#but I quite like this immediate jump to the setup

[worldofbalance]

Sephiroth’s put his fan club in good hands - Kefka’s hands, that is.

#xgiworks #kefka #sephiroth #kefka palazzo #ffvi #ffvii #animatic #animation #final fantasy #there’s a version of this with an extended intro on my instagram/Twitter #but I quite like this immediate jump to the setup

[trentsgirl]

— 🗝️⋆⭒˚｡⋆

⟡ summary: as a renowned actress and the partner of footballer joão felix, you find yourself attending an interview, unaware that he is actually the one conducting it.

⟡ content: fluff, a little proofread, reader a bit of a dumbass for not realizing but it had to be this way, nardwuar reference in the end.

⟡ request: here:))

⟡ masterlist.

when you were informed that you’ll be interviewed, you expected to have a face-to-face interaction. however, you were surprised when they placed you in front of a camera and inserted an earpiece, explaining that the interviewer could see you, but you couldn’t see them.

you didn’t think much of it and decided to go along with the situation. however, in hindsight, it would have been wise to question the unusual setup, considering that your boyfriend, joão, was the one conducting the interview as a prank on you.

clearly, you had no idea.

“hello, i’m spencer, and i will be conducting the interview today,” a male voice resonated through the earpiece.

joão couldn’t help but chuckle at his attempt to put on a fake british accent. it was quite comical, yet once again, you didn’t find it peculiar and simply nodded in response.

“hello,” you greeted with a smile directed at the camera. “i’m y/n.”

you heard joão humming before he rudely questioned, “is that what you’re planning to wear for the interview, ma’am?”

upon hearing joão’s remark, your smile quickly faded, and you glanced down at your dress. you were wearing a beautiful white sundress adorned with blue flowers, a dress that joão actually adored and considered one of his favorites.

however, his comment was part of the question he was given by production.

you chuckled awkwardly in response, stealing a quick glance at your manager who was standing with the production team. your manager simply shrugged his shoulders, leaving you to address the question. “um, do you not like it?” you asked, trying to maintain a light tone.

joão hummed once again, his disapproval evident in his tone, and you barely was able to resist rolling your eyes.

“it’s lovely, ma’am. i was just wondering.” he said, although it was clear that he didn’t truly think so.

“anyways, let’s start shall we?”

“yeah, sure.”

joão proceeded with the question and had to restrain himself from bursting into laughter due to its absurdity. “alright... so, why do you think men like you? is it because of big breasts or personality?”

the unexpected question caught you off guard, causing your eyebrows to jump in astonishment. you were under the impression that the interview would focus on your new role in bridgerton, not about your breasts.

“I’d liked to say personality but we both know that’s not true.”

your answer prompted a few chuckles from the production team, but joão restrained himself from laughing, aware that you would immediately recognize his distinct laughter.

“do you genuinely believe that you have big breasts, ma’am?” joão asked solemnly.

glancing down at your chest, you took a brief moment to assess before raising your gaze and nodding. “yes, i suppose so.”

and again, there’s that stupid hum.

joão continued with the next question, “alright, moving on. who do you believe should pay for the first date? the man or the woman?”

you were still puzzled about how any of these questions were relevant to your show, but you chose to answer to avoid causing any disruptions.

“i don’t really mind,” you shrugged. “whenever my boyfriend and i go out, he usually insists on paying, but i would be more than happy to pay. he just never lets me.”

joão smirked, knowing well that what you had said was indeed the truth. he had never dared to let you pay for anything, even though you were one of the highest-paid actresses in the industry.

he held old-fashioned views and saw nothing wrong with it.

“more than happy to pay? i haven’t heard a woman say that, like ever. that’s new… are you sure you’re not just saying it?”

joão noticed that he had upset you when he saw your stern and intense expression through the camera.

it was evident to anyone watching the interview that joão was thoroughly relishing the opportunity to annoy you.

“i’m sure, spencer.”

he could recognize the annoyance in your voice. he realized that spencer had made it onto your list of least favorite people. it was amusing to joão how you actually maintained a physical list of people you weren’t fond of.

“why do you always let your boyfriend pay for everything? doesn’t it make you feel guilty? what a poor guy...” joão remarked, his voice dripping with feigned disappointment.

you managed to maintain your composure and professionalism, although it was a challenge. who did this guy think he was, pushing your limits like that?!

“I can assure you we’re very happy, next question, please.”

you were eager to talk about a different topic, nothing that involved your boyfriend or personal matters. that wasn’t the focus you had in mind for the interview.

“alright.. why do you prefer to sleep on the right side of the bed and not the left side?” joão inquired.

you appeared visibly unsettled. the only person who knew which side you slept on was joão and only him. not even your manager was aware of this detail.

“how on earth do you know that?” you wondered, a disbelieving chuckle escaping from your lips.

joão tried to maintain a serious demeanor, but your facial expressions were absolutely hilarious. they were pure gold. your level of discomfort was evident, and you made no attempt to conceal it.

“you’re y/n l/n, we have got to know.”

you cast a pleading glance at your manager, silently urging him to bring this ridiculous interview to a close.

“this is getting too strange for me. i don’t think i wanna continue with this interview,” you stated, reaching to remove the earpiece, but spencer intervened to stop you.

“wait, just one more question and we’ll be done!” he assured you.

you out a sigh, reluctantly acquiescing. mentally preparing yourself for yet another bizarre question, you were taken aback by what he actually said.

“how does it feel to be pranked?”

immediately, you recognized the portuguese accent of your boyfriend, who was clearly amused and laughing uncontrollably.

“joão? oh, i’m so going to kill you!”

#trentsgirl—work! 🪐⋆｡°✩ #fanfic rec🦢 #joao felix #joao felix79 #joao felix x you #joao felix fluff #joao felix smut #joao felix fanfiction #joao felix x reader #joao felix imagine #football smut #football fanfic #football fluff #football fantasy #football imagine

[shootingstarwritings]

A Beta makes, an Alpha takes

TW: homophobic slurs

Eduardo Garcia was a content creator who, like many others in his field, lived in the SolCal area. He was a self-described ladies man and an amateur pick-up artist. Most of his videos and livestreams focused on giving life advice for men. That night was the same as it always was, with Ed saying his catchphrase, “A beta makes, an alpha takes,” to his impressionable audience.

Once the stream ended and he counted his donations, Ed made his way to the bar. It didn’t take long for him to find another girl to screw. His type was always the same: eager young women new to town and looking for something deep and steady.

After a long and sensual session, the girl whose name he forgot asked if what Ed wanted for breakfast that morning. She had wanted to cuddle, but Ed’s protests kept her at bay. Ed pretended to think for a while before saying, “I’ll treat ya. It’ll be a surprise,” before kissing her.

Around five the following morning, Ed snuck out of her apartment having lost zero winks of sleep that night. ‘Not my fault there’s so many suckers in this town,’ he thought to himself, grinning the whole way back to his apartment. ‘They wouldn’t fall for fellas like me if they had a lick of common sense. I just do what I do. If they don’t wise up then it’s on them.’

That morning should’ve been like all the other ones for Ed. He was in a fantastic mood to grab a quick bite and then spend some time in the gym after scoring as hard as he did the night before. However, just as he reached the floor his apartment was on, he caught sight of his neighbor standing unusually still.

Carlos was exactly everything that Ed hated about the SolCal area. They were in the same field as influencers, but Carlos focused more on “Affirmations of the self,” and “Queer rights,” and other stuff Ed had long-since forgotten about. Carlos had gone to great detail to explain, but Ed had mostly tuned out whatever didn’t relate to Carlos’ follower count or the cash he was making. Knowing the two would never get along, Ed preferred to avoid Carlos altogether, even if he did secretly wish the two would collab so that Ed’s follower count would grow.

Yet, on that morning, Ed couldn’t take his eyes off of Carlos. He stood in front of his apartment door, staring blankly ahead. A few moments passed, but the man didn’t even blink. Ed knew he should just leave him along and mind his own business, but a nosy part of him urged him forward.

“Hey man,” Ed called out, “You okay? You’ve been standing there for like an hour or something.”

Carlos’ head immediately snapped towards the direction of Ed’s voice, causing the latter to nearly jump out of his skin. “I was unable to court another female,” said Carlos in a stilted, unnatural tone. “I was reviewing what I did wrong. Forgive the intrusion.”

‘Court another female. So the fag’s trying to get with chicks, now?’ thought Ed before being struck by a genius business idea. “Good on ya, man!” Any prior concerns about Carlos’ odd behavior were discarded to the wind as Ed wrapped an arm around his shoulders and squeezed. “Good to see ya swinging for the right team. ‘bout time you dropped all that fag shit,” he said, pointing a thumb to the pride flag hanging on Carlos’ door.

“Fag shit…?” echoed Carlos, but he didn’t offer any resistance as he was guided to Ed’s apartment.

“You came to the right place, my friend. Nobody knows how to pick up the ladies quite like this lady-killer.”

“You kill them?”

“Ha-ha! Aw, ya crack me up, big guy. C’mon, I’ll give ya a few pointers.” For Ed, giving Carlos several of his lessons and even showing him the streaming setup was an investment. He was gaining much money from doing this, but all he needed was to win Carlos’ trust over and he’d be swimming in new subs and a brand new market to sell. There just had to be guys who played for both teams on Carlos’ faggy audience, he assured himself.

After about half an hour of coaching, Carlos repeated Ed’s lessons like a college student cramming for a final. “A beta makes, an alpha takes.” For whatever reason Carlos seemed particularly fond of that phrase.

“We’re the men. The providers! That’s why we gotta remind this pussified society who’s really in charge. The alphas,” said Ed, flexing his bicep to punctuate his point. His body was one of the few things he had worked honestly for. Steroids and diets were a frequent topics in his online rants. To Ed, if one couldn’t get a body like his naturally, then they couldn’t call themselves a real man.

“And this has worked to acquire mates?”

“Mates? Bro, I’m swimming in pussy. And soon you will too,” said Ed. He lightly tapped Carlos’ chest. “With a bod like this? It’ll be even easier. Stick with me and I’ll get you laid. Just, uh, don’t forget ‘bout that collab I mentioned.”

Carlos, after what seemed like an eternity of stone-cold stoicism, finally cracked a smile. “Yes, I would love to collaborate with you.”

“Awesome! Lemme get something to celebrate.” It was still early in the morning, but it was always five o’clock somewhere, right? Ed made hi way over to his fridge and pulled some of the quality beer. The cheap stuff was reserved for those rare moments he had a girl over. “We gotta celebrate this new friendship of ours, my man. I got--!”

Carlos tackled Ed as he walked back to the living room. The two crashed onto one of his couches in a mess of struggling limbs. “Yo, what the fuck, man?!” cried Ed. He tried to push Carlos off, but froze as he saw Carlos’ body convulsing and his eyes rolling up, showing the whites. Seizure? Stroke?

Before Ed could reach for his phone in his pocket, Carlos leaned forward and locked lips with him. As soon as the two made contact, a slimy creature flowed from Carlos’ mouth into Ed. Once the substance made contact with Ed, his body began unresponsive. He tried to struggle and push Carlos off of him, but his arms remained heavy and limp. More and more of the slime pumped into Ed until Carlos’ body, unconscious yet still convulsing rolled off of the couch.

Ed couldn’t move but he could still feel a chilling sensation spread throughout his body, filling him up. The slime crawled down his throat and began to expand inside of him. Most of it traveled down his esophagus and began to assimilate his core, arms, legs, and toes. Each limb seized and shook as it became corrupted by the invader.

Ed tried to scream as it fell the creature fill his head and coating his brain, yet he could do nothing but endure the sickening yet pleasurable feeling. It was filling him up, and for whatever reason, Ed couldn’t help but enjoy the way the creature dominated him. His body, still unresponsive to his pleas for help, merely humped the air and sensually moan as it was taken over.

