#it works so well in book form cuz we can’t actually SEE but we get to hear his thoughts

[theamazingannie]

Realizing that if the crows get their spin-off and they do the Kuwei storyline then that means we won’t get to see Jack for way too long😭

[siphoklansan]

HEYHEY SIPPY!!! For the ask game, I hope you don't mind me asking for... kind of a lot because I'm really curious jskdkfs but you can cut some out if want to, dw!

🌹♥️♠️⚗️📚🏆 for Siphok and 🌟🤖 for Pin-cha?

RIDDLE ROSEHEARTS ᝰ.ᐟ

sippy and riddle are friends! both of them have one thing in common: a stickler for rules. the only difference is that sippy doesn’t follow crazy rules (ex. heartslabyul’s strange traditions!)

fun fact: they both hated each other before the end of book 1 because:

⤷ sippy likes to voice out her opinions, so she gets into a yelling match from time to time with riddle when she disagrees with his behavior. ( “IT’S JUST A TART, FOR THE LOVE OF GOD!” 💀 /j but yeah something like that-)

⤷ riddle hates how she doesn’t give two shits about his rule. ( “Nuh-uh.” “What do you mean “Nuh-Uh” ?!?”) and she also defends adeuce when they break the rules, much to their surprise.

at the end of book 1 they both had a truce and became some sort of buddies to each other! they both share an interest in small critters <3

ACE TRAPPOLA & DEUCE SPADE ᝰ.ᐟ

besties for life (adeuce will not admit it) they always go everywhere with each other and grim!

sippy is #1 deuce defender because she kins him😭 so ace rarely wins and argument when she’s around. sippy tutors deuce for history class (more on this later!) and deuce returns the favor by helping her fix things around ramshackle <3

like deuce, sippy bickers a lot with ace but it’s all fun and games. she’s like a tired mom with him (begrudgingly watches his basketball matches because ace insists on it so much, secretly doesn’t mind and enjoys it lmao-). I lowkey see ace as a therapist friend for some reason since he’s usually the voice of reason so she goes to him for advice sometimes! Only for certain occasions though cuz we know how ace is💀 /hj

DIVUS CREWEL ᝰ.ᐟ

#1 dad for sippy. they both go on shopping sprees together (crewel insists on it, because sippy wears the same outfit everyday and it irks him 💀). sippy isn’t the best at potions class so he tutors her privately at times!

crewel designs outfits for sippy sometimes! in the ghost bride event, her suit was tailored to her by crewel.

a short angst scenario for them would be sippy feels bad to see him as a dad because she doesn’t know if crewel sees her as a daughter but he actually feels the same😔.

other than that, sippy got a little more strict because she picked up some habits from crewel (much to adeuce’s dismay😭).

MOZUS TREIN (doesn’t look like him, i know) ᝰ.ᐟ

that one proud grand-uncle (?) TM /j

sippy is likes history classes, so it’s like a breath of fresh air for him in class (“Finally, someone who does not snore every 2 minutes.” /j)

not much to comment on them, but one thing trein dislikes about sippy is that she covers for students who are slacking off in class ( ex. covering grim’s sleeping form with a book) and he’s just like -_- but trein counters that by deducting both her and the other student (who’s mostly grim) participation points💀

ASHTON VARGAS ᝰ.ᐟ

that one crazy and upbeat uncle at family gatherings TM 💀 /j

while sippy is good in athletics, she doesn’t do very well in flying due to a small fear of heights.

⤷ “THE BROOM IS TOO THIN IT CAN’T CARRY MY FATASS!” “LANGUAGE! But no, it *can* hold your weight.”

sippy dreads vargas’s class because he pushes her more than anyone else.

⤷ “lift some more weights! your arms are like noodles!” vargas says, as he dumps some more shit into her arms-

KALIM AL ASIM ᝰ.ᐟ

pin-cha and kalim is like the worst nightmare for jamil, who’s already acting like a single mom who works two jobs who loves her kids and never stops-

yes, they go on carpet rides together🥺💓 pin-cha reminds kalim of one of his siblings back at home so they hit it off pretty well!

jamil is a little weirded out how well pin-cha is good at household chores but is also secretly relieved (and concerned) how pin-cha is babysitting kalim and not the other way around /hj

CHEKA KINGSCHOLAR ᝰ.ᐟ (NOT A SHIP ART!!)

RRAAAGHSGSHHSHGSHSG FINALLY SOMEONE MENTIONS CHEKAAAAA!! THEY’RE BESTFRIENDS, YOUR HONOR😭✨

cue leona thanking the gods for giving cheka someone to play with so he can finally nap in peace LMAO

cheka drags pin-cha away from his cleaning duties in rsa! the headmage of rsa adores them both (happy grandpa noises) <3

cheka enjoys when pin-cha shows his unique magic, summoning little spirits around to play with them. it’s like having extra friends to play!

yes, they both call leona “unca”💀 leona had to call sippy over to help him babysit them both (an excuse to be with her I MEAN WHAAATTT⁉️ I DIDN’T SAY ANYTHING-)

THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR THE ASK, TARU!!💖💖 SO SORRY FOR THE LATE AND VERY LONG REPLY😭🙏 I had a lot of fun with this ask though I can’t find the link to the OG post anymore :((

I swear this whole post looks like some character who is liked by everybody but I promise you it’s not the case😭 she just has a good impression on the professors AHUSHSUGSYSI BUT ANYWAY I’ll list some characters who doesn’t like sippy (but i’ll leave the reasoning out for now👀)

⤷ ruggie

⤷ sebek

⤷ idia

⤷ jamil (kinda like a hate-neutral relationship?)

With that said, thank you again for the ask!!🥺💖🫶🫶

[shittyness]

I posted 599 times in 2022

That's 237 more posts than 2021!

114 posts created (19%)

485 posts reblogged (81%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@cyanroads

@the3rddenialist

@neonwizardheehee

@fearforthestorm

@shittyness

I tagged 310 of my posts in 2022

Only 48% of my posts had no tags

#ask - 17 posts

#<- prev tags - 13 posts

#empires smp - 12 posts

#grian - 12 posts

#theories - 11 posts

#evo smp - 10 posts

#<- prev - 9 posts

#evo - 9 posts

#the watchers - 8 posts

#anonymous - 8 posts

Longest Tag: 139 characters

#i have 2-3 copies of every book (well just one of eacg accompany book like demigod diaries) but i have 3full copies of the main books ofhoo

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

Oli released a new video

spoilers ahead

that bit with Pearl is the part I was most interested by

so as you may or may not know sausage made Pearl canonically god of afterlife and when he died the final time he went to live with her in her Hermitcraft season 8 base while in her empire skin (that’s not really relevant rn but I feel like I can do something with it later) 

and then when Oli went up there he was shocked at the amount of her and sausage’s player heads were just around and was put off by her explanation of they had a legendary battle and sausage is now sleeping

and when Pearl invited him to stay in heaven with them he sounded scared like she was going to hurt him and he ran off

if you’ve watched Pearls empires pov (or sausage’s tbh) you know that she was a fighter she loved to battle and spar and was constantly changing that high of battle, she didn’t even really care if she lost half the time she just wanted to fight

this is proven in her first fight with Xornoth because after he finally managed to kill her using admin abilities and creative she wasn’t upset she lost at all she was more upset at the fact he wouldn’t actually fight her but hardly that

she knows sausage and by now (especially after the epic battle) they most likely know each other’s fighting styles extremely well so although she probably still loves fighting sausage when a new challenger approached she was excited to say the least

but he left to go be alive, so she sent him to where she last was empire’s smp 

I have a couple ideas on why she might have done this (if it was her that is)

1) he wanted his friends and a lot of the people from afterlife are on empires so it would be familiar faces even if they don’t know him

2) she wanted to use him to keep an eye on her friends as she wasn’t there this time

3) maybe she sent him as her champion/angel to try to keep another demon off the server

4) I don’t think it would be this one but maybe it was to try to get him to be ready to join her in heaven cuz he ran away from her in fear

or maybe it’s something else entirely I don’t know yet

and I really hope I get more then a day before this is proven wrong this time

I am really excited to see where this is going and to see what oli knows

and I’ll probably go into different parts of the episode later but this is a Pearl post I like talking about pearl ok?

70 notes - Posted August 10, 2022

#4

NEW THOUGHT NEW THOUGHT 

ok ok so, you know how when you get stressed it’s harder to keep calm and and shit?

What if Grian gets more watcher-like when he gets stressed

if we run with the “the watchers are evil and he ran away” thought process, then it would make sense that he would have anxiety whenever he thought of them

Then he would start having more watcher features show up; his eyes/wings turn purple, he gets more eyes, etc

and with those showing up, he’d get more anxious and get more features, turning into a spiral of he can’t calm down until he isn’t in his watcher form, and he can’t get out of watcher form until he calms down

even if we go with the “the watchers aren’t evil, just chaotic fucks/ overbearing parents and Grian left just cuz he wanted to” it still works

It works because Grian would be afraid of how the other hermits would react

he has no idea if they know what a watcher it, if they’ve met one before, or their opinions on them

so he’d be afraid of scared or disgusting his new friends just for what he is

thus the spiral again

Maybe eventually the other hermits start to find out, by either he tells them or they walk in on him in the midst of a spiral

Pearl would know by the time she showed up -cuz she is a watcher- 

none of them would really mind, I think at most Scar would be mock offended Grian didn’t tell him sooner, and then go into a million questions 

but even after they all know, he still get anxious when he starts to turn, so he has really good control of his emotions

Credit to this amazing cosplay for the inspiration 

95 notes - Posted November 11, 2022

#3

GUYS I THOUGHT OF SOMETHING WITH JIMMY

OK OK SO

throughout empires season 1 there was a popular thought that Joel, the mad king of Mezalia, was a terracotta statue 

and at the end I saw a post, I think it was fanart, about Joel trying to make his friends out of terracotta, but over time as he tries to perfect them he forgets how they’re supposed to look

Jimmy was one of Joel’s friends

Jimmy was the only one that looked really close to the original 

Jimmy came to life, but wasn’t the same as the Cod Father

After a while, Joel couldn’t take it anymore, he couldn’t stand to be near the terracotta Jimmy 

So he left, and right as he died, Pearl brought him to god-hood

and after thousands of years, he began to forget about the terracotta Jimmy, he began to resent the man he once was

Jimmy knows what happened with Joel, his only friend, and resents him for leaving hime behind

Eventually Jimmy set out to find the now god Joel, and give him a piece of his mind

On his travels he runs into Scott and his new magic eye, Scott can tell that Jimmy isn’t human, and is made of some type of magic

The two start talking and Jimmy tells Scott about Joel and his mission to find him

Scott doesn’t forget this, and refuses to accept Joel as a god

By the time Jimmy finally finds Joel, he has almost completely forgotten him

but he knows what Jimmy is, and he hates the reminder of his past life

and Jimmy obviously hates him for leaving him behind, and forgetting him

But he choses to be the bigger person and he goes off and becomes the sheriff of the mesa

Joel, upon finding this out, takes this opportunity to continuously remind Jimmy he isn’t human and never will be human

Jimmy doesn’t like it but figures Joel will stop eventually

that is until he calls Jimmy a toy in front of his friends, and then it starts to make them believe it too

and when he starts to protest it Joel just doubles down

turning it from a joke to a curse

he can’t admit admit it, he can’t give Joel the satisfaction

nor can he truly accept that he never was and never will be human

So now anytime he starts turning into a toy, he stops it then and there; re-sculpting a new terracotta arm, removing the pull string and hiding it, etc

he isn’t human, but he isn’t a toy either, not yet at least

115 notes - Posted November 6, 2022

#2

i'm trying to figure out what relationship grian has with the watchers (that i like better)

we have the basic: the watchers kidnapped him! and traumatized him! and while i love love that one, it's amazing for like angst and shit. but if you actually watch the Evo end poem, you have to admit that grian did choose to join the watchers, so the most you can say is that he didn't feel like he had a choice

so i'm gonna take that and change it a bit

when the watchers offered grian a spot in their ranks, they did give him a choice, but didn't tell him the full truth. they told him all of the powers he would gain, but none of the draw backs. they promised him the world, but didn't tell him the chains that would hold him to it. basically gave him an offer he couldn't refuse and he took the bait, hook, line, and sinker.

that's still good for lore/angst, but addresses that grian choose to be a watcher (also it seems like something the watchers would do)

or my other one was, grian joins the watchers and it goes as he expected and the watchers are kinda like panicked parents who are slowly regretting their choice to adopt him. while at the same time he's rubbing off on them and they're becoming more chaotic (maybe they yoink pearl so grian is less lonely)

i like that cuz it's kinda funny, no angst here, just good ol family dynamics

124 notes - Posted March 15, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

i really hope all of scott and pearls deaths are scotts fault

i hope pearl takes her time, makes friends and allies, only goes after like surface iron, and almost never gets herself in danger

and when scott gets in trouble she eats food and works to regen their hearts

because i want scotts downfall to be his own fault

i don’t want him being able to blame pearl for his deaths, or his health losses, he doesn’t want his soulmate but i hope she still works hard for the both of then

289 notes - Posted June 19, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

[thewritetofreespeech]

Could I request the Obey Me guys as well as the Now Dateables?

Perhaps M/C crawling into bed with them wanting to be held and to be touched.

Perhaps a little nsfw added in 🤤😉

note: this is the only imagine/scenario I will do for all 11 boys. cuz I’m a thirsty bitch. the rest of the time we will stick to the rules of HCs only.

Additionally, the plot has been changed slightly to ‘coming to their room at night’. Sorry. If you want NSFW stuff for a specific boy, based on the provided content, I’ll do it but 11 boys is too much even for my thirsty trappy ass.

Obey Me Boys + MC Crawling into Bed with Them

Lucifer

Lucifer sighed over his paper work. Would his turmoil never cease? 

Sometimes he felt like he had fallen into a lower level of the Devildom. Like the 13th circle of hell where the preferred torture method for lost souls was endless paperwork. A modern day Sisyphus, only instead of a boulder it was forms.

He heard the door to his room quietly click open & then close. He doesn’t look up from his paper work as he knew who it was. There was only one person, ok maybe two, who would come into his room this late at night without knocking. “What is it [Y/N]?”

“I was um...wait, you wear reading glasses?”

Lucifer frowned and looked up from his paper work now. “Magical reading glasses. For reading magical text.” They were required to read some of the magical scripts he was combing over. “What is it [Y/N]?”

The human squirmed a little when he asked again. Seeming to think over the answer, or more precisely how to explain it. “I couldn’t sleep.” They finally confess. “I was wondering if I could stay in here with you, but....you’re busy.”

Lucifer arched a brow slightly, but then moved some of the papers he had completed to make space for them. “Come on. I won’t be much longer.”

[Y/N] smiled at him and scampered over. Crawling in under the silk sheets, and as close as possible to him with him on top of them as they could. “Thank you Lucifer.”

“Of course, my dearest one.” He replied with a soft smile, leaning down to kiss the top of their head before returning to his work. Renewed in his commitment to get this done so he could spend the night with [Y/N].

Mammon

It was late. It was almost 3:00 in the morning by the time he got home, and it had been a shitty night.

Mammon had been at the casino. Gambling, drinking, dancing, the usual. His luck turned sour around 11:00 and, stupid Mammon, had spent the remaining four hours trying to turn it around. That of course didn’t work so now he was even more broke, defeated, and feeling like crap for his failure; regretting Lucifer finding out and making him feel worse. Fuck it had been the worst night.

He rounded the corner to his room and looked up in surprise to see [Y/N] at his door. “What are you doing here?” His voice seemed to surprise them too as they jumped a little before turning to him.

“Oh I was…coming to see if you wanted to hang out?”

“Hang out?” Mammon repeated with an arched brow. “Ya know it’s like 3:00 in the morning, right?”

“O-Oh…is it? I guess I miss read the time.” [Y/N] began to fidget, then muttered some apology about going back to their room.

The demon reached out and caught their hand before they could get far. “Hey, what’s wrong? Nobody comes out here in the middle of the night without a reason.” Or they were out super late like him.

[Y/N] looked down, then decided to tell the truth. “I couldn’t sleep. So I wanted to see you.”

Mammon blinked behind his shades. He hadn’t been expecting that. Now it was his turn to fidget as he realized out of all the people in the world, [Y/N] had chosen to come see him.

“Yeah well…of course ya’d come to the Great Mammon for help. I uh…guess you can stay in here with me tonight.”

He showered to get the smoke & stink of shame off before crawling into bed with [Y/N]. His little human already drifting off just being in his covers. Mammon wrapped his arms around them and held them close. Maybe it wasn’t the worst night after all.

Levi

Of course he was awake when [Y/N] came to his room. The latest install of Kenji Momotaro: Demon Slayer Warrior Prince had just been released that day, and Levi he been playing it since he had gotten his hands on it. He wouldn’t be sleeping for a while.

When he heard the knock on his door, initially missing it over the sound of his game and tunnel vision, Levi paused for the first time in hours to go see who it was. “[Y/N]-chan?”

“Can…I stay in here with you?” They asked. Catching Levi by surprise. “I can’t sleep in my room.”

The blunette blushed violently, and covered his face. “Y-Y-You….You want to sleep in here with me??”

“Is…that ok?” They asked cautiously. Seeming let down by his reaction.

“No. I mean! Yes! W-What I mean is, I’m not going to bed right now. I’m grinding through my new game so….you might not be happy in here.” Plus, his bed was a bathtub. Which was only comfortable to him.

“Oh. Well…I don’t want to mess up your game. If that’s more important to you.”

“That’s not what I meant!” Levi outburst. Then quickly covered his mouth in embarrassment. “I…I just don’t think you’ll get a lot of sleep in here. I only like my room after all.”

“I like your room.” If Levi turned any redder, he was going to get a nose bleed. “It’s dark, which is nice. Plus the aquariums are really soothing. And…you’re there. I just wanted to be around you since I couldn’t sleep, but I guess that’s silly.”

The demon had to cover his mouth again. This time over threat of nose bleed. He was so red from embarrassment, but also incredibly moved by [Y/N]’s words, that he quickly responded, “you can stay with me.”

He moved aside and let [Y/N] in. Leading them over to his game area where he laid out some plushies as a bed, and pulled out a blanket to cover them. “I-I-I…I’m gonna keep playing since I’m not tired. But I’ll put my headphones on so I don’t disturb you. Y-Y-You can lay down here and i-i-if you fall asleep I won’t mind.”

“Thanks Levi.” He had to gulp at the cute sleepy way they said his name, before they tucked in and he went back to his game.

He couldn’t concentrate for the rest of the game, with [Y/N] so close. Choosing to use his leg as a pillow. Eventually he gave up and leaned back against the edge of his tub, not daring to disturb them and actually getting a good night sleep as well.

Asmo

There were few things that Asmo considered sacred. Love. Vitality. The Louis Vuitton spring collection.

But the one thing he considered sacred most of all, was his beauty sleep regiment.

The Avatar of Lust had a strict sleep schedule to give his body the best rejuvenation possible, and amplify his beauty. Everyone knew about it, and choose to leave Asmo alone; per his wishes.

Which was why it was so frustrating when his rest was disturbed by a knock at the door.

Asmo grumbled under his sleep mask at the light rapping that wouldn’t go away. Irritated by the noise, and now the worry lines whoever it was was putting into his forehead. He pushed his mask up to his hair line and got up out of bed towards the door. “What?!” He said in a not cute, very moody outburst when he opened it. Seeing [Y/N] standing there, startled by his ugly display. “Oh, [Y/N]-kun. It’s you.”

“Y-Yeah. Yeah it’s me. Sorry to wake you, I’ll just…go.”

“Wait [Y/N]! I’m sorry. If I had known it was you paying me a late night visit, I would have been much nicer and answered the door sooner.”

“Well I….couldn’t sleep so…-“Ahhhh~! You couldn’t sleep so you decided to come to me?? How naughty!”

[Y/N] frowned and turned to leave, but Asmo apologized quickly for being cheeky. “Did you want to stay with me tonight? That’s why you’re here, isn’t it?” He could tell he was right, but the human was second guessing themselves on coming here. “I promise I’ll behave. Really.”

[Y/N] seemed to trust them, and came into the room & into bed with Asmo. He was practically giddy with them being so close, but was true to his word and supplied no funny stuff for the evening. Just rest and cuddles.

In the morning, he couldn’t wait to tell his brothers how he slept with [Y/N] last night. Causing quite the intentional misunderstanding and ruckus over breakfast that day.

Satan

Satan was getting ready for bed. Pjs on, teeth brushed, uniform set out for tomorrow, and on his bed reading one last chapter of his latest book, when he heard the knock at the door.

At first he thought it was a branch hitting the glass of his window. But when he heard it again, he knew it was at his door, and had a very The Raven moment before he went to answer it.

“[Y/N]? What are you doing here? It’s so late.”

“I know, I know,” the replied, scratching the back of their head. “I just…I couldn’t sleep. I tried but I just couldn’t get to sleep, and wanted to see you.” They look up at him with big doe eyes and ask, “can I stay with you tonight?”

Of course, he couldn’t say no. Not with a look like that. Or more importantly, he’d never say no to [Y/N]. Satan offered them a soft smile and nodded before letting them in.

“What were you reading?” They asked, as the climbed into bed first. Watching Satan put his book away for them.

“Oh, just a new fiction series I found. Simeon recommended it to me.” He said as he climbed into bed as well.

“What’s it about?”

He told them the premise of the story, and eventually read aloud the first few chapters to them as they curled up beside him. Falling asleep soon after.

Satan smiled again, and put the book back away, before leaning down to kiss their forehead and curl in beside them. Ready for bed now.

Beel

It was pretty late when he heard the knock on the door. And a miracle he heard it at all.

