#for him to have died on SCREEN and then pull off that crazy choice

[pyrosomatic-metamorphosis]

qbadboyhalo died…. qbadboyhalo died On Screen. qbadboyhalo died on screen and was forced to make a choice between a home he hasnt seen in thousands and thousands of years, and his children. qbadboyhalo died crying out begging for his son to live. qbadboyhalo chose to live. qbadboyhalo lied to people about how much he was hurting. dapper hid from his sister to have a breakdown over his father’s death in private. qbadboyhalo’s body was a hundred blocks or less from them for most of the day. dapper is looking for that same body at the bottom of the ocean. i am unwell.

[saintclarkegriffin]

The 100 ended four years ago so I think I can confidently say that i'm forever going to be stuck between the denial phase and the anger phase. No accepting or moving on for me.

I mean for the most part I just pretend that season 7 never happened, like I block it out of my mind. But when I do remember it happened, I just get incredibly angry. And I know it's not healthy to still be this upset over a fictional show that ended in 2020, but I can't help it.

I think about how Bellamy was character assassinated and then killed off in the most brutal and stupid way possible, shot by CLARKE of all people, over a damn BOOK, that she didn't even take!!! I think about how he died all alone, without a chance of saying goodbye to any of his friends or his SISTER!!! I mean think about how crazy that is, Finn died but got to say goodbye to Clarke, Lexa died but got to say goodbye to Clarke not once but twice, Lincoln died but got to say goodbye to Octavia, Jasper died but got to say goodbye to Monty, Kane died but got to say goodbye to Abby and Indra, and Bellamy??? The male lead of the show Bellamy??? He dies and he doesn't even get to say goodbye to OCTAVIA??? The Blakes don't even get a proper final scene together??? And I get angry.

I think about how Clarke, the main lead of the show, was cast aside for half the season and then also character assassinated, turned into a selfish vindictive cold-blooded person who never learns from her mistakes and suddenly doesn't care about being the good guy or doing the right thing... even though the entire point of her character arc was that she was fundamentally a good person, selfless, altruistic and empathetic, who was forced into impossible moral dilemmas. But she never stopped caring!!! Making these impossible choices never got easier for her!!! Because she was good!!! But suddenly in season 7 she was turned into everything that Clarke antis accused her of being. And what's Jason's excuse for this? "Oh, well, if you think about it she was never the hero... she was doing awful things early on in the show, just against people we didn't care about like Mount Weather... In season 7 we put the audience in Mount Weather's shoes"... excuse me???? As if Clarke didn't try literally everything in her power to get her people back, without having to harm/kill the people in Mount Weather??? As if Clarke didn't decide to pull the lever only when she saw her own mother and her friends being strapped to a table to be tortured and killed for their bone marrow??? As if Clarke didn't feel distraught over what she had to do, to the point that she felt like she had to leave her people and be on her own in the woods for months??? As if she didn't have nightmares??? As if she didn't feel guilt and regret over Mount Weather and Maya up to freaking season 6??? And I get angry.

I think about how Bellarke, whether romantic, platonic or something in between, was the MAIN relationship of the show, with the most development and screen time. And that relationship was absolutely destroyed in the most contrived, spiteful way possible!!!! Jason had to character assassinate both Bellamy and Clarke to make it happen. That's how resentful of Bellarke and Bellarke shippers he was. Even though he was the freaking show runner!!! He had the power of writing Bellarke platonically from day one!!! But Bob and Eliza confirmed that they were told that Bellarke was romantic in nature, and that's how they performed it!!! Jason was the one who wrote 2x16 and 4x13, arguably two of the most important episodes for Bellarke... he came up with together!!! He took the head and the heart from the fans and put it in the show!!! He wrote Clarke calling Bellamy every day for 2,199 days!!! No one forced him to do that!!! But he did, and for what??? For Clarke to shoot Bellamy in the end and kill him??? Even if he didn't want to make them canon for whatever reason, he could've still written an ending that was respectful of their friendship and history in the show. But no!!! He had to destroy everything that made Bellarke what it was. And I get angry.

I think about how Octavia spent YEARS trying to get back to Bellamy, to see him again and tell him how much she loves him... And then in the second half of season 7, she just gives up on him??? She doesn't even TRY to understand what happened to him on Etherea, she doesn't talk to him, when Bellamy visits her and Clarke she just stands there with a disappointed face and doesn't say a word. And then when Clarke tells her that she killed Bellamy, she just hugs her and tells her that she understands??? And so would the old Bellamy???? The 'old Bellamy' she didn't even TRY to get back, the 'old Bellamy' she simply gave up on??? Literally every character from Octavia to Clarke to Raven to Murphy to Miller to Echo, had to be character assassinated so that Bellamy could die the way he did. Because none of them would've given up on him!!! They all loved Bellamy!!! He was the 'dad' of the deliquents and then the leader of Skaikru on the ring. But suddenly nobody cares about him, nobody tries to understand what happened to him or tries to change his mind, not even his SISTER!!! AND I GET ANGRY.

I think about how the message of season 3 was that 'pain means that you're alive' and 'you don't ease pain, you overcome it', and how it is better to live in an imperfect world than a perfect simulation. And then in season 7 there's Transcendence which is basically the City of Light 2.0, an immortal hive mind where there's no pain and no death. Just "peace" for eternity. But suddenly THIS hive mind is okay... because? Because the Judge and the other aliens (putting aside how ridiculous it is to introduce ALIENS in your show in the very last episode) are fair while A.L.I.E wasn't? There's nothing 'fair' about deciding which species is worthy of Transcendence and which isn't. Especially since the punishment for not passing the test is MASS GENOCIDE. And yet the Judge is portrayed as 'good' and 'fair' while A.L.I.E. was the one actually trying to ensure the survival of the human race!!! And don't get me wrong, A.L.I.E. was evil but in her methods, her motivs were actually morally sound compared to the Judge and the rest of the aliens. They only did what they did because they believed that they were morally superior to all other species, and if one species wasn't 'good' enough according to their moral standards, that meant that they deserved extinction!!!! "But at least with Transcendence you can choose whether you want to transcend or not, A.L.I.E. didn't give you a choice" bullshit!!! If you "choose" not to transcend, the aliens still take away your chance to procreate and have kids from you!!! They make you infirtile against your will!!! Your species still dies with you and your friends!!!! Why? Because some aliens said so!!! And that's supposed to be an happy ending??? Just because all the characters are smiling and hugging, it doesn't make this ending any less horrific once you think about it for like two seconds. And I get angry.

And finally I think about how the entire message of the show was NOT survival like Jason claims, but how 'life should be more than just surviving'. How 'life can be more than impossible choices and a tragic end'. How humans can 'be the good guys' and break the cycle of war and violence and tribalism. And in the end none of that mattered. Humans kept fighting each other up until the last episode and only stopped because they were being 'tested'. They got absorbed into a hive mind and they're going to be stuck there for all eternity, no lesson learned, no real peace gained. Our main characters, that we've followed for seven seasons, are going to eventually die, leaving nothing or no one behind. All the sacrifices, all the impossible choices they've made... completely meaningless, since the 'survival' of the human race was never up to them building a better world and society after all, it was always up to the morally superior aliens. I think about how they got to survive, but they didn't get to live. And I get angry... because I really loved this show and these characters so much... and they just... they deserved better. They really did.

[stevesjockstrap]

During Pride Month

@stcreators event 09: Pride

@steddiesongfics June: Blondie - Heart of Glass

Steve/Eddie • rated T • mentioned Robin/Vickie and Argyle/Nancy/Jonathan • alcohol, getting together, idiots to lovers • read on ao3

It was a wonder Eddie even hung out with this group anymore, honestly. It was usually entertaining at the very least, but he was starting to question his life choices. Their normal bar had been hosting Pride month events, which wasn’t the issue, Robin had lead their team to victory during a trivia night and Eddie and Steve had won the Newlywed game last week. They hadn’t told him tonight was karaoke, though. The later it got, the more the bar had steadily filled up and the performers turned to either pretty decent singers or at least those who knew they were drunk and off key enough to encourage the heckling from their friends and the crowd.

Sinking into his buzz enough to consider staying now, he looked around their booth. Robin and Vickie were cuddled up in one corner and Nancy was sandwiched in between Argyle and Jonathan.

Steve always drove Eddie crazy on their nights out. Either utilizing his scary dog privileges when he didn’t want any attention, sitting under Eddie’s arm all night and dragging him to the dance floor to plaster himself to his front. Worse were the nights when he did want the attention, flitting enthusiastically between whoever struck his fancy around the bar. Robin would send him sly looks on those nights, knowing where Eddie would rather have him, but since they weren’t actually together Eddie couldn’t keep him on the stool next to his.

So when Steve disappeared, Eddie tried not to let it bother him and instead lined up the shots for the table, keeping his eyes down and making himself not search out the gorgeous mop of hair. To who was touching or looking at him.

Until the next song started and the amplified voice drew all their attention to the stage. The sassy walk across the stage to send their far table a look made Eddie gasp and Robin yell out. Jon chuckled from next to him.

“Once I had a love and it was a gas

Soon turned out had a heart of glass.”

Steve usually stuck to Springsteen, safe power ballads or dramatic duets with Robin when they felt extra goofy. Nothing like this. Eddie couldn’t tear his eyes away from him, not looking at all at the screen for the words, putting much more emotion into the song.

Eddie clinked his shot quickly with his friends’ then tapped it on the table before finally breaking eye contact with Steve as he threw it back.

“What I find is pleasing and I’m feeling fine

Love is so confusing there's no peace of mind

If I fear I’m losing you it’s just no good

You teasing like you do.”

“Fuck,” he breathed as the alcohol burned its way down, Steve winked at him and one handedly pulled his shirt over his head revealing a tight tank top.

“Maybe this’ll finally get his attention,” Vickie stage whispered to Robin who quickly shushed her, both of them dissolving into hysterical laughter.

Eddie didn’t know what that meant, but immediately directed his gaze back to the crooning man on the stage.

“Once I had a love and it was a gas

Soon turned out to be a pain in the ass.”

“Hey, does he mean me?” Nancy huffed and Jonathan coughed into his beer, but Eddie ignored them, too.

Standing, he walked closer to the stage, getting a thrill as Steve’s eyes followed him as he sang, paying no attention to the other patrons who were definitely taking interest. Steve wouldn’t be leaving with anyone else tonight if he could help it.

As the last chords died out from the song, Steve couldn't hold back the smirk twitching on his lips watching Eddie approach the steps to the stage.

The polite clapping from the crowd crescendoed as he opened his arms for Steve and instead of taking the steps, jumped from the stage and wrapped his legs around Eddie. With a small ‘oof,’ he caught him around the waist and met his open mouthed kiss. The rest of the bar joined their table in their screaming but Eddie was focused on Steve.

“Took you dinguses long enough!” Robin screamed over the noise when they broke apart and Eddie had to kiss the somehow shy smile from his lips.

Maybe karaoke hadn’t been so bad after all.

Many thanks and kisses to @lawrencebshoggoth for like this entire prompt and song choice 😘🖤

Pride stars divider by @steddiecameraroll-graphics 🤩

[tigerlyla-of-metinna]

I'm doing a tag game!

What are your 3 historical gaming moment?

Anything related to videogames: be it achieving the highest score in the arcade, defeating that final boss after 100 tries, winning a PS5 in a raffle, getting a photo or autograph of a VA, cosplaying a videogame character... anything!

Then tag 5 people (minimum) and let's reminisce. Spread some positivity!

🎆🎆🎆🎆🎆🎆🎆🎆🎆🎆🎆🎆🎆🎆🎆🎆🎆🎆🎆🎆🎆🎆

🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉

Here are my 3 personal best (in no particular order)

1.Tekken 3

The first time I truly enjoyed playing a fighting game (I still hate playing PvP in fighting games cuz an actual human is way better at it than me) was when I finally approached a real Tekken pro. A big arcade opened up in my city and I was the only girl who went there every weekend and buy 30 tokens (Php 90.00) to feed the various machines. I saw this tall college dude play King and I was mesmerized watching him pull all of Kings grapples. After several months, I watched him from behind, playing Tekken 3 until I muster up the courage to ask him how he pulled off all his moves. The college dud pulled a piece of paper and pen and began to write down all of Kings' combos and grabs, and gave it to me! Since then I have practiced on every Tekken 3 machine, pulled off all Kings' impressive grapples to a growing audience who couldn't believe their eyes that this little highschool girl is playing Tekken 3 and beating it! Oh and I became good at the games that I reduced my 30 tokens to 5.

2. Resident Evil 2 (PS1)

This game came with the console my mom gave me. First time I popped the disc in and chose Leon S Kennedy on normal mode, I was piled upon by zombies and died. That game over screen traumatized me and I did not pick up RE for months! When I did gave it a second chance, I notice there was a 3rd mode: ARRANGED. It made the game ridiculously easy by giving me all the weapons, and so I plowed through Raccoon City with my machine gun and rocket launcher. It was fun until it wasn't. I decided to play the game on Normal, got eaten and died, then powered through it. Finally beat the game on Normal and Hard. Also went for the S Rank and bonus content. Now I love all horror and survival horror games (Silent Hill, Outlast, Evil Within, etc). It became my favorite genre.

3. The Witcher 3

Had it not for this game, I wouldn't have made The Nilfgaardian Collection or started digital art. I think it was December 2019 (or 16 I dunno, it was Xmas), my brother gave me two choices: TW3 or FF15. I wanted FF15 cuz I have always been a fan of Final Fantasy and TW3 was hyped to the heavens. I wanted to know if the hype was justified and so I got TW3 GOTY edition. The hype... was well deserved! I was hooked, I plat the game, I decided to make fanarts of my fave character (Emhyr) and gave myself a goal: to have the biggest collection of Emhyr and Nilfgaard pics and be known as that crazy chick with an unhealthy obsession to Emhyr and his Nilfgaardian empire. Thus cemented the Nilfgaardian Collection in the fandom!

I taggeth @bittersweetbark, @alphagravy, @rotatingremains, @regis-favorite-raven, @oblakovka, @smehur, @laurikarauchscat, @jawanaka, @traumschwinge, @valandhirwriter

[ecargmura]

Bucchigiri?! Episode 12 Review + Final Thoughts - The Final Showdown Between The Genies

I’m not sure if Bucchigiri’s ending is either good or bad. It’s not bad because everything ends happily, but it’s not good because there are still a lot of unanswered questions despite the rather joyful ending.

The battle between Ichiya and Senya was actually really good in terms of animation. I feel like MAPPA was going all out with the sakuga for the finale, but Ichiya’s reasons for wanting to fight Senya felt a little asinine. He contracted a disease and wanted Senya to kill him before it could kill him. Ichiya, why didn’t you say this before you died? Maybe you didn’t have to fight to the death for this; maybe Senya could’ve found a way to cure you? All this sudden lore about these genies feels shoehorned in because for a story that revolved around these two genies, so little is known about them. Even towards the end of the story, the stuff about the war, why they became genies and how their story and the Honki people legend becoming a thing in Arajin’s hometown never gets explored and I feel like it’s a waste; all of this could’ve been explored earlier, but no, we had to focus on the fighting and Arajin.

