#that's fine? i always got too invested in everything too quickly anyways. take everything too seriously. maybe this is good.

[silasbug]

i've been feeling a little weird lately. not quite real. reality seems fuzzy.

my head, ah. it feels like it's been stuffed into a pillow. everything is soft and muffled in this strangely oppressive (but comforting) way.

i keep having this thought that "i've been such a different person lately". i think i have. i've.. not quite felt like me. it feels off. it feels strange. but in a good way.

it feels like i'm gently floating along a river and, despite the usual pitfalls of depression (a snag of a branch or the nibble of a fish), it's felt fine.

the water is luke warm and normally i would be shivering, but i am too tired to shiver. it's that point where your body stops convulsing and gently eases into the cold. where you're glad that it stops trembling, because it became exhausting.

i just keep noticing it. (the change). i'm painfully aware of it sitting on the edge of my consciousness. it's gently waving at me. it doesn't feel malicious, but it feels out of place. (thinking about it in tangible terms like a being helps).

i feel light in the way that i feel when i no longer care about something. when i can let it go. send it off into the fog. let it fade. that sounds positive, but it's just been nothing. neither good nor bad. it's indifference.

and maybe there are some things i have stopped caring about, or have finally (subconsciously) decided to just leave and accept. "it is what it is". and for once, it just is.

the.. ache that usually accompanies that statement isn't there. it's not the *sighs hopelessly, wishing it could be different*.

i reckon i'm not making sense but my thoughts rarely do and i don't care. my brain is tired and i think it's done thinking. it's acknowledged that it is done thinking.

it's allowing for a strange sort peace. i feel calm. i wouldn't exactly call it content (but isn't it content, in a way? it is), but it feels like i could fall off the face of the earth right now and be fine. be okay. or feel nothing at all.

i could.. become a drop of water and join the puddle as a whole.

i'm buried beneath the leaves and i am happy to stay here.

it's closure.

i don't know why it feels that way or what caused this and i'm sure it'll stop feeling that way soon (hello darkness, my old friend, anyone?), but this is.. fine. for now. it's.. ah. certainly better than the alternative.

i'm sure the need and the will to struggle will arise again once the anxiety and the fear settle back in, but it could stay like this for all i care.

and i think i just realized that maybe i've just been basking in the feeling of fear leaving my body for the first time.

it's literally felt like i've been able to dislodge the metaphorical fear-stick that is constantly up my ass. just a little.

who knew not feeling afraid for once would feel like a dream? like unreality? all soft and fuzzy.

it'll be back something fierce. be nicer if it didn't.

i'd even give it a kiss goodbye if that meant it would leave me be.

anyways.

[all-alone-he-turns-to-stone]

The Lucky Shirt

Dean Winchester Masterlist

Summary: You were sure you had the right bag. But turns out, when you walked head first into a wall of perfection, you swapped laundry bags with him by mistake. Now, you’re stuck with only his clothes to wear and not much time to find him again before the presentation that could change your life.

Pairing: Dean x F!Reader

Rating: G

Word Count: 1600

Warning: stress from work, but mostly fluff

Squares: Laundromat meet cute for @anyfandomfluffbingo​​​​

A/n: This is the first thing I’ve written in a while, so it’s not perfect, but I’m trying to fight that writer block and my heartbreak with some fluff. I’m still working on the requests I have, I just had to write something else to try and clear my mind

It was your first apartment and it was a good deal. The rent was cheap, but you had everything you needed, a bathroom, a bedroom and a kitchen. Three rooms, small, fourth floor, a balcony opening on the road below. Nothing special, but it was your home.

The only thing missing was a washing room. Not that you had a washing machine anyway, it was already complicated to leave home to go and live alone. And there was a laundromat down the road, so there was no need at the moment.

A week after moving in, a pile of dirty clothes was slowly turning into a mountain of laundry in the corner of your room. You finally had a day off, so you took advantage of it, put the clothes in a trash bag and headed to the laundromat.

It had to be said, you always had that problem of focusing on the task at hand. While the clothes were being washed, you were on your phone, texting your boss about your next work and playing candy crush at the same time. Once the washing and drying was done, you put back everything in your bag and walked to the exit, your eyes still glued to your phone.

That’s when you hit it. The wall. Well, you thought it was a wall, with how hard and solid it was. With a little shriek, you dropped everything you were holding. Your bag was luckily tied and rolled away while your phone crashed and a broken sound echoed in your ears.

“Shit!” You exclaimed, immediately going for your phone, sighing in relief when you saw the device had no damage, as the phone case took all of it.

“Son of a bitch, I’m so sorry,” someone said and legs entered your sight. Your eyes roamed up, noticing bowlegs hidden under the distressed jeans. Up and up and you saw flannel, black shirt, and finally, perfection.

That man was beyond beautiful. Getting up quickly, you stared at him for a few seconds, getting lost in his magnificent green eyes. “It’s uh… My fault, I should be looking where I go,” you managed to mutter as you understood you didn’t walk into a wall, but into him.

“It’s fine, really, you got all the fall damage,” he grinned at you, and god, that smile was devastating. “Your phone’s okay?”

“Yeah,” you awkwardly smiled, waving your phone to show him. “It’s okay.” You stayed like that a couple of seconds more before noticing it was plain creepy to stare at him. Gosh you were so awkward. “I should be going, so… It was nice uh meeting you,” you babbled, walking quickly to the trash bag on the floor to pick it up.

“Hey, wait,” the man said and you turned your head towards him. “What’s your name?”

You pondered if you should tell him, after all, it wasn’t everyday that you met the perfect man in a laundromat. Perfect man that even asked for your name. You had to take that opportunity, go out, see him again, do something else than work…

But you were too stubborn and invested in your work for that.

“I’m late, sorry!” You said instead of answering. 

It was only back home that you realized you should have told him your name and asked for his.

At first, nothing was wrong. You threw the bag in your room, planning on putting away the laundry in your drawers later. There were things you needed to do before work tomorrow if you wanted to have that holiday off next week and perhaps, that promotion you wanted so much. 

Around midnight, your eyes were burning, so you decided to call it a day and go to bed. In the darkness of your room, your foot met something round and soft, and you remembered your laundry. You had to put it away before it wrinkled in the bag.

Once the light was on, you opened the bag and fetched one item inside.

“Huh?” You wondered as a green, long sleeve shirt emerged from the bag. You didn’t remember buying that shirt, let alone wash it, but maybe you were just too tired to remember. You shrugged it off and plunged your hand inside for another item. This time, a white button up shirt appeared. Your brain started to spin as you got the next clothing quickly. Ties. T-shirts. An endless amount of flannels. Men’s underwear. Black socks. “Fuck.”

As men’s clothes formed a mountain of problems around you, you realized you had the wrong bag.

-

Finding one particular person in this big ass town you were not familiar with turned out to be more than difficult. It was impossible. 

Not only were you stuck with the green eyed man’s clothes, but you had nothing else to put on except the clothes you had on today and joggers. And tomorrow you had an important day at work, you had to leave a good impression on your boss! You couldn’t go to work with… those!

It was too late to go shopping since it was midnight. And tomorrow, your shift was way too early for you to buy clothes before it started. You had no other choice but to wear his stuff.

The next morning, it was with anxiety at the top that you put on his green shirt, noticing it was very comfortable, in the end, and picked a random pair of jogger pants. That would have to do, you were already late.

Turned out, your outfit didn’t seem to please your boss. Even if your presentation was more than perfect, flawless, even, that you worked your ass off for it, the moment you stepped in with that shirt (that was very comfortable, so much more comfortable than the tight skirt and blouse you usually wear), you knew you lost your chance, your holiday and the promotion.

But it wasn't a bad thing. Because somehow… It opened your eyes. 

You put so much effort in that work, so much time, lost so many opportunities to simply live, pushed away your dreams… And for what? To get denied when you arrive in a shirt? It made you realize you didn’t even like that job. It was stressful, and it made you miserable. It wasn’t what you wanted to do. You wanted to go back to school, study and get your dream job. And it wasn’t it.

With all the overtime you did at that place, you were okay financially to quit that job and get a less stressful one while you would go back to school. So that was what you did, you quitted your job and fuck, did it feel good to be free.

You were on your way back home, feeling lighter than ever, when a familiar voice sounded behind you.

“Hey! That’s my shirt!”

Turning back, you met those beautiful green eyes again. But this time, the man wasn’t alone, there was a taller man next to him. You noticed the green eyed one had baggy clothes on, probably his.

“It’s you!” You smiled at seeing him again. What were the odds? “So, I think we mixed bags,” you laughed at his expression following the more than obvious statement you just made.

“Yeah, I think so too,” he grinned, relief washing over his face. “We’ve been looking for you everywhere.”

“Sorry, I was at work, losing my job,” you shrugged, but before he could add something, you were quicker. “This is the best day of my life. And this,” you touched the shirt, “is now my lucky shirt.”

“You lost your job and it’s the best day of your life?” The other man wondered. You nodded. 

“It’s my shirt, by the way,” the green eyed one muttered under his breath, his comment making you smile more.

“It made me realize what I was losing with this job,” you shrugged simply. “I wasn’t happy there. But you weren't looking for me to know about my life, right? Come on, I’ll go fetch your clothes at my place.”

Once the laundry was with their right owner, it was time to say goodbye. Only one day went by, and yet, it felt like an adventure that lasted a week. Just because you met that stranger at a laundromat and switched bags by mistake. 

Who in their right mind put their clean laundry in a trash bag anyway? Like, really? You thought you were the only one.

Before the two men left, you stopped the green eyed one. The other said he would wait outside, leaving you alone with him.

“I’m still wearing your shirt,” you said, shyness filling your face with heat. 

“You can keep it,” he replied. “Seems like it brings you luck. And it fits you nicely,” he winked, starting to walk away, but you stopped him again.

“Wait… Uhm… What’s your name?” 

The man turned, and you met his beautiful eyes once again. “Dean. I’m Dean.”

“I’m Y/n, nice to meet you,” you smiled. “Do you think I could get your number? You know, just in case there’s still some clothes we mixed,” you swayed from one foot to the other, not believing you had the guts to finally ask him. If someone told you just yesterday you would ask someone their numbers, you wouldn’t have believed them.

“Of course,” Dean said as he looked for his phone in his pockets so you could write your number in it. “Only if you give me yours first.”

Yeah. That day was good. And it was official, that shirt was your lucky shirt.

Forever taglist: @nitnat6245​​ @b3autyfuldisast3r​​ @eevvvaa​​ @wickedinspirations​​ @fictional-affairs​​ @awkward-and-indecisive​​ @cryptichobbit​​

Supernatural Tag List: @cryptichobbit​ @sexyvixen7 @stixnstripesworld @charred-angelwings @treat-winchesterswith-kindness​ @lyarr24​ @fiftyshadesgrl​

Dean Winchester Tag List: @akshi8278​​ @siospins2​​ @kazsrm67​​ @wtrpxrks​​ @deanwanddamons​​ @thoughts-and-funnies​​ @charred-angelwings​​ @jensendreamland​​ @deanswaywardgirl​​ @happyt0exist​​ @waynes-multiverse​

[garlichoisan]

𝐂𝐫𝐮𝐬𝐡 𝐑𝐮𝐬𝐡 [4]

[an ATEEZ social media au]

🍓 Characters/Pairing: San x reader, Wooyoung x reader + more in the future 🍩 Genre: fluff, angst, suggestive 🍰 AU info: social media au, university!au, named reader 💌 Word Count: 1.5 k ⚠️ Warnings: ❌

💟 if you wanna be added to the taglist, please just send an ask!

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Hongjoong was nervously pacing around the art gallery, waiting for the event to begin. He was re-reading his own speech over and over again, as if he wasn't sure if he was going to be able to memorize it all, even though it was written by him. He was holding the piece of paper so tightly that it began looking a little crumpled which reminded Hongjoong to soften his grip.

When he felt a hand on his shoulder, he turned around quickly.

"Are you okay, Joong?" San asked.

"You startled me," Hongjoong said, sounding as if he was almost out of breath.

"Don't be nervous. You're gonna do just fine! Your photos are literally breathtaking," San reassured him with a smile. "Still, you're the one who is out of breath."

Hongjoong just sighed and nervously fixed the collar of his shirt.

"Wooyoung and Mingi are on their way. Please remember to breathe," San reminded his older friend, patting his shoulder, and left the young photographer alone.

Not too long after people started coming to the art gallery and soon the place became quite noisy. It was time for Hongjoong to get over his fear of public speaking and begin with his welcome speech. He got to the podium, trying to avoid looking other people in the eye but his own eyes were searching for Mrs. Seo, the woman who was his mentor and who made this art exhibition possible by investing both time and money in him and his art. She warned him that she was going to be late which made Hongjoong even more nervous, but he was still hoping to see her soon so that his mind can be put at ease. Instead, his eyes found his friends - San, Wooyoung and Mingi were all there, smiling and waving at him, even making finger hearts, which made Hongjoong crack a smile. Even though they were bantering a lot when they were together, it was at moments like these that he realized just how lucky he was to have them in his life. That also gave him an unexpected amount of energy and confidence.

"Hello, my name is Kim Hongjoong. Nice to meet you all," he started talking shakily. When he finished his sentence, he took a deep breath, which calmed him down a little, and continued with his speech. "I've been taking photos of everything I found beautiful since I was a kid. It has always been helping me express my emotions properly and convey them into art. It’s so amazing to be able to capture the world’s beauty, because there are so many things that deserve to be appreciated. And not only places, I’m talking about people too, but I still haven’t found a model who fascinates me, so I’m currently only taking photos of places.”

He fixed his gaze on the people in the hall to make sure they were still listening to him and when he made sure he had their full attention, he continued with his speech.

“Anyways, I'm so happy to be with you all right now. I want to thank you for being here and supporting me… Your motivation is so inspiring to me and I promise I’m going to do everything I can to show you even better photos in the future. I’d like to thank to everyone who is here tonight, as well as my great friends and my family. Last, but not least, I’d like to thank the amazing woman who made this exhibition possible, even though she’s not here yet: and this is Mrs. Seo, my amazing mentor. I hope you enjoy today’s exhibition."

Then he added a couple more conclusive sentences and the room suddenly erupted into cheers and applause. Hongjoong's heart was beating fast because of the adrenaline of having publicly spoken in front of so many people. He was truly proud of himself.

When he got off the podium, he went to his friends.

"You were great out there!" San exclaimed. "We have the coolest friend in the world."

“I second that. However, how could you say you had no good model to take photos of? Don’t you remember how many times I offered to be your model and let you take photos of me? I can pull of every vibe you want me to and let you take your most aesthetic photos ever.

“If Joong lets you become his model, no people are gonna come to his next exhibition because no one would want to see your face,” Wooyoung said mockingly as he looked at Mingi.

Mingi only scoffed in response.

“You’re not that handsome either.” Mingi retorted.

“You can’t appreciate my beauty. And the only reason I’m not letting Hongjoong take photos of me is that he won’t be able to afford taking even one photo of me. You know, this face is not for free,” Wooyoung pointed at his face cockily, as all of his friends seemed more than a little skeptical about his claims.

Then Hongjoong saw Mrs. Seo and his eyes lit up.

"Ah, I’m so tired of your endless bickering. See you later, idiots," Hongjoong said and went to the older woman.

"Hongjoong! Sorry for being so late. I had to drive my daughter to her piano lesson," Mrs. Seo apologized as she hugged Hongjoong.

When they moved away, Hongjoong spoke.

"You don't have to worry," the photographer reassured her with a soft smile.

"I'm sure you did great, didn't you?"

"The feeling was amazing, but I need a drink," Hongjoong laughed.

"Go get it then," Mrs. Seo answered in the same light-hearted way.

Hongjoong went to the table with snacks and drinks and got himself a glass of champagne which he chugged at once. When he felt another presence next to him, he turned to look at the person.

"What is Seo Daeun doing here?" San asked, trying to avoid being seen by the older woman.

"She is my mentor, the one I told you about. She made this photo exhibition possible," Hongjoong explained patiently. "Why? How do you know her?"

San opened his mouth to speak, but stopped as soon as he saw Mrs. Seo in front of him.

"San! I can't believe I see you here. You've grown up so much! You're really becoming more and more handsome."

Hongjoong seemed really confused.

"Uh, yeah, hello, Mrs. Seo," San bowed slightly, showing his respect.

"You're as respectful as always! Good manners and good looks, Jina really missed her best chance."

Hongjoong listened to them talk, trying to understand what they were talking about, before he realized he should probably leave them alone.

"Should I go somewhere else so you two can talk?" Hongjoong asked, trying to be mindful.

"Please don't," San whispered, grabbing his wrist.

Mrs. Seo looked at the interaction with confusion.

"Actually my boyfriend and I would like some time alone."

"Boyfriend?!" Hongjoong and Mrs. Seo spoke at the same time.

"Yes, babe. Didn't you know you were my boyfriend?" San laughed nervously, nudging his older friend playfully.

He finally realized San didn't want to talk to Mrs. Seo at all and actually wanted to avoid her, but he couldn’t express it properly since he was too good mannered, and maybe that was the reason why he said something so ridiculous. So Hongjoong quickly got into his role as he wrapped his arm around San’s broad shoulder.

"Sorry, darling. I'm still a little excited because of the exhibition and I can’t fully grasp what’s happening around me."

San sighed with relief.

"It's okay. So, will you show me around?" San asked with a flirtatious tone, running his fingers along Hongjoong’s arm, wanting nothing more than to run away from Mrs. Seo.

"It would be a pleasure for me," Hongjoong continued playing along, holding San’s body even closer to his.

"It was nice seeing you, Mrs. Seo. Tell Jina I said hi," San bowed again, then took Hongjoong's hand and led him to the entrance of the art gallery. When they stopped walking and they were far enough, San took a deep breath.

"Ah, finally, that was intense."

Hongjoong just raised an eyebrow questioningly, waiting for some sort of explanation, but when he realized San wasn't going to give him one, he decided to break the silcence himself.

"What was this madness all about? And who is Jina?"

"Jina is my ex-girlfriend and Mrs. Seo is her mother," San explained. "I didn't expect to meet her here. Sorry if I made you look bad in front of her."

"It's okay, San. But don't use me as your fake boyfriend ever again," Hongjoong laughed.

"I can't promise anything, babe," San winked at his older friend, receiving a sharp smack on his shoulder, then he burst out laughing. "I’m gonna get some drinks. Thanks for helping me out, Joong.”

When San made sure Mrs. Seo wasn't near the table with snacks and drinks, he made his way there, pouring himself a glass of champagne, then another one, until he lost count.

╔═══════════ SUMMARY ═══════════╗

San was often told that he was everything a girl wanted to date: handsome, funny and smart. That was until they got to know him better. Then he was told he was too much, too overwhelming, had too many emotions and was too chaotic. Thus his experience with dating was not as good as one would have thought. The problem: he has the biggest crush on a girl he met whilst studying abroad. But every time he messages his crush, he seems to mess things up further and further. With the help of his hyperactive friends he tries to win Ara's heart but before that, he has to convince her he doesn't actually hate her.

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

💟 taglist:

@violets-are-vladi @chocochannel @ateezcbk

[justsomeectoplasm]

Having the absolute biggest brain rot for Kari right now.

Ok so imagine:

Ori children au. Kari figures out that candles isn't this worlds currency and decides to become a guide for adventure parties. It's a new thing that the guilds are offering to older skykids that can get out of sticky situations. And Kari being well a skykid with unusual strength and height, this job would suite her well. That's what she thought.