Belphie was the sleeper out of the two of them, but Beel wasn’t exactly a light sleeper either. Between his workouts, large meals, and having to get up early for his morning workouts, the red head was usually dead to the world when his head hit the pillow. But, still, when he heard the quite knock on the door he woke up. 

If he were a thinker like Satan or the others, he would have thought that it was maybe their bond that woke him. Instead he just trudged half asleep towards the door to open it. “[Y/N]?”

“S-Sorry....” They apologize and look towards the ground as Beel looked at them curiously. “I knew you were asleep, but I still woke you up. I’m sorry.”

“Is something wrong?” Beel asked. A bit more awake now that he knew it was them and they seemed distressed. [Y/N] shrugged. “Did you have a bad dream?” 

They pause for a while, but then shrug again. He might not be a thinker like the others, but he was smart enough to know what that meant. He reached out to take their hand and pulled them into his room. Leading them over to his bed and pulling them onto it.

“Don’t worry. You can stay here.” Beel said, holding [Y/N] to his chest in a horizonal hug. “I’ll keep you safe. You don’t have to worry while I’m here. Go back to sleep.”

His words seem to do the trick, and [Y/N] feel back asleep. Beel stayed awake a little while longer. Combing his fingers through their hair, before he too fell back asleep.

Belphie

He heard the conversation from the door, but didn’t bother getting up.

The only thing that could break through when he was asleep was Beel and [Y/N]’s voice. So hearing them both woke him up pretty quickly, although it seemed to be handled. 

He tried to go back to sleep after hearing you settle in, but it didn’t work. The usually lazy demon kept fidgeting in his sleep, trying to get comfortable, and even counting sheep to try and go back to dream land. Nothing worked. And he knew why.

Belphie got up out of bed, hugging his pillow to his chest, and walked over to the over bed across the room and kicked it. When Beel and [Y/N] looked up at him half asleep he demanded, “move over.” He couldn’t sleep know that [Y/N] was cuddling up with someone else and not him. Especially in the same room.

[Y/N] huffed in their sleep and laid back down, scooching closer to Beel to try and make space. Beel, on the other hand, smile sleepily up as his twin and properly moved over; back pressed against the wall with [Y/N] at his chest to give him as much space as possible.

Belphie smiled back at him, then dropped his pillow to climb in. Instantly falling asleep. Holding on to his twin and beloved [Y/N] for the rest of the night.

Simeon

Early to bed, early to rise, makes a man healthy, wealthy, and wise. Those were the words that Simeon tried to live by

He was just about to slip under the covers happily, when he heard a small knock at the door. It was so faint & small, that he assumed it was Luke needing something. So he quickly went over to answer it without putting his robe on.

“Oh…[Y/N]….” The angel said, feeling his cheeks heat up and clinching for his imaginary robe to cover his pjs, when he realized it was you. “What are you doing here?”

He didn’t mean in the Hall. You were stay in the other dorm for a while as an infestation of some icky, demon creepy crawly, that just loved to nibble on humans was dealt with in the House of Lamentation. Luke of course had been thrilled you were staying with them, insisting that the change be made permanent to keep you away from those rowdy demons. Simeon couldn’t really agree on the demon part, but he wouldn’t be disappointed if you stayed here more.

“I…couldn’t sleep,” you tell him. “New surroundings and all. I was…wondering if I could stay in your room?”

The angel seemed to bristle in surprise at your words. Taken aback, but also in the warm feeling that was spreading through his chest. God have mercy…..

“I don’t know if that would be appropriate.”

“Please?” [Y/N] beckoned. He had to gulp down the lump, and instantaneous urge to say yes, building in his throat. “I just don’t want to sleep alone. I keep thinking about those things in my room back at the dorm. And being around you is so comforting. Just for tonight? I’ll sleep on the couch and everything if that’s a problem.”

“I wouldn’t let you do that.” Simeon insisted. He would never let them sleep on the couch like some vagabond. “Well….alright. But just for tonight. And just because you’re feeling unsettled.” He doesn’t know who he was trying to convince more: them or himself.

He didn’t get much sleep that night. Tense, and trying to remain appropriate even is they slept next to him. But, in a way, it was the best night he had ever had.

Solomon

He always stayed up late. The late to early morning hours were the best time for magic. The witching hour. He was knee deep into his research & spell casting when he heard the knock at the door.

“I..saw the light on…” [Y/N] said when he opened the door. “Are you…going to bed soon?”

Solomon blinked for a moment, then looked down at his pocket watch. Oh, it was rather late. But….“No. I still have quite a bit of work to do.”

The other human sighed, then turned to leave from his door just as suddenly as they came. “Wait. What is it?” He asked, stopping them.

They turn, and seem to debate about answering before, “I couldn’t sleep and was thinking it might be nice to cuddle with you.” Solomon blinked again. In surprise this time. “Stupid, right?”

No, not stupid, he thought. It was just no on had ever asked to cuddle with him before. His body and cool demeanor might be misleading, but he was a very fierce sorcerer. Powerful, and awe inspiring. He had made cities tremble in his young days, and was powerful enough to independently bind one of the strongest demons in hell. Cuddles were not something that one usually thought of when it came to him.

He opened the door to let them in and said, “if you can’t sleep, I can make you a potion.” When that didn’t seem to go over well he corrected with, “or…I could lay down with you for a moment.”

The ‘moment’ turned into the whole evening, because the second his head hit the pillow, he instantly fell asleep. Lulled to dream land by his many late nights, and the warm embrace of [Y/N]. Perhaps there were better things than just getting research done.

Diavolo

He groaned in his sleep. Then rolled over on his side, immediately pulling [Y/N] in when he was in close proximity of them. It was a reflex at this point.

At first, he had tried to keep his distance from the human exchange student. No good would come from it, and it was inappropriate that the future King & patron of the program would be involved with one of the terrestrial candidates. But he couldn’t help it.

Their brightness. Their smile. Their hope for the program and just life won him over and now he couldn’t stand to be further apart from them than a second.

“It’s morning....”

Divaolo groaned and buried his head into the back of their neck. “Five more minutes...”

“We can’t. It’s morning.” [Y/N] insisted. Jutting their hips back against his front; which had the opposite effect of trying to get him out of bed. “If you don’t go, Barbatos will start looking for you. And if he teleports into my room it will be a whole thing.”

That certainly was a metaphoric splash of cold water.

The prince groaned again, and buried himself deeper for a second, before he compliantly agreed and got up. The little full bed in the student dorms joyful of his departure, as it squeaked happily as he tried to leave it.

“Can I come again tonight?” Diavolo asked, as he adjusted his ornate bed clothes. He never slept in them. Like most things in his life, they were all for show.

[Y/N] smiled at him from under their covers and said, “of course.”

His heart swelled at their smile and the promise of later. Surging forward he gave them an impassioned good morning kiss, and told them, “wait up for me.” Before he disappeared in a whirl of black smoke to his own bedroom.

It felt terribly cold now. But he only had to wait until tonight. That he could live for.

Barbatos

The work of a butler is never really done.

There were always things to do. More chores to complete. More tasks to do. Particularly in the life of the royal butler. But Barbatos never complained about his job. He was literally born for it, and took great pride in his work. No matter how small the task.

When he heard the small bell, harking a summons from on of the guest rooms, Barbatos stopped polishing the silver and immediately went upstairs to see what was needed. “You called, [Y/N]?” He asked upon arrival. Calm as ever, and ready to help. “How may I be of assistance?”

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have called you up here.” They apologized. “I just….couldn’t sleep.”

Barbatos chuckled a little with a soft smile. “No need to apologize, [Y/N]. You’re a guest here, and a friend of the young master.” As well as a dear person to him. “I’m happy to help with anything you need. Might I make you some soothing nightshade tea? That seems to do the trick for most people.”

“N-No. No I…I was wondering….if you’d just sit with me for a while.” The human looked down at the ornate bed spread. Picking at the embroidery in a nervous manner. “Til I fall back asleep?”

The demon smiled again, and came over to sit on the edge of the bed. Holding them in the most comfortable manner possible with him on top of the covers, and them under them. “That is a simple thing.” He told them softly. “Close your eyes. I shall stay with you until you are asleep, and make sure you are taken care of.”

“Thank you.” [Y/N] said lazily. Already closing their eyes and falling back asleep with him close.

The work of a butler was never really done. But this was a task he was happy to do.

[curlynerd]

Months ago I saw a post that was like "Dean finally tells Sam about him and Cas, and Sam trolls him by revealing he's been wearing an 'I love my bi brother' undershirt all this time" and I can't for the life of me find it again, but wherever you are OP, this ficlet is cuz of you.

Sam knew the time was close. The writing was on the wall. Well, to be honest, the writing had been there for a decade, but now it was hung up in bright neon, flashing fluorescent lights. Chuck was defeated, there had been nary a whisper of an apocalypse in over six months, Cas was back, and Dean was happy.

And Sam knew why. He didn’t know know, but he wasn’t an idiot. A lifetime of literal detective work and living in each other’s pockets meant he had some idea of what was going on with Dean.

The way he was always touching Cas’ shoulder. Always laughing at all of the odd, awkward things Cas said. The way Cas openly stared at Dean in a way he hadn’t in years. The way Cas smiled softly when he did, in a way he never had before.

The tense, pregnant silences whenever Sam and Dean were alone. The way Dean’s jaw clenched and he swallowed roughly and his shoulders hunched like he was fighting everything within himself to say something important. Something that terrified Dean.

Sam knew what Dean was trying to say. But he also knew if he so much as hinted that he knew before Dean was ready to tell him, Dean would probably have a breakdown.

So he waited, patiently, watching Dean and Cas flirt with each other like middle schoolers with a crush, always in each other’s space but too afraid to hold each other’s hand in public.

And while he waited, he planned all of the ways he would shamelessly rip on Dean once Dean finally owned up to his feelings for Cas. After a decade of being the third wheel between his emotionally constipated brother and the angel he was crazy for, Sam had earned that right. It was what all good brothers were supposed to do!

They were working a case on a college campus when he spotted it. A folding table under a colorful tailgating tent with half a dozen young people, many with an eclectic style and bright patches and buttons brightening their clothes. It was, he learned right at that moment, some sort of Pride awareness day, different from the month of June, but to be honest he hadn’t kept up with that sort of information since his own college days. But when he saw the shirts they were selling in their fundraiser he grinned from ear to ear. A devious plan began to form.

“You want one?” One of the young people asked, holding up a black shirt emblazoned with colorful text. Sam cringed a little at the “my son” on it, but he acknowledged that he definitely was old enough to have kids at this point.

“No, uh…” He laughed under his breath and pointed out another one. “Can I have this one? Extra large.” Sam paused for a moment, his perfect plan solidifying further. He grinned mischievously. “Actually, I’ll take a couple of ‘em.”

Sam was still laughing to himself as he rolled up the shirts as tightly as possible and snuck them into the inner pocket of his suit jacket.

He hid them deep in his dufflebag in the trunk of the Impala, and no one was the wiser.

As it turned out, the time was not close. Not in the least. Sam wore those damn shirts every single day under his flannels for a month. He was starting to get sick of stealthily washing them.

But he persevered. He knew Dean's reaction would be worth it.

And when the day finally came, Sam almost ruined the moment with his excitement that his prank would finally pay off.

Luckily, Dean was too caught up in fighting his feelings to notice the way Sam was fighting a grin.

“...So...Yeah. That’s the way it is. Me and Cas, we’re...We’re like Frodo and Sam, I guess.”

“Frodo and Sam weren’t gay, Dean.”

Dean broke out of his emotional constipation to level a glare at Sam. “We are not having this argument again! Also I’m not gay!”

“Right. Yeah. I know.” This was it. This was the moment. Sam’s fingers itched to unbutton his flannel, but he waited. He needed absolute perfect timing.

“No, I mean…” Dean sighed and turned away. He started pulling out ingredients from the fridge to make lunch for everyone. And to gather the courage to say something big. A classic play in the book of Dean.

Sam quickly opened his overshirt and held it open so Dean could see the words emblazoned in pink, purple, and blue across his chest.

“I’m trying to say...I’m bi, Sammy.” With trembling voice and tense shoulders, Dean turned around, everything in his face struggling between wide-eyed vulnerability and shutting down and hiding his feelings. His gaze landed on Sam’s shirt.

“I ❤ my bisexual brother.”

The face journey Dean went on was absolutely worth it.

“Are you FREAKING KIDDING ME!?” Dean finally sputtered out when he found his words, his expression somewhere between furious and incredulous. “A SHIRT? You had a shirt made?!”

Sam was too busy laughing to respond. He doubled-over, clutching his stomach, his shoulders shaking.

“I’ve been agonizing over this for months and you’ve already made t-shirts about it?!” Dean brandished the bottle of mustard he was holding like it was some sort of weapon. “You sonuvabitch, I will get you back for this, you hear me?”

That night Sam was up for hours, doing some very important online shopping. Because Sam wasn’t an idiot. He’d seen the way Dean’s eyes lingered at ring displays in the windows of jewelry stores. Hell, he’d seen the curiosity in Cas’ eyes as he stared too. The writing was on the wall. Sam laughed to himself as he hit the checkout button.

“I ❤ my gay brother-in-law.”

[autumnslance]

sorry if you've been asked before, but how did you initially get into roleplaying and learn how to improve at it and be comfortable rping? it seems like something difficult to learn, especially rping in video games, so i'm always interested in how exactly people adjust to it

OK, let me preface by saying I am old enough to remember the Satanic Panic of the ‘80s and actually read Chick Tracts that were at places I went to with my parents. Including the infamous one about Dungeons & Dragons. They were real dumb; even as a church-going kid I knew Christian media was by and large…very There in quality often, so much of it being overtly about morals and messaging (the best really is more subtle or flat-out silly about it, letting the characters and events speak for themselves with only just a little requisite shoehorning to appease their publishing house requirements). And Chick was…something with those hyperbolic comic stories.

So I didn’t get to RP at all until I was an adult (19ish years old), and in the army away from home and was introduced to it via an entirely different gaming system and world I’d never heard of before, the World of Darkness specifically, second edition, and I was a kid who loved supernatural things like werewolves and other shifters a lot. My first RP character ever for a game that only ran once was a Metis Fianna Galliard.

Bless White Wolf, they tried. The old editions have some serious Problems in various ways looking back now with what I’ve learned since, but they Tried.

I went to my first Vampire LARP in Augusta, Georgia while in job training—this was back in the fall/winter of ‘98 and ‘99–and when I got to Kansas I met up with the guys in my unit who RPed Palladium game systems (Rifts, Palladium, Robotech, Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles, etc). My first Vampire: The Masquerade char was a Toreador (artiste vampire). My first Palladium fantasy char was a bardic demigod. Then I settled into a I think half-elf druid in Rifts and was the only one interacting with the GM’s attempts at story while the other guys talked about minmaxing their megadamage and waited for me/my character to point them at things. At the local independent LARP in Kansas I swapped the Toreador for a young Tremere named Lynell Marsden.

My buddy and eventual roommate, the LARP GM, introduced me to a RPG-themed webcomic whose premise made it ripe for online roleplay, which the readership did initially on the old forums in play-by-post, and then also in IRC chat in a series of rooms we had. My main characters were an Amberite soldier-princess and a drow cleric/bard of Eilistraee I brought in from a D&D game after a few years, as I expanded to many, many other gaming systems, like D&D and Shadowrun, and so many others I can’t remember them all. I ended up helping narrate and do admin work for the LARP and the World of Darkness games we ran in our own town as well as at a small local convention we attended for several years.

And dear Anon, I sucked at RP in my 20s.

Cuz I was new and learning. What appealed to Young Me, once properly explained by a peer and seeing the game rule books, was that Roleplay is collaborative improv storytelling. It’s playing pretend—which I’ve always loved to do!—but with an actual ruleset and boundaries. As a writer, it sounded so neat to sit around creating characters and telling stories with friends. The rules were there as randomizer but also to help balance and make sure everyone could contribute (well, once one stopped playing freakin’ Rifts…).

In free form play-by-post, and in the IRC chat, there weren’t really rules like you’d find in a gaming book for at the table; you had whatever rules for the forum or chatroom the mods made, usually about being courteous and communicating, but the characters varied wildly. Each thread or room GM had their own ways to run their stories. Communication was key. Letting others get time in the spotlight. Making attempts, working things out, not being afraid to fail on purpose (even if your character was trying) cuz sometimes that was more interesting. We had some random commands for dice we sometimes used in the chat, but it could depend on who was running that particular session or storyarc.

It took practice. And mistakes I still look back on and wince at myself about, more for the times I hurt others or made things less fun for them, than my own creative errors that weren’t good for my characters (and I made bad choices for my characters aplenty). OK, and also for the times I spent staying up way too late roleplaying, plotting, chatting, when I should have been responsible and sleeping due to work and/or class in the mornings…But I also don’t entirely regret all those lost sleep hours.

LynMars, my common internet handle, comes from that Tremere I played for a few years in my friend’s LARP, before retiring her to play other characters. I made many Baby RPer mistakes on Lynell, she was a learning character, and while I messed her and her story up badly, I still love her as one of my firsts and ended up using her name as a handy online identity and also a reminder to myself.

You don’t have to do or be everything, especially on one character; everyone has specialties and limits, it’s what helps with the collaborative parts and team play. Learn and know your own boundaries. Respect others’ boundaries. Learn OOC doesn’t equal IC but also doesn’t give rein to be a jackass IC in a collaborative setting. Communicate. Be willing to collaborate and compromise. Be willing to lose as often as you win, sometimes the better story comes out of it. Build your characters with some grounding as people; give them flaws (sometimes their virtues taken too far can also count!), let them make mistakes, let them have their own stories so when they interact with other characters, you’re actually improv acting that person, not yourself in a funny hat.

I reconnected with my old webcomic-based group over the pandemic and people still talk fondly of my old characters and stories, and I have some good memories of theirs. A lot of things we all look back at 21-to-13-ish years later now and cringe and laugh at ourselves about, but the memories of those times are still mostly good and about the fun we had together back then, despite the clunky nature of our storytelling, our mishandled character concepts, the wank and stressors, the few bad apples we did have in the old community, the mistakes we made. We still remember the cool stuff and how it made us feel and why we sought each other out again to just say Hi. And in some cases, ended up playing games together again.

My experiences in forum and chatroom RP made the jump into MMO RP in WoW (back in Classic!) fairly easy, honestly. It was pretty much the same thing, only we had actual avatars and environments and in-built emotes as well as whatever gestures or settings we described for when the game didn’t have something. I wrote stories of my characters, many of them still up on my alt blogs, and collaborated on a few stories and RPs with friends.

After several years, some people had weird ideas I was “popular” and “established” and “good” so stirred up wank and jealousy that hit me out of the blue, especially since we were on a small server whose RP community was dying off as folks migrated away (from the server or WoW in general) and we were just among the last RP groups to still hang around out of inertia. They wanted to be a Big Fish in our drying-out pond, and didn’t like that I told them that it takes time and effort to build a story and a group with the reputation they sought, that one has to make time to run events on a regular basis and be there for it even if turn out isn’t great. I hope they’ve figured out what they want to do and better ways to do it since then.

Cuz even after 13ish years of WoW RP on top of all my tabletop and LARP and chatroom experiences, I still made some mistakes. I still sometimes ran and played in some mediocre to bad RP. For my characters and their stories, and in interactions with other RPers.

It’s OK. Learn from those errors, talk it out with your pals and others, keep IC and OOC knowledge and feelings separate, be willing to bend (not break; compromise means all involved parties have to give and get a little) for collaboration and interaction, know who you can only interact with in public RP events with a polite nod and small talk and otherwise not engage with—kinda like in real life, when you have to be tolerant or nice to those irritating classmates or coworkers but otherwise don’t deal with them more than you must.

It’s simply being social, with imagination thrown in. Remembering the stories are pretend, but there are real people behind those words and characters. The nuts and bolts of how to do emotes, which tense to use, whether to use /random or other dice commands…that’s just variable detail that can change as needed. Being a decent person OOC to make an enjoyable story—“good” or “bad”—IC with others is what’s important.

I don’t really RP online now, as I just don’t have the time or energy I used to—especially for the inevitable wank, as Roleplayers are by and large a dramatic bunch with our own hangups, awkwardness, and miscommunications galore (so many callout posts I’ve seen where I’ve wondered if the grievances were IC and came from lack of OOC communication about expectations, boundaries, and blurring the lines between characters and players. So many). These days I stick to my silly nonsense fanfics and some tabletop RP with friends—though due to us being scattered across the continent, we usually end up playing via Roll20 or similar programs to mimic it in an online environment, and even my local group’s had to do that during the pandemic and now with two players moving away soon, on top of the usual trials of being adults making time for games together. I could likely get into FFXIV RP easily enough, here on Tumblr and in game, if I were so inclined.

But it takes time. And constant learning. Figuring out the community norms and methods, which ones work for you, and which don’t. Giving yourself a bit of grace. Knowing your boundaries and respecting others’. Being social and willing to communicate, not being afraid of it, or making assumptions, giving benefit of the doubt—to yourself as much as to others. Patience. And just focusing on the fun and the good and who cares if it’s a bit cringey and weird and silly and dumb with outrageous characters so long as folks are feeling included, treated fairly, and having a good time.

That’s really what’s important.

[angelkurenai]

Heaven on Earth - Dean Winchester x Reader (French Mistake/Soulmates AU)

Title: Heaven on Earth

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Word count: 4,221

Warnings: Spoilers for 15x20 I guess

Prompt: Hey! I love your fics a lot. Especially the French mistake trope ones! I was wondering if you're taking requests cuz if you are I would so love a soulmate french mistake one for the finale.. had been something how you'd give it your own take. If not, it's totally okay I love your work regardless! <3

Imagine instead of dying and going to heaven, Dean is brought back to life by Jack who choses to give Dean the ending he deserves. An ending which he had been hoping to live through but never got the chance. An ending, a life, where he gets to meet his soulmate, you, whose name is written on his wrist and whom he never got to meet simply because you weren’t in the same universe. 

