#if this flops after how much i struggled with it i'm going to set myself on fire

[morgandoesstuffsig]

" VACATION. " a south park x reader

SNOW IN THE SUMMER?! || I - past : next

        Hissing at the sudden cold air nipping at any exposed skin you had out, you lugged your suitcase into your temporary house as the taxi sped off. You were grateful though, it smelled like nothing more than cigarettes, smoke, and piss.

        'Temporary, temporary house.' You reminded yourself.

        You dug through your pockets before finally fumbling with a key, unlocking the front door and entering, greeted by a warm wave of air which made you feel as if you were slowly but surely thawing. You shut the door behind you and looked around the room which you entered, it seemed to be the living room as it had a really large TV infront of a large, black sofa with a coffee table infront of it. You spotted the kitchen around the corner and then saw stairs on the other side. You sighed and started to lug your rolling suitcase behind you as you struggled to get it up each of the steps.

        'How much shit did they pack?! God fucking damn, I know I'll be here for over a month, but I could always buy myself some new shit?!' You thought to yourself as the suitcase finally got to the top with you, and you started down a hallway. You spotted, in this order, one bathroom, two bedrooms, and an empty office room. You went inside the first bedroom which was bigger and had a king-sized bed. You dropped the luggage, your eyes deciding to move around the room and scan for anything out of place or anything that you didn't like.

        After concluding the room was good, you sighed and knelt next to the suitcase and started to work on putting all your clothes and anything else that was shoved packed away in this poor, overflowing suitcase, courtesy of BOTH your parents...

|| TWO HOURS LATER ||

        Sighing as you flopped backwards onto your extremely comfortable bed. You had finally finished your clothes, bathroom supplies, and a couple of decorations. Your room was still pretty bland, but you'd get to that later! You had other things to worry about, like-

        || DING DONG, SOMEONE'S HERE! ||

        ...like who's ringing the doorbell... you swore that nobody had saw you go inside! What stalkers... You huffed internally before making yourself get up and out of bed, down the stairs, and to the front door.

        Unlocking it and opening it, you were met with a shorter girl wearing a cute little pink beret. She had long black hair, really dark brown eyes, and she had a light skin color, presumably white. She wore a pink sweater with darker, purple-ish lining and buttons. She also wore yellow pants, which is something you'd never thought you'd see, but even more so something you'd never see someone pulling it off so well. She also wore black shoes.

        '...I take that back, she's really fucking pretty.. I don't mind her stalking me.'

        "Hi there! Couldn't help but see you step out of your taxi a few hours ago, I wanted to say hi but I had something really important to do! I wanted to check in and see if you needed any help getting set up, and if not, wanted to at least introduce myself!" She exclaimed, lending a hand out to you for a handshake. You took it and she gave it a firm shake, smiling.

        She continued, "My name is Wendy! Wendy Testaburger! May I ask for yours?"

        "[Y/N] Niaki." You stated blankly as you returned the handshake before bringing your hand to rest into your pocket. She beamed up at you before her phone let out a small, 'ding!' and she went to check it. You stood there quietly as she went over something and gasped a little before looking back up at you with slightly widened eyes.

        "Sorry [Y/N], I've got to go do something right now! See ya around!" She said quickly before waving and swiftly turning on her heel and rushing off, her pace fast as she stuffed her phone into her pocket. You just waved back before closing the door again and plopping onto the sofa.

        '...I'm going to get roped into something and I'm not really gonna like it, I can already tell.'

|| SECRETS FROM THE AUTHOR ||

1. oopsies, foreshadowing

2. rushed this one oopsies

3. i lub wendy mwah mwah

4. my gayass will most likely make the girls fall in love first cuz... im gay.. lmao... oops..?

5. but dont worry your cute little head off, youre going to see some cute boys soon!~

|| SWEET DREAMS, DARLING. ||

[my-soupy-brain]

i love your ted x reader fics so much!! would love to see you write one where the reader has been doing therapy for years and encourages ted to do the same but this is like early s2 when he doesn’t trust therapy. so he says no and it gets angsty because reader feels like if ted doesn’t respect her doing therapy then they can’t be happy together. but then he apologizes to her after a few sessions with dr sharon 🥺

Oh I love this. I really do. I love a little angst and I definitely love a making-up story. Also: Therapy is great, and everyone should be assigned a therapist at birth, lol. Let's gooo!

---

Relationship: Ted Lasso x reader

Warnings: Therapy, mental illness, angst

---

When you started dating Ted, you were already well-versed in therapy. For the last three years, you'd been seeing a therapist to manage your anxiety and depression.

You noticed little things about Ted that...well, worried you. Worried you because you cared. Worried you because with the right help, he might get better.

His happy-go-lucky attitude cracked at the seams some days. You could see the anxiety set into his eyes after he got off the phone with Henry.

Some days, when he slept over, he had a hard time getting out of bed. He chalked it up to the gray skies making him blue, but you knew it was deeper.

You walked up to Ted's door after your most recent session, smiling, a notebook full of things to think about and work on over the next week.

"Hey sweetpea," Ted said, a solemn look on his face as he opened the door.

"Hey, honey, are you OK?" you asked pensively. Ted nodded and gave a half smile.

"I'm fine, honeybunch."

Inside, you noticed his apartment was in disarray. Dishes aren't done. There are clothes laundered but not put away. The bed is a mess. The living room is scattered with papers and blankets.

As Ted makes his way back to the couch, you take in his appearance. His hair is flopped over his forehead, he's wearing a wrinkled t-shirt and equally wrinkled joggers.

"Babe?" you ask gently. He looks at you and smiles.

"What's going on?"

He just shook his head at you. "Nothin'. Just not feelin' myself. I'll be OK."

Ted always said this because he only knew how to say this.

You make your way around the apartment, doing some dishes by hand, folding up blankets.

"You don't gotta do all that," Ted said from the couch.

"It's OK. I don't mind. I know you're struggling, I'm happy to help."

"I'm not struggling!" Ted shouted. His voice raised, bellowing in your ears. You turned around briskly, your eyes wide.

"I know you're into all this therapy mumbo jumbo, but you don't gotta push that crap on me," he adds, his eyes narrowed in anger.

"Ted..."

Your breath hitches at his attitude. He's never talked like this to you. He has every right to express himself, but this... isn't deserved.

"And don't try to talk me into it. You're always trying to tell me what to do, that I should get help," he says, crossing his arms. "I got help in Kansas and a lotta good that did. My wife left me!"

You move to sit on the couch, tears in your eyes.

"Ted... I don't mean to upset you by asking you to get help. But..."

He turns his head quickly.

"But what? You wanna lecture me about it again?"

Your eyes burst into tears. There's not getting through to him. He's angry, you're making it worse. As you stand to leave, you sniffle.

That softens him immediately. He looks at your face again -- finally -- and sees the tears. The tears he caused.

"Listen, I'm...sorry..."

You put your hand up.

"No, Ted. Y'know, therapy has saved my life. From some real dark thoughts and dark times. I don't appreciate you minimalizing it because you had a bad experience..."

You feel bolder, though what you're about to say breaks your heart.

"I don't think we should be together."

His eyes change from neutrality to shock.

"At least until you get help. And if you do, call me. But I can't stand to watch you go through this and not admit you need help."

With that, you close the door behind you and make your way to your flat.

...

Ted's stunned. On his couch, looking at the places where you've tidied. He sees you left your scarf behind and he rolls it between his fingers.

"Goddamn dummy," he mumbles to himself. "Lost the best thing you've ever had."

He goes to the kitchen, grabs a tumbler, and pours some whiskey, but stops himself.

What is he doing?

What is the goal here?

Is he just going to wallow about his divorce for the rest of his life? Live with these panic attacks? Put on a happy face and suffer underneath?

He pulls out his phone and finds Doc Sharon's number.

Though she's new to the club, she's already made a noticeable difference to the people who've seen her. He tried one day but ran out before he uttered a word.

What was he so afraid of?

Failing again. He's afraid of failing again.

Even with Michelle, he did everything the marriage counselor suggested, and she still left.

He remembers what Beard said the other night at the pub. "All people are different people."

Y/N wasn't Michelle.

Doc Sharon wasn't the counselor from Kansas.

He hits the call button.

...

After his first session, Ted felt...lighter. But lonely. Losing y/n when they were just getting started, when they were expanding their friendship into a blossoming romance...

He vowed to get you back.

In his second session with Doc Sharon, Ted realized that his fear of abandonment traces back to childhood. And rather than let people abandon him, he just never lets them in.

Bingo.

"It sounds like Y/N is understanding," Doc Sharon had said. "It sounds like they're looking out for you. And you're pushing that away. Why?"

Ted wasn't sure. "I just didn't trust that this was the thing for me, I guess," he says, his eyes casting down on the brown office carpet. "I'd rather not untangle my noodle and see all the ugly stuff in there."

Doc Sharon slipped in a small smile.

"Ted, the way I see it: We can't clean it up if we don't look inside."

Ted nods and agrees.

...

You've been waiting for him to call. Waiting.

He texted you a couple times, offering his apology. You know he was sincere. Your heart ached, and so did his. But you asked him to give you space.

And then he sent you a text you hoped to see, but didn't expect.

Ted: I started goin' to therapy with Doc Sharon. I can see why you do this.

You smile. Finally. Finally, Ted is putting himself first.

You: I'm so glad to hear that, Ted. I'm glad it's helping.

Ted: I'm realizing why I pushed you away, and it wasn't fair. And my heart hurts without you, darlin'. I really can't stand this.

You: I miss you, too. I just want you to be well, Ted. I want you to work on yourself and stop ignoring your needs.

Ted: I know. I know that now. And it's thanks to you.

You let a few minutes go by and your phone vibrates. Ted's on the line.

"Hey there, sugar. I know things have been tough, and this is awkward as heck, but... do you wanna come over? Watch a movie?"

You smile hard, tears springing to your eyes. Oh, how you've missed him.

"I'd love to, Ted. Are you sure though? I don't want to get in your way."

On the other line, Ted furrows his brow. The fact you worried you were in the way at all is just more of a sign of how he needs to balance his feelings. Blowing up at you? He never wants to do that again.

"You won't be. If anything, my life is empty without you. It's got a Y/N -sized hole in it. So does my couch."

You chuckle.

"I'll be right over."

...

Once you're at Ted's door, you take a deep breath and knock. He answers it with a smile. A genuine one. His hair is more styled, but he's still comfortable in a polo and jeans.

"Hey there, sweetheart," he says softly. "C'mon in. I've got dinner waitin' and a movie fired up."

You enter his apartment and it's tidy.

Everything is in its place. A candle emits a soft glow and scent in the room. Dinner is set on the table and you see a bouquet of flowers.

"You didn't have to do all this, Ted," you say, your eyes full of love.

He walks toward you and ropes his arms around you, smiling.

"Sure I did, darlin'," he whispers. "And it wasn't much. This is the bare minimum you deserve."

Your gaze into each other's eyes for a moment, and you lean into his lips and he meets you. It's soft and lovely, passionate but slow. He holds you tighter to his body, and your hands run down his chest.

"Golly, I sure missed that," he says softly with a smile, his forehead against yours.

"Me, too, babe..."

"I'm gonna keep goin' to Doc Sharon. I can feel it helping," he says, closing his eyes for a second. "I'm learnin' a lot about myself."

"I'm so proud of you, Ted."

He nods. "I'll share some of this with you someday, when I'm ready."

You nod in response. "Only when you're ready. I'll never force you to tell me anything you don't want to."

Ted smiles. "I knew I found you for a reason."

He cups your face in his big hand and kisses you again. Your body warming to his, molding to his.

"Are. we gonna make it to dinner, baby?" you ask with a sultry chuckle.

"At this rate, we ain't even gonna make it to the living room," he answers, kissing you, turning you around, and walking you backward through the doorway.

---

Thank you so much for this prompt. I hope I did it justice! I wish we'd gotten more Ted Lasso if only to see more of his journey. His mental health experience is so similar to so many others. Thanks for this prompt, friend!

[fure-dcmk]

As one of my favourite and most inspiring artists on Tumblr, I wanted to ask you for advice about being an artist online

I'm a self-taught artist who mostly draws OCs for my own amusement but I also like trying to draw fan art and I had accounts before where I posted some of my art

But I'm very self-critical so I took down my art because I'm still learning and I hated finding mistakes in it. I also deleted my accounts due to personal life setbacks.

But I really want to get back to posting again one day hopefully after I practice digital art more.

So... do you have any advice for artists who are insecure about putting themselves out there and engaging with a public audience?

I really would appreciate your insight

Thank you

♥️

Aaaa anon i'm not sure if I can give any useful advice but i'll try T_T

personally I'm pretty lenient on myself, i prefer to prioritize productivity than quality. so im not sure how helpful my POV would be to a perfectionist. and i see myself as a 'fandom artist' where people follow me for a specific fandom rather than my own art. plus drawing is my way to consume and process my obsession, I have no inclination to do original stuff. in other word, i truly feel inept in providing an advice on this anon orz

but I'll try anyway, it depends on what you want from posting art online. do you want the dopamine from seeing others enjoying your work? do you want to make friends? are you frustrated a thing you like barely has any content so you decide to cook your own food? you should have a vauge idea of what you want from posting

in my opinion, new artist tend to be more insecure in posting, a lack of engagement can demotivate you from posting entirely. so, posting serious art that take days to make are the motivationally the riskiest. people usually struggle to give feedback to serious art. when these posts flop you'll end up feeling more insecure

my advice is to prioritize fun first. things like memes, funny or interesting ideas. sketchy comics are my go-to tbh. people usually have more things to say on things like that.

so you can try to balance low effort content so that it doesn't hurt as much when the stuff that you do spend a lot of time in flops. doesnt mean you should stop experimenting and improving, just do keep in mind posts like that usually don't do that well, you should set your expectations properly.

^this is the most realistic advice i could give anon.

also im not sure if this would be helpful but everytime i get into a new thing, i will first only draw for myself. I'll only start to upload when i hoard too much and it start to feel ridiculous to not publish them

I'm wishing you luck on your art journey!

[outofcontexttokusatsu]

People have been giving you crap for not liking Kingohger, and trust me I don't agree with you, but I am at least glad you're still watching it and giving it a shot. You even praised a cliffhanger! So, be honest: Do you think it'll be crap (in your opinion) beginning to end, or do you think this is just a weak opening introduction arc or what? Also, do you think that, regardless of the series's quality, that doing non-set-in-Tokyo series will be a good step forward for plot diversity?

Going to assume these anons are all from you as well based on the wording (and if not I apologize to you and those anons but for sake of convenience I'm going to lump them all together).

Honestly overall I wouldn't exactly care that much people disagree with me about the show since I've spent enough time online to deal with people disagreeing with me about media (hell Faiz is in my top 5 and people still treat that show like the plague), but because Certain People I Won't Name wanted to start a massive argument over it and seem convinced that they can bully me into changing my mind for some reason I feel compelled to keep my rebuttals up.

I didn't go in WANTING to hate it, I've never gone into a show expecting or wanting to hate it beyond maybe Saber and even that I gave it a fair shot. I made my post about it to keep the running joke going (which I planned to do anyways regardless of quality) and when asked I made my points very clear, and at the point of the writing the first 3 episodes all have the very same reaction from me: the CG is ugly and genuinely distracting, the cinematography and general production of the show is very bad and makes a lot of basic mistakes that Sentai has never really struggled with before (seriously how hard is it to make sure the lights on the actors match the lighting of the environment?) because they're putting the fancy new tech first, the writing ranges from being decent (I do like Gira's gimmick of just pretending to be a moron want to overthrow Racules as a despot but so far little is done with it) to bland (Yanma and Himeno end up being pretty one-note despite attempts to add a new layer to them, Bugnarok and Racules are 1980's JRPG levels of generic BBEG) and even decently written/acted scenes are ruined by terrible editing or throwing in LOLRANDUM wacky and zany shit to them (DUDE HACKING BATTLE LOL) that takes me out of it.