Eventually, Ed blacked out. The last thing he perceived was his hands touching his face and his own laughter.

~~~

‘Please, give me my body back,’ whined Ed.

“Give it a rest, Ed,” the creature possessing Ed said, grinning to himself. “Thank you for providing this impressive specimen, by the way. I quite enjoyed the takeover.” He tilted his head as he read the magazine. “Hmm, you are well-endowed, indeed. Perfect for my mission.”

A few days had passed since the creature slithered into Ed’s body. Ed had woken up to see his body piloted by some kind of foreign invader. Despite Ed’s pleads, it refused to give up control, saying, “I’ve been needing a strong and virile specimen to breed and spread.”

‘You can’t fucking do this to me! It’s not right,’ Ed begged from the recesses of his own mind. ‘I’m a human being. I don’t deserve this!’

“Your mind is intact, is that not enough for you?” the creature said as he jerked Ed’s cock in the couch. “You could have ended up like my previous experiment. Right, Carlos?”

“Right you are, my alpha,” said the thing inside of Carlos. Ed tried to look away from Carlos’ naked and puppeted body, but the creature didn’t have the decency to give him that.

Carlos was not the creature’s first victim, but it was the first that didn’t suffer massive brain damage from the creature’s invasive efforts. However, the creature still hadn’t quite managed to access Carlos’ memories and personality. It had managed to figure out the basics and just needed one more attempt to do a proper possession. Ed was the creature’s first success, and it wouldn’t be the last.

“What else do you wish, my master?” said Carlos as he eagerly marched over to Ed, swaying his hips and sticking his ass out as he spoke. “Do you want to breed me once more? Fill me up with more of your spawn so I may go and spread?”

While Carlos hadn’t suffered brain damage, but the trauma of the invasion caused him to become catatonic. To remedy this, Carlos was the first one to received the creature’s spawn. The creature, riding high thanks to Ed’s disgust at the homosexual act, fucked Carlos’ body and let one of its children pilot the still-living husk.

“Please, act a bit more like your host would. Keep reviewing the videos.” Ed mentally screamed to himself as his invader forced him to say that. Even if the creatures had little idea as to how to blend in society, the sheer amount of content that Carlos and he made would guarantee that they had plenty of references for impersonating them. “Later, I’ll pump you full. I just… need to explore this body of mine a bit more.”

Carlos cleared his throat before giving a sweet, nonchalant smile. “No prob, my man. Later we should go out, though. Get familiar with the area.” He winked and said, “Later,” just as Carlos always did.

‘Please, let me go,’ Ed tried once more. The idea of the creature doing this to his friends and family, acting like him the whole time, was a hell he couldn’t bear. ‘I-I’ll even hook you up with another better. Better bodies, just please let me go…’ Ed internally sobbed.

“You’re quite pathetic,” the creature sneered as it violated Ed’s body once more. “Where’s your bravado, Eddie~? You were swimming in pussy just a few days ago. Now you’re pounding men and craving cock.” Ed’s body let out a malicious laugh as ropes of cum erupted from his stolen dick. “It’s like you always said. A beta makes, an alpha takes.”

#male possession #male body possession #slime possession #gay male possession #gay possession #gay story #gay fiction

[heliza24]

Wilhelm's Journey of Radical Forgiveness in Season 3

So this is the next entry in my unintentional series, about how Young Royals embraces truly radical story telling. Previously I’ve written about Simon in season 2 and his arc of radical acceptance, and about how radical the act of quitting the monarchy could be for Wilhelm (and I have never been so happy to be right about anything). But now I’m ready to start talking about season 3, which I loved, and specifically about the theme of radical forgiveness, which I thought was laced throughout the whole season beautifully and drove Wilhelm’s arc specifically.

Before I jump in, I want to pause and really define the concept of radical. When I’m using "radical" in this context, I’m talking about something that challenges the nature of what we assume to be true. I’m talking about embracing an idea that may not seem logical at first, but feels emotionally true and necessary. And I’m talking about ideas that are revolutionary, that have the potential to change people and societies.

When I went in to season 3, I assumed from the beginning that it would end with Wilhelm leaving the monarchy. I have always seen this as the fundamental question of the show (will Wilhelm stay and fulfill his predetermined destiny, or leave and find his own path?). Wilhelm’s relationship with Simon is a catalyst for that decision and their ability to stay together depends on its answer. (There’s no world where Wilhelm remained prince and Wilmon was still endgame.) But during the gap between episodes 5 and 6, I realized that even if you could sum up Wilhelm’s overall series conflict as crown vs freedom/Simon, that was not the major thing driving him in season 3. Or rather, there was another dramatic question he needed to answer, or internal conflict he needed to solve, before he could decide to walk away from the throne and fix his relationship with Simon.

Season 3 starts with the private arbitration/settlement negotiation, and immediately establishes how inadequate legal and financial reparations are at mending the divide between Wilhelm, Simon, and August. Instead this setup pushes Wilhelm into more conflict with August, making him feel like he has to defend his family from August’s incursions. At the same time, the season also opens with the initiation reveal, and the immediate implication that Erik was one of the perpetrators of the sexual abuse that occurred and that August was one of the victims. Suddenly the audience is able to see that the perfect family Wilhelm thinks he is defending— including Erik’s memory— is so much more complicated than Wilhelm realizes. And at the same time, the supposed threat that August poses is also much more complex. No one is as black and white, as good or as evil, as we would like to believe. And Wilhelm’s arc this season is all about understanding this.

There’s one more component to Wilhelm’s arc this season, and that’s his relationship with Simon. As the season goes on, we see Wilhelm become more and more complicit in the abuse Simon suffers. As the season progresses, Wilhelm becomes an enforcer of the palace, asking Simon to give up more of himself, to compromise more of his values, to be with him. By episode four he is saying some pretty homophobic things (“do I have to represent all queers just because I’m in love with you” feels like a slap in the face) and by episode 5 he is subjecting Simon to a violent outburst, even if it’s not directed at him. Wilhelm says almost the exact same thing to Simon that Erik said to him in season 1 (“everything you do now represents me and the royal house”/“everything you do reflects on us as a family”). Kristina is explicitly asking Wilhelm to step up and fill Erik’s shoes this season, and Wilhelm obeys in more ways than one. Wilhelm begins to pass on the same cycle of abuse that is currently affecting him to Simon. The same cycle that has affected Kristina, Erik, August, and Wilhelm is affecting Simon now as well.

In order for Wilhelm to break this cycle, he has to be able to see what he is doing. And he cannot do that until he recognizes and accepts the nuances in both Erik and August. He can’t move on until he has made some sort of peace with both of them.

I think it was a genius idea to trap Wilhelm and August in Hillerska’s version of couple counseling (lol) and force them to talk to each other. (As an aside, I really do love how this show treats therapy as a thing worthy of being dramatized. It’s so powerful.) I also think it was important to see August begin to make some steps of his own, both in therapy and in the way he begins to give Wilhelm and Sara more space. We don’t really see the end of August’s arc of slow self improvement— by the end of the show he’s still very much trapped in the royal cycle and dependent on Sara in a way that’s problematic— but that’s ok because he isn’t the protagonist, and the important thing is that we notice that he is beginning to change, and so does Wilhelm.

The scene at the end of 3.4, when August tells Wilhelm about what happened during the initiation, is so important. August delivers that information genuinely, and not as a threat. And in that moment Wilhelm’s perception of his brother (and secondarily, of August) is flipped upside down. I think even more important is the kind of unspoken question lurking under this new information for Wilhelm: if I idolized Erik, and I detested August, and my image of both of these people was incomplete, then what does that say about me?

I think we can see Wilhelm questioning his perception of his family and of himself in a lot of subtle ways over the last two episodes. We see him put on nail polish and take it off. We see him afraid to ask his dad for more information about Erik on the phone, and then screaming at his parents for the way they abandoned him. We see him struggling to integrate this new information, and he completely neglects Simon because of it, leading to the breakup.

By episode 6, Wilhelm has lost Simon, reached a sort of catharsis with his parents, and maybe most importantly seen Hillerska itself— the setting where the abusive system seems to be baked into the very walls— crumble. All of the things he though were untouchable (his love for Simon, his parents’ authority, the everlasting nature of Hillerska) have completely changed. And I think all of that instability is what allows Wilhelm to finally accept that his understanding of both Erik and August doesn’t have to be permanently fixed either. I love the scene where August and Wilhelm meet at the party, August apologizes, and Wilhelm accepts his apology. And I also love the scene where Wilhelm throws out the broken frog prince snow globe, the one enduring symbol the show has associated with Erik and Wilhelm and their shared role over and over again. I know different fans will have different arguments about how Wilhelm feels about August at the end of the series, but for me their last interaction symbolizes radical forgiveness. By this I don’t mean that Wilhelm has to forget about what August did to him, just like he doesn’t have to forget the bad things Erik has done to others. But he does have to accept them as they are- full of flaws, but intricately connected to him. As part of his imperfect family. And he lets go of the violent anger that has plagued him through much of the series in that moment. That’s a type of forgiveness that makes a real change. It opens up a whole new avenue of possibility for Wilhelm. Because in extending that radical forgiveness towards August and Erik, he’s also able to forgive himself for the way he too has failed the people he loves.

Actually, I think there’s one more component necessary for that self forgiveness, which is Simon telling Wilhelm that he never gave up on Wilhelm himself, only on the Royal family and its rules. That one line is such a gift to Wilhelm. It allows him to see himself as an individual who is separate from his family and able to make his own decisions for the first time. It allows him to fully forgive himself, and to make the decision to leave for his own sake. It allows him to save himself. And then because he has saved himself, he and Simon can be together again.

So in the end Wilhelm ends up answering the driving dramatic question (crown or freedom?) but only after he extends radical forgiveness to his family members and to himself. I think it’s so beautiful, it makes me cry every time I think about it.

This theme of radical forgiveness is everywhere this season, not just in Wilhelm’s arc. It’s in Sara and Felice’s reconciliation, and in Sara and Micke’s relationship, and in the ways that Sara forgives herself and moves beyond shame (expect another meta from me about Wilhelm and Sara season 3 parallels soon, because there are many and I love them). It’s in the way that Linda and Simon forgive each other, and the way that Simon forgives Wilhelm, and the the way that Simon forgives Sara. It’s even in the ways that August grows in fits and starts this season too. I feel like I learned so much from this season. It challenged my assumptions about characters I thought I knew and reminded me to that there is beauty in acknowledging nuance in the world. And I think it will serve as an ongoing reminder for me that even when I mess up and do not live up to my ideals, I am still worthy of radical forgiveness. Growth can’t happen without that compassion towards ourselves and others. And if that isn’t the most perfect message to take away from this beautiful show that I have loved for so long, I don’t know what is.

#young royals #young royals season 3 #young royals s3 spoilers #my meta #wilhelm young royals

[delaber]

The Massage (Bucky Barnes x Reader)

Summary: Despite the ache in his thigh, Bucky has been avoiding the new massage therapist for quite some time now.

Note: Okay, so due to an unnecessarily hot gif (and I mean unnecessarily hot), the original post with this story was unfortunately put in tumblr jail last night. This is a repost of that story. Please help me by spreading this fic even if you've already reblogged the original. I'd appreciate it immensely ❤️

Warnings: Smut, smut, and purely smut - with a plot! Pining, teasing, edging, Bucky is highly stimulated from his massage. Slight age kink and with a fluffy ending.

Words: 6.1K

For five months, Bucky has avoided coming here like the plague. He has made up excuses, hid in his bedroom, tried ordering all sorts of remedies online, and has even resorted to massaging the aching thigh himself, but of course Sam - the rat - had eventually had enough of his moaning and complaining, and had told on Bucky first chance he got.

Bucky knows that his annoyance towards Sam is uncalled for - that his thigh has become a nuisance, a reliability that is keeping him from performing as well in the field as he used to, but even though he has long since realised that the strain in the muscle will feel a lot better after just a few rounds of professional massage, he's still been praying every night for it to go away on its own just to avoid finding himself in exactly the situation he's in now: visiting the in-house massage therapist who also happens to have his heart beating a little faster every time she smiles at him. You.

He knows there's no way out, that he eventually has to knock on the door in front of him and step inside your office, but his heart is racing like crazy in his chest and the jump from the window right next to him might not result in a particularly comfortable landing but it will definitely be more comfortable than the hell he surely will release upon himself when he feels your touch. It's a professional setting and the things he wants to do to you are fucking far from professional! He shouldn't even be having these thoughts; you're friends - colleagues even - and he's so much older than you. It's... creepy.

"It's just an hour, it's just an hour," he closes his eyes and breathes hard, hopes it's enough to calm himself down and forget about all the wonderful self-relief sessions he's had with you painted on the back of his eyelids. "- you can behave yourself for one hour..." he sighs and reluctantly releases the tense muscles of his right arm so the closed fist falls forwards and hits the door in front of him with a bang much louder than intended.

For a second, everything goes quiet.

He hopes it's because you have forgotten all about the appointment Sam fixed between you a few days prior, but then he hears shuffling on the other side of the wall, and it doesn't take long before the door with your name written on it swings open and reveals your bright smile that immediately warms up his abdomen.

"Bucky!" you exclaim happily and make room for him in the doorway, "come on in!"

"Thanks..." he mumbles more grumpily than intended and steps inside the dimly lit room that smells like flowers, warm citrus and that massage oil that has made your fingers more softer-looking than anything he's ever set his eyes on before. It's a setup for failure.

"I'm so happy you're here! I was wondering when you'd finally stop by," you chirp happily from behind him and even though he can hear the question in your voice, he's not about to answer why he hasn't sought your help sooner. "Sam tells me you pulled a muscle in your groin a couple of months back."

"Yeah," he clears his throat and avoids looking you directly in the eye, "it's no big deal, it'll heal..."

"I kinda figured you'd say something like that," you happily tilt your head to the side and search his face, "why don't you strip down to your underwear and I'll take a look at what I can do to help you."

Oh doll, you can do so much to help me! He clears his throat and bites back the unwelcome thought as he quickly pulls off his shirt and jeans.

"Okay, so tell me," you smile at him when he sits down on the massage bed and spreads his legs out to the sides so you have easier access to the affected area. "- exactly where is the pain located?"

