#but then again I don't usually make my own costumes

[writerslittlelibrary]

Don't worry about a thing

masterlist

summary: your parents needed the extra money, even if it meant making you work for it. what happens when two women disagree with your parents methods?

pairing: dark!Wandanat x teen reader, dark!Yelena x teen reader, dark!Melina x teen reader, dark!Bucky x teen reader, dark!Alexei x teen reader

warnings: alcoholism, dark Wandanat, dark themes, kidnapping, it’s kinda fluff as well

genre: angst, fluff

words: 2690

a/n: this kinda turned from dark!wandanat to a very soft fic. I mean, reader still gets kidnapped, but Wandanat are so sweet about it… :)

You do not have my permission to repost, copy or translate my work

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You had been working in the cafe for a while. Your parents needed the money, and to be honest, you needed it too. 

Your parents had been drinking since you were a young child, and you now you were a teenager, which means it is legal for you to work. Your parents didn’t hesitate to push you towards a job. With all their money going to alcohol, they needed your money for either food, or more drinks. 

On the side, you would save a little bit of money, trying to save enough to hopefully one day go to college.

Today it was a day like any other. 

You had just gotten back from school, and you went to the cafe immediately. However, this time was a little different. For the last couple of weeks, you had the weird feeling that someone was watching you. There had been a few people that asked about a lot of details from you, which creeped you out a bit.

At first, it was a red-headed woman. She looked to be around her thirties, and she was very kind. 

Then, there was a brown haired woman. She asked how you were doing, whether you were still in school, and also how you would be getting home. She seemed concerned for your safety. After all, it had been late that day.

Then, a blonde haired woman had walked in. She went into the cafe with a dog, and after ordering for herself and her dog, she offered to walk you home. You had told her that you were fine, and that your father was picking you up, but as usual, he hadn’t showed up. The woman insisted on walking you home, and you had allowed her. What was the harm, right? She was very kind and respectful, and her dog was nice.

After that, you had a week of boring people, as usual. People who didn’t give a single shit about your life. People that only cared about the fact that they had been waiting on their coffee for five whole minutes.

You figured you had just been imagining things, and that the three women you had met where just genuinely kind. 

However, after that week ended, weirdly invasive people started to come into the cafe again.

At first it was a man. He was wearing gloves, and he looked a little scary. His hair was brown, and he was tall and looked strong. However, when he ordered you decided he was actually very sweet. He talked with you the entire night, thanking you when you served him his drinks and food, and he tipped very well. 

A week later, this week, you spotted the red haired woman from a few weeks ago sitting at one of the tables. 

She wasn’t alone this time. The brown haired woman, who you had seen earlier as well, was sitting beside her. You walked up to them with a smile, pushing your odd feelings down and getting ready to serve them just like any other day.

The women smiled at you, and after giving you their order, they continued a conversation of their own.

You brushed your anxiety off of yourself, making their drinks and continuing with your shift. However, after serving them and getting back to another costumer, the man you had seen earlier walked in. He looked a little angry, but smiled kindly when he met your eyes. You smiled back, but before you could ask for his order, he went to sit down with the other two women. 

Again, you didn’t think much off it, rather just pushing the anxiety away and continuing with your job.

It started to get really weird, though, when the blonde haired woman walked in. She was accompanied by her fluffy dog, which didn’t hesitate to greet you with a wagging tail. You bent down to pet him, when you noticed a slightly red streak running along his fur. 

You went to brush your hand over it, but the dog retreated back to it’s owner.

She smiled at you and stopped at the bar, ordering the same thing she ordered a few weeks ago. After doing so, she went to sit down with the other man and women. Why did they know each other? Had it been a coincidence that you had all seen them before? Were they watching you?

You shook the thoughts from your head, preparing the woman’s order, putting some whipped cream into a cup for her dog, before bringing it over to the table. 

You put it down with a smile, grabbing the empty two cups and asking if you could get them anything else.

“We’re alright, sweetheart,” the brown haired woman spoke with a gentle smile.

You nodded and retreated back to the counter, ready to serve other costumers, before you realised, there were no other costumers.

The entire cafe was empty, minus the four people sitting in the corner.

Odd, this was usually such a busy time. 

You didn’t think much off it, rather deciding to start cleaning up a bit in the hopes of getting home earlier tonight. When you were about to shut off the coffee machine you heard the little bell ring, indicating that another costumer had walked in.

You turned to look at them, discovering that it was a tall, large man. He had tattoos covering his arms, and a long beard. He was followed by a woman, who smiled at you before she pulled the man over to the table where the other people were sitting. You hadn’t seen them before, but you did find it odd. 

When your colleague told you she was heading home for the night, you agreed to closing up, telling her to get home safe. 

After she left, you glance over at the table impatiently. They had been sitting there for hours, and you wanted to get home on time tonight. You still had a few tests to study for, and there was a project you were supposed to hand in yesterday.

You stood impatiently at the counter until the blonde woman walked up to you. You had hoped she wanted to pay, but instead she simply asked for a donut. 

You hid your annoyance and got her what she wanted, smiling at her when you handed the sweet treat over. 

“How are you getting home today?” she asked as she took the donut from you, taking a bite. 

“My father was supposed to pick me up, but I suppose I’ll be walking once again,” you replied, closing the treat cabinet. 

“I can give you a ride if you’d like. My parents are probably leaving with my sister anyway, so there will be a car left that I’ll have to drive,” she explained, giving her dog a few pets when it excitedly walked over to her. She snuck the dog some pieces of the donut while praising her for being such a good girl.

“That’s very kind, but I’m sure I’ll be fine,” you replied, not wanting to get into a strangers car.

“Don’t be silly. It’s no problem, I promise. A young girl like you shouldn’t be out on the street alone at this time. It’s dangerous, someone could hurt you,” the woman reasoned, and you thought for a moment before agreeing. 

It did seem dangerous to walk home alone in the dark, and this woman was very kind. There was no way that she would hurt you. 

“If you’re certain that it won’t be a problem…” you said, and you watched the woman shake her head.

“Of course not. Besides, Fanny would love the extra cuddles,” the woman explained, giving her dog, Fanny, a few scratches behind her ears. 

You turned around, missing the sign the woman gave to the other people at the table. They got up, walking towards the door. The red headed woman stayed behind, telling the others she would be there soon. 

She walked over to the counter, giving Fanny a few pets before pulling out her wallet. 

“I’d like to pay for the whole table, please,” she told you as she grabbed her card. You nodded and typed in the amount on the device.

After paying, she thanked you and walked out of the cafe.

“I’m Yelena, by the way,” the blonde woman said as she waited for you to close everything up. “I’m y/n,” you told her, locking the register and walking out from behind the bar.

“This way,” she said as she led the way out of the cafe, waiting for you to lock the door before opening the door of her car. 

You were about to get in before Fanny jumped into the car before you, settling in the middle of the couch chair. Yelena drove a truck, so it was easy to fit three people on the chair. You got in after Fanny, sitting beside her and petting her head when she laid her head on your lap.

Yelena got into the drivers seat, closing the door and starting the car.

“Here, you must be thirsty after working for so long,” she said as she handed you a bottle of water. 

“Thank you,” you thanked her as you opened it, taking a few sips.

“Who was your sister?” you asked Yelena after a little while. She turned to you with a smile, rubbing Fanny’s fur.

“The red head, Natasha. She’s my sister. The big guy, with the long beard, that’s my dad, and the woman with dark brown hair is my mom,” Yelena explained, focusing back on the road. “The cafe you work at is close to our work space, so we come there a lot, but we’ve never been there together.”  

“What kind of work do you do?” you asked her curiously.

“We take care of business. Make sure people pay… taxes… that sort of stuff,” Yelena explained, although she weirdly paused before mentioning taxes. You nodded, focusing on the world outside.

After a few minutes of silence, you started to get a bit dizzy, grabbing onto the dashboard to steady yourself as black spots took over your vision. 

“Everything alright?” Yelena asked, concern lacing her voice.

“Just a little dizzy…” you explained, taking a few deep breaths in the hopes of clearing your vision.

“That happens sometimes after doing a lot during the day, especially for girls your age. You should drink a bit more water and take a few deep breaths. It’ll pass,” Yelena told you, and you nodded as you gulped the leftover water in the waterbottle down.

You sat back, taking a few deep breaths and looking out the window, suddenly noticing the road you were at didn’t look familiar. 

“This isn’t my street…?” you asked Yelena, who merely shrugged.

“There is construction that way, so I figured we’d avoid it,” she reasoned, turning on her turn signal and steering into another unfamiliar road. 

You were about to protest, but the spots in your vision took over nearly everything, and you suddenly felt to dizzy to talk. You tried to say something, but you couldn’t even remember what happened after as you lost consciousness completely. 

------------------------------------------------------------- 

You groaned slightly when you woke up, the sun blinding your vision as you covered your eyes with your hands. You turned around in the bed, pulling the covers a little higher a closing you eyes again, fully prepared to go back to sleep.

Suddenly, you sat up in a fright, looking around the room and taking in you surroundings. You never got home lat night. 

You don’t remember anything past the points of being dizzy. 

You threw the covers away, standing up from the bed, ignoring the slight dizziness as you walked over to the window. As soon as you pulled the curtains open, all you could see was snow. What the actual fuck. It never snowed where you were from.

You ran towards the door, surprised when it opened immediately. 

You looked out into the hallway, making sure it was clear before you made your way downstairs. You could hear chatter coming from what you assumed was the living room, and so you tried to go around it, heading towards the front door, or atleast, what looked like the front door.

You almost thought you weren’t spotted, until you heard a voice coming from the living room.

“If you’re going outside, don’t forget your boots and jacket. Winters are very cold around here.” 

You stopped dead in your tracks, frozen in place as the voice spoke so casual. If she knew you were leaving, why didn’t she try to stop you? You hesitated a moment, unsure of what to do as you looked at the rack of shoes. Your shoes were there, together with a vast variety of boots.

“If you’re hungry, there is also some breakfast,” the voice spoke again, and you took a deep breath before deciding to follow it.

You walked into the living room, seeing all five people sitting on a few couches. 

The red headed woman, Natasha, was sitting at the edge of the couch with the brown haired woman beside her. Natasha was scrolling on her phone while the other woman was reading a book. 

After they noticed you arrived in the living room, the woman put her book away.

“Where am I?” you asked quietly, glancing over at Yelena who was watching something on the tv. You couldn’t understand the language, and you figured it must’ve been something slavic. 

“You’re home,” the woman smiled softly, getting up from the couch and reaching for your hand.

“We figured we’d let you sleep in, so I put some breakfast in the fridge for you,” she explained as she led you towards the kitchen, letting go of your hand and opening the fridge, pulling out a plate of waffles. 

You went to sit down at the barstool, leaning on the kitchen island, debating on what to say next. 

“Who are you…?” you asked hesitantly, afraid to upset her.

“My name is, Wanda, but you may call me mom, and Natasha is mama,” Wanda stated simply, squirting some whipped cream on the waffles before topping them off with some fresh fruit.

“... What…?”

“I understand that it may be a bit confusing, but I promise you you will be happy here. We will make sure you will never have to worry about anything another day in your life,” Wanda explained, smiling as she put the plate of food in front of you. 

“What about my parents?” you asked, and Wanda just smiled.

“You don’t have to worry about them hurting you ever again, I promise.” 

You nodded slightly, staring at the plate of waffles. 

“So you kidnapped me?” 

Wanda chuckled a bit, sitting down across from you and pouting you a glass of your favourite juice. “I guess you could call it that, although that is not our intention. We love you, and we’ll show that to you,” she explained, putting the glass of juice down in front of you. 

You hesitated before you felt your belly rumble in hunger, staring at the plate of waffles for only a second longer before you dug in, enjoying the amazing tasty treat. 

“Why me?” you asked after taking a breath, taking a sip from your juice and staring at Wanda. 

“You are special. You might not understand it, but you are special, and we love you. You are perfect,” Wanda explained, smiling as Natasha joined you in the kitchen. 

“Don’t worry about it too much, malysh. You will love it here, and you will have everything you could dream off,” she said, giving you a kiss on your forehead. She reached over to the cabinet, grabbing a glass and filling it with some juice as well. 

“If you want, I can take you outside later, or you could explore the house a little if that’s what you prefer,” Natasha suggested, and you nodded.

“Okay,” you simply said, taking another bite of your waffles.

You were confused beyond comprehension, yet for some reason, you felt safe. You knew you were safe, and for the first time in your life, you felt content. 

Permanent tags: @marvelnatasha12346 @lesbionion @nova-kyle @darkstar225 @saraaahsstuff @marvelwomenarehot0 @screechcat @iheartjohansson @tia-thesimp @swaqcenix @karmasgxrl @marvel-lous3000 @n0txn3vee @lorsstar1st

[willowser]

you had only to look at me—

part one.

bakugou x f!reader

wc: 7.4k+

tags: nsfw (18+), childhood best friend bakugou, oral (f!receiving), m!masturbation, lots of "first time" talk, more angst, more virgin bakugou.

even before i was touched, i belonged to you; you had only to look at me. — the burning heart, louise glück.

this is a repost.

you and bakugou avoid each other just like you did in middle school, only it's a little too easy this time around.

he's terrible at texting back in general, and because you're not initiating any conversations on your own — or sending funny memes or bringing up all might in some capacity — the radio silence draws ever on and on.

the closest you come to interacting with him is getting a snapchat from his mom, his figure in the background at their kitchen table. all you can see is the floof of his hair and the outline of his shoulders, but you're so bothered by the fact that he's home and didn't tell you that you don't even respond.

it officiates things in a bad way; he's really, actually not speaking to you.

and it's — fucking annoying.

at least in the past the distance was mutually and wordlessly agreed upon; you didn't talk because you were busy or didn't have time or anything new to say, but whenever he's come home — because he so rarely does — bakugou has always made his usual, god-honest attempt to irritate you.

and he still is, but this time he's doing it all wrong.

you go through the five stages of grief rather quickly, jumping from denial to anger overnight. several times, you type out something to text him, each message different than the last:

i know you were at your mom's jackass ☠️

it's really not a big deal and i think we should just forget about it, if that's what you wanna do ?

if i crossed some kind of boundary with you then i'm sorry and i won't say that again so you better call me before i put your baby pictures on the internet. i'm serious.

you're my best friend and i don't think it's weird that it happened. if you're being dumb because you're embarrassed, then don't be because i thought it was really hot

unsurprisingly, you don't send any of these and instead just stew in your own aggravation. lunch with him after the whole thing had been just as empty and awkward, and you think he chose the place near your apartment just so you could walk home and he didn't have to spend another second with you.

three months go by, which isn't long compared to other stints you've spent not talking to one another, but this one drags. like a lot. the only good that comes from it is that you graduate from anger to acceptance, finalizing a future without him in it.

except for the few times he invades your brain like a little parasite, red-faced and shuddering, gripping you like a lifeline, and then your stomach flips so hard that you feel sick and it takes genuine effort to check out of that daydream and back into a bakugou-less reality.

and then he shows up at your apartment, uninvited.

his mom hosts a sunday dinner that you don't go to, for several potential reasons. one would be that you'll have to see bakugou and pretend like nothing's happened even though you're still a little peeved; two is that you'll both ignore each other, and that'll reverse all your progress because he's been ignoring you already.

three is that he might not show up, and then you'll have to pretend that it doesn't bother you all night long.

none of that sounds better than watching trash television and falling asleep on your couch, so you tell mitsuki that you're very sick and very sorry, and that you'll make it up to her later.

because of this, the first thing bakugou says to you after you swing the front door open is, "you're supposed to be fuckin' dead."

suffice to say, you're surprised to see him; still outfitted in his hero costume, mask shoved up his forehead so that his hair is wilder than usual. there's kohl smudged around his eyes, messy, and they look brighter and harsher because of it.

there's also a family-mart plastic bag in his right hand.

"what?"

he just grunts, eyes snapping over your figure, dressed down in a too-large sweater and athletic shorts meant for running even though you've never done so in them.

in his hands — still gloved — the plastic crinkles obnoxiously as he holds it out. "old hag told me to bring this to you."

a can of low sodium soup, two apples, gatorade, and something over-the-counter for nausea. there's something else at the very bottom that you don't get the chance to inspect before he interrupts with his big, fat mouth.

"y'look fine to me, so why the hell didn't you go?"

you frown at him and — don't know what to say. clearly, it seems he's going the pretend-it-never-happened route, which is infuriating because he could just as well have done that months ago. even still, he won't hardly meet your gaze, staring for only a moment before rolling his eyes and huffing, sticking them anywhere else. if you peek close, real close, you'd say his ears are a little red, but maybe you're just looking for — something.

you shrug. "didn't feel like it."

he shakes his head like that's the stupidest thing he's ever heard, eyebrow arched. "why the hell not?"

"because, bakugou, i just didn't feel like going, i don't know what else to tell you." you huff, shrugging again when he doesn't say anything. "thanks for the stuff. is that it?"

his lips twist as he thinks, giving you another once-over before sighing. under his tank-top, you watch how his chest expands, the grimace that ripples over his face as he reaches a hand to lightly feel at his right side. "need your help with somethin'."

now you're just being petulant; you snort, raising your eyebrows as his eyes narrow at the sound. "me? are you joking? you need my help with—"

he groans loud enough to drown you out. "y'gonna let me in or y'just gonna run your mouth?" and so you step aside to wave him in wordlessly.

the backpack on his shoulder dumps to the ground by the door and he strolls into the kitchen like he owns the place, despite the fact that he's never been here before. you've lived in the unit for a year, but meetups are so infrequent and showing it off to him was never considered — until now; watching him shuffle through the bag on the counter, your nerves spike at the reality check.

alone together, again. in your apartment. well after dark.

that image of him is so — invasive, sweeping in at the worst times: between your legs, face as red as his eyes, the little moan he kept trying to swallow. how embarrassed he seemed when you asked if he felt good, if you felt good, and the fact that he still admitted it despite everything.

your entire body blazes like a flame to gasoline, and you try to focus on what else he's taking out of the bag, oblivious.

does he think about it at all? the way you have? at the root of the situation, that's what has been most bothersome: is he grossed out? simply embarrassed? does he feel taken advantage of? did he enjoy it and just doesn't know how to say it? the not knowing is driving you insane.

"i got—" bakugou awkwardly angles his body, gently touching at his side again. in his hands is a simple pack of first-aid supplies, like a wound wash and bandages and medical tape. "need you to change this shit for me."

"oh?" is all you can manage to say, still distracted, and whatever is obvious in your voice has his eyes snapping to you from across the kitchen, adam's apple bobbing. you clear your throat, struggling for normalcy. "the hell did you do?"

he's — going to take his shirt off. clearly, by the way he stretches out his shoulders and then slowly reaches behind himself to grab the material by the back, carefully pulling it up over his head with a low, stinging hiss.

bakugou's always been a lean kid — guy — but pulled so taut like that, after years of working out muscles you didn't even know he had, he looks — stupidly shredded, and the slow reveal of his tight stomach is not helping you to focus.

you just never realized how hot it was, because you never looked at him like that. until recently.

his mask comes off with his shirt and he tosses both onto the kitchen counter — again, as if he pays the bills here — and his hair is a mess and he usually doesn't care, but he runs a hand through it several times before finally looking back at you, eyes outlined in black.

"y'gonna help me or...?" he shrugs, trying to appear impassive — but it's too obvious; something's shifted, for the both of you.

you don't trust your voice anymore, so you just shuffle over to him, frowning at the dirty, worn bandage that's already unsticking from his skin. with his teeth, he pulls off his gloves and it's a wonder why he even wears them, really, because his hands are filthy underneath, covered in soot and black-stained grease.

standing like he is, arm slightly raised, you can see all his sweat, muscles shifting under his skin as he breathes, and his hairy armpit is staring you in the face and you don't know when he stopped being 12 and started being 20 and when he became such a man. it's not fair, that he should suddenly be so — attractive.

"you're disgusting," you tell him — and mean it — and it's met with such hot and irritated surprise that you have to keep talking before he explodes. "you should probably take a shower before putting on a new bandage."

it's road-rash up his right side, still shiny and wet and blood red. still raw. just looking at it is enough to make you cringe.

bakugou huffs, exasperated. "okay, gimme a towel then."

"i didn't mean take a shower here!" you squawk, taking a step back as if to further yourself from the suggestion.

detonation imminent; bakugou curls his hands into fists and the same muffled warning you've been getting your whole life crackles. "okay," he says, voice thin and razor sharp. "you're coming back to mine then?"

your whole life flashes before your eyes — or at least the few minutes it took for him to lose his shit between your legs. "what? no, why would i?"

"i need your help with this, dip-shit!"

"you're saying there's no one else that can—"

"if you want me to fuck off, just say so!"

things go silent, startlingly so. totally still, except for the rising flush across his face, one that you used to read as annoyance but are now translating into something else you never could have expected from him: embarrassment. it's starting to give you whiplash, how much you're discovering despite knowing him all your life.

"closet is at the end of hall," you say in surrender. "bathroom will be on your left."

bakugou mutters a quiet, angry little "jesus" before stalking back to the front door to get his bag, and then he's disappearing into the dark of your apartment.

you slump down on your couch and — struggle. watching the tv and absorbing nothing; it's a rerun anyway. the sudden, overwhelming urge to cry washes over you as the shower spray sounds in the background, followed by a low-timbered swear and the clatter of several bottles against the tub.

it's easy to butt heads with bakugou. you don't think there is any other way to interact with him, really, because he's so argumentative and that used to be okay, but now things are — off. you don't know what he's doing, what he wants, why he's here and in your shower when he could be at home or getting patched up at his agency. all the conclusions you can come to are frightening, a little, and they're hard to fathom; is he — does he want more?

is this just because he's a guy that got some action and is looking for a second round, or is this because it's you?

this stupid situation has only added an unnecessary amount of drama to your life, and you think maybe the pretend-it-never-happened route is the smartest path, even if you can't stop thinking about him and the strength coiled in his biceps, in his shoulders, and how tall he's become and — when did he lose most of the baby fat in his face, and when did he get such a sharp jawline?

how much is he working out, to get his body like that? he used to be a skinny, scrappy little thing and now — he can probably lift a truck over his head. must run all the time, though he's always been active, and you've never looked before, but you wonder how nice his ass is.

what he looks like under the shower, soapy and wet.

furiously, you blink out of your daydream, feeling like a foreign body in your own skin; if someone would have told you only a handful of months ago that you'd be having weird, sensual thoughts about your best friend, you would have laughed so hard you'd cried. or puked.

but if anyone else stands in that picture with him, your heart squeezes painfully. traitorously. already, you've shared so many memories with him; the start of elementary school, learning how to swim, giving each other equally bruised faces, staying up all night to study for important exams, tackling middle school graduation side-by-side, him making himself at home in your first apartment, just as you had done in his.

the devil on your shoulder asks: what's a few more firsts?

it seems like the shower stops in record time, but when you hone back in on the tv, the episode has changed and new drama is settling in. distantly, the rattle of the doorknob is more aggressive than it needs to be and when the echo of a swung-open door trails down the hallway, your heart suspends in your throat. never have you had to think this much just to be around him, and it's bothersome.

clean and relaxed, he's — softer; you spare a quick glance at him when he comes to stand beside the couch, distracted by the show on screen, and his hair is damp, starting to stick out again the more it dries. his muscles aren't made of marble anymore; still there and rippling, but he breathes calmly and his skin is baby smooth, tender. you eye his tummy and the line of fine hair running down into the waistband of his sweats, and do your best to ignore the sudden desire to kiss right above his belly-button.

"since when are they talking again?"

just as he looks at you, your gaze shoots back to the screen, eyes narrowing as you try to rapidly remember what's happening in the day-to-day for stay-at-home, pro-hero wives.

"uh," you blink, distracted — and he notices, "what do you mean? they've been hanging out, like, all season."

bakugou watches the tv in silence, occasionally glancing down to the bandage in his hands as he carefully spreads it out, as he dampens the towel with the antiseptic and dabs at his wounds. 

"even after she hit on whatshername's husband?"

"yeah, that was a misunderstanding," you frown at him but he doesn't see it. "remember when they went to that dinner party and all hell broke loose because—"

his flat look serves for a rude interruption. "they go to a lot of fuckin' dinner parties."

"i know, but," you scoff, annoyed, "have you even watched this season?"

bakugou scoffs, mocking and over-dramatic, "yeah, as if i've got all day to sit on my ass and watch your stupid girly—"

"you're watching it right now."

