#OH. THE ASK SAYS HARD BOILED. WHOOPS | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

mellowwillowy · 4 months

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𝐓𝐖𝐒𝐓 𝐒𝐞𝐥𝐟-𝐀𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐂𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐢𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬

Feat: Riddle, Leona, Azul, Kalim, Vil, Idia, Lilia Bonus: Floyd, Jade, Jamil, Rook, Epel, Malleus

Riddle Rosehearts

Riddle’s face was almost as red as his hair, not out of anger but rather…

[Oh my gooodddd, stomp those tiny feet again, Riddle! Give me that pout~]

Really… should he do it again? Out of nowhere? Well, let’s take a walk to where you clicked then…

[Yaahhh!! So cuteeee!!!]

Well at least you didn’t think him badly for being angry out of nowhere… whoops, he wasn’t supposed to idle like that.

Ahh, why are you moving on to another character? Cater? That good for nothing? The naughty ADeuce duo? He's almost turning from red to green in envy!

Leona Kingscholar

Leona was supposed to be ticked to the brim but definitely not with you. His ears are red from your nonstop rambling while you keep on poking his avatar right on his ear.

[I wonder how it feels like to play with his ears, ah, maybe I should help you clean it too?]

Don’t. Twitch. Ears. Else the player might notice this and question this one new idle.

[Thinking back, I kinda wanna try stepping on his tail like Yuu too~]

Don’t. Swish. Tail. What? Is he a masochist or what? Well, if it’s for you then he wouldn’t mind it.

Wait wait, why are you checking out Ruggie and Jack now? Hey, what do you mean Ruggie has cuter ears and Jack has a fluffier tail? Why do they look so proud? Are they asking to be minced?

Azul Ashengrotto

Azul might break out of the avatar restraint now. You’ve been talking about how you want to squeeze the kid him, round and plump, you quoted.

Why did you find his past appearance adorable?

[Honestly, I kinda want to lift him and his hiding spot and boil him as a takoyaki filling]

Now that made Floyd and Jade snickered. Azul was internally panicking but his avatar did not show him breaking a single sweat.

[Or maybe gather all his ink whenever he cries]

For your pen?

[But I do think squeezing his plump octomer form is the best~ Oh well, he had lost all those baby fats]

And back to how you ramble about his round self again. This was supposed to be disheartening but why was he blushing?

Wait wait, don't look away from him, no! Why are you going to Floyd? And Jade too? He knew Floyd won your heart but allow him to worm into your heart at the very least. Please let one of his three hearts rest in you!

Kalim Al-Asim

Kalim was nodding non-stop at your ramblings, or should he say, wishes. He was really happy that you were taking him as your magic lamp!

[And then, I want you to lace my body with lots of glitters, made of gold!]

No hard task, he just had to grind all that gold into some sort of fairy dust for you!

[Oh! And I want to try swimming in a pool of golden coins like Uncle Scrooge! I wonder if it'll hurt and uncomfortable as I think...]

He was in the same boat with you. You'd have to be careful when diving into the pool! But you can try sleeping on it though you should be careful, just in case the coins swallow you whole!

[And a carpet ride every night~]

Roger that! Tell him more of your wish, will you?

Eh? Why do you stop wishing? No! He will guarantee you that he will make it all come true! Please do not doubt him! Ah... it's because you two are in a different dimension? Screw this barrier that separates you two then.

Vil Schoenheit

Yes, he knew he was unworthy of your praises but he couldn't help but enjoy bathing in it!

[Look at your hair... and that make-up! Wow... truly is the fairest one of all!]

Oh please, no matter how much you compliment him, he could never compete with you beauty-wise! You would always be the true fairest one of all!

[Aha! Look at those heels too, contribute a lot to your height, and make you look so pretty!]

Even a prominent actor like him can't cover his natural reaction which was the growing blush on his face!

Eh? Rook? What does he have to do with him? Too in love with his words more than the beauty in front of you right now? No no no, you must look at him only and no one else!

Idia Shroud

If anything, he was glad his hair did not turn pink! From the way you kept on poking his avatar and patting his head, it made his heart tickled. He was no longer stuttering because the system wanted him to, but because he himself was nervous!

[Oh, show me that one illustration... Kyaaa! Why must you be so cute biting on your sleeve??? It's so inviting!!!]

Ah? That one? He couldn't help but feel embarrassed as you zoomed into his face and examined his hair. Truly, this was too much for his heart!

[Oh oh, and your masquerade costume is so pretty! It makes you look so pretty ffs!]

Ah, it was pretty uncomfortable to wear but he's glad he didn't take it off, not like he can do that anyway. The system won't allow that after all.

Everything feels nice so why are you changing character now? Wait wait! Have you checked his other card? No no no, why is that little shortie fae here? Don't close on him, please! He might want to try hacking your phone soon!

Lilia Vanrouge

Oya? You'd like to dress him up? Kukuku, looks like green and pink would work well on him~

[And... I think we can try curling his long hair, can we change the hue from red to pink like a color wheel?]

...Curling his hair didn't sound bad. Maybe he should try it sometimes and see if it suited him.

[Oh! And I'm gonna hang him upside down like the bat he is! My cute little bat, let's fist-fight!]

You really are an enigma huh? One moment is a sweet and docile lamb then the next moment you are a bull. Hm? Malleus? Why talk about him so sudden? Didn't you say he is your number-one favorite from Diasomnia? So why are you looking at someone else now?

𝐁𝐎𝐍𝐔𝐒:

Floyd Leech

God of Shrimpy~ Keep on poking him, he loves it! Ah, you love his teeth? And his droopy eyes? And his laugh? Hehe, you really love everything about him huh?

So why do you even bother looking at the others? He's going to hug you tight for this silly!

Jade Leech

Ah, he is quite the gentleman, no? Hm? You'd like to keep him as your butler? Why that is quite the generous idea that you allow him to manage your daily life~

With a small dose of love potion in your daily tea every day, he's bound to have you in his arms soon, well, if he ever finds a way to pull you into this twisted wonderland.

Jamil Viper

It truly is an honor to be considered as someone reliable (from babysitting Kalim) and acknowledged as an attendant who could shield you from any danger, truly. He is ready to put his life in line for you so why?

Why are you saying that there's someone else who might fit the position as your attendant more than him? And that person being that slimy eel no less!

Rook Hunt

Ah! This is amazing! To be able to charm you with his words and let him worm into your heart is truly a blessing! Would you like him to write you a poem detailing your beauty?

No no, mon chèri, you shouldn't grace those who are unbefitting of it, don't you think it's a waste to spare the other your grace? Allow this hunter to save you from that trouble.

Epel Felmier

H-huh? You want to dress him up? Naturally, he hates being treated as a doll, a girl no less! But... the idea of you helping him dress and helping him with makeup... he can do this. It is your way of gracing him after all...

Huh? You want to dress Lilia up too? Why? Because he's cuter? Oh no, there's no way there's someone who is prettier than him, look at him, look at how pretty he is in this dress!

Malleus Draconia

If anything, he will always hear you compare him and Riddle to the 'Queen of Heart' and 'Maleficient' from your world. You will praise him for being able to stand on the same level as the actress' beauty which makes him feel giddy.

But boy is he sulking when you start rambling about Riddle and the big-headed Queen. You will dote on him and Riddle back and forth.

Can't you just dote on him?

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helloporcelain · 6 months

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Apertado

Fandom: Baldur's Gate 3

Pairing: Gale/Astarion

Rating: Explicit (18+)

Tags: porn without plot, blowjob, frottage, docking, dom!astarion, sub!gale, fluff, established relationship

Summary:

“Where,” Astarion gasps like he’s dying, “did you learn to do this?”

“Wizard academy,” Gale answers, like it’s terribly obvious.

Read on AO3 if you prefer!

Being with Gale is — different.

It’s relatively new and bone-tender and sometimes, still, Astarion isn’t always sure what to expect. Sometimes, it’s warm and relaxed, like the gentle simmer of a teapot, and sometimes, it burns and boils and rushes through Astarion like the best kind of fever.

For once, though, he doesn’t mind rolling with the punches of it all, with the whims of his entirely-too-sincere lover.

They’re all at the Elfsong Tavern for a night of respite, laughing over dried herring and incredibly salty cheese-potato soup and goblets of spiced ale and elderflower wine. Astarion is pleasantly buzzed, content, listening intently as Wyll recalls a dramatic story from his monster-hunting days. Gale’s breath is sour-sweet and smells overwhelmingly like cranberries as he tilts his head at him with a curious, stupid smile.

“What?” Astarion asks him, returning a curious, stupid smile of his own.

“Ah – nothing,” Gale stifles a hiccup, ducking his head down to stuff another fig-jam biscuit into his mouth.

“Don’t nothing me, you lightweight.” He nudges Gale's shoulder and affectionately tilts his chin upward, using his thumb to brush away the last crumbs of the biscuit from Gale's upper lip. “You’re drunk.”

“I would not say that the term drunk is accurate in this case.” Gale sways closer against him, cheeks terribly flushed, eyebrows knit in contemplation as he considers the state he’s in. “Perhaps… perhaps I’m just a tad bit inebriated, is all.”

“Sure,” Astarion drawls, brushing a few grey strands of hair out of Gale’s face. “And I’m only a tad bit undead, is all.”

“If you really must know, Astarion, I was staring at you because you are beautiful.”

He bites back a cheeky grin, tongue poking at the inside of his mouth. “Oh? But that’s not anything new, darling,” he teases.

“No, it isn’t,” Gale admits, softly, far too genuinely. “Hand me parchment and a quill, and I'd pen a dozen sonnets effortlessly about you. But tonight – you’re particularly lovely. It's this smile you wear, when you’re at ease, when you feel safe, where your eyes are as soft as a feather and they get so unbelievably round, like a kitten.”

“A kitten?”

“A kitten with very sharp claws. But yes, a kitten.”

Astarion feels his cheeks growing pink and pinker, the color rushing up past his hairline, towards the tip of his pointy ears, as he leans in, murmuring against his cheek. “You love-sick fool.”

“Guilty as charged,” Gale whispers back, pressing a tender kiss on his nose.

“Get a room, you two!” Karlach whoops as she throws a strawberry towards their direction, landing on an empty plate in between their half-full chalices and piled up dirty napkins. Some of the others snicker, he hears an aww or two, and then someone makes a dirty joke and the entire table breaks out in raucous laughter.

“Completely ahead of you, my dear,” Astarion grins, tugging at Gale’s collar, rising up from the table.

—

They don’t take their time tonight; there’s no full-body massages or pillow-talk or even any kind of build up – Gale kisses him greedily, furiously, holding onto him for dear life as they stumble back into their room, legs kicking the door behind them shut with little disregard for its weak, creaky hinges. Astarion unwraps the belt around Gale’s waist and tosses it to the ground as Gale licks at his mouth like an untrained dog, wet and sloppy and unequivocally desperate.

Then he tugs his robe off, carelessly hurling it to the ground, crumpling into a magenta pile of heavy fabric at their feet. Gale attempts to tug Astarion’s tunic off but he can barely do that without nipping too hard at his lips or tripping over his backwards feet. Astarion pulls away from the kiss with an amused sniff and pushes Gale back onto the massive bed, deftly taking off his own shirt. He presses a knee against the mattress then tugs at Gale’s breeches and slides them off, palming a hand over the erection sitting underneath his briefs. Before he gets a chance to lean in or do anything else, Gale sits back up, hand reaching out to wrap around his thin wrist.

“Please,” he begs, slurring slightly. “Want to taste you.”

“My. What’s gotten into you tonight? Such a needy pup.”

He steps back from the bed and watches as Gale pushes himself off from the mattress, lowering himself to the ground and resting on his knees, hands sliding up to grab at the waistband of his black trousers, easing them off as they fall to his feet. He kicks them away and Gale doesn’t waste a second before he presses an open mouthed kiss against the damp, cotton fabric of his underwear. His tongue rolls out, wide and flat as he licks the outline of Astarion’s hard cock. “Don’t be a tease, darling.”

“‘m sorry,” Gale replies, voice muffled against his crotch. He tugs Astarion’s underwear down and his long, pretty cock springs out, standing at attention for his lover. Gale grips a saliva-slick hand around the base, sucks a kiss to the underside, then licks a long stripe along the veins that adorn his cock.

“Such a good boy,” Astarion breathes in adoration. “How did we manage to find each other among the shitshow we’re been cast in, hmm?”

Gale works his tongue all around his cock, slurping and hollowing his cheeks and expertly working his length far down into his throat like it’s an absolute walk in the park for him. He moans with pleasure around the mouthful of cock as Astarion holds his head down with some force and roughly fucks his face, settling into a rhythm for a few minutes that leaves Astarion breathing ragged and seeing a dozen stars under his eyelids.

“Mmm – can’t, Gale, I’ll –”

Gods, the wizard is just, senselessly good at sucking cock. Astarion thinks vaguely that he should send a nicely worded letter and a bouquet of roses to the man who taught him how to do it – it’s embarrassing, but Astarion needs him off or else the night will end far quicker than he intends. He threads a hand through Gale’s hair, pulling at the tail in the back, dragging him off his cock with a tattered gasp. “You know I adore how eager you are, but I have other things in mind for us.”

He guides Gale up from the ground and cups his face and kisses him on the lips, touching their foreheads together. “Lay down on your back, Gale.”

Astarion thinks he almost sees a tail wagging between his legs when Gale does exactly what he’s told, immediately, with a deliciously blank expression. He climbs up on the bed, straddling Gale’s thighs, bringing their cocks together. He licks his hand and slicks it over Gale’s stone-hard cock, saliva mingling with the precum bubbling on the tip. “Is it a sick thing,” Gale smiles then, all love-struck, “that all I can manage to think of is how lucky I am? Of how much I adore you?”

“My darling little wizard. I’m the lucky one,” he says, flicking a thumb over the wet slit, causing Gale’s thighs to tremble and hips to buck. With his free hand he slides a hand up his round belly, squeezing the bit of fat there with a hungry glaze to his eyes. “You’re so pretty when you come undone because of me.”

Then he takes hold of both lengths in one hand, stroking long and slow, watching as Gale huffs and pants underneath him. He does this gently but firmly, ensuring that the tip of their cocks rub together at the end of each push. Their cocks are pulling apart after a minute or so, long strands of precum connecting and almost breaking when Astarion realizes Gale is staring at him again, the same inquisitive dopey-eyed expression plastered on his face that he had earlier during dinner.

“What is it?” Astarion asks him again, not slowing down the twist of his wrist, though there’s a hint of concern to his voice.

“I just, ah –” Gale averts his blushing gaze, then to the left side, to the right side, then flitting his half-lidded eyes back up at Astarion. “I want to try something with you, if you’ll let me. Something a little unconventional.”

“I knew you had something on your mind. What do you want to try, puppy?”

“I… can’t explain it, I’m afraid it won’t sound very arousing if I tell you the technicalities of it,” Gale tells him.

“Okay, well, you’re not exactly selling it – whatever it is – to me by saying that.”

“Do you trust me, Astarion?”

“Are you an idiot, Gale?” Astarion’s voice is zero bite and all tenderness. “Of course I do.”

“Alright. Good. Then – can you kindly get off me for just one second?” Astarion takes his hand away from their touching cocks and does as Gale says, watching him curiously as he starts to rearrange the pillows around him, piling some behind, some under his knees for a lift. “Okay, sit on me again, please.”

Astarion gets back to sitting on his thighs, straddling his legs, just a little above his knees. He can see Gale thinking – debating, anxious – on his next move and he takes Gale’s face with his hands and kisses him comfortingly. “Don’t be nervous, pet. I trust you.”

Gale nods wordlessly, looking up at him with glassy, twinkling eyes, then presses the dewy tip of his cock back against Astarion’s in a ticklish kiss, rubbing slit against slit in a dizzying swirl around his pink, leaking glans.

“So wet,” Gale mumbles. “Not sure if it can work if it’s this wet.”

Then, carefully, he slides his hand and stretches the foreskin of his length forward over the top of Astarion’s cock.

It pushes over with no resistance, sliding around the head, encircling Astarion’s length whole, wrapping him like some kind of impossible blanket. He presses a thumb over his foreskin and holds it firmly in place. “Fuck,” Astarion hisses. He closes his eyes, overwhelmed by the sensation, feeling the tender pressure of the other man’s fingertips just on the other side of the soft skin, feeling the forehead skin stroking all around him. Gale bites his lip and fails to suppress a shudder, which makes Astarion hiss again: “Fuck.”

Gale’s normally caramel-brown eyes are all giant dilated saucers when he looks up at him with a touch of worry. “Is it,“ he hesitates, hands lingering over their swaddled cocks, “okay?”

“It’s – Gale– “

Intense, Astarion wants to say, but it’s suddenly, absolutely, way too difficult to speak coherently.

“Do you wish for me to stop? Does it hurt?”

“No, no, don’t,” he manages to choke out.

Gale keeps his touch gentle as he curls his hand around both of their cocks, conjoined like a finger trap toy, twisting and squeezing as Astarion tries his damndest to stay completely still, to let Gale take the lead on this fascinating new kink he’s completely unleashed on him. But then he looks down again and involuntarily jerks when he sees his outline against the thin, delicate skin; the hard, bulbous head stretched under the long, delicious veins of Gale’s cock.

He doesn’t think he’s seen anything like it: the sight of their two cocks melting into each other, peach and olive mixing into one. And when Gale starts to milk the foreskin around his fingers and squeeze the globs of precum out from under, slicking it all over their cocks, Astarion nearly comes.

Nearly. He’s not some amateur.

It’s just — it’s just so –

Absurd.

Ridiculous.

Absurdly, ridiculously, fucking erotic.

“Where,” Astarion gasps like he’s dying, “did you learn to do this?”

“Wizard academy,” Gale answers, like it’s terribly obvious. “How does it feel?”

He goes back to the insane rubbing, swirling motion, rotating his own cock around Astarion’s, rolling around and overlapping around him, over and over and over, with a tight grip on the very top of the skin to keep them locked together. It feels like an impossible feedback loop; Gale around him and him in Gale, slick against slick, fucking and rutting and rubbing in and against and everywhere, the heat coiling down into the core of his balls. It feels —

“So good,” he says ineloquently, humping into the burrow of Gale’s foreskin. “So fucking good.”

He can barely acknowledge the brilliant, goofy-dumb smile on Gale’s blissed out face. “It’s, you, Astarion, you’re perfect — ah, you’re divine —“

Astarion’s never felt anything like this before – not ever, not fucking once – and he can’t keep from moaning, quickly forming drool leaking out from his slack-jawed mouth as Gale grabs the base of his length and starts — holy shit — jerking him off into his own cock. He speeds up the pace of his stroking at the lewd sounds of Astarion’s encouragement, belly rising and falling, huffing as he goes cross-eyed and beet-red with arousal.

“It’s like I’m wearing your cock, Gale,” Astarion groans, in awe, in wonder, in bewilderment. It’s absolutely beyond him – it’s out of his hands, quite literally – at this point to stop himself from snapping his hips and pushing deeper around Gale’s stretched out foreskin.

“You – you dirty pup,” Astarion taunts, hoarse, somewhat gobsmacked. “Were you thinking about this all night?”

“Yes, yes, I was,” Gale answers with a whine, “Yes. Fuck me, please, fuck my cock, Astarion– ah, hnn–”

“Gale,” he grunts pathetically in response, fucking wild, erratic thrusts against the tunnel of stretched out skin enveloping him. It feels so tight and so hot and so perfectly made for him all at once, he could live like this, wear Gale like a cozy jacket, never take him off — if it were at all physically possible, he’d walk around like this with his cock warmed all day from Gale’s snug cockskin —

“Astarion, Astarion,” Gale babbles, breaking his lust-drunk train of thoughts, nearly incoherent except for the repeating litany of his name tumbling out desperately.

