#trying not to project too much onto him but i really think this is absurd outside of my own preferences

[coquelicoq]

my ex, who lives alone, is apparently about to buy a 5-bedroom, 4-bathroom, 2-garage house. what. i'm getting stressed out just hearing about it. tf you gonna do with all that space, bro? how you gonna clean all those bathrooms???

#he's like well i want one room for my home office and one room for my hobby and one guest room #add in a bedroom for him and that's still only 4 bedrooms? you have an entire extra bedroom???? #plus an extra garage??? #damn he thinks he's lonely now but dude just you wait until you spend every day ALONE IN A FIVE-BEDROOM HOUSE #trying not to project too much onto him but i really think this is absurd outside of my own preferences #he's been stressed living in his 1b apt bc his hobby takes up a lot of space #but i think this is just another example of his general propensity to treat the symptoms and not the disease #the problem is he's overcommitting & extending himself too much & he never finishes anything #that's what actually stresses him out #so him in a 5b house is just going to be him filling all that space with stuff until he's stressed again #anyway i have NO IDEA how to react to this because i think it's such a bad idea #i'm really bad at faking things i don't feel but i feel like it's too late to say 'wyd bro???' because apparently his offer was accepted #i did ask him how he's going to clean 4 bathrooms and he said he's just not going to use them #also it feels weird morally for a single (rich) man to buy an entire 5b house only for him in the middle of the seattle housing crisis #not like if he didn't buy it someone else would buy it and make it into affordable housing units so maybe it doesn't matter #still feels weird though and contributes to me not knowing how to react #if you have any advice for me followers...i am all ears #i've been really floundering on how to be a supportive friend to him lately #just really struggling with how to engage with him when it feels like he's his own worst enemy #and like it's not that he needs to have the same priorities as me it's just that he comes to me all stressed out and idk how to react #bc 'no shit you're stressed out. have you tried making completely different choices?' isn't a great option lol

[crushedsweets]

What’s your opinion/interpretation on Toby’s memory loss?

Ok guys everyone’s gonna sigh and think I’m boring but I dont like the memory loss and him forgetting lyra . Dunno why but it never brought me any sort of like emotion , not even sad. But no worries I do have words to share ..

in the few months that he was under the operators influence and doing horrific shit(literally killed a few middle schoolers, leaving bloody remains in public parks for families to see, burning down random buildings), he has little to no memory of those times. He still retains an absurd amount of aggression and violent tendencies that came from the operator, but he has fuzzy memories and it’s mostly of like… eating random fast food or cleaning himself in a public bathroom. Not so much his worst moments. Eventually, once Masky and hoody borderline kidnap him and put him under slender rather than the operator, it takes MONTHS for him to piece together the last like 7 years of his life. He can remember like.. the ages 5-10 just fine, but not much past that. Eventually the memories of lyra, her death, and his youth come barreling back

He only really processed what happened when he started going through news reports and whatever, cuz Masky and hoody were hesitant to tell him anything . They know what it’s like to unknowingly do shit they never want to think about, never want to take accountability for. Toby’s an annoying violent prick but he was 18 and Tim and Brian were like 29 by this point and just saw him as a kid who was in their shoes not too long ago. Plus they kinda had to keep him as calm as possible for the sake of their job

Eventually he remembers everything (aside from the few months I mentioned, including his fathers death) and it just kinda. Made him angry ? He felt weak again, thinking about all the things that happened to him and how little power he had all his damn life, and now he can’t even remember the day he took his fathers life. The day he believed he put all his problems to rest

Half related to the memory loss, but Toby absolutely still feels underlying sadism, need for power/control, stress relief, etc in his killing when he’s working under slenderman. Regrettably, he’s found himself having fun taking peoples lives under orders, especially since he’s only really killing grown adults who are sticking their noses where they don’t belong. he projects the image of frank (and occasionally Connie but that’s a lot more complicated) onto them, and makes up stories in his head for why it was good, why it was just, why it was okay.

AGAIN, for the first few years , he sees slendy as his savior who pulled him out of hell that his dad and the operator put him in. He even attributes his memory loss to slenderman trying to ‘protect’ him. Just a very odd mindset, whatever gets him through the day

Toby doesn’t seek victims out for a thrill, like Jeff or (early on) clocky. But he finds a way to enjoy it when he has to, and he knows that whatever happened during those lost memories is what made him like this

Also let me clarify that slender absolutely can still take control of a lot of peoples mental states and the proxies do have blank spots in their memories from time to time, but ironically, toby experiences this the least because he’s just so willing to listen if it means he can be in control of something, or gain the approval of his ‘savior’

#creeped #ticci toby #hcs #asks #Ty for asking anon this was fun to think about #it’s always like 7am when I’m writing this shit LMFAO

[get-your-fics]

Dark!Eddie Munson x reader where they’re best friends and Eddie has a picture of her next to his bed and she thinks it’s a sweet gesture to show how important she is to him but in reality he has it to jerk off. Maybe one day she goes over and sees the white stuff on her picture and is like “wtf” and maybe she already has a boyfriend who doesn’t like Eddie because he sees the way he looks at her

You Know What They Say About Nice Guys

Summary: He couldn't deny it to himself any longer: he got off to the thought of his best friend. That was why he kept a photo of her on his bedside table.

Pairings: Dark!Eddie Munson x fem!reader (hint of Steve Harrington x reader)

Word count: 774

Warnings: Allusion to non-con, male masturbation, incel mindset, this is just like pure filth

It’s not that unusual for a guy to jerk off thinking about his best friend, right?

It’s not like Eddie did it intentionally. But every time his hand was wrapped around his cock, his mind conjured up images of her instead: down on her knees in front of him; laying on her back with her legs spread wide underneath him. It was like his brain was projecting them onto his closed eyelids, and he had no choice but to watch.

He even stole some of his uncle’s porn magazines to get his mind off her, but that only made the thoughts worse. He subconsciously pasted her face over every Playboy model playing with her tits or with her hand between her legs. It was her with the arched back and parted lips, staring him straight in the eye as he touched himself.

And he was only ever able to come when he thought about what it’d feel like to spill deep into her tight, wet heat.

Eventually, he stopped denying it to himself: he got off to the thought of his best friend. That’s why he started keeping a photo of her on his bedside table.

It was a polaroid he’d taken of her at the beach. She was in this delicious little bikini that exposed so much of her soft skin. She was sitting on a towel with her legs outstretched in front of her, leaning back on her hands with her eyes closed a she tilted her face up towards the sun. He’d taken it from over her shoulder, so she hadn’t noticed the click of the camera. She hadn’t seen him slip the polaroid into his jacket pocket, either.

He forgot to put it away when she came over, so when she asked, “What’s this?” and he turned to see the polaroid in her hands, all the blood drained from his face.

“Oh, that’s nothing… it’s just… uh…” he stumbled over his words, trying to come up with a good excuse. He could feel his face flush bright red like a cherry tomato.

He watched her eyes squint and her nose wrinkle. She was adorable when she was confused. Then, her eyes went wide, like a light bulb turned on over her head. “This was from our day at the beach.” She looked up at him, beaming from ear to ear. “That’s so sweet!” She put it down and reached for his camera. “Now, I need one too.”

He was frowning in the photo she took of him. Sweet? That made him feel like a neutered dog. Did she not think of him that way at all? Was the idea of them together so absurd that the thought of him masturbating to her didn’t even cross her mind?

Her boyfriend clearly didn't think so. He could see the way that brainless scarecrow Steve Harrington looked at him. He surveyed him like he was a threat. And he’d heard him grumbling to her about how much time she spent with Eddie.

“He’s my best friend,” she’d assured him every time. “You have nothing to worry about.”

Her words were like a slap in the face. Was that really all he was to her? How many times had he driven her somewhere, lent her money, helped babysit her little siblings, all without expecting anything in return? Hell, he treated her better than her fucking boyfriend did.

He thought about changing her mind, about pinning her down on his bed and having his way with her. He even thought about Steve being forced to watch him make his girlfriend come over and over again and how embarrassed that limp dick idiot would feel knowing he’d never made her feel anywhere close to that good.

All those twisted thoughts swirled in his head as he held her photo tight between his fingers, painting her scantily-clad body with ropes of white as a low groan fell from his lips.

He didn’t even bother hiding it when she came over at night when his uncle was away. She walked over to his bedside table with a smile on her lips, picking up the photo thoughtlessly. Her smile quickly faded when she noticed the dried substance on the photo, and she dropped it like it had stung her.

“Eddie, what the fuck?” She was furious, but he liked her even better when she was mad. “What’s wrong with you?”

He turned the lock on his bedroom door and spun to face her, grinning. Fucking his fist wasn’t enough to satisfy him anymore. He wanted the real thing, and he was willing to go to extremes to get it.

#dark!fic #dark!eddie munson x y/n #dark!eddie munson x you #dark!eddie munson x reader #dark!eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x you #eddie munson #stranger things #drabble #request

[dcbicki]

jesus h christ, it’s been years. aren’t by*ers tired of trying to make will into a knockoff of el, yet? they want him to have her powers. they think mike’s love confession to el was really to will in disguise. they tried to make hop’s heart to heart to el and mike about by*er and now they want the 3 inch rule to be about by*er too. like if you love a character/ship so much why do you feel the need to constantly try and take things from another ship/character? i’m so tired.

I feel like you didn't even scratch the surface of this issue with those examples; I've seen some insane takes that range from "Mike actually only loves her because she helped find Will" to "He loves her but he’s not in love with her" & "I think El would be happier if she let Mike go" and it's like... where do you think Mike is going??? He's got £3.50, a dream and a road map, and it always leads him right to her. He's tied to Eleven like a goddamn safety harness. If the past four seasons have proven anything, it's that he's not going anywhere — If anything, he's following her wherever she goes because that’s the path he wants to go down.

The grossest take by far is when they claim El needs to be independent *gags* as if women have to be alone to become their own person and figure out who they are, and/or that she shouldn't be in a romantic relationship until she's properly healed from her trauma. Then in the next breath, they’ll tell you Will has it worse — as if there's some sort of scale for measuring childhood trauma — but he would be perfectly well-adjusted in a relationship with Mike because Mike is a caregiver. This is the same Mike whom they loathe because he *checks notes* was a bad friend for *double-checks* ah, yes, wanting to focus on and care for his girlfriend who was raised in a lab and experimented on for 12 years, who wants to be with him in return because he makes her feel happy and safe and human, and maybe she deserves to be on the receiving end of all of that attention and love.

On top of that, like you said, they project El’s every character trait that make for an interesting, unique female heroine (powers, experiences, growth, maturing romance with her boyfriend, complex relationship with her adoptive father, whole storylines & scenes) onto a still-pretty-underdeveloped male character who is on his own journey of self-discovery and acceptance. From what we do know about Will, he doesn't like to be defined or babied by others, and yet it’s the one thing a lot of his stans — I won’t say all of them — do on the daily.

You can't advocate for a well-written storyline for Will and then just copy-paste a completely different biography onto his character, not when he still needs fleshing out in the first place and not when he needs to define himself. And what is it even done for? Representation that wouldn't even be good representation because it would come out of left field, confuse the larger audience, and wreck at least 3 relationships that have been set up since the first season in the process. That's not good writing. That's not groundbreaking. And not doing it is definitely not queer-baiting. These characters are more than the relationships they have projected onto them. Will’s story arc does not revolve around Mike’s feelings — it’s about how Will feels.

But while we’re here, it is kind of baffling to me that people will label Mike & El's relationship as being 'toxic' or 'boring' and then just straight-up want it transplanted onto their own ship? It’s almost like the problem isn't that they are any of those things, or that Mike & El simply don't work as a couple; it's that the relationship is hetero and therefore considered less than. Which is an absurd take given there's no dynamic quite like it in media; she's an (unconfirmed but widely accepted by the fandom) atypical, neurodivergent superhero with a 'straight man' boyfriend who serves as her primary caregiver, a role typically filled by a female character when the central protagonist is male *coughs up the Lois Lane reference*. There's nothing boring about that, or about the drama they have to endure. If anything, that's what is groundbreaking.

The key problems in this fandom seem to be that everyone is either too immature or unwilling to self-reflect and realize that their views have been skewed by being chronically online and/or too much time spent engaging in fandom discourse and speculation specifically, and now their grasp on what the main plot of the show was in the first place is completely gone. It's about love overcoming interdimensional creatures, you guys. — I promise you these characters aren't secretly wanting to kiss everyone in a one-foot radius as much as you've convinced yourself they are.

And then, you know, there’s just the age-old internalised misogyny when women get in the way of non-canon mlm ships, which isn't limited to this particular subset of fans or even the ST fandom in general. It's the oldest story in the book: get rid of the girl if she stands in the way of *checks smudged handwriting* yep, that was it, a headcanon.

#anon #answered #stranger things #mileven #anti byler

[stranger-rants]

Is it me or does the Duffers' decision to kill Eddie seem classist? Think of how that translates to other fans who might identify with him because they live in trailer parks or have to do things they're not proud of to get ahead or stay afloat but still have aspirations and set goals for themselves despite their situations. They didn't give him that chance even though he was trying so hard, but because he didn't graduate high school all the time and engaged in "degenerate" activities like stealing trailers and joyriding and the scene with the wires and selling drugs, lived on garbage food and didn't have the luxuries or opportunities the main surviving characters do, didn't have it easy, he represents so many teens with hard lives. And the decision that HE had to die of all people... just gives me the ick for that reason. They should've been smart and considered what kind of message that sends to kids like Eddie, that they get punished. Did this cross your mind too?

They did say Eddie was “doomed” from the start - that he wasn’t going to graduate and he would probably end up in jail. I get that they were trying to say that no matter what, the town would treat him like he was The Devil. However, my dudes… y’all are writing this. You could have easily resolved that particular conflict by showing Eddie defending the town instead of killing him in by far one of the most pointless-to-the-narrative onscreen deaths I have ever seen for a character.

I take issue with how they positioned him as an oppressed outcast to begin with, borrowing the aesthetic of Satanic Panic in the 80s without really understanding it. Again, it says a lot that Eddie was the initial target of the panic but that shifted to Lucas with Eddie nowhere in sight of The Mob. The lack of narrative continuity and the way you can just tell they’re projecting their own oppression fantasies onto these characters for being NERDS while expressing the most classist, racist, sexist, et cetera opinions make me roll my goddamn eyes any time they talk. Tragedies are only effective if there is a connection made between the tragic event (e.g. Eddie’s death) and the events leading up to it that could have been avoided (e.g. The lynch mob). This is effective for maybe a quarter of Eddie’s story, but it completely loses focus on that trajectory by separating Eddie from the Hawkin’s lynch mob and having him fucking die for no real reason fighting monsters anyone in their right mind would run away from, where his death is witnessed by one character who has to tell his uncle (and the audience) he died a hero even though his death did nothing.

The absurdity of his death calls into question the motivations behind The Duffer’s choice to make him a tragic “doomed” character. I am still pissed about what they did to Billy, but there are things that happened in his story that made it an effective tragedy even moving into season 4, despite their best efforts to put dirt on his name. The person he became because of his traumas makes him difficult to love, and as a result he is unable to get the support he needs to survive. He dies in one of the show’s most intense scenes, where it is witnessed by everyone. He was hurdling towards an inevitable end because of the failure of his community to protect him in many ways, and he decides to die for them despite this. That is fucking tragic, and it would be an unbelievably good tragedy if they didn’t keep shitting on Billy as a character after the fact. The fact that we have to be told that Eddie was a hero, but you have to fight tooth and nail to get anyone to acknowledge that Billy actually did die a hero is a failure on the Duffer’s part to understand what they actually fucking wrote… which isn’t a surprise considering how much of what they wrote was heavily dependent on actor input. They are fucking hacks.

All of this is to say that Eddie’s death and their comments on his death are classist. They wanted a character who was easy for the audience to love, easy to market and make a profit off of them, who they could kill off for a relatively lower-risk on screen death all while hiding these motivations behind the lip service they pay to issues like poverty and social isolation. Eddie was not actually doomed because he was poor or neurodivergent or a social outcast. There were plenty of opportunities to subvert that, but they didn’t.

He died an utterly pointless death, and I stick by that.

I grew up in a trailer park with alcoholic parents. I graduated high school and college. I have a Master’s degree, and my own house and my own car. Like Eddie, I had alternative interests and I was socially outcast in some ways. I am not an exception. There are plenty of people like me. If they wanted Eddie to represent what happens to people who are rejected from society, fine… but then they should have linked it back to the Hawkins community and not have him run into a hoard of fucking demobats for no goddamn reason.

#asks #eddie munson #fuck the duffers

[mangonatural]

Rules: Make a 24 hour poll with the names of your WIPs, let it run, then work for 10 minutes for every vote the winner receives.

Thank you for the tag, @angelcasendgame!!!!! I am not sure I will be able to work on anything very soon just because life came after me again, and turns out I'm gonna be moving over the next month or so, but I really do hope I can find time!!

