#but also it'll make ***** and ****** look worse and i don't want that either

[luveline]

𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐬𝐨 𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐝? | 𝐞𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐞 𝐦𝐮𝐧𝐬𝐨𝐧

Your best friend Eddie tries to explain what a hickey feels like and finds he doesn't have the words. He could show you, though, if you want? [3k] 

fem!reader, shy!reader, implied inexpereinced!reader, friends-to-lovers, pining, mdni heavy petting, hickeys, lots of hickeys, marking up, neck kissing, shoulder kissing, heat of the moment confessions, eddie being flirty but also a good friend, requested here

𓆩❤︎𓆪

Eddie strokes down the length of his guitar neck almost tenderly. You're focused on his hands rather than his mouth as he recounts last night's date to you, distracted by the deft movement of his fingers, which aren't exactly small. It's an oxymoron —paradoxical, even— that his thick fingers would move with such gentle precision. 

You shift around where you're sitting on his bedroom floor, criss-cross applesauce with an uncomfortable heat rising from the bottomless pit of your stomach to your tight collar. The white button up you'd worn under your sweater vest is a size too small. You're really starting to notice. 

You peel out of the vest and hope it'll help you calm down.

"She wasn't exactly sweet," Eddie says, plucking a string, listening to the sound, and tuning it this way or that depending on how he liked it. "I think she wanted to get it over with, which isn't really my thing. She was in my lap before I could make it clear I wasn't interested in anything quick." 

You lift your gaze from his hands. He must feel you watching his face. He looks up in tandem and smiles reassuringly. "It's fine. I kind of thought she was getting into it, she was like a vampire on me at one point, but I wasn't feeling it and it's clear she wasn't either. Drove her home. How was your night, d'you watch that tape?" 

You trace the coil of a black curl down to his shoulder, and can't force yourself to meet his eyes as you ask, "A vampire?" 

"What?" 

"She was like a vampire at one point, you said." Eddie's arm goes still. "What did you mean by that?" you ask.

He puts his guitar down on the floor. You worry you've said something truly dull for him to place his sweetheart in such a rush, but Eddie's like that. He can tell you're embarrassed no doubt, and he's giving you the answer to your question as swiftly as he can to soothe the wound. 

"Here, look," he says. He pushes his hair away from his neck on one side and tilts his head, bearing a wine-stained curve of skin to you unabashedly. "She kissed me. She gave me a hickey, used a lot of teeth. That's why it's bruised so much on the edges." 

Warmth you've never felt rushes in, like your blood has superheated, and it's written on your face. Eddie's room feels suddenly a thousand times smaller than before and more intimate, his poster wallpaper curving in, the space between you inching closer. 

"Sorry," he says, "I know it's kind of weird to show you." 

"No, I'm sorry," you say, mortified. "I shouldn't have asked you." 

"Yeah, you should. You didn't get it and now you do. I don't mind telling you." 

Eddie lets his hair fall back against his neck, a kinky curtain that looks ridiculously soft in the orangey light of his lamp. There's a butter smoothness to it, and the way he moves as he does is worse, his hand open and reaching for you. He doesn't hold your hand, doesn't even try, just lets his upturned palm hang off the edge of his knee as if to say, Ask me whatever it is you want to ask me. It's cool. 

"Why would she do that?" you ask, gesturing to your neck.

"It's not her fault, I was flirting with her a ton trying to make it work."

"Not like that." 

Eddie's hand turns toward his knee. "Like what?" 

Your hand drifts to your own neck absentmindedly. You get kissing, wanting to be kissed and wanting to give them. You understand why she kissed his neck; if you'd been in her position, alone in the car with Eddie laying his charm on thick, you might climb the console and push aside his hair too. 

"I know why she kissed you. I don't see why she…" You rub your lips together, your embarrassment turning sharp. You hate how humiliating this feels. "I know what a hickey is, Eds, but why would you want one?" 

His turn to fluster. The tiniest tinge of pink paints his cheeks. "Are you asking me why I enjoyed it?" 

"Did you?" 

You despise yourself, truly. Worse when Eddie laughs, his chest forward, hair falling in his face as he chuckles sincerely. 

"Yeah," he says, smiling at you "I liked it. Before she started trying to kill me I was having a good time." 

He doesn't put you through the agony of asking what you both know he wants to. 

You've never had one?

"It feels warm, and it's– you know how being kissed gives you butterflies, right? It's better than that. It's hot, and all her weight is on you and you have your hand on her back trying to pull her in, and she's as close as she can be without, you know." Something flickers across Eddie's face. Not longing, but a remembered pleasure. It makes you squirm. 

"I don't see how it doesn't just hurt." 

The hand that hadn't been reaching for you holds a pick. He flashes it between his fingers, a party trick, a nervous tic, his eyelashes tangling together as his eyelids inch closed. He scrunches his face up for a second. 

"Don't hate me if I ask you something weird," Eddie says, eyes shut tight. 

You don't think you could. You watch Eddie's face, knowing he can't see your analysis, and feel a shock of pins and needles in your hands when his eyes open and immediately lock on to yours. 

"Do you want me to give you one?" he asks. 

Your lips feel like they've been glued shut. You're aware of your breathing, how shallow each inhale has become, but you can't do anything about it. 

He has the decency to acknowledge what position his question puts you in, "I know it might be weird but I can't describe it to you if you don't know what it feels like." 

You surprise him. You surprise yourself. "Uh, yeah. Okay." 

"Yeah?" 

"It doesn't hurt?" 

"Not unless you want it to." A hint of a smirk plays on his lips, though it fades quickly. "It doesn't hurt. That's not the point. But it can feel… foreign." 

You nod jerkily, wishing you knew what to do. 

The atmosphere is thick enough to cut through. Neither of you like it. Eddie gives you another type of smile, a familiar one that says, I'm your best friend, I always will be, so please chill out. 

"You're gonna have to sit in my lap." 

You actually laugh. "Eddie," you chastise, thinking it's a bad joke. 

"Sorry, sweetheart, but it's that or the bed." His teasing tone is light, but he still adds, "I mean, we can do it sitting next to each other but it's difficult. Whatever you want, though." 

You climb up on your knees. You're shy, absolutely, you always will be and especially when Eddie's teasing, but he really is your best friend, and the bed isn't happening.

He doesn't scare you. 

He grins and ushers you toward him. "Alright, come here." He tugs one of your thighs over his lap and your breath catches. He grabs the other and any laughter between you abruptly dies. 

You settle over his lap with an expression not far from pained. Eddie's hands rest against your thigh and your hip. He has to look up at you now, and he does as he encourages your weight firmly downward. You're more than conscious of where you're positioned. 

"Do me a favour?" he asks. 

"Yeah." You put your hand on his chest tentatively. 

"Don't suffer through it if you hate it, okay? All you have to do is say something and I'll stop, but if you feel like you can't, a good right hook would work too." 

"I'm not gonna hurt you," you protest. 

"Me neither," he says. His hand lifts from your thigh to your neck, and he brushes his fingertips down the curve of it ineffectually. It would feel good if you weren't choking on air. "Relax, sweetheart. Please." 

"I'm really warm." 

"Your shirt's too tight anyway," he says, hand at your collar. He thumbs open your top button, a second, and exposes the flat of your chest. His fingers slide across your neck as he folds back your starched collar. They're cool compared to the raging heat he finds there. 

You take a deep breath. 

"You could put your hands in my hair," he says. Wishful thinking has hope colouring his tone. 

You put your hands on his shoulders. The very tips of your fingers partition his curls. 

He raises an arm above your mess of limbs to weave a hand behind your ear. It's then that you feel his callouses, so rough against the delicate skin of your scalp. Despite their texture, you find it feels good. He tucks his hand in tight, and slowly, slowly turns your head to the side. 

"Look up," he murmurs. 

You lift your head and stare at the ceiling with widened eyes. 

He can't know but he does, and he says, "Close your eyes." The heat of his breath kisses your neck.  

You shiver at the suggestion of his lips, and again when they press to your skin. Close-lipped, Eddie kisses the skin just under your ear where on the opposite side of your head his thumb strokes quarter circles. You're quickly overwhelmed by the duelling sensations. You don't notice his lips have parted until he's kissing a sloven path downward, his spit cooling in wake. 

This isn't a hickey, this is straight up kissing, and you don't know what to do with how you feel. You hide your hands in his hair. 

It tugs him forward. He reads your hands for enthusiasm, and if it is or isn't he pulls you closer still and opens his mouth against your skin. His teeth are impossible to ignore. 

Your hand works further into his hair, getting caught in a tangle as he sucks your skin between his lips. His lazy mouthing turns insistent but still gentle, his teeth scratching ever so slightly at your pulse as it capers beneath his ministrations. You gasp at the warmth blossoming under your ribs. You cup the back of his neck a touch too tight. 

He doesn't stop kissing you, only grabs your wrist to stop you from choking him out. You make a sound you've never made with him before, a mewl, all breathless and teary as the sensation worsens. Which is to say, betters. 

He breaks a particularly rough kiss to suck in breath, his nose sliding up the curve of your neck as he leans back. "You okay?" he murmurs, half-lidded eyes locking onto your flushed face. 

"Why does it feel like that?" you ask. 

He drops his head, his nose level with your chin. "I don't know," he says, punctuating with a kiss right there, the closest bit of skin he can find. "Want me to do it again?" 

You swallow and he must see it. He says nothing, wrapping his arms around your waist as he waits for you to respond. Your stomach pushes into his, your arms braced on his shoulder so you don't collapse into his front, limp with touch. 

"Sweetheart, can I do it again?" he asks.

"Yeah," you say, quiet but enthusiastic. "Please." 

He's slower this time. Eddie leans into your neck and doesn't kiss you at first, his lips so close to your skin that you can feel their phantom. You skin tingles from his previous scandalising, and it doesn't beg, skin can't beg, but you can, you curl your arm behind his neck and hook his head there, crushing his hair to the crook of your arm. He doesn't take much convincing beyond that. His lips smush against your neck and you feel every millimetre as they part, heat and warmth and wet spreading like budding flowers come to bloom. You melt into him soon after, and Eddie takes your weight in stride, hand at the small of your back and pulling you in so hard you can feel his ribs. 

When you think you're used to it —not used to it, but expecting what can be expected— Eddie nips you. Tiny dainty kisses broken up with a nibbling you'd couldn't describe as anything but playful. He laughs at your gasping and does it again, again, giddy hot laughter mixed with one of the strangest feelings you've ever been subjected to. You're molten. You're dizzy with it.

Eddie pulls back enough to ask, "I'm gonna undo another button, okay? Just one. Is that alright?" 

"What for?" 

"So I can kiss your shoulder. Just your shoulder." He sounds pleading, desperately excited in a way you've never heard him and you want to know what it'll feel like, so you let him. 

This next button unveils the top of your bra and the soft hills of your breasts. He doesn't look, barely glances at his hand as he tugs your shirts down your arm, diving into the juncture of your neck like he needs it to breathe. His kisses are proper compared to some of the stuff he's been doing, but then he opens his mouth and the flat of his tongue wets your skin as he kisses kisses kisses down your shoulder. His hand is somewhere under your shirt, fingers slipped under your bra strap and pulling teasingly at the elastic as he eases you down in his arms. You're shorter than him where you'd started taller, totally compressed in his arms and at his mercy.

When he pulls back, the slimmest ribbon of spit shines between your shoulder and his lips. He wipes his face with the back of his hand, his eyes glassy, and that hand cups your face. He pretty much grabs you, but there's not a lick of cruelty in his touch. Eddie's rough. Never cruel. 

"You're on fire," he says. It's objective rather than joking. "You're so hot. Do you want to stop?" 

"Not– not unless you want to," you say, trying to quieten your breathing. You sound like you've run a marathon. It feels like it. 

"I'm gonna give you a real one, cool?" 

"I didn't know they weren't real." 

"Oh, sweetheart," he says, and his eyes are damning, a loving pity in the black of his blown pupils, "I was just warming you up." 

Your mind blanks. 

"Make sure I can hide it," you say. 

You aren't thinking straight, concerned about hiding his hickeys but not what this means for the two of you. His unexpected hunger, and your willingness to let him eat you whole. 

"I don't think you can hide it anymore," he says, stroking your cheek with his thumb. 

You look down at his lips. They're rosy, swollen from the pressure.