“Huh?” Dean breathed out and blinked several times, letting his eyes adjust to the change of scenery that came a little bit as a shock for all the different kind of reasons than anyone else would expect “Looks like I finally made it. Who would've thought?”

He let an easy smile rest on his lips as he took the scene around him, unfamiliar as it was there was still a great deal of hospitality that made his so comfortable in this lovely tiny living room. It wasn't familiar in any way that meant that he had seen it before but it was something he could very easily get used to, a place to love and call home. So much so that he had to ignore the pang in his chest when he remembered that he couldn't get to show it to his brother, not anytime soon that is. It was something that he would have to accept, no matter how hard it proved to be.

“Weird.” he mumbled, approaching a window and looking outside, the city although again not familiar, looking as calm and normal as it could be “I don't remember this one.”

The change of scenery while, yes, expected after one's death – and Dean was no stranger to the concept – did make him frown at what he was really coming face to face with. “Did they change things around here?”

He asked practically at nobody but that didn't mean that he wouldn't receive an answer “Well, to be fair I do think that chair was by the other side of the room. And those books, she must have moved them too.”

“Son of a-” Dean jumped in surprise and soon pressed his fist against his mouth to stop himself from continuing that sentence. Before he even had the chance to wonder if it was even right to swear in a place like this, all words died out in his lips when he turned to face the person that spoke up.

“Jack?” he whispered, almost in disbelief; his eyes widening.

“He-hello-” a small huff left Jack's lips when Dean closed the distance and enveloped the boy in a hug which he returned “Hello Dean, it's good to see you again. Though I don't believe it has been that long.”

“Yeah” Dean laughed “Way to rub it in my face how I fucked it up so soon huh?”

“You never... I never said you did, Dean.” Jack frowned slightly, tilting his head to the side “You've done great. You have done so in fact your entire life, even when it was exceptionally hard, even when other men would have given up. You kept going. And, yes, it might have been rather painful sometimes and exhausting and seemed never-ending, but it did. It ended. And this is what you get, this is your ending Dean. Peace. I-” Jack paused, looking around “I wanted to do some things differently but it is not all up to me, there are rules to the universe and how it works. Balance you see. So, I'm... sorry that Sam can't be here, not yet at least.”

“Alright kid, don't make me tear up already, will ya?” he joked but looked away when he felt the pang in his chest again. Heaven or no heaven, he was dead and Sam was alone. Miracle too. And oh that still hurt and it would hurt for a long while.

He cleared his throat and spoke up again, instead “Ah yeah, pretty much got that. But no, no Jack you've- you've done more than just enough. Not that there are a lot of options for the other side, but given everything this is really the best one so- thank you. This- this is good. Real good.” Dean looked at his friend, trying to convey as much of his gratitude as possible. For what he didn't know where to begin with, especially after everything that Jack had done but maybe more than anything it was about how Sam wasn't there with him. Not yet, and hopefully not before he'd lived a full and happy life.

“You're welcome. You deserve it.” Jack shrugged once more, smile bright on his face.

“So you uh you stayin' or will you be gone soon? This place is kind of... strange to me, but I'm sure there must be a kitchen somewhere. Could get you something?” he suggested, already making his way around the place while trying to figure out where the kitchen was. It was a small apartment though so it didn't take long for him to figure it out; Jack closely following along.

“Uhm no I won't be staying long, I just wanted to come and see if you're all settled, if you've rested and all that.” he shrugged softly.

“Well, I'm more or less dead, so hey-” he actually found himself chuckling and ignoring the frown that set on Jack's face “Can't get any more rest than that, right?” he opened the fridge and started looking for a beer, speaking again before Jack had the chance to do so and voice his concerns “So uh, love what you did with the place. What was it really again?” he pointed to the living room's direction as he closed the fridge, setting the pie and a beer in front of him.

“Oh uh-” Jack blinked, looking towards the living room “I told you, it wasn't really me. (Y/n). She must have moved around some of the furniture. I'm pretty sure the books too.”

He tried not to let it show. He prayed that it didn't show. He knew that that Jack wouldn't question it, but that didn't mean that it wasn't there. That it didn't happened. That his heart didn't do that same crazy jump and his hand, if not his entire being, shook at the mention of the name. Jack didn't even blink and as he brought the beer to his suddenly dry lips he thought that maybe he'd gotten the hang of it after practically a lifetime. A lifetime without a soulmate that is. And the thought slipped in his mind like it always did and he bit the inside of his cheek to get himself under control. Jack didn't know and Dean was far from in the mood to talk about another, if not the most, painful chapter of his life. Maybe... hopefully he had gotten better with the years and none of it showed.

“No uh that's not exactly what I meant, buddy. But never mind.” he could feel his throat closing, his body betraying him with that same unbearable grief only an empty side of the bed could bring, so he made sure to speak up before it got the best of him the way it usually did “You creating angels now too?”

“Angels?” Jack frowned before he shook his head, clearly confused “No, I- Not yet. But... (Y/n) is not an angel. She's human.” another soft shrug.

And there was the name again, for the second time in less than a minute. Too much too soon for Dean to take. He found himself sitting in one of the two only chairs in the kitchen. His hand found its way to his wrist, subconsciously rubbing over the ink that covered his skin ever since he was a teen. Maybe it brought some kind of comfort, got him the chance to feel like you were close by and offering him comfort yourself when in reality all he had was your name and, thank heavens, no line over it. He didn't know how he'd get to deal with the fact if he was ever to see a line. He was thankful that at least up until the moment he died the words were there, solid and beautifully curved to form your name, until the very last moment he was able to feel their warmth. Up until it all was enveloped in darkness. His life had not had many advantages or comforts, but knowing that you were safe (even if far away from him) was more than enough to make up for all of it.

Though that thought now brought about another storm of dangerous, if not painful, ideas. Ideas about how you were going to deal with his death. Dean was and would always be weak about you, even if he'd never met you. He didn't know how he'd take it and now he had to consider, think and imagine how you'd deal with a line over his name on your wrist.

The mere thought made his heart twist painfully in his chest quiet similar but also so different to any other time. To hurt you was the last thing he'd ever want. And knowing that he had inevitably caused that, well, it would make resting ten times more hard.

“Humans making changes around heaven, wow. Jack you're really stepped up your game up here.” he went for nonchalant and hoped it worked.

“Humans...” Jack narrowed his eyes with a tilt of his head before it seemed to dawn on him and his eyes widened softly “Dean... you're right, there have been changes in heaven. I felt like it was time to move on, that it was time for things to be done different by someone who cares. By someone who wouldn't abandon it all and not care to listen. It's exactly why I asked for Castiel's help, anyway.” the name caught the hunter's attention and he did pause to frown but Jack didn't stop his words, he kept talking “We changed things so that heaven wouldn't about reliving your favorite memory. It would be simply about living. Living on forever and about to make new memories.”

“So that's what it was huh? And here I wondered when-”

“B-But this is not about any of it! That's what you don't get.” Jack said fast enough, cutting Dean off who blinked in surprise.

“Do I have to ask what it is or will you just go off rambling again? You seem to be on a roll today.” he took a sip of his beer, his lips pulling into a smile that he could barely feel in all honesty.

Just following along some very familiar, painfully familiar, steps. Making small talk about anything and everything that his mind could come up with, was one of them. Anything as long as his treacherous heart stopped with the painful beats. But the echo of your name in his head didn't seem to want to die out and he had to try harder.

That is if Jack didn't-

“It's simple.” he smiled sweetly “(Y/n).”

“A-Alright-” his voice shook and he hated himself for letting it show, but he was a weak man deep down and there was only so much he could take “Listen buddy. I don't know what's happened with you or who this-” he choked on his words.

Oh dear, he choked on his words. That had not happened to him in years, and yet here he was. Unable to say the name of the soulmate he had never met. Unable to say the name of the woman whom he dreamed about every night, coming up with you'd look like, what you'd be like in and out. He choked because while it has been a long time, he could still not fight the longing or ache in his soul whenever h heard the name. And best, or maybe worst, of all is that he couldn't fight the hope that rose in his chest. So many cases, so many places visited and whenever he heard that name he both prayed and feared it was you.

So many times he got his hopes up. And so many times all those hopes turned into mere dust, slipping through his fingers. Each time more painful than the previous. Leading, ultimately, to a life without you.

Really, he could only take so much after hearing your name so many times in only a few seconds. He just couldn't do it to himself, couldn't bring himself to say it. He took a deep breath in and clenched his fists “I don't know who that chick is, or what you've really trying to do here. I'm just thankful for everything you've done because this-” he looked around him with a fond smile “This place is more than good for him. It is, both literally and figuratively, heaven.”

“Well, that's just it.” Jack tilted his head to the side “This... is not heaven.”

“Oh yeah? Well, it sure as heck doesn't seem like hell either. Unless they did some general uh renovations?” he asked, almost playfully, as he looked around with a nod of his head “Oh yes, lovely color on that wall right there. Goes well with the-”

“(Y/n) picked it.” Jack shrugged, the name effectively managing to close Dean's mouth shut - and he almost glared at the boy for thinking that he could be doing it on purpose at this point “And this-” he turned back to Dean, face still serious “Is not hell either.”

Oh really now? Then, it does seem like pur-

“No, Dean.” Jack said firmly, cutting him off “You- you're not dead.”

“Uh you sure about that buddy? Cause I think I can remember pretty vividly that I got impaled. Like, Olaf from Frozen style and all.” Dean scoffed a small laugh, taking a sip of the beer. And boy, was he dead, but that still tasted good enough.

“Well, yes but actually no. See, you were on the brink of death but that doesn't mean you have really died. I saw it. I saw it all, I was there and kept you alive or, well, almost-dead long enough for Sam to... give you a hunter's funeral and then for me to put you back together, to heal every would and bring you here.” a smile slowly spread on his lips “This other world. To live in. To make new memories as I told you.”

“What- What's that supposed to mean?” Dean's voice got more gruff as realization start to dawn on him that Jack was very much serious about all of it “And, anyway, didn't destroy every other world there was?”

“When I brought everyone back on your world, I- I was able to do the same with every other world he had destroyed. Including this one. Dean, I mean-” he laughed softly “Did you really think, that after everything you'd been through, after everything you'd given for that world, after all the people you'd saved that I- I would just be another version of Chuck that let that be your ending? You deserve this. You deserve to live this life, a life where you have all you really want. I mean Sam is not here, sure, but soon I hope I will be able to come here too.

“Hold up. You really mean to say that I- I'm- I'm alive?” Dean frowned deeply when Jack nodded “Then wh-what the hell am I doing here? Why the fuck am I not back home? What kind of shitty game-”

“Because you can't. It's- It disrupts balance. Anything hat dies must stay dead, that's a rule that has been broken too many times and we couldn't bear it anymore. However, here-” he looked around him with a smile “You can be alive. And you can live a long, happy life. Without regrets.”

At this point Dean had every reason to think the kid was doing it on purpose. First mentioning your name so often and now, now this was not just pouring alcohol into an open would but rather tearing it open even more. Because yes, he had many regrets in life. Far more than he could ever count. Some of them he was or could get to overcome easily so. But his biggest ones? The ones related to you would always be there, though, and they would always haunt him worse than his nightmares.

“Why here then? What does this world have that I could possibly want so much as to-”

But before Dean could ever get to complete his sentence, let alone get a reply - one that wouldn't really cause him a heart attack - the door burst open with a loud thud. Dean jumped in his place, a frown on his face and worry starting to slip into his very own bones when Jack rose from his seat with a smile. But before he could even bring himself to question it, he moved away from his seat and made his way to the door with only a few long strides. Only to be met with the sight of one too many bags from the market, filled to the brim with food and other essentials, and the sound of an annoyed -but entirely adorable if he could say so -grumbling and cursing.

“Bloody idiots. Ignorant people. Fucking idiocy more infinite than the whole damn universe. Worse than the pandemic itself.” he saw you pull the mask you were wearing away angrily, only to look more cute in Dean's eyes and alright, a bit more than just cute because he was not dead after all and if did run into you anywhere else he would gladly try his luck, but this was far from an ideal situation, especially as you-

“No wonder Chuck would wanna snap those away. Heck wouldn't I-” but your words were cut off as a screamed ripped through your lips the second you closed the door and turned towards them, probably for the first time realizing they were there and as expected the bags you were holding fell from your hands.

“What the fuck?!” you yelped, hand pressed over your chest as you stared at him with wide eyes.

“Whoa whoa it's ok, calm down. Calm down. We're not gonna hurt you. It's alright, we-”

“Calm down!? You almost gave me a freaking heart attack dude! Because when I said that I would die a happy woman if I were to meet Jensen Ackles even once after that finale, the scenario of chapter one of a bad soulmates fanfic is not what I had in mind! You- You-” you looked around after trying to take a few calming breathes “You just broke into my apartment.” you almost whispered in disbelief “Have you gone insane, man? Who the hell is 'we'?”

“Oh, right. She can't see me.” Jack told him only afterwards and Dean rolled his eyes at his friend.

“Oh great, thanks for the heads up, buddy.” he muttered to his friend. He shook his head before dragging a hand down his face. He then looked at you, finally taking a good look at you and trying not to let his confusion show at the weird flip his heart did “Listen, I'm not crazy, I swear. I'm sure this may look very confusing and hard to explain but I can assure you that once you hear me out, everything will make sense. Just- just don't scream again, yeah? Or freak out or anything.”

“Nah it's cool. I mean why would I freak out? Because the actor I, more or less, look up to and have been a fan of for years is standing in the middle of my crappy and messy living room, dressed as my favorite character on top of that. Without any previous warning or time for me to prepare. Yeah, pff-” you scoffed, waving your hand “Why would I freak out? I can be calm. It's not like this is some kind of dream coming true, anyway. I can be the definition of calm this moment. I'm not freaking out.”

“...You're freaking out.” he said after barely three seconds. Letting you take a few deep breaths of air to calm yourself down, because apparently you needed it. Even if he didn't understand why.

“I'm definitely freaking out.” you admitted, nodding at him as you pressed your lips in an adorable pout which was too distracting if he could admit so to himself after blowing out some air.

“Better now?” he asked hopefully and you held his gaze for a few seconds before shaking your head.

“Definitely not. This might take an hour or two. Or maybe a month? Just- just to let it all settle in you know? I'm dreaming, I definitely must be dreaming. You're just a dream huh? Come on, just admit it. It will be easier to accept. I mean-” you shrugged, looking away with a shrug as you mumbled, mostly to yourself “Wouldn't be the first time.”

“I'm- Sorry, what?” he asked after a few seconds. Maybe Jack was right, this was better than heaven.

“Nothing.” you shook your head fast, and in a far too adorable way “Nothing. I didn't say a thing.” you cleared your throat and looked away from him, letting out a sigh as Dean bit the inside of his cheek to keep himself from grinning like an idiot. Instead, let himself chuckle at your too-adorable ramble that followed “This is- this is insane. If I knew that 2020 would end with me meeting Jensen Ackles then I would have never judged its ability to pull the craziest shit on us.”

“Je- Who?” Dean blinked a couple times though, before letting out a long sight and shaking his head “Really?” he just looked straight at Jack, not caring how crazy he looked at that moment “But of all those worlds, it had to be this one? You know what buddy? Maybe I'd have rather stayed dead.”

“No you wouldn't. I know. So do you.” Jack said with a far-too-knowing smile that made Dean narrow his eyes at him.

“Yeah” you dragged the word, effectively getting his attention - not that it was that hard for you “Sure. Not crazy at all.” you chuckled.

“Not crazy, sweetheart.” he shrugged “And certainly not Jensen Ackles, sorry to disappoint.”

Oh yeah? Then if you're not Jensen who are you? Dean Winchester?” you raised an eyebrow, smile playful on your lips and far too distracting for Dean, but there was no way he would dare admit it.

Confusion passed through his eyes before his interest was peaked “Bingo. You couldn't be more right, sweetheart.”

“Aha sure.” you still chuckled, lips pulling into a smirk that he liked more than he should already “There are cameras set around here, right? Like, of course there are. Is this some kind of goodbye gift though, to the fans for the finale and what not?” you started looking around for said cameras. He momentarily got distracted by the distance that only lessened between the two of you as you moved around him.

He made sure to snap out of it though before he made too much of a fool of himself “Oh don't know what cameras you're talking about but this- it ain't that. It's more complicated than that. As in-” he shrugged “I went on a hunt with Sammy, I died, he burned the body, Jack here whom you cannot see put my back together again am guessing kinda like a human puzzle, stuffed my soul back inside and dropped my ass on your living room without a warning. So, really, it's just as much of a shock to me as it is to you.”

“So you're keeping it up huh? Alright then. I'll go along with it. I am guessing that since I am also part of this story, I should probably introduce myself hm?” you smirked and he shrugged, playful as well.

“Well, it wouldn't be bad anyway. Until you believe me, that is. And Figured I should put a name to the beautiful face.” he tried to seem casual about it but he was anything but “Dean Winchester, pleasure to meet ya. And sorry for crashing in the middle of your apartment like this.”

“Wonderful.” but instead of reaching for his extended hand to shake, you grabbed a grocery bag and handed it to him cheekily “Help me place all these stuff in their place and I might just forgive you.” you shrugged grabbing some of the bags and making your way to the kitchen, only to pause when you realized he wasn't following “What? Saving people, hunting things, the family business, ain't it? Well, there is no monster here to hunt but oh could I use some saving from the terribly exhausting job of cleaning these.”

“You- for real?” he gaped at you in disbelief.

“Hmh. Couldn't be more real. Take the rest, will you?” you grinned at him and started walking towards the kitchen again, leaving him to stare after you and maybe take a few seconds to bathe in the warmth you laughter brought to him. Dean only shook his head, laughing to himself as well before started to grab the rest of the bags, noticing how you'd left the heavier back on purpose.

But it was during moments like this, when he really felt like there would be no troubles and no more thoughts that the world pulled the most cruel kind of jokes on him. And instead of calm, his world fell apart... or in this case fell into perfect place. For the first time now, in his entire life.

“Oh and for you help, a reward is in accord. Name's (Y/n) (Y/l/n), and it is a pleasure.”

Only for Jack to add in a low voice barely three seconds later and verify each and every thought and fear and hope running through his veins in that moment.

“Because this world has the one that can give you the real heaven, on Earth. Your soulmate.”

[robert-de-niro-only-fans]

Dewey Decimal System

Max Cady x Reader in the library, no plot, just smut

Dedicating this little work to @droogiesanddiscourse who just today found out she's graduating with honors!!! I'm so proud of you bb!!!!!!!! ❤️❤️❤️

TW: smut, public sex, explicit/raunchy dialogue, Max Cady in general?

Word Count: 2.2k

“My baby’s so smart, knowing how to find any book in the library,” your boyfriend, Max, coos quietly to you as you saunter through the aisles and aisles of books, softly leading him with his hand in yours. “You know I didn’t learn to read until my stay in the big house, but I never did learn numbers all that well. I’m glad my little princess can navigate this, uh, what do you call it? Dew something?’

“The Dewey Decimal System!” you whisper in a giggle.

“The Dewey Decimal System...” he tried the words out on his tongue, “Well, I’m glad you can lead me in the right direction, angel.”

“Oop, right here!!” you point up at a tall shelf. Max’s body crashes into yours, nearly landing you both on the floor, as you stopped so suddenly.

“Goodness gracious, girlie, you must be excited to do some reading, huh?” his voice rumbles lowly next to your ear. His muscular arms wrap tightly around your midsection, pressing your backside against him. You can feel his arousal stirring already; he really has no qualms about doing nasty things to you, any time, anywhere. “Oh, baby, I’m already thinking about you reading to me... Hearing that sweet little voice say such naughty things, those pretty little lips forming unholy syllables...” And in true Max Cady fashion, his fingertips are already teasing at the edge of your skirt, threatening for his rough palms to attack your delicate thighs.

You feel a single finger creep up to your hip, teasing at the waistband of your panties, “I hope you aren’t particularly fond of these, ‘cuz they’re coming off now, honey.” And with that, his other hand quickly follows the first one up your skirt and before you could even protest, the man is on his knees and the lacy underwear around your ankles. He helps you out of them as is you were a toddler, getting them over your shoes.

He quickly snatches a book from the bottom shelf and flips it open to a random page before stuffing your panties in it and shoving it back on the shelf. “Max!!!” you whisper-yell.

“What?” he plays dumb, standing back up to press himself into your backside again. “You don’t want someone findin’ your panties? Knowin’ what we did in here? Mmm, well I wanna spread the word about you, baby... Besides, they can use it as a bookmark.” His hands grip your hipbones and he gives you a sloppy kiss on your neck, making a loud slurping noise.

“Max! Shhh!!”

“You’re so cute, all worried about getting caught. You think we’ll get in trouble if someone sees us, or god forbid if someone hears us in this quiet place?”

“Maaaaxxx...” you whine.

“Mm, yeah? You like that idea? Someone hearing the way I turn you into a whore for me? You don’t sound as innocent as you look once I get you goin’.” His hand slides around to your sex, teasing you roughly through the smooth fabric of your skirt, and when you let out a little whimper, it only proves his point.

"Alright, princess, why don't you grab us that book we're looking for?" Following his question, Max's strong arms easily hoist you off the ground, lifting you up, up, up to reach that top shelf and pull down one of Max's favorite books: 𝘛𝘳𝘰𝘱𝘪𝘤 𝘰𝘧 𝘊𝘢𝘯𝘤𝘦𝘳. Oh, and don't think that he missed the opportunity to peak under that skirt...