None of these have names yet lol. I put the SPN ones first, but technically I've been trying to break my writer's block by returning to The Great Gatsby (It's all Nick/Gatsby btw, just realized that might not be immediately evident) with limited success. It's always come easier for me. But all of this is stuff I do actively want to work on.

Ohh I don't know who to tag. I'm sure everyone in this circle has been tagged already, and most of the people I talk to regularly enough to know about their projects have more or less left Tumblr... I do absolutely want to pass this your way though, @antique-ro-man!! (It's Wes, btw!) I also wanna tag @heyfagbutt! And then anyone else who sees this and wants to participate, I also encourage it!! This is such a cool idea :D !!

Long, rambling explanations down here ⬇⬇

I think the name is pretty explanatory? The gist of it is they go after the same guy and become pseudo-enemies but they keep bumping into each other like this and decide to work together after a while 👍 this is a really bad hook LMAO. Anyway, I'm trying to build on the idea that they work REALLY well together when they do it intentionally but fail comically when they don't.

Pretty much what it says on the tin as well. No Supernatural AU. Dean goes to a community college to get a certification to help with his work elsewhere, but Cas, a figure drawing model, catches him drawing (which Dean's been doing on and off as a hobby) and tries to get him to sign up for the arts program.

I technically only have a summary of this, and I'm not entirely sure if I will write it all out, but I do want to at least put more time into the development before I dedicate to giving up on it bc of scope lol. I just have SUCH a soft spot for fake relationship AUs. Also, I just found out that while I have FINALLY aged into independent FAFSA eligibility, I am once again tax bracketed out. Anyway, financial abuse is real and I want to project my suffering onto Dean. Also immigrant Cas, but I haven't decided where I want him to be from yet. I think this has a lot of potential for some pretty hefty character redesigns too so it's also compelling to me from that angle. I guess I could also write it for TGG, but I did initially think of it for Destiel, so.

I don't know how to explain this one very well except that I had unhelpfully written "poolboy au" in my notes and then proceeded to forget what the hell I meant. This fic was an attempt to resurrect that but ended up being a funky modern West Coast re-imagining where Gatsby can't even "make it" as much as he wants to, and Nick can't find a place to live except for a less-than-legally rented pool house. It's not meant to be a full rewrite or anything though.

Uhhh yeah, I'm keeping the details private for this one ahaha but that's just because it wasn't supposed to be a big deal and I told a friend she would see what it was when it was done...like oh god probably a month ago at this point... My original scope for this was quite small, but research for it, indecision, and a nasty case of writer's block that I've had for nearly a year now have kept development a bit slow. Hopefully, I'll finish it before the year comes to a close.

I also don't know how to explain this one well other than "after being rejected by Daisy (Canon Divergent), Gatsby attempts to buy his way into a bewildered Nick's heart. Though the fic is from Nick's POV, Gatsby's just had his worldview shattered and is in a bit of denial, but instead of pursuing Daisy harder, he channels all of that energy into Nick (though he's not really sure why he's doing it at first). I wasn't sure what to put up at the top because I absolutely don't want my code name for this public at least until it's done LMAO.

#new post #tag game #spn #cause i'm gonna kick this over to my main too bc of the tgg #but i SAID i was gonna quarantine the spn stuff here so . #sorry i feel soo much more rambly than normal #did you know that some property managers will approve you in fewer than 2 hours after you submit your application? #can't stop thinking about that

[eisforeidolon]

Anon, your ask is a wee bit on the lengthy side and I am not exactly the soul of brevity myself, so I hope you don’t mind if I just go ahead and slap it all under a cut to respond.  

You know my primary problem with Jared Stans are not that they are over-critical of Jensen and his career or family life and all. Not that I like when some of them start with over-analyzing everything he says and proves him as a lying bastard out of spite, but when they are doing it in their own zone I am no one to complain as I can't control their thoughts. Also a lot of them give some pretty good points and facts while criticizing him, and not all the criticisms are spiteful, so the problem is not that. I follow a lot of them, share their posts, find them like-minded in a lot of topics- so them pointing out on face that they don't like Jensen is hardly an issue.

As I’ve said before, I also don’t get too fussed about whether or not someone dislikes Jensen (or Jared).  People are free to have their opinions in their own space, even if I might personally not only disagree but find a lot of those opinions ridiculous. Don’t attack or threaten the actors, but otherwise?  Okay, whatever. 

My problem is despite being enough sensible how some of them are blind towards others POV, and sometimes nurture the idea that they are the superior part of the fandom who is always right. Some of them (not all) keep on saying if you are not able to see how Jensen is a jerk to Jared you are definitely an AA who pretends to be a Jared fan, and rudely questions your honesty without even knowing you. According to them J2 fans don't exist, there are either fans of Jared and secret haters of Jared. If you don't agree with then you have to be an AA or a J2 tinhat who only values Jared as Jensen's partner; or at best someone blind and in denial with subconsciously being an AA. This won't be in their consideration that maybe they are oversensitive on something rest of the people are not. I am not a Jensen worshipper so I have no reason to block them or the anti tags, but as a follower of their blog I think I have the right to agree or disagree with their statements. But if I ever counter their post I would get the suggestion to get out of their blog or a rude reply when I would be expecting a healthy discussion.  While their criticisms for Jensen does not equate the hate Jared gets, those can be illogical to a lot of people sometimes- but if you point that out you will get responses like Jared gets much more hate than this- as if it is a competition of who can throw more hate. I won't expect this childish behavior from a group of sensitive people. Or maybe it's my fault to expect better behavior from them, all sides of fandom are just the same- some just acts to be more sensible.

Every faction of this fandom will tell you that they’re the nice side, they’re the sensible side - it’s just those other fans who are the problem.  The thing is, if you discount the most extreme cases, they really are very much alike.  I cannot tell you the number of times I have seen the same absurd assertions about either J’s looks/career/likeability/SM/whatever from the other’s stans.  Almost literally word for word, as if they’re cribbing the best insults from each other.  Which is the first part of why I can’t take them seriously.  The second part is exactly what you’re describing, trying to turn fandom into a false dichotomy of if-you’re-not-with-us-you’re-against-us.  Which is direct out of the hellers playbook.  If you don’t ship D/C, you’re a homophobe.  If you don’t like Jared best and defend him against every possible perceived potential slight, you can’t actually be a fan of his at all.  No, that’s actually not an obligatory binary choice.  

Not to mention the further context that some of them?  Are projecting their own experience onto everyone else.  They pretended to be J2 fans for years while actually hating Jensen.  So obviously anybody claiming to actually like both guys who doesn’t like Jared best MUST hate him just like they hated Jensen.  Again, no, there are not just two options that exist there.    

There has been a lot of times when their anti Jensen posts have made me question my sanity and my dedication towards Jared, to a point I questioned myself if I were an AA subconsciously which I don't know but they do🫢. But after a long thought I had to believe I am the normal thinker, they are overreacting. A big example of this has to be MR's podcast. I was pretty mad at Jensen (still am) about the prequel, so when my dash was full of Jensen bashing after the podcast was aired I easily believed Jensen shifted the blame on Jared and took no responsibility. But after watching the whole video I found no point to be so mad at him. Not only that he didn't seem offensive to Jared at any point, but I was also unable to find the discrepancy of fact the Jared fans had pointed out so easily. Imagine my reaction when after all these I came across several posts from Jared's Stans claiming those who still can't see how much jerk Jensen is have to be a Jared hater. This is just a single instance. I face similar things everytime when my dash floods with Jensen's hatred. Not only with Jensen, a lot of time I get posts like how cast member x was mean towards Jared, and then I find nothing of that sort. This makes me think everytime- do I have to be oversensitive about Jared and dismissive to everyone if I want to be proved as Jared's fan? Loving him is not enough?

The difference between your initial reaction and mine I think comes down to having immediately recognized that logical fallacy for what it is.  Someone who tells you that you either agree with them or you’re the enemy isn’t so much genuinely sure they’re right as they are determined to drown out and reject anything that doesn’t fit what they already decided they want to believe.  It’s the quote unquote logic of hellers - hell, it’s the logic of flat earthers.  Everything proves my point, unless it’s a lie or an attack.  That never made me doubt myself because it’s so patently absurd on its face.  I didn’t decide that Jensen was not secretly abusive to Jared just because I wanted to believe it or couldn’t admit Jensen could ever be wrong.  I decided based on my impressions of what happened, what he said, what Jared said, how fast they made up, the fifteen years of previous friendship and the kinds of jokes they make with each other, and how they still act the same at all recent cons. 

Fandom isn’t some righteous battle where you have to pick a side and fight for your avatar’s supremacy.  Jared isn’t some poor helpless damsel in distress incapable of making decisions for himself or judging people he personally knows with more accurate perspective than rando stans on the internet who dissect the few random public moments we see looking for evidence of “backstabbing” (because that’s oh-so-healthy and completely rational).  People in his life aren’t evil for not curating their words and actions in regards to Jared according to what crazy trolls on the internet might say.  

Sorry for this long rant😂😂 Kinda feel sorry to turn your blog into a complaint box, but you are literally the window for the J2 fans who are still willing to stand straight and see everything neutrally.

No problem, anon.  I don’t mind.  And thanks!

#anti actor stans #anti jared stans #askboxery #anonymous #long post under the cut

[plan-d-to-i]

This fandom is starting to really dispirit me. Before, there were the jc/jgy stans and wx antis that we had to run from in order to enjoy any fanwork, be it meta, fic, art... but when you found ppl who disliked them or were really fans of the work, you were set. Like finding a little oasis to enjoy the work as the author intended, it was a small space, but it was there. Now suddenly there is this wave of victimizing wwx to an extreme? I don't understand the point in making him such a poor baby who was scared of everyone. He was a victim in the novel, but he never was this woe-is-me uWu. He fought and endured and surpassed the trauma and abuse, and I'm not saying that it's wrong to bring attention to the things he went through because ppl deliberately ignore it in order to prop they fave or pretend the story is something it's not, but. I don't know how to explain the way they're trying to make him into this pitiful thing, that should be bitter and hateful against everyone. It genuinely looks like what jc/jgy stans do.

There is such bitterness and condescending self-righteousness in these takes, idk. The latest wave of it brought so much Lan hate, and even ppl who claim to be wx/wwx stans are starting in even on lwj, comparing him to yzy/jc and claiming he was abusive and wwx was rightfully scared of him, afraid of being hurt because he justifiably subconsciously equated him with his abusers, and he did everything he could to keep his distance due to fear of being physically attacked and killed. It's such a wild thing, but it seems like wwx stans feel a sort of validation into ripping onto other characters, into making wwx the only good one and that lwj should grovel and be grateful, and it feels like the only ones they don't drag are the wen, but, in a very dehumanizing way? like they consider them just an accessory or part of him, just another thing to use as a weapon against other characters and I feel like the only reason they don't rip them too is that they're dead and thus easily idealized non-entities to project on (and wn is treated like he is wwx little puppy who will defend him no matter what, as wwx deserves). That's the feeling I'm getting, these people are projecting hard on wwx and changing him with excuses of reading and interpreting the novel. I don't think they even realise that, though, especially the wen thing.

sorry for the huge incoherent rant, it's just really draining the enjoyment for me, it feels like nowhere is safe to enjoy it anymore, ppl who used to delight in the novel now are just another flavour of jc stans, changing the story and wwx to fit their victim narrative, and it's so fucking sad.

(The ask mentioned here earlier)

YES. ALL OF THIS. Every line of this.

I talked about it here, but I had to cut out so many other blogs (& ppl) bc even when they had decent opinions on jc, jgy etc. they started veering into ~make WWX a victim~ territory. Even the Lans are bad >:0, LQR is evil, LXC is terrible, he never wanted LWJ to have friends! He told LWJ to talk to WWX because he was trying to keep them apart! 🤪 He looks down on LWJ! LWJ is bad too! for not cutting his fam out for WWX (even though WWX never wanted this) and going off to live a happy farmer life w WWX...Which is hilarious as only the most absurd takes can be, bc WWX wasn't even able to do a day's worth of farming in HIS DREAM. He just wants to live his life w LWJ, he didn't suddenly develop a passion for horticulture.

And your description of how they portray the Wens finally,beautifully put into words what I could't put my finger on.

I wanted to post THIS ask too before I answered this, bc it illustrates what's being talked about.

#these takes are so good anon. I hope I'm following you xx #mdzs #answers #Lan Wangji #Wei Wuxian #Lan Xichen

[watchmegetobsessed]

Never Have I Ever - Harry Styles (part 7)

a/n: aaand part 7 is finally here! however i want to warn yall that we are nearing the end of NHIE, im planning on having one more part and i don’t think it’ll be any longer, so enjoy while it lasts! lmao as always, feedback is very much appreciated!

pairing: Harry x actress!reader

word count: 5.7k

warning: some slight violence? it’s the good kind, you’ll see lmao

SERIES MASTERPOST

masterlist

Sitting in your trailer you stare down at your phone longingly, rereading Harry’s last text.

“Miss you, hope everything is alright. Facetime when you’re free?”

You hate how your chest is aching at such a small and sweet thing. If you had the chance, you’d run into Harry’s arms without a second thought, but you are stuck in Atlanta while he is currently back in LA, feeling farther away than ever, in every sense.

It’s been three weeks since you left the city and parted ways with Harry. You hated it. You absolutely hated how he was looking at you and how you was about to cry in his fucking Range Rover as he was dropping you off at the airport. You tried to make it quick so you don’t get too caught up in the moment, but the moment he kissed you, it was over for you. For a split second you were ready to cancel on the whole movie and just stick with the plans you made before you got the role, but that wasn’t really an option.

Since that day, Harry has been very respectful of your will to keep some distance, he always checks in before trying to call to make sure you have time, he doesn’t text you about the most random things like he used to, maybe because you both are so busy, you basically live on set while he has left for his tour exactly a week ago, and you can tell he is trying his best to never even mention Levi.

The news that you’d have to work with your ex came as a punch in your stomach. Taiki contacted you himself to talk to you about his choice to include Levi in the movie. He has informed you that they all agreed on him at the end of the casting process, but he wanted to make sure it’s okay by you as well. What would have you said? You wouldn’t just start off a project with getting someone out of the movie before filming even started. You had no choice but to suck it up and say that it’s all fine.

Now you are stuck to see him almost every day and spend your free time with him as well since he is always the first one to show up when a little group of the cast is out and about. He has always been such a social butterfly, though now you wish he would just lock himself up in his hotel room and not show up until he is needed on set.

Levi has been trying. He’s been pushing on your nerves, always coming up to chit-chat, like there’s nothing weird or absurd about the situation, but there’s plenty. Seeing that the last time you two saw each other you threw a book at him and he threatened you to sue you if you dare to even say his name ever again. Your breakup was the definition of nasty while the rest of the world just noticed a quiet and uneventful parting, photos disappearing from Instagram and awkward smiles whenever either of you were asked about the other.

While you are all about being civil and professional, what he has been doing feels like he is trying to get under your skin, testing your patience with him, which is starting to run short.

For an outsider he is acting perfectly fine, even human towards you, but you know him all too well, you know all his little tricks and moves because you used to be an expert on the topic of Levi Hudson.

Huffing to yourself you get back to the text and type a quick reply.

“Still on set, I have two more scenes to film. Will text you when I’m back at the hotel xx”

You wish you could call him right away, you wish he was here with you and you wish you didn’t have to go back to set and face Levi once again. You really thought you’d get entirely consumed by work once filming starts and run short on time and energy to even think about Harry, but it hasn’t been the case. He is all you can think about, you always catch yourself wondering what he is doing, how his day has been or if he is thinking about you too. You cling onto your phone the moment they yell Cut! and frantically check if he has texted you. It’s taking a toll on you and you can only hope you’ll last until the movie is wrapped and you can finally join him on tour, just like you planned.

“Hey there,” Maya steps out of her own trailer when you turn the corner and she catches up with you quickly. “Wha’s up?”

“Just plotting how I can leave early,” you huff, making her laugh. You’ve become the closest to her, you right away bonded when you met at the table read and she caught you grimacing behind Levi’s back when you thought no one was looking. She came up and simply told you she doesn’t like him for literal no reason, he just has a punchable face and an alliance was formed right then and there.

“Oh Honey, let me know when you figured it out,” she chuckles, circling an arm around your shoulders as you both make your way to the set laughing.

Trying your best, you focus fully on the job on hand so you can leave as soon as possible, call Harry and go to bed. Today has been way longer than you would have liked and you just need to get away from set, despite how much you enjoy filming in general. Sometime during the taping Harry texts you that he is free whenever you are and will be waiting for your call and it just makes you even keener on leaving.

When filming is finally finished, you find yourself storm out faster than ever, already ringing up Harry as you are walking back towards your trailer. When he answers the call, his smiley face fills the screen and you feel your heart flutter in your chest.

“Hey! Done for the day?” he asks, seemingly eating something as he talks.

“Luckily,” you breathe out. “What are you eating?”

A blush appears on his pixelated face as he glances down and grabs his bowl, showing it into the camera. He is eating your pesto pasta recipe.

“I had a strong craving for it,” he shyly tells. “It’s not as good as yours though.”

