. You’ll kiss him, you’ll sleep next to him, you might even love him. But this cunt? She’ll fucking drool at the thought of my cock, won’t she?”

You didn’t answer. You both knew the answer, only confirmed by how your cunt pulsed around him. He rubbed your clit in tight, fast little circles, wanting to hear you admit it. “Won’t she?”

You squealed, the oversensitivity taken to a new level as the pain and pleasure attempted to rip you apart from the inside out. You whimpered and nodded — too late for shame, for modesty.

“Say it, baby. Say it like a good girl.”

“I’m… I’m yours.”

His cock twitched inside you again, bringing you closer to your orgasm. His arm pressed your throat, only slightly cutting off your air. You were lightheaded in the best way, feeling the pleasure creep up on you as Steve groaned in your ear. He told you to say it again, and you did. You kept saying it, kept telling Steve that you were his, that your pussy was his, until you could barely think of anything else. Even as his thrusts started to get sloppy, you moaned Steve’s name, feeling the start of your orgasm take over.

“That’s it, pretty girl, milk my cock dry. Take all my fucking come.”

Even still, under all the noise — the slapping of skin against skin, the squelch of your pussy as his cock drove in and out of you, your moans, his filthy words — you heard the click of a lock.

Your eyes only caught his for a brief moment before the pleasure crashed over you, before Steve turned your head and pressed his lips against yours, groaning as he felt you shake and come undone beneath him. All teeth and tongue, you whimpered into the kiss as you felt spurt after spurt of warm come fill you up. He thrusted hard and deep, pushing his cock further inside you until the come seeped back out, dripping down your thighs. As his tongue glided across yours, he knew he never came harder in his life. And, perhaps, unfortunately, neither had you.

You were panting into each other’s mouths, riding out your highs, when his voice called out your name, then Steve’s, quiet and hurt. His best friend. Your boyfriend. Your Bucky.

Fuck.

#marvel x reader #steve rogers x reader #marvel fanfiction #steve rogers fanfiction #marvel smut #cheating tw #dom!steve rogers x reader #sorry for this one guys ik its a lot lol

[colorsunimaginable]

the spare // chapter thirty-eight // death eater ! tom hiddleston x plus size ofc - voldemort wins au

story summary:  While on a mission to avenge the death of her best friend, Ilvermorny graduate Melisa Alder finds herself in the middle of the fight to defeat Voldemort. Upon capture after the Dark Lord's triumph, she's being sold at an auction with other muggle borns and blood traitors. Her only hope is also her only bidder - the tall, dark, and handsome Thomus Malfoy, Lucius Malfoy's younger half-brother. Is he just another Death Eater or is he hiding more than just his face beneath the mask? Will she realize her true potential to be one of the resistance's greatest weapons?

*a Voldemort Wins AU with Tom Hiddleston cast as an OC x a plus size protagonist* *takes place in The Auction universe by Lovesbitca8*

words for this chapter: 4.7k warnings for this chapter: um... none? unfair treatment of elves?

CHAPTER MASTERLIST

Chapter Thirty-Eight:

The longer I sit with what I’d just done, the more anxious and stressed out I get. I hadn’t expected Montague to down it all in one go. What kind of maniac does that?

I want to take longer sips of my own drink to calm my nerves. I’m already hyper aware of any weird reactions to the pain potion I took earlier and the alcohol I’ve already had tonight. My heart is thundering in my chest, and time seems to slow as I wait for something to happen.

Montague doesn’t return from the crowd even when the lights dim again. Best case scenario, he’s puking in a toilet or in a field out back. I don’t feel bad about what I did – I only fear the consequences.

As they get Seamus and Dean ready in the ring, I look for Thomus. The crowd at the bannister across the way hasn’t thinned, seeming to prefer watching the match than having a meeting. There’s a corner where I have an unblocked view of some couches covered with Death Eaters. It catches my eye because there are a few girls sitting in Death Eaters laps, Thomus among them. Seeing a girl in Thomus’ lap installs a confusing and unwelcome mix of emotions in me.

I stare for as long as I can bare before averting my attention to the match Rabastan is starting. Dean and Seamus don’t need introductions, Rabastan simply hollers “Round Two!” before the bell dings. Their fighting style is different than Ron and Neville’s, going for a wrestling type of approach instead.

I glance back over at Thomus, but I don’t see him anymore, just the girl. She’s beautiful and intense feelings of inadequacy churn in my gut. Thoughts I’ve been able to smother since I’ve been taking the pain potion spring up like dandelions. My fingers drift up and down the leash attaching me to the table. I don’t know how many days I’ve been a bed-bound zombie, but this blatant reminder I’m not enough for him brings my fury to the surface.

Why am I so caught up in him anyway? He fucking ruined my first time. It had been wonderful right up until the moment of his confession. I’d accepted that my first time wasn’t going to be an act of love, but at the very least I’d been lead to believe… I don’t know what I had thought. What I was hoping for is absolutely insane.  

And he just had to be a dick about the whole thing. If he’d been up front about it, about what needed to be done, then I might feel differently. I brace my forehead in my hands, elbows propped on the table. My chest aches with every breath.

“I’m baaack!” My head pops up to see Montague sliding back into the booth, two drinks in his hands. He places one near my own. “Brought one for you.”

Instinctively, I pull my “original” glass towards myself more, my arms folding around it. I pinch my wrist in a desperate attempt to clear any unwanted emotions from my head. My stubby nails dig into where I’m pinching and the sharp pain brings my mind into focus.

I don’t touch the new drink, but give him a tight, polite smile. I watch his face as he settles in, making our knees and calves touch again. There doesn’t seem to be anything off about him yet.

He takes a drink from his glass. “Blimey, I don’t know what they’re putting in these tonight, but I feel great!”

Damn. Maybe there wasn’t enough of the potion to make a difference. I feel like a cat who knocked something over just to see what would happen.

 I look down at the ring and see they’re rolling around on the floor, each struggling for the dominant position. It’s just as hard to watch as the first round, even if I can’t hear the thunk and thump of flesh against flesh. Montague turns and looks as well, but makes a disgruntled noise before looking back at me.

“It’s like watching monkeys don’t you think?” he asks. “Next they’ll start throwing their shit around.”

My eyes narrow and I try not to make a disgusted face at his blatantly racist comparison. “You seemed to have no objection to the last round,” I say.

“Of course not. They were throwing actual punches like an actual fight. This is clearly a result of their muggle heritage.” He looks briefly down at the ring again. “I bet twenty galleons on Weasley anyway.”

“There’s gambling involved in this?”

He doesn’t miss the disbelief in my tone and he scoffs. “Don’t be daft. You think these are just for entertainment? They make their owners filthy fucking rich is what they do.”

I give a slow nod of understanding and fiddle with the straw in my drink.

“I’m Graham, by the way,” he says lightly. He holds his hand out, hovering in the middle of the small space. “I know your last name’s Alder, but I don’t recall your first.”

“I’m not gonna shake your hand,” I say, my voice firm. “Not after what you did to me.”

“Oh, you’re not gonna hold a little thing like that over my head, are you?” A smile curves his lips. “It could’ve been a lot worse.”

I scowl at him. “All the more reason.”

“Fine,” he says, pulling his hand back. “At least tell me your name then.”

I press my back against the booth, my scowl transitioning into a dry smile. “When pigs fly.”

He snickers, his eyes raking down my font. “That can be arranged.”

Not knowing what to say, I tear my eyes away from his creepy grin and seek out Thomus again. The girl is still in his lap, but it looks as if he’s leaning away, trying to listen to something someone’s saying. I’d been hoping that a glimpse of him would be a respite in dealing with Montague, but it’s only made the same emotions flare up inside.

When I look back at Montague, all I feel is fucking bitter. Bitter fucking rage.

I tilt my head. “So you’re not afraid of Malfoy, then?”

He blows out air through his lips. “I’m just as afraid of him as I am of you.”

I force a teasing smile on my face. “That’s… surprisingly very brave of you,” I say.

“It’s not surprising at all,” he says, puffing out his chest. “The Dark Lord has the very best under his command.”

“No doubt you’re one of them.” I lay the flattery in my voice on thick, testing for his reaction. In addition to his puffed out chest, he’s squared his shoulders and raised his chin. As he opens his mouth to say something else, I lift my glass to take a drink, and he stops what he’s saying to mirror me.

Interesting.

Mirrored body language usually implies some kind of interest. I guess it really shouldn’t be a surprise. Even if he’s not actually attracted to me, he’s a fan of the power dynamics, if the past is any indication.

I put my drink down and lean forward on my elbows. He almost leans forward as well, but stops himself. “So what’s such a brave man like you do for the Dark Lord?”

He eyes my cleavage before looking back up at my face. “I’m part of a team rebuilding Hogwarts.”

“Rebuilding it for him?” I ask, my head tilted again, trying to maintain a look of innocence.

“Partly. We’re readying it for the school to reopen.”

“Like… for the kids to return?”

Montague nods. “I’m also part of a team handling the new curriculum. Umbridge and I have ensured that there won’t be any hogwash taught at Hogwarts any longer.”

“You must be modelling it after the Hitler Youth program,” I joke.

“The what?”

“Never mind.”

He shrugs and takes a long drink from his glass. When he puts it down, his eyelids are droopy and his heads at half-mast. I reach forward and grab his hand that had been around his drink. Flipping it over, I start mindlessly tracing his fingers and palm. A shiver runs through his body and the stiffness in his form from earlier has relaxed.

“Do you know if any prisoners are being kept there?” I ask slowly. I haven’t heard anything about what happened after the battle beyond what I’d been through myself. What were they doing with everyone else they didn’t sell?

“What prisoners?” he asks. He sounds sleepy, but his words are clear.

Damn. Maybe he doesn’t know as much as I was hoping he would. “You know, members of the Order and people like that.”

Montague’s eyes are on me as a sick snicker leaves his mouth. “There are no prisoners. The Great Order finished them all off.”

“Everyone?” I ask, barely above a whisper. I remember the piles of burnt bodies when Thomus brought me to Voldemort, but I’d assumed it couldn’t have been everyone.

He sighs, his fingers curling around mine and squeezing them tight. “The only prisoners we have are the whores like you and the monkeys down below.”

I yank my fingers out of his grasp and sit back. My teeth are clenched, fingernails digging into the top of my forearms. He takes another long swig of his drink, almost finishing it. When he puts it down, he looks more sluggish than ever, lazy eyes looking at the countdown clock.

“Finally, this ones almost over.” He grips the edge of the table and the bannister to turn his body to watch the rest of the match. I can’t bear to look down there right now.

God, this is all so fucking hopeless isn’t it? There’s no one on the outside of this. I know George is out there and so is Sam. Mr. I-Need-To-Talk-To-You-Soon Sam who never bothers to show up again. Isn’t it really only a matter of time before Thomus captures George? Maybe he already has and I just don’t know. As if Thomus ever actually tells me anything.

I look at the balcony across the room. This is the closest I’ve been to a meeting since Cliveden and I’m confused as fuck why there are special rules for me. Why wasn’t I allowed in, but those other Lots were? It should be me sitting awkwardly on Thomus’ lap, not some other girl.

Flames of that bitter rage lick at my insides. I look down at the end of the leash attached to the table. Maybe I’ve been picking the wrong emotion to inspire my magic.

Thomus has me pegged all wrong. I’m not self-righteous. Rage, pure fucking rage made me overcome the visions from Voldemort’s Horcrux and plunge the Basilisk fang into it. I didn’t choose to work at the Daily Prophet for nothing. That was a calculated move. It’s rage that drove me across the Atlantic to seek revenge for Sam’s murder. It took me months to perfect the Polyjuice potion to my specific needs so I could get in and out of the Ministry without detection. And now, it’s rage for what’s happening not only to me, but to everyone here in this country like me. No-Maj borns, blood-traitors, or whatever the fuck they wanna call us.

Rage for this douche in front of me who decided he had a right to use my body. Rage for the assholes making these poor kids physically fight their fucking friends. Rage at that asshole with a girl in his lap who made me believe that I was safe with him, who fooled me into believing someone I wanted actually wanted me back.

My skin prickles with the emotion as I let it consume me. I focus on taking deep breaths as the crowd starts to count down again. Covering the end of the leash with one hand, I think in repetition of the words to undo the sticking charm. My other hand slyly tugs at the chain, testing to see if it’s worked. But it doesn’t.

Needing a fresh wave of rage, I look over at Thomus again. The girl is kissing him!

I feel my eye twitch and the next tug on the leash actually slides it across the table.

The crowd roars as the round finishes, their intense energy matches mine with every beat of my pulse in my ears. Thank fuck that worked. How many days has it been since I last took the potion? The last time I had magic was the night before the inspection, and it had been five days prior. I hope that it’s been fewer days this time.

Rabastan announces Seamus as the winner. The lights come back on, but not as bright as before. Little figures are filing into the ring behind him. They look like… house elves, but I’ve never seen them this dressed up. Their clothes are made up of the brightest and new looking dish rags and pillow cases I’ve ever seen on an elf. Makeup on their face makes them look like tiny, terrifying clowns.

They start to fucking sing and suddenly my eyes dart around the room, looking for possible escape. I’m basically free, right? There’s no barrier Thomus brought me across to lock me in like at the cottage and in Edinburgh. I won’t have to drag this stupid fucking table.

Maybe I could just Apparate out of here. Holy shit.

The singing goes on briefly before everyone seems to lose interest. The crowd at the bannisters have filled the space between them and the bar. There’s too many people to just slip through to the end of the room where the only exit is. Maybe I could jump the…

My eyes drop down to the sea of people below the balcony. Mmm no, I couldn’t.

Briefly I close my eyes, trying to figure out where I’d want to Apparate to. Shell Cottage? If anyone’s still there. I try to push myself and nothing happens. Fuck, how could I forget the Anti-Apparition jinx on this place? It’s why we had to Apparate on the hill.

My excitement is slowly fading when I realize I really don’t have an easy escape route. The option with the most pizzazz would be blasting my way out of here, throwing curses and jinx at anyone in my way. The odds of me getting out alive after that are not high.

Montague is still turned around, talking to the person standing behind him in the space between the booths. Montague’s words sound sluggish now and I let my eyes peak at the person he’s talking to.

The guy is looking directly at me. It’s not a creepy stare, but a knowing one. He looks… familiar. Dark brown hair falling around his face from an over grown haircut, a trimmed short beard in a suit. He smiles politely at what Montague is saying about the match, but doesn’t engage with him.

Someone comes up behind the man, taking his attention away from Montague. And it’s – oh, it’s Will!

The man makes Will turn to greet Montague, but he quickly catches sight of me. A smile brightens his face, dimples appearing in his cheeks. “Melisa,” he says. “Hi.”

I’m too nervous to even try to smile. Montague saves me from having to respond with a greeting by being annoying. I take a deep breath as he speaks, reigning in on my Occlumency to keep cool.

He turns back to me, a lazy smirk on his face. “Mel-Lee-Sah? Ha! That’s funny.”

My eyes zero in on him. “Say it again and it won’t be so funny.”

His jaw drops and he leans in, “Is that a threat?” he asks.

“Alright, alright, alright,” says the man he was talking to. Seeing him stand next to Will makes him look even more familiar. He starts pushing Will out of his way. “Care if we joined you? It’s been a nightmare to find a seat.”

He takes a seat right next to Montague, and Will slides in next to me. I’m suddenly self-conscious of my size taking up too much space in the booth seat. He fits in with me, and I can tell he has room, but our thighs are still touching. I press back against the bannister to give him as much space as possible.

“Uh, Melisa,” says Will, whose eyes are jumping from me to the familiar stranger and Montague and vice versa. He clears his throat. “This is Kyle Goldman. You met him at Edinburgh.”

Oh, right. One of Astors friends.

“Hi,” I say, I can barely hear myself over the loud noise from the crowd and the singing. “I’m sorry the last few times we met I wasn’t on my best behavior.”

Kyle smiles. It’s kind. “That’s hardly your fault.”

I turn to Will. “I’m also sorry I dug my shoe into your foot the last time I saw you.”

“It was understandable,” he says, chuckling. “Besides, it was nothing I couldn’t walk away from.”

“How noble,” Montague mutters bitterly. He’s been drinking his second drink silently until now. His posture is slumped, his head propped up in one of his hands.

“You know, last time I saw you, you were getting your ass beat by Malfoy,” Will says to him.

“And what of it?” he snaps in return. “What I did, dozens of others have done. Maybe not to her, but no one else has bothered to care. I don’t care what nobody says, there’s something wrong with that prat’s head.”

“What do you mean?” Kyle asks, sounding genuinely interested.

“’Cause no bloke gets that territorial over a mudblood – especially one who looks like that – if there wasn’t something wonky goin’ on.”