I can’t believe it took 12 episodes for Arajin to get an awesome fight sequence that doesn’t revolve around him punching someone really hard once. That’s crazy. While it’s nice that he finally wants to help Matakara, his word choices make it seem like he’s not doing it out of true concern and he’s just doing it because he had no other choice. The fact that what pulls him out of his funk towards the middle of the fight, the part where he thinks he’s dying, is the the power to lose his virginity with a chibi Mahoro fairy. That seems a little stupid because he did call out Matakara for projecting onto him, but not once has anyone called him out for doing the same thing with Mahoro. Also, his concern for Senya doesn’t seem too genuine to me as he did spent the entirety of the show not wanting him around and tolerating him at best and suddenly, he misses him. I feel like I’m side-eyeing the writers hard for this.

I do wonder what the deal with the black shadow thing is because it did take over Ichiya, causing Matakara to be the sudden final boss of the story. While it is stated that it’s Matakara’s fears of being alone, it does feel like a cop out moment. Like, when could you do this? How is this possible? The fact that Ichiya seems to be okay after this ordeal to makes this thing feel like it’s not worth it in the end.

The side characters’ antics were interesting. Arajin’s mom was hilarious as always as she believes Arajin is sleeping over at a friend’s house and becoming a man; while the context of her words means intercourse, the actual meaning is different in the context of the current situation. The part with Mahoro trying to wake her brother up was funny because she chained Kenichiro to his hospital bed. Girl, was that necessary? The Zabu and Komao parts were sweet because they were looking for Matakara even though Zabu was injured and cannot move well, so Komao spent most of his time being his horse. The other Siguma Squad members felt like they were just there because they needed to be; by the way, Jabashiri’s first name is Nagare, so why is Hagure calling him Ryu-chan? The part with Arajin’s homeroom teacher stealing Jasmine was funny; we all knew Jasmine was a cat. It sucks that she essentially became a stray afterwards. Also, I called Mitsukuni being alive! I knew he was alive from the moment his dead body and funeral weren’t shown on-screen. Utsumi won’t kill off characters at all unless it’s Banana Fish. Look at Senya; he came back!

The little epilogue was cute, but a little irritating on Arajin’s part because he’s still simping over Mahoro who’s still not giving him a millisecond of her time. Good. The fact that he wanted to mimic Marito in hopes of winning her heart is also sort of weird because Mahoro would actually despise him if he did that. While Matakara didn’t get punishment for his actions, at least he, Zabu and Komao became friends again. The part where Minato Kai and Siguma go to the Tomoshibi restaurant and Arajin’s mom becomes a Marito fangirl was funny; the fact that Mahoro got jealous was even more hilarious; she officially hates the Tomoshibi family now.

Overall, I find the finale a bit flat? Like there were good stuff and Arajin did show some growth, but the epilogue sort of backtracks it with his thing with Mahoro but at least he isn’t avoiding Matakara anymore. I wanted more lore on the genies and for the other characters too, honestly. It’s not bad, but it’s not good either.

FINAL THOUGHTS

With how much I enjoyed Utsumi’s other works, I did tune in to Bucchigiri, hoping for the same excitement I felt watching her previous works, but even Utsumi has her off days. Bucchigiri is that off day. Out of all of her works so far, I can honestly say that this is her weakest work so far. I’m actually amazed because the combination of Hiroko Utsumi, the director of known shows like Free!, Banana Fish and SK8 The Infinity and Taku Kishimoto, the screenwriter of the Fruits Basket remake, Haikyuu, Blue Lock and Millionaire Detective, should result in something good, right? WRONG! A positive and a positive actually came out as a negative for once. The math you learned in school had been a lie all along.

Bucchigiri is a work where the other characters shine more than the protagonist Arajin. Arajin starts off a bit interesting but as the weeks pass by, the more insufferable he becomes without any redeeming qualities until the finale. Imagine writing a story where the protagonist only experiences bad qualities and only grows at the end. What kind of story is that? The side characters certainly shined more than Arajin, but that’s just my bias. It sucks that some of them have to be one-dimensional in order for Arajin to shine, but Arajin doesn’t really deserve it. I feel like this show would’ve been better had Matakara or Marito been the protagonists.

It’s a unique spin on the delinquent story as it’s mixed with genies, giving it a more supernatural flair. Unfortunately, the genie aspect is underutilized as the story likes to focus on the fights more. The fights aren’t bad—they’re good, but if you’re going for a story about genies, maybe try to use them and not be plot device for the inactive protagonist or as a sudden surprise villain. With Ichiya, we don’t even know how he got to be with Akutaro and why they haven’t fused. In fact, the genie lore itself was heavily undermined because I don’t know anything about these genies. They had a past together but where did they live? Why was there a war? How did they become genies? I still need my answers!

The music was surprisingly good. The opening and ending songs were really addicting and it sucks that they had to be used for an anime like this. The animation was amazing, courtesy of MAPPA. Despite MAPPA being overworked, they did a great job producing quality sakuga scenes for the fight scenes.

The voice acting was really good too. Utsumi knows how to cast quality voice actors. I love that she likes to use a mix of lesser known names with veterans. The only role I knew of Genki Okawa before Bucchigiri was from Yugioh Zexal, where he voiced Mizael. Despite Arajin not being a great character, Okawa did a great job voicing him. Matakara’s voice actor Yusuke Hoshino is a relatively new face, but he did a great job voicing Matakara from the cute and sweet side to the colder side. Masafumi Kobatake has been a name I’ve been seeing recently as he was in Frieren as Dunste and here as Senya. He was hilarious. I love the gap in his deep voice with his higher pitched gremlin voice for the chibi form. The side characters are all known names mixed with rather new faces, but they all did a great job. My favorites were Nozomu Sasaki as Marito and Chihiro Suzuki as Akutaro. They both did a great job doing the crazy sides of these two characters.

In all honesty, I wanted to like this show. Maybe if I wasn’t an anime reviewer, I would’ve had higher praises for this show, but as an anime reviewer, I can’t help but to be critical. It’s not a bad thing to be critical—to me, that is. I feel like I’m at the point in my life where I need to be more expressive and be more honest about my likes and dislikes. I dislike this anime. There, I said it. I just feel like it wasn’t the delinquent, hand-to-hand combat show I was expecting. I don’t recommend this show, honestly. If you want to watch a better Utsumi show, you’re better off watching SK8. I’ll be here watching Wind Breaker for my seasonal dosage of delinquent anime now. What are your thoughts on this anime as a whole?

[dilemmaontwolegs]

hi love!! can you write loki x reader who is tony’s daughter and tony is trying to figure out who in the tower the reader has been seeing? & when he finds out he goes crazy lol. thank you! i love your writing <3

Here you go sweetie, I hope you enjoy it xx

Undercover || Loki

Warnings: mentions of murder, allusion to smut WC: 1k

main masterlist || loki masterlist

“Just tell me who it is.” Your father begged you. “It’s not Barnes is it? You know he killed your grandparents.”

You rolled your eyes and crossed your arms. “You really need to get over that. It was the Winter Soldier and he had no choice in the matter. Plus those were the people who threatened my mother into leaving the city when she found out she was pregnant with me. They are the reason you had no idea about me and mom had to raise me on her own. As far as I’m concerned I only had one set of grandparents and it was not Howard and Maria. In fact it was only because they died that mom was able to contact you, in a way you should-”

“Don’t you dare say I should thank him young lady.” Tony growled as he tapped his finger to his chin in thought. “So it is Barnes…I’m going to kill that son of a bitch.”

“It’s not him.” You said as you walked away. “And I’m not going to tell you, dad.”

You left him in his office as you made your way down to the lower floors that housed the compound residences. You found yourself outside the entrance to the floor shared by Thor, Loki, Steve, Bucky and Sam. You knew your father would be sitting in his office, watching the video feed and waiting to see who you were dating but you were as adept at programming as he was. You pulled out your phone and opened the app you had created that was linked to Friday’s operating system and waved to the camera before activating the signal jammer.

“Friday, what just happened?” Tony asked as he  hit refresh on his computer but the screen was still blank.

“Miss y/l/n has blocked the surveillance system on the 4th floor.”

“Well unblock it.” Tony growled, opening the system settings and looking to see what you had done to Friday. “How…?”

“I’m sorry, sir, it is not something I can undo.” Friday admitted as Tony fell back in his chair covering his face as he too saw he couldn’t break it either.

“I’ll just have to go old school.”

Tony left the compound in a rush, tires screeching and smoking as he tore out of the parking lot. You stood in the reflective window watching with a shake of your head before a pair of arms wrapped around your waist.

“You’re quite the tormentor, my love.” Loki chuckled in your ear.

“I learnt from the best.” You teased as you turned in his arms and pushed him back to the messy bed. “Now where were we?”

Twice you had watched your father walking around the compound in a stupid wig, a thick pair of glasses and a fake moustache. He was lurking the corridors of the residence area and had walked straight past you while Loki struggled to control his amusement and keep the illusion in place.

“I can’t believe I’m going to ask for help from you of all people but have you seen my kid?” Tony asked Loki as he tore the moustache off with a grimace. “I’ll give you anything you want if you can help me figure out who she’s dating.”

“What if it’s me?” Loki asked with a mischievous grin.

Tony scoffed and rolled his eyes. “She’s the fruit of my loins, Rudolph. She’s gonna have better taste than that.”

“Hey!” You growled and broke the illusion, Tony startling at your sudden appearance. “Apologise now.”

Tony clutched his chest as realisation hit and he looked between the two of you, especially at your hand interlaced with Loki’s. Loki’s look of offence lasted mere seconds before a shit eating grin grew across his face and he draped his arm over your shoulders.

“Me, apologise to Reindeer Games?” Tony stuttered confused by your order. “Uh, where’s my apology?”

You really couldn’t believe his audacity. “For what?”

“How about lying to your own father?”

“I never lied to you, I just never told you who it was because you’re so dramatic.” You said with a wave towards his costume to prove your point.

“I thought I raised you better than this, y/n.”

“You have your head so far up your ass you really believe that don’t you.” You stepped out of Loki’s arm so you had your father’s complete attention as his eyes followed you. “You didn’t raise me, dad. And mom raised me to love who I want to love, for me that’s Loki. So either accept it or we will find our own place, gods know the universe is a big place.”

You didn’t want to have to go offworld to enjoy a life with Loki but you also wouldn’t stay where you were if your father couldn’t accept it. You were hoping your father could let go of his ego enough to realise he didn’t want to lose you over this but as the silence dragged on worry began to sink into the pit of your stomach.

It was Loki who stepped forward first and held his hand out, pulling your dad closer when they shook so he could whisper in his ear. “Don’t lose your daughter because you don’t like me. She doesn’t deserve that.”

You couldn’t quite hear what Loki said but you saw your father give the smallest of nods and he turned to you. “You weren’t supposed to grow up this fast kid.”

“Kind of how time works, dad. But If anyone figures out how to slow it down, I’m sure it’ll be you.” You smiled. “We good?”

He looked at Loki and sighed like he didn’t have a choice. “Yeah, we’re good. For now. I don’t have to tell you what I’ll do if you hurt her…”

Loki chuckled at the threat and shook his head. “Don’t worry, Stark, I’m more afraid of her than you.”

Tony grinned at you proudly. “That’s my girl.” 

In your mind you felt Loki’s own proud whisper. “That’s my girl.”

[waitimcomingtoo]

This is Me Trying

Part one and two

Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader enemies to lovers!

Synopsis: it’s time for secrets to come out

Masterlist

“How’s the project coming along?” You asked as you laid your head in Peter’s lap. You were in his room, like you always were, a month after you officially started dating.

“Just about done.” He answered you. “I made the periods bigger so we’d hit the maximum page length.”

“Ooo.” You snickered. “What a bad boy.”

“I’m really not.” He chuckled and began to play with your hair. “This is the most incriminating thing I’ve done all year.”

“I wouldn’t mind if you were.” You shrugged. “I like bad boys.”

“Do you?”

“Yeah. Remember that guy that like died in the war but then came back to life as an assassin? From a few years ago?” You asked as you looked up at him.

“The Winter Soldier?” Peter wondered.

“Yeah. Him.” You nodded. “I wanted to fuck him.”

The bluntness in your tone knocked the wind out of Peter’s chest. Nothing could have prepared him for what you had just said. You were too busy laughing to notice how shaken he was.

“W-what?” He stuttered as you sat up.

“I don’t know.” You laughed. “Like, I knew he was a murderer but I was into it. I wanted to spread him on a cracker.”

Peter pouted and folded his arms, his jealously getting the better of him.

“He’s not as strong as he looks, you know.” Peter got defensive. “And his hair is super greasy. It’s like a freaking slip and slide up there.”

“Hm. That’s a problem for me. I’m more into curls.” You smiled as you ran your fingers through his hair. “And how would you know how strong he is?”

Peter gulped, realizing he had said a little too much. Spider-Man knew how strong Bucky was, but you didn’t know about that.

“I don’t.” He lied. “I’m just assuming.”

“You don’t think he’s strong with that metal arm?” You asked as you pulled up a picture of him on your phone. “His biceps are like the size of my head.”

“They’re only bigger than mine because he’s older. A lot older.” Peter insisted. “Like, he’s geriatric.”

“Oh my God. Look at him!” You ignored Peter’s comment and showed him a picture of Bucky. “I want to suck on his thighs.”

“Ew.” Peter whined. “He’s like 400 years old.”

“So what you’re telling me is he’s experienced.” You raised your eyebrows suggestively. Peter let out an angry huff, jealousy bubbling in his stomach.

“Gross.” He groaned. “Why are you saying this in front of me? I’m your boyfriend. Not him.”

“I’m just kidding, Pete.” You chuckled and cupped his chin. “Plus, he’s basically a fictional character to us. It’s not like he’s some guy we know.”

Peter looked to the side, hating when he had to lie to you. Bucky was someone he knew personally, but you didn’t know that.

“Hm.” Peter mumbled quietly. You noticed Peter’s expression and climbed into lab, straddling his hips.

“Hey, I’m sorry.” You cupped his face and rubbed your nose against his. “I didn’t mean to make you all pouty. I’m only kidding about the Summer Soldier.”

“Winter Soldier.” Peter halfheartedly corrected you.

“Winter Soldier. See?” You shrugged. “I don’t even know his name.”

“You still said you would fuck him, though.” Peter pouted as he looked down at his lap.

“I said I wanted to. Past tense.” You corrected. “I had crush on him when I was like 14. I don’t even think of him or his thunder thighs anymore.”

“I have a hard time believing that.” Peter grumbled. You could tell he was still jealous so you pulled him in for a long kiss.

“It’s true. I only have eyes for you, Pete.” You whispered once you pulled away. He cracked a smile before rolling his eyes at you.

“Right.” He said sarcastically. “Just me and the murderer you want in your pants.”

“Come on.” You whined when he didn’t let up. “Can you even blame me? He works with the Avengers. You have to admit, that’s hot.”

Peter stopped pouting when he heard this. He may not be able to be the kind of bad boy you liked, but he was an Avenger.