“There’s nothing to do different about it, H,” you chuckle.

“I know, but it’s different when you make it,” he smiles and his words warm your chest. Just as you are about to tease him about being so corny, you hear your name being called out. Turning around you see Levi jogging towards you.

“Here we fucking go,” you mumble, not ending the call with Harry who is a little confused about the situation since he can’t see the intruder in your conversation.

“Are you heading back to the hotel?” he asks, catching up with you.

“Yeah, I wasn’t planning on sleeping in my trailer,” you answer with a frown.

“Wanna share a car?”

“Why would I?” you simply ask.

“What’s with the attitude, Y/N?” he scoffs as if he was an angel and deserved all the respect on earth.

“Why do you keep coming up to me?”

“Because I’m trying to be nice!” he snaps, but it’s all for the wrong reason. You don’t buy this shit, nice is the last thing he is trying to be and you know that for sure.

“No, you keep getting on my nerves and you know that! We don’t have to interact outside of set and I want to keep it that way, Levi!”

“Now you are being a bitch, Y/N.”

“Excuse you?” Harry’s voice is coming from your phone’s speaker and you suddenly realize that he is still there, listening to the conversation. You glance down at the screen and see his now angry expression on it.

“Who’s that?” Levi nods towards the phone with a frown, but then realization must hit him. “Is that Harry Styles you’re talking to?”

“None of your fucking business, Levi. And leave me the fuck alone.” Turning around you start marching back to your trailer that’s now so close, but once again, his voice stops you.

“You’re making a fool out of yourself, Y/N!”

“What the fuck are you talking about?” you snap back at him, one hand already on the door handle of your trailer, the other one holding your phone.

“If you think he wants more than just a good fuck and some publicity out of you, you’re delusional.”

“Fuck you, Levi!” you flip him off before walking into the trailer and shutting the door behind you.

With your back against the door you close your eyes and take a few deep breaths, fighting with yourself not to go back out and kick him in the stomach. This is how it has been, he starts acting all nice, pretending like he is the good buy, but when he doesn’t get the reaction he wants, he is quick to show his real, asshole self he keeps hidden.

“Angel? You alright?” Harry’s voice brings you back from your thoughts and once again, you realize that he is still in call, staring from the screen with a worried expression on his handsome face.

Taking another deep breath you bring the phone up so he can finally see your face.

“Sorry you had to hear all of that,” you mumble, feeling way more tired than you were just a few minutes ago.

“Don’t apologize, it’s none of your fault. But I gotta ask, has he been this big of a dick since the start?”

“Kind of,” you sigh, walking further inside. You put the phone to the little vanity, propping it up against the mirror as you start washing your makeup off.

“Have you tried doing something against it? You really shouldn’t let him treat you like that.”

“I’m not trying to be the whiny star who gets someone kicked out. I don’t know what others would think if I told Levi is being a jerk to me, because he is fine with everyone else. Maya is the only one who knows about it, so I’m kind of stuck.”

“Then just punch him,” he suggests making you laugh.

“I wish I could.”

“Want to talk about it? I would love to listen to you talk about how big of a dick your ex is and about your hatred towards him,” he tells you, way too excited about the topic and it makes you chuckle.

“Let’s not talk about him, I get enough of him all day. But not enough of you.”

It just slips out, way too cheesy than you intended it to be, but it makes him smile so you don’t mind it.

“Is this your way of being casual?” he chuckles softly.

“Shut up,” you grin. “Tell me about your day while I get ready to leave.”

You listen to Harry tell you about his day in the smallest details as you clean your face, brush your hair out and change into your own clothes, finally feeling like yourself again. You’re talking even when you’re already in the car, but that’s when it ends.

“Talk tomorrow, Angel?” he murmurs, now lying in his bead, propped up against the headboard without a shirt on.

“Yeah. I’ll be off around five so just call me whenever your show is over.”

“Will do. Take care, alright? And… just hang on a little longer.”

“A little?” you huff. “There are still two more months to go.”

“You can do it. Text me whenever you want to talk, alright?” You just quietly nod, ignoring the ache in your chest. You want nothing else than to crawl into bed with him, curl up against him and never leave from under the covers.

“Good night, Angel,” he smiles sweetly.

“Night, H,” you sigh before ending the call.

An hour later you are already in your hotel room, wrapped in a fluffy bathrobe, lying in bed as you scroll through Instagram, aimlessly opening posts here and there. The explore page is always a mess, you like so many different things that Instagram sometimes can’t decide what to show you, but that’s just how you like it. Lately it’s been a lot of Harry on there, given the fact that you’ve often found yourself lurking photos of him when you were missing him more than the usual.

When a paparazzi photo comes up of him from yesterday, having lunch with Kendall Jenner you can’t help but feel the jealousy ignite a fire inside you. It’s not like you didn’t know they met up, he told you a week before it and even asked if you are cool with it, to which you said that you are not an official item and you’d never tell him not to see a friend, even if it happens to be an ex as well. After all, you were the last one to throw a stone at him since you are now working with yours, even if it’s a living Hell.

But after such a draining day, seeing him have a good time so far away from you with a woman who is not you, your opinion about the situation seems to be different.

You’ve never been that extremely jealous type and you are also very much aware that you have no right to feel this way, but… you do. Scrolling through the few paparazzi photos that has nothing odd on them, just the two of them sitting at a table on a terrace, enjoying their meal and then leaving in separate cars, you can’t help but tear them apart to the tiniest detail, your brain fixated to find the smallest thing that tell you that they have something more than friendship going on, when you also know damn well sure that there’s no such thing. Harry has talked to you openly about his friendship with Kendall, how they tried to make it work two times but both of them ended up the same way: they realized they are far better as just friends and that’s how they’ve been since then.

But because of the distance, your horrible days with Levi and your agonizing feelings about wanting to be with Harry but also not being able to, you find yourself letting out a silent cry as you close the app, but the pictures still haunt you.

Before you could even think twice, you are kneeling in front of the minibar you haven’t touched since you arrived, but now you’re determined to empty it out, paying extra attention to the alcoholic drinks.

You are well aware that it’s not how you should be coping with the situation on hand, but you don’t know what else to do. You were the one who told Harry not to make things official, there’s nothing you can do against the distance between the two of you and you are stuck with Levi for the rest of filming as well. You have no other choices but to somehow dumb the pain that’s been torturing you silently ever since you found out you got the role.

It’s nerve wrecking, because this role means so much to your career, you know it’s your big chance to be finally taken as seriously as you’ve always dreamed about, but does it worth it? If you lose yourself along the way and everything that’s been making you happy lately, does it still worth just to have an Oscar nomination, which is not even guaranteed, just a speculation.

It’s past one am when you run out of drinks, but because of the small portions, you are just buzzing, not really drunk. But it’s enough to make you lose your rationality and snatch your phone from the bed and open your text threat with Harry.

“I miss you. A lot, like a whole lot.”

You send the text before you could change your mind and for your biggest surprise the status changes to seen just a few moments later before the three little dots start dancing on the bottom.

“I miss you too, Angel. Everything alright?”

Harry knows you too well, you wouldn’t just text after you’ve talked on FaceTime before and you’re usually asleep by this time, since filming starts early in the morning usually.

“Do you really miss me?” you write back with a heavy sigh.

“You can’t even imagine how much…”

“Tell me. How much?”

“I’ve written three songs about you since we parted. Does that tell you how much I miss you?”

“Oh fuck!” you choke out, feeling your chest tightening. You don’t want to be in this hotel room anymore, damn the movie, Levi and the Oscar, you need Harry. Now.

“Can’t wait to hear them all.”

“There’ll be plenty more, Angel. Get ready for a whole album!”

The pictures with Kendall are long forgotten. Now you’re just lying in bed, rereading the texts over and over again until your eyelids get too heavy and you fall asleep, still clinging onto the device.

 ***

 After years of being an independent and strong woman you’ve always aspired to be, you find yourself only focusing on two men to keep your nerves stable enough to stop you from breaking down every other day: Oscar and Harry.

The possibility to win an Oscar is what you think of every time Levi is pulling on your nerves, working harder than the devil to make you burst while acting like a saint in front of everyone. His attempts of ruining your days every imaginable are getting worse as the time passes and when thinking about the Oscar doesn’t help, you reach out to Harry. You’ve felt terribly at the beginning when you kept calling him whenever you felt like screaming after an encounter with Levi, even apologized for it, but he made sure you know he doesn’t mind it, not even the tiniest bit.

“I’m happy I’m the one you come to for comfort. I like that you’re thinking about me,” he told you one night when you called him so late, but he still answered.

Today has been extra hard. Two weeks have passed since your little late night breakdown when you emptied your mini bar out and felt like leaving Atlanta as soon as possible. Luckily, the morning came with an ease, though the pain was still there, you just managed to bottle it up enough to make you keep going.

You’ve been on set since 4 in the morning, having shot some scenes during sunrise and you’ve been going since then. Now it’s four pm, you are desperate for a good sleep already, but you still have some hours to go before you can head back to the hotel.

It seems like Levi has made it his mission to make you cry today. His latest favorite thing has been throwing shade about fellow actors who end up being the talk of gossip sites because they’ve dared to go on a public date with another celebrity. So, just to be clear, he is shaming you for being all over the tabloids, people are still speculating about you and Harry and Levi doesn’t hesitate to call you out about that in a sugarcoated way.

All he has been saying all day is “I guess I’m just more careful about my privacy!” or “Everyone is different, but I like to be noticed for my professional success!” but your favorite was “I get it that women need more effort to stay relevant.”

You were shocked how no one else realized how sexist he was, but deep down you weren’t that surprised. Levi successfully brainwashed everyone to make them believe he didn’t think it seriously, when you know for a fact that even if it was just to piss you off, he really meant it. You were once one of those who couldn’t really see how wrong his beliefs are and now you can’t believe you used to ignore all these sexist comments, but now they make your palms itch.

“You know, you once were just like that. I still remember us being on the covers,” you snapped back at him before everyone left for lunch and it was just the two of you, but he just snorted, brushing it off.

“Hated it. Always felt like just a toy they like to throw around.”

You needed all your self-control not to laugh right into his face and then jump at his throat. Instead, you just watch him walk away and you are quick to fetch your phone from your bag to text Harry, but then you realize that he hasn’t texted you back in the past ten hours. Your last four messages are sitting not just unanswered but unread as well so you talk yourself down from sending another one. It’s odd, because he always tells you when he is about to be busy, but he didn’t this time and you wonder if you’ve said or did something that upset him with you enough to stop talking to you. But then you tell yourself that something must have just come up.

“Hey girl!” Maya calls out for you, already dressed in her own clothes since she is done for the day. “I’m heading out to lunch with Timmy, want to join? Please don’t say you’ll just order in and stay in your trailer!”

“Only if Levi is not coming,” you grumble making her chuckle.

“Don’t worry, it’s just gonna be cool people.”

You both take your car to the little diner close to set, you’ve been going there quite often, they have the best pancakes and that’s exactly what you need right now. Timmy is already there sitting at a booth, waving at you happily. Aside from Maya, he is the other person you’ve been quite enjoying spending time with on set, he is a genuine guy and helped you a lot professionally which was a huge boost along this rocky way.

All through lunch you notice that he’s been checking his phone a lot, but you don’t think much of it, he is a busy guy, that you’ve learned already. It’s nice to have some time away from set and you’re thankful that Maya and Timmy are trying their best to make you forget about Levi and that eventually you have to head back.

The three of you return to set about an hour later. When the both of them stick to your side and they keep asking if you are going back to your trailer, you start to suspect something.

“You guys alright?” you ask with a chuckle. “Where else would I go? I still have thirty minutes from my break.”

“Just making sure,” Timmy shrugs. “We’ll walk you there!”

“Yeah! Let us walk to your trailer!” Maya nods in agreement and you give them a glare.

“You guys are weird,” you mumble under your breath.

As the three of you reach your trailer you notice how excited they are acting and you are confused about what’s really happening, but it’s just until you finally throw the door of your trailer open and gasp at the person waiting inside.

“Hello, Angel,” Harry smirks at you, leaning against the wall as you completely freeze.

“Angel! Oh my God!” you hear Maya squeak behind you, but you can’t pay much attention to her or Timmy, because you are busy throwing yourself into Harry’s arm, who envelopes you into his embrace, lifting you up from the ground.

“What are you doing here?” you breathe out, face buried in the crook of his neck.

“Should I not be here?” he jokes chuckling, his hands running up and down your back.

“Well, you are not supposed to, but I’m glad you are!” you chuckle and pulling back you kiss his lips, not able to hold yourself back.

“Thank your costars,” he mumbles nodding towards the door where Maya and Timmy are standing, grinning widely and proud of themselves.

“You guys did this,” you breathe out.

“Well, it was Maya’s idea, and then I was the one to message Harry,” Timmy admits, hiding his hands in his pockets. “Wanted to surprise you.”

“You surely succeeded,” you chuckle and turning back to Harry you hug him again, holding him tight as if he could vanish any moment.

“Alright, we’ll leave you two alone,” Maya chuckles before shutting the door and giving you some privacy.

“So how long are you staying?” you ask, arms circled around his neck.

“Unfortunately I don’t have much time. I need to fly out late tomorrow.”

“You came here for less than 48 hours?” you gasp in disbelief. He has been on the road for weeks now, all the traveling has been hard on him, that you know, yet he still went into the trouble of flying here for such a short time just to be with you.

“If Timothée didn’t reach out I would have still tried to mess around with my schedule to come here. I know how hard it has been for you here, I wanted to help you.”

“Stop or you’ll make me cry,” you chuckle, leaning in for another kiss.

You spend the rest of your break cuddled up on your tiny sofa in your trailer, talking but mostly kissing, because you’ve been missing Harry’s kisses the most probably. When it’s time to head back to set, you need everything in you not to lock the door and just never leave, but your work is calling.

Walking towards set you find yourself lacing your fingers together with Harry’s, to which he smirks at you in satisfaction. You couldn’t give less shit about that people will think the rumors are true, let them! All you want is to be as close to Harry as possible.

As everyone is slowly gathering back, you lounge around the buffet tables with Harry and Timothée, just genuinely having a good time, right until Levi walks in and he freezes upon seeing you with Harry.

At first you are convinced he’s going to come up to you, but luckily, he chooses to keep his distance this time, saving you some stress about what would go down if the two of them were to talk. Harry has definitely noticed his presence as well, but he doesn’t say a word, just holds your hand tight, kissing your knuckles.

Harry sticks around the whole afternoon, watching you film scene after scene and the excitement in his eyes is priceless. He takes every opportunity to praise your work and tell you how amazing you are doing and it means the world to you since it’s the first time Harry is seeing you working.

Through the afternoon, you can feel Levi’s burning glare on you, but you try your best to ignore it. You can tell he doesn’t like having Harry around but you haven’t figured out if it’s because he is jealous of you and him or because now Harry has all the attention he usually has. Either way, he is a petty fucker and you are enjoying pissing him off for once.

When filming finally finishes at six you are one of the first ones to head out, eager to finally be alone with Harry in your hotel room and not be disturbed for the night.

“I would say to pick up something to eat on our way, but maybe we should just order room service, how does that sound?” he asks as the two of you are walking back to your trailer.

“Room service is gonna be perfect,” you smile up at him, giving his hand a squeeze.

“Y/N!”

The voice calling out your name makes you growl in annoyance. The situation is all too familiar, Levi stopping you on your way back to your trailer with the pure intention of ruin your mood.

Oh for fuck’s sake,” you mumble under your breath before turning around. “What?” you snap back at him, clearly annoyed that he is here again.

“Hey, just… thought I would introduce myself to your friend over here,” he smiles as if it was the most natural thing, but you and Harry stand there, completely confused about how he can act so casual about him meeting Harry.

“I’m sorry, you what?” you question.

“Just wanted to meet Harry,” he tells again. “I’m Levi, nice to meet you,” he nods smiling, holding out his hand and you can’t hold your laughter back. Luckily, Harry is quick to react the best possible way.

“Are you really just gonna pretend like I didn’t hear you call Y/N a bitch the other day?” he asks, voice stern and surprisingly calm, however his hold on your hand is a little tighter now.

Seemingly, Levi is taken aback and you can tell he was convinced Harry wouldn’t bring it up straight to his face, but he did. He definitely just did and you are so happy about that.

“I’m, uhh—I don’t think you have any business in that, Harry,” he chuckles nervously, still trying to somehow dominate in the situation, but he is failing miserably.

“Oh, but I think I do. If you think you can just go around and call women bitches, you are in the wrong and if you ever have just one bad word for Y/N again, I’ll definitely won’t be this calm.”

The cherry on the top is the warm smile on Harry’s lips and your mouth hangs open at how bad he just burnt Levi. If you were alone now, you’d definitely jump his bones right away.

Watching Levi you see the exact moment when he drops the act and before he even opens his nasty mouth, you already know you’ll get another taste of his real self.

“What, you fuck her once and think she is the Queen of England who has to be treated with special care?” he scoffs and your stomach drops. Here he goes with the insults, buckle up!