Ready to get this whole ordeal done and over with, he quickly points to the area on his inner thigh that feels as if someone's plunging a knife deep into the tissue every time he takes a step forwards. "Right here - but it's really not a big deal. You don't have to do this."

"It's my job," you chuckle sweetly before you direct your gaze down to the area surrounding his groin.

Immediately, Bucky can feel his face grow hot as your beautiful eyes visually inspect the skin right below the hem of his boxer shorts, and he has to keep himself from instinctively closing his legs shut in silent embarrassment.

"Hmm, you do look a bit tense..." you scrunch up your nose in concentration and the warmth in his stomach deepens. You're way too cute for your own good. " - I think I'd like to start off by loosing up the muscles around your hipbone. Could you turn around and lie down on your stomach please?" you ask and look up into his eyes with a cute little gaze. He's never had you this up close before and it's definitely doing something bad to him.

"Yep," he croaks and immediately turns around so his burning face meets the hole in the mattress below him.

He can hear you squeeze out a gentle amount of massage oil from a tube next to the bed and you heat it up by rubbing it between your hands while he with closed fists and hypervigilant senses braces himself for the inevitable touch.

"Alright, Barnes. I'm gonna start touching you gently now," you say in a soft, professional tone and he cannot help but squeeze his eyes shut. "- don't worry, it'll feel good."

"Yeah," he clears his throat and desperately focuses on his jumping nerves to try and get them under control. Your words of comfort are not exactly reassuring when 'feeling good' is exactly what he's worried about...

"Here we go," you conclude in a quiet sing-song voice right before you gently put your hands on his upper thigh and start running your fingers over the tight bundle of painful muscles. It hurts at first but after just a few seconds of your fingers on his skin, he can feel the tightness slowly disappearing.

Professionally, you massage the aching tissue deeper and deeper, and Bucky feels how his jaw slowly eases up in time with the tension of his thigh. Your fingers are dancing over his lower half, squeezing the tight muscles and caressing his skin, and it doesn't take long before your warm fingers and the citrus in the air send his protective parades crumbling. Suddenly, his thigh doesn't really hurt anymore and he's so relaxed that he let's go of the tension in his shoulders too and his eyes automatically close shut without warning. A slow song is playing soothingly from somewhere in the room and while your fingers are working magic on his tissue, he feels himself disappear into it.

Your hands are slowly moving from the middle of his leg to the area right underneath the hem of his boxers, and your oily fingers suddenly slip down to his inner thigh where they warmly start kneading the skin.

You move his leg a little out to the side and briefly press in on a point near his crotch that has him soaring! Sweetheart, it feels so good, he almost groans and melts into the mattress when he suddenly feels a stray finger touch an even more sensitive area on his already burning skin. Ah fuck! He has to stop himself from whimpering as your warm palms soothe his sore muscles while the soft pad from your stray finger gently rubs and touches the sensitive spot on his gracilis muscle right where it attaches to the back of his pelvis. Shit, he feels amazing! He just wants your soft, oily hands to stay on him forever! Just wants them to rub and tug and slip further and further down between his thighs until they eventually slip inside his boxers and feel the warm, pulsing area where he really wants your touch! And if he's lucky, you might just ask him to flip around onto his back so you can climb on top of him in your cute little uniform and pull back the skin at the tip of his cock with your hands. Or your mouth. Or your glistening, tight, wet pussy. Fuck!

He hisses.

Involuntarily, and because he's so relaxed, he's accidentally managed to excite himself a little too much and now there's nothing he can do to stop it! He wants to - but oh God he can't! So when he feels the blood rush from his stomach and down to the only region he does not want it right now, he can only lie there and panic in silence.

He feels himself grow hard in time with his blurring vision and he wants to tell you to stop your motions, to let go of him and leave the room pronto, but how the hell is he supposed to do that without giving himself and his treacherous dick away? You can never know the effect you have on him! You're so sweet, and so young and innocent, and he's almost fucking forty! Fuck, he's sweating like crazy!

Blissfully unaware of the inner battle going on inside Bucky's head, you keep massaging his thigh heavenly, and even though he tries so hard to think of something else - anything else! - he can only think of the soft touch you're providing... Your hands are so warm and so oily and he's growing harder and harder by the second while your innocent fingers dance only mere inches away from his not so innocent erection.

Fuck, fuck, fuck what the fuck is he supposed to do now?

"Barnes, are you okay?" You ask him gently and slow down your movements so your hands almost come to a halt when you feel him tensing up, "- do you want me to ease up a little?"

"No, no, it's fine," he breathes and feels a fresh surge of blood streaming down to his crotch when your fingers stroke his thigh affectionately to get him to relax. As long as he stays on his front, it shouldn't be an issue. He has time to make the raging boner go away before you ask him to turn around.

"Okay, good. Let me know if you need a break," you hum and touch him gently while he thinks of baseball, of cold cups of coffee and stale crackers, of Sam's oldie slippers and the stain on the floor below him - anything to try and control the relentless erection that is pulsing and screaming and begging to be touched!

But no matter how hard he tries, his erection won't calm down. Not when you're touching him so sweetly.

"Alright Barnes," you say after a few of his panicked minutes and slowly take a step backwards. "Could you turn around for me please?"

Fuck...

He opens his eyes and fixates his gaze on the stain below him as his face heats up. "T-turn around?" he gulps and feels how his entire body suddenly seems to be impatiently pulsing along with the prominent erection.

"Yeah, I'd like to take a look at your groin now that we've loosened your muscles up a bit."

Jesus fucking Christ, he's sweating balls! How's he ever going to recover from this?

"You know what? It already feels better thanks!" he tries and hopes he sounds convincing and not too panicked.

"Yes, well you've been lying down for twenty minutes," you chuckle, "- it'll come back as soon as you start moving, trust me."

"I can always come back tomorrow if it acts up again."

"We both know you won't..."

"No, I promise. It already feels so much better!"

"Barnes, what's wrong?"

Fuck, there's truly no way out...

"Sweetheart," he clenches his eyes shut and prepares himself for your terrible reaction to what he's about to confess, "I have a bit of a - uh - a... problem..."

"A problem? What kind of problem?" you sound concerned, and if it hadn't been for the horrible situation he's in, his chest would've probably swelled with pride that you care for him.

"It's a - uhm, shit - it's a... guy's problem."

"Oh?" You become quiet for half a second and he can practically hear how the gears in your head turn until the penny suddenly drops. "Oh!" you let go of him as if you've been scorched by fire and he suddenly feels so much worse. Poor woman.

"Yep," his voice is thick and awkward, and he wishes he had jumped out the window when he still had the chance. Now he's gonna scare you away for good and it's all Sam's fault!

"Hey - hey, it's okay," you reassure him softly and put a hand down between his shoulder blades when his entire body goes rigid with shame. "Barnes, it's a perfectly normal reaction to a massage in that area! Please don't feel embarrassed about it - you're not the first client in here who's been experiencing a problem. Sometimes it just happens."

He feels a weird pang of jealousy when he thinks about how your sweet, innocent hands have made some of his male friends at the compound as raging horny as he is right now. He doesn't have the heart to tell you that it doesn't have anything to do with the massage itself and everything to do with the person who's giving it.

"Come on, just turn around for me, okay? I won't hold it against you. I know it's nothing personal."

But it is, he thinks to himself before he with a tight-lipped smile and clenched jaw turns around on the massage table. He knows you well enough to know that you won't let him go before you've looked at his thigh.

He gulps when he sees how tightly his boxers are draped over his hips and the massive erection is standing like a fucking pole vaulter in the air between you. "Jesus fuck, I'm so sorry."

"It's okay," you smile professionally while looking anywhere than directly at his embarrassing vulnerability. "Maybe it's better if you sit?"

"Yeah, yeah maybe," he sighs in defeat and swings his legs over the side of the mattress as he pathetically tries to readjust himself so the erection tucked inside his grey boxers does not look as prominent as it did while lying down.

"You good?" you ask when he stops shuffling and he quickly nods in return. "Good - you wanna continue?"

Not really. "Yeah, whatever."

"Alright," you step over to him and professionally fix your gaze on his thigh, "could you spread your legs apart a little?"

"Sure," he does as he's told while clearing his throat, pretty sure that his entire face is currently a mixture between plum- and beet-coloured.

"Let me know if it's too much, okay?" you smile reassuringly and slowly reach your hands forwards.

"Mm-hmm," he clenches his jaw shut to avoid involuntary sounds when your small fingers finally touch his thigh again and you quickly resume your massage with a professional expression slapped across your face.

Carefully, you move the hem of his boxers a little upwards and squeeze out a gentle amount of massage oil into the palm of your hand before you make the mistake of looking him deep in the eye as your fingers find his skin again. The look you're sending him is giving him goosebumps and you gulp and briefly look away when he involuntarily hisses at the touch.

"Barnes, you - uh - you want a towel or something?" You ask and he can practically hear the discomfort in your voice.

More embarrassed than he's ever been, he looks down at himself and notices how the entire front of his boxers is now soaked in pre-cum. "Oh god!" He instinctively pulls his hand over to cover up the huge wet stain and feels how his ears grow impossibly warm. "Fuck, I am so, so sorry."

"It's okay," you hand him a small white towel to cover himself with.

"God, I'm so fucking embarrassed," he drops the cloth down into his groin and wishes he could disappear down into the mattress instead of facing this absolute hellish nightmare! "You must think I'm such a creep..."

"No it's alright," you smile sheepishly and start working on his thigh again, clearly feigning a professional attitude.

He sighs. He cannot believe he's doing this to you.

"Barnes don't worry, okay? I know you're a nice guy."

"Still..." he clenches his eyes shut as your small fingers find one of the sensitive spots on his inner thigh underneath the hem of his boxers and has to lock his jaw to avoid giving out a groan.

He can hear how you chuckle lightly from behind the stars that are blinking on the back of his eyelids.

"I'm glad you're amused."

"Sorry, sorry," you snigger softly, "I've just never seen you this discomposed before. I'll be quick so we can get you back to your room to take care of it," you joke to diffuse the tension.

"Yeah, thanks," he gulps and feels how yet another drop of precum leaves his leaking head when you press in on the spot again. He's so turned on he can feel his nostrils dilating, his thighs shaking, and he just wants to fucking reach inside his underwear and fuck his fist until he comes! God, this is so much worse than anything he could've ever imagined! He's going to kill Sam for this!

"Wow, you're really having a hard time," you smile a little to yourself as you steal a glance up at his pained expression.

"Give me a break, sweetheart," he groans with eyes snapped shut in embarrassment, "Your lubed-up hands are basically on my crotch and let's be honest," he gulps and slowly opens his eyes again, "- you're not exactly displeasing to look at."

Your eyes widen slightly at his confession before a proud smile tugs the corners of your mouth upwards. "What Barnes?" you chuckle proudly to yourself, "- you like the way I look?"

"Come on, don't pretend you don't notice half the guys here staring at you."

"Okay you got me there," you laugh sweetly and direct your attention back to your steady working hands, "I have noticed a few stray glances here and there - I just haven't noticed any from you, so yeah, I'm a bit surprised."

"Well, you can take this as confirmation that I like looking at you too," he awkwardly points to the throbbing erection between you. He figures it's better to discuss the elephant in the room instead of ignoring it. Maybe you can have a laugh about it later...

God, he hopes so.

"Hey, come on," you tilt your head to the side when you see his pained expression, "stop beating yourself up. It's a relaxed atmosphere in here and with the aromas and the music, I understand that some guys let go. It's completely normal."

"No, sweetheart, it's not," he sighs. "I don't know. At least not for me."

"It's not?" You chuckle while still working on his thigh.

"This has never happened before, I swear."

"So the fear of getting an accidental erection isn't the reason why you've avoided coming here?"

"No, sweetheart," he sighs and adjusts himself on the mattress, "it's not."

"So -" you bite your lower lip and fix your gaze on an undefined spot on his thigh to avoid his eye. "- if I understand you correctly; what you're basically saying is that you're hard because of, well, me?"

"Yep," he sucks in a breath of air when he feels your movements still and he braces himself for the angry rejection before he looks over at you. You're staring at him wide-eyed and doe-like with your mouth hanging a little open, not sure how to respond to his confession.

"I'm sorry," he croaks, "you must think I'm a total asshole..."

"No, no, no, not at all..."  you shake your head and clear your throat while sending him a nervous glance. "I think you're quite cute, actually..."

His mind goes completely blank. He's been called many things in his life, but never that.

"...cute?"

"Yeah," you nod quietly. "I - uhm - I guess I've been having this teensy tiny crush on you so - uhm - yeah," you smile, all flustered, "- you know."

"You have a crush on me?"

"Yeah," you scrunch up your nose and lick your lips. "I mean... look at you," you gesture to nothing in particular, and he can feel his chest go all warm with pride as you look him over.

"So you're not freaked out?"

"No, no not at all," you admit with a shake of your head. "You've been driving me up the wall for ages, you know."

"I - I have?"

"Yeah..." you nod, "I've actually been hoping you'd stop by here so I'd have an excuse to, you know, touch you," you admit and now it's your turn to look embarrassed. "It's wildly unprofessional, I know."

"No, no you're good. You're being very professional about... this," he nods while pointing to his crotch. "I swear, if I wasn't so insanely attracted to you, I wouldn't be so... bothered."

"Yeah, you do look a bit flushed," you give him a crooked smile.

"I know..."

"So..." you bite your lower lip again and move in close enough for him to hear your heartbeat, to suddenly smell that you're aroused too and it's driving him absolutely insane! "...I have a crush on you," you stroke his thigh affectionately, "- and you have a crush on me."

He nods and scoots a little closer to you, careful not to scare your hand away from its close proximity to his crotch. "What are we gonna do about that?" he pants and puts a hand to your face, stroking your cheek and hoping to dear God that you'll let him kiss you.

"I don't know," you whisper and lean in close, stopping with your lips mere inches from his and with huge doe eyes staring straight at him.

"My god," he groans and runs his thumb over your cheek again, "you are beautiful," he whispers and slowly moves his face until his lips finally come into contact with yours.

The kiss starts off slowly. Bucky is careful not to pressure you into anything and simply just concentrates on the feeling of your impossibly soft lips on top of his. It's pillowy and wet, sensual and sexy and he's strung along, never wanting to let go of you.

"Peach," he whispers when your mouth strays away from his and starts moving down his jaw and throat. "Peach, you don't have to do this. Please don't feel pressured into anything just because I'm excited okay?"

"I'm excited too," you whisper and carefully place your hand on the tight bulge at the apex of his thighs so a bolt of lightening shocks through him. "- my excitement is just not as visible as yours," you place a wet kiss on top of his jugular. "You don't have to go back to your room to take care of this, you know," you bite back a smile as you stroke over his tight balls so his Adam's apple bounces uncomfortably in his throat.