If it weren't for the excessive flashy CG and cool new projection theater stage tech being front and center it'd be a painfully average Sentai show that is exactly why Sentai has been flopping in ratings and sales since Gokaiger, nothing new is being done and there isn't anything to hook a viewer, and the toys are kinda boring looking too. Especially after the moldbreaking psycopathy of Zenkaiger and Donbrothers, that we've gone right back to the same shit as always rather than keep pushing the envelope in the areas that actually matter is the problem. I don't even want to say someone didn't "get" Donbros (although based on some of the arguments people keep raising to me they really didn't) or blame it on sensory overload like my initial post, definitely a bad choice in hindsight but I was self aware about that, but this obsessive defense really makes just no sense to me at all.

I don't set out to make myself as the true objective arbiter of taste despite the jokes I make, and you shouldn't treat my words as such. I'm just some goofy (insert gender here) dork on the Internet who has some modicum of attention on themselves. Jokes(tm) aside I don't put myself above or below anyone else, I've been an avid fan of tokusatsu for ages and gotten particularly deep into it, deeper than the average person for sure, but I don't use that to build a pedestal for myself. You like Kingohger? Good, I'm glad you find something in it I don't. I won't attack or insult you for liking something I don't or enjoying something that from an objective standpoint is not good content, excluding maybe Ghost but even then you do you weirdo. But I've made my point and will continue to make my point until the show ends or I give up, and no outside force will change that.

Basically, what I'm trying to say about my opinion is:

And to get back to your point, I don't WANT the show to be shit beginning to end and I really hope it isn't, but based on opening perception and knowing who's behind the scenes I have low hopes for the show improving. Knowing me I end up just watching the entire show out of spite at some point but I really am going in each week hoping each episode is the one that changes my mind. Hell, I stuck with Kyuranger longer than most and that ended up getting pretty good when Houou showed up so maybe whenever SixOhger drops the show gets that kick it needs but as it stands now I couldn't say. As for the alternate setting offering plot diversity, see it's too early to make a judgement but I don't really see it. The different kingdoms are all so drastic from one another and the bizarro Final Fantasy-eques schizotech levels put the show in a weird place where paradoxically the setting itself doesn't really matter much, if the show were confined in one specific kingdom or at least had each kingdom separated into different plot arcs I could see it - which it may end up doing who knows - but the approach it seems to be going for seems to make it irrelevant. Even then, Adult Concerns will eventually rear their ugly head and the show will go through some shift to where the unique setting is dispensed with to end up with the same 8-9 filming locations we always end up in, again with Kyuranger that set itself up as a cool spacefaring action-opera and then we park our asses on Earth 4 episodes in and spend nearly the entire show there and the few times we DO go offworld after we just end up at the same quarry and stream we always go to.

[heartfulangel]

''Not always that the Moroi come first" pt.1

pairings: Rose hathaway x fem!reader (half-moroi half-dhampir hybrid)

fandom: vampire academy (2014 movie ver.)

This part contains: fluff, timeline set in either 2014 or 2015, stress, Rose being in denial

Context: Rose have been good close friends with Y/n for around almost 10 years, and although she is still very close with Lissa and have the bond and everything, she also quite admires Y/n for her compassion, empathic kindness, loyalty, and for her patience too, even if she isn't as close with her as she is with Lissa and even if Rose can't quite stand Y/n from time to time, let alone that they are friends.

(Don't like it? Do not read)

A/n note: Hey, guys. I'm back, and yeah.. uh, so um this is my very first "x reader" story on tumblr, so if this turns out to be a flop, just know that i'm sorry. But uh, yeah.. right to it.

[Y/n's pov]

'Classes are finally done, school is over for the time being, what is a better way than to spend time in the dormitories. Ah, this is exactly what I needed after training, especially since 4th period today was a bit more of a mess than usual. But eh, oh well. ', I thought to myself as I layed down flat on my bed with my back facing the sheets, as my position look that of like as if I was a starfish.

Then I got up as soon as I heard a knock on my door, then my face was replaced with a wide smile of pain and my eyes widen in annoyance. But nevertheless, I calmed down and spoke, "The door's unlocked!"

And as soon as I saw who opened the door and walked into the room, it was Rose and my face was immediately replaced with a softened face of relief when I saw that it was her.

"Oh hey, Rose. What's up?"

"Hey, yeah. I just wanted to see you and stuff, y'know we haven't really talked since lunch, so.." She said as she scratched the side of her head.

"Oh, okay. Well is there anything you need?" I asked, with a small smile tugging at the sides of my lips. "You know if there's anything I can do or help with, you can just tell me."

"Oh well, yeah the thing is that Lissa still has been struggling with her magic lately, and honestly I don't really know what to do and things have been stressing me out lately, and I just.." Rose ranted, then paused for a moment then I put my hand on her shoulder, reassuring her.

"Hey, it's okay. Since you are the only family she has left, I know it might be hard for her to go through these kind of things at such a young age like this, teenager or not. And for sure, I most definitely know how hard it must is to survive in a world where Strigoi lurks when nightfall creaks in, and while trying to risk your own life to protect a life of a future ruler of millions and millions of Moroi out there, but.. y'know, it's sometimes good to take a break instead of going absolutely reckless and keep stressing yourself out to the point where you break." I told

"But Lissa needs me just as much as I need her, I'm her Dhampir Guardian and she's my Moroi princess. What if her struggles ends up turning worse and I'm not there to help her!? Moroi come first, you know..."

"I know, but even Dhampirs need the time to breathe and take a break sometimes, even if Moroi aren't human and they need to rely on blood in order to live, we are just as much human as they are." I replied, as I looked at the floor for a quick moment and then immediately returned to face Rose again with my hand still on her shoulder.

"And you know, Rose... the whole saying of 'The Moroi come first'.. that's actually not quite always true. There is quite more to life than just being a Dhampir destined to be a Guardian protector to a Moroi, and to save many lives of other moroi while risking your own from ancient predatory monstrous vampires, and to be married to a Moroi someday or whatever in order to continue the next generation of Moroi vampires and Dhampir guardians. I'd know... and once you see it the way I did when I saw it for the very first time in my life, you'll realize that life sometimes can have it's wondrous moments and feelings, it's quite magically blissful." As I hold both her hands that are in her lap,

She tilted her head down for a moment, and then afterwards, she lifted it up and looked at me with a slight smile as she says, "Maybe you're right. Thanks, Y/n."

"Glad to kick some reassurance into you." As we both laughed, and then hugged.

( Later ... )

[ Rose's pov ]

As we walked back to my dorm, we quickly hugged very tight then pulled away, as Y/n walked back to her dorm waving goodbye to me, as I did the same back, I smiled.

'Maybe taking a break for a bit wouldn't be so bad after all. And... Y/n seems a lot more prettier than normal..- wait, why am I thinking like this?- no, Rose! Y/n is a great friend and all, but Lissa is more important, and Moroi still always have to come first!' I thought, 'But Y/n could be right.. but ughhh... this is so confusing. And why am I even thinking about her like this? I mean, Y/n, she's kinda pretty and a little cute but it's not like I like her like well, THAT. Well... at least I don't think so.. do I even like girls like that? God, why me..' As the ass-hat stress starts returning back to me, and I put my face in my palms.

[ruthiesrambles2]

Well come on then...

002 for MelRuth (looking forward to the essay that will come out of this)

Hello anon I love you for this and I love this for me, thanks for enabling me 😘😘

When I started shipping them: after watching season 3 I came to AO3 in search of more Brakenight and was shocked to discover MelRuth was a thing. So I rewatched from s1 again. Excuse to wear your furs caught my eye but See You Around caught my soul and it has been a slow descent into madness ever since. So... April maybe? Feels like a lifetime haha

My thoughts: No thoughts only MelRuth! Ha. I really flip flop on the nature of them. I absolutely adore the idea of Ruth pining after Melanie the whole time, maybe they've had flings but nothing serious, they're friends until Ruth learns the truth and her heart breaks. But I also concurrently headcanon that they did have a relationship, some time between the bees and the start of S1. They broke up but obviously there's still feelings there. And after seven years on the train they've learned how to work together even despite those feelings. The See You Around scene is everything tbh. Melanie realising love is important after all, but Ruth is just too hurt. So hurt in fact that she had been willing to let her die at one point! But she does try to delay it, asking for a trial, and I believe she had a hand in Melanie's escape with Javi and Jinju. By the time Melanie goes to Breslauer, Ruth is having a big internal conflict because she's still SO angry but also Melanie might go away forever. When she agrees to look after Alex, she's cursing herself for not being able to forgive sooner. Saying yes is saying I love you. And the longer she is away, the more Ruth realises she still loves and needs her, after all she always has "melanie on her mind" and she can "feel her out there". But then Melanie is gone, and probably dead, and the train and its people need her. And she needs someone to make her happy (enter Mr Pike). Melanie coming back is a massive emotional shock, and the two struggle to reconcile. But the love and care is still there ("I'm not going to let you go alone am I"). Until Melanie suggests working with Wilford. And after everything... Ruth can't deal with that. At the end of the war, she wants to stay, oh god she wants to stay. But she promised to look after Alex, once, and she intends to fulfil that promise. I love you too much to stay... Okay this descended into headcanon a bit but I am feral for them and the tiny glances between them and idc what you say Melruth is real if I believe hard enough 😂

What makes me happy about them: THE PINING, the little touches, the glances, the Wilford Pin, the fact I would let either of them freeze off all my limbs.

What makes me sad about them: Ben. They never said a proper goodbye (or welcome back from the dead). THE PINING. The fact season 4 is going to kill me.

Things done in fanfic that annoys me: when Ruth is in the engine/bunk room before the Milford reveal with no explanation! Caveat that I am currently writing a few things like this because it was easier and yes I'm annoyed at myself for it!

Things I look for in fanfic: at this point just them being in the same room together. Just any and all content of them together and being vaguely nice to each other. But above all I'm here for the E rated fics 👀

My wishlist: I don't know if this is for fic or for canon. For canon I just want them to acknowledge that there was something there once even if there's not now. And a good hug would be nice🥺. For fic I NEED a 100k word romance, yesterday. But I'll also take anything elaborating on their history together, small fluffy fics, smut (always), all the angst. I need an AU where Mel went to the B&B, an AU where Ben doesn't exist... All of it please.

Who I’d be comfortable them ending up with, if not each other: after a significant amount of reflection I would have to say Mel with Ben 😭. The set up is there and she does love him and they can be sweet together. Ruth is easier though. Ruth/Boki! I've said before I just want her to learn to love herself, but if she had to end up with someone I'm committed to Ruboki now. Or The Notary as an acceptable alternative. As long as whoever it is makes her happy. Happy Ruth is EVERYTHING.

My happily ever after for them: this post sums it up. Or you know, in twenty years time they are old and grey in a cabin in the newly terraformed warm spot and Melanie is digging in the garden and Ruth comes and puts her arms around her because she's about to go to a council meeting where Alex is the president of the new world, or something.

[futchgunk]

mx. feelings

long post. personal account of transmisogyny.

sitting and reflecting on a really hard (happy) cry and thinking about the threads that culminated this experience.

one of the birthday presents i got for myself was a made-to-order vinyl record of my favorite song "rabbits" from this diy egg punk band called Nurse Joy (xxnursejoyxx). This band was extremely influential for my coming out because i first saw them live when i was invited to a show by my best friend. (who is also goth and trans) These shows were so much fun!! Pre-eponymous nursejoy sets were so high energy and really lively. The mosh pits were energetic and not violent and it was so much fun!! like this was when i really truly felt like i could be. i had been starving for trans visibility in my personal life and i found a community that is so much more welcoming than entry level white collar jobs or craft brewing bartending. i dykegress

My bestfriend (🐝) asked me to see the nursejoy set, i loved their ep "Flop Era" so much I drew fan art of one of their songs. (a really big deal, at the time i was so insecure about my skills as an artist yet so eager to create something, so having an outlet that supersedes my anxiety however temporarily is so nice to have!!) For about a whole year, I was hanging out in the DIY scene just because this band had some fun songs to dance to in the name of trans (nurse) joy!!

This band ended living right next to the place that I had moved last spring. Imagine my surprise when my neighbors were my favorite band!!! I was literally making my tea in the summer and walking over to drink it on their porch. They supported me through when I got framed at work. I was feeling like I had a group of friends.

Last summer, the singer for nursejoy finally graduated college and we had a celebration and they said that they were really gonna push their show house "PF" as a diy label, and everyone that was at the let out after their celebration show was gonna be there. I was so excited for this celebration, I baked a cake for the lead singer. We all got grouped into mini 3 person projects and asked to come up with a show-and-tell by 8/8 (::::)). I like to think of myself as an amateur poet, I was super eager to even said i made something remotely musical, so I did. my group was the only group to present something (we did so by crashing a gig) and I was really happy with the work I produced: a sex-positive risk aware boundary setting rap song. A mouthful, but thats on brand ;;) .

Fast forward to October and the attention to the Palestinian Genocide. Long-Story short: I upset some pro-israel friend of the band who knew was friends with the drummer of nursejoy (also jewish) and the drummer reached out to me to mediate the tension between us. (I had already DM'd and messaged this person and was waiting on a response for weeks, 3 weeks before these messages, 5 after). As a black transwoman, if someone calls cries of prejudice, it needs to be addressed and immediately resolved. So it was just incredibly frustrating, disheartening, and ostracizing to have someone call me anti-Semitic and then have nothing happen. for like weeks. and like this really cut me up bc you should be able to do difficult things like talk to people about the things they said if they made you uncomfortable. You should be able to know that they will hear you and listen.

It felt so terrible to just suddenly be demonized and branded with prejudice and not being able to do nothing about it all. When i was hanging out with 🐝 i cried about how uncomfortable and lonely and helpless i felt with this whole situation. (Being vulnerable and crying has been a struggle with me my whole life, I'm really thankful that estrogen has me able to cry, and I'm glad i can talk to people about stuff that isn't so flowery all the thyme. Some big feelings I cried about was the frustration of not knowing what's going on, to seeing the same the very people who gave shelter and harbor to me avoid my gaze like normies do. I go to the transpunk shows because im so sick of these eyes, the stares, it is the same look on everyones face and they are looking at me like an enemy, AND TO SEE THAT LOOK ON MY FRIENDS FACES. It's so hard to forget that feeling.

I was seriously contemplating not showing up to anymore shows and gigs. I had to remind myself that I show up to shows to have fun, and there are other friends that show up to these shows make these gigs so much more fun. I can think of at least three girls that like to push hard off the top of my head. ::::)

Funny Enough, i had just bought the order of the vinyl in september, before all this shit went down. and i cried to 🐝 about how this album now has a warped and twisted meaning. Now all this attachment i had is feeling like a needle ceiling because I don't like this band anymore. 🐝 and I talk about the universe is clay to sculpt reality from with just our wills and I put a wish that I wish that my best friend could play bass on my record instead of the resident bassist because that would mean so much more to me. We had joked that Bee should be in nursejoy bc having a transgirl bassist is just so perfectly splendid. I wished this thought into the aether, knowing it was just a wish.

Allegations against the current bassist of the sexual assault variety, had nursejoy without a bassist around the same time that they needed to record these vinyls. They asked 🐝 to fill in for their shows and I was so cut up I only saw 1 out of the 2 performances. I was still really cut up that i only showed up to the new years eve gig. (btw i saw the person who started it all but they were 2 drunk to have a real convo).