“What the fuck do you know about it?” spits Thomus, suddenly appearing at the table.

I quickly reattach the leash to the table before turning my gaze on him. He’s glaring at Montague. “I’m not some sniveling classmate of yours, boy.” He’s raised a finger and is pointing right at him. “I will not hesitate to throttle you.”

Everyone’s eyes are jumping back and forth between Montague and Thomus.

“I think I’m gonna be sick,” Montague mutters breathlessly. Kyle immediately gets up and Montague darts through the crowd.

“At least there’s room for you now,” Will says. “Kyle slide over and I’ll come to you so that –“

“Where’s Jake?” Thomus asks impatiently. He doesn’t spare me a glance. “The meeting hasn’t even started because they wanted to talk to him the most.”

Will immediately stands. “We’ll go look for him. Let’s go.”

Kyle joins him and they start their way through the crowd.

“Tell him to meet me over there,” Thomus says, pointing to the opposite side of the barn. “He can’t possibly get lost.”

Then Thomus turns to me. “You.”

“What?” I ask.

“How long was Montague sitting here?”

“Since half-way through the first round,” I provide quickly, turning my face away. “I’m sure you would’ve noticed if you weren’t busy shoving your tongue down some poor girls throat.”

He slides into the booth opposite me. His eyebrows are shoved together so close in his anger and I think I might see a vein bulging at his temple. “In case you haven’t noticed, I’m not the reigning authority around here and I do not get to choose who gets in and who doesn’t.”

I sit back as far as the narrow seat will provide, crossing my arms and giving him my best dead eyes. “No, but you do get to choose who sits in your lap.”

He sits back and rubs the bridge between his eyes, grimacing. “Do you want to sit in my lap?” he asks. “Is that what this is all about?”

I fight back the blush threatening to bloom across my face. Fuck, what do I say? I need to get into that meeting.

“It’s far better an option than watching this bullshit all evening.” I mildly gesture to the ring below. The elves are finishing up their routine.

He doesn’t say anything, so my eyes flicker to his glare, briefly meeting his eyes before he gets out of the booth. He undoes the sticking charm and waits as I shuffle out of the seat.

As he pulls me through the crowd, he prefers a hand on my waist than leading me just by the leash. When we get to the guards at the Death Eater side, Jacob Astor is finishing climbing the stairs. Will and Kyle aren’t with him.

“Ah, finally!” Thomus say, a forced smile cracking his face. “Jake, where on Earth have you been?”

“I was just downstairs, Thom,” Astor says.

Thomus sputters. “Just down – they’ve delayed the meeting waiting for you, their guest.”

“Shit – Uh, Jacob Astor,” he says, quickly stepping up the guards and they let him through. Thomus follows, but they stop him.

“Malfoy, what did we say earlier?” one of them says.

“She’s my property and I shall take her anywhere I like,” Thomus seethes. “You either let us through or I shall tell Yaxley exactly who delayed me.”

They give each other a look, but then one rolls their eyes and steps aside. Thomus quickly pulls me through by the leash and I’m close on his heels. I quickly notice the girls from before are gone.

He leads me directly to the back, shoving himself into the corner of an L-shaped couch. Without hesitation, he pulls me into his lap. My arm goes around his shoulders as I my ass presses right into his lap. I quickly shove myself back until my ass is on the cushions with only my legs draped across his thighs. My arm around him ensures I’m still tucked into his side. The leash dangles loose in my lap, caught on one of the buttons.

While we’ve been settling, Astor has been introduced to the group by Yaxley. No one seems to care that I’m there. I keep quiet, trying not to stare as I listen to the conversation.

“Thank you so much for coming,” Yaxley says. “It’s such a pleasure to see you again. I hope this evening proved entertaining enough for you?”

Astor chuckles. “Don’t worry, I’ve found plenty to occupy myself.”

“We appreciate you and your men’s assistance in ridding Dover of the blood traitor scum,” someone says.

“It was our pleasure. The Astor’s have never had any hesitation to protect our interests.” Astor’s position in his chair is casual, like he’s done this a hundred times. “My people and I would love to be of more help.”

“That’s the spirit, young man,” says a man with a grey handlebar mustache and balding head. He taps his cane on the ground in his seat near Astor. “We thought you’d like to hear of a lucrative opportunity to… expand our trade.”

Astor’s head tilts, curious. “What trade is that?”

The man with the cane sends his eyes to me and I swear the skin prickles on the backs of my arms. Just as he speaks, his voice gets drowned out by the crowd below going nuts for Round Three. It seems I’m the only one who doesn’t hear what he says, because Thomus stiffens next to me. Well, briefly, until he relaxes. He puts a hand on the inside of my thigh, possessively gripping it over the fabric of the dress.

Astor keeps a polite smile on his face. “I think ultimately that would be a bit tricky to cross international lines. Initially I think it would have to be invite only.”

“A splendid idea,” Yaxley says. “Do you –“

The crowd roars again and Astor turns around in his seat to try to get a look at the ring. Then he turns back to the group with a sheepish grin.

“You guys just had to invite me to an event I’m actually interested in.” He stands. “How about we meet again at my residence tomorrow? I can assure you there will be far less enticing distractions.”

Yaxley stands too, clearly putting on a tight forced grin, and they shake hands. “Sounds fine.”

Astor and the group immediately stand to rush to the balcony to watch the final round. Thomus stays put on the couch. He’s scowling at the coffee table in front of us.

The steady ache in my lower back has decided to become a steady sharp ache in my abdomen as well. The pain breaks through my Occlumency calmness and makes me wince. God, why haven’t I healed from this yet? I shift in Thomus’ lap probably one too many times, trying to alleviate the ache.

His hand squeezes my thigh even tighter. “Why are you squirming?” he says through his teeth.

“How long has it been since the inspection?” I ask him, point blank. His eyes shoot to mine.

“Why?”

“It’s been days, right?” I press.

“Four.”

The sharpest cramp yet stabs it’s way deep into my abdomen and I instinctively try to shift, but he tries to stop me, but his grip slips on the dress and he ends up grabbing me higher up the inside of my thigh. Where it’s nothing but squishy flesh and heat. It makes my breath catch in my throat and I try to brush it off as the pain.

“Then it shouldn’t hurt this much, right?” I ask breathlessly.

 “Um,” he hesitates, sitting up more, the arm behind my back pulls me closer. His brows aren’t pushed together in anger now, but concern as he scans my expression. “I’m not sure. Do you have any of the pain potion with you?”

“My guy this dress doesn’t have pockets.”

“Right.”

The hand gripping my leg releases me and I quickly swing my legs until my boots hit the floor. He stands, pulling me up with him.

“Jake, I’ll see you tomorrow!” Thomus calls to Astor as he starts shuffling me out.

“Bring Alder tomorrow!” Astor calls back. “I’ll need her.”

Probably needs me to serve again. Fucking perfect.

Thomus doesn’t respond, but grumbles something to himself. When we get to the guards, who’re stepping aside to let us out, we get stopped by the man with the cane with his cane.

“I wanted to apologize for earlier, young Thomus. Once Cassie sets her eyes on someone, I refuse to be the boulder in her path.”

Cassie is who was kissing him? From Cliveden? Just my fucking luck.

“It’s quite alright, Ted,” Thomus says, another forced charming smile. “Poor girl just had to had to get rejected the hard way.”

Ted laughs. “Quite right. Whore should have known better than to test Thomus Malfoy’s limits, isn’t that right?” He’s suddenly looking at me, his cane poking me in the stomach.

I have no idea what to say, so I wrap my arms around Thomus’, pulling myself closer. The man seems to be waiting for an answer, so I just nod silently.

Ted laughs again, louder this time, clearly at me. “You’d think she’d be a little feistier given that outrageous hair color.”

“It makes hate fucking her real easy,” Thomus says, his tone dark. What he says makes me want to squirm.

He pats Thomus on the back. “You have fun with that young man.” Can Thomus tell he’s being condescending?

Finally we turn away from him and pass through the guards and down the stairs. From the way everyone’s shouting, the round must be ending soon. I don’t bother to look at the time on the clock.

I didn’t realize how warm the inside of the barn is until we step outside into the cool night air. The smell of farm animals drifts through on the breeze as we begin walking around the barn – back up the hill, I suppose.

Mostly everyone’s inside except for three figures that come into light as we pass them. Someone’s obviously puking their guts out, and soon I recognize the three as Montague, Will, and Kyle. Montague is bent over, Will and Kyle are around him.

“See? Now this is why you don’t pound ‘em down like their no tomorrow,” Kyle says cheerfully.

“Astor’s reconvening the meeting to tomorrow at Cliveden,” Thomus tells them. “We’ll see you there.”

“See ya’,” Will says, looking at me. I give him a little wave and follow Thomus. I turn to look back once more to see Kyle is staring at me.

Alright, well, I’m not gonna pretend that’s not weird.

#tom hiddleston #harry potter #writing #dramione #dramione inspired fic #the spare #enemies to lovers #fanfiction #tom hiddleston fic #death eater #romance #dark romance #plus size ofc #plus size #plus size romantic lead #the auction #hurt/comfort #fanfic #tom hiddleston x ofc #angst #death eaters #magic #new chapter #long fic #violence #espionage

[petty-arsonist]

HEYY. So you guys know that Pastry rant I did back in like February I’m BAAACK with another one. A remake if you will.

I don’t know how to start this so uh. I don’t know if this needs a warning, but I’m going to be talking about cults a bit but that’s all really.

-So someone on IG triggered this lovely ramble by calling her racist and I’ll never understand that, it isn’t even race it’s a damned species. If anything you’d be calling her species-ist but she still isn’t even.

>But she tried to kill Red Velvet!!!

..yeah. Because it was part of her duties as a member of the religion she’s part of, and reminder: it’s basically a cult. Reverend Mother and the Shadow Sisters are obviously hiding things, and are completely fine with someone going through harm in order to keep those secrets. She was tasked to rid the Sacred Pantry of the Cake Creatures, and Red Velvet was in her way.

Both are extremely morally Grey characters, with Pastry being under the manipulation of The Order and Red Velvet being a Cookie of Darkness, who’s been raised under Dark Enchantress’ rule, and knows no other life besides the one he’s been taught. Neither are completely evil though, as Pastry is able to see Red Velvet as a cookie and Red Velvet does not attack immediately, or even at all, but offers her to work for him and give her a home.

>She’d be abusive!!

This argument typically comes up with Pastryvelvet antis- and no, she really wouldn’t. It’s not her character. You all praise Red Velvet , but suddenly Pastry is manipulated and brought up by certain ideals and she’s the bad guy. The abusive characterization fits Dark Enchantress, Pomegranate even. Pastry is supposed to be the character who goes through something, and is either trapped in that situation or escapes.

>She isn’t a horrible person. What she did was wrong, yes, but she isn’t entirely aware of that and she believes that what she’s doing is morally correct; she’s been taught that they’re monsters. Remember, Red Velvet is still the bad guy of the story. He’s a war general of the wrong side of the war, and she’s been taught assumably her entire life that he’s the type of person who needs to purged of his sins, and to be cleansed.

She is shown secrets that finally reveal the truth of her only sanctuary, and then is told to keep quiet about it. She’s also threatened to be harmed if she doesn’t keep silent, though Shadow Sisters offer is declined. We are very aware it’s a possibility. Pastry treated the Cake Creatures like this because it’s how she’s been treated; she’s aware she’s disposable if she messes up.

Honestly, I’d like to see you switch out of ideals you’ve been raised into almost immediately, especially after being revealed a horrible truth about it.

Now, Pastryvelvet:

From how they’re characterized and how their personalities are, obviously it would take a long time for them to even become friends. Though, I also believe the two are able to help each other heal from their problems, and whether romantically or platonically, they’d probably get along. Red Velvet would probably be the one to grow fond of her first, and attempt to make up with her. She’d obviously deny any sort of platonic or romantic feelings towards him for the beginning, but they’d warm up to each other.

#cookie run kingdom #cookie run #st pastry order #pastryvelvet #pastry cookie #red velvet cookie #cookie run shipping #cookie run ships

[angelsxbelle]

hq boys when they cheat on you.

this is so angsty i’m sorry buy- i was in desperate need of haikyuu cheating angst and i couldn’t find any so i wrote some:’)

characters: atsumu, tendou, semi, bokuto

i hope this is okay, i might do more of this as a series with different characters- also for whatever reason my bokuto tags weren’t working??

warnings: mentions of sex but nothing explicit, angst, unresolved angst in some, general sadness

ATSUMU  ♡  you had noticed a change in the man you had once called your boyfriend, the late nights, the lipstick on his shirt that didn’t look familiar. the feeling that he didn’t want you anymore. and yet to the untrained eye he was the same loving and caring boyfriend he had always been. you could have sworn he was exactly the same as when you first started dating, when he was in love with you and only you. he claimed to have just been tired, he was affectionate but somewhat hesitant, as if there was something he was looking for somewhere else but couldn’t find it. so when you came home early from work one night, remembering he would still be at the practice he said he had, you finally saw what he was looking for, the bags of groceries crashing and breaking on the floor as you clutched your hand to your chest in disbelief, fingers clawing at the fabric of your shirt. atsumu’s eyes shot up to you in a millisecond, you could see the cold fear in them as he realized that you had just walked in on him on top of another girl in your bed. “b-babe! It’s not what it looks like i promise! ya just walked in at the wrong time!” you hesitated, “h-how could you do this to me tsumu? you said i was good enough, that you love me, was it nothing this entire time? you said at the beginning no other girl could compare to me, am i just nothing to you? nothing?” “just please stay i promise i can fix it! please don’t go ya can’t-” “don’t do this to me tsumu”, you say as tears spill down your cheeks. you force yourself to walk away, taking small steps as you feel like you’re about to throw up. he was right, you thought. those other girls could never compare to how worthless you were.

TENDOU  ♡  being with tendou was amazing at first, he was the best boyfriend you could ever have asked for, he always knew what to do to make you fall in love with him even more, the little things that you would always notice he did for you. and as you settled into your relationship things were still just as good, you were closer to him than before. as you had known tendou in high school and after graduating you knew him better than anyone else did, about his past, his insecurities, his fears. he was a cheerful and playful person normally, it was part of his personality but it was also his way of hiding the things he didn’t want anyone else to see. you noticed lately he was getting clingier, more anxious, the smile on his face had started to slip away as the days past and he seemed less and less like himself. all you could do was comfort him, while you laid in bed with him and held his face to your chest as you whispered all the things you loved about him into his ears as tears streamed down his face. and then one afternoon while he was at work, you got a text from your best friend. you read what she had said, but you just couldn’t understand. so you waited for him to come home. it was silent. you stood in front of him, while he sat at your kitchen table. “satori, i know you cheated on me.” his eyes got wide and you could see the panic etched in his face. “before you freak out, i’m not leaving, i hate that you did this to me, but i’m going to forgive you.” he broke down in tears in front of you, his sobs echoing off the walls of your shared apartment. you walked up to him and wrapped him up in a tight hug. “i’m s-sorry”, he cried while clutching on to your shirt, “i’ll never do it again.” you said, “i love you, and i know you need me right, now, and if you ever do i’ll leave but for right now, i can’t lose you. we can figure this out, i promise.”

SEMI  ♡  he had always told you he got shy seeing people he knew come to his shows, that it would make him nervous and that he’d mess up and freeze on the spot. and you believed him, and kept your distance since you knew you were the one he came home to, and you trusted him. and so you were content with just laying on his bare chest at home, listening to him pluck away at his guitar as he sung softly for you, it was moments like these that made up for it all. things had been going well for you, but when you had a night off of work the same day as one of his shows, you figured it couldn’t hurt to try and see him if you hid in the shadows where he couldn’t see you, and just listen to him play. and so you snuck away that night, butterflies in your stomach from nerves and hopefulness. just as you had imagined, he was amazing, every word he sang came out of his heart alive, and after it was all over you made your way backstage, hoping he wouldn’t be too upset with you. so there you stood, in the doorway of the backstage entrance, feeling your heart drop the ground and shatter as you watched your boyfriend kissing another girl against the wall, grabbing handfuls of her ass and her hair, like you had never even existed at all. his eyes opened, and grew wide as he saw you standing in the doorway. “b-babe! what are you doing here?” “i came to see you, i guess you were right, i shouldn’t have come here at all”, you said, voice cracking as you fought back tears. “w-we can still make this right though, she didn’t mean anything to me!” you could see in his eyes that he knew he was fighting a losing battle, and as you saw tears prick at the corner of his eyes, you turned around and muttered, “goodbye eita.”