"Sweetheart," he pants, not sure if this is really happening or if the sudden rush of blood to his crotch has him imagining things.

"I can help you..." you say quietly and move your palm over him so he gives out an involuntary groan.

"Doll," he sucks in some air and stutters his hips upwards, silently begging for more.

You understand his cue, and you lean in close so you can lick the shell of his ear as your fingers find their way underneath his waistband. As soon as your oily fingers come into contact with his burning skin, he can no longer hold back the moan that's been sitting on the edge of his throat for a good half hour now and he once again stutters his hips upwards when you close your fist around him and start stroking him slowly.

"Sweetheart," he groans against your skin and you give out a noticeable shudder when his hands snake under your shirt so he can caress the soft skin of your stomach. "Oh my God!" he whines and runs his nails over your waist, pulling you closer to him.

"You like this?" you whisper and tug his earlobe between your teeth.

"Fuck yes! I've been thinking about touching you since the first time I saw you."

"Yeah?" You pant against him and reach down to cup his balls with one hand while the other continuously strokes up and down his veiny shaft. "Been thinking of me all wet and naked for you?"

"Fuck," he whimpers and finds your pebbled nipples underneath your shirt and roll them between his fingers. "Yes."

"What have you been thinking about?"

"Your mouth," he breathes and pinches your nipples between his fingertips, "your slutty little mouth. All wet and tight for me."

"My mouth?" you giggle against him and gently bite down on his earlobe so he gasps loudly, "want me to make your little fantasy come true?"

"Oh god, yes doll! Please," he whimpers and you immediately drop to the floor between his open thighs, sitting on your knees and strutting your ass as you grab him by the root, rubbing his cock over your cheek and lips as he whines above you.

"Is this what you wanted?" you send him a wide-eyed look while your pink tongue finally pushes past your plump lips and lick the underside of his almost purple head.

"Fuck! Yes, yes doll! Please suck me" He hisses and feels his toes buzz when your tongue slowly runs over the slit at the tip, "ah baby!" he groans and watches how you flatten your tongue and wetly licks him all over his leaking head. "Please put me in your mouth, please!"

"I like you begging," you pant and lick him from root to tip, ending the long lap by closing your lips fully around him.

"Oh god, oh fuck," he shoots his head backwards, never looking away from the angel between his legs. Spit and precum is running down the side of his shaft and he swears, he's never felt this amazing before. He's about to explode just looking at you!

"Mmh," you hum around him, sending beautiful vibrations through his cock and all the way down to his balls.

"Look at you," he groans sinfully and notices how you clench your thighs together when he reaches forwards and strokes your cheek, "such a good girl for me, sweetheart. Are you getting all wet as you suck my cock?"

"Mmh," you nod with a muffled confirmation as your plump lips slide from base to tip and back down again.

"Ah - shit doll," he hisses while completely giving himself into you as he grabs your chin and strokes you affectionately.

"Mmh, Bucky," you whisper his name so sweetly and move your face so you can lap at his balls.

He throws his head backwards as your tongue stroke over the tight skin while your hand pumps him slowly. "Jesus fuck sweetheart," he moans and puts a finger under your chin forcing you to look back up at him. "Get up here. Now!"

Excitedly, you give him a hard suck before your let go of him with a soft pop and obediently oblige his command by climbing up on the mattress next to him.

"Mmh, look at what you're doing to me," he chuckles and leans in close so he can finally taste your lips again. Immediately, your tongue is inside his mouth and it's so wet and so warm that he grows even harder even though he didn't think it possible.

His hand snakes under your shirt again and you give out a small whine when he pulls it over your head.

"You have no idea how much I've wanted this," he pushes your breasts out of your bra and starts toying with your nipples. "It's crazy," he mumbles as he lies you down on the mattress and sucks your perky nipples between his lips, swirling his tongue around the bud.

Immediately, you arch your back and give out a sinful moan that reverberates through the dimly lit room and vibrates around his tighter than ever balls.

"Tell me what you want," he whispers against your skin and moves to the other nipple while his hand finds your panties underneath your white skirt. "God, you're already so wet for me," he whimpers and pushes his fingers underneath the hem of the soaked fabric so he can touch your warm skin.

"All for you," you arch your back and moan when he pushes two fingers inside of you, moving them rhythmically so they squelch and squeeze around your g-spot. You whimper and close your eyes, enjoying the sensations he's sending through your body, the tingle of warm flames that lick at the bottom of your spine.

"Tell me what you want, sweetheart," he repeats and licks your neck, "You deserve it."

"I want you inside of me," you moan and tug at his hair, the sensation deliciously toeing the line between pleasure and pain.

"You want me to fuck you?" He whispers and drags his teeth over your collarbone while his fingers pulsate inside of you.

"Yes!" You whine and pull at his hair again as a particularly loud moan escapes you.

"Oh sweetheart," he groans when his fingers slide out of you to the tune of a disappointed little whimper falling from your open mouth. "Don't worry, I'll fill you up," he kisses your collarbone and looks down between your sweating bodies as he lines himself up with your entrance and pushes himself half inside, giving himself a second to get used to the tightness that you provide. "Oh god," he whispers and pushes himself a little further inside, "fuck you're so sexy!"

"Fuck me, Bucky," you reach up and caress his chin as you wrap your legs around his waist, digging your heels into his ass and pushing him closer to you.

Suddenly, he's buried to the hilt. "Fuck me," he whispers and starts moving rhythmically to the sound of you squelching around him. "You are so fucking sexy!" He bites your nipples again, moving his hips slowly, sensually. "It's been so goddamn frustrating pretending that I'm not attracted to you when all I've been wanting to do is fuck you in every possible position around the compound."

"Yeah, think of what the others would say if they knew about this."

He gives out a whimper and can feel himself twitching inside of you at the thought before he starts rutting his hips faster, his hips snapping relentlessly into yours.

"You like that?" You smile naughtily and grab his ass, "you like that you're not supposed to fuck me?"

"Yes," he admits with a grunt and rolls his hips sensually, desperate for more friction.

"You like that I'm so young?" You clench tightly around him. "Wow, imagine what Sam would say! He would be so angry, you know that!"

"Fuck!" He gasps and falls forwards so his metal hand lands beside your head. He's close now, he can feel how every muscle of his body tenses up and he knows he just needs a few more snaps of his hips and he's coming - so he pulls out.

Panting relentlessly, he looks down at his throbbing dick, concentrating hard on not cumming all over the beautiful woman in front of him who's still whining and begging for his touch. "Not yet, not yet, not yet," he pants to himself and takes a deep breath before looking back at you. "Shit, you are so beautiful," he licks his lips and fixates his glance on your tiny fingers disappearing inside yourself.

Without thinking, he immediately falls to his knees on the floor beside the mattress and starts planting small, peppery kisses to the insides of your legs. You're soaking wet, moist all the way down your thighs, and he scratches his beard along the soft skin as he pushes your small fingers away, instead introducing his own digits and tongue to your swollen clit. "Mmh, baby," he mumbles against your wet skin and licks you all the way from hole to clit, giving the latter a hard suck that have you trembling above him.

You're tugging at his hair with one hand, pinching your nipples with the other as you arch your back and moan his name in time with the fingers he's thrusting in and out of you while lapping at your sex.

"Bucky, I'm so close," you whimper with eyes closed, your chest rising and falling in steady beats underneath your soaked nipples.

"Come for me," he whispers against your skin and ruts his hips into nothing while his fingers and tongue are working you expertly.

Your moans are rising in pitch and he can feel how you clench more and more around his fingers until it's so tight he's almost pushed out of you. "Bucky!" You half-moan,  half-scream as you fall over the edge burying your fingers in his hair and - oh God, he's cumming too!

Without even being touched, cum is shooting out of him and pattering all over the linoleum flooring below his knees while his fingers and tongue are buried inside of you, and you pull so sweetly at his hair in desperation.

"Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!" He grunts and ruts his hips into thin air as he keeps cumming even after you've released your hard grip around his hair. "Oh my god," he shoots back his head and can feel a drop of sweat trickling down his temple when he finally comes down from his high again. "Oh shit, oh fuck! Sweetheart, I - I just came all over your floor."

"It's okay," you smile blissfully and remove your fingers from his scalp, "I'll clean it up before... shit, SAM!" your sit up straight, eyes wide with horror. "Shit!" you hiss again and immediately scramble to the floor, looking at your watch and collecting your clothes from all over the room. "I have Sam coming for a massage in three minutes!"

"Not the kind of massage I just had, I hope" Bucky sniggers and quickly wipes up his cum with the towel he'd used to cover his erection.

"Don't worry, those are reserved just for you," you chuckle and pull your shirt over your head.

"I sure hope so," Bucky smiles boyishly and dresses quickly, stealing several glances over at you as you fix your makeup in the mirror in the corner. "Does - does Sam get erections when he's here?" he asks. He cannot help himself, he has to know. The thought alone has his guts squeeze uncomfortably at his insides.

"Are you kidding me? Sam sees me as a little sister, he would never!"

"Yeah, true," Bucky chuckles in relief and pulls on his shoes, "...Hey, uh, I don't know about you, but I really enjoyed this."

"Me too," you turn around and smile blissfully at him, "very much."

"You wanna - you wanna do it again?"

"Yeah," you snigger and lean your hip against the table he had you naked upon no more than a couple of minutes ago, "yeah, I wanna do this again! I think maybe fixing your thigh is gonna be a long process!"

"Yeah?" He smiles broadly at the joking expression you're wearing, "Same time tomorrow then?"

"God, yes! Can't wait," you laugh and give out a happy sigh as you cutely bite your lower lip. "Now run along before Sam comes barging in!" you chuckle, "I thought you wanted to keep this secret."

"Yeah... at least for a little while," he shrugs and feels his head go dizzy when you smile broadly at him.

"See you later, Barnes."

"See you sweetheart," he chuckles and winks at you before he's out the door.

As soon as he steps into the cold hallway, he's met by a sour looking Sam who's occupying one of the chairs outside your office, his arms crossed firmly around his chest as he angrily stares at Bucky. "How long have you been here?"

"I came ten minutes early," Sam hisses through gritted teeth and Bucky can almost see the angry fumes radiating from his friend's scalp. "- what the hell was that?"

"What?"

"Bucky, you better not be doing what I think you just did in there!"

"I have no idea what you're talking about."

"Man, what the hell is the matter with you?" Sam stands up, his angry vein already popping threateningly above his temple.

"What? You're the one who said I should go see her!"

"Yeah! For a massage!"

"I did get a massage!"

"Jesus Christ, Bucky! You're old enough to be her granddad!"

Weirdly enough, it just turns him on even more.

Tagging: @natbarnes1917 @summerofsnowflakes @randomfandompenguin @goldylions @anxietyandtacos @maggiebuchanan @justsebstan @eddiestrash @crushedbyhyperbole @buckysdollforlife @getofffmydick @fromfoolishpeopletodeadpeople @wermoewe

#bucky barnes kinktober #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes x reader #bucky kinktober #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes #needy bucky #tfatws #sebastian stan #bucky imagine #bucky x y/n #bucky x female reader #bucky x you #bucky x reader #winter soldier #kinktober 2022

[mslanna]

Raphael reacting to his little mouse, who refuses to sign a contract that binds their soul to him, bowing or kneeling before him, taking one of his hands (for a moment he thinks - or maybe hopes - that they will place a kiss on the back of his hand), and declaring their allegiance to him, swearing to fight for and defend him with their life if need be. "I am already bound to you. No contract required." That is when he finally, finally recognizes the way they look at him, that it is with love and adoration but tinged with the belief that it will never be reciprocated, because it is how he gazes at them when nobody is looking.

No Deal

Also up on AO3

As a small favour, the Crown of Karsus fell into the Chionthar when Tav defeated the Netherbrain. It gave Raphael time to consider what offer to make when they came to deliver it. His little mouse proved to be quite capable, even more so than he had expected. It was time to bind them to him. Forever.

All he had to do was arrange the offer perfectly. If he said forever, he meant it. Tav would not die in his service. And as a result, their soul would never be forfeit. A prefect setup for his wary paladin. In return, well in return Tav would stay by his side, fight with him, rule with him. And in the long run – be his entirely.

The meeting was planned to the last. Not in the House of Hope where his debtors – or worse incubus – might interfere. Raphael prepared the room he rented in Sharess' Caress. Tav spoke up about the rose petals last they met. There would be rose petals again – plenty and fragrant.

Wine of similar qualities, of a dark red that lay in the goblets like thick velvet. A choice of chocolates, pastries, and savoury snacks. It looked like a seduction but if that was what it took to seal a deal with his mouse, Raphael would. His. The word echoed in his mind. A promise. A future.

Korrilla kept an eyes on Tav while they searched the river for his prize. She let him know immediately when Tav found is and Raphael was ready. He checked his new outfit in the mirror a last time. Black and red – a true prince of the hells. Soon to be king. All that was missing in his perfect future was the crown and companion.

Both walked through his door mere moments later. Raphael's prefect vision dissolved, pooling at Tav's feet with the water dripping from their clothes and hair. They hadn't even stopped to dry themself. As undignified as Tav looked, the fact they could not wait to present him his prize filled Raphael with pride.

"Come in," he gestured with half a bow.

Tav looked around, acutely aware of the dirty river water they trailed behind. They avoided the rose petals as if the water would hurt them. Raphael smiled to himself. Such consideration. Soon to be all his.

With an apologetic smile, Tav raised the crown in his direction. "Sorry for being late. The river…" The sentence trailed off.

"No need for apologies. You are true to your words as I knew you would be." He smiled, a reassuring sight on his human form. "And I appreciate your efforts and – eagerness to present their success. Your success and mine." He lowered his voice.

The effect on Tav was unmistakable. They tensed and shrunk back a little. Not what he had hoped for, but he'd work with it. "Maybe you want to clean and warm up before we continue?" He gestured at the pool behind him, heating the water with a wave of his hand.

Tav froze on the spot and fire rushed into their cheeks.

"Ah, human shame." Raphael shook his head slightly. "What an interesting, if useless, concept. I can leave you to it. No need to be uncomfortable."

Surprisingly, Tav did not jump at the opportunity. After a few moments watching the mortal stutter and writhe Raphael had mercy. "Have it your way. Come," he beckoned them, "let us fulfil the deal."

Slowly Tav crossed the room. Raphael smelled the filth of the river on them. This was a lot less glamorous than his plans, Still, when his mouse stopped before him, Raphael bent his knee and offer his head. This, at least, he would have.

After a short hesitation, Tav raised the crown and placed it gently on his head. The weight settled reassuringly on his head and Raphael felt the power coursing through it. Half his perfect future secured. He opened his eyes and met Tav's gaze – thoughtful and soft. A hint of sadness hanging back, almost obscured by their smile.