Fast forward to my time loop. My first time seeing nursejoy with the new lineup. I got to hear my favorite nursejoy song live and experience the annoyance of cops shutting down the gig!! the gig shut down early and we had made our way to my place. I had asked for 🐝's help with listening to my record earlier, bc I was so paralyzed with fear that I couldn't listen to it by myself.

We did listen to it. I have a voice clip of my best friend giving me a shout out and a goth blessing, and proceeding to give me another goth blessing by playing this song that I get to hear whenever I want to. I got so overwhelmed by happiness that I couldn't think and cried happy sobs.

This has been an extremely emotional roller coaster of an experience, and if i wasn't able to talk to other transwomen i would have shrunken inward and become incredibly bitter.

Thank you Bee.

Thank you Snow.

Thank you River.

Thank you Fawn.

Thank you Lily.

Thank you Morrigan.

[avintagekiss24]

—belated; bucky barnes

pairing: mob!bucky barnes x black!reader

word count: 4738

warnings: 18+ ONLY, smut, sex, rough sex, anal sex, biting kink, choking kink, spanking, pain kink, vaginal fingering, mean bucky (my fave), ring kink cuz i love it when boys wear rings

squares filled: @buckybarnesbingo Y3: Birthdays ; @badthingshappenbingo Biting ; @star-spangled-bingo N1: Taking Charge

request: bucky barnes + "pay attention to me or i'll make you" + anal + choking + spanking + biting + pain

author note: it's been foreverrrrr! i'm so sorry! i had to work myself through a little slump! hopefully this makes up for the almost two months we've gone without a fic! this is story #2 for my 5k celebration, all fics will be tagged #5k...holy god. this was formatted in the beta text post editor on desktop, if anything looks weird, that's why :)

gif by @pedropcl ; line divider by @firefly-graphics

James Buchanan Barnes is possessive.

One of those massive hands around the back of your neck as you walk casually through the streets. Fingers wrapped around your wrist, or shoulder, or hip in a tight grip. He pulls you in close— right into his side as shopping bags hang from the tips of his metal fingers.

Bucky Barnes wants every man on the streets of Greece to know that you are his.

Not that you mind; quite the contrary. You just smile and giggle when he throws his heavy arm around your shoulders and hooks the crease of his arm right underneath your chin. Slip your hand into the back pocket of his loose dark jeans (giving that little tush of his a squeeze). Slink your arm around his little waist and breathe in his scent— heavy and woodsy— as the two of you stroll.

After all, he’s just as much yours as you are his.

All of his friends, Sam, Steve, Clint, all see the change in him. The little soft spot for you that blinds him entirely— turns him in a mushy puddle of emotions and puppies and rainbows. Very different from the Bucky they grew up with, but a Bucky that the three of them have come to enjoy. It’s a change of pace from the enforcer they know.

The two of you don’t talk about his work— in fact, it’s the reason why you’re in Greece to begin with. A late birthday present to make up for the fact that his “work” just happened to be the waiter at the restaurant he chose to take you to for your thirty second birthday. Come on babe, he chuckled as you scowled back at him over the rim of your wine glass, watching as he stained his white napkin red with his bloody knuckles, you know what they say, kill two birds with one stone… not funny?

Two weeks, two nonrefundable, open ended tickets, and five grand in bikinis, shorts, and shoes later, you’re getting some much needed Greek sun on your deep brown skin.

He’s even letting you call the shots for a change. Letting you wake him up at the ass crack of dawn to have breakfast— a spread of breads, cheeses and fruits on the balcony of your room as the sun rises. He doesn’t say a word as you drag him through the city, stopping at each little boutique and shoe store. Sits patiently as you try on every dress, every skirt, and every silk top in the entire country it seems.

Bucky even bit his lip as you gazed at engagement rings— hinting that princess cut is your favorite as you held your hand up into the natural sunlight as one adored your finger. Smiling over at him and wiggling your eyebrows all the while as he narrowed his eyes and plastered a fake smile on his face.

Today has been like all the others, a lazy day spent on the beach, a quick nap underneath an umbrella, a concoction of too much sun and too many margaritas going straight to your head. Now, you’re kinda sleepy and kinda drunk, but most importantly hungry— and Mykonos sounds like a great place for dinner. Despite Bucky’s objections (you’re too tired and too drunk to handle a ferry), you’re dressed in a cute little flowery sundress, him in an out-of-character white tank top, open pale blue and green striped button down and khaki chinos— you forbade him from bringing anything black— and you’re flip flops are slapping against the cobblestone street towards the ferry.

“Drop your attitude,” You say, glancing over your shoulder as he pays for your tickets, “You owe me.”

“Yeah, yeah, that excuse is wearing thin, girl.” You stumble a little with the motion of the ferry as you step onto it, having to grab onto the railing to steady yourself before Bucky grabs hold of your wrist, “Water only for the rest of the night.”

His voice is low and borderline threatening as he presses his lips right against your ear, and you know not to press him any further. You like to stick your toes right up against his line and that’s what irritates him most about you (always what he loves most), but you and he both know you’d never dare cross it.

Bucky pulls you behind him, hand around your wrist, that possessive trait rearing its head as male eyes fall on you as the two of you pass by. He finds an empty spot, away from the crowd, and plops down on the bench as you step up on the lower rung of the railing and stare out over the sea.

Within twenty or thirty minutes, the ferry pulls away from the dock and you can’t wipe the smile from your face. The sun sets off in the distance, the bright lights of the city turning into little pinpoints. Small droplets of the cool, salty water splashes up in your face as the wind and the ferry whips it up. You keep glancing down at the phone in your hand as you broadcast your current view to your instagram, laughing softly as hearts and emojis explode on your screen.

You lean forward, tilting your phone and smiling wide, waving into the camera before you shout out how much you love it here. The words are barely out of your mouth before an arm wraps around your middle, a wide, hard chest pressed into your back, “That’s enough,” he reaches with his metal arm, grabbing your phone, ending your live feed, “You’re too drunk to be hanging off the side like that.”

“I am not,” you struggle against him lightly as he sets you on your feet, “What is your problem?”

“I’m annoyed.”

“Well, duh. Why?”

He slips your phone into his pocket and crosses his arms over his chest, sharp blue eyes piercing into yours, “Pay attention to me,” he says low, eyes dropping down your body real slow as he drags his bottom lip between his teeth, “Or I’ll make you.”

So that’s what it’s about. Bucky Barnes feels neglected between all the shopping and beach days and margaritas. Jealousy is cute on him.

The words though, they strike you right to your core— feel them down to your bones. A hard swallow pushes through your throat as your lips part, big brown eyes softening as your breath starts to rush a little harder. You hate to admit— not really— you love this Bucky. This is work Bucky, a man you rarely get to see. Slightly scary, anger brimming just below the surface. Jaw tight, eyes hard, head tilted just a bit. He’s menacing, and it makes your lips twitch into a small smile.

Shrugging defiantly, you cross your arms over your chest, “You didn’t pay much attention to me on my birthday.”

“Not true.”

“Not true?” you nearly shout, eyes going wide, “I ate alone while you beat the hell outta our waiter behind the building! I had to wait two hours for my slice of cake!”

“How is that my fault?”

You scoff, “Oh, I dunno, maybe because our waiter was spitting out his teeth in the alley out back— all thanks to you.”

“I have to work. You know that.”

“Not,” you hiss, “On my fucking birthday.”

He knows he’s wrong for that shit, so he stands there, huffing quick before he cocks his head again and just blinks back at you— unamused. He won’t apologize, it’s just not in his nature, but his usual attempts to make you happy after he’s fucked up aren’t working; so he’s at a loss.

And you’re enjoying that. A little too much if you ask him.

But alas, it’s not fun to fight on vacation, and you have taken far too many liberties when it comes to his tolerance for attitude. It’s been fun— and you’re just drunk enough to push him one last time.

You move slow, walking right up to him, so close that each inhale pushes your tits into his body. The smirk quirked up on your lips grows as you peer up at him, eyes bouncing between his as you place your hands on his forearms still crossed over his chest.

Bucky lifts his eyebrow as you push up on your tiptoes and push your chin forward to bring your lips close to his, “And just how are you gonna make me pay attention to you, James?”

He inhales deep, pushes it out real slow as he tilts his head even further. A smile spreads on his face and you just know that this is the last thing his work sees before he rearranges the bones of their face. This is exactly why his clients pay him as well as they do.

Thick fingers are wrapped around your wrist again, nails digging into your skin as he starts to pull you behind him. He weaves you through bodies, you nearly having to jog to keep up with his strides. Laughter bubbles up in your chest, a little shriek escaping as he pulls you down some stairs to the lower level of the ferry. Once your feet hit the last step, Bucky whips you around his body, sending you spinning and laughing until you bounce into an old, rusty metal barrel.

The smell of salt fills your nose and lungs as you inhale, covering your face with your hands. Your skin is hot, lips slightly numb as you dissolve into laughter again. He’s right, you’re a little too drunk for this.

“I don’t think we’re supposed to be down here.” You mumble, brushing your wild hair out of your face.

“I could give a fuck,” he answers, stepping up to you, grabbing your face in his hands, “You’ve been testing me the entire time we’ve been here all over some stupid shit.”

Another giggle pushes through your lips as you bat your eyes, “I wouldn’t dare, Mr. Barnes.”

Bucky sucks his teeth as he drops his metal hand around your throat and squeezes gently, the rings on his fingers cool against your skin, “I was stupid, okay? But don’t put on that little innocent act, girl. You’re trying me, and I’ve had enough.”

A smile cracks onto your face, teeth sinking into your bottom lip. You wrap both hands around his one wrist and slip them up his arm, feeling the soft metal as you continue to goad him, “You got some proof, big man?”

The tip of his black and gold thumb prods at your lip, pushes just inside. You wrap your tongue around it and suck gently, keeping your eyes on his all the while.

Bucky laughs, deep and earnestly, “Proof, she says. She needs proof.” He glances around before he spins you quick, facing you away from him as he lifts your dress to reveal your pink satin thong.

You squeal loud, pushing and slapping at his hand as he grabs a handful of your ass, “Bucky! There’s people!” you laugh, “Oh my god!”

“Keep your voice down,” he warns, wrapping his metal fingers around your throat again, “Understand?”

A jolt of electricity flashes through you as you wiggle in his grasp. He tightens his grip around your neck as you wrap your fingers around the edge of the barrel, swallowing hard.

“That requires an answer, honey.”

The chill in his voice, added with the slow circles and soft tickles of fingertips against the back of your naked thigh sends a pang through your belly, “I understand.”

He chuckles soft and with a quick peck on the cheek whispers, “Good girl.”

Bucky curls his left arm around your chest, hooking your chin in the crease of his arm as he grips your right shoulder. You grab on to it with both hands, out of instinct, eyes wide and skirting around for any signs of other human presence down here. Bucky turns, moving you with him to eye the steps quickly again before that flesh hand sweeps around to the front.

The soft material of your dress falls over his hand as he rubs your stomach— his rings catching and snagging your skin. That hand pushes downward, over your thighs, gripping and kneading the soft flesh before he grabs the hem of your dress and pulls it upward, exposing those expensive panties again.

“Bucky,” you hum, his name trembling on your lips with the vibrations of your excitement, “Baby.”

He rucks your dress right up— right up around your waist and pulls the slack behind you, pressing his body into yours to keep it in place. The dark stubble adorning his cheeks and chin cuts into the side of your face as he nuzzles in, humming to himself soft before he kisses the corner of your mouth.

Those fingertips start to trace the hem of your thong— slowly. Back and forth, back and forth. From hip to hip. Your eyes flutter. Fingers grip the soft black metal of his arm a little harder. Legs go to jelly as another hard swallow passes through your throat.

“Ain’t got all that mouth now, do you?” He whispers, fingers slipping just inside the silk of your panties to tease the delicate skin underneath.

When he slips his hand in— all the way in— cupping hot skin, fingers dancing between folds and teasing a wet slit, an influx of air fills your lungs. A gasp, small and clipped sounds in the back of your throat as his fingers start a rhythm. You melt into him, head resting on his shoulder as your hips push forward to meet greedy fingers.

A naughty finger pushes in quick, and then a second— all the way to the black and silver rings dressed on them. His arm tightens around your neck as he presses his lips right against your ear, “You need to apologize.”

He fucks his fingers into you, withdrawing slow, and then pushing back in— each time the edges of his rings stopping him from going deeper. You can’t help but purr as you continue to grip his arm with both of your hands.

“I don’t think—“

“All I want to hear,” his words clip yours, each one slow and drawn and deep, “Is I’m sorry for testing your patience. I won’t do it again.” He curls his fingers, the pads stroking that sweet little spongey spot, making you clamp your legs closed around his hand, “Let me hear you.”

You can’t. You won’t. Too stubborn and too drunk to give in to him, wanting to win just this once.

If there’s one thing James Buchanan Barnes does not like, it’s hesitation. It’s dangerous, he always says. You think too long, you get hurt. Predators don’t hesitate.

Well, you like being his prey.

Only a few seconds pass before Bucky tuts in your ear, seemingly disappointed in your obstinate behavior, but you both know it’s just the opposite. His cock pressing into your ass tells you so.

The fingers disappear. The arm choking you just right pulls away and your dress falls back around the middle of your thighs. You huff, wiping quick at your forehead and pushing your wild, curly hair out of your face again.

Your hands find your hips in irritation but he slaps them away quick as he sucks his teeth, “You must really want this spanking, girl. Keep it up.”

That you do— keep it up. Huffing again. Crossing your arms over your chest like a petulant child. Brown eyes cut back at him over your shoulder to find sharp blues already on you. A smirk on his face.

Metal fingers curl around the back of your neck, pushing you forward gently until your thighs press against the old metal barrel again.

“Lean forward, kitten.”

Voice as smooth as silk while you do so, gripping the rusted edges for balance. Your dress is yanked up again��� rough this time— and twisted around his Vibranium hand. Then there’s warm, the warmth of skin against yours. Gentle brushes of fingers and a palm rubbing slow circles, then pinching and grabbing soft— prepping your skin for what’s to come.

He pauses for just a second, no doubt to scan your surroundings and then pulls his hand away. You lung forward with the slap he levels to your behind within a fraction of a second— the sound sharp and heavy.

There’s another, and then a third in quick succession before he’s massaging your skin again. Real soft and sweet. Tears burn at the back of your eyes at the sting that radiates through, all the way to your bones but the molten heat deep in your belly spreads like a fire. Each breath is hard and shaky, heart thumping against your chest but it’s so good.

Bucky switches to the other cheek, skilled fingers sweeping over your canvas of skin before he cracks you— one, two, three.

You squeal with each one. The thud of those heavy rings around his fingers send a quick, new shockwave every time, building on the one before it. The tips of your fingers go red from holding on to the rusty old barrel as tight as you are, but your brain? She’s fuzzy and warm, and drifting up into the clouds with each swift slap.

Bucky is a methodical man. Three for the right cheek, three for the left, three right in the middle. His hand sneaks around your hip, giving it a squeeze before it comes back around and drops to the inside of your thigh. Grabs the meat of it— digs his fingernails in just to hear you yelp. Cups your cunt in his palm, feeling the heat and the wet— makes him groan all low and dirty.

He bunches your hair in his hand, tugs you up by it. Spins you around to face him before hoisting you up and settling you on top of the barrel.

“You want me to fuck you so bad, don’t you?” He growls, ripping at the button and zipper of his jeans.

You just hum in response, wrapping your legs around his waist and throwing your arms over his shoulders.

Bucky grabs your chin, forcing it up before he squeezes your cheeks, “Huh? Answer me.”