• • •

As you and Max relax in two adjacent armchairs that he scooted close together, you recite prose from your boyfriend's favorite author. Just a few pages in, you're already at one of his favorite parts. You can read the sheer excitement on Max's face when he says, "Alright, darlin', you better speak up for this next part, you know how much I like the dirty bits."

You look around, making sure no one is nearby, and you start, "'At night when I look at Boris' goatee lying on the pillow I get hysterical.'"

"Louder," Max tilts his head forward, looking at you from under his brow bone.

You raise your voice only slightly, "'O Tania, where now is that warm cunt of yours, those fat, heavy garters, those soft, bulging thighs?'"

"I can't hear you..." he chimes devilishly.

"'There is a bone in my prick six inches long...'"

"And what's he gonna do with it?" Like he doesn't already know.

"'I will ream out every wrinkle in your cunt, Tania, big with seed,'" you look around again, checking for any poor passersby, "'I will send you home to your Sylvester with an ache in your belly and your womb turned inside out.'"

Max let's out a low whistle, "That Henry Miller suuuure knew what he was talking about, huh?" He leans forwards and rather directly slides his hand under your skirt, thumb quickly parting your lips to find that special little bundle of nerves.

You gasp loudly, and Max continues, "Yeah? You want me to turn your womb inside out like he did to Tania? Make that little cunt smooth with my big cock?" His voice is just loud enough that it still sounds intimate but anyone walking by could easily hear.

In an attempt to quiet your moans, you press on reading, "’Your Sylvester! Yes, he knows how to build a fire-‘"

"’But I know how to inflame a cunt!’" Max finishes your sentence for you before pulling you up out of your chair and into his lap, where his fingers quickly find their place between your thighs as if it is the most natural thing in the world to him. "Keep reading, princess," he whispers softly in your ear.

You become aware of his hard length pressing into your thigh, as you read the line, "’I shoot hot bolts into you, Tania, I make your ovaries incandescent.’”

Max lets out a deep moan that rumbles your eardrums and presses some kisses to your cheek and jawline.

“‘Your Sylvester is a little jealous now? He feels something, does he? He feels the remnants of my big prick. I have set the shores a little wider. I have ironed out the wrinkles,’” Max starts to rut against you in his lap. His hands take a firm grip on your hips and slide you back and forth against the erection trapped in his pants. You keep going, “‘After me you can take on stallions, bulls, rams, drakes, St. Bernards. You can stuff toads, bats, lizards up your rectum. You can shit arpeggios if you like, or string a zither across your navel.’”

His moans become quite noisy and his hands search for your flesh; one hand slipping under the edge of your shirt to feel the soft skin of your tummy, the other getting an anchor hold on your hair and giving it a rough tug. You inhale sharply wincing at the pain. You can tell Max is getting needy for you; it would never cease to fascinate you how some little girl (anyone is small next to his towering muscular frame) could have so much control over him.

“‘I am fucking you, Tania, so that you'll stay fucked. And if you are afraid of being fucked publicly I will fuck you privately-‘“

“Damn, that sounds like a good idea,” Max grunts out and unzips his pants, “I sure hope you aren’t afraid of being fucked publicly.”

His next few actions only take a few seconds, and before you can even realize it, you’ve been hoisted up and swiftly dropped down onto your boyfriend’s thick cock. You somehow let out a gasp and a squeal at the same time, and Max claps his hand over your mouth. The only other sound is the thud of the book hitting the floor and closing. Where Max wanted you to speak up before, now it’s time for the quiet game...

“How’s that feel? Daddy’s big cock stretching out those tight walls, huh?” Clearly, it’s a rhetorical question since his hand stays clasped over your mouth. It’s Max’s turn to tease you with his words. “You always take me so well, my little princess. You think if anyone walked by they would know that you’re filled to the brim with my prick? You’ve been trained well, baby girl, you can take me and no one knows I’m inside you, but I know how turned on you are, I felt how wet you were when I was touching you. You wanted this, and I bet everyone knows how much you wanted it, I bet that librarian in the next room knows you have your pussy stuffed right now.”

In all honestly, this guy Ryan had just started working at the library; he had hoped it would be more a bit more relaxing than his job at the local drive-in movie theatre. But Ryan recognized you and Max when you came in, and he really, REALLY doesn’t want another awkward interaction with your boyfriend, so he’s gonna leave you to do whatever you want in the back room of the library...

His hand still covers your mouth as you lean your head back onto his shoulder, looking at him out the corner of your eye. His other arm braces your hips, keeping you flush to him so you can feel every time his member twitches. “You feel me, princess? Feel that ‘bone in my prick’ and how bad I want you?”

You nod your head as much as his grip will allow, eyes never leaving his.

“If I can be frank, sweetheart, Daddy’s never been good at this whole cockwarming thing like you are. It always leaves me wanting more, and you know Daddy can’t resist having more of you... Whaddaya say we play horsey instead? I’ll bounce you on my lap like the dumb little baby doll you are, just like your old man did for you when you were a kid."

You let out an excited little whimper, and Max moves his hands to your hips. "Now I can't keep a hand on your mouth anymore. Think you can keep quiet for me?"

You nod your head excitedly and whisper as quietly as you can, "Yes, sir, Daddy. Can I have a kiss?"

"Aww, of course you can, angel," his lips meet yours in a wet, unrefined fashion, giving you the rough kind of kiss you need. Max also takes this moment to start bouncing you in his lap, just like horsey. With your lips pressed to his, it muffles any sounds that escape the two of you.

His thrusts are small and quick, but actually really satisfying at this angle. The girth of him presses against that special spot inside you. That combined with the thrill of possibly getting caught already has that feeling creeping up in your belly. Your nails dig into his hips looking for something to ground you as you find ecstasy in your orgasm.

But your climax isn't gonna stop Max from what he's doing. He continues to bounce you on his lap, whispering, "Mmm, finished so soon? You must like bouncing on my cock. Bouncy, bouncy..."

You bite your lip, still riding out your orgasm as he continually slams into your g-spot. When a drawn out little whine hums out of you, Max shushes you with a "Shhhh, shhh, baby. You're doing so good, such a good girl for Daddy. Just a little longer, I'm so close, princess."

With your brows furrowed and eyes closed tight, you brave yourself on the arms of the chair. You feel two calloused fingertips at your bottom lip, and you open your mouth, taking them in.

"There that'll keep you quiet for this next part," Max warns before absolutely plowing his hips up into you as fast as he can. His other hand maintains such a firm grip on your side, you think he'll probably leave bruises.

Max chokes back a deep grunt and pulls you down into his lap to spill his seed inside you. You feel his length jolting and that warm gooey liquid. You both sit there catching your breath, and Max wraps his arms around you in a loving embrace.

He gets you to look at him, placing another dirty kiss to your mouth. Then he pulls you off of him, stand up, places you back down on the chair, and gets his pants zipped up.

"Um. Max?" you whisper, a little tense.

"What is it, little darlin'?" He gets on his knees in front of you, placing his big hands on your thighs.

"Uhhh... I think there's gonna be a little mess on this chair," you get right next to his ear and oh so quietly tell him, "it's, uh, leaking."

"Aww, are you worried about leaving some of my cum on the chair?" he places a hand on your chin, "That was the point, baby. The librarian can handle it." Max gives you a wink before taking you by the hand and leading you out of the library.

Poor Ryan.... Scarred again by Max and his girl, and now he has to clean up after them.

[lavenderbexlatte]

more & more

stray kids 2.6k words female reader insert FemDom!Reader x Sub!3RACHA mature

🖤 warnings: light degradation 🖤

Series Masterlist (Parts 1-7)

connect with me! / masterlist

It’s all three of them. 

When that happened, you’re not quite sure. This is why you hate house parties, hate being messy drunk all on your own. There’s so many people milling around, crashing on couches, watching movies in the low light, disappearing into bedrooms to do God knows what.

You’re leaning on the wall, just watching the room at large. It’s a den, of some sort, a living room. A family room? You don’t know. There are long, worn, slouching sectional couches and a coffee table laden with bottles and cups. A television playing some movie casts a gentle bluish light over everything. It’s the quietest room in the house by far; you can hear loud laughter from the kitchen and bumping music from the backyard. You were content to just people-watch, enjoy being innocently drunk on your own and watching other people be less-innocently smashed.

This isn’t your first solo party, but it’s by far the most boring. Usually by now you’ve made a few friends who’ll carry you through the night, fun to dance and drink with and probably never see again. Not tonight. Up until now, it’s just been you, a series of drinks that you fished out of the fridge yourself, and lots of empty space.

But now, you’re surrounded by all three of them. On your left, Chan, propped casually on the wall himself, like he just happened to be there. On your right, Jisung, looking at you with that stupid grin, the really big one that shows his crooked tooth and pushes up his round cheeks. And right in front of you, Changbin, just regarding you coolly.

You know them. Everyone knows them. It’s far more surprising that they know you.

Because those three, they’re popular. Popular in a way that you didn’t really know could happen on an enormous college campus. Everyone knows them: Chan the music production major, president of the business honors frat; Changbin the creative writing whiz, Model UN president; Jisung, music major, only a sophomore but already leading the music honors society. They formed a project group once for a music production class project, as the legend goes, and the rap song they wrote, performed, and produced went Soundcloud viral. The rest is history. They’re local celebrities now, inseparable and insufferable.

They sit in front of you in your Physics 101 lecture. It’s a science class for nonscience majors, so you do alright for yourself, but you have no idea how these three are acing it the way they are. They talk and joke and write rap lyrics during class; Chan always has his production software open on his laptop, and Jisung is constantly scribbling down verses and bits. You’d think it was Changbin keeping them afloat, but he’s usually half asleep, propped up on one elbow as he nods off.

Not that you pay attention. Not that you care.

You’d care less if they weren’t so attractive. They’re all colored hair and big personality and annoying loud laughs while you’re trying to remember how to calculate redshift, apologies and soft smiles when their chairs bump into your desk.

The four of you even did a class project together once, a small star observation thing that only took a few hours, but it was a few hours of nighttime with them. But you were never close, you never even really talked beyond the basic chit-chat of classmates. You can barely remember their last names. You’re sure they don’t know yours.

So there’s really no reason for the three of them to be looking at you the way they are right now, on either side and directly in front of you, eyes trained on you.

You’re caged in, but you don’t hate it. You kind of like it. Really like it.

Changbin doesn’t say anything. None of them do. You don’t either. You just look at Changbin, your back pressed against the wall. He lifts one arm, all biceps and triceps and shoulders in a tight t-shirt, and rests his palm flat on the wall over your shoulder. He’s barely taller than you, but you feel pinned there, thoroughly caged in. It’s not a feeling you’re used to, and it sends a funny little thrill down your spine.

You break the silence first. “What are you doing?”

Changbin just keeps looking it you. It’s Chan who answers.

“Taking a risk.”

Huh.

You don’t say anything to that, just fixing Changbin with an even stare back. He leans forward, just enough that you think, oh Christ, he’s gonna kiss me.

He keeps coming until he doesn’t.

He veers to the side, right as your eyes flutter shut, and you open them to find his lips on Jisung’s, just a short tender press that leaves Jisung laughing after him. The big arm keeping you against the wall, holding you without even touching you, drops back down, and Changbin leans to the other side. With a little smirk as though he knows exactly what he’s doing to you, he kisses Chan, just the same.

You’re not quite sure what that’s meant to signal to you, or why they’re choosing to mess with you like this, but seeing them be so casual and tender sends an embarrassing wave of arousal through you. You wonder why you haven’t seen this part of their relationship before, if you’ve just been oblivious of it these months sitting behind them.

Chan, Changbin, and Jisung, local celebrities, inseparable bros…more than friends?

Changbin regards you again, grinning smooth and sneaky. He pauses, and you nod your consent ever so slightly, egging him on. With a little huff of a laugh, a little bit of alright, alright, he finally kisses you, all firm pressure and warm confidence. One of your hands goes up to touch him, hold him, but Jisung grabs your wrist as it rises beside him and holds it back down firmly against the wall. You don’t try it with the other hand. Chan will probably do the same.

He pulls away, still grinning. You’re breathless, but clear-headed.

“There’s that pretty blush,” says Chan, cavalier, “You got all pink-cheeked and flustered like that when ‘Bin walked into you in the Starbucks the other week, you remember that?”

You barely do. It was weeks ago, just a brush against you that sent your books tumbling out of your arms when you realized who it was, sneaking behind you with their hand on the small of your back. It had surprised you, more than overwhelmed you, but you do remember your cheeks burning in embarrassment as you collected your books and notes from the floor.

“We decided we wanted to see it again,” says Jisung.

And suddenly it’s clear. They’ve underestimated you. Cornered you at a party, decided it would be easy to get the shy girl from Physics to fuck around with them a little. Three handsome and popular guys, versus little old you. No contest, right?

Oh, this will be fun.

You glance around at the three of them, taking in their expressions and stances, the way they lean into you or away. It’s clear that Jisung is the least sure of himself, whether for his age or his personality, you don’t know.

It’s easy enough to turn toward Jisung, wrenching your arm around his grasp. You lean in close, until you’re practically nose-to-nose with him. He’s always doe-eyed, but right now you swear you can see your own cocky little grin reflected back in his pupils.

“Only Changbin gets to have fun?” you ask, quietly, relishing the way Jisung twitches toward you.

Changbin scoffs, but Jisung surges forward to kiss you, too, much more eagerly. You barely let him touch your lips before you back off, and he chases you as you lean back, giving away his own desperation.

“Aw,” you coo.

He raises the hand that isn’t still holding fast to your wrist, as if you grab you, cup your face, bring you closer, and you pull back all the way.

“No,” you say sweetly.

Immediately, his hand darts back down to his side. Good. Very good. You press your lips to his again, just barely any pressure at all, and repeat your little game, pulling back and making him chase you.

After a moment, Jisung seems to realize what you’re doing, that you’re not going to let him any closer, and he relaxes again, his expression equal parts confused and intrigued. The other two are watching you with wide eyes. Changbin might as well be drooling.

“Sorry to disappoint, but I’m not that easy to push around,” you say, smiling brightly.

“Figures,” says Chan, amused.

He’s still not touching you, hasn’t touched you at all. He’s just leaning there, a warm presence by your side. For some reason, that interests you even more. Maybe he’s going to be a challenge.

“And anyway, we shouldn’t cause a scene in front of all these people,” you turn slightly, meeting Jisung’s eye, “You gonna let go?”

Surprised, Jisung releases your wrist that he’s been squeezing all the while, and you cross your arms over your chest. You turn to face front again, forcing a little more space between yourself and Changbin.

Chan laughs. “You were wrong, ‘Bin.”

“It’s always the quiet ones,” Changbin mutters. “Find someone sweet and quiet, they wanna do you up in shibari and peg you. Every single time.”

He’s giving you ideas, which is dangerous and delightful. You wonder who’s done that stuff to them before. You kind of want to send that person a congratulations card, give them a high-five.

“Must just be our type,” Jisung muses.

Changbin rolls his eyes. “Just once, can’t we actually be into a sub?”

“Cuz that would work so well for us,” Jisung replies. “Another sub. Perfect.”

“So what are we doing here?” you ask, curiosity truly bursting, “What is this?”

“Whatever you want it to be,” Chan says smoothly.

“You’re not just out here preying on innocent girls, are you?” you ask.

You don’t think they are. Everything you know paints them as harmless, more than a little dorky, good-natured and boisterous. But it’s easy to imagine someone less strong-willed than you getting swept away by the charm pouring off these three like Axe body spray off a middle schooler. They probably don’t even know how this looks, cornering someone and planting one on them.

Chan shakes his head, letting his hand wander over to tug Changbin into his side. “Nah. We were out for a few drinks, catching up with some people. And we saw you. Figured it was worth a shot.”

You scoff out a laugh. “Soft dom me into fucking you?”

Chan’s grin is rakish and ridiculously confident as he strokes Changbin’s shoulder. “It’s worked before.”

“Sorry to disappoint,” you say again.

You spare a glance around the room. Nobody has even noticed the four of you doing this very strange dance of power in the corner. The television is still blaring some old comedy, and people still recline on the assorted chairs and sofas. You’re in the clear to keep this going. You smile to yourself.

“I’m not disappointed,” says Jisung. “Are you two disappointed?”

Changbin shakes his head. Chan just keeps looking at you, still grinning bright and confident.

It occurs to you then, what Jisung has just said. About another sub not working out, with the three of them. They must all lean more submissive, then. Even Chan, under this thick layer of brat. You can work with that. He just needs a bit of an attitude adjustment.

So you move toward him, reaching for his face. He leans into the touch, until you move up to grab him by the hair. You remember when he was blonde, earlier in the school year, and an odd bluish grey before that. Somewhere in the middle was a shocking red that only lasted a day, a washable hairspray color. But now, his hair is inky black waves, and you twist your fingers into the curls that flyaway over his forehead and tug gently, tilting his chin up, until he’s backed himself against the wall, palms scrabbling at the wallpaper for purchase.

You just hold him like that, his hair a dark streak in your fist, not even pulling. Just holding him, letting the anticipation work its magic. Before long, he’s squirming ever so slightly in your hold, still meeting your eye stubbornly, pretending that he doesn’t want you to pull his hair, manhandle him more, do something.

“Is this it?” he scoffs.

“I don’t want to come on too strong,” you shrug.

Chan has the boldness to look bored. “You’re not doing anything. Maybe we were right the first time, and you’re just putting us on.”

You tug on his hair at the root, just once, hard enough that he jumps. Your other hand goes to the beltloop on his jeans, tugging his hips toward you just the slightest bit. It’s satisfying to watch him struggle, torn between rocking forward into you and staying put where the hand in his hair holds him up against the wall.

“Hm,” you hum, “Is this too much?”

You’re teasing him, and he knows it, since you’ve barely done anything at all. You can tell that he hates the way you’re patronizing him, from the way his lip curls into a sneer.

“No,” he rasps, “More.”

Changbin makes a small noise from just behind you, a groan or maybe even a moan, but you ignore it in favor of really driving your point home. You tug at the hair in your grip again, harder, and Chan arches that long pretty neck back with the tiniest gasp.

“More,” he says again.

“More and more,” you tease, fake sympathy dripping from your voice.

He nods eagerly, which tugs again at his own hair, making him gasp. You take that opportunity to kiss him, and he responds in kind, keeping his hands neatly by his sides without needing to be told. Where Changbin was measured, trying to impress you, and Jisung was surprised, Chan is eager to please.

You pull back, smacking your lips appreciatively. “Peach flavor, huh? Flavored lip balm. Aren’t you just a sweet peach.”

The way that Chan’s eyes blow wide when you say that is poetry. Oh, yes.

“You like that,” you say, “Don’t you, peach?”

Jisung lets out a desperate little sigh behind you, “Fuck.”

Oh. You’d forgotten that you’re putting on a show not just with Changbin and Jisung’s friend, but their partner. All the more reason to make it a good show.

“Tell me you like it,” you demand.

“I like it,” he says, almost before you’re finished speaking.

“Kiss him again,” comes Changbin’s voice. “Please.”

You oblige, just for a moment.

All at once, you break the kiss and pull away, letting go of his hair and backing all the way out of the little circle they’ve made around you. You take a second to appraise the three of them. Changbin is ruffled, far cry from the guy who’d made to pin you to the wall just a short while ago. Jisung is already hard in his tight jeans. And Chan is just a mess, still pressed to the wall where you’d left him, pink peach-flavored lips swollen from your handiwork.

You turn to walk away.

“Where are you going?” Chan asks, and you’re delighted to hear just a hint of a whine in his tone.

You fix the three of them with your best innocent look.

“You said you wanted more.”

As you turn again and saunter out of the family room(…den…living room?), you can hear the telltale sound of several desperate pairs of feet following you out.

Perfect.

[aliasimagines]

operation fools in love//luke patterson

requested by a lovely anon

word count: 3333(!!!)

a/n: i still don’t know how to write endings

The corridor was noisy with loud chatter, quietly whispered gossip and the sound of rushing students' shoes hitting against the floor. 

You hummed  'edge of great' as you started fishing out the books you need for class from your locker. It has been stuck in your head since yesterday evening when the guys played it for you and Flynn at band practice. 

You were about to close your locker when he poofed next to you. 

“Hi, y/n!”

“AAHHH” you screamed, earning a few side looks from passing by students. 

“Ahh, I accidentally kicked my locker, haha…”you started explaining yourself before turning back to your open locker. You sent a glare in Luke’s way.

“What did Julie and I say to you? Do not teleport randomly to us at school!”

He chuckled.

“Yeah, rules, rules, I don’t care. I just wanted to drop in and say hi!” he smiled at you with his signature Luke smile.

“Well, you did. That’s all? I kinda need to go to class.” you spot Julie in the corner of your eyes as you walk over to her locker. You quickly wave at her and soon after she comes over so you can talk to Luke without looking crazy. 

Luke mumbles something under his breath and goes to scratch the back of his head.

“No! Uhm..Hi Jules… So y/n I also kinda wanted to ask if you would come to our gig tonight? You know, we are playing not far from that food place you like? "

You smiled, appreciating that he remembered your favorite food place. 

"Well,erm.. I guess? I want to but I might have dance practice, so I am not sure." you say, wishing you'd know for sure but you won't find out till the end of your classes. 

Luke's lips formed an 'o' before his gaze fell down on his shoes. 

"Oh well.. I-okay. Bye?" he says in an unsure tone before disappearing, leaving you to face Julie. 

"Well, wasn't that adorable?"  she asks with a smug grin. 