BOKUTO  ♡  from the day that he asked you out with a boyish grin on his face and a blush painting his round cheeks, bokuto koutarou had been the best person to be by your side, always the right choice for you and the only man you could ever imagine being with your entire life. even after years he never changed, every day with him was just as interesting as the last and he always showered you with love, never letting you forget how much he loved you. sometimes he had to reassure you since you would get insecure occasionally, reminded of the twitter comments saying the bokuto koutarou deserved someone better looking. he would kiss you all over, saying he loved every part of you and that you were all his, forever. one night you were watching one of your favorite movies together, cuddled up on the couch together wrapped up in layers of blankets with his big arms wrapped around you. he got up to go use the bathroom, and you sat alone on the couch waiting for him to come back when you heard his phone buzz, and decided to stop and look at it to make sure it wasn’t for work. 1 image attachment. 2 image attachments. you opened up instagram to check and your heart rate skyrocketed once you saw what it was. pictures of a girl with what you could barely call lingerie on showed up on the screen, a girl with a much nicer body than yours and perfect features. “babyyy i’m baaack!!!” you looked up and held up the phone, whispering, “kou, what is this?” his face completely distorted into an expression of pure horror, all the color washing away from his cheeks. “i- i didn’t ask for those, i promise! she must be one of my fans that tried to send me pictures, i’ll block her right now!” “how am i supposed to believe you kou, you can do so much better and you know it”, you almost shouted. his heart broke when he realized what you really thought of yourself. tears started to stream down your face at the same time they leaked from your boyfriend’s eyes, he pulled you in close, whispering in your ear, “i would never hurt you baby, i love you too much.” you held onto him tighter, you knew he was telling the truth and you also knew he’d never hurt you either, never in his whole life.

so um- yeah bokuto’s originally wasn’t supposed to have a wholesome ending but he was too much of a cinnamon roll i couldn’t do it :’)

#haikyuu angst #haikyuu hurt comfort #miya atsumu x you #atsumu x reader #atsumu angst #atsumu headcanons #atsumu hcs #miya atsumu angst #tendou x you #tendou x reader #tendou angst #tendou satori x you #tendou hcs #tendou headcanon #tendou headcanons #semi x reader #semi eita x reader #semi angst #haikyuu cheating #haikyuu koutarou #hq koutarou #koutarou angst #miya atsumu x y/n #tendo x you #tendo angst

[nbrook29]

45 for Sobbe 💜💜

Hi! 

based on dialogue prompts

45. Don’t tempt me

"Wakey wakey."

"G'way."

He burrows deeper into the sheets so that intrusive light from the huge window on the other side of the room doesn’t reach his bloodshot eyes. The duvet feels so heavenly on his tired body; it’s so toasty warm and cozy that Robbe sends a silent thank you to Sander’s mom for splurging on this comforter that he’s sure has some kind of magical properties.

“Are we being a whiny baby?”

“Fuck’ff.”

A laughter booms behind his back and in normal circumstances it’s Robbe’s favorite sound, but right now its frequency makes Robbe’s head pound horribly and he wants to crawl out of his skin. He goes to put the cover over his head but the odor of alcohol pouring out of his pores hits him so strong his stomach turns unpleasantly so he just groans pathetically, pushing his face into the pillow to shut off the outside world.

He feels a featherlight kiss on his shoulder and it tickles a little but it also fills his stomach with the best kind of fuzzy feelings so the corners of his lips lift a little, helping with the pouting.

There’s a warm puff of air against his neck and then the bed starts shaking a little with giggling.

“Wow, you smell like a brewery floor.”

Robbe wants to elbow the asshole lying next to him but it would require way too much effort for the state he’s currently in so he just lifts his hand and flips him off which makes him laugh harder.

“Were you always such a sweet talker?” The words are a bit slurred but Sander gets the message anyway because right after that there is another bunch of kisses placed along the exposed part of his upper body.

“For you, always.” He finally reaches his nape, dragging his lips along his hairline and leaving open mouthed kisses to the juncture of his neck, goosebumps erupting all over Robbe’s bare arms.

Sander’s lips feel like a balm against his skin, so nice and soft that his splitting headache eases out a bit as he relaxes under his touch. It’s lulling him to sleep, and he’s drifting between a dream and reality, eyelids becoming heavier and heavier, body on its way to doze off when Sander pulls back making him let out a whine at the loss of contact.

“Come baaack.” He reaches blindly to draw him back but his fingers are only met with air and he pouts. The sudden movement makes his stomach roll and he gulps trying to assess whether he needs to find a toilet asap or if he can maybe stay in bed to die peacefully from alcohol poisoning.

Ugh, he’s never drinking again.

“Baby, we need to get some water into you, come on, up and at ‘em.”

Sander must’ve developed a wish to be puked on over night because he rolls him on his back like Robbe’s insides aren’t trying to get out.

He glares at him but it doesn’t seem to be very intimidating if Sander’s laughing face is anything to go by.

“What.”

“Nothing.”

Robbe rolls his eyes. “Oh my god what is it?”

“You look like an angry chicken with that crazy hair you have going on.” 

He brushes his fingers through Robbe’s strands in an attempt to tame it a little, snorting under his breath when Robbe continues to shoot daggers at him.

“Keep those insults up and you’re gonna have to get reacquainted with your right hand for a month,” Robbe threatens half-heartedly, voice croaking from the lack of use and his drunken rendition of “Dancing Queen” with Aaron last night (and, oh god, he hopes Sander doesn’t remember that small detail because if he does, he’s going to tease him mercilessly til the day they die).

Sander knows him better than to take his threat for anything but an empty promise so he just leans in, his nose nudging Robbe’s as he whispers sweetly, batting his eyelashes.

“I never said you were an ugly angry chicken though. You’re still the cutest.” He pecks his nose and Robbe’s a sucker for him and his stupid compliments so it’s enough to make him melt. He bites his lip and smiles bashfully under Sander’s loving gaze, giving in to the urge to press their lips together in a good morning kiss.

So he throws his arms around his neck to pull him closer and kisses a line down his jaw to his throat first, reveling in the feeling of stubble under his lips, its roughness always reminding Robbe that he’s kissing a man, heat pooling in his stomach so easily with the morning, with Sander hovering over him and letting out appreciative sighs at his caresses. 

He’s beginning to think they might take things further and he’s already looking forward to the release of tension in his still aching head that’s definitely going to come with a bliss of orgasm. But when he finally locks their lips together, Sander retreats after merely 5 seconds with a scrunched up face, apology mixed with mirth in his eyes.

“Baby, I love you, but your breath is lethal.” He places a placating kiss on his forehead instead and then puts some distance between them as if to emphasize his point.

Robbe blinks up at him, staring jaw-dropped and trying to make sense of Sander’s words and when it finally hits him he pushes at his face with a wail.

“Ugh, I hate you so much.”

He turns his back on him again and Sander bursts into laughter at his dramatics. 

“Come on, let’s get you into the shower and once you’re minty fresh again you can have all the kisses you want,” he croons, trying to get Robbe to move out of bed on his own.

“Stop sucking up, you’re officially on my black list today,” is Robbe’s only response, his pout back and firmly in place at this shameless display of cheekiness from his boyfriend. “I’m not moving so either I’m staying here or you’re gonna have to carry me to the bathroom yourself, jerk,” he mumbles, scoffing and shrugging at Sander’s fingers scratching at his back just the way he likes in an attempt to appease him. Robbe tries as hard as he can not to let him know that it works.

“Oh don’t tempt me cause I will.”

He decides to ignore him and go back to sleep, hopefully waking up a bit more alive. After a bit of snuffling and squirming against the mattress, he finds a comfortable position and is on the verge of falling back asleep. But then, without a warning, he’s being swooped up from the bed and thrown over Sander’s shoulder as he marches them over to his adjacent bathroom. Once Robbe gets over the shock, he starts smacking his boxer-clad butt in revenge, wanting to be put back down but his feet only touch the ground when Sander reaches his destination, and the smirk on his face makes Robbe roll his eyes.

“You’re proud of yourself?”

“Very much, yes.”

He hands him a bottle of water and a toothbrush and turns the faucet on to start a bath before starting on the brushing himself. He’s looking at Robbe in the mirror expectantly and Robbe considers for a second to be childish about it. 

He’s really thirsty though, he realizes, so he opens the bottle and chugs it all at once ignoring Sander’s triumphant face. Then, he reluctantly joins him at the sink, snatching the offered toothbrush out of his fingers and getting rid of the admittedly dreadful taste in his mouth.

The bathroom is getting steamy from the hot water that’s still pouring into the tub so once Sander is done with his morning routine, he turns it off, pulls his underwear off and swiftly sinks into the water. He rests his head against the rim of the tub and starts making grabby motions at Robbe who is now stubbornly propped against the sink, watching him with a bemused expression.

“Come on, you’re gonna feel much better afterwards,” Sander promises, pushing up a little to make space for him. 

It’s probably very true but Robbe can’t just let him off the hook that easy so he crosses his arms, cocks his eyebrow and purses his lips expectantly.

Sander pushes his tongue in his cheek at that, smiling a little at the indignance on Robbe’s face. Then, he lifts his hands in surrender.

“I’m sorry.”

“For?”

“For being unacceptably rude to my precious boyfriend.”

Robbe can see that Sander is barely keeping it together, biting his lips to keep the laughter that threatens to sneak out inside but he feels satisfied with the answer anyway.

“That’s right,” he says loftily, putting on a serious face for a second but then letting go of all pretense, shaking his boxer briefs off and gingerly getting into the tub himself, hissing at the almost boiling-hot water. 

Sander pulls him to his chest without waiting for him to get properly in, wrapping his arms around him and kissing the corner of his mouth, eagerly licking into his mouth in no time.

“I still think you have some apologizing left to do by the way,” Robbe informs him once they separate and he’s made himself comfortable in Sander’s arms. “I’m expecting a greasy breakfast after this. And then maybe a back massage.” He sighs dreamily. “Oh yes, a massage sounds amazing right now.”

Sander snorts from where he’s mouthing at his neck. “Anything else princess?”

He jabs him in the ribs at that but then he settles down again amidst Sander’s exaggerated cries of pain. “I’ll think about it.”

#wtfock

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

Hello there! I've been reading your content and it's SO GOOD so since your requests are open I wonder if I can ask for headcanons, F!MC with Leona, like they have a relationship and Leona wants to introduce MC to his family buuuuuut MC is not sure if they're going to accept someone than cannot use magic and more if she's a human! Thank you so much!!

Thank you. I’m glad to hear that you enjoy my content.

I kind of flipped the opinions of Leona and the fem!MC around in this request because I felt it was more fitting for their characters. I hope that is alright with you, Anon.

P.S. You bet that I’m gonna to use this request as an excuse to write Cheka and Leona Ojitan moments. Cue Kingscholar family shenanigans.

***Warning: spoilers ahead for chapter 2 of the main story campaign.***

Curiouser and Curiouser...

“I want to meet your family, Leona!”

You and Leona had had multiple intense conversations about meeting his family. It was impossible for him to meet your family, so you were eager to meet his (”Cheka is adorable! Can I meet the rest of the Kingscholars?”) and maybe even explore his home country.

Leona was very, VERY against the idea at first. He reminded you that he is not well-liked within his kingdom and that, as a result, people will dislike you as well. He warned you they would look down on you just from associating with him, and that they will hate you for not being royalty, for not being able to use magic, for being human...for many, many things.

You eventually wore him down by constantly asking and begging and using your puppy dog eyes (although Leona claims he relented because he found you to be annoying).

So you pack your bags and journey to the Afterglow Savannah during the summer break. (Leona told his brother in advance to keep the welcome back low key or he would turn his tail the other way and leave; he doesn’t want the attention of the citizens on you.)

Meeting the Kingscholars

Cheka nyooms to the door and glomps his ojitan the very second he comes home. (”Hehe, Ojitan’s baaack~” “Oi, oi, get off of me, furball!”)

Cheka is excited to see you too! He hugs your leg and everything--he even lets you pick him up and spin him around.

After unpacking your things, you met Leona’s brother/the current king, Farena, and his wife, the queen.

Farena is very different from Leona! You can see where Cheka got his coloration and cheer from. Farena is warm and friendly and eagerly welcomes you into his home (later, he pulls Leona aside and gives him “the talk” in private, much to Leona’s annoyance).

Leona glares at his brother when he gets too animated or handsy with you (Farena talks with his hands, sometimes putting a hand on your shoulder to guide you around the house). His brother has already taken the throne from him, so he’s very possessive of you.

Leona makes sure to be by your side or have his arm wrapped around your shoulder whenever he can, just to emphasize that you are his, and no one else’s.

Farena tells you embarrassing stories about Leona’s youth. Many stories. (Like that one time Leona ate a poisonous grub on a dare and had a stomachache for three whole days...)

Farena’s wife is very gentle and soft spoken, but she has a presence befitting that of a queen and seems wise. She insisted on cooking for you rather than have the servants do it during your visit.

Cheka plays with you so much! (You manage to convince Leona to join you too.) He wakes up his Ojitan every morning by pouncing on him while he’s still asleep--it’s kind of funny to watch, really.

Cheka also practices his roar in the bathroom mirror every morning while rushing his teeth. So cute~

Farena makes Leona spit up his food at the dinner table when he asks “So, when can we be expecting a new playmate for Cheka?”

The Servants of the Manor

Besides Cheka’s parents, you also meet the head steward to the Kingscholar family: a stern looking man with a big nose, dressed in a fancy blue uniform. He does not give his name--he just kind of sniffs at you and respectfully cleans up after you and Leona as Farena asked.

He does not seem to think highly of you, or of Leona. When the steward is not tidying up for you, he is babysitting Cheka.

Leona tells you to ignore the rude head steward, this kind of treatment from servants is to be expected for anything they know is associated with the second born son.

Back to Night Raven College

Overall, your trip was relatively pleasant, save for a few withering gazes the servants throw your way when they think you aren’t looking.

You’re uncertain if you want to go again, given how uncomfortable the servants made you feel--but the Kingscholars themselves were a very nice family!

You realize Leona probably made the right call by telling his brother to not announce your arrival with fanfare. Perhaps you should steel yourself for the next visit.

Leona seems particularly clingy after the visit, refusing to let go of you when he naps and growling at other students when they get near you. I guess he feels even more protective now since he saw how fast Farena warmed up to you...

#self insert #Leona Kingscholar #Reader #Reader x Leona Kingscholar #Leona Kingscholar x Reader #twst #twisted wonderland #disney twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland requests #twisted wonderland headcanons #twisted wonderland imagines #twisted wonderland scenarios #Farena Kingscholar #Cheka Kingscholar #curiouser and curiouser #Falena Kingscholar

[whatthehellisastilesimagine]

Once Upon A Dream: A Stiles Stilinski Imagine

Request from Anon: Hey, wanted to request a Stiles x reader, where they’ve been dating for a while and although she never wants to admit it, the reader secretly wants that Disney moment with the beautiful dress and romantic dance. So Stiles, being the amazing boyfriend he is, decides to give her that. Also wanted to say I love your writing and you don’t need to feel any rush writing this. Take all the time you need. :)

I’m baaack! Well, sort of. Updates aren’t going to be as regular as they were back before my hiatus but at least requests are back open. Thank you guys so much for being amazing during my time off; I love all of you so much! Anyway, sorry that this has taken so long whoever requested it, and I hope it’s okay for you lovely. Enjoy x 

It was coming up to Y/N’s birthday, and Stiles decided he needed to do something amazing for it. It was the first one they would celebrate together as a couple, as friends who had fallen in love, who felt so much more comfortable around each other holding hands, fingers intertwined, kisses planted on their knuckles, than they ever did apologising awkwardly when one arm brushed against the other.

It was coming up to Y/N’s birthday and Stiles wanted it to be everything she had ever dreamed of and more.

And so, when she climbed into the jeep after school the week before, he made sure to ask her just what she wanted.

“Oh, I’m not really bothered,” there was a blush in her cheeks that Stiles wanted to kiss away, taking her insecurities with him. They had been together for over six months now, and even though Stiles told her often enough that he loved her, that he’d do anything for her, that all she had to was ask if she wanted something, there was still that flicker of doubt in her mind, a bud threatening to bloom into a rose; beautiful but thorny, fear that maybe she didn’t deserve him, that she would lose him, liable to spread.

“Well, you must want something,” Stiles tucked a stray hair behind her ear, fingers lingering on her skin, a smile playing on his lips. He could practically see the words ready to leap off her tongue, hoping desperately that she would let them take the jump that they needed into his ears, laying the foundations for the perfect birthday.

“Honestly, Stiles. It’s fine,” Y/N kissed his cheek, and before Stiles could argue some more, she was fiddling with the car radio, finally landing on a song she liked. Stiles shook his head in exasperation, figuring that he would have to come up with some other way to find out just what to do for the birthday of the girl he loved, the girl he would always love.