Damp eyelashes flutter as hot air escapes from parted, hot lips. He leans in real close, cock pushing right at your slit and kisses you hard as he slips his arm around your waist. He breaks away quick, sloppy and loud before pecking your lips once, twice, three times again.

“You want me to fuck you, girl?”

The weight of his words are felt right down to your core, a shiver passing between the two of you. You let your heavy head fall back and your eyes close as Bucky nuzzles into the side of your face, his pretty white teeth skipping along your neck, nipping and nibbling.

“I want you to fuck me,” you whisper after mere seconds, finally submitting in this cat and mouse game, “Bucky, please.”

That’s all he needs— all he wants. For you to submit, after letting you have the reins for one day too long. He sinks into you slow, spreading you open with each inch, biting down into the side of your neck as he bottoms out. His teeth dig in a little deeper, a little harder as he starts to move, rocking back and forth almost succinct with the waves of the water.

You’re moving with him too, meeting each of his thrusts with your hips. You keep your legs tight around his waist, feet dangling and bouncing against the back of his thighs. A trail of hot kisses are pressed along your neck and down your shoulder before traipsing back up— teeth grazing along your jaw.

Long fingers skip up your side and between your bouncing tits to only wrap around your neck again. They squeeze, gently, as his pace starts to pick up, hips shoving harder and faster— that old barrel starting to scrape against the wood floor.

The force makes you louder, moaning with abandon as if the two of you are all alone on this little ferry. Bucky makes quick work of you, shoving metal fingers into your mouth— giving you something to suck on to keep you quiet.

“That’s a good girl.” he growls, voice gritty and low.

He’s punishing after that. Each snap of his hips thrusting you backward, the barrel you’re on top of tipping back and then slapping down on the floor. You yelp with each one, your mouth going slack around his digits as your hands fall to the edges of the barrel for some semblance of balance.

It’s obscene, the way you can hear your fuck. The wet of your cunt. The squeak of his cock plunging into tight, slick muscles. The heavy thud of his hips pounding into yours. The slap of your flip flops falling to the wood floor as he’s quite literally fucked them right off of your feet. It’s filthy— crude— and so very Bucky.

You’re back on your feet before you know it— before you realize it. Spun back around, Bucky’s hard chest and stomach pressed into your back. He grabs both of your hands and places them back on the barrel, his metal hand staying on top of yours, fingers gripping fingers.

Eager hips wiggle back into his as you hiss and sink your teeth into your bottom lip, groaning low. Your head drops when you feel his cock push through your ass cheeks— wet cockhead pressing against your hot rim.

He starts to fumble around behind you, each passing second making you more and more impatient. There’s a soft click, and then a light suction sound— something squeezing.

“Bucky,” you hiss, pushing back into him again, “Hur—”

The word breaks off right in the middle as he levels a quick smack against your hip— a warning. Then your ass cheeks are pulled apart, wet, slimy fingers sliding and prodding at your quivering rim. He brushes slow strokes, circling, pressing his fingers gently as he preps your little hole for what’s to come.

“What kind of freak brings lube to dinner?” you smile, gasping as he pinches the inside of your thigh.

You lurch forward when he grabs the back of your neck and yanks you back into him, lips right against your cheek, “The kinda freak that was gonna fuck you in an alley after dinner. Now shut that mouth.”

He’s pressing again, this time harder, his cockhead popping into you with force. You grunt with the initial intrusion, Bucky stopping his assault to allow you time to adjust to him— but that doesn’t last long. Your mouth goes slack again. Eyes slam shut, head falls forward as he slips in, deeper and deeper and deeper until his stomach is flush with your ass.

He wiggles— so you can feel him, feel him tickling the deepest part of you. Slaps at your ass again, quick, fingers glancing off your skin and leaving behind a hell of a sting. Then he’s fucking you again, slower this time, savoring the tight, glove-like hold your body provides.

Metal fingers grab at the hem of your dress again, tugging it up before they push back into your panties, finding a swollen, hot nub. Pinching and rubbing smooth circles against it, flicking and thrashing at the bundle of nerves before he shoves his fingers back into your cunt. They curl, those fingers, and pet your insides with surgical precision— only James Buchanan Barnes knows how to fuck you like this.

The heel of his palm slams against your clit as he fingers you rough and fucks your ass with gusto. Sleazy sounds gurgle up in your throat, the slapping of skin and the waves crashing against the side of the ferry, the rush of the wind filling your ears. Bucky pulls you flush against him and slithers his tongue just beneath your ear before his teeth grab a hold, tugging soft.

Teeth keep nipping— along your jaw, your cheeks, ears, neck. He fucks into you hard as he shoves his flesh hand into the neckline of your dress, gripping your tits. Pinching and kneading hard, thick nipples, mumbling sweet nothings all the while.

Your stomach churns, muscles tensing and flexing as synapses start to fire off in quick succession. Quick goosebumps pop up along your skin as your stomach tightens and you can taste it it’s so close. Bucky knows it, feels it as your walls constrict around his fingers, your asshole tightening around him. Vibranium fingers keep rubbing, keep fucking into your pussy hard, palm slapping against your clit, adding more and more pressure until the coil snaps.

It’s hard, and sudden— your body freezing as your orgasm consumes you. Bucky clamps a wet hand over your mouth as you mewl and bite into his palm, your hips thrusting forward with each wave of your release. He pulls his fingers from you to slap at your jumping clit, pressing the pads into it before he rubs quick little circles and then slaps at it again.

He drops his hand to your chin, yanking it up as you nearly cry, mewling and trembling with your release to kiss you hard and sloppy as you come. He kneads your tits with his mammoth hand as aftershocks flash through you, your used body jerking at random. Within seconds, there's a cloud of warmth in your ass. Rough grunts in your ear, growing louder with each spurt of his cock, your hot muscles milking him.

You let him use you, let him fill you up full of his silk. Grab his hands and lace your fingers with his as he empties long ribbons in you. Pull his arms around your waist and hold them there as he rides it out, his head falling to your shoulder. The two of you stand there, resting against that old barrel, breathing hard, skin sticky and balmy. Salt from the ocean in your nose.

Bucky’s the first to pull away, glancing back at the stairs before he pulls himself gingerly from you, leaving your body empty, a dribble of his come slipping out with him. He catches it with his fingers, drags them up the back of your thigh and between your ass cheeks before he shrugs out of his collared shirt and white tank top.

He cleans you up sweet with the tank top. Keeps his arm around your waist to steady you as he wipes at your thighs and your hot, sticky, puffy cunt, shushing you soft when you jump and whimper at the contact. He flings the messy tank top over the side of the ferry and rubs your hips and stomach real slow, murmuring into your ear all the while.

Diligent fingers then rearrange your thong— and cop a little feel, cupping your sensitive, swollen sex, giving it a little pinch so he can laugh when you shiver and squeak. Bucky pulls your dress, tugging lightly to get it back straight around your waist before smoothing it over your ass and thighs— even pulls at the top, making sure your tits are sitting pretty.

You can’t even open your eyes, overcome by alcohol and sleepiness and a post sex high. He fumbles with your fingers as your head lulls on his shoulder, a soft hum vibrating in your throat in your murky haze. Bucky lifts your arm by the elbow, sliding his hand up your forearm until he’s cupping your hand in his.

“Open your eyes, baby.” You groan in protest, causing a chuckle to rumble through his chest, “Come on.”

So you do. You always do whatever this man wants you to do— and there, right on your finger sits that big princess cut engagement ring you teased him with days before.

“How about we skip dinner and find a church, huh?” he whispers, kissing your cheek soft and sweet.

You glance at him over your shoulder, eyes wet as a smirk tugs at the corners of your mouth, “And if I say no?”

“You just can’t help yourself, can you?” He laughs as you adjust in his arms, pushing up on your tiptoes to cup his handsome face and kiss him on those pretty pink lips, “Then I guess I’ll have to fuck some sense into that pretty mouth of yours, won’t I birthday girl?”

[sunflowerim]

I LOVE YOU 3000!

-PART 30

Weekend 3

Harry waited for a whole minute before the door opened, revealing a very dishevelled Louis.

Harry waited for a whole minute before the door opened, revealing a very dishevelled Louis.

"Sorry, I was in the shower."

"You forgot I'd come early?" Harry asked making his way inside.

"Not really, kinda woke up late and everything else was late too. Tea?"

"Now?"

"Ah, there's no time for tea sweet Harold. I'll make 2 cuppas."

Harry watched Louis move about the kitchen picking up containers and cups while Clifford tugged at his trackies.

"Get off me Cliffy. Go play with Harry."

Harry whistled and the furry little animal came rushing to him.

Harry picked Clifford's ball from the ground and started playing with him.

"Sugar?"

"No."

Harry walked around the couch and flopped himself down on it.

Soon enough Louis arrived with two hot cups and handed one to Harry.

"Let's get the movie started."

Harry was fascinated with the new character that was introduced in 'Iron Man 2'. Natasha Romanoff. He was taught to say st interview that this would be his favourite character, but now he really liked her.

He watched in awe as she displayed her fight skills. Louis loved the reaction. Nat had always been one his favourites and he missed her terribly. Seeing Harry liked her too made him happy.

Harry sat motionless for a few seconds after the movie ended. Louis smiled to himself and got up with the cups, when Harry started.

"I don't mean to impose but can we watch another movie please."

"What? Really?" Louis chuckled.

"Yeah, I'm hooked."

"Can't blame ya," Louis answered from the kitchen. "But aren't you hungry?"

"A bit yes."

"Let's have some food first."

"Oh I was supposed to teach you."

"Don't worry about that, I had my helper cook lunch for us."

"Oh cool."

"Just wait for 5 minutes while I heat em up and we can go back to the movie."

Harry happily nodded and petted Clifford, who was sprawled next to him on the couch.

Harry helped Louis bring the food to the table and Louis put the 'Thor' dvd on.

Harry met the fourth superhero and instantly fell in love with the blonde god of thunder.

Harry practically started clapping as the movie ended and immediately looked towards Louis with a question in his eyes which Louis immediately understood.

"Another?"

"Yes, please."

Louis huffed a laugh and went over to change the dvds.

He put 'Captain America : The first Avenger' on Harry met the fifth superhero. He was absolutely taken by Chris Evans and his eyes watered at certain scenes. Harry Styles is a proper human afterall, Louis thought.

Harry and Louis picked up the plates and walked over to the kitchen sink, talking among themselves, Louis trying to excite Harry more about the next movies. They did the dishes in companiable silence, despite Louis insisting Harry didn't.

Harry didn't mind. He enjoyed spending time with Louis.

"Lou--" Harry drawled ever so slowly, "I was thinking--"

"If you say one more movie I'm gonna kick you out," Louis laughed.

"It's hard to wait."

"You need to give your eyes some rest. By the way, you could stay for dinner. It's almost time." Louis added after a pause.

"Yeah, you're right," Harry said, glancing at his wrist watch. "I guess I overstayed, I should leave."

"Hey, no. I mean you could have dinner with me, unless you have other plans."

"I don't."

"So...?"

"Okay I'll stay a bit more."

"Cool. But you have to cook this time."

"Oh now I get it. That's why you wanted me to stay-" Harry teased, "-you can't cook."

"And all the shops have been destroyed due to zombie apocalypse. Please stay and cook for both of us?"

"God you're so dramatic," Harry managed between laughter.

"You're one to talk."

"Oh shut up."

Harry buzzed about the kitchen finding ingredients. They'd decided on spaghetti. Louis followed the little instructions Harry gave every now and then and watched Harry deftly cook up a wonderful smelling meal.

A warmth spread over Louis' body as he thought about how this could easily be something he could get used to.

Harry was an amazing cook. "I'm a bit of a chef myself," he'd said when Louis complimented him on his skills.

"We've got to do this more often," Louis said finishing his meal.

Harry smiled brightly at that. "We shall."

Louis let Harry feed Clifford and put him in his corner for the night.

Harry seemed reluctant to leave so Louis asked, "do you still wanna watch it?"

"Yes, I don't think I'll be able to sleep if I don't."

"Okay I'll put it on. But it's the last one."

"Yayyy okay."

Louis laughed lightly at Harry's excitement and went on to put the 4th movie of the day.

He put 'The Avengers' on and plonked beside Harry, this time forgetting to keep the polite distance in between. Harry didn't seem to mind so Louis didn't shift away.

Harry's previous reactions were nothing compared to his current ones. Even Louis got goosebumps when the six Avengers took position, despite having watched it so many times before. Harry grabbed Louis' upper arm in excitement and Louis had to fight the smile that was threatening to creep on his face. They stayed like that for the entire movie and by the time it ended, Harry realised he'd been holding Louis and tried to subtly move his hand hoping Louis wouldn't notice. But ofcourse he did.

"Got a bit carried away there, Haz?" Louis teased lightly.

Harry could feel his cheeks heat up and struggled to find words to reply.

"It was mind blowing Lou."

"I know I know. There's still do much more."

Both of them were too tired by the end of the movie, despite the excitement of it all.

Harry yawned and that set Louis off too.

"God it's so late, I didn't even realise."

"It's okay Harry."

"I should go now."

"Wait, it's pretty late and you're too sleepy to drive. I'm not very awake either. You wanna stay over?"

"No no I don't wanna be a burden Lou."

"Shut up, it's no big deal. I'll get the guest room ready in 5 minutes."

And Harry stayed.

Louis returned after a while to inform that the guest room was ready and that he'd set out a pair of his t-shirt and trackies for Harry to change into.

Harry changed into Louis' clothes and couldn't help smiling at the way his stomach flipped.

He poked his head in time to see Louis entering his room.

Louis stopped when he saw Harry in his shirt. His over-sized tee fit the taller boy perfectly.

Louis' face looked like he wanted to say a thousand words and Harry was dying to know what it was but Louis settled for a smile. "Goodnight Harry."

"Goodnight Louis."

Harry would have thought more about the implications of the situation if he wasn't so tired.

Harry was confused for a minute to wake up in an unfamiliar surrounding before he realised where he was. His heart raced at the thought that he'd just spent the night at Louis'. It was platonic ofcourse. Even though Harry wished Louis was rather in bed with him--

His chain of thoughts was cut by a soft knock at the door.

"Yeah, come in," Harry said in his sleep ridden voice.

"Goodmorning Harry. Hope you slept well."

"Yeah, thanks Lou," Harry said taking the cup of tea Louis handed him. "What time is it?"

"Uh, almost 10."

"What?" Harry sounded frantic.

"Why is there a problem?"

"No I mean I had some work. Shit, I gotta leave."

"Just have the tea first and freshen up. I'll let you get ready."

Harry quickly freshened up and made a dash for his car, telling Louis he'll call later.

When Harry left, Louis knew he was in deep trouble. He'd asked Harry to stay over and Harry actually had. This was anything but normal. He had to talk to someone about it immediately. Zayn.

PREVIOUS / NEXT

INTRO

[marshmallowprotection]

Sorry to bring this topic back now, but I'm honestly glad to see you talking about the passport tequila(?) thing. I haven't read your passport post yet because I wanna avoid spoilers for the passport just in case I manage to get it one day (but it'll take a while till that happens, seeing Cheritz still isn't shipping to Finland and I still haven't got the bodypillow I ordered from them in May), but I've seen two pictures of some of its contents already. The second one a photoset of him and MC (which btw was seriously adorable and made me wanna get the passport immediately, man he's so cute) and the first one I saw was the doodle of Saeran being passed out.

My friend messaged me about it, also pretty devastated and disappointed that the artist had drawn something like that in the passport, completely forgetting his past and trauma with alcohol. Honestly, because it was the first ever thing I heard about the passport's contents and the first doodle I saw, I was really disappointed and felt hesitant about ever getting it. I went on a whole rant about it back then and then later started feeling like I overreacted a bit...

