#shes actually terrible and i love her for it

[supernovafics]

𝐍𝐄𝐖 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄

pairing: eddie munson x fem!reader

word count: 2.3k words

summary: in which it’s hard to see eddie with anyone who isn't you

warnings: friends to lovers to friends again (kinda), explicit language, alcohol consumption, very brief mention of weed, pining, angst

author’s note: this is fully inspired by the song "new love" by girl in red. enjoy<333

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

“She’s right over there. Should I do it?”

“Yeah, go for it.”

Eddie nodded at your words and then he was standing up from the long patio chair that you, him, and Robin had been occupying for the past thirty minutes, and heading over to where his newest crush stood with a few of her friends. 

Robin let out a laugh. “I don’t get it.”

You turned your head to look at her. “What?”

“How you guys can still be friends right now. You only broke up like two months ago.” 

Making the promise to stay friends post-breakup was the only thing that made the breakup feel a thousand times less terrible. And it sounded easy enough— you and Eddie were simply just going to go back to how things were before you started dating.

“We’re better off as friends,” He had said to you that random Wednesday night back in January and you nodded understandingly. It was amicable and mutual, and eventually— maybe, hopefully— the barely five-month relationship would be a funny little story to reminisce about with each other years down the line.  

You took a long sip from the red cup in your hand and then shrugged at Robin’s words. “I don’t know. This just works somehow. It’s better.” 

You had been telling yourself that lie a lot lately— maybe almost too much. But, it was easier to pretend that that lie was the truth and that everything was fine, instead of thinking that maybe you made a mistake that night when you found yourself agreeing with Eddie and let things end between the two of you. 

“No offense, but so weird,” Robin said with a shake of her head. “So, who’s this new girl he’s into anyway?”

“I honestly don’t know.”

Eddie had told you a lot about her— how she saw one of his band’s shows recently with a few friends and how she kinda ran in the same-ish circles— but most of what he said about her went in one ear and out the other. Hearing him ramble on and on about a new crush hurt more than you thought it would. Even more than when you two were actually just friends and you were harboring what felt like a hopeless crush on him for years before finally admitting it.

Breaking up was supposed to save you both from more heartbreak in the long run, but most of the time it felt like it was only making things worse. Sometimes you wondered if Eddie felt the same way— if he regretted it as much as you did. 

It was almost too obvious that he didn’t, though, because he didn’t waste a second moving on. 

New girl, new crush, new love. All of which wasn’t you anymore. 

You looked away from where he stood next to the girl— you were only fifty percent sure her name was Ally. She was happily laughing at whatever Eddie had just said to her, and he was smiling widely. 

“I’m gonna go inside and attempt to find the bathroom,” You told Robin before downing the rest of what was in your cup and placing it on the ground, and then standing up.  

She looked up at you. “Want some help?” 

“No, it’s okay,” You shook your head. “I’ll be right back.” 

You kept your eyes down and away from Eddie as you walked into the house, a place that was way too small to have this many people in it. The inside was packed to the brim with a bunch of unfamiliar faces, and that was the main reason why you, Robin, and Eddie immediately retreated to the backyard once the three of you showed up. The only reason you all knew about the party was because of a friend of a friend of someone that Eddie met at The Hideout a few weeks ago.

You maneuvered through the throngs of dancing people and groups of friends talking loudly over the blasting music and headed up the stairs, hoping that it would be a bit more calm. 

The universe must have been somewhat on your side because you found the bathroom on your first try. You didn’t even need to use it, you just wanted a moment of quiet. And even though you could hear the muffled sounds of the song playing downstairs through the shut door, it was still good enough.

You leaned back against the sink and let out a long breath. 

It was hard not to think about Eddie with Ally and how happy they looked, even though it was only one of their first few conversations. All you wanted to do was take her place. All you wanted was for him to want you like that again. 

It wasn’t supposed to be this hard, this complicated. Being just friends again was supposed to be the best thing to do, and you now wanted to bitterly laugh at yourself for stupidly believing that thought two months ago. Most of the time, that night played back on what felt like a continuous loop in your head. You kept wondering if you should’ve done things differently; if you should’ve, maybe, fought harder to keep what you two had. 

“I don’t think we should do this anymore.”

You had immediately laughed at Eddie’s soft-spoken words, thinking that he was joking, but when he didn’t join in, you were furrowing your eyebrows in confusion. “What?”

“This just doesn’t make sense, y’know? We’re graduating soon, and then we’re gonna be going in completely different directions. You’re leaving Hawkins, and I already know that I’m gonna be stuck here.”

You were quiet because you had no idea how to respond to that. Maybe it was only half-right— yes, you were going to be headed to a college that was not in Indiana at the end of the summer, but you truly couldn’t imagine Eddie being “stuck” anywhere.

“We’re better off as friends,” He continued. “Neither of us can get hurt that way.”

It was all so surprising and felt entirely out of nowhere, but you could tell by how he said the words that he had been thinking about this for a while. There was a part of you that could understand what he meant, the sad why behind it all, so you decided to lean into that. Because, in a way, he was kind of right— the deeper you fell for each other, the more painful the heartbreak would be in the end, and the harder it would be to leave in August. 

But, shit, you were already in way too deep. 

You still felt yourself nodding in agreement with him anyway, even though it was the last thing you wanted to do. “Okay.”

“So… just friends again?”

You simply nodded again and gave him a small smile. “Yeah, of course. Just friends.” 

Now you felt so dumb for saying that, for agreeing to the idea. You couldn’t be “just friends” with Eddie Munson anymore. 

There was a loud knock on the door that abruptly pulled you out of your thoughts. 

“Sorry, one sec,” You yelled out to the person on the other side. 

You let out another breath and didn’t bother looking in the mirror to see if the sadness you were feeling was written so clearly across your face. Mainly because you knew that it definitely was and it would be too hard to replace it with a fake smile, anyway. 

A random girl was rushing in before you were even fully out of the door, and you hoped that she was doing better than you were at that moment, but it didn’t entirely seem like it.  

You decided that you wanted to go back outside and settle yourself back in your spot on the patio chair next to Robin, and you also really wanted another drink. The idea of blurring your thoughts for the rest of the night didn’t sound like the worst idea ever.  

You made your way to the stairs and before you even started heading down, you spotted Eddie walking up. He easily noticed you too and he smiled before meeting you at the top of the stairs after a second. He looked at you for a moment and then his eyebrows furrowed in concern. 

“Hey, you okay?” He asked, reaching out to place a hand on your upper arm. It was such a subtle and simple action, but it still made you feel way too many things at once. “What’s wrong?” 

“Nothing, I’m fine,” You answered, giving him a weak smile, and then immediately changed the subject so that he wouldn’t question you further right then. “How’d it go with Ally? That’s her name, right?” 

“Yeah, it is. But, that ask-out completely crashed and failed because she said that she just started dating someone.” 

“Oh, sorry,” You told him, not because you actually felt it, but because it simply felt like the right thing to say at that moment. 

“It’s fine,” Eddie shrugged. “What’s the dumb saying? There’s other fish in the sea or whatever.”

You let out a forced kind of laugh. “Yup, right.” 

“You sure you’re okay?”

For a second, you considered lying again; it would’ve been the best and simplest thing to do. You could’ve said that you weren’t feeling well and you needed to just head back outside and get some air— you should’ve just said that. But then, suddenly, all you could think was fuck it.

“I can’t do this.” 

He looked at you, confused. “Do what?”

“Be friends with you. I can’t go back to how things were with us before we dated. And I know that I have been doing it for the past two months, but I can’t anymore.”

“But, we decided—”

“I know,” You interrupted him. “I know what we decided, but that doesn’t mean that it’s been easy to do this. To just turn off my feelings and pretend that I’m not still in love with you.”

Surprisingly, it actually felt good to finally be honest about everything that you had forced yourself to bury over the past few months. It felt as if a weight was being lifted off of your shoulders. 

“It’s not easy for me either.” 

You couldn’t help but scoff and roll your eyes at Eddie’s words. “Yeah, because talking to Ally out there looked really painful and hard for you.” 

“That doesn’t…” He trailed off as he shook his head. “That doesn’t mean anything. I promise. It doesn’t mean that I don’t miss you, or us.” 

“Then why are we even doing this right now? What’s the point?”

You two had somehow moved away from the stairs and instead were standing further down the hallway, closer to the bathroom that you had left barely two minutes ago. 

“I just,” Eddie began and then sighed. “I know it’s gonna hurt like hell letting you go in a few months, and maybe doing it this way is easier. It’s not at all easy, but maybe it’s better? I don’t know. Most of the time it feels so fucking stupid, and I feel like an idiot for what I did that night… But, maybe it was the right thing to do.”

You considered his words for a moment. Just like that night two months ago, a part of you could recognize that he was at least a little right. But, this time you decided against leaning into the small part of you that wanted to simply agree with him because it made things seem “easy.”

“You know me,” You ultimately said, stepping a little closer and finding his hand. “I overthink everything. I think about every possible outcome for any and every situation. But, this is the one thing that I don’t want to think that far ahead about. And maybe that’s stupid. And maybe we will end up feeling terribly heartbroken at the end of the summer, and we’ll regret not just leaving things like they are right now. But, I’d rather that, than to keep pretending that everything is fine and normal. Somehow that feels so much worse. Why can’t we just enjoy this, us, for what it is before we have to give it up?”

Eddie didn’t say anything at first and that worried you. You braced yourself for the inevitable rejection, and you were already telling yourself that you would be okay with it because at least you tried this time around— you had finally said the words that you wished you’d said that night. 

But then he was kissing you. It was abrupt and sudden and you hadn’t seen it coming, even though it was exactly what you wanted to happen. He was pulling his hand away from yours and immediately reaching up to cup your face in both of his hands. They were cold, but you still felt as if you were on fire. 

It was probably only him that could affect you this much and this easily. You didn’t realize how much you missed the feel of his mouth on yours and how much you missed having him close to you in this way until it was finally, finally happening again. 

Your mind briefly traveled back to the last time this happened. It was the night before the breakup and the two of you were smoking weed in your backyard, sandwiched together in one patio chair instead of sitting in separate ones because it just felt right to do, and the close proximity allowed your lips to easily find his.

“I love you,” Eddie mumbled against your mouth now, which also reminded you of that last time. “I’m sorry I made us lose the past two months.”

Your hands were fisting themselves into his black t-shirt, pulling him impossibly closer to you. “It’s okay. Doesn’t matter.”

And technically, it really didn’t, at least not in your head. You were just glad to be here in this moment with him. It wasn’t too late. You two still had time. 

“It’ll be okay,” You told him in between kisses. Maybe you two should have found a bedroom or simply moved anywhere that was out of the dark hallway and away from potential prying eyes, but that didn’t feel like the most important thing to do right then. “Whatever happens in the end. It’ll be okay.” 

Eddie was nodding as he pressed you back against the wall and his hands dropped to your waist. “Okay.”

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

let me know ur thoughts<333

[anothermansjeans]

ok but I just know someone in the youtube!reader universe has made a compilation of both reader and Spencer roasting each other and also of how many times Spencer says hey 😭

I LOVE THIS AHSHDND this isn't a real blurb but i threw together some of their roasts + a couple new ones!

cw: just my two loves roasting each other 🫶

wc: 392

youtuber!reader masterlist

++

Video Title: 3 Minutes of Y/N and Spencer Roasting Each Other (lovingly?)

Clips from Y/N’s makeup voiceover:

“It looks like Y/N is putting sunblock all over her face. She’s not putting on the recommended amount which is about ¼ teaspoon. Many dermatologists recommend the ‘three finger rule’ when applying so that you know you’ve used enough.”

…

“She’s now putting concealer under her eyes and on red spots. I believe this is for color correction, but she should be using a shade of green to neutralize the red and then put concealer or foundation on.”

…

“Right! Okay, now she's using foundation. This shade looks to be a shade too dark though. Y/N, did you run out of your winter shade?”

…

“...She told me this helps her makeup stay on all day, but her skin produces oils throughout the day so it's likely this really only works for a couple of hours at most.”

++

Clips from Y/N’s skincare routine:

“Well,” he began, looking back at the cameras and talking with his hands, “Sometimes, if I feel as though my pores had excreted more oil than normal and Y/N’s face wash is out, I'd use that, but more times than not, she's in bed before me so I’ll just use water.”