He sees you looking. 

He yanks you in by the waist and sizes you up, almost, like he's calling your bluff, not spiteful but something mean about him as he stares at your mouth in return. 

Like he doesn't want you to make the mistake. Like he knows you won't. 

His hand tips your chin up high and he ducks his own down. An inch and you'd be kissing. That's all it would take.

"Is that really what you want?" he asks.

"I don't know," you say. Is it what he wants?

It has to be. 

"Have you wanted to, before?" He draws a line down your cheek with his marriage finger. Fast as a heavy tear. "You want me to kiss you?" 

"Yeah," you whisper, trying to make sense of this, your sudden confession, a secret want pushed into the light. 

Eddie turns his hand and strokes down your cheek with the back of it, pushing any dampened baby hairs away from your skin. His gaze softens. 

"Was that so hard?" he asks. 

"You knew?"

He kisses you. He's smiling, and he doesn't take just one. He must kiss you four or five times, your lips parted enough to know he could push it further if he wanted, but he doesn't. These kisses are unhurried, missing the ravenous passion of his hickeying but not the fondness. 

"You don't know how hard it is," he says after he's broken away, his forehead tipped against yours, "how hard it is to have someone look at you like you look at me everyday, like I'm something you can't have." 

"I didn't know–" you knew. You felt the same. His kissing is evidence alone. it's confessional.

"I know. Guess I thought nothing good would come of it, but– but I don't want good. I want you." 

He pulls back quickly, like you've said something confessional rather than him. He surprised himself. 

"I'm not good?" you ask. 

"You're good. You'll ruin me, that's all." 

You don't have time to ask him what he means by that. He kisses you again, kisses your cheek, draws a line of crescent moons down along your neck to the mess he's made of you. He kisses– he sucks your neck so hard, so sudden, that goosebumps erupt and you can't stop yourself from saying, "Ohh," as you cling to his shoulders. 

This is the vampire thing he'd talked about, the points of his teeth stark against your skin even now. There's another layer of vulnerability unveiled here, knowing that he could really hurt you and knowing he never would. He kisses you until you're overwhelmed by him. Heat everywhere. Sweat shining on your skin. You don't want anything else but this.

You squeak as the pressure turns from pleasurable to too much. Eddie hears the pain in it and pulls away, instantly sorry and willing to prove it, his hands cradling your face. 

You pant. He shushes you gently.

"Sorry, baby." He pets your cheeks. 

Your head falls back, too heavy on your sore neck. You feel wiped. 

Wiped, but good. Lax. 

"That was nice," you say breathlessly. 

Eddie sits up and drags you with him, hand behind your neck to prop you up. He's laughing again, his awful sweet laugh that you've heard a thousand times before. It never fails to make you smile. 

"You're like a dead fish." 

You cover an eye with your hand. "I take it the romance is over." 

"You thought that was romantic? Babe, I'm only getting started." 

Eddie gives you a quick peck. Where his hickey had felt like the heart of a star growing hotter with each passing second, his smaller kiss feels like the sun through blinds, a dappling of warmth. 

"Are you messing with me?" you ask.

He pushes his arms over your shoulders for a hug. 

"No. Not messing with you." His nose rubs against the shell of your ear. "It's about time we talked." 

You let your hand drift down the dip of his back.

"Okay," you mumble. Talking. You need to talk about whatever it is that just happened. 

"...Maybe I'll get you a glass of water first," he adds.

"That's a good idea." 

𓆩❤︎𓆪

Thank you so much for reading! I hope you enjoyed, and if you did, please consider letting me know/reblogging, it means the world to me and makes a big difference!! ♡ NOTE: Eddie def pines back if that isn't fully clear, I tried to imply it with his date where he could've hooked up with someone but didn't go through with it, it was cos he's too in lurve

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson fic #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson smut #ish #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson oneshot #eddie munson scenario #stranger things x reader #stranger things fic #stranger things

[kittyhazelnut]

help I think people are genuinely upset with me for the newest chapter of my fic

#like not even 'i cant believe you've done this!' upset #i wouldn't be surprised if at least a few people stop reading #and it makes me sad bc this is like An Important Part Of The Fic™ #and i was all excited to get to it because its gonna lead to Things™ #and the people who are like "noooo stop itttt' are making me happy because it's supposed to piss ppl off #but it's supposed to make you mad at the avengers not mad at me 😭 #i almost want to go back and change the avengers' reactions to it and maybe people will be less upset #but also it'll make ***** and ****** look worse and i don't want that either #and i always go back and edit chapters a few times before i post them because i finish them a couple weeks before they get posted #but i might like Really Edit the next few to kinda retcon it a little #because idk if people are gonna be okay waiting (number) of chapters until people start peopling #and i dont want them to stop reading right before thingd finally get better 😭😭😭 #but im on The Scene rn and it's like 5000 words already and it's just getting to The Part so if people make it to this chapter and the one #after it i think it will be okay? i just don't want them to give up yet 😭 #i was kinda in the same boat towards the beginning of the fic tho and i think most people stuck through that so maybe...? #but this is also Much Worse and uhhhh #idk man #idk #i think for my own sanity im gonna stop checking my email for ao3 comments obsessively like i usually do #and instead just read them when i get around to answering them #(which is gonna take a few days because i think i have like 80 comments in my inbox rn 😬) #my night's kinda booked (im baking Christmas goodies for my cousins rn) but im hoping i can catch up on most comment tomorrow or wednesday #but honestly my only free day this week is thursday so we'll see how that goes #but anyways I'm currently writing a scene I've been very excited to write for a long time so focusing on the positive! #and hopefully nobody reads it and thinks (redacted) is doing a bad job (redacted)ing because it's not supposed to come off like that 😭

[de4dlyniightshade]

munch! spencer, reader with migraine, spencer reads something about how orgasms can help with pain

꩜ warning!: this post is +18!!! mdni!

꩜ word count: 1.6k (got a little carried away;-;)

꩜ A/N: honestly i don't rlly like this but hopefully it's good enough :,)

You let out a quiet groan in pain as you squinted your eyes at the tv, trying to watch your favourite show but the light from the screen only made your throbbing headache worse, to the point it was almost unbearable.

"Another migraine?" Spencer asked quietly from the other end of the sofa as he looked up from his book, keeping his voice low so as to not make it any worse. You just nodded, holding your head in your hand and letting your eyes close, feeling slight relief from the light no longer beaming into your eyes.

You didn't get migraines all that often but when you did they could be pretty bad and Spencer hated seeing you in pain and hated the fact that there was nothing he could do to fix it even more, or so he thought. He'd spent hours researching ways to alleviate your pain after your last migraine, which got so bad that it practically debilitated you and you couldn't do anything but sit in a darkened room for hours until it passed.

After reading countless articles and blogs a unanimous opinion was that an orgasm relieves a large amount of the pain, one woman going as far to say that hers was completely gone afterwards. Honestly the remedy was a complete win-win, he'd be able to help you and make you feel better and he'd also get to do his absolute favourite thing at the same time, which just so happened to be eating you out.

"Do you want me to help?" Spencer suggested, laying his book down on your coffee table and turning to face you, a slightly excited feeling bubbling in his chest.

"Remember nothing worked last time, Spence" you murmured, sighing at the realisation that you'd probably end up back in your bedroom, cocooned under blankets for your unforeseeable future. You felt Spencer shift closer to you and you could practically feel the excitement radiating from him, knowing that meant he'd found some scientific way to help you and wanted to try it.

"I researched a lot about migraines and how to help you since the last one and the method that came up almost every time was that a sexual release would alleviate a large amount of the pain and i was thinking maybe..." he didn't even have to finish his sentence for you to know what he was thinking, as soon as he uttered the word "sexual" you knew what he had in mind.

"You seriously think it'll work?" Your tone was hopeful and you were prepared to try anything at this point, feeling your pain slowly worsen the more time went on. you'd tried almost every other remedy you'd been suggested by friends and nothing had worked even a little and painkillers did nothing for you no matter how many you took.

"It's worth a try," Spencer smiled, resting his hand on your lower back. you knew he wasn't just doing this for himself, it was just convenient that he loved nothing more than to be buried between your legs.

"Alright, but if this doesn't work I'm not gonna be happy" you were only half serious, you were happy to let Spencer run his little experiment, considering that if it did work, you'd both not have a migraine anymore and would have had an incredible orgasm, so either way, you got something out of the experience.

You watched as Spencer moved to turn off the TV, leaving just a lamp on so that it was light enough that he could still see but dark enough that it wouldn't hurt your head so much.

You quickly hooked your fingers into the waistband of your underwear and pants, lifting your hips to tug them down over your ass and slide them down your legs, kicking them to the side to deal with later as Spencer moved to eagerly kneel in front of you, placing his hands behind your knees and leaning down to press a chaste kiss just above your left knee.

You smiled as you slowly spread your legs apart, watching Spencer's eyes glint with anticipation. You already knew the drill—moving to place your legs over his shoulders the way he liked it and shifting forward on the sofa to give him better access.

Spencer didn't waste any time with teasing, reminding himself that this wasn't for him, no matter how much he enjoyed it; this was an attempt to alleviate your pain.

You let out a sigh as you felt his warm tongue lick a bold stripe up your folds before he circled your clit, moaning quietly at your taste that he'd grown to love so much.

You tangled your fingers in his hair as he buried his face deeper into you, urging your thighs apart to lap at your pussy, your quiet whines and moans egging him on as he took your clit into his mouth, sucking and licking at your sensitive nub, the stimulation making you twitch and grip his hair tighter, rolling your hips into his face as you let your head fall back against the couch.

Spencer wrapped his hands around your thighs as he nuzzled his face into you, making sure to get as close as possible to you so that he could dip his tongue into your entrance. The feeling of his warm, wet tongue pushing into you causing you to arch your back, a loud gasp falling from your lips, your migraine long forgotten.

"F-fuck spence," you whined as you tugged on his hair desperately, letting yourself grind into his mouth. Spencer continued his ministrations on your sensitive cunt, drinking in everything you had to give him with pleasure as he whined into your wantonly.

You felt Spencer push one of your legs to the side, and instantly you got the message, lifting your leg to sling it over the arm of the couch to give him access. You couldn't help but gasp when you felt his middle and index fingers prod at your entrance, teasing your hole briefly before he began slowly sliding them in. The copious amount of saliva and your arousal making it easy.

"Oh, f-fuck!" you moaned out as you felt his fingertips curl right into your g-spot, the mixture of his mouth on your clit and his fingers pressing right into that spot that made your toes curl, making your mind go completely blank as you whimpered and moaned, his name falling from your lips in breathy gasps.

Spencer began massaging his fingers into your g-spot, drawing needy moans from your lips as he brought you closer to your release, revelling in the way you moaned his name and the way that your walls clenched around his fingers.

You got completely lost in the pleasure as you rutted your hips into his face, gripping his hair harshly and pushing his face into you. You felt the familiar knot in your stomach tighten as you squirmed and shuddered, the feeling of Spencer's fingers nonstop stimulating your sensitive spot making you a needy mess.

"C-close! 'm close, Spence." Your voice was high-pitched and whiny as you warned him, Spencer only pushing his fingers harder into you, the action pulling a loud moan from your throat as your body began to shake and tremble.

You couldn't help but sling your leg back over Spencer's shoulder, letting your thighs clench around his head as you felt your orgasm approaching. Spencer's tongue never letting up his brutal sucking and licking on your clit, sending shockwaves through your body.

Spencer began moaning and whining into you, the sounds sending vibrations through your sensitive cunt and making you cry out in pleasure as your breath came out in gasps and huffs, your whole body tending as you felt your release dangerously close.

"G-god spence, I'm gonna c-cum!" You practically wailed with no regard for how loud you were being, letting out a constant slew of desperate noises when Spencer massaged your soft spot more precisely, coaxing you to your release as he sucked harshly on your clit.

Spencer let out an especially loud moan as you tugged on his hair, the intense vibrations sending you over the edge as your mouth dropped open in a silent scream, your whole body shaking and writhing as your release gushed around Spencer's fingers that continued to curl into you, coaxing you through your orgasm while he gently licked at your clit.

You were breathing heavily and still shaking slightly when Spencer slowly pulled his fingers from your sopping cunt, wincing slightly as his skin dragged against your sensitive walls. You watched as he buried his fingers in his mouth, cleaning off your release like he always did, sighing at the taste before he pulled them out and leaned back in, dipping his tongue into your slit to lap up everything he could, not daring to waste any of it.

