#i especially want to finish that commission cause i do want to try streaming again this weekend so. | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

lovely-angst · 3 years

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break ups and break ins

a/n: i didn't have any motivation to continue writing so it stayed in my drafts for forever. it's a super messy fic im not super proud of tbh i wanted to scrap it but i got so far lol

genre: angst to fluff

pairing: hawks x reader

summary: you and hawks break up, but someone breaks in?

word count: 3.7k+

09.16.21

"come on, stop being so sensitive," hawks groans with an eye roll as you gawk at him. "you think i'm being sensitive because I'm hurt that you're out there flirting with other girls while we are in a relationship?"

you scoff in disbelief before tears form in your eyes, "i can't believe you right now, keigo."

hawks' brows knit as he stares at you bewildered, "i've already told you that it's just an act i have to out up because of the commission. i can't let them figure out i have a romantic relationship with someone. you don't know what they would do or could do."

"but that doesn't mean you can flirt around with no boundaries!" your voice comes out loud as your arms flail out in front of you, tears streaming down your face, "do you know how much it hurts to see you on television sweet-talking every girl out there when you're my boyfriend? i thought you would respect what we have..."

"(name), just admit you're just jealous of the fangirls and leave it at that," hawks closes his eyes, shaking his head in frustration, "honestly, they appreciate me so much more than you do."

your eyes widen in shock as you feel your heart shattering into tiny pieces so small you aren't sure if you could piece it back up.

"keigo, i love you for who you are—not because you're hawks," your voice now small and laced with hurt. "if you can't see the reason why i am so upset, i think it's best if we end it."

hawks' eyes quickly glance to yours before they look away just as quick, "i think that's what's best too," he whispers, causing your brows to furrow in sadness as you purse your lips tightly.

taking a step forward, you wrap your arms around your now ex-boyfriend, taking in his comforting arms and smell, "thanks for everything." a heavy sigh left from his lips before he nuzzled into you, "can i hold you in bed one last time?"

words died in your throat as you felt the tears sting your eyes once more. a nod was your only reply as hawks lifted the two of you up with his large wings, carrying you into the bedroom.

no words were exchanged as the two of you allowed your quiet breaths to mingle together in silence.

your heart was still achey from the fresh break-up as your cries and tears quietly filled the air. your nose and eyes red and raw from all the wiping you had done—the tissues around you as proof.

"hey, come on. you can't keep living like this and expect to get better," mirko says and she stands infront of you with a small smile. "how about we watch something to distract your mind?" she suggests as she turns around to pick up the controller to turn the television screen on.

"hawks, being the number two hero must be so taxing! how do you do it?"

hawks gives that big bright smile you've always loved, "my fans always give me motivation to do my best! i love you my babybirds!"

"oh shit-" mirko quickly turns the television screen off before she turns over to you, watching as your lips quiver before you break out in another crying session.

"rumi," you whine, muffled behind your tissues, "he doesn't care for me at all!" letting out a sigh, she walks over and places a comforting hand on your hair before running her hand through your locks, "hey, don't say that. hawks' cared for you a lot. break-ups happen, but don't let it keep you like this. let's go out and have some fun today, yeah?"

your teary eyes glance up at her before you let out sigh, "okay."

but to your surprise, a quick hour later here you were on a chair getting your makeup done professionally as mirko sat on the couch, munching away on a carrot. "rumi? why am i getting my makeup done professionally?"

"my makeup artist is good at what she does when she beats my face with makeup for those hero galas. i thought it would make you feel better getting your makeup done professionally before we go out and explore the city a bit," she finishes, taking another crunchy bite of her carrot.

a small, "oh" leaves your lips before your attention focuses back on the lipstick that gently glided across your lips. "there, all done. you look great!" the makeup artist cheers as she hands you a mirror.

your eyes sparkled once you saw your reflection—you had never felt so pretty before!

"are you ready to go out now?" mirko asks with a smile as she stands from her seat. you couldn't help the small, yet excited, smile, "yeah."

your words had been on repeat in hawks' mind.

you were upset because of how he was treating his fans—flirting with his fans as you put it. it was a constant argument the two of you had and frankly, he was getting tired of it. why you couldn't understand where he was coming from?

he didn't want to break up because of something so trivial, but it seemed like a break up was the only option. but it was fine, his fans kept him going; or that's what he thought was keeping him going.

"hawks! we love you!" his fans cried as he landed down in front of them, his handsome smile swooning everyone lucky enough to get their eye on him. "thanks birdies! i'm always happy to have your support!"

"can i have a picture?" "sign my shirt for me!" "you're the best hero!"

fans; something he enjoyed about being a hero. everywhere he went, they were there to offer him their love and support which he appreciated and loved!

but there often came days when he just wanted to stay cooped in his apartment. away from the world and away from the hero hawks. he simply wanted to escape and enjoy being keigo for a little while.

maintaining a facade took a lot away from him. it was tiring, exhausting even, trying to keep up with how fast his mind was going. a million different things happening at once and hawks had to be able to solve them. a little much for a single guy, don't 'cha think?

landing in at his balcony, hawks let out a heavy sigh as he was finally done with another tiring day of being the number two hero. thankfully, he had the next day off to do, well, nothing.

staring at the dark apartment with a an empty look, hawks let out a groan of exhaustion before unlocking the door and stepping in.

it was quiet, extra quiet these days. since he had gone to living by himself again.

after removing his hero gear, hawks walked into the kitchen and frowned at his lack of food in the fridge. usually, you were always there to greet him with a smile and a hearty dinner after a hard day at work.

well, that didn't matter anymore because you two had broken up, hawks mentally responded to his thoughts.

it seemed like tonight was one of those nights he really missed you.

you made this place feel like home and the more he thought about it, you were his home. he was safe with you and it was okay to let hawks go for the night and just be keigo. you loved him as he came, his flaws and everything. even the emotional baggage!

letting out an exhausted sigh, hawks closed his empty fridge before making his way towards his bed, plopping down with a grunt. "i'll just get a bigger breakfast tomorrow," he noted, pulling out his phone to catch up on his social media for the night.

hawks wasn't expecting to see much on his social media, he's too busy to be checking these sorts of things. today though, he was a little extra bored at home—until he saw a photo of you that mirko shared.

hawks quickly sat up in disbelief. hawks was genuinely confused. you had always been super pretty, but you were extra pretty in this picture. was it because you were no longer his? his eyes glanced over you in the photo for many long minutes as he took in your beauty. you looked so ethereal.

hawks was so thankful for mirko, he would have never stumbled across this photo of you.

the more he smiled at the photo, the more his heart ached. if only he just listened to you more and tried to find a solution to this problem, you would still be with him, in his arms. he was a fool to let you go because he didn't understand your pain. especially when you were always there for him when you couldn't understand his pain.

hawks found himself pulling up that photo of you whenever the days were tough. it never failed to bring a smile to his lips.

until mirko deleted the post.

he should've saved it when he had the chance, hawks thought as he let out a groan upon finding no picture. but, maybe mirko still had it on her phone? thankfully, there was a top five hero meeting that day which meant he could ask mirko about the picture.

hawks sat impatiently in his chair as he drummed his finger against his thigh, counting down the minutes until the meeting would conclude. it must've been distracting, because mirko approached him first after the meeting.

"hey birdbrain, what's up with you? you looked distracted during the meeting," mirko questioned walking up to the winged hero. hawks perked up slightly, before giving her a smile, "hmm? nah, just sick of meetings, wanted to get out." mirko eyed him curiously, "if you say so."

"i saw that picture you posted of (name)," he commented, "you two were hanging out?"

"huh? oh, this picture?" pulling up the picture on her phone, she showed him the photo before pulling away to hawks' dismay. "yeah, we went out. it was about time too! (name) seemed to be enjoying herself, so i'm glad i got to capture that."

hawks couldn't help the smile on his lips knowing that you were happy and could enjoy yourself. he really just wanted you to be happy, even if that wasn't with him.

"if you wanted the photo, you could've just asked," mirko smirks, causing hawks to duck his head down in embarrassment. "but even if you ask, im not giving it to you." Hawks turned his head brows furrowed and confused, slightly offended, "why would you even suggest it then?"

"not sure, maybe it'll be a way to encourage you to find a way to get it."

mirko had an interesting way of talking, hawks thought as he continued on with his patrol. it seemed like she was hinting at more than what she was saying, but he wasn't really interested in solving puzzles when he was busy being the number 2 hero.

and boy, was he busy busy.

it felt as if all the villains knew hawks would be out on patrol today, using that to their advatange by stiring up so much more trouble than on a typical day—not that he couldn't handle it, it was just more work that he would have hoped to do that day.

from the sky, he could see a crowd forming below on the streets as they cheered him on for another successful capture. hawks let out an exhausted sigh, but floated down to greet his fans nonetheless. there even happened to be press.

"hawks! you were amazing out there!" "great work! i can always count on you!" "you looked so attractive fighting those villains!"

hawks lifted up his visor and gave the fans a handsome grin, causing a chorus of squeals. hawks glanced at one of the fans near him lips curled in a smirk, mouth ready to open and say a few lines that would send arrows straight to the heart when he subconsciously stopped himself.

closing his mouth, he gave her a gentle smile before a soft reply came out, "thank you for supporting me."

it was weird of him to respond to fans in such fashion, but your words were stuck in the back of his head. he wished he could have acted this way before you two broke it off, it would have saved a lot of heartache.

hawks hoped you would notice his change. and unbeknownst to him, you had.

your eyes were glued to the television that aired the news that also happened to feature your ex-boyfriend, hawks. your heart felt fuzzy as you watched him, he seemed different...more down to earth?

"your eyes haven't left the tv since hawks appeared," mirko comments causing you to avert your eyes embarrassed. "i was just interested in the news for today, that's all," you tried but knew mirko wouldn't buy into your lie.

"yeah, okay. keep telling yourself that," she chuckles as she she sits down beside you. "so, whats going on in that head of yours now?"

"he's different now, rumi," you state, eyes drifting back to the screen. "he's talking to his fans like they're fans." your shoulders slump sadly, "i wish he was like this when we were together...i guess he really doesn't care about me after all."

mirko lets out a grunt as she listens to your moping. turning towards her, you notice her adjusting her purple thigh high socks to sit snugly against her upper thighs, "you have patrol this evening?"

"yep, my turn for an evening patrol. they're not that bad, more bad guys come out at night," she jokes with chuckle but you don't find it funny. "i know you can easily beat them, but that doesn't mean i worry any less for you," you sigh. "stay safe please."

"will do, cry baby," she jokes once more causing you to angrily pout, "i'm not a cry baby!" "says the one crying over hawks. bye!" and with that she quickly leaves out the door before you could throw a pillow at her.

rolling your eyes playfully, you walk over toward the bedroom you shared with mirko. you had a nice futon on the floor beside of her bed that surprisingly was very comfy. organizing her room a bit and folding her clothes she tossed around, you tried to busy yourself until she came back.

which was surprisingly short.

you heard the main door swing open before hearing her move around the living room and kitchen. she must've forgotten something, you thought to yourself as you made your way toward the bedroom door you had previously closed behind you.

"rumi? did you forget something?" you ask as you open the door, just to find yourself staring at the stranger in the apartment who donned a black ski mask with some sort of weapon in their hand. unfortunately your voice had caught their attention and their head quickly turned toward you before bolting it down the hallway for you.

screaming, you quickly shut the door and locked it before the thief could get in. the rattle of the doorknob causes you to let out another shriek as you looked around for a way to protect yourself and to escape.

the only solution that came to your mind was to block the door with whatever heavy furniture mirko had on her room which consisted of her bed, a desk and her clothes drawers. you did your best to block the door, but it was proving to be not enough.

"open the door and i won't hurt you miss," the voice called out and you felt your stomach twist from their words.

you scurried around to look for your phone and thankfully found it amongst this chaos and your body went on auto-pilot and dialed the first person that came to your mind whenever you were in danger.

your shaky hand brought your phone to your ear as you ran into the furthest corner of her room. your free hand covering your trembling lips. please pick up.

"hello? (name)?"

"keigo please help me," you cried quietly so the person on the other side couldn't hear you, but the desperation in your voice was clear as day for hawks. "(name)? whats happening? where are you?" his voice was now firm and laced with worry as you began to sob in through the phone.

"i'm at mirko's and she just left for patrol but someone broke in and i hid myself in her room. i'm so scared, please come quick." and right after he heard you squeak in fear from the unidentified noises through your phone.

"i'm coming right now," you could hear the power his wings had as he lift himself into the sky, "does she have any windows you can exit from?" glancing behind you, you took a mental note that her windows were large enough for you to escape through—the only problem was mirko lived on the tenth floor.

squeezing your eyes shut, you nodded even though hawks could not see you, "yeah, but she doesn't have any escape ladders and i'm on the tenth floor." hawks cursed under his breath on the other side, "just hold on, i'm almost there."

clutching onto your phone, you jumped when the barricade you made against the door was getting tossed around from the force of the stranger on the other side trying to break in. scrambling around, you quickly unlocked the window before opening it, allowing the wind to flow in.

with another jolt from the door all of your barricades flew from the door, leaving it vulnerable. you knew the door would fall with his next move, so with trembling hands, you maneuvered your body outside the window, letting your bottom sit on the window frame.

from a distance, you could hear someone calling out your name. when you narrowed your eyes to focus, all of the stress left your body as you watched them shoot towards you. hawks had come to your rescue!

but hawks wasn't close enough.

the door behind you broke allowing the stranger into the room and before they could grab a hold of you, you jumped.

"(name)!"

as your body free fell down towards the earth, hawks used his wings to give himself one strong push forward before folding his wings tightly behind his back to gain speed to reach you.

reaching his arms out, he caught you in time before shooting back up towards the sky, "that was so stupid of you!" you shouted loudly against the wind, "what if i wasn't there in time?"

glancing up at him, you gave him a small smile, "i just knew you'd get to me in time ."

"agh, more paperwork i have to fill out!" mirko groans as she walks around her messy apartment after hawks and her had caught the suspect and had cops take care of him. as she walked away into her bedroom with a line of curses, you quietly turned over towards hawks who had his back facing you. he was on call with the commission.

"yep, i'll get that finished tomorrow," ending his call and stuffing his phone in his pocket, he turns around to find you staring at him. his cheeks flush slightly from the sudden eye contact, but he managed to compose himself. "are you doing alright? that must've been quite the terrifying experience."

"yeah, thanks for picking up. you were the first person i thought to call," you confess and he perks up. "oh yeah?"

"you've always kept me safe and i just really needed you when i was in danger. so thanks," giving him a smile he mirrors you. "of course, anything for you."

your heart flutters from his words, but you slightly turn yourself away, glancing down. you two were no longer dating, so there was no need to get butterflies over him again. "well, thanks again. you must have a busy day tomorrow."

"do you buy any chance still have that photo of you when you were out with mirko?" hawks asks suddenly causing you to glance up at him. "you know, when you two went out a couple weeks ago? you were all dolled up and honestly, just super pretty?" hawks says boldly with a sheepish grin.

"why are you asking?"

"send it my way."

you gawked at him, "you want me to send you a picture of me? we're not dating anymore, that would be weird!" hawks could only shrug, "okay, that's simple then. let's go on a date." you gawked even further, "what is going on inside of that bird brain? all this for a photo?"

"i want to be the one who takes those photos of you. i want to be the reason you get all dolled up. i know i messed up, (name). i've been changing the way i talk to my fans because i understand how i hurt you. could you give me another chance to make it better? i promise i will treat you the way you deserve to be treated."

this was coming too suddenly, your wounds were just starting to heal.

"you...you don't mean that, hawks," you say dejectedly as you back up to sit on mirko's couch. "i'm scared."

"he means it you know?" mirko pops out of the hallway suddenly and stands with her arms crossed against her chest as she stares at the two of you. "he's been asking me for that picture nonstop since he saw it online."

"but he really does love you still, (name) and i know you still love him too. go ahead and give it another shot, i'll be here to kick him to the curb if he does anything bad to you." she encourages, making you glance back towards hawks.

"promise?" your eyes are sparkly from the tears that had glossed over your eyes and hawks gives you a confident nod, "promise. i'll pick you up at six tomorrow?"

you couldn't help your growing smile, "yeah, i'll be waiting."

- e x t r a -

as hawks flew off towards his apartment, the notification ding of his phone went off causing him to take a look. you had sent him a text!

opening the message his eyes widen from the photo you sent, it was the cute pic of you all dolled up!

"i'm so in love!" he shouts loudly in the sky.

#hawks #hawks x reader #hawks x you #mha x reader #my hero academia x reader #bnha #bnha x reader #boku no hero academia x reader #keigo x reader #takami keigo x reader #keigo takami x reader

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love-killed-the-superstar · 4 years

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i finally finished cass week!! its been lots of late nights but so much fun. thank you everyone whos been reading these. tonight i have some real good cassunzel/unknighted dream content for yall, so enjoy if that’s your thing

CASSANDRA APPRECIATION WEEK DAY 7 - FINALE

How is one supposed to feel, showing up at their girlfriend's wedding to somebody else?

Cassandra has been through the whole spectrum of emotions in the run up to it all. There's been joy, of course, and in abundance – these are her best friends, taking that next important step in their lives. While she... takes her own next step. Alone.

She has poured over detailed illustrations Rapunzel sent her in letters of the various wedding patterns she's considered. It's amazing how much input Cass has had in the whole thing, considering it isn't even her wedding, especially when also factoring in the distance between them. She's helped pick out the flavour of punch while hunched over a campfire on a cold night; she's backed up Rapunzel's desire to forego shoes, even in the royal cathedral, in her underthings while her clothes hung up to dry after she got caught in a flash flood.

Half the time it doesn't feel like her place, and she withholds her opinion. Or she'll write back something along the lines of 'you should ask your future husband, not me'. But then Rapunzel counters that with 'well, you're like my future wife, so your opinion is equally important'. And... well, that just leads to other emotions that are even harder for her to deal with.

The flip side of the coin is the disappointment she feels, knowing that Rapunzel can only marry one person and Eugene is the clear winner, in both the royal family's favour and the court of public opinion. After all, who would come to a wedding where the princess marries the very person that nearly destroyed the kingdom? Cassandra can't fault Rapunzel for making the choice to marry Eugene; he was in Rapunzel's life first, he's begrudgingly grown on the people of Corona despite his shady past, and during the mess that she caused he stepped up and took responsibility. He loves her. He'll do anything for her.

She's happy for them, really. But the whole situation still feeds back into this complex she's worked so hard to overcome these last couple years. Marriage just a... a ceremony, a piece of paper, a legal contract. A wedding is a big, over-dramatic party that she would never in a million years want to take part in anyway. And hasn't she always told herself, since she was an angry little kid rolling her eyes at the Day of Hearts' puppet show, that romance, matrimony, all that bullshit, is something she's never wanted for herself?