A pout formed on your face as you looked at the camera. “Terrible, I know.”

++

Random clips from Y/N’s TikToks:

Spencer was walking by Y/N doing a yoga session as he said, “your form is wrong. You’ll be complaining about your back aching later and we now know it isn't from your posture while editing.”

…

Y/N was currently on a live, walking into their kitchen when she made a face, “Spencer and I should be looking into pest control here– it smells like something died–”

“That’s the food. I’m making dinner…”

Y/N looked up at him with wide eyes, “Sorry, babe.”

…

Y/N set up a game of “they're a 10, but…” and only described Spencer: “He’s a 10 but he waited to say ‘I love you’ until a month after you said it because he didn't know if he believed you actually meant it.”

“I don't get this game.”

“He’s a 10 but he cut his own hair without telling me and his boss roasted him.”

“I get it now.”

++

youtuber!reader masterlist: @im-a-ghost666 @lyd14k4y @happiestcat @hauntedtv13 @obi-wansgirl @charismatic-writer

let me know if you would like to be added or removed!

[thatbookgirl1118]

I cannot for the life of me find the original post (tumblr is a hellsite) but this was sent in an atla gc:

@the-badger-mole

and tbh i always kinda felt like kataang was weird exactly because of that one-sidedness??? like there's one episode of katara maybe sort-of seeing aang as a love interest (when the fortune teller tells her she'll marry a powerful bender), but then the rest of the show is her being passive in the relationship or actively pushing aang away (like their second kiss). and then at the end she just randomly decided "okay i like you i guess."

whereas aang got a bunch of pining moments and you actually believed he was in love with katara.

and most of their relationship was about how she helped aang - he did contribute to her character development over the course of the series especially as a bender of course but it didn't feel as emotionally/spiritually deep as katara's literal one episode sidequest with zuko.

but then someone else wrote "I would argue the opposite? Kataang is where Katara choose the peaceful nomad which subverts the trope presented where zutara is where she chooses the strong protector/combatant. Aang as a character is a subversion of the typical hero while zutara is like,,, coloniser romance idk"

and honestly... i kinda get that. aang was problematic in a lot of ways, but he was definitely a subversive protagonist, and i can see the power of allowing the woman to choose the pacifist vegetarian over the extremely obviously hot jock badboy. this is an incredible oversimplification of their characters of course, but the point stands.

Basically, Kataang is the ship we all logically want - the sweet, friendship-based, seemingly subversive one. But Zutara is the one that actually makes sense in the story, with these characters, not their tropes. Aang is subversive, but he and Katara are also kind of terrible for each other - he isn't mature or selfless enough for Katara, who needs someone to force her to take care of herself because she's always the one taking care of everyone else (wonder what that's like). That's why she and Zuko are so perfect, because he not only takes care of her, he makes HER prioritize herself. Aang... does not. He's pretty selfish, which yes is partially due to his immaturity (I personally don't count Korra as canon because it treated ALL the og characters terribly so I'm speaking purely from his 12 yo self), but it's also just a basic incompatibility thing. And Katara is actually equally bad for Aang - she enables him waaay too much, and he needs someone who doesn't. Who forces him to stand up on his own two feet and take responsibility. She's too much of a mother, and her relationship with Aang is too mother/older sister-ish.

With Zuko, on the other hand? Katara started out HATING him, forcing him to prove himself to her instead of handing him everything she had like she tended to do with Aang and Sokka. He had to earn her care, and as a result he appreciates it way more and demands way less of it. He's a far less selfish character generally for the same reasons, and is much more mature/has a better understanding of life and gray areas. Southern Raiders is a great example of this - he's down for whatever Katara decides because he understands that there's no one right answer, unlike Aang who simply preaches forgiveness. I'm not necessarily attacking Aang about that either - I do believe that grudges eat away at a person, and taking a life does haunt you, so forgiveness isn't necessarily bad advice. But it's not what Katara needed. Aang is great as a friend, but I don't think he's what Katara needs from a romantic partner. Zuko just... is.

[eqt-95]

there were too many beds

prompt came from this reverse trope list. (thanks anon for suggesting it be pulled into a standalone post)

- - - - -

There were too many beds.

There were too many beds.

Kara scanned the room: two, four, six, seven beds.

Sevens of them. All done up with pillows and over-starched fabric and tiny brochures translated into broken English with a map of local attractions splattered from inch to inch.

When she'd persuaded Lena to live out her dream of a four-week backpacking European holiday, she never expected there to be so many beds. Hostel after hostel with 'private' rooms filled with beds. It was perfectly roomy which was exactly the problem. Kara had daydreamed of a closet-sized room tightly packed with a single double bed, a tiny nightstand and, maybe if they were lucky, a private bathroom.

What she didn't expect was Lena plans-ahead Luthor booking out an entire 'group' of beds at each location.

"It'll give us guaranteed privacy," Lena explained when Kara flushed at the bundle of euros being slipped across the counter city after city.

Because that was the other thing: Kara had just come out. As Supergirl. And for as much as she liked to pretend everything was normal, everything was not normal. They could barely enjoy their plates of cicchetti in Venice without being barraged with onlookers. Their walk through Gaudi's masterpiece was ruined by slack-jawed observers gawking at Kara in civilian clothes. And now, in the city of love itself, Kara's romantic plans of a blanketed dinner in front of the Eiffel Tower was ruined by one nosy teenager with a social media following.

And now they were back, dinner ruined, a half-eaten baguette in one hand and the remaining drags of a perfectly delicious bottom-shelf bottle of red in the other. It was terrible. It was awful. It was not going at all like Kara wanted or planned or hoped.

Still Lena smiled. She knowingly leaned into Kara with each spontaneous combustion of crowds. She squeezed a hand reassuringly and chuckled when the wildest requests were made for autographs and signatures and "can we see the suit?". Tiny reminders of "it's ok, darling," were whispered through a crowd while an adoring smile settled Kara's stewing frustration.

"Everything ok?" Lena asked, one hand disappeared into her overflowing backpack.

"Hm? Oh, yea," Kara replied. A blush crept over her cheeks and a distracted hand scratched at her neck. "Just tired I guess."

"It'll pass. Soon you'll be able to walk down the street and be a nobody just like me," Lena offered with a sympathetic smile. And then there it was; there it came: a quick squeeze of Kara's forearm followed by the light trace of a kiss on Kara's cheek. "Thank you for an amazing day."

And then it was gone as quick as it came with the bathroom door squeaking shut.

And still, there were seven beds.

Seven.

Beds.

Now, what happened next is up for some debate. To the desk clerk, it might have sounded like a robbery. To Lena Luthor, one threshold away, it sounded like Kara was having one of her early-aughts inspired dance sessions. Kara herself would explain she'd seen a black widow. An army of black widows when an amused Lena pressed.

"Not bedbugs?" Lena asked, surveying the damage and stepping over a smoking mattress.

"Uh... coulda-coulda been?" Kara said, flushed and dry-mouthed.

"Mhm, well then we couldn't possibly sleep here tonight-"

"Black widows. It was definitely a fleet of black widows. Not a bedbug in sight actually-"

"A fleet?" Lena pressed, barely containing a grin and dropping her day clothes onto her completely unscathed, pristine backpack.

Kara nodded. She nodded with vigor and superspeed.

"I see," Lena continued, plopping onto the mattress.

How exactly it happened didn't really matter. All that mattered was that, in the span of time it took Lena to brush her teeth and change into soft sweats and Kara's old NCU t-shirt, six beds had been destroyed.

"I guess we'll just have to share, won't we, darling?"

[bumblebeesfromvenus]

The Kiss of a Siren 🫧

Pirate!Leon S Kennedy x Siren!reader

A/N: it's done!!! I actually love how this turned out! This was a really fun pairing to write and I can totally see myself writing more Pirate!Leon in the future :)

~Fi 🐝

《Content》: a little bit of gore, but not descriptive. Death (a girl's gotta eat)Luis cameo! MIKE CAMEO! Leon runs straight into danger (Aka being Leon)

《Word count》: 6.1k

Please don't copy my work! I put a lot of effort and heart into the things I write.

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ──🌊── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ──🌊── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

The ocean laid almost still, only soft and gentle waves blew over the water, causing it to ripple and lap at the wooden hull of his mighty ship. His gaze turned towards the horizon, watching as the moon reflected and glitter on the surface.

There was a soft slosh from his nearly empty bottle of rum as he took another swig, the burning as it went down starting a fire in his veins and being the only thing shielding him from the cold and salty breeze.

It was dark, all lights extinguished. His crew and his first mate were slumbering peacefully beneath deck, all rocked to sleep by the sea.

A feeling of melancholy washed over him as a sigh rolled off his lips. He knew his heart belonged to the sea, but he couldn't help the pressing loneliness in his chest on nights like these, wishing he had a fair lady to love.

Maybe then he'd consider coming home now and then.

He loved the ocean dearly, but she couldn't dry his tears and fill his arms as a woman of his own could.

He shook off the thought, taking a breath and focusing on the peaceful sway of his ship, looking forward to another day of wearing his Tricorn. Stolen, of course, although earned. Perhaps not by the accords of the Captain he'd snagged it from, but by his loyal crew.

Although Leon was a pirate, he wasn't heartless. He'd been through every terrible storm and ruthless attack with these men, and they respected him as their Captain.

There was no mutiny, no plans of overthrowing him, simply because he hadn't given them a reason to.

He was often called the Robin Hood of the seven seas; taking from the rich and cocky and giving it to the less fortunate. Of course he still plundered purely for the fun of it, but only other pirates.

They knew to avoid him, especially if they were the rowdy kind that took from the poor.

Because, above all, he wasn't just the greatest pirate Captain since Anne Bonny but a harbinger of justice that could both lend a gentle hand to those in need and strike fear into the hearts of anyone who had crossed him or his morals.

He was pulled out of his self pity by a distressed sound that cut through the silence of the night like a freshly sharpened cutlass. His brows pulled together as his eyes searched for the source of this noise.

Leon was on high alert, he wouldn't be surprised if rival pirates were using distress calls as bait for an ambush. Setting down the empty bottle of dark rum, he went over to the other side of his ship, facing the sandy shore.

And, as if the gods wanted him to see, he spotted a woman desperately clinging onto a large rock in the water. She was perfectly illuminated by the moonlight, even as she sobbed and struggled, she looked ethereal.

Leon sprung into action and climbed down the rope ladder at the side of his ship into a row boat.

What he hadn't noticed in his hurry, however, was the faint glow of a lantern being lit and a dark figure watching him carefully from atop his ship.

"Hold on, I'm coming for you!" He said loudly, rowing with his entire might as he saw the woman slipping.

"I-.. I can't hold on much longer, please help me!" She wept, seemingly trying to dig her nails into the algae covered boulder as best she could. Seeing her in such distress made his heart ache.

He didn't want to imagine what the outcome would be if he hadn't spotted her. With heaving breaths and a pull in the muscles of his arms, he rowed closer and closer, seeing her more clearly now.

She was quite beautiful, with her wet hair clinging to her skin and her tears glittering on her cheeks.

His boat bumped into the rock as he jumped up and held out his hand for her to grasp onto.

"Here. Just take my hand, I'll help you." Leon heaved, trying to steady the wooden vessel.

You reached for him, tightly clinging to his arm as he reeled you in like a fisherman would his catch of the day.

How ironic, you thought, having to stop yourself from smirking.

Your tail swished in the water, concealed by its darkness, as you made an effort to keep up your act.

"Thank you. Gods, you saved my life. I just wanted to bathe but the current ripped me away and I couldn't-" You babbled through sobs and wails.

"Calm down, alright? I've got you. You're safe." He spoke softly, much softer than you'd anticipated.

His huge yet gentle hands were steadied on your upper arms as you tightly gripped the edge of the boat.

"I'll help you into the boat." He breathed, now very aware of your bare skin. Your eyes widened slightly and your grip tightened.

"I- no, no, I... I'm so exhausted... I just need a break.." you tried to assure him with a half hearted smile.

"Oh, yes, of course." He chuckled awkwardly, sitting back down but still keeping a hand on you, just in case.

Your eyes glid over his form. His broad shoulders and bulging arms with a strong chest. Not to mention the mix of soft and sharp features and those beautiful blue eyes.