Spencer leaned his cheek on your knee when he was satisfied, looking up at you through his lashes as you lay completely fucked out with your eyes closed, a beautifully content expression on your face.

"How do you feel?" he asked quietly, watching as you cracked your eyes open and furrowed your brows, scanning around the room and sitting up slightly, a smile spreading across your lips as you looked back down at him.

"I feel...great?!" You laughed slightly, completely fascinated by the effectiveness but also relieved that you'd found something that worked, both for you and for him. Spencer couldn't hide the wide smile that adorned his lips. He was overjoyed that his method worked as he pressed gentle kisses up your leg before he situated himself beside you, nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck and sighing.

"i'm glad" 

(dookie ass ending again ik</3 i need to work on that :,)

#📬 maeve's mailbox! #he's a munch your honour! #spencer reid #dr spencer reid #spencer reid smut #spencer reid one shot #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid scenario #spencer reid request #spencer reid fandom #spencer reid criminal minds #criminal minds #criminal minds fandom #criminal minds fanfiction #mgg #matthew gray gubler #criminal minds oneshot #criminal minds smut #criminal minds fluff #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds fic #mgg fanfiction #mgg smut #mgg imagine #mgg x reader

[eddiemunsons-missingnipple]

Pairings: Eddie munson x fem!reader

Warning: spanking, a little touching. Reader is pretty bratty.

18+ minors dni

"Why you so upset with me, huh?" Eddie whispered against your neck

What. Kiss. Did. Kiss. I. Kiss. Do?" Each word he spoke followed with a kiss down your jaw and to your neck.

You let a shakey breath squirming under him.

"Y--you know what you did." You spoke softly. You desperately tried to act like you weren’t phased by what he was doing, but you were.

You can feel him smiling against your throat.

He hums before sucking gently on the sensitive skin right under your ear. "Someone need me to help them with their attitude?"

His breath tickled your neck, making you shiver.

Eddie traces his fingers slowly at the waistband of your panties. Inching his fingers in ever so carefully until they were dipping down to your entrance. Already soaked for him.

You rolled your eyes, trying to ignore his wandering hand but failing miserably.

"My girl is so upset today." He bit his lower lip to keep from laughing.

You're cute when angry but also hard to deal with. You either whined too much. Cried too much. Pouted too much. Talked back. The headaches you'd give your poor boyfriend sometimes were unbearable.

He licks a strip up your throat before biting it a little too hard.

"Tell me all about." He murmured against you. His lips still peppering gentle kisses down your throat.

You feel his fingers glide up in between your wet folds until they're pressing firmly on your aching clit. Your breath hitches when you feel him start to rub tight, slow circles.

"I--i don't wanna talk about it," you pout and stumble over your words.

He raised an eyebrow. "No?"

"Well, I guess my fingers don't know how to work anymore, I guess." He teases with a long drawn out sigh.

You whined in response when you feel him stop touching you. Burying your face in his chest, mumbling away. Your thighs closing up tightly, trying to keep his hand in place.

"C'mon baby, talk to me." Eddie was practically begging. He coaxed, desperately wanting you to tell him why you're mad.

"No." You pouted some more.

He takes another deep sigh, snatching his hand from your panties. He moves to sit at the edge of the bed.

"C'mon baby." He waved his hand, signaling for you to get up.

You slowly crawl your way over to him.

"Across my lap, you know the rules."

"b-but." Your lip wobbles when you figured what he wants to do.

"No tears, let's get it over with." He sounds more annoyed than upset.

You move and lay across his lap the tips of your toes dancing on the floor. You know you should have just spoken up and told him what's been bothering you. You're too stubborn and stuck in your ways. Which have gotten you into some serious trouble in the past. Once again, it's done just that, and there is no backing out. No begging or pleading is going to save you now.

He smoothes a hand over the plush skin of your ass. "How does ten sound?"

You don't answer him right away. Tears already spilling down your face, making tiny puddles on the floor. He spanks you hard, grabbing your attention immediately. Your body jolting forward.

"Ten sounds good." You sniffle.

Bringing his hand back to soothe over your stinging bottom. He kept his rings on for this one. You know each strike of his hand is going to hurt much worse. "Shh, it'll be over before you know it."

"I don't wanna have to do this." Smack. "But you leave me no choice sometimes." Smack. He reprimanded you each time his hand connected to your cheeks. Your ass rippling from the impact.

You don't respond. You listen and accept your punishment and hope he takes some mercy on you. The metal of his rings intensified each swat that connected to your skin.

By the time he was done, your legs were trembling, and your face stained with tears.

"Wanna talk about it now?" He spoke softly, bringing your face to look at him so he can wipe away your tears.

"NO!" You shove yourself off him to stand, almost falling back over his lap. You're still upset. Still very pissed off, especially now.

Your ass all the way down to your thighs burns. Your inner thighs sticky with your slick. There was an uncomfortable ache between your legs where he left you unsatisfied.

"I guess ten just wasn't enough." Eddie groaned pincing the bridge of nose trying to keep his cool. "I think I need to do something else to help you with that attitude."

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #joseph quinn #eddie munson fanfic #stranger things #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson smut #eddie x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x female reader smut #dom!eddie munson #sub!reader

[joyoushyuck]

15:45

Donghyuck is shooting you a wide-eyed look, lips set in a pout, batting his lashes and all. His manipulation is as clear as daylight. He knows you can't resist his charm when he brings out his fatal puppy eyes. Under normal circumstances, you would have given in by now, but this is anything but normal.

You take another look at what you are sure is the ugliest house plant ever, repulsed by the mere sight of it. You don't understand why Donghyuck would go out of his way to pick the strangest of plants everytime he stepped into a nursery. You remember his past infamous pet plants. His devil’s ivy (which he so lovingly called divy) almost killed Daegal, and his mother of thousands was so revolting that his own mother refused to drop by until he got rid of it.

Now he wants a goddamn sea onion of all things to add to your list of greatest miseries. It's not even a seedling, it is fully grown and at a point where it just cannot get anymore hideous. The cherry on top is definitely the bulb sitting on top of the soil.

“Stop calling my baby ugly!” He whines.

You sigh, rubbing your temples. You sense an oncoming headache. “Hyuck, there are some ferns over there,” you point in the general direction of some decent-looking plants. “Do you want to take a look at them before we make a decision? I saw some moth orchids too-”

“Baby!” His gripe cuts you off. “We formed an instant connection the moment our eyes met! I just know this is it!”

You don't want to know what eyes he is talking about. The poor salesboy who had the misfortune of helping you find a plant looks like he is two seconds away from crying. Donghyuck is still giving you his fatal puppy eyes. This plant would ruin your aesthetics.

“Fine,” you relent reluctantly because the headache is getting worse and the salesboy is getting teary eyed. Not because you love Donghyuck or something.

Donghyuck does a small victory dance and cups your cheeks to press a quick kiss on your lips. It doesn't make your heart somersault into your stomach at all.

That's just gross.

If months later, you are the one taking care of Mr. Anion (a terrible pun) while Donghyuck (being the irresponsible father that he is) is on a world tour, it isn't because you love him either. Or whatever.

That's just gross.

-

Note

Working on your requests. Might take some time:)

Also Donghyuck would 100% be ugly plants enthusiast. He has that type of unhinged energy. Reblog if you agree.

(reblog even if you don't agree because it'll help me π_π)

P.S I'll answer the asks once I'm done writing the requests. I read all of them.

#nct #nct dream #nct 127 #nct drabbles #donghyuck x reader #haechan #haechan x reader #lee donghyuck #lee haechan #nct donghyuck #nct fluff #nct dream fluff #nct 127 fluff #haechan fluff #donghyuck fluff #lee donghyuck fluff #domestic fluff #ugly house plants #nct dream drabbles #nct 127 drabbles #nct imagines #nct dream imagines #nct 127 imagines #timestamp #syerah fics #humor #cute #post #haechan oneshot #nct oneshot

[lizhly-writes]

hi. it's sqh/yqy again. you're going to need to read the preceding segment of this for it to make sense.

1 - Critical Failure!

The thing about Yue Qingyuan was that he was really fucking good at this whole cultivation thing. It wasn't for nothing that OP protagonist son Bing-ge had to catch Yue Qingyuan in a trap first to get a good chance at killing him! Even now, years before he'd really hit his prime, Yue Qingyuan was the perfect model cultivator, with a strong and expertly trained body, and, relevantly to this situation, actually pretty fast and possessed of a very good reaction time.

All this to say, Shang Qinghua got out the window.

He did not get much further than the window, because Yue Qingyuan also dove out the window (gracefully!) and (less gracefully!) proceeded to bodily tackle Shang Qinghua.

There was some rolling and shouting and flailing involved. Let it not be said that Shang Qinghua went down without a fight! Or at least without some screaming and crying!

Yue Qingyuan still managed to pin Shang Qinghua down, because of course he did.

"I'm not a chair, stop sitting on me!"

"Just a moment, I really do--" Yue Qingyuan paused to deal with Shang Qinghua's elbow to his face and also slam it down so Shang Qinghua couldn't elbow him again -- "appreciate -- your concern. But there's really no need to bother Shen-shidi with these things, so if you could just -- hold still--"

"Hahaha, no way bro!" Shang Qinghua said, and bit him.

Was this a smart decision? Not really, but it sure was satisfying!

Yue Qingyuan made a noise that could have been an aborted swear. "Shang-shidi, I don't think that was necessary."

"Necessary is a subjective term!" Shang Qinghua said. "It's necessary to turn in paperwork, but have you seen how many people I need to chase down for that?? Clearly the definition isn't universal!"

"That's not the same --"

"It's absolutely the same!"

"You don't bite them!"

"And what if I did? Maybe I should!! Maybe they'll learn to fill out the requisition forms correctly then!!!"

"That isn't--" Yue Qingyuan exhaled. "This isn't... are you... still going to tell Qingqiu?"

"I don't know, am I???"

"It's... private. Please don't tell him."

"If I don't, will you?"

Yue Qingyuan laughed. It was an empty and unpleasant sound. "He wouldn't want me reminding him how I failed." His head drooped down, closer to Shang Qinghua's chest. "I broke my promise, Shang-shidi. Who wants to hear about that again?"

...Was Yue Qingyuan about to cry on him?

.Wow! This situation was already uncomfortable! It was about to get even more uncomfortable!

"If I say I won't," Shang Qinghua wheedled, "then will you get off me."

Having the thighs of a strong and beautiful cultivator on either side of him was the stuff of the shitty romance novels he still liked reading. Every man's dream! Super sexy! Except the romance novels never accounted for when the cultivator was about to have a nervous breakdown! Opposite of sexy, actually!

"You still want to tell him, don't you?" Yue Qingyuan said. "I don't think it'll be better that way. Even if it's you and not me -- especially if it's you and not me -- won't it be worse? Wouldn't he just be angry that I couldn't tell him myself?"

"Isn't this conversation pointless if you're not planning on telling him yourself?" Shang Qinghua said.

Yue Qingyuan looked down at him with big, sad eyes. "Qinghua, please don't say anything."

Ah? Aaah?? Was Yue Qingyuan trying puppy-dog eyes? That wasn't going to work, Yue-shixiong! Too bad! People did that on An Ding everyday! Shang Qinghua was immune! He had no sympathy!

"Don't cry on me," Shang Qinghua said.

Yue Qingyuan laughed again.

Somebody choked.

It was... not Shang Qinghua. It was very much a sound Shang Qinghua would make, but...

Shang Qinghua tilted his head back, and there it was. A little Qiong Ding disciple coming through the brush, scroll in hand, probably playing messenger boy. He was staring at them, wide-eyed and white-faced.

Shang Qinghua suddenly became horribly aware of his position -- Yue Qingyuan on top of him, straddling his hips, pinning his hands over his head, both of them disheveled and breathing hard. He'd been bucking up to try to get Yue Qingyuan off, but at first glance, it looked like... well, that he was, ha, trying to get Yue Qingyuan off. You know, the other way.

"Ah," Yue Qingyuan said, in the tone of someone who was experiencing the same revelation as Shang Qinghua and was just beginning to conceptualize the impact of it on his honorable and righteous reputation.