It's petty, plain and simple, to have such a sting of jealousy at the idea of Rapunzel and Eugene marrying. They deserve their happy ending! More than anybody! Cass will just... have to figure out a way to be okay with that. Chasing destiny on the open road is her happy ending anyway, and that's no life for a... what would she even be? Princess consort? Duchess?

...Fine. She doesn't need a title or status to be happy. So much of her identity has been clinging to words other people might use to describe her and it can only end if she wishes it so.

All the same – it would be nice, just for a day, if she could be Rapunzel's bride.

…

Cass doesn't mean to show up late to the ceremony, although she's sure that Lance will slide up and make some comment at the reception anyway. Maybe she just didn't want to get up that morning. Maybe it's because she stayed up late last night, camping out at the lagoon, thinking about the vows they took all those years ago. After all, wasn't that modelled after a private wedding, between the two rulers who bound their kingdoms together? A marriage that is recognised in Corona's history books? By extension, aren't her and Rapunzel already married, in their own way?

That should be enough.

By the time Fidella and Owl rouse her, their casual annoyance morphing into urgency as the sun rises higher in the sky, she already knows she won't make it on time. She won't even have time to change, after Rapunzel spent weeks pestering her for her clothing measurements to have an appropriate outfit tailored. Thankfully, Raps knows her well enough not to commission a dress.

Cass rides like she's never ridden before, determined to get there before the vows. What will Rapunzel and Eugene think of her if they look out to the pews and see she isn't there, after all she's done to convince them she's fine with it all? She promised herself, the moment she held the pale lilac wedding invitation in her hands six months prior, that she wouldn't ruin their big day for them. Even if she shows up with windswept hair and yesterday's travelling clothes on, she has to be there, cheering them on.

With her and Fidella's combined determination they make the journey from the lagoon to the castle walls in record time. Standing at the gate, she purses her lips in annoyance as Stan and Pete, in a frustrating display of competence, ask for proof of ID and her invitation.

“Stan, Pete, this is ridiculous. You know me. You've known me since I was a kid.”

“Sorry, Cassandra,” Stan says sagely, as she begrudgingly hands over her Corona citizen identification card. “Rules are rules, and this is a big day for the princess.”

“Besides, we need to be on the lookout for shapeshifters,” Pete adds on, holding her invitation to the light to search for the subtly printed Corona emblem on the paper. “It's a recent thing we've been told to watch out for. A couple years ago there was an incident at the goodwill festival, see.”

“Pete, that was also me,” Cass says flatly.

“Never can be too careful,” he sighs, shaking his head. “Captain's orders and all. We good here, Stan?”

“Yup, everything looks legitimate. Welcome back to Corona, Cassandra!” Stan says, reverting back to his cheerful disposition.

“I am going to kill Eugene for this. Figuratively, of course.”

Stan motions for the gates to open, and as they do, a narrow stream of what looks to be wine rushes past Fidella's hooves. She moves aside slightly, snorting a little in confusion.

“Eww,” mutters Pete, exchanging a confused look with Stan before clearing his throat. “Well, you'd better hurry to the wedding if you don't want to miss the vows!”

“Yeah. Thanks.” Cass wrinkles her nose a little at the trail of wine leading across the bridge, eyes widening as it becomes apparent that there is much more where that came from. As the gates swing shut once again, Cass wonders to herself what the fuck they have just walked into.

The whole kingdom looks to be a mess. There are lanterns flying everywhere, and between them there are doves. Passing through the lower town, it looks like there's been some sort of roof collapse at the old tar works, and the stream of wine gradually becomes a shallow river. Fidella does her best to step around the mess, but it's nearly impossible; even the houses lining the street have been doused. At this rate, the reception will be an extremely sober affair.

Cass picks her way through the winding streets leading up to the palace, passing by a few torn up carts selling imitation merchandise of Rapunzel's wedding attire. She can't help but scoff at the broken shoe cart. As if Raps would wear shoes, even to her own wedding.

The crowd, all dressed in their Sunday bests, look shaken to their cores when she finally reaches the courtyard. The tables that were laid out for the reception are overturned, there is soup everywhere, and no one knows quite what to do with themselves.

She approaches a guard, looking flustered as he tries to set a nearby table upright, and asks, “Uh, what happened here?”

“Some – some horse burst through in a frenzy,” he explains, shaking like a leaf. “It, uh, from a distance it kinda looked like Maximus.”

Cassandra's brow furrows. “Is everything okay?”

“There are no reports of a disturbance in the throne room,” the guard continues. “But as you can see, the decorations have all been tarnished.”

“Yeah, I can see that. Look, I won't keep you, I just need access to the throne room. I have an invitation here, signed by the princess...”

After an excruciating second ID check (she was seriously going to maim Eugene for introducing this ridiculous 'shapeshifter' check) Cass is granted access to the venue, and figuring it's probably best not to draw attention to her tardiness, she slips in through one of the side entrances, with its door propped open to let in some cool air on such a hot day.

Cass hops down from Fidella's back, scratching the side of her head affectionately as Owl swoops down to take her place. He hoots at her curiously.

“Yeah, I don't know what the fuck just went down either,” Cass whispers. “I'm sure we'll find out later. For now, let's just not make a scene?”

Fate has other plans, however. She makes it barely two steps past the doorway before almost being bowled over by a runaway eight-tier wedding cake.

“Woah!” she gasps, stepping out of the way just in time to avoid getting a face full of cake. She reaches around, gripping the sides of the trolley to try and keep it from rolling all the way outside. Fidella steps in to help, blocking the exit with her body, and Cass heaves a sigh of relief as the trolley grinds to a halt, the cake wobbling precariously for several painful seconds before stabilising. Owl hoots in victory and Cass exhales loudly.

“Oh thank god. That could have been a disaster.”

“...Hey, where's the cake?” a voice, unmistakably Eugene's, calls from beyond the edge of the corridor. Cass cringes. So much for quietly watching from the sidelines.

Steeling herself, she slips around the back of the trolley and with some effort, pushes it around the corner and into the throne room. There's an audible ripple of uncertainty through the pews, as the confused guests mutter to one another about why some windswept vagrant is wheeling out a cake that was already in position at the beginning of the ceremony. There's a hoot of laughter (definitely Lance) at Cassandra's dishevelled appearance, a sharp “is that Cassandra?” from three rows away (her dad's voice, for sure), and a few giggles she's guessing are coming from Kiera and Catalina's direction. She can't even bear to look at the king and queen.

Instead, she sees two figures in white. Eugene, looking proud as can be in his very expensive wedding garb that he bragged about to her in several letters... and Rapunzel, face framed by the soft lace veil behind her, looking so beautiful Cass could cry. Her surprise melts into pure glee, and if it weren't for the colossal cake in between, Cass knows Raps would be launching herself at her right then and there, present company be damned.

She passes Max and Pascal and almost chokes. That would explain the sorry state of the tar works' roof, at least. From somewhere behind, she hears Fidella stifle a snort of laughter.

“Well well well,” Eugene says, with a click of the tongue and a lopsided grin. “If it isn't our favourite little gatecrasher.”

It's his teasing, strangely enough, that helps her to find her voice in front of all these people. “Well geez, somebody had to stop this cake from rolling down the hill.”

…

The wedding reception ends up being less of a party and more of a clean-up operation after Max and Pascal's prior mischief, but when the venue has been tidied up and the main courses have been served, Cass slips away right as the king stands up to give a tearful toast. If she times it right she can change into the outfit Rapunzel has had tailored for her and return before the speech is concluded, no problem.

At this point, her room is basically an empty shell with a bed and a wardrobe, so it takes no time to lay out her new outfit ready. Glancing around the empty husk of a room while she starts to undress, Cass wonders when exactly Corona stopped feeling like her home. Maybe about the time she realised it was the people, not the place, that she gravitated back to time and time again?

The new suit doesn't look all too different to Eugene's, minus his father's sash. It's white, with similar detailing, and even some of the same gold accents on the collar. Cass blanches a little the longer she stares at it. God, she's going to look like she's trying to steal his thunder. On his fucking wedding day.

“Why did I let you do this, Raps?” she groans. She can't deny once wearing it, however, that it makes her look really good.

She stares at her reflection in the mirror on her closet door, trying for a smile. This whole situation feels bizarre, and she still can't stop thinking about how stunning Rapunzel looks in her wedding dress.

I wish she was marrying me instead.

The admission, even inside her head, is enough to make her growl in frustration, slap her forehead.

“Enough,” she grits out. “You are going to go out there and be supportive and happy for them because this is their day and you love them so much. Enough throwing yourself a pity party, Cass.”

With nothing else to say to herself, she ties back her hair, shaggier from her foregoing a haircut in quite some time, neatly plaiting it and securing it with a short piece of string from her satchel. Pulling a pair of white gloves on to tie the whole outfit together, she glares at her reflection for a few seconds to compose herself before heading back towards the venue.

“Looking dapper, Cass,” Lance mutters in greeting as she slides up beside him, trying to pretend that she hadn't slipped out in the middle of the king's big speech. He glances over at Eugene, sat beside Rapunzel at the front table reserved for the royals, and then back to her again. “Tell me, which one of you is the groom again?”

“Don't you dare draw anyone's attention to this, Lance. Raps has no idea how petty this makes me look to onlookers.”

He bursts out laughing, which quickly dissolves into a fake cough to deter the few people who turn to stare at him disapprovingly. “Haha, hmm. Uh, you know that was definitely intentional on her part, right? She wants you to feel included.”

“Included? I just feel like I'm third-wheeling a wedding.”

“Isn't that exactly what's happening?”

She groans quietly, before bursting into polite applause as the king embraces Rapunzel tightly and then raises his glass, before taking his seat. Edmund rises, and she can already see Eugene looking nervous at the weird shit he's about to start spouting to the unsuspecting audience.

“I came back here to support them, not to upstage Eugene at the after party.” She chews her lip. “Maybe I should change. D'you think I should change?”

“Look, Cass, Eugene knew about the matching suits ahead of time. If he had a problem with it he would have said something, believe me.” Lance grins and shakes his head. “I was just messing with you before about the third wheel stuff. You're their equal, don't you get that? This might as well be your day too.”

Cass pinches the bridge of her nose. “Don't say this stuff to me, Lance, or I'll seriously start feeling depressed. I need a drink. Is there any booze left, or is it all out on the street?”

“Unless they're planning on breaking out the communion wine, I think we're out of luck.”

“Damn it. Maybe I should just hide in the bathroom for the next six hours.”

As the toasts conclude, Rapunzel and Eugene are called to the dance floor for the first wedding dance. The orchestra rise as Arianna removes the train from Rapunzel's hair, and she and Eugene make their way to the centre of the venue with their hands clasped. Rapunzel's eyes search in the crowd as she walks, finally locking in on Cass as the conductor motions for the band to play.

“I love you,” Rapunzel mouths, and Cass weakly nods before losing Rapunzel's attention to the sweep of the music and the arms of her new husband.

…

“Cass!”

Rapunzel finds her on the steps, having put some distance between her and the rest of the party about an hour ago. After a couple hours of shit-talking bad dancers with Lance from the sidelines, catching up briefly with her father, and downing about a third of the punch bowl in an attempt to avoid conversations with people, Cassandra is all partied out.

Rapunzel's hair is mussed from hours of relentless dancing as she patters down the steps and flops down beside her, uncaring if the dust from foot traffic leaves a mark on the fabric.

“Hey, newlywed. You having a good time?”

“Of course! Oh, Cass, aren't the orchestra just wonderful? They play the classics, for my parents, but the upbeat stuff was a great surprise! When I'm queen, we'll dance like this at every function, mark my words!” The gleam in her eyes only brightens as she adds, “Besides... I keep stopping mid-step and thinking, I'm married now. I get to spend the rest of my life with Eugene. Isn't that just – just wonderful?”

“It is.” Cass offers her the warmest smile she can muster. “I'm so happy for you, Raps, really. You and Fitzherbert are going to have a great life.”

“All three of us are.” Rapunzel scoots closer and rests her head against Cassandra's shoulder. If only time could stop right now, Cass wishes silently, she wouldn't ask for anything ever again. “Cass, you are both my future. It's been so hard to find time to be with you today, and it's driving me crazy! You deserved to be up there with us today, you know?”

“But Corona law doesn't allow it,” Cass says softly, as if saying the words delicately will shelter her heart from fully feeling the weight of them. Rapunzel swallows and nods.

“Mhm. Yeah, it... it doesn't.”

She reaches for Cassandra's hands and squeezes them in her own. Cass can feel Rapunzel's wedding band dig slightly into her index finger, and tears spring to her eyes.

“Well,” she forces herself to say, “it's okay. If you had to marry either one of us, it should be Eugene. He's the more stable presence in your life, after all. He can help you keep this place afloat, while I – while I'm off travelling.”

“Let's not talk about this,” Rapunzel whispers, a pleading tone creeping in. “This... this should be a happy day for us, Cass! The start of something new!”

“You're right. Raps, this is a happy day. And – and I mean it, Rapunzel, I am so happy for you both. My best friends get to be happy together forever. Why wouldn't I be?”

She stands up quickly and holds her hand out, pulling Rapunzel to her feet. Rapunzel stares at her for a heartbeat, face clouded with some emotion too tumultuous to unpack in this moment, before reaching over and wiping a tear away as it spills over from Cass's eyes.

“I know you are.” Her face softens into a smile. “Hey, dance with me? Please?”

“I don't know, Raps...”

“Just one dance?” she asks, biting her lip. “I'm about ready to turn in, but... it wouldn't feel right if I didn't share at least one dance with the woman I love the most.”

“That's sweet of you. How will the man you love the most feel if I take the last dance?” Cass asks, quirking an eyebrow as Rapunzel begins tugging her up the steps by her wrist. “And your father, for that matter?”

“Oh, Eugene won't mind, silly,” Rapunzel laughs airily, marching them both towards the centre of the dance floor as other party-goers begin to stare. “And my father isn't dancing with you, I am.”

There are some whispers as they begin to dance slowly, stepping in time to a waltz; it's more of an open secret than anything, the way Rapunzel and Cassandra are with each other, but it still feels pretty brazen all the same. Cass is a bit rusty on her feet, having gone years since she last danced ballroom-style, but as she stares lovingly at Rapunzel's face, counting the smattering of freckles on her nose and seeing her own flustered face in Rapunzel's eyes, she realises it doesn't really matter. The steps are bullshit; everything is, except the hand clasped in hers and the other curled around the back of her neck.

Out of the corner of her eye Cass spies Lance, grin a mile wide, offering his hand out to Eugene. They start their own dance, a little clumsier, a little more comical than their own. Rapunzel giggles as they waltz past, Lance almost knocking into them as they spin.

“See? Eugene and Lance can make their own fun.”

Cass smiles back, exhaling slowly. There are still a few people watching with rapt interest: Queen Arianna, looking misty-eyed; Cassandra's father, fidgeting a little, his anxieties no doubt feeding off of the nervousness in Cass's own body language; a little girl she doesn't even know, clad in a waistcoat and pants, looking like she's seeing someone who mirrors herself for the first time. But as interest in their dance begins to wane, so do her fears.

“Dancing still isn't really my thing,” she confesses, as they begin to slow down. “It feels... awkward.”

“Oh.” Rapunzel pouts. “But, you know, gotta try everything once?”

“Of course. I can stand it if I'm with you.” She leans in to press a kiss to Rapunzel's forehead, but thinks better of it, leaning back again. “I, uh... yeah, it might be time for me to turn in, Raps.”

Rapunzel's smile fades a little in disappointment, but she nods. “Yeah. It's about time for us to leave too, so...”

“You're leaving tonight?”

“Yeah. No time like the present, right?” Rapunzel winds her arm around Cassandra's, clinging on as she calls over the din of the music. “Eugene! Are you ready?”

“Sunshine, I'll be right with you,” he calls back, in the midst of being dipped by Lance. Once he's back on his feet and says his goodbyes in a bone-crushing hug, he joins the two of them as they make their way to the edge of the dance floor.

“Is... is it okay for us to just leave like this?” Cass asks suspiciously. “You two don't need to make some kind of big announcement, or anything?”

“...Nah,” Eugene says after a long pause, exchanging a look with Rapunzel. “We can let the king and queen deal with that, right? Besides, the ship won't wait forever.”

Before Cass can protest further, Eugene slides up to the other side of her and links his arm in hers, and the two effectively march her down the steps and towards the docks.

“This is lovely and all, but I can't help the feeling that you two are kidnapping me,” she points out, as the three of them march on in silence.

“What! No! We – we just think you should see the boat! It's really gorgeous, and there's apparently an ice sculpture on board,” Rapunzel gabbles, starting to wax poetic in her ear as Eugene stands on the other side of her, equally enthusiastic.

“And get this – they didn't screw up my nose this time!! That's a huge deal, you absolutely cannot miss it-”

This weird pimping of the boat continues as they follow the path down to the harbour, greeting a few puzzled guards on the way as they tag along for protection. Cass can't shake the feeling that something extremely weird is going on. Eugene and Rapunzel have been shooting her odd looks all day, and she thought it was because her complicated feelings were obvious to everyone around her, but as they get closer and the ship comes into view, it definitely feels like there's a bigger story than that.

The boat is beautiful – the wood is dyed a deep cherry red, and the sails are the same rich purple as the Coronan flag, complete with the golden sun crest. On board, true to their words, is an ice sculpture, but as she strains her eyes, the sculpture depicting the happy couple looks suspiciously like a happy throuple, instead.

“Raps... Eugene... what exactly is going on here?”

“Oh, you'll see,” Eugene says under his breath, while Rapunzel giggles gleefully and gives no further answer.

Trunks of their belongings are already being loaded onto the ship when they arrive, and Cass notices a familiar satchel and carry on pack nestled beside one of Rapunzel's cases.

“Are – are those my things? Guys, what is going on?”

Finally, the two of them release her arms and she takes a step back, eyes darting all over as she tries to comprehend what the fuck is happening right now.

“Cassandra,” Rapunzel begins, clasping her hands together joyfully, “we're boarding the ship for our honeymoon, and... we were hoping you would like to come with us.”

She stares. “...But why?”

“Why?” Eugene scoffs. “Why indeed, Cass, let me think. You're our best friend, you're in a relationship with my wife – something as intimate as a honeymoon doesn't just happen with two out of three when it comes to us, you understand?”

“But – but this wedding isn't for us, it's for you,” splutters Cass, still wondering if she knocked her head at some point and woke up in a parallel universe, where things like a honeymoon for three were commonplace. He rolls his eyes, hard.

“Cass, look at us. We're wearing the same freaking suit. You do the math.”

“And we had our own wedding dance,” Rapunzel chimes in. “Even if you didn't really like it.”

“All right, just... stop, okay? Give me a minute to think.” Cass is starting to feel dizzy. “I – I know you both love me – in different ways,” she adds sharply, as Eugene opens his mouth. “But this is... pretty crazy. Even for us. I mean, people will talk about this, guys.”