But not gonna lie, it kinda upset me too because it just seemed so OOC for him to do? You pretty much already put how I feel about it into words really well. I just don't think he'd drink alcohol, seeing that's pretty much where his trauma came from, and also when I think about the friends and mutuals I have who've had alcoholic parents and swore to never drink themselves thanks to that, and how Saeyoung doesn't wanna drink because of his mum and they share that trauma…

Then after talking about it with a few friends I began to think that hey, maybe he wanted to try it out once and already after ONE sip went "too bitter DX" and didn't want more. He likes sweet stuff anyway, even if he didn't have all the trauma, I doubt his sweet tooth would like the taste of alcohol. The first impression my friend and I got was that he was DRUNK, but nah, now he just looks like he's suffering because it was too bitter lol

But then I saw someone here mention that it might not even be an alcoholic drink (or that he passed out from the heat) and hey, I'm just gonna go ahead and headcanon that now, it was just way too bitter for him

In the end I do think that the artist who worked on that passport wasn't entirely aware of his past, which is a shame. Or just didn't think about it. I think someone told them to "make some cute and funny doodles of him" and they thought "hey drunk Saeran lol that could be funny and cute" without thinking about it more, and that's how the doodle became a thing

You’re still waiting for that? Jesus, I hope that the mail service is able to open up soon for your country and that it’s okay for them to ship things around. It’s been a while now, I would’ve thought that they might have been able to work around to get it to you! Well, precautions are precautions, and those are important when the world is like this but huh. Odd that it’s not working around yet. 

It really unsettled me when I saw it. I thought, “Okay, maybe it’s not actually just straight-up tequila or booze, I can rationalize this away as something else cause it’s really not okay to me.” I know someone said in the post that it’s on the Wiki that Saeran’s not a big fan of soda because it gives him headaches, and I know that feeling, so if one wants to think it’s soda, they can. It’s easy to say, well, it’d be possible that it’s the dry heat of the country and he’s flopped over from that after finally getting something chilled. 

It’s easier for me to rationalize it in that manner instead of saying that it’s alcohol even though it’s clearly intended to be seen as that. I’ve unfortunately got similar trauma and I see myself in the Choi boys. Do you know how rare it can be to find characters that are adults that don’t drink or aren’t invested in drinking culture as a whole? I’m fine with people enjoying their vices and doing things in moderation but—

I just cannot relate to it. I’m nearly 24 and I cannot stand even the smell of that stuff. It’s fine if you enjoy your wine or liquor or whatever, it just feels in such poor taste to draw out someone drinking that has made it very clear that they aren’t comfortable with drinking, and they shouldn’t have to explain out their trauma to have their feelings justified. The whole, “Just one sip, it won’t really hurt you,” is so toxic.

Can’t tell you how many times someone has told me that when I’ve made it very clear that I’m uncomfortable with that and I would rather chug dish soap than be subjected to booze. 

I’m proud of Saeran for how far he’s come in his AE. I sincerely am, emotionally he’s doing so much better and he’s working on himself, but I really don’t see him or his brother ever trying alcohol. There could be a point where maybe they just say, “What the hell did she even see in this? What do people even see in this stuff?” and they try one singular sip, and go: “Yeah, no, this isn’t the thing for me, no thanks.” 

I’m cool with that if that is what they choose to do. It’s their body, their trauma, and their choice. 

Saeyoung and Saeran have very clear trauma from Alcoholism. It’s made very clear from the both of them that they don’t drink. Seven notes that he’s about as straight-laced as they come when it means alcohol or smoking. Unknown can’t really be counted as a smoker, he literally used that as an excuse during the SE to contact Mint Eye. So, I’ve never read him as a smoker, either. It was a good excuse. Neither of them gets involved with addictive vices that are legal for you to use. 

I struggle with fanon content sometimes because I’ll find stories or imagines where the writer has shown Saeyoung or Saeran drinking, and I just have to nope out of that setting. It’s not cute or cheeky. I personally don’t answer any requests that involve the boys drinking because I’ve made my stance very clear on the subject and how I feel about depicting characters that do not want to drink and have made it known that they do not want to drink as drinking. The rest of the RFA? Sure, some of them drink occasionally, fairly in moderation, which is alright. 

The Passport itself is really cute, no spoilers, but that’s the only thing within its contents that made me uncomfortable. The rest of it was definitely worth what I paid for and it made me smile if that’s any comfort to you. It’s just that one little doodle that just... yeah, I think I would go with your theory on this one, and that being that the artist might not have known specifically about the brothers or what they’ve dealt with in their lives, and just went with a cute idea they had and it’s not really anything huge. 

It’s fine to drink and all, but it’s equally important to respect when someone says that they don’t want to do it. That is a personal choice, and I just wish more folks would consider Saeran and Saeyoung’s feelings on the matter since it’s been stated in the canon plenty, specifically by Saeyoung during his Routes events in the game, and you can infer from Saeran fairly easily given what he was subjected to in his life. 

TLDR; It’s fine to drink when you want to do it, and there’s nothing wrong with it in moderation; but, it’s important to respect that not everyone wants to drink or get involved with that sort of stuff. 

[raving--ravenclaw]

Christmas With... The Longbottoms! - Neville x Reader

A/N: welcome to part two of my Harry Potter Christmas series! Neville is my absolute favorite character so I really enjoyed writing this for him. I hope you enjoy reading it!

Warnings: None

Words: 2,500

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I nearly fell to the ground as Neville and I landed our apparition at his house. Him and I have been best friends pretty much since the first day of our first year at Hogwarts and every year we spend Christmas together. We alternate whose house we spend it at every year. Since we were at my house for Christmas last year we'd be spending it at his house this year.

His house was tall, three stories to be exact, and boxy. The siding is darkly colored and it seemed as if it was leaning forward. There wasn't much character to it unless you count the feeling of gloom it gave to anyone within sight of it. One thing about the house was off though… there were no Christmas decorations up.

"Neville, in the six years that we have been spending Christmas together I have never seen your house sans decorations."

"With the rise of he who shall not be named Gran didn't want to decorate. Said it didn't feel very Christmassy this year."

"That's rubbish."

"I s'pose you're going to gripe about it aren't you?"

"You know me too well. The only reason it doesn't feel like Christmas is because you don't have any decorations up! Voldemort didn't cancel Christmas!"

Neville flinched at the mention of the name and I turned to him and placed a hand on his shoulder, "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to shout it."

"S'alright. Just wasn't expecting it is all."

I gave him a hug and held him tightly. Neville and I were always very touchy. I'm not quite sure what the reasoning was behind his touchiness but mine came from the constant want to be close to him. I would easily admit it to anyone that asked but no one really seemed to notice my liking for him, including him.

Neville pulled away from our hug,"you're still wearing my scarf."

"I need it right now too, it's freezing out here."

"We could go inside if you want. It is cold."

"It is. Let's go."

We jogged inside and pulled the door closed quickly behind us. The warmth hit me like a nice cozy wall. The inside of Neville's house was always dimly lit and you could tell that his gran had decorated. That's not to say it wasn't cozy though. I always felt welcome at Neville's. However, I have to admit that his gran is not my favorite person in the World because of the way she treats him sometimes.

Neville shed his coat and then turned and offered to take mine. I peeled my coat off and set it gently in his hands.

"Gran, we're home," he bellowed after hanging up the coats in the entry way closet.

His gran came shuffling out of the kitchen door at the end of the narrow hallway that led to the rest of the house.

"Welcome, y/n. Merry Christmas."

"Thank you, Ms. Longbottom. Merry Christmas."

"It's late. Shouldn't you be preparing for bed?"

"We just got in Gran."

She huffed, "well I'm going to bed. You know where the blankets are Neville."

"Night Gran."

"Goodnight," I added as she began to climb the stairs.

Neville and I watched in silence as she disappeared at the the top of the stairs. She was awfully abrasive tonight. Don't get me wrong she was often grumpy but not usually entirely unpleasant. I assumed it was voldemort's recent re-appearance that probably had her on edge.

"Shall we go up then," Neville asked, snapping me out of my thoughts.

"Sure."

I went to grab my bag but Neville got to it first.

"Let me y/n."

"You don't have to do that, really, I can get it."

"Y/n, I'd carry you up if you let me," Neville said starting up the stairs.

"You're too sweet, Neville," I said following.

Neville's bedroom was on the top floor of the house and down a long haul. I wasn't in the best shape and I hate to admit but I would be put of breath by the time we got to his room. Once, when we were younger, we got an old slab of wood out of the attic and sled down the stairs over and over again until his gran caught us. I swear we never sat still as kids.

Reaching his room, Neville dramatically kicked the door open, having both of his hands full with my suitcase. I laughed at his overdramatic way of opening the door. Every year we spent Christmas at his house we always just slept in his room together. I was surprised that this hadn't changed as we grew older.

"Y'know, either your gran really trusts us or she hasn't really thought this whole thing through," I chuckled.

"I think she just doubts my abilities."

"Your abilities‽" I laughed.

He struggled to try and explain what he meant and was stuttering all over the place. He finally settled on saying, "you know what I mean."

"I really don't," I said pulling blankets down out of his closet and setting them on the window seat.

"Gran sees it as how I tend to be bad at everythin'," he said coming over to make the window seat up for a bed.

"You are not Nev." I cupped his cheek and turned his head to look at me. "Sure you used to be a bit clumsy but first of all there's nothing wrong with that and second of all you've grown out of it."

His eyes were so gentle. I could truly sit and stare into them hour after hour. "It's hard to shake, y'know? That view of myself."

I guided his forehead to mine and practically nuzzles into him. "It's not hard for me. I see my best friend everyday and realize that he's turned into this amazing, gorgeous, young man and we're only sixteen. You've still got growing left to do. I'm not going to be able to handle you by next year." He chuckled. "And I'm so luck to have you. Honestly I'm jealous too, I wanna look this good." We both laughed. "Never doubt yourself Neville, you have no reason too."

"For the record, I think you look better."

I finally let go of his face and he continued to make up a bed with a big smile.

"Why don't you sleep in your bed and I'll take the window seat this time."

"But the window seat's not very comfy. I don't mind sleeping there for you."

I had to take a deep breath and clear my mind before speaking. He was so sweet sometimes that it was hard to not just tell him how much I love him. He's just so good to me. How could I not love him? It's a bit overwhelming but in the best way.

"I'll take it Neville, it's okay."

"If you want to switch just let me know, okay?"

"Okay."

I settled down into the window seat and Neville in his bed. Out the large circle window I could see the moonlight glinting off the snow below. One thing I loved about Neville's room is how at night it filled with moonlight because of this window. It made you feel calm and on a full moon you didn't need any artificial light to see. His room in general was calm, just like his presence. It's funny how someone so riddled with nerves and anxiety could always make others feel so relaxed and safe. I guess he didn't want anyone else to go through what he was going through. I looked across the room to see him gently fiddling with a plant on his nightstand. I always did my best to make him feel calm too. He's been through so much his whole life. A lot of it right here in this house.

"Hey, y/n, do you want to decorate for Christmas tomorrow? You were right, it feels wrong without it."

"I would love to."

"Can't wait. Good night, y/n, sleep well."

"Good night Neville."

"If you need anything, I'm right here."

I rolled over and dozed off quickly feeling safe and excited for the next day.

In the morning I quickly hopped up out of bed, excited to decorate and get in the Christmas spirit. I ran across the room and flopped onto Neville's bed causing him to bolt upright and exclaim.

"Good morning sleepy head."

"You really scared me there!"

"I'm sorry."

"It's alright. I'm excited too. Just let me get dressed."

He tucked himself away in his closet to get dressed and didn't come out until I had told him I was fully clothed.

"You look so festive!" He was referring to my Christmas sweater that had little lights all over it.

"Thank you! You look very cozy."

He and I rushed downstairs to have a quick breakfast before getting to decorating. During which, his gran told us how it was wrong to celebrate when such dark things were going on in the World. Which is exactly why I thought we needed to decorate, it would surely bring some light to that darkness. We asked her for help with decorating since we weren't allowed to use magic outside of school yet and wouldn't have any way to hang the lights. She declined though and we realized we would have to do things the muggle way.

Once up in his attic we struggled to find the string lights and everything we would need to hang them but eventually we found everything. Getting the lights up one the house was certainly going to be the hardest part.

"So we have to use the muggle device," I stared at the tall triangle with spaced out stairs that was folded up and leaned against the wall.

"I think we can figure it out alright," he picked up the odd thing.

We grabbed all of our decorations and the muggle device and lugged all of it to his front yard.

"Where do we start?"

"If you'll hold the ladder, I'll climb up and hang the lights," I offered.

"That's dangerous. What if you fall?"

"Make sure you catch me," I winked at him and giggled as he turned bright red. "I'd trust you with my life any day Neville."

"That makes one of us," he said, leaning the ladder against the house. "Please be careful."

"I will be, try not to worry." 

I climbed the ladder with a bundle of lights and looked back down at Neville. Goodness it WAS high up and we're not even to the top of the house yet.

"You alright?"

"Yeah I'm okay, Neville," I shouted down.

He was holding the ladder steady and I'm pretty sure if I was down there I could see his knuckles turning white from how tight he was gripping it. I was very careful to keep my balance as I hung the lights across the eave. I leaned back, keeping a tight hold on the ladder, to see if I had the lights even. When I was satisfied with the way they looked I began to back down the ladder. I stepped down to the third ring from the top and my foot slipped off. Everything was a blur as I fell toward the ground rapidly. I heard a grunt as I landed that I was sure wasn't mind and the ground felt much softer than it ought to.

"Does this count as catching you," Neville groaned from underneath me.

"I'd say so," I groaned, propping myself up on my hands.

"You alright?" He smiled up at me.

"Yes, thanks to you," I wiped a strand of hair out of his face.

We stayed there on top of each other. It was mildly awkward but somehow not at the same time and eventually we burst into laughter.

"I suppose I should get off you now."

"I s'pose."

"You're so warm though," I laughed getting up.

"If you're cold we could go in and warm up," he got up off the ground.

I told him that I was fine and we continued on with the lights. We each took turns going up on the ladder to hang them. Neither of us made the mistake of falling off again. Not only did we hang up lights on the house but we put lights in his front bushes and candy canes along the front path. By nightfall we had his house looking more festive than ever before. 

We sat inside now, in his room. With everything going on out in the World right now this was surprisingly shaping up to be one of my favorite Christmases with him. I don't know what it is but I feel closer to him than ever.

"I'm still cold from being out all day. Are you," I asked Neville who sat across the room on his bed.

"Little bit. I had fun though."

He got up and walked over to the window seat and sat down across from me. He grabbed the top layer of his clothes and pulled the sweater off and handed it to me.

"H-Here."

"Thanks," I said slipping it on. "I'm beginning to think I'll be cold forever."

Across the seat the Christmas lights shone in the window casting a light glow of color onto Neville. He looked so handsome, he always did. 

He held his arms open for me, "if you're still cold I could help."

I scooted across the bench to lean into him. His arms wrapped around me and I nuzzled into him. We sat like that for a long while, talking about anything and everything, laughing and carrying on. The whole time we've been sitting like this I've been considering telling him how I feel. It would be so easy too. There was nothing stopping me. Well, except for the fact that he can be so shy and if I told him he might just curl up into a ball and never speak again. But maybe it was worth a shot.

"Neville."

"Yeah?"

"I really like you. Like a lot."

"I thought we had established that already," he laughed.

"Wait, you knew I have feelings for you?" I turned around in his arms to look at him.