“You really think that’s hot?” He raised an eyebrow.

“Duh.” You stated. “Don’t you like the Avengers?”

“Most of them.” He nodded. “But not Bucky.”

“Who’s Bucky?” You asked.

“Sorry.” He shook his head. “The Winter Soldier.”

“Why did you call him Bucky?” You laughed in confusion. You had no idea who James “Bucky” Barnes was. Unlike Peter, who sat across from him at dinner a week before.

“That’s his nickname.” Peter explained without thinking it through.

“I didn’t realize you and the Winter Soldier were on a nickname basis.” You teased. “What does he call you?”

“He doesn’t really talk to me.” Peter shrugged. “He’s really quiet, except when he’s with Cap.”

You sat back suddenly, looking at Peter like he was crazy. He was forgetting who his audience was and how you knew nothing of his double life.

“What?” Peter asked when he saw your face.

“Bucky? Cap?” You repeated his words. “Who are these people? What the hell are you talking about?”

“Bucky goes by, well, Bucky. And most of us call Steve, Cap.” Peter explained. “Well, except for Mr. Stark. He calls him Blondie most of the time.”

“So you’re hanging out with the avengers now?” You raised a skeptical eyebrow.

“Well, yeah, when when I’m…” Peter trailed off when he realized his mistake.

“When you’re what?” You asked. Peter knew he backed himself into a corner here. He didn’t want to lie to you anymore, so he figured it was time to tell you the truth. Not that he has much of a choice.

“I have something to tell you.” He stated. “It’s kinda important.”

“Okay.” You nodded and held his hand. “What’s up?”

“Don’t freak out, okay?” He prefaced. “It’s not as crazy as it sounds.”

“Oh.” You gasped. “Are you gay?”

“What? No.” Peter answered immediately. “Why was that your first guess?”

“Well my first guess was steroids but I know how you feel about that.” You mumbled out of the corner of your mouth.

“It’s neither of those things. I’ve Uh…I’ve been bitten.” Peter began, not sure how else to phrase it. You smiled a little, thinking he was flirting.

“So have I.” You mumbled as you brought his hand to your lips to kiss the back of it.

“No. Not like that.” He waved his hand and your face fell. “I mean, yes like that. But that’s not what I’m talking about right now.”

“Then what is it, Peter?”

“They do a lot of experimental science at Oscorp. Genetic mutations, stuff like that.” He explained, beating around the bush.

“Why are we talking about Oscorp?” You wondered.

“I broke into one of the labs freshman year.” He explained. “I was trying to figure out some equation my father was working on.”

“Okay.” You said skeptically.

“I ended up in this weird room with all these modified spiders and one bit me. Right here.” He showed you his knuckles, which had a tiny scar on the center. You took his hand and examined the scar closer.

“What is this leading to?”

“After I was bitten, I could do all these things I couldn’t do before.” He told you. “I could climb walls, lift buses, and you know, my biceps grew.”

“You’re telling me a spider bite gave you muscles?”

“I’m telling you that I’m Spider-Man.” He said finally, making the room go silent. It was his first time telling a person on purpose, so it meant a lot to him. Your expression changed from skeptical to serious as you dropped his hand. You reached forward slowly and touched his face, staring at him like you were seeing him for the first time.

“Oh my God.” You whispered. “Peter, you’re…”

He put his hand over yours when you trailed off, anticipating the end of your sentence. Suddenly, you pushed his face away with a smirk.

“Full of shit.” You finished. “You are so full of shit. You almost had me.”

“I’m not.” Peter insisted. “I am Spiderman. I swear.”

“Peter. Be serious.” You whined as you got off his bed. “I thought you had something real to tell me.”

“I am being serious.” He told you. “This is the truth.”

“This is the truth.” You mimicked his voiced, like you used to. “Why would I believe that? Because you called the Fall Fighter by his nickname? Please.”

Peter was starting to grow frustrated. He always feared someone would find out his secret and he’s have to beg them not to tell. He never imagined he’d be sitting in front of his girlfriend, trying to convince her he was Spiderman.

“I know Bucky’s nickname because I know him.” Peter explained as he got off his bed. “It’s the same reason I know how strong he isn’t. He tried to punch me once and I caught his fist before he could. And that thing is made of vibranium. My hand hurt for a week.”

“I don’t get it.” You shrugged. “I don’t get the joke.”

“It’s not a joke. I really am Spiderman.” He insisted. “Mr. Stark recruited me back in 2016 to help him fight Captain America at an airport in Germany.”

“Yeah.” You nodded. “And I killed Princess Diana. I killed her and framed John-“

Peter grabbed your face and kissed you to shut you up, not wanting to hear your jokes when he was trying to tell you the biggest secret of his life.

“Can you shut up for a second?” He asked sweetly when he pulled away. “I’m trying to talk to you about something important. And we both know who really killed her.”

“No you’re not.” You snorted. “You’re trying to mess with me.”

“I’m telling you the truth.” He whined. “Why won’t you believe me?”

“Because you’re saying ridiculous things.” You chuckled as you walked over to your phone, which had been resting on his desk.

“May’s asking what we want for dinner.” You read her text off your screen. “Do you want Chinese again or-“

Before you could finish your sentence, Peter shot a web at your waist and pulled you towards him. You stumbled into his arms before looking down in confusion. You saw the web attached to your hip and tugged at it, but it didn’t come off. You looked at Peter with wide eyes for some answers.

“What the fuck?” You whispered harshly as you yanked on the web.

“Do you believe me now?” He asked as he held up his wrist. You saw the web shooter he had slipped on and touched it carefully. Between the web on your hip and his crazy story, you had no choice but to believe him.

“Well now I’m just embarrassed.” You mumbled sheepishly. “I was pretty sure I was right.”

“I told you you’d have to get used to be being right.” Peter smirked as he helped pull the web off of you. You put your hands on your hips and sighed loudly as you processes the information.

“Okay, wait.” You began. “How have you been Spider-Man this whole time? I’ve seen you fall up the stairs.”

“It’s different when I have the suit on.” He told you. “It gives me confidence.”

“Can I see it?” You asked, a childlike smile on your lips.

“The suit? Sure.” Peter went to his closet and pulled it out of his hiding spot. He brought it over to you, noticing your awestruck expression and smiling.

“Wow.” You whispered as you stared at the folded suit. “Can I touch it?”

“Go ahead.” He smiled, loving how impressed you were. He watched you fondly as you carefully ran your fingertips along the suit, tracing all the lines and details.

“It feels like a football.” You commented, making him laugh.

“Yeah.” He agreed. “I’m not sure what material it is. Mr. Stark made it for me.”

“Tony Stark made this for you?” You gasped.

“Yeah.” He nodded. “A few years ago.”

“Is that when he recruited you?” You wondered. “For Germany?”

“Is it. You listened.” He smiled happily when you remembered little details he had told you.

“Well I can’t tune you out anymore if you’re my boyfriend.” You winked at him before returning your attention to the suit. He blushed a little, appreciating how far you’ve come in your relationship.

“Can you put it on for me?” You asked suddenly as you looked up at him. Peter didn’t expect this reaction, especially not this request.

“Really? You want me to put it on?” He smiled shyly.

“Please?” Your eyes lit up. “I want to see you in it.”

“Okay.” He nodded as he tried to hide his excitement. “I’ll go put it on.”

Peter went into his bathroom and slipped into the suit. He didn’t know why he was as excited as he was to show you. Maybe because you hadn’t caught him in the suit like May and Ned had. He told you his secret willingly, and you asked to know more.

“Are you ready?” You called from the other side of the door. “I feel like I’m waiting to see you walk down the aisle.”

“I’m ready.” He called back as he pressed the center of the suit so it tightened against his skin. He gave himself one last look in the mirror before going back to his bedroom.

“Here it is.” He said sheepishly as he walked towards you. “What do you think?”

Your jaw dropped a little when you saw him. He seemed taller, but you realized it was just because he wasn’t slouching. In his suit, he looked more confident then you had ever seen him. He looked like a hero, and it brought a smile to your face.

“Holy shit.” You whispered as you walked closer to him. You reached forward to touch him, but quickly moved withdrew your hand.

“Are you scared?” He worried when he saw you pull away.

“No. Not of you.” You assured him. “But sometimes I find random glitter on my hands and I’m scared of getting anything on the suit.”

Peter chuckled at your reasoning and picked up your hand.

“It’s okay. You can touch me.” He whispered as he put his hand on his chest. Your eyebrows went up when you felt his warmth through the suit.

“Wow.” You smiled softly. “I didn’t think I’d be able to feel your heartbeat through it”.

“Well you make it beat pretty fast.” He told you as he put his hand over yours.

“Wait.” You pulled away a little. “If you’re Spider-Man, does that mean…”

“Yes?” Peter asked when you trailed off.

“You can set me up with Bucky.” You finished your sentence. “Do you have his number? Tell him I want to wash his hair.”

Peter let out a loud groan, not finding your joke funny. You laughed and tried to pull him back to you, but he kept pulling away.

“I’m kidding. I’m kidding. Come back.” You laughed and tugged on his arm. “Come here. I love you.”

Peter stopped pulling away and froze. When you saw the bewildered look on his face, your smile fell.

“What?” He asked, his voice coming out in a whisper. That shit eating grin you used to hate broke through, lighting up his features. You tried not to let your shock show as you realized what you had said.

“Hm?” You pretended not to understand. “What?”

“What did you just say?” Peter again, now unsure he has heard you correctly.

“I didn’t say anything.” You shrugged, trying to act like you didn’t just tell your boyfriend that you loved him. It’s not that you didn’t mean it, but you didn’t mean to tell him that soon.

“Did you just tell me you loved me?” Peter asked hopefully as he pulled your closer to him.

“Hm. No. Wasn’t me.” You shook your head. “Must have been the wind.”

“My windows are closed.”

“Air conditioning.” You corrected.

“It’s off.”

“Then I don’t know what to tell you. I didn’t tell you I loved you. That would be ridiculous. How could I have fallen in love with the most annoying person on the planet?” You asked, questioning yourself more then him. You didn’t know how you had fallen for Peter in such a short amount of time. Just a few months ago, you couldn’t stand him. Now, you were standing in front of him, hoping he loved you back.

“I ask myself that every time I look at you.” He said, making your breath hitch in your throat.

“Are you saying you love me too?” You asked slowly.

“I thought you didn’t tell me you loved me?” He smirked, always taking a chance to tease you.

“I didn’t.” You lied, but you knew you were caught.

“Damn. That’s a shame.” Peter smiled softly. “Because I love you.”

“Yeah.” You smiled back once he confessed his feelings. “I bet you do, loser.”

Peter laughed at your never ending need to insult him before pulling you into a kiss. You wrapped your arms around his neck to keep him close. You could feel his gloved hands on the bare skin of your waist and shivered. When you pulled away, you kept your foreheads pressed together.

“I never thought it would be you.” You mumbled as you twirled one of his curls around your finger. “I never thought I’d fall in love with you.”

“It surprised me too.” He chuckled. “I’m glad this happened though. You weren’t just who I wanted to be. You were who I wanted to be with.”

“Promise me you’ll be careful.” You whispered. “I don’t ever want to get a call at three am telling me I need to come to the hospital. And I don’t want to start bringing three roses to the cemetery instead of two.”

“Hey, I’m not going anywhere.” He assured you as he held your face between his hands. He wiped your tears away with his gloves hands and kissed your nose. “I would never go anywhere where you couldn’t follow”.

“Ew.” You sniffled as you wiped your eyes.

“Why ew?” He chuckled.

“We’re gross.” You said. “We fell in love and now we’re gross.”

“It’s okay.” He smiled. “I like being gross with you.”

“I’m gonna throw up.” You gagged, making you both laugh.

“You’ll be okay.” He told you, and you believed him.

“Okay, now that we got that conversation out of the way, I have a lot of questions about all of this.” You said as you gestured to his suit.

“Ask me anything.” He said. “I’ll answer.”

“What did you wear before this?” You wondered. “I saw Spider-Man sightings on the news before 2016.”

Peter went to his closet and pulled out his original Spider-Man suit, the makeshift hoodie he used to wear.

“This. I made it myself.” He said as he handed it to you.

“No kidding.” You teased as you took it from him. “Did you sew this with your feet?”

“It was the best I could do.” He rolled his eyes. “I’m so lucky he made me a real suit. This one was not very protective.”

“Actually, I kind of like it.” You smiled as you held it up. It had bullet holes and tears everywhere. “It shows where you’ve been. And how far you’ve come.”

“I like your way of looking at it.” He smiled. “It’s yours, if you like it so much. I don’t need it anymore.”

“Why don’t you tell people that its you? This would make you famous. Like, Tony Stark famous.” You said as you put the hoodie on. “Don’t you want that? You know, since you’re such a loser at school.”

“Very funny”. He narrowed his eyes at you. “And no, actually. I’m safer this way. Plus, the bad guys can’t tell if I’m scared with the mask on. And it’s fun to have a secret. It gives me an edge.”

“Wow. I did not think me telling you I wanted to fuck the Winter Soldier would lead to all of this.” You poked fun at the situation.

“Me either but I’m glad it did.” He remarked. “I’m happy that you know. And I’m happy that you love me.”

“Well don’t make a big deal out of it.” You mumbled. “It’s embarrassing.”

“Don’t be embarrassed.” He laughed. “This is exciting. It’s all exciting.”

“We get it.” You teased as you wrapped your arms around his neck. “You’re an Avenger, I’m in love with you, yada yada. It’s not that big of a deal.”

“It’s the hugest deal.” He insisted. “I want you to meet them. Come meet my team.”

“You want me to meet the Avengers?” You gulped.

“Yeah. I’m supposed to stop by the tower later for a meeting. Why don’t you come with me? This is one of the rare days where everyone is in the tower.”

“Are you sure about this?” You asked him. “What if they don’t like me?”

“They probably won’t.” He said simply. “Since you’re so irritating and everything.”

“Shut up.” You shoved him playfully. “I’m serious. This is way more intimidating than meeting someone’s parents.”

“Don’t be scared. I’ll be holding your hand the entire time.” He said as he kissed your knuckles. “And they’re way less intimidating than they seem. I promise, you’ll be fine.”

“Okay.” You reluctantly agreed. “I’ll meet them. But if I see Bucket, I can’t promise I’ll be able to control my hormones.”

“It’s Bucky.” He corrected. “And I’ll know if you’re getting too, you know, hot and bothered.”

“How would you know?” You asked, and his face flushed.

“Well, one of the powers I got was super smell. I can smell when people are scared or happy or…” He trialed off, too much or a gentleman to say the word.

“Horny?” You asked with a dropped jaw. “You can smell when people are horny?”

“I prefer the term aroused.” He said sheepishly, making you laugh loudly.

“Oh my God. What a pervert.” You teased him.

“It’s not my fault!” He was flustered now. “I didn’t ask for this power.”

“Wait.” You realized. “Can you smell when I’m aroused?”

Peter didn’t answer, but his silence spoke volumes. Your jaw dropped as you playfully smacked him.

“You pervert!” You painfully scolded. “You could smell that and never told me?”

“It’s my my fault.” He whined. “Not all the time, anyway.”