Rapunzel and Eugene exchange amused glances. “Cass, everyone who knows us knows, and everyone who doesn't have a pretty good guess about what goes on between us three,” Rapunzel says slowly. “You don't have to worry about that anymore, do you understand?”

“It's different now!” Cassandra protests, shaking her head in pure, unfiltered amazement. “You two are married now and it's – adulterous. Probably. Maybe even treasonous? God, my head hurts.”

“So it's not a cut and dry situation, that's fine!” Eugene throws up his hands in exasperation. “But damn it, Cass, you're acting like this is the end of days. If you stuck around more than a few days at a time, you'd realise that the people of Corona really don't care as much as you think they do.”

Cass opens and closes her mouth a few times, unsure of where to even start with protesting everything they've been saying to her. She loses the train of thought anyway once she lays eyes on Rapunzel, with a desperate look in her eyes as she watches Cass, fidgeting with her hands.

“Cass,” she says quietly, taking a tentative step forward, “we can't force you to come with us, but we would really like you to. So we can right this – this rigid law that stops us all from being happy.”

“...Okay, now you've definitely lost me.”

Rapunzel makes a frustrated noise in her throat, running her fingers back through her hair and resting both hands on the back of her neck, like she so often does when she's trying to think.

“Cassandra – once we are outside of Coronan waters, the laws don't apply anymore.”

“...And?”

Eugene half-laughs, half-coughs, and Rapunzel shoots him a pointed look before continuing more gently, “And, when we're out at sea, certain... marriage laws... don't apply either.”

She bites her lip, hoping this will be enough to get the gears turning in Cassandra's head, but she stares on blankly.

“Oh, for christ's sake!” Eugene slaps his forehead and pulls Cass along to stand beside Rapunzel, staring them both down with folded arms. “Cass, I don't know how many times we have to spell it out for you, but this has always been your wedding day too. If you want it to be, anyway.”

The words finally seem to hit home, and she stares between them with eyes as wide as a deer being stalked.

“What?” she squeaks.

“Cassandra, I have wanted to marry the both of you for as long as this has even been a conversation,” Rapunzel explains, and her voice shakes a little with her next words. “Of course this is crazy, everything we do together is crazy! And, Cass? If you don't want to get on the boat and do this... I'll accept that. But – but I hope, after all that we've been through together, that you want to be my wife as much as I want to be yours.”

Time moves slowly as the weight of these words sink in, and Cass glances between Eugene, who is beginning to look emotional just in the presence of this proposal, and Rapunzel, laying her heart on the line just to show Cass how much she matters.

“You'd really do that? For me?”

“With you,” Rapunzel corrects, mouth splitting into a grin as her eyes gloss over with tears. “Cass, I would sail to the ends of the Earth if it meant I could marry you when we get there.”

“Oh god,” Eugene says in a hushed voice. He turns away, hand over his eyes. “You're both killing me here.”

“Can it, Fitzherbert,” Cass says on instinct, before a laugh bubbles up from her throat. “Raps, I – what do I even say to that?!”

“Say yes already, oh my god!”

“Eugene!” Rapunzel shakes her head, giggling helplessly. “Sorry, proposals get to him.”

Cass gives a watery laugh. “I'll bet. What's he going to do when we actually get married, huh?”

Rapunzel blinks a few times, then gasps in delight. “So it's a yes?!”

All Cass can do is nod before Rapunzel throws herself at her, hugging her tight enough to choke. Even with all the oxygen being squeezed from her lungs, Cass feels like she can breathe for the first time all day.

There's the sound of a throat being cleared behind them, and they turn to see a guard looking a little awkward to interrupt.

“Excuse me. Um... the smaller bags, should we load them on the ship, or...?”

“Yes, you should,” Cass says, barely able to contain her cheer. “Wherever these two go, I'm going with them.”

The guard shrugs, quickly turning back to the remaining luggage, and Cass cups Rapunzel's jaw, pressing a quick kiss to her lips before hiding her face in the top of Rapunzel's hair.

“Aww, don't be shy! I loved that!” Rapunzel giggles, pulling her in closer. “I loved that so much. Wherever we go, you're coming too. Yep... that's going in my journal for sure.”

“No,” groans Cass, still giggling despite herself. “Please, no record of anything sappy I say ever again.”

“Too late. See, you should know by now, Cass. Everything mushy we ever say will be immortalised in our wife's notebooks for the rest of our lives,” Eugene sighs, slinging an arm around her. Cass nods, keeping close as they steer her towards the boarding plank.

Our wife. It feels too fucking good to be real.

“This isn't a dream, right?” she asks suddenly, as they're halfway up the plank. “This is really happening?”

“Of course it's real, art can't imitate life!” scoffs Eugene, looking a little offended. “This face can't simply be replicated in dreams, Cassandra.”

“No one is saying anything about your face, Eugene,” Rapunzel sighs, shaking her head fondly.

“You know what, Fitzherbert? You've got a point. If this were a dream your nose would be a totally different shape, for a start.”

“I don't get it! How hard can it be to draw somebody's nose in accurate proportion to their face?!”

As they take their first steps onto the boat and the plank is removed, they turn to see a few familiar faces have gathered. The parents have come to wave their children off, in a quiet moment of finality before the next chapter begins. Arianna waves to them, her aura simply overflowing with joy, Frederic watches on with a stiffer wave, clearly still coming to grips with what's about to happen once the boat leaves Corona. Edmund, stood off to the side, is loudly asking Hamuel why their good friend is tagging along for the journey.

A little further back, Cassandra's father watches on. Upon first glance, she freezes; Rapunzel's arm is still holding her in close, and she nods towards him, trying for a smile. He nods back, slowly at first, before raising his arms to wave.

He is called over by Arianna and sheepishly joins her, his eyes never fully leaving Cass as he does so. Overwhelmed, she glances down at Rapunzel, who is leaning with her head against her shoulder, still beaming and waving at her parents.

“My father knew about this, then?” she asks quietly. Rapunzel shrugs, a shy smile on her face.

“I know we don't need it, but I wanted his blessing. I wanted him to know that you're loved, and you're gonna live a long life and be okay.”

The regal trill of trumpets fill the air, as the small cluster of guards on the dock stand to attention. A few words are read from a prepared scroll, carried away by the ocean breeze before Cass can hear, and then suddenly they're moving. The faces of their parents are growing smaller, the stretch of ocean growing larger, and Cass exhales shakily before turning to Rapunzel and Eugene.

“I think I'm going to puke,” she confesses.

“What?!” squeaks Rapunzel, alarmed.

“Well, now would be a terrible time to tell us you get seasick,” Eugene jokes, clapping her on the back. “Seriously though. You okay?”

“I'm fine. I just... realised how much of what was said happened in front of all those strangers. And then our parents. God, I'm gonna jump.”

“Yeah, no jumping,” Eugene says firmly, tugging her away from the boat's edge by her shoulders. “How long until we're out of Coronan waters.”

“Less than an hour.” The tremors are back in Rapunzel's voice again.

“And there are... aha! Three hours until the clock strikes midnight. You're in luck, ladies. If we play our cards right, this day will go down in history as both our anniversaries. How's that sound, huh?”

“Sounds like everything I've dreamed of,” Rapunzel sighs, melting against Cass. “Doesn't it feel good just to be here and not having to hide it?”

“I mean, we're embarking with a very small crew for a private ceremony outside of Coronan waters,” Cass points out. “Feels pretty hidden to me.”

Rapunzel pouts. “Ah, you're right.”

“You know... I think it's better this way. I wouldn't want it to be some public affair anyway,” Cass says quickly. “But yeah, this still feels like I'm in some sort of fever dream.”

“Want me to pinch you to be sure?”

“If you pinch me I will kill you. And hey, what was all this about a shapeshifter check at the gates, huh, Fitzherbert? I missed your wedding vows just so you could mess with me?!”

“Oh, that. I thought it would be funny!”

The ship sails off, disappearing into the evening sky, and even as she's bickering with Eugene and being held back by an exasperated Rapunzel, Cass can't help believing that this might be the start of her own happily ever after, after all.

#cassandra appreciation week #cassandra week #tangled the series #tts #cassunzel #unknighted dream #tts cassandra #rapunzel #eugene fitzherbert

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peachyteabuck · 4 years

Text

eye on the prize

summary: commission for astrid, who asked for chris evans x reader interview fluff.

pairing: chris evans x reader

words: 3,006

trigger warnings: RPF, slow burn, heavy flirtation, idiots in love, nondescript mentions of misogyny in the media as a business, a likely poorly reconstructed timeline (time fake and reality is a construct!)

ask box / masterlist / commission info / ko-fi

The hotel bed is large, big enough for four of you. The blankets are thick and the soft, the pillows a perfect balance of structured but plush. Sunbeams stream onto the mused sheets, warming your face. It’s nice, but only as nice as the calm before a major tropical storm can be. As your phone alarm blares next to you, you start to wonder if being caught in a category five hurricane would be better than press junkets.

A whole day talking to people about a movie you made months ago that you know jack shit about. Sometimes you have nightmares about giving a book report on a novel you’ve never even opened (you’re how old? And high school is still haunting you? Jesus, you need to go back to therapy) that cause you to break out in a cold sweat and kick all the covers from your bed and buy a bunch of stuff online to distract yourself from your racing heart and shaking hands.

Still, those are never as bad as interviewers asking about character arcs and plotlines and your relationship with actors you’ve barely (if ever) met and whatever else a normal interviewer would ask a normal interviewee when all you know is your character, the fact that she does shit with magic, and she’s Dr. Strange’s daughter. Anything other than that is anyone’s guess.

Your stylist and makeup artists are the ones to eventually drag you out of bed and plop you into hair and makeup after squeezing you into an incredibly tight pair of jeans and a non-controversial sweater. The forty-five minutes are a complete blur, but then again, nothing feels real until Sebastian hands you a large coffee in a travel cup that bares no logo or other kind of copywritten signifier – your knight in shining…cardboard? What are travel coffee cups even made of? Paper? Can paper even “shine?”

You’re nearly purring when the taste of caramel macchiato burns your tongue. “Ah. Thanks, Seb. I appreciate it.”

Sebastian shrugs, sipping at his own drink masquerading as generic brand. “No problem. I didn’t want you to bite an interviewer’s head off this morning. Or worse, mine.”

You play-hit him in the face and laugh with him, making small talk and trying to kill the time before the mind-numbingly long day really begins. You’re halfway through a rant about the woes of make up artists trying to put you in a full face of makeup to a man who barely has to put on concealer, the fucking asshat, when Chris makes an appearance.

“Hey, guys,” he’s is also drinking coffee from the unmarked travel cups. He looks you up and down before taking another sip. “You look really nice today.”

You blush, smoothing out your sweater – one of the color-blocked ones that sits at the intersection of casual, feminine, and not-intimidating. “Thanks, you too.”

Sebastian’s about to say something snarky when someone wearing a headset calls upon the three of you.

“Let’s get going, people!” she calls, ushering you into three barely-comfortable seats. You’re between Chris and Sebastian, the sheer mass of them making you feel approximately three feet tall. It doesn’t take much to forget how large they both are – even if Sebastian doesn’t weight two hundred pounds anymore and Chris was able to tone down his exercise regime since finishing Infinity War, you still feel like you’re sitting at the big-kid table for the first time.

The first interviewer is from some YouTube channel you only know because your fourteen-year-old niece gushes about them every family dinner. The woman who sits in front of you is young, cute. Dresses trendy, dark eye makeup and red lips.

She’s nice, too, along with being knowledgeable about the projects of each of you. She banters with Sebastian about his seven million movies before turning to you.

The interviewer turns to you. “And you! You’re nominated for some pretty major awards!”

You smile wide, unable to help yourself. “Yeah, best actress and best original score.”

“That’s so cool,” Chris mumbles. You blush and pretend not to hear him as you speak again.

“It’s just super crazy,” you tell the interviewer. “Not even gonna lie. When I was younger, I would look at stars who like, cried when they found out they were nominated. Not even winning, just their name shows up on the ballot. But now I’m like, it’s me, two-time Grammy nominee! I was nominated for a Grammy, twice!”

Sebastian chimes in, laughing. “When we were at bunch together, I got there early and the caterer showed up and they were like, we’re here for the two-time Grammy nominee?”

“You had a brunch?” The interviewer asks.

You nod. “Yeah, I bunch of the Avengers cast and the cast from my last movie were in my hometown, which is super rare, so I hosted this giant brunch-”

“As one does,” Sebastian chimes in with a crooked smile.

You nearly hit him. “Yes! As I do! I wanted to see all my friends, whom I love, so I host a brunch. Sue me! Anyway…I hosted this brunch and invited a bunch of people over. Just a bunch of my favorite food from my favorite restaurants. Everyone I’d wanted to see for such a long time was there. It was amazing.”

The interviewer paints a faux frown across her face, looking at the man on your right. “Chris, you look very sad.”

“I didn’t get invited to the brunch,” Chris frowns. Unlike the woman in front of you, he looks genuinely sad. A twinge of pain bounces in your ribcage, and you rub his cardigan-clad back

“You were out doing Broadway shit!” you laugh. “You were halfway across the country!”

Chris continues to frown, staring at the printed-out pictures from the social medias of various guests. A few are from yours – you in a flowy sundress with your head thrown back laughing, a shot of you and a few of your friends from college drinking alcohol in the bright mid-afternoon sun. One you recognize from Sebastian’s Instagram, another from Hemsworth’s. A few from Twitter of a few of your non-movie-star friends. You look so happy in all of them, so beautiful in each shot. “I still wanted to be invited.”

You just roll your eyes. “Okay, call me when you’re in my region of the country and I’ll host a brunch,” You touch your forefinger to his nose. Chris blushes, profusely, in his cheeks and his ears. “just for you and me.”

You don’t hear much after that, too focused on Chris’ eyes meeting yours and his small smile. You’re taken aback by how sweet, tender he looks, and before you know it the interviewer is saying goodbye and the next one is taking her place.

It’s a man this time, a little older than the last one with artsy facial hair and a button hip. He mostly pays attention to the two men and soon your brain goes on battery-saver and you’re lost in your own thoughts.

Are hipsters still a thing? Is that what this guy is trying to be? Do hipsters even like Marvel? Is that too “mainstream for them?”

Eventually he asks a question about you, your recent entry into the Marvel Cinematic Universe, your music, your composing. You’d be happy to talk about your passions, of course you are, but the first genuine question of the interview is positing towards…not you. You’re about to tune everything out again, but then Chris speaks and you snap back to attention.

“It’s always interesting to meet people who bring something new to the art form, ya know? A huge part of acting is learning and evolving and all that, especially from other actors,” Chris avoids your gaze, and the gaze of everyone else, as he speaks. “If you stop learning, if you stop growing, what’s the point? Why would I do this job if I didn’t think it could change me for the better?”

There’s a moment of thick silence, the heavy weight of Chris’ introspective answer settling over the people in the room. It’s one of the things you lo-

It’s one of the things you enjoy most about Chris, how dedicated he is to acting as more than a job. It’s amazing, truly, how much he adores what he does. You could spend the rest of time with him, a plate of cheese, and a bottle of wine; listening to him talk about how he thinks of acting as an art, how that art can impact people and society, how actors have a responsibility to that art (that is, of course, after you mock him endlessly for Not Another Teen Movie and Fantastic Four).

You feel like a high schooler again, doodling your first and his last name in hearts in your math notebook with your favorite pink glitter pen. You’re an adult, why are you blushing red as a raspberry every time he says something smarter than a fast food order?!

The rest of the day goes down in a blur, the only time you start to care again when someone on the production staff calls for dinner (yeah, no lunch on press junket day. You can ask for a light snack, but you learned the hard way a full meal is “bad for your figure” and “makes you likely to burp on camera” and a bunch of other stuff you care very little about).

All three of you groan in happiness when you enter the room designated as craft, the thick smell of barbeque hitting you like a baseball bat. But a good baseball bat, though, like…one you ask to be hit with. Honestly, you have no idea what you’re talking about because you’re so hungry.

When you finally manage to scavenge food, Sebastian’s right behind you as you stare at a very delicious looking tray of pulled pork. Your plate is already full, but what if they take the food away? And then what if you get hungry later?

“You know he’s flirting with you, right?” he whispers as you watch the man in question scroll through Twitter on his phone. Chris is eating about the same thing you are, plus celery. You almost make a quip about it being “nature’s floss,” but then you realize that would be dumb because Sebastian definitely wouldn’t find it as funny as Chris would.

You shrug, picking up a French fry from your plate. “Yeah, but you were, too.”

He scoffs into his second Americano of the morning. “Nah. Not like that. He likes you! He like likes you!”

“He does not-“

“And you like-like him!” He boops you on the nose and pinches your cheek like some sort of grandmother who hadn’t seen her fifteen-year-old son since he was five. “My little baby has a cruuuush!” he coos while making small kissy noises.

You’re about to bite back about how you’re not that much younger than him, but then the sound guy on the other side of the meat tray glares at the both of you. Looks like, while Chris couldn’t hear your bickering from the across the room, this dude definitely could – and he’s not very happy about it.

“Sorry,” you both mumble, shrinking away from the persecuting techie and his judgmental eyes.

Sebastian only talks again when you find an unpopulated corner, devoid of prying eyes and anyone who could be annoyed with the two of you gossiping like high schoolers.

“You know I’m not wrong, right?” he says around a bite of crisp apple. What is up with this guy and fruit? Sure, he’s on a restrictive diet for a role to keep him from bulking up (something at the intersect of keto and vegetarian but able to eat lean meats) but he’s can’t eat like, the vegan stuff? Why must he always eat like rabbit in your presence? “Have you not seen what he says on Twitter?”

You scoff. “No, because I don’t have a Twitter. And neither do you!” You narrow your eyes accusingly. “How do you know what he posts?” Sebastian rolls his eyes. “I see screenshots on Instagram, first of all. Second, he could be complimenting your music on the inside of a cave. It’s about the principle.”

“That doesn’t make any sense,” you hiss. “Also, I’m done arguing with you about this. Let me find a cheeseburger and eat in peace. Is that too much a woman to ask, Sebastian!?”

He just laughs you off and lets you eat in peace, eventually getting his own food. Though, you suppose the meal was specially timed, because then Chris Evans is sitting next to you.

He’s about to say something, too, and you’re about to listen, but then you get called for an individual interview for a women’s health magazine and you have to leave him and you plate of food and fuck…you hate this job. A lot.

The interview is boring, once again, and the next time you have another coherent thought you’re taking the elevator back up to your hotel room and waving off your manager, who is telling you to be downstairs by seven tomorrow to catch your flight back home.

You’re just kicking off your heels when you hear a faint knock at the door. When you look through the peephole, you see a very sad-looking Christopher Evans. With his small frown and hunched shoulders, he looks like a kicked puppy; and even though all you want to do is take your bra off, you let him in.