“My love,” he coos, pinching at the uppermost skin to try and help Gale to desperately get it to stay in place as he thrusts far too quickly and clumsily and roughly all around and against the mage’s cock. “My tight little cocksleeve.”

Gale keens and bucks his hips, then, too, and Astarion digs some fingers around Gale’s hairy, plush thighs and he nearly draws blood as they both come. He can feel it so intensely: the pulsating, the pounding of the blood rushing, the heat of the thick cum pooling around their cocks. It happens so fast he could sob - Gale's foreskin retracts so quickly and pushes him out, and then they’re just ultra-sensitive tip to tip, bobbing away from each other with cum-strands as the last evidence of their connection.

Gale pulls him in for a kiss and he loses himself in it for a while, rutting against the fleshiness of Gale’s body, still half hard and aching raw, until he hears Gale whine from overstimulation. He pulls away with a breathless chuckle, dizzy, trying to make sure he doesn’t touch his lover’s cock.

“Such a mess,” Astarion says, reaching down between them to scoop through the shared cum sliding down Gale’s groin. “Let’s clean up. Open.” He pushes two fingers into Gale’s cherry-bruised lips, eyes curved happily like little moons as Gale licks and sucks around them. “Good puppy.”

When it feels like his hand is cleaned thoroughly, he goes and takes another scoop, then another, and another, until Gale has completely taken in every last drop of cum down his throat.

A few minutes later, Astarion’s legs are draped across Gale’s paunchy stomach, eyes closed, somewhat still sticky and quietly recovering from their newest bedroom adventure.

“Well,” Astarion finally says after he thinks he’s gained back enough of his brain cells. “It is not often that I am surprised sexually, but that was, truly, mind blowing, my dear.”

“Mmm. It’s been a long time since I’ve done that, admittedly, so, I am quite relieved that it turned out alright. Better than all right, rather. I would be too intimidated and not courageous enough to suggest this – ehm – particular activity if I hadn’t had a little liquid courage to bolster me…”

Astarion laughs — no, giggles, like he’s some smooth-cheeked school boy — and kisses Gale’s forehead, then trails more kisses down his cheek, across his jaw, landing at the crook of his neck, taking in the smell of sweat and cum and remnants of the honey-lavender soap he bought from a pushy street vendor a few nights ago.

Being with Gale is different. This, Astarion is sure of.

Which is to say: it’s most certainly, undeniably, irrevocably, a complete joy.

“Alright then; go on, tell me. What the fuck else did you learn at that school?”

#baldur's gate 3 #porcelainfic #bloodweave #galestarion #gale/astarion #astarion x gale #bloodweave fic #astarion #gale of waterdeep

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powderblueblood · 2 months

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how would they handle a pregnancy scare?

TW pregnancy scare i guess WHOOPS it’s ANGSTY in here lmao

HAHA. well!

“did this take this long the first time we did it?”

oh, you mean the first time they did it when lacy bought nancy wheeler’s pregnancy test and they had to wait around in the freezing broken boys bathroom in the middle of midwinter to see if harrington had sired something?

“no,” lacy says, extracting her little finger from her mouth where she’s chewed it to mince, “time has slowed down to a glacial pace in order to punish me for my sins.”

eddie, sitting in the bathtub, attempts a grin. he’s not feeling too spiffy either. “getting locked out of wed?”

“coming off the fucking pill.”

how late is she? late enough to mention, late enough to worry. see, lacy’d been on the pill since they began this little world-axis-shifting dalliance of theirs so she and eddie had enjoyed the luxury of bareback, so to speak. she had put a lot of faith in that thing, but it so happened that she started getting these splitting migraines and low, low, low moods so her campus doctor had suggested that she come off the pill for a little bit. see if that changed anything. hormone imbalance and all that.

problem was, it was kind of hard to remember that she had come off it. those first couple of times, it was kind of an event, lacy making sliding that condom onto eddie almost ritualistic in a way that had him near to busting. but a time or two after that, it kinda… slipped their mind.

it happens. right? or is she stupid all of a sudden?

eddie’s a good boyfriend. drove her right to the drugstore, walked her right up to the counter so at least if the clerk gave her a dirty look, he was giving it to both of them.

but there’s just… something…

“you haven’t… changed your mind or anything?”

the last time they did this, eddie had asked her if she wanted kids. they hadn’t gotten together yet, but the tension between them was like a pot boiling over. spitting everywhere.

“i fully reserve the right to change my answer given the fact that we are eight-shitting-teen years old.”

but now she is twenty. her twenty first birthday looming, in fact.

eddie, doe eyed, watches lacy like he knows she’s got a knot in her chest, because she does. he watches her hands curl over her face, shoulders tense.

“not even…”

because a good girlfriend would say yes, right? a good girlfriend would be like, yes, of course, because i worship the ground you walk on, because i should drop all notions of my life without a second thought at the mere suggestion of a kid with you, because it would make you so happy. and i love you, so much. all i want is to make you happy. i’d eat the sun if that meant anything to you.

that’s what a good girlfriend would do, right? that’s how she would act. overjoyed. dreamy eyed. we’ll make it work, baby, you and me.

and there’ll always be the notion that we shackled each other to this town we purport to hate. and i’ll watch you avoid becoming your father and you’ll watch me become mine. and a little bit of my mother, too. and wayne will still hate me, even moreso for trapping you here. and in between, there’ll be this baby who didn’t ask for any of this at all.

“you can’t hate me for this,” lacy chokes. “i’m begging you.”

i was raised in resentment and i would never risk doing that to another child.

eddie feels sick. he hauls out of the bathtub to wrap his arms around her but his heart is hammering in his ears.

of course he wants this. and when he pictures a kid that theoretically has his eyes and her nose, he gets scared when he can’t really see her in those visions. others, sure. they’re clear as day. eddie knows what their wedding bands will look like, and what she’ll look like brushing her hand through her hair when she’s wearing it.

but he doesn’t see lacy glowing and barefoot, even though he’s tried.

“i don’t… lace…”

elizabeth munson was twenty when she had eddie. al was a little older. she’d snapped her life in half to uproot from memphis to hawkins, only to die six years after.

eddie really tries to make it not feel like a crusade to better his father’s wrongs, when he imagines it. you know?

“because i love you so much, i love you so much that i couldn’t take it,” lacy’s voice cracks in time with his heart, “if you hated me for this.”

a horrible thought flashes through eddie’s mind. would you do it if it meant i would never hate you?

“i love you,” is all he says into her hair, “i really, really love you.”

they stand on the cold tile of the bathroom for a long time. two people very much in love, and seemingly at odds.

eddie peers over lacy’s head at the watch on the counter.

“alright, sweetheart.” feels impersonal. he never calls her that. that’s for the outside world.

lacy picks up the stark white strip from the test tube, and her voice shakes.

“well. a lot of drama over… nothing. i’m sorry.”

eddie watches her shrink into herself, and would easily sock himself in the jaw if he thought it would do any good.

“hey!” his dazzling smile comes into her view, and she nearly buys it for a second. “forget about it, okay? who needs some fucking loser baby, right?”

but what eddie means, in that present moment, at twenty years old, is until next time.

and what lacy knows, in that present moment, at twenty years old, is there won’t be one.

#powder room talk #anonymous #edlacy #hai brainrot #e. munson by powder #l. doevski by powder #published by powder

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hell-raven · 8 months

Text

absurdly long tangent/analysis

EDIT FROM THE FUTURE: this isn't to dissuade anyone from interpreting the canon as they want i just wanted to share my personal opinions based on the preexisting canon that may or may not be very passionate, please just have fun do whatever you want none of this is fact

i really hate how utsuho is flanderized to death and constantly boiled down to "the dumb bird girl" because if you actually sit down and Read her dialogue instead of relying on secondhand information you learn quite a few things about her (when i say this is absurdly long i mean it so keep reading at your own risk)

extrapolating from her own dialogue:

she actually wanted to blow everything up in th11 for real and it wasnt just a "hehe whoops" kind of thing. she was bestowed an extremely powerful ability and deliberately wanted to use it to cause destruction/take over gensokyo

she is extremely knowledgeable about her ability and job (anything related to nuclear power and regulating the flames of blazing hell, or just things about former hell itself)

she takes her job very seriously and supposedly does it very well

but there are a few things that get people: she has poor memory, other characters refer to her as "birdbrained" or "empty-headed, and there are a select few instances of dialogue from hisouten/gouyoku ibun that catch peoples attention. its one of those things where because other characters (and people) say shes stupid, it influences everyone else! in my opinion, i think her own actions straight from the source are much more indicative of who she is rather than the quick judgements of other characters.

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

the first major point before i get into the specific dialogue in the fighting games: "kanako needed an empty-headed hell raven, and utsuho fit the bill"

what exactly is meant by "empty-headed"? this is going to be more of an abstraction, so definitely take it with a grain of salt. we dont know much about utsuho before she gained her powers, just that she worked as a lowly hell raven that helped around the palace of the earth spirits/hell. to me, it sounds like an incredibly mind-numbing job that really doesnt require much thinking to begin with, so of course you wouldn't expect some kind of supergenius from it. im also going to go out on a limb and say that utsuho was a candidate for kanako's plan because she's also considered a pet. many unfortunately conclude that pets can't be intelligent, and even the title of "pet" carries the connotation of inferiority. even if she was truly empty-headed as previously suggested, this doesn't mean that she stayed as such with no change at all. when i first played th11, i would have never guessed that she would be "the stupid one".

small note: ZUN's comment on her theme ("even a fool that possesses great power can't cause too much harm")

the problem i have with this is that she really would have caused a lot of harm if the protagonists hadn't stopped her. you could say shes a fool for letting the power get to her head, but objectively i cant exactly point to anything in th11's dialogue/scenarios that suggests she's foolish unless you really want to count bad memory-retention as such. not gonna argue this too hard, but it seems like "fool" is a word thrown around very freely with little thought to how you can actually apply it to a situation.

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

IN HISOUTEN: sanae beats her up and afterwards says "youre trying to help me, actually" to which utsuho is like "Oh Ok". you could argue this is probably her dumbest moment, but would you really not follow or listen to the person who defeated you in battle? its not the most defensible point, but she didnt even seem completely oblivious either when she was asking sanae about the incident. my personal interpretation is that she has a bit of a short temper related to how important her job is. there are plenty of other 2hus who are generally sillier than this, it doesnt make much sense why utsuho is the only one who gets this treatment.

IN GOUYOKU IBUN: utsuho doesnt notice reimu before she starts blasting her to bits, which to be fair reimu wears all red in Hell (her fault honestly) + correct me if im wrong but is the power of nuclear fusion not extremely blinding? supporting this, in the events of GI its also implied that shes being overworked due to the oil incident, and we already established that she takes her job very seriously, so to me it makes sense that her first thought is to "remove the contaminant" and to use a lot of her energy in the process. a lot of people in general sometimes get wrapped up in their own work to the point of hyperfocusing, i say the bird can do it too

i also havent brought up the fact that we dont exactly know wtf eating a god does to your brain, whos to say it didnt fuck with you a little bit?

past all of this though i still think utsuho is funny as hell with her particularly bold and uncaring personality, its just that people seem to think that a couple of goofy moments make up her whole character and its just mildly annoying to me.. subterranean animism will probably be my favorite portrayal of utsuho because of how seriously they all treat her (mostly) but overall i wish more touhou fans would actually indulge in the source material and think a bit deeper about this neat little piece of fiction that i am WAY too passionate about (also its just way more fun to look at characters from a complex perspective)

#raven.txt #touhou #long post sorry #i realize how funny this looks from tumblr user Hell Raven i promise im not mad i just have many thoughts

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curuxavermella · 7 months

Text

Lesson 26! No breaks for us because another brother is in trouble.

(couldn't get to it sooner, life was a bit hectic and i got burnout so i needed to rest whoops)

We have two videocalls this time around, too!

Lesson 25 here!

Last time they left us with no hints whatsoever about who would be next, but don't worry because we're not getting any breaks.

The lesson begins with Lucifer giving the brothers yet another class, this time about curses. He's really good at it, to the point Asmo calls Satan out on his silent admiration for Lucifer. They also point out that when Satan failed to do the curse as Lucifer did, he didn't "flip out" as he would've done in the past.

Lucifer has been studying hard on his own so he could teach the brothers, and well, Satan finds that rather admirable. But we know Satan and how we're not gonna get those words out of him willingly.

Nothing out of the ordinary is happening so far. The next scene is the brothers having ice cream as they return home, and then the convo turns into how the rest of the brothers, after Mammon and Asmo, will probably go through the same thing that they did.

Then, they show interest for all the Little Ds, especially Satan's. As if on cue, Diavolo appears out of nowhere and offers the group to take them to the castle to meet Satan's Little D.

Apparently, the poor thing had been confined due to its outbursts of violence until recently. Considering the Little Ds are the demons' counterparts, they all agree the timing matches with Satan calming down as well. Little D. Nº4 is under a pile of books, and it looks like it's asleep (or dead, according to some of the brothers lol), but Barbatos simply confirms it's reading a book in peace.

They tease Satan a little bit though, and he leaves embarrassed.

At this point we can tell the next brother going through an endeavour is going to be Satan, probably.

We decide to go home too, to find-

Is Solomon cooking-

Son of a bitch you're banned from the kitchen for a REASON

After finding the kitchen on fire and seeing the usual Solomon gag where he doesn't seem to realize he's a cooking hazard and can't even boil water (he was trying a recipe from Barbatos, though, now we know they made up!), the conversation turns towards again a very serious topic: his magic is becoming weaker, and he suspects it's because you two are "not supposed to occupy this place in space-time."

And the options we get here are very interesting.

I mean, I'm sure if he returns without us the brothers will have his head. And arms, And legs, too.

Here I tried both options: if you ask him about his magic, he says his source of magic is infinite, so he really won't ever run out of it, it's just that it grows weaker.

If you tell Solomon to return on his own first, you gain points with him, and he says that there's no way he's leaving you back here alone. He'll stay and wait with you until you're able to return with him.

The scene ends with Solomon wondering how would your two little spirit counterparts look like.

The next scene is in class again with the brothers, except this time the one giving the class is Mephistopheles (oh boy). He's asking about the first Fairy Monarch (FAIRIES AGAINNNN SOLMARE I'M WATCHING YOU), and he tricks Satan into giving the wrong answer.

He gloats about it too, and Satan has had enough: he curses Mephisto's book with the curse Lucifer showed them the previous lesson, turning the book into a spider that gives poor Mephisto a hard time.

And of course, with his impeccable timing, Lucifer appears just in the nick of time.

rip

After the lesson is done (and probably after a thorough scolding), Lucifer calls out to you, asking you to check up on Satan. Apparently he's worried because Satan looked as if he was sulking when Lucifer was done with his scolding.

He phrases as "see what he has to say" but this is the Avatar of Pride talking. He's gonna hide he's worrying about Satan because they're both such stubborn mules. Anyways.

We do as told because we're the assistants and also they're our beloved found family, so we can't leave them be to sulk on their own. We find Satan in the library at the Demon's Lord Castle, where we saw Little D. Nº4. The little demon is still reading, and Satan is engrossed in his own stuff as well.

Well, guess we found the driving force that made Satan become extremely good at curses in our time.

We can stay with him and read, or leave. In any case, the scene ends.

And now THE CRISIS.

The next morning we arrive at the House of Lamentation to find everyone running around in a panic, looking for someone.

And that someone is Satan, who apparently didn't come home the night prior. We know we left him in the library, so we take the brothers there to check on him.

But he's not waking up. They suspect he's caught on the same mess both Asmo and Mammon went through, and well... Satan does have his Wrath a bit under control, or at least he's trying really hard with it, so I'm doing my best to understand the lack of build up here, or at least a build up just like the others. Then again we're not done, so maybe the stuff that hits hard will be inside his mind. And we've already seen the brothers dissuade Satan from thinking that he's not a part of them.

I offered to save Satan (and got points with him too!) but this time around every single one of the brothers say they want to come with us. I found it a nice gesture, especially if they want to solidify even more that Satan is part of the family even if he was not born an angel.

So you all go in... and it's a literal storm.

Satan's mind is a mess, it seems, and the lesson ends right there as you all venture inside his mind.

The extra lesson takes place when you're all going to the Demon Lord's Castle to meet Little D. Nº4, as Diavolo wants to stop a moment to buy an ice cream just like the rest of the brothers were doing before he appeared. However the ice cream can have magic effects, and he takes one that makes whoever eats it to confess stuff. He just starts blurting at Barbatos every time he snuck food from him and when he last slacked.

Belphie got the same ice cream too.

Lucifer wonders if he should give all the brothers the ice cream to see what happens and Mammon panics. That's it, just a silly moment with them and Diavolo lol.

The scene we get after doing the hard mode is Solomon locking eyes with Mephisto and approaching him as if they were pokémon trainers lmfao.

Sol dares Mephisto to come over if he's not scared of him, and Mephisto, being Mephisto, takes it as a challenge. Oh boy.

But here is where we see Solomon at his best manipulative self.

Look at him, knowing where to pull to bring Mephisto to his side. It's obvious he wants to make a pact with Mephisto, but the demon has eaten the piece of cake Solomon has made... so he just passes out. So no pact for Solomon today.

Now, the two videocalls:

One is between Mammon, Levi, Asmo and Belphie, where they wonder about what kind of Little D. would you have, and how would it act. It was really cute. They all ended up thinking it'd look like a sheep.

That's an adorable thought actually lol.

The second videocall is between Lucifer, Diavolo and Barbatos, and it's also about Little Ds. Lucifer is curious to know if Diavolo or Barbatos have one as well, but Diavolo says he doesn't. Barbatos, however, remains elusive, and it sparks Diavolo's interest, who believes Barbatos is avoiding answering the question because he has one.

Lucifer catches up to Barbatos, though lol. Barbatos does say that he's been found out, so it's safe to assume he doesn't have any spirit counterparts. Besides, Barbatos is kind of an special demon who wasn't even born, he just poofed into existence, according to him, so that would complicate things a bit, because Little Ds are born at the same time as a demon. Unless it also poofed out of nowhere, which could also be. But here he's just probably teasing Diavolo.

I wasn't expecting Satan to be the next one on the list, but I was curious to see how it would go down when it came his time in this mess. I can't say it's slow or that action is missing, because we haven't seen the inside of his mind yet. There's no build-up, but maybe we'll get the action on the next lesson inside Satan's mind.

It's nice that all the brothers are in, though. Satan's going to need it if his mind is such a mess.

Well, that was enough. Can't wait for lesson 27, Satan's one of my favourites and his dynamic with Lucifer is just so good (to me, personally) and I love when they interact aaaaa

#Anne plays Obey Me! Nightbringer #nightbringer spoilers #obey me!#obey me! nightbringer #now if you'll excuse me i'm going to pass out probably

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schrijverr · 5 months

Text

Growing Pains [Barbara's POV] 2

Chapter 2 out of 6

Barbara doesn't know who Robin is under the mask, Dick does. This causes some strange interactions as their friendship develops.

In this chapter, Barbara first runs into Robin while on patrol. Introductions don't go as planned, because what do you mean Batman has a sidekick after actively trying to get rid of her?

On AO3.