"Join me." Raphael took Tav's hand as he rose. "Join me and my victorious rule over the nine hells."

Tav blinked but didn't pull their hand away. "You – want me to stick around?"

The uncertainty in their voice wounded Raphael. He had been open about his appreciation, had he not? Generous with praise and lavish in his offers. "You have proven yourself invaluable, have you not? And I would hate to lose my favourite client."

"Oh." Something changed in the way Tav held themself.

Raphael pressed on, unwilling to lose the momentum and, with it, his little mouse. "There is no need for us to part ways. I have need of capable hands like yours. Loyalty like yours," he added quickly to stop the sagging of their shoulders. "There is none to be had in the hells, but you, little mouse," Raphael took their chin between his fingers, "you I trust."

Colour returned to Tav's cheeks as they cast down their eyes. "A bodyguard? A counsellor?"

"All that and more." He nudged Tav's face to make them look at him. "Immortality in my service for the price of your soul."

Tav didn't answer, didn't move.

Raphael conjured the contract. "You cannot die in my service, but only if you do, your soul is mine. We work together. Forever."

Finally, Tav retracted their hand from his grip. Their eyes searched his face but didn't seem to find what they were looking for. With a sigh, they sank to their knees, taking his hand as he had done before. "I don't need a contract, Raphael. I am yours to command, to fight or defend, with all my prowess and needs be with my life."

Taken aback, Raphael stared down at the mortal. This was unexpected and he didn't deal in the unexpected. He was a devil of the most cunning kind. He held all the cards. He pulled out the rug under his counterparts.

But Tav looked up, eyes deep and dark. A gentle resignation swimming under the intense gaze. "I am bound to you already, Raphael. No contract required." Tav smiled sadly. "No contract desired."

"What is it your desire?" Raphael's heart skipped when Tav gazed down at his hand shortly. But only their eyes alighted on it. Regrettably. And now, that his little mortal looked up at him again, he recognised the resignation for what it was. The stumbling, the hesitation, the stuttering faced with him.

Not fear, not even reluctance. Tav didn't even struggle with their feelings for him but the knowledge that their one-sided affection would doom them. And that they wouldn't mind. Tav's answer needed no words, so intense was their gaze. Raphael smiled, more than victory burning in his veins.

He pulled Tav upright, cradling their hand in his and pressing a soft kiss onto its back. "Say no more." The contract vanished in a flash of hellfire. His. Without a contract. Bound by forces the hells could never combat. Ready to be devoured, if only they were not covered in filthy river water.

Raphael took a step back and looked his mouse over. Still dripping. Still smelly. But now lit from within by fires hotter than Avernus. His. He growled another kiss over Tav's hand before letting go.

"Still, I will not have you die in my service." He placed his hand over Tav's heart and head, anchoring the magic in their body. The mortal shivered under his touch, a temptation and a promise. Raphael smiled. His. It was a good day to start his future as archdevil supreme.

"I – I think I'll have that bath now," Tav sighed, exhaustion overpowering them.

"As you wish." With a snap of his fingers Raphael heated the water again and floated wine and food to the side of the pool. "Let me know when you are done."

"Oh, I think you will now when I'm done." Tav grabbed his hand and dragged him towards the steaming water.

#bg3 #bg3 raphael #raphael x tav #bg3 fanfiction #sleazy second-hand car dealer #mel writes fanfic #writing prompt #anon answered

[teecupangel]

Submitted by @saberamane​

After seeing that chinchilla Desmond ask, it reminded me of my first impression upon encountering the ferox in Ark survival evolved, Genesis part 1. I know it has a cat/fox like face and kind of red panda tail and monkey-ish body but, my first experience with it was in game, as I hadn’t watched the trailer. And I thought it was a mutated chinchilla…

Saying that! A Ferox! Desmond au would be amazing. He’s small and cute, doing cute little hops to beg for treats, and then he’s a 7 foot tall wolf-gorilla thing capable of tearing your head off your body…

I just have a picture of guards angrily breaking into an ancestor’s house (like the Auditore villa at the start of AC2) and finding this cute…thing just sitting on the other side of the door, wagging it’s tail, and then they watch in horror as it suddenly grows, up and up, and up.

And then there’s nothing but screams…

================================

Additions by teecup

For those unfamiliar with what a Ferox look like, here you go:

Desmond would probably spend quite a lot of time trying to get used to his new body, especially his newly acquired four arms so he’d be a bit of a klutz too. And he’d be super surprised when he first transforms into his other form but also ‘hell yeah!’.

Desmond would just be a fluffy sweet bunny? Fox? Cat? No one knows (and Leonardo is trying to understand what he is) but that doesn’t really matter since Desmond is more or less docile and just likes to eat and cuddle. Not being liked by him would make a person a social pariah XD

So we have an idea of how Desmond could screw up AC2 (also, he can totally protect Monteriggioni by going on a rampage on the papacy army, although this might start a rumor of Monteriggioni having a demon as an attack dog) and Desmond could easily thwart Charles Lee’s plan to burn down Ratonhnhaké:ton’s village by going ham on them either while staying with Kaniehtí:io that day or by transforming and ‘taking care’ of the soldiers before Charles Lee could even hurt Ratonhnhaké:ton.

Now, the most common setup would be for Desmond to be Altaïr’s pet but may I suggest an alternative: Desmond as baby Sef’s pet? Sef found him while he and Darim are playing (maybe they were even able to sneak out of Masyaf) and he brought him back because Desmond doesn’t recognize Sef but he looks a lot like Altaïr so he just makes soft purring sounds as he put all his arms in the air in the universal gesture of ‘pick me up’ and Sef does. 

His transformation is kept a secret and Altaïr thinks Desmond might have mutated with the use of a POE. He’s still more or less Sef’s pet even though Desmond likes to follow Altaïr around when Sef isn’t in Masyaf. 

So when Swami tried to assassinate Sef in his sleep, Desmond is curled on top of Sef’s chest and he jumped down, staring at Swami. 

Swami’s eyes widened as Desmond transformed right in front of him and he let out a scream that gets drowned by Desmond’s roar.

Sef immediately wakes up to see Desmond pinning Swami against the floor and Sef knew that something fishy is certainly going on. Even though Swami is babbling that it was his father who ordered for his death, Sef doesn’t believe him.

First of all: His father wouldn’t order for this death. Of all the things Altaïr Ibn-La'Ahad might and might not be, his love for his family will never be questioned.

Second of all: Even if Altaïr wanted him dead, he wouldn’t pick someone like Swami to kill him, that’s insulting. (At this point, both Swami and Desmond just stare at Sef because, yeah, he might be nicer and sweeter than his father but the Ibn-La'Ahad arrogance seems to be hereditary).

“Third of all…” Sef looked at Desmond and grinned, “Shall we get some exercise, Desmond?”

Desmond roared his agreement and…

That day, the conspiracy against Altaïr’s family and allies was thwarted by a large monster. Many of Abbas’ supposed allies squealed like pigs and admitted everything while being pinned down by said monster.

Malik drowned in paperwork that day.

#submission #you know what? #i am still tagging this as #desmond is turned into an animal subgenre #ferox is fictional but still an animal #fuck i should have made the tag #desmond is turned into a creature subgenre #to cover more grounds XD #desmond as a ferox #teecup writes/has a plot #fic idea: assassin's creed #desmond miles #ezio auditore #ratonhnhaké:ton #connor kenway #altaïr ibn la'ahad #sef ibn la'ahad #swami

[capybaraonabicycle]

Omg I will of course leave the final fic choice up to you, but doesn't "True hate’s kiss (only kissing your enemy can break a curse)" sound like the perfect setup to a Twissy fic 👀

Thank you, love!

~1.5 k words, so much for "let me just write 5 sentences for you real quick". But it's, of course, because you are right, this prompt was made for twissy 🥰

I have not actually read this again, so beware. But here you go :)

[ID: gif of Missy's face in close up, smiling down like she is pitying someone mockingly. end ID]

“Can't you move a bit faster?”

If silly little companion pulled on her sleeve any more roughly, he was going to lose that new hand of his. Or maybe his nose, she wasn't really picky. The nose might taste better, Missy mused. She was quite sure it was the original one and not some cyborg-technology the Doctor had partly scavenged, partly cooked up himself. But that reasoning implied she had paid attention to the egg-head's babblings and she had a general policy never to do that.

It was lucky, comic relief had paid closer attention to her, however, because she didn't even need to voice her threat. Breathing out her nose audibly and baring her teeth sufficed easily and he squeaked, jumped, dropped her hand and hurried on a few inches further away from her.

“I am a time lady, snickerdoodle” she drawled, making a point of walking a tad more measuredly instead of hurrying up. “I always walk at the exact right speed.”

The Doctor's snack had the audacity to huff but he wisely chose not to talk back.

“It- it is just” he stuttered instead, “the Doctor, he is -”

“-dying?” she finished, already bored. “That's his usual Thursday, pup.”

“He asked for you!” the idiot-in-training blurted out and despite herself, Missy stopped and blinked.

“He did?” Now that were exciting news for a change. A bright smile grew on her face, simultaneously with the rising panic in plucky assistant's eyes.

“He said you could save him” he whispered, somehow managing to have his voice creak when he wasn't even properly using it.

“He did?” Missy repeated and by now her smile was positively giddy. Eggy started whimpering softly.

Missy didn't give him time to gather his bearings, instead grabbing his arm forcefully in turn, making him jump again. She brought her face close to his for good measure, revelling at the terror in his expression.

“Why. Didn't. You. Say. So. Immediately?” she asked, her voice stuck on the same note throughout the words, too high, too cheerful to be anything but disconcerting. “Hurry up, pet: I've got a day to save!”

He shuddered away from her and picked up the pace again, not looking back. But this time she was right there with him, excitement surging through her veins. The Doctor was in actual danger, helpless, pathetic and he had asked for her. Because he loved her. Because he needed her. And – most importantly – she would get to gloat. Once she had saved him. Which she obviously would. No matter what idiotic thing he had done, her silly sausage, she would get him up and running in no-time. She was his best friend, after all. His very best friend.

They reached the Doctor's office only a few minutes later, and Missy immediately noticed how serious the situation was. The psychic waves coming from him were all over the place – and not in the fun, chaotic way they usually were – they usually were a lot subtler as well, some things he had learnt in his thousand years of spacetravel – they were hurtful almost, full of pain and distress. She knew he was lying on the ground before she saw him, knew he was still conscious, too, even though his other little munch was convinced of the opposite. Missy paid her little mind how she was sitting on the floor with him, crying and mumbling affirmations. She only got in the way, really, with the way she was cradling the Doctor's head in her lap, she couldn't help him after all.

“I am here, oh, apple of my eye” Missy exclaimed dramatically, dropping to the floor at his side with great flourish.

“I don't, I don't think, he can hear you” girl-companion hiccuped through her tears, but Missy waved her interjection away.

“Of course he can, silly-billy” she huffed, reaching for the Doctor's hand that had come to lie on his stomach. She pressed it to her chest, holding on tightly.

“I am here” she whispered. “Tell me, Doctor, what do you need?”

Oh, she liked playing the hero. Being the one who held the Doctor's life in their hands. Being the one everyone looked at with those worshippy, wide eyes. She thought, right now, she could fathom why he had gotten addicted to it.

“We think he got cursed” supplementary fuss said behind her back. “We were on Tigella, and there was this sceptre. The Doctor touched -”

The last of the words died in his throat when Missy whirled around to him.

“Do you know what you're talking about?” she asked sweetly, but didn't give him a chance to answer. “No, you don't. So shut up before I change my mind and make a nice soup out of the three of you instead of helping. - okay?”

She fluttered her eyelids to emphasize the point and his mouth snapped shot, his jaw tightening.

“Thank you, much appreciated.” Missy turned towards the Doctor again, nearing her ear to his mouth. “Doctor, what do you need?”

“I need -” he rasped and french-fries-friendywend gasped when she heard him speak, almost making Missy miss his next words. Did these bumbling humans ever learn? “- a kiss. From – my worst enemy.”

“Awww” Missy bit her lip, drawing back. He needed his arch-enemy! And he had thought of her. “How very touching! I am so honoured, I am not even gonna bargain.”

He didn't answer or open his eyes, but there was a pleased twitch around his mouth that made her press his hand.

“I have to say though, Doctor,” she purred, leaning in again, “if you wanted for me to kiss you, there would have been easier ways to ask than going through the trouble of getting cursed.”

Now he snorted and measured by the state he was in, this tiny bit of banter was the greatest love confessions out of all the ones he had bestowed upon her today already.

“Come on, now - “ he coughed, “Missy. You would – have never – been content with – any – thing less – elaborate.”

“True” she smirked. She was hovering right above him now. “And I appreciate the effort, darling.”

His lips moved, searching hers, and she waited just another second, savouring the moment. Then human-thingy coughed pointedly and she drew it out yet another second, simply to antagonise her. But his breath was getting visibly shallower and there was a slight tremble in his hand. Plus, his lips looked chapped like burnt Earth and just as inviting. So, finally, she led their mouths together, her hand slipping across the extra's leg to support his head.

The moment their lips touched, it was like the life flooded back into him, his mouth's movement becoming more purposeful and his tongue meeting hers cordially when she slipped it past his teeth. His free hand even twitched, like he was trying to grasp her frock.

Of their own accord, Missy's eyes closed and for a moment she lost herself in the feeling of their lips meeting, the familiar taste of his tongue, the desperate way his breath fanned her chin and cheek, reminiscent of many breathless nights spent together, oh so long ago.

But then, his movement slowed, a distressed sound escaping his throat. Before Missy could decide whether to draw back – finally killing the Doctor by kissing him to death would have been an end she could have deemed worthy of their friendship – a rough hand was on her shoulder, pulling her away from him. She hissed and whirled around, biting hard into the offending limp. So, the sniveller had decided he didn't need this body part, after all, it seemed.

He cried out, pulling his hand away from her mouth with a pathetic whine. Missy spat out some blood and fake skin with a huff. It tasted as horribly as she had expected.

“What did you do that for?” he sobbed.

“Don't touch me, crybaby” she huffed, turning back around to the Doctor.

He was still lying motionless, if possible even paler now.

“Why didn't this work?” his pillow croaked, close to tears again. Missy drew her eyebrows together in agreement. Indeed. Why hadn't it? It should have worked, she had been supposed to save the day!

For some reason, the Doctor was smiling. Mind, it was barely visible, frail as he was, but Missy could read his face like a book in every incarnation and that so was his satisfied smile.

“Seems like,” he mumbled, “we aren't – strictly – enemies anymore, love.”

“Of course, we are, don't be stupid” she pressed out. Only now she noticed how desperately she was clutching his hand, it was almost like she was trying to imitate spare-parts over at the door who was licking his own injured paw.

“Don't smile” she told the Doctor off, and she was sounding more serious than she had any right to be. “You are dying and I am your enemy. You don't get to smile at that.”

She was sure, if he had had any strength left, his smile would have grown now.

“I am – sorry, Missy” he breathed instead, “but I must – ask you – to fetch – Da – Davros.”