“Excuse you?” Harry snaps back, clearly losing his patience with him.

“She is not that big of a deal, Styles. Might be a good fuck, but she is a fucking bitch in reality and you’ll see that soon.”

“I think it was just you who made her act that way and that’s entirely your fault, m’ friend. Anyone would be that way if they had to deal with you.”

“You know what? You two deserve each other, two low-life, attention seeker celebs, I just don’t get what people like so much about you. Especially about you,” he adds, eyes snapping to you. Your anger is boiling, he is dancing on your very last nerve and you have no idea how long you can last.

Harry then turns to you, a calm expression on his face, but his eyes tell you otherwise as he simply takes his rings off and places them into your palm, confusing you about what he is really doing.

“I’m sorry in advance, Angel,” he mumbles before taking a step towards Levi and with a simple but graceful move, he punches your scumbag ex.

You gasp as you hear Levi’s groan, his hands flying to his face while Harry shakes his fist off with a heavy sigh.

“Oh fuck, this feels better with a glove on,” Harry breathes out, taking a step back.

“You fucker!” Levi spats as he straightens up. He moves his hand from his face, checking it to see if he is bleeding, but it’s just some redness on his cheek.

“Don’t freak out, princess. You’ll just have to sit some more in the makeup. But Swear to God if you ever speak about her that way,” Harry warns him pointing at him, “You won’t be able to fix it with some powder.”

And with that, Harry grabs your hand and pulls you into the trailer, leaving a shocked and raged out Levi outside. As soon as it’s just the two of you, Harry changes from the confident, protective man to a frightened little puppy as he looks at you.

“I’m so sorry, but I just couldn’t take it any longer. The way he was talking about you and I—“

He doesn’t get to finish because our lips shut him up with the most heated and passionate kiss you two have ever shared. It’s hard and messy, your fingers thread through his hair as he grabs your waist forcefully, yanking you against her tightly.

“That was literally the hottest thing I’ve ever seen,” you pant against his lips.

“Yeah? So you’re not mad?”

“I’m only mad because you got to punch him before me,” you chuckle making him laugh as well.

“God, I have no idea how you could put up with him this long,” he breathes out, resting his forehead against yours.

“I’m convinced that my nerves are made out of steel,” you joke pecking his lips two more times.

“I don’t even see how you could be in a relationship with him in the first place,” he huffs.

“I was younger and dumber. Don’t worry, learned my lesson,” you laugh, cupping his cheek in the palm of your hand, running your thumb along the soft skin under his eye.

“If I’m being honest, there’s one more thing that’s upsetting me about him.”

“And what is that?”

“Please don’t get mad at me though, okay?” he chuckles softly.

“Just tell me!”

“I’m mad… because he is able to say that he has been in a relationship with you and I’m not. It’s pissing me off, properly,” he admits and your heart skips a beat. “I know you said you don’t want anything official, but I just want to call you mine and—“

You cut him off for the second time now as you kiss him again, grinning against his lips. If he didn’t bring this up now, you would have for sure before he left, because there was no way you would have been able to say goodbye to him again without having all strings tied.

“Just to be sure, was this your way of asking me to be your girlfriend?” you smirk, your hands holding onto the base of his neck.

“Kind of? Yeah,” he chuckles softly.

“Alright, cool. Now let’s go back to my hotel room, boyfriend.”

You watch as his eyes light up and leaning down he kisses you again.

“Just so we are on the same page, was this your way of saying yes?”

“Kind of, yeah,” you nod, using his own words.

“Great. Okay, let’s go, girlfriend.”

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#harry #styles #harry styles #harry styles angst #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fanfic #harry styles imagine #harry styles au #harry styles x you #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x reader #harry styles x famous!reader #harry styles x actress!reader #harry styles series #harry styles never have i ever #never have i ever #harry styles never have i ever series #never have i ever series #harry styles oneshot #harry styles one shot

[luimagines]

Date Day! Part 3

Masterlist

Part 1 Part 2

Part 3 will included Warrior Twilight and Sky!

Content under the cut!

Warrior

“Darling.” Warrior slid up to your side and very smoothly put his hand on the table just beside yours. It was a very well put and control movement that did not in any way nearly throw him onto the ground in the process. 

Hiding your giggles to the best of your ability, you hum your acknowledgement with a cute tilt to your head as you do so. “Hello~”

“What are you doing?”

“I’m not telling you.” You grin and continue with your little project.

Warrior pouts a little before leaning close to your ear, his breath sending electricity down your arm and back all the way through your fingertips. “If I ask you nicely, will you tell me?”

“Nope.” You turn to look at him, popping the ‘p’ and kiss him on the nose. “You’ll just have to wait like a good boy and find out later.”

Warrior groans and flops into your side, nearly sending you off of your feet but you fix yourself before that can happen.

“Link, you’re so dramatic.”

“Love me~~~~” He whines. “Pay attention to me, my love, my life, my heart and soul, my everything, my world wide adoration-”

“Oh my goodness.” You snort and hurriedly put everything away. “Let’s go somewhere then you big baby.”

“You love me.” He grins and sweeps you off of your feet and out the door.

He starts running.

You scream and laugh at the absurdity of it all. You pass many of your friends and the group itself as he takes you somewhere without you being able to really see where Warrior’s going.

You gasp and hold on tight to his shoulders, gently running your fingers through his hair as you travel.

Eventually he slows down and he takes a minute to put you down.

You laugh a bit more at the theatrics and move to take his hand instead. “I take it there was something you wanted to show me.”

“I didn’t know you have this here.” He says excitedly and doesn’t bother waiting to explain more as he pulls you with him. “This is something my Hyrule is known for and this is just beside the village?”

You blinked and look at an old statue.

It’s always been there for as long as you can remember and yet there wasn’t any special you knew about it.

“It’s old.” You shrug. “I never thought it was anything important.”

Warrior jumps a little on his toes and runs forward. He takes a minute to look around it and brushes some parts until their clean. He continues doing this for a good five minutes before he seems to find what he’s looking for.

With a cry of victory he reaches forward and presses something.

The statue’s eyes begin to glow and there’s the sound of stone grinding on stone before a pathway opens up and reveals an underground staircase.

You gape at it and look at Warrior who looks like a kid in a candy store.

Warrior jumps down onto the first steps and turns, holding his hand out to you. “Let’s explore it. Come on.”

You nod dumbly and grab his hand again.

You’re always learning something new about your home, aren’t you?

Twilight

“Hey you.” You call out teasingly as Twilight passes your front door.

Twilight freezes and slowly turns around like a deer caught in torch light. It appears he must have been trying to be sneaky or at least avoid being caught by you.

You raise an eyebrow and cross your arm. “Going somewhere lover boy?”

Twilight lets out a small noise of nervousness before he straightens up and scratches the back of his head. “So uhh... How much of that did you see?”

“See what?”

“Oh!” Twilight smiles. “Good, good, never mind then.”

“See what? Trying to hide something?” You say and walk toward him. “In my own house?”

Twilight grins and steps forward to wrap his arms around you. “Perhaps. It was Wild’s idea.”

“Should I be worried about any potential flames?” You say... somewhat jokingly.

Twilight chuckles and shakes his head. “Nothing like that. Promise.”

“If he burns down my house, you owe me a new one.” You poke his chest in a very serious manner.

“If you lose your house you can have mine.”

“And you?”

“Oh, I’ll be there too of course.” Twilight laughs into your hair and he holds you close. “Move in with me. I’ll take care of you.”

“Very tempting.” You snort and hug him tighter. “I wanted to know if you wanted to go to the fairy fountain nearby. Get some more fairies for the trip, maybe bless an item or two... Spend time with me.”

The idea lights up Twilight’s face and you think this is what he wanted from you. something tells you this would go perfectly with that little plan Wild has... and you don’t know how to feel about that. So you ignore the feeling and pretend that nothing bad is going to happen by your negligence.

Twilight lets you go and instantly takes your hand in his. “Show me where it is.”

“This way.” You lace your fingers together and grin, leading him away from your house. “You’ll like her. Her name is Kyhic.”

Sky

“Sky! Sky! Sky!” You ran through your house and latched onto your boyfriend’s arm to second you saw him.

The force with which you collided into him with nearly through him off of his feet but he gladly let you hang off of him before you decided to drag him away.

It’s not like he was in the middle of a conversation or anything.

“I want to show you something.” You said with one of the brightest smiles Sky has seen on to date.

You bring him to the back of the house and into your room, from your room to take him to a door just beside your closet- not giving him any time to look around and snoop before you open it and pull him inside.

“You showed me your workspace.” You say with a small flourish as you gesture into the room before you. “And this is mine!”

There’s a small table in the back covered in bits of paste and tools alike, in the middle is another round table with a pedal at the bottom and what looks like a cracked would have been pot.

Looks like you didn’t put it away before you left for your adventure.

Along the walls are multiple other tools with different ends and different blades in order to help get your desired shape and design.

Sky steps in with a small gasp and sees where you store the clay and molding pot- there’s even a few gloves to the side and small furnace that sits at the back of it all.

“I want to make you something.” You say and begin to take out certain bits and bobs that Sky can’t recognize for the life of him. “Anything, name it. I might even agree to make you my best version of a loftwing- but I can’t promise it’ll be good.”

“Teach me.” He says instead.

“What?” You blinked and turn to see him.

He has a soft smile on his face and he both looks impressed and charmed by your enthusiasm for the craft. “Teach me how to do this. Show me how this works. Teach me to do what you do.”

You flush and place the clump of clay you’ve gather on the spinning table, bringing over the bucket of water you always have on standby.

“Umm... Well...”

“Please?”

You look up at him once more and know that you’ve lost. “OK, sit here and I’ll show you how to get the table spinning.”

#linked universe #linkeduniverse #linked universe x reader

[odos-bucket]

Bruce Being Super Protective of His Kids in Their Out-Of-Costume Lives Pt. 2

(Or as this series is becoming: Bruce Looking After His Kids at Fancy Parties)

Part 1

Jason isn’t particularly well adapted to the kinds of social gatherings that Bruce’s position within the city demands they participate in. He attends his first event a few months into his stay at Wayne manor. He goes in fully expecting it to be terrible, and is not disappointed.

The old ladies trying to pinch his cheeks were something that Dick had warned him about. His tone had been light, like maybe it was something that he thought was funny, or was trying to think of as funny. But Jason doesn’t like to be touched, not by people he doesn’t know. He doesn’t think Dick was trying to scare him exactly, but he accomplishes it anyway.

From the time the shindig begins he’s wound so tight he’s practically vibrating. He has no idea how he’s supposed to act at something like this. Things he’s never thought about before are suddenly tormenting him. He can’t figure out what he should be doing with his hands, or how to stand. He’s never been self conscious, but now he’s in this stupid room, wearing this stupid suit, surrounded by these stupid people, and it’s making him feel awkward.

The first time somebody tries to touch him he flinches away violently. He doesn’t mean to; it’s just what happens. It earns him a series of incredulous looks, from the man who had made the mistake of putting a hand on his shoulder, and a few other people in the vicinity.

Jason relocates himself quickly, though there’s no destination for him that’s that much better than where he’s already been. The various corners of the crowd all feel more or less the same, all absurd, all suffocating.

The next time someone tries to touch him, it’s his face. He had already decided that he didn’t like the woman in question before it happened. Her voice is an annoying pitch. Her words are all condescending. And even before reaching out for him she had been standing way too close.

If the proximity hadn’t been enough to put him on high alert the patronizing way she spoke to him certainly would have done it.

When her fingers come to press against his chin- as if she wants to turn his head to examine him- he pushes her away. Again, he doesn’t mean to do it exactly. It’s an instinctive reaction (and a pretty reasonable one, he thinks).

This time, however, he gets more than a few suspicious stares. The movement itself had been subtle enough not to draw any attention he didn’t already have. But the woman replies with an outraged squawk, that suddenly brings dozens of eyes onto them.

Jason freezes. Being stared at had been pretty high on his list of things to avoid tonight. And now people are talking.

“Why you little-“

“What happened?”

“Wayne’s new pet project-“

“Did you just hit her?”

“Delinquent-“

“Did he just hit her?”

The woman he shoved looks like she might be about to slap him, but he’s honestly less concerned about that than he is about the mix of curious and indignant bystanders drawing closer. They’re not surrounding him really, but it sure as hell feels like they’re trying to. Jason’s having a hard time processing anything beyond the impulse to lash out again, not to hurt anyone, just to get them away, so that maybe he can get away.

“What the hell is going on here?”

Oh god, Bruce. Jason’s not surprised the scene got his attention, but he’s a little startled to hear a much darker tone than his regular civilian voice.

Bruce forces his way through the crowd. Some of the onlookers redirect their attention away as he approaches. A handful of voices from different directions make overlapping attempts to answer his question. Jason hears something about how he’s, “not as well behaved as your last stray,” but isn’t looking up in time to see how the comment makes Bruce bristle.

He reaches them in seconds, takes in the woman’s body language, and immediately drags her several feet back from Jason. When he speaks, he manages to sound like Batman (at least to Jason’s knowing ears), even without the voice modulator.

“You will never put your hands on my child again.”

“I didn-“ the woman begins. “Your urchin-“

“Did you touch him?”

“I was only-“

“Yes or no.”

“I didn’t hurt him,” she scoffs.

“That isn’t what I asked.”

“Mr. Wayne, the kid attacked her. All she did was touch him.” The man who interrupts is in the minority, in that he has not had the good sense to pretend not to be paying attention to the whole scene.

Bruce’s jaw grinds, as he looks slowly between the man and the woman.

“So you did touch him.”

Bruce knows that Jason doesn’t like to be touched, knows that he can have something like a fear response to it, if it comes unexpectedly. And there are very few things that he hates more than his kids being scared. But he also knows better than to publicly chastise socialites specifically for scaring him, knows better than to bring his fear to people’s attention.

“This is ridiculous,” she says.

“On that we’re agreed.” Bruce slips further into his regular public persona as he speaks.

He looks around. First at Jason, taking stock of him, making sure he’s all right. Then to what remains of the audience they’d acquired, making pointed eye contact, silently subduing any conflict before it can arise. By the time he turns back to where the woman was, she’s hurried away. The sparse handful of people still shooting them scandalized glares are easy to ignore.

Bruce approaches Jason.

“You okay?”

He nods at first, then shrugs. He’s not sure if he wishes that things didn’t bother him as much, or just that people would quit doing the things that do bother him. He crosses his arms over his chest.

“I’m never going to be good at this.” It isn’t an apology, or an admission of guilt, more like he’s daring Bruce to tell him that he needs to be.

Bruce makes a sweeping gesture around them.

“You’re clearly not the only one.”

An amused little half smile quirks onto Jason’s face, and Bruce revels in it.

“Do you want to get out of here?”

Jason really does. But he still hesitates.

“I’m not sure if I can remember how to get back.” He’s still not that familiar with this part of the city.

“What?” Bruce looks genuinely confused. “No. Jason, I’m going to take you home.”

“Oh. Okay. I mean, if you want to.”

Bruce smiles at his feigned nonchalance.

“Do you have a jacket?”

Jason tugs at the fabric of his suit coat.

“Is this not a jacket?”

“I suppose it is. It’s chilly out though.”

Jason rolls his eyes.

“Like Dick didn’t run around in his underwear twelve months out of the year.”

Bruce lowers his voice slightly.

“Yes but not for lack of me trying to get him to put pants on.” His tone is unnecessarily serious.

Jason wants to laugh. Instead he rolls his eyes again.

They leave the party without further incident, catching a cab back to the manor.

There are things that Bruce did with Dick that he learned quickly not to do with Jason, patting him on the back, ruffling his hair, putting a hand on his arm. But when Jason takes the initiative to reach out, he never pulls away. He takes the middle seat in the taxi, putting him immediately next to Bruce, their arms pressed directly against each other. Bruce delights in his son’s closeness.

---

Bruce’s “outburst” is all over the news for the next week. Alfred buys a copy of the first tabloid to print a headline about it, and hangs it on the refrigerator.

Jason isn’t sure why, the whole thing was awful and embarrassing, but he find himself smiling whenever he glances up at it.

#batfam #batfamily #batman and robin #bruce wayne #jason todd #batdad #batman #robin #dc #my writing #it's fluffy angst #aka the only thing I know how to write

[chockfullofsecrets]

Critical Role: The Importance of Timing, Ch 1

<<chapter navigation TBA>>

(Read on AO3)

Rating: Gen

Summary: Jester sobers quickly, though, pouting insistently down at them.“Four is pret-ty bad, you guys.”

Kingsley nods seriously. Thus validated, she starts bouncing excitedly on the balls of her feet. “I think we need to punish them, Fjord!”

Caleb and Essek make the mistake of overworking themselves right before the Mighty Nein are scheduled for a reunion. Lessons are learned.

Wordcount: 3.6k (yeah, this one’s going to take a while)

A/N: making some more progress on my backlog of prompts (this one happens to be both from the most recent vote and this lovely anon prompt)! cross your fingers that this is going to be my first finished chapter fic lol

---

Caleb hardly remembers it, later.