This would be really funny if Shang Qinghua was not involved.

"I see Da-shixiong is busy with private matters!" squeaked the little Qiong Ding shidi. "Sorry to interrupt! I'll come back later!"

"That's not necessary," Yue Qingyuan began, hastily straightening up. Ah, but that was too little, too late. Shidi was already way out of earshot and disappearing into the distance, clearly intent on respecting the privacy of Da-shixiong.

"So," Shang Qinghua said conversationally, "what are the chances your shidi is going to tell everyone not to disturb you because you're busy?" He put as much suggestiveness in the last word as he possibly could, just so Yue Qingyuan got the point.

Yue Qingyuan winced. "Yan-shidi is... not subtle."

"So everyone's going to know this happened."

"... Likely, yes."

"And they're all going to think we were about to fuck nasty outside."

"Um," Yue Qingyuan said.

Yue Qingyuan was still sitting on him.

Shang Qinghua let the back of his head hit the ground with a thump. "Fuck."

#sqh/yqy #svsss #my writing #shang qinghua #yue qingyuan

[lovelyyandereaddictionpoint]

I have a bit of a dumb request, sorry if I'm bothering you/requests are closed!

So you know how in some species of animal the male will kill the children after they're born? How would Yandere Malleus, Leona and Jamil react to their pregnant + beastman darling trying to run away then in an argument the darling just goes "I won't let you hurt my baby!"

"I won't let you hurt my baby!" | Yandere Twisted Wonderland

Malleus Draconia

"I wouldn't dream of it! Please, my love, rest easy."

He'd never hurt the product of your love

and you wouldn't be escaping by any means necessary

To be honest, fae-dragons aren't something the world has in abundance

he's possessive like most dragons, so you'd think he wouldn't be open to there being anyone soaking up your attention

but dragons are also lonely and so is he

So having more people not-so willing to be around him is great

Not to mention its just further proof of his ownership over you

He's not going to hurt you or your baby

In fact, he's more willing to start the apocalypse

"I'd freeze all of Twisted Wonderland before hurting either of my loves."

Leona Kingscholar

"Well, now I just want them gone even more!"

It was a passing thought

To end your child

All he really registers in your pregnancy is that you're more complacent and cuter than usual

And when his in-the-know assistant Ruggie brings up the concern

he grumbles about it

"I hate kids."

You running from him or worse being close to success in your escape makes everything worse

He's really mad and threatens to take it out on your kid

He's just so tempted to fling the little bundle off the balcony but your face looks to painful despicable begging

But just because he'd rather not see his mate beg

He hates how the sting of jealousy pierces his heart

And how devastated you are about this little booger

Don't despair though, he can come to like the child

But it'll take time...he's not fond of kids....but this his kid

his and your kid

He'll protect him only because of you

but you need to satisfy his needs first

The kid will come later, like his love for them

"For our kid, it's not entirely hideous...he has your eyes."

Jamil Viper

"That hurts (Y/n), don't you realize it only helps my goals?"

He wants you

That's really all

A kid just reinforces that

Not to mention you’re just so much easier to sway when your sleep deprived of caring for a baby

He thrives on control and thus is quite pleased for this baby

"No, no I'm incredibly pleased."

On a deeper level, he doesn't want his kid to get caught up in servant-hood

So he's going to enjoy them in their later years

Especially because they'll be open to his...persuasion

But he will tease you about possibly harming them

if only to keep you complacent

"Don't cry. I won't hurt them as long as you obey...can you do that for me (Y/n)?"

#yandere twisted wonderland x reader #yandere twst malleus #yandere twst x reader #yandere jamil x reader #yandere jamil viper #yandere malleus draconia #yandere leona kingscholar #yandere leona kingscholar x reader #yandere leona x reader #yandere x reader #yandere malleus x reader #yandere malleus #yandere jamil #lovelyyandereaddictionpoint

[stxrvel]

i don't wanna live forever (4)

summary: with the winter soldier in action, you couldn't believe who the person behind the mask was

pairing: bucky barnes x avenger!f!reader

words: 5k

warnings: descriptions of weapons, wounds and blood. i'm not that good narrating action scenes but i tried my best! a russian word poorly translated i'm sorry if it's wrong :(, also English is not my first language so sorry for any mistakes!

note: so we are finally here. the secret's out. i'm just figuring by now that this fic is probably gonna take longer than i expected, but i hope it'll turn out as we all want it! thank u as always for all the support and see u next time! if you guys ever have any questions or request feel free to dm me!

part 1 ; part 2 ; part 3 ; part 5

Another two weeks went by and the wound was practically healed. It was uncomfortable to touch, and you could feel a little pressure inside from the contact with the vibranium. But other than that, you were able to live a normal life.

Fury had informed you in a phone call that you would be on your way back to Washington that day. The agents had no news about the soldier, neither about the places you had visited, nor about the purchase of vibranium in the vicinity of Siberia. With the strong possibility of an assassin on your trail, you were back to square one.

Steve had returned three days earlier, having gone on a mission with Natasha Romanoff, and Fury had left the Helicarrier the day after Steve left, assuring you that he would arrange for you to return to the mainland once the doctors had cleared you.

Of course, you hadn't reckoned on the fact that on your arrival at your apartment, just across from Steve's, everything would be a mess.

Your friend hasn't answered your phone calls, despite your insistence for about twenty minutes, nor has he answered your constant knocking on his apartment door. His inability to reach you puzzled you. The last message you received from him was that he would be waiting for your message to pick you up, which never happened, even though you called him for an hour.

Worried, especially when Nicholas didn't answer your calls either, you found yourself on your way to the Triskelion looking for answers when the burner phone you always carried in your jacket or one of your pockets rang as you were about to walk out of the building.

“Hill,” you answered immediately, relieved that someone was finally trying to get in touch with you.

“Act natural. I want you to leave the building and go to the black van on the left corner. Get in the passenger seat.”

You obeyed, the strange absence of Steve and Fury making more sense in the light of the events of the last few weeks. It had to be him.

You quickly spotted Hill's van and walked towards it, shielding your eyes from the sun with one hand, not bothering to look elsewhere. You got into the car in silence, Hill started the engine and drove down the avenue in silence.

“What's going on?” you asked after several minutes of tense silence.

You noticed Maria's disgruntled face, something that is not usually very clear unless the situation they are in is insurmountable.

“Is it him?” you spoke again at her silence, a layer of cold sweat settling on your hands as you saw her pursing her lips.

“Yes,” Maria nodded, never taking her eyes off the rearview mirror. “He's here.”

“Where's Steve?” your voice almost came out on a thread, fearing the answer was worse than imagined possible. You knew this was coming, but so soon? You felt nauseous at the thought of meeting him once again.

“He escaped with Romanoff,” Maria took a turn, accelerating the car's speed. “They're fine.”

“And Fury?”

“The soldier tried to kill him. Twice.”

You let out a choked exclamation, covering your mouth with both your hands in surprise.

“He's alive,” Hill tried to calm you, when you felt like your heart was going to jump out of your throat. You tried to feel the relief her words brought, but the choking sensation kept growing as the seconds passed. “Steve and Natasha don't know, though. We have to let them think Fury is dead, only then can we get some leverage.”

“God, all this happened in two days?”

“And whatever else is coming. We don't know where he's at or who he's moving near,” Maria shook her head, realizing just barely that you'd left a bit of the suburbs behind. “Fury wants you here.”

A sort of abandoned dam gaped through the trees. Hill pulled the car to the left, hiding it between long logs and bushes.

“What's this supposed to be?”

“You can call it another secret section of SHIELD... or Fury's,” Maria closed the trunk of the car, where she'd been rummaging through something as you climbed down, handing you a bulletproof vest that you didn't hesitate a second to adjust around your torso. “How's the wound?”

“It only hurts to the touch. But I can move fine.”

“Who knew the Supersoldier's weakness would be vibranium.”

Maria opened an unlocked metal fence, mentally wondering if this was really such a safe place to have no security of any kind. A long hallway stretched out in front of you, which felt eternal under the yellow lights, until you turned at the bottom right and there he was. Nicholas Fury.

“What the fuck happened to you?”

“Whatever you did to the soldier, I already made it worse,” Fury coughed, the slight movement of his body causing him to grimace in poorly disguised pain. “Now he's looking to kill us all.”

“And what did you do?”

“Alexander Pierce,” was all he answered, sharing a look with Hill that you didn't know how to decipher.

“The... secretary?”

“Remember Peggy's theory that we could never prove?”

Fury spoke again, your attention completely directed at him. Of course you remembered that. And of course you remembered the way you had flatly denied that possibility out of fear of what that would mean for your friends' legacy. To Steve's legacy. To Bucky's legacy.

There was no need to elaborate, with one look from the Director you knew exactly what he meant.

“Alexander Pierce tried to kill you?”

“It's him, Y/N. The Winter Soldier was the one who killed Howard and Maria Stark in order to get the serum to HYDRA, to create more supersoldiers.”

“We're infiltrated by double agents, that's why it was always so hard to uncover them,” Maria continued, her words barely echoing in your head, never breaking your gaze from Fury.

Eyes crystallizing, you never felt so helpless as you remembered that you had it in your hands to avenge their deaths and didn't. And now he was here, seeking to claim more innocent lives for the benefit of a nefarious organization. No, no, that wasn't going to happen.

“Let me go.”

“No.”

“Fury.”

“No.”

“Nicholas.”

“No, Y/N. You just barely recovered from that vibranium wound, and you want to risk being face to face with that monster again?”

“I wasn't ready at the moment, but I am now. Nicholas, please. I can't sit idly by when Howard's killer is out there,” you frowned at him, your anguished, desperate voice nothing more a reflection of everything you felt in your chest. But Fury was shaking his head once again, ready to give way to no excuses.

“I can't risk you like this again,” Fury barely murmured, your ears catching the words clearly.

“But I won't be alone. Steve and Natasha are there.”

“And they're hiding, too,” Fury assured, clasping his hands over his abdomen.

You frowned, your back slumping against the back of the chair. Hill's sympathetic look on the other side of Fury's gurney angered you. How could they think the best decision was to leave you behind? You weren't the one lying prostrate on a gurney with a bunch of broken bones.

“They're closer to the lion's den than I am right now.”

“But them the soldier doesn't know yet,” Fury pointed at you accusingly, rearranging himself on the bed with a grimace.

You looked at Fury, his one eye daring you to contradict him. It was probably true, you weren't going to deny it. But that didn't give them too much of an advantage, if it was true that many SHIELD agents really were part of HYDRA. Natasha and Steve wouldn't be able to do much if, in addition to the soldier, a hundred double agents showed up to stop them. Maybe even the three of them wouldn't be enough, but you weren't willing to stand by and do nothing. Not when you had the opportunity so close. Fury might not see it the same way, but you couldn't demand it of him when he hadn't gone through what you had gone through so many years before. He didn't see the blank stare of a young Tony, regretting and chastising himself for what had happened, for something completely out of his control.

Fury wasn't going to accede to your wishes, that much was certain. But the good thing was that as a protected subject of SHIELD, you had your own wild cards within the agency, like bypassing the Director's orders when you saw fit, as in the case of anything deemed an emergency.

“Well, try to stop me.”

You stood up, turned around and started walking in the direction of the exit, the expansive hallway welcoming you once again.

“Y/N,” Fury exclaimed, his body leaning forward as if he had truly believed he could follow you with so many wounds on his body. “Hill.”

As Maria approached you, you raised your hand, her feet stopping almost instantly.

“No,” you looked at her and then looked back at Fury.

“Fuck, Agent Carter really has no idea what she did giving you those powers.”

“You know damn well I can take good care of myself, just as well as she can. I'm not going to let him get away this time.”

“That's what worries me. You're so consumed by this idea of revenge that you'd sacrifice anything.”

“And you wouldn't?”

Fury frowned, the words he intended to counterattack with dying in his throat.

“If you'd had to go through the death of one of your best friends, knowing it had been a murder that would never be investigated as such and go unpunished. When after spending years and years trying to seek justice, life brings you home empty-handed. Do you have any idea how that feels, Nicholas? Maybe I'd be willing to sacrifice anything to punish the killer of Tony's parents, yes, but I swear I'm not leaving this world if I don't take him with me.”