"because you've got it on!" he huffs when you sink into the couch, resolutely trying to ignore him. “start it over then, if you’re gonna cry about it.”

you gape up at him, going as far as to pause the show so that maybe he’ll acknowledge you and all your annoyance; he doesn’t. “start it over? this is, like, episode 26!”

“so? got a hot date or what?”

he’s not at all interested in the answer and that’s obvious when he spins around and holds out the bandage expectantly, staring down at the scrape — glowing red and angry, a mirrored wound you can feel scabbing across your own skin; itchy and irritating. 

finally he looks at you properly, frowning softly and — you see him then, can feel the tension lining his body as you carefully tape on his bandage. trying to hide how uncomfortable he is, though you he’s never had to do so with you in all of — forever. it’s nauseating, and again you're struck by the image of him, only now it's of the horror that had been on his face afterwards, at what you’d done.

it pushes everything over the edge; quietly, so that your voice doesn’t expose anything, you say, “you haven’t spoken to me in three months.”

silence weighs in the air immediately, heavy, and you watch him try to appear unbothered, shrugging as he stares back at the unmoving tv, jaw tight. “phone works both ways.”

“yeah, but,” your hands drop as he steps away to pull on a loose shirt, and you curl your fists into your own. just as he has. “i’m always the one having to reach out—”

“so why didn’t you?”

“what?” frustrated, you massage your temples, trying to soothe the nuclear headache threatening to incinerate you. “are you seriously trying to—”

“what’s the big deal?” he huffs, slumping down into the far corner of the couch before cringing, swearing as he gently touches at his bandage. “you’ve gone longer than that without talkin’ to me, so…”

the tone of his voice is infuriating, as if this is somehow all your fault — and maybe it is, because you shouldn’t have crossed such a boundary with him, but — he can be such a dick.

“it’s not just me bakugou, you could have just as easily picked up the phone, too!” your teeth grind when he shrugs again, leaning his head against his fist as he looks anywhere else. it almost looks like guilt that's dragging his expression down, but you know better than to assume he could feel such a thing. “you always—”

“jesus, if i always do this—”

“shut up for a second, damn!” and then because you can’t stand the stupid look on his face, you kick him in the thigh for good measure; it garners a warning glare, his teeth bared.

he easily catches you by the ankle when you try to kick him again. "tell me what the big fuckin' deal is."

"the big deal? oh, you mean besides the fact that you totally came in your pants?"

it stuns him for a second, eyes wide and face pale, before he's yanking you across the couch, narrowly avoiding the knee aimed for his gut. "you—fucking—!" a smack lands across the back of his head when he ducks and he plants a heavy hand over your face, forcing you to close your eyes and turn away.

"you're gonna blow my head off!"

"if i wanted you dead, you—" he intercepts the hand you blindly reach up with, crossing it awkwardly over your chest so that you're pinned down like a wild animal. "you would be!"

"kiss my ass, katsuki." you snark, and it does something to him, your use of his first name, because he's still for a moment before sitting back and collecting your wrists correctly, to hold against the couch arm above your head.

"you're such a fucking—" he swoops in so low that his nose almost brushes yours and he grabs the front of your sweater with his free hand, like he's gonna shake you down for some lunch money. "fuck, i could just—" and then he groans long and loud, so annoyed he can't find the words.

"yeah, well—"

"shut up," he lightly knocks his forehead into your cheekbone with another dissatisfied sound, letting out a heavy sigh as he sinks his face down into your neck.

all your muscles tighten on instinct, waiting for the sharp bite that's due any second — but his fingers only uncurl from the material of your sweater, slowly slipping around to tangle into the hair at the nape of your neck. his pull there is a little tight, enough for you to know he's got you, but not so much that you're head is aching; you can't imagine you have a sensitive scalp, anyway, after growing up around him.

you want to say something — which is an annoying realization because now you feel like too much of a talker — but you just focus on the heave of his chest over yours, the breath that moves through him. the minute jostle of his hips as he settles further into the space between your legs, almost comfortable. the slight swell of something unfamiliar against your inner thigh.

bakugou presses his face a little further into you, warm, and the tip of his nose drags along the column of your throat. successfully sedating you, distracted by the feel of his parted lips against your skin.

your body is hot all over, very suddenly; the sweater now feels like a death trap and hopefully you don't smell weird, though it's never been a worry before, not around him, and your adrenaline is rushing and you're kinda tired of acting like you don't know why that is.

fuck pretend-it-never-happened. it's been a long three months.

he's almost entirely pressed against you, but there is a small gap of space that closes when you open your legs a little wider, hitching them around his waist as his breath stutters against your neck.

it's happened so quick, so effortlessly yet again; you give a purposeful roll of your hips upward and are lost in him all over.

only — it's different than it was before because straddling his lap hadn't done much for you, but now the weighted outline of him is right against your center and the pressure that drags across you sends tingles up your spine and has your toes curling in your socks. when you let out a tiny gasp at the stomach-flipping sensation, tension coils in every curve of his body and the grip around your wrists and in your hair only tightens.

you can't help it; you let out a "katsuki" in the same heady tone as you did in his apartment and it has him falling easily into the slow grind you've been unable to stop thinking about. what shifts across his face is obvious, against your throat, like the scrunch of his brow and the slow drop of his mouth. he tries to muffle his breathy "oh" into your skin, but it echoes throughout your entire body, has an ache beginning between your thighs that he's already soothing.

the nip comes then, teeth sinking gently into your neck as you weakly cry out in surprise, but it's only for a moment before his tongue — wet and heavy and wide — is tasting over your jugular, lips closing around your skin as he sucks experimentally. you let out a proper moan then, squirming against his hands and up into him so that the pressure doubles for the both of you.

katsuki finally relinquishes your wrists, carding his hand down your body before coming to squeeze your hip, your thigh, locking your leg tight around his waist. "yeah," he rasps, voice deeper than you've ever heard it as he presses his forehead into yours. "how do you fuckin' like it?"

being bitten, he means, vengefully, but you're spread open beneath him and he's rutting the hard length of himself against you roughly, eagerly, and panting open-mouthed and you tighten up at the aggression in his tone and in his hands and his very being and —

"fuck," you gasp, loud and wanton, "fuck, katsuki—"

and then you are kissing your best friend.

the boy from down the street that always ruined your hair and taught you where to place your thumb if you were gonna throw a punch. that used his empty pen cartridge to blow spitballs at you and mocked you for losing crane games, even though he ended up giving you the stupid stuffed animal anyway. that had to be king of the castle, with his stick-sword and cardboard shield. that demanded you be his queen, weeds he picked for you woven carefully into your hair by his hands.

katsuki kisses like he's shy — another term you've never thought of in relation to him and all his fire and brimstone; it's slow and a little delayed in comparison to what his hips are doing, as if he's in his head too much and is trying to figure how to move his lips and when. tentative and chaste, until you run your tongue along the seam of his mouth and pry him open a little more.

it's making you hungry; that possessiveness from before is creeping back in, eager to have him in ways nobody else has. you arch into him, biting at his lips and sighing into his mouth as goosebumps break out across his skin.

with a slant of his head, he deepens the kiss and you can feel his nostrils flaring, the fingernails scratching against your scalp, the bruises he's probably leaving on your thigh. he lets up only to breathe, panting into your ear when he begins to bite and suck on your skin again; your earlobe and neck and even the cut of your jaw. like maybe he's hungry, too.

you fist a hand into his shirt just to tug it up his body, feeling the strong contract of his stomach when your fingers ghost against him. katsuki gets the hint quickly, rising up to his knees to tear the material off — much more harshly than he did before, which has you eying his crinkled bandage — and you move fast to take advantage of the new space.

it gives him pause when you yank down your shorts, pulling your legs back to slip them off and fling them somewhere across the room. his face goes red again, and his heaving chest, too, and his eyelids flutter as he takes in the sight of your flimsy, damp cotton underwear. you start to pull the sweater up your stomach, but he's watching so intently — so ravenous — that you get shy, without a bra underneath the too-hot fabric.

in any other situation, katsuki would have grabbed onto this moment, your hesitation, and held it over your head to come back and poke at. cataloged this little weak spot for future arguments, but now —

not once has he ever been gentle with you in anything; it's enough of a surprise that that's even a possibility for him, for the two of you, but he presses his body back into yours and kisses you deep, calloused fingers tracing over the new skin exposed to him. he doesn't try to push the sweater up any further, but one hand slips up your back, to splay between your shoulder-blades like it had before, and he's so close and you've never known him to be this — careful. with anything.

"y'r so—" katsuki rolls his hips again and groans, whispering against your lips. "fuckin' soft."

his sweatpants are still on and you don't know why, but when you reach down to help tug them off, he grabs your wrist before they can go too far.

he presses the heat from his cheeks into your own, like he wants to share it. "you done this before?"

"have you?"

he frowns at your non-answer. "i asked first."

you have. three times, technically, though a phantom pain echoes in your stomach at the memories, and you feel an odd emptiness in your chest that makes you really glad to have the sweater still on. your answer leaves you a little ashamed, under his gaze, and you purposely turn from it. "would...that bother you?"

before, you wouldn't have cared, didn't care, nor were you even thinking of him when it happened. wherever he must have been; u.a, probably, getting ready to make his lifelong dreams a reality while you trusted a boy that didn't look at you the way katsuki is now. that didn't hold you and touch you and kiss you the way your best friend has.

he scoffs, though it doesn't sound as careless as it usually does and he squeezes his eyes shut so you can't read them. the truth that's hidden there. "no," he lies, "why would—" but he doesn't finish, just sighs.

"it was awful anyway," you tell him, offering a small smile when he peeks down at you. he doesn't say anything, so you kiss him once, twice, until his tension is melting away. "should have been you."

the grip on your thigh turns almost painful and he grinds into you so roughly that you both gasp, loud in the tight, barely-there space between you. "yeah," he rasps, sucking another bruise into the hollow of your throat. "fuckin' should have."

you try to imagine it; eighteen and nervous, naked in front of him for the first time since you were seven and got into paint from his mom's workshop, when she made you both strip down in the same room, furious. how different he might have been with you then, how much more unsure. kinder than your ex, without a doubt, even for katsuki, and he probably wouldn't have even gone through with the whole thing, considering how uncomfortable the first time is.

or maybe it wouldn't have been, with him; maybe he would have looked into it, taken the time to wind you up the same way he is now so that you were eager and wet and ready. looking down at you with his wide, almost-black eyes in the dim light of a table lamp. another first to share.

"if i'd have just," he huffs, allowing his sweats to slip down past his hips. shoulders trembling when he makes you moan out his name again. "fuckin'—grown a pair 'n told you—"

the weight of him becomes more obvious, the straining bulge he's rocking into your core, and seeing it is — really getting to you; wearing such tight boxers, you can tell just how close the pink tip of him is to his waistband, nearly peeking out from just how hard he is.

it takes a shrug to get him out of your shoulder, so you can press your lips back to his. "can still be you, katsuki," you breathe, biting on his bottom lip until his tiny frown is gone. "if you want, it can still be you."

for a minute, he indulges himself in the greedy kiss you're giving him, testing strokes of his tongue against your own as his hips stutter out of rhythm — but it's when your fingers brush through the hair at the base of his stomach, trying to slip a hand into his boxers, that he's gasping into your mouth and pushing his body up and away.

determination settles over his face then — along with his vibrant flush — and he doesn't say anything as he grabs you like it's nothing and scoots you up the couch so that your back is pressed to the arm, propped up. once he settles between your thighs, he just rests his face into the plush of your stomach — which is humiliating and has you squirming, but the firmness returns to his hands; holding your hips so that you'll still, so that he can kiss right above your belly button, just as you wanted to do to him.

heat flares in your own cheeks — and down your chest and in your ears and searing on the back of your neck — when you feel the first puff of his warm breath against your underwear, where you're sensitive and slick and aching.

this is completely new to you; your ex-boyfriend probably never considered tasting you here, certainly not with the same desire that's painted across katsuki's face. you have to slap your hands over your eyes and bite your lip, embarrassed, suddenly, at how desperate the simple press of his mouth to your underwear makes you.

"hey, hey," katsuki grunts, pinching at your hips until you peek at him through your fingers. the highlights of his cheeks are crimson and his eyes are black, glaring with an intensity that makes you shiver. "it's my fuckin' turn."

to make you fall apart, he means, just as he had.

at the first hot drag of his tongue against the material, you squirm, leaning your head back so that your expression is hidden. another grunt comes from him, you think in dissatisfaction, but he continues, laving until your mouth is falling open and the fabric between you is drenched.

he's gone just long enough to be replaced by the ghost of his thumb, touching you much too-gently. hunger has you stealing another look at him, watching behind your hands as he stares, blatantly, at the mess he's already made of you, stroking the pad of his finger against the sodden material in interest.

discovering; a curious swipe over where you're aching has you sighing and trembling and his eyes jump back up to your covered face, open mouth curling into the faintest smirk as he does it again and again and again. it's bullshit — how quickly he's figured you out, almost as if your body was meant to be unraveled by his hands — but then again, it didn't take you long either, did it?

"katsuki," you hiss, digging a hand into the hair at the crown of his head, tugging on it until his smile is dropping and his eyes are lidding. your body is on fire and your legs are trying to close around his head, hips squirming as he toys with you, like the little brat he is.

deadly serious, he grabs your underwear and holds it tightly in his fist so that you can wiggle one leg free, and then he's tugging it out of his way and devouring you whole.

it's sloppy, the mixture of spit and slick as runs his tongue through you, wet and wide, and you're so sensitive that you squeak out in surprise, fingers tightening. a groan punches from deep in his chest and your hips buck at the vibration of it, drawn so tight already.

"oh my—" you gasp, dropping your other hand from your face to grip the couch; eyes closed, you're somewhere else entirely, lost in the clumsy swirl of pleasure between your thighs.

katsuki raises his head to breathe, reaffirming your grip in his hair by wrapping his fingers tight over your own. at the shiny sight of his mouth, you can't help but to whimper with a needy roll of your hips, until he's simply sticking out his tongue and allowing you to ride it, to use it as you need to. it's embarrassing, how desperate you are, but his eyes are knife-sharp and trained on you and you've never experienced anything like this.

he moves then, slipping one hand further up under your sweater, cupping your breast carefully as his lids flutter — and the other is shoved between his hips and where they're pressed into the couch. you tighten up at just the idea of him rutting into his hand while kissing your messy slit, moaning openly, head falling back as your eyes start to roll.

this is — fuck — you've never been so turned on in all your life and it's driving you crazy; at one point in time, the thought of bakugou like this would have grossed you out, but now you think it's only like this because of him. anyone else wasn't right, not the way he is, and he's maybe a little impatient and unwieldy, but it's katsuki. between your legs with his mouth on you — something he wanted — and his fingers are brushing over your nipple and the other is down his pants, wrist flexing and —

"fuck, oh fuck, i—" you try to sit up, chasing blindly after the high, but he forces you back down. a long groan is muffled by your skin and when he lifts his chin just a little, a glob of spit falls off his lips and the sight makes your toes curl before he presses back into you and sucks.

everything goes blank as you free-fall into him and you cum quietly, muscles so taut in your body that your voice can't even squeeze out of your throat. the minute you're able to breathe, he's biting a mark into your thigh and yanking you back down under him, lips slick against yours.

tasting yourself on his tongue has you coming out of the heady haze, ravenous; katsuki helps you to shove his boxers down, though he can only gasp tightly when he grinds against you, coating himself.

"'m not—" his soft hair tickles your face when he shakes his head, arms trembling beside your head. "i won't be able to—"

"keep going," you breathe, smearing your mess over the tip of him and down his length as he groans. "i don't care, keep going."

he smashes his lips to yours, though he's only able to meet the pump of your hand a few times before dropping his forehead to your shoulder, spine curling, fingers digging into your hair. katsuki swears long and low, eventually letting out a soft sound you wouldn't have expected from him as his entire body tenses and he spills onto your stomach.

"goddamn it," he moans into the fabric of your sweater, weary, after a long moment. "now 'm fuckin' tired."

and for some reason that makes you laugh, though the lust is dissipating and your nerves are trembling at the memory of how this ended last time. katsuki pulls away suddenly, making your stomach drop, and he doesn't look at you as he detangles himself, awkwardly shuffling away from the couch and out of sight.

you frown down at the mess on your stomach, the way it's pooling in your belly-button — and you'll be damned to let him leave you like this, but just as you finishing reciting over and over what you want to say, he appears, towel in hand.

it's still damp from his shower and you tense on instinct, waiting for him to start twirling it with that stupid grin on his face, but katsuki only arranges your legs so that he can sit between them, carefully wiping you off as his cheeks burn. and you just watch him, the way he runs a hand over your skin to make sure he got it all before helping to finagle your underwear back on properly.

then he just looks at the tv, unmoving. if he's trying to appear casual at all, it's a piss-poor job — but he's never been able to keep his fat mouth shut for long.

the look he gives you lacks its usual heat, though you can't tell if that's just because he's drained or if he's withdrawn for another reason. "what now? six months, a year before you talk to me again?"

and you're annoyed all over again.

"what?" you return his weak glare, sitting up properly so that you're right in his face. "are you kidding me? you didn't talk to me either."

"the hell did you want me to say?" he scoffs and — you could slap him, for ruining everything so quickly. wipe that stupid look off his face with your fist. "'sorry i busted a nut, you free for dinner?'"

"yeah!" the shrill tone of your voice makes his eyes widen, and you throw your hands up in the air, incensed. "that sounds wonderful in comparison to coming home and avoiding me."

"i didn't avoid you," he mutters, though his eyes drift back to the tv. "just didn't have shit to say."

"bakugou," you slap your hands over your face for the second time, though this one is much worse than the last. "how is that fucking fair? what did you want me to say?"

and now — his eyes are full and furious, mouth curling down into an ugly frown that you've so rarely had the pleasure of seeing on his face; every time his mother made you go home and when you told him you weren't gonna try to test into u.a. when he overheard your girl friends teasing you for liking an older boy in your school.

when he was losing you, you realize.

"'m not doin' this shit with you," he mutters, definitive, before swiping his shirt up off the floor and standing. "not doin' this bakugou shit."

"oh my god," you groan, rising, too, because your stomach is twisting at the thought of him leaving again, no matter how angry he's making you. "what does that even mean?"

you trail him as he stomps into your kitchen to grab his work shirt and mask from the counter, trying to interrupt him at every turn, and the scowl on his face only grows when you shoot to stand in front of the door, just as he reaches for his bag.

"you can't—"

"this," he seethes, gesturing to you and then himself before gritting his teeth so hard that they should shatter. "this is why i didn't wanna fuckin' talk to you."

you knew he didn't. the minute lunch ended and when you made out his shape in mitsuki's snapchat: you knew. but hearing it from his mouth is as much of a confirmation as it is a kick in the gut.

there's more he's struggling to say, mouth shifting as he chews on the words and the skin of his lips. his gaze jumps from you to the door to something on the counter before he's swallowing again, staring down at you with brand new eyes.

the light in the kitchen makes them shine, angry and sad. "i can't—" he sighs, nostrils flaring like he's mad at himself for struggling. "go back to bakugou, not after—" a vague hand waves toward the couch. "maybe this is just, i don't know, whatever to you, but i — fuckin' can't."

tell me what the big fuckin' deal is; earlier, he'd demanded it of you, why the silence mattered so much this time when it didn't seem to matter before. in the midst of your anger, you didn't think twice about his wording but now —

he wanted you to say it. katsuki wanted to hear you say that it hurt to be without him for so long, and he kept his distance because he was afraid that you wouldn't.

"you're so stupid," you mutter it quietly, and his eyebrows shoot up to his hairline, enraged, but before he can get another dumb word out, you loop your arms around his neck and just — kiss him.

not crazy or wild or lust-driven, just your lips to his, slowly working him out of the shell he's tried to hide behind.

the bag in his hand hits the ground with a soft thud and then his arm is wrapping around your back, tugging you to him as he finally breathes and opens his mouth — and lets you in.

when you cup the sides of his neck, katsuki inhales sharply through his nose, pulse jumping under your fingers, and his lashes flutter against your cheeks as he opens his eyes. he pulls back enough so that you can stare at each other and you realize that eyeliner is still clinging to his lids, making him seem sharper than usual.

you're a little stunned, then, at how beautiful he is. 

"i can't go back to bakugou either, dumbass." gently, you knock your forehead into his, smiling at the pout on his face. "you've totally screwed that up for me."

"yeah, well," he huffs, "about time. only took you all my goddamn life."

"sorry i'm late."

"what else is new?" he rolls his eyes and you squeak, indignant, before sticking your tongue out at him, patience worn thin already.

you expect a bite or a pinch to the cheek or another rough violence that falls along the lines that have made up your relationship thus far — but instead there is only something soft that reflects in his eyes and the shy kiss he presses to your lips, something that he's kept safe just for you, guarded, with his stick-sword and cardboard shield.

[talesofesther]

you're all I want love to be

Tara Carpenter x Reader

Summary: Tara is still afraid to allow people close, to allow herself to trust again. Until she finds someone who makes it easier.

A/N: The idea for this was also given to me by my dear @iamnicodemus. Hope y'all like it. Tara, I love u. <3

Masterlist

Tara never meant for it to happen.

It was actually the one thing she wanted the least. Catching feelings for someone only opens up more opportunities for her to get hurt.

And yet it happened so easily, so subtly, that she only realized it when the damage was already done.

She found you on her first day at the university. When she was admittedly very lost; backpack hanging from one shoulder, fifteen minutes late for her class, and walking in the opposite direction of it. You were the only person she'd bumped into when going past Blackmore's cafeteria, and after a bit of an internal pep talk, Tara walked up to you.

And if kindness could be a person, it would be you. Instead of just taking her to class, you gave Tara a simple tour of the university, promising to be around if she ever needed anything else.

Tara started noticing you on every corner of the campus after that. She didn't take you up on your offer though, choosing instead to keep her distance. Still, you always had a smile reserved for her at times you'd catch her staring. That didn't change when the rumors about her and Sam started, if anything, you became more approachable than before.

But it was only after an unfortunate incident, that Tara actually started hanging out with you;

October had started four days ago, and with it, the Halloween season. Parties were already being scheduled every other weekend and sometimes on weekdays as well.

Tara was walking towards her class, her head in the clouds while she thought about what costume she would wear if she were to go to one of those parties.

She was usually one to be early for class now that she had her paths memorized, preferring the calmness of the minutes before everyone started rushing to arrive on time.

So she wasn't exactly expecting what happened next.

As Tara rounded a corner, she was surprised to come face to face with two other students; one of them adorning a black hoodie and a cheap Ghostface mask. The 'boo' that left his lips was as childish as it could be, but the abruptness of the encounter got Tara stumbling on her own feet as she took several steps back, eyes wide and her body momentarily entering fight or flight mode.

"What's wrong, Carpenter?" The guy in the mask said in a mocking tone, his friend joining in on the laughter, "thought I was your sister?"

Tara's voice was tangled up in her throat, she couldn't remember if she packed her inhaler this morning, or was it her taser that she forgot?

If unkind memories weren't flashing behind her eyes, Tara would have recognized the two idiots in front of her; the boys who came here to do anything but study, taking getting on people's nerves as a hobby.

It was only when the back of their heads was hit — quite forcefully — with a book, that they stopped laughing. The cheap mask fell to the ground with the hit, gaining a crack on its edge.

"Don't you guys have anything better to do?" You came from behind them, tucking the book back in your backpack, "fuck off before I tell the director what you've been doing out in the parking lot when you think no one's watching."

With a few complaints under their breath, they eventually walked away, allowing Tara to let out the breath she'd been holding.

"Morons," you huffed, tugging on the straps of your backpack before turning around to Tara, your gaze softening immediately, "you okay?"

Her dark eyes found yours. She simply nodded, feeling her lower lip quivering when she tried to speak. She noticed the way your hand twitched to reach out to her but you stopped yourself midway, instead tucking both hands in your pockets.

"I'm sorry about them," you told her with the usual gentleness you never lacked, "they should know better than to do that."

Tara shook her head softly, managing a smile when her heartbeat started to settle, "thank you for… stepping in."

You just shrugged, your smile coming as a copy of hers, and it got Tara wondering if it could hold the same sentiment too.

"Anytime," you told her then, and Tara hardly left your side after it.

It was easy to fall into the routine of having you near and pretending she was just a normal girl with a crush on her friend. Being with you was so easy that it made Tara forget about all the bad, forget about all the reasons why allowing people close became dangerous.

And today? Today should be a good day, it's a day Tara has been looking forward to, a day that took away her sleep for all the good reasons. And it's not like she never stopped to get coffee with you on the way to campus, but today felt different because you had asked her to, as a date.