He’s quiet for a moment before speaking as if he was a child preparing to be scolded.

“I lost my hotel key. And my backup got demagnetized.”

You bite back a laugh, trying to seem sympathetic. “Do you want to chill in here until security brings you another one?”

Chris nods solemnly as he steps through the threshold. “Thanks.”

Neither of you speak for a while, instead Chris looks around your quite messy (or “homey,” as you call it when you FaceTime your best friend and she scoffs at how easy you can make a room look like a hurricane tore through it) room and you…find an outfit for tomorrow?

You’re the first one to speak, only breaking the quiet after changing into fuzzy socks and sneakily taking off your lacey bra (and tucking it under the covers of the bed for you put away later).

“Well, that was excruciating,” you mumble. All you want to do is change into your biggest, most comfortable hoodie and your cotton panties and order room service and ignore humanity until you leave for a flight the next morning, but a man you’ve had a crush on since he appeared as Johnny Storm is right in front of you and after that talk with Sebastian your world is kind of shaken to its core and should you make a move? Is he the kind of guy to not like that? Would you want to be with a guy that doesn’t like that? What if he-

“Always are, I guess.” Chris interrupts your train of thought, saving it from going off the rails. When you at him he looks just as, if not more than, exhausted than you are. “That’s one of the things that you forget, I think. How hard it is to talk about these movies.”

You snort. Out of the corner of your eye, you can see Chris smile a little wider as you laugh. “Yeah. Other movies I can talk about like, characters and plots and shit. With these I live in constant fear I’m gonna pull a fucking Ruffalo and get my ass fired from the best paying gig I’ve ever had.”

Chris laughs with you, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Word.”

An awkward silence fills the room and you find something, anything to do to avoid his heavy gaze under those thick eyelashes and his thick beard that you just want to run your fingers through or his even softer hair that you want to mess up while you-

“Do you want to get dinner together sometime?” you blurt. You’re ready to take back the words as soon as you say them, wanting to backtrack or say “just friends” or “ha-ha, just kidding!” or something else that absolves you of non-platonic commitment.

By a long stretch of luck that you can’t even begin to thanks a long number of deities for, Chris doesn’t laugh at you or turn you down or even walk out of the room. He meets your gaze with excitement in his eyes and a smile wider than your home state. “I’d love to,” is all he says. It’s all either of you get to say before his phone rings loudly, and the name of the head of security flashes on his screen. He sighs loudly, apologizing as he takes it. Somehow, you feel more awkward as he turns away and answers the call. You fidget with your hands, with a loose thread on the sweater you’ve come to hate more than anything else in the world, with your phone. Nothing makes it easier to face Chris again once he hangs up.

“That was…,” he laughs lightly. Not laughing at you, maybe at life or how weird his life is, but never at you. “You know. They fixed my key and want to give it to me in person.”

You swallow and nod. “Yeah, understandable. I’ll, uh,” you clear your throat. “I’ll see you…”

Chris finishes for you. “How about we find a good restaurant near here after I’m confirmed to actually be me by the private security detail our employers hired to make sure no one kills us? We can have that second dinner I’ve heard you always eat late at night.”

Holy shit…he remembered that time you vaguely mentioned how much you enjoy staying up late and eating lots of food. It makes you blush as you respond.

“Yeah that sounds,” you sigh happily, smile just as big as his is. “That sounds great.”

#chris evans x reader #lukis does commissions #lukis writes stuff #chris evans imagine

184 notes · View notes

blueberryraindrops · 4 years

Text

Blueberry’s Ultimate TUA Masterlist

KEY

Fics are organised alphabetically (articles e.g. ‘the’ will not count)

mostly gen and fiego fics

Download links are EPUB files only

authors can feel free to send me a msg if they want their fics’ download link taken down

Links are now unavailable on PC due to a Tumblr link limit (I also had no idea this was a thing, but apparently it is?)

Regular updates can be expected as long as I remain in the fandom

Last Update: 15/10/2020

FANFICTION

☁︎ actions are worth a thousand words by achilleees { E }

→ Download Here

“I think it would be best if we keep up the ruse for a short while longer,” Five said. “For the sake of time-space continuity.”

“Oh, so Klaus was right before, huh?” Diego said. “The fabric of the universe unravels if my hairdresser knows we’re not boning?”

☁︎ Adventures In Childhood [Series] by just_a_sunflower_girl { G / Partially WIP }

→ Download Here

Five really should have guessed that something would go wrong. The universe hated him, it was an abject fact. And right now, Five hated the universe right back.

The commission turns Five into a four year old, hoping it will make him easier to kill.

☁︎ all dressed up and naked by cathect { E }

→ Download Here

The skirt hanging off of it is pleated and pale pink, with two white stripes near the hem— like a cheerleader might wear, Diego thinks wildly— and Five looks almost awed. Diego doesn’t want to assume anything by an expression alone, but he can’t quite help it.

Before he can stop himself, the words are tumbling out. “That would look good on you.”

Or, the one where diego fucks five while he's wearing a skirt.

☁︎ another cog in the murder machine by Ford_Ye_Fiji { T }

→ Download Here

Five finally gets the breakdown he deserves

☁︎ As I Want You to Hear Me by karcheri { E }

→ Download Here

“It’s hard to explain.”

“Try me.”

Five sighs.

“I’m trying to prove that our current timeline has branched off from it’s initial trajectory by such a large margin that it could only have been caused by the existence of unknown variables interrupting the timeline at non-linear points throughout history. I believe that we are living in...let’s call it timeline 2.0.”

“I don’t understand,” Diego says. Nutcase, he thinks. Insanely hot nutcase.

This time Five smirks at him, looking bratty and arrogant and entirely too sharp; “I know you don’t.”

Or: What I like to imagine alternate/Sparrow Academy timeline 2019 Five and Diego are up to

☁︎ Bizarre For You Is Normal For Us by pupeez4eva { G }

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“I think he’s talking to himself again,” Ashley said, leaning forward. “Okay yeah he is — oh my god, is that kid talking to the mannequin?”

Maggie shot a glance behind her. Yes, the boy was talking to the top half of a mannequin.

“I love working here,” Ashley breathed.

Wherein Klaus, Dave, Five and Dolores go on a double date, and people are confused and very concerned.

☁︎ Blink by Lady_Origami { G }

→ Download Here

When Five blinks, sometimes he's back in the world of ash and embers. It's hard to remember how to breathe when that happens. In which Klaus tries to play the role of supportive brother with Ben's help, and Five struggles more than he lets on.

☁︎ Blood like Lemonade by Ford_Ye_Fiji { T }

→ Download Here

Hunting high and low to seek revenge, Brand new moral code, got made reluctant renegade. Leaving empty souls when he avenged, Evil spirits flowed he drank the blood like lemonade.

Five's sordid past comes to light in, quite possibly, the most unpleasant way

☁︎ Bloom by jenpix { E }

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The first thing he noticed was the heat. A sudden, overwhelming heat. It started by his neck, his throat tightening, cutting off oxygen to his brain. The heat spread lower, permeating throughout his chest and abdomen, focusing and growing in his groin. Every inch of his skin was on fire. He couldn’t breathe; he couldn’t think. He needed something- anything- to relieve the ache that had abruptly settled in his bones. Lust utterly consumed him.

“Something’s wrong.” Diego concluded.

☁︎ Call Me Wild Thing by Electra_XT { E }

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“Diego’s been screwing guys who look exactly like you,” Klaus said.

“True,” Five said.

“He acts embarrassed when you encounter him with one of these lookalikes,” Klaus said.

“True,” Five said.

“You want to bang him,” Klaus said.

Five hesitated.

☁︎ Comes And Goes (In Waves) [Series] by hujwernoo { M }

→ Download Here

The apocalypse happens, Five arrives in the rubble, and his entire family is dead.

However, one of them has power over ghosts. And even if being dead seriously sucks sometimes, Klaus is going to be there for his brother.

☁︎ Dead Aren't Good Company, The by RosyPages { G }

→ Download Here

They’d been back in time for less than a month when their father forced Klaus back into the mausoleum.

But maybe this time his family can do the right thing.

☁︎ Details [Series] by VeteranKlaus { T }

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The last time Klaus saw his siblings was at Allison and Patrick's wedding. A lot had changed since then; including the not-so-accidental, irreversible loss of his sight.

There's no time to tell them that, though. Not with the return of their long-presumed-dead brother and the impending apocalypse. Plus, it doesn't matter. He's got Ben as a good seeing-eye ghost.

☁︎ Digging Up The Past by FiveUmbrellaAcademy { E / WIP }

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"You want to roleplay me being raped." Five muses, stirring his margarita. He plucks out the tiny umbrella and leaves it abandoned on the edge of the table.

Diego splutters, before glancing wildly over his shoulders.

Five and Diego are in a busy bar, and Diego had absentmindedly suggested Five looking particularly hot, especially when he's pliant, almost as if he's being -

"What the fuck? Shut up, Five." Diego hisses, eyes darting around. "Anyone can hear you."

Five says nothing.

Or: Unfortunately, the roleplay triggers a memory Five desperately wishes he'd forget.

☁︎ do androids dream of electric sheep? by the_crownless_queen { T }

→ Download Here

Number Four is crying, and Grace was made to care for those children.

In which Grace was created to protect the children of the Academy. Even, as it turns out, from their father.

☁︎ don't waste your time (or time will waste you) by rosewitchx { T }

→ Download Here

He was an old man. He is sixteen. Ben dies next week. How does he know that?

“I think I broke it,” Five stutters, and for the first time in her short life Vanya sees absolute terror in his eyes.

Or, Five travels back again. Something goes wrong.

☁︎ Dulce Periculum (Danger Is Sweet) by Anonymous { E }

→ Download Here

Klaus swallows heavily.

He brings up the hand that says “Goodbye” on the palm up to Five's hair and rakes his fingers through the strands. When Klaus is blessed with a high pitched whine, he knows he's done for.

or: Five wants something stronger than alcohol.

☁︎ Fighting (Pre)Determinism by chibi_tantei { T / WIP }

→ Download Here

They go back in time, determined to rewrite their own family history. Only problem is, only one of them looks the proper age to get near their younger selves.

Or, six months after Five stormed out, determined to time travel, he returns home. His siblings are happy to have him back, but he's acting differently...

(Or, Five goes undercover as himself. Twice the siblings should make saving the world easier, right? Yet somehow, he's only now realizing how many issues his family has to fix.)

☁︎ Five and Dave's Life Changing (Life Saving) Field Trip by neuronary { T }

→ Download Here

The little boy, who Dave could now see was not as little as he’d first thought, shoved a tin mug at him. “Drink this.”

Dave drank. It tasted sickly sweet and slightly citrus-y. “Who are you?”

“Five.” The boy’s scowl deepened at Dave’s confusion. “Klaus’ brother.”

Or, Five saves Dave's life to stop Klaus from moping. From Dave's perspective, a very grouchy, sleep-deprived twelve-year-old kidnaps him and he finds it much more entertaining than he should.

☁︎ Five And Diego Take Ukraine by yawarakai { G }

→ Download Here

It’s definitely her. She's around fifty, and striking – Diego can see where his brother gets his features. Light skin, grey eyes, hair dark and straight, slim. She’s a carbon copy of the boy standing before her.

“Da?” Five’s mother asks warily.

☁︎ Forward Trajectory by karcheri { M }

→ Download Here

“Ha ha,” the cop replies,” How’s your little troupe of nerds today anyways?”

His Professor groans, burying his face in the man’s neck and Nick winces. He should’ve anticipated that answer.

“That bad, huh?”

Or: Every semester students work themselves to the bone to score the highest mark on Professor Five's final project.

☁︎ Ghost Math by pinstripedJackalope { G }

→ Download Here

Number Five needs a new hobby now that the apocalypse is off. He decides to help Klaus--and in turn maybe he'll help himself.

☁︎ game of waiting, a by sky_blue_hightops { G }

→ Download Here

He was always the fastest. He always beat the others up the stairs, down the halls, through time and space. If there's one lesson he's learned, it's that there's always a finish line. A stopping place. Blood bubbles from between his fingers, and suddenly there's no air in his lungs.

Five jumps in front of a bullet. He calls it quick reflexes. Diego calls it stupidity.

☁︎ Gift-Wrapped by punk_rock_yuppie { E }

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Diego discovers Five's secret.

☁︎ god-intoxicated by chrysostomos (nantes) { E }

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Of all the things Diego expected to get dragged into this month, meeting a mythological witch, finding out Five is married, and rescuing him from his unwanted sun god husband were not on the list.

☁︎ handling myself by achilleees { E }

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Five pressed his lips together. “I advise against… touching them with your bare hands,” he said, taking the pills out of his pocket and dropping them into Diego’s gloved palm. “It would be unwise.”

In the light streaming from the Academy windows, Diego could see the sheen of sweat on his skin, trickling down his temple.

“Oh my god,” Diego said, starting to laugh.

☁︎ Happy Accidents by Starrstruck_64 { G }

→ Download Here

You’re making a mess, is what Diego wants to snap back. Instead he hears his mom’s voice clear as day say ‘boys will be boys’ and without thinking he’s moving on autopilot.

Diego can feel his hands clenching rhythmically at his sides before he’s moving forward to take the bowl from Klaus and ripping the apron off in one smooth motion. Discarding the bowl to the side he works on getting the strings untangled and slips the apron over his own clothes.

“Out.”

He has so much work to do. The pancake is beyond salvaging, the kitchen is a mess, and he’s fairly certain the batter is inedible.

Aka: the fic where Diego’s mothering instincts go wild

☁︎ haven't you heard of meditation? by rosesareredvioletsareblue { T }

→ Download Here

"Klaus, you have a piece of glass sticking out of your neck!"

Klaus felt for the glass, wincing as he found it.

"Oh yeah. Fun." It took all of Five's willpower not to throttle him.

☁︎ Hidden Variables Theory, The by siriuspiggyback { T }

→ Download Here

Something has disturbed the space-time continuum, and it's up to Five to figure out what it is.

With a bit of luck, and a lot of alcohol, he might even manage to do it before he snaps and murders his siblings.

☁︎ Honey and Vinegar by JayTRobot { M }

→ Download Here

The Handler sends Five on a mission only he can complete - to seduce a known pedophile for information. Then kill him.

Five doesn't appreciate playing the honeypot.

☁︎ I Want It (I Got It) by Electra_XT { E }

→ Download Here

“Oh, Christ,” Five said, starting to grin. “Diego, no. Don’t tell me you’re actually into being called—”

“Shut up,” Diego muttered.

“It’s not sexy,” Five said. “It’s cliche and corny and macho and self-aggrandizing, and I’m disappointed in you.” He waited a beat. “Daddy.”

☁︎ i'm gonna be here til i'm nothing (but bones in the ground) by iguessyouregonnamissthepantyraid { T }

→ Download Here

Someone definitely just punched him in the chest, right? That’s the reason for that feeling? Or that last batch of pills had something seriously off-label mixed into them. Because there’s no way. There’s no fucking way.

He squeezes his eyes shut until dots burst behind his eyelids, but when he opens them, the hallucination doesn’t go away.

“… Five?”

☁︎ I'm The Daddy? by TUA (IAMS) { G / WIP }

→ Download Here

Five spends fifteen years in the apocalypse and two years working for the Temps Commission before breaking his contract and time traveling back to the year 2003; just a year after he originally went missing.

According to his calculations, wiping Reginald's existence from the timeline means the apocalypse never occurs. But of course, this leaves several newly orphaned fourteen year olds in his care.

Let the family bonding and therapy ensue.

☁︎ if the sky comes falling down by synchronicities { T }

→ Download Here

The equations are still wrong.

In 2002, Number Seven wonders why her siblings are acting odd.

(Or, the post-finale “Vanya doesn’t remember the time travel” fic)

☁︎ If You're Different And You Know It (you're not alone) by M3zzaTh3M3z { T }

→ Download Here

Five was different. He’d always known. Different from most people, what with his freakish birth, powers and unconventional upbringing, all that old news. And different from his siblings. He was smarter. His powers were stronger. And he’d never picked a name. All that was old news too. But there was something else that separated him from the rest, something he didn’t know how to put a finger on, how to categorize, analyse, understand. Five didn’t like not understanding. It was probably Klaus that made him first notice something was off.

☁︎ Is the sadness everlasting? (love, I think it is) by ArmedWithMyComputer { T }

→ Download Here

A look into what Klaus' newly discovered ability could mean for the siblings.

Diego could feel his whole body trembling as he faced the ghosts, only able to take shallow breaths as he struggled to process the true horror of what he was seeing.

And then they started howling.

The sound pierced though his stupor and forced him to his knees instantly. It was like nothing Diego had ever experienced before, and he was consumed with the intensity and overwhelmed by a deep chilling fear. It felt as though his mind had been taken over and all he could hear was the shrieks of grief, more intense than any emotion he had ever felt.

☁︎ It Does(n't) Matter by MYSTERYstew { T }

→ Download Here

It’s a familiar feeling, being lifted up by Luther and tossed around like he weighs nothing (to Luther he certainly does), it was a favorite move of Luther’s as a child. Nostalgia is not what Five feels, he’s too busy flailing as Luther throws him over the railing.

or, Five fails a jump

☁︎ Jealousy Sucks by FiveUmbrellaAcademy { E / WIP }

→ Download Here

"God, Diego." Five rubbed his temples, sounding exasperated. "He's our brother."

"I'm your brother, too." Diego blurts out. Fuck, now he's sounding like an insecure, whiny boyfriend. Perfect.

Five just stares back at Diego, his eyebrows burrowing.

At the physical age of seventeen, Five has, in Klaus' words, grown up hot.

☁︎ Just One Minute by willowhisperer { T }

→ Download Here

Five holds up his end of the deal, soaked in blood. The Handler decides to toy with him a little while longer.

Maybe it's revenge, maybe she's riding the high of her shiny new position as head of the Commission.

Really, she just wants to win, once and for all.

☁︎ Kinktober Day 12 - Crossdressing by Multifangirl69 { E }

→ Download Here

The Umbrella Academy Kinktober Fest//Day 12

☁︎ Kitten Socks by sky_blue_hightops { G }

→ Download Here

Klaus's lost his favorite pair of socks (again) (Ben shut up) and finds them in an unexpected place.

☁︎ Lessons 'verse [Series] by Soulykins { T }

→ Download Here

Five was maybe four years old when he figured out that he was pretty much ride or die for his siblings. He was also four when he figured out that in the Umbrella Academy, you could never let Reginald Hargreeves figure out what you loved lest he use it against you. There was safety in aloof indifference, more than could be found anywhere else under their roof.

Five times Five Hargreeves protected his siblings the best ways he could, and the one time he failed.

☁︎ Lethe by shoelaces { T }

→ Download Here

Le·the | A river in Hades whose waters cause drinkers to forget their past.