Ships: none

Warnings: none

~~~~

Chapter 2: Another Sidekick!

Barbara is so excited as she runs across the roofs with her cowl firmly in place. It hasn’t been that long since the last time she was out fighting, but she missed it and it’s exhilarating to be back once more.

So, she lets out a little whoop as she swings down into a fight between Batman with Killer Croc and a few of his goons as they’re trying to rob a bank.

Batman himself is fighting Killer Croc, so she decides to make herself useful by putting the goons out of commission to prevent anyone getting in a lucky shot at Batman. Despite his mythos, he is but a man and Barbara knows he’s not invulnerable, even if he sometimes seems like it.

The goons Killer Croc hires aren’t the worst goons, in fact, they’re a few of the better ones. So, it isn’t a one and done fight for Barbara as she tries to punch their lights out. However, she can’t bring herself to mind the exercise, it’s good to feel like she’s helping again.

That feeling is ruined about a minute later, when a brightly clothed boy drops in the middle of her fight and starts fighting the goons too.

At first, Barbara is confused, because she hasn’t seen the kid before and, usually when she hasn’t seen a spandex wearing figure before, they’re there to fight her, not with her. So, she’s a little taken aback when he doesn’t aim for her, but the goon coming up behind her.

There isn’t much time for talking, so she turns back to the fight as she asks: “Who the hell are you?”

“I’m Robin,” the boy – Robin – answers, flipping over a goon and kicking him in the back of the head, a move Barbara totally isn’t jealous of.

“Robin?” Barbara repeats, doing a back flip to get out of the way of an attack. “And what does that mean?”

“Oh, I’m Batman’s sidekick, I’m new in town. Nice to meet you, Bat-copycat,” Robin says, giving her big grin that has her blood boiling. How dare he! She was here first.

“Copycat?” Barbara shrieks, decking a goon in the face as hard as she can, aggression fueling her and causing the goon to collapse. “I’m Batgirl and I’ve been Batman’s sidekick for a year.”

“Batgirl?” Robin asks, cocking his head, as he dances out of the way of the final goon. “Sorry, haven’t heard of you. And B, didn’t mention you either.”

He sounds so casual as he talks, like he isn’t being incredibly rude. Barbara wants to wring his neck just a little. God, he’s so cocky. He’s new on the scene, he hasn’t got a clue how Batman works yet, but he’s over there minimizing her effort and calling Batman B? The gall.

“I’m smart enough not to be in the press,” she huffs, jumping on the last goon’s back, before Robin can take her out and choking her. “And it’s not like Batman is the talkative type.”

“That’s fair, I guess. But I found B can be quite chatty,” Robin shrugs, giving her an impish look, like he knows something she doesn’t. It makes her skin crawl.

“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” she glares, crossing her arms.

Standing in the middle of the unconscious goons, it’s easier to size this newcomer up than when they were fighting. So, she takes a second to assess him, making mental notes.

Robin is a little shorter than her and looks to be about her age. He has black hair and a slightly tan skin. The color of his eyes is hidden by a domino mask, while the rest of him is clad in a too colorful attire for the city. He looks like a traffic light.

However, despite his ridiculous outfit, he looks assured of himself, holding himself like he’s used to being scrutinized. And Barbara can’t deny he has some skill to back that cockiness up. No matter how much she doesn’t want to admit it, he did help take down those goons.

Right now he crosses his arms back at her and juts his hip out. His eyebrows semi-disappear due to the mask, but she can tell he’s raising one. He smirks: “I don’t know, I think I’ve been brought up to speed.”

Barbara wants to make him eat his fucking words, the smug little shit. However, before she can, a shadow looms over both of them, making her turn around. She smiles: “Oh, hi, Batman. Get Killer Croc okay?”

She pokes her head around Batman to see Killer Croc indeed bound and prone on the ground. A part of her feels a little bad for getting caught up talking to Robin that she forgot to have her partner’s back, but another part of her knows that she would have caught it if Batman needed her and taking out the goons definitely made his life easier.

Batman grunts affirmatively to her question, a type of response she is used to by now.

Then she is unfortunately reminded of Robin’s presence, because he skips forward to inspect the unconscious Killer Croc. He stands next to Batman as he exclaims: “Holy crocodile, that sure is one big lizard. Nice going, B! I’m assuming the cops are on their way here already?”

“Yes,” Batman replies and Barbara can’t help but develop a small tick in her brow, because why does this kid get a whole world as a reply?

“So you actually do know this kid?” she asks, jutting a thumb out to Robin. “He didn’t just make that up?”

“Hey!” Robin pouts.

If Barbara squints, she’s almost willing to claim that the Batman is amused by that as he replies: “No, he didn’t. This is Robin.”

“Told ya,” Robin quips smugly.

“Another sidekick!” Barbara can’t help but exclaim. “You barely wanted me as a sidekick, where did you even find this kid?”

“Kid?” Robin repeats indignantly.

Meanwhile, Batman just gives her a Look. She hates it when he does that. Then he says: “He just showed up. Like you.”

Barbara scowls a little at that, not like she can argue about that when he just did the same thing she did. What she can do, however, is say: “Who’s the copycat now, bird brain.”

“Hey, I didn’t even know you existed, so that’s not copying,” Robin argues.

“It totally is,” Barbara shoots back.

“Is not.”

“Is too.”

Batman sighs before Robin can say anything back again and both of them click their mouths closed. He then says: “Sirens.”

Indeed when they cock their heads, they can hear the sirens coming. Her dad knows about Batgirl, but she tries to stay out of the way, just in case he recognizes her. So, she swings her homemade Batarang to swing up into the shadows of the bank.

Robin pulls out a grapple gun and follows after her, which makes her seethe. She doesn’t want to associate with this colorful little shit, who apparently does get nice equipment. The dick.

“Why are you hiding from the Commissioner?” he asks her curiously as he perches next to her on one of the beams.

“I’m not hiding, I try to keep a low profile,” Barbara huffs. “You know, keeping up the brand instead of standing out like a sore thumb with a stupid traffic light costume.”

For a second, Robin seems seriously hurt, but that’s gone in a second and replaced with anger. An anger that tugs at something in Barbara’s brain. Robin snaps: “My costume is perfectly good, Miss Copycat. I can hide in my cape and it just sends a different message. Not everything has to be gloomy and dark, never heard of having a bit of fun? Huh? Of smiling, even if it all sucks.”

“Tsk, fucking typical,” he says, swinging back down and leaving a stunned Barbara behind.

She isn’t sure what to think of the new sidekick’s outburst as she watches Robin dance around Batman, poking out on different sides as the superhero talks to her dad.

The outburst seemed genuine, though she doesn’t know why he was so mad all of a sudden, if anyone has a right to be angry, it’s her. He just showed up, all arrogant and took the place she worked hard for. Who does he think he is? Insulting her and then getting mad?

Barbara isn’t mad at his message, she just doesn’t think it’s a very suitable costume. There’s a reason they’re dressed like this. The black makes them hard to spot and the bat get up is to strike fear. Having a little bird name and bright colors and making yourself visible isn’t a very smart move, especially not if you’re going to poke around with all the officers clearing the scene.

He just wants attention, he doesn’t do this, because Gotham can be better and there are regular people getting hurt and getting pulled into nonsense, just because they’re trying to better this place.

A lump appears in her throat as it always does when she thinks of Pamela. She might have been a friend hopper back then, just going along with what others found fun in order to have a social life, but she did really like Pamela.

Pamela made her feel like she could do something bigger with her life, like she could break out of the mold of the girl going for the Olympics that her father had set out for her. Like she could explore what it was like to be her and do something different. Something bold.

In the end, Pamela pushed her to become Batgirl, to fight crime. To discover what Barbara cares about and be bold enough to actually do it.

She is grateful to her for that, but it hurts that it had to get that far before she finally jumped into action. To finally do something. She’s not going to let that happen again. No one deserves a fate like Pamela, including Pamela.

Fighting Poison Ivy always hurts the most. What does this new guy know about that? He just showed up and thinks that he has what it takes. There is more to being a sidekick than idealistically wanting to bring hope and having some rage. He doesn’t know half of it. He probably doesn’t even have the mental strength to tough it out. He’ll be gone soon.

She watches the cops file out with Killer Croc and his goons. With the police lights fading it’s just Batman and Robin outlined by the door of the bank. Their silhouettes are different, unlike hers and Batman’s, but they still look good next to each other.

A bout of irritation surges up in her as she swings down to join them, giving her shadow a satisfied look as her own fits seamlessly into the group.

“Where to now, Batman?” she asks, putting her hands on her hips and staring out into the night.

“Home,” Batman grunts, making her deflate.

“What? No. We still have to patrol,” Barbara protests.

“You have school tomorrow,” Batman points out, the asshole, like he cared about that before. “You need to go home and sleep. I can do the patrol, if something big happens, the Batwave will wake you.”

“Yeah, you need to sleep,” Robin pipes up, sounding kind of smug about it and Barbara feels her own hackles rise, ready to fight this kid for real.

“The same goes for you, Robin. Go home,” Batman says.

“Ha!” Barbara laughs at his crestfallen face and Robin glares at her. She just sticks her tongue out, uncaring if it’s childish, because Robin has an even childisher pout.

Batman sighs, as if he’s regretting some choice. Barbara straightens up, trying to be professional, as she says: “Maybe Robin has to go home, but we patrolled late together before. You need the back up, it’s dangerous alone.”

It earns her a look from Batman, but she meets his eyes unapologetically. He doesn’t scare her, she knows him better than that.

He deflates a little and sends her a less stern look as he says: “I appreciate it, but I’ll be fine. Now both of you. Home.” Robin makes a move to protest and Batman’s head whips around to him as he adds in a stern voice: “I’ll know if you didn’t listen.”

Robin lets out a defeated huff and Barbara can agree with him on that. Batman is serious and there is no reason to disobey this time. He seems to realize that they give up, because he gives them both a final nod, then shoots his grappler up, before disappearing into the night.

Now it’s just them.

“Wear less color next time,” Barbara says, before turning to leave, because while she can wish him away, she know that won’t work. However, she can push where it hurts. Just a little.

“Get some original material,” Robin shoots right back, before grappling away and Barbara hates how he can do it as she makes her way back home. With any luck, she’ll be there before her dad.

#rr writing #batman #bruce wayne #batgirl #barbara gordon #robin #dick grayson #dc #dc comics #growing pains au #barbara gordon is batgirl #dick grayson is robin #killer croc #pamela isley #early days batman #jim gordon #barbara gordon & dick grayson #batgirl & robin

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wizkiddx · 3 years

Text

your voice

angsty vibe, requested by @hollandlover19 than you for th rq and hop this doesn't disappoint too much :)))

summary: tom says something so stupid and has to deal with the consquences

warnings: a bit angsty, but ends in fluff! argumnts and raising voices, I guess could be associated with panic attacks tho not written with that intention

//////////////////////////////////

“Oh, Y/n er sorry.” Harrisons morning dulcet tones were what you were awoken to with a groan.

Everything was achy, and your head was pounding, making you grumble in discontent as you shifted uncomfortably on the technically too-small-to-sleep-on sofa.

This was not the morning you’d foreseen even 12 hours ago.

Lockdown had been difficult for everyone, even removing the tragic health crisis. Being locked in with your boyfriend and his brothers and friends was, for the most part, amazing. Lots of laughs, lots of beers and lots of quality time that you usually didn’t get. But it was also intense.

Without a doubt, since you first got together, this was the longest time you’d ever had with Tom. And it had been brilliant, your relationship getting so much closer and just learning the subtlest intricacies about the other. In fact, when lockdown had been announced, you’d never lived together (the most a week-long holiday).

Though it was also like a pressure cooker, Toms rented house. When one of you were in an understandable but stubborn lousy mood, it affected the whole house.

Yesterday night had been the perfect storm. The weather was unbelievably scorching; your work had announced that they had to let some staff go because of the financial implications of the pandemic; a ‘mole’ had released personal details of your relationship.

And it was like a pot on the stove; everything went from controllable to violently boiling over in a matter of minutes.

Honestly, you didn’t even know why you had started arguing - it was that pathetic. And yet you’d both said pretty horrible stuff - though it was Tom who had crossed the line. Frankly, the way he’d spoken to you was almost unforgivable.

You’d both known instantly too, all his anger at you had immediately evaporated when he’d realised what he had said. It took no time for him to become a grovelling apologetic mess, however even that- it was already too late.

It might sound feeble, but honestly, you’d run and locked yourself in the downstairs loo. You’d cried on the inside- whilst from the other side of the door, he had been begging and pleading with you.

After an hour though, Tom finally gave up - hence why you’d had a pretty uncomfortable night on the sofa.

This brings it back to Harrison, the early riser of the house, barrelling into the living room after his morning run. All bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, except also slightly terrified looking as he stood awkwardly in the doorway.

“I’m up now” You sighed, dragging yourself into a sitting position on the sofa whilst massaging your crooked neck.

“You er…. you fell asleep watching the TV?” Rolling your eyes, you sighed at the blonde, even if his poor acting was a little entertaining.

“Are we both pretending that you don’t know what went down last night?” Of course, Harrison knew. The walls were thin, you’d been screaming and he was Tom’s best friend. No doubt, Tom had immediately gone to him for help and advice last night.

Harrison held his hands up in response, caught in the act, and clicked his tongue. “What he said was bad. You shouldn’t be the one ending up with the sore back.” He wasn’t wrong.

“And yet here I am…” With a sigh you smiled which he returned with a sickeningly empathetic one “Anyway, don’t let my sad self get in the way, did you come in here for anything?”

Now, because Harrison was mentally a five year old, that’s how you ended up sat crossed-legged on the floor, clutching a wii remote and angrily shouting at yoshi on the mariokart screen. The whole household was competitive as hell and you were no exception - so some rouge elbows were flying when he viciously knocked you off the track.

Slowly Harry and Tuwaine filtered in and picked up remotes too, so the quiet morning was very quickly switched into a tense atmosphere of yelps and shouts. None more so than Tuwaine, who was possibly the worst looser you had ever met.

Really, you knew all the boys were only doing this as there way of showing you they were with you. That they also thought Tom was a massive raging dickhead. And you appreciated it more than they would ever know. Locked down in Toms house, very much not mutual ground, having three stupid boys behind you meant everything.

Just as you got on to the 18th and final race of the house’s mario grand prix, another voice cut across the tense silence as you waited for the coutdown to turn into ‘go’. Naturally, you flipped round to see Tom, looking as though he literally just rolled out of bed with puffy eyes and messy hair and no top. The sight made your heart flutter, to the point you had to consciously check yourself - refusing to smile softly at him like you usually would, instead narrowing your eyebrows and looking back at the TV.

Tom had so desperately hoped that when he came down this morning, everything would be better. That all it’d take would be a quiet conversation for the two of you to make up - for him to have you in his arms again. Primarily as he had heard your excited laugh echoing through the halls in reactions to Tuwaines yelps of protests - it made him hopeful. Waking up to a cold and empty bed was almost soul-crushing this morning. He did not want it to ever happen again.

Which is why his heart sank so much when all you gave him was a scolding look, before turning your attention to the TV. Admittedly, he was naive to think that what he’d done last night would be an easy fix - he knew it too. So with dropping shoulders, Tom silently took a seat on the sofa, watching from afar. You spent the rest of the race more absent, not joining in with the Harrison or Harrys trash-talking, acutely aware of Tom’s eyes burning the back of your head.

Then came Harry’s celebrations as the overall winner (only just) and when Harrison suggested another game Tom piped up again.

“Give me a turn Harry.”

The three boys kneeling next to you all stiffened, looking immediately to you for what seemed like consent - as if they were engaging with the enemy. (At least it was good to know everyone was on your side).

“I’m gonna go prepare for my meeting anyway.” You spoke quietly, already placing the remote on the floor and standing up.

“Y/n I don’t mind swappin-“

“No. Thanks, H but no.” You weren’t being selfless and giving Tom a turn. You were running away from seeing him.

And Harrison was still really angry at Tom. He’d been so selfish and insensitive and had hurt you- someone who Haz also cared a lot about too. Yes Tom was his bestmate, that he’d grown up with and known for years - but Haz really liked you too, in fact all the boys did. So they were almost as pissed with Tom as you were.

So while you threw the cushion you were sat on back on the floor, Harrison shot Tom the filthiest look and practically shooed him away.

“come on Y/n … just one more? Then you can do your boring work.” You were about to refuse when Haz tilted his head toward the door, only then noticing that Tom had slipped out the room. Now that he was gone ,yes, just one more wouldn’t hurt. The meeting prep wasn’t time pressured; it was an excuse for an escape.

Tuwaine whooped a little when you nodded, planting back down and ready for the first race. Yet apart from that, the room was still a little awkward, you being the first to break the silence.

“Actually Haz, would you mind giving me a lift today?”

“What to the shops?

“Um no not quite.” Tuwaine laughed in his usual innocent and infectious style before asking more.

“Seriously? You know we’re locked down? Boris won’t be happy if you going mad and leaving the house.”

“Just to Y/f/n’s. She lives on her own so it’s legal.”

“She lives just down the road right? Can’t you walk?” Harry was confused, making him look away from the screen, ultimately leading to his ‘diddykong’ falling off the track.

“I’ll have my bags. I um… I think I’m going to stay with her till lockdown eases more.”

As soon as you said that, Harry pressed pause on the race, all three boys looking at you mouth-opened.

“For real?”

“Yeh I um… think me and Tom need some time apart and being locked in isn’t helping.”

“I’m not saying to forgive and forget what he said… but he is really sorry.”

“The twats literally kicking himself.” Tuwaine added, making you smile a little for calling Tom that.

“I know just… I need some space and-“

“Are you breaking up?” Harry almost announced, cutting you off. He would miss you too.

“No! Nono I … well I don’t know. I just- we both need this.”

The boys all nodded, looking at the floor for a moment before Harrison’s blue eyes were back on you.

“Course I’ll drive, but… but I’ll miss you.”

/////////////////////////////////////////////////////////

You’d left merely an hour later, whilst Tom was holed up in the garden doing what looked like an almost unbearable work out. It meant he was also out your hair and you could throw all your stuff into two suitcases without him being any the wiser. It was probably pretty cowardly to leave without speaking to him, but you couldn’t. It would hurt too much and you didn’t want to break down in front of him. No doubt as soon as you had got to Y/f/n you did - into a blubbering mess of tears - but Tom hadn’t seen so it was okay.

Speaking of. Tom.

Tom was not in a good way at all. He’d been trying really hard to curb his’ short fuse’ lately- all of which had been well and truly blown in the past 4 hours. After finally being realised from meetings, which he’d not been able to concentrate on anyway, Tom had mentally prepared himself for a lot of grovelling. Once he’d vaguely hunted the house and not found you there, he naturally asked Harry and Tuwaine (both of whom were in the living room) if they’d seen you around.

It was a typical question, the answer he was expecting was that you’d just gone on your daily walk. And yet the response he got was… well a lot more confusing. Harry’s eyes widened whilst T did his awkward-uncomfortable chuckle, the two locked in an intense bout of eye contact. It was as though they were arguing with each, but through the powers of telekinesis... and it put Tom on edge. He was already stressed because you were so angry with him, so not getting a clear answer out of his brother and best mate - lets just say it tested his patience.

“You two need to tell me what the hell is going on right now.”

The two boys both looked panicked to speak to him, which was the opposite of the usual situation. They were some of the ONLY people in his life that would just say it how it is, no sugar coating. Like if he was away and being ‘famous’ was getting to his head; or if he wore the wrong pair of jeans. Even yesterday evenings events, they’d both called him out on what he’d said to you.