And Tara had been counting the seconds for it; until Ghostface came back and nearly killed her and Sam at that grocery store, until Mindy said 'never trust the love interest', until her worst nightmares came back again and suddenly nothing was easy anymore.

"Alright guys, as much as I love discussing possible suspects with you," Chad pushed himself off the bench he'd been sitting on, "we've still got classes to go to, come on Ethan." The two boys gathered their things and walked away, Quinn soon following behind.

Tara slumped back in her seat, her hands coming up to cover her eyes. With her sight momentarily gone, it felt like everything else was louder, heavier; she could perfectly hear the rustling of leaves from the trees around, the cacophony of voices from all the other students hanging out outside, and feel the weight of Sam's gaze on her.

"I think someone's looking for you, lovergirl," Mindy said out of nowhere, kicking Tara's sneaker with her own. When Tara glanced up at her friend with a frown, all Mindy did was tilt her head towards the university, where you had just walked out from and were now making your way to them.

"Don't think I haven't noticed," Mindy teased with a sing-song voice and a grin plastered on her lips.

"Noticed what?" Sam sat up straighter, her gaze shifting from Tara to Mindy.

"Tara's girlfr-"

"Nothing," Tara interrupted quickly, getting up so she could land a gentle punch to Mindy's shoulder, "nothing to notice," she said again, pointedly.

"Alright, let's go, Sam," Mindy extended a hand for the older girl, "we'll meet back at the dorm later."

Sam still had a confused frown on her features but she took the hand offered to her anyway, while Mindy leaned closer to Tara so she could whisper; "always knew you had good taste," before both of them walked again.

Tara's cheeks went aflame as she let out a groan, predicting the onslaught of questions she'd get later today. She slowly turned around to meet you in the middle, her soul naturally filling with incessant butterflies.

Had she really been that unsubtle when regarding you?

"Hey," you greeted her a little breathlessly, letting go of your backpack and leaving it on the floor as you took a small extra step closer to Tara, your eyes frantically looking her over, "I was so worried when I saw what happened last night, are you-"

"I'm okay," it was instinct, but Tara didn't know if the words were true. There was something about you that always made her feel more than she wanted to, she suddenly felt like the last pieces of herself she'd been trying to hold together so hard over the last months started crumbling. Tara took hold of your hands, squeezing tightly. She didn't know who she was trying to comfort, you or herself.

You held her back, glancing down as your fingers intertwined with hers. Tara observed the way your lashes kissed the corner of your cheeks; you were all golden softness and spring warmth, presence rivaling the one of a welcoming sun on a cold day. Tara wanted to memorize that, keep it in her heart as if it was the first and last time she'd be seeing you.

It should be easy to forget and pretend, but it suddenly wasn't, because Mindy's words kept ringing inside Tara's head even if she didn't want them to be true. She felt tears steadily collecting on the bottom lid of her eyes.

"But," she closed her eyes at the unsteadiness of her own voice. More than anything, she wanted this, wanted you. But she was stuck. It felt like quicksand, pulling her further down the more she struggled to get out. "about today…"

It's like you knew her better than she knew herself sometimes, maybe for you, it still felt easy. "It's alright, Tara." Your thumb brushed over the scar on top of her hand, "we don't have to go, I understand."

Tara pursed her lips, blinking away her vulnerability. She let go of your hands only to loop her arm around yours and bring your bodies closer together, "walk me to class, though?"

—

"Come on, spill it, what's up between you two?" Mindy leaned back on the kitchen counter beside Tara, "I was joking earlier today, but now I actually think there's something there."

The carrot Tara was cutting ended up with a slice too big, she had to turn it around and cut it one more time in the middle, "I've told you, there's nothing going on," Tara told her friend with a sigh, making sure to cut smaller slices so she could keep her hands busy as long as possible; "she's my friend."

Mindy scoffed, she picked up a spoon from the sink and tasted whatever Chad was cooking up on the stove. A grimace came to her face at the lack of seasoning, "I've heard that before."

"It's not like that," Tara dropped the knife then, unsure what she was frustrated about or what she wanted to convince Mindy of, "how can I get… involved with someone after what happened?" Her voice grew quieter by the end.

Mindy softened at that, she turned to face Tara fully — everyone knew the younger Carpenter was still struggling with what she'd been through, even if she didn't want to admit it. "I know it's not easy, T. But you can't close yourself off for everyone, some people are still worth it," Mindy glanced towards the living room, a soft smile on her lips when Anika's silhouette came into view, "people aren't meant to be islands."

—

There are times when the pain is so big, that it almost doesn't feel like pain anymore. If it comes from a wound, that's usually the time when you'll pass out. If it comes from inside, you start to feel numb.

Sitting at the back of an ambulance as she watches cops walking out with another one of her friends in a dark body bag, Tara thinks she's close to that feeling. Mindy is sitting beside her, she's not moving. Tara doesn't know what to say in moments like these, they feel almost awkward. A morbid kind of awkward.

So when she gets up, cell phone in hand with your number already ringing, she blames it on that; on the pain squeezing her chest almost to the point of unbearable, on the helplessness she feels twirling in her gut.

Tara paced back and forth on the sidewalk, trying to draw out the noise of the sirens as she counted up the seconds until you picked up.

… Two, three, four.

Tara could hear her own heart rate quicken, she closed her eyes, thinking about how her inhaler was still all the way up in the apartment; where there's blood, and-

Please, pick up. Please, pick up.

"Hello?"

A long sigh of relief left Tara's lips as soon as she heard your voice through the phone. As if she hadn't cried enough, she could see tears clouding her sight.

"Tara? What happened, is everything okay?"

"No, it's not," Tara forced out, her voice tight with a sudden rawness. She turned her back to Mindy so the girl wouldn't see her crying, "there was another attack… Anika didn't make it."

"Oh god, I can't-" Tara could hear you choking on your own voice, "are you okay? Please tell me you're okay."

"Yeah, I'm-" Tears made a steady path down to Tara's chin, some getting caught under the phone pressed tightly to her cheek, "I'm alright."

"Tell me where you are, I can be there in like ten- five minutes."

"No!" Tara said with urgency, "don't come here, please, I don't want you anywhere near this," she gulped back a lump in her throat, "it's too dangerous."

"But what about you?"

"I'll be okay," Tara closed her eyes, wishing the words really were true, "I just-" she hesitated, a confession lingering on her tongue, "I just wanted to hear your voice, is all." She bit onto her lower lip until it drew blood.

"We- we can talk for as long as you need," it was like Tara could hear your smile, "I'm happy to hear your voice too."

—

Ambulance lights and police sirens were clouding your senses as you run up to the commotion. It was quite a sight; your oversized shirt, shorts, and sneakers with mismatched high socks. But you couldn't remember to care because your heart had been at your throat ever since Mindy called.

There were several reporters blocking your view but you squeezed your way through them until you reached the police tape. You've always hated this; the white and red colors of the vehicles that only showed up in tragedies, the panic and grief that lay heavy in the air, the clicks of the cameras from people who saw it as an opportunity — you hated it all, but right now the only one on your mind is Tara.

You ducked to go under the police tape, immediately attracting the attention of one of the cops, "Miss, you can't be here, please go back behind-"

"No, you don't understand," you gripped at the fabric of his jacket when he tried to keep you back, trying to push through, "I know them."

And the cop kept speaking, probably about things you weren't allowed to do and places you shouldn't be. You didn't hear any of it, because you found her. Her blue shirt had more red than blue in it, dried blood was all over the fabric, making you feel a mix between relief and nauseousness; her hair was messy, tangled, and damp in some places; her skin still coated with bits of dirt and blood too; her arm was held up by a makeshift bandage. But she was there, talking to a blonde woman on a stretcher; she was alive.

"Tara," you called quietly as your sight blurred over, and then a little louder, "Tara!"

She looked up, any words she'd been saying dying on her lips when she saw you. For a beat, it seemed as if she was assessing if you were real or not, before she was all but running towards you.

Not caring for consequences, you pushed the cop off of you and met her halfway — lucky for you he apparently noticed you really knew them.

"What are you doing here?" Tara's eyes were glinting under the red and blue lights, there were clear tracks on her cheeks where tears had run down.

"I was-" you tried, stumbling over your words as you took her in, all blood stains and bruises. You raised a hand to push back her fringe, the strands of hair were damp to the touch; from sweat or blood, you didn't want to know. "Mindy called, and scared the shit out of me. I came as fast as I could."

With her lower lip stuck between her teeth, Tara leaned into your touch. Her eyes closed tightly when your thumb traced the outline of her eyebrow.

"Are you okay? I mean of course you're not okay, what am I even-"

You were cut off when Tara threw herself at you. She pulled you close with her free hand, nails almost digging into your skin with the force of it as she buried her head on your shoulder.

Quiet sobs shook her body and you held her back the best you could whilst being mindful of her injuries. One of your hands cradled her head, fingers tangled in her dark hair as you breathed in everything that was her. "Shit, I don't know what I'd do if anything happened to you."

Tara only pushed herself into you more as you spoke. There was a beat, a moment of hesitance from someone who'd had the bitter taste of betrayal more than anyone should. Trust was a gamble, but when you had a place in her heart no one else could ever have, Tara knew you'd never break it. "I'm okay now," she spoke against you; and she believed it.

You only squeezed her tighter, pulling back just enough to land a kiss on her temple. And you allowed your lips to linger, to feel her skin against you and her heartbeat pressed to your own.

Tara melted in your hold, allowing you to support most of her weight. With her cheek pressed to your collarbone, she spoke; "you still owe me a date."

⋆* ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ

Thank you for reading this little story. Feedback and reblogs are literally what keep me motivated to continue posting here, so I’d appreciate it if you could take some time to reblog and comment if you want. <3

Tara’s taglist: @milkiane @v1ci0us @alexkolax

[your-nanas-house]

"Mine, darling"

◇ Pairing: Mob!Tom Riddle Sr X waitress!Reader

◇ Warnings: smut, Riddle, waitress and prostitute, age gap (both off age)

◇ Summary: Tom Riddle Sr attends an important meeting in a small bistro and takes a moment to appreciate the place or rather the worker.

◇ Note: Sorry for the mistakes and the English. Tom Riddle Sr is Tom Riddle's muggle father. @veroriddle this was my baby's idea, I made it an imagine...I hope you don't mind.

His warm and firm palm pressed more and more on your back, a small moan almost whine came out of your lips bruised by the previously exchanged kisses.

When you entered the bistro where you worked that day you expected a quiet evening, maybe some unpleasant and rude customers but you certainly didn't expect to meet one of the customers— from your second job, which you wanted to remain secret.

That evening, you put on your usual uniform which consisted of a shirt partly covered by a vest and a miniskirt that showed enough but not too much. Your hair were pulled up and the pen was held by your lips as you walked to the new costumers that walked in, to take just their orders— thing that changed as soon as you met those infamous light eyes that stared at yours before looking you up and down in silence.

It was enough, you were already melting and he just needed to find a moment to get you alone to have you like he wanted— after waiting and staring at the other men looking and flirting with you.

It passed nearly 20 minutes and your body was pressed against the sink of the bathroom, his eyes kept staring at yours as he gripped your hair in a tight grip to prevent your head to drop

"Always so thigh for me, darling" the man grunted, his free hand holding your hips in a tight grip as he slammed his cock back inside your soaked hole "Was thinking—" he groaned softly against your hear, continuing to talk even if your moans kept interrupting him "—about you".

You just hummed, not really listening to what the man, you learned was called Tom, was saying too lost in your own pleasure and the way he was thrusting mercifully in you while still kissing your bare back in a kind of loving and tender way

"Fuck, darling, taking it so good" Tom praised as he slowly reached his climax, his big hand with slender fingers moved from your hair down to your clit, making sure to make you you cum first so he could feel your abused walls clench around his stiff lenght— before shooting his load inside of you and help you put your clothes back on, just like he did while you adjusted your hair and makeup.

Your back was still facing Tom, he moved closer again when he fixed his suit just to kiss your cheek and place a £ 100 bank note on the dry sink, squeezing your ass as he whispered his goodbye and a small promise before leaving the bathroom.

You just took the money, your face flushed as you put them in your bra, and walked out of that room as well to continue your shift there.

Taglist:

@gabile18 , @mrsfullbuster500 , @rex-ray , @elizamalfoyy, @eovjjj , @wife-of-magic-monkeys , @jeremiah-va1eska , @gothamchic16, @rabbiteggz , @dieg0brandos-wife , @rottenecstasy , @lazyexcuse , @teh-vampire-bunny , @lobotomy-lover , @slasher-smasher , @sleepycreativewriter

[runningfrom2am]

cold nights // part twenty-nine

summary: you were back in the capitol, and you would be damned if you didn't try your hardest to make it worthwhile.

pairing: coriolanus snow x fem!reader

wc: 4.2k

masterlists / nav / requests

tags/warnings: tribute!reader and mentor!coriolanus, r is very sweet (too kind for this world. literally.), sunshine x grumpy trope kinda, he falls first, violence typical for the source material, depictions of mental illness, also she's is very smart (as she should), district twelve!reader.

a/n: ahh shit really hits the fan in this one oops

my asks are also open to talk about this series! (i do have emoji anons open now too!)

send me any and all of your thoughts! here!

series masterlist // playlist

"Coryo." You hum, knocking on your boyfriend's doorframe.

He looks up from his desk, smiling as he sees you standing in the door. You were still wearing what you had worn to class that day, a button up shirt he had bought for you with the orange skirt Tigris made, short and simple as if it was made by your own mother. It matched perfectly with his own mother's scarf that you always wore out, that was left draped over your shoulders. You were looking at him like you needed something, and it just made him light up.

"Love," He closes his book and stands up. "What do you need?" He asks, quickly pushing up his unstyled hair out of his face- the curls were beginning to come back, but they weren't quite as long as they once were. When he's with you, which is almost always, he makes a very conscious effort to keep it up and away from his face.

Your hands are tucked behind your back, nervously twisting your fingers. "Why must you assume that I need something?" You giggle.

"Because I know that look." He pokes your nose as he gets close enough to do so, now standing a foot away and looking at you expectantly.

"Okay, fine." You sigh. "I was wondering if you had any plans for Halloween."

"Hallo-what?" He asks, tilting his head at you. Your jaw drops.

"Halloween." You say again, wondering if it was possible he just misheard you.

He laughs, eyebrows raised in clear confusion.

"You don't know what Halloween is? You don't celebrate here?" You gasp.

"No, sorry."

"Oh my god, okay. Well, we must do something." You clap excitedly.

"Slow down, darling. You're gonna have to tell me what it is before I can agree." He chuckles, holding a hand out you to stop you before you got too excited.

"Okay, okay." You agree. "So, it's a holiday, similar to Christmas if you have that."

"Of course we have Christmas."

"How was I supposed to know?" You laugh. "Anyway, it's mostly for little kids, but still. Basically, on the last day of the month everyone dresses up in costumes of monsters or animals or different jobs- whatever you want, and the kids go knocking door to door and adults will give them treats."

"Treats." He states, but it comes out more like a question.

"Yes. Like cookies, or candy if you have it, really anything." You grin, nodding at him excitedly. "My Ma usually makes fudge."

"Okay..." Coryo laughs. "So... sorry, I'm confused. What do we do? Hand out candy to kids who won't come because no one's heard of it here?"

"That's the best part!" You clap. "We aren't parents; old enough to be stuck handing out candy, and we aren't young enough to go trick or treating, so we get to have the most fun."

"Okay..." He urges you on.

"We get to have a party!"

"A party." He eyes you a little bit skeptically.

"Yes!"

"Since when do you like to party?" He seems wholly unconvinced.

"I don't, but it's tradition! I always have fun, I just don't drink much anymore. It'll be good to make friends, Coryo. Please?"

"Anymore?" He laughs, but quickly shakes his head to stay focussed on what you were asking of him. "Love, I wish we could but I don't know where we'd have a party, we can't have it here."

You frown, thinking for a moment. "Oh! I'll call Sej." You grin, already bounding off down the hall toward the phone.

That was that, he couldn't change your mind even if he desired to- but really, if a party would make you happy, then you would get a party. He would make sure of it.

You had spent weeks handing out invitations to the other people in your classes, most of which, as you noticed, ended up in the trash cans or littering the halls. You didn't let it bother you, Coryo insisted that people just didn't tend to hold on to those kinds of things and it didn't mean they wouldn't come. (What you didn't know, was his near-constant cleanup efforts of asking anyone he knew or had classes with to come to his "costume party"- and people didn't like to say no to Coriolanus Snow.)

You had come up with a plan. Coryo would say it was his party, and he would be hosting it at the Plinth's estate. You couldn't run the risk of putting your name on the idea, especially after your interview assuring parents that you were just there to learn- not fraternize. You didn't mind, you knew more people would want to come if it was his party, and that it wasn't a "Halloween" party. Just a costume party that happened to land on the district holiday that none of these kids nor their parents knew about. Hopefully.

You were incredibly excited. You spent the days after Sejanus's parents left town over there making decorations, and begrudgingly, Coryo joined you after realizing you weren't only there to drop things off.

He never pictured himself spending so much money on orange and black coloured paper, but here he was. The list of things he would do for you is growing by the day, surprising even himself.

You had put a lot of time into your costumes, with Tigris's help over the last couple of weeks. It wasn't anything crazy, just a white dress and some small angel wings, and for Coryo a gray shirt with leather straps, some light chain mail on the shoulders, and silver sleeves. You were very proud of them, but you hadn't shown him yet. You would be Romeo and Juliet, and you thought it was just perfect.

You smile as you knock on his bedroom door, already in your costume. You would get there a little early to help Sejanus with some final touches, but you did have a lot of people confirm with Coryo that they were coming. You were excited.

He opens the door, his breath dying out in his throat as he takes in your outfit. He must have died and gone to heaven. "Well hello, angel." He grins as he regains himself, opening the door fully for you to come in.

"Do you like it?" You ask, giving a quick spin even as you're holding his matching costume behind your back.

"You look beautiful." He says quietly, nodding as he eyes how the white satin clings to your figure. He couldn't think of a more fitting costume for you; although to him, you always looked like an angel. But now, more beautiful than ever. Ethereal. "It's stunning, love."

"Thank you!" You smile, pulling his forward and holding the folded mix of fabrics up to him. "This is yours."

"Mine?" He asks, a confused smile on his face as he grabs it and unfolds it carefully. "What is it?"

"You're a knight!" You say, clapping your hands together excitedly. "Well, you're Romeo as a knight. And I'm Juliet." You grin, holding the hem of your dress and prompting him to look at it again.

"Romeo and Juliet." He chuckles, nodding slightly as he looks between the two.

"Yeah!" You smile excitedly. "Romeo! Here's drink. I drink to thee."

He laughs, nodding as he closes the door behind you and pulls off his shirt to put on the costume you made for him. "I love it, Y/N/N. Thank you."

"Of course." You nod excitedly. "I've always wanted to do a couples costume."

"Is that a thing?" He asks, getting ready to pull it over his head.

"Yes. It's so sweet! Couples will wear matching costumes and that's how you know they're together, I always loved looking at other peoples." You explain. "My parents always do matching costumes. One year, they both dressed up as cats. My mom made the ears out of felt, and they carried Tybs to the door with them to hand out candy. It was so cute. Like I said, they do matching costumes every year."

In your rambling, you don't notice how he freezes up completely, face falling. Hesitantly, he pulls it over his head. "How do I look?" He asks, gluing a smile back on.

You smile, nodding at him. "So handsome, Coryo." You confirm. "Tigris helped me make it."

"It's... a little uncomfortable." He tells you, pretending to adjust the light chainmail that hung over his chest.

You frown, reaching out to help him adjust it for a moment. "Is that better?"

He hates to do this- it fits perfectly, but he can't have people knowing you're together. Not yet. "Uh..." The hopeful look in your eyes breaks his heart. "Yeah, that's better." He nods, relieved by the smile that returns to your face.

"Are you ready to go, then?" You ask, tilting your head at him.

"Just give me ten minutes, love. Would you mind gathering up our drinks?" He asks, kissing your forehead.

"Of course, Romeo." You giggle, turning on your heel and leaving, closing the door gently behind you.

He hates himself for what he knows has to do.

When you got to Sejanus's house, you were practically vibrating with excitement as you ran around hanging up decorations and placing and replacing drinks and snacks on the tables, moving them around.

"Sej?" You ask, standing on a stool to be able to reach up above a doorframe.

"Yeah?" He calls back from across the room, turning to look at you.

"I'm out of tape, could you grab me another roll? We brought some, it's in the kitchen. Coryo will tell you which bag." You explain and he nods, giving you a quick thumbs up as he walks by and down the hall. 

Walking into the entrance to the kitchen, his eyes go wide.

There's Coryo, holding out the front of his shirt over the sink and pouring a glass of red wine down the front. Extremely, very intentionally.

"Uh... what are you doing?" He asks, and Coryo's head snaps up, eyes panicked.

"Uh, shit, I..." He laughs slightly, placing the glass down quickly and turning on the tap. "I tripped and, god I don't really know. I'm just trying to get this out..."

Sejanus nodded slightly, trying to hide how unconvinced he was. "I don't know if that will come out." He states.

"Shit..." Coryo sighs, albeit dramatically. If Sejanus hadn't just seen him do what he just did, he would be convinced. Coryo would make a good actor. "Well... Do you have something else I could wear?"

"Yeah... uh, yeah. Just go into my closet and help yourself." Sejanus tells him, gesturing down the hall.

"Thanks," Coryo says, brushing past him eagerly all ready to go and change into something else.

Your friend swallows, watching him as he disappears down the hall. Sejanus knew you had spent hours putting together that costume for him, could he even tell you that he saw Coryo ruin it on purpose? It would break your heart- but he did really want to know why.

Sejanus couldn't tell you. You were having fun, or at least trying to, and he didn't want to ruin that. People were talking to you, and to him, which was kind of new territory for the both of you. Your interview and your kindness in classes and to everyone you met did wonders for your reputations as "District kids". Surprisingly, your classmates had lots of questions and none of them seemed to have any real problems with you in a less pressurized setting. The alcohol was likely a contributing factor.

"Yes! Well, we'd go to the lake a lot. Oh! So, one time, my brother and I spent all day dragging this old barrel up a cliffside just to hang it off a tree at the top. We just spent our time doing the most random stuff." You giggle over the music, clutching your glass to your chest as you continue on a conversation with Hilarius, who you saw as a new friend even though Coryo wasn't his biggest fan. You had probably a little bit too much to drink, spurred on by your nervousness.

"A barrel..?" Hilarius laughs, tilting his head at you. 

"Well, yeah, what kind of stuff did you do for fun, then?" You ask over the loud music.

"Chess, I suppose. Reading, I don't know. Fun wasn't really on the schedule." He explains.

"Well, I'd rather drag a barrel up a hill than do nothing, wouldn't you?" You laugh.

"Touché." He tilts his glass at you before taking a sip.

"Y/N, can I steal you for a second?" You hear Sejanus say in your ear, suddenly beside you and you nod, politely dismissing yourself from the conversation.

You follow him down the hall to an empty corner. He couldn't take it anymore, he had to tell you. "I'm sorry about Coryo's costume, I know you worked hard on it." He says honestly.

"It is okay. Spills happen." You smile.

"Well, yes..." He agrees, looking around quickly to make sure he can't spot Coryo's blonde hair in the vicinity. It was a rare moment he wasn't with you, so now was his only shot. "But... it wasn't an accident."

"What do you mean?" You ask, tilting your head at him with a slightly nervous smile.

"Y/N I... I watched him pour the wine on it. Like, very intentionally."

You don't know what to say, slightly shocked. After a moment of him watching your expression evolve, you begin to laugh. "No, no. Sej, I love you, but how much did you drink before we got here? Because he wouldn't-"

"Nothing." He answers shortly, giving a firm shake of his head. "Not a drop, Y/N/N. I swear."

Your smile fades slightly at his abrupt statement. "Well..." You say quietly. "Why would he do that?"

"I don't know, but I know better than to be the one to bring it up to him. You should ask."

"I mean, he said it wasn't very comfortable before we left the house. Maybe he just didn't want to hurt my feelings." You smile to yourself, nodding as you decide.

"By ruining something you made for him? Yeah, that'll spare your feelings." Sejanus scoffs, looking past you once more to make sure Coriolanus wasn't nearby.

"He tried to spare them, I assume." You sigh, giving him a reassuring smile in hopes that he won't let it worry him. "It's okay. Thank you, Sej, for telling me, but it's really not a big deal."