"What? What are you talkin' bout Jules?" you ask honestly confused. She laughs and puts her hand on your shoulder. 

"Sweetheart, you two are just oblivious to each other!" 

"I don't… What?" 

"You like him. He likes you. It's not that confusing. Really it is obvious." 

"Shhh, quiet!" you shh-ed her, quickly making sure if Luke was 100 percent gone. "I.. I don't like him." 

It was unnecessary, you couldn't even fool yourself and especially not Julie. 

"Y/N, come on girl, I know you do. And he does like you too! I mean I am writing songs with him, do you know how many lovesick lyrics he has written lately? It is making me sick." she laughed. 

"Well, he might have written them about someone else. Maybe you? You two have amazing chemistry."

Julie sighed and grabbed both of your shoulders so she could look at you. 

"Y/N, honey. Believe me when I say he is head over heels for you. Why else would he want you to be at our gig so much?”

„Luke is literally so passionate about music? Of course he wants to share it with me, cause he wants to share it with everyone.”

„Ahg, girl you need glasses cuz you can't see shit. Look, if  prove he likes you too will you believe me?”

„Sure. I mean you can’t prove something that is not true but, sure go ahead, ’prove it’.” 

Julie rolled her eyes and opened her mouth to respond but luckily for you the bell rang.

“See you later, alligator!” and with that you were off to class, leaving Julie alone to work on her master plan. 

She knew she had to pull this off because the mutual pinning was unbearable but she also knew she couldn't do it alone. She'll need all the help she can get and that includes Flynn and the rest of her ghost band. 

You changed into your leggings and sweatshirt before heading into the gym where the dance practice took place. You were quite bumped. Don't get me wrong dancing is everything to you but.. You really did want to see the guys perform. 

You and the other kids were warming up, waiting for your teacher to start showing the choreography. But neither of you expected what she did next. Much to your surprise Reggie and Alex appeared next to her and started messing with her water bottle before you could even open your mouth.

For a moment no one acknowledged what was going on. Some were too busy chatting and warming up and Ms Janett was too busy with her phone. The two ghosts seemed to have noticed that and after exchanging a knowing smirk they grabbed the phone out of your teachers hands. She perked up, a mixture of anger and confusion on her face. And then… she saw her own phone floating in tin air.

“Stop!!” you whisper shouted  in the boys direction but they only gave you a smirk before Reggie started searching for the music player application. Alex pointed over Reggie’s shoulder.

“Uuu, play that one.” 

And as soon as the Lady Gaga song started playing Ms Janett let out a scream causing everyone to look up. You saw the boys dancing with the phone and the pompoms in their hand (although you have no idea where Alex got those pompoms) but everyone else just saw those items moving by themselves.

“GHOOOST!!! Everybody RUUUUUUN!” 

Some people followed the teacher, some stayed behind to take a closer look only to be scared away by a flying pompom. 

“What the heck are you two doing?” you turned to them,being  rather angry,  once you were the only living person in the gym. Seriously, what were they thinking?

“We cleared your afternooon! You can come to our concert!” Reggie exclaimed and put down the phone. 

“Do you think I would go after this fiasco you just pulled??” you were definitely angry now.

“Oh come on, if not for us then for Julie..and for Luke.”

You snapped your head in Alex's direction at the mention of Luke’s name.

“What do...No. Don’t try to divert the topic. What you did was incredebly stupid! What if.. What if someone connects the dots and figures out that Julie’s hologram band is actually a ghost band? There will be scientist and ghost busters and-”

“Shh, Y/N jeez, calm down. it will be okay. We’ll see you at the show.” 

And they poofed away. They simply left  you alone with your thoughts. You need to come up with some kind of explanation for the dance class but right now you need to go home and change. The boys were right, even if they kinda (really) caused a mess here you still like them and don’t want to miss seeing them live ((Winky face)).

Meanwhile you were sorting through your dresses and outfit options. Julie and the band arrived at the venue for rehearsal.

Usually it was Luke who hyped Julie up before shows but right now the roles were switched because Luke looked like a kicked puppy ever since he learned you wouldn’t be able to make it to their gig. Of course Julie knew you will be here, as she was the one to send the boys to scare away your teacher. It was all part of her little plan.

Like mentioned Luke wrote half a dozen songs, all centered around his feelings for you. He stated to Jules that he will definitely not play them for you because there is just no way you like him back, but now Luke thinks you won’t be there so Julie is on the next step of her genius plan. Convince Luke to play one of his love songs.

“Luke, Lukey-poo, my man.” she started getting more and more cringy. “I thought we could close with Hero and Heroine? I know you said you don’t want to play it but it is such a great song, you definitely shouldn’t let it be just another forgotten song that stays on a piece of paper. Plus it is perfect for closing, think about it!”

“Julie...I-I told you I don’t wanna play it.”

“You told me you don’t wanna play it in front of Y/N, which would be the whole point of writing love songs to her but that's besides the point right now. Pleeassee?”

Luke took a deep breath and looked at his ghost mates for...What for? Support? Advice? He is not sure. He does want to play the song, pour out his emotions through the song but the question is..should he? He knows you can’t be here which both makes him wanna play the song and not at the same time.

“I agree with Julie, dude.” Alex said, shrugging his shoulder like he knew of nothing. Reggie nodded along.

“Okay..If you all think I w-”

Julie stood up and clapped her hands together.

“Cool! It is settled. I’ll need to make a phone call, brb.”

“Barbeque?” asked Reggie confused. Which made Alex laugh.

“Brb actually means be right back. Willie told me.” the blond made his way over to Luke and gently punched his shoulder. “Really Luke, that song is great. And I know you think there is no way Y/N would like you back but I am sure if she could hear it-”

“I’m a ghost, Alex! I can’t just confess to her, how are we gonna date? We can’t even touch.”

“That is totally not the reason. You are afraid she would decline your affection, I get it, but believe me I have seen her look at you. That longing in her eyes when I mention your name. She likes you.”

Luke rolled his eyes.

“Not that it matters, she won't hear the song and that is my final say in this.”

As soon as Julie stepped out of the small, cigarette smelling backroom she dialed your number. You picked up after two rings.

“Hi, Jules.”

“Hi girl, I heard what the boys did, I am so, so sorry. You know they are idiots.”she said trying real hard not to laugh but she reminded herself of her plan and pulled on her poker face.”But..Are you coming to the show? Flynn could pick you up; she is about to get going.”

“Yeah I’ll come, tell the boys I will call my teacher and say it was a prank so they can thank me for saving their ghostbutts.”

Julie giggled and started playing with her hair.She walked up and down the small corridor that led to the stage from the backroom.

“I will, I better get back and warm up but you should call Flynn so she won’t leave without you.”

Of course Flynn wouldn’t leave without you. She was waiting in her car two blocks from your home waiting for your phone car.

She didn’t have to wait long, you called her and she pretended to not expect it. Flynn kinda became your and Julie’s driver ever since she got her driver's  license last month. 

By the time the two of you got to the venue the opening was playing their last song and the place was already packed with dancing teenagers. Flynn dragged you to the bar and asked for a cola for herself and a (favourite drink) for you. 

The two of you hung back and sipped your drinks until Julie appeared on the stage. Then you took Flynn by the hand and  started pulling her toward the stage. Only she held you back. 

"Hey, what's up? Don't we wanna go and watch them from closer?" 

"Oh, well, uhm...I'd rather hang back. The crowd kind of makes me anxious right now." Flynn said. You lifted an eyebrow at her. Flynn being anxious? In a crowd?? That did not convince you. But you didn’t argue. 

"Do you need to step outside a little or…" 

"Nah, it's good, let's just stay here in the back." 

So you did. You sang and danced along to the songs you both knew so well. You tried  your best not to stare at Luke too much but let’s be honest you failed miserably. Flynn occasionally wiggled her eyebrows at you when she caught you ‘drooling over him’ as she put it.

After they finished playing Stand Tall you expected them to bow and ‘disappear’ but much to your surprise Julie grabbed the mic and brought it to her lips.

“Hello, hello, helloo! Do y’all wanna hear one more song?” the audience erupted into a loud cheer. It was so heartwarming to watch. Julie doing what she was born to do, playing music and enchanting the crowd. Flynn seemed to have the same thought because she looked at her with such pride. You pulled her into a big hug and the two of you waited for the crowd to quiet down so Jules could go on.

“Allright, allright. Now this song will be a bit different but...I will let Luke here tell it.”

You just became more and more surprised when Luke stepped closer to the mic and spoke into it, looking kinda...nervous? 

“Ohm..Hello everyone! So uh..This song is dedicated to a special someone, the songs called-”

“What’s the special someone’s name?” your eyes travelled to Reggie who asked the question with a huge grin. Luke turned to look at the bassist. If looks could kill Reggie would be double dead. But before Luke could give a voice to his disapproval towards Reggie’s question Julie spoke up.

“Yeah! What’s the name?” she turned towards the crowd and started chanting. “What’s the name?”

Soon Reggie and Alex joined with smiles painted on their faces along with the audience. You were so freaking confused. You looked at Flynn for some explanation but how would she know about it. 

“OKAY, okay, stop!” Luke yelled before laughing a little. “All right I will tell you guys but you have to promise me you won’t tell anyone?”

All of a sudden you felt sick and wanted to get out of here. You were so not in the mood to hear Luke declare his love for someone. 

“This song is dedicated to..To Y/N. Unfortunately she wouldn't be here today but..she is an amazing person. Hope you all like the song.”

He...He couldn’t be talking about you, could he?

He started strumming his guitar and soon Reggie joined in with the bass and Alex with the drums. Jullie clapped her hands together and kept sending encouraging looks for the boy.

“It's too late baby, there's no turning around, I've got my hands in my pocket and my head in a cloud, this is how I do, when I think about you,I never thought that you could break me apart,I keep a sinister smile and a hole of my heart” he sang into the mic, his voice filling in the whole club “You want to get inside, then you can to get in line but not this time”

“'Cause you caught me off guard, now I'm running and screaming!” Julie joined in for the line“I feel like a hero and you're my heroine.”

“I won't try to philosophize, I'll just take a deep breath and I'll look in your eyes, this is how I feel and it's so so real I got a closet filled up to the brim with the ghosts of my past and the skeletons, and I don't know why, you'd even try but I won't lie” Luke sang and you finally realised what was going in. He wrote this song. For you. You looked over to Flynn who nodded towards the stage and mouthed ‘go’.

I feel like a hero and you are my heroine. Do you know that your love is the sweetest sin?

You started making your way towards the stage, slipped through the cracks between dancing people and singing fans. The further you got the harder it was to get through but you heard Luke’s voice and you kept going.

And I feel a weakness coming on, never felt so good to be so wrong. Had my heart on lock down and then you turned me around

And I’m feeling like a new born child..

You finally break through a few screaming girls and see him.

“-Every time I get a chance to see you smile. It’s not complicated, I’m so jaded.” Luke sings and looks at the audience and- He spots you. Looking up at him with eyes wide open and admiration on your face. His voice cracks because of the sudden surprise of your presence but you smile at him and that is all he needs to continue.

“And you caught me off guard...Now I’m running and screaming”

He sang the song with such passion that even if you weren’t before now you were absolutely sure this wasn’t just a simple crush. 

When they finished you didn’t waste a lot of time, you ran backstage, quickly waving your vip ticket.  You almost run into Julie on your way to the door of the backroom.

“Who- Y/N!”

“This was your doing, wasn’t it?” you smiled at her already knowing the answer. She flashed a toothy grin. 

“Well I had a great team behind me but yeah, Operation FiL was my idea.”

“Phil?” you ask back .

“No, no. F i L. Fools in Love. Now go get ‘im tiger!”

You shook your head and entered the backroom. Luke stood with his back facing you but as soon as he saw you in the mirror he spinned around. For a moment you forgot he was a ghost and ran to give him a hug. 

“Y/N, no-” he put his hands out so he could catch you, simply out of reflex but he didn’t expect to actually hold you in his arms. You both looked at each other with eyes as wide as a 6 lane highway. 

“How can I-”

“Do you care?”  you closed the little distance between the two of you and pressed your lips against his.  They were just as soft as you imagined oh, so many times before. He kissed back gently, afraid that this is just a dream. But this was definitely too real to be a dream. You unfortunately had to pull back to catch your breath but Luke looked leaned closer to press his forehead against yours.

“The song was so beautiful, I loved it.” you whisper. He just stared at you with a smile.

“If I knew you would kiss me, I would have played it a long time ago.” you giggled and brought your lips together for one more kiss. He let his hands wander this time but so did you. Your fingers ran through his brown hair, this being something you wanted to do for so long. He kept one hand on your waist and placed the other on the side of your face.

Your lips moved so in sync like you’ve been doing this all your lives. You were so drawn to each other, you felt like you couldn’t pull away in that moment even if you tried. Like this invisible magical force just glued the two of you to-

“Okay, that is enough! Get out I need to change!” Julie brusted in causing Luke to jump up and cling to you like Scooby Doo.

“Wow, you are so brave.''you laughed rolling your eyes at. “Come on, let’s leave alone Julie. We’ll meet ya at the car?”

 Jules nodded and sent a wink in your way. You walked outside, both of you grinning like idiots. 

“So uhm...Does this make us, Us?”

“Yeah. I mean if that’s what you want too.” you look at your shoes and bite your lower lip waiting for his answer.

“There’s nothing I want more.” he said. “Oh well..maybe another kiss wouldn’t be so bad either..”

[palbabor-writes]

Quarter-Century

Pairing: Sakusa Kiyoomi x Fem!Reader

Warnings: mild heavy petting, but this is pretty tame, oh & lots of fluff, likely enough to kill someone, so watch out for that, k?

What’s with him today? It’s just another day. After all, birthdays don’t matter when you’re this old, right? It’s not like he’s a kid. He doesn’t need a party, doesn’t really want one either. Besides, you’ve likely got something planned, you always do.

Words: 3754

Notes: if i call this a drabble are y’all gonna get mad at me? 

Quarter-Century quar·ter-cen·tu·ry /ˈkwôrdər/ - /ˈsen(t)SH(ə)rē/ noun  a period of 25 years

Twenty-five.  

It’s always spoken about like it’s some kind of milestone. Eh, it’s just another year, Kiyoomi thinks, tugging his sweaty shirt off of his back and walking toward the MSBY team dressing room, there’s nothing special about it. 

He’d woken up at 5:25, taken his first shower, kissed your sleeping form absentmindedly on the cheek before he left the bedroom, and jogged the three miles to the training facility.

He’d worked on his digs, on his jump float, and looked over the drills. The team had two practice games and had huddled up for the review at the end, the same as always. As Kiyoomi made his way out of the locker room Atsumu and Bokuto had both clapped him on the back, joking about the fleeting joys of ‘youth,’ and congratulating him on his performance on the court before they all went their separate ways, each gliding along their own trajectory. 

No, there’s nothing special about birthdays.

You’re not back from work when he gets home, so Kiyoomi pads around the empty apartment, flitting from room to room, disjointedly flipping on lights and switching them back off seconds later. It’s like he can’t make up his mind. Should he take a nap? He could sleep off these uncharacteristic and frustrating jitters that keep coursing through him. No, he reconsiders naps just make him groggy and irritable. What else?

He’s showered twice today, there’s no need for another, and it looks like you’d cleaned up the living room and kitchen before you’d left for the day, so there’s nothing for him to clean either. Ugh, what’s with this restlessness? 

There are old matches that he can watch, already primed and loaded onto his laptop, but it’s charging in the bedroom, likely tucked under some of your leaflets and various heapings of paperwork. It’d be a pain to move everything.

Eh, he could start a puzzle, maybe flip through some channels, see what’s on TV, and there’s that book that you’d told him he should check out, he’s weeks behind on starting that, but it’s in the bedroom too, and–

Damn it. It feels like he’s stuck in some kind of loop.

He flops down on the couch, tipping his dark head back, obsidian curls fanning around his forehead as he stares up at the ceiling. What’s with him today? It’s just another day. After all, birthdays don’t matter when you’re this old, right? It’s not like he’s a kid. He doesn’t need a party, doesn’t really want one either. Besides, you’ve likely got something planned, you always do. He smiles at that thought, running his hands through his hair and letting out a deep exhale. It’ll be alright, he reasons, you’ll get back and he’ll shake himself out of this funk, and then maybe he can–

The sudden scrape of the lock turning makes him jump, and he pops his head up just as you step through the door, a smattering of canvas bags tucked under your coiled hands. You spot him as you tap the door closed, a broad grin lighting up your face. “Hey there!” you call out, stepping toward the kitchen to deposit your purchases. “Did you just get home? Practice go okay?” 

“It went well,” Kiyoomi replies, hunching forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “That reminds me, the next match is this weekend, you still planning on going?”

“Yeah!” you confirm, tucking a few things into the fridge before you pace over to his seated figure. “It’s right before the playoffs start, so it’ll likely be one of the last ones I can get a good seat to. Once you guys get in those end of season bouts it gets...Hey, you sure you’re alright? You look a little, I don’t know, downcast?” You kneel in front of him, your hands reaching, stroking gently over his hair and down his jaw. 

“I’m fine. Feel a little...off...is all. Happens.”

“Off?” you question, bright eyes finally catching his onyx. “Well, we can’t have that. Not today!”

“Hmph, it’s just a Saturday,” Kiyoomi huffs, catching your wrists and lowering your hands from his face. 

“Yes,” you continue, watching as he distractedly toys with your hands, trailing his thumbs over your fingers and flipping your palms this way and that within his hold. “It’s also a Saturday where I’ve played the role of good– no great, girlfriend and got us some tickets! Surprise!”

“Tickets?” he echoes, his head cocking to the side as he lifts his gaze back to yours. “To what? If it’s some kinda concert, not to be an ass, but I don’t really want to go to a–”

“Really?” you deadpan, arching an eyebrow at his morose expression. “You think, after two years of dating, that I’d take you to a concert? You? Kiyoomi Sakusa, the man who is pretty much allergic to crowds, who completely dipped out of a shoe store once because there were five people in the ‘athletic wear’ section, who abhors the mere thought of tight spaces and groups of twenty or more, thought that I, his loving partner, decided to put some some color into his living nightmares, and on his birthday no less, by bringing him to a concert?”

Kiyoomi clicks his tongue and exhales a tight laugh. “When you put it that way, no. But on the off chance that you did, and you’re trying to bluff your way out of the situation by over elaborating your reasons for not bringing me, well…I’m gonna have to decline the gift.”

You narrow your eyes at his impassive face and purse your lips. “And to think, I was gonna come over here and give you a kiss and everything.” 

“You’ll still give me one,” Kiyoomi smarts, a coquettish smirk lifting his lips when you openly scoff at him. “So, out with it, what are the tickets to?”

“Oh? Now you wanna know? Suddenly you’re curious. Well you can hold on to that buddy, cuz’ I’m not gonna tell you.”

“Yes, you are.”

“Why should I?”

“It’s my birthday,” he intones simply, broad palms already sliding up your arms, pulling you closer. You smell nice, Kiyoomi thinks, lips barely missing your own as you twist playfully away from him.

“Pfft, what happened to ‘it’s just a Saturday?’” you tease, following his insistent tugs, one knee pressing down into the cushions of the couch as you lower yourself over his lap. 

“Changed my mind,” Kiyoomi states, finally catching you and caressing his lips sinfully against yours. “I’m allowed to do that,” he continues, sucking a rasp from you as he drags his sharp teeth across the plush swell of your lower lip. “Mmm, you might have gotten a little distracted, so let me repeat my question: what are the tickets to?” 

He is genuinely interested; he wants to know what you’ve planned for the two of you, but his hands have already started that downward journey, long digits stroking over the curves that flow down your side, cupping and pulling just the way you like. Your knees lift when he buries his fingertips into the flesh of your upper thighs and you sigh, breath warm against his flushed cheeks. 

Actually, this is fine. After all, he’s good at this. He’s had plenty of time to learn you, to practice, and he loves that he knows just what to do to make you quake between his heated palms. But when he jerks you closer, your lips slip from his and you’re careful to brace yourself away, momentarily safe from his distracting caresses. 

“Baseball,” you pant, hands resting over the hard plane of his pectorals.

“Huh?” he queries, heavy brows furrowing, wholly distracted by the rise and fall of your uneven breaths and the gentle twitch of your spread legs against his hips. 

“A baseball game. I got us tickets to a baseball game.”

“It’s smaller than what I was picturing,” Kiyoomi says, adjusting the placement of his mask before looking down at you. “And what are you gonna do with that bag? Can you even take that in here?”

You laugh at his question, hoisting the thick strap of your insulated pack higher on your shoulder. “It’s the Yomiuri Giants, they’re part of the minor league so it’s a smaller stadium and don’t worry, they let you bring coolers and snacks in.”

“Eh? Snacks? Don’t they have concessions? Seems counter-productive if they let you bring your own food. How are they supposed to make money? Atsumu said that half of our vendors make a good deal of their revenue from their booths during the playoffs and the regular season. So I don’t see how that’s practical. What do you have in there, anyway? It looks heavy. Oh. Did you want me to carry it?”

“I’m not sure which one of those I should answer first,” you grin, dodging his extended hand and stepping forward. “Come on, I think we can head in now.”

The seats are located in the shade of the upper deck, right behind the third base, giving you both a perfect bird's-eye view of the action that will take place down on the field below. True to your word, the ticket inspectors had let you and your pack pass through without a word of protest, and as he flipped down his plastic seat, you carefully tucked the thick canvas between the two of you. 

“What’s in it?” he asked again, peering over your shoulder as you unzipped the long teeth and reached into the dark depths, hands searching for something. 