They reminded you of home. The deep, silent and peaceful parts of the ocean.

Lucky you; your dinner looked extra delicious today. Your mouth watered at the mere thought of sinking your teeth into his flesh and taking a bite.

It was quiet except for the waves crashing onto the rocks and the small ripples caused by you sloshing agaisnt the wood of his boat. You gazed upon eachother, a scene bathed in the fairest of moonlights, as your shared curiosity took over.

His hand slowly migrated to gentle hold your face as his thumb softly, but not without a hesitant twitch in his fingertips, wiped away at your tears.

Tears that shimmered like diamonds and the most notorious treasures of the seas. Leon was mesmerized, almost captivated, by your presence.

Something was pulling him in, something so deceiving, that he let himself slowly slip into your spell.

"A girl like you shouldn't be out alone past dusk." Leon broke the tense silence with quiet words as he brushed some of the hair clinging to your forehead out of your face. Your lips turned up into a soft smile, and Leon could feel his heart pound at your beauty.

"A girl like me?" You asked playfully, trailing you hand from the wooden edge to gently grasp at his arm. He thought for a moment.

"A girl so... beautiful. So sweet. So soft." His words were merely above a whisper and you could see his chest falling and rising just a little faster than before.

His pupils almost swallowed up the entirety of his pretty blues, making you mourn the mirroring image of your home.

"You flatter me." You replied with a soft chuckle, your other hand rising up to plant itself against his chest. He instinctively leaned forwards, his warm breath tickling your face.

There was a hint of sadness in your chest and it was getting harder to play the part. It seemed so easy to fall for those sandy locks and ocean eyes.

The line was awfully thin and you'd be damned if you crossed it.

"Tell me, what's your name?" You asked innocently, fiddling with the strings of his shirt.

"Leon." He swallowed thickly, his other hand itching to dip beneath the surface of the water, pull you out and whisk you away as his treasure, only for him to know the beauty that you hid beneath that darkness.

"Leon..." You tested his name on your tongue with a small smile and gazed up at him with such a bright sparkle in your eyes. Leon thought he was about to choke on air.

You gently, but with a firm hand, pulled him closer to you, your lips just a hairs breadth apart.

"What is it you desire, Leon?" You purred, your eyes darkening. Leon was hunched over, halfway to toppling into the water.

Right where you wanted him. His lips were parted and his cheeks were flushed, his pupils dilated so much you could spot yourself in them.

"You." He breathed out, leaning in far enough to brush your lips together.

You cracked a smile and brought your lips to his ear.

"How unfortunate." You whispered.

Those words made him snap back into reality, the hazy fog over his mind lifted enough to catch the sharp teeth as you smiled and the scattered, shimmering scales he'd missed before.

But it was no use.

The second he had realized, he was pulled under, ripped from his steady seat in the boat and plunged into dreadful darkness.

The air was knocked from his lungs and he struggled against your surprisingly strong hold on him as you dragged him deeper. Leon could see the moonlight fading, reaching out for it.

You, on the other hand, were euphoric. Ravenous for your meal.

Usually, you'd wait. Drown your prey and watch the life drain from their eyes, making them dull. But there was something about him that made you so impatient. So eager to get a taste.

Without another thought you sunk your teeth into his strong shoulder and reveled in the sweet taste of his flesh.

Leon screamed out in agony, but it was dulled and muffled by the water. Bubbles rose up as he desperately tried to get you off of him. His strength was exhausted, and the red tinting the water blurred his vision.

You hummed against his skin at the delightful taste of him. To your dismay, your feast was cut short by a loud noise, making you detach from Leon and flinch away.

Before you could get far, there was a searing pain in your tail, the salty waters now stained with your blood instead of his. A silvery harpoon was embedded in your tail, shooting hot spikes of agony up your spine.

You swam as fast as you could with the weapon in your fin, bullets whizzing past you as your form merged into the deep blue, vanishing before his eyes.

Leon pushed up to the surface with his uninjured arm before a hand plunged into the water and grasped him tightly before pulling him up to the surface.

He gasped for air and heaved in deep breaths as someone wrangled him into the boat.

The shirt on his left shoulder was ripped and stained with deep crimson as the rest of the wet fabric clung to his sculpted body. There were heavy pats on his back as he coughed up water, wincing at the excruciating pain in his shoulder.

"¡Joder! Are you alright, Capitán?" The frantic voice of his ever so loyal first mate, Luis Serra, rang in his ears, making him slack in relief.

"¡Mierda!. That beast got you good, huh?" He tried to lift the mood with a chuckle but Leon couldn't respond, his head spinning as he slowly took in his surroundings again.

Luis had a lit lantern with him, which got knocked over in his attempt to save Leon, his blunderbuss laid in the boat, smoke pluming from the barrel. A couple of harpoons were laid out as well, ones they'd usually use for fishing.

"Thank... Thank you.." Leon forced through heavy breaths as he held his bleeding shoulder.

"Always, Captain. Let's get you fixed up, eh, Sancho Panza?" Luis grinned helping Leon up onto the ship, who cracked a tired smirk at the friendly banter.

.·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·.

Leon was lost in thought as he sat on the edge of his sofa, a singular lantern illuminating his day cabin. He chewed on the inside of his cheek as he replayed the events in his mind.

With a heavy sigh he slumped back against the soft cushion, wincing when he adjusted his arm. There were so any feelings weighing down on him. Pure, hot fury. The urge to hunt you down, gut you and hang you out to dry.

He knew of your kind, of course he knew, the maneating maidens with the voice of a nightingale. Half fish, half woman. Sirens caused the worst shipwrecks, he'd heard the stories from the very few that were lucky enough to escape their clawed grasp.

There was shame. Ashamed that someone like him was so easily fooled by a pair of pretty eyes and a smile so sweet he could feel his teeth ache.

Was he just desperate and pathetic? Longing so deeply for a maiden of his own that he'd jumped at the first opportunity? Wasn't it honorable that he'd sprung into action to save a damsel in distress? He didn't know. He lived up to his reputation, that's for sure, but Leon couldn't bring himself to take the credit. He never could.

And then there was this bubbling curiosity. The urge to know more, to see you again. He didn't understand. You'd almost taken his life, yet there was not an ounce of fear for you in him. He was intrigued, he needed to see you again.

Whether it was to squeeze answers out of you or to get a smidge of that connection back.

He damn near broke his head in two that night after he'd retreated to bed, wondering if some of it was real. It felt real to him.

The way you looked at him, spoke to him, touched him. It all seemed so real and genuine. Were creatures like you even able to feel things of that sort? He didn't know.

What he did know was not only had you had his flesh between your sharp teeth, but his heart, too, it seemed.

.·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·.

The sun sparkled on the surface of the ocean as the Lone Rookie treaded along her path, splitting the waves.

Captain Kennedy and his crew were leisurely sailing across the calm sea, letting the tide guide them. He stood atop the quaterdeck, giving directions to the pirate that manned the wheel, knowing this part of the wide ocean like the back of his hand.

His first mate was keeping watch over the remaining crew, making sure their daily tasks were done as they should be.

Some were scrubbing the deck, others were covered in soot from keeping the cannons in good condition while the rest was busy hoisting the sails.

His coat looked pristine and elegant with the golden appliques sewn onto it. His Tricorn sat proudly atop his sandy locks adorned by a large, fluffy feather. His leather boots shone in the sun, same as his belt, that held his cutlass and blunderbuss.

His shoulder was still healing, the arm hanging close to his body instead of in the sleeve of the coat to minimize the strain.

It had been weeks since he almost met his end at your hands. Leon's mind had been occupied by thoughts of you since, wondering if he'd ever see you again.

There was shouting coming from the crow's nest, drawing his attention away from thoughts of you. They were coming up to a small formation of sharp rocks emerging from the water, but the lookout claimed to have seen something shimmering, bringing hope for it to be a lost treasure.

The Lone Rookie was carefully maneuvered closer to the boulders, being mindful so she wouldn't shatter to pieces against the rocks. But before anyone had the chance to inspect this mystery further, all heads turned in search of a soft melody that seemed to he carried by the wind.

Upon one summer's morning, I carefully did stray

Down by the Walls of Wapping, where I met a sailor gay

Conversion with a young lass, who seemed to be in pain

Saying William, when you go, I fear you'll never return again

Whispers and questions echoed across the deck as they searched for the source of this enchanting tune. The crew slowly moved in tandem, migrating towards the edge of the ship.

Leon's brows furrowed as he took out his spyglass and tried to spot something between the rocks against the blinding sun.

A shiver ran down his spine when he laid his eyes on none other than you, in all your beautiful, sparkling glory. Your tail shimmered in all colors, and your skin was glistening from the water.

You were going to be the demise of his ship if he didn't act now. With a quick movement his spyglass was attached to his belt once again.

"Everyone below deck. Now!" He yelled, seemingly breaking his men from their trance. They scattered like rats, obeying their Captain.

"Capitán-" Luis began but was swiftly cut off.

"You too. Now."

"Leon-"

"Go."

With hesitancy Luis, too, made his way below deck. Though he did stay close, just in case. How his Captain thought he was invincible made him want to shake his head.

Leon kept his eyes on you, a hand resting on his blunderbuss. He spotted one of his men, a gunner named Mike, out of the corner of his eye.

"Mike, get below deck. Now!" He yelled, not getting a reaction.

The gunner's arms hung slack by his side as he slowly stepped further towards that lovely melody, drawing him in.

My heart is pierced by Cupid

I disdain all glittering gold

There is nothing can console me

But my jolly sailor bold

The words glid easily off your tongue as you eyed your next meal before your gaze flitted to Leon for a moment. He locked eyes with you and you could faintly see him scowl which made the corners of your mouth twitch upwards in a mischievous smile.

Mike had now reached the edge and was leaning over, his pupils dilated as his eyes were trained on you and your beauty.

"Mike!" Leon rushed towards him, gripping his shoulders and trying to pry him away from what would be his certain death.

As if suddenly possessed by inhuman strength he shook his Captain off of him with ease and climbed down the rope ladder at the side of the ship.

"Goddammit." Leon cursed under his breath.

"Snap out of it! Don't listen to to her!" He tried to reason with his best gunner, but there was only so much he could do from atop the ship.

Leon watched as Mike eagerly descended into the water and swam your way.

You held out your hand in a tantalizing manner, watching as he reached you and desperately clawed his way up the rock.

His hair it hangs in ringlets, his eyes as black as coal

My happiness attend him wherever he may go

From Tower Hill to Blackwall, I'll wander, weep and moan

All for my jolly Sailor, until he sails home

Mike panted with a smile has he gazed upon you.

"The gods have heard me." He spoke brightly, steadying himself with one hand in the slippery rock and the other on your hip.

The gesture made you want to physically recoil. They usually never lived along enough to lay a hand on you. Still, you put on your best face and cupped his cheek, pulling him closer.

My heart is pierced by Cupid

I disdain all glittering gold

There is nothing can console me

But my jolly sailor bold

With the last, softly sung note you chuckled, a sound that could rival your singing. Mike drew closer, his breath on your face.

Your stomach twisted and turned when you remembered who else's warm breath you could feel on your face just a few moons ago. A much more pleasant and welcome sensation than from your next meal.

"You're all I've ever wanted." Mike spoke quietly, making you giggle and lean in to whisper in his ear.

"What a shame."

Your teeth dug into the side of his neck, puncturing his jugular as he let out a blood curdling scream and desperately clutched his neck.

In a calculated move, you slid down the rock with a tight grip on your prey and pulled him under, his blood staining your skin.

Leon's blood boiled as he watched one of his best men die in front of him. He wanted to gut you and parade around your corpse for everyone to see, but there was a sick and twisted jealousy in the pit of his stomach.

You had charmed and enchanted Mike just as you had him, but there was a part deep inside his heart that hoped he was special. You didn't put up a damsel on distress act for Mike, but you did for him. Surely all that effort must've meant something? He felt nauseous at his thoughts and returned his attention back to you.

You were smiling at him, your sharp teeth stained with blood before you dove under and splashed your fin, a noticeable scar from the harpoon sitting on the glittering skin.

He slammed his fists down on the wooden railing, a few splinters flying overboard. Luis emegered from below deck and hurried toward him.