“So when is it your fault?” You folded your arms and he gulped.

“It’s only my fault when I purposefully wear that one white shirt.” He said quietly. “Whenever I’m wearing it, I can always, you know...”

“Smell me?” You nearly screamed. “You wear that shirt just to get a rise out of me? You little slut.”

“I’m not a slut.” Peter laughed. “I could just smell how much you liked it, so I started wearing it more. And in the name of being honest, I can smell you right now.”

“Oh my God. You whore. You little minx.” You taunted playfully. “Using your body for attention like that. What a dirty little slut.”

“I’m not dirty or a slut.” Peter insisted. “You’re the one who gets worked up over a t shirt.”

“Excuse me?” You let out a shocked laugh. “Don’t turn this around on me, mister. I can’t control how I react to your erotic clothing. Especially when you’re the one who can’t even form a sentence around me when I wear that one red skirt.”

“Erotic?” He shot back. “It’s literally a $5 shirt from Target. It’s shapeless. And that skirt could not be shorter. I can literally see your ovaries in it.”

“You give it shape with your stupid spider muscles.” You said as you pointed an accusing finger at him.

“Oh my God.” He gasped. “You’re thinking about the shirt now, aren’t you?”

“No I’m not.” You said quickly.

“Really?” He cocked his head. “Smells like you are.”

Before you could respond, and you had a lot to say, Peter’s phone buzzed.

“It’s Mr. Stark.” He told you. “He said I should come now.”

“We’re finishing this conversation later.” You said as you grabbed your phone. “You’re still in trouble.”

“Whatever you say.” Peter chuckled as he lead you out the door. You thought you were going to the elevator, but Peter brought you to the staircase.

“I don’t walk there.” He said as he lead you up the stairs. He opened the door to the roof and gestured to the edge. “I swing.”

The next thing you knew, you were swinging towards the Avengers tower in Peter’s arms. You held on tightly to him as you tried not to scream in his ear. He was loving how he finally got to show someone what his life was like while you were fearing for your life. Finally, you landed on the balcony of the tower and Peter set you down.

“So?” He asked excitedly. “Did you have fun?”

“You tell me. Can’t you smell my excitement?” You jeered as you caught your breath. Peter knew you weren’t going to drop that for a long time. He took his mask off and lead you inside, not wanting to tell you that he could smell how scared you were.

Finally, he brought you to the conference room where the rest of the Avengers were. Their causal chatter came to a stop when you walked in together and all eyes were on you.

“Hey everyone.” Peter said shyly. “This is my girlfriend, Y/n. Shes gonna sit in on the meeting today.”

“Y/n?” Nat jumped in immediately. “The one who’s hair you used to stick gum in when you were little?”

“I thought Y/n was the girl who filled your locker with extra small condoms and the filmed you when they all fell out.” Sam chuckled, giving you an impressed smile.

“No, wait.” Bruce cut in. “I thought she was the one who started the rumor that Peter didn’t know how to swim.”

“You’re all wrong.” Steve sighed. “Y/n is the one Peter blamed losing the class pet on. Remember? The little rat escaped and he told the class it was her fault.”

“It was a hamster.” Peter cringed. “And it was my fault. Sorry about that.”

“I love you, but I will never forgive you for that.” You smiled softly as you stroked his cheek with your thumb. The team looked at each knowingly at this display of affection.

“Love?” Tony asked as he entered the room. “Are we talking about how much you all love me?”

Tony stopped in his tracks when he saw you standing there. You had forgotten to take off Peter’s original Spider-man hoodie, and it caught Tony off guard. He never thought he’d see that hoodie again, the one that brought him to Peter in the first place. The one he studied and tried to replicate when he made Peter a new suit. The corners of his mouth turned down as he appreciated how much Peter had grown.

“Oh. I see Peter brought a friend.” Tony remarked. “Please, make yourself at home in our top secret facility that no one unauthorized personnel is supposed to enter.”

“Mr. Stark, this is my girlfriend Y/n.” Peter introduced you. You held out your hand for Tony to shake, and he did so without taking his eyes off of you.

“Y/n?” He asked. “The one-“

“Yeah. Probably.” You nodded, making him laugh.

“Nice to meet you, Y/n.” He said as he straightened himself out. “You’re welcome to sit in on the meeting. But if you make any noise, you will be taken out by a sniper.”

“He’s kidding.” Peter whispered to you, but he wasn’t entirely sure. Peter took a seat and you sat on his lap, making him fight back a smile. He was now at an Avengers meeting with his former enemy sitting on his lap, wearing his clothes.

“Thank you, sir.” You smiled at him. “It’s nice to meet you too. All of you. I appreciate everything you guys have done for the world. You’re all really brave.”

“Your boyfriend is pretty brave too.” Steve commented. “He surprises me everytime we work together.”

“I was surprised too.” You agreed. “I didn’t think the biggest loser I knew was protecting Queens.”

Everyone raised their eyebrows at your subtle jab at Peter and it suddenly made sense why the girl he’d been complaint about all these years had the same name as his girlfriend.

“You let her talk to you like that?” Sam teased.

“She can say whatever she wants.” Peter shrugged. “And she does. Do you know how hard it is to get her to stop talking?”

“Not nearly as hard as it is to get you to clean up after yourself, put the toilet seat down, or show up on time for dates.” You replied with a cheery smile. Peter smiled back and took the loss, not wanting to get into it in front of his team. He turned back to Tony and gave him his full attention as the meeting began. You stayed quiet on Peter’s lap as the team discussed their next mission and who would be covering what territory. You made a small noise when Tony gave Peter his assignment, making everyone look at you.

“Whats the matter?” Peter asked as he bounced you a little on his knee.

“I just didn’t realize you were such an important part of the team.” You said. Peter had a big role that required a lot more responsibility than you thought he was capable of. He didn’t seem worried in the slightest, which told you he was used to this much responsibility. Something about Peter’s ambition and ability to take on Avenger level tasks for very appealing to you.

So appealing, in fact, that Peter noticed.

“Hm.” Peter said and he sniffed the air. You folded your lips in, knowing exactly what he was doing. The rest of the team had no idea what was happening, but you knew Peter was trying to get a rise out of you.

“What’s wrong?” Nat took the bait. You pinched Peter’s leg under the table as he took another loud whiff.

“Nothing.” Peter smirked. “It just smells funny in here.”

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[thefanficmonster]

Corpse’s Girl

Corpse Husband x Reader (Female)

Warnings: Bullying, Swearing, Derogatory Terms

Genre: Angst, Fluff

Summary: Y/N’s life as a regular college student is forever stripped away from her when her relationship with the famous YouTuber Corpse Husband is accidentally revealed during an online class of hers. How will she cope with the sudden spotlight and the unwanted attention, some of which crosses into bullying?

Requested by my amazing Tumblr friend @itsminniekat 🥰 She’s been reading and liking my works since day one and I honestly couldn’t be more grateful. If you’re reading this, all I can say is thank you, darling. Thank you so much for sticking by my blog even when I posted some crappy fics. I’ll make sure this ain’t one of them. Love you with all my heart. ❤❤❤

P.S. - I named the mean character with my name so I hope no one who reads this has the same name. Wouldn’t want any of you feeling like the villain 😘

Who knew online class would be even more boring than being physically present for a lecture? Seriously, I find myself doing the weirdest of crap to entertain myself - like trying to balance a pen on the tip of my nose for example. I jot down some notes every now and then but that’s basically it. My mind can not fathom the concept on concentrating on whatever my professors are going on and on about. Well, full disclosure, I couldn’t concentrate even if I wanted to, especially with my boyfriend streaming in the other room.

He’s currently playing Among Us with his usual gaming squad. Listening to his input during the discussions, I can always tell when he’s lying. I honestly find it hilarious that his friends can’t pick up when he’s bullshitting them. I sometimes wonder if he has brainwashed them. And that’s one of the main reasons we don’t play Among Us together - he can’t lie to me. Not only do I pick up on his con with ease, but he always says he feels bad when he lies to me which is just the sweetest thing. Also, I refuse to play cause I’m shy. His friends are all well-known content creators and I’m a literal nobody. Every now and then I find myself wondering why Corpse is even with me. He’s always quick to push those thoughts out of my head and make sure they don’t return on a long notice, but they do interrupt my peace from time to time.

“Y/N, do you know?“ The sound of my professor saying my name takes me out of my eavesdropping of Corpse’s stream.

I panic, but quickly improvise, “Sorry, my internet is slow, you cut out for a second. What was the question?” I feel my face heating up, making me glad we are allowed to keep our cameras off.

“Question number 15 on page 82 in your textbook. Do you know the answer to it?“ My professor repeats himself, his tone annoyed.

I look down at the page that’s already opened in front of me. I let out a sigh of relief, seeing that the question is rather easy.

“Yeah, um, it’s...“ Suddenly, Corpse’s laugh reaches my room loud and clear. There’s no doubt my mic picked up the noise, especially since the door to my room is open.

The color drains from my face as I hurry to say the answer and remute myself. My eyes are wide as I stare at my screen, hoping no one will acknowledge that very recognizable laugh.

“OMG Y/N, are you watching a Corpse Husband stream in class?” One of the bitches in my class, Vy, speaks up, “Not a very goody-two-shoe move on your part, dear.” 

I purposely unmute my mic to mumble a quick ‘Shut up, bitch’ that somehow manages to fly under my professor’s radar and the class continues. It’s the first time something like this has happened and I’m not sure if I handled it properly or not.

The class ends shortly after, allowing me a sigh of relief as I disconnect from the meeting. 

“Fucking finally.“ I mumble to myself, leaning back in my desk chair. Tilting my head backwards, I see Corpse standing in the doorframe. I grin, not only because his presence itself makes me ten times happier, but also because he’s upside down from my viewpoint. “Well, hello there! How long have you been spying on me?“

He struts over to me, leaning his face over mine, “Long enough.” His lips linger above mine without any actual contact before he pulls away, allowing me to sit up straight and proper in the chair. “You still have classes?”

I nod my head while disappointedly rolling my eyes, “Yeah. One more. Shouldn’t be too bad since it’s English Lit. You’re done streaming?”

“Yeah, I just have some other things to do. I haven’t done a narration video in a while, I miss making that type of content.“ He plops down on my bed, running a hand through his messy black curls.

“Weren’t you recording some lines a few days ago?“ I frown as I try to recall if what I’m referring to actually happened or my brain is too fried to decipher reality from my bootleg perception of it. Online class, man - messes with your head like sleeping pills - makes you disoriented and exhausted with barely doing anything other than trying to wrap your brain around a lecture or two.

He hums affirmatively, “It’s not a finished project and I don’t even know if I’ll use those or rerecord them. I’ll have to listen to them again before I make a final decision.“

I tilt his chin upwards with my pointer finger, a gesture he has told me he finds very endearing, “I’m sure they’re great and you just refuse to be satisfied. Everything you do is great.“

He smiles a small, shy smile, his fingers gently wrapping around my wrist, holding my hand in place, “You’re biased. You like me too much to tell me when I do some bullshit.”

I scoff, “You know that isn’t true. If someone’s gonna kick your butt in formation, it’s gonna be me.“ I give him a quick kiss on the forehead before pulling away from him, “Go on, now. I have a class to attend. You distract me enough while you’re in the other room, I can only imagine how hard it’d be for me to focus if you were right by my side.“

He smirks, bowing a little as he makes his way out of the room, “You flatter me.”

I playfully roll my eyes, getting my headset back on as I tap the last class for the day. We have an assignment due to the start of the class which we’ll have to present if the professor approved of it. We basically had to write a psychoanalysis of a character from any book of our choice. I chose Heathcliff from ‘Wuthering Heights’ which is one of my favorite books of all time. I’m proud of what I wrote and the way I wrote it, but I’ve always barely scraped by with a B in this class, a B+ if I’m lucky, so I’ve never gotten any major credit, even when I put my 110% in the assignments and projects.

Well, color me surprised when the professor calls on me first to read my work, complimenting it on its detailed and specific nature. I get my printed assignment out in front of me and unmute myself.

“I wrote a psychoanalysis on for Heathcliff, a character from Emily Bronte’s novel ‘Wuthering Heights’.“ Just after I say this line, Corpse’s voice booms throughout the whole apartment, no doubt being picked up by my mic. It doesn’t sound like he’s actually talking, he can’t be that loud. I put two and two together when I recognize the lines he’s saying - the ones he recorded a few days ago. They’re coming from his computer speakers. He probably didn’t check the volume before playing back the recording.

I mute myself as quickly as possible, but it’s too late. The voice dies down as Corpse probably turned down the speakers.

My professor, who is already done with this lecture, just annoyedly remarks, her words overdosed with sarcasm: “Read your assignment and you can go back to whatever it is you are watching.”

“Wow, Y/N! Again?! Are you one of those crazy obsessed fans or something? Is Corpse Husband all you watch?“ This bitch is really poking a stick at me, huh? The only crazy obsessed fan here is her, and my friends but they are allowed. Little do all of them know, I am obsessed but not simply over a YouTuber. I’m obsessed with my boyfriend who just happens to be a YouTuber.

“No commentary, please.“ The professor scolds her, “Go on, Y/N.“

I finish reading without any other disturbances. The professor compliments my essay again when I’m done, the small incident at the beginning forgotten already. Well, not by everyone. One of my friends shot me a quick text to joke about it which only earned an eye roll from me.

My friends don’t know that I’m dating Corpse either. As I said, they are simping HARD over him while I act the most indifferent on the subject. Whenever they ask my opinion on him I either say ‘he’s OK’ or just avoid answering completely. I know saying anything more enthusiastic than that would turn into a snowball rolling down a snowy hill - I’d just keep babbling about how nice, amazing, wonderful and a gift to this world Corpse is, inevitably revealing our relationship in the process.

I’m afraid of revealing my relationship with Corpse in front of these people. They are all run on jealousy and selfishness and I can only imagine how mean they’d be about it. I’m already not too fond of them, it would only be worse if any of my personal life was exposed.

When the class finally ends I remove my headset, putting my forehead down on the desk, barely missing the keyboard. I groan in frustration and anger at myself for not fighting back. I could’ve and should’ve said something - ANYTHING. But what? That’s a question I can’t find the answer to.

“Hey...“ Corpse’s hesitant voice comes from behind me, “You ok?“

I straighten my posture, turning to him with a smile. “Yeah, but these people suck.”

I get up from my chair as he approaches me, basically falling in his arms. The comfort I feel radiating off of him makes me relax, forget the past hour or so. He has always had this effect on me. Like my own personal kryptonite to my anger and anxiety.

“Did I get you in any trouble because of that?“ His voice shows clear concern and guilt. 

I wrap my arms around him tighter, burying my head in his chest. “No, don’t worry about it.“ 

And I really wasn’t in trouble. Not until now that the video is officially posted....

I can call these people dumb all I want but they sure put two and two together awfully fast. They recognized the lines they heard during class as the same ones from his new video that came out almost a week after the incident, aka two days ago. It’s safe to say I haven’t touched my phone or computer since.