"You have feelings for me‽"

"That's what I meant when I said I like you a lot!"

"Oh….," He stared off into space as if to contemplate this deeply.

"You know if you don't have feelings for me too that's okay," I said, hopeful that he wouldn't confirm what I had just said.

"No! No! I just didn't want to tell you. I really love having you around and I didn't want that to change."

"Well, I'd like to be around more, if you're okay with that."

"I don't think that's possible," he laughed.

"Even so," I chuckled.

I kissed him on the cheek and settled back down into his arms and as he nuzzled his head into the back of mine everything was as it should be.

[non-stop-imagines]

Party-Get Together-Thing (Request)*

Request from @twistedcharismaaa: Hi 🥰💕! I loveeeeeeee your stories 😩. So so much. I was wondering if you could write Peter Parker maybe a little older? Like 19-22? With the prompt “It’s two a.m., why are you next to me?”. Pleaseeeee tag me 🙏🏾✨

Prompts used (from Drabble List #2): #67: “It’s two a.m., why are you next to me?”, #20: “Shhh, they’ll hear us.”, #21: “Why are you laughing?”, #76: “You wear glasses?”, #86: “Where the hell did you learn to do that?!”

Pairing: 20+Peter Parker x 20+Black!Reader

Warnings: Some cursing, but I promise it's cute, it's fun, it flirty, and it's primarily SMUT, I ain't gon lie to ya

Word Count: 4.2k

A/N: So I'm just preparing y'all now, I was not expecting whatever this turned out to be.🤣 @twistedcharismaaa I hope I did your request justice and would like to thank you sooooo much for your patience. This was honestly extremely fun to write because it's been a looonnngg while since I have written smut and it feels good. Anyway, hope you enjoy! Love you allllllllll!!!!💖💛💖💛💖💛💖

UNIVERSAL TAGS LIST: @beautifulwisdom2001 @iamzion-therealhabesha @thottio @jetaimeamore @mixedfandxms @here-for-your-bullshit

Remember requests are open! It can be a specific prompt or from the Drabble Request list linked in the bio! Just ask to be on a tags list (or all tags lists)!

Masterlist

______

Saturday, 12:00 p.m. in the middle of June. What else would practically a floor of young twenty-somethings do except fill they’re idle time with some fun. A little drinking, a little smoking, the great possibility of hooking up with the cute, seemingly shy brunette boy that lives in the apartment 3 doors down from you. The one that waves at you when you pass by, even if he seems to be struggling with two handfuls of groceries. Thoughts move through your head as you move around your studio apartment, picking up stray clothes and tossing them in the hamper, unsure and uncaring of whether or not they have been worn within the past week. You pick up your phone and re-read the text from your neighbors, thinking about the consequences of the proposed idea.

Chilli 🔥🥵💃🏿🌶️:

Party, our place. 9:00. Your only job is to invite Peter. Your ONLY job. Don't fuck it up💅🏿.

Beth🤪💁‍♀️🌺🌟:

And, a couple bottles of cheap, high alcohol content liquor would be great too 🤪🤪

Peter. And cheap liquor. The two most simple tasks and yet it feels like you were just told to scale Mount Everest in 2 hours with no oxygen mask. You sigh and flip your long faux locs to one side of your head, staring straight at your reflection in the oval mirror that hung on your wall, gold paint chipping off.

“Hey, Peter. Party tonight at Chilli’s and Beth’s place. Make sure you come through.” You facepalm yourself and reset, pulling part of your hair back into a half-up ponytail style, hoping the change in visual will help. “Peter! Hey! How’s it going? Uh- my neighbors are throwing a party. Yeah you know those two crazy gals…” You stop in your track and let go of your hair, then flop down onto the beaten-up teal couch that sat underneath the mirror. Why was this so hard? He was the last person that you would expect to be nervous to talk to and yet here you were, contemplating whether or not you’ll even decide to leave your apartment for the rest of the day. That was until your stomach growled prompting you to stand from your couch, grab a hoodie to cover your upper body that was clad in a horrible DIY cropped cami. You pull on some slip on Vans, grab your wallet and keys that sat on the table next to your door and head out to your favorite lunch spot: a Greeks food cart with gyros that would make you murder a bitch. You pull out your phone from your hoodie pocket and begin to type out a short “Sorry I can’t make it to the party because I’m a little nervous bitch” text when in the middle of typing you bump into none other than the Peter Parker, the boy that had you prepared to become a hermit before even thinking of speaking to him. You look up to his eyes, not having to shift your line of sight too much since it was only a slight height difference, but still enough to make you feel sort of small under his gaze.

“Woah. Where are you running off too?” He finishes unlocking his front door and opens it but stops to turn to you, adjusting his backpack strap and then rubbing the back of his neck. His eyes were large and doe-like as his expression of shock stayed plastered on his face.

“Oh, uh, lunch. You know how it is.” You wave your hand still containing your phone around before quickly tucking it away then pushing a loc back behind your ear and beginning to annoyingly, or what you felt was annoying, play with the gold cuff that surrounded that specific loc.

“Oh yeah. I’m actually about to make myself some lunch too…” He points his thumb into his currently empty apartment, making curiosity consume you and forcing part of your gaze into the more than slightly disheveled apartment.

“Cool.” You place your attention back onto Peter and put your hands in you hoodie pocket, fiddling with your keys, your wallet, anything your fingers could find to calm you down. “I was just going down to that gyro cart a couple blocks down. I was craving one and once I start craving something, I NEED to have it, ya know...” You chuckle and look down at your shoes, widening your eyes for a moment at the insanity that were the words that left your mouth seconds ago.

“Well, don’t let me get in your way. I’ll see you later.” He begins to walk into his apartment but you stop him in his tracks, tapping his shoulder and quickly calling his name.

“Uh, are you doing anything tonight? Because my neighbors- you know Bethany and Chelsey, they live in 230? They are throwing some party-get together thing and just wanted to know if you could make it? There will be music and alcohol if that sounds fun to you.” You end your request with a slightly awkward smile that you only give someone that you’re trying to convince.

“That does sound pretty fun. What time- or does it matter?” He turns back around to you, trying to smoothly lean against his door frame, but greatly misjudging his distance and giving himself a small visible heart attack.

“It starts at 9, but I guess that’ll be more set up so show up closer to 11 just to be sure.” You laugh, calming down when you begin to feel the nervousness radiate from him.

“Thanks for the heads up. I’ll see you there?” He asks you as you being to walk to the elevator, pressing the button to go down.

“Of course! Who do you think is bringing the good alcohol?” The elevator doors open and you step in then turn back to Peter, opening your hands to him while keeping them in your pocket as the elevator door closes.

_____

You adjust your dress in the full length mirror that hung on your bathroom door, glad that you jumped on that 40% off sale on Fashion Nova last week. It was a short, satin spaghetti strap dress that was a beautiful powder blue and simultaneously hugged and hung off your body beautifully. You bend down and tighten the straps on your simple silver heels, your cutest but possibly most uncomfortable pairs of heels in your closet but you didn't mind because you knew right as you stepped through the threshold of your two neighbors apartment they were coming off. You sway over to the hanging oval mirror and admire your make-up, impressed with the job well done on your matching light blue eyeshadow artistry. Since the party was only next door you decided it was best for you to only bring your apartment keys, phone, and 3 bottles of liquor with you since anything else you would have needed was less than 30 seconds away. You take one last deep breath and one last once over of your reflection in the mirror, then head out your door, moving to the music that flowed out of the one bedroom next door.

“I knew we could trust you with the good stuff!” Chilli yells when she sees you walk through the door, time now almost 10:30. She was a pretty tall, 5’9”ish, brown skin that could rock a clown wig if she wanted to and eyes to die for. Barely ten seconds later, Beth, a short, about 5 '3'', fiesty girl with dirty blonde hair pokes her head from the bathroom, eyebrows just finished but still fully dressed in a black, strapless crop top and pink skirt and shoeless.

“I knew she could do it. Now lets just see if she followed through with the boo-thing situation.” She pops back into the bathroom to finish her make-up.

“Please, for the love of GOD, stop saying boo-thing.” Chilli takes the bottles from your arms and places them on the counter, currently covered with several other versions of alcohol and snacks that are commonly requested when a group of twenty year olds get together. You pick a bag of gushers from one of the bowls and flop down onto the still pulled out bed, quickly undoing and pulling off your shoes. “Don’t think I won’t say anything out white boy down the hall. Did you talk to him?” She picks up the blankets that covered the floor of their apartment and placed them in the whittled basket you remember her buying at a thrift store a couple of weeks ago.

“Yes, I did. After bumping into him, of course.” You pop a gusher in your mouth and lift your legs onto the bed allowing Chilli to straighten out the rug that sat beneath your feet. “After a bit of small talk I told him about the party-get together thing and he said he would come so, ha.” You stop your friend from moving for a second and swiftly pull the sticker tag that layed along her right buttcheek. The pants were regular black jeans that fit her perfectly and were a perfect complement to the pink stain crop that she had on.

“Well, good. Phase 1 done. Now for phase 2.” She turns around and crosses her arms, raising her eyebrow which pulls your attention to her sparkly and aesthetically pleasing eyeshadow. You stop your hand before placing a finger full of 3-4 gushers into your mouth, confused as to what this “Phase 2” entailed.

“Uh- what exactly is Phas-” Before you finished your words, Bethany come sauntering out from the bathroom, make-up pretty much finished but still a brush in hand. Almost as if they rehearsed this moment, they each grab you by a hand and begin to sway with you, matching the tempo of The Weekend by SZA playing in the background.

“You are gonna get dicked down.” Bethany sings and turns you around, giving you fully to Chilli who does a mediocre cha-cha with you.

“Because you need that more than a girl’s night Netflix binge right now...” Chilli sings, finally letting you go, allowing you to plop back down on the bed.

“Why am I not surprised by you two? Always thinking witcho pussy.” You finally place your much needed gushers into your mouth and roll your eyes.

“Because, darling, pussy rules the world. I don't make the rules, just simply follow them.” Chilli states with her best British accent then quickly turns on the charm when she hears the first group of guests knock on the door frame.

_____

11:30. You look at the door again, smiling at the familiar faces that file in but stay seated at the counter, slowly sipping on the beginning of your third concoction of blue raspberry vodka and lemonade, an original of yours. You look down at your phone for something, anything to tell you that the boy that you should not be all hung up about did not just appease you earlier today. Right as you were about to head back to your apartment for a moment you receive a tap on your shoulder, making you slowly turn around to see the owner of the hand, obviously surprised to see Peter, wavy hair tossed around as if he just finished getting ready a minute ago in a plain white t-shirt and black dress pants with a belt equipped with a gold belt buckle. You weren’t surprised that such a simple outfit on this boy had you trembling at the knees, but the cute smile he gave you as he looked you up and down had you pooling where you sat.

“Sorry I’m so late. I realized too late that I had no idea what to wear.” His words mixed with your slight intoxication had you laughing a bit more than necessary, but that didn’t bother Peter one bit.

“Well, you know how to improvise under pressure, don’t you, Parker?” The flirtatious inclination in your voice caught Peter off guard but not too off guard to quickly follow you to a part of the kitchen with a couple of stacks of shot glasses. You take two from the bottom of one of the stacks and fill them with the Crown that sat near the stacks. You hand one to him and smoothly lean against the counter, raising your glass to him. “To the promise of a very fun night.” You two toast the first of what will be half a dozen shots between you two and down the liquid, wincing at the burn then pulling him to the middle of the living room to dance in the midst of some already too drunk young adults knocked out on the couch.

_____

As predicted, six shots for you and six shots for Peter was enough to have you dragging him back to your place, lips locked and stumbling to your locked door. Your groan and turn around to the door, removing your key from the top of your dress as you allow Peter to continue to push past your faux locs to suck harder on your neck. After a couple of moans, you finally are able to push past your door into your place, drop your keys on to the table next to your door, and blindly move to your couch. You push him down onto the teal fabric and immediately straddle him cupping his face with your ring covered fingers as you pull him further into an exceedingly heated kiss. You feel his fingers tickle up your sides, slowly pushing your dress up above your hips to your waist, the movement becoming more and more unbearable the higher his fingers go. You couldn't help but push away and begin to crack up, earning the most confused puppy dog face you have ever received from him, only making you laugh even more.

“Uh, why are you laughing?” He continues to run his fingers up and down your exposed flesh, but you quickly place your hands on top of his, stopping the movement and slowing your laugh.

“You’re tickling me. I am unfortunately very ticklish on my sides.” You help Peter out by pulling your entire dress over your head, letting your unrestrained boobs pop as you finish pulling the dress above your head, having slight trouble when you reached your hair, but giving Peter a show as he runs his eyes down from your brown breasts with perfectly dark nipples to the black thong that hugged your hips. You throw the dress to the floor and finally rest your eyes back on Peter’s face, guiding his sight back to your eyes and giving him a confident smirk. “Liking what you see, huh?” He just says nothing and goes back in for another round of making out, his hands continuously making their way to your ass but slowly moving back up. You start to buck your hips on his lap, smirking into the kiss when you feel him grow underneath you. While keeping your lips glued together, you stand from his lap, guiding him over to your bed and slowly sitting down, breaking the kiss but not breaking eye contact as you go to undo his belt. The pace seemed to be excruciatingly slow for him because after a few seconds of letting you kiss down his “V Line” as you slowly undid his pants he pushes your hands away from his waist and quickly undoes his own belt, clumsily stepping out of each pant leg. You hold in your laughter at his goofy franticness but let a small grin grow on your face, breaking some of the sexual tension by making Peter laugh when he looks back up at you.

“What now?” He chuckles, pulling his shirt over his head, giving you a great visual of his surprisingly well developed muscles. Your eyes trail down his chest slowly, making you absentmindedly lick at your still surprisingly well glossed lips as you continued to look down his abdomen.

“Nothing, just loving the enthusiasm.” You grin up at him, watching as he hovers closer and closer to your face, kissing you again as he tugs down your thong, humming a response into your mouth. His kisses continue but start to move down your body, some extra attention ensuing when he reaches your breast, catching your right nipple in his mouth. He begins to suck and swirl his tongue around the nub and sneaks a look at your face, eyes closed arching your back into the feeling. He continues down your body, finally reaching your inner thigh, the closeness enough to have a groan drip from your lips. You feel Peter smile as he kisses up toward your pussy, but his now gradual ascent makes you perch up onto your elbows.

“Yeess…?” He raises his eyebrow as he looks up at you, continuing to kiss up your thigh.

“Oh, nothing. Just wondering where that haste you had a few moments ago went, that’s all.” You giggle, brushing his hair back from his face so you could have a full view of his sultry and and teasing gaze.

“Ohh. Oh, you mean this?” Right after he accepts your challenge, he dive right into you, sucking hard on your clit and licking streaks up your slit. The sudden onset of pleasure makes you let out a shriek, which makes Peter quickly stick his middle and ring finger from his unoccupied hand into your mouth which you instantly begin to suck on. “Shhh, they’ll hear us.” The tone of the words that seemed to drip from his mouth earned a complying hum from you as you nodded and looked into his eyes. He just smiles and continues on you, sticking two fingers into you, curling them and pumping them in and out slowly as his tongue continues to focus on your clit. His hum of satisfaction that he lets out against you runs a vibration through you, bringing you closer to a finish. Your moans on his fingers increase in volume before you lean back onto your bed, no sound able to escape your mouth due to the intense feeling of pleasure coursing through your body. Peter quickly catches on to just how good he was making you feel and stops in his track, keeping his laugh to a chuckle as he watches you squirm from the sudden loss of contact. “Can’t let you have all the fun.” He quickly shimmies out of his underwear and jumps next to you into bed, gently kissing behind your ear as you come down from your attempted climax.