He was just about to start the car when Lydia Martin walked past. She waved at the two of them, red hair bouncing with every step, and when she came over, reminding Y/N about the English project that was due in two days’ time, that was when it hit Stiles. Lydia was Y/N’s best friend since Stiles had been promoted to her boyfriend, and the two told each other everything.

Later that night, when he was pretty sure Y/N was asleep, her head on his chest, he texted Lydia, asking for ideas.

The reply was better than anything he could have come up with.

A week passed, one that was filled with planning, shopping, and preparations for the big night. Stiles spent the day with Y/N, coming over to her house with more gifts than he was sure she had ever expected, that familiar blush rising to her cheeks. He took her out for lunch, making sure to kiss her at least once every half hour, skin touching, breath mingling, either never wanting to let go.

But there was still one gift left to give her, and when they arrived at Beacon Hills High School on a weekend, Y/N looked at him with a confused expression.

“Why are we here?”

Stiles reached over into the backseat, and pulled a long white box out from underneath the seats. He handed it to Y/N who looked up at him with big, beautiful eyes.

“It’s your size, trust me, I checked everything. Put it on in the girls’ changing room and then meet me in the hall.”

He gave her a quick kiss on the lips before jumping out of the jeep, heading into the school, leaving Y/N bewildered beyond belief.

Only twenty minutes passed before he saw her again. Only twenty minutes passed before Y/N took his breath away, before she left Stiles Stilinski speechless.

The dress fit perfectly, hugging her in all the right places, flowing around her as she walked towards him. But the best thing about it all was her face, her lips slightly parted as she took in the hall around her, the lights, the music, Stiles in a suit.

It was like something out of a Disney movie, and she told him as much.

“That was kind of the plan.”

Stiles held out his hand, and Y/N slipped hers into it, allowing him to take the lead as his hand rested on the small of her back. Neither really knew how to dance, not properly, but neither cared, not in this moment, not as Y/N lived a dream that was slowly becoming Stiles’ too.

Because if Y/N was there, than surely it had to be a dream, the most perfect dream that anyone could ever imagine.

Stiles made a mental note to thank Lydia for telling him about Y/N’s secret dream, for telling him that she had wanted one of these moments forever.

And as Y/N kissed him with just about as much love as anyone could ever muster, he only hoped that this would last forever.

That Y/N would stay by his side and love him for just as long.

For he certainly would love her.

Masterlist

#teen wolf #teen wolf imagines #teen wolf imagine #stiles stilinski #stiles stilinski imagines #stiles stilinski imagine #stiles stilinski x reader #mieczyslaw stilinski #dylan o'brien

[dajaregambler]

AAside - Gyroaxia Band story - Chapter 4 (full)

Translation of Gyroaxia’s band story from the game ‘Argonavis from Bang Dream! AAside’.

This post contains all parts belonging to Chapter 4.

(Recommendation to read this along the ingame band story, since it’s all fully voiced!)

Part one - “Joint declaration”

-----At GYROAXIA’s sharehouse

Reon: Kenta-san, have you seen this?

Kenta: What?

Reon: How members of Fantôme Iris are dissing us, and that from there fans started to fight each other…

Miyuki: I saw it too. Like, how Fantôme’s comments started it all, although I’m suspicious if they actually did say that

Reon: I was thinking so too but….

Reon: On the contrary, our fans went out to get revenge after Fantôme’s live had ended…

Kenta: I’m aware of it. I had shrugged it off as baseless rumors that would disappear on their own soon.

Kenta: And then it turned out to be a bigger commotion than I had expected it to.

Miyuki: What’re we gonna do? Are we gonna leave it be or

Kenta: The leader of Fantôme shall be coming here tonight. I intend to discuss what we should do about it.

Miyuki: Haha, always first on the move ain’tcha now

Reon: It’d be good if it didn’t influence the voting for the starting live, but…. today they’ll be announcing the results, right

Kenta: What now, are you not confident?

Reon: That’s not….

Miyuki: Well, I’m not worried about our ranking, it just doesn’t feel too good thinking how these strange rumors still out there

Kenta: I’ll be taking care of it. Leave it up to me

Miyuki: Yeah, yeah. Please do so, Kenta-sensei

-

----A few hours later

Felix: ---Then, I shall be taking care of the draft for the statement. Could you verify it for me once I had sent it after returning home as soon as possible?

Kenta: I’m sorry for the inconvenience. I’ll respond as soon as possible.

Felix: I could say the same. Ah… that reminds me, I had forgotten to mention something

Kenta: What may it be?

Felix: Congratulations on reaching first place at the starting live. It’s still an amazing accomplishment, even without the impact of the rumors.

Kenta: Thank you very much. However, I believe that you are not intending to leave things as they are now, right?

Felix: Why of course. We may have ended up last now, but one could say it was a mere warm up for next time.

Felix: It ought to not take long before we get tired of staring down on your backs.

Kenta: …..GYROAXIA will not lose.

Felix: I see… fufu. Now then, I suppose it’s time to---

(Door opening)

Nayuta: Any coffee

Nyankotarou: Nya~

Felix: Good evening, Nayuta. Pardon my intrustion. And hello to you too, you must be Nyankotarou

Nayuta: …..A guest, eh

Kenta: You seem to be well informed, to the point of knowing his cat’s name. 

Felix: Only because I have checked the official blog of your band. A fan ought to know this much, or am I wrong?

Kenta: Haha

Felix: Now, I shall be taking my leave. I would love to sit down and have a nice chat with you when possible, Nayuta

Nayuta: ………

Felix: À bientôt. And to you too, Nyankotarou

Nyankotarou: Nya~

-

Nayuta: …..What did you talk about

Kenta: I had consulted him about what we should do about these baseless rumors. Nothing that should concern you.

Nayuta: ‘Kay

Kenta: Ah, right there is coffee. I’ll go make some right now

Kenta: (Even though I’m doing everything I can to not distract Nayuta with any unnecessary trouble, it has to blow over as soon as it can.)

Kenta: (If... this would put an end to it, though...)

Part two - “Joint interview”

-----At an office

Miyuki: Soft and fluffy chairs, some way too delicious coffee…. at last, the kind of treatment we deserve

Nayuta: ….Oi, Sakaigawa

Miyuki: Mh? What’s up, Nayuta?

Nayuta: It’s time. Let’s leave

Miyuki: Eh? I mean sure it’s been a while since it was supposed to start but… wouldn’t it be good to wait for a bit at least!

Nayuta: Tch….

Miyuki: The management of the Fes had set this interview up for us too. Hold it out just for a bit, okay!

Miyuki: Handling advertising is also an important part for the Fes, didn’t Kenta say so too?

Nayuta: Where is he

Miyuki: He said he suddenly had a meeting to attend and is at the office now

Nayuta: ………

Miyuki: I’ll contact the person in charge too, c’mon sit down!

Interviewer: Excuse me. My sincerest apologies for being late!

Shu: So sorry for bein’ late. Was busy with school an’ all that 

Reiji: Forgive us for making you wait.

Miyuki: Eh? You guys are Epsi’s….

Nayuta: ….What’s the meaning of this

Miyuki: Wasn’t it supposed to be Nayuta’s interview today or...

Interview: Huh? Have we not informed you about it? That it’s a joint interview with the frontmen of the participating bands...

Shu: Aah, that’s ‘cuz I asked to not let ‘em know. Wanted to get a good scare outta ‘em!

Nayuta: ….We gotta leave

Miyuki: Heey hey now! This kinda interview isn’t too bad, is it! And it’s not like you speak a lot on your own to begin with!

Reiji: My deepest apologies for spoiling the mood. Ujigawa has a tendency to enjoy pulling suck pranks...

Shu: Aw c’mon, stop talkin’ as if I’m some lil’ kid

Interviewer: We are very sorry for the lack of communication on our part! I promise it will not take too long, so please….!

Nayuta: ………

-

Interviewer: ----Now then, could you tell us what you think of each other’s bands?

Nayuta: Got nothing

Shu: Eeeh, that’s makin’ me sad. I’mma big fan of Gyro! Nayuta-san’s vocals are a given, but the rest of the band---

Miyuki: Wonder if it’s okay for Nayuta to act like that….

Reiji: Isn’t it more exciting to have an interview with a feeling of tension in the air

Reiji: It’s quite interesting, like Asahi-san himself

Miyuki: Haha… A relief to hear that then

Reiji: ….Speaking of which, that secret live from the other day was exciting too wasn’t it

Reiji: Somehow to the point of Asahi-san collapsing from singing too much….

Miyuki: Hm, aah… that. Yeah, Nayuta just went a bit overboard with giving his all

Reiji: Is his physical condition stable?

Miyuki: All good, good! Not a big deal at all!

Reiji: Then that is fine…. The vocalist collapsing must be undeniably troublesome for the members too.

Miyuki: Well… honestly, what came after that was more troubling than him collapsing

Reiji: Had something happened?

Miyuki: Nah well, it was more silly if anything you know, like a whole coup d’état was being staged! 

Reiji: Coup d'état…. Haha, that does indeed sound quite funny.

Reiji: If you don’t mind, could you tell me more about it?

Part three - “Stand and talk”

Miyuki: ---And with that, the whole coup fell apart. And one way or the other we all got back together again.

Miyuki: See? Told you it was silly, right?

Reiji: ….It’s necessary for the surprise attack to land its mark, if one wants a coup to succeed.

Reiji: For that moment, you have to bow down to those in power and patiently await your turn to strike...

Miyuki: Uum… What’s that about?

Reiji: ….History that I had learned in class about.

Reiji: Either way, thank you very much for talking with me.

Reiji: We’re respectively having our own fair share of issues due the nature of our frontmen, however we shall be doing our best for the Fes going on forward.

Miyuki: Seriously mature for your age, aren’t you….

Nayuta: Let’s leave, Sakaigawa

Miyuki: Sorry, sorry. Got caught up in talking. So, how did that interview go? 

Nayuki: Dunno. You’ll see tomorrow when we get back

Shu: Nayuta-san, good work. Was plenty of fun to talk with you!

Reiji: Thank you for your time too, Sakaigawa-san. I wish you good luck at the live tommorrow.

Miyuki: Ah, hold on Nayuta! Sorry for this, we’ll sit down to talk again some other time

Reiji: ….How did it go with him?

Shu: Wasn’t fun at all. That mister wouldn’ react at all despite pushin’ his buttons

Shu: Anyway, you seem to have heard somethin’ interesting?

Reiji: Yes. Exactly the kind of thing you enjoy.

Reiji: I’ll go collect evidence from the livehouse and hospital at once. I’ll be able to have it done in a few hours.

-

-----At GYROAXIA’s sharehouse

Ryo: Ah, Miyuki-kun and Nayuta, welcome baaack

Kenta: Welcome back, good work today

Miyuki: Huh, you got back too?

Kenta: Yes, it was a simple meeting. More importantly, how did the interview go?

Miyuki: It was… the whole thing turned out different than expected. Nayuta had to do a joint interview with Epsi’s Ujigawa-kun

Kenta: With Ujigawa Shu.... Was there anything strange that happened? 

Miyuki: Nah? It went pretty smoothly, right Nayuta?

Nayuta: Don’t remember. Don’t care

Kenta: Then, that’s fine….

(Door opening)

Reon: Ah, Kenta-san! Did you check online!?

Kenta: What is it, have fans started arguing again?

Miyuki: We commented on it, shouldn’t it have calmed down?

Reon: Not that! Look, it’s about this!

Miyuki: Uuum… “GYROAXIA’s vocalist, Nayuta Asahi has been spotted at the hospital! Troubles arise regarding the continuation of the band”---- 

Ryo: “Which leads to tension between the band members! Are they on the verge of breaking up with LR Fes right around the corner!?”

Miyuki: ...What, what the hell!? Where did all of this come from?

Kenta: I had assumed the possibility about hospital-related rumors spreading but…. not that it would reach about the state of the band itself.

Reon: It’s strange right! And way too detailed! To the point of a coup being mentioned!

Nayuta: ….What’s the meaning of this?

Kenta: I can only think it was one of us that had leaked it. But, how…. doesn’t anyone here remember this?

Miyuki: Think about it, going out of your way to talk about th--

Reiji: If you don’t mind, could you tell me more about it?

Miyuki: ….Eh? Don’t tell me….him!?

Kenta: Is there something you know, Miyuki

Miyuki: ……..Shit! Sure did it this time!!

Part four - “Reiji’s strategy”

Miyuki: While… Nayuta was doing the interview, I had talked to Epsi’s drummer…

Kenta: The drummer…. Karasuma Reiji

Miyuki: But, we didn’t talk too long ago, and I didn’t say anything about Nayuta’s asthma either!?

Kenta: There was more than enough time to spread rumors online about it.

Reon: It’s about an illness, and with how he collapsed at a live, you can make up as much as you want about it….

Kenta: ….There were a lot of awful rumors about Epsi when they were in Kyoto. How they’ll do anything to crush whoever piques their interest, and the like

Kenta: Which makes me suspect that they’re the ones behind our trouble with Fantôme.

Ryo: Why…. why would they do such things?

Kenta: To cut down the amount of rivals for the Fes…. I wouldn’t know for any other reason why.

Reon: Still, to go like that about it… it’s way too foul!

Kenta: They’re still middle and highschool students, but have plenty of funds and human connections to make use of.

Kenta: An example of what happens when a child who doesn’t know any better becomes drunk on power, I suppose

Nayuta: ……….

Miyuki: Goddamnit….!!

Reon: What do we do? Make another statement?

Kenta: Compared to last time, these rumors aren’t completely baseless. Any wrong moves will increase our amount of problems….

Miyuki: I’m sorry, everyone…. All because I just can’t keep my mouth shut….

Kenta: Apologies are for later. We need to focus on what to do about this right now...

Nayuta: Ain’t gonna do a thing

Miyuki: ...Eh?

Nayuta: We’re gonna rehearse. Get ready

Reon: Is it really fine to just leave it at that!?

Nayuta: Don’t give enough of a fuck to play around with some shitty brat

Kenta: Still… will the fans agree to it?

Nayuta: As if I know

Reon: “As if” you say….

Ryo: Then… wouldn’t it be better to admit to everything?

Miyuki: …..Eeeeh!?

Ryo: Let’s admit it at the beginning of the live. About Nayuta’s illness, and our coup d’état too

Kenta: …..Isn’t that asking to invite even more chaos?

Ryo: It’ll be all good!

Reon: How even

Ryo: ‘Cuz we’ll be doing a live right after it?

Ryo: Once our live starts, everyone’s worries will fly right out of the window and they’ll become happy!

Miyuki: What’s with that…

Kenta: ….I see

Reon: You’re agreeing with him!?

Kenta: Because… it might be a chance to demonstrate our power. Rumors and facts, GYROAXIA’s music will bring it all to the ground

Kenta: If it goes smoothly, we’d be back on track for the Fes...

Nayuta: ……..

Miyuki: Nayuta, I’m sorry…. It’s my fault that your fans came to know about your illness…..

Miyuki: But, it’s as Ryo and Kenta said… If it’s with you…. with our performance, everything will be blown away

Nayuta: Cut it out with the whining….

Reon: You’re so….!

Nayuta: I’m only gonna sing

Part five - “What about it?”

----At the livehouse

Gyro fan A: Hey, did you see it? Those rumors online. Like, “Gyro in a crisis of disbanding” and all… 

Gyro fan B: Isn’t that fake? And, Nayuta’s illness….

Gyro fan A: Yeah but… there’s also how Nayuta collapsed during the last song at this secret live the other day, right?

Gyro fan B: Yeah… and it does seem that the members often fight too….

Nayuta: …...Listen

Gyro fan A: Eh…. He’s gonna talk? Isn’t this unusual!?

Nayuta: Everything online, those shitty rumors--- All of it is true

Nayuta: I have a respiratory disease. There’s guys that started going on about quitting

Nayuta: But… what about it?

Nayuta: Even if I fall, I’ll sing. Even on my own, I’ll sing.

Nayuta: As long as I live

Nayuta: …...GYROAXIA

-

Reon: (All you had to say or what… still… it really fired up everyone!)

Miyuki: (Amazing, eh… that it wasn’t “us” either.)

Ryo: (Yeah, this feels nice… everyone looks happy)

Kenta: (Go, Nayuta…. crush them….!)

-

Gyro fan A: GYROOO!!!

Gyro fan B: NAYUTAAA!!

Gyro fan A: Hey, is that illness part true!? He’s still going at full power during the encore!!

Gyro fan B: The instrumental part was amazing too! No way that they’re breaking up!

Ryo: Aah, how nice… this kind of atmosphere… it’s very happy….