“This is all my fault.“

Of all the horrible things I suspected would happen this has to be the worst - Corpse is blaming himself for it. I am prepared to take all the shit these people have to throw at me but seeing Corpse beating himself up over this is killing me. No amount of convincing can change his mind. Nothing I say helps.

“Please, stop doing this to yourself. Non of this is your fault, Corpse.“ I’ve repeated this sentence more than a thousand time these past forty eight hours, each time saying it more and more desperately.

“All of it is my fault, Y/N. I’m so sorry. I hate myself so much.“ Has been his reply single time.

 I can’t watch him be so mean to himself. It’s the most conflicting thing when the person you love most is torturing themselves. It’s easy if it’s someone else doing it, you just kick their ass. But what are you supposed to do when the person you want to protect is the same one you need to protect them from.

Corpse has shut himself away in his recording room these past few hours and though he clearly needs to be alone, he still left the door open just a crack cause he knows I’ll be worried sick otherwise.

While I’m alone in the living room, I’ve finally managed to brace myself and build enough courage to power up my laptop. Last time it was on it was going mad with notifications.

“It’s digital. Only digital. It can’t hurt you too badly if it can’t touch you, right?“ I mumble to myself, already frustrated despite not having yet seen all the horrors that await me.

And horrors there were. Everywhere. Twitter. Instagram. Facebook.

My grades. Some pictures of me no one has ever seen. My school files. People from my class tweeting Corpse to ‘expose’ me for the ‘slut’ or ‘bitch’ I really am. Corpse hasn’t touched social media either and I plan on making sure it stays that way. God only knows how much worse he’ll get if he sees these claims.

And then, like a notification sent straight from hell, an email from my professor.

Practical lectures on Friday. Be here at 9 AM. Don’t forget your mask and gloves.

Good thing I opened my laptop when I did. Friday is tomorrow and I need to prepare for this day. Not only do I need to hit the books but I need to toughen up a bit. I can’t go there looking like I feel - like a mess.

Alright, time to put the brave face on. No more wallowing in it, at least not until tomorrow afternoon.

I make a study plan and hop in the shower. I feel the need to apologize to my hair for washing it so roughly, basically yanking at my strands from frustration that has been suppressed for too long.

I get our of the boiling hot shower, red as a lobster, and change into some clean comfortable clothes and put my ass in study mode. I remove all the scary expectations of the morning to come from my mind and let the information the textbooks has to offer seep into my brain.

                                                            *  *  *

I’m about to head out and, despite my put-together composure, I am a wreck inside. I actually put effort into my appearance, I mean - I even styled my hair. A pretty façade to hide a ruin.

I saw my friends’ texts last night, all three of them ending their friendship with me because they felt betrayed. I haven’t yet decided how to feel about that. Doesn’t matter at the moment, there are more important matters at hand, aka surviving the next three hours.

My college is within ten minutes walking distance from our apartment. That ten minute walk has never been so stressful, not even during exam season. The air feels a little harder to breathe, the path a little shorter to walk. And my moment of reckoning a little too close.

I feel eyes on me the second I start walking through the park of our campus. Sure, I could just be paranoid, but the feeling is too real to be just my imagination in overdrive. I’m glad I have my hair down and a mask on so the redness of my cheeks and neck isn’t on display. That’s a sign of weakness right now.

We have two an hour and a half long classes between which we have a snack break that’s half an hour. I usually enjoy that period but I’m dreading it now. These assholes can only be so mean in the presence of a professor, but during lunch break they can increase that tenfold. 

“Well if it isn’t Corpse’s girl.“ I hear that a lot. The whispers are not so much whispers as intentionally loud enough for me to hear remarks. I’m not bothered by them, it’s the least they can do. If I let such a simple thing get to me, I’d be crumbling by the end of first period.

I hear some shuffling behind me and out of the corner of my eye I see, yeah you guessed it, THAT bitch. She’s standing as close to me as she can without violating Covid regulations. A mask is covering her face but the menacing look in her eyes tells me all I need to know about the interaction that’s about to go down.

“I’d ask how much he pays you for the hour.....“ her long nails tap the wooden desk, “but that’d be rude. I bet it’s tough being a maid. Do you just clean or are you a multipurpose lap dog? No offense, I’m genuinely curious.“

“Vy, would you be so kind as to give Y/N some room to breathe?“ The professor asks as he nonchalantly walks in.

Vy rolls her eyes, batting her eyelashes at me, “Talk to you later, sweetheart.” With a fake friendly wave she’s out of my hair, at least for now.

Remember what I said about these people not being as dumb as I pegged them to be? Yeah, scratch that. These fuckers actually tried getting away with taking pictures of me with flash in broad daylight. Like, HELLO! I have two functioning eyes and a brain, I’m onto you. Sadly, me having figured out their childish but hurtful methods of humiliating me doesn’t change much. They still posted the pics they took, using the most derogatory terms they could find in the English language, always making sure to tag Corpse and me both.

Needless to say, these were the longest three hours of my life.

                                                              *  *  *

Shutting the door to our apartment behind me causes relief of the highest levels. I feel like I’ve locked out all the bad shit I have had to deal with these past twenty four hours. 

I’m tired. I’m fucking exhausted. I feel like a discarded piece of paper. 

And it all starts crumbling. A wall is bound to start slowly falling apart after being hit over and over again, each time feeling the blows with a stronger intensity. 

I slide down the door sitting down on the floor and slowly taking my shoes off. I put my bag beside me and wrap my arms around my knees, hiding my head in the space between them and my chest.

One tear slides down my cheek.

Another follows.

And another, this time accompanied by a choked sob.

A pair of arms wraps around the ball that my body has been shaped into. One of his hands comes up to stroke my hair gently, feeding me the comfort I have been longing for since I left the apartment this morning.

“I saw it. All of it. All the shit they talk about you. All the names they call you. And I’ve never wanted to beat so many people up simultaneously.“ His words make me raise my head from its low position, giving him a knowing look. “I wish I could. I would, but that would land me in jail. Which doesn’t even sound so bad cause I don’t like going out. Only problem is you wouldn’t be with me. I wouldn’t want you to be there with me, don’t get me wrong, I’d never want you to end up in jail. I-...” I cut him off by pressing my lips to his. A quick kiss that says so much but mainly shows the immeasurable gratitude for his support.

Seeing those awful tweets and comments had the complete opposite effect on him. He no longer blames himself but the people who actually deserve the blame - all those jerks from my college.

I pull away, giving him a small smile. “I would never let you go to jail.” 

He smiles back at me, overjoyed that my mood is slowly being lifted, “Come on, I have a nice crowd that would like to meet you.”

I know exactly what he means. Felix, Sean, Rae, Dave, Sykkuno and the rest of his friends. The people I’ve been so shy and afraid to meet since day one. Being shy doesn’t really make sense now, seeing as how they know I exist and that I’m a part of Corpse’s life. 

What do I have to lose?

“Guys, this is my girlfriend, Y/N.“ Corpse’s black avatar runs around my cyan one in the Among Us lobby.

I can’t help but giggle when I unmute my mic, “Hi everyone! It’s so nice to finally meet you.“ They each introduce themselves, expressing how happy they are to be meeting me too.

It’s the first time in what feels like a while that I’m truly having fun. These people are wonderful, each so unique and lovely. They never brought up the scandal nor acted as though they knew about it. I know they did and I am beyond grateful that they never mentioned it or treated me any differently because of it. Also, Corpse was streaming the whole time. I had my phone on his stream, my eyes nervously scanning the chat every now and then. I couldn’t believe it. Corpse’s real fans were just as wonderful as his friends - they were nothing but supportive and happy to have met me.

Now, I can either choose to believe these people were being so nice to me out of sympathy or I can believe they really like me and appreciate me for who I am and not for what happened to me. 

I choose to believe the latter.

And while I’m still getting accustomed to this whole new spotlight, I know I’ll be able to handle it as long as I’m holding Corpse’s hand in the process. All I need is to have him beside me and I’m prepared to tackle anything.

“They love you.“ Corpse tells me once the stream is done and we’ve hopped out of the Discord call, “But I love you more.“

His arms wrap around my waist while mine instinctively find their way around his neck, “I love them, too. But they’re at the number 2 spot.”

He smirks at me, “I wonder who’s at number 1.”

I push up on my toes, putting my lips an inch away from his, “Hmm, I wonder...”

He doesn’t let me finish, silencing my teasing with a sweet, loving kiss.

@susceptible-but-siriusexual  @simonsbluee  @save-the-sky  @hacker-ghost  @bi-andready-tocry  @imtiredaffff  @jazzkaurtheglorious  @hereforbeebo  @fandomgirl17  @chrysanthykios  @maehemscorpyus  @loraleiix  @letsloveimagines  @annshit  @i-cant-choose-a-username-help  @enigmaticmaze  @divine-artemis  @waterlilypat

[kiridarling]

𝐁𝐎𝐓𝐓𝐎𝐌𝐒 𝐔𝐏!

shouto todoroki | f!reader, ceo heir!shouto, mirror sex, hair pulling, choking, inappropriate use of showerhead, alcohol. minors dni!

— 3k words

"You're so pretty when you make a mess, aren't you?"

Miss Y/N,

I couldn't help but notice the latest project my father assigned is extremely difficult. If I'm going to be completely honest, you'll work yourself to death at this rate, and your greys double by the day. Drinks on me at Club 777 at 7 pm. Sound like a deal?

— shouto todoroki

“A club.”

“Glad you could make it,” Shouto gives you a small smile; it’s anything but hostile. And yet, that’s all yours is as you assume the space to his right in the velvet crescent booth. “I hope it wasn’t too hard to find. Club 777 is pretty popular around he—what are you doing.”

As your fingers fly across the keyboard, you give him an indignant huff, the screen highlighting the underside of your face electric blue as you continue hacking away at your presentation. If you’re going to be forced to go out, you’re going to make the most of it—and that’s by getting the work that you would be getting done at home, at a club. And a rather loud one, at that.

"You're a workaholic," he observes with a sigh, and you flash him a fat sarcastic smile. Stupid fucking CEO heirs and their entitlement.

"Congrats, you've solved everything! Can I go home, now?"

"No," Shouto frowns before he rudely snaps your laptop shut and sets it to his right. Pushing a plate of clear-colored shots your way, your eyes bulge—there have got to be at least fifteen. "Drink up—it'll take the edge off."

You blink between your coworker and the shots. You trust Shouto and you've known each other for a while...somewhat. His father is your boss, and with Shouto as the next in line you’ve got no choice but to play nice. He’s as cocky as he is aloof, but you suppose he’s fine overall—and he's seen you break your back over this project for a solid month and a half. Positive you won't be able to keep your conscious from running laps over all the work you have to do otherwise, you snatch the first shot and chuck it down your gullet with worrying enthusiasm. Shouto lifts an eyebrow and you reach for another.

"Thirsty?" He chuckles, before grabbing a shot for himself. The second shot burns, but never as much as the first, and the back of your hand catches what doesn't make it into your mouth as you say:

"More than you could think."

"And then—and then I was like, um no sir, I think you got my change wrong by at least five bucks! He didn't believe me, like at all."

"Did he make a fuss of it?"

"Of course."

"That means he has a small dick," Shouto advises with the second to last shot in his hand, wrist-watch glinting in the club light. His face is a deeper red than his hair and you've never noticed how nice a suit fits him as if you don't see him in one every day. You giggle at that, too far gone yourself to be offended on the stranger's behalf. Shouto's jacket drapes over your shoulders like an oversized blanket even though you bickered about not being cold, with enough alcohol in your veins to warm a village.

"Probably," you rest your head against the crescent booth, dismissive at the softness from the red velvet that’s probably ruining your hair. "Either way, I pulled a Karen and called the manager on 'em.

Shouto nods, "As you should. Once I tricked my father into thinking he had a very unhappy customer by sending him a million emails from 'John Appleseed' and calling his personal secretary twice as much."

You cackle, throwing yourself across the table at the thought of your Boss’ face hot and red with anger (as it does.) Shouto's loved nothing more than to make his animosity against his father well-known—to you, at least—and to say bored Heir been getting creative the past few months is an understatement. "Oh fuck—when'd you stop calling?"

Shouto shrugs, muscles rolling underneath his white dress shirt, "Once I filled his voicemail box.”

He holds a smile, small and distant, as he watches you wheeze as if he just told the funniest story in the world. In your defense, Shouto's never really been a funny guy, but he does funny things. Like when he stares at you when he doesn’t think you notice, or when he gets so close your chests nearly touch, but doesn't notice it. Doesn't point it out, at least. You find your laugh dying along with the smile on his face, though, and when he says nothing afterward but stare.

"...Shouto?" You snap in his face to make sure he's still in there—but it's hard to tell, with his glazed eyes and scarily steady breathing. His arms find either side of you, and you're too tipsy to realize you've been caged against the booth until it's too late.

"Your eyes are quite mesmerizing, Miss Y/N," he marvels. You can smell the vodka on his breath, and positive that compliment would’ve set your face aflame if the alcohol hadn’t already, any hints of cherry obscured by the neon club lights.

"I—um, thank you," you giggle, and if you were sober, you'd shoot yourself in the foot for reacting like a school girl. But you suppose you can give yourself some leeway—this is Shouto Todoroki after all, and for some reason, he's complimenting you. "You...you aren't too bad yourself."

"You wouldn't mind if I got a little closer, would you?" Though Shouto holds a cheeky half-drunken smile on his own, knowing any closer will result in nothing but a kiss and perhaps a little more. His eyes flicker to your lips the same time yours flicker to his, and you and you catch a heat in his eyes you didn’t notice before.

"Not at all."

You blink and Shouto's lips are on yours. They’re soft, painfully so, and it's clear he knows what he's doing—with his hands dropping to your waist and tilting his head ever-so-slightly to the right. Nudging your lips open, his tongue easily finds it's way around, mapping the insides of your mouth and taking note of what makes you shiver the most.

Shouto tastes like vodka. It's a familiar taste, one that you associate with seven minutes in heaven and quick make-out sessions in high school—and yet this time it spurs your heart to beat faster, your arms wrapping around his neck to pull him in even closer, as if it's possible.

When you pull away it’s clear neither of you really want to, but unfortunately you need to oxygen to live, chest heaving in unison as your eyes catch his own. Shouto's grip tightens around your waist as he licks over his already wet lips, glossed by what you assume is your spit.

“You’re one dangerous woman,” he rasps with swollen lips. You giggle, but you know he knows his words’ effect on you because goosebumps are impossible to hide.

“Thank you,” you respond, a bit awkwardly—because what else are you supposed to say?

"I'm positive it isn't the alcohol talking when I say I want to take you right here." Shouto growls as his eyes hold you in your seat. You shiver, the request sounding impossibly inviting, and your thighs discreetly rub together to take the edge off a bit.

"Bathroom," you breathe against his lips, this night turning for the most unexpected.

"Off, off, get all of this off," Shouto pants the moment you two step into a gender-neutral singles bathroom. You don't doubt they made it gender-neutral for this exact reason, but that thought leaves as quickly as it enters when Shouto pins you against the sink starts to pepper hot kisses down your neck. He scrambles to bunch your dress to your waist over taking it off completely and growls at the sight of your lower-half in absence of your usual attire.