The knowledge that Coryo ruined his costume on purpose was eating you alive. The feeling of dread sat deep in your chest where it apparently couldn't be drowned out with more wine or posca or anything that you could find or was offered to you. It made you so horribly sad, that even though you couldn't seem to find your boyfriend in any room of the large house you weren't sure if you even wanted to.

Talking to strangers helped, meeting new people. Some people you shared classes with, and you could mostly discuss that. It was a lot of explaining and reexplaining that people in the Districts were more or less normal, just with less access to resources. You got a few laughs out of that, but a surprising amount of understanding nods. Maybe all hope wasn't lost.

You were here to have fun. It wasn't like Halloween parties back home, and the sheer volume of boys in their own father's old peacekeeper uniforms was chilling to you. Even back home, where you knew those old uniforms were lying folded up in an attic somewhere, very few kids would dare touch them even to make a joke out of it. You couldn't take it anymore, deciding to just step out onto the back patio to get some fresh air.

The air hits your lungs and brushes over your skin, instantly giving you chills but you don't mind. Hearing talking over to your right, you take a look only to see Coryo with a few of your classmates, smiling as he leaned back against the wall of the house. A couple of faces you recognized, and one you didn't.

You smile as you walk over to them, squeezing in next to Coryo. "Clemmie, Livia. It's good to see you." You smile at them, and Clemmie gives a polite nod while Livia just takes another sip out of her glass while the other boy with them just continues talking.

"I don't believe we've met, sorry." You smile at him during a break in his story, extending a hand to him. "My name is Y/N. What's yours?"

He laughs, hesitantly shaking your hand. "Festus. Festus Creed." He tells you.

"Lovely to meet you, Festus." You grin. "Are you a friend of Coryo's?"

"Yeah, you could say that." He chuckles and you look up at your boyfriend who suddenly looks annoyed, rolling his eyes.

"I just love meeting his friends." You smile excitedly. "Are you studying at the university? I haven't seen you before." You say, folding your arm around Coryo's and he tenses up, not so subtly shaking you off.

You look up at him for a moment, a confused smile on your face from his actions.

"Would you mind giving me some space?" He asks coldly, almost glaring at you. Your eyes flick to his, but it's dark. They're cold, icy blue even in the poor lighting. His cheeks are flushed, but maybe that's from the chill.

"Oh, sorry." You laugh nervously, taking a step back and abandoning your conversation. "I... um, I'm gonna go get some water. It was nice to see you." You wave quickly to his friends, turning and heading for the door.

"Sorry, apparently my tribute gets touchy when she drinks." You hear Coriolanus laugh behind you as you enter the house again. It was met by laughs from the rest of the group he was with, and your heart dropped practically out of your chest and onto the floor. You wouldn't have been shocked if you looked down and saw your white dress absorbing the remains of your heart.

Your white feather angel wings catch on the curtain of the door as you close it behind you, and you want to scream and rip them off as you feel tears well up in your eyes. You look around for your best route of escape, feeling the familiar tightness in your chest begin to build.

You'll have to go along the wall- clinging to the outside of the room as you avoid the chaos of the middle in an effort to make it up to Sejanus's room. You'd be alone there.

Tears stream down your cheeks as you keep your head up, eyes locked on the entrance to the foyer with the large staircase, which you know you can take to get to your friend's room. Your fight or flight is kicking in, you think, as the music and laughter and voices fade into nothing. You almost expect the familiar clang of a metal weapon to sound out in front of you as it slams into the wall- but you have to make a very conscious effort to remind yourself that you aren't in the arena anymore. Even if it felt like it more and more with every step.

Shutting the door to Sejanus's bedroom, you quickly shuffle over to his bathroom and lock yourself in, freezing when you catch a look at yourself in the reflection. She was hardly a reflection of you; tear-stained cheeks, angel wings- when you knew that these days you were just about the farthest thing from it. You had changed. You hardly recognized her, and that's the thing that forced you to look away.

You don't even hear someone enter the room until there's knocking on the bathroom door. "Y/N? Are you in there?" Lyssie asks, concern dripping through her tone.

You sniff, quickly wiping your eyes. "Yeah! Yeah, I just need a moment." You choke out, trying and failing to keep your voice steady.

"Are you okay?" She asks through the door, wiggling the handle now. "What happened?"

"I'm fine just fine." You insist, laughing nervously as you look down at how badly your hands are shaking.

"Can I come in? Can you open the door for me?"

God, how you wished it was Lucy Gray on the other side.

But Lucy Gray isn't here. Lysistrata Vickers is all you have- so with shaky hands you reach for the door and unlock it, letting her in. She won't hurt you, you're sure.

Her eyes are already wide with worry as she gets her first glimpse at you. "Oh, Y/N, what's wrong?" She asks, stepping in and quickly closing the door behind herself. "Here, sit down..." She nods to the floor, which has clearly been recently cleaned. Even so, she pulls a towel from the rack and lays it out for you to sit on.

"I'm just a little too drunk." You sniff, trying to dismiss her worries, and slide down against the wall on top of the towel she laid for you as sobs take over you.

"Want to tell me what happened?" She asks again, hurriedly reaching for a smaller towel and wetting it with what you assume is cold water, wringing it out before joining your side on the floor.

"Nothing." You shake your head and bring your hands up to cover your face as you cry into them. "I can't... I can't tell you."

"Okay, that's okay..." She soothes you. "Here, this will help. Can you move your hands for me?"

She doesn't want to touch you, no one really does. You lower your hands, squeezing them tight together in your lap as she carefully reaches up to dab the cloth across your forehead. It does feel good on your burning skin.

You focus on taking deep breaths, trying not to embarrass yourself any further.

"There you go..." She smiles. "You're good at this."

You laugh through your tears. "Well, it comes with my title, I guess." You sniff, wiping your cheeks again.

"I'd bet..." She hums. "But you're doing great."

You just nod slightly, running through lines in your head out of nervous habit. "I love him, oh, I love him; but he won't let himself be loved."

You don't even realize you're saying it out loud to yourself until Lysistrata speaks. "Is it... Is this about Coriolanus?" She asks, and you don't want to tell her that it's a quote from a story of her namesake because ironically, she is right, and ironically, that was the only line you could think of when you strained to remember any of it.

You nod slightly, biting into your lip and letting your shoulders shake with the latest round of sobs.

"Oh, I'm sorry..." She gently rubs your shoulder. "He's... He's not very sensitive to people's feelings. I know that. Just try not to take it personally. It's not your fault."

"How could it be anyone else's?" You sniff. "I embarrass him... But I try so hard to be good. I try so hard..." You cry, wet eyes making it hard to see.

Lyssie looks at you, a little confused. "What did he say?" She asks.

"That..." You hiccup, trying to breathe through it so you can explain better. "That I needed to give him space, all I was doing was standing next to him." You sniff again, wiping your eyes. "And he called me his tribute to his friends- it made me feel just sick... And earlier Sej told me that he ruined the costume I made him on purpose, we were supposed to match! Now I just look like I'm desperate for people to like me- dressing up as an angel when everyone here knows what I did! I don't know what I did wrong... Why does he hate me now?"

She watches you silently, trying to put together the pieces. 

"I don't understand." You say again, shaking your head. "He told me he loved me this morning! I don't know what I did to change that..."

"Sorry, he said he loved you?" Lyssie asks, eyes wide.

You nod slightly, looking over at her. Why does she seem so shocked?

"Wait, Y/N..." She pauses, shaking her head slightly. "Are you guys like... together?"

"Mhm." You swallow, wiping under your eyes. "But apparently not anymore."

"Oh my god, I had no idea." She stammers out, snapping out of her shock to pat the cloth on your head again.

"You didn't?" You sniff. "He didn't tell you?"

"No." She shakes her head, but quickly continues. "I'm sorry, he doesn't tell much to anyone, though..."

You let out a shaky breath, leaning your head back against the wall. "I should have known this couldn't work. I feel so stupid."

"He shouldn't have led you on like that..." She replies quietly. "I don't know a whole lot about you, but I know you're not stupid. I also know that Coriolanus always gets what he wants, one way or another."

"I just want to go home..." You cry, shaking your head. "I want to go home."

Lyssie looks back to the door, gently dabbing the damp material across your forehead. "I'm going to go get Sejanus, okay? Can you hold this on your head for me?" She carefully passes the cloth into your shaking hands and you nod, leaning your head down against it instantly.

She gets up and leaves, carefully and quietly closing the door behind herself. If one person in this city knew even a little bit about what you were feeling or how to help, it would be Sejanus Plinth.

taglist: @soulessjourney , @that-veela-girl ,  @dreamyysouls, @rockstarbfs, @maysileeewrites , @baybieruth , @kitscutie,  @fratboyharrysgf0201 , @totallynotkaibiased , @stelleduarte , @secretsicanthideanymore , @bejeweledreverie , @drewsandsebastianswife , @niicole-87 , @queenofshinigamis , @innercreationflower , @nallasstuff , @iovemoonyy , @thatmarvelchick19 , @wearemadeofstardust0 , @regulusblackcore , @puredreamagination , @fantasticchaosthing , @becauseseaotters , @secretsicanthideanymore , @strawberryflavouredkisses-deact, @cascadingbliss

okay suddenly tumblr isn't letting me tag more people than this so i just made some cuts unfortunately :') i just left the max amount of people i could whose users i recognized and see in my notifs all the time :) if you're not on here and you should be i'm so sorry!

also this taglist is closed now!! if you’d like to get a notification when i update, turn on my post notifications!! i promise i won’t spam y'all :,)

[igotanidea]

Judgement: Benedict Bridgerton x actress!reader

Requested by @jaysgirlx <3

***

She wasn’t the most beautiful.

Or the most talented.

And definitely not born in the best family.

Nonetheless, neither of us, no matter how much willpower we are endowed with, has the possibility of choosing the environment we are born into. That is solely up to fate.

What we can choose, however, is how we adapt to the circumstances, how we behave, who we become and how we cope with the opinions that are – more often than not – negative and critical.

Especially when a woman, regardless of standards of an ossified, prejudiced society decides to make a living by being an actress. For Y/N Y/L/N no work was dishonorable. For the ladies of the ton, such profession was almost equal with being a lady of easy virtue. For the men – well- the behavior of some of them was below any norms of decency.

Funny how the point of view depends on the point of sitting.

***

She was late again.

For the third time this week and it was barely Wednesday. Not a good scorecard she kept and it definitely got under the skin of the theater owner. Y/N could not quite comprehend why the gentleman was so irritated since from the moment she stepped foot in that sanctuary of art she has been doing every single thing needed. Not only acting, but also cleaning the floor if required, repairing the costumes, helping with the dialogues. Very versatile all things considered.

Desperate for a job and survival? No, not entirely, maybe a little.

Enamored and passionate by the employ that gave her a bread and a questionable opinion. Yes, absolutely.

Rushing through the busy London streets, miraculously avoiding respectable matrons and their equally respectable lord consorts was not the best of the ideas of reducing, even to a small extent, the extent of her delay.

Y/N did not pay much attention while crossing the street either, obviously missing the speeding carriage and the moment she looked to the right, finding herself mere inches from the hooves of spooked horses, her entire life flashed in front of her eyes.

She let out a embarrassingly high cry of shock and freeze on the spot, mentally preparing herself of leaving the globe and letting her spirit fly away to some better world just like Julia Capulet did after her beloved Romeo—

“Watch out!” a man’s voice, a firm yet gentle grip of hand on her waist and a second later she was safely back on the pavement, sustaining no permanent injuries, save for rapid breathing and slightly flushed cheeks. “Are you all right, my lady?”

“I am not a lady.” She retorted automatically shaking her head and slowly raising her gaze to give thanks to her lifesaver “Mr. Bridgerton!” the second son of the late viscount was definitely not the person she expected to see and it made her take a step back immediately.

Almost ending up under another carriage if it wasn’t for Benedict Bridgerton’s reflexes and a bright, teasing smile.

“You don't learn from your mistakes, my lady” he teased “am I this repulsive to make you step away upon noticing my face? Is this how women behave this day?”

“Forgive me my Lord, I was blinded by all your glory” she almost rolled her eyes, saying the words before biting her own tongue. “oh…” the gasps that came out of her mouth a moment later only caused Benedict to laugh wholeheartedly.

“Not the usual reaction I get from a woman.”

“I can tell, my lord. I am sure ladies do swoon at the sight of you. And now that Viscount Bridgerton had tied the marriage knot you sure are looking for a wife so –” she sopped in the middle of the sentence realizing she was babbling again.

“Oh so you are a woman after all. Gossiping.” Benedict smirked.

“I beg your pardon!”

“Do I know you from somewhere?” he tilted his head examining her face trying to assess the possibility of them meeting before.

“No, my lord. I do not believe we have met.”

“May I have your name then, my lady?”

“Not a lady, my lord. And you should not preoccupy the place in your head with remembering my name.” she bowed, lacking skills a bit and – suddenly remembering that she was late – rushed to the theater.

Benedict Bridgerton.

Of course they have met before, but why would she remind him of the circumstances of the event happening so many weeks ago?

He was a student in the art academy, lately enhancing his skills in the portrait area, polishing the subject of anatomy. Both male and female, with the latter obviously much more involving in many hands-on way and that was not a secret. Those models were beautiful and fragile after all and being confronted with the harsh reality of XIX century London they had nothing more to offer than their bodies. Y/N almost ended up the same, but her talent for acting changed everything.

Regardless, her older brother was earning some additional funds by assisting the students, providing canvas, brushes, paints, wine, measures of various kinds. Whatever the domineering might wish for. And one day she was visiting him, entering the classroom without the knowledge that the lesson was still in progress.

And so she ended up in the middle of the room full of men with a naked model on the platform, under the barrage of astonished glances.

“Oh look, we got another one to help us study today!” one of the men cried out and the entire room started laughing. “You ought to wait for your turn, sweetheart. Do not fret though, we’ll take proper care of you.”

She blushed like a peony, her hands trembling a little.

“I was eagerly awaiting the moment when the Academy will provide us with a full shaped, average of beauty woman and here we are! My prayers have been answered, gentlemen!”

She blushed even more at the clear invective threw her way. Men could really behave like animals in their own company. Zero decency, respect for others or moderation. And the worst part was that all the ton knew about this open secret and gave their universal consent to that. Men were supposed to have their flings before marriage even if that meant a lot of improper things.

Her half-furious, half-hurt eyes scanned the room, taking in all the men gathered their and their attire, not paying much attention to either before landing on that one person who actually looked like having at least a little self-reflection.

Benedict Bridgerton.

Frozen with the brush in his hand and slightly unbuttoned shirt, torn between joining the common laugh on her expense and putting an end to this merciless, ongoing teasing. Before he could do a thing however she put an end to his misery and left the room with the solemn resolution to never interact with any of those debauched animals.

Judging Benedict as quickly and easily as all the society judged her.

***

“Quickly! We’re almost starting and you cannot seem to be on time even once!”

“I am—”

“do not interrupt me girl, put on the costume and get on the stage! I swear one of those days you will make me do the thing I will regret!”

***

That woman spurred some memories in Benedict’s mind even if couldn’t fully put all the pieces of the picture together. At least not until Eloise playfully smacked his side.

“What?”

“Do you know who you just saved?”

“That girl back there?” he massaged the sore place giving his sister a reproachful look “no idea. Should I know her?”

“That’s Y/N Y/L/N!”

“Uh… okay?”

“She’s an actress!”

“Um…”

“She’s a self-made, independent woman not looking for marriage and free of societal expectations!”

“You better not let out mother find out that a woman with no title is your role model.”

“Oh I’d be more than happy to let her know that. I believe that the amount of injustice put on women-“

“I do realize the amount of your thoughts in the subject.”

“Since when are you judgmental?” Eloise scoffed

“I am not!”

“Fine then Come see her performance with me.”

***

Y/N was almost pushed on the stage, without having any time to gather her thoughts or to revise her role, forced to improvise by putting on a bright fake smile and subjecting the audience to a minute or two of suspension, before realizing what she was supposed to play that day.

Clearing her throat and fixing her costume she stepped into the light, joining the rest of the cast on the stage and started giving her lines.

Any other time she would be focused solely on the scene and words coming out her mouth making sure each of them were perfectly accentuated and spoke just the right way.

So what was this inexplicable instinct that made her scan the audience?

Spotting him.

With his eyes fixed on her, showing something that could not be mistaken for anything else but sheer admiration.

And she did not like it at all.

to be continued? ;)

[partycatty]

I can't get enough of young Johnny MK11! I love him, god!🥵 How do you like this topic for fanfic? Fem!reader put his jacket and glasses on his naked body, and took sexy selfies.😎❤️‍🔥 Johnny saw this aaand here I’m already giving way to your fantasy hehe~

Thank you in advance! I like the way you write! Well done💕

i'm not sure if i read it right ?? lmk, but i went with my interpretation

johnny cage > call me

johnny's out late working, as usual. you've had enough of waiting and decide to bait him into coming home early

warnings: PHONE SEX TEEHEE

notes: do you guys also like genuinely tweak out wishing he was real? he's so perfect? peak malewife? wishing u were [REDACTED] his [REDACTED] rn?

masterlist

• you were often left to your own devices when it came to living with johnny. he, after all, was a star constantly running around on new projects. any studio would be at his knees for just one contract. he was hollywood's richest man, and you were lucky to call him your boyfriend.

• sure, it had it's moments. the paps stealing upskirt shots from you wasn't ideal, neither was the bush stalking. but you could see past that. what was hardest was when johnny would be gone all through the night, dressed in that stupid ninja mime getup that you learned to loathe since it pulled him away more than his other works. does the world really need a ninja mime trilogy? yes, apparently.

• boredom overtook you, since browsing on your phone for eight hours was now becoming a horrible habit on your neck - and mental stability. you took to mopping the floors, tidying the countertops, dusting his awards. finally, you settled on your walk-in closet.

• it was spacious, big enough for you to each get a side. your side was always decently organized to your liking, but johnny's was... atrocious. jackets hung on one sleeve, some on the floor. the only thing that was neatly organized on his side was the giant rack of sunglasses. he always had a pair to match the outfit and occasion. he probably had about three pairs on him at work.

• as you tried to rearrange his clothing, his distinct, classy scent filled your nose, sticking to the inside of your nose and you couldn't help but feel heated. you missed him, him and his dick. you took a deep whiff of his iconic blue and purple jacket, the one he left at home knowing he'd have to get in costume anyway.

• you threw it over yourself, embracing your torso and spinning in the mirror. it fit him perfectly, but on you it was like a blanket. the sleeves sagged off of your arms and your midsection was swimming. his size was impressive, his form shaped like a greek god.

• you couldn't help yourself, the memories of him and scent turned you on. blame pheromones, dammit! but, you realized you could take advantage of this.

• throwing your shirt off, you donned the jacket again, wearing it like he does - chest exposed. a purple pair of sunglasses practically screamed your name from the rack and you put them on. you looked just like him...! no, not really.

• touching yourself in his clothes was not a new idea, but there certainly was a new idea blossoming in your head. you pulled your phone out and snapped a mirror selfie, trying to flex like he does but your muscles were muffled from the loose fabric.

• how's this for the next cagecon? you text johnny, attaching the photo. you didn't expect him to reply right away, considering he was at work. but before you could lock your phone for the moment, his name popped up within milliseconds.

• don't take me away from work, baby! johnny replies with a winking emoji.

• what if i want to? it's so lonely in your mansion, you reply with an angel emoji, sitting on the edge of your shared bed as you fight a grin. you angle the phone downward, capturing your bare chest. your nipples brush against the jacket, making them stick out through the front. johnny takes a moment to reply, but you feel your phone vibrate once, then twice, then three times.

• fuck, you're so hot in my clothes.

• i'm taking my break early. can't work with a boner.

• the third message was a short video of him palming himself through that stupid costume. the only thing you can thank that outfit for is how prominent it makes his bulge.

• phone sex through texts was also nothing new to you two, considering the distance. as your fingers sink under your panties, assuming that's where things will go before you get a fourth message.

• call me. please.

• you sit up straight, biting your lip. his desperation always got you going. you kicked your pants and panties aside.

• you send one last photo, your body spread out on the bed in his clothes. your hand conceals your dripping pussy playfully.

• why should i? you shoot the message out, giggling at your own words.

• johnny doesn't even reply, he opens your message and calls you. you eagerly accept his call. his voice is echoey and rough. you realize he's hiding in the bathroom. his breathing is heavy.

• "are you proud of yourself?" he asks in a low rumble, trying to stay quiet but his flustered huffing makes his voice whiny. "look at what you did."

• he sends a photo. his cock is eager and out, and you see a teardrop of precum on his tip. you happily exchange that photo for another one, a short video of you gingerly touching yourself. he lets out a breath he didn't know he was holding.

• "i couldn't wait til i'd get home," he admits, and you hear the slick sounds of him jerking off. "i want to, i want to come home and fuck you like that, but i'm here for another two hours."

• "you couldn't have waited?" you ask in disbelief, circling small loops on your aching clit.

• "no." johnny's reply sounded so sure of himself, so convinced in his words. he was as firm as he would've been if you asked him if he killed someone. he knew this to be a fact, he could not wait. "i can't help it, sweetheart. you're just so... god."

• his breaths get heavier and needier, you can sense he's speeding up on himself. you try to match what you assume is his pace, one that he confirms through another video. he held the phone below his dick, giving you a delicious view of his abs and bobbing adam's apple as he swallowed hungrily.

• his arms were painted white, but his hands were his usual flesh tone since he wore gloves for the costume. even still, his veins were incredibly prominent and really helping you reach your climax.

• "we gotta make this quick, baby," he grumbles into the phone, muffling his moans through bitten lips. you're a little louder due to your privacy, much to his delight. "people'll start looking for me."

• "johnny," you whimper out, back arching up off of the bed. "i'm already close." through your haze, you get a video of you masturbating wildly, the jacket now sliding down to your sides and fully revealing your tits as you fuck yourself. "i-i need you, i need you so bad-"

• "i know, baby," he breathlessly replies, straining himself to avoid moaning out your name and attracting attention. "let me hear how badly you need me."

• you could only spew out utter nonsense at this point as your orgasm is dangerously close. he seems to get the memo, though, and gives you permission to cum with him. your needy cries and his muffled grunts make a perfect chorus that you only wish were in person.

• when your breathing slows, as does his, you hear him chuckle to himself. a new message appears in your chat.

• his weeping dick was cradled in his palm, as was a entire handful of semen dripping down his fingers. he wanted to show you just how hard you made him cum from phone sex alone.

• "round one was now," he mumbles as you hear him tear a piece of toilet paper to wipe his hand. "round two is when i get home. you gonna be ready for it, princess?"

• the phone rests on your bare, damp chest as you fixate on the ceiling. you take the sunglasses off and wipe your face with a smile.

• "i'm always ready," you reply with a giggle.

• "that's my girl. see you in two hours. i love you." and with that, he hangs up, leaving you a naked, sweaty mess that's only concealed in his jacket.

[golbrocklovely]

a witching hour // sam golbach

A/N: so i actually thought of this fic as a colby fic first, but i needed a fic idea for sam and figured this one worked well for him as well. idk if you've ever seen halloweentown two, but there is a party scene where kalabar turns everyone into what their costumes are, and that's kinda what this one is like. except with a bit of sexy twist lol hope you enjoy and happy 13 nights of halloween !!

prompt: something is incredible off at sam and colby's halloween party. everyone is acting like their costumes, and nothing makes sense. and then you run into sam… dressed as a vampire. || fem!reader x sam golbach

trigger warning: vampire!sam, cursing, drinking, party scene, mentions of blood and killers but you don't see any of that, blood drinking obviously, crush-confession, twist ending?, manipulation powers used on reader, possessive language used by sam, also he's a bit of a dick in this lol but only slightly

word count: 3381

I constantly run late to everything: meetings, work, important events, and on this night... parties.

It was Sam and Colby's annual Halloween bash. After yet another successful Hell Week, the boys were throwing an all-out banger with every influencer in sight. And I, like usual, ran late to the party.

I'm not sure if you can be late to a party like this, but my texts from Sam and Colby said otherwise.

My excuse this time? I couldn't figure out my costume. I couldn't decide between two costumes, so I ended up going as a witch. Basic, I know, but classic. I finally called an uber, after pregaming a little at my apartment, and headed over to their place. On the way over, a flash of green lightning lit up the sky for a brief moment, in the same direction as their house. I stared at the window, puzzled. There's no way only one flash of thunder would happen if it was going to rain. Especially being green. It must have been a light show or fireworks nearby.

I got dropped off at the front of their house, sending them a quick text that I was outside. As I got to their gate, where usually there would have been a line with a security guard, there was nothing. Maybe I wasn't late after all and instead was super early. Checking the flyer they sent out, that wasn't true. It was already after midnight, and the party started at ten.