Missy felt her mouth drop open in shock and humiliation. Davros? Fucking Davros got to save her Doctor??

This was rock bottom.

Thank you for reading, I hope it is about what you envisioned <3

#missy #missy doctor who #twissy #thoschei #twelfth doctor #12th doctor #nardole #bill potts #doctor who #doctor who fanfic #doctor who fanfiction #reversed tropes #this has way more Nardole and Bill than I planned #and somehow LESS 12 #but anyway #writing Missy is always fun <3 #I would say this is somewhen vaguely around empress of mars #probably slightly before #can they find davros? probably not but who cares #it's not what missy will do anyway I guess #she will probably go fetch a certain prime minister or something #no one is saving (kissing) the Doctor on her watch who isn't her

[integra1127grimmreaper]

Mr. Grinch (Joel Miller)

Joel Miller Masterlist

Warning: swearing, fluff

Summary: A little Christmas story inspired by Lindsey Stirling's version of - You're A Mean One, Mr. Grinch.

Mr. Grinch... that was what everyone had nicknamed Joel after just one day in Jackson last year, when he and Ellie had first set foot in the community last winter. Now, one year later, and another winter in yet the nickname still stuck. You found the entire thing to be quite amusing; yes, Joel could be grumpy and sometimes comes off as just plain mean, but there were good, loyal qualities to him, ones that only those dearests to him were witness to. So, that's why to make lightly of the nickname, you had decided to do something fun about it in the annual Christmas eve pageant.

You had come across an old burlesque record sometime back, the beat of the music perfect for what you had planned. Your outfit; a cute red winter dress, green tights and Santa hat.

The pageant was taking place in the mess hall, as the Christmas eve community dinner was to be taking place immediately thereafter. A small stage had been erected in the hall, with tablets setup for all to enjoy the show and dinner after.

The hall rang out with whistles and cheers when you made your way to stage, everyone soon quiets down, and the music begins to play.

*

You're a mean one, Mr. Grinch You really are a heel You're as cuddly as a cactus As charming as an eel, Mr. Grinch You're a bad banana with a greasy black peel

The room was eerily silent as you comically performed on stage whilst singing; everyone knew exactly where you were going with the chosen song. You on the other hand, were having a field day with it, as people's eyes kept jumping back and forth between you and the table you were clearly trained on during the entire performance.

*

You're a monster, Mr. Grinch (Mr. Grinch) Your heart's an empty hole Your brain is full of spiders You've got garlic in your soul, Mr. Grinch

You're a vile one, Mr. Grinch (Mr. Grinch) You have termites in your smile You have all the tender sweetness of a seasick crocodile, Mr. Grinch Now given the choice between the two of you I'd take the seasick crocodile Seasick crocodile

"Shit, it's you!" Ellie bawls out in realization, but you continue like nothings amiss. Everyone nervously stares back at the table as she chuckles out loudly then.

"The song is about you, Joel! You're Mr. Grinch!"

"Now, Ellie... don't be looking for trouble where there ain't none" Tommy attempts to neutralize the situation before things got out of hand.

"Nuh-uh..." Ellie retorts with a stiff head shake, hollering out then.

"See! I fuckin' told you! She just winked at him!"

The sounds of gasps ringing out at her words, as everyone braced themselves for your impending demises at the hands of the man you were clearly referring to in the song. He, on the other hand sat dangerously silent, as his dark narrowed gaze remained fixed on you as the performance continues.

"Ellie..." Tommy drawls out in annoyance, and then it happened.

"She blew him a kiss!" Ellie screams, griping onto Joel's shoulder; shaking him back and forth in excitement.

"Wait. What?" an open-mouthed Tommy stares at you on the stage.

*

The words that best describe you are stink, stank, stunk (Ooh) No, no, no Stink, stank, stunk Oh, Mr. Grinch Mr. Grinch...

The music ends and the room is filled with nothing but awkward silence, Tommy silently eyes Joel; preparing himself to have to stop his brother from strangling you in front of the entire Jackson community. Ellie then jumps out from her seat and starts cheering loudly and you chuckle out, taking a dramatic bow.

"Now, Joel..." Tommy attempts to divert his attention away from you as you step down from the stage.

Everyone sat with bated breath as you made your way toward Joel's table with a cocky smirk plastered on your lips.

"Joel" Tommy warns, jumping up to stop him when he gets up, but Ellie and Maria hold him back.

"What hell are ya two doing?!"

"Wait" Maria remarks as you and Joel meet each other in the centre of the room.

Placing a hand on your hip and cocking your head to the side; you smirk at him whilst striking a pose.

"Hey there, Mr. Grinch..."

Joel's eyes narrow to tight slits as he silently grinds his teeth whilst staring down at you for a second. Silent gasps ring out when he steps closer to you, reaching out to take the Santa hat off your head; Joel plops it onto his own, a broad smirk spreads across his lips as he pulls you flushed against him.

"Hi, Baby..." Joel drawls, tipping down to capture your lips in a deep kiss.

"What the fuck...?!" Tommy voice rings out, along with loudly gasps of surprise.

"Knew they were fucking long before this, FYI..." Ellie remarks smugly, causing both Tommy and Maria to scowl at her disapprovingly.

"What?" she shrugs at them.

"He's always looking at her all-googly-eyed... and she's even worse. Also caught him from my bedroom window; sneaking out of her house and back home in the early hours of the morning when no one's awake."

Joel and you chuckle into each other's mouths at her words, resting your foreheads against one another's with broad smiles.

You had your suspicious of her knowledge, but both had decided to keep your relationship a secret till now. Finally deciding after four months that it was time to make it public, as a matter of fact; it was Joel who had come with the idea of your performance when you had let him in on the town nickname for him.

What the residents didn't know; was that even with only one good ear, Joel had still managed to pick up on the word 'Grinch' being softly uttered whenever he was around. He wasn't too keen on it at first, not till you had told him that you found it to be a cute name for him. That 'How The Grinch Stole Christmas' had been one of your favorite Christmas movies as a child. That in the end Mr. Grinch wasn't as bad as everyone believed him to be just lonely and misunderstood, with a heart of gold hidden underneath all that grumpiness, just as your Joel.

When you playfully performed the Mr. Grinch song for him, Joel found it utterly amusing and that's how you came to be performing it tonight. Proving to everyone that your Mr. Grinch wasn't as bad as everyone believed him to be.

"C'mon Baby..." Joel slings his arm around your shoulder and directing you towards the table.

"Lead the way, Mr. Grinch..." you pat his ass affectionally, causing him to chuckle yet again as the rest of Jackson stared at the two of you weirdly. 

#joel miller #joel x reader #joel x you #the last of us #joel tlou #pedro pascal

[kib-ble]

ok so im here again i hope u still have requests open SO:

lets say konig gets back from a mission RIGHT? andd since its hes busy with missions he forgets its his birthday. ok and he comes home and reader surpises him :') WITH A CAKE AND EVERYTHING

maybe a pet cat or dog as a present??? who knows 😋

(i personally see him as both a cat and dog person)

YES ABSOLUTELY YES OMG

THIS IS SO FUCKING CUTEEE I CANTTTT

*ps, all translations were made in google translate, if they’re wrong, i apologize!!*

(könig x reader)

the amount of decorations you had managed to put up in the span of 2 hours was quite surprising. the other hour you spent making sure a cake would be ready when könig got home. he was unexpectedly put on leave and he had texted you to let you know since it would most likely be dark by the time he got home.

the small cat you had picked out from the animal shelter sat on his small bed next to the couch, watching the balloons move in the air.

the smell of the take out you got for the both of you wafted through the air, making you hungry and the small cake you got with the correct number of candles to match his age sat on the counter.

he told you he’d be home in about half an hour, giving you time to fix any small details in the decorations you could find. the food was laid nicely on the table and you put the cat back in the carrier ti surprise him later.

with your back turned away from the door and you too focused on the table setup, you never noticed the door open and close. you did notice, however, the sound of a large bag hitting the floor, which made you turn around. you were supposed to have 10 minutes left before he came home.

konigs brown eyes looked around at all the decorations that surrounded you. his hands took off his mask as he walked over to you, pulling you into a tight hug.

“schatz..” his voice broke and he pulled you tighter to him, “you didn’t have to do all this..”

you pulled away slightly to look at his face. some tears swarmed his eyes as he looked into yours, a smile had appeared aswell, making you smile.

“anything for my king.”

konig pulled your face close, pressing his lips softly against yours. the kiss lasted a while with both of you pulling apart breathless.

“why don’t you get changed and i’ll grab your present, then we can eat?”

“you got me a present?” his eyes lit up once again, earning a small laugh from you.

“yes, but you need to get changed in order to get it.”

konig nodded then quickly rushed to get changed. you grabbed the cat carrier from the other room, setting it on a chair where it would be hidden from konig until you gave it to him.

he came back soon, all changed and comfy. “couch. sit. close your eyes please.”

he sat in the couch, closing his eyes. you grabbed the carrier and set it next to him. “open.”

his eyes opened to see the small black carrier. his hand opened the door and the kitten came out almost immediately.

“oh, honig (honey, i didn’t know that either).” konig picked up the call then placed him on his lap. the kitten snuggled into him, purring as konig scratched behind his ears.

“i can’t believe you remembered..” he spoke quietly.

“remembered you liked cats or remembered your birthday?”

“my birthday.. even i forgot.”

you sat next to him on the couch, holding onto his arm as your head dropped onto his shoulder. “baby, i would never forget. i love you so much.”

“i love you too, schatz”

“happy birthday konig.”

“thank you.” he kissed your head, then laid his ontop of yours.

“oh! i almost forgot.” jumping off the couch and running to the kitchen, your grabbed the cake. konig stood and watched you, still holding his new kitten. “surprise!” you held the cake down so he could see the writing, ‘happy birthday, king!’

he continued to smile as he watched you set the cake back down. slowly, he made his way toward you, setting the cat down in the process, and picking you up, holding you as close as possible to him. “danke meine, liebe”

(thank you, my love)

#cod mwii x reader #kibble writes cod #call of duty x reader #call of duty #call of duty modern warfare #konig modern warfare #könig x reader #cod x reader #reader x könig #cod konig

[alyssajennwrites]

Fireworks ~ Quackity x Y/n

Quackity x f!reader

TW: Fireworks (Loud noises), cursing, fluff

Note: In 1st person. I’m sorry if your tall but for the sake of the story the reader is short. Also, it doesn’t really mention it but Y/n is around Quackity’s age (just wanted to say that so you didn’t get confused).

Remember: D/n = Discord name, S/n = Ship name, N/n = Nickname

Summary: Y/n meets up with the dspm gang for the first time. But things take a slight turn in the wrong direction when Tommy not only sets off fireworks, but when he also sets off Y/n’s fear of loud noises.

A/N: I know it’s not the Fourth of July but I’ve had this idea for forever so I wanted to write it.

Word Count: 2,015

༺𝓞𝓷𝓮 𝓦𝓲𝓽𝓱 𝓣𝓱𝓮 𝓢𝓽𝓸𝓻𝔂༻

“Happy Fourth of July everyone!” Tommy said through the discord as he and the rest of the gang streamed.

I am currently sitting in my room, waiting for Tommy to finish up. He said he’d be done in five minutes, he said that 30 minutes ago. Not gonna lie, he’s kinda a dick sometimes. He’s my best friend, but he’s just irritating sometimes.

I honestly shouldn’t have let him stream from my setup! I don’t know what I was thinking at the time, but I shouldn’t have let him.

“Tommy,” I whined, walking over to him and placing my head on his shoulder. “You told me you would be done 25 minutes ago.”

I gave him a pouty face while trying to get his attention. He looked over in my direction but didn’t look at me. He looked over at the chat.

“Chat! Stop spamming that! Y/n and I are not a couple!” Tommy said, well more as he yelled.

I looked over to see the chat spamming their ship name for us, S/n. When chat first started spamming it, about a year ago, Tommy had freaked out. But now he just yells for the fun of it.

I laugh and put on a headset, pulling the extra microphone over to me.

“Hey chat!” I say waving at the camera even if I feel like a complete idiot doing so. “Tommy? Why isn’t a game pulled up on the computer? Weren’t you playing on the SMP?”

“Well, Mujer Bonita, we don’t have our set up with us at the moment,” I heard Big Q say through the call.

Big Q has a habit of giving me nicknames but saying them in Spanish. At first, I couldn’t understand a word he’d say, but now I know bits and pieces.

“Oh? And why would that be?” I ask.

“You’ll just have to wait and see missy,” He replies.

“Well chat,” Tommy interrupts. “I better end this before Big Q and N/n get into another fight. You know the drill and I really don’t feel like repeating it but check the follow button and I’ll see you later. Bye!”

He immediately ends the stream, but doesn’t disconnect from the discord call. He turns to me, letting out a long breath.

“What? Why are you acting like you need to do something this minute but you don’t want to?” I ask, tilting my head to the side. “Did you forget that you have a college essay due tomorrow?”

I hear a lot of, “Ooo,” coming from the boys still in the call. I laugh, at Tommy’s face.

“You’re never gonna let me live that down are you?” He asks, the corners of his mouth lifting up slightly.

“Do you really expect me to? You had 3 weeks to complete that essay and you put it off until the night before. I’m surprised you even finished it.”

“Tommy, the lady has a point,” Karl jumps in.

I smirk, triumphantly.

“Quit boosting her ego! You should see the look on her face,” Tommy says, somewhat annoyed.

The whole call bursts out laughing and I’m reminded of how much I want to meet them all in person. I’ve only met Tommy in person and he is currently staying over for the next couple of weeks. I really want to see them.

It’s weird, having people know you better than you know yourself. Especially if those people have never met you in real life. Like, take Karl for example, he knows every one of my favorite songs. Though that’s probably because I play and sing them nonstop when on a call with him.

“Alright, alright! Enough! N/n and I have to go. We’ll talk to you idiots later!” Tommy says.

Multiple byes and see ya’s can be heard from the call before Tommy logs off. That’s when he turns back to face me.

“Let’s go before we miss the party.” With that, he pulls me up and begins dragging me to the front door.

“Tommy where are we going?” I ask for about the third time during our little night drive.

“Y/n! I swear! If you fucking ask again I’m gonna turn around and we’re going home. And trust me when I say you’ll not be happy with that!” Tommy says as he takes a corner way too fucking fast.

I sigh, laying back further in my seat. I pull out my phone, opening Discord to find absolutely no messages from my main SMP friends. I frown, both confused and disappointed. That’s when I decide to get their attention.

See, the boys are very protective of me. Me being one of the only girls along with Niki has its perks. So, I text the main chat for our little group of friends.

D/n:

AAAHHHH SAVE MEEEEE

Big Q immediately answers this and I’m not surprised.

Quackity:

Woah! What’s wrong? Are you okay?

KarlJacobs:

You good?

Dream:

Fuck not again…

Tommy looks over when he hears me laugh at the boys’ reaction.

“What do you think you’re doing?” He leans over and looks at my screen. “Hey! Turn that off! No Discord during our trip!” He takes my phone again, placing it on the other side of him where I can’t reach it.

“Tommy… Give me my phone back!” I yell reaching for it.

“No! Get away!” He screams back at me.

“Don’t make me ask again Bitch Boy!”

Tommy playfully gasps, “Okay, now you’re not getting it back!”

I huff, sinking into my seat, defeated. My phone begins vibrating. Over, and over, and over, and over again.

“Damn girl, why do you have Discord notifications on?” Tommy asks, turning on my phone screen. “Holy shit! What did you say to them? I can’t read what they said because of your stupid Face ID, but I can tell that they’re worried.”

“Dude! Eyes on the fucking road!” I say as he drifts into the other lane.