“You’ll see,” you promise, leaning back once you found your prize, a small bottle of hand sanitizer. You pop the lid up and nod for his palms, carefully pressing some of the clear antiseptic onto his hands. “Game should start soon,” you inform, repeating the cleaning process yourself before closing the top and tossing the bottle back into the bag. “And I wanna make sure you’re set before I head down to the concession stands.”

“So it’s food,” he determines, slipping his mask off of his face, tucking it under his chin, an appreciative smile winding its way up his lips. 

“Of course it is! You think I’d leave you to languish for 9 innings while I sit beside you, gorging myself on the delicious food they sell at the concessions, which you refuse to eat? Alas, not even I am that cruel. Nah, I brought something that I hope you’ll like.”

“I’ll like it,” Kiyoomi replies, resting his muscled shoulder against yours, watching as you arrange a few clear sets of Tupperware in your hands, lifting them evenly out of the bag. 

“Careful,” you jab, tossing him a mischievous grin. “Don’t make promises you can’t keep.”

Kiyoomi shrugs. “It’s from you; I’ll like it.”

Your hands still after his declaration and you twist your head back to him, eyes wide, searching his placid expression. “Okay,” you laugh, setting the Tupperware aside, fully turning to him and wrapping an arm around his neck, your other hand cupping his cheek, pulling him down to your seeking lips. “That was too much. There some sort of class you stoic types take? How to make others swoon in five lessons, or less?”

“Don’t be stupid,” Kiyoomi rolls his eyes, prying your hands from him. “It’s true. No need to make a big deal about it. You put a lot of effort into today, and I...I just think that...I mean...thanks,” he finishes lamely, dark eyes balefully avoiding yours. You chuckle again and reward him with another peck to his cheek.  

“So cute.”

“Stop it,” he grumbles, a faint blush staining his cheeks. “Weren’t you gonna show me something? Better hurry. After all, there’s still time for me to mess it up.”

“What does that mean?” you puzzle, pulling away.

“I dunno. I always say the wrong shit. You know that.”

“Well,” you ponder, tapping a finger against your chin. “We’re at a baseball game, so, in the spirit of the sport, why don’t I give you three strikes?”

“Just three? I mean, wow, that’s so generous of you.”

You flash him a quick glare, tutting your tongue against the roof of your mouth. “Oooh, swing and a miss. Strike one!”

He’s just about to give you some retort when you press two of the containers into his hands. The heat of the plastic feels nice against his calloused palms, and he can see the fresh steam that surrounds the food that’s waiting inside. “Onigiri?” he questions, popping the lid, mouth watering at the sight of all of that pristine rice. Damn, when did you have time to make these?

“Homemade onigiri with pickled plums,” you inform him, a gleeful smile lighting up your face, pleased that he’s already reaching for one, a look of genuine happiness falling over his usually impassive expression.

“You remembered,” he murmurs, picking up the carefully shaped ball and lifting it to his lips. He bites into the fluffy rice, fastidiously letting the flavors fall over his tongue and across his pallet. It’s perfect, he thinks as he chews, just the right amount of pickled savoriness and clean, delicate grains. Damn, when did you do all of this?

You let him finish the first onigiri before you pass him a can of beer. It’s chilled, likely sitting toward the bottom of the bag, and he flicks a stray chip of ice off of the rim. A sealed can of beer, a carefully packed meal. Is there anything you haven’t thought of?

He’s just about to turn, to tell you that...well, he’s not sure what exactly. Maybe it is something about how lucky he is. How he’s somehow stumbled into something so sublime, so wonderful, as you, and how he should tell you that more, when you stand. 

“I’m going to hop down to the food stands. Inning should open up any minute. I’m glad this is an off season game, we’ve pretty much got this whole deck to ourselves! Be right back, ‘kay?”

He nods, eyes lingering on your hands, your smile, your eyes, just everything that he can see that’s you, but he doesn’t speak. He can’t. What’s he gonna say? Don’t go? Stay here. He’ll go down. 

He’ll do whatever you want; anything for you, anything.

You tilt your head at his stony, almost stricken expression, but you don’t comment on it, content with tucking one of his stray curls behind his ear before you spring up the steps, stepping away from his overwhelmed and utterly entranced form. 

Damn. 

He’s scrolling through his phone when the 1st inning ends, thumb whisking over the lists of required paperwork, the $50 dollar notarial fee, the Kon-in Todoke, mentally counting up the required signatures, the necessary witnesses. This is crazy, he thinks, skimming over the U.S. Embassy & Consulate regulations on the ‘Affidavit of Competency to Marry’ in Japan, he hasn’t even talked with you about this, but he’s honestly never felt more sure of anything in his life.

Right as he flips to a secondary tab, one that holds a few jewelry stores and ideas about ‘how to pop the question,’ he catches sight of you. You slide down the row of empty seats, your hands filled with various snacks and a tall glass of foaming beer. 

“Sorry! Wasn’t expecting to take that long, I completely missed the 1st inning! Good thing no one scored. Hopefully things will liven up with the 2nd and 3rd innings.” You settle in beside him, setting your beer against the cold concrete before jostling your popcorn and hot dog to your opposite hand, eyes peering over the brightly lit field. 

Kiyoomi bites back his grin and switches his phone off, obscuring the glittering pixels of diamonds and his future plans from view and tucks his device into his jacket pocket. You turn to look at him, your eyes narrowing and brow arching at his poorly controlled attempts to hide his giddiness. 

“What?” 

“Nothing,” he replies, slinging a long arm around your shoulders, tugging you close and planting a quick kiss against your temple.

“Liar,” you accuse, leaning back, eyes following the sharp angles of his handsome face.

“What made you pick baseball? You feeling homesick or something?”

“Hmph, no! I just...hmm, how to put this. I figured it’d be nice to take you to a game that’s not volleyball. One that we can just watch. There’s no need to worry about analyzing anyone’s performance, or your own here…you can just relax.”

Kiyoomi cocks his head at you, a few errant curls falling over his brow. “Do I do that when we go to a volleyball game?”

You nearly choke on your beer. “Mmm...koff...do you do that? Did you seriously just ask me that?”

“Yeah,” he affirms, obsidian eyes watching you closely. Wait, is he a pain to go to a game with?

“Kiyoomi?”

“Hmm.”

“I wasn’t about to take you to a volleyball game for your birthday. That’d be like you taking me back to the office and asking me to celebrate with you in the staff break room. I mean, I know you love the sport, but it’s your job. It’s what you do all day. Besides, the last time we went to a match I don’t think you said more than five words to me and you were constantly writing down the plays on your phone. I–Oh! That’s not a bad thing, not at all! It makes sense,” you amend, catching sight of his abruptly ashen expression. 

“It’s just...you’re good...no good doesn’t cut it...you’re amazing at what you do. You’ve got that hunger that all the sports documentaries I’ve ever watched talk about and you’re constantly looking to improve. It’s impressive, really! But...I just thought this might be a change of pace. Something that we could both go to, could watch, with no additional stakes. Who cares who wins? I mean, I want the home team to, obviously, but we can leave here when it’s over and just take memories, not more worries or challenges. And definitely not any notes. Sorry, that prolly’ sounds so rude, but I really want you to relax today. You more than deserve it.”

“It’s perfect,” Kiyoomi confirms, finally leaning back against the strong plastic of his seat, pulling you closer, bringing his knee toward your thigh, pressing until he can feel the heat of you past the material of his jeans. “Thank you.”

“No need to thank me,” you laugh. “It’s the least I could do. If you’re happy, then I’m happy! Oh! Speaking of, you gotta try this beer! It’s so good!”

He looks skeptically down at the plastic glass that’s still clutched between your fingers. “No. I’m not drinking out of that cup.”

“Kiyoomi,” you begin, fixing him with a hard stare. “You know we live together, right? If I pick anything up from this, then, and I hate to tell you this, but you’ll get it too, eventually.”

With a scoffed exhale and a curl of his lip he leans away from you, nose wrinkling distastefully at your threat.

“Come on,” you taunt, shaking the cup playfully in your hand, “You won’t regret it!”

“No.”

“Ugh, you’re no fun, you know that?”

“Never heard that before,” he laughs, coiling himself toward you, his arm around your back, squeezing you closer, holding on as tight as he can. 

It’s dark when the two of you get back home, but you won’t let him flip on the overhead lights, not yet. “Just wait, gimme a sec. There’s one more thing I wanna do...why don’t you go sit on the couch. I’ll turn on the lamp and be right back, promise.”

Obediently, he perches on the edge of the cushions and waits. 

He can hear you as you move around the kitchen, and he feels like he can still feel the warmth of your skin under his fingertips. Throughout the game, on the cab ride home, as he stood behind you in the darkened hallway, waiting for you to unlock the door, he’d kept his hands on you. It was like you were some kind of magnet and he couldn’t help but be tugged forward by your irresistible pull. 

“Hey! Close your eyes!” you call, feet soft against the wood as you pad back to him. He shakes his head at your request, a faint smile pulling at his lips, but he obliges you. How can he not? “No peeking,” you warn, and he it’s like he can almost feel you again as you come to stand in front of him once more. “Alright…I think that’s good. Now...open them!”

The space in front of him is bathed in a soft glow, with whisking yellows and gentle oranges dancing, flickering across your arms. The light from the candle illuminates your face, catching against your eyes and making them shine, and he’s honestly not sure if he’s breathing anymore. 

“I know it’s not much,” you justify, cupping your fingers around the delicate flame and lifting the cupcake toward him. “But I learned my lesson last year. Got you that huge cake and the leftovers languished in the fridge for almost a week. And you know what they say, less is more, right?”

Without thinking, his hands race forward, gripping your waist and pulling you closer. “Woah,” you exhale, a laugh bubbling from your lips. “Careful! I don’t wanna catch you on fire. Some birthday that would be. Come on, time’s a’wasting birthday boy, blow it out and make a wish!”

He’d lied earlier. 

When he’d thought that there was nothing special about birthdays. There is something special about this birthday and, for the first time, he knows just what he’s going to wish for. 

It’s easy to blow out the light. It’s a little harder to protect the cupcake from his downward tug, his hands insistent, firm, but somehow you safely tuck it behind you and twist back to him, fingers lacing into his onyx curls. 

“What did you wish for?” you ask, settling yourself across his lap.

“Can’t tell you yet,” Kiyoomi answers honestly, lips already seeking yours.

“Huh? You’re not supposed to tell me at all!”

“Too bad,” he intones, silencing any further retorts with the heady persuasion of his caresses and wandering touch. “I’m gonna tell you soon. Now let me enjoy you.”

notes: hbd! shoutout to @albinoburrito for her excellent edits and suggestions :*

[praphit]

Shang-Chi! and the Rings of Daddy Murder Death!

When the trailer for this movie first came out, I was hyped! From the cast, to the bad ass bus scene, to Wong vs The Abomination,

 I was sold! 

Of course you had the people who came out saying "This is Marvel trying to be woke again. Hate crimes against Asian people on the rise, and here comes Marvel with Shang-Chi" We know this to be crazy, because Marvel already had this in the works, but certain people still reacted that way. But, even if that notion were true, would that be so bad?

It wouldn't absolve the ignorance, hatred, violence, and toxicity. But, if someone in Hollywood said "We've screwed over Asian people in films for like... ever. What if this time we choose a popular Asian character to base a movie on, and we DON'T do that?"

Now, (being that this movie supposedly leans on Chinese culture, with Shang-Chi being Chinese) China might argue that they still did them wrong (valid racist historical ptsd, cultural splicing, the whole martial arts thing, plus the main character is actually Canadian). It's not my place to weigh-in. But, I will say that making Shang-Chi Canadian, NOT a martial artist, but instead a hockey player, who loves Drake, and co-starring another Canadian, like Micheal Cera or someone 

probably wouldn't have worked as well for the MCU. Then, maybe Canada would have a problem with Marvel. I don’t envy movie-makers in this context. 

When I was a kid I was big into Black Belt Theater, Bruce Lee movies, 

Bruce Leroy, 

and within my love for martial arts and fighting entertainment was 

Shang-Frickin-Chi. 

I liked it, though I remember it being a lil racist. It's weird going back in time to see your fav childhood shows and books that wouldn't fly today:

I mean we've certainly been a lot more sensitive these days:

Regardless, Shang-Chi is here! (played by Canada's main man Simu Liu) He goes by the name of Shaun! 

Don't let that name fool you. Shaun will whup that ass! He says "Bleep all those super powers, and serums, a suits, and magic, and the rubber bones of Widow! That's some ol bullshit! All I need is my Wu-Tang style!" A style fueled by his daddy issues. And he's got some serious daddy issues. To be fair, his dad is the villain of the story. If your father was the active villain of your story, you'd also have issues.

Awkwafina is his sidekick

(much better than Michael Cera would be), she plays as Katy. That's fun. Every Katy I've ever known has been fun... and a heavy drinker:) This Katy is here to drive fast and crack jokes.

Ladies and Gentlemen, your new Marvel duo!

It's not just daddy issues for Shang-Chi, but mommy issues (she dead), avoidance issues, his sister kicks him in the balls. He didn't even seem shocked. I mean, his balls were shocked, for sure, but it seemed like she just did that all of the time. I'm imagining Christmas when they were kids. "Here's your gift, bro. KNEE TO THE NUTS Merry Christmas" What kind of relationship is that? And why?! - well, he did abandon her for like 10 years, but... you know, that's plenty of time for her to get over it, right?? So, we'll say sister issues, his daddy training him to be an assassin issues, and his friends have issues with him! - AND KATY! They don't respect Marvel's new duo. They think Shaun and Katy should be doing more with their lives.

They are both valets during the day, and at night they rock drunken karaoke. That seems like the perfect life to me.

But, Daddy and his power rings couldn't allow them to keep living the dream. I haven't mentioned the ten rings yet. 

They give him super-duper-magical martial arts powers, and make him eternal. AND made him an asshole.

To be fair, he was probably already an asshole before the powers. He's been killing a lot of people. You figure he's been around for 1000+ years. His wife is dead, and he has no hobbies. It's not like he kills a few people and then goes home to read a book, or play video games, or make TikTok videos. It's sunrise to sunset killing all day, every day for generations. Then, he forms an evil terrorist group called "Ten Rings" to amplify his killing.

"Murder Death Rings" are what they should be called.

"Daddy Death Punchy Time"

""Dead Doomy Rangs of Killer Dad"

"The Legendary Killer Rings of Deadly Death Death Murder Pops"

"The... " sorry, I've been drankin a lil bit while I write... I lost my place.

I like "Daddy Death" Where was I?

Right! He can't have Shaun being happy! We've gotta get this plot going, so he sends the only white dude he can find in this movie to start some trouble for them. I guess, there might have been a couple of more white people in the film, but they all got the snot beat out of them in that bus scene. This white dude's name is "Razor Fist", yep... "Razor Fist!". 

At least they didn't stick to the original design. 

Ridiculous. How does he use the bathroom?

He's played by Florian Munteanu, who is a former heavy weight boxer. Yeah! Was also in "Creed" his nickname is "The Big Nasty". Isn't that a drink? A bartender once offered me to sample a drink called "The Big Nasty". I chose to go with a drink that doesn't have "nasty" in its title. ... I think he was offering me a drink.

???

"Daddy Murder Death" and "Sharp Fisty Man" spark this thang. And Shaun becomes Shang-Chi, beater of ass!

The visuals in this movie are the best Marvel has done to date. The action is so good. I just got finished raving about the action in "Black Widow"; this surpasses that. I dug the cast. I know some people don't like Awkwafina, but... get over it. She was great in this; everybody was!

I loved the soundtrack! I'm not normally the "I loved the soundtrack guy" , but it was perfect. It begs to be mentioned.

No issues with the story. And the emotions that they're stirring in you. Whew!

One moment I'm enjoying the beater of ass, then Katy is making me laugh, then the slew of issues got me in my feelings, then the visuals wow me, then more swelling issues, back to ass beating - all the way through.

And the ending! True, Marvel has a formula (and this sticks to it), but if it ain't broken, why bleep with it?? The ending was Game of Thrones-ish, but with light so a brotha can see, and all the colors of the rainbow - like a Skittles commercial with martial arts.  Fun! - so not like GOT at all, I guess. The only fun they had was when there was torture or prostitution going on.

I don't have anything bad to say about the movie. They could have shaved 5-10 mins off, but I won't take off for that; there's just too much to love about this!

Grade: A+

Fun for the whole family! I can see the fam working through some issues after the watch.

Daughter: "You know, Dad. That asshole dad of Shang-Chi kinda reminds me of you."

Mom: "Daughter! You do NOT talk to your father that way!"

Daughter: “Just sayin...”

Dad: "That's interesting, cuz his ungrateful, bitch of a daughter reminds me of YOU!"

Mother and Daughter: *gasp

Son: *laughs

Dad: "All I want you to do is take your school work seriously and maybe date a guy who doesn't smell like weed!"

Daughter: "I'll have you know that's his natural smell! And maybe I'd focus more on school, if I didn't have to focus on YOU being such a BLEEPING ASSHOLE, DAD!"

See, that's healthy dialogue, right there. Maybe the family that watches this movie buys mommy a bunch of guns for protection, so she doesn't end up dead like the mommy in this movie. Like a ridiculous amount of guns!

And I could see brother and sister kicking each other in the crotch to resolve their differences. BUT, if they're close-by, fighting each other, then there's no time to abandon one another.

Marvel does it again!

Whichever of the Marvel films is your favorite, this one will probably be up there as well.

[propshophannah]

Am I the only one who thought the book had a lot of sexist undertones? Like preemptively modifying your body to MAYBE one day give birth to your man's (male's) babies? I feel like the IC never tried to let Nesta heal in her own way, they just forced her to do things they thought would be good for her, while demeaning her along the way. And the shield thing around Feyre is very reminiscent of how Tamlin treated her in ACOTAR... I don't know, a lot of the book just made me uncomfortable :/

Hi Nonnie!

First, I want to say that I’m sorry parts of this book made you uncomfortable. That’s never fun. Second…

I think we can reasonably say that no matter what we’re looking at, we can find sexism if we want to. Now that doesn’t mean that some things are not just blatantly sexist. I think with this book there is a conversation to be had about what some of us read as sexist and what some of us read as not sexist or even pro different-forms-of-feminism.

It’s sort of in the eye of the beholder.

It’s also a fantasy world that has developed under a patriarchy. So some things are just as sexist as they “should be” because that’s the world building, right? 

So, like, territorial Fae males is fully explained in the world building and is therefore fully acceptable for the books, and is also, frankly, a kink. SJM caters to that kink. So we know we’re going to get that in these books. Most if their shit is NOT okay for planet Earth. (That’s why some of us actively seek it and enjoy reading it in books.)

So let’s get in it!

Nesta modifying her body

Now as far as Nesta modifying her own body to have children one day, I don’t see that as sexist at all. Because the alternative to her altering her own anatomy is her pausing for a moment and asking Cassian if she can strip him of his faerie race and make him something else that doesn’t have wings. If that happened, we’d be getting into race and identity and all kinds of other shit that is hella problematic. 

So, no. Nesta wanting to one day birth her own children is not sexist. Nesta deciding to alter her own anatomy so that she can safely birth her own children with Cassian, is not sexist. (Now if Cassian did it without permission, then we’d have a problem!)

The IC making Nesta heal their way

Now THIS is a conversation on choice. Not sexism. Rhys has long touted that his court is a court of choices and all that. So forcing Nesta to either go to the human lands (where she’ll very likely die) or go to the House of Wind (where she can’t readily leave) and train and work everyday, is a problem. If you want to make an argument that this is the equivalent of Tamlin locking Feyre in the house, I won’t stop you. I would only ask that you consider the nuance. 

And the nuance here takes us back to world building. They don’t have psychiatric wards or mental health services or rehab centers like we do on planet Earth. Nesta needed help. AND LET ME BE REAL CLEAR: I’m not here to debate what kind of help she needed. (We could run in circles all day long debating that.) What I am saying is that they recognized that: 

Nesta’s behavior was not good, 

that THEY WERE ENABLING HER, 

that they actually had the power to do something about her situation

They do not live in a democracy. They live in a monarchy. They have and hold absolute power and rule. And while that whole intervention—or whatever the fuck that was—was absolutely TERRRRIBLE, they had every right to do what they did. Why? Because it fit the world building.

They acted like rich parents fed up with a wild teenager so they cut her off and gave her a choice between getting kicked out of the house or going to work on grandpa’s farm in the middle of BFE. Essentially that’s what they did.

Do I agree with it? Eh... they didn’t have a lot of options and SOMETHING needed to happen (I’d have been VERY ANGRY had they left her to die like that). Do I like it? FUCK NO. They went about it all wrong and it was shitty.

Abandoning her in the human lands would have been fucking murder. But do you HONESTLY, HONESTLY think Feyre would have done that??? ALSO, LET’S BE REAL: Nesta would not have stayed there long because EVERY HIGH LORD knows about her power and would want her in their court. That whole shit about the human lands likely was NOT real and was a scare tactic. It was a shitty scare tactic. But again, it fit the world building. AND Nesta’s character (cuz it worked, she didn’t ask to go to the human lands). 🤷🏻‍♀️ 

This isn’t directed at you Nonnie, but what did people think would happen? There would suddenly be psych wards and rehab centers and Feyre and Rhys would start acting with compassion and kindness and like they themselves had gone to therapy for decades and suddenly be able to convince Nesta to sign herself into one of those facilities? 

I get it’s annoying. And it’s infuriating. And some of their bullshit talking out their ass moments made me want to throw the book across the damn room. Because that’s not how you act to people in the middle of a downward spiral/crisis like Nesta was. 

But here’s the thing: they have no basis for knowing better. They don’t have mental health services. Gwyn mentioned a priestess who counsels them, but that’s NOT the same thing as a therapist or psychologist or psychiatric NP or psychiatrist.

So what did people expect?