Reon: Haah..haah.. alright! The best performance…. yes… yes!!

Miyuki: Fuuh... for real, he’s some kinda monster... the fact that he pulled off a live beyond flawless

Kenta: You did it, Nayuta…. Alright, time to wrap it up

Nayuta: …….

Kenta: Nayuta….?

Nayuta: Oi… dunno if you’re here… some damned guy that has the nerve to pull some shit---

Nayuta: Whatever you wanna do, don’t drag me in it

Nayuta: That shit won’t crush my music

Nayuta: Still, you’re an eyesore. Don’t get in my way a second time. And if you wanna keep going...

Nayuta: I’ll destroy you… at the Fes battle

Miyuki: Haha… As if he’s some pro-wrestler

Reon: He.. was considerably angry

Kenta: Really? Isn’t that---

Ryo: Yeah, it’s the Nayuta that we know

-

Gyro fan A: That was so awesome! But… what Nayuta said at the end there...

Gyro fan B: “I’ll destroy you at the Fes”.... does this mean that a participating band spread rumors?

Gyro fan A: Seriously… that’s straight up awful

Reiji: ………

Reiji: (Failure, huh… No, they turned the tables around….)

Reiji: (There’s many other bands that aren’t this straight-forward… Well, whether it succeeds or not, either is fine.)

Reiji: (As long as Shu has been entertained)

#aaside #gyroaxia #nayuta asahi #kenta satozuka #Miyuki Sakaigawa #Ryo Akebono #Reon Misono

[lonelyreputation]

The Optimist (Baker AU)

A/N: Hi! Hi! Baker!Shawn is here and as soft as ever! My mind is a bit scattered at the moment, but I can promise you it’s throughly edited!! Anyway…How is everyone doing?! I hope you had an enjoyable weekend!! 

Annnnd thank you for 100 followers! I've only returned to writing a couple of months ago, so thank you!!! You all are too kind and sweet :’) I have a lot of things written in my docs that just need some editing––so stay tuuunneed  

THANKS A MILLION for all of your support! Your kind words are music to my ears and really encourage me to write more!! Reblogs are never expected, but always appreciated!! 😌💞🌻 

REQUEST/PROMPT: Night wind carrying the scent of freshly baked bread 

Let’s Chat!! | MASTERLIST

Warnings: none :) 

Word Count: 3.6K

You leaned your back against the brick wall, resting your head against the cold brick as you looked up at the stars twinkling in the sky.  Seven minutes, I’ll give you seven minutes, your manager had said to you after you begged to have a little bit of a break after you had just finished serving a rude table.

In through your nose––don’t cry–––Out through your mouth.

You hated waiting tables.  You hated having to plaster on a fake smile at every table.  And you hated having to walk with an extra pep in your step when you were on your feet for four hours.  Most people you waited on were generally pleasant, but there would always be a table or two during a shift that would be act absolutely monstrous.

You pinched your eyes shut––don’t cry––as a soft breeze made its way down the little alley way you had escaped to.  You were sure that at least four minutes of your little break had passed and you dreaded having to walk back in with a sickeningly sweet smile on your face.

“Are you alright?”

You opened your eyes and turned your head to the right.  Standing inside the doorway of the building behind yours was a tall boy with curly brown hair.  He was wearing all white, but the apron tied around his front was stained with various shades of tan, and like the swipe of flour he had on his cheek, his apron was also dotted with spurts of flour.  He smelled of burnt sugar.

“Yeah, I’m––“ you sniffled as you brought the sleeve of your forearm to wipe under your nose, “I’m fine!  Don’t worry.” You had put on your well-trained fake smile in front of the boy.

He wrung out the white towel he held between his hands, he didn’t look convinced, “I tried walking back in, but then I thought you were gonna cry so I came back out.”

An awkward silence filled the air around you as you continued to study him.  He looked unsure of himself.  He seemed as if he wanted to help, but had no idea as to how to help you.  

“You work at The Optimist?” You recalled the name of the bakery that was located behind the restaurant you worked at.

He nodded his head with a genuine smile, “Yeah––I’m Shawn, by the way,” he took a few steps forward, crossing over from the bakery’s domain of the alley way onto the restaurant’s side and stuck out his hand for you to shake.

Scrunching up your eyebrows you hesitantly reached your hand out to connect with his.  He looked to be around your age, early twenty’s, and you didn’t know the last time you had shaken hands with someone your age when introduced.

Shawn dropped your hand, “And you work at The Sunflower?” 

You grimaced and Shawn took notice; his smile dropping into one of a sympathy.  You were about to introduce yourself, but one of your fellow waitresses skidded out the back door with wild eyes.  

“Y/n,” she sounded like she was relieved to have found you, but her tone was urgent and her eyes held terror, “You were supposed to be back two minutes ago, Diane is going insane looking for you.”

At the warning your friend gave you, your eyes doubled in size as you quickly tightened your pony tail––that no doubt had tiny strands flying about that didn’t make it into the hair tie––and bid the baker a quick farewell, “It was nice talking to you, Shawn.”

“Nice meeting you, Y/n.”

You didn’t get to see him as you quickly rounded the corner and rushed back inside before your manager, Diane, laid into you for taking a longer than necessary break.  

•••

Two days later, you found yourself back in the alley way.  And this time instead of begging for a break, you were allowed a whole hour to yourself since you were working a double shift.  You spent the first thirty minutes eating a dinner you brought for yourself, the next fifteen minutes sitting and staring at a wall, and then something in the back of your mind kept nagging you to head to the alley way.

The alley way smelled sweeter than the last time you were here.  The back door to The Optimist bakery was propped open and you were able to smell the aroma coming from inside.  You took a deep breath, hypnotized by the scent of yeast, and let it out only to take another deep breath in.

The smell was stronger than before, hot baked bread must’ve come right out of the oven, you thought.  It reminded you of your grandmother’s house where she was constantly baking loaves sourdough; warmth, comfort, and full of love. 

You caught a whiff of rosemary and closed your eyes in satisfaction.  Whatever bread they were baking in there was full of herbs that flowed out into the street.  If Heaven was on Earth, it would be in this alley way; just you savoring your time alone as the smell of bread breezed out into the night.

“Y/n?”

You opened your eyes to see Shawn standing in the doorway, wearing a concerned face much like the one he wore two days prior when you first met.

“Shawn, hey,” You greeted him with a genuine smile.

He returned his smile as his eyes lit up; he noticed your mood was considerably better than when you first met, “How are you?”

“Really good,” he tilted his head and squinted his eyes at you silently asking you if that was a real honest answer.  You let out a sigh and rubbed your hands over your eyes, “Kinda tired, I’m working a double today but I’m on a break now.”

“You seem better than a few nights ago,” he picked his next words carefully, “Are you feeling better?”

“I don’t want to bore you–––“

Shawn shook his head with a soft smile.  He sat down on the curb and patted the spot next to him for you, “Tell me all about it.”

You crossed over from the restaurant side to the bakery and sat close to your new friend.  You were only sitting about an inch away and you were able to catch a sniff of the sweet smell of the bakery from his apron, “Just some people being rude, it happens a lot so I’m used to it, but like when they start to question my capabilities? And talk about me when I’m serving their food as if I’m not there?” You sniffled as the memory of the dad of the family made a passing comment to his kids how if you don’t have any aspirations in life, you’ll end up like her replayed over and over.

“Hey,” Shawn curled an arm around your shoulder and pulled you in close to his side, “Some people are jerks, it sucks, but you’re a better person than they are,” his hands started to rub up and down your arm in a comforting manner, “Because it would never even cross your mind to disrespect someone right in front of you, and that says a lot about your character.”

You took a chance and leaned your head on his shoulder, “I think everyone should have to wait tables at some point in their life,” you sniffled out a laugh.

“That,” Shawn agreed with you, “or work in retail.”

You let out another laugh in agreement and the two of you stayed snuggled up next to each other.  Shawn continued to rub a comforting hand along your arm, pulling you closer into his side, and it was almost as if your head fit into his shoulder like a puzzle piece.  Shawn knocked your knees together which caused you to let out a giggle and a small smile.

“What time are you done?” He questioned.

You scrunched up your eyebrows and bit the inside of your cheek, thinking about his question, “Around eleven or eleven thirty? Depending what time the last table leaves and we have everything stocked up for the morning shift,” you lifted your head off his shoulder, already missing the close contact with him, looking into his eyes, “Why?”

He wore mischievous smirk, “Do you want a loaf of bread?”

“What?”

Shawn leaned his head back as he laughed at your confused face; eyebrows tightly pulled together with your eyes slightly widened.  He squeezed your shoulder tight, “I uh––I get a free loaf every shift, and I––Do you want it?”

“You don’t want it?” You questioned him, not knowing why any twenty-something year old would pass up the opportunity of free food, “You don’t have like a family to feed or anything?”

He shook his head, a long curl falling covered in flour fell out of place and dropped in front of his forehead, “I’m twenty-one, so I don’t have a family––or anyone––to share a loaf of bread with.”

He tacked on that he didn’t have anyone in a rushed tone, almost scared that if he didn’t get that part in, you would assume that there was someone else he would rather share his bread with.

“What bread did you just make?” If he was offering up his shift loaf of bread, you desperately wanted it to be the sweet herbal bread you had the pleasure of smelling all through out the night.

Shawn nodded his head with a smile, “Focaccia,” he said it as if he was reminiscing his favorite memory, “I’ll have a loaf of that out at eleven thirty.”

Before you could say anything else, your phone alarm rang, notifying you that you had to get back to work.  You let out a soft groan and rested your head back on Shawn’s shoulder, eyes closed, “I don’t wanna go baaack.”

“C’mon working girl,” he squeezed your shoulder one last time before pushing off the curb and reaching a hand out to you, “The sooner you’re back at work the sooner you can get your bread.”

You reached out and took his hand; it felt different than when you first connected hands in a handshake when you first met.  His fingers curled around your hand with care, his calloused hands from kneading dough were surprisingly comforting, and they were warm.

“I expect to be given nothing less than the absolute best loaf.” You held onto his hand for a bit longer before dropping it and walking over to your side of the alley.

Shawn let out a hearty laugh, “They’re all the best loaf,” he shot you a wink, “because I bake them all.”

You felt a blush creeping up on your cheeks, but decided not to face Shawn; you didn’t want him to know the affect he had on you at only your second conversation.  You shouted a see you later tonight over your shoulder and walked back into work with not so much of a fake smile, an actual pep in your step, and a little bit of flour on your uniform shirt.

When your shift was over, you raced back down to the alley way, quickly saying your goodbyes to the kitchen staff, busboys, and fellow waiters.  You were out the back door in no time and were met with the sight of Shawn holding, what you assumed to be the focaccia bread, wrapped in brown paper tied together with twine.

He handed the loaf of bread to you as the two of you made small conversation, him offering to walk you to your car.  Wanting to spend as much time with him, you accepted his offer, as he asked you questions about your day.  Unfortunately the walk to your car wasn’t very far, so the conversation was cut short, but Shawn promised to have another loaf of bread for you tomorrow night.

Once you were in your car and saw Shawn walking in the direction from where you had just come from––I swear my car is parked around yours, let me walk you, it’s no big deal––you rolled your eyes at his blatant lie and placed the bread in your passenger seat.  But what you hadn’t noticed before was a little message written on the brown paper with black sharpie.

Let’s get this bread! Haha, but really, I made this loaf extra special just for you :)

•••

Every other night you had worked for the next few weeks ended in the alley way with Shawn delivering you a loaf of bread and walking you to your car at night.  You had come back to your apartment with loaves of rye, ciabatta, baguettes, and even a Portuguese sweet bread.  With every loaf of bread you brought home, your roommate raised an eyebrow, her interest peaking with your new fascination for carbohydrates.

It was your day off, and while you normally spent it lounging about or going for a walk, you decided to pay a visit to Shawn at The Optimist.  While you normally would avoid the area where you work on your days off, you found yourself excited to be there for once. 

You parked your car in front of the bakery and flipped down the mirror to make sure you had nothing in your teeth before walking in.  Once you were out of your car and locked the doors, you threw your keys into your canvas tote bag and walked toward the navy blue front doors.

With each step, your heart rate began to increase.  You told yourself to calm down, that it was only Shawn, but for some reason that only made you even more nervous.  Nervous, but excited to see him.

A little bell chimed when you walked in and a voice as sweet as the pastry selection smelled, greeted you, “Welcome to The Optimist!”  She looked to be about seventeen; her uniform had her name stitched in cursive on the left side of her black collared shirt, Amelia, “What can I get started for you?”

“Is uh––Is Shawn here?” It didn’t hit you until you were up at the counter that Shawn might also have the day off.

She seemed skeptical to give you any information about an employee, which was fair, working as a waitress you’ve had people come and ask if a specific person was working.  And it was company policy to not give that information out.

You didn’t know if it helped your case, but you started explaining how you knew him, “I work at the restaurant behind you guys and I’ve struck up a friendship with him and I wanted to see if he was at work–––“

“Oh,” Amelia’s eyes widened as a smile blew up on her face, “You’re the girl he brings bread to.”

You felt your cheeks get hot, “Uh…Yeah, it’s nice that he––“

“He’s so sweet!” Amelia gushed as she rested her elbows on the glass counter top and folded her hands together to rest her chin on top of them, daydreaming off into the distance, “He stays so late to buy you a loaf of bread and give it you.”

“Yeah, he doesn’t really have to––Wait,” You tilted your head, “He stays late?”

Amelia nodded her head, “Way late.  Like sometimes I wonder if he just doesn’t want to go back to where he lives––But his roommate has come in every now and then and he seems really nice so––“

“What time do you guys close?” You crossed your arms over your chest.

“Eight or nine?  Our store front closes at eight but then we have to clean and that usually takes us until around nine––“

“Is he here?”

“Shawn?” Amelia asked as if he hadn’t been your topic of discussion.  You nodded your head slowly, “Yeah, he’s just in the back.  I’ll go grab him!”  

Amelia skipped away and called out Shawn’s name in a sing-song voice, “You have a visitor!” 

You were only waiting at the counter for a few minutes before Shawn and Amelia came out from a back room.  You instantly smiled when you saw flour dusting on the tips of Shawn’s curls.

“Y/n, hi––Wasn’t expecting to see you today.”

You picked at a loose piece of skin by your thumb, second guessing yourself if this was actually a good idea, “Yeah, it’s my day off and uh––I didn’t really have anything to do.”

Shawn let out a chuckle, “No, no…I’m glad you’re here,” his smile was infectious. He brought his hands around his back to untie his apron, “I’m gonna take like a ten minute break, is that alright, Amelia?”

He ducked his head to lift the strap of the apron above his head and hung it on a hook by the door the two of them had just come from.  Amelia started to ramble again, nervous that Shawn was going to go off far, but he quickly reassured the teenager that he was only going to be sitting at one of the little tables in the bakery.

Amelia seemed calmer and Shawn grabbed two paper cups, filled them with black drip coffee, and rounded the counter to you.  He handed you one of the cups of coffee as you followed him to one of the small circle tables in a little alcove that granted you some privacy.

It was the first time you and Shawn were hanging out not in the alley way and while it was nice to see him not in the middle of the night, it felt a bit out of place.  But you enjoyed the way the sun shinned through the windows and hit his face on all the right angles.  You even noticed a little scar on his cheek.

“Amelia likes to…Talk,” Shawn started off, “But she’s really sweet, real nice girl.”

You nodded your head and let out a laugh.  Her liking to talk was the understatement of the century, “She seems nice,” you took a sip of coffee, “But she also let me in on some details.”

“Did she?” Shawn smirked as he leaned back on his chair, setting his cup of coffee down on the white table.  When he crossed his arms over his chest, you looked down briefly to see how large his biceps really were; it seemed as if his white shirt was constricting his flexed muscles.  He seemed almost too muscular to be a baker.

You rolled your eyes at his nonchalance, “Yeah, like how you stay late?” Shawn’s smirk dropped, “And how you pay for the loaf of bread?” You waited to see if he would interject and say how she was lying, but he stayed quiet, “Why?”

Shawn shrugged as he avoided your gaze and looked out the window, “Dunno.”  You brought your foot up to his shin and gave it a small tap, edging him to say something else, “You seemed so…sad that first night and I wish I did something more so when I saw you the second time, the only thing I could offer you was a loaf of bread.”

Your heart melted at him expressing his want to cheer you up.  But little did he know, he offered you more than a loaf of bread that night.  He offered you an ear to listen to, then the next time he offered his shoulder, and now he offered you a friendship.  The loaf of bread was nice, but the non-physical possessions Shawn offered meant more to you than fancy bread.