So why the silence?

Eventually, it was Harry who spoke up, but in doing so, practically just waved all responsibility on to another innocent party.

“Ask Haz.”

And then Tom knew. He knew this was bad. Immediately his heart was pumping at an alarmingly fast rate, taking the stairs two at a time and not bothering to knock before bursting the door open.

“Where’s Y/n?”

Harrison was reclined back on his haphazardly made bed, laptop balanced on his lap as he looked up with a sigh. He’d known this conversation was coming, but it didn’t make it any less easy. With a sigh, Haz closed the lid of his MacBook and sat up on the bed.

“Tom just-“

“Where. Is. She.”

“She’s gone to Y/f/n’s.”

“Oh… okay.” Suddenly Tom’s voice was muted, thinking he might’ve blown his top at nothing. This wasn’t weird - Y/f/n was in your support bubble and you went to hers often.

Tom was grossly underestimating the situation - and Harrison heard didn’t fancy stringing him along though.

“No like gone. She um… she took all her stuff. I think she’s going to stay there till-“

Tom was already out his room at that point, slamming the door as he did so. Making a beeline for his own room, Tom then frantically started to pull out the draws and rummage around the shelves, confirming what he already knew. Your clothes were gone, your toothbrush and toiletries were gone, you were gone.

It’s important to note Tom didn’t really cry all that much. Or if he did - it was more inconsequential, at a sad movie or one of the rescue dog stories from battersea. Actually, when it came down to it, he didn’t really cry.

Now though, it was impossible to ignore the burning of his eyes, as he sank down onto the bed that now felt twice the size. With ragged breath, he repeatedly fisted his eyes, not actually letting the tears fall - but it was impossible to not acknowledge their presence. Harrison stood wordlessly at the door frame, knowing it best not to interrupt - whilst at the same time knowing Tom shouldn’t be left alone. There was a delicate balance between the two, which he was walking on a knife-edge on right now.

After a short while, Tom looked up with red eyes and nodded at Harrison, effectively granting him entrance. With a sigh once again, Haz moved and sat next to Tom on the bed, clasping his hands together nervously.

“She said you both just needed a break from each other. Think lockdown and everything was just a bit too intense.” Haz had tried to explain, yet it seemed Tom had only managed to lock onto one of the first words.

“A break? Or breaking up?”

“I uhm… she didn’t explicitly say ending things. But I just… I don’t know to be honest mate.”

“You see the way she looked at me this morning? Like she hated me. Wouldn’t even acknowledge that I was there.”

“I don’t know what to say… she needs time and space I think.” Tom was silent for a beat, shaking his head as he cradled his forehead.

“I hate the fact you and my girlfriend are on better terms than I am.” Anddd his voice was back to scathing.

“I’m not on anyones side. But your both my friends and she… she needed some time.”

With that, Harrison made a quick exit out, getting Harry to take over the Tom supervision.

Ever since the atmosphere in the house had been tense. To say Tom was highly strung was an understatement, particularly towards Harrison. Deep down he was thankful Haz was looking out for Y/n: he was glad that Haz was checking she was okay. It’s not like Tom could, because Y/n was refusing to answer his calls, texts, whatsapps, even the slip of paper he’d slipped under Y/f/n’s door in the middle of an especially dark night.

So it was good to know Y/n was okay, but the fact she was going on socially distanced walks with the rest of his housemates was rubbing salt in the wound.

After a week and a half of complete radio silence on your end Tom had utterly worn down. He didn’t have the emotional capacity to be angry anymore, he was just tired. Tired of missing you with every breath, tired of the ten-tonne weight of guilt pressing on his chest, fucking exhausted with being angry at Haz and Harry and Tuwaine.

The best thing in his life and one of the very limited opportunities was quality time with the people he loved more than anything else. He had ruined it all.

And it was the small things. It was waking up to your soft, whispered voice in the morning; it was your infectious giggle when he surprised you with a hug from behind and gentle kisses to your neck; it was your quiet singing in the shower. Especially when he knew Haz, Harry and Tuwaine were all still seeing you and laughing with you. It hurt like hell.

Which is how he ended up hesitantly knocking on Harrison’s bedroom door at half eleven at night, with his tail between his legs. Having been so uber-healthy all lockdown, Haz was already in bed following his sleep cycle, though for Tom right now- he would be awake.

“I’m um… I’m sorry I’ve been a knob. There’s no excuse of anything I’ve just… I’ve been a knob.”

“You’re not wrong.” Harrison nodded in agreement with a sly smile, motioning for Tom to come into the room, after which he perched on the edge of the bed.

“I just… I need to speak to her but I… I don’t want to push her if she’s still hurting and I…”

“You absolutely promise not to blow your fuse? Because she couldn’t handle that.” Tom’s eyes widened, thinking this would be a much harder pitch than how it seemed to be going.

“Yesyesyes i- I promise. I just, I feel broken you know? Even if all I get is the time to say sorry, I-I really need to.”

Harrison released a deep breath, nodding slowly before throwing the covers off himself. Tom watched all his movements with a curious gaze, silently sitting as Haz pulled on a hoodie, then socks too.

“Well? Let’s go.”

//////////////////

Now, what Tom had not in the slightest bit been prepared for was this to happen tonight. Really, he hadn’t even thought Harrison would agree to let him talk to you… and even if he had, Tom not in hell thought it’d be at 11:30 that evening.

His heart was thundering in his chest, trying to hurriedly script how on earth he was going to apologise meaningfully to you - as him and Haz walked the short distance to your friends house. Honestly the whole situation was peculiar to Tom - finding it hard to believe that if you weren’t to answer his texts you wouldn’t be open to an in person conversation.

What Tom didn’t know, was how you’d been texting Haz at a similar point of desperation. You weren’t happy and even given everything Tom had said and acted - you missed your boy. No matter how infuriating he could be when trapped 24/7 - you’d quickly learnt this was the only way you wanted to spend these weird times.

So yes, Tom’s best friend knew you were hardly sleeping either, but needed that little push to interact with you boyfriend. No doubt, you’d still be awake to answer the door.

Once he’d arrived at the apartment block and walked up the stairs to the right floor, it still took some prodding and pushing from Harrison to get Tom to knock on the door. Plainly, because he was shitting himself. Haz hadn’t given him enough pre warning, enough time to work it all out in his head. So it took another encouraging nod from Harrison for him to knock on the slightly rough-round-the-edges flat door.

Y/f/n was single and young, starting her career in Kingston - so the flat she could afford was modest at best. When it was just occupied by a single person, that was manageable - two was a push. You’d only been living with her for a week and a few days but it was enough to know this flat was not ideal for two people in lockdown. You were already stepping on each others toes. It also wasn’t technically legal to move households but Y/f/n had always been in your support bubble as a single household otherwise. And so there was also a layer of guilt to it all.

Naturally then, sharing a bed with someone who wasn’t Tom meant you just were not sleeping. Even if you had both gone to bed early (just to kill some hours in the day) you were still wide awake at quarter to twelve - when a timid knock echoed through the minuscule apartment. Curiosity peaked at who the hell would be calling now; you silently slipped out of bed, managing to not disturb Y/f/n, and closed the bedroom door.

Now you weren’t an idiot. Even though this was southwest london, hardly the capital for crime, Y/f/n lived in a dodgy building with some questionable characters. And it was midnight. Hence why you approached the situation cautiously, tiptoeing to the door and waiting with your ear pressed against the wood.

“I told you she wouldn’t answer!”

“She will! Might just be in the loo or something.”

“Haz this is stupid-“

The air in your chest froze when you immediately recognised the smooth tone of his voice. It was him… and you’d missed that so much. Already there were tears in your eyes and you couldn’t open the door just yet. So no, instead you slid down the doorframe before calling quietly out into the night.

“Tom?”

The bickering on the otherside of the door was silenced, but you heard a quite tap on the door... and could envision exactly what was going on. Tom, pressing both palms and his ear to the door, as Harrison took a few steps back - sensing his work was done.

“Y/n? You there?” He sounded desperate, you could hear the emotion dripping off his voice. It was only when you tried to reply did you realise your own voice was having a harder time speaking.

“Yeh its-its me.” It felt as though this heavyweight that had been pressing down on your chest was slowly lifting, making your voice all cracky and low.

In response, there was a short and sharp exhale. It sounded relieved before some fidgeting as you imagined him crouching down beside the door - mirroring your image.

“Fuck, it… it feels so good to hear your voice.”

“Yours too… I’ve-i’ve missed you.”

Tom snorted at that, a gentle bang allowing you to realise he’d just whacked his head on the back of the wood.

“You have no idea how this week felt.” He was wrong though, you did.

Yes, maybe without the insurmountable guilt that Tom was rightfully feeling, but it didn’t mean that the time apart wasn’t easy.

“I do. This hasn’t been a nice holiday for me you know?”

He sighed, knowing that yet again he’d said the wrong thing. This time though, he didn’t rebut instantly (which surprised you), instead his response was more measured and calculated.

“I am so sorry. And of course, I know because I was the one that hurt you too. I don’t think I’ll ever be able to forgive myself for that.” You nodded but given this conversation was happening through a door Tom didn’t see your gentle agreement - opting to fill the silence.

“I um… I’m not good at this whole um… speaking my feelings. But I’ve hated myself ever since I picked that fight with you. It was stupid and uh it-it was all my fault. I’m so so sorry for hurting you.”

“‘Why?” You tried to ask, except the words were stuck in your throat, making you have to clear it before asking again. “Why did you say it?”

“To get a rise out of you. It’s stupid and petty and fucking-fucking dumb. I said it not because I’ve ever thought it, I never ever have, but I knew it’d hurt you. I was preying on your insecurities because I was angry at the world and that was so unfair. “

“No shit.”

Silence reigned as you fiddled with your fingers - specifically with the promise ring he’d bought you a year ago.

“You-you think you could ever forgive me?”

“Thats the annoying part. I want to hate you because you literally stabbed me then twisted the knife but… but all I’ve done this week is miss you. Even when I saw Haz or Harry or Tuwaine. I just fucking missed you.”

“Can you open the door please love?”

Clumsily you scrubbed the tear tracks off your face, scrabbling to your feet so you could thrust open the doors. Because you might still be bloody pissed at him, but at the same time - you needed your Tom. Thrusting the door open, the first thing you registered was being pressed into Tom’s chest. His arms slinked around your waist and held him tight, which you reciprocated, squeezing tightly round his neck. Your senses were all being assaulted by one thing and one thing only. Tom.

He smelt like usual, except maybe the slightest bit stronger than usual - you figured he hadn’t showered in a day or two or bothered with cologne. The top of your forehead was pressed up against his chin, and as he readjusted his grip on you, you felt the scratchy feeling of his unshaven stubble. He kept whispering apologies against the top of your head, almost desperate and religiously.

Arching back, you brought both hands to cup his cheeks, looking into his glassy brown. eyes, which looked so lost and confused.

“I’m still angry.”

“Of course-“

“I’m still angry but I’m going to kiss you okay?”

Safe to say Tom didn’t require a verbal response, taking it upon himself to nudge his lips against yours, yet waiting for you to initiate the kiss. And that you did, everything else about this godforsaken week and a half. His index finger traced the angle of your jaw, whilst he held your lower back tight, pressing himself as close as physically possible to you. Needing you.

Eventually arching back, your thumb ran over his deep and sunken under-eyes, which added so much age to his face.

“You look tired Tommy.”

“Can’t sleep without you telling me goodnight.” That was another tradition you had had. Even when he was away, you’d even set an alarm for whatever bedtime was for the other across the world. Just so you could send a little message or voice not saying goodnight. Was it cringey? Yes. Did either of you care? No.

But since you’d been away all the evening wishes were absent from you. Which hurt Tom more than you may ever know.

“I know you’re still angry but will you please come home to me? I need you to be the last thing I hear at night and the first thing in the morning.”

would love to hear any feedback <333 (but think this is a bit of a shitter so im sorry!!!)

tagging: @lovehollandy12 @pandaxnienke @thegirlwiththeimpala @msmimimerton @hollandfanficlove @hollandlover19 @hunnybunimdun @crossyourpeter @thefernandasantana@hallecarey1

#tom holland x you #tom holland angst #tom holland x y/n #tomholland #tom holland x reader #tom holland fluff #harry holland

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2-cute-4-school · 3 years

Text

𝓠𝓾𝓲𝓭𝓭𝓲𝓽𝓬𝓱 𝓪𝓷𝓭 𝓒𝓱𝓸𝓬𝓸𝓵𝓪𝓽𝓮

Group : NCT

Pairing : Griffyndor! Mark Lee x gn! Reader

Genre : hp au, rivals to lovers, light angst to absolute fluff

Word count : 4.4K words | M.list

Warnings : injury, swearing

Summary : ‘He had nightmares of you slipping right past his fingers and him failing to catch you. He relives that moment.’

a/n: thank you for 1000 followers you absolute cuties!! sending lots of smooches and snuggles your way!!

“Aren’t you going to ask how the coolest champion is feeling about tomorrow’s match?”

You watched Donghyuck, your fellow housemate and best friend since you first stepped onto the Hogwarts train, expectantly. He spared you a quick glance as he plopped down beside you on the couch in your shared common room, too busy to munch on his chocolate frog to give you any further attention.

“I’ve already asked Mark.”

You would like to be able to say you were surprised at his answer, but his teasing character has become an usual by now

It still baffled you how you managed to even tolerate each other, much less get to share a bond as deep as the one you developed along the years. You two had next to nothing in common other than your cunning wit. While Donghyuck delved deep into his love for astronomy, which you despised with a burning fervor, you dedicated your time to Quidditch entirely.

You loved the sport dearly, it offered you that adrenaline rush you were born to chase, that quickened heartbeat as you rushed to catch the Golden Snitch. You spent every spare moment you could find in your hectic schedule on the pitch with the wind threading through strands of your hair and your hands clenched so tightly onto your broomstick your knuckles turn white. And you adored every second of that. But what you definitely didn’t adore was Mark Lee.

“And worst best friend award goes to surprise surprise Lee Donghyuck!”

He shrugged unimpressed by your weak attack and focuses back on his damned frog.

Mark Lee. Unfortunately for your sanity, you had to see him almost as often as you decided to practice on your own. If there was one thing you shared with him and you respected him for was his own commitment to Quidditch. More often that not, you’d have to share the pitch with him in your spare time, taunting each other for the entire period of time you spent practicing. He was the beloved Seeker of Gryffindor, their pride and joy and your rival ever since you were both accepted in your respective teams.

“So what’s your score against him?”

“It’s a draw.”

Yes, you were that petty. You and Mark kept the score on how many times you defeated each other in matches. It didn’t actually matter which team actually won, the only thing that mattered for your childish competition was who managed to catch the Golden Snitch.

“That’s why you’re so tense?”

“Bingo, smartpants.”

“What even is the big deal about your little game? It’s not like either of you actually gets something out of this.”

“I gain the right to stick my win in his face and vice versa.”

Teasing between you and Mark often stretched your patience to its maximum and ended up in one of you snapping like a chord under pressure. Donghyuck shivered as he remembered the final match of your fourth year when your house lost against Gryffindor due to Mark catching the Snitch before you. He could vividly remember the blood rushing through his veins in fear at the sight of you battling Mark shoulder to shoulder at a dangerous speed, arm stretched out so far he believed you’d topple over at any moment.

He doesn’t want a repeat of the miserable image of you he saw at the time, a defeated you, slumped on the bench in your changing room, head lowered in ultimate shame and disappointment as bitter tears rolled off your face, splashing against the floor as Donghyuck watched worriedly through the half opened door. Mark had really done a number on you that day.

“You have to win, Y/N.”

“Why the sudden change of heart, wasn’t our competition meaningless for your highness?”

“I don’t give a frog’s toe about your competition, but I want to spend time time with you this summer. And not just to watch you practice until you drop.”

You scoffed. You knew that he was referring to the summer after your horrifying defeat against Mark. Donghyuck could barely get a hold of you since you spent all day on your broom, tiring yourself out to your limit.

“Don’t worry, I don’t plan on losing.”

“Already wetting your pants, Y/L/N?”

You didn’t have to turn around to put a face to the taunting voice behind you.

“I don’t know, Lee, should I? You must know since you have more experience than me.”

Mark’s face scrunched up at the reminder of his first year when he lost control of his broom and he quite literally saw his life flash before his eyes. Not very Gryffindor from his part.

“Whatever, we both know how this is about to end. Save your cheap defense until after this final. My team will win this year’s tournament and I’ll beat you individually too.”

The reminder of the stakes of this match weren’t soothing your nerves at all, especially mere hours before you were facing Mark on the pitch. You curled your fists and kept a straight face, not daring to show him any weakness from your side.

“Shove that pointless confidence up your ass until you prove you’re worthy of it, Lee.”

“Oh so fourth year isn’t enough proof?”

The corner of your lips twitched and your eyes narrowed. zeroing on his tense featured in a chilling glare.

“You said matches don’t count, didn’t you? You were the one insisting that you didn’t consider anything a victory other than catching the Snitch before me. And in that aspect, last I verified, we’re equals.”

His lips moved soundlessly, trying to come up with a retort, but you didn’t spare him enough time to come up with anything, turning on your heels and marching away to meet Donghyuck.

“You’ll see, Y/L/N, you’ll never be my equal.”

His voice followed you tauntingly through the busy corridors, your rushed footsteps taking you anywhere but close to the only person who could make your blood boil.

It took three pep talks and four ‘friendly’ attacks of your personal space from Donghyuck to make you gather your spirits and stop the tremors shaking up your entire body. He walked you to the changing room’s door, patting you roughly on the back one last time

“Give your best, I’ll be watching from the stands. I trust that you won’t let me get bored. Also, remember that if you lose you’re sleeping on the mat in front of the entrance in our common room.”

And with that he skipped away, hurried to find a good spot in the stands that were already starting to fill up with students. You sigh, used to his weird way of encouraging you and stepped inside the room, greeting Jungwoo, your captain and your fellow teammates, starting to change into your Quidditch uniform.

As soon as you set foot on the familiar pitch, your eyes met Mark’s who stood straight and proud side by side with his own captain sporting his Gryffindor red cape and holding his broom, the newest Nimbus model.

You Keeper was talking your ear off about the ‘amazingly efficient’ polish he found, but you couldn’t seem to rip your gaze away from Mark who in turn seemed to burn through you with his gaze. He threw you a smirk as if provoking you to lose your cool. But you decided you wouldn’t allow him the satisfaction.

The stands were already roaring to life. Any match between you and Mark was very sought after by everyone in your school due to the intensity it held each time. Despite the already loudness surrounding the pitch, one high pitched screech couldn’t help but catch your attention.

“KICK SOME ASS, Y/N! Or the mat is waiting for you!”

Count on Donghyuck to be the embarrassing mom rooting for you at her child’s every sport event. You shoot him a warning look to which he only responded with an over dramatic wink and an even louder ’whoop’. You could only sigh, appreciating his support despite your lack of reaction to it.

“I’ll kick your ass, Lee Donghyuck.”

You muttered, trying to stop the smile forming on your lips. A snort came from the side, making your head snap in its direction.

“Try your best, Y/LN, too bad you’ll still disappoint lover boy over there.”

“Jealous, Lee?”

“You wish.”

Madam Hooch interrupted your banter with a shrill whistle, stepping in between the two teams while holding the Quaffle.

“Alright, boys and girls, mount your brooms.”

Within seconds all players were high in the air, adrenaline pumping through your veins, your heated gaze locked with Mark’s. It became kind of a tradition between the two of you, intense stare downs before the official start of the game. Madam Hooch’s voice which carried the same words every time sounded far away as she bent down, ready to throw the Quaffle.

“Alright, I want a clean and fair game, hear me? Good luck and may the best win.”