Or: Five loses his memories instead of Vanya, and it falls to his siblings to raise a superpowered teenager in the 1960s, all whilst preserving their own new lives and preventing yet another apocalypse.

☁︎ Like an abyss by fridayyy { T }

→ Download Here

For the second time, Five has to (gets to?) grow up.

☁︎ Like Oxygen by sevansa { T }

→ Download Here

Klaus's powers may be a bit more extensive than just seeing the dead, he's not sure what to do about that.

The one where Klaus's power is not ghosts, but souls and that makes a hell of a difference.

☁︎ master of my domain by achilleees { E }

→ Download Here

“You’re asking five 13-year-old boys not to jerk off for – it can’t be done,” Luther says. “Now that we’re older, it would be different, but back then –”

“Excuse me, I could do it,” Five says. “I could certainly outlast all of you.”

They all look at each other.

“Oh, no,” says Allison.

☁︎ Meet the Hargreeves Siblings by AmyR { G }

→ Download Here

Klaus is found passed out by a confused Patch and Beaman. When Diego comes to get him, refusing to divulge who the unconcious man was, things get weird. At least the first time. The second time, it was a different person. And then the third. Then the fourth.

Until finally, explanations are demanded.

☁︎ Mellow Rays of a Departing Sun [Series] by Emotionally_Detached (Yeah_Toast) { T }

→ Download Here

He makes it. He time travels and makes it through another apocalypse. He makes it, but his siblings don't.

His siblings don't make it, except he's in his own childhood and they're still here, alive and thirteen and he can fix things.

He will fix things

☁︎ Midmorning Coffees and Therapy Sessions by wereworm { G }

→ Download Here

Local woman working at coffeeshop accidentally adopts a child and gives advice with a focus on getting closer to siblings when she, herself, has a sub-optimal relationship with her sister.

Or the time Five went to get a good cup of coffee and ended up slowly befriending the barista while trying to reconnect with the siblings he hasn't seen since his childhood without the looming threat of the apocalypse anymore.

☁︎ most dangerous place in the world, the [Series] by Princess_Sarcastia { T }

→ Download Here

"Grace is the third model in a series created by and for Sir Reginald. She has access to the knowledge obtained by her predecessors in their time assisting Sir Reginald in his many endeavors.

All three of them were primarily designed as protectors. Do no harm, just as Mr. Asimov said!

But Grace is slightly different."

[priority one: protect the children]

☁︎ Need a Vacation by Electra_XT { E }

→ Download Here

“You ready for a relaxing weekend at the beach?” Diego said.

“Thrilled,” Five said, looking down at the map in his hands. “A relaxing weekend of hunting down a hired killer and pretending I’m dating my brother.”

☁︎ New Life, A by BirdInTheCave { T }

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Allison had convinced Ray to come back to 2019 with her and her family and after a month of being cooped up in the house with the other Hargreeves plus their own unconventional guests, Ray suggests they spend some time alone. He's still struggling to fully comprehend the new world he's stepped into but he's determined that with Allison at his side he can get used to anything. Allison can't find a reason to say no. She should have said no.

Luckily for her, Five will always be there for his family, now that he's back.

☁︎ Next time, hire a nanny by TheArchaeologist { M }

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While the rest of his family go out to Vanya’s concert for the evening, Five, still recovering from the remains of a lingering chest infection, agrees to watch Claire. He is fifty-nine, he can handle a little girl for the night.

Everything goes fine.

Until it very much doesn't.

☁︎ Not my body, not my life (But I am here) by Panonnymous_Bloom { G }

→ Download Here

He wasn't going to explain to Diego why exactly he was following Allison's every move with his eyes because he didn't own anybody any explanations, especially not his simpleton of a brother who seemed to think that every Alpha was going to pounce on Allison at the first sign of any heat.

Allison's decision to spend her heat in the house leads Five to a small realization - and even smaller desire - but he will kill a thousand men before admitting to it.

☁︎ Not with me by ClaraCivry (Kat_Of_Dresden) { T }

→ Download Here

They never asked if any of that blood was his. Five is bleeding, and he is also giving up.

AU to 2X07, with hurt Five because after all that boy has been through...

☁︎ Number Five | And The Things that Make Him Tick [Series] by Kraeyola { T }

→ Download Here

It's only been two weeks for him.

AKA: Five succumbs to two weeks worth of badly cared for (physical and emotional) injuries, and ends up extremely feverish.

☁︎ On My Terms by CivilBores { T }

→ Download Here

“I did what you asked,” he tells her. “Now, the briefcase.”

Her eyebrows raise in mock-surprise, red lips curling up her face in a sadistic smile.

“You didn’t think that was all, did you?” she asks.

AU: The Handler gives Five a slightly different deal.

☁︎ On This Day In History by telm_393 { M }

→ Download Here

Five had a...special relationship with the Handler during his time at the Commission, or maybe he didn’t. After the apocalypse doesn’t happen, he tries to order his memories of the last few years while also actively suppressing them. It goes badly.

His siblings are worried, and genuinely want to help. They are not unsuccessful.

☁︎ Out of My Mind by Electra_XT { E }

→ Download Here

“What happened?” Diego said. He looked down at himself. “Am I hurt?”

What happened? echoed a voice from the back of his head.

☁︎ Outside, For the First Time by Trees_Frogs_andPotentially_Treefrogs { G }

→ Download Here

Grace is torn between her programming to obey the rules set by Mr. Hargreeves, and her duty to the children, and decides that being a person is self determined.

☁︎ Partners, Parents, or None of the Above by DarkFairytale { T }

→ Download Here

Kenny's mom assuming that Diego and Klaus were A) a couple and B) Number Five’s parents was both bemusing and amusing at the time. But that was because it was the only time it had ever happened. Now though? Now they just can't understand why these misunderstandings keep happening.

☁︎ Raising the Bar by Electra_XT { E }

→ Download Here

Five looked ten years older. He was still youthful, early twenties, but he had suddenly and visibly become an adult. Diego had braced himself for… something, but not this. He was dressed heartbreakingly preppy— neatly tailored slacks, a shirt that fit him like it was made for him, and a casual blazer. Diego hadn’t known a blazer could be casual before, but the way Five wore the linen jacket made it seem genuinely effortless.

Of all the ways this new body thing could have gone, Diego didn’t expect him to be hot.

☁︎ rude awakening by Soulykins { T / WIP }

→ Download Here

When Five wakes up, he just knows someone is in the room with him. Of course, even he didn't except to come face to face with the Handler who he'd thought to be very very dead. And he especially didn't expect her to break into his room and watch him sleep while waiting for him to wake up.

It's very fortunate that Diego and Klaus show up to wake him up and take offense to some random lady in the same room as their very uncomfortable, very thirteen-year-old brother.

☁︎ Screaming in the Face of Communication by papayaromantic { T }

→ Download Here

It's not that he doesn't want to pay attention to Five, just that he seriously can't hear what the boy is saying past the wailing of the torn apart woman in front of him.

☁︎ Second First Time by venDi { E }

→ Download Here

Five spent his early years learning about Alpha biology -- and he knows, recognizes the sudden shift in his family's scent, that his heat has sent them all into a very, very early rut.

☁︎ Servus by Anonymous { E }

→ Download Here

"They had been given a chance to start over, all of them, together. At least, that’s what Five intended, when he pulled he and his siblings from imminent death...He had watched his siblings be swept back to their collective childhood, armed with the knowledge of what was to come, and how to prevent it. He, on the other hand, had ended up somewhere entirely different."

Five receives one, final business proposal from the Handler, and her methods of persuasion are far from conventional.

☁︎ Shadow Elixir, The by Phantom_Vidar { E / WIP }

→ Download Here

With the apocalypse averted the Hargreeves attempt to rebuild their lives and transition into something that resembles a fraction of normalcy. A year later and strange visions start appearing to Klaus, of a dark space contaminated by souls bygone and a voice who aches to be free; especially Ben's. The apocalypse has passed but now another disaster awaits— one that Diego and Five might have accidentally walked into.

Alternatively: Diego and Five have sex and coincidentally start the next stage of the end of the world.

☁︎ shaking like I shook before by Anonymous { T }

→ Download Here

Five tries to deal with it alone, until he learns that he doesn’t have to.

☁︎ skirts and sweaters by slightlyworriedhuman { T }

→ Download Here

"I don't want to be a ‘cute little schoolboy’ anymore, alright?” Five snapped. For some reason, the thought of himself as a schoolboy was enough to make his skin prickle. Was it the implication that he was younger than the rest of them, less mature despite his life?

...Yeah, it was definitely that. Absolutely.Five wants a change in wardrobe. His siblings are more than happy to help.

☁︎ small changes by calypso42 { T }

→ Download Here

“I need to ask you something.” He set down the large stack of books he was carrying beside him. Klaus glanced at a few of the titles - Consciousness in the Brain - Memory & the Role of the Hippocampus - Soul vs. Matter: A Comprehensive Look at the Origins of Sentience - and grimaced.

“Are you… having an existential crisis, or something? Because I am possibly the worst person you could go to for that.”

...

When Five goes to Klaus to ask him something about his powers, Klaus doesn’t think much of it. At least, until he realizes that what he thought was simple curiosity was actually deeper than that, leading to a revelation about Five himself.

☁︎ Snacktime. [Series] by HotCocoaaa { G }

→ Download Here

There was a wolf spider, just, chilling on the table that morning when Diego came down for breakfast. A...a really big wolf spider. Just...a real hunk of a thing.

(“You...you just….you just ate a spider.” He murmured.)

It didn't end well.

☁︎ Special punishment by Anonymous { M }

→ Download Here

Five was the only one with a tattoo on his rib

☁︎ sweater weather by KittenAnarchy { G }

→ Download Here

Number Five, a dryer, and his first blink.

☁︎ take shelter by aloneintherain { T }

→ Download Here

AU where the apocalypse doesn’t follow the Hargreeves to the 1960s. Without the threat of nuclear annihilation hanging over their heads, the siblings can take the time to be a family again.

Until they find out that the Handler has been blackmailing Five.

☁︎ There are Stones in my Stomach and Worms on my Plate by TheArchaeologist { M }

→ Download Here

If you ever need a crash diet, try the apocalypse. It is fat free, dairy free, lacking in all the vital vitamins and minerals, and totally organic.

After all, look at Five. Weeks after stopping the apocalypse and he still can’t finish a plate of food.

☁︎ there is simply nothing worse than knowing how it ends by Drhair76 { G }

→ Download Here

"What's this?" He said pointing a finger at the bread and peanut butter that was laid across the table top.

Five rolled his eyes and sighed heavily. "What do you think. It's a sandwich."

"Oh?" Klaus reached out a hand to brush the sleeve of his beloved hoodie. "And what's this?"

or, the one where Klaus 'loses' a hoodie, Five gets a hug and Ben is proud.

☁︎ they could care less (as long as someone'll bleed) by Ford_Ye_Fiji { M }

→ Download Here

Number Five is cornered once again by commission agents, but this time with his family.

Diego and Klaus learn something about their littlest-oldest brother.

☁︎ this is a bad town (for such a pretty face) by luciimariiellii { T }

→ Download Here

Five’s gone. (How the Hargreeves cope, and how they reunite.)

☁︎ time on my hands by achilleees { E }

→ Download Here

“If you orgasm, you’ll die,” Five said with a grimace.

Diego’s eyes went wide.

“Bet you wish you’d just been sterilized now,” Five said.

☁︎ Timelines 1-2.1 [Series] by dgalerab { M / Partially WIP }

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As the world ends, Five takes his siblings back into their child bodies on the day he originally left. With the knowledge of how the world ends fresh in their minds, the Hargreeves siblings do what they can to leave clues for their past selves on how to grow up a little less fucked up before returning to the present.

A present where they all have different lives they can't remember, there's a fun new apocalypse on the way, and Reginald Hargreeves remembers the day where all his children suddenly and inexplicably lost their minds and all respect for him at once a little too well.

☁︎ to unexplain the unforgivable by darkviverna { T }

→ Download Here

Ability to see the dead and having a temporal assassin for a brother don’t mix well.

☁︎ Too Much Too Little by 1spideyson { T }

→ Download Here

Five says nothing on the ride back, just gently presses the tips of thin fingers to his eyes and temples like his head is a new instrument he’s learning to play. Like he’s searching for the right notes.

Diego tries not to cast too many worried glances the boy’s way, but when Five crawls into Diego’s bed, shaking and grey, he can’t stop himself from speaking up.

A look at Five and Diego's relationship through a h/c lens.

☁︎ Too Old To Be So Young by KaseyBeth { T }

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Five winced loudly, pushing his head off the floor to see bright red smeared across his chest and stomach; crimson soaked into his shorts, running down his leg. His head fell back against the ground dizzyingly, and he groaned as someone touched the wound, biting his bottom lip as he tried to stay conscious. The end of life, of everything, was in three days; they didn’t have time for this, he didn’t have time for this. A bullet wound, a stupid bullet wound and all that stupid concern and worry, was just going to slow them down. There wasn’t time for mistakes, or hiccups, or rest and recovery. It was the end of the fucking world.

☁︎ trans diego & child five [Series] by iamnotalizard { G }

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eudora and beaman are surprised to find out diego has a kid; they're more surprised when they see what their relationship is like

☁︎ traumaversary by WeWalkADifferentPath { T }

→ Download Here

It follows him like an unscratched itch. Under his skin, over his body, around his energy, like a mosquito that won’t leave him the fuck alone.

April 1st. April 1st. April 1st.

(A character study of Five, with some inevitable family feels, in honour of March 24th).

☁︎ two can be as bad as one by myeyesarenotblue { M }

→ Download Here

“Five, sweet little Five” Klaus says, from where he’s sitting cross-legged on the floor, next to one of the living room’s couches, instead of sitting on it like a normal person. “We love you but what the fuck”

Five growls, like he’s a dog or something. “It should correct itself”

☁︎ Uncle Five PT1 by glitched-coffee { G }

→ Download Here

Allison has to take care of Claire without warning the others but its all fine and dandy until Claire thinks she’s old enough to hear everything about Five. She’s seven.

☁︎ Unexpected Future, An by aseies { T / WIP }

→ Download Here

“I’m sure you’re looking forward to finding a way back to your own time as soon as possible,” Nedzu said. “I want you to know that U.A. will do everything in its power to help you achieve that goal. Time travel is a complicated equation to solve, but I’m sure if we put our heads together we’ll come up with something!”

Five raised a skeptical eyebrow. “And you’re just going to do that out of the goodness of your heart? I’m not even old enough for high school yet.”

“Well, we’re all heroes for a reason, no? What good are we if we can’t help a single child in need?” Nedzu pointed out with a pleasantly neutral smile as he sipped his tea.

OR: Instead of time traveling into the apocalypse, thirteen-year-old Five Hargreeves teleports in the middle of the USJ fight.

He gets a couple of new dads out of it.

☁︎ Vital Signs by aye_of_newt { M }

→ Download Here

Sometimes, it's difficult for Klaus to tell if someone is alive or dead.When Five shows up, covered in blood after killing the Board, Klaus panics.

☁︎ walls kept tumbling down, the by Ingu { T }

→ Download Here

It started small.

There was a nagging ache in his chest, phantom pain from where the bullets had pierced his flesh, in the overwritten timeline that never will be.

(the one where rewinding time doesn't miraculously resolve mortal gunshot wounds)

☁︎ We All Deserve Second Chances (but don't repeat your mistakes) by justarandomword, wolvesandnovas { T }

→ Download Here

Time-travelling gave Ben a second chance at life. He's not about to let Reginald Hargreeves ruin that for him and Klaus.

(a.k.a. Reginald takes Klaus' dog tags and the aftermath.)

☁︎ we didn't choose this life, we're just (kind of) living it [Series] by noodlerdoodler { T / Partially WIP }

→ Download Here

Five couldn’t move, standing by and watching complacently, as his younger brother grabbed him roughly by the front of his sweater. It was like he was watching a play he wasn't apart of, yet that was definitely his small body being tossed over the balcony. No doubt, Luther thought that he would just jump out of the way. He'd always jumped out of the way, sometimes without even meaning to, but now visions of a world on fire flashed through his head as his body plummeted towards the ground. Seemingly, he was tumbling through the air in slow motion and absentmindedly, Five wondered if this was his life flashing before his eyes. All he saw was the desolate world he’d left behind weeks ago.

When Five hit the ground, it was with a sickening cracking noise.

“Oh my god, Luther, what have you done?”

☁︎ with two arms by karcheri { T }

→ Download Here

What it comes down to, really, is that Five had been too eager for results. Once it became clear to him that there was a connection between his powers and his energy level the obvious course of action, as he saw it, was to test this information. The hypothesis was this: higher energy levels = stronger powers and the easiest way to get more energy is to eat more. Pretty simple stuff. Too simple.

or Five times that Five starves himself and one time that he gets called out on it.

☁︎ world of options, a by achilleees { E }

→ Download Here

“So did you ask Five about me?” Klaus asked.

“Was I supposed to do that?” Diego said.

“You are the worst fucking wingman,” Klaus said.

☁︎ year that wasn't, the by achilleees { E }

→ Download Here

Diego turned to Five. “I’ve already, uh, lived today. This has already happened.”

Everyone went still.

“Ooh, that’s a mind-fuck,” said Klaus.

☁︎ you from yesterday by questors (sieges) { T }

→ Download Here

The difference between who his siblings once were and who they are now.

☁︎ You Put Your Head In My Hands by shadowsapiens { M }

→ Download Here

“I need a favor.” Five scrambles to his feet, fluffy dark tail lashing behind him. “Don’t worry, it’s not the apocalypse.”

☁︎ You Shook Me All Night Long by Persephxneeee { M }

→ Download Here

Diego was right, Five thinking too much sometimes.

☁︎ zero to sixty by achilleees { E }

→ Download Here

“Man, have you seen me?” said Diego. “Are you really that surprised?”

Oh, Five thought.

“Seems right,” said Klaus, pleased. “Other than the turtlenecks. Very hard to take you seriously as a Dom in the turtlenecks.”

#the umbrella academy #tua #fic rec #masterlist #blueberry's fic recs

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nyrator · 3 years

Text

another long vent post about depression/anxiety

extremely depressed tonight

first made the mistake of driving myself to the grocery store at 6pm, first I had to try scraping the ice off the windshield with nothing but a broom and bare hands, then driving itself was nightmareish, the car feels like a death trap to me, very loose and sloppy compared to my last car, so loud and uncomfortable with no audible music to calm my nerves. My eyes have worsened to the point where I can’t see anything at night- glare takes up my whole vision, even with anti-glare shades. I was driving well below the speed limit the entire time and still almost hit three pedestrians who were all recklessly out on the roads in all black for whatever reason. My nerves are completely shot from it, my chest feels like I’m in a vice and can’t breathe, my eyes are wide open and hunched over the steering wheel, and my body feels both like I’m about to wet myself at any moment and that I’m too stiff/tense/frozen to function as a human at all, it’s that fight-or-flight response at its extreme. Meanwhile, my skin must be weak- my knuckles bleed when driving, and my wrists bled just from carrying in bags of groceries.

then getting home and just dealing with personal drama of someone I know who is so depressed and self destructive and too smart to reason with, who refuses/is unable to seek professional help, who just doesn’t understand or just can’t help venting to me nonstop, no matter how much I beg them not to over and over- their life is so terrible that suicide seems like the only option to them, and I don’t want them to do so, but I can’t keep suffering like this either and I feel like the only thing preventing them from doing so, as poor a job as I do as a human being anyway. But I can’t help them if they can’t help themselves, even if they were just ate a bit better, or just had a journal or someone anonymous they could talk to, but it seems inescapable and impossible to change anything and all we do is argue over it until I snap at them to leave me alone. That person is probably reading this right now and probably hating it, but I doubt anyone on this site even knows who they are.