The man on the gurney sighed, sharing a look with Hill to which she responded by lifting her shoulders. The defeated sigh Fury let out was enough of an answer you needed, but he added:

“Let me tell you something first.”

-

You were trying to follow the black car that was moving at high speed across the bridge. You had no way of communicating with Steve because he clearly didn't have his burner phone with him and neither did Natasha, as Hill had tried to contact her before meeting you with no result.

You had identified four people in the car, one of them being Natasha's reddish hair, before an armored van completely blocked your view. Steve must've been with her in the car, but you had no idea who the other two people accompanying them were.

That is, until you saw him.

The Winter Soldier, getting out of the armored van and moving to jump into the black car where Steve and Natasha were, the panic that ran through your body forcing you to press the accelerator to the maximum.

Despite the armored van blocking your path, you could tell from the left as the soldier smashed the back door glass, your blood freezing for a minute until you recognized Jasper Sitwell flying out through the window, courtesy of the tug the soldier gave him until he landed in the opposite lane of the bridge.

The sound of gunfire alerted you, moving to try to pass the van once again, when you heard a car brake followed by the screech of metal against the ground. The van suddenly sped up, clearing a path for you now that it didn't seem focused on blocking your way, and you caught up to its pace by the time it slammed into the trunk of the car Steve was in. The pickup took the car over the front, with the soldier gaining momentum to get on the roof of the car and not resting until he was able to wrench off the steering wheel and turn back to get into the armored truck.

You kept pace with the van, trying to catch up with the black car, when a second hit on the trunk caused them to lose control of the car. You slammed on the brakes when, before your heart could leap out of your mouth, you saw three people roll against the road using one of the car doors. You didn't have time to react when the soldier threw a grenade in the direction of your companions, Steve pushing Natasha and the impact pushing him so hard that he ended up flying under the bridge.

You opened the car door, getting out as quickly as possible and impacting Natasha in the process. Neither of you had time to say anything as the hail of bullets began.

“Run,” you exclaimed over the noise, pointing to the opposite lane of the bridge. “I'll cover you.”

You pulled out the dual pistols you packed in your belt, using your car as a shield as you fired in the direction of the soldier and his henchmen, hoping Natasha hadn't wasted a single minute. However, with the grenade launcher at hand, it was hard for you to get far. The moment Natasha jumped off the bridge, you didn't waste a second running in the direction Steve had fallen when the shell hit him, the sound of the bullets barely grazing you, the soldier in your peripheral vision walking in your direction.

You found Natasha the moment you hit the ground, the serum helping you keep your balance and she wasted no time in grabbing your arm to pull you into the shade.

“He's a fucking lunatic,” Natasha pointed at his shadow over the bridge at you, moving in stealth for both of you to shoot when his gaze was on a bus that had overturned.

If you hit him, there was no time to know, running straight for cover behind the bus. When the sound of bullets returned, a mutual nod between Natasha and you was enough for both of you to aim directly at the soldier, firing repeatedly.

“Run,” Natasha exclaimed, her pistols steady in her hands.

You wasted no time, instantly moving in the direction of the sidewalk, firing sporadically backwards to get Natasha to your side.

“How did you get here?” the overloaded, muffled voice of Natasha startled you, finding her crouching next to a car activating the voice engine of a holopad.

“All SHIELD cars have a tracker,” you barely replied, trying to keep your breathing in check, glancing over your shoulder in the direction they had left the soldier.

Natasha made an affirmative sound, leaving the holopad with a voice recording right at the bottom of a car tire.

“This will give us enough time to take him by surprise. Come on,” she moved to the other side of the sidewalk, moving between the altered bodies of civilians to camouflage herself before finding cover behind one of the cars, her feline gaze fixed on the approaching soldier. “If Steve finds out you're here, he's going to fall on his ass.”

“I've been in worse battles.”

“Girl, you have no idea what we've seen.”

You frowned at her, the mystery behind her words leaving much to be desired. Before the soldier got any closer, when he was distracted falling into Natasha's trap, she signaled you with two fingers to move to the right, down the path they had taken to get there, and you knew she was expecting she couldn't hold him off for long and needed you for support.

When the bomb behind the car exploded, Natasha jumped over the car and took the soldier by surprise falling on his shoulders, both struggling hard until he threw her against a car ready to shoot her, when Natasha threw a small shock device at him that neutralized his arm and gave him enough time to gesture a run in your direction.

Natasha took the lead, alerting the civilians and trying to get as far away from the soldier as she could, when one of his bullets hit her and you cursed between your teeth. You watched him move to the right, looking to shoot Natasha from behind and didn't think twice before you took momentum and jumped on him, crossing your legs around his torso and using your right arm to cut off his breath.

He dropped his weapon, the thud attracting the redhead's attention. You barely managed to make a running gesture with your hands as the soldier slammed into your side until your legs gave way from his grip and, grabbing you from torso height, flipped you over until you crashed your back against the hood of the car you two had been struggling over.

When you saw him pull one of his knives out of his pants, you arched up quickly, jumping out of the car and taking a defensive position in front of him, who had remained kneeling in front of the place you had occupied.

Just at that moment you noticed that part of his mask had fallen off, finding yourself face to face with blue eyes that almost made you lose your balance.

God, those eyes felt so familiar. If it wasn't because you knew he had died you would believe it was him, because you would recognize those eyes anywhere in the world.

The soldier stood up, getting out of the car and approaching you as if you were his prey.

“Zhivoy,” he muttered, moving the knife between his fingers and cocking his head to the side without taking his eyes off you. You recognized the Russian instantly, barely having a second to process it when the fight started.

You heard a curse behind you followed by quickened footsteps that you quickly recognized as Steve's, and that was enough of a distraction for the soldier to pounce on you.

You narrowly dodged his first attack, managing the speed to your advantage, ready to block it when he lunged a second time. His blade grazed your forearm, but the pain was nothing and you didn't let it distract you from attacking him, sending a strong kick into his torso after you neutralized one of his arms.

“What the fuck are you doing here?”

“Why don't you have your fucking burner phone?” overly concerned for your friend's well-being, you could barely process what he had told you, trying to pull more bullets from your belt to load one of your pistols, finding the cartridge completely empty. You both stared at the soldier, Steve ready to leap into action the moment he stood up.

“You shouldn't be here,” was what Steve said, before lunging at the soldier the moment that one put his feet on the ground.

You seized the moment to go to Natasha, pulling out of your pockets a spray painkiller that you knew you would need to apply to Natasha's shoulder.

“You really are prepared for anything.”

Around the chaos, you managed as best you could to move Natasha as far out of range of the mess as possible, and turned just barely to see the soldier throw Steve's shield at him, who dodged it just barely without stopping running. When you saw the knife in the soldier's hands, a scream almost left your throat.

Steve and the soldier began a hand to hand fight that you could barely follow, looking in every direction for anything that might help your friend. But with nothing but your own strength to defend him, you moved in his direction as the soldier lifted him by the neck and threw him.

About to fall with the fist of his metal arm, you pushed him to the side causing him to lose his balance, helping Steve to his feet before resuming the hand to hand.

The soldier passed his furious glare over you before heading straight for Steve, the same blond pushing you aside and meeting the soldier fist to fist.

You stepped in between the two once again as the soldier pulled out a blade and you intercepted his arm midway, hitting the weak spots necessary for his hand to open and release the blade. His blue eyes met yours for a second, before he furiously grabbed both of your hands by the wrists, which held his right hand, with his metal hand, to raise them above your head and send you to the ground with a kick to your entire torso. He didn't walk away without first exclaiming again, “Zhivoy.”

Steve snarled, once again taking possession of his shield and closing in on the soldier before he could approach you once more. Retrieving the blade from somewhere on his belt, you heard them struggling against each other, but only one thought kept running through your head, racing your heart in a panic.

His eyes are so like Bucky's.

But that couldn't be possible. Bucky's fall was not to survive, how could he have survived? Worse, how could he have survived to become that?

How could Bucky be the one responsible that you had been looking for for so many years?

Hating to allow senseless emotions to take over your rational side, you rose once more raising your legs and landing on your feet, just for the moment when Steve slammed his shield into the forearm of his metal arm and turned to grab the soldier on his back, pushing him with his own back so that he fell off the other side of the road.

But your breath caught in your throat as you heard his voice, barely a whimper before Steve sent him flying across. The blond turned to look at you in concern, for the sound you had let out almost sounded like a groan of pain, when your horrified gaze met his among the masses of air.

For a moment, it seemed like everything around you stopped.

Steve frowned and in a split second turned his head away, tears making their way into your eyes without you being able to take a moment to fully process what you were seeing. Everything sounded a little slower, Steve's defensiveness soon faltering as he understood why you had sent him that look.

The soldier's mask on the ground, his head turned in your direction, that face you never thought you'd see again.

“Bucky?” Steve was the one who spoke, in stupefaction, and the soldier's face contracted in anger.

“Who the hell is Bucky?”

With tears rolling down your cheeks and Steve's frozen stance, neither of you reacted when the soldier raised the gun in your direction, you for a split second regaining your consciousness and moving towards your friend when the sound of metal and a man appeared behind the soldier, large metal wings standing out behind the man who had just pushed the soldier out of the way.

You froze midway through holding Steve's arm, your hand sliding down his pants barely catching his attention.

The frightened look on the soldier's face, on Bucky's face, which he returned to them as he stood up, didn't stop you this time from reacting as he raised his gun at Steve once more, pulling your friend behind you, leaving your back exposed until you heard an explosion and noticed the pale Natasha a few steps behind, the missile launcher in her hands. You wanted to thank her, but you were too overwhelmed to think too much about it, to process fast enough what was happening. You had barely noticed that Steve had put the shield right behind you, holding you tightly against his chest.

When the explosion dissipated, the soldier was gone.

The sound of sirens and cars too far away, as Steve released his grip and looked in every direction he could to see if he could see him again. But the cars surrounded them with ease, Steve's clear eyes falling on yours, his expression a replica of yours, stupefaction and sadness reigning in them.

-

You didn't quite remember the journey or what had happened to make you end up back at the abandoned dam in front of Fury, Natasha finally having her shoulder tended to. They must've been talking for a while, because you felt their gazes on you, as heavy as the overwhelming pain that had fallen on your shoulders.

It couldn't be hard now. No. You couldn't back out after all these years… You really couldn't…

You couldn't even look Fury in the face.

When you felt a squeeze on your shoulder, even though you knew it was Steve, you couldn't find the strength to lift your head to look at him.

The conversation had moved to a nearby table and you were almost surprised to see Fury sitting there as if he didn't have some broken ribs, but you tried to pay attention because you couldn't risk failing at this plan.

“What's that?” the man standing to the side of Steve, who had introduced him to you as Sam a couple of minutes earlier, turned to Fury, who was showing the programming cards you were to use on the mission.

“Once the helicarriers reach nine hundred meters altitude, they will triangulate with the Project satellites and be weapons,” Maria explained to them, flipping her computer to show the plan visualization.

“Intercept those transporters and replace their targets with ours,” Fury complemented, the images becoming clearer on the blue screen.

“One or two won't be enough,” Maria spoke again, her eyes sweeping over those of everyone around. “We must intercept all three of them, because if one of those ships keeps running, a lot of people will die.”

Steve's hand found your shoulder again, apparently noticing how hard you were trying to stay present in the conversation, moving your intertwined hands on your lap tirelessly. Your head kept coming back to that moment in the road, his frightened look enlarging the hole in your chest, the uncertainty of not knowing what had happened to him after that, where he was at that moment, if he was even okay.

But at the same time the rejection, the sadness, the heaviness? How could you stand there and blame him when he didn't even seem to remember who he was? You had spent years looking for that culprit, looking to bring peace to the memory of Tony's parents, and now that you knew who he was, why didn't you feel calmer? Why did the pit in your stomach feel deeper and deeper? Why was your heart pounding with fear because you didn't know where he was?

“Look, I didn't know about Barnes,” Fury's words made you raise your head, his sorrowful gaze directed at your friend and momentarily passing over you. Steve's hand on your shoulder tensed slightly, leaning forward a little, his attitude more hostile than you remembered in the few minutes you'd left the conversation.

“Even if you had known, would you have told us? Or would you have compartmentalized too?” Steve's hard expression gave way to no claim, his hand firm on your shoulder. “SHIELD, HYDRA… it will all go away.”