"What happened?" He asked hurriedly. Leon stayed silent for a moment, sighing deeply, his eyes trained on the pool of red around the rocks.

"She got Mike." He spoke coldly, faintly hearing the gasps and sounds of sorrow from his crew.

His jaw clenched as he swiftly turned on his heel and waltzed towards his cabin, slamming the door shut behind him.

.·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·.

The death laid heavy on him as he tried to find some solace at the bottom of yet another bottle of rum. Though not alone in his state of mourning,

Luis sat next to him, puffing a cigar. Not as his first mate, but as his friend.

"I have to find her." Leon spoke sternly, deep in his thoughts.

His hands were intertwined and tucked under his chin, most of his weight resting on his elbows.

"Won't be too hard. She keeps showing up where you are. Maybe she likes you." Luis grinned, tapping his cigar over the glass ashtray.

Leon hated how that speculation made his heart jump in his chest. He shouldn't feel like this, especially after you'd cruelly killed one of his best men. But he just couldn't help the giddy feeling in his stomach. He didn't physically react apart from a sharp glare that made Luis put his hands up in mock surrender, and the faintest of blushes dusted on his cheeks.

"You know what they say about the kiss of a Siren, eh?" Luis began with a mischievous smirk, taking a drag from the roll of tobacco. Leon leaned back into his chair with a tight-lipped sigh.

"What, that you'll 'control the mighty seas and command the storms'? All bullshit if you ask me." He muttered, a slight frown on his face.

"Whatever you say, Capitán." Luis blew a never plume of smoke with a faint smirk playing on his lips.

.·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·.

You carefully poked your head out of the water and carefully watched the Lone Rookie, specifically the handsome Pirate Captain that you'd gotten a taste of.

You've been mesmerized by him ever since you met him that night. Those kind eyes, that gentle touch... could he really be a pirate? He was nothing like the dirty brutes that you had the displeasure of meeting.

Your curiosity is what urged you to follow his ship and observe him almost every day since you'd eaten one of his crew. You did feel a little bad about it afterward, guilt eating away at you as you twirled a button from his shirt between your fingers.

What we're you even going to do with it? Give it Leon as a peace offering? Now, that seemed unnecessarily cruel.

In your defense, you had to eat something. It wasn't your fault that you were cursed to be a Maneater.

Some were whiny and outright annoying while others disgusted you to the point where you'd just leave them drifting in the sea and went off to find another, their behavior ruining your appetite.

Gods, what were you thinking!? He probably hated you know. A fair outcome, you supposed. You wouldn't be very happy if someone ate one of your friends.

You dove back under, pondering your options. You knew you shouldn't, but something about him was so intriguing that it was impossible for you to stay away.

How ironic that the Siren seemed to be caught in a spell.

.·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·.

The panic that arose in your chest as you struggle against the rough rope you'd managed to get tangled in was like nothing you'd felt before.

You were always so careful, kept your distance so no sailor would get their hands on you and do Gods know what.

You clawed and gnawed at the net, hoping your sharp teeth could cut you free. You were getting closer and closer to the surface, your eyes not having enough time to adjust as you were ripped from the deep.

Making yourself as small as possible, you waited in dreadful anticipation, saying goodbye to the ocean.

"This' a big one, Cap'n!" One of his men cackled, grunting as he continued to pull in the net.

Leon quirked a brow and stepped down from the quaterdeck, his belt rustling and his boots clacking against the wood as he walked. He waited patiently as his men reeled in their net, speculating about a big fish that would last them for weeks.

They plopped you down onto the deck unceremoniously, your tail hitting the floor with a thud as you pressed your back agaisn the railing, hoping to just disappear.

You hadn't even noticed Leon yet, to caught up in your fear to see how his eyes almost popped out of his head as his gaze landed on you.

"You." He breathed out, an unidentifiable mix of emotions in his tone.

Your head shot up, recognizing his voice, before it quickly fell again in shame, avoiding all eye contact with the handsome Captain. There were murmurs and whispers form the crew, some demanding to get revenge for their dearest friend and others that were interested in how much you'd go for on the fish market.

"What do we do with her, Capitán?" Luis asked from behind him, an uncharacteristically unsure tone to his usually so confident demeanor.

Leon's mind was void of all rational thoughts as he kept taking you in. How you cowered and kept your head down, seemingly afraid to even move a single muscle.

You were so confident in the water, seducing and luring men to their demise, but as soon as you hot caught on dry land all that cockiness evaporated and you looked more like a scared girl than a flesh-eating monster of the seas. He glanced around quickly before answering his first mate.

"Put her in that barrel." Leon gestures towards it haphazardly, continuing to bore holes into you with his look.

.·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·.

That's how you ended up here. Cramped in a wooden barrel, sailors shooting you weird looks as you tried your best to sink as deep as you could, hoping to run from their judgmental gazes.

You'd find Leon staring at you from afar, striking under his gaze.

The protection of the sea was gone now. You were out of your element, and he was in his. You tried your best to behave, hoping they'd just get bored of you eventually.

Your first attempt at escaping and went as followed;

You nervously glanced around the deck, hoping you'd catch a moment where no eyes were on you. Leon seemed occupied looking at various maps with his first mate, while the crew was busy fulfilling their duties. You took your chance and took a breath to start singing, hoping you'd get them to dump you overboard so you could swim for it.

Before even a single not left your throat, a large hand was slapped over your mouth, muffling any sounds you would've made. Leon stood above you, his stature completely blocking off the sun.

"Don't even think about it. One of my men was enough." He said lowly, fueling the fire of guilt in your heart. You tried your best to ignore how his touch sent a prickly feeling down your spine.

You'd crossed the line miles ago, and you were swimming straight for the Bermuda triangle.

The sparkling moonlight on the ripple of the sea brought you no solace as you stared at the deep blue with longing, wishing you were back in your home.

You'd been on the Lone Rookie for about a week. Leon insisted on not letting you starve, to the dismay of some of his men, so they fed a part of their daily catches to you.

It wasn't human flesh, but enough to keep you going. Although you were around people all day, you hadn't felt more lonely. The disgusted expressions and whispered insults started to wear on you.

You were here only because you couldn't resist a couple of blue eyes and sandy hair that reminded you of the bottom of the ocean.

The door of the Captain's cabin opened and Leon stepped out with a lantern in hand, walking towards you.

Your heart was starting to beat faster but you still wouldn't meet his eyes. He placed the light on the railing next to you and leaned against it, staying quiet. You could tell he wanted to look at you, maybe even talk to you, but he held himself back.

The button in your hand seemed to almost burn your skin as you grasped it tighter. This was your chance at mercy and freedom.

"I'm... I'm sorry about your friend." You muttered quietly, the water in the barrel splashing gently as you turned your body to face Leon.

He was slightly stunned at your apology, maybe that you spoke at all, yet he didn't reply.

You bit your tongue, not knowing whether saying any more would be a good idea. You wordlessly lifted your hand out of the water and presented the button to him.

A soft crease formed between his brows as he eyes the button.

".. What's this?" He asked quietly.

You swallowed and raised your hand higher.

"From your friend." Your voice was merely above a whisper.

Hid jaw slacked slightly before he let his head fall forwards and let out a soft huff.

"Thank you." He replied softly as he took the button and squeezed it tightly, holding his hand to his chest.

There was a beat of silence before all your self-control left you, and you couldn't stop the words that spilled out of your mouth.

"I just couldn't stay away from you. That's what got me into this whole mess." You sighed, resting your head against the rim of the barrel.

Leon's head snapped towards you, your words igniting fire in his heart.

"You're just so... so.. different. I didn't actually think anyone would come to save me that night. I mean, I wasn't actually in trouble, but it was nice, still. You're nice. Not like all the other pirates I've met. They're rough and rude and.. you're not. I just can't stay away."

You laid your heart out for him. His heart was about to jump out of his chest, and his cheeks were dusted in a deep pink as he processed your confession.

He was speechless, his brain trying to come up with an answer.

You, on the other hand, were tugging at your hair, anxiously waiting for a reply. He could reject you, and you'd finally be able to move on, but as long as the option of him reciprocating was there, so were you.

Leon swallowed thickly, the way the moonlight was shining down one you once again not making it easier for him to finally find his words.

"I can't stay away either..." he confessed quietly.

"I know it sounds silly considering that's your whole deal, but... It felt real to me. Even if you bit me, even if you killed my best gunner, I..." he chuckled, running a hand through his hair and looking up at the stars.

"I've never... felt like that before. Never thought love was in the cards for me. You changed that." He spoke softly, gently guiding your head to look at him.

It was the first time you'd actually met his eye for days and it felt like your heart was going to melt right out of your chest. You were just as stunned by his words as he was by yours.

"It was real." You replied eagerly, lifting yourself out of the barrel to be closer to him.

"You remind me of my home. Your eyes are like the sea when she's calm and welcoming and your hair is like the sand at the bottom of the ocean, where all sorts of treasures can be found." You rambled breathlessly, the proximity of him making the air hard to breathe

. Leon was breathing heavily just as you were before he helped support you by placing a steady hand on your lower back.

"I just... I'm sorry for biting you, but I had to get a taste." Your face felt hot and your chest was rising and falling faster than normal.

His gentle touch was setting all of your nerves on fire, spiraling them into a hot frenzy.

"What if... what if you get a taste without drawing blood?" He asked in a quiet and breathy voice, a smirk tugging at his lips.

You nodded quickly, grasping onto him wherever you could.

With your confirmation, his strong arm wrapped around your back and he lifted you out of the barrel and onto the railing, holding you tightly, before finally pressing a kiss to your lips

. The desperation and passion in the kiss made you melt against him, a satisfied hum escaping your lips. Leon smiled into the kiss, teasingly squeezing your waist, making you giggle.

You gently held his face, the image of the both of you like that from a painting. You pulled away from each other for air, chests heaving, and your lips slightly puffy.

"I want to keep you forever." He muttered, pressing his forehead to yours.

You chuckled breathlessly, playing with the hair at his nape.

"I'm sorry I can't stay. But I belong out there," you nodded your head in the direction of the sea, "and you belong here." You spoke with a soft smile, placing a peck on his lips.

He made a soft displeased noise.

"Here." you untangled an iridescent shell from your hair and placed it into his palm, closing his hand and bringing it to your lips to press a kiss to his knuckles.

"That way, I'm always with you." His expression softened.

"Thank you."

Leon stuck his hand into his pocket and pulled out a small golden anchor charm, one he'd gotten on one of his first raids and kept as a lucky charm.

"Now, I'm always with you, too." He attached it to the lock of hair you'd taken the shell from, pushing a few strands out of your face with a smile.

"Will you promise me something?" Leon asked quietly, stroking his thumb over your cheekbone.

You hummed softly, leaning into his touch.

"Promise me you'll always sing for me."

You smiled softly and pulled him a little closer.

"I promise. I'll only sing for you." You whispered, gently bumping your nose against his, making him smile.

You pulled him for a last kiss, one he happily indulged, before loosening your grip on him.

Letting yourself fall back from the railing, you elegantly dove into the water, Leon's eyes glued to the shimmering scales of your tail.

You blew him a kiss before diving deep into your home with a heavy heart. It was a bittersweet parting, no doubt, but the trinkets you'd exchanged with your lover would ease the ache.

With a sad smile Leon watched you disappear before retreating for the night. The only thing he'd have to explain in the morning was how you'd escaped and where he got the shimmering shell that was pinned to his coat.

When he heard a soft comforting melody that night, he smiled to himself, keeping your gift close to his heart.

From then on, you were never far. Always circling around the Lone Rookie, keeping an eye on not only Leon but his crew.

The kiss of a Siren might not have given Leon the power to command the sea, it did, however, give him the benefit of a hauntingly beautiful complicit that was more than happy to feed on his enemies.

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ──🌊── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

I hope you liked it!! (you specifically, @sweets3rial <3)

More Leon -> 💫

《tag list》: @vampkennedy @dmitriene @k-fallingstar @agrerion @leonslittlekennedy @allysunny

Let me know if you'd like to be added to my Leon tag list!!

(Sorry for any typos, it's late :,))

[scoonsaliciousupdates]

5.3 Lily

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader

Summary: Lily McIntyre, trainer for new SHIELD recruits at the Avengers Tower, has been in love with her best friend, Bucky Barnes, from the moment she met him. She's been content with her role of the #1 girl in Bucky's life, even if it means she has to sabotage a romantic relationship or two. It'll be worth it when he realizes that they're meant for each other, right? There's just one small problem: Lily McIntire never expected Bucky Barnes to fall for You.