It does... okay-ish. The ones she guides are mostly timid historians that want to study some ancient site or an adventure party too inexperienced to go to actual monster invested places. Which is fine. They pay, but it's not enough. It's the barely the bare minimum for what she want.

So she lowers her conditions on her description, allowing to guide others through places and areas that are marked for high ranking adventurers. She can deal with those areas. She had to be the one to help cartographers skids mark dangerous places on their maps, after all. And she's visited them plenty of times to be more experienced.

A few days past, she's starting to think she might have made a mistake signing up for a common guild. They always liked to brag about their adventurers to make sure more members join and the money keeps rolling. So, just as she was about to resign from her job, the guild attendant pulls her aside.

"We've got a group that's interested."

"What? Really?"

"Yup! And they're willing to pay double the price, so saddle up kid. They're waiting at the tavern."

Double!? Who let their rich kid go on adventuring!? Kari wanted to decline, sensing that something is wrong, but the attendant insisted that she should take this job. 'They're a great group' the attendant smiled 'They can be a bit... overwhelming. But they're good people.'

Well. That doesn't sound good.

But double the price?

....

Kari wanted to kick herself for being so greedy. She hasn't been this desperate for cash since she was a thief in wasteland.

But, she's on top of the roof of the tavern, and there's no turning back now. She doesn't want to face the attendant after agreeing anyway.

She slips into the nearby window. After the city banned people under the age of 18 to drink, taverns have been throwing Kari out in fear that the guards of the city might misunderstand and suspect the tavern of breaking the newly formed law. After sneaking past the employees, Kari quickly fled down the stairs and into the tavern.

Since she has arrived at this new world, everything looked too big for Kari. She was so use that everything was small because of her height, but for the first time she's met and seen others that put her height to shame.

And the customers of this tavern are no different.

The whole tavern is filled with the most shady people Kari has ever met. Scar ridden faces and arms, weapons layed on top of tables or hung lazily off their hips, the stench of alcohol reaking off of their breaths. Side eyes gleaming towards Kari, almost as if they're a beast inspecting a bug.

From what Kari heard, this group rented out the entire tavern, meaning that everyone in this place is part of this group that hired her.

From the jeers, arguments and occasional comment on her horns, Kari wades through the Tavern to find the boss. A man with one eye and a beard, and a magic seal on his shoulder. 'He's greying out too. But he's still got that adventure spirit.' The attendant words echoes through her mind.

"Bingo" Kari muttered as she spotted the leader in a corner booth.

Punching another member.

"How many times did I tell ya ta not eat ma food?! Are yer tryin' ta make me kill ya?!" He slurred over his words, his cheeks dusted in pink. The poor sap that was punched sat up, his nose bleeding down to his chin and his eyes dazed. He shook his head a bit before lying back down, still trying to recover from the blow.

'Great. He's drunk too.'

Kari wanted to turn away. She didn't want anything to do with this group. Besides, a group of moths was recently born and they need a mentor to look after them.

"Hey! Who brought their kid here!?"

Kari almost jumped from the question. The man who spoke was the leader, who seem to have started to sober up after punching someone. Kari straightened her back, pushing back any fear she had at the back of her mind.

"Name's Kari. I was told that a group here wanted to hire me for my guiding services."

The leader looked at her and grunted, almost as if he wanted to laugh at her. "You don't look like one of those flying kids. How old are ye?"

"Older than those whose footsteps have already left this world."

"Quit speaking like a poet. You look about 12 years old and those horns make you look like your ma's a cow."

Kari furrowed her eyebrows as the group around the table laughed. She clicked her tongud

"And you look like you're one foot in the grave and the other in an alleyway full of shit but you don't see me pointing out the obvious-"

Kari quickly held her hand over her mouth. Shit, she didn't mean to say that out loud! And here she thought she got rid of her blunt habit.

The whole tavern turned deathly quiet. Even the cheery music that seemed to play around the bar non stop has gone quiet. Kari had thought that she needed to book it out of this tavern. She had heard that in the Ragma kingdom, insulting a leader of an adventuring party can cause you to get your tongue cut off.

But then laughter erupted in the Tavern. The leader seemed to have joined in too, rubbing the back of his neck as if embarrassed. He motioned Kari to sit on the chair next to him, his wide grin never leaving his face. Kari blinked, confused at his sudden welcome. She had never experienced something like this in her life. "I like ye! You got a good tongue on you. The names Gilbert. Where are you from?"

Kari shifted in her chair, trying not to vomit from the stench of alcohol in his breath. "I don't come from any place. I travel to wherever there work is."

A woman hummed as she sat next to Kari. She was part of this group, having visible muscles and scars on her arms and the same magic seal as Gilbert. "So your parents like to travel, hm? I wish I could've had that as a kid. Would make leaving my hometown feel less sentimental." She takes a swig from her drink. Kari tilts her head a bit. Parents? She heard about something like that. They sounded like her mentor in some ways. Perhaps that's what she meant?

Kari shook her head. They're getting off topic and she has to get out of this taverns as quickly as possible.

"Anyway, about the job-"

"Let's talk about the job later! Order something for you kid. I'll pay for it." Gilbert mumbles, as he burps. "Kids gotta eat to grow after all." He says, as he slowly sets his head on the table, falling asleep. "Wha- Hey! Wake up! I can't be here all day! The tavern owner is gonna kick me out when she realises I snuck in!" Kari protests as she shakes him, and groaning when she realises that it's no use. Mira chuckles and pats Kari's head. "He always gets like this when we're heading back into an adventure. Don't worry, I'll tell him you were here. In the mean time," she reaches into his pocket and pulls out a pouch, the coins jiggling and clinking around in it. She pulls out five coins; three silver and two gold" take this as a starting payment. Sounds good?" Mira places the coins in Kari's hands before turning to cuss at another member for bumping into her chair.

Kari's eyes widen at the amount. Usually she gets paid in copper coins, sometimes silver if she did a good job. The coins glisten in her hands. She quickly stuffs it in her pocket and Mira smiles at her eagerness. "Meet us at the brink of sunrise at the black horse inn. We travel early since we're setting off to Ragma. Make sure to dress warmly too. I don't want to carry a kid too in those cold mountains." Kari glares at her, holding her tongue because she doesn't want to make a mistake and anger someone for real this time. "Understood. I'll meet you there." Mira smiles, mischief hiding behind her eyes. "And make sure you bring your parents-"

"I don't have any."

Mira's eyes widen, stunned as she sputters out apologies, but Kari was already slipping out the door, the tavern owner chasing behind her, her orange cape fluttering as she runs down the streets, the sun setting on thw horizon of the city.

[secret-bug-pain-blog]

Febuwhump, Day 9 - Voice Loss

AO3 mirror here. So, the rest of these Will Not Be On Time. It's fine, we'll finish it anyways, the plague can't stop us forever. Here's your serving of Mothiva Making Really Bad Decisions, ft. another OC.

Mothiva regretted a lot of things, in her life.

Muddling her brand with her adventuring career was one. Letting the weevils she had for a marketing team talk her into some of those early shoots was another. Antagonizing Team Snakemouth – well, she didn’t regret that, not entirely. They had thrown the first stones, after all, but she admitted the Colosseum had been a bit much, and she was lucky the Colosseum’s acoustics hadn’t captured enough of that embarrassing display for anything more than her flaring her wings and posturing at the other team to make it to the Termanet.

Out of everything she’d done, though, that years-ago collaboration with Arc had to be her biggest regret.

He was pretty, of course. Easy on the eyes, like every other idol – he was bought and trained for it, after all, of course he would be nice to look at. Edgy brand, red and black and flashy, marketed more towards brats who wanted “cool” without deviating from normal.

Utterly insufferable.

Arc was a newer idol. Only a few years past his debut, and promising enough that he’d managed to get a slot on a late-night show with her. It was supposed to be quick – lending support to smaller idols, getting some of that valuable cross-pollination between their fandoms, getting in some banter by taking advantage of the contrast between their personas during an interview.

It had been, without a doubt, the biggest mistake of her career.

Of course, it had seemed like a good idea at first. Fans loved the interplay between their stage personas, the show had been a massive success, merchandise had sold out quickly, and she’d gotten a good few hundred berries of paycheck on royalties. All well and good for her, at least at first.

Unfortunately, Arc didn’t have the good sense to keep it a simple one-time collab, and Mothiva just had to be hit with the ill fortune of bugs latching onto their pairing.

There were bugs who wanted to see another show. There were bugs who wanted to see where their collective work would go, now that they’d shown they had chemistry. There were bugs invested in their relationship, and there was just enough of a crossover between their fans now that the higher-ups had decided she had to play coy enough to keep bugs guessing, never mind that the pest had springboarded to fame on her wing’s wake.

The amount of times they’d been scheduled for the same damn show was more than a bit infuriating, and she was getting exhausted with the number of times she’d had to dance around him in an interview room.

As far as Mothiva was concerned, Arc was a fame-mongering pain in her ass that enjoyed nothing more than needling her further, and he’d never done anything to dismiss the impression.

Which made it all the more unpleasant to find him knocking on her door all too early in the morning.

“Arc. How pleasant to see you.”

The moth grinned at her, lopsided and all too cocky. “Mothi! I was hoping you’d be home. With your pet out front, I thought you might’ve been palling it up with the other explorers.

“Always a pleasure,” Mothiva forced out. His smile didn’t waver. Of course, he’d choose now to darken her doorstep. When she couldn’t even call in Zasp to scare him off, when she…

He stood pointedly in the doorway for a few more minutes, leaning on the doorframe. She stared at him, waiting for him to take the hint and leave. Of course, he didn’t do any such thing.

He cleared his throat after a while. “…going to let me in?”

Gods, she didn’t want to. But given how he was… she probably didn’t have a choice, not unless she wanted some anecdote about her being a frigid bitch in the tabloids tomorrow. She still let him stew for a moment before opening the door all the way.

His smile was practically blinding. “Oh, good- we’ve got things to talk abut, you and I, and I wouldn’t want to make you have to smile for the camera.”

Mothiva gave him a dismissive huff as he trotted indoors. If she’d known who was going to be there, she’d never have answered that door. If Zasp wasn’t busy palling around with Team Snakemouth…

Whatever her teammate saw in the bugs was lost on her.

At least he didn’t have to deal with Arc.

“Go on, sit. I’ll make some tea.” He gave a disarming grin, leaning on the kitchen door. “Do you have a-“

“Kettle’s in the back of the cupboard.” The one under the sink, anyways. Hopefully, he’d have the common sense to leave everything else alone, or at least give up on serving anything before finding it. Mothiva’d had to leave a half-butchered aphid on the counter to answer the door, and aphid meat was expensive enough that she’d turn the carving knife on him if he did anything with it before she could finish.

He clattered around in the kitchen. Making a fool of himself, no doubt. Mothiva glowered at the door.

Who had even given him her address? This room was a rental – it wasn’t like she travelled with a trailer, or anything. Someone had to have told him- and if it was the hotel staff, she’d have to pick a new damn hotel again. Consider roughing it, maybe. She’d never had much trouble with anything besides fixing her fur afterwards, and she knew Zasp was more comfortable under a rock than in a hotel room…

Finally, Arc came back in, toting a tray of tea. A jar of honey sat atop the tray – ugh, really? Mothiva eyed it with disdain, hoping he hadn’t added any already. Tea was tolerable. Having to deal with some concoction that was three parts sugar and one part tea wasn’t.

“Well, you’ve been doing well lately, right, Mothi? I’ve seen your ratings- top of the board, across the board. It’s impressive, for any bug, and you know that”

Mothiva hummed a half-pleased tone, watching him out of the corner of her eye. Insufferable suck-up. She’d wonder how he’d made it out of idol school, but it was all too clear he’d spent his time sucking up to teachers instead of learning to sing. His voice grated on her. Still with that stupid nickname. Did he think a handful of forced collaborations made them friends?

She took a sip of the tea. It tasted… far from good, really. All too sweet, like trying to choke down raw honey, all too reminiscent of the Ahoneynation. The aftertaste coated her throat so strongly it nearly clogged it, making her feel almost as though she was choking on her own mucus membranes. How much honey had he added? She was all too familiar with other moths dumping too much sugar into any drink, but this…

She suppressed the urge to spit it back into the cup, taking care to keep herself from scrunching her muzzle. She couldn’t be seen starting a fight the day before her premiere, even if she was suspecting more and more that Arc had invited her with ulterior motives. She set it down after one drink, silently considering dumping it down the sink.

Arc watched, of course. Freak. She had half a mind to claw that smug look off his muzzle.

“I was thinking we could try something… special. For the anniversary, you know. I had some ideas, a few things that could help both of us out…” He waved a paw, almost dismissive- anniversary? What anniversary? Mothiva sifted through dates in her mind, half-confused-

He was talking about the damn talk show, wasn’t he?

Ugh. A full year, and he still hadn’t stopped being a thorn in her side. As if it was anything to celebrate- Mothiva had a show the day of, if she remembered correctly, so it wasn’t as though she had any time in the schedule, not unless he wanted to buy out half the tickets. She knew he wasn’t on the cast for it – she’d checked.

“I was thinking we could do something special.”

Well, he’d better spit it out, then. Mothiva was quickly running out of patience, and if he dragged this out any more, she wasn’t sure she could be held back from making headlines pasting his mangled corpse halfway across the Bee Kingdom’s doorstep. She opened her mouth, already fed-up, and-

paused.

Something felt- odd. Wrong. She tried to speak, but all that came out was a strangled noise, as if the sound had gotten caught in her throat. Her hand flew to her throat, and she glared at Arc – just what had he done? It took all too much effort for her to rasp out the question.

“What did you do?”

Arc blinked at her slowly- almost bemusedly. “Me? Oh, I didn’t do anything- something wrong, Mothi?”

“What-“ Mothiva’s throat closed up, and her rasping abruptly cut off into a coughing fit. This wasn’t normal, she knew what she could expect from her damn body, and this wasn’t-

“Something got your tongue?”

Oh, that motherfucker.

Mothiva growled at Arc, baring teeth that could sink into his throat and crack him open like an egg. He scoffed at her, taking a casual step to the side. “You’re not going to do shit. The second something suspicious happens in here, you know the reporters are going to start swarming in. Bugaria’s most famous idol attacking a competitor like a rabid weevil? The tabloids would eat that up.”

Mothiva grimaced at the thought, casting a glance at the shaded window. Arc fluffed his wings, looking all too self-important.

“That’s what I thought. Now, about that show…”

Mothiva watched as he paced around the table. She gripped its surface – a bit too tightly, maybe, but the alarming creak it made was far from the most important thing in her mind.

Arc looked all too smug, and she hated how she had to wait for him to open his stupid little muzzle before she could get answers.

“I heard you got a spot in the Domingo de Grilo. You know, right on our anniversary date. Pretty prestigious, don’t you think? Now, I was thinking it would be a nice treat for the fans if I-“

Mothiva snapped at him, lurching forward just enough to make him flinch. He took a moment to recover, before laughing, tapping her muzzle.

“See,” he said, “it would be a very good boost for my band, to get to perform at Domingo de Grilo. And performing with you might be just the PR stunt we need. Besides, it would be worse for you if you did attack me, because if you try and take me out, then you’ll never get the counteragent for the little trinket in your throat there.”

That little fucking rat.

He only seemed to grow more insufferably smug as she glared at him, fluffing her wings. “You see,” he said, “if I just leave that in there, it’ll take… a week? A couple months, maybe, to make sure we’ve got the deal sealed. Just a bit, then it’ll dissolve.”

“You see, I can counteract it, and free it right now. All it’ll take is you putting in a few good words for me, maybe coughing up a place or two in a show, and then…” Arc grinned, making a flourish with his claw. Mothiva growled, deep in her chest.

“Fuck you,” she forced out, the words ragged and torn to ribbons. She started coughing the second the words were out, the damn accursed seed in her throat doing nothing but worsening the issue.

“Then I’m afraid you’ll have to call in sick next Sunday. Such a pity, you know, coming down sick the day before a performance, good thing that there’s someone on hand willing to take the job for half the price-“

The table cracked under Mothiva’s claws, and Arc’s words cut off as he skittered back, fluffing up his stupid little ruff like a startled aphid. She growled at him as he tried to recover his bravado, giving out a nervous laugh.

“Yeah, that’s the kinda thing you want to keep out of the papers. If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you were scared. So, about those roles…”

Mothiva glowered at him as he propped himself up over the broken half of her kitchen table. She wasn’t giving him shit, no matter if he begged for it. She bared her teeth at him, not caring if anyone saw anymore. She wanted him dead and gone, she wanted to lose control and spatter his guts across her fucking living room, she wanted to split him in two just like the living room table, she-

She couldn’t do any of that. And both of them knew it.

He waited a beat longer, before picking himself up. “Fine, then. Have it your way. I’ll be in my room, if you change your mind. Don’t beg too hard, please. It’s embarrassing to both of us.”

Mothiva kept growling, as he walked out of the room. Fucking piece of shit of a bug, absolutely useless insect, the goddamn…

It took her nearly fifteen minutes before she finally managed to pull her claws from the chair and draw herself back up. Arc was already long gone – waiting for her to come back to his trailer, no doubt. With his drugs, and his stupid little voice, and the way he…

Venus, Mothiva felt like a fucking idiot.

Sure, she was a top idol. Top of her game, most popular in Bugaria, one of the most desirable bugs in the entire Ant Kingdom, if you took your cues from gossip rags – but she was well aware that her situation was… precarious. She swayed on her feet as she forced herself forwards.

She was all too aware she wasn’t exactly what her handlers wanted – she was close enough, maybe, but not quite it. She was meant to be soft, gentle, approachable, the kind of bug whose fluff could stuff a plush toy – and once she’d hit her first few instars, she didn’t fit the bill.

She was too broad to be approachable. Too thick of a jaw, too heavy a frame, too strong of a bite – moths were meant to be delicate and breakable, and she’d never broken quite right. Her fluff fell in a shock-absorbent mess the moment she’d started to grow in an upper coat, the way her bulk had shifted as she grew only just avoiding uncanny, her fangs too long to file down and too thick to hide.

Her colors were a dime a dozen the second you started looking at anything towards the Forsaken Lands, her markings the only real mark of an exotic bug – and of course, most bugs would never care about how odd a mutation topcoat silvering was. Her wings were centimeters too thick, more of a heavy-duty cloak than the sort of fuzzy-woven cape that was popular, her muzzle too short to pull off the sort of natural elegance that sold for more adult audiences, the webbing between her paws-

She tried to make herself better, of course. She curated her appearance, she groomed herself back into shape, she made herself fit the mold – but she wasn’t quite what they wanted, and both she and they knew that the moment she started losing popularity she’d have half a dozen younger, prettier bugs lined up to fill the gap.

If she didn’t stay at the top, her career was as good as over – and she more than knew how little it took, to be knocked down the ranks.

Receiving a gift from a rival, no matter how nice of one, was never to be trusted.. Especially not from a rival so close to her on the rankings, even if she knew their fans were watching them for any hint of a spark, even if she knew that any interactions had to be polite-

Once the public stopped watching, she should’ve had nothing to do with Arc, and it was only her own foolishness that brought her to here. With her stage persona, she’d be reduced to fluttering around him and chittering every time he said a slightly off-beat word. Stuck to being a perfect little doll against the damn punk persona he was allowed to cultivate for himself – she hated him, and it was only the thought of the repercussions that kept her from storming out to wring his neck.