“Fuck, where the hell did you learn to do that?!” You moan, leaning into his lips as they trail back down your neck. You feel his dick rub against your thigh, coming dangerously close to your pussy which clears your mind up a bit, making you push him away and look up toward your nightstand. “Go on. Pick your favorite. They’re newly stocked.” You smile up at his hovering naked frame before watching him roll off of you and crawl up to the nightstand drawer, opening it and pulling a condom from the still closed box. You wait for what seems to be a moment too long, occupying the ache between your legs by supplying friction from your thighs.

“So, you wear glasses?” Peter coos, circling your glasses in one hand as he sits up next to you. “You know what, I just realized I have never seen you in your glasses.”

“Because,” You reach for your glasses but groan when he pulls them away. “I just prefer to wear my contacts, that’s all.” Peter gives in and lets you have your glasses, but soon after a mischievous look plasters on his face.

“Model them for me. Please?” He goes back to kissing down your neck, knowing that of all the gestures he has tried tonight, this will get you naked in front of him modeling your glasses in no time, and boy did it work.

“Fine, fine. I just need to go take out my contacts.” You giggle then saunter into your bathroom loving the feeling of knowing exactly where his eyes were. Less than a minute later you were there, standing at the foot of your bed, glasses on as his hands began to roam your body again, slowly pulling you onto him, making you straddle his now protected dick.

“Oh, this was a great idea.” He pulls your face down to his, gently moving the faux locs that fell into his face to the side. Your hand begins to have a mind of its own as you lead his dick to your pussy, positioning it at your slit and letting your hips do the rest of the entering. All that comes from Peter’s mouth after this was a weak “Oh my,” before he grabs your hips and helps your hips move up and down his dick. You lean back down to his face, sticking your tongue into his mouth, fighting for as much dominance as possible as his surprisingly large size moves in and out of you, supplying the much needed and severely missed pleasure you were feeling minutes ago. You two stay in this position for a moment, reveling in the pleasure that you both were feeling before Peter rolls you two over, grabbing your right thigh and bringing it up to his shoulder. For a moment your reach up to cover your upper body, the new position making you feel oddly vulnerable, but Peter quickly senses your mood shift, slows down his thrust, and lowers his forehead to meet yours. “You okay? You need me to stop? I can-” You shake your head and kiss his concerned puckered lips, instantly feeling more comfortable.

“Please do not stop! That is all I am asking from you now is to please not stop!” Your words come out more as a grunt, letting a loud groan come from your lips as Peter quickened his pace again.

“Yes ma’am.” As his pace increases, the movement of his hips become sloppier, which you thank your lucky stars for because you would not be able to handle much more before reaching your hilt.

“Parker, I’m gonna cum,” You moan out, clawing at Peter’s back as he leans onto you more and more, movements becoming increasingly free.

“Me and you both. Fuuuu…” And after a few more thrusts his hips slow to a stop with you writhing from your climax beneath him. After you two take a moment to catch your breath you slowly move up to where your pillows were, recooperating from the incredibly fun sex you just had as Peter rolls the condom off of himself and tosses it to the trash can by the table at your door. He joins you underneath your blankets, turning to face you and giving you the sweetest kiss you have ever received then pulls back to simply look into your deep brown eyes.

“That was a… well, fun.” You giggle, kissing Peter again then laying your head on his chest, letting him run his hands over your hair, feeling a sense of ease when he stops to focus on certain locs that catch his attention.

“I don’t think you understand the number of times I have thought of that moment.” Peter’s playfully crude remark earns him a light slap on the chest but your hand placement left you defenseless for when he pulls you back into his chest, letting the silence that falls over you two and the sounds of light breathing rock you both to sleep.

____

You awaken slightly from the deep slumber that overtook you and Peter hours ago, and after taking a second to gather your wits you look over to your alarm clock on your nightstand. 2:23 a.m. You groan at the small headache that ensues after you turn over to your stomach and reach up to feel your unwrapped and slightly disheveled hair. You gently rock Peter until some movement comes from him, decreasing the strength of your push as he comes to, but still rocking him as you speak to him.

“Hey. Hi. It’s two a.m., why are you still next to me?” Peter grabs the hand that was doing the rocking and pulls you back into him, lightly feeling your hair before giving you a kiss on your forehead.

“Well, I guess that means I did something right because you didn’t kick me out after, so…” He shrugs and smiles down at your placement on his chest.

“I mean… you’re ight. Enough for me to let you stay over or wateva.” You front your real reaction about last night, smiling at the way his chest moves when he laughs. “I guess you can stay for a while longer, but it’ll cost you.” These words had Peter on top of you in no time flat, that familiar mischievous smile gracing his face again.

“I knew you couldn’t get enough of me.” He bends down and takes your lips into a heated kiss, but before anything continues you push him back, staring seriously into his eyes.

“Also any and all questions from Chilli and Beth will be rebounded to you because I cannot deal with those two today-” As you finish your words Peter dives back into you, peppering kisses along your favorite spot on your neck.

“Fine, its only fair.” and with that his head disappears underneath your blanket, and you were already raring for round two.

[one-spidey-boii]

BUMMER SUMMER || peter parker; ch nine

read ch eight here

masterlist

an; i’ve really struggled with juggling all my responsibilities lately so please forgive me. i just ate questionable fried rice and i’m feeling mediocre at best. have a great day you guys.

warnings; mentions of battle wounds (i.e. blood/scars/etc), smut, mature language, fluff, angst, both peter and oc are 18+!!

word count; 3.1k+

edie's pov

i take in a deep breath and click the call button on my phone after hovering over it with my thumb for a few long and painful seconds. i slowly bring it up to my ear. on the third ring, a small click sounds on the other end.

"ah! you're still alive. yippee!" tony's voice chirps jokingly at me from wherever he and the rest of the avengers were staying. i sit up in my bed and play with the end seam of my shorts.

"i am..." i trail off awkwardly, not entirely sure what to say to the man. he's making me call him everyday, and i don't know how long it's going to last, but i'm already running out of things to tell him at this point. i'm healing, my bruises are fading, the pain is subsiding.

"is peter treating you right?" he asks. i gulp at his question, remembering the moments peter and i shared only a day ago.

"u-uh yeah, wait- um what do you mean?" i stutter out, mentally kicking myself.

"i mean, is he taking care of you? yanno, making you chicken noodle soup or hot chocolate and giving you back massages- actually scratch that last one, i don't wanna think about that." he rambles on, my face flushes and i pull loose pieces of fabric off of my shorts completely in panic. no way can mr. stark find out about peter and i...whatever we are.

"hey! it's not like that." i mumble, doing my best to cover my nerves.

"yeah, sure it's not." tony retorts back with a snort, his voice just above a whisper. i'm at a loss for words, "uh, pfft, yeah, it's not."

"i don't care either way- well, that's a lie, i care a little bit. just keep healing and make sure peter stays sharp out there." i squirm in my spot and continue to update mr. stark on my condition, eager to get off of the phone.

with a final 'goodbye' and 'don't do anything stupid'- he ends the call and i flop back down on my bed. my side only slightly aches when i move now, becoming less of an annoyance and more of a numbing feeling.

i glance around my room at my fresh yellow walls. the color brightens the space and brings a warm feeling to the pit of my stomach. but my bed is still in the middle of the room, making me feel open and vulnerable on all sides. with one big huff i roll out of bed and plant my feet at the end of the frame. i give one push with both hands and the bed goes skidding back to the wall. in the process, my side cramps up and a burning sensation pushes its way through my body, making me wince.

"you okay there?" a soft, yet teasing voice speaks up from behind me. i dip my head down between my arms still placed on the bed and peek at the intruder through my legs from upside down. peter stands there, a lazy smirk spread across his lips. i roll my eyes and flip my head back up to turn around and face the boy.

"absolutely. i don't always need your help, parker." i reply and lean against the end of my bed. after the alarm went off last night, peter and i spent our time making food until he had to go out on patrol, more hesitant that ever to leave. none of us said a word about the disturbance, despite my suspicions. he returned late in the morning, later than his usual schedule. and when he did get back, he went straight to sleep, not even making it to his room. he stayed fast asleep on the couch until late afternoon. i guess he came straight to me after he woke up.

it's only been two days since i've been out, but my body is growing restless at the lack of adventure. jealousy poked at heart knowing that he would be the one seeing and protecting the city until mr. stark deemed me ready to get back out there.

i push the feeling away, not wanting to focus on things i have no control over.

peter takes a few steps closer to me, speaking playfully, "so, mr. stark gave me a call today. he wanted to know if i was taking care of you." once his body reaches mine, his fingertips immediately move to trail along my hips, "what do you think, wolfie? am i taking good care of you?" his voice lowers the closer he leans in.

i gulp audibly at his question, thinking back to my own conversation with mr. stark. my eyes meet his and i can’t t form any words under his gaze. so i just nod sheepishly at him, it seems to be the only thing i can do lately. peter's mouth curls into a satisfied smirk and it makes my stomach drop into my feet. an overwhelming surge of heat passes through my body and i have to lean back farther into the mattress for support.

peter and i didn't really talk about what had happened yesterday. at the time, it didn't seem weird or out of the ordinary. it felt natural, good. now that we've—i've—had time to think about it, well, i don't know what to think. i don't even know what to say to him. it's embarrassing how much control he seems to have over me, after so many years of being able to joke around as friends.

now his closeness makes my heart squeeze both in adoration and frustration. i'm angry at how fast he's able to make me melt into his hands. i used to tease and make him blush, now he somehow turned the tables. just add that to the list of things i can't control.

peter leans in, close enough to pepper a soft kiss to the corner of my lips, "i gotta head out, but i'll be around." he pulls away and points to his ear, where his comm rests.

"see you around." i say with a level voice, now too focused on gaining a hold of myself to be sweet with him. he drops his remaining hand from my hip, choosing to ignore my change in demeanor. with a small wave that reminds me of the nervous boy he used to be, he turns the corner and i'm alone again.

my skin is buzzing. the feeling is mostly concentrated on where peter's fingers had been, but it's spreading quick. needing a distraction from the feeling, i change out of my comfy clothes into something a little more suited for action. i rumble through my luggage and pull out a black sports bra with leggings to match. before i leave, i shove my own comm in my ear.

after making my way to the training room, i set up a few different targets. the first one is a simple circle with three red rings spaced around a red center, i place it firmly on the ground. the next one is the same, except this time i suspend it into the air, letting it sway back and forth. the last one is a little different. it's human shaped. as a fighter who refrains from hurting people as much as possible, i'm hesitant to set this one up. but after what i went through, i need the practice on a human target.

i flip through my phone and search for some music to get my energy up, i connect to the speakers that run throughout the house and crank up the volume. the bass of the music cancels out the continuous buzzing through my body, allowing me to shake the tension away. i stretch in front of the mirror before pulling a table to the far side of the room, opposite the targets.

on the table i set out an array of throwing knives, each one reflecting the fluorescent light from the high ceilings. i run my hand over the edge of one knife in particular before grabbing the handle and nailing the middle of the hanging target in one fluent motion. the knife sticks out from the center as the momentum violently swings the target in the air.

i take in a deep breath and pick up two more, one in each hand. i throw both at the same time, hitting the grounded target side by side with barely an inch between them. i continue to practice on the two targets, using up all the knives on the table in the process. i'm sweating and panting as i go to collect them and start again. i let my eyes pass over the human shaped target, but i quickly look away and focus on the other two once again.

after ignoring the last target for what seems like forever, i stop myself mid throw as i notice how shredded the others have become. i drop my arm to my side and use my other hand to turn off the music.

the silence of the room makes the pounding in my ears almost unbearable as i scope out my last challenge of the night. the lifeless figure has no face. it's only the silhouette of a head and torso, a simple shape. despite the fact, i can still see the features of one person in particular.

i raise my hand and ready myself to throw the potentially deadly weapon held in my grasp. i can feel my heart rate pick up and i stare down the figure before me.

a female, seemingly innocent.

my breathing grows heavier as i fall back on the memories of that night, only a few days ago.

she looked scared, all i wanted to do was help.

my stance falters at the thought. my eyes clouding over as i grit my teeth and shake my head to snap myself out of it.

"see what happens when you try and help people?"

with a grunt, i charge at the inanimate target before me. my legs cross the floor in three simple strides as i jump up to plunge the knife into the head of the target. i slide down and i hold the knife tighter in my grasp, letting it slice all the way down the figure, nearly severing it in two. i drop the weapon.

with heavy breaths, i turn to grab another human shaped target. i kick the other one out of the way, replacing it with the new one.

i try different attacks, needing to set up a new target every time i 'kill' the last one. i do it again, and again, and again- picturing the same face every time.

peter's pov

i can't just come out and tell edie i'm searching for the people that attacked her. but i can't come up with any explanation as to why i'm staying out so late—err, early? i don't know. i do know that every second i'm not out here looking, it's becoming more and more dangerous for her. it scares me.

the sun is peaking out from behind the tall buildings of the city. i spent the entire night staking out two people specifically, but no such luck. now i'm sat atop a building, hesitant to call it a day and go back to edie. but, oh boy, i want to see her. thinking about her makes my heart swell, and now that i'm finally able to show her how i feel, it seems like the whole world let out of sigh of relief for me.

i like the way she reacts to me. it being a huge contrast to the playful, witty banter that we used to share exclusively. now, when we get close- i'm the one who takes control. it's a weird change of pace between the both of us, but i don't mind it one bit. it’s almost like i crave it.

once making the decision to go back to the compound, i swing myself across the city, eager to see edie. i get to the door and press a suit covered thumb over the touch screen. the glass door slides open and i slip into the cold air of the compound, making sure the glass shuts and locks behind me before i go any further.

i pull the mask off my head and stumble into the living room, hoping edie is somewhere close. when i don't see her, my face drops and i turn to jog down the hall towards her bedroom. not finding her again, i raise my hand to the comm in my ear and speak.

"e, you there? where've you run off to?" i turn on my heel again to step into my room down the hall. as i do so, her voice floods through my head.

"training room." she utters, her usual soft voice sounding hardened and cold. i quirk an eyebrow up as i change into more comfortable clothes, confused by the girls tone. nevertheless, i finish up and trot over to her.

as i round the corner, my eyes settle on her standing in the middle of the room, rolling her shoulders back with a knife in her hand. i stand quietly and watch her movements, hesitant to step in and become an accidental target. edie raises her arm to throw and adjusts her feet into a low stance. so quickly, i almost miss it, the knife flies through the air towards a human shaped figure. to my surprise- it clatters against the target and falls to the floor.

she lets out a groan and pulls at her hair, muttering profanities under her breath as she turns to see me staring. her body stiffens under my gaze and slowly she lowers her arms to her side, a doe-eyed expression on her face.

"you're back." she mutters. i take a few steps into the room and gulp at what i see. targets similar to the one she just attacked are shredded and thrown across the room in piles. there must have been fifty of them, each one damaged in a different way.

looking back at her, i force a smile on my face, "you've been busy, yeah?"

her eyes follow the path mine took and she shrugs, indifferent, "mhm. training." i nod hesitantly.

"have you slept at all?" i pipe up, curious at how long she has been here.

"not really, no."

another nod, and i shuffle over to the table that holds her collection of weapons. i'm impressed with her skills, seeing as she has no 'super powers'. but damn, she could take anyone down in seconds. i admire the girl in front of me, hoping she knows just how much i do. not long after, a bug of curiosity wiggles around my stomach.