I walked into their property, shutting the gate behind me. I expected to see tons of people out front, since that usually was the case; but there was no one. The music was still playing loudly in the house, so there must have been people inside. As I walked towards the front door, I passed by a pile of Barbie dolls.

Who would bring a bunch of Barbies with them?

I glanced at the dolls, bending down, and picking one up. She was very pretty, but her outfit was unlike other Barbie fits I had seen before. Something about it was very revealing for a kids' toy. Granted, the last time I played with Barbies was when I was 10 so maybe my memory wasn't proof enough.

I stared at the doll's face a bit longer. Something about it was so familiar. She looked like someone I knew in the eeriest way. Staring at it too long, I thought I saw it blink. I lightly dropped the doll on the ground, standing back up again.

Just when I was about to open the front door, a soft 'meow' echoed behind me. I turned around and saw two cats, one all black and then another one.... that was pink.

Who the hell would dye their cat pink?

I wanted to reach out and pet them, but they scattered from the noise in front of me. The front door had opened on its own. I stepped forward, walking into Sam and Colby's home.

The place was completely trashed.

Furniture was ripped up, the mirror was smashed in, tables flipped over, cups all over the ground. It looked like a stampede ran through the house. I walked over the broken glass, looking around for anyone. I could see out the back door that no one was there either. Or if they were, they were hiding.

"Sam? Colby? Guys?" I called out, trying to reach for a light.

"Don't do that!" Responded a soft voice from a closet nearby.

I turned around and saw a friend of mine, Sarah, dressed as Rapunzel. She waved me over, opening the door quickly. I jumped over the broken furniture and made it over to her.

"Sarah, what the hell happened?" I asked as she closed the door.

"I'm sorry, you must have me mistaken for someone else. My name is Rapunzel." She smiled.

I rolled my eyes. "Okay, very funny, Sarah. But tell me. What happened? Did someone break into the house?"

"I don't really remember everything that happened. Everyone was outside, having fun. It was like the lantern festival! And then, a witch appeared on top of the house and yelled out something. It must have been a spell of some sort. And everybody started running." Sarah gasped, recounting the tale.

"How is that possible? And lantern festival? Why are you taking this costume to heart? I don't think this is the time for that." I glared, annoyed.

"This isn't a costume. This is how I always dress." She argued quietly.

"Rapunzel!" Someone yelled from behind the door. "Let me in! It's Velma."

"What's the password?" Sarah questioned, raising up a frying pan in defense.

Where the fuck did you get a frying pan from?

"Scooby snacks." Replied the voice.

"Oh okay," Sarah opened the door politely. "It is you Velma! I just had to be sure."

"You can never be too safe out there." Alice, another friend of mine, responded. I glanced up and down at her costume: Velma. From Scooby Doo.

I huffed, "Okay, you both seriously need to tell me what the fuck is going on?"

They both gasped. Sarah covered her ears lightly, in unison they hushed, "Language!"

"You're kidding me, right?" I deadpanned.

"Who are you?" Alice questioned.

"This is.... uh," Sarah started, then turned to me, smiling. "You actually haven't said your name."

"I'm Y/N..... we've known each other for like five years?" I scowled.

"We have?" They replied.

I rubbed my temples, feeling like my brain was going pop out of my eyes from how annoyed and confused I was. "Alright, can either one of you explain what is happening right now? Quickly."

"I can't remember much, but I've been searching for some clues while I was running around the house. What I remember happening was a witch of some kind appeared on top of the roof-" Alice began.

"Said some form of spell, and everyone started running? Yeah, 'Rapunzel' told me that already." I quipped.

"It wasn't just any spell, it was spell turned everyone into their costumes... whatever that means." Alice stated, putting her hands on her hips.

My face dropped. "I'm sorry, what?"

"Oh! Green lightning flashed over the sky when she said the spell!" Sarah jumped, excitedly. "She must have been an evil witch."

"Witches aren't real. It most likely was a trick of light, kind of like what magicians use to hide their tricks." Alice mentioned.

"I saw the lightning on my way over here...." I shook my head, sighing. "There's no way this is real. You guys must be pranking me or something. Is this Sam and Colby's doing?"

"I don't know who a 'Sam' or 'Colby" is." Sarah replied innocently.

"The guys that invited you to this party??" I pulled out my phone, pulling up a picture that one of them had posted on their snapchats. "These guys!"

"The vampire one went upstairs, and the pirate one is outside fighting a prince in the backyard." Alice pointed out, pointing to Sam, and then Colby.

"Fighting? What do you mean by that?" I furrowed my brow.

"With swords." Alice said plainly.

"Oh no! Your hand is bleeding!" Sarah gaped, gazing at Alice's hand.

"I must have cut it looking around for clues." Alice commented.

"What clues are you even...." I grumbled, trailing off and glaring up at the ceiling.

Sarah wrapped her hair around Alice's hand, holding it lightly. She then began to sing. "Flower, gleam and glow..."

Her hair began to light up slowly, starting from her scalp and eventually ending at the ends of her braided hair.

I can only imagine how expense that wig was.

Sarah pulled her hair away from Alice's cut... and it was gone.

I blinked. "I'm sorry, am I super drunk right now, or did your hair just heal her cut?"

"Jinkies..." Alice whispered, staring at her hand and blushing.

I took a deep breath, needing to get out of this closet. "I'm gonna go find Sam."

"He's a vampire, right? My mom warned me about men with sharp teeth. Be careful." Sarah informed.

"Right..." I opened the closet door, turning back around for a moment. "Hey Alice? I mean, Velma?"

"Yes?" She asked.

I grabbed her glasses off her face, dropping them onto the floor.

Sarah, Rapunzel, whatever, frowned dramatically. "Well, that wasn't very nice.

"My glasses.... I can't see without my glasses." Alice, Velma, whatever waved her hands around, trying to find where I dropped them.

"You don't even wear glasses! Oh my God, you guys are the worst!" I groaned, stepping out the closet and shutting the door.

I rushed over to the stairs, needing to get upstairs as soon as possible. As I reached the top, I gazed down over the railing. I watched as someone dressed as Ghostface ran after.... Britney Spears.

Britney Spears was at this party? Like 'Baby One More Time' Britney? There's no way. Maybe they weren't joking about the witch turning everyone into- NO. This is all some weird joke, probably pulled by Sam and Colby because of how often I'm late.

This isn't happening, this isn't happening, this is NOT happening.

I opened the bedroom door to what used to be Colby's room. I wanted to see the entire backyard from a safe distance. The room was dark, the only light coming from outside by the drawn curtains. I raced over to the windows, looking around outside. The backyard was equally as trashed.

A man-wolf monster stood on top of the slide for the pool, letting out a deep, animalistic howl. By the basketball courts, Colby was sword fighting with a guy dressed in a prince costume. Other people, or characters, were hiding around, peaking out occasionally from their spots. And I swore for a moment I saw someone fly away on a broom stick.

"What the fuck?" I whispered, my eyes widening at the scene.

"It's dangerous out there." A familiar voice rang out.

I jumped, a squeak leaving my lips as I turned around. In the shadows of the room was Sam, gazing at me mischievously.

"Oh my God, Sam. You scared the shit out of me." I clutched my chest, taking a deep breath. "What the fuck is going on?"

"A witch did this to us." Sam replied casually.

"That's what Alice and Sarah said. That a witch turned everyone into their costumes. Wait, how do you remember?" I inquired.

He shrugged, stepping towards me. "I'm just a generic vampire. So I guess I remember everything, and I'm still me."

"And since Colby dressed up as a pirate, he thinks he's a swash-buckler?" I joked half-heartedly.

"I guess so." Sam chuckled.

I questioned, "How long will this last?"

"An hour. So, in ten minutes it will be over." He confirmed, crossing his arms tightly.

I sat down on the edge of the bed, "Oh, well that's good. Since I think I saw Ghostface trying to kill Britney Spears."

"That would be such a waste of blood..." Sam's voice deepened.

I leaned away from his voice, "That was kinda freaky of you to say."

He smirked. "I can't help it. I'm a vampire."

"For ten more minutes. Maybe stay over there until this is all over." I hissed, uncomfortable.

"Why?" He leaned towards me, still far away, "You think I'm gonna bite you?"

"Probably." I teased.

Sam shook his head. "I would only do that if you asked me to."

“Well that's not gonna happen. So, let's stop talking about it.” I sassed.

"I think I can sit next to you though." His body appeared next to mine, sitting on the edge of the bed.

I jumped up, turning to him. "Jesus! You have fucking speed abilities?"

He hummed, "I guess so. You know what other powers I have?"

"No, what?" I jeered slightly.

"I can make people do what I say." He grinned wickedly, his fangs shining in the light.

I raised an eyebrow at him, "How do you even know that?"

"I told all the people hiding in this room to leave and go somewhere else. Some of them are outside in the backyard." He answered.

"Well, that was a little rude of you to do." I narrowed my eyes.

He scoffed. "This is my house. I'm allowed to kick people out of it."

"I guess you can. But maybe be a bit more conside-" I started.

He cut me off, his tone changed. "How would you feel if I drank your blood?"

"What?" I turned and looked at him.

His eyes caught mine, and suddenly I was entranced. "How would you feel if I drank your blood? Be honest."

The truth came out of me easily, I couldn't stop it from slipping from my lips. "I wouldn't mind it."

"And why is that?" He continued, standing up.

"Because I've had a crush on you for a while. Plus, vampires are really hot. And you as a vampire is, like, extra hot." I admitted in a daze.

"Wow...." Sam beamed, pulling his gaze away. "Now that's insane."

The moment I could think for myself, I spun around covering my face. "Oh my God, Sam! Why would you make me say that?!"

"I didn't make you say anything! I just made you tell the truth." He explained defensively, almost jokingly.

I whined, "Still! You didn't have to make me do that."

"So... do you want me to bite you?" He asked again.

I turned back to him, pissed. "No, I don't."

"Really?" His eyes somehow caught mine again, and I was lost. "Be honest."

"I would totally be into it," I squeezed my eyes shut as Sam looked away smugly. "Oh my God, you suck."

"Only if you want me to...." He teased.

"That's not..." When I opened my eyes again, his were already boring into mine. I felt lightheaded, and immediately could barely think. "Fun...ny."

"Get closer to me." He ordered.

My body moved without my permission, stepping up to Sam. I could feel his warmth radiate against my skin from how close we were together.

"Do you actually have a crush on me?" He queried.

I nodded my head. "Yeah, I think so."

"You think so?" His hands trailed up and down my arms, soothingly. "Would it be a bit stronger if I bit you?"

"It would." I revealed, unable to lie.

"Okay then. Good to know," he snickered. "Tilt your head and show me your neck."

I followed Sam's command, tilting my head to the side and allowing him more access to my neck. Sam's hold around me tightened, his mouth lowering down until he was almost against my neck.

"I'm not gonna hurt you, Y/N. I would never hurt you," his voice was just above a whisper. Sultry and seductive. "Also.... I like you too."

I exhaled, "Wha-?"

Suddenly his fangs sunk deep into my neck. A soft wince escaped my throat, my body tensing up. I gripped onto his arms, my nails almost digging in. It was a bit painful but exhilarating at the same time. I felt high, each breath feeling like a rush of dopamine.

Sam moaned against my neck, removing his mouth for a second. His tongue lapped at my skin, getting all of the extra blood that fell from his mouth. "Fuck, you taste heavenly."

"Sam, I think you shou-" I mumbled, my voice raspy.

He plunged his teeth back in, a harsh gasp falling from my lips. I thought of pushing him away, but instead my hands pulled him in more. My vision began to blur, and my legs could barely stay up on their own. I felt my legs give out, but Sam held me up, his torso crushing into mine.

"Don't worry, Y/N, I got you. I'll never let you go. You're mine, forever." He growled.

"S-Sam." I choked.

My eyes began to flutter, my breathing slowing down to an almost halt. And still, he continued to drink and drink. I felt like I was floating and falling all at the same time. And I didn't even care. It felt so good to be in his arms, to have him consume me.

I could hear a soft whisper in the distance. It sounded familiar but was muffled. It grew louder and louder by second, saying the same thing over and over again. Finally, as it sounded closer, I could make out what it was saying: my name.

And then like a freight train, someone screamed it. "Y/N!"

My eyes popped open, focusing immediately on Sam's face. He was looking down at me concerned, almost in a panic.

"Y/N, oh thank God. I thought we were gonna have to call 911 or something." Sam sat back on his knees, his chest heaving.

I glanced around as my eyes adjusted to the light. I was in Colby's room, but from an angle I wasn't used to. I tried to sit up, suddenly realizing I was on the floor. Sam propped up an arm around me sitting me up and leaning me against the couch.

"Wha... happened?" I uttered, rubbing my neck.

"Well, we were all downstairs partying, and you said you didn't feel good all of sudden. So we both came up here, and I went to use the bathroom. And when I came out, you were passed out on the floor." He responded, worried.

I squinted at him, confused out of my mind. "So... there wasn't a witch that turned everyone into their costumes?"

He blinked. "Should I still call 911? How hard did you hit your head?"

"No. No, I'm okay." Sam helped me up slowly, still propping me against the couch, "I must have had one hell of a dream when I passed out."

"Are you feeling okay? Tell me, seriously." He looked into my eyes.

I glanced away quickly, "Yeah, I'm... fine. I don't even feel drunk. What time is it?"

He checked his watch. "It's 1:05."

"After midnight..." I realized, muttering.

He furrowed his brow. "What?"

"Nothing. I'm okay Sam. Really. You know how I can get sleepy after I drink too much. Maybe that's what happened." I tried to reassure.

"Yeah maybe..." He trailed off.

"I'm gonna go to the bathroom real quick." I stated, standing up completely.

Sam stepped towards me. "Do you need help?"

"No, I'm okay." I grinned at his nervousness, "Seriously, I'm fine. Don't worry."

I trudged over to the bathroom, leaning against the sink to collect my thoughts.

So.... that was all a dream I had while passed out? Holy shit, I'm never drinking again.

I looked up, scanning my face slowly. I looked the same as I did when I left my house. Except, I had no recollection of how I got here. I mean, in the dream I took an uber... so maybe that's what happened? But God; that dream felt so real. It truly felt like Sam was drinking my blood and draining me. And holy shit, I confessed I had feelings for him!

I sighed deeply, looking over my face once more. My eyes drifted further down and widened at the sight. Two fang marks were right by my jugular, right where Sam had been biting me.

"Sam! Can you come in here for a second?" I yelled, my breathing speeding up.

A moment later the door opened, Sam entering. "What's wrong?"

I spun to him, glaring. "Why do I have two fang marks in my neck... like a vampire bit me?"

"What are you talking about?" He puzzled.

I pointed to my neck. "Right here! What are these?"

"Y/N, there's nothing there." He informed.

"Yes there i-" I turned around, looking in the mirror. He was right. The marks were gone. My skin was clear, as if they never existed in the first place. "Oh."

"Are you sure you're okay?" Sam wrapped an arm around me sweetly, rubbing my back.

I stuttered, "Y-Yeah. I must have just saw something."

"Must have. Because like I said, there's nothing there." His gaze met mine in the mirror, "Right, Y/N?"

"Right. There's nothing there." I said dreamily.

"Good," he smiled warmly. "Now, let's get back down to the party. If you're feeling up to it, of course."

I nodded, taking Sam's hand and leaving the bedroom, following him back to the party.

[silverwolf122]

It was an ordinary day in the Watchtower. At least by the standards of the Justice League. Which meant that there was some kind of threat to the Earth. Batman was busy trying to establish contact with the Justice League Dark, which disappeared without a trace. The usual stopped when Wonder Woman in full heavy armor called to the meeting.

"Diana, what happened?" Bruce asked. The "trinity", as they were called, were close and had long ago learned from each other the smallest nuances of body language. It might not have been noticeable to others, but Bruce noticed a slight tremor in her hands.

"I thank you all for being my friends and comrades. But as of today, I am resigning from my post in the Justice League." Batman had contingency plans. Everyone knew that. He was just a man who stood among the Gods because he was prepared for any threat they might face. What made it even more unusual was how unprepared he was for these words. "Diana, talk to us. We can help."

"I hope you will" her tone is steal hard. This is not a Diana, thier friend is talking. It's Wonder Woman. Batman scolds himself how unprepared he is to hearing her like that directed to him he really is. "May this sword serve you instead of me." She takes her sword and stabs it into the wall. "Because when I see it again, it will be with the enemy. Find the Prince, Justice League, or you'll find out what it's like to wage war against the Amazons."

"You don't have to do this." "You're wrong, Batman. When I became Wonder Woman, I took an oath that I would always stand for truth and justice." "Like all of us!" "What if the criminals are the USA, Bruce? Will you stand with me against your government? Will you start a war against your own cities in the name of justice?" Silence reigned in the hall. "Find the Prince, Justice League. You have 72 hours before we start the search. That's all I can give you."

[Wonder Woman A-03] said the computer as Diana left the Watch Tower.

Surprisngly, it's Teen Titans that helped with the next part. Their empath, Raven, was able to sense a huge emotional mystical energy release near Jump-City. They found a well protected base, that was surrendered by agents in white costumes. Per protocol, they called the JL for backup. By their channels, they found that the base belonged to Ghost Investigation Ward, a goverment group to search, study and destroy Ghosts. "Not just ghost, but ghosts of Infinite Realms." said Raven, the only magical expert they currently had. Batman doesn't believe in coincedence. The JLD dissapearence, Diana leaving the JL, the amazons war, a huge base with a lot of magic organised by the goverment. It's all connected. He activates his comm. "Diana, we may have a lead."

Batman and his group are escorted to the ward. What he sees inside caugths him off guard. Batman hates being caught off guard. A 3 meter long blue amazon, with 4 arms, flaming purple hair, fully armored and carrying a spear. Diana and her mother stay around the table, studing maps. "Bow before Pandora, patron of Amazons, queen of Acropolys." They do. "What have you found?" "6 hours ago, was discovered a base of operations, lead by goverment group known as Ghost Investigation Ward. It consist of agents in white suits" This piqued Pandora's interest. He was right, this was connected. If 'the Prince' was not there, then they may find where he really is. "You know about them?"

"If my son is there, then you may just have prevented the war against your realm, mortal. It may depend on how much they harmed him and if we will act fast enough."

"The Justice League will be able to extract him and return him to you safely."

"If you think i will trust you to do it by yourselves, you are mistaken, boy. My son has a lot of allies in the Infinte Realms. I will gather them and will make sure that he is safe. Hippolyta, prepare your forces. No one is allowed to escape."

When the rescue started, Batman was caught off guard once again. When Pandora said they had a lot of allies, he thought it will be a couple of dozens. Instead, a couple of hundreds of ghosts were united to march against GIW forces. Snow Yetis, Greek Soldiers, knights, a big blue dragon, a pharaoh leading mummies, a driad controlled plant, a woman in red suit on a hoverboard with guns, amazons, and the missed the JLD. The problems started from the start, when they heard the loud "STOP!!!" on their comms, belonged to the driad. "What's wrong, Sam?" Pharaoh asked. "Blood Blossoms." "This sick sons of the bitches." Batman heard John Constantine swearing. "What is it?" "The base is surronded by Blood Blossoms. This are anti-magic flowers. If anything mystical gets in, it won't get out. B, they grow only if they are fertilizer with ashes of innocent people burned alive. To have so much to surrend the miles of the base..." Batman now understood what John meant. "What can we do? Should we break the circle?" "To late for that. The only option is to completly destroy every flower. Burn everything." "Flash, Superman, you heard him. Make it quick." "Your assessment is incorrect, Constantine. Demons are not affected by Blood Blossoms," Raven said over the comm. "Raven, the extraction is on you. Get the Prince out of there. J.L. will distract him."

In the end, the united army forces of ghosts and JL was able to capture every GIW agent, even if it was harder than they first anticipated. GIW was able to gather a lot of different weapons, capable to harm even more durable members of the united forces. Once Raven was able to get to the Prince with her emphath and going through walls abilities, both the Prince and Raven dissapeared. Apparently, healed by Raven, the Prince was able to open the portal to Infinite Realms. This satisfied Pandora and amazons, which was a relief. With the promise to punish and disband the GIW and anti-ecto acts, the war was prevented. Ghosts and amazons retreated, leaving only members of thenJL to take care of arrested and wounded. Now was the hard part for them. Make the goverment admit that they fucked up and officialy imprison all GIW agents for good.

A couple of days later, a green portal opened in the Watch Tower. This caused an alarm. The whole JL was ready to fight whoever tried to attack them. Only to meet a white haired teenager. "Uhm, hye". Flash was the first to speak "Uhm, buddy, i hope you won't take it the wrong way, but what are you doing here? It's not exactly an open place." "Uhm, yeah, i get it. I just wanted to say thank you. For helping with Guys in White and stuff." "No problem, bud. We are the Justice League. That's what we do. But how are you connected to it?" This was answered by Batman. "He is Danny Phantom. A small town hero from Amity Park. One of the paranormal heroes, that dissapeared with the kidnapped Prince"

This put a smile on teens face. "Good to know you know about me. Anyway, thanks for GIW. Though, they were just pawns. The Observants used them in an attempt to overthrown me. Thankfully, now i can legally throw them out."

"Wait, you mean, YOU are the Prince?!" Flash exclaimed. "Yeah, but please, just call me Danny. I don't need any pompeus names or anything like that." Batman took initiative. "Apologies, Danny. But we were not aware that we were rescuing a child. We are sorry that we came so late."

Danny stared in his eyes, like he was trying to search his soul, before shrugging off. "Eh, it's fine. I have learned to be content with what I have. Surprisingly, this opens up many opportunities to enjoy what you have, instead of trying to get what is lost." And something about that rubbed Bruce the wrong way. Such lesson couldn't came lightly. "So, now that the GIW is gone, i think it's time to return your friends." On that, Raven and Wonder Woman came from the portal. "Hey, Diana. You call sometimes, since we are apparently cousins, or something like that." "I will Danny, don't fret."

"I think the Titans will be glad to meet you and your friends." said Raven. "Really? Huh, maybe. It's nice to meet the big superheroes." "We are always opened for friends." She said with a small smile.

[mzminola]

Bruce sets up an elaborate mindfuck for Tim's birthday in an attempt to make Tim less trusting of even allies, giving him a mental breakdown. Bruce claims this will make Tim a better vigilante.

Tim, upon figuring it out, throws his Robin uniform literally in Bruce's face, cussing him out (like, actually censored swears, which Tim usually doesn't use), and quits. He talks with Steph about how messed up it was, and she empathizes out of her own messed up experiences with Bruce.

An unclear but short time later, probably a few days, Tim un-quits and states to Bruce that he doesn't expect an apology (not because it's unnecessary, but because he knows Bruce).

~

Stephanie returns from presumed death, finds Bruce, and accepts his orders to not reveal herself to everyone else & to take extreme actions to, once again in Bruce's estimate, make Tim a better vigilante.

This includes running around town in her original costume so Tim thinks his dead friend has a copycat, hiring people to attack him, working with a bomber, and even after knocking all that off, not sharing pertinent information about it with Tim, resulting in Tim being caught in an explosion.

Tim yells at Stephanie and says "Don't let me catch you wearing [the Spoiler] costume ever again." When she tracks him down a little later, he refuses to speak with her.

An unclear amount of time later, probably a few months, Tim is willing to work with Stephanie to stop a supervillain plot.

~

Some fans treat Tim's word-choice in the confrontation with Steph as him trying to control her. As him thinking he's got the authority to decide who can and cannot operate as a vigilante, at least in Gotham.

But. Like. One, aside from this one conversation, he takes no actions to stop her. He doesn't steal her gear (like Bruce sometimes steals people's uniform), he doesn't go and tell other people to stop working with her, he doesn't even go snitch to her mom.

Tim just. Tells the friend who got him very badly hurt while mindfucking him that he doesn't want to see her in the field again.

Two, it's a pretty dang similar response to when Bruce mindfucked him in the first example. Tim is the one who insists Batman needs a Robin. And here he is depriving Batman of Robin.

Yet if I tried to claim "Tim quitting Robin is his attempt to control Batman, is Tim acting like he has authority to stop Bruce from being a vigilante" you'd laugh in my face. Because that is a huge leap to make, with convoluted logic, and isn't supported by the rest of the text.

Bruce & Stephanie both screw Tim up really badly.

He confronts them and says he's breaking ties.

Then after a little distance, he goes right back to working with them.

