#sequins squeaks

[sequintial]

Actually, I AM going to edit my reblog to add my thoughts. THIS is what allowed me to unlock true relaxation. This is what I think about to help unlock me from "I have to play video games NOW because I CAN'T LATER so I have to fit in ALL THE FUN I CAN NOW NOW NOW". So many things are more fun after a break, or a change of location. It is a hard habit to build up after years of locking down to one thing and binging, but it means I'm having more fun and more REST than I ever was before. Eating an entire party-sized cake by yourself does not result in maximum deliciousness! At some point, you get tired of eating cake even if you love cake and have been looking forward to cake all week. Go do something else fun. Put the cake away. It will be there when you're ready for more.

this is your random reminder to CHECK IF YOU'RE STILL HAVING FUN

are you enjoying scrolling tumblr? watching youtube? reading that book? playing that game? drawing that art? doing that activity? if not,

YOU CAN STOP AND DO SOMETHING ELSE

you don't have to stick to something that you are doing for fun if it isn't fun for you anymore. You can come back! If you've loved it before you are likely to love it again! but you can stop!

Don't get stuck in a loop of doing something that you think should be fun when it isn't! You can put it down for a bit! Maybe that's the very thing that will make it fun again later!

[paperconsumption]

get him off the streets

[cuteandhughesy]

Is It New Years Yet? ╰┈➤ QH43

summary: friends with benefits is great in theory but when the holiday season approaches, you begin to believe that may no longer be the case.

[word count] 3.9k

warnings: SFW! friends with benefits | friends to lovers | jealousy | angst | kissing | suggestive scenes but no actual smut | read at your own discretion

a/n: based off this request! here it is, the last fic of cuteandhughesy’s christmas special! thank you all so much for the love and support you’ve given me through this special…I can’t thank you enough! stay tuned for my 2025 planner, which I plan to publish within the next few days :)

🎵 is it new years yet? by sabrina carpenter

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

the gold sequins covering your top are extremely irritating, rubbing your underarms raw with their sharp, shiny edges. in an attempt to not freak out and just walk right out the door, you take a long and exaggerated sip from your — 5th? maybe 6th? — glass of bubbly champagne.

beside you, bella gives you a concerned look— taking a much more delicate sip out of her own glass. she's been giving you the same glances for the past hour, and at this point you've completely pretended you weren't aware of them. because you're honestly embarrassed of your own actions— anytime the door of the miller's home squeaked open, your eyes would shoot over at an alarming rate, trying to see who was walking in...trying to see if it was him.

"he's probably on his way." bella's voice is soft—comforting, placing her tiny fingers on your wrist to grab your attention.

you decide to play dumb—nonchalant—though when you've had as many drinks as you've had, is practically impossible. "who?"

this time it's brock who gives you a look behind bella, but unlike the sympathetic look you've been getting from his girlfriend, brock's eyes glaze with vexation. he doesn't save you with sugary words or a reassuring smile, just a deadpan expression. "you know who, y/n/n. quinn."

you laugh through a raspberry, borderline snorting at his words.

brock sighs knowingly, very much used to the whole....thing you’ve got going on with quinn— and your denial that comes along with it.

"why would I care if quinn is coming?"

brock's brows raise. "nobody asked you that."

your face falls, your skin heating up with a mixture of embarrassment and the alcohol running ramped through your bloodstream. "well, I know what you were insinuating."

"wasn't insinuating anything-"

"alright," bella cuts of gently, squeezing brock's bicep in an almost warning manner—she knows better than to not argue with you when it comes to the topic of quinn hughes. "what brock is trying to say is that it's okay that you're looking for quinn, y/n/n. he said he'd be here by now."

you wave your hand, dismissing your friend nonchalantly. "I know. i'm not worried."

bella hums. "okay. but's it's fine if you are."

"i'm not. we're just friends."

anytime somebody would ask about your and quinn's seemingly suggestive relationship, they'd always look at you with disbelief when you'd tell them you're just friends. well, friends that suggestively cuddle, kiss and have sex...but friends nonetheless.

you met quinn in 2018 at a barbecue brock was hosting. you'd been friends with brock since you met at the coffee shop you'd worked at the year before—when you'd spilled his coffee all over the pick up counter right in front of him. oddly enough, he found you charming and the two of you became fast friends.

he quickly brought you into his hockey world, where you met many different people and athletes that soon became your extended friends. when brock introduced you to quinn right infront of the grill at said barbecue lunch, you'd just about died.

quinn was cute in a dorky way, shying away from your strong eye-contact and smiley face. with his quick wit, nerdy tendencies and independence, quinn hughes was exactly your type, and it wasn't long until you two grew close.

your strong friendship eventually shifted into a more sensual relationship, and you found yourselves in a little dance that others know as friends with benefits.

and that worked for you both. not only did you get the fun, relaxed and sweet side of a best friend, but you also got that dirty, dominant and sexy side of a boyfriend. you both basked in the comfortability your arrangement brought, as well as the intimacy shared between you.

but then something shifted. you noticed that you started to really care about how you looked around quinn, and how you acted. you begin to care about how quinn perceived you and what he thought of you. you'd get nervous when he'd lean in for a kiss after a hard game, and when his touches would linger you'd get filled with butterflies. you liked him — you still do.

it's just that…you know you shouldn't feel this way, especially for a friend, regardless of the sexual relationship between you. so you pretend and suppress your feelings in fear of loosing quinn completely—-because you've become completely reliant upon the connection between you, and the thought of losing that is heartbreaking.

bella sighs gently, but knowingly, raising her glass back towards her painted lips. "for sure."

a chorus of cheers sounds all around you, and the sudden shift in energy has you looking back towards the door. you try and peer through the mini crowd, moving through the space around large bodies of athletes to see who's captured the rooms attention.

you catch sight of familiar floppy brown hair, followed by quinn's unmistakable smile. instantly you feel lighter, and the grin that makes its way onto your face is probably embarrassing.

there's a petite blonde girl next to him—with perfect skin and a blinding smile. she daintily wraps her hands around quinn's bicep, eyes wide as she introduces herself to jt miller and his wife.

and just as quickly your smile fades, eyes darting away from the unfolding scene in front of you. bella says your name gently—sympathetically—reaching towards you as she grazes your arm.

you gently shake her off, plastering on a fake smile. "I'm going to get a refill." you shake your half full champagne glass in the general direction of the kitchen, a wordless action that speaks a million words.

it's not that you're upset that quinn's seemingly brought a girl with him to this new year's party. you're upset that it's making you feel so distraught and heartbroken. you shuffle through the room, slinking through warm bodies and smiling faces until you're walking into the kitchen.

you try and keep your unshed tears at bay, breathing deeply as you top up your flute of alcohol. "fucks sake." you mumble to yourself, taking a hearty sip of your drink.

"you good?" the deep voice of elias pettersson has you jumping. the swede is leaning against the counter casually, sipping what looks like glass of white wine, eyeing you amusingly.

"I didn't know you were in here." you say, turning towards the blonde slowly.

he hums, swallowing the mouthful of wine. "quinn here?"

"yup." you nod, popping the p.

"ah yes." elias sighs, looking behind you as he peers into the crowded space. he finds quinn quickly, the captain ever so lively around his friends— he also sees the girl next to him. "he's brought a friend."

you snort. "yeah I know all about being his friend."

the assistant caption eyes you gently, a small sympathetic pull at his mouth. "sorry y/n/n."

you've always liked elias. he's similar to brock in the way they both speak their mind and never feel the need to sugar coat the truth, but elias is often more laid back and less judgmental than brock can be. a lot of the time you think if you weren't in love with quinn, you'd be with elias.

an idea pops into your head, turning your rather solemn expression into a scheming one. you look at elias with a smile, to which he raises his brows questionably. "actually, do you mind helping me with something?"

he squints curiously. "what?"

you walk up to him slowly, your grin unwavering. as you reach elias, you gently trail your fingers down his exposed arm, tracing your nails over one of his bulging veins. "just follow my lead."