The long deafening whistle signified the start of the match and Chasers whizzed past you, speeding towards the Quaffle. You and Mark broke eye contact, each of you getting immersed in the game, your sole focus being on catching sight of the Golden Snitch.

The weather worsened as the game progressed, the unpredictable May weather acting up. The clouds darkened, completely shutting out any ray of sunshine trying to sneak past them, a thickening fog suffocating the school grounds. Slowly but surely, what started as a few scattered rain drops soon turned into a full blown storm, a cold shower falling atop of you, the harsh wind whipping your capes back and forth. The stands were barely visible, the cheers from below inaudible over the wind and the players’ yells.

If it wasn’t hard enough already to spot the small, golden ball, now it seemed close to impossible. You could make out Mark’s silhouette flying around, but you didn’t linger any longer on him, focused on catching sight of the Snitch. Bludgers were flying everywhere, the Beaters’ efficiency decreasing because of the lack of visibility, another worry to add to the list.

Gryffindor was in the lead with 20 points, the score remaining tight as the match dragged on and on. You had already been playing for a while, your uniforms were already soaked and your skin paling from the biting cold of the unforgiving rain, but the conditions only spurred you further. You had to catch the Snitch.

Just as your patience was running thin, you caught sight of a fast-moving golden spot, hovering on the sidelines. Without a second thought, you sped towards it, your surroundings blurring as your eyes focused solely on the already moving Snitch. Mark noticed your forceful actions immediately, whizzing past the others players and nearing you.

“And Y/L/N seems to have finally spotted the Golden Snitch! Both Seekers are bolting after it, I can barely keep track of them!”

The crowd exploded, cheering louder than ever, but you couldn’t hear anything, pushing yourself to the limit as Mark caught up to you and you battled side by side once again. The Snitch seemed to be angrier than ever, jerking furiously at every corner, but you didn’t let yourself be caught by surprise, keeping up with it.

Until it started speeding in a straight line, stopping its irregular twists and turns and you knew that was your chance. You flew at top speed, stretching your hand in front of you so much that your muscles almost protested and Mark followed suit. You were shoulder to shoulder with him, subtly knocking into each other in an attempt to make the other lose their balance.

“Move! It’s mine!”

His hoarse voice yelled right by your year, only making you grit your teeth harder.

“Fuck off, Lee!”

Your fingertips were a breath away from the Snitch, Mark’s arm pressing into yours, the cold wind biting at your cheeks. Desperately, you shifted your weight from your bottom to the hand clutching your broomstick, leaning forward on your arm and before Mark could react, you lurched forward slightly, encasing the running object in the palm of your hand, clutching it so tightly it left marks into the skin, but you didn’t care.

You did it. You caught the Golden Snitch.

“Y/N!”

Before you could regain your stance, a Bludger knocked into your broom forcefully. With your already unsteady grip on the broomstick, you toppled over in an instant, the broom slipping from under you, but you didn’t dare unclench the fingers trapping the Snitch in your hand.

Mark’s desperate yell seemed to be the only sound echoing in your ears as you plummeted. The last thing you saw before you knocked loudly into the ground with a sickening crack were Mark’s distressed features, a hand stretched to its full extent in front of him as he rushed to get a hold of you, your own outstretched fingers slipping right past his.

Surprisingly, as soon as you managed to crack your eyes open you weren’t hit with a blinding light. It still seemed to take a great effort to keep them open for longer than a second, your hand twitching in an attempt to bring it to cover your sensitive eyes, but being stopped by a weight forcing it down.

“Y/N?”

You groaned, scrunching up your face as soreness hit your body full force at your attempt to move.

“Merlin, Y/N, can you open your eyes?”

You could recognize Donghyuck’s voice anywhere, but the almost desperate tone he used was quite foreign to you.

“Come on, babe, open your eyes. Madam Pomfrey! ”

You realized the weight on your hand were actually his fingers which now squeezed yours encouragingly as his other hand came up to smooth strands of your hair away from your face. You clenched your teeth, forcing an eye open.

“Stop fucking yelling, punk.”

At your annoyed retort, he let out a relieved sigh, wrapping his arms gently around you while trying not to jostle you too much.

“Thank Merlin, you’re back.”

After Madam Pomfrey checked on you and updated you on your injuries which were a bit more serious than you expected, she left you with Donghyuck once again. He leaned back in his chair, a lot more relaxed than in the past days he’s had to spend by your bedside. You furrowed your eyebrows.

“The match. We won the match right?”

Donghyuck snorted as your first question was about Quidditch instead of your own health, but it didn’t even surprise him anymore.

“Yes, you crazy hag, you won.”

“Yes! We did it! We won!”

You’ve never felt more relieved in your entire life. You finally proved to yourself that all the time and work you’ve put into Quidditch wasn’t for nothing. And if this was the elevation you’d feel after winning cups, you were ready to spend the rest of your youth chasing the Snitch.

“You should eat some chocolate, gain your energy back.”

Now that he mentioned it, you finally focused on your nightstand that overflowed with sweets. You grabbed the closest one, a chocolate frog, not hesitating to stuff it all in your mouth and collect the card inside. Another Nicolas Flamel, you already had two of those.

“Those are a lot.”

“Tell me about it. Don’t worry, I’ll help you finish them.”

“I don’t doubt that.”

“Hyuck, tell me, did Jungwoo cry?”

“Should’ve seen him, like a baby. I’m pretty sure he filled half of that cup with snot-”

“Ewww, I didn’t need all the gross details. Ah, I’m sorry for missing that. And Lee’s face, I bet I’d sleep like a baby for the next 10 years if I had the chance to see that.“

Donghyuck’s lips were suddenly pulled into a smirk, eyes glinting with a dangerous mischief.

“You should see one of your beaters, damn nice nose Mark delivered.”

Your munching slowed down, gulping down the sweetness loudly.

“What do you mean? Did that petty git start a fight?”

“Wouldn’t say it was out of pettiness actually.”

Mark was the first to land beside your crumpled figure, dismounting his broom faster than ever and crouching hurriedly before you. His hand ghosted over your cold cheek, too scared to touch you in case he did more harm than good. His shaking pupils fixated on you, running a hundred miles per hour over your face, hoping, praying that you’d open your eyes and celebrate in his face.

“Hey, wake up, don’t play games on the pitch, you already won! Y/L/N!”

Mark knew deep inside that you had no games left to play after a fall like that, but it was his first time seeing you so small, so hurt, so defeated despite the shining Golden Snitch still clutched loosely in your limp hand. It scared him.

“Bloody hell, wake up! Madam Hooch! Help! Anyone, help!”

His head snapped around trying to catch sight of anyone coming to your aid, eyes scanning through the fog crazily. The rain seemed to fall faster and faster, the chill settling deep into your bones. Exhausted, Mark lowered his head in defeat, his forehead gently leaning on yours, his nose nudging against yours. One of his hands still touched your cheek, lightly caressing it, thumb running over the apple of your cheek as his other hand curled into a fist against the ground.

Jungwoo landed next, almost tripping over his broom as he rushed over to you and knelt next to you, opting to ignore the position Mark was in and focus on your well being. Mark’s head didn’t even turn as he spoke lowly.

“Do something for Merlin’s sake. Get Madam Hooch, or Pomfrey! Anyone dammit, just to something!”

Mark raised himself at the lack of response from Jungwoo who seemed rotten to his spot, freezing at the sight of you.

“Are you deaf?! Fucking help!”

That seemed to snap Jungwoo out of his frozen state as he jumped to his feet, sprinting towards the stand where teachers usually stayed during matches. One by one, your teams landed and gathered near you as Mark’s yells of help guided them to you.

“Merlin, that doesn’t look good.”

Mark’s burning gaze settled on your beater who stood a few meters away, leaning on his broom.

“It would have looked better if you did your part right.”

The beater rolled his eyes at Mark’s harsh remark.

“Relax, man, I just wasn’t playing attention for a moment.”

“And you think that’s a proper excuse?!”

Mark was fired up by now, lifting himself to his feet as one of your Chasers, a year younger than you crouched by your side, gripping your hand. He sauntered over, coming face to face with the beater who didn’t seem that interested.

“I’m just saying it’s not my fault their own incompetence landed themselves in the hospital wing, I’m not pulling anyone’s wight al-”

He didn’t get to finish his mocking words as Mark’s fist met his nose with a loud crunch, Mark’s powerful swing sending him to the ground as blood started dripping from his nose steadily.

“Don’t you ever talk about Y/N like that. Not ever again. If I hear one bad word about them coming out of your worthless mouth, I’ll hex you into next year. You’ll never be half of the player Y/N already is, remember your place, asshole.”

Madam Hooch was already tending to you by the time Mark turned back to you, deeming it safe enough for you to be moved to the hospital wing. Donghyuck, who sprinted out of the stand as soon as he heard your name coming out of Jungwoo’s mouth, held your head in his lap, smoothed down your hair, pushing away wet strands that covered your eyes.

Mark strode over to you, taking off his cap and laying it over your body as he slotted an arm under your legs, his other coming around your back. He lifted your body, cradling you against his chest as Donghyuck also stood up to fix your position in Mark’s arms into a more comfortable one.

“Off to the hospital wing,now. Quick, quick, quick!”

Mark didn’t waste another moment before he hurried inside the castle with you in his hold and Donghyuck quick on his heels.

“Mark Lee stood up for me? The same Mark Lee who hates my guts since we first got in our Quidditch teams?”

“Do you know another Mark Lee? Maybe he didn’t hate you that much after all, or…not at all. After all, all these chocolate frogs are from him, said something about seeing you exchange some cards with his Griffyndor friend in class or something.”

“He visited?”

“We wouldn’t be able to get rid of him sometimes. He opened up to me once when we met outside the door trying to sneak in one night.”

“Why were you even sneaking in?”

“I was bored, okay? I had no one to tire me out during the day.”

“Hey!”

“Anyway, he said he had nightmares of you slipping right past his fingers and him failing to catch you. He relives that moment.”

“Did it really affect him that much? Accidents happen all the time.”

“Not to you, Y/N.”

“Maybe, but I’m just another player from the opposite team., right? …Do you think he…?”

Donghyuck brought a hand up to his head, massaging his temples as he sighed with annoyance.

“You’re too dense.”

“How could I have known? ”

“Look, just talk to him as soon as you can. That boy needs to finally sleep properly, even my grandma’s bag has a lighter color than his eye bags.”

You just nodded, a bit skeptic.

You were discharged on that same day. Jungwoo almost cried again when you met in the common room, hugging you tightly, praising and scolding you at the same time with a brotherly smile.

You first saw Mark Lee in the halfway, after your Potions class. He was sitting on the ledge of a large window, staring seemingly into space. Donghyuck’s words echo in your mind as you decide to approach him and hop onto the space beside him, settling comfortable against the window behind you.

“Woah, Lee, Donghyuck was right, you could really use some concealer.”

Mark jostled as if he only noticed you now. His wide doe eyes racked over your smiling face and he seemed to panic internally.

“Whe-When did you get here? Why are you out of bed?”

“Because I was discharged?”

“What? Since when?”

“Earlier today.”

“Oh…”

He cleared his throat awkwardly, eyes running wild everywhere but in your direction. You chuckled.

“It’s okay, I already know how much the almighty Mark Lee worried over poor little me.”

Mark scoffed, his embarrassed behavior vanishing.

“Don’t get ahead of yourself. I see that hit to your head didn’t help with your sharp tongue, disappointingly.”

He swiftly moved away, starting to walk away from you until your hand clasped around his wrist, stopping him mid step.

“Wait, I just… I wanted to thank you.”

Mark seemed confused now, turning back to you with furrowed eyebrows.

“Thank me? What for?”

“Standing up for me and uh, you know, taking care of me.”

Mark’s face darkened at the memory of your beater.

“That git was just asking for it and I barely did anything.”

“Then at least let me repay you for the chocolate frogs you brought me.”

Now he seemed to choke on a confused ‘huh?’ with a bewildered expression that just melted your otherwise cocky demeanor.

“W-what? How-”

Mark’s words died in his throat as you slotted your lips against his in a teasing kiss, your hand holding the nape of his next affectionately and pulling him closer you. Mark took a few moments to realize it was actually happening in reality, not just an illusion from the lack of sleep. His hands came up to your waist, wrapping you in his embrace and pulling you against him impossibly closer. Years of pushed down passion and longing were exchanged in that moment, dizzying both of you.

As you pulled away from each other for air, Mark could taste the faint sweetness of chocolate on his lips. He smiled and his whole rival image turned into a lovesick teenage boy with a smile brighter than the sun. He laughed quietly, thumbs caressing your sides gently.

“I see you enjoyed your chocolate.”

You leaned more into him, pulling his face so close to yours that your noses brushed against each other’s, your ravished breath fanning across his lips as you whispered.

“I did. I’m glad I’m so interesting to you that you observe me in class enough to know that I collect chocolate frogs cards.”

You expected a blush to paint his cheeks red, an elbow in your side or at least an annoyed huff but you got none of that. Instead, one of Mark’s hands came up to cradle your cheek as he stared deep into your eyes with an unreadable look.

“Excuse me but it’s hard not to look when I have the prettiest person I’ve ever seen who also happens to be my crush since 3rd year.”

Your eyes widened, searching his for any hint that he may be just lying or teasing you. But all you could find was pure, unadulterated fondness, a withheld fire burning low in his eyes. He leaned down, lips brushing against the shell of your ear and sending goosebumps across the expanse of your skin.

“It’s been so hard not to just pull you aside and snog you senseless, especially in your Quidditch uniform.”

You decided to play along. You brought your fingers to his heated neck, running them faintly over his skin and you smirked seeing him shiver at your touch.

“Having a kink for uniforms, Lee?”

Mark screeched lowly, pulling away from you as if burned. He smoothed down his robes, fixating you with a glare that made you laugh.

“Y/N, I’m serious, though. I like you, I really really lo-….like you.”

You noticed his stutter, but it only made your smile widen as you stretched out a hand to intertwine his fingers with yours and pull him along down the corridor.

“Hm, I’ll need some more proof of that.”

Mark squeezed your hand in response, chuckling at you sweetly. He leaned over, pressing a feather like kiss to your temple.

“Don’t worry, you’re nowhere done with your payment back to me. And I only accept it in the form of kisses and cuddles.”

You smiled at each other, your hearts finally settling satisfied in your chests after years of internal turmoil that finally burned out.

“That can be arranged easily.”

414 notes · View notes

mypoisonedvine · 3 years

Text

Seeing Red | bodyguard!Bucky Barnes x actress!reader (part 8)

(part 1) (part 2) (part 3) (part 4) (part 5) (part 6) (part 7)

series summary: bucky used to brag that he didn’t have a celebrity crush, or really care about famous people at all, which is what made him the perfect person to start working for a celebrity like yourself. except, of course, it’s just his luck that he’d fall for you.

word count: 3k

warnings: smut (semi-public sex), possessiveness (some sexual, some not), jealousy, some fluff and some angst, also some violence (including a very small amount against the reader, proceed with caution), mentions of infidelity in a previous relationship

a/n: oh y’all thought it was gonna be smooth sailing from here on out? lol

You didn’t want to abandon Bucky to do carpetside interviews, but he refused to get anywhere near a hot mic so you let him go while you walked over to a reporter you recognized; she’d been nice before, probably would be again this time, so you were a little relieved to see her tonight.

She introduced you to the camera and you were slightly spaced out until she turned to you and got your attention again. “So, you’ve been making a lot of headlines lately for your new relationship— what’s the scoop? How’s it going?” she asked playfully, pushing the microphone into your face.

“Uh, great,” you breamed, “he’s my date tonight and he seems to have disappeared to…” you turned around to look for him. “Oh, he’s talking to... is that... Laurence Fishburne?”

“James, is that his name?” she prompted, making you focus your attention back on the interview.

“Um, yeah,” you nodded, the name sounding a bit foreign, “legally, but he goes mostly by his nickname Bucky.”

“Aw, that’s cute,” she smiled. “He’s, uh…” her eyes widened a bit and you laughed.

“Yeah, he is,” you smirked. “I assume by that facial expression you mean ‘crazy hot.’”

“I mean, in the politest way possible… yeah,” she giggled.

“Yeah, no, don’t pretend not to notice for my sake, cause, yeah, it’s… apparent.”

“Apparently he was your driver first?” she pressed.

“Yes!” you beamed, and then heard the way it sounded and backpedaled slightly. “I promise that’s not why I hired him. I actually didn’t meet him before he was on my team, but, I mean, I wasn’t mad to have some eye candy in the front seat.”

“Eye candy, huh?”

“But he’s so much more than that, that’s the thing,” you explained. “We became good friends first, because he’s so smart and funny and kind and… I mean, I know he looks tough, and he is, but he’s really very sensitive underneath the slightly intimidating exterior.”

“Hard shell, soft center, sweet— he really does sound like candy!”

“Indeed,” you nodded. “Gotta run but it was nice to chat!”

You dashed over to Bucky and clung onto his arm. “Oh, hey, we were just talking about you,” he beamed.

“Loved you in After Midnight,” Mr. Fishburne smiled and even you were totally starstruck.

“Oh, wow, thanks, I loved you in… everything…” you trailed off, internally scolding yourself for the vague and useless compliment. He was about to respond but was pulled away by some member of his team, giving you and Bucky a quick wave as he began a carpet-side interview.

“That was Laurence Fishburne, wasn’t it.” Bucky mumbled to you in a stunned monotone.

“Yes, what were you doing talking to him?” you asked, amazed at his bravery to approach such a huge star.

“He came up to me, to congratulate me on… on dating you, I guess…”

“Or he mixed you up with Brad Pitt,” you shrugged.

“Yeah, if Brad Pitt lost all his money, spent a decade in the desert, went loco and buzzed all his hair off,” Bucky rolled his eyes.

“Oh come on, you look great,” you soothed him, straightening his tie. “Wanna go take some pictures?”

“I’m a little scared,” he admitted with a shy smile.

“It’s easy, just give them that sexy brooding look you do so well.”

Bucky smirked pridefully. “You think so?”

“Totally. You’re a natural,” you assured.

You tugged his arm and guided him to the carpet, letting him lead the way (or look like he was leading the way) as you found a clear spot and noticed how the cameras instantly flashed faster and brighter. Photographers called your name to get your attention, and you waved and smiled and pulled Bucky closer. The feeling of his arm around your waist was warm and comforting, and you hoped holding you had the same effect for him.

“Where are you looking?” you asked.

“At you,” he answered.

“Bucky,” you giggled, “you’re supposed to look at the cameras!”

“I honestly can’t, it’s blinding,” he frowned.

“Here,” you sighed, pointing out into the darkness just above the sea of flashing lights. “Look out there.”

“I can’t see anything!”

“I know, but, look as if there was something there to look at, trust me, it helps.”

You adjusted slightly a few times, turning a little to show off the low back of your dress. You almost gasped when Bucky held your face and kissed you suddenly, but you were happy to melt into it even as you heard the cameras flash even more aggressively, some whoops and hollers coming from the crowd on and off the carpet.

He pulled back and you wanted to chase him for more but you realized it wasn’t the right time.

“Let’s go inside,” you offered, guiding him the rest of the way down the carpet— mainly because you were afraid you’d end up jumping his bones right here in front of everyone.

He nodded and followed close by, arm resting on your shoulder the whole time, and just as you saw one of your friends and thought you might want to go over and introduce her to Bucky, you saw who she was talking to.

Sam.

Seeing him always made your heart stop. At first, it was because you were starstruck by him, in awe of his talent, amazed that you were going to be working with someone you admired so much. Then it was because you had fallen for him and he had gladly swept you off your feet, bringing you into a whirlwind romance that at the time had felt like the only thing that mattered. But since the break-up, and now, it was something else. Fear wasn’t the word, it’s not like you were afraid of him in a literal sense, but there was this anxiety, this tenseness to seeing him. It always brought back memories— the best and the worst, all at once. Nights laughing together, sharing secrets, stealing glances and touches and kisses; nights spent alone staring at a phone that never rang. Limbs tangled together between the sheets, that warm brown skin encompassing and surrounding yours; laying side by side in a bed that isn’t empty but is still plenty cold, seeing the way he angles his phone away from you and wishing you had the strength to just leave because you already knew what he was doing. The first time you said ‘I love you.’ The first time he said ‘it won’t happen again.’