"do...you think you could teach me?" the words slip out of my mouth before i can think of the consequences. edie looks at me with a stoney expression that makes my heart jump. i regret my words immediately, afraid that i offended her or something.

i try to take it back, "i mean- only if you want! i know it's stupid so you don't..."

the devilish smile that creeps along her face shuts me up, "i'll teach you."

i let out a small breath, "o-okay. i should probably go change." i say as i look down at my baggy clothes and compare them to her tight fitted ones. edie shakes her head and waltzes up to me, the smug smile still gracing her lips. i grow nervous, realizing i'm in her territory now. this is her thing, so i force myself to hand over the reigns.

she gestures to the rows of knives on the table, "take you pick, parker." her cool and confident voice sends a small shiver down my spine. i look closer at the table and gingerly run my fingers along each sharp edge. i stop at a knife with a shiny black blade and red handle and i pick it up to feel the weight of it in my hand. the blade isn't metal or steel and it has small ridges on the surface. i bring it closer to examine it even further.

"that's obsidian, black volcanic glass. it was used a lot in the stone ages," edie takes the knife from my hands and twirls the point on the tip of her finger, "it's sharper than steel, and nowadays surgeons use it in their scalpels...good choice, peter." she smiles up at me. i can feel my cheeks flush. she places it back in my palm and struts to the center of the mat, "we'll start close, hopefully you can hit the target. how's your aim?"

i roll my eyes at her taunting words and walk over to her place on the mat. edie strolls around me in circles, observing my body language- which is less confident than i'd like to admit. she stands in front of me and plants her hands firmly on my hips, twisting them into a desired position. next, she does the same with my shoulders, all the while sticking her tongue out in concentration.

then she comes to the knife in my hand and pulls it away, only to place it back and wrap my fingers around it one by one. it immediately feels more comfortable in my hand. she circles me one more time and hums in satisfaction at her work.

"now, obsidian is brittle, so it's really important to make your shot count or else you risk breaking the blade," edie comes back around my front and leans in close, her finger resting under my chin, "don't break my blade." she threatens with a smug smile curling at the edge of her lips. i can't stop my eyes from dropping down to look at them, and she notices.

edie traces her finger along my jaw line, making me shiver once again. i groan at the lack of control over my body and my eyes widen at the sound. she just smiles and lets her hand fall down my chest to finally rest at her side before taking a step back. she points behind her to a circular target a few yards away.

"give it a go." her voice grows softer, encouraging me to make a move. i tighten my grip around the knife and raise my arm to chuck it at the target. i stop short.

"could you...maybe show me first?"

|| taglist; @my-patronus-is-mabel-pines @whycantileaveyou @lovewolfspirit @kitykatnumber @franksholland @goddamnit5sos @thehugslut

[angelcorebabyowo]

Title: Honeydew

Warnings: Brief mention of suicidal thoughts

Summary: Lydia, Johann and edward get ready for a party and it's all OOC because yeah

"I don't even want to go!" Johann complains adjusting his poet's shirt and flopping down into the window bench with a huff as Lydia just as quickly starts to brush through his unkempt hair, he even closed his eyes whenever the strokes got gentler. He typically didn't go to parties unless he was performing and he, sadly, wasn't invited to do that this time. Honestly, the only reason he agreed to go was that it was considered rude to ignore an invitation from the mayor so he felt as if there wasn't really even a choice. Maybe he should just fake sick to get out of it, that wouldn't be all that bad, just a simple little head cold.

He sighs softly and leans back into his sister so that he wasn't jerked around as much, he was a bit tender-headed so it made it easier on both of them now that he wasn't wincing every three seconds. "It'll be perfectly fine babes, don't stress so much. You'll get gray hairs if you do it too much." Lydia warned with a small grin, her unnaturally sharp canine teeth looking unnatural amongst the normal ones. A few years ago she dragged everyone into sharping them but she continues to do it every time they run down even slightly. It would be weird if she didn't make it look so damn good " Although I bet you'd love that, huh?"

"Oh, you better believe it" Johann joked sticking just the tip of his tongue out of his mouth by habit. That wasn't a lie, he always fantasized about the thought of having grayish-silver hair at a young age and everyone in the family knew it and would make fun of him at every chance they could. He knew it wouldn't be a good look or actually enjoy it but it still made him laugh every time so he didn't really think that far ahead on the subject. His dad had gone completely grey by the time he was 30 and Edward, his brother, was starting to already so signs of it at the ripe age of 16 so it was possible that he could develop early on as well. "Could you imagine me being completely grey by my 20th birthday? You'd have to start calling me sir in a sign of respect!"

"You get no respect, none" Lydia laughs and stops brushing Johann's hair for a quick second before starting to do the very loose twist with her fingers. It was one of the easiest hairstyles she knew that could be done in half an hour or less. "Put it in a bun or just leave it down? Either way, it's getting twisted because I've already started."

"Maybe in a bun? " He mumbles leaning more onto the window and looking out at the city the setting sun was hitting just perfect to cast a somewhat orange and pink glow on the tops of certain buildings.  He assumed his apartment complex was one of them do to the height alone. He sometimes wanted to just sit on the ledge and watch the sunset that way, one false mood and he would plummet ten stories down before landing in the pool below. He wondered if he'd still be alive by that point. 

"A buns always a safe option." She whispers interrupting his thoughts and gently putting his hair in a bun before taking a step back to look at her handiwork "Its a little high but I think you should be good. That way it's nearly a safe bet, not one person would recognize you." 

"Do you think Avi would still recognize me though?" Johann questions as he looks into the vanity mirror and puts on a fix inspired mask. He forgot why he picked a fox, maybe do to their cunning abilities or something along those lines. He'd picked it out when he first got the invitation weeks ago so all memories seemed to just fade from him. 

"Avi would recognize you even if you didn't have a face or hair, now stop being a love-stuck puppy and both of you finish getting ready. " Edward interrupts walking into the room. How no one heard him walking down the hall with the obnoxiously loud heels was beyond everyone. He was also wearing his mask already. A cream scaled one with a few black scales mixed into it as it added ' Flavor '

'Snake' was the first thing that came to Johann's mind whenever he first saw it all those weeks ago, and even today his mind couldn't stop from going to that place no matter how many times Edward insisted it was a dragon inspired one. Johann still wondered what kind of snake it would even be, maybe just a simple corn snake. Edward wasn't that mean, after all, he wouldn't pick something venomous after all. 

"I am ready." Johann insists pointing to his outfit, the only thing he had to do was change into some dress pants and he'd be off to go.

"I was talking about both of you. More specifically Miss. "I'll do it later" over there," Edward says, he had a point after all. Lydia wasn't even remotely ready to go at that point. Her hair was pulled into an over-the-top and eye-drawing hairstyle and her nails were done to perfection, but other than that her clothes were just basic pajamas "go get dressed before we leave you at home." 

Lydia smirks before patting Edward on the cheek in a taunting manner. "Talking mad shit for someone who got his license suspended."

"Johann can! Right, you can still drive?" Edward questions flopping down onto Johann's bed with a loud sigh as the bed creaks under the new weight. He winced at the sound but overall didn't say anything about it. 

"I'm 15 years old and haven't even taken the exam yet" 

"Didn't ask how old or if it was legal just asked if you knew how."

"I refuse to let either one of you drive my car," Lydia says before walking out of the room to actually go get ready knowing that the other two would actually leave her behind. 

"Our car!" Edward calls before leaning over and closing the door fully and sighs loudly again before laying up against the headboard already messing up his golden capelet and neon blue shirt. He really couldn't stand not being the center of attention for a single second, he always dressed like that so it wasn't that far of a bet after all. "We have ten minutes before it starts but you know the saying-"

"Arriving fashionably late is better than arriving on time, shows how little you care."  Both of them say at the same time although while Edward sounds cheerful Johann just sounds even more tired then he always does as if he was trying to drag it out for as much as he possibly could. Johann sat at the vanity trying to figure out how he was going to cover up the bags under his eyes that, even with the mask, were extremely prominent. he eventually just settled on leaving them there as it seemed to add character to the entire look. (He was going for a renaissance era poet who just lost his husband due to some mysterious illness. He seemed to actually be hitting all of the points except for the crying but no way was he going to cry in front of people.)

They sat in silence now, it wasn't awkward, in fact, it was more comfortable than anything. Edward was doing something on his phone and Johann was trying not to have a panic attack because he was actually going through with this while struggling to fit pants that were a little too tight on. Alright, so maybe it wasn't all that comfortable but it was close enough to it. 

After about 20 minutes Lydia rushed in with a smile wearing bother her outfit and mask on. It was a multi-colored short yet puffy dress that fell off the shoulders and a mask that looked suspiciously like a peacock with the number of feathers that seemed to be hastily glued on. "All they had at the store was the plain ones so I had to glue the feathers and sequins on myself so now it looks as if a 3-year-old designed it!" she complained before going over to Edward and promptly laying down on top of him with an over the top sigh. "Woe is me."

"Well whose fault is that L? We offered you to come with us weeks ago but Noooo, you needed to wait till the last second like some sort of troublemaker," Edward says pushing her off and then promptly standing up and rubbing his eyes slightly and throws the keys he had been hiding in his pockets to Lydia with a pout. 

"Off we go come along little children!" Lydia says before walking out the door again, the sound of her boots echoing through the mostly empty hall. The only thing in them was a few paintings of fruit painted in over the top and crazy colors and a single statue at the end of the hall that they won at an auction a few years ago for like a thousand dollars,

It wasn't worth it.

"We're the same age!" Johann argues running after her trying to put on some of his slip-on shoes as he walked. It didn't fit the look but no way was he also going to wear heels, that was pushing it too far for him at best. 

"Stairs or Elevator?" Edward askes whenever all three make it out of their apartment building and into the main hallway "I'm taking the stair because no way am I getting Vored by an elevator"

"Stop being so mean to me!"Edward whines but gets in the elevator anyway with a pout and it started to go down, Lydia was babbling about how much fun tonight would be and her brothers both groaned in unison. 

"That's baby talk. Grown-men take getting eaten like a champ." Lydia says with a small laugh before hitting the button to take them to the main lobby "Johann baby, what are you taking?"

"I'm already in pain so I'll just take the elevator, fuck walking down 10 flights of stairs. "Johann says pushing his way into the elevator and gently holds on to the railing. "Ed gets in here, I refuse to sit next to you if you walk down down disgusting!"

If this was going to happen all night then what a fun one it would be. 

[lovehelpmewrite]

Priorities

Title: Priorities

Pairing: Brian x reader

Summary: You and Brian did have plans but it seems like he has different priorities than you... at least at first.

Word count: 1.1k

Warnings: fluff, kissing, hickies... more fluff?

[A/N]: So this is an answer to this ask from the lovely @not-john-watsons-blog​ and it was really fun to write even though it took a few tries for me to really feel out how i should have everything set up :) i know im not super consistent with requests but i forced myself to sit down and work through this one because i know its been a Minute since i put out content for y’all. ANYWAY i hope you all like it and please feel free to leave feedback!!

- - -

“Ughhhhhh,” I whined, plopping down on Brian’s bed, making him gently bounce from where he sat at the head of it. He had a stack of notes sitting between us and his textbooks littering the floor.

“Come on, you know I have to study,” he reasoned, lightly poking me with the eraser of his pencil. 

“But you’re so… ughhhh,” I groaned again and flopped my arm over my face feigning pain. “You’re really cute and it's ruining my life because I’m thinking about kissing you all the time!” I said exasperatedly. When I dropped my arm back on the bed and turned my head to him dramatically all he did was shake his head and grin, looking back at his book and trying to focus once more.

I groaned again in half frustration, half jest.

"I wait all day-" I started, pushing up on my elbows.

"Oh not this again," Brian muttered back though he was still smiling.

"No! I wait all day! Sit through all my classes, takes notes like a good student, make sure you guys aren't rehearsing or having a gig, drive all the way over here and you- you're studying!" I said in an exasperated tone, though I was struggling to hide my own smile.

Brian shook his head again. "I'm sorry! I know I said I would be free after class today but I didn't know I'd be getting another paper due in three days!" He chuckled. He seemed somewhere between genuinely stressed and trying to keep the joke up.

Feeling guilty now, I pushed myself up to stand again and walked to stand next to him. I slowly slid my arms around him, resting my chin on his shoulder and watching him write for a second. I pressed a small kiss to his shoulder after a moment.

"I'm sorry too bub I didn't mean to make you feel guilty," I apologized softly, pressing my face further into his neck.

He sighed and nuzzled his face against mine. “No it's alright, I get it, I was excited to spend time with you too,” he said quietly, a sad smile coming over his face. He dropped his pen after a moment, bringing his hand up to my head and lightly petting my hair as I kissed his collarbone softly. He laughed for a second as I started lightly sucking a hickey onto his neck. “Is it my under eye circles or my unwashed hair that turns you on?” he laughed.

“Hmmm,” I pretended to be in thought, kissing his neck one more time before moving up to whisper in his ear. “Both. You know how much that tired scientist look gets me going,” I started out able to keep my voice sultry but by the end, I was laughing too. I yelped and laughed even more when he suddenly pulled my arm and had me fall into his lap, holding me there with one hand and trying to tickle me with the other while I squirmed.

“BRIAN NO!” I laughed loudly, screeching and wiggling while his fingers poked at my sides and neck and ribs. 

He slowed down after a moment and was just looking at me as we both caught our breath, getting that look in his eye that made my heart lurch and my hands shake.

“What?” I asked quietly, watching the warmth grow in his eyes, the gentle smile grow on his lips.

He shook his head. “Nothing,” he answered back, just above a whisper before he leaned down and slowly kissed my lips. “Come over here. Want you to lay here while I finish this up and then we can spend the next two whole days together. No homework this time,” he proposed, patting the side of the bed toward the wall.

I smiled and carefully crawled over his blankets and then trying not to disturb his papers, I laid down and moved so my head was resting gently on his thigh. I looked up at him for a second and mirrored his smile. “Alright, back to work. The sooner you get it done the sooner we can actually cuddle and make out,” I grinned cheekily.

“What motivation you’ve given me,” Brian chuckled, picking up his pencil with his right hand and placing his left hand on the side of my head, fingers lightly stroking my hair. 

I fell asleep like that at some point, smooth fingers pushing back my hair from my face and the quiet scratch of pen on paper and the smell of pure Brian surrounding me. 

When I woke up the room was darker and Brian had moved to spoon me from behind, also asleep. He’d brought his blankets up to cover us and all his books were put neatly back into their place across the floor on his desk. The sun seemed to just be setting outside but that wasn’t much of an indicator as to the time because it was getting colder out and the sun was setting earlier and earlier. It didn’t bother me so much though. Worst case, I’d fallen asleep around one in the afternoon and it was nearing four.

I shifted slightly to stretch my spine and felt guilt fill my chest as Brian hummed from behind me, waking up from what was clearly a needed nap. 

“Good morning love,” He greeted, voice hoarse with sleep. He looked at the clock and made a noise. “Or good afternoon.”

I smiled and turned slightly, kissing his chin as he stretched and turned his head up. “You should go back to bed, you need sleep after being so busy all week,” I advised.

He hummed. “But then my beautiful girlfriend might complain about not seeing me for another week. Can’t have that,” he grinned at me sleepily.

“The good news is that there’s this revolutionary concept where two people can sleep at the same time, in the same place… together,” I smiled, enjoying the light banter.

“Oh is there now? I must meet the scientist who discovered this,” he quipped back with a cheeky smile.

I shook my head at him, guiding his chin down and kissing him again. “I’ll make sure to bring them along next time. Your bed fits three right?”

He pretended to be in thought for a moment. ��Mmm, better not then,” he said, pulling me closer to him and pressing me back into his warmth. “Just want to spend a day with my love, is that too much to ask?”

I laughed and lightly jabbed him in the ribs with my elbow making him laugh in response.