“But staying nearly three hours or more after your shift has ended?” You picked at the top lip of your coffee cup, the white paper spiraling a little, “You could’ve been asleep, Lord knows how exhausted you must feel after working.”

You were waiting for another answer from him and you weren’t going to talk until he offered something––other than a loaf of bread––up.  He finally shrugged and reconnected his eyes with yours, “I like seeing you.”

It felt as if the sweet smells of the bakery infiltrated your body.  You felt warm, like hot bread that was just pulled straight out from the oven.  You felt comfort, like how the smell of sourdough bread reminded you of your childhood.  And you felt something else; not quite love, but more of an adoration for the baker sitting across from you.

“You could’ve just said that,” You said as Shawn twirled his foot around yours under the table.  A sheepish smile made its way onto your face, “I like seeing you too.”

Shawn’s smile shined brighter than the sun through the window, “That’s…Cool.”

You bit your bottom lip, trying your hardest to conceal the laugh that wanted to escape, but you also wanted to hide your growing smile.  All you seemed to do was smile around him.

“How about…” Shawn started speaking but his words trailed off as he looked at you.  His smile brightened when he saw your rosy cheeks, “How about I make dinner for you? I’m no chef, but I can cook a mean pasta.”

You let out a fake gasp of surprise,  “You mean you’re not a cook?!”

Shawn tsked himself, “Just a baker, sweetheart.”

Butterflies erupted in your stomach; sweetheart.  You wouldn’t mind if he called you that a million more times.

“But this time,” you gave him a pointed look, “I’m buying the bread.”

#woot woot some baker Shawn!! #didnt know this was a need until the thought popped into my head😌 #im also at work so I'll just be popping in and out of Tumblr at random times of the day skdfjksdlfj #didnt think I would be ~in the office but here we are #hope you all enjoyed it!! #let me know your thoughts!! #I LOVE to chit chat!!!! #Shawn mendes #Shawn mendes x reader #Shawn mendes x y/n #Shawn mendes imagine #Shawn mendes writing #Shawn mendes blurb #Shawn mendes fanfiction #Shawn mendes fan fiction #Shawn mendes ff #Shawn mendes fan fic #Shawn mendes fanfic #Shawn mendes oneshot #Shawn mendes one shot #Shawn mendes fluff #Shawn mendes au #Shawn mendes imagines #Shawn mendes writings #Shawn mendes oneshots #Shawn mendes one shots #Shawn mendes fic #shawnblr #Shawn Peter raul mendes #again!! tags will be the DEATH of me!!! you're all invited to the funeral!!!

[ohallthecrushes]

Insomnia // Arthur Fleck x Reader

A/N: I’m baaack, lol. This request was in my box for some time, but I finally finished it. I hope you like it. :)

Summary: Anonymous requested: Reader doesn't sleep often because they have really bad nightmares that result in anxiety attacks. Arthur is super worried. Reader would fall asleep for a few seconds before snapping awake and grabbing either a redbull, soda or a coffee. Arthur feels bad about this but he ends up slipping a sleeping pill in reader's drink. Reader passes out n he takes them to bed. He comforts and calms them when their nightmares start.

Word counts:2320

You didn’t know when your nightmares exactly had begun and what had caused them. What more important you didn’t know how to stop them or at least avoid all factors that triggered them. What worse, you couldn’t hide your anxiety and the effects of the lack of sleeping you’d recently experienced.

You couldn’t focus on anything, your memory barely function properly and your mood was lower than low, you became more irritated and jumpy.

So brittle in Arthur’s eyes.

To be honest, you felt bad for Arthur even more than for your own self. Bad for him having to see you in that poor state you’d been in, bad for him wanting so desperately to help you, but couldn’t and therefore being extremely worried about you. Constant nightmares and lack of sleep put a bad impact on your health and look, in a strange way you had found a way to deal with it though - tons of energy drinks, coffee and staying awake seemed to help you avoid your nightmares. But it was very unhealthy and that way of copping was destined to fail eventually.

You didn’t want your boyfriend to be worried about you. He had his own struggles and fears to deal with. Arthur was such a sweetheart as your boyfriend, he always tried his best for you, and he always took care of you when you were in a bad shape mentally and/or physically, and he gave you his strength to get through the day when you needed.

He was always there for you, and vice-versa, you were always there for him too. You were strong together, you supported one another, understood each other and you were one of those couple that with no single doubt were meant to be.

But even with all the love and support, sometimes things got too bad and ugly that neither of you knew what to do anymore to fix it.

Your nightmares only got bad with time and even with Arthur’s care, therapy and your both efforts to try to reduce the stress, you still were haunted by dreadful and tiresome images.

You started to drink a lot more Redbull and coffee than usual to stay awake, a lot more than any other drinks you had. Way too much for Arthur’s taste.

He observed you even more attentively than before. He noticed every signs of your distress and anxiety and he was deeply concerned about you. He didn’t want you to know that, but he was freaking out inside for not being able to help you get rid of the problem.

He completely understood it, he had very similar problem with insomnia as well. He was haunted by nightmares from time to time that caused him to wake up all sweaty and afraid. He couldn’t sleep because of his anxiety and depression. The only relief he had was with you sleeping by his side, comforting him when he woke up after having a really bad dream.

For him it had gotten better after you moved in together. His insomnia had clearly withdrawn and he slept more peacefully beside you. You were his angel and teddy bear, his one and only, and you were more than he could ever imagined.

He didn’t understand why it was different for you. He tried to figure it out as well. He even took into account that he might be the reason for your nightmares, that maybe you hated living with him but couldn’t admit it. Those thoughts made him very sad, but then he reminded himself how often you were saying that you loved him and how much comfort he was giving you by simply being in your life.

You loved him, he had no doubt about it. But you were in distress and pain and that was making him so worried and concerned. He knew how terrible and exhausted insomnia was. He didn’t want you to share the same fate as him. You didn’t deserve it. His. One. And. Only. Didn’t. Deserve. It.

He clenched his fist everytime you left for work after only a few hours of sleeping. As you took your fifth Redbull at work, Arthur were smoking his tenth cigarette and clenched his fists angry at his own helplessness.

One night, you woke up almost screaming, with a heavy beating of your scared heart in your chest and with tears in your eyes. For a moment you didn’t recognize your bedroom, so real that nightmare was, you had been detached from reality and still in your nightmare even after you woke up.

Arthur was by your side awake as well, his arms already wrapped around you firmly to protect you from invisible monsters from your head. His lips trembling, but calming you down with soft words and taking you back to him, ensuring you that nothing would hurt you, nothing would even try as long as he was with you, and he’d always be with you, no matter what.

You looked at him, you looked at his worried face and you nodded your head trying to believe him. You couldn’t say a word, your body was shaking, but you tried to even your breathing with his as he put your hand on his chest, letting you feel his heart beating and his chest moving steadily, so you could synchronize with him.

For the next few minutes you were siting on his lap and rested your head onto his chest. He was stroking your hair and telling you sweet nothings.

You felt falling asleep again, but you shook yourself out of it as soon as you realized that.

- You need to sleep - he said with a worrying voice.

- No, I- I can’t - you disagreed as you already knew that all you needed was an energy drink - I have to go to the bathroom and...

Make myself a coffee - you thought to yourself.

Arthur was aware of what you didn’t say, though he also had some idea. Idea that might not be good in moral sense, but...

- Mhmh... - he kissed the top of your head and let you slide off his thighs - Go to the bathroom, and... meanwhile I’ll make you a tea. What do you think? Instead of coffee?

- I don’t know... - your voice was low, you couldn’t look at his face, knowing that you were disconcerting him much more than his heart could take. But there was nothing you could do about it, or at least that’s what you thought.

- Herbal tea will calm you down and I’ll stay with you all night to keep you company if you want to stay awake.

He took your hand in his, searching for your eyes trying to assure you that he’d be there protecting you all night, that you didn’t have to worry.

You licked your lips and sighed - I don’t want you to be awake because of me. You go to work at 7, you need to get some sleep...

A faint smile appeared on his face.

- As well as you darling - he thought, but said - I’ll be fine - instead.

He walked you to the bathroom door and then headed to the kitchen. As a kettle was placed on the stove, he took your favorite cup and a bag of herbal tea. The idea he’d had before came back to him and his eyes landed on a blister pack of sleeping pills. He hesitated when he reached for it. He didn’t know if that was something he should do or not, but he couldn’t think of anything else. He only meant good for you and he was sure that it was something you needed. Also he knew it wouldn’t do any harm to you. He was cautious with pills. It wasn’t the first time he slipped some pills into someone’s food and drinks.

He counted the pills, minding how many he could gave you. His plan was as simple as it could be. Maybe a little desperate too, but what else could he do? You hadn’t been sleeping properly for a week now and it was getting only worse. It was another night when you forced yourself to be awake. It broke his heart to see you suffer like this.

The water was boiled and he heard you flushing the toilet, so he hurried and mangled the pills into your drink.

You walked out of the bathroom and found Arthur standing in the living room with a cup of tea in his hand. He was ready to go back to the bedroom, but you stopped him.

- Let’s sit on the couch, ok? - you said with a tired voice before you yawned.

You yawned again as you sat down and searched for a remote control.

Arthur sat down beside you and put the cup on the table.

The tv clicked and the screen lightened up with a bright blue color.

He wasn’t interested in whatever was on the screen, his eyes were on you, examining the dark bags under your eyes.

He wanted to kiss them, but he didn’t want to be weird about it.

He lifted his arm for you instead and you quickly took your tea before you made yourself comfortable under his protectiveness.

You both were just cuddling, not so much invested into watching a movie. You were sipping your tea and wondered if Arthur would let you make yourself a coffee later, while Arthur was just waiting until his plan worked.

It started working pretty soon after you yawned the third time and felt your eyelids getting very heavy. You forced them to stay open, but you couldn’t focus on anything you were looking at. Your vision weren’t blurry, just... it’s like you were dizzy, but in a different unknown way.

You rubbed your eyes and took a big sip of your tea. If not tea than maybe coffee would keep you awake.

You moved and leaned forward to put the cup back on the table, but somehow you missed the tabletop that apparently were farther than you’d thought and you almost dropped the cup.

- Damn it... - you shook your head to wake yourself up, but it only made the dizziness stronger. Your body felt weird to you, like it lost its strength, your perception was deceiving you and you had no idea what was happening to you.

Arthur’s hands hold your arms as if he was afraid you could fall down. He guided you back and gently pressed you to his chest.

- You sure, you don’t want to go to the bedroom, honey? - he said with a soft almost pleading voice.

He felt bad about the pills. Also worried that you would be upset at him if you found out. He hoped you just slowly drifted into a dreamless sleep, but he knew you would be trying to stay awake.

Not for long of course.

Fighting with sleeping pills were pointless.

- I’m good, Artie, just... - you wanted to say something, but forgot the word - I need to... - you pointed at the bathroom as you slowly stood up.

- Yeah, sure, sweetheart. Just come back quick, alright?

You nodded and took two steps before you felt lightheaded and you had to throw your hands up to regain the balance. It was as if you were walking on an invisible rope. Way too high above the ground.

Once again you felt Arthur’s hands saving you from falling as he grabbed your waist from behind you and helped you stand straight.

- Are you alright?

- Umm, not sure... - you turned around to him and your vision became more darker. It was weird. You heard the tv was on, but it was as dark as if it weren’t. The vertigo in your head just continue making you lost your balance.

You couldn’t stand anymore. Your legs were weak. They felt too light, like in contrast to your heavy eyelids. You managed to grip on Arthur’s shirt before you felt yourself falling.

- I’m sorry... - Arthur’s voice reached your ears right before you lost your conscious.

He effortlessly caught your ragdoll body from falling on the floor and lifted you up. He talked to you as he was carrying you to the bed.

- Don’t worry Y/N, you’ll be fine. I’m right here beside you. You needed to sleep, you see... I had to do something. But don’t worry, it’ll be a deep sleep with no dreams. You’ll feel better when you wake up, I promise.

You couldn’t hear it in your sleep, but he talked to you anyway as he placed you gently on the bed and kissed your forehead before he slipped under the cover to lay beside you.

You seemed to sleep peacefully for the rest of the night while he kept his promise and stayed awake to watch over you.

When you woke up, Arthur was already gone. It was 10a.m. and you couldn't remember when was the last time you slept for so long. And so deep. You didn’t remember if you dreamed about anything and it was better that way. You felt rested and those weird experience from earlier disappeared. Your morning had started good, though you were disappointed that Arthur weren’t present.

You looked at his pillow and saw a paper apparently torn out from his journal. You unfolded it right away and smiled to yourself. You would recognize his handwriting anywhere.

“Dear love,

I hope you had a good sleep witout any nitemares and that you feel beter now. I also hope that the rest of your day passes in a good way too. I can’t wait to see you again and hold you in my arms! I love you so so so much my One and Only. :)

Lots of kisses, Arthur”

#arthur fleck #joker #arthur fleck x reader #joker arthur fleck #arthur fleck imagine #arthur fleck imagines #joker x reader #joker reader #joker you #imagines

[jaideite]

How about hcs of bakugo and todoroki(separately) getting body swapped with their s/o?

omg an ask that isn’t one of my friends 🥺

This was very interesting and reminded me of your name hehehe

i had to find a way to make this possible so it’s kind of the same thing basically an accidental quirk thingie ehh—

i tried to make this as gender neutral as possible cause I know some of y’all boys wanna get in on that and i can’t even blame y’all—

im also kind of iffy about how it came out so i hope you enjoy whoever requested 😔

BAKUGOU AND TODOROKI GETTING BODY SWAPPED WITH THEIR S/O

TODOROKI SHOTO

— you guys were going shopping for the dorms

— and you were both in one of the aisles along with this middle aged man and a woman with her kid

— so this little kid was getting pretty annoyed at the gloves on their hands and so when the parent wasn’t looking they just

— yEET

— fREEDOM MOTHAFU—

— anywho now that the kid was free it began to wander around happily

— ya know like a kid

— and you guys were right where the juice was and this little kid was like ‘jUiCE bOX’

— sadly he couldn’t reach it

— but guess who could

— immediately his little hands grab yours and Shoto’s and you both turn to him

— “hey little guys what’s wrong?”

— he simply points, letting go of your hand and to the juice box

— you smile and hand him the carton of juice and he happily squeals while taking it with both hands

— it’s then the mother lets out a panic noise and rushes over to the three of you, quickly shoving the gloves on the little boys hands

— “I’m so sorry I’m so sorry.”

— “There’s nothing to be sorry for ma’am, honestly.”

— “No, it’s not that. I’m sorry, the doctors spoke of his quirk making an appearance soon and I put gloves on just in case. I apologize.”

— and she’s off

— you two shrug it off too and keep going about your day

— the incident in the store long forgotten until you guys wake up

— you don’t really pay attention because come on who does in the morning until you roll from off the soft bed to straight to the floor

— you stop, and get up, running to the bathroom and turning the light on to be met with—

— your boyfriend

— you let out the most unmanly shriek —boy can for someone who’s voice is deep yell loud— and rush out his room to your room

— you constantly pound on the door trying to wake his slow ass up

— your about to swing again when the door is ripped open and there he is in your body looking very confused

— class 1-A is shook as well cause uh

— you look stoic and Shoto’s panicking

— “y/n calm down.”

— “I CANT IM SO MUCH TALLER THAN YOU!”

— “I know but please if you don’t you’ll—“

— you’re so shook at your own body touching you that you turn red and—

— “OH MY GOD HES ON FIRE—“

— y’all are shook

— you keep staring at him while he tries to focus

— every so often you have to try to stop the smoking coming from your left side whenever you look down and remember you’re not in your body

— after school when you guys are along together you kind of just start crying

— and Shoto freaks because he hasn’t cried since he was a little kid and it’s weird seeing himself cry

— so he kind of just

— *pat pat* “it’s oka—”

— “I JUST WANT MY BODY BAAACK!”

—“oh.”

— “IM TIRED OF BUSTING INTO FLAMES OR FREEZING MY FOOD!”

— “oh i remember that.”

— “AND IM TIRED OF SEEING RED AND WHITE EVERY TIME I LOOK AT SOMEONE!”

— “the logical thing would be to brush the hair out the way.”

— *sob* shut up before i punch your pretty face...”

— eventually you cry yourself to sleep and rest Shoto’s head on your shoulder

— he doesn’t want you to fall so he lets you, resting his cheek against your head and closing his eyes following you

— when he opens them he feels his head on your shoulder, he pokes you softly and you startled awake, only to realize

— “IM BACK IN MY OWN BODY!”

— you also cry bc “ill never complain about my boobs again man”

BAKUGOU KATSUKI

— y’all were taking a walk on y’all way back to U.A.