“You alright?” Bucky asked, tearing you from your thoughts. You looked away and met Bucky’s gaze, hoping he either hadn’t seen your ex or at least hadn’t recognized him.

“Yeah, I’m great,” you answered quickly, “let’s go get some drinks maybe? And then I need to show you off to some people.”

“Show me off?” he scoffed.

“Yeah, why did you think I brought you here, really?” you winked.

“Hey, if we’re showing each other off, does that mean you’ll come to my next high school reunion?”

You’d been antsy ever since the two of you had come inside; it was obvious from the way you were clinging so much closer to him, and yet it was clear that your mind was a million miles away.

“Hey, it’s starting to wrap up, wanna head out soon?” you asked, trying to act casual, but he saw the way your eyes were darting up to where Sam Wilson was mingling and he knew it wasn’t about getting home early. Did you really think he wouldn’t notice that you’d seen him?

“Whatever you wanna do,” he shrugged.

“Okay, could you bring the car around for me then? And I’ll meet you outside?” you offered. “I should say hi and bye to a few people.”

“Sure,” he agreed, starting to walk away after giving you a quick kiss on the cheek.

And he really did try to do what he said he was going to, but the further away he walked, the more he glanced back to watch you walk across the room, the harder it was to just let it go. He knew you were going to talk to him, and before he really even decided to do anything about it he found himself circling back around the room, following you.

He thought he’d lost you when he turned a corner and you were gone, but then he heard voices from a doorway and cracked it open slightly to see you inside with a few other people, nobody he recognized although one of them he’d definitely seen in something before.

He sighed with relief, about to turn and go get the car like he said he would, but then Sam Wilson just had to magically materialize out of thin air as he stepped up behind you and tapped your shoulder.

“Sam!” you blurted out, spinning to face him with wide eyes.

“Hey,” he greeted, acting all suave and shit, making Bucky’s blood boil. “You look great.”

“Oh, thanks,” you mumbled, “you too.”

“You’ve been all over the internet lately, making quite the splash,” he recalled with a contemplative nod. “You and this new boytoy you’ve got.”

“I think the word you’re looking for is boyfriend,” you corrected sternly.

“Honey,” he scoffed as he rolled his eyes. Bucky couldn’t decide if it was worse to hear him call you a pet name in earnest or with the derogatory tone that he currently had. “Everybody knows you go through these guys like potato chips. Especially when they’re not famous— how many PAs did you hook up with on your last set, huh?”

“I don’t roll like that anymore,” you denied.

“That’s not what Jake Friedman says,” Sam smirked. It actually took Bucky a moment to remember that that was the guy you’d… entertained in the backseat of your car, or maybe it was more that he had entertained you; you seemed to tense up when Sam mentioned him, as did Bucky. “I mean, sure, he’s not crew, but he’s not famous the way you are. The way we are. And neither is your new guy. He doesn’t ‘get it’, does he? He doesn’t get what it’s like. Has he already started freaking out about all the hate online?”

Bucky regretted that he’d ever said anything about that; if he’d known it would come around to prove Sam Wilson right about something, he wouldn’t have done it. “No,” you lied.

“Well, he will,” Sam assured you, stepping a little closer to you and letting his fingers languidly brush over your arm. “I made a mistake before, letting you go.”

“Damn right,” you hissed as you pulled away from him.

“But I realized that, and now I’m wondering why we aren’t giving the people what they want.”

“That’s what I never understood about you,” you frowned. “It’s always about other people with you. It’s never about you, and it was never about me.”

“But it is about you,” he explained, “and me: us. You’re forgetting how good we were together.”

You shook your head. “I was single for years and you never called. Now you’re all over me with all these regrets about ending it? Get a grip, Sam. This is about you wanting what you can’t have.”

“Can’t have?” he repeated incredulously. “Baby,” he purred— and Bucky decided it was definitely worse to hear him call you that in earnest. “You know you’re always gonna be mine.”

As you started to shiver, Sam’s arms slipping around your back and grabbing your waist, Bucky felt like he had lost control of his body. He was watching himself from far away as he stormed across the room, nearly knocking a few people over on the way, and shoved Sam off of you and onto the ground.

“Bucky!” you yelped. “Bucky, stop!”

“You’d better watch your hands, Wilson, before they get somewhere they’re not supposed to be,” Bucky growled, ignoring you completely even as you helplessly tugged at his suit.

“Jesus,” Sam spat, “the fuck is wrong with you?”

“What are you doing?” you asked Bucky, irate and confused as you stared up at him with a furrowed brow. He grabbed your hand and guided you out of the room and down the hall, barely managing to drag you into a random bathroom before he started tearing at your dress, leaving rough bites and kisses down your neck as you gasped and moaned softly.

“Mine,” he mumbled against your skin, “all mine. Did you forget?”

“No,” you sighed, “I could never…”

“That’s not what it looked like,” he sneered, hiking up your long skirt to run his fingers over your skin and expose the delicate, lacy panties you were wearing.

“Bucky, please,” you sighed, rubbing your hips up against his leg, riding his thigh shamelessly.

“What’s got you so worked up, baby? Is it me, or him?” he asked darkly.

“You, baby, just you, nobody else— I’m yours,” you assured him feverishly, “I’m all yours, please, I need you.”

“Yeah?” he breathed, fumbling with his belt and fly as he pulled his growing cock from his suit pants. “You need it that bad?”

“Please,” you sobbed, “fuck me.”

He pulled your underwear aside and quickly shoved into you, groaning at the feeling of your walls stretching to welcome him. “Fuck, angel, so tight,” he sighed, knowing how much little praises drove you crazy.

“Bucky,” you sighed, “oh my god… harder, please— n-need you deeper…”

His hips moved back only to slam back against yours, making you whimper; he smiled when he felt your leg wrap around his waist and try to hold him inside, but he couldn’t slow down now, not when he needed this so bad.

He sucked on your neck as he kept thrusting into you, your wetness coating his cock so thoroughly that he slid right home every time. It was clear that he was hitting your g-spot from how you moaned with each thrust, your spongy channel pulsing and tightening in rhythmic patterns.

Overcome with the need to assert his, for lack of a better word, ownership over you, he found himself reaching up to hold your throat— not quite in the way to choke you, just to remind you that he could, if he wanted to.

“Did he ever make you come like this?” he asked with a gravelly whisper, lips right against your ear as he tightened his hand around your neck slightly.

“No,” you shook your head, “nobody has.”

“Nobody’s ever loved you this good but me, is that it? Nobody else has ever fucked you like this?”

“Just you, Bucky, please don’t stop— I’m so close…”

“Do you think they can hear you out in the hallway? Say my name when you come, princess, just in case they can— I want them to know who’s making you feel this good.”

“Bucky,” you whined, chanting it over and over with a few ‘yes’s and ‘fuck’s interspersed occasionally. He thrusted faster and harder as he felt his own orgasm building; he needed to come inside you and claim you again, mark you as his one more time, and the flexing of your walls was only egging him on.

“I know you’re close, baby, just let go,” he whispered against your ear, “come for me, just like that, you’re doing so good— fuck, so good for me…”

You whimpered and clutched at his shoulders, a gush of wetness and a final, strong tightening of your inner muscles signaling that you’d reached your peak. He couldn’t hold back any longer when he saw (and felt) that, groaning as he began to release thick streams of come into you.

The absolute second your afterglow began to fade, you pushed him off of you and grimaced as you adjusted your panties and dress. "The fuck is wrong with you?"

"Wh— what?" he stammered, breathless and confused. "What did I do? Was I not supposed to come inside?"

You gaped at him in shock. "Do you really not realize what you did? Bucky, you assaulted my ex-boyfriend."

"I— he'll be fine," he dismissed, "he was putting his hands on you, what was I supposed to do, just let him do it?"

"You were supposed to let me handle it," you hissed. "You were supposed to be pulling the car around and not spying on me!"

"Spying?! I was protecting you."

"You shoved him hard enough to knock him over, Bucky, that's not okay."

"Hold on," he shook his head in disbelief, "so you're mad at me, when we just had sex?! Why didn't you say something before?"

"Just cause it's hot doesn't mean it's okay," you explained, a little embarrassed.

"Tell me something," he frowned, "what is this—" he motioned to the space between the two of you— "to you? Cause it kinda seems like I think we're boyfriend and girlfriend, and you think—"

"What? What do I think?" you challenged. "Go ahead, tell me."

"You think it's just a sex thing."

"Oh my god," you rolled your eyes.

"Well, what am I supposed to think when you get off on me dealing with your ex, and then tell me it's this big terrible thing?"

A sick idea clawed its way out of the back of Bucky's mind: was Sam right about her? Was Sam right about us?

You crossed your arms and huffed, but didn't respond.

"Was everything that just happened just a fuckin' kink for you or something? Cause I meant every goddamn word," he growled.

You sighed, like you weren't taking it seriously— like you weren't taking him seriously. His fist tightened at his side involuntarily. He'd never felt so used, so ignored; or, at least, he never expected it from you. "We'll talk about this later," you dismissed quickly. "Let's just go back there and put on a happy face, okay?"

"Oh, so you can let another guy feel you up? Sounds like a fucking blast," he hissed.

"Fuck you," you snarled as you pushed him aside to leave the bathroom.

He didn't remember grabbing you, he didn't remember twisting your arm as he pulled you back. He didn't remember you crying out, trying to wrench yourself away, clawing at his grip on you. All he remembered was you looking up at him with watery eyes, expression twisted in fear.

"Bucky, you're hurting me," you whimpered weakly, and only then did he notice his metal hand was holding your wrist. When he let go, he already saw a mark forming in the shape of his hand as you grabbed your freed wrist to rub the damaged flesh.

"I'm sorry—" he began to whisper, but you were already gone.

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x reader series #bucky barnes x reader smut #bucky barnes smut

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aggressivelyclueless · 3 years

Text

ouija board

in which it gets out of hand. . . but only a little

warnings: v spooky

(heads up this one’s kinda long, whoops lol)

(@qoinq-qhost u were looking for more danny being a lil shit? vvvv)

Sam was just about ready to get the seance rolling. Thundery and weeping outside, candlelight inside - it seemed like a good night for it. This time around, there were four of them: her, of course; Felicity, from third-hour, had brought the board; her bestie Star (who Sam had almost uninvited, as she hadn't been deemed goth enough, but she owed Felicity a favour and letting this slip was it); and Star's boyfriend-of-the-week, Jake (also not goth, and very much on thin ice).

They sat clustered together on the full-moon rug in Sam's room, a jumbo bag of Chex Mix forgotten on the floor by Jake's backpack. Only the little brown bits were left. "You're host," Felicity was saying, scooting up into a proper cross-legged sitting position and centering the board on the carpet between them. She produced the most important piece - the polished wooden planchet - and dropped it into Sam's waiting palm. "You start."

Star opened her mouth, almost thought better of it, and then asked, "Are we going to get a demon?"

"That's not how this works," said Felicity, shooting Sam a look to keep her quiet. Felicity had the tolerance for questions like those, and the patience not to be cross. "We're not summoning demons. We're communing with the dead. There's a difference."

"Is it still going to be scary?"

Sam bit her tongue. With luck, it would be, and she wouldn't have to deal with Star's antics next time, whether they were at her house or not.

"I don't know," said Felicity, "Maybe. We've never done one at this house before. We might not get a ghost at all."

Sam shrugged, setting the puck down in the center of the board and keeping her first two fingers on it. The others scooted closer, getting comfortable, and followed suit. The candleflames throughout the room were perfectly still.

"Is there anyone here with us tonight?"

For a moment: nothing. She glanced up into the empty air, as if she could spot a slinking shadow on the wall or a flickering shape hovering by the ceiling. She couldn't, even though she wanted to.

Then the slight pull of the token under their collective fingers, and the drawn scraping sound as it crawled slowly across the board: YES.

So they weren't going to come up empty tonight. She glanced over at Star, wondering how intense things would get before she'd bail. Sam was certain that, at some point, she would, or maybe she was getting her hopes up. Star didn't exactly look like goth material. All things considered, this was probably the wrong scene for her.

But she had owed Felicity that favour.

"Why are you here, spirit?" Felicity asked, shifting a little in place. Right to the point.

The planchet under their fingers was still. Sam knew the rules better than anyone: if the ghost chose to answer, it would have to tell the truth.

The ghost chose not to.

Star's eyes darted to Felicity, but there was a hesitation before she spoke. When she did, the words were wrung-out and barely there. "Ask him if he's friendly."

"You ask him," said Jake, nudging her with an elbow. Between the four of them, he was the least invested in the endeavor, seeming more bored than anything. He shrugged, trying to scoot his letter jacket a little higher on his shoulders without having to take his fingers off the puck. The jacket refused.

"Okay." Star took a deep breath, turning her eyes back to the board. The planchet, for the time being, rested on YES. "Ghost," she said, somewhat uncomfortable at directly addressing the dead, "Do you mean us harm?"

Immediately, she could feel the wooden puck go cold under her touch. It slid off YES, veered partway across the board, and went still again. The chill at her fingertips vanished.

"Don't like the looks of that," muttered Felicity. "Sam, you think we should call this one off?"

Sam gave it a moment of consideration. "I don't know. Maybe, but not yet. Let me try once." She cleared her throat. "Spirit - will you tell us your name?"

The planchet didn't have to think about it this time. Star could feel the cold tingling in her fingers again as it moved, slowly but deliberately, and spelled out: JAMES. She frowned.

"What's your purpose here, James?" Felicity ventured, but the ghost revealed nothing. The silence stretched on; finally, she sighed. "Doesn't like me much, does he?"

"I don't know," said Star, which she thought sounded better than a flat-out no. It didn't do any good; Felicity was already looking a little put-out, and Star reached up with her free hand and patted her on the shoulder. "Don't feel bad. We still like you plenty, even if that silly ghost doesn't."

Sam fought back a groan of distaste. Whatever Felicity saw in Star, Sam was seeing none of it. She wanted to tune Star out, didn't want to see her so distracted as if communing with the dead was a mere game.

If things started to hit the fan, Sam was sure she'd never want to come again. In fact, she was starting to count on it.

But would provoking the ghost be worth it? "James," she said, still contemplating it, "Why are you here? What is it you're seeking?"

The puck meandered for a moment, as if conflicted. It rested on the empty part of the board between F and S, turned around, and aimed mostly toward H.

That was when Star jerked her hand back, as if the planchet had burned her. All of a sudden she seemed to be paying attention; Sam wondered if she had finally realized what, exactly, they were dealing with. Whether she did or not, it was too late. She'd disrupted the connection.

Sam had never seen it, but she'd heard the stories of what happened at sessions when someone did that.

Every single candle around the room went out at once.

"Star, what the hell," said Felicity, "Remember how earlier I said you couldn't do that - "

Star's already-high-pitched voice was pinched. "Sorry, sorry! It's just it got cold all of a sudden, I thought he wanted me to - "

Sam scowled in the dark. "What are you talking about, no it didn't - "

"It did so! Just now!"

"Oh for fuck's sake, I knew we shouldn't have invited you - "

"Hey, what's that supposed to mean?"

The flash of lightning through the window made the ghost into a spindly and angular silhouette, floating in the air by the glass and jolting Star and Sam both out of their argument. The planchet on the board, still under six fingers but by now forgotten, shot out from under them and flew across the room, bouncing off the side of the desk and skittering somewhere under the bed.

Oh, it was hitting the fan now, all right. "This is your fault," Sam hissed through her teeth, glowering in Star's direction, but already her mind was racing to find a way to appease the disturbed spirit. She'd held plenty of seances before, but generally found audience with lesser or fragmented dead. Only twice had she been forced to close a session early.

Never had she met such an angry spirit before - and not only was it angry, it was in her room.

"Ideas," Felicity snapped, in an effort to keep Sam from boiling over, and in the same effort to keep Star from tears, "What do we do?"

"Run, maybe?" said Jake, but the sharp and thunderous BANG from the walls around them cut him off. His eyes darted to the door, but it slammed itself shut before he could get up to his feet and make his escape.

"Hold on a sec, guys," said Sam, "Jake, sit down, we're not done yet - hang on, I said! I got a flashlight." She groped for her backpack, brushed over one of eight plushy spider feet, and yanked it unceremoniously into her lap. Half-unzipping it, she produced the promised flashlight and clicked it once, twice, a handful of times in quick succession as nothing happened. "Shit. Shit shit shit - "

"There," Star whispered, her eyes fixed on the shadowy side of the room behind the bed. She pointed with one manicured finger, making the rest of them turn to look.

The ghost was only there for an instant, hanging in the air as a smoky and ill-defined shadow against the hazy grey light from the window, but flickered away an instant later. The pounding rain outside almost masked the haunt's staticky and echoing laughter.

Felicity put a hand over Sam's and tried not to squeeze it too hard. Her fingernails dug in a little anyhow. "Do you think we can still close this out?" She didn't sound too hopeful.

"No," said Star, with a sudden and bone-chilling certainty. "He's staying."

Sam looked over at her, agape. How can you know that? she wanted to say, but her mouth had gone dry and she couldn't force it to move. Star's eyes were on her; just for a moment, Sam swore there was a glint of something behind their usual blue-grey, but it was there and gone before she could be sure.

"We're staying," she said again, and this time Sam heard the echo in it, and this time the glint of green in her eyes lingered. The ghost had her, appearing as a dark and swaying wisp in the air behind her, hands on her shoulders, keeping her still and calm. Her eyes - the ghost's seyes - were on Sam, and a sudden, absurd thought struck her:

Isn't James his middle name?

The knot of rising terror in Sam's gut broke, and cold tingling relief poured over her. For a moment she let it, willing the adrenaline to fade and the pounding heartbeat in her ears to settle, and then shifted gears.

That sonofabitch, I'll kill him for this one.

"No, you're not."

Star's head and the shadow's head cocked to one side in unison. "No?"

Sam was locked on the spirit but her voice was directed at Felicity (and Jake, but to a lesser extent). "Come here."

Felicity hesitated. "What, are you serious - ?"

"Come here," Sam snapped, setting her first two fingers on the center of the board, ignoring the fact that the planchet was still misplaced somewhere under the bed.

"I don't like this," Felicity whispered, but followed Sam's lead regardless.

Star's fingers came out and rested gingerly on top, and Sam was certain that, underneath the veneer of shadows, the ghost was smiling.

"You listen to me, James," Sam commanded, with a seriousness that made Felicity and Jake both flinch, "You'd better get out of here."

Star's mouth turned up in a smile. "And why's that?"

"Because if you don't, I'll banish you into next week."

"Sam," Felicity breathed, "I don't think that's such a good idea - "

"I'll do it," Sam reiterated, cutting Felicity off.

The smils on Star's face widened. "Promise?"

Then the fingers on the board were moving, overcome by a pins-and-needles sensation that turned the board to static beneath them, and came to rest solidly over GOOD-BYE.

"See you then. . . "

Sam looked over and Star looked back at her with those big blue eyes. She didn't seem distraught but Sam had to wonder how much of what had happened she'd remember. She'd heard on several occasions that those puppeteered by the dead didn't tend to recall the influence, and Star wasn't horribly upset.

Still - she felt that ghost had crossed a line somewhere. Crashing a seance, fine. Overshadowing at said seance, even if he'd picked the least-favourite attendee?

That didn't sit right.

"You okay, Star?"

Star blinked once, twice, then cocked her head to one side and smiled. "Of course I'm okay," she said, as if she hadn't been overshadowed at all, but the next thing out of her mouth, spoken with the utmost certainty, sent a chill down Sam's spine.

"He wasn't really going to hurt me, you know. He let you win."

- - - -

Sam shut the door as the others left and then rounded on the ghost. "I know you're still here. There's no way you'd dip after a stunt like that."