She wasn’t about to let him reap the reward from drugging her damn tea, and if he thought otherwise, he had another thing coming.

He’d done something. She could feel it. It lodged in her throat, blocking off her trachea – that was fine. She didn’t need her head to breathe, and her spiracles were more than enough to keep her up and moving. She just needed something to get it loose – anything would do. She scoured the walls, opening every drawer she could get her claws on, and came up with nothing – just more useless hunks of sound equipment that wouldn’t help shit. She moved into the kitchen in half of a panic, hunting for something, anything-

Her eyes landed on the kitchen knife, the one she’d used to butcher the aphid just hours before.

…than could work.

Mothiva was under no illusions, as far as injury went. She knew that anything too visible could end her career – what couldn’t, really? She knew that anything too strong could cripple her, she knew a hit to the wrong spot could fuck up a limb forever, she knew any kind of pierced shell could easily end up a death sentence-

But Mothiva had always been all too resilient.

Adventuring, if anything, had only made her more aware with it. The edges of her wounds stuck together, gluing themselves beneath her fur in a way that made it remarkably hard to tell just where she’d been injured, once she’d cleaned up the blood and the horrible matting that always cropped up. Messy scars realigned, after a few weeks hidden under her fur, reopening the wound but neatening up some of the damage. She’d never gambled her voice before, of course, but-

If she did this right, she might even be able to get on stage next week without surrendering her position.

She picked the knife up, testing its edge. Sharp – easily sharp enough for this, even if it would be a trial to get it through her fur. She carefully aligned it with the lump in her throat, pulling aside loose fur and skin to feel for it, fluffing her wings as she felt cold metal press against her carapace.

She poised the knife above her throat.

No turning back now, she supposed.

Mothiva cut.

It was harder to work the knife through her fur than it was to work it through her throat. It was good and sharp – but that meant little, of course, against her dewlap, let alone her ruff. The blade ground, struggling to cut through fur denser than anything it was meant to handle, and she had to run it back through the wound more than once to make it stick.

She forced her other hand’s claws into the wound, making it stay open- it took more effort than she’d thought, and she had to strain just to make sure it stayed. Flesh would try and stick to flesh the second she stayed her hand, gluing itself firmly enough that she’d have to force the knife in for another pass. Thick, red hemolymph stained her paws, sticking to her fur, to her ruff, to her everything.

She just needed a bit more.

Mothiva fought a wave of dizziness as she cut deeper, slicing past layer and layer of flesh. It really was caught in deep. She’d known she had… more to her, than the average moth, of course, but it was something else entirely to see it, much less cut through it. The air smelled both coppery and oddly sweet, like nectar-drizzled ant’s armor, like…

Her claws closed shut on something, and the lump in her throat shifted.

There. There it was.

Mothiva dug her claws in, drawing it out. It was more of a struggle than she’d expected – the meat of her neck resisted the very concept of giving way, holding rigidly in place. She had to force it with both hands- she buried the knife in the countertop, dedicating her claws to the task. Everything seemed to waver, and she had to force herself from falling on her feet. It was a small thing, all things considered, tiny against her claws, hard to pick up without digging her claws in. Built in layers, like…

With a faint, gurgling chirp of triumph, Mothiva held the pearl out, watching the thick layer of blood over it shimmer. There, done. Without any of the fuss, even! She gave a triumphant hum, fluffed her wings, practically preening as she held it out. No more need to grovel to Arc, now! She coughed, fighting against the sway of dizziness as she gave a triumphant look to the blue and gold moth in the doorway, swallowing a mouthful of blood as she…

Mothiva collapsed to the floor, unconscious, and Leif scrabbled to catch her before she could crack her head against the tile.

[hello-paralyzed-world]

for @dreameratl

O: Aïssa, we gave you a time and you arrived 20 minutes late.

A: Ouleye, I wasn't in it yet. Wait, listen. Basically...

O: Hey, you are our guest. We invited you, we said be there at 6pm. Why are you here at 6:20?

A: We'll ask the wisdom.

G: To begin with, it was supposed to be at 5pm and then I receive "I can't be there at 5pm" from Ouleye. So I make arrangements, I send messages left and right to try to remedy this little problem and I shift it to 6pm. Now, at 5:40 pm, 45 I think, I receive a message "Nope, actually 6:10 pm". In the meantime, at 6pm I had Aïssa. She was there.

A: I think that at 45, I said to Griedge, "Griedge, is it still on at 6pm? She said, "Ouleye delayed again".

O: Hey, I was at the grocery store. I didn't have anything left at home, I had to go out and do some shopping.

A: Shopping at 6pm? That's when the day starts for you, you can go at 10am.

O: I left at 3:00pm, I did a lot of shopping. I'm good right now, I'm good.

G: During the lockdown you did what? Did you manage to maintain yourself, all that? Doing sports?

O: We tried. With the means, the club gave us some equipment so we had a program to follow so we did with what we could. What about you? You I saw, it was working hard Griedgeou.

G: No choice, for 2 weeks he sent us programs. In the morning he sent us videos, we had to do them. He was too invested. Even for him. He was so involved that I had to do it, get up and do it.

A: It was a good advertisement for their physical trainer. I saw, "crazy session @ I don't know what".

G: I think he must have gained some followers.

O: And you Aïssa? I also saw you putting little stories there on Insta.

G: Was it serious or was it fake?

A: You know me... No, really.

G: A little bit of a mix, right?

A: Honestly, at the beginning, I was really serious and the more I saw that it was starting to last, the more I saw that we were not going to play again, the harder it was to motivate myself. When I put on the videos, I was training, but when I didn't put anything on, that means I wasn't training.

G: After you, it's still okay, because the girls and everything motivated you.

O: Yeah, you were not alone.

A: That motivated me in fact.

G: But I think, now that it's over, that it went by quickly anyway.

O: Yeah me too, I swear, I was talking about it with Amy, we were saying it lasted 2 months... Do you remember in the selection when we were talking about the corona?

A: Ouleye, did I see in the future or not?

O: You saw something, I think you're a witch.

G: What did you say? "It's better to stop now, we're going on vacation now".

O: She said, we'll take a vacation for a month, and then we'll go back to the championship. That's what happened. You're scary. You're too scary.

A: Hey, it happened too fast and too weird. No, but at first we were just calling each other to keep each other busy! It was nice at first, and then I think we all got tired of it, we didn't even call each other anymore.

O: We wrote to each other from time to time.

G: Yeah, we'd write to each other, Snap and stuff, but...

A: At the beginning we were on Facetime all day long, over time yall annoyed me.

G: Because it was the time to get used to it! After that it was fine, ciao! Otherwise, what about the league Aïssa, how is it now? It's stopped right?

A: Yeah, they stopped it.

G: So, qualification? For the Champions League? That's you and Barça now? Barcelona champion.

A: Ouleye, she just wants to know who is champion, the rest...

O: Yeah I don't want anything else, I don't want to know anything else!

G: And you know that I didn't even know that? They announced it today, and actually two days ago I think people were sending me messages of congratulations. I didn't even know what they were talking about. I swear, I didn't even know what they were talking about. After I saw, with the socials, but otherwise...I didn't know!

A: Congratulations! I didn't know... For your 499th title of champion of France.

G: Always more with you!

O: You're a veteran, young but a legend.

A: She has the prize list of a 38 year old.

O: What time did you get up today? Did you have your session?

A: I had my session at 10:30. I got up at 10:00.

O: Oh, it was a group thing. That's why you got up! We know you.

A: It's a video session.

O: Oh yeah, with your club! Wallah, the whole team was there. If Aïssa hadn't been connected there...

G: But I think you can't even see it because there are so many people. After you they were going to spot you because you were the only black person I think.

A: I don't think all the screens are there. They can select.

G: Otherwise you log on, then you're like your camera doesn't work anymore. You mute the sound, you get back to sleep. You say "yeah I'm here", then you turn everything off.

A: Griedge, they don't give up, before they start they make sure everyone has their camera on.

G: Yeah but then, if your thing doesn't work... It's not your fault!

A: What? They'll take a break! One of us broke her camera, we waited for her, she came back!

O: They'll say take your iPad, take your phone. You can't dodge.

G: Well you say I don't!

A: I had a good technique. I was facing the light!

G: Back-light?

O: Oh I'm dead!

A: Fortunately they don't understand French. No, I'm kidding, I'm kidding.

O: Griedgeou, tell us a little about your confinement... About your singing, the zinga!

G: Actually, I was a guest on zinga TV. When I wanted, I went there and sang, you know? And Aïssa, she pushed me too much to go. She sent me messages, she harassed me.

A: Ouleye, it's a live singing. The guest, she has a beautiful voice. We can't leave her like that.

O: We can't leave her. Especially, we knew her voice.

G: Since Aïssa pushed me, I don't want to say force, because it would be abused. She pushed me to go and sing, so I went there, 2 or 3 times I think, 3, 4. It was a great experience.

O: But it was cool, I saw a live show, it was cool, we'll push you again. You have to go for it!

G: I think I'm going to sign there soon (joking).

A: Did you see what I sent you on Instagram?

G: Yes, I saw it! Ouleye, do you know what she sent me?

O: No, what else did she do?

G: She sent me a picture, basically it's Wati B, they charge about 30€ per hour for the studio I think.

O: Aïssa is a bit like your manager?

G: She thinks so!

A: It's not I think, that's for sure. I am! When we talk about music she is shy.

G: It's not in my comfort zone, you know? You talk to me about soccer, I'm not going to blush too much, I'm not going to be too ashamed, but It's a field that I don't know much about.

O: Yeah, but you have a really beautiful voice.

G: You know, there are a lot of people who have beautiful voices, and yet they don't necessarily break through.

O: Yeah, but don't worry, big manager, she'll do it right.

G: Audrey told me that Aïssa when she was young, she rapped. She was rapping, she released music and everything askip.

O: You didn't tell me that.

G: Listen, while I was on the live, I told her, Aïssa come and rap. She said to me "but leave me alone", ah you see when it's me how you annoy me and everything!

A: Because Griedge is good. You know me, when I was a kid, you're having fun with your friends. Everyone says "wah you're so good".

G: You could have sung a little something, I don't know.

O: Since the time we know each other, you have hidden that from me Aïssa. She's a hider! Go ahead, give us a little freestyle.

A: Oh yeah, you're crazy. Hey, in my life I never rapped, it's just rumors.

O: I've been told you dance anyway.

A: That's rumors too! I was dancing like I dance with you.

O: No, no, no, I was told you were dancing the gobi, all that.

A: How wrong!

G: I was told that you were well versed! I was told that you were a good dancer, they told me that you danced at the Gare du Nord, and all that. That you made battles, all that.

A: And how you lie.

G: Well, since we're talking about singing, I'll suggest a little game, it's called "Read my lips", I'm going to cut the sound and you have to guess the music I'm singing.

A: What is it about?

O: Oh dear, it's hard, isn't it? Oh yes, I found it! It's Aya, "Sucette".

G: Aïssa, I thought you would find it. Seeing as just before you said "Aïssa we know what you're going to sing", I didn't think you were going to sing that.

[they did one song each but i didn’t translate it]

O: Hey the sound that Griedge sang, you couldn't not recognize it.

A: Yeah big time. I actually didn't think it was going to be that.

O: All day long you sing it to us on Snap, how could you not recognize it?

G: All the time! You're boring us with it all the time.

A: Ouleye, I sing my part.

O: Yes but it's the same sound!

A: Yeah, I admit, I should have found it.

O: Well, we have to organize a vacation now, like every year.

G: Actually, I don't know if we'll be able to leave France.

O: She doesn't want to listen. No, you'll come and we'll go to the south. We'll take an Airbnb, all that.

A: Honestly, if we really can't get out of France, that's fine. But if we can get out of France...

O: But that's what we tell you but you'll see that we won't be able to leave. That's why we tell you, we're already anticipating the south, we don't organize ourselves at the last moment. Because we are the specialists.

G: In any case, we can't organize ourselves to win before the 27th, before we get the answer from UEFA. From then on, we'll have to get active, that's all. And be reactive, don't start being late.

A: Don't worry, when it comes to vacations I'm always reactive. If we're going to the south, we might as well go to Brittany, right?

G: Well, come to Brittany, there's no problem.

[storiesforallfandoms]

inspirational ~ corpse husband

word count: 1589

request?: yes!

“Hi! I was wondering if you could do a corpse husband imagine where the reader has a feeding tube? If you can’t that’s perfectly fine, I just haven’t been able to find one yet.”

description: in which the group plays with a popular streamer that has a feeding tube and corpse tells her how much she inspires him

pairing: corpse x female!reader

warnings: swearing, mentions of chronic pain and cancer, also i only know a little bit about feedings tubes, i tried to do research in order to make myself more familiar but if there’s a lot of inaccuracies or anything i am very sorry i’m gonna try my best

masterlist (one, two)

Corpse listened to his friends shouting at one another to accuse each other of being sus. As usual, there was no use in trying to get a word in. Corpse spoke so softly that no one would even hear him unless they wanted to hear what he was saying.

“(Y/N)!” Toast suddenly exclaimed. “You’re being very quiet right now.”

“Because my damn tube is mixed up in my headphone wires!” (Y/N) exclaimed, sounding like she was far away from her mic. The group chuckled and continued with their conversation about who they thought the imposter was.

(Y/N) was a known Twitch streamer and YouTuber that rose to popularity when she started a series on her YouTube channel to show her journey through cancer treatments. Long before his own sudden boom in popularity, Corpse had watched all of her videos and became invested in her Twitch streams as well. Being someone who also struggled with chronic illness and pain, Corpse felt a sense of hope watching (Y/N) go through her treatment and still seem to optimistic in life and so productive in her YouTube and Twitch channels.

When Toast messaged the Amigops group to ask if anyone wanted to join his Among Us lobby with (Y/N), Corpse jumped at the chance. He hadn’t had much time to speak with her alone, but he was hoping to be able to tell her how much watching her content lifted him up during his worst times.

The meeting ended with no one being voted and brought them back to the office of the Polus map. Since they were playing with proximity chat, the argument from the meeting immediately continued with Rae and Toast warning everyone to stay away from Sean, who they were susing at the second imposter after already voting out Charlie.

Corpse watched (Y/N)’s pink astronaut run out of the office, silent amongst the chaos. He waited a moment before deciding to follow her, hoping he could meet her somewhere alone so he could talk to her.

He ran into O2 and noticed a pink bean in the boiler room stood by the water wheels. He ran in and stood in the doorway a moment before speaking.

“Hello (Y/N).”

“Ah fuck!” (Y/N) exclaimed. “Corpse! Don’t scare me like that!”

Corpse chuckled. “Sorry, I’ll warn you next time.”

“Are you here to kill me?”

“Maybe.”

“I’m okay with that. I feel like being killed by Corpse Husband in Among Us is like a rite of passage at this point.”

Corpse slowly approached (Y/N) to which she quickly ran away from him to the other water wheel. He laughed again before assuring her, “I’m not an imposter, you can trust me.”

“I don’t think I can, but I will choose to trust,” she told him.

“I actually came looking for you because I wanted to talk to you.”

“What did you want to talk about?”

There were so many things running through Corpse’s mind. He just wanted to blurt out everything he had thought about (Y/N) and her story, to thank her for giving him hope, to tell her what an inspiration she was. But his words caught in his throat and he struggled to get anything out.

Finally, he said, “What’s it like trying to be a streamer with your...with the um...”

“The feeding tube?” (Y/N) finished for him. “You can say it, Corpse. It’s not exactly a secret.”

He sighed, glad that she had a joking tone about it. “Yeah, with the feeding tube.”

“It’s annoying,” (Y/N) admitted. “Like...I’m assuming you’ve seen my streams or my videos but for the sake of anyone watching your stream who hasn’t: I have a nasogastric feeding tube, or an NG-tube, which is a feeding tube that goes in through the nose. As cliché as it is, just picture Hazel Grace from the Fault in our Stars. Additional cliché, I have it because I had cancer and the treatments left me so malnourished that I need a feeding tube even after I’ve gone into remission. So, because it’s tubes that are connected in my nose, I keep getting my headphone wires tangled in my tube or, very rarely, my mic wires, and it’s fucking annoying. It hurts like a bitch when I go to stand up and I yank the wires  by accident or something.”

“Does...does anything else hurt? Because of the cancer or the treatment or anything?”

“Not as much as it used to. I went into remission like nearly a year ago, so I’m doing better. It’s a process, but it’s had an amazing outcome in the end so I wouldn’t change a thing.”

“I find you really inspirational,” Corpse finally blurted.

He felt his face heat up with slight embarrassment as (Y/N) giggled. “You do?”

“Yeah. I followed your series about your recovery and I’ve watched some of your livestreams every now and then. What always stood out to me was when you talked about the negative side effects of your treatment, and eventually having to put the feeding tube in and how you’ve found that effects you, too. Being someone with chronic illness and constant pain, I’ve also had those days where it feels like even getting out of bed is too much work and I don’t feel like I can stream or make a video, but then my anxiety tells me that everyone is going to forget about me if I don’t make some type of content, so it’s just an internal struggle when really I should be resting.”

“Being a content creator and having an illness is tough,” (Y/N) agreed. “It feels like you can’t take a day off. I sometimes regret making that series because on days that I felt absolutely awful, I didn’t want to film or edit anything, but I felt like I had to because so many people were watching. Ironically enough, that became the topic of one of those videos; I just sat in front of my camera looking the worst I think I’ve ever looked on camera and talked about how exhausted I felt just from being alive, but felt like I couldn’t rest because of my channel. That’s when I started taking longer breaks between videos and streaming. Your fans won’t leave you, not the true fans anyways. They’ll always be by your side even if you decide to disappear from the Internet forever.”

Corpse half smiled to himself. “I’ve thought about doing that sometimes.”

“It’ll be easy for you to do that where you’re faceless. No one would bother you even after you left the Internet cause they’d have no idea it was you unless you spoke.”

A brief pause in their conversation caused them to hear Sean yelling as he ran past the room. (Y/N) giggled and walked out of the room. Corpse followed, hoping to continue the conversation somewhere else.

“It means a lot to me that you think that about me, though,” (Y/N) continued as she ran into the storage room. “I find you pretty inspirational too.”

This took Corpse by surprise. He didn’t know how to respond. Sure, he heard that all the time from his fans, and it always meant the world to him to know that people found him to be an inspiration, but it felt different to hear that from someone he had looked up to for so long.

“I wish I could’ve been a faceless creator like you,” she said when Corpse didn’t respond. “One of my biggest regrets is probably showing my face online. Although, it wouldn’t make sense for me not to show my face when I’m making a series about cancer treatment, but people can be mean. Even when someone is struggling with illness or a disease, the Internet doesn’t care. Whatever makes them feel better over someone else feeling like shit.”

“I still get a lot of hateful messages even though I’m faceless, though.”

“You do, but you’re so unbothered by it. Publicly anyways. When I get messages about how sickly I look I get so overwhelmed with sadness and I just wanna delete my channel forever. I can’t even fake not caring because it really does effect me.”

“Stick with me, I’ll teach you my ways. My favorite is trolling the troll.”

(Y/N) chuckled. “I’d like that a lot.”

Corpse watched (Y/N)’s pink bean approach his black one. “I’m glad we had this chat, Corpse. It made me really happy, but now it also makes doing this a lot harder.”

Corpse gasped as a kill animation popped up on the screen and (Y/N)’s astronaut quickly disappeared into the nearby vent. He was stunned into silence for a long time, just watching his ghost floating above his dead body. To make matters worse, (Y/N) had closed the door to storage so no one would find his body unless they had to go in there.