— and some little kid came up to y’all crying

— he’s a little annoyed but the kid can’t be more than five or four so he reluctantly joins you in helping find their parents

— you tell the little boy to take you and bakugou hand and you guys walk along trying to find their parent

— take the kids hand or so god help you—

— “alright jeez”

— and you were trying to calm down the little boy when all of a sudden the mother appeared and scooped him up.

— she kind of panics at seeing you guys hold his hand but you pass it as motherly worry while katsuki just ‘tch’ and looked away

— the mother thanks you and nods and frowns, looking at her sons hands as they walk away and she frowns

— you hear her mumble “what did you do with your gloves?”

— you kind of just shook it off and followed your boyfriend, gripping his sweaty moist hand in yours

— you kind of just slip the little boy into the back of your mind as you drift off to sleep

— when you wake up you realize a couple things

— one, your palms are ridiculously sweaty like no joke wtf

— two, your hair is usually sprawled put everywhere but it’s not

— three, that is not your dresser

— you frown, getting up and moving to the bathroom, stumbling over a weight on the floor.

— what—

— quickly you rush in and hesitantly flick the light switch up, gazing in the mirror to be met with ruby red eyes

— holy shi—

— “WAKE THE FUCK UP DUMBASS! DONT TELL ME YOURE SLEEPING!”

— you’re too shook to comprehend anything. Just the fact that you are in your boyfriends body

— “Y/N WAKE THE FUCK UP!”

— you blink, moving to the door and opening it to see you. . .

—. . .foaming at the mouth

— your classmates are scarred

— you look so terrifying and bakugou

— bitch is he wearing a tie??

— this mf looks clean af

— it’s comical really

— all day you try to calm yourself down

— “Youre doing things to my body I didn’t even know could be done!”

—“Same here fuck face.”

— “I’m wearing your face.”

— you’re so annoyed because your hands get soooo sweaty and at random moments his quirk just pops off

— he gets a kick out of watching you explode your notebook and notes and looking completely flustered, sighing in annoyance

— you get a kick out of him trying to activate your quirk and failing miserably and making himself look like an idiot

— but he laughs when you try to give off an explosion and send yourself flying threw a wall

— don’t even get started on having to use the bathroom

— fucking grape bitch bought it up and it just triggered whatever it is when someone brings it up

— “now that you mention it, I gotta pee.”

— “. . . damn.”

— eventually after a long day of trying to go about this normally, y’all just end up in whoever’s dorm room and the stress of today gets to you

— you start crying

— “Stop crying with my fucking face—“

— “I WANT MY BODY BAAACK!” You sob, clinging onto him

— he tries to pull you off but you use all his muscle to cling onto your body (he regrets being muscular now) and he just—

— “GET THE FUCK OFF ME BITCH BABY!”

— “GIVE ME BACK MY FUCKING BODY!”

— “I DONT KNOW HOW YOU FUCK!”

— you just cry and stuff his face in yo chest

— or you stuff his face in yo tits and ignores the way he turns scarlet and thrashes while you cry “i miss my boobs”

— he’s so pissed he just becomes still with rage all while you pass out on top of him, snoring softly

— eventually he follows and when he wakes up his face is still in your chest

— or you know buried in ya boobs

— and he pauses, realizing the situation

— “THANK FUCK IM NOT IN YOUR BITCH ASS BODY ANYMORE! I CANT FUCKING HANDLE BOOBS MAN!”

— “Says you with the tiny ass waist!”

— y’all never complain about yourselves ever again

#my hero academia headcanons #my hero academia imagines #my hero academia #boku no hero headcanons #boku no hero imagines #boku no hero academia #bnha bakugou #bnha todoroki #mha bakugou #mha todoroki #todoroki headcanons #bakugou headcanons #todoroki shoto x reader #bakugou katsuki x reader #bakugou x reader #todoroki x reader

[gingerwritess]

Hello, I hope you have a nice evening, morning, afternoon or whenever you read it and in whole just a good day🌸 Secondly I'd like to ask: how would Loki react, if Elliot doesn't think girls are 'bleegh' anymore? Would Loki give Elliot advice on how he courted the reader? I'm sorry if you don't take these requests and I'm sorry if that made you uncomfortable in any way. Stay healthy and happy🌸

thankyouforrequestingthissokindlywtfthatmademesohappy

also i know i didn’t get to the actual “advice” but this was getting really long so that part will be a separate drabble h e h

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

“Hey, dad?”

Loki nods, biting the tip of his tongue as he carefully measures a teaspoon of olive oil. “Hm?”

“You busy right now?”

“A bit,” he murmurs, focusing on not spilling—the tiny little measuring spoons you got years ago are much to small for his fingers.

Elliot quickly nods. “Gotcha. I’ll, um, come back later.”

“No, no, I can multitask, what can I do for you?”

“It’s all good,” Elliot assures him, backing out of the kitchen. “It’s stupid anyways, I’ll just ask mom or look it up or something.”

“Elliot,” Loki laughs, setting down the olive oil and grabbing a wooden spoon, pointing it at his son, then at the fridge. “Talk to me. And get me a stick of butter, I could use the help.”

A little smile lights the kid’s face and he rushes to the fridge, grabbing the butter and tossing it to Loki. “You know I can’t cook,” he reminds him, leaning against the counter as Loki mixes. “So I don’t think I can be of much help, but I’ll try.”

“You didn’t get that from me,” Loki chuckles. “Blame your mother. What did you need?”

“That’s kinda what I wanted to ask you about.”

“Your mother?” Loki glances at the time—good, you’re not supposed to be home for another hour. “Are you wondering how she ended up with someone like me?”

“Not really, I think I get that part,” Elliot replies, rubbing the back of his neck. “Kind of. I don’t know. Um, I just was wondering if you, um…”

“…yes?”

“If-if you could maybe, I don’t know, give me some advice?”

The wooden spoon falls to the counter with a clatter.

Oh, no big deal, Loki’s son just came to him seeking advice, trusting him to lead him in the right direction with his knowledge and guidance, trusting him not to steer him wrong, that’s all.

Easily one of the best moments in Loki’s thousands of years of life.

“O-of course, I’d be happy to help,” he stutters, quickly trying to cover his surprise. “Advice with what?”

A relieved grin breaking over his lips, Elliot shuffles a little closer to his dad at the stove. “There’s, uh, this girl.”

Loki all but chokes, dropping the spoon in his risotto and whirling around to his son.

“There’s a WHAT??”

“A girl,” Elliot laughs sheepishly, picking up the fallen spoon and handing it back to Loki. “C’mon, dad, don’t make this weird.”

“Okay, right, sure.” Loki nods, trying to control his grin. “What advice do you need?”

“Well, I, um, don’t know if she likes me back.”

“You are in love with someone who doesn’t like you?”

“No!” Elliot backtracks, eyes wide. “No, no, no, I didn’t say I’m in love with her, yikes, no—”

“Why do you say that like it’s a bad thing?”

“I can’t be in love, dad, that’s…not possible. I just like her.”

“Not possible,” Loki repeats slowly, going back to his cooking. “You know, your mother tried to kill me when we first met. I didn’t think loving her would be possible either, but here we are.”

“So you’re saying if Morgan tries to kill me, she might love me?” Elliot snorts and shakes his head. “Nah, thanks, dad. I think you and mom were just a little weird. Special case.”

No answer.

Loki’s frozen at the stove, knuckles turning white around the handle of his spoon—he must have misheard the name.

Not Morgan…Stark, right?

“N-no,” he tries to bring himself back, give the best advice he can—giving advice? Yeah, this is a first for Loki. “I only mean to say…love, if you, erm, believe in that sort of thing, it’s—it’s different for everyone, a-and you never know where you might find it—”

“But I know where I found it,” Elliot cuts in, confusion etching itself into his brow as Loki rambles. “I just don’t know what to do with it. What’d you do when you figured out you loved mom?”

Loki swallows thickly. Gods, he wishes you were home for this conversation. The puberty talk was fun enough on his own, but now this?

A little part of him wonders if it’s healthy to be scared to talk to your children, yet here he is, heart pounding and palms starting to sweat as Elliot waits for him to answer.

Elliot repeats the question, a little quieter, gentler this time.

Oh, gods.

“Y-you should ask your mother,” he quietly offers, keeping his gaze trained on his cooking. “She’s better at this, all these, ah…” he breathes a quiet laugh. “Emotions.”

His dish isn’t turning out well, honestly, the rice is a bit burned and the sauce seems to be about to break on him. Wonderful.

It was supposed to be a surprise for you, since you’d been gone most of the day after weeks of little sleep, a surplus of work, and Frigg deciding she “doesn’t need third grade” after all.

For the record, he’s a supporter of the little movement.

“Okay.” Elliot nods, glancing at the mess on the counter. “Do you want some time alone? You don’t look too good, I don’t want to be a bother…”

“No,” Loki snaps and his fist hits the countertop, sending measuring cups flying as he stares at his failed meal.

Elliot flinches and takes a step back.

“Mom’ll be home any minute,” he reminds him, palms up in front of him. “I’m sorry, I’m really, really sorry if I said something, dad, really—”

“Please don’t leave.” Loki’s voice cracks and Elliot gulps.

“Okay.”

A moment passes, Loki hunched over the counter and gripping the edge in a white-knuckled hold, Elliot watching cautiously from the doorway, picking at the palm of one hand.

Laughter breaks the silence, Loki’s, Elliot realises, his dad is laughing now and sounds borderline psychotic.

“What did I do?” Loki turns to him, eyes bloodshot and swimming with unfalling tears. “Yes…what did I do when I realised I loved your mother?”

Elliot just stares, wishing you were here, too.

“You want to know—w-what I did,” Loki laughs behind a wet sniff, “when I realised I loved your mother? I denied it for months, Elliot, and I treated her like a piece of shit.”

A hollow, dull ache fills the boy’s chest and the room goes cold—Loki doesn’t cuss in front of him or Frigg; only on the rarest of occasions when he needs to really, really emphasise a point.

“I acted like I hated her,” he spits out, eyes flashing, “and many times convinced myself that I did, a-and when I finally admitted I-I loved her, she wanted nothing to do with me because I’d ruined every single chance to love her with my arrogance a-and my stupidity—”

“Dad, dad, easy,” Elliot laughs nervously, rushing to Loki’s side and laying a cautious hand on his arm. “It’s alright.”

Loki pauses, taking a deep breath and glaring at the ground, hating himself for snapping so easily in front of his son.

“Is this…something to do with your past?”

Ignorant little boy. Beautiful, ignorant, clueless, perfect little boy.

“The part you won’t tell us about,” Elliot clarifies. “‘Cause I didn’t mean to trigger anything, dad, I’m sorry, I really didn’t.”

“Don’t apologise.” Loki runs a hand over his face, exhaling heavily and trying to rub away the tears left in his eyes. “Gods, don’t ever apologise to me, I don’t deserve that.”

“Okay, but—”

“And you’d never be a bother,” he keeps whispering, an intensity in his voice to match that burning in his eyes when he grabs Elliot by the shoulders and bends down to eye level. “Thank you for coming to me, I-I’m so sorry I did this to you, put you through this—”

“We’re baaack!”

Frigg flounces through the door, slamming it behind her—right in your face, but you just sigh and trudge in after her.

“There she is,” Loki laughs, squeezing Elliot’s arm once more before bending down to swoop his little princess into his arms.

A flicker of light flashes over Loki’s face, a split second of changing energy, too quick for your tired eyes to catch or for Frigg to notice in the midst of her hug—Elliot sees it.

He glances up at his father, seeing a smiling, fresh face, full of light and nothing like the broken man he’d just encountered.

Elliot’s learning that his dad is a really good liar.

“Get expelled yet?” Loki plants a kiss on Frigg’s cheek, smiling all the while.

“Not yet,” she giggles, hugging him tight around the neck. “M’gonna need some help for that.”

“Just tell me what you need.”

“Loki,” you yawn, waving a hand at the three of them. “Don’t encourage this, she’s already gaining supporters on the playground.”

“Are you really?” Loki sets her down, grabbing her hand and guiding her in a quick twirl. “You’ll be a fearsome queen one day, Frigg. I can already see you on your throne, leading your people to prosper—”

“How about a shower for her majesty first,” you jump in with a pointed look to your husband, “and ruling kingdoms later??”

“I would listen to the current queen, if I were you.” Loki raises an eyebrow at his daughter. “Obey and you might just survive her rule.”

Frigg immediately straightens up, flinging a stiff salute at you and bolting off down the hallway to her room.

“Good lord,” you groan, sinking into a chair at the table. “She’s…she’s…your child.”

You wave a hand at Loki.

“Goddess of mischief,” he laughs, and Elliot glances at him—there’s no use hiding it anymore, right? Frigg’s gone, you’re here…

Nope. Loki walks to your side, tilts your head up to plant a kiss to your lips, brushing his thumb over your cheek as you hum happily and lean against him.

“Well, I attempted a risotto.” Loki sighs and gestures at the mess across the kitchen. “I had hoped to surprise you, but…no such luck.”

“Aw, thank you,” you mumble, reaching for him again and pulling him down for another sloppy kiss. “S’sweet of you, I bet it’s really good.”

“It’s…not.”

Elliot wants to laugh, awkwardly watching the two of you, but it’s more painful than heartwarming or humorous to watch his dad act this time, knowing what he’s really hiding.

“Want me to order takeout again?” Plastering a smile on his face, Elliot walks over and gives you a quick hug.

“That…might be best,” you reply, hugging your son back and giving Loki a sheepish grin over his shoulder. “Unless you wanna eat it anyways, Loki?”

“No.” Loki shakes his head with a laugh. “I’ll cook for you tomorrow, it’ll be better, I promise.”

Elliot desperately wants to say something, warn you about what happened and suggest maybe you eat the attempted meal anyways, but Loki just smiles and laughs and ruffles a hand through his hair.

“Thanks, Elliot.”

His smile seems sad behind the facade, and he squeezes Elliot’s arm as he walks by—almost like he wants to say something more.

But he doesn’t, he takes your hand in his and follows you as you lead him out of the kitchen, apparently unbothered by what just happened.

…leaving Elliot standing in the middle of the kitchen, extremely confused.

* * * *

After a lovely dinner with thankfully only one wonton thrown across the table—you’d expected Frigg to start it, but nope, thanks, Loki, very mature—you noticed Loki’s a bit…off.

Not terribly off, no, just acting a little bit strange.

A little distant, distracted, and he doesn’t even laugh when you tell him about the “mimicking the principals voice and telling her teacher he’s fired” phone call that Frigg had managed to pull off today.

His mind is clearly elsewhere as you kiss your kids goodnight and send them off to bed, clearly elsewhere when you drag him out of his little library-office to go get ready for bed, only for him to flop onto the mattress and curl in on himself, hugging his knees to his chest.

“Okay, what’s going on?”

Climbing onto the bed and poking his turned back, you peek over his shoulder. “Seriously, Loki, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” He pulls a pillow over his head.

Very. Very. Mature.

“You’re a bad liar,” you sing, yanking the pillow off his head and pressing a loud smooch to his cheek before he can protest. “How many times do I have to tell you? I can see right through you, trickster.”

“You’re just nosy,” he grumbles, but sits up and crosses his arms. “I only ruined every good idea my son may have had of me, that’s all, will you leave me alone now?”

You blink a couple times in shock, flabbergasted and more than confused.

“What are you talking about?? Elliot loves you, he thinks you’re incredible!” You scramble over the bed to wrap your arms around him, hugging him tight to your chest. “You’re his biggest role model, his hero, my hero, and we love you. And like hell I’m gonna leave you alone, nice try.”

“He came to me asking for my advice.”

“Loki, that’s amazing,” you murmur, stroking a hand through his hair. “I can only imagine how much that must mean to you, that’s wonderful, snowflake—”

“Know what I did?”

Voice gone sour, he pushes out of your hug and looks you intently in the eye.

“Yelled,” he hoarsely tells you. “I yelled and I punched the counter and I told him that I hated you, and-and I cried, I broke down and wept in front of my son like a fool, a-and—”

A sob cracks through the room.

“Fuck.” He drops his head to his hands, shoulders shaking. “Damn it, I can’t stop fucking crying.”

Heart pounding, you hurry to sit on the edge of the bed next to him, rubbing a comforting hand up and down his spine.

“Hey, Loki, honey…where’s all this coming from?”

“Like hell I know,” he spits, hiding his face in his hands, hunched over with elbows on his knees as you try to comfort him. “I had a chance. I had a fucking chance with him and I threw it away, made his ‘advice’ all about my own sick problems like the selfish, fucking idiot I am.”

“Loki! You’re not selfish, what the hell are you talking about?”