It was evening - not particularly late, but after three near-sleepless nights time stretched into its own kind of viscous liquidity. Like a soup.

He laughed to himself at the absurdity of it, too tired for more than the barest expense of breath. Essek would know better than he, of course - he turned to him, intending to share the thought, and found a sheaf of notes thrust mere inches from his face.

“Here,” Essek said brusquely. Exhaustion did not lend itself to the usual smoothness of his speech. “I think I have it, finally - if we engrave it this way, the spell will replenish itself without interrupting conversation, yes?”

“Oh.” He took the papers, looking them over blearily - his eyes widened, a brief rush of vigor returning. “Oh, this is - oh, this is good! Let me just fabricate the surface smooth again and we can try-”

There was a crash from a location beyond the lab and therefore currently unimportant. Neither of them looked up.

The interruption, then, arrived unexpectedly.

“Hel-loooo!”came a lilting Nicodranian accent from the hall. “We got here early and you didn’t answer your door so we used our super cool magic powers to come in, and we should to-tally make a hammock themed room in the mansion tonight because I think Fjord is kind of land sick - Caleb, look at me, why do you look so terrible?”

Caleb knew the consequences of ignoring that voice. He looked up.

After hours of gazing at runes, his eyes refused to fully adjust and take in the three figures in the doorway. He squinted and managed to make out a bit of blue. “Jester?”

“They look tired right out, the poor things,” a purple blob pronounced from Jester’s right. “We haven’t missed out on an adventure, have we?”

“No,” Jester said, “Essek would never go out with his hair looking like that. Right, Essek? Aren’t you, like, super embarrassed that your hair’s all floppy right now?”

Sitting shoulder to shoulder with the floppy-haired drow in question, Caleb could just barely hear him hiss in protest at the interruption. “Leave, then, if it disturbs you so.”

Caleb blinked, starting to fumble together a sentence to dull the reprimand, and suddenly the remaining green blob resolved into Fjord as he put a hand on Caleb’s forehead and crouched to look into his eyes. “All right, it’s bedtime for you two. Jes, can you get Essek?”

“Wait-” Caleb grabbed weakly for the table, for his notes at least, but he was already being swept up in Fjord’s arms and carried bodily from the room. Essek sounded much more awake - and irate, frankly - behind him, trying to explain something, but it had been far too long since he had been anywhere near horizontal - with his head pillowed against Fjord’s bicep, he was asleep before they reached the stairs.

---

Waking is a slow process.

He is not alone - there’s a weight to being tangled up in someone else, the warm scent of closeness, and even without his eidetic memory he does not think he can ever forget the stony, moon-soaked smell of having his face buried in the crook of Essek’s shoulder.

He yawns lazily. Essek must be very tired, if Caleb is awake and he is not, and he is the better cook of the two of them anyway - although of course neither of them have any comparison to Caduceus, or Yasha now that it’s been several months since her last poisoning incident. He presses a gentle kiss to Essek’s jaw and rolls out of bed to get started with breakfast.

Or tries to, at least. His top half makes it out of bed easily enough, but the rest of him does not seem inclined to follow.

Something clanks at the foot of the bed as he narrowly hauls himself up from a quick trip to the floor. He props himself up on an elbow, halfway through another yawn, and finds himself staring down a pair of manacles hooked around his ankles.

He kicks cautiously. The chain threaded through his bed posts clanks again.

Panic begins to stir low in his gut. “Essek!”

There’s a sleepy murmur next to him. He twists to find Essek blinking awake - there’s not much else he can do, with his arms shackled above his head and his legs chained below in similar fashion. The cuffs are padded at least, stuffed with what looks to be worn handkerchiefs, and they’re both fully dressed in sleep clothes - their captors don’t want to hurt them, then, not yet.

Caleb scans the room frantically. The book he has been reading is still propped open on the bedside table, the door knob Essek had pried from an Aeorian ruin after Caleb had commented on its sparkle still proudly adorns the bathroom door, Kingsley is still leaning against the window-

He grins smugly as Caleb’s gaze snaps back to him. “Oh, good, you’re both awake. Comfy watch, but it’s ever so much more boring without the-” He pulls his hands from his pockets and rocks them back and forth. “Oh, and also the fish folk trying to kill us, those are great.”

“Kingsley?” Caleb demands. Next to him, Essek makes a shocked sound as he presumably recognizes that he cannot move any of his limbs. “What is this?”

“Oh, I can’t rightly say.” Kingsley saunters over and swings himself neatly up onto the mattress, worming between him and Essek to sit cross-legged at the center of the bed. “Wasn’t my idea, at any rate-”

“Jester and Fjord were here too,” Essek interrupts. “Is this - this is a prank, is it not?”

“Hush, you,” Kingsley smirks. “All I’ve got is that I’m to ensure you don’t make your way free with any spellcasting before Fjord and Jester get back. And to that end…”

He breaks the pause with a dramatic flourish of his arms, spreading them wide before laying a palm down lightly on each of their bellies. “I’m told this should do just fine, if the two of you care to demonstrate?”

Caleb connects the dots just a moment too late to throw himself back off the edge of the bed. “Kingsley - wait - ah!”

There was a time when it would take minutes for his mind to link the intruding sensation of touch to anything but wariness. Now, the instant Kingsley’s fingers start scribbling he’s flat on his back, pushing weakly at the offending limb and doing his best not to collapse into hysterical snickering at how much it - it -

“Tickle, tickle, magic man,” Kingsley teases, pupilless eyes aflame with mischief. “No, no, don’t bother fighting it. I’ve heard tales about those ribs of yours, you know. Especially how much you love letting Jester play with them, hm?”

“N-nein, that’s not-” Caleb tries to protest, but he’s already giggling just at the thought - Fjord and Jester are here, and he’s stuck, and Kingsley won’t stop tickling him-

Kingsley’s grin grows another satisfied inch as he turns back to Essek. “And you, stubborn - oh, are you trying to cast something? Is that what that face means?”

Essek is struggling, jaw working and face scrunched as his entire body trembles in time with the claw vibrating its way into his belly. Caleb can practically see the Misty Step brewing on his tongue, just a few short words between him and freedom if only he can get them out without laughing.

Until Jester tracks him down, that is. He hasn’t - they’ve been apart, and then in Aeor, and then working on their big project for the past few weeks, and Caleb hasn’t exactly gotten around to admitting that he might like Essek to - admitting anything, really. Or telling Essek that now that Jester knows he’s ticklish and doesn’t entirely mind it, any attempt to escape will only end in more retribution.

An oversight, in retrospect.

Kingsley purrs, apparently entirely delighted with his victim’s predicament. “Oh, come on now, you can do it! It’s been a while since I’ve seen a good magic show.” Essek shakes his head frantically, lips pressed together even as his cheeks puff with repressed giggles, and Kingsley grins all the wider. “No? Let’s see how long you last when I really start pressing your buttons, then.”

On his side and snickering helplessly, Caleb cannot help but feel a little jealous as he watches Kingsley tug up Essek’s shirt and wait for his eyes to widen in terrible anticipation. “One last chance, then? Cause I think this is really going to tickle.”

Caleb wants him to succeed, really, he does - but watching Essek try as hard as he can to curl in on himself as a single fingertip starts to rub at his navel, squirming and squeezing his eyes shut and finally barking out the first two syllables of his incantation before the third succumbs to high, squeaking laughter holds its own considerable charm. “Ahahaaaa - nooo, hehe! - wh -” He laughs a little more, shoulders shaking, and barely manages to gasp out the words. “Fjord - Jester - where -”

“Couldn’t take it? Oh, you are a ticklish thing,” Kingsley tells him, laughing when Essek’s attempt at protesting collapses into a breathless snort. “You’re wondering where they are? Really, I couldn’t say. Maybe they’ll be gone for hours, and I’ll just have to keep tickling and tickling-”

He’s focused in on Essek now, taking his other hand off Caleb to wiggle it menacingly over a defenseless armpit - Essek takes one look at the new threat and screams. “Caleb!”

Kingsley’s replaced his hand with his tail squeezing around Caleb’s thigh, and it tickles so badly and unexpectedly that Caleb would like to curl up in a ball and do some screaming of his own, but with Essek pleading for his help there’s no other choice.

He pulls himself back onto his elbows and flops into Kingsley’s lap as best he can with his legs chained, reaching blindly for ticklish spots that used to belong to Mollymauk - gasping through a new wave of laughter as the spade of Kingsley’s tail starts to poke at the soft back of his knee, he crowds his fingernails against the small of Kingsley’s back and yelps in preemptive terror as Kingsley starts to laugh and reaches for him instead. “Fjord! Jester!” he shouts. “Help!”

“Gah - oh, fuck, thahat’s - haaaa-” Kingsley flails for a moment, legs kicking out as he tries to shimmy away, but in the next moment his fingers are tickling mercilessly under Caleb’s arms and Caleb can hardly breathe, let alone keep tickling him. He flails to escape, trying to wrap his arms around himself and use them to drag himself away at the same time, but really that just means that Kingsley’s hands are stuck in his armpits now and he’s going to die-

“Right, right, I’ve learned my lesson, no ganging up on our little star,” Kingsley grumbles. Caleb gasps in breathless relief as Kingsley works his hands free - he’s facedown on the mattress, but he hears Essek shout for Fjord and Jester too before dissolving into another fit of giggles. Presumably Kingsley’s putting his tail to good use somewhere.

A hand grabs his shoulder, and he’s rolled over onto his back with his legs untwisting beneath him. He blinks up into Kingsley’s gaze, eyebrows raised in apparent dudgeon. “You, on the other hand,” Kingsley growls, as if his lips weren’t curving up into a fanged smile already, “I am absolutely going to need both hands for what I’m about to do to your ribs.”

“Mist,” Caleb sputters reflexively, and then, louder, “Fjord! Jester! FJORD!”

Kingsley’s eyebrows rise even higher. “Oh, it’s sweet that you think they’re going to help you. Unless - oh, did you want more hands?”

Caleb hardly hears the approaching footsteps over his own anticipatory squeal as he watches Kingsley’s fingers start to wander back down towards his ribs. “Nein! - eheeheh, oh gods, nein-”

But then, suddenly, blessedly, the fingers ghost lightly over his ribs and settle for spidering across his tummy instead. He wheezes in relief - half of it comes out as giggles, his nerves still on high alert, but he fully intends to enjoy breathing while he can.

He flops tiredly back, eyes tracking to the doorway as Fjord and Jester stroll in. “Sorry for the wait,” Fjord says politely. “Jester and I were just finishing up lunch. Because it’s lunchtime.”

“No rush, Captain!” Kingsley practically chirps. “We’re having a wonderful time, aren’t we, boys?”

Fjord looks completely unsurprised to find the two of them in chains. Jester is practically bouncing beside him. Caleb imagines this does not bode well for them.

Essek pipes up from behind him, metal clanking as he tries to move to see around Kingsley. “Did - heh - did we oversleep? I think the shackles are a bit uncalled for-”

“Oh,” Fjord says, low and dangerous. He’s not smiling, not yet, but Caleb can see it in his eyes and that is even worse. “Don’t mind those. It would be a shame to let the two of you leave your bedroom so soon when you haven’t seen it in days and days, wouldn’t it?”

With Kingsley still tickling at his waist, Caleb can’t even begin to coax his stomach muscles to let him sit up as Fjord and Jester cross to the bed and loom over the both of them. Jester claps her hands together, looking dangerously pleased with herself. “Do you like them?” she enthuses. “We got them from a pirate raid, because someone put our other set on a fish person that jumped right back into the ocean.”

“They were getting rusted anyway - I don’t think we collected a single one of those at sea, they’re not even waterproofed.” Fjord grumbles amiably. “These, though-”

He hooks one finger delicately through the chain connecting Caleb’s ankles to the bedpost and tugs, dragging one helpless foot just close enough to scoop up in a waiting hand. “Now these are made for some real seafaring shit. Could hold a body for as long as you want, as long as they aren’t inclined to use any magic tricks.”

Caleb tries to yank his foot back. Fjord just chuckles and leans over to stare him down, his yellow eyes warm and amused. “Isn’t that right, Caleb.”

“No magic tricks,” he gasps out through another fit of giggles as Fjord rubs a warning thumb over his sole. It’s hardly a concession - between that and Kingsley, he hardly has the breath to try anything.

“Good,” Fjord says encouragingly. He puts Caleb’s foot gently down and turns to Essek. “Now you.”

Caleb turns to look at him - from what little of Essek’s body language he can read, he looks wholly confused. “You’re not going to let us go?”

Fjord crosses his arms. “Oh, I’m sure we can come to some kind of agreement. Just consider this a friendly reminder that Jester, Kingsley and I are quite capable of following any… magical exits.”

Essek visibly rallies at the mention of magic, quirking an eyebrow. “I wasn’t aware you had learned how to Teleport.”

“Essek,” Caleb hisses. Fjord shushes him and stalks a single step forward, just close enough to start tickling lightly at the bottom of one purple foot.

Essek’s superior expression lasts all of a moment before his entire body starts flailing to escape the single point of contact. “Ah! No, nohoho, wahahait, I didn’t - ahaha, stop that!”

“You’re right, I can’t Teleport,” Fjord says conversationally. “Good catch, I’d kind of forgotten about that one. Jes, we’ve got some antimagic stuff on the ship, right?”

Jester interrupts herself from making increasingly dramatic faces at Essek to answer. “I think so? You know, just in case if we meet someone icky like you know who.”

“Perfect. Maybe you and Kingsley can keep Essek busy, and I’ll head back to the ship and root around for it?” He looks calmly down at Essek, kicking as frantically as he can with the few inches of leeway the shackles afford him and still completely unable to avoid Fjord’s fingers. “It’ll take a while, mind you.”

Jester perks up, dancing over and reaching for Essek’s other foot. “Yes! Kingsley, did you try his ears yet? They get all flappy and it’s really really-”

“No!” Essek rushes out, squeaking in harried protest when they still don’t stop tickling up his arches. “I - wait,” he pleads. “No! I won’t cast, I won’t!”

Fjord grins. “That wasn’t so hard, was it? Alright, Kingsley, can we give them a moment?”

Kingsley removes his hands from both of them rather reluctantly. Fjord claps his shoulder in silent thanks. “Now, would either of you like to explain why we found the two of you half-dead from sleep deprivation?”

“Yeah, you guys, we were so worried!” Jester adds. “You can’t do that when we’re not around to take care of you! You guys haven’t been doing this all year, have you?”

“We’ve only met up in the last few months,” Caleb adds, wincing a little as their eyes turn to him. He sits up slowly, wincing apologetically in the direction of Essek’s wrist shackles. “But no, we have not, we are just working on this project - it is a real ficker, there are so many moving pieces - and we are nearly done, we meant to sleep last night.”

“How many days?” Fjord asks. “One? Two?”

When neither of them answer, sharing a silent look, he hovers a hand threateningly over each of their trapped feet. “Believe me, you really don’t want us to pick a number.”

“Four,” Essek says warily. “But Caleb slept for at least an hour each night, and I don’t need to-”

“Oh, four’s a lot,” Kingsley cuts in. “Did you not learn how to sleep in shifts, not being on the ocean, or do you just enjoy each other’s company that much?”

Essek turns bright red. Caleb’s pretty sure he turns even redder. Even Fjord looks a little embarrassed as Jester and Kingsley collapse into laughter.

Jester sobers quickly, though, pouting insistently down at them.“Four is pret-ty bad, you guys.”

Kingsley nods seriously. Thus validated, she starts bouncing excitedly on the balls of her feet. “I think we need to punish them, Fjord!”

Caleb can easily guess what this punishment will entail. “Wait a moment,” he says hastily, “we have not even told you about this project-”

“It will be worth it,” Essek adds. “If you would just let us-”

Fjord nods thoughtfully, ignoring their protests. “What do you say, a minute for each hour they should have been sleeping?”

“No-” Caleb starts.

“So that’s sixteen for Essek, and - Caleb’s been napping on and off, sounds like, so we’ll round it down to a neat half hour for him.”

Caleb gapes fearfully. A half hour of tickling, after months and months - he can admit to himself that he missed it a little, but- “That’s too much,” he blurts. “Bitte, you’ll kill me-”

“Really, this is unnecessary,” Essek adds, surprisingly dignified for the way he’s trying helplessly to press his feet against the bed. “Just - we are well rested now, we only need a few hours more to finish the project, there is no need!”

Jester pouts. “Oh, Essek, don’t you want to hang out with us?”

Essek flounders at that, and Caleb can’t help the soft smile that slips out of him. “I would like nothing more,” he assures her, “but being chained up and - and tortured - was not quite on my mind-”

“Well then, you shouldn’t have been so dumb, Essek,” she says cheerily. “Caleb, do you want me or Fjord to tickle you?”

His mouth goes dry. Jester will be - Fjord teases, but he is gentle at least, and Jester is - Jester-

He looks over at Essek, wide-eyed and eyes flicking between all of them in some strange combination of bewilderment and anticipation, and braces himself. “Jester.”