Tuesday morning, I couldn’t sleep at all from anxiety- it was so severe and inescapable, I laid in bed for four hours feeling like I was dying until I was finally able to sleep for two hours. I can’t seem to stay asleep longer than two hours anymore. Was supposed to hang out with friends that day, but between lack of sleep, depression, and my absolute terror at driving in a snowstorm, I ended up just staying home.

Anxiety has gotten so bad again. I know a lot of how the mechanics work behind it, I know a lot of pains are from tension and lack of breathing. But my old coping mechanisms don’t work anymore. I can focus on breathing for several minutes straight and then fall right back into suffocating. Music, counting things, meditating, none of it helps anymore.

One way to describe the feeling of anxiety- it’s kind of like when you fall asleep on your arm, and you feel all the blood rushing back into it and that tingling sensation. Imagine that, maybe a bit less, but throughout your entire body (especially chest), your body is stiff and not numb, and your entire body is vibrating or shivering/shaking or something.

I still spend 16+ hours laying in bed every single day. When I got home from shopping, the walking around (and the stress of driving) was enough to send me straight to bed, I was so tired and weak. It’s probably why I don’t sleep properly, I’m half awake in bed all the time, what need is there for sleep

I have mail I haven’t opened, taxes I still have to do, messes to clean, and don’t care for any of it. Can’t even talk about some things I’ve been doing to myself out of spite or general depression, the way I’ve been abusing. I promise to try not to do anything too crazy or directly harmful, but even then I worry about slipping up- I tried one thing I shouldn’t talk about, which wasn’t too serious, but still seriously concerning how easy it was to try doing

still haven’t contacted a therapist, my fear of calling someone is so strong I can’t overcome it, especially not after just waking up. Talked to some friends, some agree that I should, at least one thinks it’s a waste of time and money- up to $125 per session to just get a glorified phone call thanks to covid restrictions. I just don’t see the point if I’m still stuck in my apartment at my computer, especially if I have an internet addiction already.

The lack of doing anything is driving me insane, I think. I’ve played four single player games in 2020- ACNH, KH MoM, Panel de Pon, and Picross. In terms of things watched on my own, probably just Japan Sinks and whatever else was on Netflix the few months I had it. Don’t feel motivated to play or watch anything anymore, nothing seems interesting, and mostly just do things with friends if at all

Even ACNH, the game I play the most, I barely do anything in it- mostly just get new items from stores, that’s it. My island decorating has come to a hard halt, mostly because I barely have any furniture I’d like to embellish it with, and mainly because I have no ideas to layout most of it

I want to create, but don’t have the energy to make anything at all. Rotten Nyan is still my current goal, but anxiety has made it next to impossible to work on. I’ve tried several times the past few weeks, all met with failure- the anxiety’s too much, half the time I don’t even know what’s causing it, but my body just gets too tense and cramped without even doing anything, and I just can’t breathe at all while working on it.

Thought about making an omake comic for it, then realized what a terrible idea it was, and how hard it is to draw comics in general. Or anything in general. Wrote down the entire comic while laying in bed one day, went to draw it, was unable to, tried making it a yonkoma, gave up, and felt sick thinking of all the gross things in it that I just made a vent description of Middle Lave and just posted that to the RN tumblr instead.

I can’t think of any ideas, I feel like my art has regressed- I’ve taken more shortcuts for the sake of my hands tensing so fast from anxiety, and I’ve gotten decent at drawing middle Lave I feel, but anything besides a character standing is impossible for me- any environments or character interactions that I’d love to do just feel impossible, let alone my inability to write good ones. Anything I try to think of writing-wise always ends up the same gross content that burned into my memories that I just can’t feel comfortable talking about much at all, nor do I think it’s content people want to see at all.

There’s a lot of detailed kind of art I’d like to do. I kind of want to loosen my restrictions on myself and just draw whatever suffering I feel like, maybe once I use the RN twitter more I might get a little more courage to do so. I see many artists draw detailed scenes in single images, and no matter how hard I try, I just can’t capture that feeling.

Part of me feels torn about it being an autobiography for people to relate to, and being a suffering experience for people to find some weird enjoyment out of. I feel like I’ve lost sight of what it was originally meant to be and now just enjoy “bullying” Middle Lave half the time I guess, but unfortunately for me, bullying makes me feel like vomiting and is hard to draw consistently- maybe I’m too nice. I don’t know, I’m just rambling at this point. The comic is still laid out and just meant to explore the life of Lave, but it’s just so hard to work on.

In terms of other things, I have no idea what to do

Vtuber/streaming? Hate my voice, can’t focus on learning what I need for it in terms of rigging and texturing models. I only know the basics of making 3D things and nothing else.

Console art? I already designed all the ones I’m mainly interested in, but like I mentioned before, can’t think of any character interactions at all that I feel like drawing.

Making a game? I know 2k3 well enough to make anything in it event-wise, though never got over my map failings, and I can’t commit to anything long-term. Godot or another program, or programming in general? Good luck.

I just want to make something, work on a project without losing steam or letting anxiety prevent me from learning. Can’t focus on anything long enough to learn it- Japanese, making a game, programming, a new hobby, anything. I just don’t have the drive to do anything and will give up anything I even try to start, so what’s the point in even trying anything. I have books I haven’t read that I’ve been meaning to read for years, and still don’t have an ounce of energy to want to even organize them on their shelf, let alone open it

At the very least, I got my first big commission (second one ever), designing an OC for someone, and it’s going well, though tonight I’ve lost steam to finish it, and I hope I can get it back tomorrow to try to finalize it.

I’ve mentioned it before, but I really wish I just had someone guide me with art- I miss doing those 30 day challenge kind of things, or “send a number/emoji” kind of asks for OCs, but tumblr’s so inactive that I don’t see them on my dash anymore, and don’t know how to even look for them, especially not on sites like twitter these days. Though, the problem is, no one knows exactly what I like, and I feel awful letting people down if they ask for something I don’t want to draw

I can’t focus on exercise long term, and I’m so out of practice that exhaustion is too strong to beat. I’ve been trying to walk up and down on a step stool for exercise to get me back into basic movement, but even that’s too tiring. Want to do it while watching something, then I realize, I don’t watch anything at all, not even youtube, just an occasional artist stream that I mainly chat with rather than watch

I feel like I’m going to collapse if I turn or move too suddenly, and my eyes are absolutely terrible- glasses are okay, but without them I’m completely blind now- not just blind, but it’s like my eyes see at two different angles sometimes, like one is slanted or something, very disorientating.

It’s 7:30AM, and no desire to sleep at all. Terrified of laying in bed and letting anxiety take over me again. Part of me wants to become completely nocturnal and just avoid everyone during the day and just respond to messages in the AM hours, just wake up at midnight each day and avoid dealing with people. Go to sleep when everyone starts to get active and just isolate myself entirely from society.

I feel like I exist with no purpose whatsoever, and it’s driving me insane- not that life is meant to have a purpose, but I could at least be doing something more than laying in bed all day every day for a year

#text stuffs #nyrants

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chronsart · 4 years

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I present the floof

a day after surgery

What did he do you might ask?

He scratched and shook his ear so much that it hemoraged and ballooned

Good job boio why do you do make me worry

i think he was just really happy to be back home. He was gone for two days, the only times since we’ve known him have been involved with the dog pound. I was really worried how he was handling things, but the veterinarian’s seemed really nice and took good care of him. Which, props to them, despite being so busy in this pandemic, called to let us know how he was doing and when his surgery was going to take place.

He’s taking recovery well, sleeping alot, sleeping on the bench under the patio and watching me garden.

The event in a little more detail:

After a short walk around the neighborhood, his ear swelled up like a balloon in the span of an hour, and which, and my family had to rush him to an animal hospital. He went into surgery and was held two nights. He returned yesterday with his ear drained and wrapped in sticky gauze. We were told that he had two terrible ear infections and with that causing his ear canal to swell he shook his head so much that he popped a vessel in his ear and just... well, hemoraged. So I guess that can happen. It’s new to me.

He is being treated now with some antibiotics and some ear drops, and his stitches will continue to be monitored by the vet. I guess we’ll be seeing them again soon because he’s trying to take off the bandage. His stitches are starting to show beneath it, and that’s not good.

Cost: Its 15 per replacement, and the entire surgery was 259 in combination with the anesthesia for his weight which was 95.

We’re so lucky we had that in cash, but we did need that for vehicle parts... I don’t want to ask for anything, especially at this time when many people don’t know how/what/when they’re going to eat. After the garden is sowed and the sudden room remodeling finished, I’ll have so much more time to stream and work on commissions I already owe. Just- this year needs to calm down so everyone can catch their bearings. There’s so much happening this year in such a short span of time and without warning that its incredulous.

Stay safe!

#chrons life #floof

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rivetgoth · 4 years

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OC #4 - Vittoria Marcello

Pinterest board 🥀 Tag on OC blog

AH okay here we go, my next OC, I know I’m going slower than I’d originally hoped but what can you do, slow progress is still progress and I have a lot of stuff going on in the rest of my life as well right now, but here’s another gal of mine. She’s the other protagonist of my novel.

Vittoria is Giovanni’s sister, I talked about him before so I figured it made the most sense to discuss her next. Admittedly I can’t really tell all of her story without spoiling my novel some but it’s fine, I still wanna be vague as possible and in a perfect world my novel will get more traction than just the handful of people reading these, AND hopefully my biggest supporters would wanna read my novel even if they have a basic idea of what happens in it hehe. Anyway, like everyone else so far she’s from my alternative universe in the 2080s.

Basic info is that Vittoria is a heterosexual cis woman in her late twenties. She’s the youngest daughter and youngest child of the Marcello family, and although she has seven older siblings her only full brother is Giovanni, since they share a mother, although he’s seven years her senior. As I mentioned before, the Marcellos are the owners of the Marcello Candy Company, a corporation that pretty much has the monopoly on the pharmaceutical industry due to their drug-infused and heavily addictive candies.

Vittoria was named after her father, Vittorio, which was a last attempt by her mother to hopefully convince Vittorio to accept her as his own. The truth is Vittorio had not wanted another child, having already found Giovanni a disappointment and blaming his wife Camilia’s genetics (because his elder children are so perfect - I’ll discuss them later, some of ‘em are important), and when Camila got very sick during childbirth and, despite the riches of the Marcello Empire she was mysteriously unable to be cured, fowl play was suspected to be involved, but nobody was ever caught or exposed. Camila named Vittoria in hopes that Vittorio would see her as his child and want to raise her with pride, but this didn’t really work, and Vittoria spent a large portion of her childhood almost entirely alone. All of her siblings were significantly older than her, and not only did Giovanni have plenty of his own issues to worry about, but he felt a great deal of resentment towards Vittoria, blaming her for his mother’s death due to the fact that Camila’s death was officially ruled as complications in childbirth. Vittoria had no one around but servants given measly raises to watch over her, and by the time she was as young as four she had made a habit out of trying to sneak off, although she was always caught and returned.

Unlike Giovanni, who was forced into homeschooling, Vittoria was allowed to go to school, although it was a very prestigious private school that bored her to death. She tried again to run away while there, and this time pulled off a multi-day disappearance, but when she was found, her father, frustrated with the negative press that her sneaking off had caused the company, threatened to pull her out of school and keep her homeschooled and under house arrest with her brother if she pulled something like that again. So she sucked it up and got through grade school, although she grew increasingly standoffish and cold to others around her. Her largest solace came from art of all kinds, although especially dark and provocative art, art that gave her an outlet for her frustrations and anger. She loved loud abrasive music and weird looking art that used lots of contrast and lots of dark colors. She ended twelfth grade with no friends to speak of, although she quickly decided to pursue university as her next step in hopes that it would give her what she needed to find a profession of her own and escape her father’s house once and for all.

But Vittoria found herself in a new dilemma, which was that very little actually brought her much joy anymore. Depression had kicked her ass hard through school, and by the time she was in college (which her father paid for, something that frustrated her to no end as she was aware that she was still entirely stuck in his debt and helpless without his assistance) she had very little motivation or interest in anything. She switched majors a few times and eventually settled in on art history, because of her aforementioned love for art, although this decision angered her father, who told her she would be able to do nothing of use and find no success out in the world with a degree in art history. Scared that he was correct, Vittoria ended up giving up halfway through her degree, dropping out to instead jump correctly into business, still using her father’s funds as a startup. She started a fashion line, then a makeup line, then a perfume line, all of which she felt no connection to whatsoever, opting to go with easy, mainstream, and accessible products in hopes of generating sales rather than focus on anything that she cared about. With each of these expeditions, she quickly lost any sort of interest or passion and sold the companies for very little, which quickly led to her creating an image for herself in the public eye that she was unable to finish or stick to anything.

Vittoria grew older and still had little to show for herself and her efforts. She was still trapped in her father’s home with no direction, desperate to prove herself but lacking any sort of support system or internal confidence or drive to get anything done and scared of failure. Her only other sibling still living at home was Giovanni, who she wanted nothing to do with, and seeing his life plateau into a steady stream of nothing, just lounging around and living on his father’s money, terrified her. She finally decided to pull herself together and dip her toes into the music industry, since music had remained one of the few things she loved through everything, although she wasn’t entirely sure what direction she would go in these endeavors, and if she would actually have the courage to explore the darker themes and sounds she liked so much.

After announcing her intents and beginning to contact record companies, Vittoria heard back almost instantly from Anubis, the Rock God of Death, an aging, extremely famous and successful, as well as extremely mysterious, industrial rock musician, who was also the owner of Embalmed Records as well as the Golden Jackal Nightclub. Anubis, in his mid sixties at the time, offered her a partnership with Embalmed Records. Soon after, Vittoria and Giovanni were kicked out of their father’s house, disowned for their incompetence and constant embarrassment of him and his company. Vittoria would accept Anubis’ offer, and learn that he had much more in mind for her than only a simple contract: He wanted her to be his personal protégé. Vittoria accepts this offer and begins to train under his wing, which is where a majority of her story within my novel takes place. Over the course of the novel they also become lovers.

I want to be a little vague here, because I don’t want to wildly spoil every aspect of the novel now, but in the end, Vittoria undergoes some pretty extensive body modification that leaves some large scars on her body and her organs rearranged inside of her, and Anubis dies under tragically under mysterious circumstances, leaving all of Embalmed Records to Vittoria for the taking. She now runs the company as the CEO of Embalmed.

Vittoria ends up in a relationship with one of her employees (who she met before she took over, when she was still training under Anubis), named Cosmo Halloway, who will definitely get a post as well. He’s sort of a musical renaissance man (and the frontman of the industrial metal band Heat Pit) and he adores her. He helps her manage the Golden Jackal.

Vittoria and Giovanni view themselves as polar opposites, and in the way many of their issues manifest, they are. Giovanni overeats and Vittoria starves herself; Giovanni is an insomniac and Vittoria spends most of the time depression-sleeping. Giovanni loves color and elegance, Vittoria loves blackness and harshness. Giovanni’s trauma manifests in a very childish nature and he tries to suppress any negative feelings inward, while Vittoria tries to be mature and lets out any negative emotions on others, constantly lashing out and yelling at others around her. However, they have a lot in common as well, including both loving art and finding solace in it, both struggling deeply with identity issues and insecurities and finding a sense of self, and both having serious long-term trauma related to their family circumstances. She likes to commission artists to draw portraits of her, because she has a great dislike of herself and struggles so much with her own identity, and conceptualizing herself through how she’s depicted through the eyes of artists gives her a more solid sense of self. She hates sweets, mostly due to her family’s involvement in them. She drinks a shitton of black coffee to try to stay awake but still tends to fail and oversleep. She loves dark colors, leather, and silver. She has a horrible temper and is typically very cold and can easily turn aggressive, although this is something she gets marginally better at as she takes over Embalmed and becomes more assertive in her control of the company.

I love Vittoria. I think she’s a really fun character and she’s spent a LONG time in development, I’ve reworked her a huge number of times because she began as a very vague concept (actually, she originally was a guy and her entire character was hugely rewritten to be a woman early on in development lol) that I’ve spent a long time evolving to fit the role of protagonist in my novel. I have a lot more about her (and Giovanni) I’d love to share, but like I said, I don’t wanna give away too much about the novel!!

#daily OC talk

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minsgirl · 5 years

Text

Selcouth | ot7 mx series

Chapter: One,

[GENRE]: fluff

[WARNINGS]: Please make sure to pay attention to warnings in each chapter.

[A/N]: My first full series! I’m not sure just how many chapters it will have at this point, but it will be fruitful. Also, I’m sorry it isn’t amazing. I am a new writer but I will definitely try my best on this. Written in y/n point of view.

Chapter One:

Shownu quirked his eye at you trying to piece your thoughts together. He couldn’t imagine what you're thinking right now. All he wanted to do was help or provide some kind of comfort to you. He could only just kept watching as you paced your livingroom carpet back and forth. Wondering what was wrong. He thought eventually you'd make a burn in your tracks like they do in the cartoons.

“Okay, that's it” His shout caused you to stop dead in your tracks. Standing in place waiting for him to break the silence.

“ I can't watch you just walk back and forth like a mad man all day. It’s not good for your sanity. Can you please tell me what happened today and why you're doing.. this? “ He finished, gesturing around the area you were just pacing around.

You just stared at him with a blank expression on your face. You didn't know what to tell him, how to explain, or just simply couldn't, yet you wanted to so badly. Looking at his stern and slightly worried expression memories came fluttering in your mind.

From grade eight and onward, you two have been practically joined by the hip. Becoming friends when randomly sat next to each other on the first day of school.

Now you’re a 25-year-old art school graduate. He’s a 27-year-old accounting major. Sometimes you laugh how widely different you two are, and yet you two are so compatible it's almost scary.

You became so attached to him, and he became just as attached to you. You loved him so much and were so thankful for his friendship. That's why you’re thankful he rushed over when you called him out of the blue, you couldn’t hide it anymore and he needed to know.

“ Shownu...”

He was thankful you finally spoke and replied with a simple “Hmm?”.

But then he noticed the tears welling in your eyes, something was very wrong.