And some people think this is...controlling? Don't get me wrong, Tim has some controlling tendencies, they all do, but it's usually teaming up with Alfred to stop Bruce patrolling while injured, and lying his ass off to everyone so he can do what he wants.

This? Is not that.

[suzukiblu]

comfort w tim please? (i just want some fluff dkjshekdb 😂)

Well, this excerpt isn't Tim comfort, but hopefully counts for Tim fluff?

Context: pre-identity reveal/identity porn/idiots to lovers TimKon.

"Sounds like supervillain talk, dude," Kon says. Tim resolves to dial back on that at this point in his career. He's laying groundwork, yes, but subtlety is still the wiser course of action.

"You say that like you've never socialized with a supervillain before," he says dryly.

"Well, usually ones who wear a bit less," Kon replies, grinning wickedly at him.

"So you're telling me I should invest in a crop top before I try to take over the world and remake it in my own image?" Tim asks still more dryly as he raises an eyebrow at him with a little smirk, and Kon laughs and steps in a little closer, giving him a not very subtle up-and-down with his eyes.

"Only if you're trying to recruit me for your evil plans," he says, grin turning sharp. Tim wants to lick his teeth. "So I dunno, what are your feelings on Daisy Dukes?"

"I'm going to be honest, I'm not actually that much of an exhibitionist so at this point we're just describing my ideal costume updates for you," Tim informs him.

"Oh yeah?" Kon asks with another laugh even as he visibly preens at the suggestion. Tim is all for that, personally. Both the preening and the theoretical updates, in fact. And, a little more weirdly, just the idea of having anything to do with what Kon might ever decide to wear.

Yeah, that's probably a later thought, Tim decides. Like, a private-time kind of later thought.

"You're solar-powered, aren't you?" he says reasonably. "Showing a bit more skin can't hurt."

"I wonder if Superman would buy that excuse," Kon says musingly.

"Power Girl exists," Tim says still more reasonably. "And Supergirl wears a miniskirt, last I checked."

"Valid," Kon says, putting on a mock-thoughtful expression and tapping the side of his jaw. "Maybe I'll put in some cutouts and go for a lower neckline, tell the big guy he's making the rest of us look like prudes. What do you think, bikini or high-cut bottoms?"

"I don't know the difference," Tim lies, desperately trying not to overheat and die at that question and every single accompanying mental image that his useless brain has so helpfully decided to supply. "You'll have to provide examples."

"Will I now," Kon says, grinning all over again and pointedly cocking a hip. "What, pretty boy, you want a fashion show?"

"Well I did want to be a photographer when I was a kid," Tim says, although it was definitely never that kind of photography he had in mind. Kon laughs again and shifts in even closer, though, so it's worth it. Tim is mortified, but also undeniably into just . . . all of this, really, just everything about this conversation. Robin can't flirt with Superboy, but, well . . .

He's taking advantage a little, he can admit, but it's still just . . . nice.

He's wanted to flirt with Kon for way too long, at this point. Indulging in a little bit of it isn't the worst thing he could do.

And again, it's Kon, so it's not like it's serious or anything. The guy won't even remember this conversation tomorrow, much less anything about Tim Drake.

. . . admittedly that'd be counterproductive to Tim's long-term goals here, but still. He's willing to take his time on this. There's a plan. It has steps. Layers. Processes.

"I like you, man," Kon says with a wider grin, which is in absolutely no way whatsoever in the plan. "You're funny."

It occurs to Tim, almost disbelievingly, that he might've . . . made a good impression on Kon? Somehow?

Well that's weird.

[selfaware-bungou-stray-dogs]

HI HI!! Tysm for doing my writer sequel!! I wanted to request again for a teen! cosplayer!reader. They go to many anime conventions(is that what it's called?) But they are a little shy and have social anxiety (real) They often gets made fun of for liking anime and cosplaying. While some of her classmates do bully her for this, her brother is the worst.

I usually do more detailed requests but I feel like I already troubled you with my previous requests 😭😭

Love your work btw❤️❤️

Not a childish hobby

Self-Aware! Platonic! BSD Characters x Fem! Teen! Reader

Description: You have a hobby. People called it childish. BSD Cast disagree with them.

Warning: OOC. English is my second language. Bullying. Some mysogony (Brother is angry, because Reader cosplay male characters and told her to do 'real female job').

________

You were making the last touches to your Port Mafia Dazai (age fifteen) cosplay, when you hear a ping.

Another message from someone. You looked at your phone.

Classmates

Hey, [y/n], have uwu watch cawtoons today? Aw. Wittwe kiddo need hew daiwy dose of cawtoons awnd toys.

You sigh. Your classmates were annoying. As usual. After they learned about your love of anime and cosplay, they started picking on you. You don't know why they continue doing it. They have learned about it seven months ago! Can't they move on?

But, you stay silent. You didn't speak about it to teachers or your parents. You don't want to be a bother. Classmates were just annoying. They didn't cross the line.

You always liked anime. You liked animation and different stories. You liked characters and soundtracks.

And, thanks to The Internet, you have learned about fandom. And cosplay.

You fell in love with cosplay. Your parents, while thinking, that you were childish, let you go enjoy your new hobby. They let you attend anime conventions in a cosplay.

Yes, they think, that it was childish, but, at least, their daughter wasn't smoking or drinking. Or doing something else, that can lead to trouble.

Yes, there was your older brother... Comments. Laughing. Notes.

During anime conventions, you preferred to stay 'silent'. You wear cosplay, buy merch, didn't participate in competition and don't allow people to take pictures with you.

Seven months ago, your cousins invited you to a convention. And their mother took a picture with you three wearing cosplays. And posted it online. Somehow, your classmates learned about it.

And the bulling starts.

Notes, uwu language, laughing.

And your brother saw it as a sigh.

He tried to sabotage your cosplays.

He could pour paint on costumes. Or cut them with scissors.

And your parents ignored his behavior. Maybe, they saw it as normal sibling rivalry. They were too busy with their work to pay attention to all of your problems.

And, when one time you told them about your brother's bullying, they told you to deal with it on your own. Because you must protect your 'childish' hobby on your own.

You shake your head, chasing away unwanted thoughts.

You were almost done with the costume. You have opened BSD Mayoi app and choose Port Mafia Dazai (age fifteen) card for a reference.

_____

You looked at the destroyed costume.

Normally, you would hide your cosplay in your wardrobe. But you left for two minutes to drink some water.

How it was enough time to do this?

It was torn apart, coated in paint.

Your brother looked pleased with himself. He walked past you, laughing.

"Grown up. Use these rugs for a real female job. Clean this mess. You can thank me later, sis. And..."

He pulled your hair.

"Don't you dare to cosplay a male character ever again."

He left your room.

You wanted to yell at him. To hit him.

But you were afraid.

You just cried.

You didn't notice, how your phone start glowing.

You didn't notice, how BSD Cast appeared in your room.

You felt, how Oda carefully wiped away your tears.

_____

Your room weren't big enough for all of them, but, all of you managed to settle down.

After some fear, disbelief, talking Bram's head, some screaming and squeezing half-transfoed Atsushi's paws, you finally called down enough to listen to Fukuzawa's and Fitzgerald's explanation.

It was a lot to take in.

You whispered. You were uncomfortable to be in a middle of attention.

"Wh-what will you do next?"

Fitzgerald spoke, his voice was soft.

"We will stay in this world. We will live here. And..." Fitzgerald looked at you and smiled. "I won't beat around the bush. We want to adopt you. So you can live with us."

You opened your mouth and looked at Fitzgerald. Then at the rest of BSD Cast. You were waiting for them to burst into laughing. But all of them looked serious. Fitzgerald spoke again.

"We won't force you to stay with us, if you don't want to. We are fine with being with family or just friends for you. If you don't want to see us after today, we won't ever bother you. If you choose to stay with us, we won't be against you visiting your parents and brother."

Fitzgerald looked at the remains of your cosplay.

"And... No matter, what you choose, we want to help you with your bulling problem.

You looked down. You whispered again.

"Can I think about it? About living with you."

Fitzgerald nodded.

"Take your time."

_______

You looked around your new room. It was big and cozy. You even have a workshop area for your cosplay.

After some thinking, you agreed to stay with BSD Cast. Fitzgerald, somehow, managed to convince your parents to let you stay with them.

You keep in contact with your parents, have daily calls with them and visit them on weekends.

You also changed school. Not before Tachihara and Kuyoka had some talk with your former classmates. After the talk, they apologized to you.

As for your brother...

______

You flinched under your brother's glare. You were wearing new Fifteen-year-old Dazai's cosplay.

"What did I tell you about cosplaying a male character? Wha...?"

Your brother's eyes widen, when he saw Fukuzawa in Koyouou's cosplay and Fukuchi in Mitchell's cosplay behind you.

Fukuchi glared at your brother.

"So... You are against the idea of your sister cosplaying a male character? So, do you have something to say for our cosplay of female characters?"

Ever since then, your brother was avoiding you. And he was still paying you back for every cosplay he destroyed.

________

You rubbed your temples.

You have a cosplay costume to finish.

Soon you and BSD Cast will attend a Comic Con. You were sure, that you will get some attention. And you were fine with it. As long as BSD Cast stay near you.

You smiled.

You were happy.

You weren't laughed at for liking cosplay and anime.

You weren't being called childish.

You have the support of your new family.

Life was great.

[petew21-blog]

Could you do an Andrew Garfield and Tom Holland body swap

Friendly neighborhood Peter

Andrew P.OV.

We have just finished the last of the promon pictures for our new upcoming movie for Marvel. What a great and nostalgic ride that was. It has been years since I last wore this costume on set and I have to say I miss it. It makes me sad that some stupid conflict many years ago ended our third movie, which could've been amazing.

Tobey has left to meet with Kirsten. Me and Tom were left alone together to chat about our lives. What a great kid, he's so talented. It's hard for me to admit that, but I envy him. The attention is nice, I won't deny that, but I just loved making those movies. I would do anything to trade with him. Does that sound mad? Sorry. Another daydreaming episode. I have to think about my own life again now.

Tom's P.O.V.

I want to stay here and talk to Andrew about acting and working as an actor for the role of Spider-man. I truly do. But I am already nervous about all the paparazzi out there. Recently they have made my life horrible. I haven't had privacy for years. I am proud for the movies and the work we all have put into them, but the other side of this is just exhausting. Andrew says, that I should enjoy it while it last, that fame fades out and the work eventually gets finished. Maybe it's too selfish at this point, but I would like it to end. I would do anything to trade with Andrew and have a kind of life he has.

The two "Peter Parkers" had no idea what it meant for them that night. Just a stupid simple wish at the back of their head. Well, someone is lucky today.

Tom's P.O.V.

Either this is a very bizarre dream or someone did a very elaborate prank on me. I am looking at Andrew. But I am looking in the mirror, where usually my reflection stares back at me. How is this even possible?

I calm down and after a while I get out of bed. I am in Andrew's apartement. His place looks nice, neat, surprisingly. I take off a shirt and put it on. While sliding it on my new torso. I notice my new biceps. Damn, Andrew, you're not so bad. I thought you gave up body-building. But this is quite nice.

The exploring didn't stop there. I dropped my or (Andrew's?) boxers to get a nice view. I was welcomed by a hairy co 7 inch long dick. Not bad again Andrew. I started to jerk it. While enjoying the body of a 40 year old in a great shape, some woman came into the room and with no expression just said:"If you wanna come to the premiere you gotta speed up and get dressed. Be ready in 30"

Oh shit. Was that his girlfriend? Or maybe a manager. I don't know what is worse. The indifference or the fact she saw me like this.

I might have some explaining to do when I see Andrew in my body at the premiere.

Andrew's P.O.V.

What was weirder, I didn't recognize my body. I had bigger muscles, lean chest and nice 6 pack. I could even feel the stench of a younger body. Even my skin was visible younger.

I got up from the bed to find out that this body sleeps naked in bed.

I went to the nearest mirror. Holy shit. It's Tom

I was shocked at first, but then I remembered what I thought about last night. Maybe, this is a way from the universe to show me if I truly hate my life or if this is the life for me.

I went back to bed to rest. Well... maybe not rest, but whatever. It's nobody's bussiness how many times I have jerked off Tom's dick. It's also nobody's bussiness to ask how long was I in the shower afterwards and if the scream were of pain or pleasure

Shit. I love Tom's style. His wardrobe is filled with such nice clothes. I don't even know what to pick. Even showing of his abs looks amazingly stylish

Andrew and Tom bumped into each other right in front of the journalists.

"How you feeling man?"

"Young! And the best I have felt in years. Your body was a nice surprise. How are you holding on?"

"Well, I have to say that I can't complain either. I mean, you have a much more calmer life than I do. Wouldn't mind if we had this for a few weeks."

"Oh, I don't think I would mind either. It would be an honor for me to take care of your life Tom"

"Don't call me like that now, TOM! People might think you're on drugs. Haha. And yeah, let's make it a deal. We don't even know how to swap back, but when we do find out we swap back on our own terms. Deal?"

"Deal!"

The two of them embraced each other in a hug and laughed about it

This couldn't have worked out better for the two of them

[purplekiwis]

Summary: It's no secret that as a figure skater, you're fed up with the local hockey team being treated like royalty... and your ex's status as a player isn't helping much either.

Genre: Exes to Lovers (Enemies to Lovers if you blink 😉)

Warnings: it's angsty and smutty

Wordcount: 8K

A/N: i'd like to thank @sucker4angstt for requesting this concept! it was a blast to work on and i hope you guys have as much fun reading it as i had writing it 🤍

THIS IS A 2 PART SERIES | PART 2 IS HERE ❄️

OTHER WORKS BY ME

“You wanna do black again? Didn’t we do that last time?” Niall inquired as he switched off the car’s ignition.

You had just shown him a dress you had found the night before in hopes he would like it, but as you had already been expecting, he claimed black was boring and wouldn't stand out among the competition. “Well, yes but this one’s a different style from the last one. It would go well with our song.”

“It wouldn’t hurt to try something new sometimes, you know? Like white or blue… perhaps even red?” He suggested as he removed both your skating bags from the trunk and placed them down by his feet.

You hid a sigh while you took your bag from him. It never got easier to admit that you had to consider the price before picking the costume. For whatever reason, there was always a hint of embarrassment associated to that admission. Needless to say you would also prefer to wear a bright colored outfit with lots of glitter and transparencies, but those were simply out of reach for your budget.

“We did red once already, that time we did Moulin Rouge.” You reminded him as you walked side by side, each of you steering your own carryon.

“Hm, that’s true. I’d forgotten about that.”

You hadn’t been lucky enough to land a parking spot right at the front of the sports centre that morning, which sucked big time given how chilly it was outside. Getting up early for practice was never fun, but during the winter months it got almost unbearable. Especially when the sky was all hazy and mostly black by the time you woke up.

“How would you feel about like, a nude?” You proposed, despite the fact that you weren't really fond of the color.

“From you?” Niall sniggered. “Thanks but I think I’ll have to pass.”

“Come on, can't you be serious for like 2 seconds? This is important.” You huffed, pretending like you hadn’t found his little joke amusing. “Also, um... I know this is probably like super annoying for you but my budget’s kinda tight right now, so if you’d be willing to repeat one of our previous outfits, that would be awesome.”

Niall laughed a bit. “Stop with that nonsense, will you? It's not annoying and of course I don't mind. Sides, it's not like it'll even matter what we wear. We'll do so well that the judges won't even think to pay attention to our outfits.” He then turned to you and stated, “...That being said, I still don't want to wear black again.”

“Aff, fine.” You grumbled. “Which one do you want to wear then?”

“Hm.. I dunno, actually.” He took a moment to reflect. “How about we just start naming them until we find one we both agree on?”

“That’s not a bad idea, actually.”

“Ready?” He asked, you nodded. “1, 2, 3…”

“Pink.”

“Turquoise.”

“Navy.”

“Green”

“Orange.” You said it in unison, but your faces immediately turned down in distaste after. “Nevermind the orange. I still don't know what we were thinking when we picked those.”

“Yeah, me neither.” You admitted through a deep breath in. “I’d be fine with the green though, as long as it's the dark one.”

“Make it the medium dark, and it’s settled.”

You reached an agreement right as you were approaching the entrance of the sports centre, where some figure skaters you had grown familiar with over the years were gathering. Surprisingly, neither unpacking nor warming up.

“Are you guys all done already?” You asked them as you dashed towards your usual warm-up area. It was spacious and had a canopy that kept you dry in case it rained. “I didn’t realize we were late...” You earned Niall's judgmental stare with your sentence. He had been rushing you all morning, but you were sure you weren't that late. As far as your calculations were concerned, you were just in time for your first warm-up.

In days like these, it was always very tempting to skimp on the off the ice warm-ups and go straight to the rink, but with the championship right around the corner, neither you nor Niall would take that risk. Because although you also competed individually, it was as a pair that you really stood out. Your journey to nationals depended on you both, and you weren't going to jeopardize all that for being too lazy to stretch.

“Don’t bother starting.” One of the skaters, Natalia, intervened when she realized what the two of you were up to. “The Emperors booked early morning.” She clarified, upon noticing your perplexed looks.

“They did what-” You gasped, all the more startled.

“They can’t do that.” Niall said after you, and the look on his face was as distressed as yours. “They already take up most of the rink’s time!”

“When their stupid coach came we tried to tell him that, but he refused to listen. He didn't even pause- just walked straight through as if we weren't here.” The new skater jumped into the conversation. You hadn't officially met her yet, but you knew her name was Mei, a.k.a the girl Niall had been crushing on for weeks.

Redness engulfed his cheeks as soon as she looked his way, but he still managed to respond, albeit stutteringly. “Yeah, I'm not too surprised… Y/N’s ex plays on the team and he always used to say the guy was a moron.” You pointed out Niall’s oversharing by flashing him a chastising look, but he was too engrossed in Mei's beauty to notice your death stare.

You cleared your throat, now feeling a touch hot in the face too, before turning to the remainder of the group, “Have you spoken to couch Jo or Paul? Aren't they supposed to come teach the kids right after we leave?”

“Yeah.” Natalia sighed. “Apparently they’ve had to rescheduled some of the skating classes but nothing much. Basically it's fine for everyone but us.”

“So what time can we come now?” The Emperors could have taken your place, but surely they had to have left a gap somewhere.

“That’s the thing.” Mei explained. “There’s no time apart from the lessons we have with our coaches. A spot is available in the afternoon, but that's just not feasible for anyone.”

“What? No! How’s that even allowed?” Your question was hardly noticed by the other skaters as they were preparing to leave. "Wait- Where are all of you off to? We can’t just leave; have to solve this.”

“What do you propose we do, then?” Mei groaned. She was clearly on edge, as was everyone else in the group. “We’ve already tried. We won't get to solve anything right now, so staying here is a waste of time.” She grabbed her skating bag off the floor. “You can still try if you want, though. Didn’t you used to mess around with one of them? Maybe he could help.”

You scoffed as you watched Mei leave with the rest of the group, “Unbelievable...” You commented with Niall, only to find him looking at you like he agreed with her. "Oh no, not you siding with her. Are you kidding me?”

“I mean, she’s got a point…” As he went on, a goofy smile spread over his face. “I can't believe she actually spoke to me. This is crazy... and she’s even hotter up close…” Rolling your eyes, you started gathering both your bags in a tacit plea to leave. “Please, Y/N... can you go talk to him? I don't wanna stop seeing her now that she's speaking to us.”

You took a long, deep breath.

You really weren't in the mood to do all that, but unfortunately your ex happened to play team captain for the hockey team... so perhaps, if you could flip the tables and get him to be on your side, there was a small possibility his opinion could give you some advantage when it came to straightening everything out.

That was what you needed to remind yourself of.

There was a deeper purpose to this than Niall's desire to speak with Mei. It was important for everyone. None of you could afford to miss practice now that the championship was about to start. The time you spent practicing with your instructors was good but having time to skate freely every morning was critical.

“Fine. I'll go, but you’re coming with me.”

You had wanted Niall to come along for the emotional support, but that idea was quickly scrapped once the centre’s receptionist, who was acting a lot more standoffish than usual, refused to let you walk past the front desk.

It occurred to you that his behavior might have something to do with how Mei and the rest of the skaters handled that morning’s dreadful news. If that was the case, his mood was about to get worse because you were planning to bring up the issue as well… until Niall stepped in, “Oh, we're not here to skate. We’re here because my friend thinks she dropped her bracelet on her way out of the rink yesterday. We just wanted to see if we can find it.”

“I have orders not to let anyone in right now. If you want, you can come by after eight to look for it.” He answered monotonously, his gaze fixed on the computer screen.

“Ah, we have school at eight; we can't come at that time I'm afraid.” Niall’s revelation elicited no response. So, after a moment of awkward stares, you continued,

“If we don't go now, someone else might find and keep it.” The man’s expression told you that he thought you were being a nuisance, but you kept playing by Niall’s script and added, “The bracelet was a gift from my mother. It has a lot of sentimental value...”

Finally, just as you were beginning to lose hope, he sighed and said, “If it's just the bracelet you're looking for I'll let you go find it, but he stays.” His head motion indicated that he was referring to Niall.

“I’m sure it would be easier if we searched together...”

The man sat back with a sigh. “Look, it’s nothing personal. I'm simply doing what I've been told by one of the coaches after he got harassed by your little squad at the door… which is not to let anyone in the rink while the boys are there. I'm already making an exception for you when I shouldn't, so it’s either this or you'll come back later.”

“Oh, I’m sorry. I hadn’t been informed that the hockey coaches were now in charge of the place...” He ignored your provocation, but his gaze was drawn to the agitated tapping of your nails on the counter. “You know what, it's fine. I get it. I’ll be quick, oh- and don't worry, I'll be careful not to harass the local royalty while I’m there.”

You didn’t stick around for further verbal cues, just swiped your membership card, walked past the barrier and turned toward the rink. It was only after you got there that you realized how angry you were. Knowing that the hockey team was being treated like kings and given the freedom to do whatever and however they pleased with zero regard for anyone else was one of the most infuriating things you'd ever witnessed. It wasn't exactly surprising taken they always got prioritized for being the bigger sport, but they had never taken things this far before. This situation was ridiculous, and you weren't going to tolerate it.

So although you agreed to come speak with your ex, now you were actually hoping to speak directly with the coach instead. Maybe your efforts were in vain, but you had to, at least, try to get your point across. There was only one problem - he was nowhere to be found, and you didn’t know anyone else on the team well enough to ask on his whereabouts.

Speaking of the team, the guys were dressed in practice gear, which was far more basic than their game jersey’s, but still had the same colors of red and gold. You assumed they hadn't started properly training yet, as they were still warming up with crossovers and pivots.

Among the many broad-shouldered athletes there, your eyes were immediately drawn to the player whose number you knew best: 77.

Not that you’d ever need a number to identify him.

Even with hockey armor covering his frame, you knew his body’s contours like the back of your hand. Picturing the tousled curls hidden under his helmet, the green of his eyes, and the curvature of his lips was easy. A little too easy.

“Styles,”

He turned when he heard your voice. His eyes were obscured by the visor, but you could swear you saw his brows quirk. “Y/N,” He didn't look too surprised by your presence. In fact, he looked more amused at you yelling his name than at you being there.

After a few seconds of skating by he came closer, and as he stopped next to the board, his skates scratched the ice a little too harshly for someone who wasn't aiming to make a spectacle of himself. You weren't wowed by his effort. You could execute that same slide better and with greater polish if you wanted to.

“Where’s your coach? I’d like to have a word…”

He signaled the rooms on the top level with his head. “Up there in a meeting. Why, what do you want from him?”

“Not that it's any of your business but it looks like there’s an issue with the rink’s scheduling.”

You saw the grin he was trying to hide. “Oh, what’s that?”

“The skaters had it for 6am, as usual.” You attempted to highlight. “Ergo, you shouldn't be here.”

“No you didn’t.”

“Yes, we did.”

“I don't think we would be here if you had booked it, would we? If we took the spot, it was because it was available.”

“Well yeah, because we’ve never had to book it - because we had a spoken agreement and we’ve always followed through on it.” He didn't respond, nor did he appear very willing to engage in the conversation you were trying to have. “Are you listening to me?”

“I am,” His voice felt harsh and didn't quite fit the easy stance he showed as he shrugged. “I'm just not sure of what you want me to say – I’m sorry? Does that make you feel any better?”

His cynical tone didn't sit well in your stomach, but your face didn’t let that show. “Okay, look - I get it. You’re in the league and you need to practice, but that doesn’t give you the right to take early mornings from us. It's only two hours out of the entire day, couldn't you just let us keep them?”