Kingsley laughs, delighted. “Oh, he must really love you,” he tells Essek. “He’s gone and given you the better option by far.”

Essek looks at Caleb, gaze softening. “Really?”

Caleb grimaces back at him, a little embarrassed by himself. “He’s exaggerating. And besides, I am not the one laid flat out here.”

Essek frowns. “Yes, about that.”

“Caleb doesn’t like having his wrists pinned down,” Jester says easily, scrambling up onto the bed and into Caleb’s lap. “Though you should know that already if you two are boning-”

“Jester,” Caleb pleads. Kingsley starts to laugh again.

She beams at him, darting in to press a kiss to the tip of his nose. “Hi, Caleb!”

It’s impossible not to smile back. “Hallo, blueberry.”

He looks around her to see Fjord walk over and settle on Essek’s side of the bed, patting his shoulder companionably. “It’s good to see you two, really.”

Essek just sighs.

Kingsley prods at his belly, earning a hasty yelp. “He’s in a mood, it seems. You want some help with him?”

His stomach grumbles, just then, and Fjord laughs. “Why don’t you get some lunch instead,” he suggests. “We’d have brought something up, but the screaming sounded rather urgent.”

“Aye-aye, Captain,” Kingsley cocks a loose salute and swings back off the bed with one more tickle under each of their arms, snorting in amusement as Caleb and Essek both squirm and protest. “The others should be arriving soon, I’ll keep a weather eye on the door.”

“Yes, do that,” Fjord says, waiting for him to round the corner and start down the stairs. “That guy is really into sea lingo.”

“Kingsley is great,” Jester enthuses. “Don’t you guys think he looks so much prettier now that he’s all tan?”

She’s not wrong. “Ja, sure.” Caleb says. “By the way, what exactly did the two of you tell him about-” He flushes. “About my ribs?”

“Oh, you know, just some stuff!” Jester says cheerfully. “Most of it is definitely not true by now, probably, since it’s been a super long time since we’ve seen you.”

She puts both of her hands on Caleb’s shoulders and presses, sending him flat on his back and leaning over with a mischievous smile. “Good thing we have a whole half hour to catch up, huh?”

Caleb gulps.

#tickling #critical role #shadowgast #caleb widogast #essek thelyss #kingsley tealeaf #fjord #jester lavorre #chocfic

[purrincess-chat]

Marinette Dupain-Cheng’s Spite Playlist: Remix CH13

When Alya is so close, but so far. Will she sus out Lila this time around? Stay tuned ;)

Previous     First      Next    AO3

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Chapter 13: Sorry Not Sorry

“Ladybug and Chat Noir defeated another supervillain with the help of their new sidekick Malin.”

Alya hugged her knees to her chest, the news footage broadcasting on TV. Ladybug had given out the fox Miraculous again, only this time, she didn't pick her.

“Al? You okay?”

Alya blinked, turning to Nino who sat beside her wearing a worried crease on his brow. She swallowed the lump in her throat and shrugged.

“I…” She shifted back to the TV. “I don’t know.”

“You’re upset.”

It was a statement, not a question. Alya bit her lip as tears welled in her eyes before burying her face in his shirt with a nod.

“She picked someone else!” she wailed. “Why didn’t she come to me?”

Nino wrapped his arms around her, leaning his head against hers. “Maybe she didn’t have time,” he reasoned. “The akuma was on the other side of town, so maybe she needed someone close.”

“Yeah, you’re probably right…” She sniffled. “Maybe I’m overreacting.”

“Ladybug and Lila are bffs, so why don’t you ask Lila to talk to her for you?” Nino suggested.

Or so she said.

Alya pursed her lips. She didn’t know what to believe anymore when it came to Lila. Adrien hated lying, and so did Marinette. But everything just seemed too convenient. There was no doubt in her mind that Marinette thought she was telling the truth, but how much were her feelings for Adrien clouding her judgment? And if Adrien was getting his stories from Marinette…

There was only one way to find out if Lila was telling the truth once and for all—the one person who Alya trusted to tell the truth above all else.

“I’ll ask Lila if she can set up an interview for me,” she said. “Then I can ask Ladybug myself.”

“Good. That’s my girl.” Nino brushed a tear from her cheek. “You know I’m always here for you.”

“I know.” Alya stretched up to touch her lips to his.

“I love you no matter what, Al.”

“Yeah. I love you too.”

♪♫♪ peace ♪♫♪

“Wait, so what happened?” Adrien asked.

The warm spring sun cast glistening rays across the Seine while Adrien reclined on a bench, chatting over ice cream with Marinette. It was the first time he’d seen her since visiting Macy’s house, and he’d missed a lot in a few short days. Lightning round catch-up sessions seemed to be the new norm for them. Between Marinette changing schools and Adrien’s packed schedule, finding time to see each other was almost impossible.

“I don’t know really,” Marinette said. “I was walking home from Martin’s house, and Gabrielle latched onto me. She was being followed by some creepy guys.”

“Did you report it?”

“Well, no…” Marinette admitted, taking a sheepish lick of her ice cream. “We got away, and nothing else happened.”

“You should have gone with Eliott and Macy. What if something had happened to you?” Adrien scolded. The thought made his blood boil.

“I know, but if I hadn’t been there, something could have happened to Gabrielle. I know she’s mean, but I don’t want her getting hurt.” She lowered her gaze.

Adrien breathed a small sigh, then smiled. “Well, I’m glad you’re alright. I’d hate for you to get hurt too,” he said. “Actually, I’ve been thinking about you a lot lately.”

Her cheeks flushed a lovely shade of pink. “R-Really?”

“Lila’s still parading around like she owns the place, and whenever I walk around the school now, I think about how you used to sit in the courtyard with Alya or hang out in the art room with Alix and Nathaniel…” His voice trailed off. “I know why you left, and I’m glad you did if it makes you happier, but I won’t lie and say I don’t miss you.”

“I miss too! I mean, you. You too. I miss you too,” Marinette stammered.

“Maybe I should transfer to your new school. Then I’d be away from Lila, and we won’t have to have these quick catch-up sessions,” Adrien said. “What do you think? Would I look good in all gray?”

“You look good in everything,” she said, then quickly added, “I-I mean, your dad is a famous fashion designer, so of course you always look fine. Not fine like, hey, you fine, but just fine, ya know?” She shoved a big spoonful of ice cream into her mouth.

“Thanks.” He chuckled.

Something about the rosiness in her cheeks made him giddy. After the past few weeks, he wanted to make her smile too. Too often now, the sparkle in her eyes was a dull reflection of what it once was. She may put on a happy face, but Adrien had hid enough sorrow in his life to know when someone was still hurting. Feeling bold, he reached out to brush the corner of her mouth with his cone, smearing orange ice cream across her upper lip.

“Hey!” She flinched away with a giggle.

Marinette even attempted to return the favor with her own ice cream, but Adrien blocked her playful attempts easily, grasping her hand in his own to keep it away from his face. Their giggles stopped short when their struggling brought them face-to-face, lips inches apart.

Something in her eyes resonated with him, a glowing sense of longing and wonder that made his heart race. Marinette was precious to him. She always had been ever since they met. He never noticed before, but something always brought him back to her—an invisible string tying them together. Being next to her felt right. Safe. Warm. She was a cozy cottage offering him refuge from the cold with her glowing fires, but he didn’t want to be the only one soaking in the warmth. He wanted to be her refuge too.

He wasn’t sure what came over him, and he’d spend the next several hours attempting to decipher his next actions. His gaze flicked down to the ice cream melting against her lips, and he leaned in, breath hitching as their noses brushed. She closed her eyes, tilting her head ever-so-slightly, but they flew open again as he trailed his thumb across her lip.

She faltered as he pulled away, face falling into one hand. Ragged breaths heaved her chest, and she clutched her shirt tightly. Had he gone too far?

“Sorry, that was dumb,” he said with a wince. “I hope I didn’t make you uncomfortable.”

“No, no!” she insisted, waving her arms. “Just I thought that…”

“Thought what?”

“I thought that…you were going to kiss me,” she said.

Now his cheeks were the ones burning. “Oh.”

“It’s fine. It just took me by surprise. That’s all.” She averted her gaze, shoulders slumping as she shoved a tiny spoonful into her mouth.

It wasn’t an absurd assumption to make now that he thought about it. He really was bad at this sort of thing, but now that she mentioned it…

“Do you want to?” he asked.

She blinked, turning back to him. “Do I want to what?”

“Kiss me.”

Her eyes widened, and she stared at him, speechless. What was he thinking? Of course she didn’t want to kiss him! Besides, he was in love with Ladybug. At least, he had been… No! He was in love with Ladybug. There was no denying it, but after spending so much time with Marinette…

He wasn’t sure who leaned in first. Maybe him. Marinette’s magnetism always drew him in whether he was aware of it or not. Was she drawn to him in the same way too? The way her fluttery lashes hooded over her eyes when their noses touched made him think so.

Should he stop? Did he want to stop? He didn’t know. Everything was jumbled, but her breath was warm on his lips, tasting of blackberries and vanilla. Perhaps they could build one cabin together and share the warmth of their flames. Maybe then they’d both be safe.

A city groundskeeper cranked on a leaf blower just before their lips touched. They jolted apart, Marinette physically shifting several centimeters away from him, clutching her chest. Silence stretched between them, deafened by the roar of the leaf blower. Hearts hammering, lips tingling, neither one was able to look at the other.

Adrien’s mind whirled. He’d almost kissed Marinette. And he was okay with it. In fact, he was disappointed that they hadn’t kissed. Did he dare try again? What did this mean for his feelings for Ladybug? Was he in love with Marinette?

The questions racing through his mind screeched to a halt, singling in on that one thought. In love with Marinette. No. She was just…

A friend? He was starting to have his doubts. Was there anyone else that he would go to bat for like Marinette? Adrien had fallen further than he ever thought capable in the past few weeks, done things he wasn’t proud of, but would do over again in a heartbeat if it brought her some relief. He wasn’t an expert, but those things didn’t seem platonic to him anymore. So the question remained.

“Marinette, I-” The buzz of her phone cut him off, and she fumbled to retrieve it from her purse with a shaking hand.

“Oh.” She stood up. “I have to go. Martin and I have a group project to work on this afternoon.”

His heart sank. “No worries. It was nice to catch up with you for a while.”

“Yeah, it was. It was nice…” She pursed her lips.

“Can I see you again soon?”

Her eyes found his, timid and uncertain, and a smile curled on her lips. She leaned down to kiss his cheek, eyes sparkling the way he remembered. “I’ll see you soon.”

Adrien watched her go, the electricity of her kiss stinging his cheek. Who was Marinette to him? He wasn’t sure anymore, but the pounding of his heart was evidence enough that things were changing.

♪♫♪ All the Boys ♪♫♪

“Tilt your head to the left more.”

The park across from Marinette’s house buzzed with children, and Marinette’s cheeks burned as Martin’s camera clicked with each photo. When Mme. Pierre paired them for an art project, she hadn’t anticipated being a model, but with her design skills and Martin’s love of photography, a photoshoot just made sense. Martin was gentle with his commands, and having seen his work before, there was no doubt they’d turn out amazing. Still, Marinette vastly preferred staying on the designing end of fashion.

With one last click, Martin paused to review his camera roll. “That’s good for now. You can take a break.”

“Great.” Marinette breathed a sigh of relief, happy to have the camera out of her face. “I don’t know how Adrien does it. Modeling is so awkward.”

“Don’t say that. You’ve done a really good job,” Martin assured her.

“Can I take a look?” She nodded at the camera in his hands.

“Sure. I’m gonna grab a different lens for our next take.” He retreated to his bag while Marinette sifted through the photos.

Even though she felt stiff and unnatural while posing, Martin managed to capture her from all the right angles. She almost didn’t recognize herself in some of them. Was this how Adrien felt all the time? Was the dreamy-eyed boy on posters around town a stranger to him as well? She already felt self-conscious after only a few photos. How Adrien kept his confidence with his face plastered all over Paris was beyond her.

“Oh!” She reached the end of their photos, but the next image brought a smile to her lips.

Martin had taken some photos to test his new camera when they’d visited him last. Most of them were silly, but Martin had captured a particularly candid photo of Macy. Light from the window illuminated her hair, casting shadows across her cheeks from her long lashes. It was beautiful, and Marinette could see why Martin took it.

“What do you think so far? I was thinking for our next set we could try to get Notre Dame in the background, and- What?” Martin paused to quirk a brow at Marinette’s smirk.

“I was just scrolling, and I came across this picture of Macy from last week. It’s a really good photo, you should show her-”

Martin’s cheeks flushed, and he snatched the camera from her grasp. Seeming to realize the forcefulness of his actions, he flashed her an apologetic wince.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to peek,” she said.

“No, no, it’s fine. I…actually can I tell you something?” he asked.

Marinette took a seat on a nearby bench and patted the space beside her with an encouraging nod, and Martin sank next to her stiffly.

“You probably don’t care, but I want to ask for your opinion…” He curled his shoulders.

“Why wouldn’t I care?” Marinette asked, then with a smile added, “What’s on your mind?”

“Well…I kind of like Macy as more than a friend.” He rubbed the back of his neck, cheeks as rosy as Ladybug’s super suit. “Is that weird?”

“Aww, Martin,” Marinette cooed. “Of course it’s not weird. Why would it be?”

“I dunno. Just…she didn’t know I took that picture of her, but I just couldn’t help it,” he said.

“Well, I’m not exactly sure I’m one to judge. I used to have a ton of pictures of Adrien all over my walls,” Marinette admitted. “So I think one picture is fine.”

Martin shifted his gaze to his lap, tapping his fingers on the camera. “I transferred here last year, and the first time I heard Macy sing I thought she was really beautiful,” Martin said. “I never thought she’d notice me until you came along.”

“That’s so sweet, Martin!” Marinette said. “I’m sure she’ll notice you if you put yourself out there.”

“I dunno…” he said. “She likes really handsome, popular guys like Adrien. I don’t think she’d ever look at me that way.”

Marinette bit her tongue, thinking back to what Eliott told her after his rehearsal a few days before. “Don’t sell yourself short. You’re a really sweet guy, Martin, and I’m sure you’ll turn her head one of these days. Try talking to her more, and let her get to know the real you.”

“Thanks, Marinette. I’m still getting used to all of this. I’ve never had friends like this before, and I’m really glad I met you,” Martin said with a smile.

This time it was her turn to blush. “I hope everything works out between you and Macy.”

“I hope the same for you and Adrien.”

Now there was a thought to get her heart racing. What was that earlier? Was Adrien really going to kiss her? Did this mean he loved her too? Did she dare even dream? She wasn’t sure anymore. Just like Martin, all she could do was hope her feelings would be reciprocated someday.

♪♫♪ Falling Down ♪♫♪

Alya’s shoulders were stiff as she entered the school on Monday. Her peers chatted about the new hero, Rena Rouge’s legacy long forgotten. She kept her head low as she headed to the locker rooms.

“Hey, best friend,” Lila greeted with a smile.

“Hey, can I talk to you in private for a minute?” Alya asked.

Lila sobered. “Of course,” she said with an unmistakable hint of caution. She followed Alya to a secluded corner of the courtyard. “What’s up?”

“You’re friends with Ladybug, right?” Alya asked.

“Yeah, we’re like this.” Lila crossed her fingers. “Why?”

“Well, with the new superhero… I just wanted to get some inside deets for my blog. What’s the story? What happened to Rena Rouge? That sort of thing,” Alya said carefully.

“Oh, is that all?” Lila relaxed. “Well, she usually consults me before she picks a new hero because she values my input. I don’t know all of the details on Malin, but I can totally ask for you.”

“Actually, could you set up an interview for me? My viewers are dying to know the scoop.” Alya pressed her palms together.

“Totally. I’ll let her know you want to interview her after the next akuma. I’m sure she won’t mind,” Lila said.

“Thanks, girl. You’re the best.”

Lila smiled and hugged her tightly. “Don’t you forget it.”

#mdcsp #mdcspr #marinette dupain-cheng's spite playlist remix #marinette dupain-cheng's spite playlist #my writing

[turning-dreams-into-chaos]

Questions

Sirius Black x Reader

Request:  hello! can i request an imagine in which reader is Lucius’ little sister, so she has a bad reputation among the marauders, but on their last year, her and Sirius are supposed to work on a project together so they start spending more time together and he realises that she’s not like her family at all, so they start developing feelings for each other? maybe they even kiss in the end? hehe. thanks!

Word Count: 4.3K

A/N: I wrote this for @angelinathebook‘s writing challenge and dear god, it’s taken months to begin this because pookiebear just hit 2,000 followers and the challenge was for 300... Love that. Anyways, my prompts were “I like spending time with you.” and “I’ve fallen in love with you.” Enjoy!

***

Y/N Malfoy.

Your name held a lot of depth at Hogwarts that you didn’t want. Being the younger sister of Lucius Malfoy didn’t come easy. Everyone either feared your brother or didn’t like you because of him, which sounded absurd when you’ve tried your best over the years to make friends outside of your house. Your brother said it wasn’t worth it, Slytherin’s would always be superior and to stick with the pure bloods here, but you hated the thought, knowing the bad beliefs had rubbed onto Lucius greatly.