Charlie’s ghost floated through the walls and came to float next to Corpse’s. “Figured out Jack wasn’t the other imposter, huh?”

“Yeah,” Corpse said, laughing. “She really had me fooled. Buttered me up with compliments then killed me.”

“I taught her well,” Charlie comments before floating away again.

Corpse couldn’t help but laugh about the situation. He wasn’t mad, more impressed than anything. And he was a little happy; he got to talk to someone that had always been an inspiration to him and he made a new friend.

[re8-drabbles]

Some RE: Village Relationship Headcanons?

The Duke

Saved you from a pack of lycans when you accidently strayed into the village.

Started off on the wrong foot.

Duke: Found yourself in a pinch, haven't you?

Y/N: Fuck off...

Duke: Now, now, if you would rather stay out here and continue to play with lycans and get yourself killed, be my guest... but, if you would rather survive... You'd best change your tone.

Y/N: ....

Duke: That's better.

He allowed you to stay in his cart until you healed, but started falling for you the moment he got to know you.

Duke: So you have just been wandering all over Europe in hopes of finding a cure?

Y/N: ...Yeah pretty much. I know, it's pretty stupid.

Duke: I wouldn't call it stupid, as much as adventurous. Is that why you found yourself in the village?

Y/N: Yeah... I wasn't planning on being greeted by lycans when I first set foot.... I never properly thanked you for saving me or apologized for how I reacted, I'm sorry about that.

Duke: It's all water under the bridge, love. I'm just glad I happened to be at the right place, at the right time.

Both came to conclusion after the heart to heart that you both were enamored with each other.

Duke: ....Would you be interested in being more then friends?

Y/N: I thought you would never ask.

Loves it when you slip under his arm, get comfortable at his side, and cuddle.

Loves it even more when you give him suprise hugs from the back when he's looking stressed or uncomfortable.

Finds it sweet, but ironic, how much you fret over him.

Y/N: "Are you sure you are not cold? The lycans do not bother you, do they? Are you feeling well? You are not hurt, are you?"

Duke: I'm perfectly fine, my dear. Now you, on the other hand, need to come inside. Your finger tips are turning blue.

Hates seeing you upset or scared, but loves how your first instinct is to grab and hold his hand.

Y/N: I am not scared! Your hands are just really warm...

Duke: Of course, love.

Secretly gets a little jealous when others flirt with you, but he'll never admit it to you.

Will also passive aggressively hike up the price of items for the individual who flirted.

Heisenberg: 900 Lei?! That's ridiculous!

Duke: These have been hard to come by lately.

He knows you believe that even the worst person can change, and he loves that about you, but it makes him sick with worry.

Y/N: Are you okay, love?

Duke: I'm fine, just a little tired. Could you do me a favour?

Y/N: Anything.

Duke: Please stay by my side? You are too important for me to lose, and this village is swimming with enemies you are not ready to take on.

Y/N: ... I don't want to be a burden.

Duke: You could never be a burden to me.

He will protect you from everything and anything.

Keeps a lot of books and hobby items on hand for you.

It melts his heart when you give him one of your rare smiles.

He hates how the Lord's like to call you his "pet", but allows it, if it keeps you safe from their wrath.

Heisenberg

First time you met, he had trapped you under Mother Miranda's orders.

Karl: Long way from home, aren't we?

Y/N ... I like your glasses, can I try them on?

Karl: Uh.... No.

Mother Miranda allowed him to do what he wanted with you, as she assessed that you were no threat.

He decided to keep you around.

He became enthralled by how bold and eccentric you are.

Realized he had fallen for you when he came back from a meeting with the Lords, and caught you wearing his clothes in the mirror mimicking him.

Karl: I should be mad... But you do a damn good impression and they look good on you.

Y/N: *surprised shriek*

Loves how you only show your soft side to him.

Sometimes, he is taken aback by your agressive side.

Karl: Did you just threaten to choke out that lycans with the disemboweled intestine of its friend?

Y/N: maybe.

Karl: I don't think they understand our language-

Y/N: Fear is a universal, Karl.

He loves watching you tinker away with the scraps in his factory and will sometimes animate your creations

He will do anything to protect the childlike wonder you have somehow managed to retain, regardless of everything that has happened

Adores the way you seem to know when he needs a little bit of physical connection.

Karl: How do you always seem to know when to do that?

Y/N: Hmm... Who knows?

When you are sick, he will track the Duke down and pay him double to get medicine from outside the village.

He will often run his fingers through your hair, as you fall asleep.

He will stay until he is sure you are asleep, before slipping out to his lab.

Dimitrescu

Was given charge of you, after Mother Miranda's experiment on you was a success.

She started off as your mentor, but quickly became fond of you.

Your passionate nature was what drew her to you.

Loves to tailor clothing for you and spoil you with the finest of silks and fabrics.

She loves to invest in your hobbies, especially painting. She will place completed works around the castle.

Being much older and taller than you, she feels the need to protect you from the horrors outside the castle walls.

Y/N: Alcina, I must do my rounds of the village. Mother Miranda will be furious if anything slips by.

Alcina: Nonsense! That fool Heisenberg can do the perimeter check. You still have much to learn before you can go outside, even more so before you can go alone.

Y/N: That's not fair to Heisenberg, Alcina. How much longer before I can go outside alone, anyways?

Alcina: Until you reach my age.

Y/N: So....

Alcina: Never.

Gets angry when Heisenberg or the Duke share too many sweet words with you. Heisenberg does it to annoy her and the Duke just enjoys pleasant and polite conversations, but it drives her mad.

Loves to steal kisses from you when you are working.

Y/N: Alcina, please, I'm almost done this portrait and then my attention is all yours.

Alcina: Hmmm, it is much more fun to pester you when you're working though.

Loves to use Bela, Cassandra, and Daniela to pry information from you.

Alcina: So... What did you learn girls?

Bela: Y/N feels a little ignored lately.

Daniela: Y/N is out of titanium white and cadmium red paint.

Cassandra: Y/N finds that the scenery is a bit bland and would love to grow some snowdrops.

Alcina: Ah, thank you girls.

Alcina is usually the first to engage intimate moments; hugs, kisses, touches, and more.

The rare moments you engage in intimacy are her favourites.

[vampiregirl1797]

The Starlight Stone

GIF not mine.

Rhysand x Reader

Word Count: 4,898

Summary: Y/N comes from a different reality, where the characters and world she’s now living in, exist in a series of books. Rhysand takes her in, and she learns how to do something she’s never managed before… live.

Warnings: Can’t think of any? If I’ve missed anything, let me know.

Masterlist Here :)

Falling in love with new characters was as easy as breathing for me. In fact it was so easy, that before I realised it, I was only falling for them. Reading became an escape for me, a teenage girl without a shred of self-confidence, used to being the overlooked one in a group of friends, used to not attracting any kind of male attention. It was perfect, because the men I fell in love with always loved me back, never hurt me with the crushing pain of rejection, never thought I wasn’t pretty enough, or skinny enough. They loved me for me.  

I just never imagined I’d wake up in one of the fictional world’s I’d read about, and come face to face with the High Lord I’d most recently falling for. I’d arrived several months ago, and of course hadn’t been able to keep a thing from the High Lord of the Night Court who’d found me trespassing on his lands. He’d gone into my head, not too far, but far enough to assess whether I was a threat to him or his people. He discovered pretty quickly that I had absolutely no skill set to be a threat, and that I absolutely was not from his world.  

He’d found the concept of Prynthian being presented in a series of books both interesting and amusing, as well as him and his friends existing as characters within the novels. I was just glad he hadn’t gone far enough to find how invested I got in each of the books I read, and those who existed within them, him being one of those people. It would have been mortifying and I had wondered on more than one occasion what his reaction would be. But coming face to face with a man who had been fictional to me, and then become real overnight… it had thrown me into my insecurities. Into taking my feelings for the High Lord and shoving them down as far as I could.  

‘Y/N?’ I was snapped out of my thoughts by Cassian popping his head into my room. Rhys had offered me a room at his town house when I first got here, and I’d never left. He’d offered the money to buy my own place, but I hadn’t been comfortable with the idea of that at the time, and now I had a place on his court, along with a wage of my own, but this had become my home.  

‘Hey Cass, what’s up?’ I smiled, patting the empty space beside me on the enormous bed; in my world I’d never had bigger than a single, and this was about three singles put together.  

‘Not much, I was gonna go into town for a little while, do you want to come with?’ His hazel eyes studied me with warmth and kindness, which was probably what had made me comfortable around him so quickly. He’d never looked at me with the disinterest I was used to being on the receiving end of from men; he saw me as a person and I appreciated him for it.

‘Sure. Anything in particular you’re after?’ I wondered letting my hair down from the messy bun I’d pulled it up onto when I’d come to relax in my room.  

He shrugged, trying and failing to be nonchalant, ‘not really. Just felt like getting out.’

I sighed, shuffling to the edge of the bed to slip on my boots, ‘Rhys sent you to check up on me didn’t he? Let me guess, he thinks I’m becoming a depressed recluse?’  

Cass gave me a look that was a mixture of concern and exasperation, ‘Rhys worries about you because you never leave the house. He doesn’t think you’re depressed, but he worries you’re not living either. You lose yourself in books, and you barely speak to anyone, even me.’  

I turned away, pretending to busy myself with lacing up my shoes to hide the tear that slid down my cheek. Rhys was more observant than I gave him credit for. The truth was, since I’d gotten here, I’d basically been living the same as I had before; reading, sleeping, eating and more reading. I ate meals with everyone sometimes, but more often than not, I allowed the new fictional worlds offered to me here to consume me. I’d never been called out on it before. No one had ever cared enough to notice that I wasn’t just reading because I loved it, I was reading to escape the life I didn’t know how to live.  

‘I-I’ I stuttered, forcing myself to stop and take a breath.

‘Hey,’ Cassian’s voice softened and he shuffled beside me on the bed to sling a muscular arm over my shoulder. My head went to his chest, not even trying to hold back my tears anymore, it seemed pointless when he could probably scent them anyway, ‘I didn’t say this to upset you, just to let you know that you’re family to us now, Y/N, and we care about you. We want you to live and enjoy life, not to fall solely in love with fictional places.’  

‘This place was just a fictional place to me once.’ I murmured quietly.

‘And now you get to be here, and still choose to read yourself to death.’ He teased, chuckling softly.  

I smiled, wiping away the moisture from my cheeks, because he was right. Rhys was right. I had been blessed with the opportunity to live in a reality I’d once yearned for with all my heart, and I’d been wasting it. Why? Because I was afraid to face the feelings I had for a certain High Lord, feelings that had only blossomed since coming here, despite my best efforts to avoid him. I’d been throwing myself into reading because I wanted to live in the fantasy that he would return my feelings for a little longer. But that had to stop. I wasn’t immortal here—at least I didn’t think so, I didn’t have Fae characteristics and I didn’t have any powers—and it was time to stop squandering my life being a scaredy cat.  

‘You’re right. Rhys is right.’ I moved away from Cassian’s chest, wiping all evidence of my tears away, ‘lets go into Velaris. I’ve always wanted to stroll through the City and take everything in. It looks so beautiful from up here.’  

Cassian grinned, and allowed me to pull him from the bed, and just like that we left the town house and were swallowed by the life of Velaris.  

Six Months Later

‘I don’t think so.’ I shook my head, levelling the Shadowsinger with a no-nonsense glare, ‘it’s the Winter Solstice, which is the first one I’m spending here, it’s basically Christmas, and it’s a family holiday. You’re not flying off to wherever the heck you’re planning to go, with only your shadows for company.’  

His hazel eyes were blank but he visibly stiffened. I sighed, realising that telling Azriel what he could and couldn’t do was not my place, and it definitely wasn’t the best approach.  

‘I’m sorry, I don’t mean to act like I’m your keeper or anything.’ I stood from the couch where I’d been sitting, to move to where he stood in front of the fire. I placed a hand on his shoulder, and relaxed a little when he didn’t shrug me off, ‘it’s just… this means something to me. Back in my old reality, we had Christmas, which was something similar. We’d all gather, exchange presents, decorate a tree, hang decorations… but what made it special to me was the time spent with the people I loved. With the people I considered family. You’re my family now, Azriel. You, Cass, Ameren, Mor… and Rhys. Obviously it’s your choice, but if you could afford to, please don’t leave until after the holiday.’  

I thought his eyes had softened at my words, but honestly it was hard to tell with the Shadowsinger. I left him alone to think over my words, kissing his cheek as I made my way outside; I still had some things left to buy for everyone. I’d gone a little overboard, but I couldn’t help it. I’d pretty much finished Mor and Ameren, I had a few last things to pick up for Cassian and Azriel, and the majority I’d left to buy were for Rhys. I already knew what I was going to get him, and most were already purchased and wrapped at each store, I’d just waited until now to get them, because while Rhys was trusted with everyone else’s presents… well giving him his own gifts just didn’t seem right. It might just have been me, but I felt like it took away the surprise, at least a little bit.  

I smiled as I walked through the city, nodding in greeting to a few friendly people. Since that talk Cassian had with me six months ago, I’d started venturing out of the townhouse more and more. I still read, but it was for the fun of it now, rather than the escape from reality. I’d fallen in love with Velaris. The city was beautiful, and teeming with life and acceptance and peace… seeing it first hand really made me appreciate the efforts Rhys and everyone had gone through to protect this place, to make it a home.  

‘Hey girl!’ Ameren’s voice had me looking to my right, to see her running across the cobblestone street to catch up to me, ‘you wouldn’t be out to purchase my Winter Solstice presents now would you?’ she grinned, her silver eyes sparkling with more life than usual.

I playfully rolled my eyes, ‘even if I was, I wouldn’t tell you. Your otherworld intimidation doesn’t work on me, Ren.’  

She huffed, but I could see the amusement swirling in her silver irises, ‘fine. It amazes me sometimes though,’ she mused, going on to explain, ‘Cassian cracked like an egg in two seconds, told me what he’d got me straight away. But you’re immune to what makes me scary to people around here.’  

I chuckled, being able to picture Cassian folding perfectly, ‘I wouldn’t say I’m the only one. And Cassian doesn’t prove anything, he’s like a big kid with this stuff. I’ve had to actually shush him to keep him from telling me about my presents, I think the excitement just gets to him. Now if you told me you’d broken Azriel, I’d be impressed.’  

She huffed a laugh and tilted her head in acknowledgement of my words, ‘yeah, you might be right. He didn’t only tell me what he’d gotten me, he told me about everyone else’s too.’  

I rolled my eyes affectionately, ‘that boy.’  

‘Indeed.’ She shook her head, but when she met my eyes again the wicked glint in them made me brace myself slightly, ‘so what are you getting our High Lord?’  

‘I’m on my way to pick up Rhys’ presents now. You can come with me if you want, so long as you don’t spoil anything.’ I gave her a pointed look and grinned at her offended look.  

‘I’m not the gossip Cassian is, thank you very much, girl,’ she waved her hand dismissively, ‘anyway, I was just wondering if you were finally going to gift him with the truth.’

‘Who?’ I frowned, pulling open the door to the blacksmith’s—I’d requested a few specific weapons for Azriel, Cassian and Rhys, each custom made and fit to them specifically, ‘what truth?’

She opened her mouth to reply, but was had to wait until the blacksmith had handed over the three weapons he’d perfectly made for me. Azriel and Cassian had plenty of swords and knives and daggers, but their abundance in bows and arrows was clear. I’d seen them practice with the same one, and I doubted they had any specific for battle, which seemed a waste when they could both fly. So I’d asked the blacksmith to create some custom for them, and both now had their own bow, plenty of arrows and a quiver. Their names were engraved inside the buttery leather of their quivers, and each were made to be lightweight and able to be worn whilst flying without losing any arrows.

For Rhys I’d asked for a pair of daggers to be crafted. I’d seen him with a couple of swords, and I was sure he already had daggers too, but picking this particular weapon had just felt right, even if I knew it was likely he possessed some already. Each was pure silver, one held an amethyst stone at the hilt, while the other held an onyx stone. One for his eyes, the other for his court.  

It was when we exited the shop that Ameren decided to resume her train of thought that I’d almost forgotten about, ‘the truth that you are in love with Rhys.’

It took a lot of effort not to stumble from shock, ‘what?’

‘Don’t play dumb. It’s obvious. Has been for months,’ she smirked, ‘we have bets on when you’re going to tell him. I have over the Solstice, so if you could do a girl a favour and tell him already, the winnings will be mine.’

‘Not to put a damper on your betting habits,’ I pulled her hand towards another shop I needed to go into, ‘but I’ve not got any “truth” to reveal to Rhys.’  

She swore under her breath, ‘I knew I should have had spring, but there’s me being the optimist thinking you would have grown some balls and realised what we’ve all already seen by now.’

I frowned, ‘what the hell are you talking about Ameren?’

‘Rhys loves you just as much as you love him. Actually knowing him, he probably loves you even more, but he’s as much of a coward as you.’ She rolled her eyes, tucking her onyx hair behind her ear as I accepted another bag full of pre-wrapped presents for Rhys.

‘You can’t be serious.’ I didn’t know what else to say… the idea of him feeling a fraction of the love I had for him made my heart pound in my chest. I couldn’t fathom it.

‘Honestly, you’re both blind.’ She shook her head, but let the subject drop, and I was glad. Talking any more might have launched me into a full-blown panic attack.

I’d admitted to myself that fallen in love with the High Lord three months ago—for a long time I’d fought it, convincing myself I was just in love with the fictional version of him. But that theory had gone down the toilet when he’d laughed—really laughed—at a joke Cassian made, and I’d been powerless to stop myself from being overwhelmed with happiness at his happiness. It was then I accepted I was an idiot in love with a man I’d never have. But Ameren saying he did feel the same, well it made me panic because I’d never considered it a possibility before—I’d never had a man interested in me before, and the idea of it, the unfamiliarity, made me panic. So I forced it down and made myself focus on collecting the rest of my gifts.  

//

The morning of Winter Solstice saw me rising bright and early, eager as a kid on Christmas morning. I realised that we wouldn’t be exchanging presents until the evening, after we’d all eaten, but I couldn’t tamper my excitement. So after I’d showered and dressed in leggings and a white woolly jumper, I headed to the living room to put the finishing touches on the decorations. Everything was basically done, but Rhys had found an eight-foot pine tree; I’d been telling him about the traditions of Christmas in my old reality, and he’d surprised me yesterday with a real tree. I’d hugged him tightly for it, unable to hold back my tears of gratitude at his thoughtfulness, and declared we’d have to decorate it tomorrow, after it had time to settle in the room overnight. A part of me wondered if he’d remember, but my doubt floated away upon the sight of him standing in the living room, observing the tree like he was sizing up an opponent on the battlefield. The thought made me chuckle, and he looked up to me with a smile.  

‘Good morning.’ I murmured, coming over to join him, ‘is there a reason you seem to be sizing up this poor, defenceless tree?’  

He grinned, his violet eyes sparkling with mirth, ‘well, other than the fact that it’s bigger than me and has an unfair advantage size-wise,’ I missed his soft smile as I laughed again, ‘I was simply wondering exactly how we’re going to decorate it.’