—

quinn has looked at you twice in the past 40 minutes...twice. the first time was when you walked out of the kitchen, clutching elias's arm as you leaned into him. quinn's brows pulled together questionably, eyeing you and his teammates close proximity, but you didn't give him the satisfaction of your attention, directing you both towards the heart of the home where the mingling was happening.

the second time was only 10 minutes ago. you'd been watching your friend from a distance, a scowl on your face as you watch that blonde girl whisper in quinn's ear, raised on her toes with a small hand cupped around his ear. quinn had caught your jealous gaze, sending you an irritated look.

you scoffed, quickly turning your attention back to bella and brock, standing only with them while elias was getting you another drink.

you've been pulling out all the stops in an attempt to gets quinn's attention. if you weren't laughing loudly at everything elias said, you were touching him seductively or dancing against him — all things to try and spark jealousy in quinn.

but if anything, it was making you feel even worse about the situation. the weird and heartbroken emotions running through you—combined with the alcohol you'd been continuously drinking throughout the night— has you needing a breather.

you excuse yourself from elias with a mumble about the bathroom, and you don't really hear his gentle response as you stumble away, slinking though the crowded miller home towards the stair case.

thankfully the lighting in the house is dim, so nobody notices you climbing up towards the second floor, barley keeping yourself in a straight line— too caught up in your own thoughts and emotions to focus on anything but.

the spare bedroom is the first room you stumble upon, quickly slipping inside the beautifully decorated space and letting the door click shut behind you. now finally by yourself with nothing but the bass of the music downstairs tickling your feet, you let yourself fall apart.

the tears don't come immediately, but the sobbing noise that leaves your chest is instant and intense. you clutch the pendant of your necklace, grounding yourself as your emotions come bubbling to the surface.

not only are you feeling heartbroken and hurt by your own feelings for quinn, but you're now also feeling guilty for attaching yourself to his teammate all night in some sad attempt at trying to ignite jealousy. usually you'd be more mature about a situation like this, but once again the champagne in your system has other plans.

you wipe your face, praying that your makeup look doesn't go completely down the drain and you still look somewhat presentable. you think it must be nearing midnight, and you're sure bella and brock are wondering where you've slipped away too.

you sigh reluctantly, sniffling away any lingering emotion as you make your way back towards the door. just before you can reach for the handle, it turns before you, the door swinging open to reveal quinn.

his face changes at the sight of you. there's a flash of relief on his face, like he'd been looking for you and has finally found you. but that expression quickly changes as quinn pushes himself into the bedroom, closing the door quickly. he looks irritated—the kind of expression you'd see if he gets asked a stupid question by a reporter.

he looks you up and down quickly, assessing you with an unfamiliar pull at his lips. quinn meets your uncertain gaze. "you fucking elias now?"

you blink in shock, mouth falling open like you're a fish out of water. "what?" you're practically seething, looking at quinn with a distant glare.

he scoffs. "I think you heard me."

his condescending tone has you feeling angry and worse of all, judged—quinn is in no place to judge you after he's brought somebody with him tonight. "what if I am?" you question, irritation clear in your voice. you take a step towards him, anger radiating off of you. "why do you care?"

quinn makes a disgruntled noise in the back of his throat, wide eyed as he steps closer to you. "why do I care? are you being serious right now?"

"yes, quinn." you huff, crossing your arms roughly. "you can't storm in here and start grilling me about what i'm doing in my personal life, when you've brought someone with you tonight. or have you already forgotten about her as well?"

you're being petty, you're well aware of that—but the wrath and embarrassment running through your bloodstream has you not caring.

quinn eyes you again, stepping even closer to you—his movements laced with disbelief and annoyance. "if you're implying that i've forgotten about you…well that's just straight stupid."

you laugh in disbelief. "oh! so now i'm stupid?"

"no — what you're saying is stupid."

you scoff for what feels like the hundredth time this conversation. you don't even want to be arguing with quinn, especially when you're drunk and feeling heartbroken— the latter unbeknownst to him. you swallow gently, attempting to suppress the emotion creeping up your throat. "who is she?"

quinn shakes his head, his expression turning softer as he analyses you—sensing your shift in emotion and body language. "she's nobody."

"she's nobody but you brought her here? that doesn't make sense." your eyes flicker to the shaggy rug under your feet, blinking away unshed tears. you've passed the sheer anger you'd been feeling, left only with disappointment and sadness. "are you fucking her?"

quinn rubs his stubble roughly, and you can practically see the whirlwind of thoughts running through his head. his eyes find your yours, a hard expression in his face. "are you fucking elias? i'm still waiting for that answer. because you seemed pretty cozy with him since I got here."

"yeah," you nod roughly. "and that's no thanks to you, quinn. you haven't even come up to me tonight. god forbid you greet me—your friend—when there's a girl on your arm."

"were not just friends and you know it. so don't start that with me." quinn's tone is firm—warning—taking a step closer to your ridged body. he's now close enough to reach out and touch, and you so badly are craving that intimacy. but you hold back, keeping your expression as neutral as possible despite wanting to close the distance between you.

"oh, okay. what are we then quinn?" you question, your tone hard and determined. in a moment of vulnerability, your expression shifts, voice creaking with emotion. "because i'm so lost here."

quinn's eyes flicker across your flushed face. he's slightly breathless, watching you, like he can't keep his breathing steady. you hadn't even realized that you started to cry until he gently reaches towards you, thumb delicately wiping away the tears before they continue to fall. "fuck, i'm sorry." quinn's other hand runs over your head, flattening down your styled hair. "I hate seeing you upset—hey look at me."

you meet his gaze once again, tearing it away from your shoes. quinn looks extremely guilty and concerned— the latter due to your clear distress and sadness. "i'm such an idiot." he mumbles softly, "you can hit me if you want."

his words, so genuine and lighthearted, has a small splurge of giggles bubbling up your chest. you shake your head, "I don't want to hit you."

the ghost of a smile pulls at his mouth, and he nods once. quinn's thumb gently runs over your cheekbone, soothingly rubbing the high point of your rather warm face. "okay."

his words are so quiet and hushed it has you stomach swooping in a pleasant drop. quinn slowly leans down, running the tip of his nose along the bridge of yours—an affectionate nudge. you tilt your head farther back, allowing the most space for quinn to lean in and press his lips to yours.

it's a familiar and comforting pressure, your lips slotting together like they've done hundreds of times before. your arms uncross, falling limp at your sides as you let quinn hold your face, leading you in the steady exchange.

you sigh into his mouth, a breathy sound that has quinn deepening the kiss. his tongue easily slips past your parted, wet lips. instinctively your hands slip up quinn's chest, resting against his hard pecks. you gently grip the round muscle, nails digging into his flesh as you ground yourself.

your tongues move together slowly and gently—like there is all the time in the world. but, there's not all the time in the world, and you're still heartbroken and confused about everything. not just about tonight, but the entirety of your and quinn's arrangement.

you frown into the kiss, pulling away from quinn. his brows are pulled tight, eyes pinched shut as he collects his breathing—recovering from the intimate moment.

"quinny." his nickname is spoke in a breathy whisper, brushing against his slick lips. the emotion is still clogging up your airway, pushing its way to the surface. "I can't do this anymore."

his eyes snap open, glazed with a mixture of lust from your previous exchange, and worry caused by your vulnerable statement. "can't do what?" quinn's breathes hopefully—nervously.

you swallow gently, allowing yourself to linger in the last bit of time and space where your secrets are kept secret. because after this, all your feelings and love for quinn will be exposed, and the chance of your heart snapping in half becomes much more real—much more terrifying. "I can't keep pretending I don't want more with you. all this time we've been engaging in this friends with benefits stuff, i've been trying my best to not give into the idea of having more. but the more we fuck around with each other—care for each other—the more my feelings grow."

you sniffle, looking up at quinn. you can't read the expression on his face, it's one you've never seen before. he doesn't make a move to speak, only looking at you with that soft warmth in his eyes. you continue gently, "and I don't know how much more of this I can take, quinny. i'm attracted to you in any and every way there is to be attracted to someone. and I know we promised one another this would never happen and-"

you're stopped as quinn brings you into his embrace, pulling you towards his chest while his arms wrap around you in a tight hug. your cheek rests between his pecks perfectly, and that combined with everything else has you breaking down again.

you let out a disgruntled sob, turning to hide your wet face in quinn's shirt.

"I know baby." quinn's voice is so quiet, spoken into your hairline before he presses a firm kiss against your head. "it's okay."

you shake your head against him. "i'm so sorry—i've ruined everything. i've ruined us."

he gently pushes you back, just enough so that he can look at you properly. you're sure you look like a hot mess with mascara tinted tears pooling under your eyes, and a runny nose, but you don't find yourself to care. all you can focus on is quinn’s gentle frown and the way he delicately tucks a strand of hair behind your ear.

his hand lingers there, resting around the side of your neck, just above your gold necklace chain. "how have you ruined us?"

his question is so genuine, like he can't even think of a reason of why your confession would change the set arrangement between the two of you. you almost want to laugh—whether it's in embarrassment or disbelief...you're not too sure.

"because you don't want me like that." not only is your timid response a stab in your gut, but it's also a stab in quinn's.

his thumb sweeps across your jawline, his gaze tender and determined. quinn's tongue darts between his teeth, gently wetting the plump skin of his bottom lip. quinn's eyes sweep over your face, his thoughts running a million miles an hour. but then something shifts.

his expression turns into something more determined—more sure, and with a breathy sigh, he speaks. "I brought lyla here to try and make you jealous. which is super shitty of me, I know, but I didn't know how else to like navigate these feelings i've been having for you. especially because I thought they were unrequited."

oh.

oh.

you blink three times, trying to process the words that just left quinn's mouth. "huh?" you babble like a fish, mouth opening in surprise, shock, and above all relief.

the smile that grows on quinn's face is the cherry on top of everything, and the sight of his grin has you knowing that you heard him right. "I've never fucked her or anybody besides you since we started seeing each other."