Also. Do you think for one second, Nesta would have responded well to compassionate attempts to get her help? She hadn’t hit rock bottom yet (where compassion would have worked wonderfully *depending* on the type of rock bottom she hit). She would have seen any attempt like that as pity and she would have rebelled.

Here’s how I get over being annoyed with Feysand and Amren for that dumb af “intervention” moment: I remind myself that

They recognized she couldn’t keep going down the path she was going.

They recognized that they loved her too much to let that happen (Feyre at least). 

They recognized that they held ABSOLUTE POWER over her in their realm

They recognized that they needed to put her in a place where she had a purpose, a routine, where she couldn’t fall back on old habits, and where she had the option to talk to other trauma survivors (if she chose to) 

That’s what they knew. Putting her in the House was their only choice. So they did. And guess what? It worked. 

Now, the forcing her to train thing was BULLSHIT. You can’t force other people to change, they have to want that for themselves. But guess what? Turns out Nesta wanted to change. Because she wasn’t against training. She was only against doing it in a place where she could be judged. 🤷🏻‍♀️ 

Also, exercising is FUCKING FANTASTIC for mental health. (Maas knows that.)

Now did they demean her along the way? Yes. 

Was it shitty? HELL, YES! 

Did Rhys finally learn his lesson that night with the nightmare? He sure af did! 

Did some people in the fandom expect too much from Amren? Yep. Lady was never going to show affection or be nice to Nesta. Amren shows respect. When you respect Amren, she respects you. That’s her ENTIRE character. We’re three books in with Amren. Idk why people are still butthurt about her personality. Like. You can’t get mad at Amren for not being a table when she’s always been a chair. (Doesn’t mean we have to like her behavior or anyone else’s. But it does mean that we only have ourselves to blame when she acts the way she always has.) This same logic applied to Mor and Feyre and Elain etc.

Also. Did them acting like assholes drive the plot forward? IT SURE AF DID! If they had acted differently the book wouldn’t be as good as it is.

The shield around Feyre

If you want to make the argument about how this is a Tamlin thing to do, I won’t stop you. But again, I’ll ask you to consider the nuance and the world building. 

In a world where anyone can scent a pregnancy, would you not try to hide your ruler’s pregnant scent and body from enemies and potential attacks? I would! 

Is it a little territorial? Yes. 

Does that make sense for the world building and what we know about Fae males? Yep! 

Could Feyre have told Rhys to cut the shit? Yes. 

Is it possible Feyre *maybe* use the lie of Rhys and Helion(?) having fun with shield as an excuse to have it around herself? Yeah. I’d probably do it. 

Look, if Feyre hadn’t wanted the shield, it would have been gone. They said it was a compromise, but you can’t tell me Rhys would force a shield around her against her own will (or that she, The Cursebreaker, wouldn’t bust through it in a heartbeat).

Sorry if this comes off as salty, Nonnie! I don’t mean to be. I just don’t really understand why people get mad at stuff in books *that’s perfectly reasonable* for the world building when the alternative that they would prefer would be out of character, out the world building, or create plot holes etc. 

Hope this helps!

[meltwonu]

| caffeine |     [chapter 1]

pairing; fratboy!wonwoo x female!reader

this chapter’s notes;  some smut, mild degradation. (some art history bs cuz I, in actuality, am a nerd) can I get a yeehaw! we’re finally kickin’ this off~ this is mostly just the lead up with some mild touchin’ but you know how it is~ thank you all for being so patient! can't wait to get the next chapter out 💕 

chapters; 1 - x - x - x - x

It’s 10:48am when Mingyu all but begs you to return his art history books on Dadaism back to the campus library. You give him 4 sentences to explain why you should be the one to do it; the tall male whining that he’s already late for his exam on Baroque art.

“Can you not be a bitch for 4 seconds, please? I’m literally begging you and I know for a fact you need to get books on that fuckin’ art and gender course so don’t play me like you’re not heading there anyway!” Mingyu shoves his books into your arms, adjusting the messenger bag on his shoulder.

“I swear after the rager on friday, I’ll take you out to get those mochi donuts on saturday, okay? I gotta go!”

He gives you no time to respond, jetting off to his already-late exam. You roll your eyes, adjusting the books in your arms as you begin the trek to the library. Mingyu was a friend that you’d met in your Intro to Photography class with Minghao, another mutual friend of yours. Both of them were no-doubt handsome and insanely educated when it came to art and art history but both of them were also part of the SVT House; one of the most notorious frat houses on Greek Row. They threw parties every other week, inviting the entire campus to show up if the cops didn’t show up first. Mingyu had invited you to a few in the past but you’d always decline; citing that you rather not be around when the cops showed up. You always wondered how Minghao dealt with being in a frat house knowing he typically hated loud parties and huge crowds of strangers.

When you finally get to the library, you struggle with the door, the damned books making it difficult for you to pull the handle open. A kind soul helps you out, a small ‘thank you’ leaving your lips before you make a beeline for the receptionist desk to return Mingyu’s books. Noticing a different male there than the usual librarian, you quirk a brow.

“Um, hello?” He spares you a glance, closing a few windows on the computer he was working on before he walks over to your side of the table. You take in his features; sharp eyes, silvery blue hair, wire frame glasses, pressed white shirt under an argyle printed sweater vest tucked into beige pressed chinos. He looked like a stereotypical version of what most people would think a librarian looked like but also had the features of a high class model. You were sure you’d seen him around, probably when you’d run into Mingyu or Minghao between classes.

“Yes, can I help you?” Fuck, you think, his voice is hot too. You can feel your body heating up just from his voice alone and you take a second to recover, stuttering as you set the books down on the counter.

“Y-yeah, um, I--uh, just wanted to return these books? That’s all.”

Cursing under your breath for stuttering, you miss the way his lips quirk up into a small smile.

“Sure, let me just scan these in.” You opt to just nod, saving yourself from any further fuck ups with talking as you watch him grab the scanner.

“Hmm, it says Mingyu borrowed these books. Can I ask why you’re returning these and not himself?”

“O-oh, we’re friends. He was late to his art exam and I needed to do some work here so… figured I’d just return them for him since he’s already suffering.” He laughs, sliding the books off the counter and placing them on the return cart for later.

“I don’t see why he didn’t just give them to me this morning but I guess the beer pong from last night must’ve been the reason for him being late.” You sigh, “I knew there’d be a stupid reason he’d be late for his exam. Anyway, thanks for helping me…?” You leave the question open ended, wanting to get his name before you disappeared to one of the empty study rooms. He smiles at you again, dusting off his hands on his neatly pressed pants.

“Hi, my name’s Wonwoo. I volunteer here at the campus library every day from 10am to about 2pm. If you need anything, just let me know!” He shakes your hand, eyes twinkling as he gives you a quick up and down from behind the receptionist desk. You give him your name; watching him as he whispers it under his breath, lips tilting up into a warm and inviting smile.

“It’s nice to meet you. I hope we’ll get along well.”

You hate the way the image of Wonwoo smiling at you is embedding into your eyelids while you try to work; the stupid essay sitting in front of you still blank even when you get up to look for materials on the course an hour and a half later. Checking the kiosk to find out where the said art and gender books were, you make your way through the bookshelves, not finding any of the books you were looking for. You contemplate for a second, wondering if you really want to go visit Wonwoo at the receptionist desk. Fuck it, you think, I’ll get my books and I swear I’ll finish this damn essay before I leave, it’s not just eye candy.

“Hey, Wonwoo?” He turns away from the return cart, adjusting his glasses as he walks over to you at the counter. “Yes, what can I do for you?”

“Um, I… it said the art and gender books were on the shelves but they weren’t, uh, there? Can you… check for me please?” He nods, sitting down at the computer while you recite the necessary info to him. Wonwoo jots down a few notes on a notepad, getting up and gesturing for you to follow him as he tears the sheet off.

“Sorry, I’m new here so we might get lost but I think they might’ve accidentally been shelved in the wrong section of the library.” He threads through different bookshelves, taking you deeper and deeper into the library until there’s hardly anyone around.

When he finally stops, you’re in a section of the library you don’t recognize, the emptiness mildly eerie as Wonwoo searches for the said books.

“Wanna give me a little snippet of what these books are about while we’re here?” He didn’t strike you as a small talk kind of person but you shrug behind him; you were already there, might as well.

“Um, it’s just, kind of how different genders consume and interpret the human form in art. Lots of it is old and outdated but it’s for an art course I’m taking right now. Y’kno, things like the ‘male gaze’ and stuff. I’m sure it’d bore you to death.” Wonwoo hums in acknowledgement, turning to face you as he slowly backs you up against the bookshelf. It takes you off guard as you hold your breath, eyes boring into the argyle print on his sweater vest.

“Interesting course you’re taking. I don’t think it’d bore me though, I’m quite enamoured with the female form.” You’re convinced if you breathed wrong, he’d feel it with how close he was. But he whispers a small ‘ah-hah’, his hand resting on the shelf next to your head as he pulls out a singular book. Wonwoo steps back, placing the book in your trembling hands.

“That’s one book, 3 more to find.”

He continues like that, his body in close proximity to yours the entire time you stand there, unsure of what to do. Wonwoo finds two more of your books, setting them on an empty shelf nearby as he checks his note for the last one. You mentally curse yourself for wearing a sundress to the library because you can feel the back of his hand grazing your thigh when he kneels on the floor next to you, hand placed on the shelf and eyes scanning for the damned book you don’t even care about anymore.

“Hmm, I can’t seem to find this last one. Weird. Maybe someone checked it out already and it got misscanned.”

“Oh, um, that’s fine, this should be g-good. I can check the shelf myself or something!”

“Are you sure? I don’t mind helping you out back here. I wouldn’t want you to do it alone, you know. Joshua should have already come in for his shift already anyway.” Wonwoo stands back up, his face close to your body as he towers above you. “Don’t you want my help? I don’t really offer it very often.” The suggestive tone in his voice has you clenching around nothing, already embarrassingly wet. You hope to a higher power that he can’t tell but something inside of you already knows that he’s aware of his affect on you.

“O-okay, please… please help me.”

You swear you’ll finish your essay.

Right after Wonwoo finishes getting you off.

He touches you underneath your dress, fingers pressed firmly against the wet patch on your panties as you bite your lip to keep in your moans.

“You’ve only met me today and you’re already this wet for me? You’re such an easy little thing. Do you get this turned on just for anyone or am I doing that much damage to you?” It’s a rhetorical question, but Wonwoo waits patiently; wanting to hear your reply anyway. Under any other circumstances, you’d probably punch a guy that called you easy, but for some reason the way Wonwoo says it has you getting even wetter.

“I, mmh, don’t normally… d-do this I swear.” He has you pressed against the bookshelf, a leg slotted in between yours as he braces his other hand next to your head. Wonwoo’s thumb presses hard against your clit, the fabric of your panties adding extra friction as you grind down onto his hand. “Oh? So I am just that special, huh? Lucky me, I’ve got such a cute girl cumming in the palm of my hand.” He chuckles at his own joke, glasses sliding down the bridge of his nose ever so slightly.

Your hands dig into the fabric of his sweater vest, wanting nothing more than to just cum so you can go back to working on your essay and simultaneously dying of embarrassment that you got that turned on from a guy you’d just met a couple hours ago and he made you cum in some back part of the library.

“Wonwoo, can you… touch me harder, I’m really close...” You whisper. He hums, his fingertips grazing the hem of your panties.

“Harder? Or would you want my fingers instead? I wonder how many of them you could take before you’re begging me to just fuck you?” The juxtaposition of his words and his gentle touch is enough to send you over the edge, biting your lip to keep in any sounds that threaten to escape. He lets you ride out your orgasm before his hand is slipping from underneath your dress and he’s pulling away. Your dress slides back down into place, not a hair on your head looking disheveled other than the fact your face is redder than a tomato.

Wonwoo adjusts his glasses, hands immediately smoothing down any wrinkles on his clothes after.

“My shift is almost up here and I need to get to my archeology class afterwards but if you’re ever curious about the male form, I’m a willing subject.” 

[actuallybarb]

The Aftermath ~ Part 2

Summary: y/n gets knocked around by a water monster, has secret-sharing time with peter, and decides mj is more important than her pride. sleep deprivation and caffeine consumption are definitely involved. 

Pairing: peter parker x reader

Warnings: swearing, angst, fluff, mysterio being a dick, trauma, it’s marvel what did you expect

Word Count: 3978 give or take

A/N: endgame is canon, *vomits*, but we’ve all got a thing for broken peter parker, even if all i want is his never ending happiness

                                                         ///////////

“I can’t believe you punched Flash.” Brad, of course, decided to sit next to me on the gondola ride to the hotel. Figures.

“You better believe it, ‘cuz it actually happened.” I tried to pay as little attention to him as possible and just take pictures on my phone, but he kept talking.

“Why don’t you like me?”

I groaned. “Because, Brad, you ask stupid questions like that.”

We pulled up to the hotel and were all sufficiently underwhelmed.

“It’s flooded!”

“The hotel is sinking?”

I considered helping the hotel out, at least while we stayed at it, but there wasn’t much hope left for it. I took my room key and thanked my lucky stars I didn’t have a room on the ground level. In fact, I was sharing with MJ. I waited patiently behind her as she jiggled the door open.

“Is it safe to assume the building will crumble any second now?”

MJ burst out laughing. “I think that’s an understatement.”

“If I get TB, I’m suing.”

“The hotel?”

“Harrington.”

She smiled. “C’mon, let’s get outside before we drown.”

We walked along the water and let the sun happily reflect on our exhausted faces. Everyone was enjoying themselves, but I was starting to feel queasy. It was almost imperceptible, but I could feel the city moving with the water, and it was making me sick. I started lagging back and tried to find my “sea legs,” but Peter noticed and stuck back too. “You alright?”

I plastered on a weak smile. “That long flight is catching up with me. I’m just going to grab an espresso, I’ll meet up with you guys soon.” He looked at me one more time before nodding and meeting the rest of the group.

I didn’t completely lie — I was getting an espresso. But I wasn’t going to catch up with them, at least, not for a while. I needed to get away from the water, even just for a little bit.

I can’t fly, per se. I can control the air currents around me and change them how I want them too, like I did on the airplane with the turbulence. I can do that with most elements, (except wood, I hate wood) and that gives me a heightened awareness of them. I’m basically the Avatar and the characters from Percy Jackson. All I have to do is shave my head and tattoo blue arrows on my body. (And, yes, I did watch all seven seasons of the two series and read all ten Percy Jackson books to actually figure out what the hell it was that I could do. It helped. Clearly.)

I just lifted myself to the top of the coffee shop. I’m a sucker for espresso, I like to be close to it. The distance helped. I felt grounded enough to walk on the normal streets of Venice again, but when I touched down, I suddenly lurched to the right.

“What the hell,” I muttered. I got my answer soon enough. A huge river monster was crashing its giant water arms on anything it could see. And I was directly in its path. “Oh, shit.”

I shouldn’t have been as terrified as I was. I mean, come on, I can control water. Dissipate the water man, Y/N, I can almost hear you yelling at me. Shut up, I was scared. This thing was twice as tall as any of the buildings, and it had a direct path to anywhere in the city. Me, a seventeen year old girl, against that? Not a good idea.

So, like any logical human being, I ran. And I still got clobbered with water and ended up actually falling into the water. Let me just tell you, Italy needs to get a Brita, ‘cause their river is nasty.

But, once I was actually in the water, the river monster looked a lot less intimidating. Sure, the water was churning around and sucking everything into its path, but I was in my element — literally. I got close to it, like, really close. I pushed against the flow of the water and tried to stop the monster from forming, and it worked, for a little bit. It slowed down, and I got some newfound momentum, when all of the sudden, it all stopped, and tons of water crashed to the surface. That was my cue to leave, but then something caught my eye. A flash of metal was in the water. Luck would have it, though, that I could bend water and metal (shout out to Toph Beifong). I latched onto the metal and pulled it close to me, but I couldn’t make out what it was. Didn’t mean I would trash it though, this water was disgusting enough. I tucked it in my pocket and started swimming to the surface.

I got out of the water actually pretty close to the rest of the class, but I was the only one completely drenched.

“Oh, Y/N, good! We’re all here,” Mr. Harrington celebrated. “Let’s get back to the hotel, your families will want to know you’re all fine.”

“You’re soaked.”

I shivered, even though it wasn’t cold. The temperature difference between the water and the air was enough to make me shake. “Astute observation, Brad.”

“Here, you can have my jacket.”

“Thanks, but I don’t want it.” I kept walking and managed to bump into Peter. “You got wet too?”

“Just splashed. Did you get thrown in?”

“Yeah, the bastard caught me by surprise. I’m okay, just cold.”

“Here.” Peter slung his backpack around and took out a mostly dry sweatshirt. He gestured it my way, but I didn’t take it. “It’s just a jacket, Y/N. You’ll get a cold with your hair dripping all around you.”

I knew that wasn’t how colds worked, but I took it anyway and let it soak in the water from my hair. It helped, surprisingly, at least making me not shiver. We made it back to the hotel with no other complications, aside from Flash tripping over his own shoelace because he was too busy recording for his Instagram followers to pay attention to where he was going. I quickly went upstairs and changed out of my clothes, putting on a pair of sweats and a sweatshirt that used to belong to Jessica. The room had a tiny balcony, and I took advantage of it and laid out all of my clothes and Peter’s sweatshirt. The last thing MJ or I needed was a puddle of water to slip in.

I went back downstairs and sat close to the top of the stairs, not wanting to get anywhere near the water at the bottom. MJ was a few steps below me, and Peter was leaning against the stairs, talking to someone on the phone. He hung up, and I slipped past MJ and wrapped around to the phone. I was about to dial, when I remembered something. “Hey, Peter.”

“What’s up?”

I pulled him away from the stairs and whispered, “Is the plan still working?”

“The—oh, that plan. Uh, yeah, I think so. I got her this necklace of a black dahlia from a glass shop, and I want to give it to her at the top of the Eiffel Tower.”

I smiled. “That’s adorable. I’m going to use the phone, do you mind?”

“Oh, sorry, I’ll get out of your way.” We smiled at each other, then I grabbed the receiver and dialed.

“Hello?”

“Hi, Mom, it’s Y/N.”

“Oh my—John, it’s her. Are you okay? Are you hurt?”

“I’m fine, I’m fine. Harrington wanted all of us to call our parents, so this is me, doing my due diligence. We’re still set for Paris tomorrow, so I’ll call you then, okay? Love you.” I didn’t even really wait for them to respond before I hung up. Truth was, I didn’t want to talk to them. I didn’t really want to talk to anyone, but I had to make one more phone call.

“Hello?”

“Hi, Jess, it’s Y/N. You watch the news nonstop, so I figured I’d call, let you know I’m okay.”

“Thank god, I was so worried about you. What happened?”

“This water monster literally came out of nowhere and knocked me straight into the murky junk, it was disgusting.”

“Were you able to help at all?” Jess was one of two other people in the world who knew about what I could do. She was the one who bought me the tv shows and books, of course she knew.

“I slowed it down at some point, but then all of a sudden it just dissipated, it was weird. I did find this weird metal thing in the water, I picked it up. I’ll send you a picture of it when I get the chance.”

“Okay. Call me soon, got it?”

“Count on it. Love you.”

“Love you too.”

I wasn’t in the mood to talk anymore, so I walked up the stairs, ready to succumb to the moldy mattress in my room. Unfortunately, I had to collect my clothes.

Everything was nearly dry, and Peter’s sweatshirt was definitely dry, so I brought them inside. I almost didn’t want to give Peter his sweatshirt back, just because it was so soft, but knowing him, it was probably the only one he brought, so I walked the ten feet to his front door and knocked. I wasn’t told not to enter, so I turned the knob and walked in. “Hey, Pete, I—“ I stopped with my hand by my face, terrified. A small dart was less than an inch away from my palm. I turned to the man in the corner who was holding the gun. “Did you just try to shoot me?”

“You’re the one who came barging in.” The scary looking guy with the eyepatch leaned forward. “What’s your name?”

I laughed heartlessly. “Ha, yeah, like I’m going to tell the man who just pulled a gun on me.” I looked at Peter and threw his jacket at him. “I brought this back.” Then I turned to the man in the chair. I crunched the dart, letting it fold on top of itself before his eyes, then I let it fall to the floor. “You can keep that.” I looked at Peter one more time, then slammed the door on my way out.

MJ was laying on her bed when I walked back in, but she could tell something was up. She had impeccable observational skills. “You good?”

I was pacing, a bad habit I picked up after The Snap first happened. “I just need to look something up.”

“Well, the hotel might be sinking, but they’ve at least got good wifi.”

I finally sat and opened my laptop, then turned on my VPN and put the whole device on ‘incognito mode.’ I had some serious investigations to conduct, I didn’t need the government to see what I was doing. Okay, I only had one serious investigation, but that could possibly have lead to more, so I kept my guard up.

First search: scary-looking black man with an eyepatch. The guy’s face was the first image that popped up. Nick Fury. Ex-director of SHIELD before all of that went to shit. Now he’s running some ‘underground’ SHIELD, I guess. Now I know the guy’s name.

But why was he talking to Peter? And why did he shoot me?

I was up all night doing research. Not just on Nick Fury, but on the metal piece I had found in the water, the Avengers, and as much as I could find on Peter Parker himself. Sooner than I thought, the sun peeked between the curtains at the window and MJ’s alarm came blaring through the speakers on her phone.

“Morning,” I mumbled, rubbing my eyes and finally taking a break from my computer screen.

“Did you sleep at all?”

“Are you going to yell at me if I say no?” MJ just pursed her lips. I knew she wouldn’t.

It wouldn’t be the first time I’ve pulled an all nighter. At least this one was productive.