I softened with understanding, ‘well, lucky for you, I’m ridiculously prepared.’ I moved to pull out the box I’d stored behind the tree last night, after retrieving it from one of the shops in the art district. Magic was such a blessing here, and after I’d explained what I’d needed, and demonstrated with some awful drawings, they’d had everything made within a few hours. I pulled a few ornaments out, marvelling at the craftsmen’s ship for a moment before hanging them on the tree; there was a mixture of circular shapes and stars, in amethyst, silver, blue and black. They’d also crafted a silver star to go on top of the tree, fashioned after the star that always shone the brightest in the night sky of Velaris on the first night of Winter Solstice. It was so well made, I’d been struck speechless by how realistic it looked; as if they had plucked the star straight from the sky.  

I nudged the box closer to Rhys with my foot, ‘just hang them however you want, like this.’ I gestured to the few I’d put on and smiled when he reached in and immediately followed instructions.  

‘You know, if I used my magic I could have this done in under a minute.’ He commented, looking at me from the corner of his eye as if he knew my reaction before I voiced it.

‘Absolutely not! Decorating by hand is part of the fun, and the tradition.’ I protested, flicking his shoulder when I noticed his smirk, ‘if you use a flicker of magic, then there will be no presents for you.’

I frowned at the look of surprise in his eyes and he must have noticed my confusion because he said, his voice soft, ‘I didn’t think you’d gotten me anything. I didn’t mind, of course, I’m just surprised.’  

‘Why would you think that?’ I turned to face him fully, ignoring the task of decorating for the moment.

‘Because you didn’t give them to me to hide.’ He shrugged, carefully placing another ornament onto the tree, ‘and I never expect gifts, from anyone regardless. I went a long time being consumed by disappointment after my mother and sister died, because my father never cared for the holiday before. But after their deaths, it bore a reminder of another year of them being gone. Then he and I enacted our revenge, and it was a while before Morrigan, Cassian and I were able to spend the Solstice together.’  

I pulled him into a hug, winding my arms around his neck and not flinching at the appearance of his wings. They didn’t often appear without purpose unless he was feeling a strong emotion, but I didn’t question it when they cocooned us, his warmth radiating all around me.  

‘I didn’t give you any to hide because I felt like it took away from the surprise of the holiday if I was asking you to keep your own presents.’ I murmured into his neck, missing the small shiver that passed through him, ‘I’m sorry, that you had to spend so many Solstice’s alone, Rhys. But you have a family now, one that would sooner die than leave you.’

He held me a little tighter, and I returned the gesture, burrowing further into his neck and wondering if I was imagining the increased heartbeat I could feel against my chest, or if I were perhaps mistaking it for my own.

//

I smiled from my seat in the armchair, enjoying the warmth emanating from the fire, and from the mug of hot chocolate I held in my hands. We had just had Winter Solstice dinner, and were taking it in turns to open our presents.  

Ameren had gone first, and was grinning so wide it was almost scary at all of the jewels everyone had bought for her. Cassian had mostly been gifted weapons from everyone but Mor and me—she’d given him a sweater in the brightest green I’d ever seen, and I’d also gifted him some of his favourite liquor, a box of chocolates that Rhys had mentioned his mother got the General every year for solstice, some new books on war strategy, a new set of Illyrian leathers, and the bow and arrows I’d gotten him.

Azriel had also gained an abundance of weapons, along with a startlingly bright pair of purple socks from Mor, and some of his favourite liquor, a series of books on adventure and war I had a feeling he would enjoy, and a new set of Illyrian leathers and his new bow and arrows, from me. Mor had been given high quality clothing from everyone, and some of her favourite chocolates, wine, bath foams and salts from me. Rhys had been given a set of old leather bound books from Ameren, a Hawaiian themed shirt from Mor—mother knew where she found that—, what looked like a six-pack of beer from Cassian that had Rhys shaking his head with a reluctant smile, and a new set of Illyrian leathers from Azriel. I’d given him his new set of daggers, some of the chocolates Cassian had mentioned his mother and sister gifted him every Solstice, a painting that captured the beauty of Velaris perfectly, and something else I hadn’t yet presented to him.  

I’d actually left the other gift in his room, on his pillow; it was a pendant that had caught my eye when I was buying Ameren’s Solstice gifts. The shop attendant had noticed my stare and pulled it out from beneath the glass—it wasn’t overly huge; about the size of a bottle cap. It was antique silver, with a stone at the centre that was so beautiful I’d been unable to look away from it. It reminded me of the night sky, to put it plainly. It was so blue I thought it was sapphire, but the flashes of pure light that I saw when I turned it reminded me of shooting stars. The attendant had explained it was a pendant often presented to a perspective partner as a way of showing your intentions—as a way of showing your love for them. It was often the step before the mating bond sparked, to acknowledge what you already felt for them. She mentioned that it was an out dated tradition, and many only bought the Starlight stone now purely because it was beautiful.  

I didn’t know what possessed me to buy it. Maybe it was the possibility that he wouldn’t even know what it meant, maybe it was because a part of me wanted to tell him, and this was the only way I could muster the courage to do it. Either way, I’d left the small wrapped present on his black silk pillow before I’d joined the party tonight. And I’d had knots in my stomach about it since. A part of me wanted to excuse myself and take it back, but I forced that anxious part of my brain to shut up, because as much as it terrified me… I had to tell Rhys how I felt somehow, even if it meant that he didn’t feel the same way.

//

After the events of the evening, I decided to have a bath before I went to bed; Cassian and Azriel had passed out in the living room, one on the floor, the other on the sofa, but both were snoring loudly. Mor had made it to her room on the first floor, and Ameren had returned to her apartment. Rhys had said something about flying over the city before he turned in, and I was too awake with nerves to just slip straight into bed. So I ran some warm water into the gigantic tub that looked as if it would overflow onto the mountain below, and added some of my favourite bath foams that scented of lavender and honey—a gift from Az. I forced myself to breathe and just not think, and when my eyes started to droop I climbed out of the cooling water to dry off. I changed into the new silk gown Mor had gifted me for Solstice, and entered my bedroom only to stop short.  

My heart stopped at the sight of Rhys sitting on the edge of my bed… and then picked up triple speed. He was wearing loose pyjama pants, and no shirt… and he was holding the gift box I’d left on his pillow. The lid was missing and he was staring at the pendant inside. I took a deep breath and crossed my arms over my chest to hide how my hands shook.

‘Hey.’ I bit my lip, unsure about what to do. Should I sit next to him? Stay standing in front of the fire about three feet away from him? Ask him if he liked the gift? Ask him if he knew what it meant?  

His violet eyes lifted to meet mine, and I felt a wave of uncertainty wash over me at the guarded look in them, ‘do you know what this stone means?’ he asked, his voice quiet as he carefully held up the box, as if its contents were precious to him, ‘are you aware of the tradition that exists in Velaris? About what it means when someone presents this stone to another person?’

I took a deep breath, my heart pounding even faster now, and I was pretty sure I was starting to sweat. I wished I could read him better, wished I could know if he was hoping I knew, or hoping I didn’t. But he was a master of hiding his emotions, so I decided to go with the truth.

‘Yes, I know what it means.’ I admitted quietly, and knew if he didn’t have advanced hearing he wouldn’t have been able to make out the words; I could barely hear myself say them.

‘No, tell me. Tell me why you gave this to me.’ His eyes were still guarded, but his voice held a tinge of desperation, a tone I couldn’t resist from him.

‘I gave you that stone because the attendant at the jewellery store told me that the Starlight stone is what you give to a perspective partner, to acknowledge what you already feel for them, before the mating bond has sparked.’ I could feel the wariness on my face as he stood from the edge of the bed, stopping right in front of me.  

He tilted my chin up to meet his eyes with his index finger and whispered, ‘and what is it you feel for me, Y/N?’

‘I love you Rhys.’ I admitted softly, missing the way his eyes softened as my gaze fell to his lips.

His hand caressed my cheek, his thumb moving back and forth across my cheekbone. I was powerless to stop myself melting into his touch, and felt my eyes sheen with tears when I saw the affectionate look in his eyes. I watched as the dark mist of his magic swirled around the pendant, and lifted it from the box to secure it around his neck. My hand went to rest against his chest, where the pendant lay against his skin.

‘I love you too, Y/N darling.’ He murmured, wiping away the tears that fell silently down my cheeks.  

I vaguely heard the gift box fall to the floor, his free hand now landing on my hip and pulling me flush against his body. My arms wound around his neck, my fingers going to his silky soft hair as his mouth covered mine.

//

One Year Later

‘I’m just saying, Cassian is a great name for a tiny warrior.’ Cass grinned from the sofa, across from where Rhys and I sat in the love seat he’d bought for us about a year ago.  

‘Absolutely not.’ Rhys drawled, his hand gently moving back and forth across my swollen belly.

‘Do you have names picked out?’ Mor asked, her face holding the beaming expression that was always present when we were talking about the baby.

‘We do,’ I murmured, Rhys and I shared a secret smile at Mor’s squeal of excitement.  

‘We’re not revealing anything until the baby is born.’ Rhys grinned at the sounds of disapproval from his cousin and Cassian.  

‘You’re boring.’ The war General grumbled.

We all chuckled at his childish behaviour and I felt my expression soften with affection when Rhys leaned over to kiss my baby bump, murmuring words about how his uncle Cassian would always be the biggest baby in the family. Cassian grumbled louder, much to our amusement. My hand fell to Rhys hair, idly playing with the strands. He kissed my forehead and my eyes fluttered shut at the feeling of contentment that washed over me.  

Home. This was home.

[letarasstuff]

Making the Voice quieter

(A/N): This was requested by an anon. I hope you like it!

Summary: Spencer finds out about his daughter's eating disorder, he will he react?

Warnings: Angst, discription of an eating disorder (bulemia to be more specific), discription of (binge) eating, bad body image, self hatred, abuse of pills (diet pills)

Wordcount: 2.2k

✨Masterlist✨

______________________________

Prison. Cat. Diana. All those things happened close to each other. Luckily a few months have passed since then and slowly everything settles down. Spencer is able to get his feelings sorted through, processing the events.

Ever since his imprisonment he follows a more or less strict routine, given the uncertainty coming with his job. Spencer still tries to keep it up. So is every Friday dedicated to buying the majority of groceries and needed non food articles.

Sometimes (Y/N) tags along, other days she already has plans with her friends. Her father doesn’t mind it much, he is happy to see her socializing with people her age. The two of them have one father-daughter-night in the week anyways.

“Sweetheart, I’m heading out! Did you put everything you need on the list?” He shouts into the apartment. A faint “Yes! Love you!” echoes back to him. A smile forms on the doctor’s face. Oh how he longed to hear those words from her every night while he laid in his bed, locked up for a crime he didn’t commit. “Alright, love you, too!”

Meanwhile her father has to deal with Karens being their ignorant selfs, (Y/N) is under the biggest stress she has ever been. The end of her sophomore year and suddenly every teacher thinks it’s alright to give the students a load of work in every single class.

It’s beginning to get to her head. Four essays, three projects and studying for two tests and everything is due next week. She can see herself sitting at that very desk for the whole weekend, trying to contain control of her current situation.

As (Y/N) begins to read the page in front of her again to pull any information from it, it feels like her brain shuts down. Only one thought possesses her. One thing that can assure her, make her happy again.

Her body moves automatically, into the kitchen to the fridge. Her hands grab what they can. Puddings, yogurts, bananas, apples, last night’s dinner, everything that she can carry. Then the teenager sits down at the floor and devours everything she just got out. (Y/N) doesn’t stop until she gets to this intense feeling of being full.

It seems like she snaps out of a trance. Upon seeing what she ate in the shortest time, the girl feels even worse. Quickly she tries to destroy any kind of evidence, getting the trash out, making the fridge appear more full than it is, anything.

In her panicked state she remembers the small container of pills in her room. Relief washes over (Y/N), thinking everything will be better. She takes two of them for good measurement.

With the relief also guilt takes over. What just happened wasn’t normal. But (Y/N) tells herself that she can stop any time she wants. It’s not like she is sick or something, everything is fine. It’s just her way to copy stress. A way she discovered while her father was in prison. The diet pills help her to undo her mistakes. Someone from her friend group, who is already 18, got her them from the doctor for a fair price.

Feeling calmer now, the teenager sits back at her desk. A new perception of control helps her to continue her school work. She has to get done as much as possible, because in not even half an hour (Y/N)’s best friend will be the toilet.

Spencer is completely obvious to it. Sure, he is a profiler and he noticed his daughter’s new view on eating healthy food and working out. He just assumes that (Y/N) and her friends are on a healthy trip and he doesn’t see a problem in this. On the contrary, he is happy that she wants to be good to herself and her body.

But as the weeks go on, a suspicious feeling captures him. “(Y/N)? Why is the fridge nearly empty? We got groceries last Friday and it’s only Tuesday. Did you have a party over here while I was away on the case?” Spencer enters his daughter’s room, trying to joke about it.

(Y/N) freezes. Of course she isn’t able to say that the food went bad and she threw them away, her father is meticulous regarding this subject, always checking the best before day date. “Uhm, please don’t be mad. But Alex, you know her, the short one with red hair, uhm her parents are on a business trip and she is not the best cook. So I brought her lunch and dinner over. I’m sorry for not telling you.” She looks down at the floor, not only to feign sadness but also to avoid his eyes.

The second the teenager talks Spencer knows there is something fishy. Her voice is higher and she fidget with her hands. But he writes it off as being nervous for not telling him. Ever since he is out of prison, it feels like his daughter is withholding something.

“It’s fine, Sweetheart. Just give me a heads-up beforehand, so I know to buy more groceries. What do you think about ordering something tonight? I heard from Luke that a small Chinese restaurant opened a few streets down. We can celebrate the end of the stressful phase in Sophomore year.”

It seems like (Y/N) is calculating something in her head. Spencer knows exactly what she thinks about. “You can forget about your calorie intake for one night. I see how much time you invest in living healthy, but we can let loose for a night together. Just some noodles with chicken or spring rolls and us trying to use chopsticks and giving up after two minutes and resorting to forks. How does that sound?”

The teenager would love to sigh, but it would only alarm her father further. “Yeah, you are right. Let us let loose. But only if I can choose the movie we watch after dinner!” (Y/N) feels bad for eating unhealthy food again. Her last binge was only yesterday and usually she tries to consume lighter things. But she has to bite into the sour apple, else her father will be more suspicious. After all, she can just stop. (Y/N) promises herself to not think about her weight, her shape or the calories she will eat.

Well yeah, no. Just after the first noodle hits her tongue, intrusive thoughts take a seat in her mind, getting settled.

‘You already look like a potato.’

‘Are you sure this is the right thing to eat?’

‘Can you really stop?’

‘Dad is going to hate you when he finds out.’

All of them and more enter her head. (Y/N) is unable to shake them off. She is fine. She doesn’t have a problem. She just doesn’t feel like eating now, that’s fine, right?

“Uhm Dad. I’m full and really tired from the day. Is it ok if I go to bed? Maybe we can rain check on that movie?” The girl asks, feeling even worse for ditching her father. Usually it’s the other way around.

“Are you feeling ok? You look a little pale. Are you sick?” Spencer fires his question canone being the borderline helicopter father he always is. “Yes, just really exhausted from all the assignment and school work. A good night's rest and I will be good as new.” (Y/N) attempts a small smile, but fails miserably at it.

“Ok, sleep tight baby. I’ll put the leftovers in the fridge for you tomorrow.” Quickly she goes into her room. The thoughts in her head scream louder and louder with each step she takes. Can she really stop? Maybe she should come clean to her father.

‘And risking him hating you? Look at you, thinking you are sane is the only thing keeping him from abandoning you. How would you explain him keeping you otherwise? It’s definitely not for your looks.’

Later that night, (Y/N) hasn’t gotten a wink of sleep because of the voices, she makes her way back to the kitchen. In an attempt to distract herself, the teenager scrolled through her social media sites. There she was met by pictures of perfect people.

Perfect bodies. Perfect lives. Perfect smiles. Perfect family. Perfect friends. Everything about them is perfect.

And then there is her. Her body is unperfect. Her life is a mess. Her smile is not that of a model. Her family is just her, her father and the people he works with. Her friends aren’t always the best associates.

The stress of not feeling enough is getting to (Y/N)’s head. Like several times before that her body goes into auto. She doesn’t control her movements, though she tells herself all of this is willently.

Like so many times before the girl goes through the fridge and eats everything up she can get her fingers on. But this time one thing is different. Her father is at home. And he isn’t a heavy sleeper.

The movement in the kitchen wakes him up. Immediately his brain jumps to a burglar or even worse, an UnSub they once arrested coming after him. Quickly he gets his revolver and sneaks through the hallway to the source of the noises. As Spencer only sees his daughter sitting there, he instantly relaxes.

“Hey Sweetheart, what are you doing up? It’s a school night”, he softly asks in order to not scare her. Still, (Y/N) gets startled at the sudden voice.

“Uhm, nothing much. Just hungry. Probably because I didn’t eat dinner”, she explains, looking at her father like he caught her with her hand stuck in the cookie jar. Spencer watches her closely. “This is it? Because from what it looks like you not only ate your dinner but also tomorrow’s breakfast and right now lunch.”

(Y/N) swallows her bite, feeling that sinking reality in her stomach. The pills. She needs the pills fast before her body begins to digest the food. “Uhm, yeah. I probably should go to bed. I need my sleep. Just let me tidy up. Good night, Dad.” But he is quick to stop her.

“(Y/N), I want you to sit down. There is something we have to talk about.” Hesitantly (Y/N) takes a seat. “What is it Dad? Are you reprimanding me for eating? I thought you wanted me to let loose for a night.”

Spencer sits, leaning against the kitchen counter. “Baby, I want you to be alright. But I think you are not.” His eyes get a sad look. “I’m alright. I am fine, Dad. What do you think is wrong with me?”

“Look, (Y/N), I don’t need to be a profiler to see that you are struggling with something. Do you want to tell me about it?” Her answer is a tight lipped smile and a “I’m fine. There is nothing to talk about.”

The father sighs. She is not leaving him much of a choice. “And what about them?” Spencer asks after getting something from the highest shelf in the kitchen, the one (Y/N) barely reaches by stepping on a stool. He sets a little container down on the table.

“Dad I-” “No (Y/N). You don’t need to explain anything. It’s my turn to talk. I found those in your room yesterday while I was looking for a book. At first I thought nothing of it, I mean you are trying to live healthy, so I thought this is part of the process. But then I saw that they have to be prescribed and I know that these aren’t yours.

“I wanted to talk about it with you anyway. But now I know that I caught you binge eating and I see all the signs. I see them and I’m sorry for not acting sooner. (Y/N), you need help and I’m here for you. I know the last few months were especially hard on you. I can’t change what was and what happened, but I will be here for you now." Tears stream down on boths their faces.

(Y/N) is stammering for words. “I-I am fine. I can stop anytime I want. Th-this was a conscious d-decision.” Her father envelops her in a hug, cradling her head to his chest. She begins to sob.

“I know, Sweetheart. It’s hard and it won’t get easier from here on, but I’m here. You know you can’t stop, it’s only an illusion your eating disorder wants you to believe. But we get through it together. You, I and the team if you want to. We take it at your pace.” By now the two are crying loudly.

“I want it to stop, Dad. Please make the voice go away.”

He can’t make it go away. No one can. But Spencer helps to quiet it. Together they tackle the disorder, through the good and the bad times. He takes off from work for a time and (Y/N) out of school for a few weeks to be able to work on it together, to make the voice quieter and her life better.