"you haven't?"

he shakes his head. "no, and i'm sorry because they way I went about everything tonight was just awful." quinn's hands are so warm and steady against your skin, gently tickling your face as he continues to run his thumbs over your jaw.

"i'm not with elias." you admit. "when I saw you walk in with that girl, I wanted to make you jealous…and elias agreed to help me."

his smile widens at your confession, and he doesn't feel so guilty anymore. the same goes for you, and knowing that your love isn't as unrequited as you thought, you feel yourself finally cracking a real smile.

"are you mad at me?" you ask timidly, leaning into the round of quinn's palm.

he pauses in a dramatic faux thought, humming gently. "not even a little bit." quinn cracks, his smile making its way back onto his flushed face. quinn leans back into your space, lips brushing against yours in an almost kiss. "i'm like falling crazy in love with you."

his words are so quiet—so intimate—plump lips brushing against yours as he talks. it's almost ticklish, and the feeling makes you giggle, and you desperately try to squirm away.

quinn chases you, arms tightening around you as his lips find your jawline. he starts pressing chaste kisses against the bone, quickly trailing down your neck.

you sigh in pleasure, eyes flickering shut as you fall into the euphoric feeling. quinn continues his way down, pausing occasionally to suck your perfume flavoured skin into his mouth teasingly.

"say it back." you feel him smirk against you before he gently bites down on you playfully.

you squeal with laughter, continuing your attempt in escaping quinn’s teasing attack. this time, he lets you pull back, watching you with a fond smile.

"say what?" your attempt at faux innocence quickly falls on deaf ears, and quinn begins tickling your side. you laugh again, falling into his warm, familiar chest.

this feels like the relationship you've grown to love with quinn—this is exactly the dynamic you two have created and the reason you fell so easily in love with your friend.

you wrap your arms around quinn's neck, pushing up onto your tip toes so you're at eye level with him. your smile is subtle, but to quinn it's as promising as the world.

"I'm falling deeply and truly in love with you." you whisper, eyes flickering between quinn's.

he closes the gap between you again, connecting your lips in another passionate kiss. this time the exchange is more rushed—desperate—like you're both trying to pour years of suppressed feelings into this one kiss.

and as the sound of new years rumbles through the house, cheers and celebration from friends floating up the stairs and finding your ears— you know there's nowhere else you're supposed to be.

[sequintial]

just caught up on to be hero x!! They're setting up an unsettling pattern of Lin Ling taking a chance to be vulnerable and express his concerns and imperfections, only for the people he thought would understand to literally dismiss and leave him. I wonder if this is a consequence of the perception of Nice, or if it's more central to Lin Ling? Since the series opens with Lin Ling being honest and vulnerable and then being abandoned... But also, such an insidious way for the perception to force Nice back into the mold of perfection, if no one can acknowledge or accept that he's not perfect. I mean, it took a single villain AGES and shaking trust in the very concept of heroes for Firm Man to be allowed to kneel enough to be freed of his LITERAL SHACKLES of perception, and that villain really only could do it because she *knew* Firm Man was a person. What's it going to take for Nice to be free?

[sequintial]

Another good question I stole from a reddit post that has really impressed all interviewers (two job offers!) is: "let's say you hire me and in a year you're thinking you made a really great choice. What will I have done to make you think that?"

It gets them talking about what they're looking for in the role, thinking about how you could fit it, and lets you end the interview getting to reiterate how good you would be for the role and how enthusiastic you are for it.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Frisky Friday thot?

You've caught the attention of not one gorgeous blonde, but two at one of Stark's parties. Each charming in their own way, they make room for you to sit between them and offer you a drink. One drink won't hurt.

Right?

Just a Drop

“You are such a buzzkill," Mandy snaps as she untangles the thin strap of her bag. "I'm tryna do something here and you keep whining that you're all alone--" 

You reel at your friend's harshness. She asked you to come. She even said she needed the moral support. After all, how could she go alone to one of Stark's infamous parties. She's so nervous, don't you know? 

"Sorry, but I don't know anyone but you--" 

"It's a party. Get out there," she retorts and pulls out her mirror compact. She checks her lips and flicks her lashes. "Now, if I keep Tony waiting, he's going to find someone else. So go. Plenty of people to mingle with." 

You sniff back your reticence and the sting of her tone. You nod and she spins on her heel and stomps back through the door. You contemplate leaving. Would she notice? Well, if she realises you ditched her, you would have zero friend in the city. 

You look down at yourself. You even let her dress you. The sweater is blush pink with sequins on it, but she was frustrated that it was so baggy. She paired it with a skirt even though it’s cold. She couldn’t lend you any of her clothes because they wouldn’t fit. The one thing she did give you from your wardrobe were the shoes. Heeled booties that make you teeter. 

You make yourself go back into the room. The voices hit you like a sonic wave. Everyone is so cheery and excited to see each other. It’s crowded and chaotic and you have no place there. It’s no different than you’ve felt your whole time in the city. Lost and alone. 

You set to wandering around. You’ll pace away the time until Mandy releases you from this purgatory. You shrink away from the woman you know to be Natasha Romanov. You tried to say hi but she looked at you as if she would swat you away like a gnat. Then there’s the men she’s with; they’re hulking, mean looking figures. 

You fold your arms and try to will yourself into invisibility. Certainly, given a number of your company, that can’t be entirely impossible. You pass behind the couch and something knocks against your elbow as you walk along the leather. 

You recoil and turn to rub your elbow as you watch the man touch his blond hair. Oh no. As he leaned back, you must have bopped him. You cradle your arm and cringe. 

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to,” you say as his blue eyes find you. It’s Thor. The god of thunder. He was one that Mandy was sure to point out; a backup plan, she proclaimed. “I didn’t see you.’ 

“Not to worry, lady. My own fault. I was being rowdy and did not think before I threw myself back,” he drops his hands. “I should be honoured to be battered by a woman so enchanting.” 

You blink. You’re not sure if he’s mocking you. Sometimes Mandy’s compliments turn out not to be. The man beside him glances back too. Oh, Steve Rogers. 

“Hey, you seem lonely,” he says, “who’d you come with?” 

“Oh, uh,” you look around. You don’t see Mandy. “A friend.” 

“A friend?” He echoes. 

“Yeah, but I don’t know where they went...” you trail off. 

“How improper of us, Rogers,” Thor reaches over to muss Steve’s hair before he stands. He turns and faces you over the couch, “my lady, I present to you Steve Rogers of Brookland.” 

“Brooklyn--” Steve corrects. 

“And it is I, Prince Thor of Asgard,” he touches his own chest as he booms, “would you do us the honour of joining us for a drink?” 

“Oh, a drink?” You squeak in surprise. “I hate to impose--” 

“Impose? We could use the company,” he assures you and waves you around. “Rogers, make room, you lump.” 

“Lump?” Steve mutters, though there’s a lilt of humour in his voice. 

You hesitate, swaying, then come around the long leather sofa. You don’t want to be rude. Especially to them. And it’s exactly what Mandy told you to do; mingle. 

Steve stands as you approach and gestures you down to the cushion between them. Thor remains on his feet as the other man sits with you. You peek over at the captain then up at the prince. 

“I’ll fetch us a round,” Thor declares. “I shall be fleet.” 

He turns and struts off. You stare after him and twiddle your fingers nervously. Your eyes skitter around. What do you say? 

“Not a big fan myself but Tony loves these things,” Steve says.  

“Oh, yeah, I’ve never... I don’t go to many parties.” 

“Well, you’re not missing out on much. I always end up dragging out the punchiest moron in the room. Unfortunately, that’s often my buddy.” He points and you follow it to the dark-haired man with Natasha; Bucky Barnes. 

“Oh, right,” you murmur. “That’s... too bad.” 

“He doesn’t even have a good excuse. They don’t serve anything he can get drunk on,” he snorts. 

Thor returns, giving you a start. He sets down three glasses on the low glass table across from you. “My lady,” he says and turns to sit, his weight shifting the couch. “The bar man says it is something fizzy. I can’t be certain,” he explains. “Rogers,” he turns to look at his cohort, “I’ve brought some of my home brew...” 

“Of course you did,” Steve scoffs. 

Thor reaches under his jacket and slips out a small flask. It’s gold and round, with elaborate patterning in it. He twists the cap and you feel a tug on your sweater.  

“I like this, it’s pretty,” Steve says. 

“Oh, uh, thanks.” 

“Yes, very becoming,” Thor adds as he pours into one glass, “and for you, Rogers.” He trickles more into another.  

You turn and look at the clear, bubbly drinks. Thor tucks away the flask and grabs two. He hands one to you. Rogers reaches for the third. 

“Thank you,” you accept the cold glass. 

“Skol,” Thor raises his glass. 

“Cheers,” Steve mirrors him. 

You look between them, feeling smaller as you feel their body heat brewing. You just lift your glass higher to let them clink it. You follow their lead, drinking when they do, though you nearly cough it back up. 

“Oh, bubbly,” you cover your mouth. Strong, you think. You don’t have the highest tolerance. 