"Do you know how long I've wanted you? Hmm?” He's breathless as he settles between your legs with a lick of his lips, pushing the excess of your dress into your hands. You really don't know how long he’s wanted you, but you find yourself biting your lip at the prospect anyway—that you've been driving your boss's son, your future boss, just as crazy as he's been driving you.

"Shouto—"

"Shhh," he interrupts, pulling your panties to the side. "Let me take care of you. You've been working hard these past few months, no?"

You guess so.

Either way, all clarity dies when Shouto licks a fat stripe up your slit, chuckling when you slide a tentative hand into his hair. Your grip tightens when his lips wrap around your clit and suck, slipping a finger between your folds to elicit a whimper or two. He bites his lip when you tug a little.

"Keep doing that and you just might ruin me," Shouto groans, before his mouth returns and he’s adding another finger. When the digits curl just right, your hips buck in faint frustration—they're moving too slow.

"Can you, um," you blush, eyes skittering to the bathroom walls instead. The club music permeates despite the fact that they look like they're made of solid brick, vibrating the floor and sink underneath you both. "Go faster?"

Shouto's eyes snap to yours. For a second you’re afraid he's going to say no, but he tosses your leg over his shoulder and adjusts your hips until they're at a perfect level, licking his lips and growling:

"My pleasure."

You're positive whoever loiters near the bathroom door hears your yelp as his mouth descends to devour your pussy, eating you so enthusiastically that you see you're slick smeared across his pink cheeks. Shouto pulls your hips deeper into his face with a defiant growl and you have to drop your forearms on the sink to keep yourself from falling to the hard ground, your grip around the porcelain ever-tightening.

"Feel good?" He rubs a heavy thumb over your clit in place of his mouth and stuffs you with a third finger. You nod with a broken moan as he pulls his digits out all the way out before burying them knuckle-deep again, grasp on the sink slipping. He flicks your clit, "Answer me."

"Y-Yeah," you nod again, near-hyperventilating. You’re sure Shouto’s getting a kick out of it—at least, if his chuckle has anything to say about it.

"Good girl," he coos, the circles on your clit slowly quickening, "You're so pretty when you make a mess, aren't you?"

You're nodding along with him, though you're not exactly sure why—but then his mouth returns and suddenly, why doesn't matter as much.

Shouto's more vocal than you expected, groaning into your sweetness as your thighs trembles next to his head. He holds you like you're precious, like you're actually something to him, but you're much too drunk to unpack all of that right now. Instead, you tug at his hair. It pulls a much louder moan from his gut and you find yourself enjoying the vibrations, yanking harder to hear him again.

"W-Wait, Shouto," you whimper out, painfully close as you pull at his hair but this time to pull him away from you, "I wanna—wanna cum on your cock...if that's okay."

Shouto blinks once, twice, and then you're staring at yourself in the mirror listening to him frantically undoing his belt, cursing when the metal slaps him across the palm. You giggle.

"Eager, are we?"

"You don't even know," he pants, and the tip of his cock kissing your entrance has you biting your lip. His eyes meet yours in the mirror and they melt when he fits the head of his cock inside, the grip he has on the porcelain sink turning white as he pushes further.

"You are—you are painfully tight, Miss Y/N," Shouto wheezes into your neck, teeth grit as his pelvis finally brushes against your ass. You resist the urge to wheeze with him, his cock filling you to the point where your lungs struggle to find room to breathe.

"I'll take that as a compliment," you joke, eyes fluttering shut. Shouto tuts, grabbing the underside of your face as he says:

"Eyes open, Miss Y/N. I want you to watch yourself fall apart as I fuck you."

Your eyes peel open, albeit reluctantly as you whine, not understanding why you need to watch your own face when you can enjoy the sight of him instead, "But Shouto, that's embarrassing..."

"Just trust me," he grunts, and his hips are snapping into yours, sending you jolting into the sink to the point where you have to brace a hand on the mirror to keep yourself from being squished flat against the porcelain. Shouto leans over, "You trust me, don't you?"

And well. When he puts it like that...

"Look at yourself, not at me," Shouto says, catching you redhanded. You whine when the hand holding your head moves to your neck and squeezes, cutting off your oxygen supply just enough for your eyelids to drop halfway. "See? See how good you look? So wrecked for me already and we've barely started."

"S-Shut up," you moan more than you say, finding yourself mesmerized in the way your lips part and by the redness of your cheeks. Shouto dips his head into your neck and sucks, prompting your free hand to find his multicolored hair again and pull. His reaction is almost automatic, the way the smooth rock of his hips changes into a quick snap in a heartbeat. It has you keening, his cock reaching places spots you weren't aware you had, and he crushes you against the sink to rub at your clit.

"Fuck, you're so gorgeous for me," he grunts, hips finding the energy to pick up the pace. You whimper and he's sucking a hickey into your neck, hot breaths punctuating along with his sharp thrusts. "Feel so good around my cock, like you were made for me—shit—"

This time you break the rules, eyes flickering to look Shouto in the mirror as you watch him come undone. His hips stutter as he muffles a broken moan in the back of your neck, body shuddering while he fills you up. His thrusts slowly dissolve into nothing and soon it's just your heavy breathing between brick walls, until Shouto pulls out with a hiss.

"You didn't cum."

"O-Oh, um," You blink at his unimpressed gaze through the mirror as if you got caught redhanded. "I...usually can't. Without a vibe.”

Shouto hums at that but says nothing. You watch something in his brain churn, eyes surveying the room before a lightbulb appears above his head and he's snapping his fingers.

"The shower."

"...What?"

"The. Shower." Shouto says, a little cheekier this time, as he guides you towards a simple shower hidden behind a curtain. Now, why there’s a shower in a club bathroom is beyond you.

"Well. This seems awfully convenient," you click. Shouto shrugs.

"Sun (the author) says it's to clean up the drunks who vomit all over themselves." He takes the only shower seat available, back pressing against the tile.” I think she just wants you to ride a showerhead ****if I'm being completely honest."

"Maybe she tried it for the first time recently or something,” you hum absentmindedly, but that thought flies out the window as Shouto grunts:

"Either way, it's irrelevant. Strip."

"I—completely?" You exclaim, covering your body despite the fact that it's already covered by your dress again. Shouto raises an eyebrow, settling both elbows on his knees once grabbing the showerhead from its bar.

"Unless you want your outfit to get soaking wet, yes. Completely."

Touché.

You're naked fairly quickly and Shouto lays you across the tile even quicker. You watch him test the different modes on his hand, before choosing the one with the most...gusto. You spread your thighs and fight the embarrassing blush dusting your cheeks from the exposing position.

"Ready?" You roll your eyes.

"I swear Shouto, if you do—o-oh."

He presses the rushing water to your clit, and you have to take a step back, fully unprepared for how nice the pressure would feel. Shouto chuckles at that, the soles of his loafers soaking in the lukewarm water with you as he sits with his legs spread, brazenly enjoying the view.

"Feels good?"

You nod, hips subtly grinding into the hot stream. Shouto bites his lips at the view and it turns you on that much more to know you can have such an effect, before his free hand drops to his palm himself through his dress pants.

"I get the perfect view, too," Shouto growls to himself, tilting his head ever-so-slightly as you release a broken moan, bare hips stuttering against the tile. "A perfect view of that pretty little pussy. Ah ah, keep those legs for me."

Your inner thighs quiver with an impending orgasm, the edge looking much closer than it did previously. The combination of Shouto's words, his sounds, and the steady beat of the water against your clit is enough to have anyone shaking, and the only complaint you have is that you wish he wasn't so fucking far.

"S-Shouto," you whimper, hands scrambling across the slippery tile. "I'm close."

"Yeah? Do it then, make me proud," Shouto growls with a feral smile, grip tightening around his cock—you nod, chest shuddering.

“Y-Yeah just adjust the—oh fuck, Shou, right there!”

Your thighs clench as you gasp and your fingernails dig into the grout between the tile as you orgasm, your moan nearly bordering on a scream. Shouto groans, grip tight on his cock through his damp suit pants, and you nearly giggle as your high ebbs.

“Have I ever told you how dangerous you are, Y/N?” Shouto says cheekily. You grin back, cocking your head to the right.

“Only a million times.”

“Well then I owe it to you again,” he says lowly, and you get the message you two aren’t done as he joins you on the wet floor to cradle your jaw.

“You’re one dangerous woman, Y/N.”

a/n: i fully expose myself in this, and you know what? i'm fine with that.

click to return to CLUB 777

[chibinekochan]

My Ghostmate - Ft. Leviathan

Levi is a ghost in this story.

Gender-neutral reader insert

Obey me! Monster tales

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

After lending my dream job in a theater my dream to be on the big silver screen is one step closer.

Filled with hopes, dreams, and ambition I make my way to the big city.

I'm super lucky to have found a super cheap apartment.

Of course, it comes with a catch. 

The place is haunted! Well, at least according to the landlord.

I can't say that I believe it's true but even if it is I'm sure I can deal with it.

Especially since the play has me playing a ghost. What could be a better way to prepare for this than some real experience with a ghost?

With excitement, I stand in front of the building.

It's much nicer than I expected. Even though I was hoping for a more haunted look.

I open the door. A musky smell hits me. Dust seems to cover everything. At least the furniture looks in good condition. Even when it screams the sixties.

I put my bags to the side and open all of the windows. 

This helps. All the curtains were pulled closed so opening makes everything bright. 

Sadly, this also shows the dirt that seems to cover every surface.

I take a deep sigh, put on my favorite music, and get to work.

Soon I start to hear something, it's a faint moaning. At first, I ignore it, thinking it's the house. But soon it starts to sound like wailing.

Slightly annoyed, I follow the sound to the attic. I have a broom, ready to find a cat or something like that.

I open the door and my eyes fall on a rather slim build guy in a bathtub.

I'm more than just surprised.

Especially when he doesn't even notice me, his attention solely on the console in his hands.

His wailing is connected to the game. 

Seeing how he seems rather weak, I start to get angry. "Hey, you, what are you doing in my house?!" I yell at him, clinging to the broomstick.

The boy looks at me, his eyes widen and then he vanishes.

I look at the now-empty bathtub. I can't believe my eyes. I go closer to the bathtub and look inside. 

Nothing but a game console and some pillows.

For a moment I wonder if I have gone crazy.

Then suddenly something seems to materialize right in front of me. I stumble backward and soon stare into a pair of shocked eyes.

"You...are a ghost…" I point my finger at the guy. I can't believe my eyes.

The guy seems to be just as surprised as I am. "Gee, you spooked me, and look at that, I died in the game." He moved to the back of the bathtub. As to put as much distance as possible between us.

"I heard some noises and thought an animal was trapped here, but forget about that. Are you a ghost?" Suddenly I feel very excited. When else will I have a chance to meet a real ghost?

"You need to watch out for those sparkling eyes of yours." He moves his arms in front of his face and becomes slightly see-thru. 

"Are you dead?" I don't even pretend to listen to him.

"Going right for the punch I see...not even asking for my name first." He sighs.

I guess in my excitement I came off as slightly rude. "Sorry, what's your name?"

He sighs. "I'm Leviathan but everyone calls me Levi. Not that there is anyone around here to call me anything." 

"Alright Levi, nice to meet you." I decide on a polite approach. I want something from him after all.

"So you are the new tenant?" He looks at me doubtfully. 

"Yeah. So how long are you umm deading here?" I cut straight to the chase with my questions.

"Deading?" Levi looks at me with confusion.

"You can't be living here, since you are dead, so I just invented a new word. Pretty creative, right?" I feel pretty proud of myself.

Levi looks at me stone-faced. "That's not even the slightest bit funny. I feel pretty offended, to be honest."

"You have no sense of humor." I shrug," Anyhow I suppose we are roommates now. Let's get along!" I smile at him, trying to breach the gap.

"It's not like I got a choice. At least you aren't running away screaming." He looks at me with a slightly wary expression.

"So you are bound to the house?" My curiosity wins over in the end.

"Not really. More bound to the bathtub." Levi says this rather quietly.

"Does that mean you died in the bathtub?" I find this very interesting.

Levi hides his face behind his arm. "Don't ask about it." With a whine, he vanishes right in front of my eyes.

He seems to be a tough nut to crack. 

I feel somewhat motivated to find out more about Levi. Mostly due to my role.

For the rest of the day, I see no sign of Levi, so I unpack and clean a bit before falling into my bed.

This place is even more exciting than expected.

[the-last-kenobi]

I know I have already requested a fic based on one of the dialogue prompts, so you don't have to answer to this ask if you don't want to. It's just that I would love another angsty story with Qui-Gon and padawan Obi (the way you portray their father-son relationship just melts my heart and breaks it simultaneously). I don't have a preference for any specific dialogue to be included. You as the writer can choose anything from the prompt list. Whatever you think would suit your story best. Thanks again!

Thank you!! <3 Always happy to get requests from you! Oh, author’s choice. Now I gotta make a decision... hm.

I decided to go with prompt #1!

From this various prompts list.

Requests are currently closed.

-

From the very first moment, Qui-Gon had looked at him and seen Xanatos instead.

From the dueling mats in the Temple, to the rundown transport ship, to the wastes of Bandomeer, Obi-Wan had never really been Obi-Wan to him — just another phantom of his former, cherished apprentice, another reminder of his failings as a teacher.

Obi-Wan knew there had been times when it had been different.

In the mines — his small, trembling fingers sore from slave work pressed against the collar fitted around his throat, his breaths coming shallow but steady as he prepared to press it, to erupt, to shatter himself into billions of fragments just to open a door for Qui-Gon Jinn — there, then, it had been different.

Qui-Gon had seen him, and apologized to him, and praised him.

Offered to be his Master.

Yes, of course, yes.

But despite their bond being sealed and the training begun, after that it felt like two steps forward, five steps back, one step forward, standstill.

Qui-Gon could not seem to comprehend that Obi-Wan was not Xanatos.

He was surprised in his habits, that he hated waking early but enjoyed it once he was up. That he ate light, small meals often throughout the day instead of three large ones, and wouldn’t touch a heaping plateful no matter how hungry he was. That he was tidy in his clothing and writing but usually forgot to make his bed until the end of the day, when he wanted to climb into smooth, tidy sheets instead of a mess.

And he seemed ready, at all times, for Obi-Wan to do something… evil.

Not just wrong, or reckless, or crazy.

But as if he expected his thirteen-year-old Padawan to dramatically drop a facade of innocence like a masked villain dropping his disguise, and prove to the Order that he was capable of incredible harm.

It was worse after Telos.

One might have thought Qui-Gon expected Obi-Wan to announce himself Xanatos’ heir after the older man had flung himself into a pit of acid rather than face justice.

If Xanatos had lurked between them before, he positively pushed them apart after his death.

And then…

And then Tahl died.

And it was Obi-Wan’s fault, his stupid broken bone and his stupid inability to take care of himself or be left alone in a war zone, and she was dead. There would be no more hastily made dinners shared with laughter and teasing and her telling stories from her childhood with Qui-Gon while Qui-Gon cringed and shook his head and looked at her as if she were his favorite star, and no more basking in the light she seemed to share.