Even after Lucius graduated a few years ago, people still didn’t like you and you gave up, finding that trying to make people understand you is too tiring. You had one more year left at Hogwarts and all you wanted was to finish it off gracefully, no longer embarrassing yourself with the rejection of friend groups.

Tapping your fingers against the table, you tried to pay attention to professor McGonagall teach today’s lesson, but it was really hard when all you heard was the Marauders definitely not paying attention. It was irritating really how they didn’t seem to get trouble for their antics today. After hearing one of them snicker, you couldn’t help but look back at them. Sirius and James were both turned around to Remus and Peter’s table, Remus had his face in his notes but an obvious smile on his lips and he listened to his friends. Peter was snickering quietly as James mumbled something, but Sirius was the only one who hadn’t been paying attention, instead he was smirking as he saw you staring at his friends. Once he caught your attention, he sent you a wink before your eyes widened and you almost snapped your neck as you faced the front again.

Sirius rolled his eyes as he turned back to the group. “Malfoy was looking at us.” He whispered as James scoffed.

“What did she want?” James mumbled with a half smirk as he spared a glance at you, finding you focused more on the lesson.

Sirius furrowed his brows. “And I would know because we obviously had a very vocal conversation.” Sirius said sarcastically as his friends laughed a little louder, James nudging Sirius before someone cleared their throat behind James. The four of them looked up, seeing McGonagall standing there and the whole class looking at them. “Hello Minnie, what can we do for you?” Sirius asked, plastering a smile on his face that caused Professor McGonagall to purse her lips.

“Mr. Black, it would do you and your friends good to pay attention in my class. Especially for the term project I’ve assigned.” She raised a brow at them and Sirius remained unfazed.

“Ah, that’s okay Minnie. I’m sure we’ll all figure it out together.” He sent he a wink as McGonagall started towards the front of the classroom.

“For your project, I will be assigning your partners.” You watched Sirius’ smile fall as you let out a laugh, an action that didn’t go unnoticed by Professor McGonagall, though she said nothing. “And Mr. Black?” She called out, without even turning around. “That’s detention.”

He threw his hand in the air as he glanced around the room, finding you trying hard not to smile. Sirius huffed out a breath at your reaction. Although he’d hadn’t had many run-ins with you, he knew your brother was bad news and he assumed you’d be just like him. He heard rumors of you trying to befriend people, but based on the fact you never seemed to stay with those people, Sirius was certain it was because you were like your brother.

As Professor McGonagall began rambling off partners for the project, Sirius finally began listening, waiting for his name to be read. His friends all had their assignments and Sirius shifted in his seat, realizing there were only a few people left. “Sirius Black.” McGonagall said and for what seemed like the first time as she read off the names, she paused. Sirius furrowed his brows, watching her cross something out and scribble down something else before she continued. “And Y/N Malfoy.” Sirius’ mouth dropped opened as he stared at McGonagall, knowing he heard her correctly. He looked over to you, seeing you slumped back on your stool in a state much like Sirius.

“Class dismissed.” McGonagall said before looking up, seeing a few of her partners already heading to each other to start talking. In fact, the only two who seemed not to was you and Sirius. You slowly packed your belongings, sparing a glance back to Sirius who was still sitting in shock.

“Great.” You mumbled before heading over to him. “Black?” You said, knocking him out of his stupor. He blinked a few times before letting out a pitiful laugh and grabbing his bookbag.

“Come on, lets get this over with.” He grumbled as he started walking out of the room. Staying in place, you looked back to McGonagall, seeing a smirk on her face as you began to wonder what you did to her for her to force this on you. “Malfoy, are you coming?” Sirius asked when he realized you weren’t following.

You swallowed thickly before following behind him in silence until you reached the library. He stopped inside, glancing around to all the students before looking to you. “You really weren’t paying attention when she told us about the project, were you?”

Sirius expected you to bring that situation up, but he hadn’t expected your voice to sound so soft when you had. He nodded slightly, licking his lips as he quirked a brow. “I think we both know I wasn’t.”

“I figured.” There was a playfulness that again shocked Sirius as he cleared his throat, following you to the correct section of the library. You scanned the shelves for a moment before starting to pull books out. When you had a couple of them in your hands, you turned towards Sirius, giving him a huge fake grin as you pulled his hands up and started piling the books into him.

Sirius looked down at the stack as it started piling up. “Do we really need all these?” He asked dumbfounded, pulling his head back as the books reached his face. He heard you laugh and furrowed his brows.

“Absolutely not, but I wanted to see how many it’d take you to say something.” You smirked, counting the books in his hands. “It was 13, in case you were wondering.”

Sirius tried to hide his chuckle but it didn’t work. As soon as you removed all but 3 books, his face was back to the same mad looking one he wore when you left the classroom. You quickly averted your gaze. “Shall we?” you asked, gesturing to the table next to you. Sirius didn’t nod or anything as he placed the books onto the table and slid into the seat with his back to you. You let out a nervous breath you hoped he couldn’t hear as you moved around the table.

“So,” Sirius said, looking down at the books. “What’s the project?” You nodded and explained the project to him again, this time with Sirius listening and asking questions.

“That’s it?” Sirius asked a few minutes later once you were finished. You nodded, watching him lean back with a smirk. “See I didn’t need to listen in class.”

“Only because I did.” You quipped with a chuckle and reached for a book. Sirius, however, saw you reach for it and grabbed it first. He wore a grin as you looked at him, rolling your eyes and reaching for another one.

“You’re so mature.” You mumbled and Sirius clicked his tongue with a grin.

“I am, aren’t I?” His obvious use of sarcasm wasn’t lost on you as you flipped opened your book, scanning the pages for any useful information. Sirius did so as well, although he kept taking looks up at you before slamming his book closed. The sound caused you to jump as you looked up confused. “Okay, what’s your deal.”

“My deal? You’re the one who slammed the book closed?” You narrowed your eyes in confusion as he shook his head.

“I mean, are you like everyone says you are?” He shrugged and once again you were confused.

“People talk about me?”

Sirius averted his gaze, unsure if he should say more. “A little.” He admitted, watching you nod slowly.

“What do they say?” your voice wavered a little and Sirius gulped as he shifted in his seat.

“Just that you were the same as your brother.”

You let out a surprise huff of air with your eyebrows raised. “Oh.” You began, glancing about the library. It was then you noticed a few people casting looks your way, seeing you with Sirius obviously earning a few conversations.

“Are they right?” Sirius asked bluntly, tapping his pen against the table.

You locked eyes with him, your mouth upturning to smirk. “Absolutely.” You lied, seeing Sirius’ face falter. “You know, Lucius and I, brother and sister, why wouldn’t I be like my family?” Your question was rhetorical and Sirius knew it, but one thing was hitting him hard. He knew how Lucius was, everyone did, but he also knew how different one can be from their family. Look at his family. His brother and him barely spoke to each other as it is and he was estranged from his parents before he was even out of school. Why did he just assume you were like your brother? Why did everyone assume you were like your brother?

“Look this was fun, kind of, and it was a great beginning to the project, but I have to go to my next class.” You lied to him, putting the books in your arms to borrow. You left Sirius with the one he was reading as he nodded.

“Yeah, of course.” Sirius said, shaking away the thoughts in his head. “Uh, meet tomorrow?” He asked and you nodded, not looking in his eyes.

“Yeah. See you then.”

With that, you were off, leaving Sirius alone in the library with the book in front of him. He sighed loudly after you left, slowly falling himself forward onto the table. He couldn’t be wrong about you, right? 7 years of going to school together and he couldn’t have assumed wrong about you this whole time, could he?

Sirius groaned to himself, realizing he had been sitting there for quite alone before shoving the book into his backpack and heading out to find his friends. He realized he could’ve used his map, but he needed the walk. It took him down the black lake, feeling the cool air hit his skin as he stopped walking when he saw someone sitting against a tree. He snickered quietly as he moved closer, leaning against the tree.

“So, what class is this?” he asked, watching you jump out of your skin, the book you were intently reading flying out of your hands as Sirius threw his head back in laughter.

“For Merlin’s sake Black, what the hell?!” you shouted at him, holding an arm against your stomach as you let out a breath.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry!” Sirius continued to laugh as he fell to the ground, pushing your book over to you as you snatched it, keeping your eyes off him.

“You are not funny.” You muttered, fixing your position as Sirius moved to lean against the tree right next to you.

He was still laughing slightly as you opened your book back up, trying to find where you left off. “So, are we going to talk about how you lied about having class?”

“Nope.” Sirius made an appreciative face at your honesty as he watched you adjust your green and silver scarf around your neck. There was a silence that overcame the both of you before you couldn’t take it anymore. “Did you need something?” You asked, putting your book in your lap as you turned to meet his grey eyes.

Sirius put on a cocky smile. “Nope.” He said, popping the ‘p’. You bit lip as you kept yourself from saying anything and looking back to your book.

Once again, there was a silence as Sirius stared out to the lake, often taking glances to you reading. “Stop looking at me.” You muttered and turned your page.

“I’m not looking at you.” Sirius said very much falsely as his eyes never moved off your face.

“Black, I’m serious.”

“I’m pretty sure I’m-“

“Don’t even finish that sentence.” You interrupted him, looking at him again only to see him smile. It was then you realized he was messing with you, trying to get a reaction out of like he’d get out of your brother. “Alright. How about this, you can ask me one question a day until the end of the project, but you have to leave me alone for the rest of today.”

Sirius raised a brow. “What makes you think I want to know anything about you?” He asked and you shrugged.

“It’s your choice, take it or leave it.”

Sirius considered for a second before nodding. “Okay, deal.” You expected him to ask you the question then, but he didn’t, instead he just sat there.

“Your question?” you nudged him, hoping this could be sped up.

“Oh, I have to think about it.” He smiled at you again before leaning back against the tree.

You groaned although you were amused at his choice. “Fine, then as you think, lets get some work done?” You switched your book for one about the project and Sirius listened, pulling out his book. You weren’t sure how long you both sat there, talking over the project and exchanging information, but soon it was getting colder and even your scarves weren’t warm enough for the cool air.

“I think that’s enough for tonight.” You said before letting out a yawn as you covered your face.

Sirius nodded as he stretched. “Agreed. I still have my question though.” You nodded, fighting off another yawn.

“Yep, what do you want to know?”

You both stood off, brushing off the grass as Sirius pondered for another second. “What’s your favorite color?”

You looked at him with astonishment. “That’s your question?” you asked and he nodded. “Out of everything you could’ve asked, you want to know my favorite color?”

Sirius doesn’t know why he chose that question, but seeing your confused reaction, he deemed it the right now. “Yep.”

“Y/F/C.” you said, letting your voice rise with amusement. Sirius pretended to make a mental note as you rolled your eyes, throwing your bag over your shoulder. “You’re going to forget.” You called over your shoulder as your heard Sirius jog to meet your strides as you walked.

“Ah, that’s where you’re wrong, Miss Malfoy.” You looked at him out of the corner of your eyes, an action Sirius caught with a grin. “My memory? Spectacular.” He boasted and you nodded, stopping when Sirius and you were about to go separate ways.

“Good, at least then I know you’re not going to forget our study times? Tomorrow? Black Lake after classes?”

“Sounds like a plan. I’ll bring us a blanket.” He promised, making a mental note as you snorted.

“That’s cheeky.” You grinned before walking your way, hearing Sirius yell out to you.

“I meant for the ground! So, we don’t have to sit on the grass!” You glanced over your shoulder before you turned the corner, sending Sirius a wink as he stood in place, watching you disappear. “Cheeky.” He scoffed, finding the smile on his face not going away any time soon.

Sirius, despite his memory not being as perfect as he promised, was right on time for the project time the next day, and the day after that and every day for the next month, often getting there before you. He always had the blanket too, spreading it out on the ground as you both sat or laid on it, reading your books and working on McGonagall’s assignment.

You didn’t have much longer in the project, and Sirius and you were right on schedule to finish and if someone asked you, Sirius and you were starting to get along really well. Sirius felt the same way, he wasn’t expecting a friendship to blossom between the two of you, but it was so easy. You were so unlike how he expected. Sirius was laying on his side, propped up on his elbow as he flipped through the book in front of him, honestly getting a little bored of what he was reading. He sighed, eyes moving to you, slouched over and head leaning onto your palm as you flipped the page.

Feeling Sirius looking at you, you glanced up, meeting his eyes and smiled before looking back down. Sirius however never looked away, in fact, a weird feeling overcame him. There were butterflies in his stomach and they wouldn’t leave. Although, he wasn’t sure if he wanted them too.

“Sirius?” you looked up. The butterflies seemed to flutter faster as you called him by his name, no longer by Black. “You haven’t read in almost 5 minutes, are you alright?”

He nodded, a lazy smile on his face as he pushed back his long hair, running his fingers softly through it. “Just tired, Y/N. We’ve been working for a while.” He admitted and you agreed, slowly closing the book and leaning back on your palm, settling into a position to look at him.

“Finish the rest tomorrow? I honestly think we’re almost done.” You voice held disappointment you hoped Sirius hadn’t picked up on. If he did, he didn’t say anything. “Got today’s question?” Sirius smiled slowly. He loved the question part of the day. Some of them were things like favorite class, favorite animal, favorite food and others were ones like what your Boggart was, if you’ve ever had your heart broken, just personal questions. Sirius allowed you to ask him a couple too and mainly you just re-asked his questions, figuring if you had to answer them then he had to as well.

Sirius sat up as he looked at you, preparing to ask the question. “That first day of the project,” He began, earning a nod from you to continue, “why did you pretend to have a class?”

You gulped, making a face. You should’ve known he would’ve asked that sooner or later. “I didn’t want to be assumed the same as my brother.” You admitted quietly. Sirius felt awful for asking as soon as he did. He should’ve realized the reason. “We’re different people, with different ideals, different mannerisms. I didn’t want his legacy to become mine. I think when you asked me if I was like him,” your words slowly quieted as you looked out to the lake, taking a shaky breath, “I figured if people were going to assume who I was without figuring it out themselves, then I’d let them.”

Sirius just stared at you, a small smile on his face that was beginning to make you uncomfortable before he spoke up. “I think I’m figuring you out.”

You let out an unsteady breath. “You are, are you?”

“I think so. I do know one thing.”

“And what’s that?”

“I like spending time with you.” His smile never faded from his face as you slowly smiled yourself.

“I like spending time with you, too.” You admitted, pulling your knees up as Sirius and you looked away from each other, feeling your cheeks heat up. The smile remained on your face until a few certain thoughts made their way into your mind and you had to remind yourself of a few things. The biggest thing?

He’s only spending time with you because he has to.

You cleared your throat, shoving the books and papers you had into your bag as you scurried off the ground. “Um, I almost forgot I have to do something!” you lied and right away, Sirius could tell. He didn’t say a thing as you backed away reminding him of tomorrow’s final worktime before you were gone, leaving Sirius alone to ponder what just happened.

That night, alone in your room, you finished up the project, putting the final touches and saving you the next few days of having to work with Sirius. You weren’t sure why you did it.

Maybe you didn’t want to force your presence upon Sirius anymore.

Maybe you figured it was better to detach yourself from Sirius before he could.

Or maybe you’ve realized the feelings you had every time Sirius smiled at you were no longer platonic.

The next day, Sirius had the blanket all set up by the time your study session came to start, he was seated, leaning against the tree as he waited for you. Today was going to be a big day for Sirius, he’d been telling his friends about you for the last month and after several nights of them trying to convince Sirius to tell you how he felt about you, he was going to. He was beginning to get a little concerned when you were late since you’d never been late before.

“Hey.” He heard behind him as he stood up, meeting your eyes as you stood back from the blanket. Her furrowed his brows, watching you fold your arms tight to your body.

“Is everything okay?” Sirius asked, trying to keep his voice lighthearted despite the dread in his chest.

You nodded, gulping and dropping your eyes. “I finished the project last night.”

“You what?” Sirius asked, unsure why you would do that. “I thought we were going to finish it together.”

The silence that crossed you both made Sirius uncomfortable. “Well, now we don’t have to.”

“Did I do something? If this was about the questions-“

“It’s not about the questions, Black.” Sirius’ heart dropped as you called him by his last name. “Look, the project’s over, you don’t have to be forced to spend time with me anymore, you can go back to pranking with your friends and I can go back to my books and avoiding everyone.” You started to turn around and head back to the school but obviously Sirius ran after you, grabbing your hand to turn you around.

“Hey, I was never forced to hang out with you.” He tried to counter but you just shot him a look, putting a smile on your face to hide much this was actually hurting you.

“If we were never assigned as partners, you’d still be thinking I was like Lucius, probably talking about me behind my back and your friends would be-“

“Don’t.” Sirius cut you off, not wanting you to take a trip down that path. He took a breath, trying to keep his voice low. “Y/N, If I never sat with James on the train in first year, I wouldn’t have any of my friends. If I stayed with my family, I would’ve grown up like them. If I hadn’t talked back to McGonagall that day she was assigning partners and if you hadn’t laughed at it, we never would’ve become what we are.” Your breathing hitched as he spoke. He was right though, just because you were forced to work on the project together doesn’t mean you can’t now be friends. Or more.