“How long have you been in New York?” Steve asks, catching you off guard.  

“Oh, just about...” you tally in your head, “one year now.” 

“Wow, newbie,” he comments. You take another drink, just for something to do. 

“As am I,” Thor adds. “I do miss home but I like your planet too.” 

You nod and sip again. 

“Have you been to this place, Central Park?” Thor asks. “I was lost for a whole day.” 

“Imagine that, a whole god, lost,” Steve laughs. 

“Eh, I was off duty,” Thor argues. 

They banter back and forth and you’re all too happy to fade into the leather. You slurp tentatively. Mandy is still elusive. You suppose she managed to snare her game but what about you? 

As your eyes flit around the room, it seems to rock. You lurch forward in a sudden bout of dizziness and lean forward to put the glass down. You miss the table but the glass is caught from underneath. Thor takes it and puts it on the table. The ice hits the glass. You drank it all without realising. 

“Thirsty,” he remarks as you slouch forward. He pushes you back and Steve help eases you against the cushion, “are you feeling it?” 

“How much did you put in hers?” Steve hisses. 

“Just a drop,” Thor assures, “never worry, Rogers, I know as I am doing.” He pets your forehead as your head falls back under its own weight. You blink at the ceiling as your body slackens. “My lady, never fret. We are heroes, we will take good care of you.” 

[the-iceni-bitch]

Mɪss Aᴍᴇʀɪᴄᴀɴᴀ ᴀɴᴅ ᴛʜᴇ Hᴇᴀʀᴛʙʀᴇᴀᴋ Pʀɪɴᴄᴇ

Relationship: professional tight end!Ari Levinson x pop superstar!fem reader

Words: ~3.7k

Summary: You and Ari bring in the holiday season with your own special celebration.

Warnings: explicit language, explicit sexual content (m receiving oral sex, f receiving oral sex, daddy kink, unprotected p in v sex, dumbification, multiple orgasms) celebrity lifestyle, America’s sweethearts, 6’7” Ari. SMUT!! 18+ ONLY!!!

A/N: an early Christmas gift for all you lovelies!! I think it’s painfully obvious what this fic was inspired by and I’m not even a little embarrassed about it. They’re too cute!

I am no longer doing taglists so if you want to stay up to date on all my latest fics, follow my sideblog @the-iceni-library and turn on notifications!

You waved exuberantly to the crowd as your float rolled past them, the cold autumn sunlight filtering through the skyscrapers and making the sequins all over your dress sparkle. It was absolutely freezing, but you couldn’t stop yourself from smiling like an idiot. Not only had your tour ended up being even more successful than you had ever thought it could be, you finally got to realize your dream of singing in the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade.

Of course, there was something else that had you smiling like an idiot for the past few months. As soon as you got close to the parade’s end at 34th Street you could see him in the stands, holding what may have been the most adorable homemade sign you had ever seen while surrounded by a bunch of screaming tween girls. He was easy to spot since he was six feet seven inches, which made it even cuter each time he had to bend down to answer one of their questions until they all started squealing. Ari was your big, burly, all American man but also perhaps the softest teddy bear on the planet.

When they all saw you they started screaming, and you beamed back at them, laughing when Ari lifted a little girl onto his shoulders so she could see better. Yeah, he was too cute for you, everything the man did made your ovaries flutter. It was hard not to just give him moony eyes all through your performance, but you managed to share your attention with the other fans as you sang your new Christmas song. Your cheeks hurt from smiling so much once you were finished performing, like they did every time you saw your beefcake of a man.

Backstage was a zoo but when was it not. Assistants flurried around you as they helped you out of your intricate costume. By the time a large, warm hand slid around your waist you were down to nothing but your bra and some leggings. It’s not like Ari cared about that, though.

“Hey princess.” Ari beamed when you squeaked before turning around to look up at him. “You were amazing.”

“Staaaaaaaahp…” you giggled when he bent down to kiss the tip of your nose, batting your hands at his chest when he teased his hands under the hooks of your bra. “Ari! We only have a few minutes before we have to go to your game, I don’t want your teammates teasing you about being whipped by your superstar girlfriend again.”

“Baby, if I minded their teasing I wouldn’t be dating you.” He kissed your nose once more before pulling your sweater over your head. “There, ready to go in record time.”

“Ari… Ari!” You shrieked with laughter when he flung you over his shoulder and slapped your ass a few times, your face heating up as he got closer to the doors and outside where you knew a pack of paparazzi were waiting to catch the two of you. “Ari!!!”

“Calm down, princess.” He dropped you to the ground and kissed you so deeply you couldn’t breathe for a second, then opened the doors and led you outside with your hand in his even though you were blinking and stumbling like a newborn baby deer. “I feel like they would have thought it was cute.”

“Maybe.” You waved at a few of the paps and made sure they got a good shot of you kissing Ari’s cheek before stepping into the limo. “They do seem to enjoy how much bigger than me you are.”

“Do they now?” Ari pulled you into his lap and started pressing kisses all over your face. “I also enjoy it an incredible amount.”

“Yeah, I bet you do, teddy bear.” You giggled when he leaned back and his face was covered in glitter. “Oh, I think your teammates are still gonna tease you…”

“What? Why?” Ari furrowed his brow until you held up a compact so he could see himself. “Yeah they might.”

“My poor teddy bear.” You pouted and wiggled a little bit in his lap before you began to slide down to the floor between his legs. “How can I ever make it up to you?”

“Yeah, princess, I’m not sure getting glitter all over my dick is gonna keep them from teasing me… ow!” He guffawed when you pinched his thigh before starting to drag his zipper down. “But whatever, I don’t care.”

You hummed in agreement before pulling his thick cock out of his pants and licking a heavy stripe up the underside of his shaft, keeping your eyes fixed on his when you wrapped your lips around his tip and sucked softly. Ari groaned when you swirled your tongue around him, cupping your cheek gently for just a few seconds before curling it around your throat. The sensation of his fingers pressing against your carotid was one you welcomed, your eyes fluttering closed as you started bobbing your head up and down.

Every time you gave him head you marveled at just how huge he was; how he towered over you when you were on your knees; how your jaw ached as you stretched it as wide as you could; how even after so many months you still sometimes had to fight the urge to heave when he slid down your throat. His grip on your throat tightened as you started gagging around him, guttural grunts and murmurs falling from his lips as your drool slid down his shaft until it was covering his balls. Ari’s face was getting flushed as you kept going, and when he leaned forward and braced his massive thighs on either side of your shoulders you could have fainted.

His free hand gripped the edge of the seat until his knuckles turned white when you brought your own hand up to fondle his balls, his gaze intense and full of affection as his thumb stroked your throat. He throbbed and twitched in your mouth as you brought him closer and closer, the taste of his precum coating your tongue before you swallowed him to the root again. You whimpered when he swelled even larger, your eyes beginning to water as you breathed deeply through your nose and gulped around his massive cock.

When he finally came down your throat you sighed, watching his face screw up and then relax as he let out a primal groan. Ari looked so good when he came, the way every muscle in his body would tense up for just a few moments before he would sag and breathe easily as he gazed at you with a sense of possession. You made sure to keep your lips wrapped tightly around his cock as he started to pull out, slurping up every drop of his cum until he slid out of your mouth with a pop.

“Not a spot of glitter on your dick, teddy bear.” You beamed at him as you licked your lips clean, purring when he cupped your chin lovingly.

“No, just all over my pants.” Ari couldn’t help but laugh about it, especially when you spluttered and tried to wipe it off but only made it worse. “Princess, it's fine. No ones going to notice.”

“They have flashbulbs, Ari!” You whined when he tucked himself back in and pulled you up to sit next to him. “Oh my god…”

You didn’t have any more time to worry before the limo came to a stop, squeaking and feeling yourself getting hot again as Ari helped you out of the limo. Thank goodness the man practically ran as he led you towards the team entrance, not giving the press a chance to pick up the sparkly evidence of you fellating him that was all over his pants. Even though he had to go warm up he still took a minute to say goodbye to you, kissing you several times before heading to the locker room while you waved adorably.

He was definitely falling head over heels for you, and he didn’t even care who knew it. There was definitely an unbelievable amount of teasing in regards to the glitter on his crotch and in his beard, but it was good hearted. All of his teammates could tell how happy he was, so even the barbs about him being a kept man for the rest of his life were filled with that sort of friendly affection that old friends shared.

There was also the fact that he seemed to play exponentially better whenever you were in the stands. Analysts were quick to point out that whenever you were watching him play he tended to double his receiving yards, it even became a little joke among the sports commentators. What could he say, he liked to show off for his girl. As soon as he ran onto the field with the rest of the team and saw you cheering on the Jumbotron he felt like his heart was going to burst out of his chest.

The trend continued. Maybe it was because every time he caught a pass or made a touchdown he could look up and see you screaming your adorable head off on the Jumbotron, but he managed to set a new personal record for receiving yards. Over a hundred yards by the fourth quarter as well as two touchdowns, and he could tell you were proud by the way you were jumping up and down in the box. Yes, he was extremely tired and extremely sore after so much effort, but the smile on your face made it more than worth it.