And when Qui-Gon looked at Obi-Wan, sometimes it was clear that he could only see the love he had lost, and her lying dead before him.

And wishing it had been Obi-Wan who had died instead.

Obi-Wan could never decide which was worse.

When his Master looked at him and saw Xanatos instead, missing Obi-Wan entirely and both loving and loathing the face he saw instead —

— or when he looked at him and saw him, saw Tahl and the role Obi-Wan had played in her death, and wished to the gods that Obi-Wan had simply never been.

To not be seen at all?

Or to be seen and to be despised?

You look right at me, Obi-Wan wanted to say. You look at me but you’re always seeing someone else.

But Obi-Wan loved his Master. Loved him like a son loves a father, like a good student loves a great teacher, and he could not stop loving him and wanting to be loved in return.

He could not even bring himself to try stopping.

And Qui-Gon, it seemed, could not bring himself to see Obi-Wan differently than he did. Maybe there was simply nothing more to see.

After awhile, Obi-Wan stopped hoping, and simply pushed himself to keep going, regardless of what he received in return. It was enough to be his Master’s Padawan, to have those rare moments of perfect harmony.

He stopped checking to see if his Master was pleased with him. Stopped looking for signs.

Qui-Gon Jinn would never need him, but he needed his teacher, and so he would not complain.

And this state of being went on for years.

And years.

The first thing Obi-Wan registered was the sound of beeping. The whirring of machinery, the quiet hum of droids working nearby.

There was something foreign, uncomfortable and plastic, in his nose and his mouth.

His whole body ached, but at the same time he was so comfortable and so very very tired that it felt as if the bed he was lying on had half swallowed him. He couldn’t so much as lift a finger if he tried.

That’s odd, he thought hazily. I’ve never had a bed try to eat me before.

And that is when he heard it.

Qui-Gon, muffled by a closed door or even two, his voice raised as Obi-Wan had never heard it.

“—you insisted on speaking to me about this right here and now, then the burden is on you! I won’t lower my voice just to appease you, Mace!”

That’s not good, Obi-Wan thought sluggishly. Master is going to get himself in deeper trouble with the Council again, and I can’t help him if a bed eats me.

A pause, and then Qui-Gon shouted, “I don’t give a damn!”

Obi-Wan smiled inwardly. You never do, you rule-flouter.

Another voice rose sharply through the haze, but Obi-Wan could not make it out. Qui-Gon spoke again, anger bleeding into borderline rage. “Look where your priorities got us! I warned you, I told you not to send him in there alone, and did you listen?” The voices drew much nearer as Qui-Gon continued to yell, and he was getting nearer, too.

Obi-Wan frowned. That sounded bad. Who was it that Qui-Gon did not trust to go alone, and what had they done wrong?

“You sent him when I was away and couldn’t do anything to prevent you! You went behind my back! Obi-Wan could have died!” Qui-Gon roared, very close by.

A strange stillness fell, a quiet, like the sudden disorientation after turning off music or a bright screen and blinking in the darkness.

Me.

“He could still die,” said Qui-Gon, much softer, and his voice broke. “My Padawan could die in that bed and you want to talk to me about mission parameters now?”

I went alone somewhere and he did not want me to go. I did something wrong.

“Qui-Gon,” sighed Mace Windu. “No. We just wanted to—”

“I know what you wanted,” snapped Qui-Gon. “I’m not leaving his side, and I’m not discussing anything not related to his health, do you understand?”

A familiar voice that Obi-Wan could not place a name to spoke up just then, mediating. “Peace. Your volume and aggravation are disturbing other patients. Master Jinn, go sit with your apprentice and be still.”

“Thank you, Healer Che,” Qui-Gon murmured.

A door opened. Very close by.

Footsteps approached Obi-Wan where he lay motionless, sunken into the bed and burning with dull physical pain and a much sharper pain called shame.

Qui-Gon sighed somewhere nearby.

And then, to Obi-Wan’s astonishment, he felt warm breath ghosting the top of his head and then a dry-lipped kiss was planted on his forehead, paternal and solemn, a benediction.

“Foolish boy,” Qui-Gon murmured, and the bed shifted as he sat on its edge, one arm coming to curl around Obi-Wan’s shoulders. “Rushing off on perilous solo missions as if I wouldn’t notice.”

Obi-Wan waited, a strange breathless hope inside him, like small child expecting a gift, a silly and wondrous feeling.

“Sometimes I think you don’t know that I love you,” Qui-Gon said. “Go easy on your old Master, Obi-Wan, he’s a very foolish man and you’re going to give me heart problems before my time.”

A sturdy, rough-fingered hand began rubbing absently up and down Obi-Wan’s shoulder.

“You are remarkable, Padawan mine. Don’t forget that.” Qui-Gon’s voice broke again.

With an almighty effort, Obi-Wan struggled within himself, searching for strength. When he found it, he seized upon it, and with all he had he reached out along his decade-old training bond, trying to connect with his Master.

A flash of surprise, recognition, relief, joy.

Qui-Gon actually let out a strangled sob; the arm around Obi-Wan’s shoulders tightened fiercely.

“You’re going to be all right,” he said aloud. “In fact, I expect you’re going to be incredible, one day, my Padawan.”

Obi-Wan could not muster the energy for a smile, but he tried; and perhaps Qui-Gon understood, because the last thing Obi-Wan felt before darkness pulled him back under to the impenetrable sleep of drug-induced relief was the warmth of laughter against the top of his brow, and another paternal kiss.

[foodieforthoughts]

Third Time's The Charm

Summary: Walter sweeps you off your feet with his voice, making you both give your romance a third chance.

Pairing: Walter x Reader

Warning: lots and lots of feelings

A/N: This piece includes the song "In case you didn't know by Brett Young". Can you imagine Walter singing? Ugh. Puppy. 🥺

Title: Third Time's The Charm

It was a look of utter disbelief and shock that Walter had all over his face when your friends had extended an invitation to join your group for karaoke night. A bunch of your friends from the station were going to sing the night off at a regular watering hole and they wanted the Detective to join too.

You had awkwardly stood behind the group with your hands in your pocket, unsure of what you were supposed to feel. Things had turned platonic between the two of you after a failed second date. Your sour mood after losing a lead on your case and Walter's ever present love-hate relationship with his ex-wife was a disaster waiting to happen; escalating your budding romance to a halt on that faithful date night.

But your feelings for the grumpy cop never died and your were ninety-nine percent sure he felt something for you too. Although you had never voiced your displeasure, it had hurt you immensely when Walter started dating Rachel. You hated to admit it, but when things went south for the two of them, you had been delighted with a renewed hope of reconciling things with Walter. It was a lack of courage on your part and probably Walter's sheltered persona that had you both only exchanging fleeting glances throughout your days at the station.

After getting coaxed by others to join for a fun night out, Walter had agreed, much to your silent joy. Men being men had huddled together on an adjacent table for majority of the night, leaving you glancing towards Walter more frequently than it was acceptable for friends. Your heart fluttered everytime he caught you looking, sweeping your entire body with tingling warmth. After a series of drinks and everybody getting tipsier by the minute, someone challenged Walter for a song.

"No." He had blatantly refused only for everyone to protest.

"Come on! Don't be a sour puss!" His best friend had exclaimed. You meet his gaze at the same time as he had looked at you. You could see the corner of his mouth twitching to form a smile, the tip of his nose a faint pink and his cheeks flushed from the drinks. He ran a hand through his curls with a sigh, making you wonder if they would feel as soft as they looked against your skin. You had felt a glowing heat spreading to your cheeks as soon as the thought crossed your mind.

A series of hoots and applauses resounded in the bar when he stood up. Walter pulled the lapel of his jacket close, chugging the remnants of his beer before going up to the small stage with a microphone and a computer to select the song. You had no idea if Walter could even sing. It was difficult to make the stubborn man open up; his quirks urging you to fall for him even more and explore his deep seated thoughts.

When the slow strumming of the guitar emitted through the speakers, your group fell silent. The stage was illuminated with soft blue lights above it, fixed to cast a gentle glow on anyone singing. Walter looked angelic despite being build like a strong wall.

You thought you were ready to hear Walter sing, but when his lips parted and the lyrics poured out of his mouth in a string of mellifluous words, your heart skipped a beat.

I can't count the times

I almost said what's on my mind

But I didn't

Walter wasn't looking at you, but it felt like he was speaking directly to you. You felt your heart thump as he continued singing. The reason for him selecting a song that spoke about wanting to tell the person they love but being unable to do so, felt more like a choice than a coincidence. And the way he could sing the song without even looking at the lyrics on the screen, meant he knew this song by heart.

As the song progressed your friends who were recently married, stood up and started slow dancing to the tune. You swayed from side to side with your friend throwing her arm around your shoulder, glancing at Walter who had a rare smile on his face as he sang.

The way you look tonight

That second glass of wine

That did it

Walter looked up to peer at you, stealing your breath and piercing your soul with his glimmering blue orbs. He looked away though when a few other patrons in the bar stood up to cheer Walter on, raising his hand to wave at them. Being a place that the police department frequented, the regular customers must have recognised Walter almost immediately which explained the applause from them.

You've got all of me

I belong to you

Yeah, you're my everything

The way he could hit the notes, it was apparent that Walter could sing, or had been singing all his life. When he sang the bridge of the song, the intensity radiating off his emotions was undeniably transparent. He had one hand on the mic, the other holding the stand with his eyes closed. His foot tapped to the tempo picking up the pace, in sync with your own heart beats.

In case you didn't know

I'm crazy bout you

I would be lying if I said

That I could live this life without you

Even though I don't tell you all the time

You had my heart a long long time ago

In case you didn't know

You couldn't help but silently gasp when he opened his eyes, cerulean beauty digging into yours as he crooned the words. It didn't seem like it was possible, but you could swear that for a moment everyone and everything had just faded away. It was only Walter and you in that room, in that blissful split second, with the symphony of the song playing in the background as he declared his love to you.

The thunderous claps and the accompanying whistles pulled you back to reality as Walter strutted his way back to the tables. The guys patted his back with the ladies complimenting him while you could only smile along.

Walter and you were the last one's to leave, standing on the side of the curb as you bid your friends goodbye. You could hear your heart drumming in your ears with cold shivers running down your back with the wind and your nervousness. Taking a deep breath, you turned slightly to look at Walter who stood towering next to you.

"Hey-"

"I-"

You both spoke at the same time, chuckling awkwardly at the blunder. Walter nodded for you to speak, adjusting his beanie over his curls and pocketing his hands to shield against the wind.

"I didn't know you could sing so well." You rubbed your hands together from the cold but mostly due to the anxiousness.

"Thank you." He flashed a genuine smile before falling silent again. But his eyes bore into yours with an expectancy, finally making you muster up enough courage to speak.

"I know we ended things...in an unpleasant way. But, if you don't mind, I would like to try again." You gulped to wet your throat that had gone dry with anticipation.

Walter smiled at you, taking a step forward until he was right in front of you. Bringing his finger under your chin, he tilted your face up and bent down to capture your lips for a kiss. Your eyes widened at the unexpected, but welcomed, contact. Melting at the fervid passion of his kiss, you moulded against his body and wrapped your arms around his waist.

Walter rested his forehead against yours when your lips parted. His gloved hand felt hot against your cheek with his thumb caressing your skin as he caught his breath. You didn't want to let go for it felt like the thirst for Walter's affection had only grown by ten folds after that kiss.

"Walter," You whispered, resting your head against his chest as he stood up straight, "I take that as a yes. Third time's the charm, right?"

Walter chuckled, the deep rumble in his chest echoing through to your ears. He engulfed you tighter in his arms, pulling the hood of your jacket over your head as the wind howled.

"So I've heard." He said before kissing your forehead and raising his hand to hail a cab.

[sarahhvitfeldt]

“Better now.” Charlie Gillespie

A/N: Contains materiel not suitably for a younger audience, do not read if it could make you uncomfortable. 

She couldn’t decide what was worst; being away from him and only seeing him on a screen or being with him while he was at work. She had been away from him for so long while he had been working on his new project, that she barely remembered what he felt like. They had talked almost everyday sure, but she craved him in different ways so as soon as she got the chance to get some time off she had flown off to Vancouver to be with him, what he had forgotten to tell her, probably because he missed her too, was that it was a completely packed week, shoots from dusk till dawn, multiple scenes to run and especially the music scenes felt like having your teeth pulled. She didn’t complain though, she knew how much it meant to him to have landed the role. So she sat patiently in his chair while he did what he did best. However it had been awhile and she felt her mind wander. He’d gotten broader in his time away from her and she couldn’t help but thank the costume department for their choice of clothes. She watched as he played a few chords in between takes, noticing just how perfect his fingers moved up and down the neck of the guitar, the rings being a new habit, one that she hoped he would adopt from his character. And although she missed his long hair she couldn’t help but bite her lip at the thought of running her hands through the new, shorter cut. 

“If it means that you’ll stop drooling I’ll sleep over at Jer’s place tonight and let you guys have some alone time.” She was ripped back to the present like a rubber band being released. She was ready to shoot back that she was in fact not drooling when she noticed how her fingers had been playing with her lip and she sighed in defeat. 

“Sorry Owen.” The blond laughed as he sat down next to her. 

“No worries, I get it, you haven’t seen each other in months and then you fly all the way over here and the dork forgot to tell you how busy of a week it was going to be. Can’t be easy.” She let out a huffed laugh, her bottom lip slowly disappearing between her teeth as her eyes wandered back to where they left off. 

“He’s just so tired when we get home, I feel like I would be selfish to ask for it. Oh god I’m sorry it’s not like you wanna hear about that.” She rubbed her face, trying to tame her mind. Beside her Owen laughed. 

“Nothing I haven’t heard from Charlie himself, so don’t worry about it. But seriously, make a move, you’d be doing everyone a favor.” He gave her a wink and went back to the others, ready for more work. 

The car was unusually quiet on the way home, Charlie’s head resting against the window, one hand tracing small circles on her thigh, unbeknownst to him driving her more and more crazy. She let out a small sigh when they could finally get out of the car and he unlocked the door to his and Owen’s apartment. 

“I’m gonna go rinse off real quick, okay?” he kissed her cheek as he disappeared leaving her alone. A small ding from her phone distracted her thoughts for a moment. 

Borrowing the couch at Jer’s place tonight, have fun! 

She rolled her eyes at Owen’s text, lowkey appreciating her friend’s attempt to give them the opportunity for some time together. Just a few minutes later, she heard the water turn off. Biting her lip she decided to take his advice, she needed to blow off some steam and at the same time she needed to be close to Charlie. 

Walking towards the bathroom she quickly pulled off the hoodie of his that she borrowed that morning. Opening the door slowly she took a deep breath at the sight. Walking in she stripped out of the rest of her clothes and opened the door to the shower, scaring the poor guy. 

“Y/N, wha-” whatever he was about to say died in his throat, instead he swallowed as she took his hand and led him out, careful not to rush him as he was still wet. A small smile played on his lips and she melted at the sight. 