Taglist:

All works:

@dindjarinsspouse

Criminal Minds:

@averyhotchner @mggsprettygirl @herecomesthewriterwitch @ash19871962

[heavenbarnes]

nothing to lose

Bucky Barnes x Female Reader (18+)

Warnings/Contains: swearing, semi!sub bucky, alcohol mention, stripping (male), oral sex (f!receiving), unprotected sex (please use a condom), spanking, dirty talk

Word Count: 3.5k

I’m trying to get back into writing, believe you me, so please appreciate these lil breadcrumbs I’ll try to keep dropping! In the meantime, I love you all x

Bucky had a way about him when he wanted something from you. He had a turn up in comfy clothes, wine bottle in hand way about him. It was a way that you saw right through, but a way nonetheless. The tricky part was deciphering what he wanted.

Now Bucky wanted a lot of things, he wanted a holiday somewhere warm, he wanted to see Phoebe Cates in Fast Times for the first time again, and he wanted...

How do you put it? He wanted...

You opened the front door to him, in his sweatpants and half-up hair glory, a buttery Chardonnay in his right hand. You immediately shot him a look that either asked “what have you done?” or “what do you need?” Objecting that it was just a friendly house call, he came inside and that’s where you ended up.

Curling in the corner of your couch, knees bent in front of you as your cheeks kept a steady warmth fed by the wine. Bucky sat in front of you, legs spread and taking up room, hands gesturing as he continued his story about a time you’d never understand.

“Wait, you just let this slide?” You questioned, shooting him a puzzled glance.

“You have to remember this is the forties,” He jumped up a bit. “Anyways so!”

Forgetting this meant he had an ulterior motive, you melted into the cushions and into his voice as he kept you giggling as the hours passed. It wasn’t until he spouted stupid ideas like truth or dare that you bit back at him, bringing it round to the beginning.

“Fine, fine, pick truth!” He was in the midst of reminding you that wasn’t how the game went but you managed to have him concede with a grumble of “okay, I pick truth.”

“Why did you come here tonight with the ingredients to butter me up?”

His mouth dropped in surprise, a faux surprise that reminded you Bucky had never really been good at lying. Through stutters he got out his words, “I’ve no idea what you mean!”

“Wine, lush stories from before my time, looking lovely and cuddly?”

“You think I look lovely-“

“Bucky!”

He sighed, leaning forward and taking your glass (much to your protest) and placing it with his on the coffee table. He turned back to you, hands bracing your knees at the bend and looking into your eyes. Whatever he wanted, he wanted it bad, and he was going to make your life hell till he got it.

“Now, you’ve got to promise not to shoot this out of the sky like always!”

And there it was, what you knew in the back of your mind he was here to ask for. The same thing he always asked for when it got late and he got needy and wine dropped your reserves. The cheek of him, huh?

“James Buchanan “Bucky” Barnes,” The government name flew off your lips as you stared back at him. “Tell me you did not come all this way to ask for some pussy.”

He wasn’t sure which winded him quicker, the full name and the way it sounded coming off your lips in such a clipped tone, or the fact you said pussy and he needed to hear you say it about a hundred more times. He quickly cleared his mind, getting back to the subject at hand, the one he was determined on.

“Don’t make me sound like a bitch, honey,” he grumbled. “You make me sound like I can’t get any!”

“You can get any, you could walk out onto my street and find any number of people that’d be willing to give it up to you!”

His eyelids dropped, scooting further towards you and gripping your knees harder. It was his turn to call you by your full name, sounding unfairly delicious coming from him. “You know I don’t want just anyone.”

“You know that this,” you flicked your hand back and forth between you two. “This would be detrimental, we work together, we see each other every day.”

“And that is the killer! I see you walking around and kicking ass and looking like everything I ever dreamed of, and I can’t do a damn thing about it.”

You couldn’t help the way your lip rose in a smirk. You knew that Bucky had felt this way about you ever since you helped Sam and Steve track him down. He saw you catch a bullet midair and throw it back, he knew from then he was fucked.

“By the way,” he tacked on the end. “I didn’t come all this way to beg for pussy, I actually enjoy your company and I knew you’d enjoy mine.”

Raising your brows in a “oh, is that right?”, you nodded slowly as your hands came to rest on top of his. “Now, I never said beg, but if that’s what you want to do then maybe we’re talking.”

Bucky’s eyes had fallen out of the early onset of embarrassment, but your words had perked them right up again. He dropped a brow and raised one, urging you to go on. The corners of your lips picked up as everything ticked over in your brain.

Let’s check all the cards on the table, Bucky was unexplainably beautiful, not just in his god-like features but he was right when he said you enjoyed his company. Every time you caught his eyes holding your figure too long, it ignited that little flame burning in you. Lying and hypocrisy weren’t a good look, so there was no use denying that he wasn’t on your mind on lonely nights with only your fingers for company.

“If you want it as bad as you say you do, are you going to work for it?”

Bucky turned closer towards you as you spoke, almost as if he’s unsure of what he was hearing. Your expression gave him a hurry up, until he was clearing his throat. “Of course, yeah of course.”

You brought one of your feet back, pressing the ball of it against Bucky’s thigh and pushing him gently. He quickly got the message and shifted down a bit. Extending your leg, you were able to lay your foot against the crotch of his pants. His eyes moved from his lap before shooting back to you.

“You’ll do whatever I say? You’ll be good and give me what I want?” Pressing your foot down gently, you began to rub it against him as you spoke.

Bucky’s breath caught right in his throat, right hand coming to gently grasp your ankle as you worked against him. “That’s always been it, whatever you want from me, you can have.”

And he had to have been telling the truth, the way you could feel him hardening under the ball of your foot was no lie. Bucky’s head fell back to rest against the top of the couch, eyes closing gently and mouth slightly parting as his fingers drifted up to massage your leg.

His hips stuttered ever so slightly, only the smallest bit and you could’ve missed it if you weren’t so invested with how delicious he looked just then. He was getting harder by the second, pants tightening as you saw the outline of him showing prominently in font of you.

Of course he had a huge dick, of course.

“You want pussy?” You hummed, sliding your foot back and tucking your legs to the side. “You want to eat mine?”

His eyes lit up like he’d been given the world, tongue dipping out against his lower lip and nodding slowly. You turned to place your feet on the floor, beckoning him up and in front of you with one finger. Your mouth curled into an obviously devious smile.

“Strip.”

Bucky was never and will never be a stupid man, he was not impartial to light embarrassment to get what he wants (in fact, it sometimes made him hard). To be honest, you could’ve told Bucky to get starkers on the balcony with the city watching and he would’ve done it, provided he got you in the end.

So there was no qualms and he was pushing off of your knee and stepping into the space between your thighs. Pulling the band from his hair, the strands fell into his face before he brushed them back with a wide span of his hand.

His shirt was the next to go, landing behind him and taught muscles on display. Only natural that your lower lip got tugged between your teeth, until Bucky lent forward and took it between his fingers. He kept leaning in, running his thumb down your lower lip until you were pouting for him.

He was moments away from you, to the point where you each could feel the breath of the other ghosting across your skin. He bridged the infinitesimal gap between you both and lay his lips on yours, tongue immediately finding its way past your teeth.

Of course he was a great kisser, of course.

You fought your inner monologue just enough to place your palms flat on Bucky’s chest and push him back to standing height. “I wanna’ see the rest.”

And he could never deny that girlish smile, whether you were asking him to bring you a drink or rub your back or fetch something off the top shelf. So the way his fingers undid the tie of his sweats, poking into the waistband to draw them down his hearty thighs, told nothing different.

Your teeth gritted together, corners of your mouth dying to quirk up and give yourself away. He just looked so good. Those black briefs were straining, the outline was right there, you almost had it but you held it back.

You wanted to see Bucky on his best behavior.

Rolling the band of his boxers down, your breath caught in your chest. It was a slow descent into insanity as he drew it out and drew it out. You knew it had nothing to do with nerves, everything to do with making you suffer the same way he had. 

But soon, they too hit the floor. This time you were pouting without his help.

This man was from another planet, he had to be. He was cut from a cloth that was woven at the hands of God’s and never to be replicated. All that and he was standing in your living room ready to do whatever you asked.

“Good boy.”

You tried your luck and to your reward, Bucky’s eyes lit up like Roman candles (think church, not fireworks), knees buckling slightly in the twinge of excitement that coursed around him and kissed his skin.

He took his own lead, stepping towards you and tucking his fingers around your bottoms to draw them off. You let him, no use arguing when he was doing exactly what you wanted without even having to say it. You even want as far as lifting your hips for him so he could toss your clothes to land with his.

Bucky’s knees hit the floor in front of you, shuffling in and hooking his arms under your thighs, resting them over his shoulders. His eyes were firmly fixed on where you were softest, wettest, where his mind would always wander on cold nights.

He gently flickered his gaze to you, a look that asked permission.

“Go ‘head.”

And his lips were deathly soft against your thighs, and he could say the same about your skin. He could smell you, so close and so mouthwatering that he was conjuring all his untapped strength to not go wild right at the moment.

Bucky had to remind himself he was a good boy.

Lips coasting their way closer he very gently pressed a kiss to your clit, tongue dipping to roll against it as he sucked in the same motion. Immediately a shiver ran the length of your body, thighs tensing against his shoulders.

Buck’s fingers grasped the muscle of your thighs, massaging to loosen them as his mouth continued to work against you. Your hips rolled against his face, back raising off the couch the mouth his lips suckled your sensitive skin.

The back of your brain was yelling at you, asking why you’d taken this long to let him feel this good kneeling at your feet. Part of it was the fun, the thrill of the chase? Watch him squirm a little bit.

Stubble grazed against you with every minuscule motion he made, the tender burn only heightening your sense. You felt your body chase him, still raising off the couch to follow wherever he went.

You watched the movement of his right arm, slow and steady as your eyes followed it down to the wrist. Fingers grasping his length as he only slightly twisted his grasp around it, hips gently cantering into his own touch.

“God damn, Bucky.” You cooed, hand threaded through his hair and tugging slightly.

He only hummed, a rumble that fed straight into you and the way your legs were closing around his head. His tongue still flittered across you, forcing your eyes shut and incoherent cries to fly off your tongue.

And when your orgasm finally hit you, you were trying your hardest to pull back, but that grip he had on you was locked steady. His mouth was pressed to you, determined to work you through the tide of pressure that was breaking over you.

Your eyes rolling back, heels digging into his shoulder blades, his name becoming the only cry you could remember. He pulled back, chin glistening and hand still steadily tugging at himself, smile reflecting your own hazy expression.

“I was thinking,” You started, leaning forward to tuck some hair behind his ear. “I haven’t heard a lot of begging from you.”

Bucky’s eyes widened, head leaning into your touch just slightly as the hand pleasuring himself stopped altogether. He stayed quiet, the realisation dawning on him that he’d managed a pretty sweet run.

Pulling your hand back, you stood from your spot on the couch and headed for your bedroom. You could hear Bucky shuffling behind you, clambering to his feet and following.

“Wait, wait-“

“You’ve just taken whatever you wanted.”

“But you said to go ahead-“

“Not the point, Barnes, I wanted to hear you beg.”

As you pulled your top over your head and tossed it behind you, he followed it like breadcrumbs until he snuck into your room behind you. Barely acknowledging his presence, you situated yourself against the pillows, cocking your head in his direction.

“Baby, you could just be kind and I could wreck that pretty lil’ pussy.”

Raising an eyebrow, your head recoiled as if questioning his seriousness right now. He realized that wouldn’t slide before he got onto the end of the bed, sitting back on his knees.

Palms pressed flat against his thighs, cock still hard as ever, he drew in a deep breath.

“Can I please fuck you?”

Sighing, you drew yours knees up and kept your legs pressed together, seemingly lying in wait.

“You look so fucking good, taste like heaven, like everything I’ve ever wanted.”

Drawing your finger tips against your chest gently, you listened to what more he could conjure up. His eyes narrowed, the situation ticking over in his head. Raising up he moved up the bed until his hands were on your knees, grasping them before pulling them to the side enough for him to slot between.

“Every night, all I can think about is how I need to bury myself in this hot little cunt, bury you into the mattress as you’re crying my name. Every time I see this tight ass bounce past me I just thinking about splitting it open until you’re seeing stars,”

He lent further into you, nearly nose to nose until it was your turn to go bug eyed.

“You’re fucking mean, you’re nasty and you love to torture me cause you know there isn’t a damn thing I wouldn’t do to have you in my lap with your legs wrapped around me. Almost sad part is, I fucking love it, I love being teased by you and I love chasing your damn tail because I know there isn’t anyone else that’d let me do the fucking things I want to do to you.”

His hands left your knees as they came to cup your jaw, drawing you in until his lips nearly touched yours.

“So, for the love of all that is holy, let me flip you over and split you in two.”

Surging forward you locked your lips onto his and drove your tongue into his mouth, making as much purchase as you could. It was filthy, messy and spit slicked and teeth nearly clashing but it was you getting what you want.

“It’s about fucking time you grew a pair.”

“Oh, fuck you-“

Forgoing the tail end of his remark, he wrapped his arms beneath you and pulled you forward and against his chest. Mouths back and messily working together, you fought your way out of his grasp until you were straddling him.

“But you do look so good under me.”

His hand shot up to crack against your ass, sending you forward where he quickly wrestled you into swapping places. Getting you on your front and pulling your hips back until you were arched, his much smoother movements of heavy petting your backside were welcomed.

Keening into him, shaking your ass just a little to get what you want, he grasped both cheeks and spread them. You must’ve looked a sight, still wet from his mouth and just about everything else you two had done, you felt a metal finger running along the length of you.

But part of him didn’t want to wait a second longer as you felt the bed dip with him raising back up to lay his length down the split of your cheeks. Coating it nicely with your slick, you could feel it prodding against you.

As he slid himself in, his chest came to lean against your back, nestling himself within you and getting used to the snug fit.

“Fuckin’ tight, fuckin’ perfect, all mine.”

He listened for your shaky exhale before he drew back, hips lined up and slamming back into you as your arms gave out. Cheek pressed into the blankets and arms out ahead of you gripping onto whatever you could find purchase in.

Bucky found his rhythm, rolling his hips eagerly into you, sounds of skin blending with the pathetic moans he was wickedly good at forcing from you. His grip on you and the way he was living up to his word of fucking you into the mattress, your mouth was dropped open.

It was like he’d fucked all sense out of you, until incoherent little moans about “how good he felt” and “how big he was” were the only things that were swilling about in your brain. You felt remarkably proud of how long you’d kept together the facade of being in control.

“That feel good, baby? Glad you finally let me fuck you like you deserve?”

More senses of agreement tumbled out of you as you gripped the bed and gripped around him, rolling your hips back onto him to try and match his movements. One of his hands splayed between your shoulder blades while the other lay against your ass.

“So fucking mean, but I fucking love it.”

His hand came back and struck down against your ass with a delicious sting, a cry of his name sounding out of you. He massaged over the area, before slipping his hand down to rub against your clit.

“I always knew you wanted to give in,” His chest huffed as he kept powering into you. “But I liked the little game, naughty girl.”

This time has hand drew back and delivered a slap against your clit, your legs shaking against him he pushed you straight towards your end. You felt your lower half clamp right around him, your body tensing up.

“That’s a good girl, fucking come for me.”

Bucky was a good boy, but you were even better.

Doing as told, you felt your whole body come apart as you slumped forward, shaking slightly as Bucky never let up with his thrusts or his fingers. You felt the wetness against your thighs, knowing he’d well and truly fucked it out of you.

His grip on your waist tightened as he pulled you back into him and rolled his hips against you. Impossibly deep and nearly bulging out your belly, Bucky stayed deep inside you as his hips stuttered.

He held you still as he came, raw moans flooded your ears like a choir as you felt a dumbstruck smile make its way across your face. Feeling the weight of him sink onto you as you both collapsed into the bed.

Resting against his chest, tucked into your pillows, you felt him tracing patterns into your back. You tilted your head up, looking towards him with a smile.

“Hey, Bucky?”

“Hmm?”

“Thanks for coming all this way to beg for pussy.”

“Don’t fucking ruin the moment, beloved.”

[darling-i-read-it]

Jealousy

Will Graham x reader, slight Hannibal Lecter x reader

Word Count: 2.2k 

Warnings: talks of murder, corpses, crime scenes 

Author’s Note: besties you need to stop giving me freedom to chose the endings because i am SO biased. I hope you all enjoy regardless and didn’t mind that I bunched these two requests together because they’re so similar! 

Requested: by anon, Hey i don’t know if you’re still taking Hannibal requests but if you are can you do something where both Will and Hannibal have a crush on the reader? The reader would be the only one who doesn’t know about the two men having a crush on her and one day the reader hangs out alone with one of them (could be Will or Hannibal) and the other gets jealous? It could end in the reader choosing one of them. (your choice)

Requested: by anon, AHHH i’m so nervous to write a request even tho this a anon😅 I never done a request but if you could do something where both Hannibal and Will take an interest in the reader? It could just be a thing where both of them try to impress the reader who remains oblivious to their affections. And during the entire thing they get jealous of each other and try to one up each other in gifts. If you want you could end it with them being polyamorous or the reader choosing one of them, i don’t really care my main focus id just the jealousy lol😅

Summary: the requests! 

I don’t own these characters. They belong to author/director/creator

(not my gif)

You nodded gently, putting your fingernail between your teeth. You circled the corpse, giving it a careful eye as Beverly spoke over your thoughts. 

“We believe it was murder, obviously,” she said. 

“It’s just been a bitch trying to figure out how she was murdered,” Zeller commented. He was sitting on one of the stools, his hands resting on his thighs. 

“Keep working on it,” Jack said, hand resting on the cold metal table. 

“I think we should try and talk to the mom again. I feel like she knows more than she’s letting on,” you muttered. Will and Hannibal watched you as you moved to the head of the body, looking directly down at it. 

“I want to go to the crime scene again,” Will said. You looked up and met his eyes, nodding a bit. You knew the toll that it took on him so you preferred him to offer up his abilities, rather than ask him. 

“Are you sure you’re up for that?” Hannibal asked. Yours and Will’s eyes floated to Hannibal who was standing at the corner of the room. This wasn’t his crime, he wasn’t sure what Will would find. 

“I’m sure,” Will said sturtly and then turned around, walking out of the room. Hannibal watched as your gaze followed Will until he was out of sight and then you turned back to the corpse. 

“I’ll drive you to the mothers house,” Hannibal suggested. You nodded and took your hands off the metal, walking over to him.

“Thank you.” 

The two of you left quickly after that, leaving Bev, Zeller, Price and Jack in the room alone. Beverly pretended to check something on her clipboard before looking up at everyone.

“You all felt that tension too, right?” Overlapped responses came.

“Yeah.”

“Yes.” 

“When did that happen?” 

Beverly shrugged and learned against the wall. She tried to follow you and Hannibal as you left the morgue but you were already long gone.

“Who do you think she’s gonna pick?” Bev asked. 

“I say let the best man win!” Price commented. 

“We have a case here lady and gentlemen,” Jack said, pretending he too wasn’t invested. Everyone else shared one more look and then turned around, getting back to their duties. 

=====

Hannibal sat promptly in his chair, legs crossed and looking at Will who sat across from him. Will had an open stance as he looked around the room he had been in a couple of times before. 

“How was your week? Let’s start there,” Hannibal said gently, prompting Will to start talking. Will was usually filled to the brim with sarcastic comments but he never wanted to delve any deeper than that. Unless he was talking about other people's murders. 

“Um, it was fine,” he said, trying to figure out what to say. “Y/N came over last night and made dinner. It was nice to have someone over.” Hannibal was able to mask his feelings very well but Will caught a little bit of disdain. 