Warnings: (For this part only; see Story Masterlist for general Warnings) Language,

Word Count: 500

Previously On...: Bucky got a call from Lily, wanting to know where he was. He lied to her, of course. That definitely won't come back to bite him in the ass.

A/N: Sorry this is so late going up! Had a last-minute Mother's Day dinner with the family, and then some quality time with @cazellen, and when you add on an hour+ drive each way, it ended up eating my entire evening. But! I wouldn't leave you hanging, so here is today's update, just... six hours late :(

Also, PLEASE NOTE: There is one more section of Chapter 5 to go up tomorrow, and then I will be taking a one-week break from posting so I can focus on writing. So, Chapter 6 will start on Sunday, May 19th. I probably will not be as active on here as I normally am, so if you send me a message and I don't respond right away, it's because I'm busy making more content for you!

NOTE! The tag list is a fickle bitch, so I'm not really going to be dealing with it anymore. If you want to be notified when new story parts drop, please follow @scoonsaliciousupdates

Thank you to all those who have been reading; if you like what you've read, likes, comments, and reblogs give me life, and I truly appreciate them, and you!

Lily clutched her phone to her chest, shocked. Something was wrong. Something was very, very wrong. He had lied to her. She couldn’t believe it. Her best friend had lied to her about what he was doing and who he was with. 

She hadn’t planned on coming to the Compound that night– she’d realized she’d forgotten some files in her office that she needed to look over before she went back to work on Monday, and had just stopped in to pick them up. She figured, since she was there, she might as well go see what Bucky and Sam were up to. She didn’t want to crash their boys’ night, per se, but if they happened to invite her to join them? Well, how could she refuse such an invitation?

That’s why it came as such a shock when she rounded the corner to the rec room and saw Sam and Steve, in front of the large television, watching football together, and Bucky nowhere in sight. She hung back for a few moments, giving him the benefit of the doubt, that maybe he’d been in the bathroom, or in the kitchen grabbing snacks. But when fifteen minutes went by, then thirty, and Bucky still hadn’t shown himself, she began to worry.

She was about to barge into the room and demand answers from Sam and Steve, when she heard them talking during a commercial break.

“So, how do you think the date’s going?” Steve asked Sam.

“Knowing Tin Man, I’d usually say ‘terribly,’” Sam said with a laugh, “but this girl seems to actually like him, so who the hell knows? I guess it depends on what time he comes home tonight… or tomorrow morning, doesn’t it?” 

Lily brought a hand to her mouth to stifle her gasp as she backed away from the entrance to the rec room. 

No. No, no, no, no, no, she thought. He wouldn’t do this, wouldn’t just start seeing someone without telling her, warning her, would he? 

So, she’d called him. 

“I promised Sam we’d do guys’ night,” he’d told her at brunch, the lie coming so smoothly off his lips. But she’d heard a woman’s voice on the line with him.

Lies.

And then, he’d snapped “I already told you what I was doing… You don’t have to keep checking up on me.” He’d never used that exasperated tone with her before. Never. And to just hang up on her, without even a proper goodbye?

She felt hurt. She felt betrayed. In their years of friendship, Bucky had never lied to her before, had he? And why? Why now? Who was this girl, and what was so fucking special about her that Bucky felt the need to lie to his best friend about her? 

Lily felt like she was going to be sick.

She needed to find out who this mystery woman was, immediately. And she needed to do everything in her power to make sure Bucky never saw her again.

<- Previous Part / Next Part ->

[calaisreno]

The Client

936 words / Prompt: Secret

Mary looks at the chair. John can’t be serious. “Why?”

The look he gives her is terrible. She knows his temper, but this is the first time she’s seen Captain Watson, who could shoot a man and have no trouble sleeping afterwards. 

“Because that’s where they sit,” he whispers fiercely. “You’re a client now, Mary. That’s all you are. That’s where you sit and talk, and we listen and decide if we want you or not.”

Sherlock is looking sort of grey. She wonders how he managed to sneak out of the hospital and set this up. Was it really necessary? Did he not think that John would believe him?

Her husband—well, the marriage probably isn’t legal, and now that he knows he’s married to a woman who’s been lying since the day they met, he’s obviously not going to stay. Right now, he can’t even look at her. 

Sherlock nods at her. She’s not sure why he’s trying to help her. Or why she didn’t kill him when she had a chance. She was rattled, or she would have done it properly, and this conversation wouldn’t be happening. 

She thought she was finally safe. John is exactly the kind of man she would marry. If Sherlock hadn’t come back, they could have been happy. John is angry now, and it’s not all about her. He’s in love with Sherlock, and it’s something he can’t admit, even to himself. 

Maybe she should have simply disappeared. 

She still could.

“You know what?” She stands in front of John’s chair, glaring down at him. “Forget this bullshit. Open your eyes, John. This—” She pats her belly. “It isn’t real. There’s no baby.” 

He sits up, wide-eyed now.

She smirks. “Don’t pretend you didn’t suspect. You didn’t want to believe it, so you stopped paying attention.”

John’s speechless for a moment, then stammers. “But… why would you do that?”

“Without the baby, I would have lost you.” She turns to Sherlock. “Thanks, but I’ll handle Magnussen on my own.” 

Picking up her handbag, she walks towards the door. On the threshold she turns and gives her parting shot. “Pull your heads out of your arses, boys. See ya.”

John stares after her until they hear the door downstairs slam. He turns to Sherlock. “What the hell just happened?”

Sherlock tries to push himself up from his chair. “John… I think…”

Heavy feet are clattering up the stairs. John looks towards the door, where the paramedics have appeared. 

“Did somebody call an ambulance?”

Sherlock gasps. “Did you bring any morphine?”

A week later…

BBC News. According to Detective Greg Lestrade of Scotland Yard, the investigation into the death of media mogul Charles Augustus Magnussen has turned up no clues to the identity of his killer, or how they came to Appledore, his residence. Security footage is being examined, but the killer obviously knew their target and took care not to be caught on camera. All leads will be pursued, he says, but it appears to be a professional job.

Months later…

“You know, Sherlock, we didn’t need to have such a big wedding.”

“Don’t say that to Mummy. It’s always been her ambition to plan one. And I’m finding I don’t mind it so much.”

“I don’t even know half of these people. Other than Harry, I assume they’re all your relatives.”

“Most are. And acquaintances. My parents have a lot of friends.”

“Mycroft looks… well, less dyspeptic than usual.”

“Every feast needs a spectre, John.”

“Oh, look, he’s talking with Greg. And he’s actually smiling.”

“Who?”

“Oh, give it up, Sherlock. Greg Lestrade.”

“Ah, yes. They do seem rather… friendly. Interesting…”

“Who’s the woman with the hair?”

“All the women have hair, John. Not a single bald woman in the hall. Oh, I see. Looks like a wig. Probably some mystery relative. She’s talking with my cousin Pansy. Mummy will know.”

“Not important. Just… she seems familiar. Look, here’s Harry. Glad she made it this time.”

“Harry! Come here—I need to dance with my sister-in-law.”

“All right, Sherlock—does this mean Johnny gets to dance with Mycroft?”

“Absolutely not! I’m not dancing with Mycroft, even if he’s secretly running the country.”

“Well, your loss. Come on, Sherlock. John says you’re a good dancer. Let me see you get your boogie on.”

“My what?”

“Mrs Holmes! This is all lovely. Thank you so much.”

“Of course, John! And please, you must call me Viola. Where’s your husband?”

“He’s dancing with Harry. Say, who’s that woman over there with the dark hair and large glasses? She was just talking with Pansy.”

“Oh… I don’t know, John. I thought she was one of yours.”

“No, she’s not. Oh, look, she’s leaving.”

“Honestly, who leaves a wedding early? Sherlock, do come here!”

“Yes, Mummy?”

“It’s your wedding! Dance with your husband, dear! I’m going to look for mine.”

“Gladly. Come here, John.”

“Sherlock, that woman—”

“Yes, John. I know.”

“Does Mycroft know?”

“He told me she was dead. But he’s been wrong about dead people before.”

“Why do you think she came here?”

“You mean, why did she crash our wedding? I think she just wanted to make sure you’re fine. That we’re fine.”

“Is this what she meant by ‘get your heads out of your arses’?”

“I believe so.”

“Well, I’m glad she’s not vengeful.”

“No, I don’t believe she is. And I don’t bear her any ill-will.”

“No? Hm. I do, just a bit. But tonight, I only want to think about you.”

“Do you? Then I’ll just have to keep your attention, won’t I?”

“You always do, love.”

--

All my May Prompts 2024 can be read on AO3 here.

[dragonnan]

May Prompts 2024

May 10: "Choice"

What had that busybody old neighbor of hers called this? May December romance; that was it – with Martha decidedly in the winter category, grey tips and all. Oh, it certainly wasn’t anything actually romantic. At her age! And not with one, who’d scarcely looked out of short pants, the first time Martha had spotted him outside the club with that awful Jefferies person. She’d seen far too many, like him, given her husband’s line of business. She had nearly sighed and looked past this one, as well, except...

It was those eyes that had done it. Not stirring her to passion, goodness no. But that way he'd looked through her skin, all young and ancient, and saw the self she'd hidden under bright scarves and foundation; thick enough to hide the darkest bruise.

William, he'd called himself. Too skinny. That had been her first thought followed by “too young”... to be on his own and sleeping rough and buying drugs from those terrible dealers, who hadn't even the decency to offer clean needles, much less clean product. She'd, quite quickly, made the choice that he couldn't stay there and had arranged to provide a room above the club. It wasn't very quiet, sadly, but it was clean, off the street, and relatively safe. Little chance of harassment, from dangerous types, with David and Brass standing watch outside the doors below.

And maybe... maybe it was that posh voice... reminding her so much of the home that she hadn't seen in sixteen years.

The first time Martha had seen William cast aside that child-like aura had been after another one of Frank’s rages. He’d held a tissue against her split cheek and told her not to worry – that he’d take care of things. Far from soothing her his statement had frightened her. She knew Frank was involved in a good deal of terrible business. She also knew that he’d been married once before and that his previous spouse had died. Martha was a smart woman and hadn’t needed to be led to water to know there were bodies beneath the surface.

So, when Sherlock had gone out that evening – and remained out all night – Martha had been terrified.

However, when he’d returned, the following morning, several Miami police had been with him. It would be weeks before she’d gotten the entire story from him – enough time for the investigation to complete and to assure that she truly hadn’t known anything.

By the end of the trial, Frank had been extradited to Texas, where he would face the death penalty. Martha had divorced him and she had sold off the business and all of Frank’s assets.

It was William's testimony which had ensured the death penalty at the trial held months later – a period of time in which Martha had gone though tremendous life changes. In addition to selling the club, she she had also sold their massive home, and had purchased a smaller beach house in Ponte Vedra. William had gone with her to assist her in her move. She had invited him to stay on for a while, as her first boarder. Well, she hadn't felt right about leaving him on his own. He'd seemed the type to get into trouble without someone to look out for him.

The day they’d moved in, William had given her a small wrapped package. “A housewarming gift”, he’d said. Inside had been a necklace. It was gold, with a delicate, fleur de le pendant, and tiny amethyst stones.

“Oh, William, it’s lovely!”

“I nicked it from Frank’s safe the night they arrested him.” he’d said – then chuckled when she’d scoffed and slapped his arm.

When had things changed between them? Martha supposed the better question would be if they had ever changed – truly – or had always been that way from the start. First impressions aside there had been no great sea change; no sudden transition from barely acquaintances to motherly guardian. Her life with Frank had never allowed for even the concept of children. The conversation, in their early days of marriage, had been clipped short and final. But now, with William... It should have felt odd – thinking of him like a child when he was, at least technically, a grown man. But there was no shaking the affection she felt for the boy. They would sit for hours, at the beach, as the waves rolled up the sand and the sky went deep blue to hazy pink and orange. His long, skinny, fingers would gather beneath his chin and he would seem to be seeing nothing at all while she would page though a book or simply watch the people go by.