“Is this why Owen’s not sleeping at home tonight? Did the two of you plan this?” He asked, his voice low and his hands placed softly on her hips. She laughed softly as her hands went to his damp hair. 

“He uh,” she allowed herself to take him in for a moment, “got tired of me drooling over you on set.” She shrugged and he laughed loudly. 

“You’re always drooling over me.” He shot back with a wink, but his playful demeaner disappeared the longer they stood, the heat from her body heating up his. He leaned down and planted a sweet kiss on her lips, her hands grabbing his biceps for support. 

“Charlie,” she moaned out as his lips moved down to her neck and jaw. 

“Bedroom, I know, give me a minute.” He continued kissing her neck, one hand traveling further down to her thigh, and suddenly he picked her up, carrying her to the bedroom. As her body finally landed on the soft mattress beneath she let out a soft sigh. Watching him kiss up her legs, her thighs, her stomach, chest, she threw her head back in pure happiness. When his lips reached hers he kissed her softly. 

“How you doin?” He winked causing her to laugh. 

“Better now.” She winked back. 

[turtle-steverogers]

Part two of my series Enchanted by You is out!

Driving in New York City is a fucking nightmare.

Really, Bucky likes to avoid it if he can, much preferring to take the subway, or even walk to where he needs to be. But there are times when he can see the appeal to conceding. Like now, as he waits outside of the Henry Kaufman Building on NYU’s obscenely extensive campus.

It’s approaching finals week as December rears its head, bringing with it bitter-cold city weather, holiday cheer, and excess stress on college students across the country. And Steve isn’t exempt from that stress, so Bucky decided to pick him up for the weekend. Show him some relief. Give him a chance to take his hands off the wheel. He remembers how it was being a student, and god dammit if Steve doesn’t deserve some time to just feel good.

They’ve spent the night together before, but this is the first time Steve will be staying with him for any extended period of time. It’s thrilling; it feels like a next step. Though no steps have truly been discussed between them beyond the frankly obscene sex they’ve been having for the last month, so Bucky carefully sets that thought aside and puts his car in park. It’s 7:45-- Steve should be out soon.

Turning the radio on, Bucky scowls a bit at the gaudy Christmas music warbling out of the local station. He fiddles around until he finds the classic rock-- always a safe choice-- then pulls out his phone. There’s a text on his screen from Steve telling him he’s heading out, and Bucky sends a thumbs up back before switching to his email app to check while he waits. Hill sent him an email about a client booking monday, and there’s some information on upcoming holiday shoots, but nothing outside the normal cadence of things. Good. Predictable is just how Bucky likes his work.

There’s a knock on the passenger side window a few minutes later, and Bucky looks over to see Steve standing outside the car, a shy smile on his face. His sketchbook is tucked under one arm, and there’s paint smudged on his nose. Bucky wonders idly if he even knows it’s there; he hadn’t been kidding when he’d said he was a painter that first day at the shoot, but Bucky had been thrown for a proper loop when he’d found out Steve went to fucking NYU.

I’m there on a scholarship, Steve had said, cheeks aflame as he ducked his head down onto Bucky’s bare chest. Last thing my ma saw me get before she died. And christ, this kid is going to be the goddamn death of Bucky. Talented and sweet and secretive in equal measure-- surrounded by a shell Bucky is desperate to continue to crack.

Bucky unlocks the door and gestures for Steve to load his things in the back.

“Hey, how was class?” he asks as Steve tosses his backpack and overnight bag in the backseat.

Steve shuts the door and climbs in the front, buckling in.

“Pretty good. Doctor Morrison approved my proposal for the final.”

“Oh yeah?” Bucky eases them away from the curb and into traffic. It’s a thirty minute drive to Park Slope where Bucky’s apartment is; may as well settle in for the ride. “Is that the mock gallery submission you were talking about?”

“Yeah, we have to produce five related multimedia works. I’m trying to do a focus on how loss and grief and identity all intersect,” Steve says.

Loss is a more common theme in Steve’s life than Bucky could have fathomed, but he seems to cope through art-- self expression in its rawest form, and it’s admirable to see. Bucky is proud, he realizes.

“And your professor approved that?” Bucky reiterates.

“Yup.”

Bucky reaches over to squeeze Steve’s thigh. Steve squirms a little, and puts his hand over Bucky’s, interlacing their fingers. These little affections threaten to drive Bucky crazy. Fuck, he really needs to talk to Steve about this.

“I bet it’s gonna be awesome,” Bucky says, grinning as he navigates them towards Brooklyn with one hand. “Real profound.”

Steve snorted. “I don’t know about that,” he mumbled, and Bucky rolled his eyes.

“Nuh-uh, sweetheart. You don’t get to be humble about this anymore,” he says, giving Steve’s thigh a little warning tap. “Now that I’ve seen what you can do, there ain’t no downplaying allowed anymore, you got it?”

He flashes Steve a grin to let him know he’s joking, and takes in Steve’s face-- cheeks stained with a blush. Eyes downcast, and lips quirked up into a pleased smile he’s trying not to let spread. And Bucky may not be an artist like he is, but he thinks Steve might be more stunning than any still life out there.

You can read the rest here

[januaryisnotanartist]

So, funny you mention this.

In the more Sci-fi side of the AU’s in my brain I actually have the literal crackiest sci-fi AU, which is actually an actor AU. (like, it could work as a straight up space AU, but the way it happened in my head, it was as the actor AU) I know it’s not really related but I’mma tell you all anyway.

(Don’t worry, I won’t also drop the “bullshit science” Jiaoren concept... today...)

-

Liu Sang is the sound guy/general behind the scenes stuff idk, for a pretty popular star trek type show, which stars the Iron triangle in the main roles.

The show they play is basically Lost Tomb, but, you know, In Space. They go around finding lost colonies and civilizations and *ahem* preserving the antiquities as best as they can despite the cults and alarming amount of defunct tech that tries to kill Wu Xie’s character every time.

The show itself has a surprisingly heavy ad-lib script, (like, there’s a proper script, but the actors are allowed and encouraged to adjust the lines and stuff on the fly based on their understanding of their own characters) so set technicians hang out in ‘uniform’ in case they need to fix something on set, they can just ~blend~ with the background extras.

During one take of a bridge scene in which Wu Xie’s character (the captain of the space ship) is supposed to be doing a thing on the computer, he hits the wrong button because the programs used for the ship’s systems has been updated and Wu Xie didn’t read the memo and now the prop screen is beeping incessantly.

Sound/tech guy Liu Sang, who normally hangs out as a comm. tech extra (communication technician, like Uhura and Hoshi sato) during bridge scenes, slides over and turns off the annoying beeping, gives Wu Xie the bitchiest of faces, and says “and this is why we read about the system updates when the ship receives upgrades.” Then shows Wu Xie how to use the new user interface for the scene he’s supposed to be filming.

No one breaks character.

The cameras don’t stop rolling, and what should have been a blooper becomes the actual scene, and Liu Sang’s accidental cameo comm. tech becomes a surprise fan favourite.

So Liu Sang, despite not being an actor, keeps getting cameos, and then he winds up being actually involved in plot lines.

And then finally, his character (referred to only as “Jinx” because of Liu Sang’s on set nickname which Pangzi used during the first cameo) dies in an explosion saving the rest of the crew.

end of season.

the fans go livid.

Then they begin the conspiracies, or maybe the conspiracies had already started by then, because comm. tech Jinx wasn’t actually Liu Sang’s first cameo on the show.

He’d previously played space assassin Wang Can, a minor character during a cult arc, and he’d also played a hacker friend of a friend of Xiazi’s known only as Geist, since the character had a small scene but the actual actor had dropped out last minute and they didn’t have time for a recast for what was essentially a blurry profile shot in front of a computer.

All three characters had been played at different stages of Liu Sang’s hair journey, but speculation abounds on how the three might be related.

There are, of course those who think the trio are unrelated and just happened to be played by the same actor.

The cast and writers of the show listen to the fans and in the end it comes down to Liu Sang’s choice, since he was the one who’d asked to kill off Jinx because he’d failed to realise how much the audience loved his accidental character, and he’d wanted to go back to his normal job.

Liu Sang relents, and they come up with a way to bring him back. They listen to the fan theories, and craft their response, pulling on lore that they’d only skimmed in the show.

A few episodes into the next season, fans are outraged at the lack of mourning for Jinx, but there’s fans who pull apart a few strange turns of phrase from the main crew.

Then several episodes in, it happens.

The ship takes a detour to pick up the ‘new’ comm. tech to fill Jinx’s role.

*unknown planet - system (the one Wu Xie just had the ship set a course to)*

In front of a computer monitor, a familiar silhouette resolves into Geist, (aka, Liu Sang with the floppy black hair (from the time he fought a haunted paint can)) as a notice pops up on his screen:

J-1-NX : Restoration 100%

Geist wanders down through a series of hallways until he comes to a room in which is a large pod/tub like structure. Geist calls out “gege, are you awake now?”, and the top of the pod opens to reveal a pool of funky coloured liquid from which our regularly scheduled Liu Sang Jinx emerges.  wet and naked

Over the next few episodes Jinx’s backstory and connection to both Geist and Wang Can are revealed: They’re members of a clone army that were made for a war centuries ago, equipped with neural downloading so the folks in charge didn’t have to retrain a new replacement every time one was killed (think Cylons from the Galactica reboot) and so secret, hard earned information wasn’t lost. But most batches never saw the field because the war finished before they were needed, and they were put into long term storage.

And then they were forgotten.

And then a few systems malfunctioned and several (dozen?) clones were released from stasis.

Wang Can is back in perma-stasis after going crazy and joining a galactic death cult, but Jinx, Geist (G-31-ST) and several other clones (not all of the same physical model) are running around the galaxy.

J Series were espionage units, designed to have heightened hearing and linguistic comprehension.  1 is actually 001, first of his batch, NX, which were the first batch capable of doing what they were designed to do, with out suffering overstimulation/audio overload every ten minutes.

G series were designed to be good with computer programming. (hackers.)

Wang Can is from a front line series, one with a habit of going homicidal even without repeatedly dying.

[liesoverthec]

Hi B! Hope you're doing great! Do you have a theory why Eddie didn't tell Buck about the will sooner? Do you think he was waiting for "the right moment"?

Personally, I think, he was scared to put to much pressure on him. But then Buck said the things he said in the hospital and Eddie was like "you know what, I gotta put a stop to this".

Much love xx

Hi Sam! 💛 I'm going through a couple of major life changes right now which are just, eating up all of my time and none of it is bad, but it’s why I’m so late getting back to you on this (although pls do not let it stop you from coming in my inbox! I love chatting w you and anyone else I just might have really slow response times for a couple weeks!) how are you???

Okay so I tend to start coming at this from a set/details/cast point of view and my thoughts on it are - Eddie is just. SO MUCH FUCKING SOFTER in s4 around Buck. Like he's always been heart eyes McGee, but the depth and the level of love he has for Buck is just astoundingly deeper. I could pull so many receipts on myself where around 4x04 I’m just?? baffled at how much softer Eddie is and I have no idea why (JOKES ON ME, P SURE IT WAS THIS). So I think the writing room told R.G. that something was going on with Eddie. I don't think the reason Eddie held off was bc the writers themselves didn't know. I'm not entirely sure if they knew it was a WILL that changed things, but I think they made an active choice to change Eddie's actions towards Buck to be more romantic, and softer, bc they knew Eddie was going to hold onto something big with Buck, which culminated in the guardianship-in-case-of-tragedy reveal end of s4, when they thought it would fit best for BOTH Eddie and Buck.

And then emotionally, I DO agree with you on that Eddie didn't want to put that pressure on Buck. I think it started bc basically as soon as Eddie has a chance to decide he’s going to do this legal mumbo jumbo guardianship change, Buck starts freaking out about Red. And Eddie, I think, was simultaneously like, ‘okay I know Buck CAN turn this down but he won’t, and he’s dealing w a lot right now so I’m not going to add this on’ and also ‘I’m going to wait to tell him til it’s final, so that he knows I’m not going to back out of this, it’s a done deal’, and probably also ‘I’ve never been this emotionally intimate with another person literally in my entire life, I have to give myself a chance to build up to it’.

And then before it’s done, they meet Abby again. And Eddie is NOT the sort of person to be explicitly personal at work - he’ll talk around his personal issues, eg talking to Brian during Jinx, but he doesn’t really come right out and pull a Chim or Buck and tell people all about his life. So he’s not about to open up in front of SAM of all people and tell Buck why he can’t risk his life recklessly like that.

But then after that, Buck settles into this period where he actually ISN’T being risky. He explicitly tells Bobby he’s okay now, and it’s absolutely reasonable of Eddie to assume he got closure and he wasn’t looking for validation through danger any more. Hell, Buck even gets a therapist! (Which side note - we never see Buck tell ANYONE Dr Copeland’s name, not even Chim and Maddie when he talks about it, but Eddie knows it in 4x04! So I like to think that while they were quarantining together, Buck told Eddie he was going to see a therapist, and that’s why EDDIE never teases him about his “lady friend” on screen okay side rant done lolllllllllll) So I think at this point, to Eddie, it’s awkward to say anything NOW it’s been so long, and besides he himself isn’t going die anytime soon it’s not a big deal right? (WRONG EDMUNDO).

And of course, Buck does risk his life in Buck Begins/factory fire, but it was really only dangerous bc HE didn’t know where he was, and he couldn’t get them out. It wasn’t as scary I think, to the rest of the 118, bc they could go get him - they had time to do that, so I don’t think Eddie really thought of that as Buck risking his life so like, he can keep this to himself still right? (Um sure I guess but like - EDDIE MY MAN!!!)

And then after that Buck still isn’t risking his life, and nothing crazy has been happening w the 118 - I think if the bomber had been the s4 plot, then I think Eddie would have told him earlier, bc Eddie would have KNOWN that someone was killing people at random in the city, but no one had any idea the sniper was a thing, so Eddie just kept going, keeping it a secret.

Because at this point, I think Eddie has at least a small inkling of his feelings for Buck. Giving your best friend your KID is a really big deal, and I’ve seen several posts talking about the fact that it’s basically a love confession. For anyone else sure it might just be a matter of paperwork, but for EDDIE - that was him giving his heart to Buck. And I think he just wasn’t ready to have that conversation with anyone, esp given the fact that he has the safety net of KNOWING Buck won’t give Christopher up. If Eddie died, and Buck found out that way, it would be awful for Buck - but it wouldn’t be something that could make Buck give Christopher up, so Eddie *technically* didn’t even have to tell Buck.

So TLDR - I think it started as Eddie not wanting to pressure Buck before it was official, ESP since he was panicking about his place in his family’s lives. But then I think it changed into ‘well he’s being safe, I’m not in danger, oh shit this is a Big Deal™ actually, I’ll tell him when I’m ready’ and the sniper ending up forcing Eddie to be ready - both bc Eddie almost died AND bc Buck was acting stupid again.)

Sorry if that was like, 10x more word vomit than you wanted - I just think this show is fantastic at giving characters complex emotional journeys and reasonings without having to be explicit about it, and I can’t just sum that in one paragraph I guess 😂

Lots of love to you Sam!!!!

🐝🐝🐝🐝🐝