“What’s on your bed?” She picked up a small spring and looked it over before putting it back beside the rest of the pieces of the metal thing. “Did you take apart your toothbrush?”

I chuckled. “No, I found this thing in the river when I got knocked in. I didn’t know what it was, so I took it apart.”

“Have you figured it out?”

“Not yet.” I rubbed my eyes again and groaned. “We’re going to Paris today, right?”

“Yeah.” MJ stood and stretched and I caught the smallest smile on her face when she replied. I smiled too and packed up my project. Something for another late night.

We were escorted outside with our luggage in tow, but Mr. Harrington happily informed us we would be taking a bus to Prague instead of a train to Paris. You’ve got to be kidding.

Peter was walking to the bus in front of me, but I grabbed his arm and dragged him away. “What the hell, Peter?”

“You can control metal?” He was in awe. His admiration would’ve been flattering if I wasn’t so pissed.

“You had Nick Fury in your room last night. I almost got shot last night. What the hell is going on?”

“It was only a tranquilizer, you would’ve been fine—“

“That’s not the point, Parker!” I basically hissed at him. He looked a little surprised that I was so upset. I took a deep breath and tried to calm down enough to not start shouting. “We were attacked by a water monster, I almost got shot, I didn’t sleep, and now four people in the world know what I can do, so give me some damn answers, because I sure as hell deserve them.”

Peter looked around, like he was looking for an escape, but I was ready. I might not have slept in almost 48 hours, but I wasn’t going to let him get away so easily.

Then Harrington was calling us over to the bus. Perfect timing.

“Can we talk on the bus?”

I nodded and let him lead the way to the back. Surprisingly we were the only ones that occupied those seats and the ones surrounding, but that’s what happens when you get a bunch of nerds in the same vehicle—they all sit in the front. He sat low in his seat, and I did the same, and I let him start the conversation. Prying it out of him wouldn’t be too successful, I figured, not with something like this.

We got fifteen minutes out of the city before he started talking. “Fury wanted me to go with him to meet this guy who defeated the Elemental yesterday.”

“Why you? And what’s an Elemental?”

“The water monster, it’s called an Elemental. And he asked me because I’m—I’m,” his voice dropped to an even lower whisper, “I’m Spider-Man.”

I almost didn’t believe him.

I almost burst out laughing at the hilarity of it all. Peter Parker, Spider-Man? Ridiculous.

But, remember, I learned from Toph Beifong. I can tell when people are lying.

And Peter?

Peter wasn’t lying.

Well, shit.

How do I even respond to something like that?

“Okay.” Good one. “Who was the other guy you met with?”

“You—you’re not surprised?”

Oh, young Parker, I was dumbfounded. But I had learned two years earlier how to control my heart rate, so he would never know how freaked out I actually was.

“You saw me stop a dart mid-air, Peter, you being Spider-Man is hardly out of the ordinary.”

He looked relieved, but he still hadn’t answered my question.

“Who was the other guy?”

“Oh. His name is Quentin Beck. He’s—“ another low whisper, “he’s from an alternate universe. He fought the Elementals before, and he and them got sucked into our universe when Tha—Hulk brought everyone back.” He didn’t look me in the eye when he talked about the snaps. I wouldn’t either, but I felt the little blip his heart made at the mention of Thanos’s name, so I didn’t push. Even though Quentin Beck and his story sounded like bullshit.

“Do you have a picture of him?” Peter looked at me skeptically, but hooked up his mask to his phone. A somewhat blurry picture of Quentin Beck popped up, and he sent it to me, but he didn’t seem happy about it. “I just want to know who to look out for. If I start chucking rocks at people, I don’t want to hit the wrong one.” The lie seemed to relax him a little bit. It wasn’t a complete lie, I did want to know who to look out for, but I also wanted to find this guy in our universe. “What’s the plan now?”

“They think another one will pop up in Prague—“

“Peter, we’re driving toward Prague. Shouldn’t we be going away from it?”

“I have to help fight this thing—“

“Let the Beck guy do it!” My voice had risen above a whisper and Peter quickly shushed me. “He’s done it before, he can do it again.”

“They need my help, I can—“

“Peter.” He kept muttering, convincing himself he needed to help, but I wasn’t having it. “You don’t have to save the world, Peter.”

That got him to shut up.

“Yes, I do.”

“No, you don’t. You don’t owe the world a goddamn thing.”

“Help me.” That got me to shut up. “Help me fight the Elemental.”

“Why the hell would I do that?”

“Because you’re one of the only people who can! The next one that’s coming, they’re pretty sure it’s the fire elemental, and any time it absorbs metal it can get stronger. You can help us beat it by keeping the metal away from it!”

Oh. He didn’t know I could do more than that.

“Peter, I — ”

“Please.” Peter Parker had the best puppy-dog eyes I had ever seen in my life. But I wasn’t convinced.

“I’m here for a school trip, Pete, not to save the world.”

It’s like I sucker punched him. He deflated immediately and looked away, and I got up and moved a few rows ahead.

I wasn’t opposed to helping, but I didn’t want to get near Quentin Beck until I had a full story on him. And that would take a lot of research and caffeine.

“Hey, Eugene.” We had stopped for a bathroom break and he was still using his phone to update his Instagram followers on all of the happenings on our way to Prague.

“Are you here to break my jaw again, Y/L/N?”

I looked at his face and didn’t see any swelling, barely any discoloration. “Nope, you’re healing nicely, I’m impressed. Do you have a hotspot?”

“Why do you think I have a hotspot?”

“Because you’ve been on your phone the entire trip.”

“What will you do for me if I let you on it?”

I rolled my eyes and groaned. Of course he would ask for a favor. “Anything. Within reason.”

“Can I cash in on the favor later?”

Goddamnit. “Sure, whatever.”

He laughed maniacally. “Okay, Flash Hotspot is the user, and spidermanrocks is the password, no spaces, no caps.”

“Really, Eugene, you went with that password?” I almost had to laugh. He would have an aneurysm if he knew who was really Spider-Man.

“What?”

“It’s a bit obvious, don’t you think?”

He rolled his eyes. “Whatever. What were you doing with Parker?”

“Plotting the downfall of the European Union.” I let out a laugh. “We were talking about the water monster, and how there’s a light festival in Prague that’d be cool to go to.”

“Gonna go on a date with Penis Parker?”

“I was actually thinking about asking Brad.” That made Flash laugh, and I smiled myself. “But seriously, stop calling him that.”

“Whatever.”

Peter looked flustered as he got back on the bus, but I didn’t pry. But Brad looked awfully smug as he sat beside MJ. Focus, Y/N, you have to find Quentin Beck. I hunkered down in my seat and slipped my headphones over my ears, then logged onto Flash’s hotspot and got to work.

The number of illegal websites I went on was not something I’m willing to admit out loud, but I couldn’t find anything. Not a single facial-recognition scan showed any results for Quentin Beck, and I tried as many as I could get my hands on. But the more I looked at his face, the more I felt like I’d seen him before. And honestly, it was pissing me off.

I stared at the image on my phone, and I had a gut feeling it had to do with Tony Stark. This Beck guy was somehow connected to Stark. It’s like the answer was on the tip of my tongue. I rubbed my temples in frustration, wishing I could just reach into my memory and pull out the information when it hit me. “Memory, you’re so stupid, Y/N.”

Binarily Augmented Retro-Framing, affectionately called B.A.R.F. was presented by Tony Stark at a lecture he did at MIT almost seven years ago. But this guy had released a paper about it six months before—a guy named Quentin Beck. I remembered reading about it for a school project, and the picture of the guy was the same person Peter met.

“There’s no way.”

I looked up the article, and sure enough, I was right. Quentin Beck was the scientist behind the technology, and he was an employee for Stark Industries when the article was published.

Great, now I had to break into Stark Industries and access their archives while on a hotspot provided by Eugene Thompson. Lucky for me, we pulled into the parking lot for our much improved hotel, which meant free wifi. Unlucky for me, Mr. Harrington now felt he needed to start bossing us around, considering he was the teacher. Which meant I had to put my investigations to the side. For now.

“Okay, kids, grab your room keys, same roommates as before. Meet back in the lobby at five o’clock for the light festival!”

MJ and I dragged our cases up to the third floor. We each chose a bed, but she was moody, more than her usual angst. But I didn’t have time to play therapist. “Did we get a wifi password?”

“Uh, yeah.” She passed over the card after logging in herself and sat on her bed, glancing back at me every ten seconds.

I was typing away madly, but her stares were making me uncomfortable. “Why are you staring?”

She looked away quickly. “I’m not staring.”

“You were totally staring.” I kept clicking and typing. “What?”

“What are you looking for? I know you stayed up all last night on your computer.”

To tell or not to tell, that is the question. Not a very hard one, but it’s still the question. This secret isn’t mine to make public, though. “I’m trying to prove someone wrong.”

“Who?”

I hesitated. “Peter.”

“Why do you need to prove him wrong?”

“Because he’s gotten his idyllic little hopes up and I want to squash them like a bug.” I glanced at her and smirked. “I’m kidding. I just don’t think he’s right about something, and I’m proving it.”

She nodded, not entirely convinced. “You’re coming to the light festival, right?”

I looked at her. Really looked at her. She was pulling her long sleeves over her wrists and switching her weight from foot to foot—uncomfortable as hell. I gave her a genuine smile and closed my computer. “Wouldn’t miss it. Wanna help me figure out what to wear?”

Friends come before saving the world any day.

tags: @eridanuswave @vampirestrawberries​

[allisonxmoynihan]

illicit affairs ~ a. turcotte

Requested: yes | no

Song: this series is loosely inspired on Illicit Affairs by Taylor Swift (you can listen here!) 

Note: okay this is my first time writing in months and i’m kind of scared about it, but please let me know your thoughts, opinions, feedback, whatever! Special thanks to @hockeyhughes11​ for helping me with this and reading it as I wrote, you rock!

Word Count: 2663

“y/n,” his shaky voice whispers hoarsely on the other side of the phone.

“Hey superstar!” you cheer, an inevitable smile fluttering across your lips, as you turn the tv off so you could hear him better, pressing the phone firmly against your ear as if not to miss a thing he says.

You hear a faint scoff in the background, “wanna come over?” he slurs, sending the butterflies racing in your stomach like the low hum of his voice always did.

You slowly release the breath you didn’t realize you were holding in, “not celebrating the big win with the boys? 3 goals and 2 assists and the superstar doesn’t want to party?” You joke with him while scrambling around your apartment searching for your sneakers and hunting for your keys.

You sense him smiling on the other line, “I got other things to attend to tonight, you know that,”

You feel your face grow hot as your breath hitches, “c’mon y/n, i’m dying to see you…” 

~*~

Work was an absolute blur, the grouchy morning rush of commuters flooded the coffee shop and it was nonstop brewing coffee and preparing breakfast sandwiches before they ran out the door to catch a train. You were thankful for the mid morning slump; middle aged women occupying tables and catching up on neighborhood gossip and reminiscing about their sorority days.

You look up from wiping down the espresso machine to see two boys, about your age, standing on the other side of the counter, wide smiles on their faces as they laughed with each other while sneaking glances at the menu.

“Hi, welcome to Aroma Mocha Cafe! What can I get started for you today?” You exclaim, a forced smile overtaking your face.

The dark haired boy steps forward, “hey, can I please get uhhh…” his voice trails off as he looks up at the menu before he looks back down, “uhh, the seasonal iced coffee?”

You smile, “sure thing, our seasonal flavors are lavender vanilla or salted caramel, which one can I get for you?” 

You watch his face as he contemplates which one, “oh, you can’t go wrong with salted caramel!”

“Alright, your total today is going to be $2.57,” The boy quickly takes out a $5 bill and instructs you to keep the change before moving over to the pick-up counter.

As you’re preparing the two drinks for the boys you can’t help but overhear the small fragments of their conversation you can make out.

“Bro, c’mon, just ask for her number,”

“Trev, I said no.”

“You’ve been…. All… you… Alex”

“No”

“I will then”

You put the drinks down in front of them, “enjoy! Napkins and straws are straight ahead by the door,”

As you’re cleaning up your station, the dark haired boy comes back up to the counter and you feel his eyes on you before you look up and smile, “can I get you anything else? Our seasonal scones pair nicely with the coffee,”

“I’m Alex,” he says awkwardly, shoving his hands in his jeans pockets.

You nod slowly, “that’s nice…”

“We should get dinner one day,” he suggests, and when he’s met with your silence and a blank stare he adds, “you know, cuz you’re cool.”

“Oh, um, thanks, but I really can’t,”

Alex nods, looking at the pastry display case for a few minutes, “well can I at least get your number?”

You notice a group of moms, the weekly book club group, walk in the door and head up to the counter. “Alex, I’m really sorry, but it just can’t happen,”

Alex nods, looking back up at the menu, “so, uh, how long you work here?”

One of the book club moms offers you a sympathetic smile as she turns to talk with one of her friends, “Alex, I’m sorry, but we have a lot of customers right now, so if you’re not go-”

“What, am I not a customer?” he interrupts, and you breathe out heavily in annoyance.

“What can I get for you?”

“A date,” he offers with a shy, boyish smile, his dimples becoming apparent.

You sigh, scribbling your number down on a piece of paper, “fine, but only because I want you to leave me alone.”

~*~

Cold, faint rain ricocheted off of the windows of your bedroom as you crawl onto Alex’s lap, his lips nipping at your neck bound to leave marks that you’d have to figure out how to cover the next day. 

His hands slide underneath your sweater and rest gently on your hip, “no one’s home, right?” he whispers, his lips vibrating against your skin.

You rest your hands on his bare chest, feeling his heart pound against the skin, “we’re all alone baby,” you murmur, pressing your lips to his once again.

He effortlessly lifts you up and lays you down on your bed, suddenly towering over you, “you know i scored the game winning goal today” He smiles cockily.

You look into his dark brown eyes, feeling a blush creep over you, “oh and how should we celebrate, superstar?”

He chuckles softly before leaning down and kissing down your jaw, slowly removing your shirt from your body, “i got a few ideas in mind,”

Within seconds he’s on top of you, one hand kneading your breasts, the other slipping underneath your leggings and collecting your wetness. 

“Are you going to be a good girl for me?” he asks, sliding your leggings and panties down your legs as your legs fall open for him and he begins to kiss down your abdomen.

You writhe underneath him and let out a gasp as his tongue licks up your folds. You run your hand through his luscious locks as he picks up his pace and begins to work at your clit. You buck your hips up as you moan out with pleasure.

“So good for me you pretty girl,” he grumbles against your dripping pussy, slipping three fingers into you, his calloused fingers pumping in and out of you. You felt a knot forming in your stomach and knew you were close.

“Alex, please, faster,” you moan, only alex lifts his head and kisses back up your torso before placing a sloppy kiss to your lips, sucking on his fingers. 

“I want you babygirl,” he mumbles as your hands fumble with the zipper on his jeans, helping him slide out of his boxers. Without any warning alex pushes into you, his thrusts harsh and fast. The room is filled with the sound of both your moans, his thrusts getting sloppier and sloppier. And when you both reach out your highs he slows his pace to drag out your orgasm, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead.

“Such a beautiful girl,” he hums, sliding off the bed and redressing before looking over at the clock.

You suddenly feel vulnerable and exposed, bringing your blanket up to cover yourself as Alex approaches the door, “I’ll be seeing you princess,”

You wave sheepishly at the closed bedroom door that he just escaped behind, sighing at how foolish you are, how you would consistently drop everything to be there for him. You think back to the hundreds of other nights spent like this, the two of you having your moment, and him bolting as soon as he decides it’s over leaving no trace behind. 

You sit in your dark room, convinced alex does love you deep down, that he’s different and not the kind of guy that shows up on your doorstep just for sex. But you’d be lying if you didn’t admit that sometimes, you felt as if you were a pawn in his game. 

You think back to your first “date” with him, how you were defiant and didn’t want to go, but how 10 minutes quickly turned into an hour and that hour was suddenly six. He made you feel special, like you were on top of the world, like you could be something more than just a barista in a busy city. You reminisce about the time you and alex once dreamt up a future together: a small cottage in minnesota, three kids running wild in the yard after a long day at the beach. You wipe away tears that happen to fall as you realize what you’ve been trying to fight for months: you were in love with him, and you could only hope that you actually meant something to him.

~*~

The crackling noise of the firewood and the light tunes of your favorite band filled your living room where you and your best friends sat binge watching the latest reality tv episode. You lean forward to grab an oreo off the plate on the coffee table, breaking it in half and eating the side without cream first.

“You know the guy I matched with on tinder the other night?” maddie asks, taking her phone out. You and christine hum in unison.

“So, i was curious and went to look at his instagram, and…” her voice trails off as she scrolls through her phone’s home screen, “here i’ll just show you.” 

You lean back on the sofa, running your hands through your hair, “how bad is it?”

“You really gotta get better taste, if i see one more picture of a guy holding a fish i’m going to lose it,” Christine laughs, grabbing an oreo for herself.

“Oh shit,” maddie whispers

“What?” you and christine ask impatiently

“Hey, uh, y/n, isn’t this the guy from the coffee shop? Mr. I want a date and I refuse to leave this shop until I get your number?” she laughs, and you instantly reach to take her phone from her hands desperate for any opportunity to see him, but when you see the picture your face falls and you can feel the color drain. “It was on my explore page…” maddie adds, reaching for her phone but you turn away continuing to look down at the screen.

There he was. Your superstar. Wide grin, dimples present, his hair still wet and curling loosely at the ends, his button down shirt wrinkled and exposing his upper chest. His arm wrapped tightly around a girl’s tiny waist, her pressing her lips firmly against his cheek, cupping his face in her perfect hands. 

You swallow the lump that formed in your throat, scoffing as you toss maddie her phone back, “so? He was just a normal customer, never even took me on that date he insisted on” you lie, turning your attention back to the tv.

Your mind is racing and the conversation between the other girls is drowned out by the flood of thoughts running through your mind. Alex was so much more than just the coffee shop boy, he meant everything to you, he was the only person that could make you feel whole and complete. You hated being a secret to him especially when he consumed every single one of your thoughts, you wished you could be the girl that meant something to him, the one to wear his jerseys at his games as you cheer him on, the one who goes out with his teammates after a big win, the one who gets to go home with him for the holidays to meet his family and fall in love with them for raising the man of your dreams. But you weren’t that girl. You weren’t her and you never would be her.

Later that night you go to alex’s instagram, and it’s as if you got fifty punches right to the gut all over again. Alex was happy with her. Hannah. That was her name. Alex was happy with hannah. You continue to scroll down his page and see that hannah first appeared on his page six months ago. The two of them pressed up against each other in the dim light of a bar, him leaning down and kissing her cheek. You laugh sadly at how stupid you were thinking that what you had with him was real and that you were anything more than someone to help fill a void. Your phone lights up with an incoming call, alex’s name appearing.

“Hey superstar!” you cheer, forcing a smile.

“Hey you,” he grins, “i was just thinking about you actually, can i come over?”

You say yes without hesitation, and that’s when you realize that you would continue ruining yourself for his sake as long as it meant he was going to stay in your life. You’d do anything to make him stay.

~*~

Work was a hassle, the coffee shop getting slammed with the drop of the holiday drinks, the city streets constantly bustling with tourists and holiday shoppers trying to find the best deals. You were excited to finally have a weekend off to just relax and have no worries. You approach your apartment door and smell the savory aroma of food cooking, and you're confused since you live alone.

You cautiously push open the door, peeking into the kitchen as a smile blossoms on your face. “Alex!” you cheer, running up to hug him as he peppers your face with kisses. 

You pull away from him, setting your bag on the kitchen table, “what are you doing here?”

He turns his attention back to the stove, “well, i know you’ve been stressed with work and school lately, so I thought i’d do something nice for you,”

Your heart swells and you begin to feel all warm and fuzzy, “i don’t deserve you,” 

He laughs, “go change and get comfy, dinner will be ready soon. It’s your favorite and I also brought your favorite movies.”

You smile to yourself as you walk into your bedroom, putting on your pajamas and walking back out to see alex has prepared two identical plates, “ready?” he asks, a boyish smile on his face.

The night is filled with the two of you snuggled into each other’s sides on the couch, laughing at all the same parts of the movies, crying at other parts, making jokes here and there, and planning a getaway trip to a small coastal town. After three movies, and the sun long gone, the soft beat of his heart begins to lull you to sleep.

“You sleepy princess?” he asks softly, scooping you up in his arms and carrying you to your bed.

You’re half asleep as he tucks you in and presses a kiss to your forehead, “sleep well baby”

You reach your arms out for him, “you’re not going to stay with me tonight?” your voice is sad, not wanting this picture perfect night to end.

You hear him laugh as he runs his finger up and down your hand, pressing a light kiss to the top of it, “not tonight princess, i’ll call you tomorrow though.”

“Promise?”

“I cross my heart and hope to die,”

“Good,” you mumble, turning over and getting comfortable.

There’s a long silence and you know he’s still in the room since the hallway light is peeking into your room. And you can’t help but fall asleep happy, thinking that life is finally going right and you have the best guy by your side.

“I love you…” 

You hear the floorboards shift under his weight and just like that he’s escaped into the abyss of the night, just like he always does. 

~*~

“So you coming over or what?” he repeats, a harsh undertone suddenly appearing.

You smile, impatiently pressing the elevator button over and over again because it never seems to come quick enough, “uh, yeah, yeah, I’m on my way. I was thinking, we could maybe watch that movie you were talking ab-”

His deep voice cuts you off, his usually kind and patient tone now stern, “we need to talk.”

You stare at your reflection in the elevator door as your face falls, trying to fight the inevitable tears that spring to your eyes, and you just know tonight isn’t going to be like the others.