-

The green views from the dam's high trail were pretty enough that you could distract your mind for a moment, the weight of Steve's presence at your side keeping you anchored to reality.

“Y/N,” Steve was the first to speak after spending several seconds in silence, his arms resting on the railing with his hands clasped together. “There was something I heard about and I… I don't know how to process it, but I think you have the answer.”

Your body didn't bother to react to his words, barely shaking your head in a subtle nod prompting him to speak.

“With Natasha we used a flash drive that led us to the coordinates of some… old SHIELD facility. There, at the time, Zola was alive,” Steve paused, your brow barely furrowing as the information caught your attention. “Well, his brain was alive because of technology. Everything was a machine. But the point is, he said something, that HYDRA makes a lot of things look like accidents when they're not, and he showed us a picture of Howard and Maria's accident.”

You half-opened your lips, taking a deep breath, too emotionally drained to care too much about what you knew he was going to ask.

“Maybe I wouldn't have made the connection if I hadn't stayed in that room to listen to you and Fury, but those mystery accidents you said were connected to the Winter Soldier, was theirs one of those?”

You felt his gaze on your profile as a lone tear ran down your cheek. There was nothing more you could say to him, at that point it was more than fair for you to give him a concrete answer.

“That's why you stayed after Howard's funeral, besides Peggy. She told me you had spent a lot of time investigating something you couldn't tell Tony. That's why you're running away from him everytime.”

Surely it was because you felt guilty, but more tears ran down your cheeks as Steve beside you only sighed.

“Why didn't you just… tell me?”

“I don't know, I didn't… I didn't want you to carry that around. You'd barely been back, knowing about his death had to be too much already, and I couldn't add to the fact that it hadn't been an accident. You have no idea how long I've been carrying this weight on my shoulders trying to find the culprit… and now… now this…”

“I wouldn't have minded sharing that with you,” Steve frowned. “It would've helped either way.”

“I'm sorry," you whispered in the middle of a sob, his deep breath sounding close as he wrapped his arms around your shoulders. “I'm so sorry, Steve.”

“It's okay, it's okay,” his soothing, comforting voice sent you spiraling, not understanding how he could put it all aside and accept your apology without further explanation. His hand running up and down your back caused emotions to explode inside you, your body breaking into a sob that Steve was already expecting, his arms holding you tightly as you cried your soul out.

You didn't deserve someone like him in your life. You seemed to be doing him more harm than good.

-

tag: @rubyxx16

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky fanfic #bucky barnes #bucky x you #bucky fluff #james bucky barnes #bucky x reader #bucky fic #bucky barnes angst #bucky #james bucky buchanan barnes #winter soldier #the winter soldier #steve rogers #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes fanfiction #captain america

[luveline]

Hey jade!! i love your writing so much<3

Also what do you think of prison!spencer × Stripper!reader?👀

im not sure if this is what you meant but I hope you like it ♡ fem, 1.2k

"Too much," you murmur to yourself, tilting your head one way and then the other. The bags under your eyes have been dark lately from a severe lack of sleep, but all this makeup won't help make tips. "Way too much." 

You lean back to ask one of the girls for a wet wipe but the dressing room is empty. Swearing to yourself, you duck down for your bag. You have tissues, and they'll have to do it. 

Things have been hard since Spencer's… event. You don't sleep well without him, worse wondering what it is he's going through right now. His friends don't really know that you're seeing one another, and so being kept in the loop has felt akin to begging for scraps. You miss Agent Hotchner in times like this. He always had a soft spot for you. 

You hum a song under your breath as you rub the cakey makeup under your eyes. Washing your face would be nice. Going home would be better. You've been trying to make some extra money in case Spencer never comes home; you won't have his security to fall back on if things fall apart here. 

You don't want his security. You just want him to come home. Sighing, you pick up your phone and open the gallery app. It's a second hand thing you got at a pawn shop but it has enough storage to keep as many blurry photos of your boyfriend as you'd like. Pictures of him everywhere and doing everything, his big smile like a beacon. 

You stop scrolling when you find the one you want. It's favourited with a red heart at the bottom of the screen. Spencer took it, you remember —you were too busy kissing his cheek to navigate the settings. He looks happy. You could never understand how happy he is to be with you, how through everything, a long time of knowing one another and a hundred thousand acts of a kindness you didn't deserve, he's stayed by your side. He doesn't care that you're a dancer. He's proud of your choices. He loves you for you, even if he does get a little jealous every now and then. 

You lay your phone down on the dressing table, cheek flat beside it. "Time to come home, Dr. Reid," you whisper. 

Your phone pings and you ignore it. It pings again and you turn off your notifications. It's probably Spencer's nice friend Penelope, or one of the girls wanting to borrow something. 

You shed your robe to look yourself over in the mirror. The lingerie you're in tonight's not to your taste but a fan favourite, the bra and underwear both plum in colour with lace and black garters to be clipped. You turn to one side and narrow your gaze at a ladder running up your leg. 

You save a bottle of clear nail polish in your bag for this occasion. 

You're sitting on the floor with your leg out in front of you when someone knocks on the door. The girls don't knock. 

If it's a patron you have a taser, and besides, they don't usually knock either. A bouncer, then. 

"Come in, please!" you call lightly. 

You don't bother looking up, a creature of habit. It'll be the same thing as usual, insert man wants to buy insert dance from you for insert amount of time. Are you interested? 

You hum as you paint the rip in your garter. The nail polish will stop it from ripping any further, but you're going to need new ones. 

"You're prettier than when I left. How did you do that?" 

You tip the bottle over as you flinch, you don't care, you look up at the compliment and the familiar voice, and find Spencer standing in the doorway. 

You've pictured this moment multiple times a day since the day he was arrested, hundreds of reactions. In pretty much all of them you throw yourself into his arms and beg him not to leave again, but all those hours of missing him coalesce on top of you. You want desperately to touch him and you end up crying into your hands instead. Tears quicker than you knew they could arrive, hot and thick as your sob. 

"Hey," Spencer says, kneeling down in front of you. He takes your wrists into his hands. "Hey… don't cry." 

You can't help it. 

He wraps his arms around you and lets you sob. "I thought you'd be happy to see me," he murmurs. 

"I missed you," you say, the words dragged from you like agony on a hook. 

"I missed you too." He rubs your back. If he cares that you're in your underwear he doesn't have much to say about it. He eventually started making jokes about all of this stuff when he realised you wouldn't be offended, but he's never cruel about anything. He's far from it now, pulling your shoulder into his chest as he pats your arms. "I'm sorry, honey. I'm really sorry. It got out of control. But, on the bright side…" 

You sniffle and pull your gaze up to his face. When you see the hollows of his cheeks you almost start crying again. "What?" you ask. 

"Well, now I'm cool enough to be your boyfriend." 

You push him backwards and crawl into his lap, knees on either side of him, weight against his abdomen. Your arms weave behind his head and you push your cheek into his likely too hard to be painless. He just sighs in relief. 

"Do you have something in your pocket?" you whisper, your voice stuffy. "Or was prison very hard?" 

He laughs and digs in between you to pull the little box that had been digging into you out of his pocket. "It's for you." 

"Don't want it." 

"I don't care if you want it. I missed our anniversary." 

"I missed you," you say, clinging to him for dear life.

You can't stop hugging him long enough to look. 

Eventually, he peels you off of the floor and you get dressed to go home with him. It takes a long time —you keep stopping to hug him between items of clothing, checking that he's real, that's he's him, even if he looks different now. He has to take the reins or you'll never make it home, pulling your coat over your shoulders and zipping it closed. 

When he's done, he takes your face into both hands. "You've been safe while I was gone? No trouble?" he asks. 

"Nobody messes with me. My boyfriend's in the FBI." 

"Well, we're taking a vacation." He blows out a big breath. "Jesus, I'm sorry, but I really need to kiss you right now." 

"Even though I look junky?" 

"You look perfect." He kisses you before he's finished, his praise smothered by your lips. He kisses you so hard you can't breathe by the end of it. "I'm sorry," he says, pressing a softer one under your eye. "Prison was actually pretty hard." You lean in, lingering nose to nose with him. "I couldn't sleep without you near me." 

"You're only saying that 'cos you saw me in my underwear." 

"Yeah, that's exactly why." He practically giggles. "No, I just love you."

You couldn't sleep without him either. You get home and sleep for days, tangled with each other in bedraggled sheets. 

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid oneshot #spencer reid scenario #spencer reid drabble #spencer reid fic #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds #criminal minds fic #criminal minds x reader

[nateofgreat]

An Examination of Emerie Karr

Emerie's character is pretty interesting so far. I know this is a post about three people will read but I wanted to examine the writing a bit.

Docility

The first thing that sticks out is how docile Emerie is from her attitude down to her mannerisms. Her poise and movements are reserved, she almost always looks straight ahead, she doesn't emote much, etc.

Emerie follows all the rules and encourages everyone else to do the same but it doesn't seem to be out of a sense of zeal. Maybe she believes in what she's doing and maybe she doesn't, but in her dialogue with characters like Crosshair and Omega she's always warning them that things will get worse for them if they resist. So it kind of seems like it's more out of a sense of fear, habit, or conditioning than genuine belief.

Backstory

What we know about Emerie Karr so far is that she was taken from Kamino by Dr. Hemlock who claimed to have seen potential in her. We can assume she had a similar role to Omega as a medical/research assistant.

We don't know if she has accelerated aging or not; if she does, she'd (chronologically) be about as old as Omega while if she doesn't she'd be twice her age. In either case, it's implied that she's been with Hemlock since she was a little girl.

Furthermore, she didn't seem to see the way Omega was being treated when she was at Mt. Tantiss as unusual. So we can assume she was was treated the same growing up. No toys, a small room, a daily routine performing various tasks, a curfew, confinement, etc.

We already saw that Omega was starting to become beaten down by the routine there. So imagine that from childhood to adulthood.

Relationships

Emerie's not shown (directly or in the background) to interact with anyone other than Omega outside of a professional context. There's no comradery in Mt. Tantiss like there was in Kamino and Hemlock's certainly not a warm, fatherly figure. Now he does seem to think she's intelligent and capable, but doesn't really talk to her in a friendly way, arguably he doesn't even talk about her like she's a person at all; just an asset.

Emerie seems to have some kind of respect for him for seeing potential in her but comes across pretty lonely otherwise.

So when Omega was brought to Mt. Tantiss, Emerie seemed genuinely interested in connecting with her. First off, she was initially confused that Omega felt a greater connection to Crosshair than her despite them being sisters. So, she really doesn't know much about relationships, she just knows that Omega's her sister and wants to have a good relationship with her.

She consistently spends time with Omega through her stay in Mt. Tantiss, we can assume it's her job to wake her up in the morning so she can draw her blood but other than that it looks like she chooses to visit her at times. She's the only one who's shown to do this, and even half breaks protocol when Omega escapes by trying to talk her down first. Again, her reasoning is that it'll get worse for Omega if she gets caught.

Cracks in the armor (AKA her good side)

Despite all this Emerie's not a robot. Her feelings are suppressed, but they're still there. Unlike other Imperial officials she refers to the clones she's been shown to interact with by name, if she knows it. So, at the very least she recognizes them as sentient and shows some concern for them, like she tried to convince Crosshair to surrender for fear he'd make his situation worse.

Of course, Emerie has a soft spot for Omega, spending time with her when able and even (uncharacteristically) breaking a rule to save her toy for her. Which is the most independence we've shown her act with so far in the series.

And while she ultimately makes the wrong choice, Emerie tried to persuade Omega and Crosshair to stay instead of instantly sounding the alarm when she saw they were gone. Which, again, is an uncharacteristic break in protocol for her.

Ambiguously she also stops them from being shot down at the end of Episode 3, which could be seen either as her doing her job (because she realized Omega's a viable subject), her using the discovery to save them because she cares, or a bit of both.

Conclusion

I think Emerie could go either way. She could be a cautionary tale about how Omega could've turned out if she either stayed on Kamino or was taken by Hemlock instead of being saved by the Bad Batch. Or she could redeem herself and break away instead.

I don't know, but I like the character so far. She's pretty interesting.

#Star Wars #tbb #The Bad Batch #tbb spoilers #Emerie Karr #tbb Emerie Karr #SW tbb #tbb Omega #Bad Batch Omega #tbb Crosshair #Bad Batch Crosshair #Royce Hemlock #Dr Hemlock

[topaz-mutiny]

I think the fans are underestimating how differently people can process things.