Ari couldn’t shower and get dressed fast enough. He definitely got some exasperated looks from the rest of the team when he left them to give all the post-game interviews, but it was hard to care when he knew you were waiting for him. As soon as he stepped out of the locker room you were right there, squealing happily and telling him how amazing he was while he lifted you off your feet to kiss you like a fiend. It was hard to control himself around you, but he managed to keep from feeling you up as you made your way to his car.

He couldn’t keep from feeling you up once you were in the Impala though. Every time he came to a light his hand was on your thigh or your waist, and when he heard your tiny little sighs he growled in response. You were starting to squirm in your seat too, and he knew exactly what that meant.

“Tell me how wet you are, princess.” Ari tucked his bottom lip between his teeth and toyed with the hem of your skirt while he waited for the light to change. “C’mon baby girl, I’ve been waiting all day.”

“Teddy bear…” you squeaked when he pinched the inside of your thigh and felt your face starting to get hot again. “Sorry, Daddy. I’m so wet, Daddy, my panties are sticky.”

“Yeah, I bet they fucking are.” He grumbled when the light changed and he had to focus on the road again. “Show me.”

“Yes Daddy.” Your heart was pounding in your ears as you slid your panties down your legs and hung them from the rear view mirror, wiggling even more when the air cooled the wetness that was between your legs.

It took all his restraint not to reach out and press them against his face. Yeah, he would have crashed the car, but dying with your scent filling his lungs was the way he wanted to go. He stopped himself just in time, though he did suddenly find himself speeding through traffic faster than the law allowed. When he finally pulled into the hotel’s garage he dragged you after him and lifted you to wrap your legs around his waist, leaving your panties dangling from the mirror without thought.

“Fuck, I need you real fucking bad, princess.” Ari’s lips vibrated against yours as he growled with lust. “I haven’t had your pussy in almost thirty-six hours, it’s killing me.”

“I know, I don’t like it either, Daddy.” You wound your arms around his neck as he carried you to the elevator. “Feel so empty without you.”

“I know, and it’s a damn crime.” He nipped at your chin as the elevator rose to your floor, grateful that no other guests decided to join you as he was pretty sure your ass was hanging out of your skirt. “My poor baby girl.”

You could only moan in agreement when the elevator arrived at your floor, giggling when Ari poked his head out first to make sure there was nobody in the hall before he started towards your room. While he worked on the door you nibbled on his ear, writhing against him and whining until you were in the room and he threw you onto the bed. Ari grinned at you as he ripped his shirt off and undid his pants, giving you a few mischievous growls and barks before pouncing on you.

Even when he was domming you he was still so soft and sweet, calling you his good girl and pretty princess while he kissed your neck and peeled your clothes off your body. The way he looked at you once you were naked made everything below your waist clench, especially when he growled at you like a hungry bear who was going to eat you alive. Then he leaned down to pull your legs over his shoulders and do just that.

“Daddy! Oh god…” Ari just grunted against you in response as he ran his tongue all over your pussy until you felt dizzy. “Mmm, ‘s so good.”

Ari knew it was good, he fucking loved making you turn into a panting, whimpering mess with your eyes rolled back in your head. It made him feel like a god. Those cute little noises and the way your thighs squeezed his head while he drank his fill from your cunt made him purr like a jungle cat. You were so sweet and so creamy, and the way your little pussy would pulse against his lips made his cock get so painfully hard he had to start grinding it against the bed.

His tongue parted your pussy lips so he could push it inside you and you had to kick your feet so you didn’t lose it completely. They thumped against his back as he started to gently fuck you with his mouth, your breathing starting to get heavier and heavier as every muscle in your body grew tight. Every single time he ate you out he managed to bring you to the edge so fast it was unbelievable, and tonight was no different. You were trembling underneath him, your eyes already starting to flutter and your toes curling while his beard rubbed your sensitive folds raw.

When he pulled his tongue out of you and started sucking on your clit that was it for you. You sobbed his name and arched off the bed as you gushed sweet juices all over his face. He reached his hands up to massage your breasts and that just made it more intense, tears rolling down your face and your fingers yanking on his hair while he kept sucking and squeezing until you couldn’t breathe.

“That’s my good girl.” Ari was grinning like the Cheshire Cat as he sat up between your quivering legs. “Fuck, you look so fucking pretty after you come, princess. You think you’re ready for Daddy’s big dick, honey?”

“Mmhm.” You licked your lips and gave up trying to catch your breath when he yanked his pants down and kicked them away so you could finally see him in all his naked glory. “Want it so bad, Daddy.”

“Daddy knows, princess.” He moved slowly as he crawled on top of you, his massive body completely covering yours and making your pussy start throbbing even harder. “You just relax and let Daddy take care of you, baby girl.”

You nodded and drew in a shuddering breath when he reached between the two of you to start rubbing your clit as he lined himself up. Ari hooked your knees over his hips to keep you wide open for him, his eyes fixed on your face for any sign of pain or discomfort as he started to push inside you. Even though he wanted to just drive his cock deep and fuck your brains out, he was painfully aware of your size difference and if he ever hurt you he wouldn’t be able to forgive himself. He could tell you were just as hungry for him, beaming at you when your hands clawed at his massive biceps when he finally got halfway in.

It felt like it took an hour, but when his hips finally met the soft flesh of your thighs you moaned and wiggled happily underneath him. Your body was slick with sweat and glowing, and he’d never seen anything more beautiful. Ari gripped your hands and pinned them above your head as he started to move, his lips ghosting against your throat when you whimpered at the feeling of his cock stretching you so wide it burned. You loved it, though, murmuring nonsense words of encouragement under your breath and locking your ankles at the small of his back.

When Ari really started to move you almost fainted, arching your body to meet his and whimpering when he sucked on your ear. He had hardly even gotten going before you were moaning and whining in his ear, your body spasming underneath him as you came for the second time and felt your muscles turning to jelly. Your pussy was so slick that Ari couldn’t stop himself from starting to slam into you, not that you minded. His breath was hot as he grunted against the sensitive skin of your throat, his lips and teeth leaving a trail of bruises in their wake while he shoved his cock so deep inside you you could swear you saw god.

Even though he had well and truly fucked you stupid he couldn’t stop murmuring sweet praises for you under his breath. Every ‘good girl’ or ‘pretty baby’ just made you slip further and further into the rosy haze of multiple orgasms as he wrung another one out of you. At some point he had rolled the two of you so your were laying on top of him, but it’s not like you could actually ride him in your fucked out state. So Ari was just holding your waist and moving you up and down on his cock like his own personal cocksleeve, grinning up at you the whole time and telling you how good and tight your pussy felt while you whined and drooled all over yourself.

“C’mon baby girl, you want it?” The teasing tone of his voice was still full of affection when you hiccuped as he fucked yet another intense orgasm out of your body. “Daddy needs to hear his princess say she wants his cum or I’m just gonna end up fucking you all night, and I’m not sure you could handle that, baby.”

“Mm-mm… Daddy…” you couldn’t even hold yourself up anymore, crying softly as you rested your face in the crook of his shoulder as he continued to drive up into you. “Please come inside my pussy, please. I want it, Daddy.”

“That’s my good girl.” Ari kissed the top of your head and gave a lewd grind of his hips, chuckling into your hair when you shuddered with another climax. “Can’t say no to you, princess.”

Your eyes fluttered closed when you felt him swell and throb inside you, a low whine escaping from you when you felt the first hot, sticky spurt of his seed shooting inside your pussy. Ari held you close as he filled you to the brim, his big hands rubbing your hips while his body rolled under yours and he let out one of those yummy groans he always made when he got to come inside you. When you finally came to you were still on top of him, only barely able to lift your head and beaming at the sight of his face flushed red as he struggled to come back down.

“Hiiiiiii teddy.” You scrunched up your face adorably when he grinned at you and kissed your forehead. “I’d say that was a pretty good way to kick off the holiday season.”

“I’m gonna have to agree with you there, princess.” His thick fingers trailed along the curve of your spine and you felt like you could fall asleep just like that. “Definitely gonna have to keep it up. Speaking of holidays, though, I may have gotten you an early present, since we’re gonna be apart next week.”

“A present? Ari!” You squeaked and giggled when he reached towards the nightstand without letting you climb off him, shivering when the change in position made him rub right against your over sensitive clit. “That still gives you three weeks until Christmas, silly.”

“Well fuck me for wanting to spoil my girl.” He kissed all over your face and pulled out a small velvet box. “I know how much you like statement jewelry, so I figured the statement for this one could be just how smitten you are with your beefy football player boyfriend.”

“Ari… oh my god!” You sat up so fast when he opened the box you almost fell off him, grinning like an idiot when he caught you at the last second and steadied you while he showed you the ring. “It’s so big and sparkly!”

The moonstone in the ring was at least fifteen karats, and surrounding the center stone was a chain of labradorite that glittered under the low lights in the hotel room. As soon as he placed it on your right ring finger you leaned forward and wrapped your arms around his neck, kissing his face over and over and squealing with happiness.