Standing up from your sofa, he walked over to you and placed a gentle hand on your shoulder. In his softest tone, he let you know he was there for you. To which you returned a smile.

“ I have a confession...” You looked down to break eye contact with him and sighed.

“ About five months ago the animating company I worked for suddenly sold the rights over to our competitors and so lots of people lost their jobs. Including me. Since then I have been trying so hard to find another job. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you, I didn't want to worry you. I thought I would have a new job by now. My commissions aren't doing much anymore and I’m all out of any savings I did have.. I don’t know what to do Nunu.” You hadn’t noticed the tears streaming down your face. Shownu just stared at you while he was pulling all the information together in his head.

He realized this means for the past five months you’ve been struggling.

Probably not eating as well as you should have been and financially, as well as mentally, struggling.

He knew the rent in your apartment was high as your old job was overly decent pay. You were probably months behind on the rent, but knowing how stubborn you are, you’d never admit it.

He wiped your tears from your face and just looked at you with furrowed brows.

“Sometimes, you frustrate me so much.” He breathed out, though it nearly sounded loving.

Dumbfounded, you just stood there. Watching as he broke away from you. You weren’t sure what he meant until you watched him walk towards your hallway making a beeline straight to your bedroom door.

“Hey! Shownu.. what are you doing?” You tried yelling for him again but he just silently disappeared away into your room, you now following close behind.

You studied him opening and closing different clothing drawers, grabbing handfuls of mix colored clothing and throwing them on your bed. Then he went to your closet, doing the same. Shortly after he reached for your luggage and started stuffing them.

“W-what are you doing...” You softly spoke, barely recognizing your own voice.

You just looked at him while he was practically throwing your entire wardrobe in luggage, followed by your necessities. Until the two hard shell cases couldn’t fit anything else.

“Wonho and I will come to get the rest later. In the meantime, we have a spare bedroom and that’s where you’ll be staying. When we get all your things you can have the entire basement. It’s like its own apartment, you’ve seen it.”

He sounded so firm and was still messing with the luggage, zipping them up and shuffling them about.

“No-”

“You’re not allowed to refuse y/n.” Shownu interrupted.

“Where do you think you’ll go? You obviously can’t afford this place anymore. Just stop, let me help you. For once, stop trying to act like you’re okay when it’s fucking obvious that you aren’t. Come on grab this and let's go.” He shoved the handle at you, which you took and followed him to the door.

“I can’t live with you rent-free. How much do you want? I don't’ have much but-”

He cut you off again, “I don’t want anything.”

Shownu isn’t dumb by any means though, and he knows you’ll insist on paying him and if he refused you would just transfer the money into his account or slide it into his wallet. Especially since his place was significantly more lavish than yours, he knows you’ll just insist more.

“Just...You know I live with six other guys. So we could use a girl's touch. It’d be nice. So it’s your job to keep the place tidy at all times, occasionally make us breakfast or lunch, or something. You’d be like our maid.” He kind of giggled.

Shownu was always shy when it came to things like this, speaking his feelings. He wasn’t good at expressing his emotions and you thought you saw a faint blush spread across his cheeks as well.

The drive to his house was in comfortable silence. You were drowning in thoughts of how it would be living with seven men. Not sure what exactly to expect, but you were kind of excited.

Kind of was an understatement. Flashes of his decor came flooding into your mind. Your place, well old place, was nice. Sure, but his place was amazing.

#monsta x #monsta x series #monsta x fanfic #monsta x shownu #monsta x hyunwoo #shownu x reader #hyunwoo x reader #monsta x scenarios #monsta x fluff #shownu fluff #shownu x friend #dominate shownu

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magma-paint · 6 years

Text

Well, I think I finally figured it out. The constant anxiety attacks over school and tests, the frustration that I can’t retain information like I used to and the vitamin supplements I’ve been taking to fix my memory and focus just aren’t working, the constant fear of failure as a result, all of it, it traces right back to my job.

Working retail, while it’s given me job experience and pays the bills, has NOT had any positive effect on my mental health in the three years I’ve worked it (though you could probably bump that up to 5 years if you count my first job working at the truckstop food court). It’s had an astronomically bad effect on my ability to focus and especially my ability to retain information, both of which I’ve been needing increasingly as I work toward finishing my degree and the courses get harder and harder and more and more demanding, with both Structural Geology and Linear Algebra being prime examples of this and the consequences coming from reduced memory and ability to focus. I found that I work best on assignments when I have some kind of quiet or have some kind of sounds I like going on in the background, such as relaxing music from Pokemon, Homestuck, Jak and Daxter, quiet piano or Celtic music and absolutely hate it when I’m trying to study on the bus or in the library or another designated classroom because it’s way too loud and disruptive. However, the problem starts coming in when cashiering gets involved. It’s noisy, the acoustics of the building amplify the most grating sounds, it’s a sensory overload nightmare I have to tough out for up to eight hours (probably nine because the sound can’t be escaped in the break room and the annoying medley of coworker banter, text ringtones, and videos and mobile games plague it because apparently no one’s heard of headphones and I’ll probably be seen as an asshole if I say anything about it). In response, I’ve developed a kind of autopilot I just switch to when it’s insanely busy where all of it becomes registered as ignore-able background noise and you need to speak loud and clear to get my attention. Cashiering is also insanely monotonous and brainless; all you’re doing is standing there, scanning things, pressing buttons, and that’s it. All the calculations are being done for you. There are no opportunities to do something else related to the front end or seek the department manager of wherever you’re trying to transfer to. It’s just one continuous stream of nothing that will surprisingly exhaust you physically though mentally is the target. And the final piece is the setup. Once the customer leaves, the slate gets wiped clean so the next one can be taken care of and the previous one isn’t occupying your attention any longer. They’re out of the picture once the transaction is completed and the bags are gathered. Rinse and repeat until the end of the shift.

In order, the noise problem still affects my ability to study, but it’s bleeding into my focus in the lecture as the autopilot kicks in and registers the lecture as white noise, even when I’m paying attention to what’s being written on the board or shown in the powerpoint. I’m at the point where I cannot accurately register what is important information that needs to be kept and what’s auditory garbage that can just be filtered out. So that one formula or important facet of geologic structures that’s absolutely key to doing good on the exam is most likely going to be registered as trash and filtered out. This is especially bad when you take into account that I can’t write notes fast enough and neat enough that they’ll make sense later, and if you’re like my current math teacher, good luck finding that information again because it’s nowhere in the book and I can’t find any sites that address it exactly without demanding money (instructors, please stop including problems on homework that never get covered in class and are hard to get access to if we don’t understand it). The monotony and brainlessness that comes with cashiering should go without saying. It’s wired me to do the task quickly and move on if it’s taking too long to sort out. As a result, if I’m not grasping the concept immediately, I’m going to abandon it entirely which will make it even harder to revisit if it’s going to be on the test and I’m still struggling with it. That’s how my grade starts suffering. As for the exhaustion, I obviously can’t work on homework at the register even when it’s completely dead in the store and we might only see one or two customers in an hour and a half. I try to work on it during breaks but idiots will make you want to clear your head and not even think about cracking open the book. Some people have suggested reviewing the concepts mentally while scanning, and I have tried it. It didn’t work and on top of that it only made me more exhausted and wore me out much faster than if I was completely blank or retreating into my mind to sort out my characters and their stories. In fact, it only made the information even harder to recall. And the final nail in the coffin is the new customer, dump old information setup. After doing this for so long, you cannot expect me to pick up a book, do the assigned reading, and be able to remember a thing I read or a concept within once I put the book down any more. No joke, I’ve forgotten important notes I’ve taken and concepts covered in class entirely within five minutes after class is dismissed. I’ve forgotten assignments that covered stuff that was going to be on the test even after focusing and working on the problems diligently. And that’s even factoring in essential oils and brain health vitamins I use for the sole purpose of helping me focus on schoolwork. That is how awful my memory and focus have become as a result of three years of cashiering.

I suppose it gets even worse when the only anchor for my sanity, drawing and exploring my characters’s stories, have become a double edged sword if not an outright curse. While I quickly exhaust at work if I think about my school stuff, thinking about my characters, their stories, and some headcanons I have about the world that Cuphead takes place it tends to keep me steady and from wanting to just rip off the vest and leave with a deadpan “I’m out of here” right in the middle of a rush or outright collapsing into a tired pile of frustration that just ran out of patience for your stupid “It won’t scan? Must be free today!” jokes. But it quickly becomes a vicious cycle when the stress of everything escalates and the only thing I know how to do is retreat into fantasy, which ends up becoming the least productive thing I can do to what really matters. What it comes down to is that working retail has left a disastrous impact on my academic abilities, especially in areas where focus and concentration are an absolute necessity, and during the semester has turned my favorite pastime and sanity anchor into an absolute hindrance to my studies. It’s going to take me down and take everything else with it just for the sake of keeping a reliable worker drone in the company.

Retail is a dead-end job and the only benefit I can see to it anymore is that it does pay the bills. The 10% employee discount isn’t enough of a perk to keep me there (funnily enough, when my older sister worked at Walmart part-time when she was in college years ago, the discount was 20%) and I don’t want to put down for the health/retirement/vision care plans because it’ll just keep me there longer and make it harder to leave and more of a hassle to get a new plan together after leaving. And with what it’s doing to my ability to get through the rest of school, it’s not even worth it to stay with Walmart. This is why I launched commissions and have planned to make a webcomic that could bring in fan funding from those who wanted to support the project. If I could get both off the ground and enough people coming in who’d like to pay me to make them some art, I could quit the retail job and cut out all the problems that it’s been causing me. In fact, I’m about to send out my priceboards again and get those circulating to see if I can get some business. In the meantime, I’m also going to try and get a position on campus as a TA for one of the earlier Geology courses offered or something productive that would help with my studies and reverse the damage retail has had. If you want, you can check out my commissions page to see how you can help out--I’m even gonna offer a Christmas discount for orders through January 7th if you wanna take advantage of it--or you can always support me at Ko-Fi if you don’t have enough for a full-blown commission.

And now, with that off my chest, I’m going to get back to studying for the time being and finishing my Studio MDHR portfolio. I know this post has been insanely long, but it’s something that’s just been building up and building up until I can’t ignore it anymore.

#venting #shut up magma #my job is not doing me any favors #expect commission info spams soon

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sailor-slam-dunk · 6 years

Text

Christmas Eve Service

hhgghhh chrimmis fic

Tagged: @heelnev [whose post format i am stealing here hah a ] @transboy-tyler-official [message me if any of you would like to be tagged in the future!]

Oneshot

Fandom: Professional Wrestling, World Wrestling Entertainment

Rating: Teen and Up

Warnings: N/A

Relationships: Cedric Alexander/Enzo Amore

Characters: Cedric Alexander, Enzo Amore

Other: Christmas Fluff, Family Bonding, tfw you get roped into going to a christmas eve service with your boyfriend's intimidating relatives

Summary: Enzo wants to spend Christmas Eve alone with Cedric. He ends up at church instead.

[ao3 link] [text below cut]

“OH no, no, no, no,” Cedric exclaimed as he threw a blanket over Enzo. “Oh, no. Not tonight, not right now. Absolutely not.”

Enzo’s lip curled in a pout as he sat up in Cedric’s bed. He tried to throw the comforter back off, but Cedric was already pinning it back over his chest (lest he…expose himself, again) with one hand, the other busily buttoning a starchy white shirt up his own neck.

“Ya serious?” Enzo whined as he sat up again, this time careful to keep himself covered. “It’s fuckin’ Christmas! Ya gonna ice me out on Christmas?”

Cedric’s attention was now turned to the mirror, hands busily trying to fumble a knot to secure his necktie. “First of all, it’s Christmas Eve,” he said brusquely. “Second, that’s exactly why I’m doing it. Damn—” A muted stream of swears left his mouth as he failed again with his tie. Enzo beckoned Cedric to the side of the bed with a curl of his fingers, and, apprehensively, Cedric knelt down by the edge. Enzo twisted and reached over, and started to undo the ungodly thing that Cedric had somehow managed to put in the fabric and retie it.

“Bright red? Real festive. What’s the occasion, huh?”

“Since when did you know how to do a necktie?” Cedric asked, his brow knitted together with confusion. “Your definition of formal wear is putting on pants.” Enzo glared up at Cedric as he finished up the new clean, straight knot.

“Yeah, a’ight, hilarious; now answer my question? Where ya goin’? Especially when you could…” Enzo paused, and pulled Cedric in by the end of his tie, bringing their faces just inches apart, “Keep me n’ the bed warm?”

Cedric flushed red as he gave Enzo’s shoulder a shove. “Church, dipshit. I’m going to church. Pretty sure you’ve heard of it?” Cedric punctuated this thought with a little slap to the cross tattoo adorning Enzo’s left arm. Now it was Enzo’s turn to blush, holding the skin that Cedric had just brushed against.

“Thought Christmas was ‘bout spendin’ time with family n’ friends and shit…” He grumbled, turning his face down to his knees, tented below the blanket. Cedric sighed, turning around to face Enzo, hands resting behind him on the vanity.

“Well, I got my mom and grandma downstairs waiting on the couch in their Sunday best. They’ve been waiting on me for the last fifteen minutes, we’re probably already late. And if you think I’m going to look into my old, black, octogenarian grandma’s eyes and tell her that I am skipping a Christmas Eve service because a perverted white boy stumbled in through my—how did you get here?”

“Window,” Enzo said, as simply as if it were nothing.

“—Through my window and into my bed to have sex with me, we’re both going to hell on the spot.”

Enzo exhaled through his teeth and looked away. He kind of hated it when Cedric was right, because it made him feel a bit stupid. “Alright, fine, ya win,” he grumbled at the ceiling, “go ahead. I can find my way back out—but I might, ah, steal a carton of nog from ya fridge first, a’ight?”

Cedric sighed again as he looked Enzo over. He knew that he had been right, but Enzo had a point as well: it was the season to spend time with family and friends. He had the family waiting downstairs, and Enzo…well, he was sort of dwelling in that space between “family” and “friend” with Cedric, even though neither of them really knew how he’d ended up there.

“Do you…” Cedric started slowly, but Enzo’s head had already snapped to attention so quickly that he kind of chuckled. “Do you, maybe…wanna come with?” Already, Enzo was squinting at Cedric, so he quickly added, “yes, I’m serious. I can’t just leave you alone here on Christmas Eve.”

A peculiar expression came over Enzo’s face as he bit his lips, and Cedric had difficulty figuring out whether or not it was excitement.

After a minute’s deliberation, Enzo shrugged his shoulders. “Why the hell not? It’s not like I got anything else to do with you outta commission.” He threw the bed sheets and blanket aside (Cedric was careful to look up at the ceiling and away from him) as he sat up, and set about pulling his tight pair of black jeans—gaping holes ripped into the knees—up his waist. With his other hand he fished around behind the pillows, and pulled out a garish jacket, printed in patches of leopard and tiger and zebra and God-Knows-what-else-skin, and Cedric nearly cried out in despair.

“Oh no you don’t!” He exclaimed, snatching the jacket away from a very offended Enzo’s hands.

“Hey!”

“You are not gonna set foot in church dressed like that,” Cedric scolded, throwing the jacket into the nearby hamper.

“Fuck do you want me to do, then? Go naked?” Enzo folded his arms up over his bare chest. Cedric scratched the sides of his head as he thought for a moment, but then brightened with an idea.

“Hang on a sec,” Cedric said, turning around, hands going to work pulling open the closet door and a flurry of drawers. Black socks, slacks, and a dress shirt fell down onto the bed around Enzo in a blizzard, each of which Enzo picked up and inspected in his hands.

“Ya want me to wear these?” Enzo said, almost incredulously.

“Why not?” Cedric asked, handing Enzo a small hairband he’d found. “Get your hair back, by the way.” Enzo stretched the band over his wrist, and then unfurled the pale blue shirt against his own chest. His expression was skeptical.

“Don’t think you n’ me wear the same size, big fella,” Enzo said. Cedric patted his cheek reassuringly, causing him to redden.

“Don’t worry about it. Besides, it’s better than what you had on.” With that, Cedric moved up towards the door. “Be down in the next ten minutes, or else my mom is going to kill me, and then you. In that order.”

“Where are you gonna tell ‘em I came from, huh?” Enzo smirked wryly as he pulled his hair back into a frizzy bun. He was met with a similar smirk from Cedric.

“Came in through the window, remember?” Cedric started to walk out the door, but stopped short, and turned around to face Enzo one more time.

“By the way,” he said, gravely, “don’t swear. And if you start whining within the first minute, I’m gonna haul you over to the cross and nail you right up there next to Jesus. Got it?”

Enzo waved Cedric off with his hand as he pulled the shirt over his elbows. “We Gucci! Don’t worry about it!”

Cedric thought that he certainly hoped so, and pulled the door shut behind him.

To Enzo’s credit, he stuck to his word. He waited until two minutes of the sermon had passed before he started complaining.

“How long is this?” Enzo said in a low groan from his throat. He then winced as a sharp elbow was drawn into his side (courtesy of Cedric’s mother, “madame Alexander” as he mentally termed her) for the third time in a row. He bowed his face further into the program card to avoid Cedric’s gaze, which he knew was twisted with a smug amusement that would fill him with resentment if he saw it.

“It’s two hours, Enzo,” Cedric whispered softly, and Enzo cringed to hear the smirk in his voice.

Simultaneously, as he pretended to read over the program, his mind boggled—two hours for what? In what dimension should it take two hours to explain to a room full of dedicated Christians the meaning of this holiday? Enzo thought to turn to ask Cedric, but evidently Cedric must have sensed that first, because before Enzo could even move Cedric had jabbed his own elbow into Enzo’s side, leaving him wheezing and pinched on either side of his torso. Three different “shush”es came from indistinct corners of the room, and Enzo hunched his shoulders inward with embarrassment. He felt eyes upon him—Enzo assured himself that it was primarily because he’d been too loud, once again, but all night he had, in the back of his mind, suspected another reason. Primarily, that he was a white man—not that he was the only one; this church turned out to have a rather equitable mix of races all across the board. But Enzo was a white man sitting in the middle of a black family, that he, very obviously, didn’t claim any relation to, unless they perhaps had adopted him. And Enzo assumed that Cedric’s family had been members of this church for a while, so that was definitely out of the question, unless he was one of those rare (so rare that they probably didn’t exist) children who got adopted in their 30s.

Not to mention, he was, again, a man. There was nothing inherently wrong about that, either, except that he was a man curled up against Cedric’s side—he consciously inched away now—much closer than any brother or friend would be. Of course, he didn’t want to accuse anybody in this church of anything, because he didn’t know any of them, but…Enzo just felt so uncertain, all of a sudden. He was certain that someone was judging him, and—worse yet—judging Cedric because of him.