I am consistently seeing posts say "Ashton/Tal were repeatedly warned the shard was not for them/will 100% kill them", when this was absolutely not the case, and, more importantly, it is very likely for groups of people to completely misinterpret the warnings. Even if they've known each other and loved each other for a decade.

I certainly thought the warnings were not clear or frequent enough so I was shocked like lightning in the latest episode that they were meant to be absolute death flags.

Please note that I'll mostly refer to the fictional characters, I don't want to bring the people behind the characters too much into this.

First, I would like to point out, the show takes place over weeks and months with plenty of breaks and interruptions. That is plenty of time and opportunity for memories to get faded, muddled, crossed-over with other memories, etc.

The "warnings" happened two weeks to a month ago. And even when they were fresh on the cast's mind, here are the warnings verbatim (bold is my emphasis):

But be warned, holding the strength of the two in one vessel might sunder it. You bear the dormant strength of the empress. Find and bestow the might of the emperor.

- Evontra'vir, episode 74, aired October 5th. The conversations move on to unrelated things with no followup.

Ashton: He also said it might be dangerous for these two shards to intermingle. Or he didn't say dangerous, he said that-- it could destroy me. Orym: --A chance the vessel could break. Laudna: --The vessel <air quotes> could break. Fearne: Wasn't there something if you put them together with the right thing that it'll be okay? Ashton: It might come together and be okay, yeah. -- Dancer: Maybe if it were to meet one of its own ilk, it could awaken. Allura: What you said as a point of warning likely is true. To have both within a singular vessel, it's possible one could survive, but it's also highly possible that it would rend you into a thousand pieces. -- Allura: We're in a strange area of experimentation and unknown knowledge. -- (after finding out Ashton has a fascimile of a Luxon beacon in their brain) FCG: So he's got two things in him or them? Allura: It would seem, which is why I'm a bit--Well, you're either the greatest weapon we could hope for in this time, or will be our end. I couldn't tell you. Orym: Boy, maybe we don't add a third thing. Ashton: I was put together by bits and pieces. This was not an intentional thing and it, I honestly shouldn't have survived it. It was, literally, I was put together with junk. Allura: In an odd way, your fragmented nature might be what keeps all of this in check. ... Perhaps we don't put another powerful entity within your form.

- Various, episode 76, aired October 19th.

To me, these warnings were not clear in the slightest.

To me, these warnings were interspersed with so many words like "possible", "might", and "chance" that I completely misinterpreted the situation as "For Ashton it is dangerous but doable" instead of "The Game Master is telling you Ashton's character sheet will be ripped up."

This is the problem with using in-character voices and using descriptors that imply chance or flexibility. They can drastically weaken the meaning of a phrase such that people like me will mistake it for something else.

Because that's how my brain works. "May", "chance", "perhaps" suggest to me a reasonable set of odds for an action and does not come across as the grave warning a game master would want.

And as a reminder, these muddled warnings were weeks apart and weeks away, which can make remembering the meaning even worse if you've already misinterpreted them. That's why I was 100% on board with Ashton taking the shard. It seemed reasonable but dangerous, so when Matt said "I warned you." in that grave tone and with that grave look I was thrown for a loop. I went "oh no! those were serious warnings!?" and the panic started setting in.

Also a contributing factor was the pressure and lack of communication from Bells Hells.

Fearne did not want the shard, and finally stated that thought aloud to Ashton. For Fearne and Ashton, that meant the only choice left was Ashton, because, for one reason or another, the 5 other people in Bells Hells repeatedly assumed and pushed the shard onto Fearne and wrote themselves out of the equasion. FIVE characters absolved themselves of being active participants. Once the idea of Fearne came to mind and this Emperor Fearne/Empress Ashton/Callowmoore shipping dicotomy, Bells Hells just stopped talking about it and never once considered if any of them should take the shard should Fearne refuse.

So... yeah that's how my brain works.

#critical role #cr spoilers #critical role spoilers #c3e77 #ashton greymoore #fearne calloway #bells hells #evontra'vir #taliesin jaffe #matthew mercer #communication breakdown #tl;dr Bells Hells needs to talk to each other more instead of just assuming how things will be #do you want explosions and dead PCs? that's how you get explosions and dead PCs. #people will think differently and can misinterpret what you say #even this loving group of 8 people can misinterpret each other despite being together for like a decade #tbh I thought the shard going to Orym would've been ideal #I might repost this for the Monday crew idk

[crabonfire]

Scout falling for reader

characters: scout

tags: fluff

note: writing this on a whim and ignoring all the other drafts I really wanted to write! also hi :)

I was writing an enemies to lovers but um....maybe later

I have a love for scout okay :( I'm sorryyyyyyyyy ill do full characters right after this one (I'm in a writing mood for once in years)

and of course reblogs and comments very much appreciated <3

♡Scout♡

• You were really the only true friend he had in the base. He considered all the other mercs his friend too but, he knew they'd never really share that friendship. He felt appreciated, and had someone to talk to who would really listen to him, not finding him stupid like the others do.

• He didn't realize he fell for you. The last time he fell for someone he acted shy, aloof, awkward and honestly embarrassed himself a little. He never knew what to say. So it took him a while to figure out he liked you, because whenever you two spoke, words always came so easily to him.

• The day he truly does realize his feelings though, is a day like any other. Your team, victorious, going out for drinks at the local bar. Scout could never handle himself well to alcohol, and you didn't really seem to be a drinker either. You two were sitting outside for the most part, laughing and making fun of the other team, as well as you listened to him ramble on his accomplishments of the day.

• Though, something lingered on his mind. A question he really thought about for a while. He knew you wouldn't judge, so he asked you your opinion.

"How long do you think we're gonna have to do this for?"

• You turned to him, confused. He continues.

"Fighting. Like- how long do you think it'll take before it's over? I'm not sayin' I don't enjoy kicking the other teams ass or the money we get, but well- I don't know."

Anytime he asked this question, Spy, Demo, everyone in the team really, all just said "not to think about it and to do it until it's done." He was never satisfied with that answer.

He saw how you contemplated it for a moment, seeing a small smile curl onto your lips when you looked back at him to reply.

"I don't know. It's probably for a bit longer, I mean- it's been 2 years. Pretty sure there were mercs before us who fought for this stupid war.*

You paused, "Why? You wanna quit or something?"

He shook his head. "Quit being able to kill people for a bunch of money? No way! I just- I think of doing other stuff. We barely have any free time and I don't wanna do this stuff till I'm old or something. And I know old- just look at Spy. He's probably from the ice age or somethin'."

• You snorted, chuckling a little at his comment. He smiled, he always liked to see you laughing at his jokes, made him feel funnier than he really was. You mirrored his smile, turning to look at the road. The night was a bluish gray, a striking contrast to the liveliness and warmth the bar brought.

"I get it."

It went quiet, he wondered if that was it.

"I don't wanna grow old and retire from this job either. But I don't think it'll be so bad."

"Really? Why?" He asked.

• He saw the way you turned to look at him, that same smile he knew all too well, one side of your face shone so brightly under the bars lighting while the other side was slightly masked with moonlight. Your reply was so simple, but it made his heart race.

"You'll be there. And I guess having you around makes things less worse."

• He stared bashfully at you upon hearing those very words. His palms got sweatier than they usually did as he felt his chest tighten. You must've noticed, because you let out an embarrassed chuckle.

"Haha- that was corny as hell. Anyway, I'm gonna go get another pack of soda for us."

• You stood up and walked back to the bar, but he couldn't look away from where you sat before. His face felt warm, damn.

He didn't know what it was. Maybe it should've hit him sooner, the fact he had feelings for you. The fact that- whenever you pull him in for a hug, his heart beats a little bit faster. When you laugh with him he laughs just a little harder because your laugh is his favorite. That your playful fighting with each other, it really does mean a lot to him.

All he knew was from that day on, it became difficult to think of you without realizing everything it was he loved about you.

♡♡♡

I don't know how to write endings anyway scout fans here's your food I know it's been a while it's okay mama is here 🫂

and yesssss sigh don't worry there are other fics I'm writing 😪 just...wanted to do scout first as a practice :)

hope you enjoyed! reblogs and comments always appreciated, I'd love to know your own opinions of scout and such!!! #scoutlover

#tf2 #tf2 x reader #tf2 headcanons #tf2 scout #tf2 scout x reader #scout tf2 #team fortress 2 headcannons #team fortress 2 x reader #team fortress two #tf2 spy #putting spy in here cause LOL #fluff #friends to lovers #JKKKK theres no ending LOLLLL #lovers more like DOOMED YURIIII your honor scout is A GIRL!!!

[dairy-farmer]

Saw some NICE Reverse Robins Art? And just? Eldest Blood Son Damian Wayne? All the gorgeous of BOTH his parents? A man who never felt his position threatened by these younger children? But still had that oldest sibling "they're talking my Father's love and attention AWAY from me" drama? Grew up. Lost his Tim.

Was BETRAYED by his maternal family, when they brought Tim BACK, mad from the pits, and never told him. The whole alt-timeline. Edgy Red Hood Tim. Red Bird Jason. Robin Dick.

But!

Multiverse shenanigans? Who is THIS?! It's a Cannon-adjacent Tim! He's HEROICALLY sacrificed himself by tackling the megalomaniac of the decade, into the Multiverse Destroying Portal BEFORE it could fully charge! While he, said maniac, held the control panel. Thereby shutting it down.

There had been no other way.

He had expected to be ripped to molecules.

But here he is, on the sort of Shitty Roofing that can only be Gotham infrastructure. So? No time to tremble in the face of near oblivion. Gotta beat this fuckers ass so hard his ANCESTORS rethink their life choices. Tim drags himself up. And makes Gotham proud.

Which is how Darkwing (Damian's edgy self chosen name he's now stuck with until his Father retires.) Finds him. Half dead and beating up a clear Supervillian, wearing Bat gear. Good enough for Damian. He'll get answers AFTER the scoundrel in imprisoned.

Only Tim passes the fuck out.

Wakes up, in the cave, to his own? But slightly different? Face. Two things jump out. One, that God awful skunk strip Jason was permanently stuck with after the pits (that he refuses to admit, is kinda sexy). And Two, either this Tim started Testosterone WAY earlier, somehow managed to keep to all his scheduled shots dispite Superhero Craziness, OR... this lucky bastard is Cis Gendered.

Unless maybe not?

Hey, Me, pronouns. (He/Him.) Nevermind! Bastard it is! Fuck you! Why do YOU get all the luck? I have to take shots! (I DIED.) OH, boo hoo, WE'VE ALL DIED! Ya'aint special! *Tim on Tim verbal violence intensifies*

No one can tell if... they are? Bonding? Or hate each other. Someone should stop them. Unfortunately, it has to be Bruce. Which is how they learn: No, actually, he DOESN'T know what universe he's from. It's never come up before and they don't have the technology. He expected to die.

It was a one way trip.

Now they have a New/Extra Tim. There are Tim Twins. One is An Angry Bad Boy. And the other? Strangely sexy. The competence kinks are developing by the minute.

Worse, for Damian? This Tim seems... almost? Baffled? By his politeness? Seems to expect violence and aggression? And become utterly FACINATED by him, once he realizes its not coming. Damian has never been the center of someone's attention like this. Had someone hang off his every word like this. It's breeding... Thoughts he shouldn't be having.

And RR!Tim is getting jealous. That's HIM. He should be interested in HIM. THEIR shared lives. Not Mr "ooooh look at meee, the Perfect Soooon". Other Tim should be... be like his TWIN. His BROTHER. HIS other half. His!

Bruce? Hates that he sees what could have been, in this Tim. Calm and collected. Not raging and destructive. A good Detective. A perfect Robin. Dedicated to The Mission. Not the unhealing, raging, wounded animal his son has become. He wants to protect this Tim. Hold him close. Cherish him. But he also loves HIS Tim. He feels so greedy.

And Jason? It's like the Red Bird he looked up to is BACK. Not the raging monster that swings between hating him and ignoring him. Even better! This Tim looks at HIM like he's some sort of miracle! So he plays up the spunky, the cute. Crawls into his lap and chats. Gets to hang out. Be the center of his world. He... he's in LOVE. Already formulating a long term plan. Gonna marry this Tim and have a house and kids and a dog! It'll be perfect.