He appeared somewhat bored by your approach, but not completely. His facial expression had an edge to it. He was irritated. “It wasn’t me who made the call. If you want to lash out at someone, try the guy at the front-desk or whatever. I can't help you.”

He was really starting to piss you off, but worse than that, there was a part of you that was getting legitimately hurt by his indifference. He used to be one of your biggest supporters, and now it was like he simply didn't care. “Even if it wasn't you who made the decision, you knew better than anybody that this would disrupt our practice and you still didn't say anything.”

“Why would I? Wasn't it you who just said it's none of my business? If you have an issue, it’s your place to handle it - not mine.”

“Harry, your stupid team already takes up most of the rink’s time! Our qualifying season starts in two weeks, we need to practice.”

“Well, I'm not sure if the news has reached your self-centered little world yet but our season has already started, and we have big games coming up. So sorry to break it to you but we're going to take all the extra rink time we can get.”

“Not unless I can’t do something about it.” Your implied threat was meaningless. You had no plan whatsoever... apart from the original one to get on Harry’s good side, which had just been blown. You'd figure something out though, anything to ensure they wouldn't get their way. “You’ll have to go through me first.”

He got closer, coming right up to your face as he leaned over the border and uttered one last, quiet “Gladly,” before skating away to rejoin his team.

The bleachers were packed by screaming fans in replica shirts. 

The big day had come. The Emperors were playing their first home game of the season and as the concentration of bodies suggested, a considerable portion of people had come out to witness it firsthand… including you and Niall.

After what the fuckers had done to you, you almost felt like a traitor for showing up to their game. However, you had purchased tickets weeks ago and since you had spent the money, you figured you might as well come and root for them to lose. That worked for a while, until they actually started losing.

As soon as the visiting team scored a goal, it became impossible to disguise who your heart was really rooting for. The Emperors were jackasses, that was beyond dispute, but they were the local team and it was hard to cheer for strangers when the other players were people you had “known” for years.

“You haven’t touched your pretzel…”

Niall's comment drew your gaze away from the game for a millisecond. “I don’t want it right now, I’m not hungry.” Your reply came out garbled due to the way your cheeks were getting smothered between your hands.

“It’s gonna go cold if you don’t eat it now...”

“You’re right. Here- you can have it.”

“You sure?” His hesitant smile expanded when he heard a fragmented “Yes” fall from your mouth. The “Thanks,” that followed was mumbled around a large bite. “Oh man, this is nothing like the hot dogs they sell here.” He chewed as he spoke, “Have you ever had one? They always put sauerkraut on them and it’s like, who even likes sauerkraut that much, you know what I mean?”

“Mhm,” you hummed again, eyes fixed on the local team captain and the player battling him for the puck. "Get off his ass, shithead." you blurted as another player floated over and pushed him against the board. It was the same player who kept harassing him throughout the first two frames of the game. There had already been insults, menacing stares, and provoking shoves exchanged. This wasn’t going to end well.

“You know you don’t have to do that anymore, don’t you?” Niall asked after a lengthy pause in conversation, what caught you off guard.

“Don’t have to do what? Eat sauerkraut?” You questioned back, a little confused.

“Get nervous for the games.” He clarified, which sort of took you by surprise. You weren't aware that your feelings were showing that clearly. “Since, you know…  you and Styles aren’t a thing anymore and all. You don’t have to get all anxious over him.”

Your focus immediately diverted from the rink as a result of Niall’s remark. “This isn’t about him, Niall. It’s about the game- I want us to win.”

“Uh huh… because of your deep love for hockey, I assume.” His face lit up with laughter. “Not any of the players in particular, just the sport itself.”

“Shut up- Oh, that son of a... oh, great! Now he's starting a fight...” You muttered inwardly once you saw Harry's gloves hit the ice first, followed by the other player's.

The initial strikes to the head sent the helmets flying. Thereafter, it was all direct blows. The two boys faced each other angrily as they dodged and struck each other with bare hands and faces. The crowd roared loudly as the violence between the two players increased. “God, I hate when they fight.” You admitted, despite it being nothing new. “Why does it always take the referees so long to split them?”

“Ah, well, you know that's how the game works. The crowd loves it.”

“No, I know that but… it’s barbaric.”

The other player’s left hand was gripping Harry's jersey as if he was going to rip it apart, while the right continued to strike jabs in his stomach. But Harry didn't cut loose; he whacked him with the same force. They both went down, and just like that there was blood on the ice. A laceration over Harry's eyebrow had resulted in what looked like a crimson mask covering his face, most likely caused by his helmet’s visor as it leapt out of his head.

As the boys hit the floor the referees finally intervened and broke up the fight.

But the two were back on the ice as if nothing had happened after spending five minutes in the penalty box. Harry’s cut was no longer bleeding, but the bloodied towel he left behind served as a solid memento.

“I swear my Nan is more flexible than you.” You teased Niall as he tried to strike the mermaid pose. He was struggling, so his tongue was sticking out.

“You can't compare your Nan's yoga to mine. She's been doing it for longer than I've been alive!” He grumbled as he attempted to move his elbow to the proper position by imitating your posture. “I’ll have you know though, that I've never had any complaints on my flexibility before. In fact, it’s what I usually get the most compliments on aside from my-”

“Shhhh.” You were shushed by the yoga instructor for speaking over the soothing music.

You had never taken a yoga class before but considering your time on the rink had been compromised, you figured it might be a good idea to give it a shot since it still allowed you to practice your balance and flexibility.

You'd gotten cocky and chosen advanced yoga, assuming it wouldn't be too difficult to keep up given your figure skating background. Big, big mistake. You were living it up at first… however, as the class progressed and poses like 'the crow' and 'the flying pigeon' began to appear, you found yourselves admiring everyone rather than trying to keep up.

As a result, you were only doing the same five poses over and over, which got boring really quick. Besides, you weren’t even mastering the intermediate ones...  as Niall was struggling with flexibility, while you were having trouble with all the arm strength exercises. That was when you started to get chatty, even though you were well aware that it wasn't appropriate.

You'd already been told to be quiet twice, so when your phone went off in the middle of class you didn't hesitate to roll up your mats and leave, figuring you had already caused enough disturbance.

“We'll never be allowed back there again...” Niall remarked on the way to the locker rooms. “Did you see how she looked at us when your phone rang? That wasn’t very Yin and Yang of her…”

“Well… to be fair, we were being incredibly rude...” You checked your phone for the notification you had received during class. “Speaking of rude, you won't believe who was texting me just now…”

“Who?” He realized who you were referring to when you made a face and pointed your head toward the rink. The yoga classes were held in the same section, the one dedicated to indoor sports. Despite being on opposite ends, you knew the hockey team was there because you had passed by and heard them. “No way... are you serious? What did he say? Does it have anything to do with the rink?”

“He didn't say... just asked if I could meet him at that cafe we used to go to after class. He says it’s urgent.”

“Do you need a ride? I can drop you off on the way back from class; it's close by.”

“No, don't worry. I end class earlier than you today, so I can take the shuttle like I used to.” You were guessing Harry had remembered you had a similar school schedule on Fridays, which is why he didn't bother telling you a time. He knew you would be there by 3pm... supposedly. “I don’t know if I’m going, though… I don’t know what he wants.”

“Yes you are.” Niall asserted, as if the idea of you not going was the most insane thing ever. “What if it’s something to do the rink?”

“What if it’s nothing to do with the rink?”

“No, come on… it has to have something to do with it.” He insisted. “I know you want to go; you're just nervous about seeing him.”

“No, the only reason why I am nervous is because he isn’t telling me what he wants. It's weird.”

Niall paused for a moment as you reached the door for the women’s locker rooms. His face let you know he was debating whether or not to tell you what was on his mind. He decided to do so. “It's obviously up to you whether you go or not, but if I were you I’d go just to see what he wants. You don't have to sit there all afternoon if you don't want to... and if things get too awkward, you can text me and I'll show up there to save you.”

“Right.” You replied even though you knew it wasn't the most appropriate answer.

You realized it would be stupid not to go knowing it could be about the rink. There was a good chance it was, which was supposed to get you excited, but in reality was doing the exact opposite. Selfishly, you wanted this to be about you and nothing else.

As petty as it sounds, you wanted to get there and hear Harry admit that he missed you, that karma had gotten him good, or something else that made you feel like your suffering had been worthwhile even if you were never getting back together. That was why you were afraid to go… because you would be disappointed if he looked as fine as he did last time.

“Does that mean you're going?” Niall asked, cutting through the pitiful thoughts racing through your mind.

You chewed on your lower lip. “I guess.”

You saw him as soon as you walked into the cafe.

He was sitting alone, but there was a girl “standing” next to his table. To refer to that as plain standing would be inaccurate. You knew what she was doing, and most of all you knew what for.

She was showcasing the best she had to offer. That was why her hips were pushed back, and her gut was pinched so firmly.

She fixed her hair over her shoulder, and you got a glimpse of her face. She was hot enough to get you to stand up straighter, but not to make you wonder if you should have spent more time getting ready before coming.

You stayed back and waited for their interaction to be over. For you, this was nothing new. You’d grown so used to watching girls fawning over him that it rarely made you jealous anymore, despite it always being slightly unpleasant to witness.

The bright side was that experience taught you when to worry… and now wasn't the time.

She appeared to be asking a question about game tickets, but you could tell by the look on Harry's face that he wasn't all that interested in chatting with her. He looked like he wanted to be left alone. He was doing that thing that he used to do when random people approached him back when you were together - he smiled politely but barely said a word.

It took the girl some time to catch on, but eventually she got the hint. He wasn’t interested, and no amount of flashing her cleavage would change his mind. She stepped away, and you took it as your cue to walk over.

“Hey.” You greeted as you got to the table, hurrying to remove your scarf and jacket before you took the chair facing Harry’s. Not that there was any other option to pick, anyway.

“Hi.” He smiled slightly, before pushing one of the coffee cups on the table towards you. “I hope you don’t mind that I went ahead and ordered you a drink...”

His gesture brought you back to memories frozen in time, but you didn't allow yourself to linger on them too long. You and Harry used to meet at this coffee shop all the time. In fact, it was once one of your favorite places in town but being here now only brought back sensations you'd rather avoid. Still, for the sake of politeness, you accepted his drink. “Oh, um… thanks. You didn't have to get me anything...”

“I know I didn’t.” He took a sip of his cup, and you impulsively mimicked his action. The coffee which used to taste like love, suddenly seemed almost too dull to drink. “You still like those, right?”

You wondered if he had noticed your grimace. “Yeah, it's what I always used to get from here. I'm surprised you remember…”

“I guess I haven't had enough time to forget most things about you yet.” A twinge of discomfort shot through your chest at his words. You suspect he caused it on purpose. “I have a sharp memory.”

“I'm not sure that'll last if you keep hitting your head like that.” Your point was lost on him, which kind of made you regret making it in the first place. “You've got a bruise… on your...”

“Oh, that.” He tried to mask it with a quick ruffle of his hair, but you could still see it. “That's nothing, forget about it.”

“I wouldn't exactly call it nothing, when-”

“I didn’t ask you to come here to talk about that.” He intervened before you finished. “There’s something I need from you.” He admitted, crossing his arms over the table.

“'All right then, what is it?”

“That jersey I gave you, do you still have it?”

“Why are you asking?”

“I need it back.” His request caught you completely off guard. Your mouth opened and tried to speak, but nothing came out. “Mine got ripped and the spare I gave you is the only one I have left.”

When you finally spoke, it was quickly and angrily. “I'm not giving it back.” You said, and Harry let out a groan. “You never mentioned I was only allowed to keep it until you needed it back. It looked like a gift to me.”

Another sigh followed, this time deeper and more frustrated. “That’s because it was a gift… but now I need it, and I'm pretty sure you're not wearing it, so what difference does it make?”

You crossed your arms and shook your head. “You can't ask for gifts back, that's nasty.”

Why, of all things, did he have to ask you to give back his jersey? It was the most special gift he had ever given you. And now just because he never got to see you wear it, it automatically meant you didn't care for it?

That was simply not true!

Behind closed doors, his jersey was still a favorite.

Frankly, the only reason why you stopped wearing it during games was because you thought it would be demeaning not to. It would have been weird for everyone, plus you didn't think Harry would appreciate you walking around with his number on your back when you weren't together anymore.

Not that people thinking he had a girlfriend would have been enough to keep any hookups from happening if he wanted them to. When it came to Harry, it seemed nothing was ever enough to discourage girls from trying their luck. It wasn't just because he played on the hockey team. That was a bonus, but it was insignificant compared to the rest. His looks, his character, his sense of humor… from the surface, Harry looked like a catch, and finding that he was everything but, hurt. You still loved him, so it hurt. You hated how it all still hurt.

“I'm not asking for any of the other stuff back. I'm asking for my jersey because I desperately need it; else, I wouldn't be asking.” He explained as you sat there, feeling your chest squeeze as you half-listened to his reasoning. “Please Y/N, this is sort of critical for me.”

His slightly pouted lips suggested that he had also not forgotten how to sneak his way inside your heart. It wasn't a difficult task, but it was aggravating how well it still worked.

The worst part is that he didn't even do it on purpose; it was just the way his face looked whenever he wanted something and was told no. It was the same face that managed to get your panties to come off that one time right before a game, despite your fear of getting caught.

“Fine. I'll give your stupid jersey back,” When he smiled in relief, you halted your words, but only for a moment. “Under one condition.” His nostrils flared as he took a long breath, gearing himself up for what you were about to say next. “You'll have to convince your coach to give us our ice time back, otherwise you can forget it.”

“Y/N, can we not do this right now, please? I already told you that I had nothing to do with that shit.”

Harry’s reaction left you feeling oddly disappointed. Not angry, but close to it. That was when you realized you had made the same mistake again. You had been expecting him to be concerned, or at least to act as if he cared. It wasn't his job to care. It wasn't his job to make sure you were happy.

Nonetheless, Harry could still be the key to getting what you wanted.

It didn't feel good to have to coax him into backing you, but it was your duty to do so for Niall and the rest of the skaters. The hockey team had crossed a line, and if this was the only way to stop them, so be it.

He might not be thrilled to help you, but he had the means to do so. If he wanted to get a favor, he would have to do one for you as well. In the end, it was only fair.

“I believe you, but you're the team captain, and I know he'll listen to you.” You took another sip of the coffee you had almost forgotten was there. “I'm only taking a favor for a favor… sounds pretty reasonable to me.”

“Okay, fine, whatever. I’ll see what I can do.”

You cocked a brow at his reaction. “That's not enough. If I can't see any improvements, the deal is off.”

Harry stretched in his chair, crossing his arms behind his neck while he mused. “That's called extortion, you know? It’s a felony.”

Your lips curled as you snorted at his remark. “It's not my fault you got in a fight and need a new jersey; I'm simply taking advantage of the circumstances. Besides, you aren't so innocent yourself... or did you think I couldn’t tell you were trying to butter me up earlier by getting me my favorite drink?”

Harry’s eyes widened with what looked to be confusion and amusement... and perhaps even a little happiness. “You were at the game?”

Your face got warm. “Oh, uh… yeah. I went with Niall. He likes watching sports, so...”

“Ha, I see...” His face turned expressionless. “You're wrong about your drink, by the way... I wasn’t trying to butter you up, I just thought it'd be a nice gesture.”

“Yeah, I guess...” You smiled a bit, before deciding to congratulate him on his team's victory. “You played well yesterday. Everyone went crazy when you scored that goal at the end.” The moment you finished talking, you noticed Harry was slouching in his chair, just staring at you. It was almost trance-like, the way his eyes weren’t able to stop smiling. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Like what?” He asked, but then in a sudden move, he got up, picked up his backpack and slung it over his shoulder. “I have to get going. I've got homework.”

You didn't really buy his excuse, but you also didn’t question it since you knew he wouldn't tell you whatever it was that was on his mind. “Yeah, okay.” You said instead, despite your enquiring face. “I guess I’ll see you...”

“Tuesday.” He completed. “I'm not sure what time yet, but I'll let you know.”

He was gone in an instant, leaving you alone with nothing but two unfinished cups of sad, tasteless coffee to keep you company.

Tuesday came by quickly.

Amidst the week's rush of lectures at university, runs and yoga classes with Niall, as well as preparations for the championship, you barely registered the days passing by.

As far as your agreement with Harry goes, you knew he had kept true to his word since there were no hulking hockey players in sight that day when you got to the rink.

Given that you had agreed on Tuesday, you didn't bother getting up early the mornings before to check on the rink's availability... and considering that you had the schedule for it over the weekend, you ended up booking that open spot in the afternoon right after lunch for free skating, even though it wasn't the most ideal.

The return to the ice on Tuesday morning, however, was a welcome relief.

The weather was peaceful… the ice was fresh, and you and Niall were able to make progress on a tricky jump that had been giving you the willies as of lately. It wasn’t perfect yet, but at least by the end of the morning you no longer felt like you were putting Niall through the danger of getting a neck fracture every time you leapt onto his shoulders.

Later that day, you met with your choreographer and he too noticed a positive shift in your performance. Having barely been on the ice over the week other than with your instructors, the shift was somewhat surprising... but it also made sense to an extent, since the break had allowed you to focus on other forms of training that you normally considered supplementary – like practicing balance and endurance.

After your choreography lesson, Niall invited you to go to the mall with him.

He wanted to check out a new tech store that had opened there, and since you had nothing better to do than finish the schoolwork you were procrastinating on, you accepted his invitation.

It was a fun afternoon, though you ended up spending much longer than you’d originally planned just browsing around. You barely noticed the hours passing, which was mostly Niall's fault because he had this extraordinary ability to beguile people with conversation topics that were seemingly random but made for weirdly interesting discussions.

His conversation starters almost always initiated with “Have you ever thought about...” and then something crazy would follow. It was impossible to stop the tangents after that, especially if he happened to touch on a subject that you considered to be interesting too. When that was the case, the two of you would just go on and on like a never-ending pit.

This happened several times that noon.

So, despite having been anxious as hell for the better part of the day knowing you’d be meeting up with Harry later, the whole thing had almost slipped your mind by the time he texted you asking if you'd at the centre soon.

“Shit.” You muttered while replying to his message saying you were on your way. “Can you drive me to the sports centre? I need to get something to Harry and I'm too late to walk there.”

“Yeah, sure.” Niall said as you began making your way to the escalator that took you to the underground parking lot. It had become less crowded since you arrived, so finding the car wasn't too difficult. “So what’s going, you’ve been talking with him again?”

“Nothing is going on. I told you about him asking for his jersey back. I'm surprised you forgot…”

“Ah! True, true.” He responded as he climbed into the driver's seat. “I just wanted to ask if there was anything else besides that. I know you aren't fully over him yet, which is understandable, but...” He paused, then let out a sigh. “I guess what I’m trying to say is I don't want my friend to end up in the same position again if you get what I mean.”

“Yeah, I get what you mean.” You leaned back in your seat and stared out the window. “But don't worry, that's not going to happen. It's pretty obvious he doesn't like me, but even if he did…well, as the saying puts it… once bitten, twice shy.”

You talked about something lighter the rest of the way there. Niall wasn’t the type to bring up uncomfortable topics or force you to talk when you didn't feel like it. He usually just listened when you shared, which was good. He still gave his advice if you asked for it, but when it came to your situation with Harry, that wasn't what you needed, and he was aware of that.

What you needed was a friend that respected your decisions, but still cared about your well-being at the same time. A friend who understood you'd want to go meet your ex on your own but still offered to wait and give you a ride home afterward, so you didn’t have to walk alone at night.

The next day, the hockey team was playing outside of town, so there was a big, tall bus parked at the back of the sports centre.. and a shadowy man standing right next to it. The sky had already darkened so it was hard to see, especially on the side he was on, which wasn't getting bathed by the centre’s lights like the opposite one was.

Logically, you knew it must be Harry, but you didn't want to get too close without being sure. It could be the bus driver, or someone who happened to be there for something else. So instead of walking over, you stood at a reasonable distance and cast a wide-eyed glance in all directions, before lowering your gaze to your phone screen to text Harry letting him know you were outside.

But before you could send him anything, you were startled by his voice. “You can come over here, I don’t bite.”

You hoped the nighttime blindness worked both ways because you had jumped a little with the scare, which had to have looked a little stupid. “Oh, it is you! I couldn't tell from back there… it’s er…dark.”

If he saw you jump, he didn’t acknowledge it, instead he asked, “Did you walk all the way here by yourself?”

He seemed concerned that you had, which gave you a warm feeling in your belly. You didn't know what to make of it. “Oh, no. I was at the mall with Niall when you called so, he drove me. He’s parked at the front.”

“Hm.” Harry grunted dryly, which sparked a little awkward pause until he finally asked the dreaded question, “Do you have the jersey?”

“Oh yeah- one second... it's in my bag.” You smiled stiffly before you started rummaging around for it. “I’m not the best at doing laundry so the color might have gotten bit worn off from the washer, I hope that’s not an issue.”

“That’s fine.” He tossed the jersey over his shoulder, disregarding how neatly you'd folded it. “Thanks.”

“Okay, um… you must be pressed for time, so…”

“Not necessarily.” You found the coldness in his voice upsetting, and you couldn't figure out why he was stalling you when he obviously wasn't delighted to see you. “So how’s the situation with the rink, did it all work out?”

“It did.” It was a brief response, but you didn't feel like standing there chit-chatting just for the sake of it. “Thanks, for helping and… I guess for asking too.”

“Don’t thank me.” He said it brusquely, which irritated you even more. “Okay, um… I guess I’ll see you when I see you.”

“Yeah, that.” You curled your lips in a weak smile, and Harry did the same before setting out to go back inside the building. Sadly, upon watching him leave, you couldn't resist calling his name to see his face again. “Hey, Harry-” His head jerked back at the sound. “Have a good game tomorrow. I hope you win!”

He looked like he was about to look away, but he didn’t. Instead, he returned your gaze, as though he was contemplating something. There was a strange glint in his eyes, and it lingered there as he began walking back towards you. And then, wordlessly, swiftly and without a warning, his hands reached for your face… and his lips reached for a kiss.

You squeaked in surprise at the feeling, but that was all there was to it. After Harry’s lips' familiar texture took over, there wasn't much room left for surprises. His body steered yours backwards against the side of the bus, sheltering you from any curious eyes peering through the windows above. “Harry, what-”

“Stop talking,” He muttered against your lips, still laying kisses in between. “I know it's messed up but if we both keep quiet, no one has to know it happened.”

Your throat was itching to respond, but his kissing made your head blurry. His mouth lowered to taste your neck, kissing every inch of skin it swept by. Then, just when you thought it couldn't be any better, his tongue slipped out and found a spot that had you gasping quietly.

The touch of his body was setting yours on fire, reviving it in a way it hadn't been in ages. Your kisses grew hotter and heavier, and before either of you could pause and wonder if this was right, Harry was already fumbling with the button of your jeans - and you were letting him.

“Do you still think of my hands?” You could feel the warmth of his words on your skin as his fingers slid in. His pace was slow, almost too slow, as if he was enjoying listening to the eagerness of your heartbeats. “I think of yours most times; whenever I play with myself, it’s always you… your hands... your mouth... your pussy…”

You both moaned as Harry reached the hot spot hidden beneath your panties. He rubbed a bit around it, in slow and steady circles. “I’ve always loved how fast it reacts to my touch… it gets so wet and creamy, and your clit… fuck, ‘s all puffy and twitchy…” His fingers pressed harder on it, stroking more firmly.

And shit, you were getting there already. So, so close that your entire body was twitching uncontrollably against his. “Please… d-don’t stop.”

“Already? Fuck baby… you haven't been giving it the proper attention lately, have you?” You shook your head in response to his question. It was almost embarrassing how quickly you had gotten to that point, but Harry was right; you hadn't had an orgasm in a while… and of course, he could tell. “I'm not gonna lie, I already suspected that she wasn't being well taken care of, but shit... that's just disgraceful, isn't it?”

You could hardly gather the strength to answer him. The only sound you could muster were a few high-pitched "mhmms" that were muffled against his neck. You groaned when he pushed his fingers in and pierced through your hymen a little too briskly. “Still?”

You felt a little offended by how surprised he sounded but acknowledged his question with a nod. “It’s okay, just breathe…” He whispered softly into your jaw as his motions became gentler.

This wasn’t the first time Harry had used his fingers on you, but usually it was more the outside bits that he focused on. He loved giving oral, so you did a lot of that… the fingering thing only came later once you started having conversations about him taking your virginity. If it were up to you, you’d no longer have it, but Harry had wanted to take things slow. He knew your mind was prepared, but he had wanted to make sure your body was too… just so the experience was painless and pleasurable for both, and not just for him.