“What are we?” you whispered, feeling the cold nip at the unshed tears in your eyes.

Sirius stared into your beautiful eyes, sparkling as the midday sun shined upon them. “I’ve been trying to figure that out myself.” He admitted, taking a step closer to you when he realized he was still holding your hand.

You looked down at your hands, Sirius’ fitting perfectly with yours and you felt the warmth spread from his touch. “I have a question for you today.” You whispered as you met his eyes again. Sirius nodded, licking his lips in nerves. “How do you feel about me?”

Sirius didn’t say anything at first. He knew exactly how he felt, but saying it out loud was another thing. He cleared his throat, feeling you squeeze his hand as he squeezed back. “I’ve fallen in love with you.”

Both of your eyes widened at Sirius’ honesty. He thought you’d let go of his hand, maybe call him out for being crazy but you didn’t. Instead you smiled at him, a bright wide smile that had Sirius’ heart souring. You opened your mouth to speak but stopped yourself, unsure of what to say. “You’re serious?”

“In more than one way.” He joked and you rolled your eyes, well aware of Sirius’ jokes. He brought a hand up to your face, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “I’ve fallen in love with you, Y/N.” he repeated.

“Well, I have news for you, Sirius.” He smiled at you as grabbed his other hand, letting your fingers intertwine. “I’ve fallen for you as well.”

Sirius celebrated, letting go of your hands as he pumped his hands in the air as he remained on cloud nine. You laughed as you watched him, your smile stretching your face before Sirius stopped what he was doing and grabbed your hands fast, scaring you by his sudden moments. “I still have my question.” He beamed.

“Okay?”

Sirius’ eyes flickered down to your lips and you already knew what he wanted to ask. He slowly pulled you closer to him, your bodies pressed together until you could feel Sirius’ breath meeting yours and both of your eyes slowly closed. “Can I kiss you?” He whispered.

You didn’t answer. Instead, you closed the distance between your lips, feeling Sirius move his hand up to cup your cheek, his fingers threading loosely into your head as he deepened the kiss. You were breathless, drowning in the feeling of Sirius and you never wanted to come up for air.

All Taglists Closed!

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#lenas300challenge #Sirius Black x Reader #Sirius Black imagine #Sirius Black fanfiction #Sirius Black #Marauders x Readers #Marauders imagine #Marauders fanfiction #Marauders #Harry Potter x Reader #Harry Potter Imagine #Harry Potter

[jonkentt]

can’t spell handsome without Sam...

Ao3

Sam and Bucky are sitting at the end of the dock. Bucky’s absently swinging his legs over the water and looking at the horizon.

“So this cute guy gave me his number while I was at the cornerstore just now,” Sam says.

“Yeah? Captain America fanboy?” Bucky seems disinterested.

“If he was he didn’t say.” Bucky grunts noncommittally. “He seemed chill actually. Cute too.”

“You mentioned that already.”

“I think I’ll call him.”

“Really?”

Sam shrugs and keeps his tone light. “Yeah, I mean why not? Could be fun.”

“Sure.” Bucky deadpans. “Go for it.”

“You think so?”

Bucky turns to Sam then, incredulous. “No!” he snaps. As if Sam just said the stupidest thing imaginable. Sam bites back a laugh.

“Oh? I’m a grown man, I’m capable of choosing who I date.”

“We’re talking about dating now? Just some random groupie?” Bucky’s getting worked up now and Sam is enjoying himself immensely. “He could be a creep, Sam! A grown dumbass is what you are.”

“Is that so?”

“Yeah, it is.”

“Feels like you’re projecting here, Buck. You have some social insecurities you wanna talk about?”

Bucky scoffs. “I’m not the socially inept one here, Sam. So he just saw you over the snack aisle and handed you his number on a napkin? The guy could get to know you first.”

“That’s literally the point of sharing a phone number, Bucky. But I guess you wouldn’t know that since you can’t even reply to a text.”

“That is not what we’re talking about.”

“No, you were just saying I’m not fine enough to pick up guys over the snack aisle.”

“Don’t be absurd, I would never say that! You’re fine as hell and anyone that says otherwise is a fucking idiot because you literally can’t spell handsome without Sam.” Sam guffaws.

“Can’t spell—? Jesus, Bucky, your flirting is a disaster.”

“Well you’re such a jerk, you should be grateful you have me to flirt with!”

“I’m about ready to find someone else!”

“Good fucking luck! No one’s going to adore you more than I do!”

“Well ask me out yourself then!”

“I will!”

“Fine.”

“Fine!”

Bucky gets up and storms off. Sam gives him till the end of the dock but clearly that was putting too much faith in Bucky. He stomps at least another ten paces before freezing mid-step. Bucky slowly lowers his boot and a peel of laughter does escape Sam then. He tries to pull himself together as Bucky backtracks but his shoulders are still shaking with suppressed laughs when Bucky plops down beside him again. This time Bucky doesn’t leave room for personal space. Sam snorts.

“You made that up didn’t you. Wanna go on a date with me that bad, huh?”

“First of all, I absolutely did not make that up—“

“No one says ‘cornerstore,’ Sam, I don’t think those even exist anymore.”

“And second of all, you’re the one who wants to date me. You’ve been pining so much I feel bad for your sorry ass.” Bucky raises an eyebrow. “But now that we both know, you don’t have to be embarrassed about asking me out.”

“Golly, you’re a real hero, Sam.”

“I know it.”

Bucky swings his legs onto Sam’s lap and wraps his arms around Sam’s neck. He leans in real close and says in a husky voice, “So will you go on a date with me?” Sam holds his gaze, dragging out the silence, his eyes still sparkling with amusement.

“Nah.”

“I thought you felt bad for me?”

“Not that bad.”

Bucky narrows his eyes. Sam is unfazed by Bucky’s murder glare. He wraps his arms around Bucky’s waist and grins like a challenge. Then Bucky throws his weight off the edge of the dock and takes Sam with him.

Bucky is already cackling when Sam’s head breaks the surface, spitting out water. “You—!” Sam lunges for him but Bucky’s faster. He dodges and sends a wave of water into the side of Sam’s face. Bucky swims circles around Sam, throwing water at him from every direction. Sam gets a couple successful splashes at Bucky but ends up just trying to shield his face while laughing uncontrollably. “Man, stop—!” Another wave of water catches Sam in the mouth. He gags at the grimy taste on his tongue and hears Bucky tease him. Another splash. “Cut it out!”

Sam’s smiling so hard his cheeks hurt and finally Bucky relents. He swims closer and when Sam has finished scrubbing water out of his eyes, Bucky is right in front of him, grinning. Sam laughs as he wraps his legs around Bucky’s waist.

“Let me make you dinner.”

“Yeah, alright.” They’re both grinning goofily at each other and Sam runs his hand through Bucky’s wet hair.

“Don’t worry,” Bucky says seriously. “I won’t forget you’re only doing this out of pity.” Sam hums his agreement.

“Well, no one else could put up with you for so long.”

“Careful, Wilson. That almost sounded like you like me.”

Sam cups Bucky’s face and looks at him fondly. He watches a droplet of water slide down Bucky’s cheek and get caught in the crook of his smile.

“Maybe I do. Just a little.” Sam leans in and kisses Bucky tenderly. Bucky kisses him back.

#sambucky fic #back on my gay shit #sam wilson fic #bucky barnes fic #onlysambucky

[bjy-on-ao3]

Kinktober 2021, Day 4

(As usual, you can find the AO3 version of all my uploads [and some things I don’t post here to tumblr] via my Masterlist blog page.)

This is another one that probably could have been longer, and I’m not 100% sure if it fits the prompt as planned. I’m hoping it’s still likable though, all things considered!

Summary Sometimes things don’t go quite as planned. When Reader’s plans to spend the day with Barbatos are interrupted, they try to get their way, even if it means getting in the way of work.

Tags/Warnings Blindfolds, Bondage. Creampie, Gags, Kinktober, Kinktober 2021, Oneshot, Prompt, Reader-Insert, Shameless Smut, Vaginal Sex

Kinktober 2021, 04: Brat Taming (Reader x Barbatos | Obey Me!)

You had gone to visit Barbatos that day expecting to spend some quality time with him, having finally arranged a day when he wasn’t swamped tending to the needs of the prince and the castle. Shortly after arriving, abuzz with excitement to finally have some alone time with him, Barbatos had received news that an impromptu celebration was being held the next evening - meaning whatever spare time he left to him was suddenly gone.

The news had made you cross to hear, knowing that Barbatos would be required in the kitchens on such short notice, though you had tried to hide your discomfort. To your credit, you thought you had done an admirable job when all a part of you really wanted to do was protest how unfair the latest arrangement was. But Barbatos was dutiful to a fault, and directly fussing over things would do little good.

Instead, you took the opposite route, and offered your help, thinking perhaps additional hands involved in the chore might lend it to be completed more swiftly. Unfortunately, you had vastly underestimated just how much work needed to be, as well as how much patience you had for it. The first couple hours of work had gone on well enough, but it seemed to be unending. You found yourself tiring of the tedious tasks, internally groaning at the work left before you still. Briefly, you wondered if the assignment was actually some curse neither of you was quite aware of, but you quickly dismissed the absurd thought.

You paused in the middle of stirring a bowl of ingredients, glancing out of the corner of your eyes to Barbatos busily plowing through each new culinary task, little phasing him. He was the picture of efficiency and focus, and the kitchen air was heavy with the various smells of seasonings and sweet flavorings, and citrus courtesy of his efforts. You watched him work as inconspicuously as possible for a moment, a new idea slowly coming to you. An idea that was far more alluring, though one admittedly much less productive than the task at hand.

Turning your attention half-heartedly to the bowl in front of you, returning to stirring, you finished it and pushed it aside. You searched for a proper excuse for the scheme you were hatching, finding it in a multitude of bottles and jars of ingredients for some of the next things on Barbatos’ long list of to-make recipes. Resuming the guise of a hard-working assistant eager to assist with the prepping and cooking, you moved to gather more ingredients and dishes, brushing purposefully close to Barbatos as you went by. You leaned forward to gather a bottle or two, reaching around him and feigning a hint of clumsiness that led to stray touches.

Lights taps and pats on his shoulders and arms played off as helping you balance. Strokes on his waist or hip, daring to creep a little lower. All manner of touches that seemed innocent enough. But you knew, or rather hoped, that it might distract Barbatos and broach his focus,  and potentially lure him away from his chore. He remained just as unphased as before, though, hardly giving you a second look, save to courteously steady you or to make a polite quip to be a bit more careful.

After several unsuccessful attempts, you frowned at your lack of progress. Though you weren’t to be put off so easily and moved onto your next plan of action without lingering on the thought too long. You stood closer while you worked on your latest project, mashing an assortment of ingredients and fragrant herbs into a mortar beside Barbatos. Still grinding the contents, you subtly slipped your spare hand down, reaching more brazenly for Barbatos’ thigh. Your fingers brushed the cloth of his pants, creeping inward more slowly.

Barbatos cleared his throat pointed, his only acknowledgment of your attempt before he caught your hand by the wrist, pulling it gently away before you could properly feel him up as you had planned. You pouted again, further frustrated by his determination to ignore you. You still weren’t done yet, though. You tried the same thing, making the motion less obvious, more alike to an accidental slip. But even then, Barbatos dismissed your wandering hands, stopping only to speak for a moment, but not to address your meddling in the way you had hoped.

The look on his face was sterner than before, a hint of warning to stem your interruptions and focus. “Now isn’t the time. There’s far too much work to be done.”

You met his words and stern expression with a stare of your own, though one much more petulant. You silently huffed, fuming and pouting further, staring down into the muddled mass in the mortar. While you considered your options next, you went back to actively helping prepare batters and sauces, and icings. Barbatos moved away several times, pausing to place unbaked cakes and pastries into the large ovens or put assembled treats away to chill until the next day.

At some point, he returned to the counters with a platter of golden brown pastries assembled in an orderly pile. It was obviously one that had set for some time already, the tops of the stacks already topped with stiff peaks of colorful whipped frosting. As Barbatos turned away to resume work, a new scheme sprung into your head, prompted by the confections set out before you.

For much of the work before, Barbatos had only stopped to give you more than passing attention - or at least you had thought - to offer advice, or give you instructions. At last, though, he looked toward you, recognizing how you looked when you were truly onto some new plan. Barbatos had kept a careful amount of his attention dedicated to you, though you hadn’t yet realized.

He was good at feeling out when you had a mind to try and cause trouble or to grab his attention, whatever the situation. He had known as well that once you started, you weren’t going to give up easily, even if it meant acting rather childishly in your determination. He recognized the look on your face as you eyed the decorated pastries. When you glanced over, checking if he was paying you any mind, he knew you were about the act up again.

Sure enough, you set down your current tool, reaching your newly free hand in the direction of the pastries. The sharp, sudden mention of your name though made you flinch and halt with your arm outstretched.

“Haven’t you misbehaved enough for one evening?” Barbatos said evenly. The words had still startled you, even though you had been aware you had more of his attention than before.

Your nostrils flared, and you blew out an angry huff, recognizing the tone of Barbatos’ voice and debating your next move. Should you behave and drop it for the night? No, that wasn’t an option. You had to push your luck, challenge him. Your irritation demanded nothing less.

“Maybe I wouldn’t have to misbehave if you’d pay me more attention in the first place,” you snapped back in defiance. You turned back to the pastries from before, thrusting a finger toward the large pile of frosting on the pastries’ peaks arranged in an ornate pattern.

“I know you understand those for tomorrow,” Barbatos continued, his voice still even, but more warning, accompanied by another commanding call of your name.

“Well, maybe I don’t want to keep waiting,” you snapped, though it was quite clear it wasn’t sweet treats you were being impatient about.

You looked at Barbatos markedly, turning and dipping your finger into the frosting and scooping out a section, ruining part of the decoration. Looking back, you raised the coated finger to your lips. His gloved hand caught your wrist again, more firmly than before, and when his eyes locked with yours, his glare was piercing and cool. You suppressed a shudder but refused to break or back down.

“That’s enough,” he declared sternly.

What he did next was in stark contrast to the tone of his voice. He didn’t release your hand immediately, instead tipping your frosting coated finger toward him and sucking it into his mouth. His tongue rolled hotly over your digit, cleaning the sticky, cloyingly sweet icing from it. Your brows shot up, and another shiver threatened to creep down your spine while you swallowed hard. You had gotten the attention you had so petulantly been trying to achieve from Barbatos, but at the same time, it had shattered your resolve.

That attention was lingering, though, a taste to quiet and rattle you.

“I think it’s time you retired for the night,” Barbatos decided after pulling your finger from his mouth and letting your wrist free, foregoing any more contact with you and leaving you wanting, stirred up from that one action alone. Yet, there was something mischievous, almost dangerous in his tone, something that rang familiar. “You will wait up for me. When I am done, we will discuss this. Have I made myself clear?”

You nodded meekly, your streak of mischief shaken and relegated to the back of your mind. “Yes,” you answered quietly. Your mouth felt dry, and a tenseness grew in you, something halfway between anticipation and uncertainty.

“Excuse me?” Barbatos questioned expectantly.

“Yes, sir, perfectly clear,” you added, his words prompting you to remember your ‘manners’.

“Good.”

Barbatos turned back to the counters, leaving no room for further dispute. You saw yourself out of the kitchens, calming your thumping heart down as you went. You flagged down a Little D, requesting aid to return to the guest room you normally stayed in when you came to visit Barbatos or stayed in the castle for any other occasion. You gave your thanks upon reaching the room, closing the door behind you and flopping onto the bed with a frustrated sigh.

You tried to preoccupy yourself for a while thereafter, browsing apps and messages on your DDD, answering friends, and checking in on the demon brothers. It could all only keep your attention for so long, though, and eventually, you drifted off to sleep from boredom with the device at your side. ---

You weren’t sure how long you had slept when the soft click of the bedroom door awoke you. You glanced blearily to the door, just able to make out Barbatos’ silhouette against the darkness of the room. Though the outline of him was difficult to see, he was hard to miss in other ways. As he approached the bed, the ominous glow of his eyes, casting his face in a sickly green pallor, was the most noticeable feature.

You jolted up on the bed, recalling Barbatos’ instructions to wait up for him. But it was too late - Barbatos had already seen you sprawled out asleep on the bed, disobeying him once more. Passingly, you noted you hadn’t been the one to turn the lights off in the bedroom.

The bed sank with Barbatos’ weight when he reached the foot of it. He poised himself over you on his hands and knees, and you instinctively sank back against the sheets. As he leaned down, something cool, thick, and scaly curled purposefully around one of your thighs, teasing slowly further.

“Misbehaving again, already? You’ve been very insolent today. I’ll need to give you a much more thorough lesson this time, won’t I?”

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