“That’s nice. Do you see her often?” 

“Sometimes. She’s nice and likes to see the dogs.” Hannibal saw you yesterday as well, when the two of you went to interview the mother again. Hannibal offered a nice face to the woman and it ended up getting you somewhere with her. 

“She is very kind,” Hannibal commented. 

“Do you see her often Dr. Lecter?” Will asked. 

“On occasion. She comes over for dinner. She used to be a patient but she’s been doing well.”

“Glad to hear you have some success stories.” 

That was the day that Will and Hannibal realized they were competing and they hadn’t known it. They weren’t even sure that you knew it but they understood that the other had feelings for you. 

Sure, ultimately it was up to you in the end but it was then they decided they would have to get to you first. Will was a little unhinged and confused. Hannibal was a little insane and unsettling. 

Just depended on who was going to be able to play the right cards. 

=====

You sat beside Hanniabl at his dinner table. You had a few of the case papers out in front of you, next to your plate of food. Hannibal was flipping through them as well. He was trying to help you out while also getting you to enjoy a nice meal. 

You ate the last bite of the food and showed Hannibal one of the pictures. 

“Do you think this looks like she’s been dead for a couple of months? I know water can wash away evidence and stuff but it definitely doesn’t look like she’s been dead for months,” you said. Hannibal took the picture from you and looked it over. 

“I can’t say I disagree with you.” You took the picture back.

“This is really good by the way. Thank you for letting me intrude on your dinner,” you said laughing a bit. He shook his head. 

“Of course. I’m glad you enjoy it, I know it can be an acquired taste.” 

“I really enjoy everything you make. How do you say it? It’s growing my pallet,” you said smiling. He nodded pleasantly. It was always nice to make sure people were listening. You looked like you were about to say something else when your phone dinged. At first you ignored it but then it dinged again. “I’m sorry,” you muttered and then picked up the phone. You read a couple of messages and laughter bubbled from your mouth. Hannibal immediately felt a stab of jealousy but it didn’t show on his face. “Sorry, Will just sent me something about the case. I actually have to go see him later tonight, I should probably get out of your hair.” 

Hannibal shook his head. 

“You’re always welcome here, I hope you know that.” You smiled and nodded but still put the papers together in a neat stack.

“Don’t say that, I’ll abuse my privileges.” You stood up and put the stack of papers in your arms. “Thank you again Hannibal. I’ll call you?” He nodded, standing up as well and taking your plate. 

“Of course. Have a nice night and say hello to Will for me.” You nodded and waved as you turned to leave. 

Hannibal turned to the kitchen and put the dishes in the sink. He started to wash them and after a moment he found he had been washing his hands dry. 

====

“You really didn’t have to drive me. I can drive myself,” Will said from the passenger seat of your car. You waved him off, shaking your head. 

“Please Will, I can drive you around all I want. Plus, I wanted to see Hannibal anyway. Don’t worry I won’t intrude on your session. I brought a book.” You held your book up in front of him and he nodded slightly. 

Why did you wanna see Hannibal? He decided not to ask. 

You got out of the car and followed Will inside to Hannibal’s office. Hannibal opened the door, as though he had been listening and waiting for your arrival. His smile grew at the sight of you. 

“I was hoping to run into you. I boxed some leftovers from last night because you enjoyed them so much,” Hannibal explained. 

“You went over to Hannibals’ last night?” Will asked. He didn’t mean for his voice to sound so accusatory but it did. You shrugged.

“I went for dinner and he helped me with some case notes.” You remained completely oblivious to the tension in the room. He handed you a box that he grabbed from his desk and you nodded happily. “Thank you so much! I will cherish this,” you joked. You turned to Will. “Have a nice session boys, I’ll be in the car.” 

  They both nodded and waved goodbye to you as you left the room. The tension did not leave with you. 

====

The morgue did not smell any better the next time you were in it. You were alone with just Bev this time as you compared notes on the cause of death. She and the guys were still in the process of figuring it out but it had been a busy couple of days.

“Yeah that’s kind of what Price was saying. I don’t know, I’ll look into it more and get back to you,” she said as you showed her some notes. You nodded and put your notepad back in your bag. 

“Alright, keep me posted.” You stood up from your chair and stretched a bit. You and Beverly were pretty good friends outside of work as well so she had been dying to ask you about Hannibal and Will.

“So...how’s it going with Hannibal and Will?” she asked, crossing her arms and leaning against the wall. You gave her a confused look.

“Huh?” She scoffed.

“You’re kidding right?” You gave her a look and she laughed dryly. “You seriously don’t know? Those guys are head over heels for you. Come on, you had to have noticed how jealous they get when you talk to them. It literally fills the room with tension,” she explained. You shook your head slowly. It took you a moment but the realization hit you. You had to sit back down. 

“Oh my God, I’ve been so head first in this case I didn’t even notice,” you said, laughing a bit.

“Well! Who’s gonna take the cake? Come on, we’re running bets here in the morgue.” You raised an eyebrow.

“Who did you bet on?” She gave you a look. “Come on!” 

“Will,” she fessed up. You stood up. 

“Go get your money Katz.” A prideful look went over her face and she nodded. 

“Alright then. You better go get your man.” 

======

You knocked on Will’s door that night. You teetered back and forth on the porch, wondering if Beverly had been wrong. She could have read the signs wrong. Heck, you read the signs wrong at first. You were about to walk off the porch when Will opened the door, rubbing his eyes. 

“Hi,” he said, blinking quickly.

“Oh my gosh did I wake you? I’m sorry, I am running on case time,” you said, suddenly feeling very apologetic. He shook his head. 

“No, don’t worry about it. Do you need something?” You doubted yourself again but figured that if you were going to do it you had to do it now. 

“I just...Beverly said something and I...do you wanna go to dinner? Like together? Like as a couple?” You were trying to get the words out so they didn’t sound awkward. Will rubbed his eyes some more and then his hand dropped. He smirked a bit. 

“Yeah. I would really like that.” 

“Okay! Okay. Good, good. I’ll talk to you about it tomorrow once you get some rest,” you said. He nodded happily. 

“I look forward to it.” 

“Me too.” 

You turned around and he shut the door and a wall away from each other. You were both smiling wildly. Will almost called Hannibal and bragged but he went to sleep. He would find out eventually. 

[starshipsofstarlord]

Jim and Jody - Bucky Barnes x reader

Summary; it was one of the biggest decisions of your life, but will you change your mind before your future is sealed?

Warnings; angst, mentions of abortion (everyone is permitted to do what they want with their body, in this imagine the reader wants to keep the baby, but pro choice, as everyone deserves control over their bodies and all 🤍), brief mention of sex and threats

Masterlist Link

To see him so relaxed, so completely and utterly himself was a paradise all on its own. There was a heaviness aboard your shoulders, but as you watched him goof tirelessly about, you had no other concerns, not even as you subconsciously raised your hand over your stomach. You shook your head at the sentiment, the two of you had already made the decision to abort this child, it was unknown how the poor fellow would turn out to be; with the combination of your powers and his super everything, it was sure to be quite the complication, and not one that you supposed was to be an easy course.

A smile pried at your face, simply from viewing him with the pack of children, the wind from the docks swept your hair into your face, and in turn, you swept the locks out and away from your vision, so that you had further access to watch the man that you loved in his absolute element. Through the years, past and recent, he had lost so much, and this child was just to be another mantle on the wall of memorial in his mind, it was sad really. If the two of you were normal, with average and lives that had perceptions with no regards of being heroic, there’d be no query about it, you’d keep the baby.

That life though, to your grave misfortune, did not exist, it was merely a fantasy living painfully inside of your mind, haunting you whenever you closed your eyes, with the flashing images of a resolution and end to the errors in your lifestyle. There’d be a big house, yet nothing to prissy, just enough room for the pair of you and few children of your own, a grand garden with a swing set and sand pit, where the infants could grow up and play in once they were older. Then there’d also be a shed for Bucky to work on small projects, such as attaining some love and care to his motor bike, as well as storing the supplies that he’d need to do so.

All that is a universe away, muffled from possibility by the stars expediting through the gorgeous veil of the galaxy, corrupting the possibilities of ever gaining access to such... peace. That was the one thing that the pair of you wanted, however catching a break was rather rare within your predicament. A stifled laugh reeled from the conjunction of your lips as you simply and endearingly surveyed how the boys, specifically Sam’s nephews hung from the vibranium branch of his arm. It was all your attention was focused on, until an extra person took a seat on the picnic table beside you, his sweet yet musky scent detailing whom it was. “If your not going to eat that, I’m sure Barnes Junior might want an opinion on that.”

The underlining of the words caused an abstract grimace to forlorn your features, as you stared not at the speaker of whom you were close with, but instead the slather of cake that was planted on a paper plate before you, the icing beginning to become slightly sick from the beating of the viable son. “You’re glowing, you know? Motherhood is a good look on you y/n/n, I wouldn’t be so soon to let that go.” Your fingers pried at the dismantled crumbs off your section of desert as you looked to your new captain, a resonating conformation fo bridled suffering and hopelessness clouding your view of his attempt at making you atone before you made a sin that you’d forever regret.

He, like many others, knew that the family life was what you wanted; you wanted to be your child’s hero, tending to their each necessary (and unnecessary) need, them being your main focus and project and life. Instead, you had been handed your options on a short stick, and thus, your decision, albeit somewhat of a sensible one, didn’t make it hurt any less. “Sam.” You spoke his name, observing from the corner of your eye how Bucky paraded around the dock with Jim and Jody. It’d be nice to give him a slice of this kinda life, he was thriving as an adult around children, you could only imagine him in the case of this one being birthed into the world. “It’s not that easy.”

“No one said it was going to be easy.” Sam responded quickly, affirming your fears to your nerve wrecked face. “I get it, I do. People will be after this kid, and that is no way to live, but you two aren’t alone in any of this, nor will you be in that. You have me, along with many other old friends of ours, hell even the Wakandan’s. Do you really want to sacrifice this one life so you can continue living this one? You and Bucky have both lost so much, you don’t have to force yourself to willingly give away something else. The decision can be changed the last minute, it’s a lot to take in, I get that, but I see the way Buck is with my nephews, and how you watch them when you think nobody’s looking over at you. With your state pardon, you two can retire, and go far away, and abandon everything for this one little guy or gal, because I know that if you do, no matter what, they’ll be worth it.”

Bucky wailed a warrior’s shout as Jim and Jody playfully struck him down, his unsheathed metal hand grasping at the cloth that was tightly aboard his addictive chest. He rolled on the ground as the children ran to retrieve their toy lightsabers, leaving him to be expendable against their weapons. There was a giddy and fitting smile smouldering his usual stoic expression. It was no wander why he found calm in visiting Sam and his sister’s small, and accepting family. The kids brought out another side of him, which he had been tortured to refrain from showing, but you had seen, and were contemplating many things within your mind. You were lapping up the image, as though you were dehydrated and the sight of him appeased by the company of young ones was a source of water.

Sam was right, he always was and had been. “The decision was on both of our parts, you don’t think Buck’ll change his mind, or do you?” You were invested in getting a responsive answer, yet the man spluttered a laugh at your confused expense. He heaved for a moment, bracing his hands on his knees as he caught his breath. There was nothing stopping him from gaining it back, unlike Bucky whom had grabbed a saber of his own and lightly began to paddle against the one that was directed against him, other than another round of hysterics that abandoned him. A reasonable smile resonated a comfortable position upon the former falcon’s face, as he tentatively patted your knee, watching as you broke off a small rupture of cake and popped it in your mouth, feeding not only yourself but the inmate within your womb.

“There isn’t really much for me to say, it’s easy, look at him. He will be fine with whatever decision that the pair of you succumb to, after all, it’s your body, but it will pain him like nothing else ever has if you go through with the abortion, and if not, then trust me, we’ve both seen how hard he fights; think of that but ten times the mass in consideration of this baby, because I am certain that he’d do anything for them. He lost his entire family when he awoke from his mode of hydra assassin, this could be him getting it back. Different members, but a family all the same.” He stole a little of your cake, making you lightly elbow him as a smirk rendered a beauty upon his face.

“What’s that going to make you, the patriotic uncle who just can’t keep himself from flashing his shield?” Now it was his turn to retaliate, he lightly scuffed your ankle with a feather light tap of the toe of his shoe, causing you to promiscuously roll your eyes. “I’m joking, that was Steve’s aesthetic, this new version of cap is your baby, I have great faith in you to make this world a better and safer place. The funny thing is, when you finally accepted that shield was yours, that’s when my mind shifted to the possibility of keeping this kid. It was and has always been a sign of hope and protection to Bucky, maybe it could be the same for our little one. It was just a thought, I’m not meaning to put pressure on your or anything bu-“

“I get it, and I’m honoured. And if that is how it seems, then I want you to know that I’ll be there to protect them too. The main bump in the road for now is for you to talk to that grumpy ass boyfriend of yours and figure this sperm plus egg equation out, send Jim and Jody over here, I got somethin’ to show those two anyway.” With a nod and a grateful pat upon your friend’s head, you slowly plodded over to where Bucky was being cornered against the side of the truck by the boys. His blue orbs danced around their small and imaginative beings, until they landed on you, it was as though his pupils were calling out for help, begging for you to spare some mercy upon him.

“Jim, Jody, your uncle Sammy has something for you two to see.” They groaned lightly, having been pulled away from the narrative of their play time, but nevertheless their faces were clean slates as they expressed hyper smiles, and bolted their route towards their mother’s sibling, carrying their lightsaber replicas along with them. “Two kids beat an infamous, deadly badass with a metal arm. I think you might be getting too old for these kinda battles Buck, you were losing, and quite terribly if I say so myself.” Crossing your arms, as he came to an upright stand, hoisting himself off the ground, so that he could be more level with you.

“Yeah, yeah, rub it in. Thought you were supposed to be supportive of me and all that, as you said to Zemo, you’d quite happily cut his dick off if he compared me to the shadow that I used to be.” His brow raised, as he reminisced on the thought of you threatening Zemo; it was hot, and certainly had gotten him going, which had shortly left you in this predicament, trying to save the world and execute the one last thing that exhumed hope to either one of you. The baby. It was almost a certain and solid fact that the little one inside of you had been procreated on the Baron’s private jet, more specifically, the small and clean bathroom that had became dirty with your primal sins.

“And I still regret not doing that, he’d have had much less leverage in any sense of the word of phallic if he had it sectioned off.” Silence emitted between the two of you, although a humoured smirk tantalised upon Bucky’s graceful face. For a change, he was not prompting the expression of a grumpy cat that was refused its nip, no, instead he could be compared to a future - actually, he already was a father to the bean held in the shield of your body, having been an ample ingredient in bringing the small person into being. “So, you having fun with Sarah’s kids, sure looks like you were quite in your element before I cut in.”

“I’m always in my element when you’re around doll.” He smiled, wrapping his uncoordinated hands around the oval of your waist, and tugging you sentimentally closer, your hips bumped with his, as your eyes ogled infatuatedly up at him. “They’re great kids, makes me realise exactly what we’re gonna be missing out on.” Bucky gulped, sparks of emotion taunted the behind of his eyes, like saucers of resentful fire. “You’d be the perfect mother, you know that right? After all you’ve done for me, you’ve nurtured me close to the man that I once was, the only difference is that I want to settle, but I don’t know how to go about dropping everything. This kid is killing me, he’s making me question everything.”

“That’s what kids are supposed to do, unborn, or very much avidly attacking grown men with false lightsabers.” Bucky deeply into your frustrated and corresponding eyes, your hands reaching up to play defiantly with the smooth dip in his chin that could be seen through the shading of his light stubble. “What if we did have a Jim and Jody of our own some day? We could keep him or her, they’d be our greatest concern, we don’t have to go down this painful and longing, rusted road. We could bring something good into this world, protect them against all forces that threaten to disrupt their life, I want this with you Bucky. We could move far far away, or go somewhere close to home.”

“Brooklyn.” He stated, causing a line to crease gently in the plain of his forehead. “I want to call them Brooklyn, if I am to fight the rest of my life for something, I want it to be my home. Last time I had to leave there, but it’s my amends to never leave this child of ours, if we’re going to do this, we need to put them in front of everything, and I mean everything.” He spoke, in reference to the other avengers and other aliases that you had stood by for so long. Bleakly you nodded, grasping his jaw down for an amorous kiss, humming against the palette of his lips, as your hands entwined behind his neck, pulling his face closer to your own, prompting his tongue to travel deeper within the realm of your mouth.

“Brooklyn is a nice name. How about Brooklyn Margaret Barnes? I think that has quite the ring to it.” You offered, and he hardly reacted, instead quickly appraising a pleasant smile onto the canvas of his work of art face, as he ducked his head down, conjoining the pair of you into a passionate and meaningful collide of your lips. Sam smiled as he watched the pair of you, pointing at you two from afar, as his nephews from afar. He was giving them a man to men talk, offering them advice that they would have valuable usage of in the future.

“Now that is love. You don’t give up for the one thing that connects you, and those two, well Bucky and y/n have been through a hell of a lot. They deserve this, and when you meet a woman when you’re older, and your mum is watching on towards the two of you, I want you to make her proud by treating your girl like a princess, willing to sacrifice everything simply to create the future that she wishes for you.” He emotionally wiped his eyes, rushing to stand before he grasped a lightsaber, leaving the other to spare for one of them. “Now Jim and Jody, which one of you will be my padawan?”

[drarrily-we-row-along]

Day 10: The Beach

"Don't even think about it, Potter," Draco warned, taking half a dozen steps back and holding out his hands to ward off his menace of a husband. (Yes, husband. They'd gotten married the day before and Draco was still basically in a state of shock.)

Harry pouted at him, "But-"

"No," he repeated. "You are soaked and you're covered in sand."

Harry pushed his wet curls back off his face and gave him that grin, the one that turned Draco's will into complete mush. "Come on," he cajoled. "Come have a swim with me."

Draco ignored him and opened his bag, pulling out a beach chair, then a massive umbrella, followed by a novel, and then a travel mug margarita. "I told you when you begged to go to the beach for our honeymoon," he said as he set up his chair and stuck the umbrella into the sand, "Malfoys burn in the sun. Not all of us can have gorgeous bronze complexions like gods," he grumbled.

Harry stepped toward him and Draco held out his hand, making a little force field wandlessly.

"You are not allowed to touch me when you're all wet," he repeated with a shake of his head.

"One kiss," Harry wheedled. "I'll keep my hands behind my back," he said, demonstrating the action, "and the only part of my body to touch yours will be my lips."

Draco rolled his eyes but his whole body warmed pleasantly at the thought of Harry's lips on his like he'd just taken a shot of fire whiskey. "Fine," he replied with a put upon sigh that Harry saw right through. He leaned over and pressed his lips to Harry's.

(More below the cut)

After a second, Draco gave in and cupped Harry's face, pressing their bodies together from chest to thigh. He couldn't help himself.

He pulled back minutely, "Hold me, you brat," he said, before leaning in to kiss Harry again.

Harry huffed a laugh against his lips before wrapping Draco tight in his arms and holding him close. And Draco loved this, loved being held in Harry's (his husband's!) arms, loved feeling weightless and free, knowing that he had made his life his own.

"Godric, I love you," Harry sighed against the tender spot just to the left of Draco's mouth, the bristles of his beard rasping against Draco's sensitive skin.

"I love you, too," Draco replied. "Even if you did just get me all wet and sandy."