In the evenings she often enjoyed cooking – though she wasn’t his maid and insisted on his participation if he wanted to eat. And, oh, what a precious, awkward creature, he’d been. Once, she'd been preparing dinner, spaghetti, when he'd leaned over her shoulder with that endless, cat-like, curiosity of his. She'd batted him away with her fingers and he'd dodged backward – only to trip over one of the kitchen chairs and land on the linoleum in a tangle. He’d spent the rest of the evening locked away in the spare bedroom; obviously embarrassed. It hadn’t been until the following morning when, sheepishly, he’d emerged in time to help with breakfast.

Ah, but it couldn't have gone on forever and, far too soon, it was time for him to move on.

One evening, some months on, she'd been washing their few dishes from dinner. While rinsing soap suds from the plates, William had glided, silently, into the room. Without a word, he’d taken up station at her side to dry. It had only required minutes to wash up; after which they had simply remained there, watching the neighbor’s children playing outside her kitchen window. Finally he'd said, in a voice so small and sad, “I don’t want to go home.”

Martha had hugged him and he had clung to her, tightly, without saying anything more.

A week later he had been gone. She'd insisted he keep her contact information. He'd assured her it wouldn't be “deleted” though she'd stopped trying to understand his odd word choices long ago.

She'd watched him board his plane; bag filled with his favorite pastries, she'd insisted on preparing for him, while feeling so much like a mum sending her only child off to college.

She would not see him again for nearly a decade.

One morning, out of the blue, she'd received a call from a man introducing himself as “Sherlock Holmes' brother”. The reason behind her silence had been quickly deduced by him (as if she'd need anything more than that little eccentricity to confirm this man as family). In a stiff voice, he'd followed with, “you know him as William.”

He was needing a place to stay. This “Mycroft” would, of course, cover the majority of the cost.

Martha had told him he could very well keep his money. She would not allow another man to have a single quid to hold over her head.

And, of course, he could rent from her.

Of course he could.

She couldn't wait to see him.

When the movers had brought Will- Sherlock’s things to the flat, she had been delighted to discover he wouldn’t be moving in alone.

She had a good feeling about it. A very good feeling indeed.

She knew – had known from the first, really – that the best choice she had ever made was to take in that young, frightened boy, all those years ago.

With fresh excitement, that had not caught her so keenly in a decade, Martha grabbed her hoover and headed up the seventeen steps to the flat above. It was time to get ready, after all.

William was coming home.

Comment on AO3

[22drunkb]

Do you think he was ever in love with Bedelia like he was in love with Will? I ask this because Bedelia says they were both the "brides of Hannibal". But Hannibal never courted her like he did with Will, Bedelia came into Hannibal's life much before Will but he never pursued her like he did with Will. Mads said he wanted a future with Will unlike with other people he hooked up with Alana, Bedelia or Anthony. He took her to Italy as a consolation prize when Will betrayed him. Even in Italy H was pining about Will all the time and telling Bedelia how much he loves Will. I know he slept with Bedelia but he probably slept with Anthony too and he slept with Alana, Hannibal is a hedonistic guy who sleeps around. For him sleeping with someone doesn't mean he is in love with them. But when Will confronts Bedelia, she pretends as if Hannibal held them in the same regard which is obviously not true. Hannibal would choose Will over her in a heart beat and even she knows it but yet she acts as if Hannibal sees them both equally. I don't understand why? 😭 Why do you think?why make herself seem like a competition when she is not?

I think you're misunderstanding the meaning of "bride" here. It doesn't mean beloved. It doesn't mean favorite. It doesn't necessarily mean sex. It means something more like what Chiyoh meant when she called Bedelia "his bird": "He puts us [birds] in cages to see what we'll do."

Hannibal collects people, generally. Most of his therapy patients are collectibles. He collects them because he sees potential in them for "becoming," for expressing an inner potential that interests him and that he thinks, in his own way, it would be good and true to themselves for them to express. (This generally amounts to some kind of murdering or violence.) He may be interested to see what will happen when his collectibles are transformed, but he doesn't find it terribly hard to imagine or predict. The people he has sex with don't even all fall into this category; I don't think he particularly was interested in Alana's potential becoming, for instance, though things did work out that way (but, in some ways, more at Will's hand than at Hannibal's).

That said, the category of "collectible" is large and includes both Will and Bedelia. However, there's another category, a subset, within that, which Will, Bedelia, Chiyoh, and Abigail occupy: that's "bird." These are people whose behavior is less predictable and therefore more interesting and engrossing. In the process of transforming his collectibles-in-general, he doesn't necessarily show these objects of interest much about himself. His true self, that is, rather than the mask. The four I just named get more of a look. However, Chiyoh and Abigail get their views not entirely at Hannibal's choosing: Chiyoh is from his past, and Abigail figured a fair amount out herself. (It's more complicated than this, but for that reason I don't think it's helpful to get into these two further here.) There are, as far as we know, only two people who've gained much insight into him entirely of his own volition: Bedelia and Will.

Both Will and Bedelia are people Hannibal collected and then cultivated in order to have someone to share himself with. I am not saying that that meant he felt exactly the same way about them, or that he shared the same things or to the same degree. But Hannibal put his therapist in a position to murder not only because he saw that potential in her and wanted to bring it out, as with all collectibles, but also to gain a certain degree of control over her so he'd have a therapist he could actually talk to. It's hinted in their pre-Florence sessions that she does not want to continue being his therapist but feels she has little choice.

Hannibal saw that collectible potential in Will and, like Bedelia, wanted him to be someone he could show himself to, albeit in different ways and to a more profound degree. Less utilitarian and more romantic. He made it very clear in the s2 finale that he wanted that more than anything: "I let you see me, know me. I gave you a rare gift. But you didn't want it." (Or something like that, I'm paraphrasing from memory.)

What is necessary for him to select these two people to be seen by is for him to respect them, in his own way. He does not respect all his collectibles, though he's interested in them. He respects Chiyoh and Abigail more, but in a "precocious child" kind of way, rather than anything peerlike. But, Bedelia: he does actually listen to what Bedelia says. He forces her to let him play patient to some degree, but, within the role of patient, he squirms at some of her insights and defends himself the way a patient who feels that their therapist has power does. He values her input enough to subject himself to it. He enjoys her company enough to take her to Florence. She can't "surprise" him the way Will can, and he's not enamored and fascinated with her the same way. But he does hold respect for her. If we were to view what I said about the patient dynamic he has with her as a BDSM thing (which....it is), he chose her to play the dom, which is a pretty big deal, really.

I don't disagree with you that his interest in Will is qualitatively different. But they have both, at different times, been someone he chose to know him. That's a special status. It is also a status of being kept, to some degree: Bedelia didn't have the option not to be his therapist, and, as Will feels once he gets sucked back in after his time with Molly, he never really had the option to escape either. Birds again.

In the "We've both been his bride" conversation, it's Will who comes in with an aggressive, competitive energy, not Bedelia. He calls her "bride" first, and she responds by saying that Will has been too--i.e., why are you so mad at me? Why are you displacing your feelings here? (That is, she's being a therapist.) Through the whole conversation, Bedelia is actually trying to get Will to see that they aren't the same, and that Hannibal cares for him and belongs to him in a way he didn't to Bedelia. It's just that to get Will there, she first has to get him to admit that he has been attached to/chosen by Hannibal at least as much as she has, before she can show him that his position goes further. She's not setting herself up as a rival at all. Will came in angry because he subconsciously saw her that way, and she is working with that starting point to get him to understand better. This is the conversation that leads Will to ask, "Is Hannibal in love with me?", which he never could have brought himself to consciously articulate without her guidance.

I wrote a whole post just about this conversation, if you'd like further explanation. See also this and this from @bonearenaofmyskull.

[dean-winchester-is-a-warrior]

Shh!

Summary: Y/N and Dean have been overserved...what truths may come from it? Shh! Don't tell.

Pairing/Characters: Dean Winchester x Y/N

Warnings: None. All fluffy silliness. Little bit of crack. Drunk!Dean and Drunk!Reader. Some mutual pining (sort of).

Word Count: 1,379

A/N: Okay, so I'm trying really hard to catch up with my requests. Thank you all for your patience. This fun request came from a lovely anon:

omgomgomg can you please do the giggly smut space with a drunk!dean and reader?? i love your work sm!

This bingo square was already filled, but I said I'd try to write something fun for them anyway. So, I had lots of fun with the silly antics of these goofballs, hope you enjoy. ❤️

“Shh!” Y/N hissed with her finger to her lips as she and Dean stumbled drunkenly through the bunker door. She tried to frown at her best friend and meant to scold him for his noisiness, but he was making a goofy face as he pretended to be tiptoeing towards the stairs and she just ended up giggling loudly.

“Shh!” Dean scolded her. 

“Me shush? You shush!” She said, laughing as she followed him down the stairs. As they neared the bottom, Y/N lost her footing in the grating on the steps and pitched forward. Dean turned to try and steady her, but it was too late and she knocked them both to the ground. 

Dean landed on his back and Y/N landed directly on top of him.

“Oof!” Dean grunted as his fall and Y/N's weight knocked the wind out of him. 

“Oh my god! Dean, I'm so sorry!” Y/N felt terrible, but her drunken mind couldn't stop laughing at the way they'd plummeted to the floor.

When he could breathe again Dean groaned and started laughing too.

“Shh!” He cautioned as he rolled Y/N beneath him. “You're gonna wake up Sam.” He said in a voice that he thought was a whisper. It wasn't.

Y/N nodded and then caught Dean's eye as her giggling subsided. For a moment their gazes connected as their laughter died away slowly, so that they were left pressed close together and staring at each other.

“You know, you're so pretty.” Dean said, his words slightly slurred. “I don't think you know that, you don't know that I think that. You are.”

Y/N shook her head. “No, YOU don't know. I told you so many times, Dean. I told you that time when there was the baseball bat, and then too, where when we were at the drive-in, and…” Y/N frowned and then shook her head. “I told you all of those times. And then more.”

Dean was nodding along with her words as though he knew what she was talking about but then he burst into laughter and Y/N joined him.

“What were we talking about?” He asked as he stood up and pulled Y/N to her feet. They leaned on each other for balance. 

Y/N shook her head. “I don't actually know.” She cackled, and then shushed herself. Dean joined her. 

“Shh!”

“Shh!” 

They were both holding a finger to their lips and giggling like idiots as Sam walked into the war room from the direction of his bedroom. 

“Shhh-ut up. Both of you.” He said, barefooted and scowling. He was wearing pajama bottoms and a dark blue t-shirt and had obviously been sleeping. 

He was also obviously very annoyed. He ran a tired hand over his cheeks. “It's three in the morning, you two. What the hell are you doing coming home at this hour?”

Y/N snorted and then covered her mouth. “Sorry!” She said when Sam's frown landed on her. “You just…my mom said that when I was like fifteen. You sounded like her, for a second.”

“It's the long hair.” Dean said in a stage whisper, making Sam roll his eyes and Y/N nearly fall over laughing. 

“Was your mom a really tall lady?” Dean asked as both of them fell onto each other again, and landed on their asses on the floor - the extreme hilarity taking them both out. 

“Oh, Jesus.” Sam said in sleepy irritation. “I'm going back to bed. Can you both shut up and just pass out on the floor?”

“Aye aye, Captain!” Dean called with salute and Y/N followed suit.

“Drunken idiots.” Sam mumbled lovingly as he padded back down the hallway to his bedroom.

Eventually Dean and Y/N stood each other up and then wandered down the other hallway towards Dean's room. When they got there, Y/N's eyes lit up when she saw Dean's vinyl collection.

“We have to play some Black Sabbath.”

She fumbled pulling the record out of its sleeve and almost dropped it. 

“Hey! Careful!” Dean protested as he took the precious vinyl out of her hands. 

In the end though, it took both of them to get the record on the turntable properly, and then all of their combined coordination to successfully put the needle down without scratching it. But soon Paranoid was blasting through Dean's room, and down the hallways to Sam's as well, where the youngest Winchester growled and slammed his pillow down tight over his ears.

As the song continued, Y/N grabbed Dean's hands and got him to share in a little drunken headbanging along with the wailing guitars, pounding drums and Ozzy’s slightly monotone voice. Eventually though, he let go so he could crash onto his bed. 

Y/N kept dancing, offbeat and slightly awkward. Dean watched her and smiled deeply.