~~~~~

The drive takes another 30 minutes before Tommy turns into a parking lot. I get out of the vehicle, looking around. There is nothing here. I see no party.

“Here you go. Please answer them before they start bugging me,” Tommy says, handing his phone to me and then leaning on the car.

I unlock my phone to see multiple messages from the boys.

Quackity:

N/n? You can’t scream and then not respond to us!

Mujer Bonita? Answer us, please!

Tubbo:

Y/n?

Y/n are you okay?

GeorgeNotFound:

Did she get kidnapped?

KarlJacobs:

No, she didn’t fucking get kidnapped, George!

It goes on like this for a while. So I keep scrolling to find this,

Wilbur:

Have you tried calling her?

Quackity:

No, let me try really quickly!

Wilbur:

You should have tried that first dipshit!

‘Quackity started a call’

’Fifteen missed calls from Quackity’

I sigh,

“Tommy! You took my phone and now the SMP is worried!” I say, playfully slapping his arm.

“Geez! Sorry, I didn’t want them to spill the surprise!” He said.

But before I could even question him, he dragged me towards the one bend in the road at the end of the parking lot. This bend was conveniently wide enough for me not to be able to see the other side.

“Tommy, I don’t like this,” I say, pulling my arm out of his grasp and backing up. “What is going on?”

“Just trust me N/n.” Right after he said that I could feel my phone vibrate.

I unlock my phone, finding that I had a message from Big Q.

Quackity:

Trust him Mujer!

I look up, confused, but either way, I hesitantly reach out my hand to Tommy. Tommy grabs hold of my hand and pulls me around the bend.

I stop short, gasping at the sight in front of me. There was a huge house like tent with lanterns everywhere. There was a walkway with torches lining the path. The tent was illuminated by what I guessed to candles or lanterns. The one thing that stood out to me the most was the crowd of people all talking outside of the tent.

I freed myself from Tommy’s hold and ran down the path to the crowd. As I make my way closer, I see one of the short males turn to face me. I gasp as I recognize the face, freezing when I recognize all the faces in the crowd.

“What…?” I say quietly. “How are you here?”

Tommy comes up behind me, placing a hand on my shoulder.