Harry laughed, his breath warm against Draco's cheek; he left a kiss on Draco's temple before pulling back. He took a step away and waved a hand at Draco's body and the warmth of Harry's magic washed over him, drying him and blowing the sand away. "Are you sure I can't tempt you with a swim?" he asked, nodding his head toward the ocean.

"Positive. I prefer not shedding my skin like a snake after it's been burned to a crisp."

Harry huffed, "There are charms for that, you know."

"They don't work," Draco replied, slipping his sunglasses down over his eyes before settling into his chair. "I'm fine," he said, shooing Harry away. "You go play in the ocean and I'll read Pansy's latest," he said, holding up the paperback he'd brought along.

Harry bent over him and brushed his lips over Draco's, "I'll see you soon, yeah?"

"Yes," he murmured, leaning up to peck Harry's lips one more time. "Go."

Harry started away, turning his head to call over his shoulder, "Admit it. You just like to watch my arse as I walk away."

He huffed a laugh but it didn't stop him from watching Harry walk toward the ocean.

-----------

They'd spent the afternoon by the ocean, Harry playing in the water and returning to Draco to steal his drink and get him covered in salty ocean water and sand. After the beach they'd gone to dinner, then wandered around the little town, popping into shops and stopping for coffee, then ice cream, before heading back to the little villa they were staying at.

Draco collapsed on the sofa, feeling full and happy.

Harry flopped down on top of him, pressing him into the soft white cushions.

"Oof," he grumbled but he wrapped his arms around Harry and held him tight so he didn't move.

Harry nuzzled into Draco's neck, "You smell like the ocean."

"Do I?" Draco asked, amused, stroking his fingers through Harry's curls.

Harry nodded and his body relaxed further, and Draco gladly accepted the pleasant weight of him.

After a few minutes of quiet cuddles and soft kisses, Harry stood up and tugged Draco up after him. "Come on," he said.

"Come where?" he said, trying to pull him back to the sofa. Or perhaps the hot tub.

The other man huffed at him and then just scooped him up. Draco shrieked, "Put me down! This is not dignified."

"Nope," Harry replied, carrying him out to the balcony, then down the steps. "You have no more excuses," he informed him. "You are getting in the ocean with me."

Draco kicked his legs, instinctively wanting to fight with him, "There's still sand and water."

"Neither of which will cause sunburn or peeling," Harry replied as he set him on his feet. Harry reached for the hem of his own shirt, pulling it up over his head and knocking his glasses off.

"That's just plain manipulative," Draco replied as Harry's torso was revealed. Harry knew that Draco stood no chance of resisting him when he stood there all muscles and gorgeous skin just waiting to be caressed by Draco's hands.

His laugh rang out, warm and pleased, "You should get undressed too," he informed him as his hands started to undo the button and zip on his trousers. "You're going in the ocean whether you're out of that handsome outfit or not."

"Handsome, hmm?" he asked as he pulled his own shirt over his head.

"Yes," Harry replied easily. "You are the most gorgeous person I've ever met. Regardless of what you're wearing."

Draco shook his head at him and leaned in to peck a kiss to his lips.

Harry pulled back before they could get more invested in the kiss, "Come on," he said again, stepping back then making eye contact with Draco as he hooked his thumbs in his pants and pushed them off. "Don't keep me waiting," he added with a wink before turning and walking away without a backward glance, knowing full well Draco would follow.

He stripped out of his clothes embarrassingly quickly, stumbling a bit in the sand as his foot got stuck in his pants. Once he'd gotten them kicked off and righted himself, he looked up to see that Harry was standing in water up to his hips, staring out at the vastness of the ocean.

Draco had always thought of Harry as more like the sun; warm and consuming, his light illuminating everything around him, making new life bloom. But perhaps he was like the moon, too, Draco thought. Quiet, steady, pulling Draco in the same way the moon moved the waves.

Either way he was beautiful.

He made his way out to the other man and wrapped his arms around Harry's waist, pressing his front to Harry's back and hooking his chin over his shoulder.

Harry leaned back against him and covered Draco's arms with his own, "Took you long enough," he murmured.

"What are you thinking about?" Draco asked, kissing the tender spot on Harry's neck where his shoulder and neck met.

Harry turned in his arms, "That I love you," he said softly, stroking his warm, wet hands down Draco's neck and over his chest. "That life is beautiful and full of meaning when you have someone to share it with. I was thinking that you have filled up my life with joy, and laughter, and love in ways that I never knew I needed. That I knew what it was to love but not what it was to be loved, not like this anyway," he added, brushing his hands over Draco's ribs. "I was thinking that I was glad to be alive."

Draco didn't know what to say, never knew what to say when Harry said words like those to him. He'd never imagined that anyone could feel those things for him and if anyone did, it certainly shouldn't have been Harry.

"I was also thinking," Harry said, before Draco could come up with a reply, "That it's ridiculous that you agreed to come to the beach for our honeymoon, when you obviously hate it so much."

"But I love you," he said easily. "And I love seeing you here. You're so," he trailed off, searching for the right word, "free here. And I genuinely do not mind sitting under an umbrella and drinking all day while you get gorgeously tan. The bathing trunks you have don't hurt anything either," he teased.

Harry kissed him lightly, "You want to know the truth?"

"Yes," he breathed, brushing his nose along Harry's and closing his eyes as he rested their foreheads together.

"Anywhere I am with you, I am free," he said. "You've set me free from bars that I never knew were holding me, Draco Malfoy."

"That's Draco Potter, to you," he whispered. "And you've set me free, too."

Day 9: Nose Kisses | Day 11: Pinky Promise

[yinses]

college au! headcanons

gojo satoru, geto suguru & nanami kento

rqst: college au for nanami, geto and gojo?

a/n: so i divided it into three categories to help keep my head straight. honestly almost straight kicked gojo out of college bc i couldn’t decide on a major for him. the jjk discord server is heaven sent for my sanity. ty everyone again 🌺

last time i should have to post these. hoping everything is fine now. 

gojo satoru

MAJOR

—he starts off undecided for a long time. the fact that he’s on scholarship allows him to be more flexible with his classes given that he’s not responsible for costs. he grew up with expectations from his family but university is suppose to be his opportunity to spread his own wings and grow from his experiences.

—so he tries a bit of everything- sciences, music and social studies- anything to prompt a spark. (took a business class once and made a point to sit next to nanami everyday just to annoy him) by his second year he’s getting as frustrated as his counselor because if he doesn’t decide soon he’ll be a potential 5th year senior.

—he’s overthinking it but gojo wants to invest in what he believes will make the most significant impact to his ability. his counselor takes those crumbs and runs with it.

—he gets steered towards political science and actually excels at it (that advisor gets a raise). surprises most of the class with his analytical skills because they thought he was just a pretty boy- surprise he’s beautiful and smart.

—develops a vested interest in governmental policies. might run for president one day idk. brings donuts to his early am class. doesn’t share.

SOCIAL

—he’s not the jock per say, but as the star athlete of the basketball team, the school likes to take advantage of his image to draw in sponsors.

—his face is plastered all over the auditorium whether they’re in season or not. sometimes it’s not even to promote basketball, gojo is pretty and they’re not afraid to use it. which also makes him one of the most recognizable faces on campus.

—due to his student athlete contract, he’s not allowed to sign autographs freely in the event they’re attempted to be sold as quick cash. but yikes, he can barely walk to class without someone stopping him for a picture. to the best of his ability he tries to laugh it off, poster boy image and all, but it gets pretty fucking old and annoying quickly. especially when it makes him late for his next lesson and the instructor shows no sympathy.

—his height didn’t only help him get into basketball, but its also convenient when it comes to shouldering politely through the student masses. his golden rule is don’t make eye contact. the busier the crowds the easier it is for him to pretend like he could’t possibly have heard them.

—gojo doesnt scout fraternities, fraternities scout him. but he’s not interested in the slightest. as an athlete he already gets into any social circle he wants without the additional effort. that and he doesnt think he could tolerate an alpha male trying to exert his dominance without barking back.

—loves to show up to parties but always arrives late enough to the point where they don’t think he’s coming. it helps him slip in when he wants too. he’s a connoisseur of all alcohol varieties and a master of beer bong. he’s not necessarily the life of the party but his presence is kind of hard to miss.

RELATIONSHIPS

—he gets too much attention to date casually. most potential suitors are in it more for the benefits they receive than him anyway. he’s got enough on his plate with career indecisiveness and games to try to pursue anything serious before third year.

—he’s not completely celibate though. he tries to keep the same partners as long as he can. not only to keep himself clean and safe but because he often goes into an agreement to keep it casual. sometimes it works, sometimes it doesn’t. either way he gets coined as a ‘heartbreaker’ before the end of his freshman year. frankly the rumors obscure most of the truth and give him more freedom. people always expect that he’s with someone even when he’s not, which helps keep his invasive teammates off his back.

—gojo can easily graduate without securing something tangible but there is still a window for potential.

—you’re both his consistent classmate and occasional friends with benefits. its the former title that keeps bringing him back around. he cant exactly avoid you without subjecting himself to 8am classes. it helps that the sex is good too.

—he can text you an offer to study together for the next test and roll over after an hour and wreck you for the rest of the week. its hard to tell who gets addicted first but he does appreciate the way your skin looks when youre wearing his marks.

geto suguru

MAJOR

—he’s a STEM kid, particularly interested in bio-genetics to improve overall health. he believes that simply becoming a physician just keeps the issue at bay and his goal is to eradicate the problem at its source.

—since high school he’s been cataloging different programs across the country before deciding what he wanted and putting all his efforts into it. so it’s no surprise when he gets in.

—geto doesn’t need counselors but they’re required so he listens to them prattle on about using university as an opportunity to explore. this man came in with more college credits than most sophomores, he knows what he wants.

—always on-time to class and never misses an assignment. also that kid who goes above and beyond, even on the simple stuff. he rarely gets teased about it, not even behind his back. geto straight up scares some people even when he’s smiling.

—not afraid to correct teachers when they’re wrong. in fact he lives for it.

—he’s the one who graduated early and starts his master’s program before most of his age group declare their own majors.

SOCIAL

—he tends to frequent the same circles- handpicking his acquaintances out of class rosters, clubs and honor lists. he’s less in it for the friendship and more so to scout for potential research partners.

—met gojo in one of his science electives and literally carried him through the class. they somehow end up friends but only really hang out at each other’s places- bunch of chill movie nights and pizza.

—there is no interest in fraternities, but he does join university funded clubs that allow him to further his research. they give him unique access to labs, take him on trips to different conventions and have an alumni list a kilometer long for future collaborations.

—the man does not party but he will occasionally slip into quieter bars to ease some of his frustrations. he actually enjoys karaoke thursdays , not to sing for himself but the drunken antics of others bring him some amusement.

—smokes weed occasionally, but only his own product. it helps him relaxand fan out the stress. he never sells it but sometimes gojo nicks some of his stash. given that he gets drug tested often, geto doesn’t know how the athlete never gets caught.

RELATIONSHIPS

—not interested in seeking out relationships in the slightest. the man has a plan and he’s already married to it.

—he’s not completely immune to sexual advances though and occasionally splurges but none of the friends with benefits crap. he’ll hit it once and stay celibate for the rest of the year easily.

—you might be able to squeeze in as his fellow lab partner. remain invested in the work and not him and he’ll start noticing the little details of your company- the way you subtle perfume lingers on his lab coat hours after you’ve adorned for the day, how he knows you have to keep your hair up for safety precautions but he thinks about running his fingers through it daily and your mind, damn, he wonders what else you can come up with when he has you laid out on his sheets.

—if he’s interested, geto won’t hesitate to broach the topic. he’ll ask you out for coffee and when you try to bring up research he’ll be upfront about his attraction. ultimately if you start dating the two of you are an absolute unit- not that you weren’t before.

—you’re the one variable he didn’t plan for but he’s glad to have added you to the equation.

nanami kento

MAJOR

—he was made for the business world, brought by a CEO who raised him to inherit the company. administration major marketing minor.

—takes initiative in all his classes and is often coined as group leader for projects. mostly keeps to himself  and only speaks up when prompted or disagrees with something.

—he takes the earliest sessions possible because it means less people more often than not. doesn’t really care if its in the front, middle or back but always sits near the edge.

—doesn’t really want to but it looks good on his resume so he joins the marketing team where they present mock business plans for competitions. they win a lot. nanami honestly doesn’t care. but again it looks good.

—it only took him a brief summer internship to learn that he found nothing satisfying about board meetings and macro management.

—he decides to invest in law school to handle the company from a legal standpoint instead.

SOCIAL

— sort of like geto, only wants to make friends on a need be basis.

—he would rather keep to himself but knows the benefits of socializing so he interacts with his frequent classmates when he can- through study groups or car pooling to seminars.

—he does join a fraternity, its the same one his father did (and uncles, cousins, whatnot. its a generational thing). its geared towards bettering future leaders. they focus building resumes, charity events and run the organization like a proper business. nanami gets elected president by his third year and runs two terms.

—the only parties he attends are networking events- full of wine and fancy horderves. wine is plentiful but he’s always nursing a scotch on top of his headache. if one more person squeezes their stocks into a conversation he’s going to personally take down the whole market

—zero interest in college party life. spends some of his downtime at the campus theater watching old time movies and classic plays.

—he’s the coffee shop hoe. he wakes up early sometimes just to sit by the window and read some casual literature. has his own thermo that gives him free refills to cart to class. do not talk to this man before he’s had his caffeine.

RELATIONSHIP

—he probably has a high school sweetheart that he’s still clinging too, whether on the same campus or long distance. it helps him because he can’t really see himself pursuing a relationship while focusing on school.

—he’s been with you long enough that you understand his ambitions and won’t feel bested by them. the two of you have a system- starting the day off with sweet ‘good morning’ texts before class and ending the day with long conversations as you digest the last 12 hours.

—nanami is independent but he is thankful to have you to rely on when classes start to overwhelm him. the two of try to escape briefly for the weekend when you can. often going to near by reservations just to get off campus

—other times the two of you will cuddle close on your dorm bed, his long fingers combing through your hair while he reads over some notes for class.

—sometimes you have to be the one to tell him to take a break and to enjoy life while he can. even if that means dragging him the events and concerts hosted on campus. he resists at first but you can see the tension ebbing away as the night comes to a close.

—the two of you start living together in your senior year just because you can. he insists on buying a house. not only because he can afford it because it can be rented out after graduation. always the business man.

[carpisuns]

New anon, but I saw the last one and I have some thoughts. Specifically, I have been obsessing over ml for the last month or so, and I’ve only seen three episodes, and they were the three released before crocoduel. And you know what? I wasn’t that into it, it wasn’t bad it just wasn’t half as engaging as fanon and fanworks have been for me.

I’ve also done this with the Magicians, Supernatural, and a couple others. I think the reason that this works, for some people, is because it is a more familiar and in many ways, easier way to discover and become attached to new material and new characters. Fan writers and artists are coming from a place of love for their source material (no matter what issues they may have with it) and that bleeds out into their work. Time is spent developing the characters and their feelings, their relationships, in ways that canon so often can’t or isn’t allowed to, and reading that, it’s very easy to fall in love with new characters very quickly. There’s also common AUs and dynamics that make it much easier to start something new.

And also: comfort characters. So many fans find common ground with characters and further project onto them, particularly in fanfic. And because of that it’s often easier to identify with a fan’s interpretation of a character than it is to identify with the canon’s, since you have these more deeply explored feelings and relationships based on a combination of canon and the personal experiences of the fan writer. Also, with these kinds of fics it’s extremely emotionally affirming since for someone who doesn’t have much of any connection with the source material, it feels like the original, even if you’re reading a large body of work by a lot of different people. And I’m so used to fanfic as a substitute for the emotional work and character development that shows/movies/books don’t have room for or aren’t willing to get into, that approaching a fandom as it’s own original piece of media in a way, feels very comforting.

That’s my perspective on it anyways, and why I do this. I do think it is a good thing to engage with the canon to an extent, even if it’s just watching a few clips (how I found ml) but I also don’t think you need any real connection or knowledge of it to be deeply invested in the fandom. Sorry, this got very long.

you know, i totally get being on, like, the fringe of fandoms and interacting with fanon to an extent without a proper investment in canon (I have a couple fandoms like that), but i honestly just can't imagine becoming super invested in a fandom when I am not invested in the source material...maybe that's just a difference between you and me, idk.

but also, i gotta admit that i'm struggling a bit to understand the reason. you yourself pointed out that fan work is enjoyable because the creator's love for canon bleeds into it. and isn't that the reason that you would want to give canon a real chance? obviously there is fan content made out of spite lol (and sadly a fair amount in this fandom), but to me most fan content is like a love letter to canon. like, "i adore this thing so much that it inspired me to create and share with other people who adore it." and what better recommendation is there than that?? i would think people would wanna familiarize themselves with canon in order to better enjoy fanon(?)

i completely understand your point about fan content delving further into characterization and relationships where canon hasn't/can't, and that is such a big appeal of fanfic/fanart. but i don't feel like that's a reason to not engage with canon? on the contrary, i feel like you are missing something important in your understanding and appreciation of that wonderful exploration if you haven't experienced firsthand the foundation that canon set. and maybe that missing thing is just your personal interpretation of a character/dynamic.

for example, i could say, "adrien agreste is this, this, and this and he would do this but not this." and of course i will think im right because my characterization is always perfect 😌sakjdfaldjks but someone else might have a slightly different interpretation, and someone else will have another interpretation, and when you mush all those individual takes on a character together, you will get a good sense of who they are, but you still don't have the Original™️ to draw your own interpretation from. idk, to me it sounds like basing your opinion of chocolate ice cream on what other people are saying about it without ever trying it yourself? ajsldakljf maybe that's an oversimplification but i do think that without experiencing it for yourself, your understanding will always be kind of incomplete.

idk, i big agree with everything you said about why fan content is special, but everything that is a point in fanon's favor is not a knock on canon. to me fan content feels pretty inseparable from canon, so it just doesn't compute to me to take canon out of the equation? then we would have nothing.

i feel like it's almost kinda trendy nowadays to be like, "oh this show actually sucks lmao but the fanon and AUs are good." like it's shameful to actually...enjoy source material? 😭 i mean i completely understand that miraculous ladybug is not gonna be everyone's cup of tea and that's fine! but if you truly enjoy the fan content that much i encourage you to give canon a real shot. it's not that surprising to me that you watched 3 recent episodes and didn't vibe that much, since you haven't seen the 3 seasons of buildup that lead to them. miraculous has a neat way of tying a bunch of things together so if you aren't familiar with all of it, you're probably missing out.

personally my love for miraculous was kind of a slowburn at first. i only started watching the show because my sister and i made a deal that forced me to watch the first few eps lol. and i didn't really vibe either. but there must have been enough of a spark there for me to keep watching bc for some reason i did and the more i watched the more i fell in love with it until it became the thing that occupies my brain more than anything else. i started with canon and then got into fanon, but it could easily go the other way too. and if you're already invested in the story and characters, i have to imagine it would be much easier to push past the initial cringe of "this is a show about a couple of teen furries rated TV-Y7 on netflix" lol and give anything you don't vibe with the benefit of the doubt.

again, to be clear, i'm not trying to judge or gatekeep here! i'm just saying this because i genuinely LOVE miraculous. it's my favorite show. that's why i make things for it. that's why i have this blog. i want people to watch it. so maybe, pwetty pwease, try watching the show you like so much? 🥺👉👈

(source bc i was too lazy to make my own so i stole this from twitter)