“Everyone is gonna think we’re getting married now, teddy bear.” You rested your head against his chest once you made sure every inch of his face had been kissed at least once.

“Well, not quite yet, princess.” Like he hadn’t known the moment you said yes to a second date with him that he was going to marry you.

[aphroditeinthesea]

can i please request a percy jackson x reader where the reader is a daughter of aphrodite to the song i can do it with a broken heart by taylor swift

“ i can do it with a broken heart ”

percy jackson x daughter of aphrodite 🌊

⚠️ percy is an ass to the reader but that’s kinda a given + percabeth inclusion woop woop

⋆ ˚｡ ⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡ ⋆

i can read ur mind

she’s having the time of her life

there in her glittering prime the lights reflect

sequin stars off her silhouette every night

i can show you lies

“I’m so happy you're finally getting over him,” her sister smiled, hand on her back.

She forced a grin as she continued to sing along to the campfire song. She nodded and waited for her sister to turn her attention away. When she finally saw the girl from the corner of her eye turn towards her boyfriend.

Y/N looked down to the grass. If she looked up she knew what she would see. Just the thought was nauseating. The boy who she claimed to all her friends she would marry, who she already had best laid plans to move to New Rome with and go to college together.

Everything that came to a crumble when he decided he did want those things. Just with his best friend instead.

She watched from across the way how his arm was wrapped around the blonde. They weren't even talking, just looking into each other’s eyes. It was as though they were having an entire conversation without saying anything. She recalled how when she first started going out with Percy and her friends tried to warn her. Everyone knew that the two were soulmates, except for three people.

She wondered if on some level she always knew, too. Maybe she was just denying it to stay with him for just a little bit longer. Even if she screamed all night the day she he broke up with her.

If you were ever so inclined to wonder what really truly happened, here’s the deal:

It was like any other Friday. Perseus Jackson waltzed into her cabin, head low almost as though he cared. He told her he wanted to talk to her privately in cabin three. Her heart sank. She knew. She just knew.

Soon enough, while she sat on his bed and he stood in front of her, he spoke in his softest voice.

“We need to break up.”

She felt her head get dizzy while she looked up at him, “what?”

“I’m so sorry,” he sat next to her, “I hate having to do this to you.”

“Why?” was all she could say.

His eyebrows creased, while tears welled up in his sea green eyes. She felt like she was looking into one of the clear seas of Greece. “I dont feel about you the way that I should.”

She sighed, “Annabeth.” Although because of the weakness in her voice, all that came out was, “Eth.”

He understood her. Slowly nodding, he began once again, “I realized I feel more about her than I should,” he took a breath, “but I wouldn't do anything before ending this with you. I couldn't hurt you like that.”

That damn loyalty of his.

“I get it.”

i’m a real tough kid

i can handle my shit

they said “babe, you gotta fake it til you make it”

and i did

The next morning, it was like it never happened. Afterall, a girl’s gotta have a reputation to upkeep. Everyone’s favorite daughter of Aphrodite. Who could hate a girl so bubbly and peppy and outgoing and happy and has never once had a bad hair day?

Everyone tried to get her to talk about it, but the only thing she said was “I’m helping at arts and crafts today, tee-tee-why-ell!”

With a smile on her face and the taste of vomit on her lips, she pranced around helping campers make vases and false confidence.

“You need to guide your hands up more, like this-”

“Y/N.”

She looked up to lock eyes with the daughter of Athena. “Annabeth.”

“I really wanted to talk to you.”

She flashed her blinding smile and raised eyebrows, “I would love to talk, but I’m right now,” even though her blood boiled at the sight of the blonde curls, “see you later, though.”

“I’m staying.”

“Oh!” She squeaked, “grab a seat.”

lights, camera, bitch smile

even when you wanna die

he said he’s love me all his life

but that life was too short

As soon as y/n was alone she broke down, hitting the floor. She felt all the pieces of her shatter. She had spent hours grinning like a winner before she finally crashed.

She let out every emotion she had felt that day. The anger, the sadness, the betrayal, the heartbreak, all of it. She let out a scream for every glance she shared with either Percy or Annabeth.

But just before dinner, she dolled up her makeup and curled her hair to perfection. Then brushed it out. Then straightened it.

She knew she was overthinking it, but how damn stupid would she look walking out to dinner with hair that mirrored the girl she was just left for? Of course, the meal went as it always would. Her cracking jokes with her siblings, giving out advice that not a soul asked for, all was normal except for the table across the way.

The Poseidon table, which was currently being shared by a certain blonde. This had to be a joke. She watched their conversation flow so easily. The laughs, the smiles, whispers, before Annabeth snuck back off to her own table.

She thought to herself that maybe she should have done that. I mean, if little miss perfect could bend the rules a little, why couldn't she? Maybe that’s why he left?

Over the next few weeks, she tried to block out everything about him. Maybe it was just a dream. But occasionally she’d find something of his in a drawer. Crucial evidence she didn't just imagine the whole thing.

She was sure she could pass this test. The test being the ability to not spend her days crying. And although she did cry a whole lot, she was so damn productive. It was honestly an art. She knew for the rest of her life that this time really proved how good she was at faking. You know? ‘Cause she’s miserable and nobody even knows.

Try and come for her job.

[sequintial]

What paper tube fight are YOU remembering? We didn't stop just because our tubes were too busted. Then they became terrifying whips and we kept going anyway until we were all forced to stop.

[antler-queen1996]

•Last Words of a Shooting Star

Synopsis- Travis’s’ plane sequence (my ver.)

“All of this Turbulence wasn’t forecasted,

apologies from the intercom„

(See end for a/n)

Suffocation.

Metal digging in, crushing his trachea,

Lottie. black spotting his vision.

Nat’s sobbing. Blood rushing.

Nothing.

Darkness.

And then light.

Travis’s eyes flung open taking in ragged, deep lungful breaths, hoping to never run out of air like that again. But when he took in surroundings his disgruntled breathing turns panicked.

He is back on the plane.

The plane. 1996. Natalie, Lottie, Javi……

One side of the plane shook with angry turbulence dark and he could feel the despair, while the other was calm peaceful full of light, love.

Then he looks forward, somehow, he can see himself. Not how he died, but how he left the wilderness.

The shell of a boy trying to be a man.

How he’s always been since that place. He feels the all too familiar grip of a cup in his left hand he looks down, a wooden goblet. The same one he spent countless nights drinking out of in the wilderness, trying to escape the horrors they were put through. He drops it watching a blood red elixir drip out of it, staining the too-clean blue carpet of the death trap. 

And then it’s gone.

“It’s okay.”

Travis jumped when he heard the voice and then he stopped….. that voice.

That childlike voice mixed with the scratchiness of the first wave of puberty. Then the pop of gum. He flinched at that. “Sorry I forgot, they just gave it to me for my ears. Still pop.”

They, who’s they?

Travis’s lips tremble as he cranks his neck, stiff to the point of no return, to look at what he believed to be impossible. He couldn’t help but gasp, so guttural it seemed someone was stabbing him over and over and over again.

“No….” Is all he says.

Floppy brown hair, brown wide eyes still so full of life unlike last time he saw hi….. “No…” he said again as if he was to convince himself. He has to look away. But, then he hears that stupid, little snicker Javi would do whenever Travis would do something stupid and he could show him up.

How could you make it better Javi, really? Your dead.

That’s all Travis could think.

“You are too, doofus.” That’s what really broke Travis. “I know!” He’s known for years. But, Javi, poor sweet, dead Javi just laughed. “What’s funny Javi. We are both dead!” Travis screamed hysterically. “But least we are together.” Was all the younger said to the older. He was the one that was supposed to lead Javi, to protect him, it’s the other way around just like it always was; and it’s like he can feeling the blood vessels of his brothers dead heart bursting in his mouth, iron taste flooding his mouth all over again.

He heard the pop of gum, that fucking gum.

Then Javi’s gone.

“Javi.” Travis said. “Javi!” Travis screamed and screamed and screamed some more. Until his vocal cords ripped an his throat filled with blood.

“God, you kids are so fucking dramatic.” A rough, older voice. One that’s haunted his every waking thought for years upon years. The bear. “Never thought you’d see me again, huh?” Cigar second hand smoke hits his nostrils burning the hairs.

He is so confused he doesn’t understand that his eyes are closed so when he opens them he just stares in horror. Kodiak. The hiker. The last of their salvation.

“W…what…”

“The fuck?” The white man laughed,

“Yeah,” Kodiak sighed slumping in the plane seat, sequin fabric squeaking under his wilderness riddled clothes, “I said the same thing when I got here.” Travis chocked on his words, he chocked on apologies, he chocked on sobs. Suffocating all over again. It was a long time before Travis spoke, or was it? Was there a perception of time in this limbo plane of existence? Or has be been here all along, just waiting.

Finally the silence broke with Travis’s rugged voice, “What are you doing here?” And he laughed again, and again. What’s so funny?