The stretching burn you were feeling eased after a while. It still stinged a little, but it wasn’t a bad type of feeling. Slowly but surely, it was transforming into a different type of heat, the kind that spread through your abdomen and got you to spasm around Harry’s fingertips.

He was going to make you cum if he kept on doing what he was doing…

Which he didn't.

He stopped right before you got there.

You stared up at him in confusion, right before you started glancing around to make sure no one was walking out of one of the buildings or approaching the bus. “What- what happened? Why did you stop?”

“Stop with what, hm?” That feeling of disorientation pervaded your mind for a moment, but reality set in once he started re-tucking your jeans back into place with a self-satisfied smile on his lips.

This was it.

He was done.

“That was a cute little warm up, wasn't it?” He shamelessly asked as he zipped up your fly. “It's a shame it had to end so abruptly… you seemed to be enjoying yourself... but don't get me wrong, this has been good fun for me too.”

With nothing to say or do, you just stood there astounded. You were torn between sobbing out of frustration, seeking an explanation, and simply leaving without uttering another word. It wasn't like whatever decision you made mattered anyway since none of those options would accomplish you anything.

The mess had already been made.

You shouldn't have allowed this to happen, and shouldn't have enjoyed it, but you did. It would have been much smarter to put a stop to things right the moment Harry kissed you but, despite the circumstances, you couldn't bring yourself to do it… and now, after everything he'd already done, he was ridiculing you.

When you looked at him again, you noticed that all of the traces of humor that had been gracing his features had dissipated. His gaze felt like steel, harsh and bitterly cold. “You should go. Niall's waiting for you, remember?”

His chest got shoved back by your clasped fists. “You’re an asshole!”

He tried to grab your wrists, but you shoved his chest again. It was enough to make him back down, although he still managed to get a hold of your arm. He used that to keep you from leaving. “I may be.” He spoke right in your ear. “Now you know what it feels like to be left stranded. I hope you fucking liked it as much as I fucking did.”  

PART 2

[gentlebeardsbarngrill]

02/10/2024 Daily OFMD Recap

TLDR; Long Post is Long. Cast & Crew Sightings; David Jenkins; Matt Maher; Clowning; Rhys Darby; Rosie; Samba; Max Trolling Reminder; Coyote Vs Acme Cont'd / Articles; Watch Party Reminders for Feb 11; SafeSpaceShip; Art Director's Guild Nominee; We Need to Be a Lighthouse! Game; AdoptOurCrew Choose Your Own Adventure; Love Notes; Daily Darby / Today's Taika;

= Cast & Crew Sightings =

Well as you can imagine, the David Jenkins IG is the big news of today. The clowning forecast has gone up significantly. Dad posted one of the late-blooming SaveOFMD banners in NY and attached Elton John - Candle In The Wind to the post. This song has some very specific significance to our fandom.

Apparently back when we lost Lucius in Season 1, Chaos Dad posted this song to Nathan Foad. Src @cptn_brightsky's Twitter Post

Now ADD to that... David Jenkins ALSO added this picture of Matthew Maher standing in front of a saveOFMD flyer found out on the street.

NOW OF COURSE, we are all clowning, but I think as usual Chaos Dad is trying to give us info without giving us info since the fandom pays so much attention to every little detail.

@saltpepperbeard has a theory that I'm down to clown with until I turn blue in the face. Src.

So yeah, as always take the clowning how you will, but I'll be honest, this looks like great news to me. It really does. CLOWN ON MY FRIENDS.

= Other Cast & Crew Sightings =

Rhys Darby's going to be at The Bourbon Room Hollywood next Friday, 2/16 at 8 PM PT.

== Rosie ==

Since doing cute stuff just doesn't stop in the Darby houshold, tonight I wanted to make a special shout out to Rosie Carnahan Darby, Rhys' Wife who has been active the last couple days. First and foremost, she knit a little blanket and hat for Samba's baby!

Second apparently she's restocked the Awesomeness Comedy website with more Buttons McGinty books and Comedy Special DVD's in case you're interested.

Oh and by the way, Samba loves the blanket:

= Vico Ortiz =

Tonight Vico was out performing with Them Fatale Drag Kings at their last night at their home bar Redline! Just some shots from their IG stories, feel free to check out more.

== Max Trolling ==

Gentle reminder luvs, if you're going to IG, or Twitter to troll Max posts, let's try to remember not to post OFMD/Negative comments on any posts that are celebrating underrepresented groups. We want to support those groups. Please note however, if you'd done it previously and didn't know, don't beat yourself up! We all make mistakes, just please try to keep it in mind going forward! (If you can delete your previous posts, great, if not, again not the end of the world).

== Coyote Vs Acme Cont'd / Articles ==

Why Deleting and Destroying Finished Movies Like Coyote vs Acme Should Be a Crime

This article is from yesterday but this blurb was pretty damn specific so I wanted to make sure if you missed it you got to see some of the reasons why Max did cancel OFMD.

"Some of the company’s tactics post-merger were garden-variety ruthless, like eliminating 87 series from its streaming platform Max, so that they won’t have to pay union-mandated residuals to the talent that created already-existing programs or pony up funds to produce more seasons of existing ones (such as “Our Flag Means Death,” one of the company’s most popular and critically acclaimed comedies—canceled after just two seasons)."

= Watch Party / Event Reminders =

Feb 11: Q+ and AdoptOurCrew Season 2 Live-Rewatch Party

Times: 2PM GMT, 9 AM EST, 6 AM PST

Watch Party Hashtags:

#OurFlagMeansBBC��

#OurFlagMeansRewatch

#SaveOFMD 

#AdoptOurCrew

= Feb 11: Relax I'm From the Future Watch Party! =

Sunday February 11th, 1 PM PT. 4 PM ET, 9PM GMT

Watch Party Hashtags:

#PiratesFromTheFuture

#SaveOFMD

#AdoptOurCrew

== In Person Events: San Diego CA ==

February 11, 2024 at 4 PM at Maritime Museum of San Diego

Costumes & Cosplay Encouraged! Location: Maritime Museum of San Diego 1492 North Harbor Drive San Diego, CA 92101

Hashtags:

#SafeSpaceShip

#SaveOFMD

#AdoptOurCrew

= Art Director's Guild Award Nominee! =

Sorry, I forgot to add this one yesterday!

Ra Vincent - Nominee for Half-Hour Single - Camera Series. Src: @AdoptOurCrew and ADG

Check out the Design Presentation: OFMD_s2_art.pdf

== We Need To Be A LightHouse! ==

Have YOU heard of this awesome new Monkey Island Inspired Point and Click Adventure Game by @blueberreads and @eldawee? They've been working on it for months and it's FINALLLLLLLY HEEEERE!

These folks are so incredibly talented! Please go check it out here! https://dawee.itch.io/lighthouse If you're using a MAC OS you'll most likely need to download an executable at the bottom of the main page. Just FYI! If it prompts you with the "you downloaded this from the internet" error just click OK. I already started playing with it and I'm in love.

I pushed Ed and he asked if I wanna do something weird xD Okay no more spoilers, GO CHECK IT OUT!

== AdoptOurCrew Choose Your Own Adventure Game!==

In honor of the s2 watch party with Q! tomorrow, @adoptourcrew did a really adorable choose your own adventure game on twitter today! They did polls and let the majority pick which direction they wanted the story to go!

Since it was a lot of pictures I made a separate post so you can see the whole story: @adoptourcrew Choose Your Own Adventure here on tumblr. Please check it out!

== Love Notes ==

Alrighty lovelies. It's been another busy day. Lots of clowning, lots of hope, lots of emotional roller coasters. I hope you had a good time and generally it was more positive than negative. I have a lot I want to say, but my brain is still pretty foggy. So I'll make this short.

Sometimes when things go well, our brain gets excited and then they overcompensate when we calm down. It starts to think a lot more negatively because it had so much extra dopamine for a time. When that happens, little things can be really devastating. I just want you to remember that we all make mistakes and YOU, you beautiful imperfect being are not your mistakes. They hurt, and we learn from them, but they don't define us. Try not to listen to your brain if it's telling you otherwise. You are so very wonderful.

Anyway, I hope that makes sense.

Here's a picture I found today I thought really applied to all you wonderful people. Thank you to all the folks who reached out to me and checked in and sent me love when you knew I was struggling (there are too many to list and I don't know if you want to be tagged so please just know how much I appreciate you). I love you all so much, and I'm so lucky to how found people who make me feel like it's ok to be me.

== Daily Darby / Today's Taika ==

Tonight is once again animal themed. I wish I'd made that Taika gif last night for the lovebirds theme, but here we are.

[anathemaloren]

flowers and tea

Naomi McPherson x fem!florist!reader

🌼Warnings - 2 curse words? and english is not my first language

🌼Genre - fluff (i guess)

🌼Word count - 3.4k (WHAT?!)

🌼Notes - OH MY GOD, you don't know how much time I've spent writing this like 3k words???? that's just crazy. also, i wrote this in several classes at school, sorry arturo, montse and chus 🙏🏼 and this is dedicated to carolina who tried to peek into the story and i didn't let her, luv ya bubs

Having her own shop was a dream and a nightmare at the same time for Y/n L/n.  Paying the bills, keeping the flowers beautiful the whole day through, being all day on her feet or dealing with rude costumers were all things Y/n wished she could get rid of. But at the same time, she truly loved her job. Being able to surround herself with flowers was a dream come true, and seeing a smile on the face of a happy customer really made her day. Plus, the shop was in a strategic place in Los Angeles where sometimes famous people came through, and she even had a few celebrities who were usual shoppers. Lucy Dacus stopped from time to time to buy flowers in order to dry them, and considered Y/n a friend. Pedro Pascal always bought flowers for his sister from Y/n, and Ashton Irwin loved to stop by for a chat about how to keep his plants as beautiful as Y/n’s. So, Y/n shouldn’t fall easily for a star, right?

          It was a slow day, so Y/n busied herself rearranging flowers on the back of the shop. She was calmly arranging a bouquet of lilies when she heard the bell on top of the door and a pair of shoes rushing in. Curious about who would come bursting in like that, she lowered the volume of the Glenn Miller vinyl that was playing on the background and stepped into the front of the shop while cleaning her hands on her apron. She then saw a person looking like they had run for 10 kilometres, with curls sticking to their red face, and trying to catch some air.

          “Hi.” Y/n said calmly “Can I help you with something?” she asked. “Yeah, I think you would be unbelievably helpful right now” they said, making Y/n chuckle amused. “Tell me, what can I do for you?” she said, taking her notebook out, just in case she needed to write something down. The person standing on the other side of the counter leaned a bit on it and tried to arrange the curls around their head. “It’s my mum’s birthday, and I’ve been so busy that I completely forgot about buying her something, and I love her very much I can’t just not buy her anything, and I’m meeting her tonight, I can’t show up empty handed” they said without stopping, catching a quick deep breath “. So Lucy told me to come here and say to you that she sent me and that you could arrange something with flowers that have meaning for, like… now… could you?” they finished, looking expectantly at Y/n. The girl just blinked a few times, taking all the information in. “Which Lucy sent you?” she asked, testing the person’s connection to her, not truly trusting them yet, even though they looked like a decent person to her. “Ummm… Lucy Dacus?” they said, with caution. Y/n visibly lighted up, smiling at the thought of the black haired girl recommending her to her friends. “Well, you should’ve started with that.” She said, turning around and starting to walk to the back of the shop, turning around again to gesture to the still nameless person to follow her back.

          If the front of the shop was a dream, full of aromatic plants and antique furniture, the back of it was another level of etherealism. Besides another huge amount of plants and flowers, one wall was a window wall, made out of old looking stained glass of art déco style. There was a table with two chairs were Y/n would have tea, sometimes with someone else, and behind the table there was a bookshelf with heaps of books about flowers and their care and meanings. In the middle of the room there was a worktable with a few half-arranged bouquets of lilies of different colours. Y/n moved with ease around the space, and she turned to face the stranger once she got to the workbench, only to find said stranger with their mouth half opened in awe.

          “Are you okay?” Y/n asked, slightly amused with the reaction she was witnessing. The stranger blinked a few times as if to come out of some sort of trance, and responded after centering themselves in the conversation again “Yeah, yeah, fine” they said, making Y/n’s smile a bit brighter. “I’m Naomi, by the way” the stranger said, finally giving a name to the curious person. “Oh, yeas, from Muna, right?” Y/n said, eliciting a nod from Naomi. “Lucy has told me so much about all of you, I don’t know how I couldn’t recognize you the moment you walked in” she said, making Naomi smile a bit. “She really talks about me to you?” Naomi asked, feeling a wave of affection for their friend. “Yeah, she talks about all of you all the time” Y/n said, giggling a bit “. I almost feel like I know you personally sometimes, although meeting you in person makes me realize she forgot to mention some things” she said, standing behind the working table and moving the flowers around to make space for others. “Like what?” Naomi asked, furrowing their brows, thinking that maybe they had given a terrible first impression, when they had been mesmerized with Y/n since they had seen her. The girl standing opposite to them smiled at them coyly before saying nonchalantly “For starters, she forgot to mention you are even more handsome on real life than on pictures.” The comment made the curly haired blush, not expecting the sweet looking florist to be so flirty and straightforward.

          Naomi’s reaction made Y/n giggle, feeling like she couldn’t stop smiling around them. She didn’t know where the confidence to be so bold had come from, either. She then decided to stop messing around and get to work. “So” she said, clearing her throat before continuing ´´, what did you want for your mum?” Naomi shook their head for a second, pulling themselves together about the flirty comment from before, and answered the question “I truly don’t know, I just want to tell her I love her, and flowers seemed like a good option” they said, being truly bad at flowers. “So you want to send a message with these flowers” Y/n said, looking at Naomi attentively. “Yeah, basically” they answered, doubting a bit about the rightness of their answer. “Well, if you want I can arrange a bouquet with flowers that mean that you love her” Y/n smiled, always loving to do bouquets with deep meanings. “Do you mean flowers mean something specific?” Naomi asked, making Y/n clutch her pearls in feigned offense. “Of course they do! That’s my job you’re talking about!” she said, making Naomi laugh. Y/n smiled and walked over to the bookshelf, picking up and old-looking book, with a pink cover and golden details.

          Y/n sat down on one of the chairs of the table, signalling Naomi to sit in the other one. The florist browsed through the book, in which Naomi could only see beautiful illustrations and paragraphs of what they could guess was information about the flowers in the other page. When Y/n finally had all the information she needed, she closed the book and looked up, only to find the curly haired brunet already looking at her. This discovery made the girl blush and Naomi look away immediately, embarrassed about being caught. Y/n decided not to panic, clearing her throat before speaking “I think I’ve found the ideal flowers” she said “. If you follow me, I can show them to you” she continued, while standing up, already blushing a bit again. Where had all the previous confidence gone? The person now standing in front of her was truly messing with her emotions, and they had only met for roughly 25 minutes, even less.

          Y/n waltzed around the room picking up flowers, oblivious to the mesmerized client who was following her. She picked up the flowers and explained their meanings to Naomi “White carnations mean purity, love and beauty; the azaleas are a symbol of womanhood in China, and they are a symbol of love; daisies symbolize purity and innocence; and camellias represent gratitude and longevity” Although Naomi seemed like they were just hypnotized about the girl’s beauty, her words were also enthralling to them. After coming back with the flowers to the worktable, Y/n asked Naomi about their opinion, at which they could only stutter an OK, making the girl working in the bouquet blush and giggle.

          When she finished the bouquet, the mixture of carnations, daisies, azaleas and camellias looked beautiful. Y/n’s talent was something that had Naomi’s mouth open in amazement. Their head couldn’t wrap around the fact that two hands and a few flowers had given such result, the florist’s talent oozing from every aspect of the bouquet. Besides from the big possibility of their mum loving the bouquet, Naomi had also fallen in love with the care and talent Y/n had shown making it. Maybe they had also fallen for the hands responsible of such beauty, and the person who controlled them with so much grace.

          Y/n finished wrapping the bouquet, not really wanting Naomi to leave her shop. But she knew she couldn’t stop a big ass pop star that surely wasn’t going to fall for her. “I think this is finished” she said, nerves flowing through her whole body. “We can go to the front now” she continued, now moving to the front of the shop, bouquet in hand. While Naomi paid with her card, Y/n finished preparing the gift. When she turned around to get the business card she always gave out to first time clients, she hesitated when deciding what complimentary flower to give to Naomi. She finally chose a lavender coloured rose. She nervously put the flower and the card in a bag with the flowers. She didn’t know why she was so shaken, Naomi probably didn’t share her feelings; for fuck’s sake, they had known each other for something more than an hour. When Y/n gave the bag to Naomi their fingers brushed ever so slightly, which resulted in different reactions; Y/n let out a sigh, while Naomi froze immediately. When the florist realized they had spent more time than necessary in that position, she put her hand back as Naomi’s suddenly burned. They just blinked a few times, blushed, turned back and marched through the door mustering a rushed thanks and a farewell. Y/n sighed when Naomi was finally out, leaning on the counter and placing her head between her hands. What a naïve thought, that someone like Naomi McPherson could ever like someone like her. Now, she just had to move on, and try to forget about them.

Lucy Dacus had decided to have a quiet night. She had a nice dinner, placed a few candles and played some soft background music. She then picked up her current read, and with a cup of a delicious tea that Y/n had suggested her, she got ready to relax, plunging down on the armchair she loved the most. That relaxing, though, didn’t last long, as she heard the doorbell ring. She groaned, detangling herself and getting up to open the door. If it was her annoying neighbour again, she was ready to throw hands. However, when she opened the door, there was no nosy neighbour on the other side; instead, Naomi was there, nervously biting her nails, and looking a bit miserable. “Naomi? What are you doing here? Are you okay?” Lucy asked, worried about her friend’s state. “Where the fuck did you send me?” they just said, spreading their arms exasperated. “What?” Lucy just said, sincerely confused. Seeing as the only answer from Naomi was a pair of widened eyes, which lead to Lucy sighing and moving from the door, signalling Naomi to come in. Goodbye, quiet night.

          After a cup of tea, Naomi had calmed down, and they had told Lucy about those afternoon events. “And when I finished dinner with my mum I needed to vent, and as you were the one who told me to go to her, I just…” they finished, trailing down at the end. Lucy nodded in understanding, not needing to hear more from her friend before concluding “So basically, you fell head over heels for her and you think she doesn’t correspond your feelings”. Naomi just mustered a “yeah” while dropping their head in defeat. Lucy nodded again, leaning back on the armchair she was sitting in. “Well, we can kind of know how she feels about you” she said, smiling softly, making Naomi shoot their head up, waiting for a solution for their problems. “Did you keep the flower she gave you with her card?” Lucy said, already knowing the answer. Naomi slowly reached for a pocket in their jacket, taking out a lavender rose. Lucy got up and moved towards a shelf next to a window, where she saw rain starting to pour. She took a book from the shelf, under the curious stare of her friend. The book was a Victorian guide to flower meanings, which Lucy had somehow managed to thrift. She looked through the book sat on the armchair again. She could feel Naomi biting their nails and looking nervously at her. Finally, she found it. “It says here that lavender roses mean…” Lucy stopped, looking kindly at the meaning “It’s a flower that represents enchantment love at first sight” she said, looking again at Naomi, whose mouth was now partly opened in shock and eyes completely opened. They quickly recomposed and started shaking their head in denial. “Come on, Dacus, stop playing” they said, not believing what Lucy was saying. “I’m not” Lucy replied, showing the book to them. Naomi was feeling a weird mix of emotions, between shock, denial and complete confusion, with a tint of utter affection. Was this some kind of sick and twisted joke?

          Naomi got up and started pacing Lucy’s living room, not sure about what that really meant. They knew they had liked Y/n, call it love at first sight if you feel like it, but something had bloomed in that flower shop, and not only the plants. Lucy closed the book and laid back, deciding to leave Naomi to walk around and calm down. They finally did, sitting across Lucy again. Taking a deep breath, the curly haired talked for the first time in the last few minutes, breaking the silence that had settled itself on the room, mixed with the sound of drops of the still pouring rain. “What do you think I should do?” they asked Lucy for advice, with a hint of somewhat fear on their voice. “I can’t decide anything for you” Lucy said, shaking their head. “I’m not asking for instructions, Luce, I want your opinion” Naomi said, in a soft tone. Lucy sighed and leaned towards her friend “Do you like Y/n?” she asked, not really expecting a forward answer. “Yeah, I think I do” Naomi said with a sincere voice, astounding Lucy, who blinked and talked again. “Do you want to tell her that?” “I think I do” they replied again. Lucy questioned Naomi for a third time “I have her address. Do you want me to give it to you?” she said, and spoke again before Naomi could say anything “And don’t say that you think you do” she half-threatened. Her friend closed their mouth, opening it not much of a second later “I truly want her address” Lucy nodded, getting up to write it on a blue piece of paper. When she finished, she folded it and gave it to Naomi, who was standing up, nervously playing with their fingers. The moment they had the paper, they gave a heartfelt hug to Lucy, and then sprinted to the door. Lucy saw them get into their car and smiled softly. She didn’t mind a night not so quiet if it was for the sake of romance.

Y/n was laying on her couch, one feet dangling off it. She laid there, looking at pictures of Naomi on Pinterest, although if someone asked, she was reading the Rilke book that was now laying on the coffee table next to her. She sighed, turning her phone off and keeping to staring to the ceiling. How was she so stupid that she had been so enchanted by someone who had been in her store for an hour. She stood up and picked up the book, deciding it was enough pining for someone she probably would never see again. She read a few pages, but didn’t last long before putting the book in her lap and looking out the window. She looked at the pouring rain, which she loved. She knew she should hate the rain, but she loved the romanticism of it all, even though she knew she would never have her ever so idyllic love confession in the rain.

          Just as she was lost on her thoughts, Y/n heard the doorbell ring. She wondered who the hell would be knocking at that time in the night, even more with that terrible weather, which truly didn’t invite to going out. She kept wondering who it could be as she walked to the door, expecting to see a neighbour or someone trying to sell her some stupid product. However, the only person she found waiting outside of her house was a drenched Naomi. Y/n’s eyes opened wide as she took the sigh in, with her breath getting caught in her throat.

          Y/n talked, although the lump she felt on her throat made it a bit difficult. “What are you doing here?” she said, not being able to move herself from her spot on the door entrance. “I needed to see you” they said, with a tint of hopelessness in their voice. Y/n felt like flowers were blooming in her stomach, with the leaves and petals tickling her stomach. “How did you know where I lived?” Y/n asked again, nerves now flowing through her system. Naomi looked a bit guilty before answering “Lucy gave it to me, I asked her for it”. Y/n made a mental note of scolding her later, but asked the last question she couldn’t stop pondering about. “And why did you want to see me, Naomi?” she said, not sure if she wanted to hear the response. Naomi breathed deeply before replying. “I like you” they said, making Y/n’ world turn upside down in a matter of microseconds. She tried to calm down her breath, that was now working, but too fast for anyone’s liking.

          However, Naomi misinterpreted the silence, thinking that Y/n was somewhat outraged by the statement, apologizing while moving back to what Y/n suspected was their car “I’m sorry, this was a mistake”. Y/n snapped back then, following Naomi to their car with a quick pace “Naomi, wait!” she said, trying to get Naomi to look at her. The curly haired, which hair was now not so curly as it was soaked and stuck to their face, turned around and looked at her with a pained look on their face. Y/n tried to find the words, but they seemed to be stuck to the walls of her throat. Naomi exhaled, turning back once more to unlock their car. Seeing as the opportunity of confessing was slipping through her fingers, Y/n decided to take matter in her own hands… literally. She got closer to Naomi and took their face into their hands, pulling them in for a kiss. The kiss was short and sweet, and Y/n pulled away to see what reaction that had elicited from Naomi. They just stared at Y/n with a look of shock on their face, that didn’t last so long, as their brain decided to finally act. Naomi took Y/n face in her hands and kissed her again, now deepening the kiss. The moment under the rain seemed to last forever, as both their hearts synchronized in loud thumps. When they finally pulled away from one another, the rain kept pouring over them with an astounding force that seemed to mimic the strength of their feelings for one another. They were both soaked as they stood outside of Y/n’s house, smiling to each other like the infatuated idiots that they were.

          “I liked the flower” Naomi said, still not getting away from one another. Y/n laughed, touching her forehead with Naomi’s. “It was not as subtle as I intended it to, I guess” she said, making Naomi laugh now. “I liked it better that way” they voiced, giving a small kiss to the side of Y/n lips. It that was a dream, they both hope they would never wake up.