“Happy Fourth of July Y/n.”

~~~~~

After many hugs and some tears. We all settle down. Me sitting next to Alex on the loveseat. Wilbur sitting on a stool with his guitar, strumming the tune to Your New Boyfriend. And everyone else sitting on the couches and chairs that surround the fire.

I look around at our group, there was Alex, Karl, Wilbur, Dream with a face mask on, George, Tubbo, Tommy, Philza, Niki, and Ranboo who also had a mask on.

They did it. They actually made a get together. And it is the best get together I could have asked for.

Out of no where, Tommy jumps up and yells,

“Time for fireworks bitches!!”

He runs outside, everyone else following. But as I stood up I realized, I hate loud noises. Tommy’s yelling is fine but, fireworks? I’ll have a mental breakdown.

“You okay mi amor?” Alex asked, walking back over to me.

“Mhm,” I say quietly, still looking at the wall.

“Hey…” Alex says quietly, using if hand to gently turn my head to face him. “What’s wrong?”

“Don’t laugh,” I saying, smiling sadly.

“I promise.” He sticks his pinky out for me to link with mine.

I laugh lightly, linking our pinkies in a promise.

“Okay, so…” I take a deep breath. “I’m scared of loud noises.”

Alex looks shocked at that. But he doesn’t laugh. He gives me a small smile and pulls me into a hug. But then suddenly he pulls away.

“How do you handle Tommy’s yelling and screaming them?” He looks worried, but I just chuckle.

“Oh, Tommy’s fine. I know that his yelling is all fun and games,” I reply smiling. “When I first met him though, I almost fell out of my chair because I jumped so hard when he yelled out his welcome.”

“Well, why don’t we go outside with the others?” He asks, stretching his hand out for me to grab.

I hold on, momentarily forgetting my fear. That is, until Tommy set off the first firework and I jump back. Alex immediately looks back to see me sitting on the ground, shaking. He quickly sits down next to me and covers my ears with his hands.

A look of worry, and guilt crossing his face. His hands were warm on my ears, and I couldn’t seem to make myself look away from his eyes. There was something about them that was mesmerizing.

We stayed like that until Tommy had run out of fireworks to light. Alex pulled his hands away from my ears as soon as he was certain that there were no more fireworks. He gently brushed his fingers across my skin, wiping away the tears that had broken free.

“I’m sorry, I should have stopped them sooner,” he whispered.

“It’s fine,” I whispered back.

“Hey! What do you two think you are doing on the ground?” Tommy called out from the distance.

Alex and I both laughed, helping each other off of the ground. We spent the rest of the night laughing and having fun. And Alex couldn’t seem to let go of my hand, but I’m not complaining.

“Wait, were you guys texting me from the same room? And were you in a call with Tommy from the same place?”

I never got an answer, I only got a bunch of laughter.

#mcyt x reader #mcyt x y/n #quackity #quackity x y/n #quackity x reader #mcyt #dsmp x reader

[animehouse-moe]

Chainsaw Man Chapter 138: Sword Man

Classic Fujimoto, entirely inscrutable to the outside eye, changing pace and outlook at the drop of the hat. Closure is a word that I'm sure doesn't exist in their vocabulary at this point as we skip and jump around from place to place in this chapter and expose a lot of information. Really, they drop a lot of stuff, arguably important stuff, in this chapter that I really think will get people wondering.

We first find out that our mystery girl, Fumiko Mifune, is actually a bodyguard placed next to Denji to protect him. A pretty solid surprise for sure, but I think more interesting than that is the personality that she shows now that the jig is up.

The switch flips immediately, and instead of it being all about Denji, it's now all about Chainsaw Man. It's a really interesting piece that doesn't quite elicit a specific emotional response as it does confusion in Denji. The girl that was interested in "him" was only interested in Chainsaw Man. Just a natural extension of Denji's terrible luck with (older) women. Every single one is after only half of him, the piece that resembles him the least, the piece that people want to rob him of. Why is Denji not worthy of love and attention, but Chainsaw Man is? Perhaps that's what confuses Denji in this moment, why everybody looks through him for something that is him.

Anyways, Karaoke Fujimoto.

And now some fun dichotomy between Asa and Yoru. It's quite enjoyable how consistent and committed Fujimoto is to representing Asa and Yoru as separate and opposite entities in comparison to the blurred lines that exist with Denji and Chainsaw Man.

Following that up, I really liked this dialogue/sequence with Asa discussing her popularity. She refuses to be likened to Yoru, so of course she immediately denies the fact that she's drawn in by her fame and popularity. But her story tells readers otherwise. She's the one tuned into the TV broadcast plastering her face across the screen, she's the one that is smiling at seeing how much attention she's getting.

Asa's inability to be honest with herself has long been an established character trait, so I really enjoy seeing it be used in places like this where it can be used to further blur the line between Asa and Yoru, and that despite being setup to be at complete odds with one another, they're slowly assimilating.

And now, for the real bombshells of the chapter. Asa/Yoru's scar is visible to others when Yoru takes control of the body. This is a trait that we've not seen with hybrids up until this point. So, the question is,

Can you call Asa Mitaka a hybrid?

I don't think you can, and here's why. First of all, when a hybrid devil "transforms", they have to directly interact with their body: Denji pulling his cord, Katana Man take his hand off, so on and so forth. Secondly, when a hybrid "returns" to their human form, that excess transformation begins to slough off of their bodies in clumps. Thirdly, it's marked by physical differences to their human body that resemble the fear that they embody. Lastly, the devil inhabits the heart of the hybrid human.

In all situations, Asa and Yoru do not satisfy these criteria. There is no requirement for transformation, nor any physical difference that is gained and removed in the typical fashion, nor is it Asa's heart that's been removed.

By all means, I believe we can properly confirm that what Asa and Yoru are experiencing is symbiosis, where Yoru is a symbiote existing in Asa. The transformation is implicit, Yoru can control Asa (though Asa can wrestle control back), etc. etc. The point being that knowing that the scar is an actual change that is perceived means that Yoru can exert some form of control over the body, but that she can't transform properly like a hybrid. Some might argue that there's potential Yoru is considered a "fiend", but in those the original personality is erased (which is not the case here).

Also, with the confirmation of the scar being visible, a new theory is produced. Not that there's two bodies or anything like that, no it's a much more odd, implicit, and weird thing to try and explain. Yoru is using Asa's old body, while Asa herself occupies the "new" one given to her by Yoru. Yeah, I use old and new even though I said there's not two bodies, but I'm not sure how else to explain it. The scars that are visible directly indicate that Yoru's "body" is the one that she put back together when Asa died. However, Asa's current body does not display any of those scars. I'm unsure what exactly this could mean, but I think there's a lot of potential for some really interesting psychological aspects to emerge.

Anyways, the next massive bombshell: Sword Man. This alone gives the potential for all the other hybrids to still be alive. This means characters like Reze, Quanxi, and others could still exist. Not that we really had a way to confirm that they were dead, but considering they've not shown up until now it's not a crazy thing to have assumed.

At the same time, it also means that there's potential for Sword Man to not actually be sword man. We've seen that it's entirely possible to morph and shapeshift to look exactly like other people, so it's entirely possible that this person is either working with or is the same person that is the imposter Chainsaw Man. That, or they're part of the group that is set on attacking Denji.

Whichever is the truth, it's a big reveal that has pretty dire consequences for the nature of the impending doom of the foretold prophecy.

So overall, the chapter stays pretty far away from Denji's identity crisis regarding Chainsaw Man, and instead establishes some crazily important facts and points within the world to provide the stepping stones for future aspects. Will we find out what Asa and Yoru actually are? Will the existence of Sword Man lead us towards who is the false Chainsaw Man? Will other hybrids make an appearance, is Yoshida pulling strings behind the curtains through all of these moments? Will Denji ever find anybody that likes him for just who he is? Find out, on the next episode of: Chainsaw Man.

#chainsaw man #csm pt 2 #chainsaw man manga #csm manga #chainsaw man part two #chainsaw man part 2 spoilers #csm part 2 #csm part two #csm spoilers #csm denji #csm yoshida #manga recommendation #manga review #anime and manga #manga

[intuitive-revelations]

I need to rewatch that episode at some point to fully digest it, as I was watching with my family, but I have a bit of a theory coming out of it. Granted it might also be wishful thinking, since it's kind-of what I would do if I was in RTD's shoes, but hear me out:

Getting another mention of the Timeless Child arc feels very deliberate, despite (again) the new series obstensibly being a jumping on point for new viewers.

The episode is filled with themes regarding being a 'foundling' (that wording from Davina was a VERY deliberate choice - granted it's already floating around in pop-culture a bit with The Mandalorian, but it's also specifically the wording the Master used to describe the Timeless Child), not to mention fostering from the parent's point of view, and ambiguous family relationships (daughter / foster kid etc.).

There's clearly a coincidence parallel there. Indeed we hear as much from Fifteen himself.

"I'm adopted." "Are you?" "Yeah, yeah. I, uh, only found out recently."

Meanwhile we also get this element of the timeline changing, and it completely changing the life and personality of Carla.

And finally, there's the Doctor watching Ruby's birth mother (?) leave despite seemingly being tempted to confront her vs Ruby immediately running off when she realises the Doctor's a time traveller (RTD clearly influencing himself there, given the similarities with Rose's debut).

My guess (and hope, full disclaimer) is that we might get some development of the Doctor's origins to make them a bit more ambiguous beyond the Timeless Child mystery. Ideally via changing timelines as per Unnatural History IMHO, like I mentioned in a recent post.

We've got some hints of RTD thinking this way already, given his reasoning for sharing Doctor Who and the Time War during lockdown:

More importantly, the idea has come of age. This chapter only died because it became, continuity-wise, incorrect. But now, the Thirteenth Doctor has shown us Doctors galore, with infinite possibilities. All Doctors exist. All stories are true.

Tales of the TARDIS also seems to lean quite hard into this, with each past Doctor having aged beyond their regenerations due to the constantly changing time tracks. (This also feels kinda like what he was getting at with his 'all Doctors bigenerated' comment, even if it actually occuring in-universe as it did with Fourteen woud be a disaster.)

Do I think we will get too focused on timelines shifting? ...no not necessarily. But I do think we might see some key themes regarding having multiple families (biological, adopted, fostered, found etc.) and these might get applied directly to the Doctor, with him acknowledging having multiple pasts and multiple families. Like that line from Lungbarrow:

'Goodbye, Lungbarrovians,' he called. 'Don't worry. I don't ask for your forgiveness. Time runs in circles. I have other families!

Granted, a lot of this is pure speculation, but I do think there's clear setup for Ruby and Fifteen to be foils to each other going forward, which may indicate similar arcs, even if they don't necessarily unfold at the same time.

However there is one big thing that really might just link it together for me..

The way the family changes as the timelines change. The way Carla's relationship with her foster children changes too. The difference in the number of photos.

This last bit is particulary interesting, because it has two possible subtextual meanings in my head. Let's assume the theory is right, everything involving Ruby is meant to foreshadow the Doctor's own multiple pasts and multiple families.

Does the number of photos represent the size of his family (eg. 45 cousins in a House vs a handful of siblings and stepsiblings)?

"You've got the biggest family in the world." "I have. What about you?" "Uh... I've got no one."

(Although it is worth noting that this is also exactly what Sarah Jane said to Ten about the companions in Journeys End. I'm not how, or if, this is meaningful, but I figured I'd note it.)

Or... and this is a stretch of a stretch... could it represent the number of incarnations the Doctor has had in each timetrack?

"All those lives... you fostered thirty-three." "How many? Not me, darling. Don't be so stupid."

There's not that much to go off yet, so a lot of this may be well off what actually happens, but on a thematic level at least, I do very much think Ruby and the Doctor will continue to be foils to eachother regarding their relationships with their families and trying to find their 'true origin'.

#Doctor Who #DW Meta #DW Theory #The Church on Ruby Road #Ruby Sunday #Fifteenth Doctor #The Timeless Child #Lungbarrow #Unnatural History #DW Spoilers #Doctor Who Spoilers #I also think Ruby's going to have some major Sam Jones vibes #a bit like Clara (and NotD pretty clearly being inspired by Unnatural History - even if it does something quite different with the idea) #plus (possibly importantly!) the original idea for that reveal about Rose in S1 that got cut #though I don't know how much of that was RTD's thinking vs Abbot's #my dad literally joked Ruby was the 'perfect companion' while we were watching #which gave me some major flashbacks

[iwritenarrativesandstuff]

There’s always been something that bothered me about whenever I try to explain the concept of Hatoful Boyfriend and most people’s immediate reaction is “oh! Like Doki Doki!”. My response is always just “…I guess?” because I could never quite explain why that felt wrong to me but I think I finally can put a finger on it now.

(To be clear, I’ve played and enjoyed both games. They’re both fun - this isn’t a criticism at all! I just think they’re, at their cores, two very different things. Also I don’t spoil anything for either game here beyond the obvious; that is, that these games are not what they seem to be at first glance, which I’m pretty sure most people know going in. If that amount of spoiler still bothers you, then stop reading here and play the games first!!!)

When people compare the two games, I 100% understand where they’re coming from. It’s the same gimmick I suppose: cutesy looking or joke visual novel actually turns out to be a smokescreen to hide the horrors within. But. Like. I feel like that’s where the similarities end.

See, DDLC’s whole point is to be shocking. It’s intended to make you jump and disturb you. It’s primarily a horror game with you, the player, as its focal point, and as a result the characters are only really there to be used by the story. The majority of the characters, with the exception of one, are pretty straightforward and lean heavily on the tropes commonly used in dating sims so the game can later distort them in increasingly horrific ways - with the intent of shocking and scaring you. The characters are more tools to be used to tell the story and create the experience than fully fleshed out people, which I think works out well thematically for DDLC. It’s effective in the sense where the characters aren’t really what draws you in, but rather the premise and the anticipation of getting a good scare out of it, with some existential stuff mixed in there for a pretty cool experience. You came to get scared right? Well that’s what you got.

But Hatoful is very different because its intent is not to shock or scare you necessarily. Hatoful, since its initial development, has been designed to make you care. Hato Moa made the game intending for people to start it because of its ridiculous concept, but then to discover it’s depth along the way. Hatoful doesn’t want to jump scare you. It wants to tell you a story. It delves into horror, that’s true, but the horror is much more psychological and it stems from the character’s actions. It’s a character driven story at its core, and it does this by taking itself seriously. It knows it’s completely absurd and leans into the absurdity, but the character interactions are real, so that when actual plot begins to happen, you’ll wonder when you started getting so attached. The characters twist typical dating sim tropes again, but this time to ask “hey why is this character like this? maybe it’s not so straightforward as you think”. And then the game goes a step further and reveals that there is an actual in-universe reason for its insane setup of “a human girl goes to bird school which is for birds and dates pigeons”. Hatoful is less tongue in cheek and more completely unabashed about it’s ridiculous premise and plays it straight - which in turn makes its serious moments shockingly genuine. That, to me, is why it works. The point is to delve into the characters. The plot is driven by the characters. It’s horrifying at times because the characters will sometimes make or be forced to make horrific choices. It’s not a gimmick. It’s a cohesive story. It’s just asking you to dig into it a little further to get there.

Tldr; DDLC is a cutesy facade and Hatoful is unabashedly absurd. DDLC wants to scare you and Hatoful wants you to care. DDLC uses its characters as tools for the experience while Hatoful’s whole point is the characters.

Editing based off a reblog that made me aware I was not completely fair with DDLC here (again, still trying not to spoil too much): The experience in DDLC is heavily based on its thematic content. When I say “the characters serve the experience” and “it wants to scare you” I don’t mean this shallowly, and I think it can and has been frequently misinterpreted in this way. In DDLC, the horror comes from the situation. In that sense, it’s thematically appropriate that the characters are tools in that way - that’s actually part of it and you are meant to feel bad for them - their situations, issues, and personalities are thematically relevant and sympathetic. I shouldn’t have juxtaposed “to scare you” and “to make you care”; that was far too simplistic a summary to the point where it is inaccurate. They both want you to care - a story only has power if you care about it. But I do still feel strongly that DDLC’s draw is the terrifying situation it impresses on the player, and the self-aware questions it asks (in which characters are put through the existential oppressive wringer to emphasize these themes), while Hatoful primarily relies on you slowly but surely acclimating to the absurdity so it can tell what is simultaneously an off the walls story that is also genuine and believable for the characters you’ve grown to know.

#if you’ve compared them I’m not mad I promise! I totally get why they’re grouped together when you haven’t played them #I just needed to verbalize this for some reason. probably no one will read this lol but oh well I wrote it for me #whether you think these games were successful in what they set out to do will vary according to personal taste #but the point is that they set out to do very different things here #hatoful boyfriend #not tagging as ddlc because this is more about hatoful tbh and about the struggles I have trying to recommend it 😞 #also hi everyone. it’s been awhile. I promise I have bsd stuff too it’s just been really hectic lately #storyrambles

[cebwrites]

Haunted House Reactions (Yamato, Ace, Sabo)

gn reader word count: 0.8k

Yamato

He wants nothing but to impress you as your Certified™ Big Strong Boyfriend - but at the same time Yams is also a little bit of a chicken

Yamato’s stoked to be here and fascinated by all the decorations and attractions because he’s never had the freedom to really explore what common interests would be, so it makes him come off as a little naïve 

He’s an overgrown, excited puppy that gets spooked and jumps almost as high as the ceiling, but he plays it off quite well (or at least he thinks he does, be nice to the poor baby)

Yams isn’t really the ‘cool, suave’ type anyway, so you find that endearing about him; it’s cute when he claims he’ll protect you from any monster that blocks your way but screams when something brushes against his arm

Another target that the interactive staff likes to antagonize, but with you there at the very least there’s someone to keep him level

If you ever got separated, you’d likely hear his sad little whimpers before anything else, you could just imagine his poor little ears pressed flat against his head already

If you show even a drop of distress or get spooked by something while separated, though, Yams is at your side in an instant - he’ll sniff you out like the big bad wolf in shining armor and cradle you near

He’ll treat you to snacks and a walk down the pier after, too

Ace

He’s smug and casual almost the whole way through, an arm around your shoulder while he points out how ‘cute’ the whole setup is, poking and prodding at decorations, putting on masks laying around to pretend scare you - even if you were nervous at first, Ace helps you relax with his antics

Ace is the ideal ‘calm, cool’ boyfriend on paper, if you ignore his regular traits and only focus on him here, he’ll crack jokes to ease your nervousness and halfway through you even find yourself laughing, entirely forgetting what you were so scared of in the first place

His hubris will be his downfall, though

Three quarters of the way through, when you’re comfortable enough to split away from Ace to explore the house a little more on your own, you hear a blood-curdling shriek and, peering into the hallway, you see your “lax, chill” boyfriend sprint pass you to immediately fumble with the lock on a door while someone in a monster costume lagged behind him

Ace was too panicked to open it properly and, having made eye contact with the “ghoul” beside you, helped him with the lock; monster guy gestured to the way out to you both once it was open and Ace looked like all his flabbers had been ghasted before he started running again, this time with you in tow

You wouldn’t let him live it down for at least a week afterwards, at which Ace could only pout, huff, attempt to tease you in return for something else, and then have it dissolve into a kissy battle as usual while the both of you attempted to tickle each other

Sabo

Sabo isn’t afraid of haunted houses, haunted houses are afraid of him - or at least, the staff is

Bobo’s the insufferable kind of person that comes to haunted houses to cause problems on purpose; it’s almost entirely down to the fact that he never intends to go but always gets dragged along anyway by Ace, Luffy, or Koala, so he decides to have fun on his own terms

By being an absolute menace

He never jumps at any of the scares, if an actor runs up to him in an attempted spook he’ll just politely shake their hand and be on his way

Going to a haunted house with Sabo almost makes everything less scary by proxy because of how he reacts to things, which is fine, but makes the experience kind of less fun, too? I mean what’s the point of going if you’re not gonna be scared, Ace would say, immediately getting into a slappy fight with Bobo after

Sabo holds your hand throughout the tour and keeps everyone else in line so they don’t go over whatever “schedule” he’s made up in his brain for how long it should take to make it out of here

Maybe on occasion he’ll be up for exploring things in further detail, but that also definitely means he’s fucking with the staff too, and those poor teenagers aren’t getting paid 10$ an hour to deal with your boyfriend’s petty nonsense

Bonus: If the three of them had to go into a haunted house together, Yamato and Ace would cling against Sabo for dear life and Bobo would be this 🤏 close to committing murder for it.

#cebwrites #one piece #one piece x reader #op x reader #op x you #one piece x y/n #one piece x you #one piece imagine #one piece headcanons #ace one piece #ace x reader #ace x you #one piece ace #hiken no ace #yamato x reader #yamato one piece #yamato x y/n #yamato x you #yamato #fire fist ace #one piece yamato #op yamato #op sabo #one piece sabo #sabo #sabo x y/n #sabo x reader #sabo x you #cebtober

[mermaidsirennikita]

ARC REVIEW: Unladylike Rules of Attraction by Amita Murray

4/5. Releases 5/14/24.

Vibes: "must marry or else", vaaaaague guardian/ward sorta kinda?, two people living on the edge of English society, light mystery

Heat Index: 6/10

Court sitar player Anya doesn't expect to inherit much, if anything, when her client dies. But the Dowager Countess Budleigh has left Anya half her fortune--with one condition. She must marry by her twenty-fifth birthday... which is four months away. Otherwise? The money will go to Lord Damian Ashton, the family outsider and now trustee. (Oh--and they think he killed his way to the title.) As Anya begins looking for a husband, Damian is there, initially to irritate and then, when she's accused of murder by the Budleighs, to help. The question is--if they make it out of this, can he bear to see her with someone else?

The second in Amita Murray's Marleigh Sisters series, I found Unladylike Rules of Attraction faster-paced and more exciting than the first installment, which is always lovely. The chemistry between Anya and Damian had me immediately--and though the relationship unfurled a bit more rapidly than I expected, their back and forth remained a treat. As did the very true reality of them both living on the edges of English society, seen as oddities or fetishized due to their races (Anya had a white father and an Indian mother, and Damian's grandmother was a Jamaican Black woman).

So while I do have nitpicks here and there, I have to say that this was an engaging romp with serious insights.

Quick Takes:

--If you enjoy romantic leads that snark, you'll be into this. Damian and Anya are kind of at each other's throats from the jump, but in, like, a fun way. They both find each other annoying, mostly because they want to bone, and I support that. I also really love the marriage plot setup: she's supposed to marry, or he gets everything, so maybe the best thing would be for them to marry each other...? But NO, God NO, that would be AWFUL.

Damian also has a lovely younger brother who enters the scene as a supporting character. He initially thinks that his brother is making a play for Anya, and the "I am quietly seething from across a ballroom" content was great.

--But, as I mentioned earlier, there's a lot of quiet understanding these two have for each other. Anya is seen as an exotic marvel at Queen Charlotte's court... to an extent. There isn't much actual real respect there, because women hate her (and let's be real, are often jealous of her) for who she is and men want to fuck her without offering any legitimacy or respect.

Although Damian didn't have an identical experience to Anya, he's also very much an outsider. I mean, people just assume this guy murdered someone to get a title... basically, let's be real, because he's of Jamaican descent. The novel is covering, basically, a lot of nasty, racist shit. However, it maintains an optimistic, if realistic attitude, and understanding reality doesn't mean that Murray is going to keep her leads from falling in love. It's a tough balancing act, and I think she executed it well.

--That said, these two do move pretty fast. And I'm not someone who loves a slow burn, right? I enjoy reading sex on the page early. It's not that the sex happens so EARLY in this book. It's more that I don't think there was quite enough build up between Damian and Anya. The chemistry was there, but when it began I was pretty surprised.

It's not a huge issue, but if I had to give a critique, that would be my main one.

--One thing I really appreciated was the way Murray dealt with Anya's trauma surrounding her separation from her sisters. She knows where they are, she loves them--but she can't really bring herself to be close to them because of this chasm of years apart. She wants to be! She feels guilty! But that doesn't make her reluctance built on years of separation go away.

--The mystery and murder stuff here is pretty light; there's nothing that's too much to bear here. But I found it entertaining, and I can be a hard sell with mystery, so that's a good sign.

The Sex:

This is an open door romance. It's not super explicit, it's not over the top. There are a few scenes, nothing super wild, and I do think Murray could go into a bit more detail with it. But as it is: if you enjoy a Lorraine Heath level of heat (and I do too, I could always appreciate more though), you'll enjoy these.

Moving along at a clip, Unladylike Rules of Attraction is both romantic and astute. I see it being compared to Bridgerton, and while I get that on paper... First off, this is a lot smarter in general than that show. Second, it's certainly more attentive to the issues of race. If you want something fun and different and very much its own thing, check this out.

Thanks to NetGalley and Avon for providing me with a copy of this book. All thoughts and opinions are my own.

#romance novel blogging #arc reviews #netgalley #book reviews #book recs #books #romance novels