(Damn right I wouldn't) said the shadowy thing under the bed, hauling himself out of the darkness a moment later. In the light from the ceiling fixture overhead, the shadows fell apart, relenting to his more human texture and shape, and he shook the dustbunnies off once he got up to his feet. In his hand was the forgotten token that went with Felicity's board, and he held it out to her. "This is yours?"

Sam grabbed it from him, and only then did he get the impression that she wasn't entirely happy with him. "You could have given me a heads-up, y'know."

"Hey, I was in the area, thought you could use a hand. For goth cool points, or whatever." Danny shrugged, leaning back and half-sitting on the side of the bed. "I mean they do think you can scare off a real ghost now."

"And what the hell was with you overshadowing Star?" Sam went on, and at last the dopish grin at the corner of Danny's mouth vanished. "So, okay, maybe I didn't want her to come. But that doesn't mean you get to - "

"Wait, wait, hold on," Danny put a hand up in concession, "I didn't - well, I mean I did, but. Listen for a sec, okay? You don't like her, fine. But I think something's up."

"Something's up," said Sam, nonplussed. She crossed her arms, leaning back slightly in the desk chair and making it creak. "You overshadowing people as a joke is what. And whatever you were telling her in there, guess what She remembers it now."

"That's what's up," said Danny impatiently, "I didn't tell her anything."

That made Sam pause. "What?"

"You heard me. But that's not it, let me say something else too. I swear I'm not making this up: she saw me the second I drifted in the window. I'm invisible and she's looking right at me. The whole time. It was like she was watching me."

"Bullshit," said Sam, wanting to believe it was.

Danny shook his head. "You heard what she said. After you banished me into next week."

"That you let me win," Sam recalled slowly. In the moment, it had struck her as dumb-chills naivety on Star's part, but the way that Danny talked made it sound like she was serious. Perhaps she'd just wanted to think that Star was that stupid.

"She knew it, and I didn't tell her. I'm dead serious, Sam, she practically invited me to overshadow her. I didn't even have to go all the way in her. You saw it."

Sam had most definitely seen it. "And what does this mean for the rest of us? Or for you? You're gonna tell me - what, she's going to miraculously guess you're half-ghost too?"

"I don't know - but you saw her the same as I did. She wasn't scared of me. Hell, I gave you guys a name and she was the one that didn't call me by it. Like she knew it wasn't quite right."

"I get it," said Sam, thinking that maybe she would have been just as well off not calling him that either, "But what are we supposed to do about it? Are you saying we should invite her onto the team? Or what?"

Danny sighed, running a hand through his hair and letting it come to rest on the back of his neck. He shrugged helplessly, his gaze picking out dustbunnies and imperfections in the floorboards at his feet. "I don't know yet. Keep an eye on her, maybe. See if she starts saying things. She's not as stupid as she looks, Sam. Low bar, I know, but the last thing I need right now is somebody else to have to watch out for. I know you don't like her. I'm not asking you to."

He met her eyes then, and the earnestness in them struck her.

"Just, don't let that put her in the way, okay?"

#Ectober Month 2021 #Ectoberhaunt 2021 #Ectoberhaunt Trick #danny phantom #fanfiction #ectober

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karmasuna · 3 years

Text

— 𝗮𝗻𝗴𝗲𝗹 𝗵𝗮𝗶𝗿

+ bakugo katsuki. fluff, w/c: 1k

synopsis: for some reason bakugo keeps on growing out his hair. surely it doesn’t have anything to do with your type with guys, right?

“your hair’s getting pretty long, isn’t it?” you say, passing the hair tie to bakugo.

bakugo scoffs, snatching the elastic from you and tying his hair back before returning his attention back to his phone. “whatever. i’ll cut it when i feel like it.”

“bet he’s trying to get with the trends,” uraraka comments, squashed between you and the couch armrest, “i mean, don’t most of the biggest celebrities have long-ish hair these days?”

you hum in realization, mind flitting to your favorite idols. “oh, you’re right. most of the ones i like have long hair. i didn’t even notice.”

the brunette’s eyes go wide at your epiphany, waggling her eyebrows curiously.

“is your type perhaps long haired guys, my dear friend?”

you shrug, pensive. “i’ve ever really thought about it,” you confess. “i don’t exactly have a type, i think, but if you put it that way then i guess that might be true.”

uraraka whoops, nearly whacking you in the face with her arm. “one step closer to getting you a boyfriend!”

frantically you try to shush her before any of your classmates get to hear even more unwanted information about your nonexistent love life.

“it’s not like long hair is a must,” you hiss quietly, sneaking a glance at the blonde on the other side of the room. he seems oblivious to your ongoing conversation, much to your relief.

“ohhh,” the girl mumbles quietly when you turn back to look at her. “i get it now. did you get your awakening because he’s growing his hair out-”

“stop talking, please stop talking,” you plead, embarrassment flooding through you as you grab a cushion and chuck it at her. she lets out a grunt in pain as it hits her square in the face with pinpoint accuracy.

˚✧₊⁎

bakugo shifts in his seat uncomfortably, glad you’re too caught up in the moment to notice the flush in his cheeks and the fact that he’d caught every word in your conversation.

˚✧₊⁎

“bakugo, are you growing your hair out?” you ask a week later while you’re preparing dinner, after he shakes his hair out of his eyes for the nth time in the last ten minutes.

“not really.”

I\it doesn’t look comfortable to have hair constantly falling into his eyes as he chops the vegetables. your spaghetti won’t burn itself if you leave it to boil on itself for a few minutes, you decide, putting down your spatula and quickly rinsing your hands before making your way over to the blonde.

“bend down a little,” you tell him, beckoning him closer. it’s obvious he has questions about your intent, but with the sauce sizzling away at the stove he really has no choice but to let you quickly do your thing and return back to cooking.

reaching up, you gather up his bangs and tie it up, careful not to pull too hard and hurt him. he smells nice, you think to yourself, clean from his post-workout shower and filling your head with the scent.

satisfied with your work, you let go of his hair with a playful flick at the small tail. “all done,” you say proudly, stepping back to let him stand back up. “that feel better?”

bakugo furrows his brows, seemingly unused to having his forehead out in the open. all you get is a small grunt in response before he turns back to the stove.

“you should cut your hair if it’s getting annoying, you know,” you say teasingly, “unless you’re growing it out to impress someone or something. don’t seem like something you’d do though.”

while you’re busy draining the water from the noodles you don’t notice the way the blonde’s eyes widen ever so slightly at your words. he’s quiet for another moment, mind scrambling to come up with something that won’t make him sound like a straight up creep to you.

“you think i should cut it off then?” he asks after a while, moving the pan from the heat and coming over to help with dishing the pasta.

“if it’s uncomfortable, yeah,” you muse nonchalantly, “since you look good either way.”

it takes a few seconds for you to realize what you just said but apparently the boy isn’t as oblivious as you are, giving you a weird side glance.

“i swear i wasn’t trying to hit on you! that’s not what i meant!” you yell frantically after realizing the implications of your words. bakugo doesn’t seem to be convinced, and all you get is an amused snort.

“oh really? that’s a shame,” he shoots back, arm bumping against yours gently as you pass the plate to him.

“i can’t tell if you’re being serious.” it’s pretty unusual for the blonde to joke around but even more strange for him to be honest about his feelings for once.

“if you want it to be,” he says quietly, eyeing you carefully for your reaction.

you can’t stop the silly grin that creeps its way onto your face, giddy at the fact that he’s being so uncharacteristically cute only in front of you.

“i’m gonna have to think about that,” you say in all mock seriousness. “can’t go making important decisions on an empty stomach.”

the way you lean into his side in affirmation tells a different story, and he tenses up for a split second before shifting to face you a little more.

“you’re not getting food until i get an answer,” he retorts, hint of a smile evident in his tone. “can’t have you go hungry, yeah?”

“you have a point there. guess i’ll have to say yes then.”

˚✧₊⁎

“how’d you even know i liked long hair on guys?”

you’re running your fingers through your boyfriend’s freshly cut hair, marveling at how different the length feels.

“you’re obsessed with those emo mullet boys from that goth group. anyone could figure it out,” he says, unmoving from his position lying on your legs.

“i see,” you say slowly.

“also, round face isn’t exactly the quietest of people.”

“dammit.”

bakugo laughs at your quiet huff, pressing into your touch as you scratch at his scalp gently.

“i still think you’re real cute though. you’d be cute even if you were bald.”

“yeah? wanna test that out?”

“nooo. your hair smells too nice,” you whine, too comfortable to feel embarrassed admitting it. he snorts loudly, pressing a kiss to your palm.

“whatever you say, angel.”

#bnha #bnha scenarios #bnha imagines #bnha fluff #bakugou headcanons #katsuki bakugo x reader #bakugo katsuki x reader #bakugou x reader #mha imagines #mha headcanons

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ejcaswelll · 3 years

Note

(lovingly) holding u at knife point and demanding more abt the season 1 au where Ricky doesn't join the musical

this is exactly the kind of gentle threat i need in my life, thank you 🥰

god i love this fic. it’s so tropey, i’m just gonna say that right out of the gate, like it’s really just an amalgamation of all the caswen romcom high school tropes i wanted to see in the world. for one, this fic has pining ej which is my absolute bread and fucking butter like if there’s anything i know in my heart, it’s that ej would fall first, thank you for your time. crucially, this fic also has oblivious ricky, which is actually SO hard to write because i do think ricky is a pretty perceptive person but like. i needed him to be a little fool so ej could be extra flirty without the jig being up too fast. this isn’t a slow burn exactly but it’s like. a simmer. a rolling boil, if you will. anyways you literally didn’t ask for any of this so here’s the snippet you came for!

“I’m EJ,” Caswell says and Ricky almost says I know before realizing how a) fucking weird that would be, and b) not wanting to add to Caswell’s already overinflated ego.

Faced with difficult choices, Ricky tends to pick whatever the funniest option is, so he just decides to pretend he has no idea who EJ Caswell is.

“Cool,” Ricky says, keeping his expression neutral. “Are you a junior?”

Everyone knows he’s a senior, including Ricky, but god is it worth the look on Caswell’s face.

“Am I a— no, I— I’m a senior,” Caswell fumbles out, looking completely thrown.

Ricky keeps his face blank, nodding like this is all brand new information. He overhears Nini’s voice again and turns to watch her belt her little lungs out on stage.

“Yeah, Nini!” he whoops and the drama teacher levels a glare at him. He lifts his palms in a my bad gesture. Nini rolls her eyes at him on stage and he sees Kourtney mouth idiot at him in the seethingly disdainful way that she only seems to reserve for him.

When he turns back to Caswell, it’s to find him already staring Ricky down, eyes sharp. Ricky swallows nervously and has to restrain himself from straightening up out of his lazy sprawl again the wall.

“So, are you and Nini…?” Caswell asks, trailing off meaningfully and raising his eyebrows.

“Oh, no— not like that,” Ricky blurts, and then immediately regrets giving Caswell a free pass to hit on Nini. Ugh.

Caswell smiles, eyes lighting up with it in a way that Ricky’s sure all the freshman girls swoon over.

“Cool,” Caswell says and Ricky imagines he’s thinking of all the terrible little pick up lines he can use on Nini. Or maybe EJ Caswell’s the kind of guy who doesn’t need pick up lines, maybe he just knows exactly what to say and when to say it. He doesn’t seem like someone who’d have to try hard at all, with anything.

Nini, Ricky thinks despairingly, please do not fall for this asshole.

Ricky feels his phone buzz in his pocket and pulls it out to tap out a quick back and forth with Big Red about hitting the skate park tomorrow.

Vaguely he can sense Caswell shifting next to him. “Hey, so,” Caswell starts, “I never got your na—“

“Ricky!” Nini yells, entirely too loud and entirely too excited. “Never come here early again, I could feel your judgy little stare from the back of the room!”

Ricky grins, pocketing his phone. “Someone’s gotta keep you humble, Neen,” Ricky tells her, patting her condescendingly on the head. She swats at his hand.

“Bold words from her number one fanboy,” Kourtney drawls, coming up beside them. She glances over Ricky’s shoulder and he suddenly remembers Caswell behind him.

“EJ, Miss Jenn wanted to run over a couple things with you before tomorrow,” Kourtney tells him.

“Oh— yeah, okay,” Caswell says, in a tone that sounds kind of resigned. Weirdo, he’s the one who signed up to all this.

Caswell moves to leave and Ricky has to steady himself from stumbling back a little, at how close he brushes, the heat of him seeping through Ricky’s hoodie.

“See you around, Ricky,” Caswell says as he passes him. Up close, Ricky can see his eyes are green instead of the blue he’d always assumed.

Ricky doesn’t realize he’s watched Caswell walk all the way up to Miss Jenn until he turns to find both Nini and Kourtney squinting at him.

“What?” he asks.

“Hm,” is all Kourtney says before she bumps past him to stride out the auditorium doors.

Ricky turns back to Nini, whispers, “I know I’ve said this before, but Kourtney terrifies me.”

“As she should,” Nini says solemnly and then reaches up to jingle her keys in his face. “First one to the car gets the aux cord.”

#the way i copypasted this into the ask and was immediately like ‘oh i hate this actually’ lmaoooooo #mine: writing

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starfast · 3 years

Text

So you want to write an autistic character

So I watched the trailer for Sia’s movie just to see if it really was that bad. Spoiler alert: Yes it is. It made me feel like Sia was making fun of me for two and a half minutes. But it also made me really fucking angry because there’s not autism representation to begin with, and most of what we do have isn’t really that great, which is what drove me to make this post. I don’t have many followers so even if like 3 people see this, then at least that’s 3 people who have seen this.

What would I like to see less of

Literally incapable of detecting sarcasm: “Wait,” you say, “But Starfast, there are autistic people out there who are like this!” Sure, there might be, but for me personally detecting sarcasm is a lot less difficult than literally every autistic character has made it out to be. Yes, there are times where it goes right over my head but those times are usually when there’s not enough context for me to figure out whether the person is being sarcastic or not. Some of us actually are able to tell when you’re being sarcastic, it usually depends on context.

The “Sheldon Cooper”: Autism is really diverse and yet I feel like 99% of autistic characters are basically all just carbon copies of Sheldon Cooper from BBT. They’re maybe overly formal, blunt, or have a hard time picking up social cues. And while these are all things that are commonly associated with autism (although this type of character rarely shows any major downsides to having autism, more on that later), like I said earlier, autism is different for everyone. Not all of us are going to feel represented by this type of character. Honestly I don’t even relate to a lot of autistic characters because they just keep reusing the same autistic stock characters and that’s really disheartening to me. It’s almost like they’re not making autistic characters for autistic people.

The Burden: This probably doesn’t need to be explained that much but it was the one thing that really pissed me off about S**’s movie. In the trailer, I really got the very distinct impression that the older sister saw Music as a burden. Her life was just oh so difficult because she had this autistic sister. No one wants to be thought of that way. And idk if you neurotypicals know this but autistic people have feelings and we hear it loud and clear when you say these kinds of things and it hurts.

Using autism as a punchline: I think it’s fine to have an autistic character to provide comic relief, BUT! if your comic relief involves laughing at an autistic character’s very autistic behaviour then you’re doing it wrong. This kind of goes back to my first point- the reason why I hate seeing the “incapable of detecting sarcasm” character is because it’s almost exclusively played for laughs. Please stop making fun of us.

What would I like to see more of

Diversity: I feel like this doesn’t really need much explaining. Autism can affect anyone regardless of age, race, gender, sexuality, etc. And yet most autistic characters I’ve encountered are straight white guys. Let’s see more girls, more POCs, more LGBT+ who are autistic.

Obvious drawbacks/struggles: When I talked about the Sheldon Cooper-type character I mentioned that this type of character doesn’t really seem to face many challenges that are directly related to autism. What I mean by this is that sometimes they’ll maybe just miss the odd social cue and it’s kinda embarrassing but it rarely gets worse than that. An autistic character is going to face challenges that a neurotypical won’t ever have to deal with and if you don’t acknowledge that then you’re not really properly portraying an autistic character. Show more autistic characters struggling to make friends, having meltdowns or experiencing sensory overload, having a hard time articulating themselves. The list goes on, honestly.

Actually saying it: Have you ever seen it where there’s a certain character and a bunch of people go “hey, that character seems like they could be [insert literally any minority] and then the creator goes “Oh, yeah that’s totally what I intended!” I personally don’t really like this, because it feels kind of disingenuous. If you’re going to write an autistic character, it would be nice to have that brought up within the story. Autism isn’t a dirty word, you’re allowed to say it. The only exception I can think of would be if you’re writing a historical fiction or some other setting where autism hasn’t been recognized but most examples I can think of don’t fall into that category whoop there it is.

Literally just anything that isn’t a stereotype. This seems to be setting the bar pretty low, but it still needs to be said. Autism looks different for everyone and just because someone doesn’t fit the mold for a stereotypical autistic person doesn’t mean they’re not autistic. No one wants to be represented by a stereotype.

“I’m not autistic but I want to write an autistic character. Can I do that?”

I can’t speak for the entire autistic community when I answer this but my opinion is yes, it’s ok provided that you’re being respectful and doing research beyond reading symptoms off of WebMD. That being said, here’s my final advice:

Listen and talk to autistic people: If you’re not listening to the group you’re trying to represent then you’re not doing a good job. There are lots of people here out there who would be willing to answer your questions or be a sensitivity reader. There’s a lot of people here on tumblr who are willing to answer your questions (you can even ask me, but I’m just one person and I don’t have all the answers. I’d recommend talking to multiple people).

Autism Speaks is not your friend: There’s been a lot of talk about why this organization sucks, but it mostly boils down to trying to end autism and not actually helping us. So make sure you’re steering clear of them while you’re doing your research.

Reddit and Quora are actually great resources: Reason being is that these kinds of sites will give you lots of first hand information about being autistic, and that’s the best kind of information to have, usually. Most sites will just list symptoms, but the right reddit/quora thread will provide more insight about how these symptoms affect their daily life. Additionally, you’ll have multiple people offering their own views and since autism is so different for everyone it’s good to have more than one person’s opinion (psst... this tip works for writing other minority characters too!)

#writing advice #autism #actually autistic #writing #autistic characters #thank you for coming to my TED talk

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getyouasenju · 3 years

Text

Stop Signs

Word Count: 2.4k

Warnings: Angst, profanity, Suggestive, thats it <3

There are two other parts to this fic, but this can be a standalone, the other parts could be as well!

Part 1: “Drivers License”

Part 2: “Red Lights”

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"So, you two are... just friends now?"

Hinata hesitantly asked, quickly glancing back and forth between myself and the man sitting beside me. We all sat at the usual hang out spot, our favorite ice cream shop. Tucked away sitting at an adorable table by the window, with a new guest joining us of course, Shikamaru. I happily dig my spoon into my ice cream before replying, "Yep," popping the 'p' at the end. "We were friends before we dated, what's the difference now?" shoving the spoon into my mouth and shrugging my shoulders. I hear Shikamaru sigh beside me and I throw him a questioning glance.

"Oh give me a break! You two just friends? Oh please." Sakura laughs out, Hinata and Ino holding their own back snickers. I glance away from my ice cream, raising my brow at my friend. "Didn't Rock Lee have a crush on you? and aren't you two still friends though?" I tease back at her, pointing my spoon in her direction. Her eyes widen as she scrunches her nose, her face turning a slight shade of pink. "Well yeah- but it was one sided, we never dated! You guys were in love, and you two would basically make out in front of the whole village!” My eyes widened as I felt my cheeks warm up, Shikamaru let out an annoyed groan from beside me.

"W-what? no we didn't! right Shikamaru? we kept our intimate mome-" He cuts me off with a harsh glare as he speaks up, "Must we speak about these kinds of things with such an audience? It's so embarrassing.." He sighs out. I rolled my eyes, "Hey! I was just saying!" I defended, turning towards him while grabbing a napkin from the middle of the table. Ino quickly examines the both of us before speaking, "So- this is what you two agreed on? Just being friends again? This is what you guys want?" She questioned. I finish wiping my mouth as I smiled before replying,