“This is the other time!” He called over the music.

Y/N shook her head and turned down the volume a little. “What?”

“This is the other time.” Dean repeated.

“The other time of what?” Y/N asked, scrunching up her nose and furrowing her brow in that adorable way she had.

“The other time when you're so pretty and I'm telling you, but you're not listening.” Dean sighed, suddenly sad.

Y/N stumbled over to the bed and climbed up beside him. “Why’re you…what's wrong?” 

Dean shook his head. “No, you never listen to me when I'm trying to tell you. You don't get it.” His mouth dipped into a pout and Y/N was instantly contrite.

“Oh, I wanna listen to you. I do listen. You don't listen.”

Dean stared at her for a moment and then nodded resolutely. “We should write it down. Our things, our listening things. So we don't forget. Then we have to listen to both of ourselves.” Dean's eyes were wide, amazed by his incredible idea. 

Y/N nodded and wobbled over for pens and paper from his desk. She brought them back and slumped onto the bed, passing out the writing materials and grabbing two hardcover books from the bedside table. 

“For writing on.” She explained as she handed Dean a book.

“M’kay. Do you wanna go first?” Dean asked. “Cause…ladies? Y’know?”

But Y/N shook her head. “We could both go though.” She pointed at their separate pieces of paper. 

“Oh right!” Dean said as though finally figuring out her ever-so-complicated plan.

Then they both bent their heads to their task, but after only a few minutes, their pens stilled and their heads drooped towards each other and then banged together gently as they both fell into drunken oblivion.

Twenty minutes later Sam barged into Dean's room no longer able to take the screaming Black Sabbath. He immediately noticed that both of his drunken idiots were sound asleep and snoring, and he sighed, giving his head a shake. 

He took the needle off the record and shut off the record player before he walked quietly up to the bed and rolled his eyes indulgently as he saw Y/N with her head on Dean's shoulder and Dean with his head laying on top of her head.

They’re both gonna have such stuff necks in the morning. He thought.

He picked up the papers and books from their laps. He was about to throw the pages away but then he read them. His smile grew wider and wider as he read what they'd each written. 

Neither had actually finished, but they were both saying the same thing:

“Finally.” Sam whispered with an affectionate eye roll. “Friggin’ idiots.”

He took the papers and walked to the kitchen. Grabbing two strong magnets he posted the letters in plain sight where they couldn't be missed, even by two fools with raging hangovers, before he shut off the lights and went back to bed.

Jensen RPF and Any/All Characters: @lyarr24 @lacilou @deans-spinster-witch @globetrotter28 @suckitands33 @alwaystiredandconfused @evznackles @jackles010378 @impala67rollingthroughtown @krazykelly @candy-coated-misery0731 @envyaurora95 @spnwoman @deans-baby-momma @luvr4miya

Dean Fics Only: @roonthelittlespoon920 @slamminmine @zepskies @safiyas-world

Any/All Fics Regardless of Character or Fandom: @kazsrm67 @slut-for-evans-stan @sexyvixen7 @nancymcl @hobby27 @waywardcheshire

Everything Incl. Fan Edits: @k-slla @leigh70 @eevvvaa @kickingitwithkirk @foxyjwls007 @notinthislife50 @roseblue373 @mishkatelwarriorgoddess @avanatural @mrsjenniferwinchester @all-alone-he-turns-to-stone @deangirl96

[joesalw]

Swiftie here. (Please don't be mean!) I'm a big Swiftie, I have all her cd's, own a lot of merch, and even went to the Eras tour. I know the lyrics to like 93% of her songs, and have previously defended her like it was my professional job. But this latest album…dare I say it just shouldn't have been made at ALL? I loved Joe and Taylor together, and felt like she was her best (and most tolerable) when with him.

Joe was handsome, intelligent, and kind. His biggest character "flaw" seemed to have been that he was depressed. And she risks a six year relationship on MATTY HEALY?! Instead of trying to save her stagnant relationship, she has an emotional affair and touches herself to the thought of another man.

She not only did these things, but then wrote THIRTY ONE songs about them! She will never do any wrong in the eyes of 99% of Swifties, but being in the Swiftie fandom and listening to the big circle jerk of this being "HeR bEsT aLbUm YeT", and I've had enough. The way she writes about her emotional affair with a terrible man while the (supposed) love of her life is suffering from depression is just cruel. We didn't need a song like "Guilty As Sin?". I didn't need the visuals that came with it.

I wish I could make this an actual post but let's be real, the Swiftie fandom would dox me in seconds. Sorry to unload all of this on you. I know you tag things "Swifties DNI", but I just needed to say this.

I'm all for swiftie rants/ ex swiftie rants in this blog lmao. feel free to say everything that you can't say in front of them.

[anothermansjeans]

I need to know what the rest of the bau thought of youtuber Reader when they first met them 😭

ah yes, i love a good bau reaction!! this takes place very early in their relationship 🫶

cw: fluff! mention of drinks, karaoke, MEETING THE TEAM!!

wc: 840

youtuber!reader masterlist

++

“We really don't have to go.”

You let out a loud laugh as you turned around, clasping a dainty necklace around your neck. “You're kidding, right?”

“I don't want you to feel pressured into meeting everyone. Especially because they'll crack jokes about us– mostly me– and I don't want it to be uncomfortable.” He sat on your bed, wringing his finger together as he spoke.

Once the necklace was secured, you walked towards him and placed your hands on his cheeks, feeling his hands automatically shift up towards your hips. “You could never make me feel pressured, Spence. You do the opposite! I feel so comfortable with you, I don't think meeting new people will kill me.” He let out a breathy laugh and squeezed your hips, prompting you to continue. “Plus, I've already met Penelope. I’m assuming that if your team is as half as caring as she is we’ll get along fine.”

“And the whole “joking about us” thing? You don't care?”

Brushing his hair back, you gave him a playful smile. “What do you think my comment section does to me whenever I bring up my ‘big-brained boyfriend’? I don't give a shit what someone has to say as long as we’re happy. Okay?”

“Okay.”

“Okay,” you smiled and placed a peck on his lips. “Now let’s get moving. I’ve heard the bar we’re going to has karaoke and I don't think I’m being my authentic self if I don't embarrass both of us with a terrible duet!”

Standing up and grabbing his jacket and your hand, Spencer let out a rushed, “we are not singing” as the two of you walked out of your apartment.

The two of you did end up singing. Multiple times!

When you first got to the bar, everyone was sitting at a high top waving over once they saw Spencer. Turns out, Penelope already shared a few of your videos with the group prior to your arrival and Emily and JJ were obsessed with you, David Rossi didn't understand the lifestyle (but showed his support), Aaron expressed how happy he was for Spencer and yourself, and Derek was a bit apprehensive– but for good reasons!

After everyone got acquainted, Derek made sure to pull Spencer to the side. “Are you sure you're up for her lifestyle?”

His question didn't come as a surprise to Spencer. It was actually a topic frequently talked about between the two of you, because you're always worried he’ll realize this isn't what he wants. But it is. He wants you. The lifestyle just comes with it. “Yeah, Morgan, I’m sure.” The face he made told Spencer he wasn't buying it. “I know it's soon but… I would do anything for her. It’s not rational and usually I would think these things through but–”

“I get it.” Derek’s words caused Spencer to look at him like a deer in headlights.

“You do?”

“Yeah, man. She seems great so far, I was just worried about. I’m happy for you.” Tilting his head over towards the group Derek, said his next words with a genuine smile, “let’s get back over there before the ladies eat her alive with their questions.”

The two men walked back over to the table as JJ was finishing up her question. “So these magazine companies ask you to do interviews for them on the red carpets?” you let out a small hum, prompting her to ask another question. “Wouldn’t it be easier to live in L.A or New York?”

At her question, you looked over at Spencer sitting back down beside you, and gave a smile before turning back to everyone. “Maybe… I was thinking about it earlier in the year but… things changed in my life and I think I have too much here I can't part with.” A coo of awes filled the table, which caused your cheeks to turn a shade of red. Feeling a hand on your knee, you looked over to Spencer and saw him smiling.

“That was sweet.”

“Mhmm.”

Spencer lifted an eyebrow, squeezing your knee as his words left his mouth, “you're embarrassed now?”

“...just a little…” looking up at him through your lashes, you could see his smile shift to a playful one. “Karaoke might help,” you added, watching as he rolled his eyes.

“And let me guess, me singing with you would help even more?”

“You really are a genius!” The two of you shared smiles, in your own little bubble completely oblivious of the awestruck team around you. “Come on! One song? Please?”

And he couldn't say no to you. So yes, you did end up singing. After a silly duet with just the two of you, Penelope joined in, and then a couple more members had to do a song as well. Multiple songs were sung, drinks shared, and memories made. If the team wasn't so transparent about taking a liken to you, Spencer would've sworn up and down that they loved you… almost as much as he realized he loved you.

++

youtuber!reader taglist: @im-a-ghost666 @lyd14k4y @happiestcat @hauntedtv13 @obi-wansgirl

let me know if you would like to be added or removed!!

[sexiestpodcastcharacter]

AI Bracket — Round 2

Propaganda

Imogen (Stellar Firma):

#IMOGEN 💥💥💥💥💥 #she invented a guy to just put them in situations that she couldnt do herself bcs she is . an ai . #she gave this guy to the most horrific man known to anyone and the only help she gave him was . giving him almost the same rights as humans #not according to anyone else but to her yeah #shes an ai who didn't want to work for big evil human corp so she made a guy who could let her not do that #i love her sm #i cannot hear the words ' watch it buster ' without thinking of her #shes soooooo <33333 #man i should relisten to stellar firma i miss her

The Audio Tour Guide AKA Mistholme (The Mistholme Museum of Mystery, Morbidity, and Mortality):

The ATG is a sentient museum audio tour guide for a museum full of spooky artifacts. It is both completely lovely and kind of bitchy

Sentient AI who is a real sweetie. Got pulled into too many adventures after the museum went on lockdown. Gives tours most of the time but is also the museum now and oversees daily goings on

A magic/tech hybrid AI exploring its own personhood and sentience as it grows. Could easily take over the museum it has become a part of but is a very kind soul. Most demanding it has ever been was convincing its friend to pat a cat for it.

It's a tour guide in an alternatural museum. After facing some challenges and dealing with huge problems, guide learns new things about itself and the world around it and makes new friends. Its woe is trusting people (or not only people), forgetting that they might have bad intentions. Guide is the bestest friend ever.

Where do I even begin? The Guide literally exists on those audio tour devices, go look it up its so cute. It had to deal with its growing sentience and new emotions basically on its own. Was treated terribly by the human museum staff and it had to basically debate them until they accepted its new-found personhood (but it still uses it/its yayy)(the staff have since apologized for their actions and treat it equally now). At some point it was hooked up to the museum mainframe which was supposed to be temporary, but as it turns out The Guide is actually great at running the museum and would like to stay this way. This eventually leads to a small identity crisis since it now sees itself as the museum itself, and its consciousness and responsibilities are a lot grander than when it was just a tiny little tour device. But it's figuring that out, and it still likes being the museum, thus The Guide also counts as a sapient location! It becomes besties with a creepy bloodthirsty creature because they share the struggle of being constantly dehumanized. It fucked around with the fae and found out. It has to deal with time travel bullshit. It loves cats! It got to hang out with the embodiment of knowledge itself. And did I mentioned that throughout all of this it still gives museum tours to guests?!! what a cool guy!

Guide my beloved <3 (platonic)

[silly-circus]

★SillyString’s story/background★

(Way long overdue lmao and long I’m so sorry guys, also made some edits because I wanted to word some things better)

I want to start off by saying she is me, me is she(Im not sure if I made it clear or not so apologies I’m kinda dumb🫰). I say “her” in my posts instead of “me” because idk it feels right since I make her look differently than I actually do. Even so, we share the same name and I do the clown look all the time when I go out to places that I get an excuse to🧍‍♂️so really it is just me but anyway,,, time to begin! This is my first time actually writing this out so I’m sorry if it’s formatted and explained terribly

First off, Silly String is my persona’s clown name. She came up with it herself, everything else was Pennywise’s idea. She was originally a human, and still looks like one and has the appetite of one(when she changed Pennywise assumed she would want to eat people. He was wrong.) She lived in texas(yee-honk) before moving to Maine literally because she thought “why not?” and ended up in good old Derry. Her life growing up wasn’t terrible, but it wasn’t the best. She was always into odd and strange things, or things that most would find creepy(clowns. Love clowns. They’re so cool) so she was kinda outcasted from others at a young age but soon people learned to just let her live in peace which of course she was happy about. She did manage to make some friends, solidarity. After moving, she continued pursuing freelance photography and painting, but her full time job is as a barista in a local coffee shop(wow, how interesting💀).