“What am I doing here? What are you doing here, man. What are any of us doing here?” He said that last part more to himself than to Travis. Then he just sighed taking one last drag off the cigar, savoring it. Guess you don’t get many cigs in the after.

“They’ve been waiting for you Travis….” Kodiak said ominously, he turned his head, Travis’s eyes widened in shock the very same hatchet Lottie buried in his skull an utter 25 years ago.

Seems like it was yesterday. Travis doesn’t even realize he is crying before he felt the wet tears hit his cheeks, dripping down his chin. “And you’ll be waiting for them, all of them.” His face fell, confused, still in shock; “W-what do you mean,”

All of a sudden, Kodiak is gone. “What do you mean!” He yelled into the nothingness.

Travis is by all by himself.

The plane shook harder and harder taking him back and then in a strange turn of fate his face morphed into a mix of the younger and older version of himself, two entirely different people being forced to be one.

The air is knocked from his lungs as if it was being forced out of him, the last beat of his heart, Nat’s laugh and then her cries.

His whole life flashed before his eyes, his heart ached. For himself, for his brother, his father, his mother. Natalie. His sweet Nat. How they had done each other so wrong for the sake of survival. How he would never be able to take it back, how he would never be able to thank he for all she did for him. Even though the pit of hatred still lives well inside him for her, for Lottie, for that place.

But where hatred thrives love soon follows.

Then all that was left was darkness.

The end of the road.

a/n- TRAVIS MY SHAYLA. Okay I really didn’t know what I was gonna name this and then I was listening to an old playlist and this song came on and it was fate. And my sensitive ass DID cry writing this. Leave a comment and reblog 💗💗

[chaos-chloe]

Goodwill Chronicles

Summary: The irl shopping bit stream ?

TW: Mod!reader, Friends to lovers?, admiration

The fluorescent lights of Goodwill flickered, casting a sterile glow on the chaotic racks of discarded clothing. Droid, bless his cotton socks, was sweating bullets. He wasn't built for thrift store chaos. His face, usually a picture of serene composure, was scrunched into an expression of mild bewilderment as he navigated a mountain of floral print dresses.

"Guys, are you sure this counts as content?" he asked, his voice slightly muffled by the phone strapped to his chest. The phone, broadcasting their IRL livestream to a rapidly growing audience, gave the whole scene a surreal quality. Pezzy, perpetually clad in bright neon and sporting an eternally cheerful grin, bounced beside him. Puffer, a gentle giant who looked perpetually uncomfortable in his own skin, trailed behind, his eyes darting nervously. And Grizzy, ever the pragmatist, was muttering about bacterial loads and the sheer volume of polyester.

"Of course it's content, Droid!" Pezzy chirped, grabbing a sequined vest. "It's 'Thrifting with the Droids'! Pure gold!"

I, meanwhile, was having the time of my life. Rummaging through racks of faded black lace and ripped denim, I was in my element. Goodwill was a treasure trove for a gothic heart like mine. A black velvet corset? Score. A pair of combat boots with enough buckles to launch a small spacecraft? Jackpot.

My laughter echoed through the aisles, "Ooh, look at this!" I chirped, holding up a black velvet corset embroidered with crimson roses. Droid, ever the dutiful cameraman, swiveled his head – and the attached camera – towards me. He was mid-stream, his feed titled "Goodwill Gauntlet with the Bois!" to a surprisingly large audience.

"Alright, chat," Pezzy announced, his voice slightly muffled by his fear-induced curling, "We're here at Goodwill, trying to find… uh… something redeeming."

His attempt at humor was largely met with groans in the chat. I snorted, already elbow-deep in a rack of discarded dresses.

"She's already winning," Puffer cackled, pointing his spiky finger at my progress. "Look at her, diving into the depths of discarded gothic fabulousness!"

I unearthed a tattered lace shawl and held it up, grinning. "Gothic treasure hunt in progress! You wouldn't believe the stuff people throw away."

The guys groaned and continued their own, less successful searches. Pezzy was currently trying to disinfect a slightly stained Garfield plushie. Grizzy was trapped between a mountain of denim jackets and a display of mismatched teacups. Puffer, predictably, had started a small argument with a mannequin wearing a questionable Hawaiian shirt.

"This isn't really our vibe, is it?" he muttered, his eyes fixed on a particularly offensive Hawaiian shirt.

"This is worse than the time we tried to assemble that IKEA bed," Grizzy grumbled, his voice synthesized but still conveying pure misery.

I laughed, a genuine, hearty sound that caught Droid's attention. He panned the camera towards me, catching me off guard. I was examining a pair of lace-up boots, a mischievous glint in my eye.I was holding up a tattered black dress with a skull print, a mischievous grin on my face. Suddenly, the chat exploded.

"OMG IS THAT MAMA MOD?!"

"MAMA MOD SPOTTED!"

"LEGIT MAMA MOD AT GOODWILL?!"

"SHE'S EVEN GOTHER THAN I IMAGINED!"

"QUEEN! BOW DOWN, MORTALS!"

"Mama Mod spotted!"

"The goth queen has arrived!"

"Protect Mama Mod at all costs!"

My cheeks flushed. Okay, maybe I hadn't realized how much I was ‘Mama Mod’ in Droid's chat. I managed to stammer, "Hey, guys! Just… uh… helping the boys find some good deals."

Droid, bless his robotic heart, lingered the camera on me a little longer, highlighting the dramatic kohl eyeliner and the carefully ripped fishnets. Then, he focused back on the chaos that was his friends.

Pezzy, who was trying to decipher the chat comments, squeaked. "Wait, Mama Mod? You're… you're the Mama Mod?"

Puffer howled with laughter. "Dude, she's been moderating your chat and you didn't even know?!"

Grizzy, free from the denim, looked genuinely impressed. "She's got those ban hammers for a reason."

My cheeks flushed. I was Droid's main moderator (but I do hop into the other guy's chat), his right hand, his... Well, we'd been dancing around the edges of something more for a while now. Seeing the chat light up with adoration, and the faint blush creeping up Droid's neck, was both exhilarating and slightly mortifying.

Pezzy and Grizzy, ever the opportunists, started reading out some of the more outrageous comments.

"’She could wear a potato sack and still look like a goddess’," Pezzy read, winking at me.

“’Is it just me, or does Droid look like he’s about to spontaneously combust?’” Grizzy added with a snort.

I giggled, playfully pushing Grizzy. “Alright, alright, enough about me. Focus on the fashion fails!”

As the boys read out the increasingly ridiculous messages from the chat ("She's the Gothic Queen of Goodwill!", "I'd sell my soul for a thrift store date with Mama Mod!", "Protect her at all costs!"), I giggled, trying on a long, black velvet dress with bell sleeves. The dress was a little large, but with a belt, it would be perfect.

But as I turned back to the racks, trying on a fingerless lace glove, I caught Droid's eye. He'd abandoned the livestream for a moment, his gaze fixed on me. There was something different in his eyes, a warmth and intensity that went beyond polite admiration. It was a look that stripped away the carefully constructed barriers we'd both erected.

I tried on the tattered dress, pirouetting in front of an old mirror. As I turned, his eyes locked with mine again. This time, his gaze lingered, a silent conversation passing between us. It wasn’t just admiration I saw; it was a deeper connection, a yearning that mirrored my own. His aura, usually calm and contained, seemed to crackle with an undeniable energy.

As I continued to rifle through the racks, trying on more outfits – a ripped band tee, a faux leather jacket with silver studs, a pair of fingerless gloves – I couldn't help but notice Droid's optics following me. His aura, usually a steady hum, seemed to vibrate with a new, almost tangible energy. The camera dutifully followed, and the chat, of course, ate it up.

Goodwill shopping with ElasticDroid and the boys just got a whole lot more interesting. It seemed someone wasn't just moderating a chat anymore, and that someone might just be developing a crush. And honestly? I wasn't entirely sure I minded. After all, who could resist a robot with gothic tastes and a burgeoning crush on his Mama Mod? This Gothic treasure hunt suddenly became a lot more rewarding.

[onboardsorasora]

Day 11: 🧣 Ugly Sweaters

not exactly a winter warmer but I couldn't resist (also please ignore that it isn't day 11 and that I might have already written something for the naughty side of that day) for @chaosinstigator, Merry Christmas <3333

Part 1 | Part 18 | Part 19

“3! 2! 1! Daniel!” Max called out in a singsong voice. He looked around the quiet living room trying to listen for the small giggles that would tell him where Little Daniel was hiding. 

He didn't immediately spot him; not behind the curtains or hiding under the coffee and dining tables. Max grinned, imagining Little Daniel thinking hard about winning their game of hide and seek.

He ventured down the hallway to his bedroom and looked in the closet and under the bed. No sign of a wiggling giggling body. He ventured into the bathroom “Daniel I found you!” 

Nothing. Not even a squeak. 

Max frowned and went into the guest room, Little Daniel's room. The light from the hallway told him that the closet door was open. Max grinned.