Baby Dick? Robin? Was EXHAUSTED trying to hold everything together. Trying to pretend he didn't notice the tensions. Play the performance of "cute baby brother" to distract and defuse. Then this Timmy came! And FIXED everything. Took Dicks job like he'd been doing it for YEARS. Smiled so pretty and perfect. Told him he didn't have to pretend.

Like he KNEW Dick. Better then anyone else.

So maybe Dick goes... a little crazy. Follows him. Smells his stuff. Wants to crawl into his bed and DO things. But! He's not the only one! Everyone is going crazy! Timmy does that to people, he's decided. But it's okay. They're TIM'S people. So it's okay if they go crazy for him.

And really? It's just a matter of who's control breaks first. Because Tim adores them but doesn't think they'd be interested. Tim is situationally dense as bricks. They love him anyway.

-🐼🐼🐼

all of them intent on this tim not realizing the tim of their universe will never let them get dibs 😩

#answered asks #asks #anonymous

[decolonize-the-left]

If Americans shouldn't vote for Biden what should they do instead? Vote for trump? Vote third party? Not vote?

(I know most people would probably ask you this in bad faith but I'm just really distraught at the state of politics and keep hearing people say "don't say he's the only option and don't support him" but there's never alternatives given and I don't know what an effective alternative could even be)

I think a good place to start that a lot of people are comfortable with is probably volunteering and petitioning for 3rd parties to make sure they Do have ballot access next year. So that ppl Can vote for someone else next year.

And yes, vote 3rd party this election. Or don't vote at all.

Besides that? Learn some basic defense and join protests. Support encampments and do things leftists say like join a union and organize your own community whether it be your schoolmates, coworkers, or all your friends and their friends.

Y'all see the news right?

Censorship and propaganda are rampant right now, along with transphobia and racism and even Nazis are back. Tensions are high to say the least and everyone is worked up about the election and Israel.

Figure out what you wish someone else would do and then do it. Is that de-arresting protesters? Organizing a bail fund, fighting cops and throwing tear gas back at them when they make things violent?

There's a lot to fight against and even more to fight for. Find what's worth fighting for (to you) and actually start fighting for it. Don't let cops or your principal or boss or anyone else stop you.

I think one of the most important things we can do right now is remind the government and those that serve the government that they won't take our rights so easily. That if they want to silence us then we're gonna make sure it'll hurt more than it'll help. That we can and will fight back.

And that's why it's so vital that we show them we won't settle either. We won't vote for Biden.

We settled for Clinton and look where that got us.

Does it feel like voting for more and more conservative blue candidates actually helped prevent harm? Or does it feel like you were manipulated and lied to?

Gonna be real, it feels like the government is a manipulative abuser and we're all it's gaslit victims who don't want to believe things are that bad just cuz he killed someone else instead of us.

Which is like...it doesn't mean good things for us that our government could do that and we'd rationalize it, you know?

How we want to get out of this fucked up dynamic is up to us. We work, we pay taxes, we listen to the governments rule of law, and still our government won't codify rights, our trans friends are being abused by the government, or it's banning apps with censorship. And the whole time it's telling us to shut up and be grateful it isn't worse.

Abusers never ever tell you that it could be better too. And they don't want you to know that. Cuz then you leave. And if you leave then they can't manipulate and abuse you.

So yeah. They'll shit on us for doing Anything that doesn't result in us staying, for doing anything that results in us choosing our own well being instead of theirs.

But that's what we need to do.

And you need support before you do that. That's what organizing is. It's like calling the besties who hype you up to leave your shitty ex. Except it's a bunch of people agreeing to support each other when they choose to stand up for something. Organizing is making sure there are people watching back and making sure if one of you is harmed or arrested that there'll be someone there to help bail you out.

The more people you have to bail you out, the less you have to worry about being outnumbered, spoken over, or physically stopped with force.

So yeah. Do that.

Organize. I hope I stressed that enough. The people on our front lines need us to be there for them as much we need Them to keep fighting for us.

Also since I'm here: make sure you and your friends don't talk shit about protesters even when they get violent and break shit. It's not abuse when the victim finally hits back at their abuser, it's self defense.

#asked #answered #idk #kinda just want politicians to start dying tbh

[dust-and-grave]

hng, i am so frustrated by this whole watcher tv situation. i've been chewing on it ever since i watched their announcement video yesterday + i've been looking around online at other fan reactions. i'm having a lot of thoughts so i guess i want to throw my two cents in + hope it'll make me feel better to talk about it a little.

i think we all agree that creators should be paid fairly for their work; however, not all work is created equal, right? if i commission an experienced (and thus high-demand) artist to do an oil painting of my cat, they might quote me $500+ to do that + it would be fair. if an artist with substantially less experience (and thus in lower demand) spends 30 seconds on a crayon rendition of my cat, should they also received $500+ for their work? i think most people would agree that would be ridiculous.

in some ways, this is what it feels like the watcher team is doing to us right now, imo. we know that shows like ghost files or puppet history are expensive to make because travel costs (in the case of ghost files) + production costs, but we can see the effort put into the work. we feel that what we give for the show, whether that's turning off ad blocker while watching or buying show merch or supporting via patreon, is going toward making the product that we are asking for. these shows are the oil painting in the metaphor.

i don't agree with how mean + rude some people are being about steven lim rn, but frankly, his shows are the 30 second crayon drawing of the watcher channel. anyone can look at the view count on their channel + see that his shows consistently have performed worse than shane + ryan's shows. additionally, we can see that he blows huge amounts of money on his shows ("$913 seafood tower", "$1027 fried chicken") that may leave a lot of viewers feeling as if they're aren't getting as much bang for their buck.

frankly, i think people are valid for being upset that they're expected to directly foot the bill for steven's "i fly all over the world + eat expensive food while you watch" project. while youtube has a shit ton of problems (like, say, not paying their creators enough), one of the cool things about it is that you can gauge directly the amount of the interest in a project (and how many resources you should dedicate to said project) by how many eyes are on it. unfortunately for him (i guess), steven's shows just don't garner enough attention to justify the expense of making them.

which is why i see this shift to watcher tv as such a problem. this feels very much like using shane + ryan's success on the channel to force fans to fuel steven's pursuit of his glory days on worth it. it feels even more strange when they say that they're making the switch because the company isn't currently sustainable, but steven has just hired his friends from buzzfeed + continues to push his series that just don't seem to be making back the cost of production.

to be totally fair, shane + ryan don't get out of this clean either. some of their shows don't deserve to be behind a paywall either. too many spirits is filmed in ryan's parent's backyard with content submitted by their viewers. are you scared is just ryan reading creepypastas/fan submitted content on a minimal set. survival mode is just them playing games like any other streamer or gaming youtuber does. i love all of these shows, but are they on par with puppet history or ghost files? absolutely not.

this is where i think the disconnect is coming from. they're taking everything including the lower production shows to a streaming service where you have to fund them directly (rather than indirectly through ad revenue). they're forcing funding into steven's projects despite them just not doing well enough to justify the cost. they're coming across as disingenuous with their reasoning because their stated reasons for doing this don't align with their actions rn.

i feel like it would've made so much more sense to crowdfund new seasons of shows (which gives them feedback from the fans about what they want too) or put higher cost shows like ghost files or puppet history on patreon or channel membership. i would gladly fund mystery files, weird wonderful world, ghost files, puppet history, etc. with my own money, but i'm one of the ones who isn't really interested in funding steven's quest to eat all of the gold-plated kobe beef when i'll never be able to afford to eat at a restaurant that even serves it.

#rachel says #watcher #shane madej #ryan bergara #steven lim #also it really bothered me that they dangled weird wonderful world over our heads to convince people to use the streaming service #it regularly got more views than all of steven's shows save dish granted #but they never picked it up again despite that #it just adds to the sense of betrayal that a lot of us are feeling rn i think

[kennyluvr]

#🪐: main 4 — baking brownies with them

synopsis/concept: baking brownies with the main 4

content warnings: none!

author's note: the thing with ike is partially based of a personal experience LMAO. also i think there's tense inconsistencies but i don't wanna revise smh, so sorry ab that!

kyle broflovski

kyle loves to bake with you whenever it rains, it helps him relax. whenever he starts to hear even a drizzle he calls you to come over😫

you guys rarely use a prepared recipe though, and whatever you use to make it changes every time, since you're just winging it most days and trying a bunch of stuff

and you guys love to add random shit to it, like whatever you can reach, you just grab it and dump it in.

you guys are constantly giggling and yelling so it never gets boring or quiet, it's literally so fun

literally everything is funny to you, like kyle mixed up the flour and the sugar and you both found it hilarious??

you guys also put music on and dance every few minutes, and while you wait for them to finish

and sometimes ike comes into the kitchen and joins you guys, until kyle makes him leave against your protests 😔

once, ike got on the counter somehow and smeared the batter everywhere when you two weren't looking. that's why kyle doesn't let him stay long most of the time anymore

it was so funny because you both thought it was shit 😨

you guys were laughing until your stomachs hurt when you realized, but sheila was NOT amused 💀

tbh it took longer to clean than to make the brownies since you made such a mess, and lowk made it worse.. but cold brownies are better anyway!

stan marsh

stan would literally be so prepared. he has a recipe sheet, all the ingredients, toppings, and supplies all laid out neatly on the counter.

he'll probably want to add some weird ass shit to it too, like marshmallows, or peanut butter

"trust me it'll taste good! i swear, i've had it before. you're gonna thank me later"

and somehow it does turn out good?? 😧

he'll probably get cute matching aprons for both of you omg??

he partially takes the lead, being kind of bossy tbh but we love dominant stan

and he's definitely a perfectionist, like he'll measure everything meticulously. if you add even a drop more of something than the recipe calls to tease him, he'll lowk panic tbh

and if you try to taste the batter he'll probably lecture you about how dangerous it is 😒

"don't do that dumbass, you could get salmonella. or e. coli or something."

before putting it into the oven he'll probably write a cute little note on it for you with a toothpick or something to surprise you 🤭

luckily, you guys finish up fairly quickly, since stan's so neat and organized

eric cartman

unfortunately you're not really baking with him, you're baking for him..

does nothing to help you except tell you how he likes it and how he wants it to be

"um, no y/n. i want more vanilla in it. usually i eat them with a lot of vanilla"

he's kind of excited though, he loves when you do stuff like this for him, it literally makes his heart swell 😓

he'd probably be super close to you all the time to supervise you and shit, hugging your waist closer to him

you do the opposite of what he says sometimes just to bug him, because the look of exasperation on his face is so cute 😕

"oh my god- you stupid FUCK i wanted m&ms. what normal person eats brownies with almonds??" (almond brownies are fire btw)

he's so funny when he gets mad too, and you keep having to stop to catch your breath

but honestly, sometimes, he's not actually upset or mad at what you're doing. he just does it more and exaggerates just because he knows it'll make you laugh, and he loves seeing you smile so widely because of him

he's so impatient too, when they're baking he keeps asking when they're going to be done

when you're finally done, he'll tell you how good they are to justify all the stress he caused 🙏

"see? i told you it would be better with m&m's. and the almonds aren't too bad either, i guess."

kenny mccormick

kenny would agree but he'd be really cautious and scared to do anything

he still tries to make himself as helpful as possible, bringing you everything you need, giving you suggestions or ideas

you have to beat him away with a spoon sometimes because he keeps trying to have all the chocolate 😭

he feels bad that he can't do much, but he doesn't want to accidentally kill himself

so he opts to hinder you support you emotionally as well, just hugging your waist from behind and encouraging you with kisses ☹️

and just like kyle, you guys put on music while baking

but once you knocked over a whole bag of flour dancing, and he was just laughing hysterically 💀

and you yelled at him to help you clean up, but he's writhing on the floor, cackling and coating himself in flour

and then when he's helping you clean, he probably knocks over the batter or something and he starts laughing his ass off again

it ends up taking a while to finish, since you and kenny are both a mess and have to restart tons of times

but eventually, when you finish, he'll probably ask you to take some home for karen and his siblings 😢

#south park x reader #kenny mccormick x reader #kyle broflovski x reader #eric cartman x reader #stan marsh x reader #kyle brovlofski #kyle broflovski #stan marsh #eric cartman #kenny mccormick #kennyluvr