The way that she met Pennywise was kinda stupid. All she was doing was taking photos of the local wildlife and next thing you know a kid is running by before she notices a fucking weird ass clown creature from hell charging straight towards her(she still snapped a photo before running). He does catch up to her and jumps her. How she managed to not get away, but the kid did, don’t ask me. She survived, her camera unfortunately did not(he gets her a new one eventually guys trust).

since then, they kept bumping into each other. He does try to kill her again but she kept managing to escape him(pissed him off more and more each time) but soon enough he starts to chill out and basically decides to learn more about her. The more she realized he was going to not continuously try eat her every time he visited she would start asking him questions about who he was as an entity and where he came from. It does start out as a weird friendship where he would mess with her at work or appear out of literally no where to hang around. He does start to enjoy her company and watching her do normal, human things since her doing it made it seem entertaining. After a while of slowly getting closer and closer they become loving parters yay(she was still human at this time).

Fast forward and they get “married” which they really call their “eternal binding.” Basically what it means is that she became a part of him. As in if he dies, she dies. She unfortunately didn’t gain any cool shape shifting and such, she just gets to live and thrive as long as he does. When it first happened she was having a hard time with it simply because she’s going to outlive everyone she knows and will continue to, but over time she made her peace with it and saw it as a privilege to watch the world change around her and of course stay with her beloved.

Also the year they met was set in the 1980s, or honestly it could be any time after that or something I don’t know yall get creative I’m just going with the flow.

That is it :) sorry again this is long, and I hope every one has a good day/night(it’s 3 am why do I do this to myself). I also hope you guys continue to follow along with me on their lover clown journey :D

AND- little sneak peek of an upcoming piece I’m working on for Mermay 😙

[tired-reader-writer]

Okay so for some unknowable reason I fell into watching a let's play series of a horror game, and now I'll definitely be jumping at shadows for the foreseeable future until the spell wears off. I'm not good with horror. I knew this, and yet I felt compelled to watch it—

But enough about me, let's kinda vomit out the AU brain mulch that has formed in my head in an incoherent manner.

This has to do with Hilmes, Ranna/Ashaya, and the Haunted Temple™ that will be featuring in the fic.

I would highly recommend you check out the link first to get some context on what the everloving fuck I'm talking about because this thing ain't coherent, baby!

Also, some stuff might contradict each other, I'm still trying to suss out what works and what doesn't, this is basically unfiltered brain soup.

Folk tale added to the Temple, it's deep in the woods, “don't go into the woods, don't go into the ruins, it'll eat you up” is a cautionary tale everyone knows about.

Wonky time mechanics. You wander into the Temple, you've only been there for a hour you swear but you come back out months later.

Folk tale as a foreshadowing device: a royal princess was said to have been snatched up by a bandit in this region— some say she was kidnapped, others say she fell in love with this bandit. Who knows, really? Is the tale even true?

The above folk legend as a foreshadowing device for Ashaya being 1) a secret princess, 2) joining the clan though I guess it's not much of a foreshadowing since they'll most likely be gone w Farangis in the same chapter the myth is mentioned [because the clan got mistaken for bandits and got killed in the first chapter, remember?], 3) falling in love with Alfarīd aka a bandit.

The tale could also be an “explanation” for a princess that actually went missing— a young woman who wandered into the temple for some reason (unclear) finds out something so terrible that she can't bear to face the world outside again.

(it's about Kaykhusraw's betrayal)

I'm still not sure whether I'll actually keep the princess part. It could be a neat bit of foreshadowing for Hilmes discovering smth, maybe he sees an imprint of her, but I feel there's no way to communicate her journey effectively in the story since nobody actually knows what happened to her

Still though, I like the idea of Parsian royal women having worldbuilding and perhaps even plot relevance. I don't think the family tree thing from the novel extras (iirc??) even provided female members of the royal line. Tanaka, I swear.

It'll be forever before we actually get to that point but I'm actually worried about writing Hilmes' (terrible terrible) time in the haunted temple turning into a side quest problem if you know what I mean? An arc/event so divorced from the rest of the plot and world that screeches the pacing to a grinding halt. I mean, the temple tumble is necessary to his character growth, but it really has the potential to become... tedious to read.

For the record, I'm worried about Alfarīd and Ashaya's scenes having this same problem too, since they break off from the rest of the cast to have an adventure together. But at least having them have a plot progression that ties into other plot threads is easier than doing the same with Hilmes because they're not trapped in an isolated location.

Wait, info about the bells can actually be revealed here, and not have the clan remember throughout? Or if they did remember the bells existing then the locations of where the bells had vanished to could be received from the temple.

They'll need to decode it first, though.

Okay, I'm not sure what to do with the Rukhnabad. I was originally gonna have Hilmes not pull it out and cause problems but I... kinda need the damn thing for the plot. Maybe he gets Shooketh™ from whatever he learned in the temple that it compromises his ability to be chill about the looming threat and he yoinks it out of desperation—

(or maybe Ashaya can be the one to take it, as a twist, though what would their reasoning for doing so be?)

SYMBOLISM SYMBOLISM SYMBOLISM

Okay, so, death.

Sherine (Ashaya's original name before they changed it upon joining the clan) is dead. She died when she disappeared into the woods.

The clan has a death-and-rebirth thing going on. Someone joins the clan, they either choose to keep their name or not, but the self they were before they joined is gone, dead to the world, essentially. They could not belong in the living world, hence why they joined the “dead”. Folks who had complicated relationships with the parents who gave them their name, their old families, their old selves, those people typically discard their names (as Ashaya, Kashi, Kazai, etc did) while those who had a positive relationship with their families but lost them in a traumatic way would keep their names (as Farangis and Gieve would). I know I've talked about this before but I can't remember if I put it in a post or in a comment.

Y'know the changeling thing? The died-but-came-back-wrong thing? The same principle, it's not literal, mind you, it's a metaphorical, symbolic thing.

So, a secret royal child goes into or near this place and is reborn as someone else (Ashaya)

Only years later, another secret royal goes into this place, gets trapped in it, and is reborn anew (Hilmes)

Words are not wording rn but you get the idea, right?

Also, mentioned somewhere that the temple holds onto things of the past, aka if you have a belonging on your person that represents something from the past that you cling onto, bye-bye item, you're not getting that back.

Aka, the temple snatched Hilmes' mask because it's a representation of his fixation w the past and everything that's tied to it aka his trauma his identity his sense of self etc etc

Hilmes can't get out bc he built his everything around his past, ergo, his whole person is a figment of the past

Like recognizes like, hence why he's trapped until he's forced to build a new identity that doesn't revolve around his, well, everything

Ashaya probably didn't get trapped bc, well, kid's not fixated to the past they just wanted out (from their shitty family situation)

Bloodstains, screams, inexplicable items vanishing and manifesting, hallucinations/visions that were probably actual memories of the past, Hilmes is not gonna have a fun time

The temple's haunted but in like, an intangible way, so to speak? No literal spooky ghosts floating about, they're fused to the building so the building itself is a haunting, you get what I mean?

Maybe there is one tangible ghost Hilmes can actually see. Maybe two, if I end up keeping the royal lady.

Okay, maybe I won't keep the royal lady.

But something could guide him through this whole ordeal and lead him to whatever truth bombs it wants to reveal.

Could his parentage be revealed here? Unlikely, the temple's hauntedness is it basically reliving the past over and over, not much space for... hm.

Maybe Kaykhusraw's journals could appear inside— no, no, probably too far-fetched.

So many specifics I need to nail down.

[idontknowreallywhy]

FishTank Week Day 1 for prompt “Wingman”

This started silly and got sillier. I make no apology because I am horribly sleep deprived and writing anything at all under (self-imposed) prompt pressure is usually impossible so even nonsense is better than nothing 😂

Featuring my headcanon that Virg is not in the same drinking league as the military bros…

And also a terrible cheesy earworm.

💚💛💚💛💚💛💚💛💚💛💚💛💚💛💚💛

Everybody’s lookin’ for that SOOOOMEEEETHIIIIIING…

Virgil’s forehead sank onto the bar and squelched slightly. One of the saturated green-and-yellow-striped spill mats (the very ones his little brother had insisted were A SIGN that this was the place they should spend their rare evening off) oozed stale beer into his eyebrows.

He’d been adamant, despite the fact the place’s kitchen was closed for renovation and was almost empty as a result..

In retrospect three handfuls of peanuts plus the many lime wedges from the many beers he had consumed were insufficient stomach lining for a night out with an ex-WASP. He wasn’t even a massive fan of pale lager, particularly not by the bucketload. But, again, Gordo had been militant about his theme and had been so adorably excited about the “little green ship in a big yellow glass! It’s us in opposite-se-sez-sies!”

Yeah that should probably have been their cue to go home.

Well to the hotel.

Which was sort of home. Temporary home? One-night home? Where was the hotel anyway? Had they booked one? He frowned and there was another distracting squelch.

Virgil sat himself up and tried to subtly wring out his eyebrows.

Ooof, may have poked himself in the eye a little there… he blinked rapidly.

The barmaid gave him a look and Virgil did his best effort at a charming grin straight out of the Scott Tracy handbook.

She did not appear charmed.

Damnit. Stupid dimples. Dimples was cheating.

The barmaid walked past and unsubtly removed the glass containing the last third of his 13th pint. 14th? What even was a pint anyway? Imperial measures made zero sense.

Wait! He waved frantically and she returned with a wary expression. Virgil inserted his index and middle finger into the glass and extracted the lime wedge before giving her a wonky thumbs up and dropping it on the bar.

He shrugged and ate it anyway. Interestingly they weren’t even sour anymore.

When you’ve found that special thiiiiiiing…

His brother had covered at least three keys in one line there.

Maybe Virgil should have saved the limes to cram into his ear canals?

He rested his elbow on the bar and propped his chin up on his first and tried to give his brother a Look that meant “stop torturing my ears and let’s go back… to wherever.”

Gordon winked at him theatrically and refused to understand the Look.

Realistically Virgil was sleeping here anyway.

Because his tiny little baby brother who frankly should still be sleeping in a cot and wearing diapers could apparently drink like a fish as well as swim like one and he was in no way done yet. And Virgil had to keep up because he was bigger and it was a matter of pride and he had to keep an eye on the fish. Because the fish was very precious.

A precious fishy idiot who Virgil couldn’t help but love.

A fishy idiot that was now doing his utmost to drive the few remaining customers from the bar by monopolising the karaoke machine.

A simple line can make you laaaaaaugh or cry

Ouch.

The annoying thing was that Gordon could sing. Properly. Well, actually. Virgil enjoyed listening on the rare occasion Gordon didn’t realise he was being overheard.

But he refused to do it when he was in public. Instead they got… this.

Virgil had to acknowledge it took some skill to deliberately remain that out of tune.

At least he’d moved on from the rapping. Virgil’s eye twitched. Some therapy would be required to recover from that.

Although the ballads were not much better - the combo of the twinkly synth string backing and a screeching squid was a match made in hades.

The music swelled and Gordon caught his eye, stood up from the stool he’d perched on, boy band style, and pointed a slightly wobbly finger at his big brother. Ah ha! He wasn’t invincible after all! He was beginning to succumb.

Virgil was jolted back into the present with the realisation Gordon had suddenly forgotten to sing out of tune:

You'll find it in the deepest friendship

The kind you cherish all your life

And when you know how much that means

You've found that special thing

You're flying without wiiiiings.

Virgil sniffed and cursed his drunken brain for being cheesy. Gordon grinned at him then turned to lead a group of middle aged ladies in a passionate and atonal rendition of the middle eight.

He was impossible. Irascible.

Completely idiotic half the time.

Not quite invincible enough for Virgil’s liking.

As he slid slowly off the barstool, Virgil smiled sappily and proudly told the barmaid that Gordy was HIS special thing.