“Daaniiellll..” he called before flicking on the lights, blanketing the small closet in bright light. Max stopped up short at seeing Little Daniel sitting on the floor. He hadn't even acknowledged Max, so engrossed he was in what he found.

“Daniel whatchya got there?” Max asked. Little Daniel jumped and spun to look at him. Brown eyes glittered.

“Maxy! I hide so good!” Little Daniel called, clearly proud of himself. 

“You did! You're so good at hide and seek!” Max stopped and fluffed Little Daniel's curls. The little boy leaned into Max's touch, letting whatever that was on his lap be seen. It seemed to be a blanket or a sweater.

“What's this?” Max asked again, redirecting Little Daniel's attention. 

“Maxshy it's you!” Little Daniel crowed and lifted the fabric that turned out to be his secret Santa gift from last year. An ugly knitted sweater with his face on it. Sorta. 

It was a sweater with one of his derpy meme faces knitted onto it. It was a silly gag gift that Max had promptly put in a box and forgot about. Until, much like the sequin pillow, Little Daniel found it. And based on the glee in his smile, Little Daniel loved it.

“It is me!” Max laughed. Little Daniel shimmied the sweater on, giggling while he poked his head out and the tried to find the arm holes. Max rolled his eyes playfully and reached for him.

“C’mere you.” Max tugged Little Daniel closer and poked and tickled him under the pretense of searching for Little Daniel's arms. Little Daniel's giggles became full blown honking laughter in a higher pitch and Max ached at the familiarity. 

He finally helped Little Daniel into the sweater and watched as he petted Max's knitted face on his belly. The sweater, understandably fit him like a dress but Little Daniel didn't seem to mind. He ran out of the closet, squeezing past Max as if he was avoiding tickling fingers and giggled all the way to the hallway mirror.

“Maxshy I look like you!” Little Daniel called. Max followed him out sedately. He wondered how Little Daniel would react to Christmas celebrations. He knew Daniel loved Christmas, loved decorating for it and planning the gifts he would get for everyone. Max didn't doubt that Little Daniel would be just as excited, if not more.

He hoped he wouldn't be able to find out how Little Daniel would react to the holiday that was so far away. He hoped and prayed that Daniel would be back to him way before then. 

Until then, he didn't think it was so bad seeing Little Daniel play with old decorations.

Max stopped in the hallway with a snort and a grin. Little Daniel had found Max's helmet again and was grinning at him through the visor. Little Daniel danced from one leg to the other, snickering at himself and Max considered digging a bow from the box of Christmas decorations and putting it on top of his helmet.

[sequintial]

Maybe if we all believe it can very hard then a new episode will come out before Sunday

Experiencing the TBHX agonies. Is this what the rest of you felt like while watching Link Click

[amywritesthings]

gojo satoru public bathroom sex beeeecause i was on something today?

Borderline illegal? More like egregiously — but Satoru made sure to stuff two of his slender fingers into your mouth to stop the inevitable argument budding on your tongue. “Can’t wait anymore,” is his only excuse as he leans to inhale the scent of you at your neck; feral like an animal in heat, like a rubber band snapped somewhere between showing up and finding out you’d worn the same icy silver dress he’d mentioned liking once in passing after seeing it on you during a New Year’s Eve party.

That was back then, before the two of you ended up in a limitless loop of play pretend. He’ll be civil so long as you pretend you don’t want any part of this — and to your credit, you tried. Casual acquaintances at work turned into lewd texts, and now? Well, the second course barely hit the table before the white-haired sorcerer lept from your little table.

“Meet me in the back,” is his only warning — and to your credit, you waited a whopping five minutes before sliding out of the chair to find where the individual bathrooms were located.

You barely made it through the door before he was on you, his large hands gripping either side of your face to drag you into a searing kiss. You speak in squeaks and whimpers, a protest somewhere in the middle, but Satoru Gojo is starving.

“You think you were going to show up in a dress like that and I’d wanna wait?” he muses as his free hand skates down the front of the sequins, marveling at its texture. Under his dark oval sunglasses, his eyes are alight. No water will quench his thirst, no meal his taste, when he’s parting your bare knees with his thigh. “I appreciate the benefit of the doubt, baby, but there was no fucking way I was— Shit, have you been wet this whole time?”

Gojo sounds utterly broken when his fingers skim past the hem of your skirt, only to touch the thin fabric of your panties. He grimaces as if he’s in pain holding back, the tip of his middle finger circling your clothed clit with ease. You whimper against the fingers in your mouth and nod to the best of your ability, and he exhales sharply.

“You’re fucking amazing, you know that?”

He never fails to tell you so.

Removing his fingers from your mouth, he quickly unfastens his belt and rips it out of his dress trousers with one hand, carelessly tossing it to the floor. He shoves his pants down far enough to release his aching cock, too aroused to even think straight. You love him like this; unhinged, untethered, for a man who is usually so tightly wound for the sake of the universe.

And it’s all for you.

As he hikes up your leg to hook around his hip, you can see the brief curve of a wolfish smile on his lips while he lines up. He pumps himself once, twice, before nudging the fat head against your folds. His other hand slides the fabric of your panties to the right, too needy to drag them off of your legs. When he wants something, he makes it happen.

“Fucking amazing,” he repeats breathlessly, before pushing up and into you with ease. You harmonize in groans of relief, relishing in the stretch and heat. “And all mine.”

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

Sensei, you've got a real amazing taste in fashion. Have you ever considered making your own line? If you did, what do you think your fashion line would look like?

Fun fact about me, I saw Cruella (2021) before the original 101 Dalmatians. (I heard from a fried that Cruella is nowhere near as good as the OG or the 1996 live action adaptation 😅)

For this post, I pulled many fashion references from the costume designer of the 2021 film.

If he doesn’t scare you, no evil thing will.

“I’m flattered, pup.” Crewel adjusted his lapels, beaming proudly. Every pore on him oozed confidence. “My skills are nothing to scoff at—how keen of you to recognize them.

“Before teaching at Night Raven College, I worked as a designer at a high end fashion brand. I left the industry soon to could create my own full collection, but were I to be granted the opportunity to…”

Crewel shifted, producing a blank sheet and a fountain pen. The nib glided easily onto the paper, forming graceful outlines of bodies.

“Vintage roots,” he murmured, “with a dash of danger and rebellion. Something classic yet defiant, something that will challenge convention.”

With a red pen, he draped cloth over his imaginary models. You watched, fascinated, as a multitude of designs unfurled before your very eyes.

A brilliantly bloody ballgown, a leather jacket paired with sequined motocross trousers, a billowing skirt of patchwork, a vest with miniature carriages and horses affixed to the shoulder pads, a color-blocked double-breasted peacoat—one side dark, the other light with spots. Black and white, slashed with red as an accent. Each look true to Crewel’s spirit.

Pretty, powerful, and pointed, like a sharp weapon poised to strike.

“They’re beautiful,” you said faintly, feeling as though speaking any louder would send the papers scattering. “It’s a shame you didn’t have the chance to make these. These would sell so well.”

Crewel looked down at his work, considering them. “Hmm, perhaps I’ll assemble them if the mood strikes.“

“Will we get to see you modeling your own clothes?” you asked eagerly.

“That depends.” He tilted his head. “Would you care to try my pieces for yourself?”

“Me?!” you squeaked. “R-Really?!”

“You had expressed an interest in them,” he pointed out coolly. “Was I wrong to assume? If that is the case, then I’m certain Schoenheit would…”

“I-I’ll do i!! Please let me, sensei!!”

“Hah! That’s what I like to hear.” Crewel shuffled his papers, then used the sheaf to lightly tap on your cranium. “Then I’ll summon you when the garments are ready. I hope you’ll wear them well.”

“Y-Yessir! I won’t disappoint you!”

“Good.” His mouth lifted into a lopsided grin. “I have high hopes for you.”

[urfavrib]

Did someone say Chuckles?

i can’t exclude him my my HCs i apologize also to clarify this is specifically OUaW Chuckles NOT SDR chuckles

In life chuckles is chaotic neutral, but with his untimely demise he becomes Chaotic Evil.

He was literally just a bard who liked clowning around.

Favorite color was orange, but changed to red with blood, hatred, and wine

He died his hair, he was going grey

he’s at least 10 years Kremy’s senior.

All clowns go to hell.

Chuckles has 4 ex wives. Ex is a loose term since 2 of them he ‘widowed’

Chuckles name was once Charles Humphrey Jr. (I can’t tell you why, i don’t know either)

He hates the texture of satin/silk. LOVES the texture of sequins like the wack job he is.

He doesn’t like the rides, hates being upside down

He’s awful have a mentioned?

He can make more than poodle balloons but he is lazy and doesn’t

Have i mentioned he’s evil?

He doesn’t have to torment the other clowns, but he does none the less

He used to be really good at juggling

Can’t any more since gravity doesn’t affect ghosts

His alcoholism almost put the carnival out of business

he sucks

i hate him

he squeaks when he walks

and jingles when he jumps

he only sings off key and off tempo