“Yes, I am, my son came to me admitting to possibly being in love with someone and by the end of the conversation, my son was comforting me, being gentle with me, reassuring me in my relationship—”

“Wait, wait, Elliot’s in love with someone?”

Loki’s mouth snaps shut—the more he thinks about it, he’d nearly forgotten the initial topic of Elliot’s asking for advice.

“That’s what he told me,” he answers quietly, staring at his hands. “Someone named Morgan. We didn’t even get to talk much about it before I ruined the moment, as you know I do so well.”

A smile tugs at the corners of your mouth as you take his hands in yours—finally, Elliot.

“Well, that’s wonderful,” you laugh, rubbing his back and tilting his head up with a finger under his chin. “But know what’s even better?”

The glare Loki shoots you could only be described as royal.

“He told you.” Your fingers curl around his jaw and you pull him closer. “Your son still told you that, he came to you and wanted to share that with you, he wanted your advice, Loki.”

“Yes, and I ruined it and pushed him away like I always do, I just told him to go talk to you.”

“He didn’t.” Resting your forehead against his, you stroke a thumb along his jaw, smiling softly at him. “He never said anything about this to me, snowflake, he wants you to help him.”

“Oh.”

Loki falls silent, head slowly leaning into your touch.

Whenever you hold him like this, arm around his shoulders and now hugging his head in the crook of your neck, running languid fingers through his hair, Loki swears he can count the days of his life.

This seems so…mortal. This whole failure thing.

Humans are so good at failing—it’s the one thing he’s noticed since he first started watching Midgard.

You’re good at failing. It doesn’t scare you, it seems; you rush head-on into uncharted territory and look for things to try, just so you can fail and try again.

You actually like his failures, calling them opportunities and learning experiences and helping him back up, forgiving him time and time again like the clueless idiot you must be to love him—

More failure, his mind spins, just another person to disappoint.

He’s known that since the first moment he held Elliot’s tiny form in his hands.

Your fingers curl and brush through his hair, heartbeat steady under his head.

“…what do I do?”

You press your lips to his forehead, brushing some strands of hair behind his ear. “You could start by going a little easier on yourself. Have some faith that you’re not completely unlovable.”

He gives a dry laugh. “Not completely?”

“Mmm…I don’t know,” you giggle, hoping your smile can help get him back on his feet. “There’s just something about you I can’t help but love.”

Half a lopsided smile tugs at his lips.

“I’ll try.”

“Good.” You hop to your feet to stand in front of him, grabbing his face between your hands and gazing seriously into his eyes. “Know what else?”

“What?”

“I’m pretty sure Elliot’s room is just a hallway away. And I’m pretty sure he’s still awake, wondering how the hell to successfully court a certain fair maiden.”

“Oh, gods, no.” Loki stands up, furiously shaking his head. “What am I supposed to tell him? Well,” he sarcastically starts, “you could always burn down her office building, asking her to kill you seemed to work well for me—”

“No, no, no,” you laugh, jumping up after him and pulling him into another hug. “Just talk to him about…doing nice things for her, things he wouldn’t normally do. Just get him to talk about his feelings about her, and report everything back to me, I’ve been waiting years for these two to get together.”

Loki frowns. “You know this girl?”

“You do, too, snowflake.” A giddy grin spreads across your face. “Morgan?”

“Wait, no.” His eyes wide, he takes a step away from you. “No, no, no, not Morgan Stark, tell me it’s not her.”

Biting back a laugh, you raise an eyebrow at him. “Do you know any other Morgans?”

“My son is in love with Tony Stark’s daughter.”

“Get used to it.”

“Do you have any idea what hell this is going to unleash?? Stark is going to wring my neck, and gods forbid Elliot ever upset her—if he even allows it—or it’s my own back taking the lashings—”

“Just go,” you laugh, pushing him towards the door. “Teach him how to be just as romantic as you are and just as adorable and absolutely, completely irresistible.”

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

hope you enjoyed, please reblog and feel free to send me ideas!

loki tags: @bluediamond007 @himitoshi @drakesfiance @destiel1597 @dangertoozmanykids101 @archy3001 @jcalpha1 @yzssie @skullvieplu @forthesnakeofdragons @skulliebythesea @wegingerangelica @storiesfrommirkwood @agarwaeneth @adaliamalfoy @laurfangirl424 @paradisaicsam @fitzsimmons-is-forever @ladylokimischief @katelinwrites @tarynkauai @polaristrange @loavesofmeat @canadian-ravenpuff-multishipper @lou-makes-me-strong @holyn0vak @chocolatealmondmillk @swtnrholland @kenzieam @jessiejunebug  @catticas @the-republic-and-face-of-texas @doralupin01 @whitewitchdown @atomiccharmer @falconfeather23435 @babygirlicecream @avengrcs @vethrvolnir2 @bookgirlunicorn @wabisabigrl @myhealingstar @khaleesi-marvel @ei77777 @spacecrumbs @scarlettghost13 @rocks-are-pretty-odd @confessionsofastrugglingteen @easilydistractedwriter @arttasticgreatnessoftheawesome77 @fluffyllamaswearinghats @milktearose @lcyouinhell @h0tshotholland @dontmesswithmemundane @southsidesarcasticwriter @helnik-s @lilith-akemi @fire-in-her-veinz @unlikelysamwinchesteronahunt @mischievousbellerina @kcd15 @mellowgirl01 @lokislilcaribbeanprincess @allthingzhiddleston @scorpionchild81 @lokixme @blue-automne @galaxycharmed @devilbat @kangaroobunny @end-up-well @planetariumx @sarcsep @mrfandomtastic @amaru163 @im-way-too-many-fandoms @caswinchester2000 @kybaeza @wester-than-west @vintagesunshinebitch @adefectivedetective @poetic-nikolai @moonduhsted @kerri-masson @iamverity @innaminitus @spnbarnes @narcissxblack @woohoney

#loki x reader #loki reader insert #loki imagine #loki x reader fluff #loki requests #dad!loki #domestic!loki #loki angst #loki fluff #loki fanfiction #loki drabbles #loki laufeyson #elliot lokason #frigg lokadóttir

[papirogems]

.Hello!.🙃[Eng. Below] Yaaaa estoy de vuelta y con las pilas recargadas.💃🏻 ⠀ Os quería enseñar este encargo tan especial que me pidieron antes de las vacaciones y que tanto me recuerda al verano.⛱ ⠀ PD: También quería reconocer que hoy tengo envidia máxima (de la sana) de quien esté en la playa así que, si estás de vacaciones, ¡¡disfruta mucho!! - I’m baaack!☀️ ⠀ Today I wanted to show you this personalized order that I made before I went on vacation and that reminds me so much of Summer.🏖 ⠀ PS: I also recognize that I’m a bit jealous of all of you that are near a beach so if you are enjoy it!! •⠀⠀⠀ #papirogems #handmadejewelrydesign #joyashechasamano #origaminecklace #bodasdepapel #bodasdepapel💏 #paperwedding #personalizednecklace #collarpersonalizado #collarhechoamano #joyasunicas #regalooriginal #regalounico #originalgifts https://www.instagram.com/p/CD_XEJ0K5Lw/?igshid=uveb38u3r64z

#papirogems #handmadejewelrydesign #joyashechasamano #origaminecklace #bodasdepapel #bodasdepapel💏 #paperwedding #personalizednecklace #collarpersonalizado #collarhechoamano #joyasunicas #regalooriginal #regalounico #originalgifts

[jordm]

Heartland 13x03 - Rearview mirror review

Previously on Heartland... Lou told Mitch she loved him & oh yeah almost forgot about that whole saga of events.

Lyndy is also talking and giving high fives and it’s real adorable. 

AND we get a “wife” aka Cassandra mention not once but twice! Once when mentioning her doing acupuncture and second when Caleb mentions getting the wife’s approval. If only we saw her (RIP Amy's friends)... but one can dream.

AND a Scott mention (so clearly Ty is still somewhat working with Scott, or at-least using his equipment) so clearly his business is still thriving. Did Ty go back and work with Scott since his own personal side business went downhill?

JACK

IT’S LITTLE JACK (played by actual little Shaun aka Shaun’s son)! 

Anyways, Jack is acting off. He’s yelling at Luke when he accidentally stumbles across his sister, June’s suitcase of things and doesn’t let Georgie help bringing in the hay-bales, even though she helped last year. Through flashbacks, we see what could possibly be the route of it; memories of June and himself from when they were teenagers (even if no one else except him or the audience realize it).

My guess is that Georgie reminds him of June, with the way she wants to help out around the farm and everything, and with Luke unearthing his memories, with Georgie reminding him of June, he doesn’t want her to do anything that brings up good - or bad memories.

Like for example, June saying her dad let her ride (knowing how her riding the horses turns out) and then his hesitantcy to let Georgie ride the cart during the hay bale even though it clearly makes the most sense

or when Georgie loses control for a second, and then gets things back on track, Jack refuses to let her take the reigns again due to what happened to June way back when, when she lost control, accidentally rode over a rock and ended up being dragged by the cart (and DIES; this is why they created the quick release thing right? Like if you get thrown off a jet ski it auto clips off). He doesn’t want Georgie to be rocked off and end up the same even if it’s a totally different situation.

But guys, this is how June dies.. DIES. Which is heartbreaking because not only was Jack not there, but she was only driving because he wasn’t there.  Jack said the reason that he pretends she didn’t exist, is because its his fault she died, but it wasn’t. I do think that this is some form of survivors’ guilt and back then, perhaps it wasn’t ‘normal’ to talk about his feelings with his family, so he never got a real chance to grieve. 

Did his family blame him since him going away caused her to be in this situation, when really it was one mis-placed rock’s fault? Or perhaps the other team members should have been close together to help her OR even better, someone should have been on the bugey with her like Jack was with Georgie (I know it was just sticks but STILL) just incase something happened? Or maybe this was more than a two person job?!?! POINT IS, it wasn’t his fault, even though he blames himself and I believe this story arc is going towards Jack finally finding closure... or some semblance of it because time doesn’t necessarily mean you’ll ever be 100% over a traumatic event.

KATIE

Guys, I’m totally on Katie’s side. It’s totally unfair that Katie has to share her room with Lyndy, while the foster kid gets the attic to himself. This is why this current arrangement to me, didn’t make much sense, and honestly, still doesn’t. Because either way they put it, let’s face it, they are one room short no matter how they put it.

Not to mention that she came home from Europe to find the entire family dynamic different, with Georgie in the loft, Tim in his trailer and Amy/Ty back in the main house. Lou may have said alright to the new arrangement but did anyone ask Katie about what she wants?! Anyone can see why she’s a little pissy at the new arrangements especially since Jack could easily move into Fairfield.

Luke: “Can you ride?”

Katie: “I’ve grown up on a Ranch, so plenty.”

I mean, it’s true; have we ever seen Katie ride? She’s may have grown up on a ranch but lately (as in the last 2 seasons) she’s been in Vancouver, Europe, a friends, grandma/grandpa... how much time has she really spend at the ranch?

Anyways, I think that Katie has been away so much that when she came back to find that Luke was here semi-permanently, the rooms have changed... and now Luke can ride better than she can - she just feels out of place. Maybe taking horse riding lessons with Georgie again will help her find her place in the family again.

RINGO (with Jade/Caleb/Amy/Ty... it’s an all hands on deck type)

So, apparently Amy hasn’t been working with horses for the past while due to the online troll aka Kirk constantly posing negative reviews, so when Jade asks her to look after her new horse Ringo, Amy is thrilled. Add to the fact that, apparently Jamie Wilcox sold Jade a horse with a broken vertebrae (and was beat while in auction?) and has a history of doing this with other horses. 

SIDE NOTE: How much time does Kirk have on his hands like damn man, get a grip. At what point will he ask himself, “Am I taking this too far?”. We still haven’t seen the Maggie confrontation, so clearly this storyline will be going on a bit more. 

Ty wisely says no to Caleb’s suggestion to lie that there was no Bute in his system to get Wilcox to admit that there actually was. But oh wait - luckily he has another horse up for sale that has been acting up and Caleb has a plan!

Amy: “Just don’t do anything stupid?”

Ty: “Me, Caleb? Never!”

They never got into mischief... never ;) and I miss their mischievous adventures, especially when they work out and give justice to the bad guys.

So Caleb’s plan is to “pretend” to be interested in buying in the new horse, while Ty secretly gets a blood sample. This works, and as long as Jamie doesn’t drug his horses anymore and gives Jade her money back, they won’t tell anyone. And since Jade and Amy (this pairing!) won the buckle, everyone wins! 

I actually genuinely enjoyed this storyline; seeing Caleb and Ty / Amy and Jade working together again was a nice change of pace, reminding me that there are other people in the universe besides the immediate family. Jade giving Amy a glowing review to counter the bad ones probably helps a ton too, especially since she can say “she helped the Ringo and me win a buckle”.

LOU AND MITCH 

Lou is baaack and is hiding her relationship with Mitch from Katie (much to Amy’s amusement), to the point where he is creeping in and out of her bedroom through the window. Like, are we in high school again? Why doesn’t she just go to his place? Doesn’t Katie love Mitch?

Anyways, Lou isn’t fooling anyone with these early nights... okay except maybe Jack because he gets his gun when he hears someone “breaking in” and it’s Mitch just crawling into Lou’s window.

This storyline was basically “kids aren’t as stupid as you think” because Katie knew all along and I still hate that Mitch is being defined by his relationship with Lou but what can ya do? But the result was that Mitch asked Lou to move in with her.  MOVE IN. Y’all how long have they been dating for? I can’t help but think that this is such a bad idea, esp given their history, even if it would solve the bedroom problem and would let Katie have her own bedroom (either at the new place or at the ranch).

SONGS IN THIS EPISODE

Dreamer - Jen Grant

#heartland #review #rearview mirror

[killian-whump]

LITD Part 1 Liveblog!

Yay! Come watch with me here!

So... Colin only has a small role in this series, but he’s adorable and I love him like a certifiably crazy person, so I am ridiculously excited for this. Also, it seems like this is actually a really super cute show anyway. And you can see a lot of Drogheda in it, too. Very nice <3

Colin first shows up as Peter in the 33rd minute of part 1! He’s adorable, lol, I love him and am adopting him immediately. Thank you. Peter is such a goober, and the scene afterwards with Shane and Lisa is pretty funny, lol.

Then Peter shows up again at the 40 minute mark, being a HARD LAD D: He’s all glowering and threatening and... and I can’t even, you guys, this is the cutest thing I’ve ever seen. I literally had to pause the show to cover my face with my hands and giggle like a schoolgirl, lol.

He’s back again, just before the 42 minute mark, standing at the bottom of the stairs and being a haaaaaaaaaard lad again D: Oh my God, I can’t take it. I literally cannot... OH MY FUCKING GOD, YOU GUYS. “I’m just trying to figure out which one of you hairy bastards reminds me most of me mickey.” I’m dead. I’m officially dead. I’m literally dying over here; I laughed so hard I gave myself a coughing fit. What the... This is priceless.

I love you, Colin O’Donoghue. You fill my life with endless joy T_T

We, as a fandom, haven’t truly lived before this point, when we get to see Colin Peter compare three huge biker dudes to his hairy willy.

SHANE’S FACE IS MY FACE:

We don’t get to see the fight that ensues, but I’m sure it’s one for the ages, as it’s just smart-arsed Peter against these three huge hairy penis like dudes, and they’re all so fucking livid, and now Lisa and Shane are shoveling Peter into a cab and he’s like a Pomeranian that thinks it’s a Rottweiler. I CAN’T EVEN, SOMEONE HELP ME, I LOVE HIM <3

Lisa’s “Just get out, you.” LOL :D Peter is so fucking gone, lol, I love Colin’s face and the faces he makes with his face when he makes faces. He’s so cute when he’s playing a drunk guy, lol, like that’s the perfect “And another thing... No, there isn’t another thing, but AND ANOTHER THING” drunk face. Oh, wow, now he’s just puking all over the front steps, illustrating that infamous threshold where drunk becomes too drunk. Nice one, Peter. And now they’re locked out and poor Peter’s just passed out on the step with vomit on his face. Oh my gosh, you complete mess of a human being, I love you?

“What are you doing down there?” LOL, this show is super cute, though.

...and now I’m laughing at the phone message Gary just got XD

Peter’s gone :( He fucked off somewhere while they were sleeping. Peter, where did you go? Why did you leave me? Don’t you know I love you?!? I’m watching the last few minutes of this like Rose at the end of Titanic, when she’s got no voice left and she’s going, “Come back! Come baaack!” in that tiny little non-voice, because Peter’s left and nothing will ever be the same again T_T

Ope! Show’s over! This got pretty long, so I’ll make one for each part <3

#love is the drug #liveblog #kw reviews #oc