"Yes"

"No"

My smile immediately drops as my head snaps to Shikamaru and I furrow my brows at him, but he refuses to look at me. I look down at my cup, suddenly my favorite ice cream didn't taste so good right now. I jumped as Shikamaru abruptly stood from the table. He pushed his chair back and exited the shop, the little bells on the door ringing on his way out. My heart dropped as I watched the door close, my mouth hanging open slightly. The table was silent at the outburst. I looked at the three girls before setting my cup down and rushing after him. I burst out the door, looking around until I spotted him leaning against the side of the building, cigarette in hand. I frowned as I walked up to him. "I thought you we trying to quit." I asked him quietly. He let out a humorless laugh and to be honest, I was a little afraid of where this was going.

"Well I've had a lot of stress these days." He spits at me, taking a long drag of his cigarette, blowing out a big cloud. It almost felt as if he was doing it to spite me and I knew he was talking about me. I wave my hand by my face, annoyed at him. "Shikamaru, just stop it- please? I'm sorry If I embarrassed you in there, Sakura was just exaggerating back there- she didn’t mean any harm, you know that. I don't think we were that bad." I let out a nervous laugh as I peered up at him. He throws the cigarette bud on the ground, stomping it out as he shook his head scoffing. "Yeah, it was a drag listening to her commenting on something so private, but do you really think that's what I'm upset about?" I open and close my mouth several times and still nothing comes out. "Shikamaru I'm sorry I-"

He shook his head at me, still refusing eye contact with me, and I immediately stopped speaking. He turns to me, "You know what (Y/N)? I'm the one that’s sorry. I'm so fucking sorry that It's not as easy for me, as it is for you to just be friends. God, I'm so fucking in love with you that I'd do anything to just be close to you for two seconds and it's killing me." He lets out a scoff, “And you know what? I’ll keep coming back to you every single time- it’s pathetic really.” I looked at him in disgust. Easy for me?, oh no- he doesn’t get to say that to me. "So everything is just my fault? Okay, I'm willing to take the blame, but i’m not willing to have the same argument with you every week. I tried to be cordial, I tried to go back to being friends." Finally catching his eyes I continued, "I miss my best friend." I whispered. He made eye contact with me, slightly glaring down at me. “And I miss my girlfriend.”

I exhaled loudly through my mouth. “So what? You’re gonna pick a fight with me everyday until we get back together?” I questioned him, “Because that’s healthy right? That’s what exactly I want in a relationship, huh Shikamaru? You can’t bully me into getting back together!” He rolled his eyes, digging around in his pocket for what I assumed was another cigarette. I reach out and to touch his hand as he snatches it back. I let out a huff of air, “What do you want from me!” I shout at the hard-headed man. Is being his friend not enough for him? How fucking selfish could he be. He looked taken back at my shouting, but quickly recovers taking a step towards me.“I want you to trust yourself for one fucking time.” I dropped my shoulders in confusion. “Shikamaru..” I start, but he swiftly cuts me off stepping forward to reach out for me. “What do I have to do to fix this? I can’t just be friends with you (Y/N). I have to fix this, let me fix this.” He desperately rushes out. As I allowed him to embrace me, I was silent while I was still stuck on his previous statement as I sat there wrapped in his warmth. Trust yourself... for once in your life.

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“Is your arm numb yet?”

I giggled as I let the question slip out my mouth. We laid in a grass field, he absolutely whooped me in Shogi so we spent the day his way, cloud watching of course. We laid on our backs, my head resting on his arm, the other behind his head as we relaxed. It was a warm day with just the right amount of wind. “Hmmm?...” He slowly lets out, eyes still close. Aren’t we supposed to be watching the clouds? It’d been a week since the incident at the ice cream shop, and as of right now- we were still just friends much to his dismay. His words still repeated through my mind every single day... and the fact that he still owes me a scoop of ice cream from his dramatic exit..

Suddenly He rolls his body to face me, bringing one had to my waist, the one behind my head curling up to stroke my cheek. I closed my eyes, basking in his touch. “Friends don’t do this, Shikamaru.” I warned. He smirked at me, “Really? Must be such a drag for the friends that miss out on doing this.” He leans in and connects our lips, and my hands finding the way to his hair. It almost was like a reflex for me, muscle memory, and I allowed him to take control without a second question. He pulls back with that look in his eyes. “Absolutely not, Nara.” I fuss at him. He gave me a sly smile, “Of course not, at least not out here.” My cheeks flushed as I swatted him away from me. ”Maybe Sakura was right about us.” I let out with a groan. “Us?” He slickly asked. I wanted to wipe that shit eating grin off his face. “You know what I meant.” I waved him off, but he grabs my hand and intertwined our fingers. Leaning back, attempting to pull me back down with him again, but I resisted.

He raised a brow at me, releasing me and bringing both arms to the back of his head, letting out a sigh. “What’s wrong now?” He sincerely asks. I huff, looking down at my hands, my mind killing me. “Shikamaru?” I let out quietly. He sat back up, groaning at the movement but becoming completely serious at my tone. “You can tell me anything (Y/N).” I could feel his eyes on the side of my head. I pick at my nail beds as my question boiled over in my mind.

“What happens when I get insecure?”

I said it so quietly that I feared I’d have to repeat it again. It was silent for a little before he spoke to me again. “What.. what do you mean?” He says, seemingly confused at the statement. “You said you want to be together- right? That I’m an easy choice for you, but am I really that easy?” I bring my hands to my face. “So what happens when I get insecure? When I think I’m not good enough for you, or that you’re better off without me, huh? We just break up again?” I frantically turn my head to him, anxiously searching for an answer. He was silent and that was enough for me. “See? This is why we can’t work Shikamaru.” I move to stand up, wanting to get away from the conversation when he reached out and placed a hand on my knee, halting my actions.

“Don’t run from me, It’d be troublesome for me to have to run after you- but I will.” I stiffened, nervous to be in under his touch. We sat in this position for what seemed like forever. “Then you tell me, and we work through it.” He says softly, turning to meet my eyes. I furrow my brows, a bit confused, “What?” He moves his hand to grab mine. “You said what happens if you get insecure. If somehow you think you aren’t good enough for me, or If you godforsaken- thought that I would ever be better off without you.” He shakes his head at the thought of me ever thinking those things. “(Y/N), you see- we do work, but we have to work together. You can’t hide these things- these feeling from me. You have to trust me- trust yourself. You can tell me anything, there is nothing that I am not willing to do for you- for this relationship. You just need to be honest with me- give me the chance to help you. If I ever make you feel that way, you need to tell me.” He brings his hand up to hold my face.

“Promise me that you’ll tell me when you feel this way. We can make this work. I promise, let me in.”

“I wanted to tell you, I just.. I thought that one day you just woke up and realized you didn’t want to be with someone like me, and I didn’t blame you for it.” I whispered, looking at him through my lashes. He looked at me, heartbroken to hear my thoughts as he shook his head, moving closer to me. “Who wouldn’t want to be with someone like you? I wish you could see yourself the way I see you, I wanna spend the rest of my life showing you that you deserve everything

I place both my hand over the one he had on my cheek, melting into his embrace. “Okay.” I whispered with a smile. “Okay? Like, we’re back together ‘okay’?” Shikamaru asks me, I could hear the smirk in his voice. “I wanna hear you say it.” I rolled my eyes. “Geez, if anything I should make you ask me out again for wasting my ice cream the other day...” I start, not being serious when he quickly spoke out to me, “(Y/N), will you be my girlfriend again? Emphasis on the relationship aspect, not the friend part.” He teases me. I blushed as I was the one reaching for his face this time. “I was always yours.” He gave me that famous smirk again before crashing his lips onto mine again. After kissing me until I saw stars instead of clouds, we pull apart both smiling hard. “Well.. want to go have our ‘intimate moments’ back at my place?” He winks at me, teasing me for my words last week.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah.. after you replace my ice cream, loser.”

“Of course.” He smiled wildly at me, wrapping his arm around me and promptly pulling me back into the grass. “You know, my parent have been pestering when they’d see you again, especially my mother.” He mumbles out the last bit. My face scrunches up in response and I deadpanned when It hit me. “You didn’t tell them we were broken up did you?” He sighed and looked at me sheepishly, “It would have been so troublesome to explain that- besides, I never planned on letting you go in the first place. It would’ve just been too confusing and not worth the nagging.” He plainly stated. “Oh, so you were so sure we were gonna get back together, huh?” I teased the Nara. He lets out a short chuckle,

“Yeah... I’ll be stuck to you like your shadow.”

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This was the final addition the my “Drivers License” Fic! It was so hard to finish because for a week tumblr wouldn’t let me type of this doc!!!! I’m so happy to finish it, I wish it was out quicker- but it was out of my control. I’ve had this draft for two weeks!!!! anyways, Love ya! also feel free to let me know if there are any grammar issues! :)

Masterlist

Until Next Time! xxo (▰∀◕)ﾉ

#Naruto #Naruto Imagines #Naruto Imagine #Imagine #Naruto Fanfiction #Naruto x Reader #Shikamaru Nara #Shikamaru #Shika #shikamaru imagine #Shikamaru nara imagine #Shika imagine #shikamaru x reader #Shikamaru fanfiction #Shikamaru nara fanfiction

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interact-if · 3 years

Note

Umm hi 👉👈 I realized that most of the asks you guys get are about games and rec lists. You guys deserve so much recognition for the work you put in this blog, so I wanted to ask if I can do a little get-to-know-the-mods thing? If that's okay!

1. Besides writing, what are your hobbies?

2. Do you have a niche interest right now?

3. Any fave songs/artists/bands?

4. Any fave movies/tv shows?

5. On a scale of 1-10, how likely would you survive in your wip's world?

You can totally ignore this if you guys want, no pressure. Anyway, much love to all the interact-if mods! You guys are incredible! ❤

We saw this ask and we went 👀 👀 👀 so we’re happy to answer! Thank you so much for the fun ask!

We also rated our survivability in all of our collective games, since Mars isn't an author! Fun stuff! Spoilers, though: it’s really not looking so great for me (Dani) but that’s fine!!! 😌

1. I’m a photographer as well as a graphic artist (but not like. A painter/drawer kind of artist!) and, on a general level, a maker and a tinkerer!

2. Fountain pens! I only write with ink, and only with fountain pens, and I use bottled inks/converters!

3. I’m pretty eclectic with music, but my top genres are alt rock, indie, indie pop, etc, as well as top 40s and some rap.

4. I feel like this is the hardest one for me to answer? Favorite movies/shows? Avatar: the Last Airbender has been a favorite show of mine since I was a little kid, but I have a harder time thinking of shows I would call a favorite in recent years. There are shows I’ve liked, and a lot of shows I’ve watched. But I’m picky! And demanding! It takes a lot to earn a place in Dani’s Trophy Case of Favorites. 😌 I would say I quite liked A Quite Place (movie), and I liked Us (movie). When it comes to TV shows, I have a hard time being pleased with them if they don’t end well. As a result, I have a penchant for a good limited series/miniseries (because they’re stories that have an end in mind and the plot reflects that, dagnabbit).

5. Heh. Okay.

In The Goodfellows? I think I stand I chance. I can exercise my sparkling wit and lovable personality to the best effect. I’m gonna give myself an 8/10 survivability rating. Even if I don’t have the right skills, I can go crying to the person who does and they’ll save me. Maybe.

In Creatures’ Cradle? I’m super $**!%d. 😌 1/10 survivability rating. And that 1 is me being nice to myself. The day the apocalypse breaks out I would probably be patient 0. I am self-aware. I would not do well in an apocalypse. Zombies care not for aforementioned sparkling wit and lovable personality, and I have all the muscle of a boiled spaghetti noodle. So it’s a no go.

Greater Than Gods (Cruz): Well. I’m going to be optimistic. And say that I have the wisdom not to do things I shouldn’t do and not to rock boats I shouldn’t rock. I’m going to give myself a 7/10 based on insider information, but also based on reckless optimism!

Vardir (Cruz): Cruz says this is a lighthearted game, so 10/10 LOL.

When it Hungers (Roast): I’m giving myself a nice, mediocre 5/10. I think I could put my mind to work here; I joke that I’m the village idiot, but I’m actually pretty smart! Unfortunately, I’m also curious, and maybe a little bad with authorities who won’t answer my questions. So I knocked off a lot of points due to the fact that I’d probably poke the metaphorical bear. So it’s a real coin flip as to whether I’d really make it or not.

Orthall Bay (Nines): Considering the genre is “horror” and the game intro includes the words “monster” and “maim,” I’m giving myself a whooping, enthusiastic 3/10. Yes, folks, I am that confident in myself! Once again, I can’t charm the socks off a monster (or can I?), so one of my greatest weapons is snatched from beneath my feet. Alas!

1. Beloved I’m a college student in the middle of a pandemic... i can hardly even write LOL i do draw at times which u can see in my personal blog (nothing too good really) and i used to do karate before things went to shit <3

2. Nothing niche I believe? All I do is leave Netflix as bg noise every day n play popular videgames (genshin)

3. Porter Robinson <3 I love Bea Miller a lot as well but lately I’ve been feeling Porter a lot

4. The Good Place <3

5. My WIPs:

Greater than Gods: Highly situational, the world GtG is set in is as broad as the real world LOL so I don’t have an universal answer. But keeping it vague, and knowing my own personality, I feel like 5/10. depends on my luck.

Vardir: 10/10 no one dies in Vikgade, unless you’re a hunter but I wouldn’t be a hunter <3

Others’ WIPs

I'm gonna give myself a solid 5/10 in all other WIPs because y'all aren't writing lighthearted stories either. I feel like as long as I avoid the role of the MC I will be mostly fine. I hope. But as Dani said I'm also prone to fight the wrong person and dig my own grave so 😌

1. Well, writing is a very, very, very, distant hobby since Words Hard, but I like to crochet and sculpt a little! Anything to do with fiddling with my hands and I’m good to go. And like, debatable but graphic design is my passion [insert clown emoji here since Tumblr said No]

2. Oh yeah a bunch! DnD yelling at people, thinking of arson, crocheting, rock climbing and simply vibing. I got into podcasts a few years ago and I’m always looking for more recs, so if you have some, hmu 😤

3. Pls,,,,my music taste is,,,so weird do not let me expose myself with lack of consistency but uhh. Current songs that are stuck in my head include; Cult of Dionysus , Achilles Come Down and The Last Shanty

4. If you’ve ever spoken to me before, I probably yelled about Pacific Rim to you or at you. Plus I love all The Mummy films and really enjoyed Castlevania (s3 excluded, we do not perceive that) as well!

5. Ah, mod survival simulator pt. 3

Alright, let’s go! I don’t have a WIP because again, words hard, but like, considering how feral I am when not tryna seem professional hm...

The Goodfellows: I wanna say a solid 7/10 because I’d hardcore vibe with the Traveler and probably instigate so much nonsense. I can also bribe with blueberry cake so maybe.

Creature’s Cradle: maybe a 4/10 and only because of pure spite keeping me alive long enough to smack someone. I’ve prepared for hypothetical zombie apolcapyses and I won’t hesitate to bap, but will be bapped back because I’m weak as hell.

Greater Than Gods: a toss up between 2/10 and 7/10! I can vibe and be chill but I also have terrible impulse control so...

Vardir: hm....I think pretty good survival rates all around? If you ask me to fight then like, okay sure, your knees are mine. So maybe a 8/10?

When it Hungers: .......8/10 just because I’d refuse to die if I can be a cool creature. Living for the aesthetic can and will drag me outta hell. But I’m also clumsy as hell so I’d probably crash as a porcelain or hold a rooster and perish (aka, real rating is a good 3/10)

Orthall Bay: 2/10, nope. Nope I’d be taken out in a heartbeat. Monsters can go pspsps and I’d head straight into the dark creepy forest like a fool if someone comes @ me. Half the time I’ll just assume it’s sfx makeup and vibe until it’s too late.

god, never put me in a universe where I cannot squawk like a bird and throw pebbles from a window. Oof

Anon, you're so sweet! I give you a forehead smoomch <333 As for your questions...

1. If I'm not writing, I'm usually watching video essays on Youtube. My go-to channels as of right now is Disrupt and Aperture! I just really like their videos. Aside from that, I recently got into podcasts. Currently going through Hello From The Hallowoods and Shelter and Warning, which are made by queer creators!

2. Oh oof, there's quite a bit so I'm just gonna put down one thing. For some reason, I really got into collecting tiny astronaut things? I recently bought this astronaut desk light, and I've got a package coming in for the miniatures I ordered. No purpose for them other than I think they're neat <3

3. I'm a bit private with my music taste (even tho I have Spotify connected on Discord lmao), but there's 5 songs that I'm currently obsessed with. I keep replaying them over and over again. Just squeezing all the serotonin I could get outta them.

4. I can't really say I have a fave TV show or movie because I can't really just pick one, but my current fave is 9-1-1 and Resident Alien. 9-1-1 because I just really love the found-family dynamics and how the show tackles sensitive topics, and Resident Alien because it's lighthearted comedy. My all-time fave movie is Flipped! I have the book too and I like rereading from time to time <3

5. You're in for a doozy, anon, because we're rating each other's games <333

The Goodfellows: 7/10

Listen. Shenanigans with the Traveler. I would get up to so many of them and that is what'll get me possibly bodied, not the actual environment itself <3

Greater than Gods: 7/10

I like to think I have enough common sense to uhhh not recklessly flip stones that should not be flipped <3 I'm a cautious and skeptic person irl so I think I'll hold up well? Then again, it's a vast environment change and while I can adapt pretty quick, I wouldn't like the lack of control in the unknown.

Vardir: 10/10

Going off what Cruz said, Vardir is lighthearted and focused on personal growth so I think I'll be okay! Self-growth here I come, babey!

Creatures' Cradle: 8/10

Maybe I'm overestimating myself, but I think I'll be able to survive in a supernatural post-apocalyptic world! Ah, but it depends on the motivation though. I like the idea of rebuilding communities and eventually societies, but the survival turmoil would be a constant battle I'd have to overcome. If we're talking survival itself though, I think I'll do well.

When it Hungers: 8/10

That's probably my wishful thinking but I think I'll be fine. Maybe. Possibly. Don't like the idea of being regulated by an organization so if I was a non-human creature that could pose a problem but I can roll with it <3

Orthall Bay: 6/10

Assuming I'm not playing as MC, my chances of survival uhhh changes quite drastically. Not enough to guarantee an untimely demise, but certainly enough that it would constantly keep me on my toes. I think that's the safest answer I can get without spoiling anything lmao

Thank you so much for asking! It's super sweet of you <3

1. Too many :'D I knit, I sew, I do carpentry (well, learning), I bake, I'm hammering away at HTML and CSS, my job kind of encourages learning new things and I take that to picking up new hobbies!

2. My time is kind of consumed with school work and work work and WIP work so not a lot of time to pursue niche interests right now. I've been watching a lot of horror game playthroughs, true crime youtubers, and an adorable show on Netflix called the Repair Shop <3

3. My taste in music is "what am I vibing with atm?" I've been listening to a lot of 80's music atm (don't @ me), but also Lo Fang and Kaleo, and whatever spotify recommends me on my discover weekly which is usually complete chaos.

4. I love the Mummy even though it hasn't aged 100% well (I'm a librarian, of course it's one of my gotos LOL), Legally Blonde, Leverage, Jumanji (the original), I'm....very bad at having recent tastes... and very bad at remembering my favorites when asked.

The Goodfellows: I'm a creature of comfort, 5/10 if I can just luxuriate in town and not actually interact with the story sfjkdbsdkf

Creature’s Cradle: I'd like to think I have a 50/50 shot XD 5/10, I want to think I'd be decent at a zombie apocalypse but ultimately would suffer an early fate.

Greater Than Gods: 10/10 if I'm just vibing, less so if I'm involved in the actual story XD

Vardir: I'd still suffer without technology but I can also knit for a living in this world so I'm down 8/10

When it Hungers: I feel like I could vibe here, there's tech if dated, hot showers, telephones are around by now... might still get bored. 7/10 though it'd be cool to be another creature....I should make a 'what creature of snv are you' quiz!

Orthall Bay: 7/10 idk I feel like after the first monster of the week I'd just skip town XDDDD I'm the worst protagonist, I see danger I just leave.

#mod talk #long post #interact if: asks

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