Or maybe it was how he was dressed? Enzo was used to that sort of thing being the reason for many disbelieving stares, but then he gazed down at the stiff, plain shirt rumpled over his chest and suddenly remembered that he wasn’t in his usual sort of attire. On one hand he was glad for this, because Cedric has certainly been right about the clothes he’d had on earlier. If Enzo had tried to enter like that he probably would have been banned from the church. But, on the other hand, he still didn’t look quite right—as he’d expected, Cedric’s shirt was too big for him (for a moment he felt a twinge of shame over his lanky frame) and hung loose from his chest in a large bubble, making him appear awkward and thin. Enzo felt like—he grumbled softly again, attempting to smooth out the wrinkles of his unfortunately baggy slacks—a complete geek. A complete geek in an unfamiliar place with a bunch of unfamiliar people—well, except for Cedric. Enzo found himself instinctively scoot a bit closer to Cedric’s side. At least he radiated a familiarity, a sort of safe spot that Enzo could hitch himself to.

For a moment, his hand brushed against Cedric’s, whose head snapped up as if he expected some other dumb remark to come from Enzo’s mouth. Instead he just found him looking confused and concerned, and Cedric’s expression softened as he gave Enzo’s hand a quick, reassuring pat. Enzo took a breath in and nodded as he tried to ease back into the sermon, though he didn’t have the faintest clue what he was even pontificating about.

Then, suddenly, everyone rose up from the pews. Enzo stumbled up a full second late, and Cedric reached out as if he meant to steady him. From either side, around his shoulders, Enzo spotted the inquisitive stares of Cedric’s family, and suddenly pined to be able to shrink all the way down into that stupid shirt like a turtle. As he attempted to straighten himself out, he noticed as everyone reached down into the wood racks in the seats before them, and pulled out a small book, which seemed to be of—oh.

“Aw, Jes—” Enzo somehow managed to catch himself early, though he still earned a rather stinging glance from the corner of Cedric’s mother’s eye. He mouthed a tiny apology as Cedric leaned over.

“What’s the matter?” He whispered against Enzo’s ear. Enzo gruffly pulled a songbook out from the rack.

“We’re gonna sing?” Enzo said in despair. Cedric’s lip wrinkled sardonically.

“You ever go to a church where you didn’t sing?” He asked. Enzo flipped through the pages of the book, trying to find his place.

“In Catholic church we mostly just drink wine and yell,” Enzo admitted, trying not to groan as his eyes took in the scattered notes of the sheet music. Yet, in his peripheral, he saw a small smile crawl over Cedric’s face.

“That explains everything about you,” Cedric said. Enzo could hear a small chuckle being bitten off in his breath, and he suddenly felt a bit more at ease.

A hymn started up from the pianist on the stage, and Enzo felt eyes on him the moment he opened his mouth. He winced to hear his own voice croak out into the first few lines of “Adeste Fideles”—was that the harmony? He thought as he felt sweat bead on his neck. How in the hell did these people learn the harmony? Most people he knew barely had a grasp on the melody. Enzo’s voice lowered sharply—a rarity—with embarrassment as he tried to hide his face with the songbook. Cedric turned his head slightly and took notice, quietly taking a step closer to Enzo’s side. He pulled the book down from against Enzo’s nose and to a distance where he could reasonably see the notes. Softly, Enzo heard Cedric’s voice close to his ear, providing him a buoy to cling to and try to find his place. For a moment Enzo about melted, before remembering that he was in the house of God—he shouldn’t have been so taken in by it, because Cedric wasn’t trained, either, and his voice warbled faintly as he struggled to quite find certain notes, but to Enzo he sounded almost perfect, and for a minute he wanted nothing more than to just listen to him perform. But nevertheless, Enzo pulled himself to reality and muttered along, trying to turn the awkward strains of his throat into song. As he listened to himself he brightened a bit. It was as if just having Cedric to guide him made him better.

Then—how strange—Enzo thought he heard two other voices, female, crowding closer to him. He glanced off to either side, careful to keep paying attention to Cedric’s voice guiding him, and flushed as he found that both Cedric’s mother and grandmother had lowered down to their level. Enzo looked upon madame Alexander to his left inquisitively, and his heart almost stopped when she smiled at him faintly. They were trying to help him—a thought that made Enzo’s heart swell up for a bit as he found himself raising up his voice a bit louder.

It was like being in a family, for a moment.

Even after the two hours had passed, and all of them were standing out by the cars in the parking lot, everyone was still smiling. Enzo thought this a bit odd, because he knew he’d been more than a bit of a pest that night; but he didn’t know the last time he had people as respectable as Cedric’s family smiling at him to any capacity, so he didn’t even dream of questioning it, and smiled back at them warmly and shyly. At the end of his arm—he had to look down to confirm it, because he almost didn’t believe—Cedric’s hand was tightly entwined with Enzo’s own, fingers clasped shut and squeezing. Pink scattered along Enzo’s cheeks, and he suddenly couldn’t remember whether or not Cedric had told him if he’d come out about the two of them to his family yet. But, then again, Cedric was being suitably obvious with the way he clutched Enzo’s hand, stroking his knuckles with his thumb, and yet his mother simply kept chatting and laughing as if she thought nothing of it. Enzo felt his eyes sting, in the best way possible, as he realized this.

Cedric even reached over to Enzo’s hand a couple of times on the drive home, holding it down under his palm on the console between the seats. Enzo, in the passenger seat, still worried about his place there, turning his head back several times to Cedric’s grandmother to tell her that if she needed this seat, she could have it, but she insisted that she was just fine where she was (and Enzo swore that, at least once, she said that while her eyes squared in upon Cedric’s hand resting on his).

And yet, when they parked in front of Cedric’s house, Cedric grabbed Enzo’s shoulder as he tried to unbuckle his seatbelt.

“You stay here a minute,” Cedric said. Enzo blinked in confusion, watching as Cedric led the two matriarchs out of the car and into the house, leaving him sitting in the car with a coat around his shoulders.

In about ten minutes, Cedric came bounding back out to the car with quick strides. Enzo opened the door, ready to meet him outside, but Cedric was already leaning in and kissing his lips hard, almost pressing Enzo’s head into the driver’s seat. In a moment he pulled back, and Enzo sprung back up like a spring, eyes wide and cheeks tinged red.

“How you doin’…” He murmured, a confused smirk edging into his face. Cedric returned to him a bright and earnest smile, one that made Enzo’s heart tremor, as he leaned in to press another kiss into Enzo’s forehead. He stepped back and shut the door, before quickly reappearing through the driver’s side door and settling in behind the wheel.

“You did good behaving, tonight,” Cedric said as he pulled the seatbelt across his chest. “Mama and grandma were real impressed—and so was I!”

Enzo felt a pang of pride in his chest at Cedric’s words, but still, he had to ask. “Why ya strappin’ in? We goin’ somewhere?” Cedric turned to him with a smile that bordered on mischievous.

“Well, you behaved so well tonight, and my family’s at my house, so…I told them we’re gonna go back to your place for a bit.”

The red tinge in Enzo’s cheeks darkened, and Cedric couldn’t help but laugh.

“No, no, not that…necessarily.” Cedric reached out to Enzo’s red face, and cupped a hand over his cheek. Enzo pretended to roll his eyes at the affection, even as he tilted his head closer into Cedric’s palm. Cedric smiled at the adoring look in Enzo’s eyes. “I do want to kiss you when we get there, though. A lot.”

“Alright, I-I…sure, I…” Enzo’s eyes widened as he stammered. Wait, what did he mean, just “sure”? Of course he wanted to go—but something in his brain was stopping him. “Actually…can we go back inside here first?”

Cedric raised an eyebrow, releasing the seatbelt and winding it back into the wall. “Why? I mean, sure, but why?” He asked. Enzo bit his lip.

“Just, ah…wanna thank your family for having me tonight, maybe talk for a little bit?” Enzo felt a hot rush of embarrassment as he recognized the amusement in Cedric’s eyes. Cedric climbed back out of the car, and soon was opening Enzo’s door, offering a hand to help him out—a hand that Enzo took.

“Alright, fine,” Cedric said with mock-weariness, “we’ll go have a brief chat with the in-laws.”

Enzo beamed in a way that was nearly blinding, and he nuzzled the side of Cedric’s face.

“Thanks, babe.”

Of course, “a bit” turned into “the rest of the night”, and when Enzo woke up with an arm around Cedric on the downstairs couch of the latter’s home, he was a tad bit embarrassed. But, when Cedric’s mother and grandmother came down, and soon they were all drinking coffee, Enzo found that he didn’t mind all that much—in fact, he didn’t really care at all.

It was always nice to spend Christmas with family.

#205 live #enzo amore #cedric alexander #falalalala-lalalala~

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peachyteabuck · 5 years

Text

good for ‘em

summary: prompt was “thorkyrie x reader threesome + piss play + brat taming“

after you break some rules, a punishment must be given

pairing: thor odinson x valkyrie x reader

words: 3,042

trigger warnings: piss play, rope play, threesomes, oral, unprotected sex, d/s dynamics, pet names, dirty talk

notes/other: i have...officially written some thorkyrie. another 2019 goal finished!!

ask box / masterlist / commission info / ko-fi

(cred, cred)

Crouched low on the ground with your knees digging into the modern grey carpeting, you’ve been tensing your thighs together and twisting your body every which way for the past twenty minutes. You’ve been doing yoga and Pilates for years, but nothing prepared your muscles and limbs for this day, for the aching in your legs and arms as you contort yourself into every position possible in a seemingly endless effort allow yourself alleviation.

Each new pose you frantically twist yourself into (each one made harder by the rope that locks your arms behind your back) grants you a few moments of beautiful, sacred relief before the anguish becomes ten times as worse as before.

The game never ceases, each Hellish cycle of excruciating pain and recovery on repeat.

It doesn’t take long for your deep, frequent groans of pain to become loud enough to be heard around the make-shift gag that stuffs your mouth; the salty-sweet slick from a pair of Val’s black lace panties from her previous antics with Thor pressing against your tongue coating your taste buds with every whine. As you beat your limbs at the floor hoping to catch said woman’s attention, you hear a deep laugh from the (literal) king-sized bed at the center of the room.

“I think our little girl is done, Val,” you hear Thor say, his voice thick from immense pleasure. At the acknowledgement of your torture, you whine again, back curving as you try to pull them within eyeshot.

The efforts sort of works; you can see one of Thor’s legs twitching and where his pelvis meets Valkyrie’s hips as she pulls forward and back again on his thick cock. Thor’s loud moans reverberate against the walls, and you can picture his head thrown back in ecstasy as a strong smirk crawls across Valkyrie’s face.

Even if you can’t see it now – view obstructed by the tall bed - the lines of her lips are easily drawn by memory as you know this contortion of her face, and you know it well. This face is the same one you saw yesterday when she fucked your face with a strap-on, the same one you saw the day before when you found her ramming into Thor doggy style with his face pressed into the mattress as if he wasn’t six inches taller and 150 pounds heavier than she is.

“How much longer do you think you can hold it, baby?” Valkyrie asks. You know she’s looking at Thor but talking to you, and as you try and scream, another jolt of displeasure courses through you. Not long, you want to say. Please, please let me go. Still, all that breaks through the gag is a childlike screech.

Luckily, Val seems to get the wordless message. With an annoyed huff, she climbs off Thor (ignoring his hearty protests) and pads over to you, still naked and dripping between her legs.

The first thing you feel is her presence, just the sheer fact she’s near you forces a whimper rise from your throat. Valkyrie’s always had this energy that surrounds her like a second skin, one that’s both imposing and comforting. It reminds you of a large wolf or one of the large Sequoias you visited as a child; one that intimidates and fascinates you as her brown eyes burn into your heated skin.

The second thing you feel is her foot nudging under your stomach as she tells you to flip over. You do, the ropes that bind you not making the task easy, and you can hear her laugh a little as you struggle. The movement alone makes another rush of pain flood your veins, causing you to writhe on the carpet even more than before.

The third thing you feel is the same foot pressing just so, her toes pressing directly onto your filled bladder. You’re full on crying now as the pressure increases, tears streaming down your face and nose running as you concentrate everything you have not to release everything right fucking there. If you did, you’d surely soak her foot and the towel under you, and she’d make you clean both. The mere thought makes you shiver.

Valkyrie tuts, crossing her arms across her bare chest.

“Thor says you have to go, little one,” your watery eyes obscure her face, but you’re sure the same smirk from before still paints her features. You can picture her almost too easily, talking down to you like an experienced pet owner would chastise a puppy who chewed the legs of her expensive couches and chairs. “If you have to go, then go.”

In some other dimensional plane, you can hear Thor get up, too. On one divergent from that one, you can feel him next to you; on another, he strokes your face and smooths your eyebrows with his thumb. The only thing that’s real to you is his deep voice, his lips close to your ear. “C’mon, sweetheart,” he coos. “It ain’t a trick, if you have to, just let go.”

You whimper, still not believing either of them.

Val rolls her eyes before bending down and slapping at your sensitive pussy. You welp, entrapping her hand with your trembling thighs. “Baby girl, I’m gonna keep slappin’ ya until you let go, understand? If Thor says you’re done, you can be done.”

It doesn’t take much after that to break, your entire lower half (including the rope) soaked in your own urine. As you finish, your once-labored breathing turns into quick, deep bursts - each pant into the fabric in your mouth is returned with another flood of the heady taste of ValValValValVal. With the hefty relief comes an undeniable pleasure, your eyes rolling to back of your head as your brain short-circuits and your legs try to twitch in their binds.

It takes what feels like hours for your muscles to relax, but even as you fall limp on the ground your chest continues to heave as your lungs crave sweet, pure air.

“You done?” Val asks, tone flat and empty. To others she sounds biting, annoyed, on the brink of punishment. You know better, though, you know she’s genuine as anything as she stares down at your shaking body.

You gasp as best you can, nodding. The ropes still dig into your skin as you lay on the ground.

“Good.”

Immediately she unties the intricate knots as Thor fishes the spit-coated underwear from your mouth.

“You need any water?” He asks, noticing your dry mouth. You viciously shake your head, mind flashing to just a few hours earlier.

You got to sit at Thor’s lap, at least, while Valkyrie tied you up and made you drink exactly 500 milliliters of water on a mostly-empty stomach. With the first few sips everything was fine, perfect even as Thor rubbed soothingly at your hips. The cramping didn’t hit until the second glass of water, an agonizing knot tying in your lower belly. After that subsided a residing stomach ache crawled up your abdomen, which quickly gave way to the overwhelming feeling that you needed to piss…now.

Once you began to complain, she stripped and stuffed your mouth as she and Thor crawled onto the bed six feet from you and started to fuck. Their moans and the sound of skin slapping skin echoing off the walls didn’t allow you to think of anything else besides how much you wanted them.

He smiles softly as he looks you up and down, a visual check to make sure you’re alright. “Alright princess, c’mere, let’s get you on the bed and we can- “

“Um, put her down.” Valkyrie stops him. Just when you thought you had gotten away with it. “You do remember that she’s being punished, right?”

Thor clears his throat but doesn’t say anything. Looks like he isn’t coming to your rescue this time.

She continues. “You do remember that she flirted with that bartender last night? And wore that slutty dress? And disobeyed direct orders not to touch herself that day? She came twice without permission, Thor. Twice.”

Thor shrugs, still silent. Traitor, you want to sneer at him. Instead, you pout and try to make your eyes wide and innocent – I’m a good girl, you try and wordlessly convince her. Don’t punish me, I’m too sweet for that.

It doesn’t work.

Valkyrie looks down at you, eyes burning holes in your now-quivering bottom lip and tone condescending as ever. “You can’t get away with that sort of behavior with me, princess. You got that?”

You nod, quiet as the sky at midnight.

“Excellent. Now get up on the bed, in position.”

You follow orders without retort, climbing onto the large bed that smells of sex and sweat and the cherry blossom candles Thor loves to burn all the time. Your arms are still sore from the carpet and rope, and as you move face down, ass up there’s an occasional sharp inhale of pain. Behind you, you can hear multiple drawers opening and closing at once, the two sets of footsteps meaning Thor had gotten over his pity for little ole you. This punishment isn’t what you wanted, isn’t what you hoped for when you misbehaved, especially since now even Thor – sweet, gentle, (normally) soft dominant Thor – wasn’t even on your side. Normally he keeps the retribution to your benefactor, but it appears even a God can’t overpower Valkyrie.

You can feel Val’s warm hands rubbing your ass, a surefire sign of trouble. The bruises from the last time you misbehaved hadn’t even healed yet, and they’d sure be joined by more by the end of the night.

You tense under her calloused palms as she spreads you apart, gripping the sheets in hope for some relief.

“Do it,” Thor mumbles, voice thick with lust. You’ve seen him like this before, his mouth watering like a starved lion watching an injured goat limp across an empty field. This seems to be his favorite part, which has always surprised you. Maybe he loves feeling the drag of his thick cock move in and out of your dripping cunt and calling you a slit and fucking your throat and making you play with yourself with a vibrator on high until you’re crying from overstimulation.

But nothing, nothing is better than watching Valkyrie beat you until you’re begging her for mercy.

A few months ago, as an early birthday present, you let Tony jerk off while Valkyrie tied you up and used you like a toy for a couple hours. Thor, too, joined your audience, offering his counterpart some scotch as they sat next to each other a few feet from the bed.

“You’ve done this before, haven’t you?” Tony asked as he palmed himself through his jeans. The playboy let out a particularly deep moan as you cried out – Valkyrie’s crop landing in an exceptionally tender spot on your body.

Thor smirked as he took a sip of mead. “You don’t even know, Stark.”

You don’t relax when Val removes her hands, and you jump at the next feeling.

Whatever is touching you is soft, long. It’s dragged lazily across your tense muscles, and each time it stops and picks back up again you gasp in fear.

“Aw, is the little baby scared?” She mocks close to your ear. All you can do inhale sharply and nod as Val laughs before starting again.

You’re not sure how long this goes on, this game of cat and mouse that feels more like torture and less like punishment every second. At one point you feel Thor’s fingers running along your spine – another too-sweet feeling that makes you shiver. What are they planning? Why are they doing this to you?

You’re shaking violently when Valkyrie steps away from you, your body slumping and posture curving a little at the complete loss of contact. When your mound hits the sheets, you feel something much heavier and solid than whatever was touching you before at the back of your thighs.

“Did I say you could leave position?” Thor hisses. He sounds like Valkyrie with his aggressive tone and tint of growl; it makes another river of slick run down your shaking legs.

“N-no sir,” you stutter out, pushing yourself up again. You don’t dare look back, terrified to even glimpse at the pair behind you without permission.

A few beats of silence pass before one of them speaks again. “Here’s the plan for tonight, princess,” Valkyrie hisses in your ear. “You’re going to get both Thor and I off, and then – and only if you’re good – we’ll let you cum. Understood?”

You swallow the spit that trailed down your bottom lip before you respond. “Yes, daddy.”

“Good,” She grins. “Now come and eat me out.”

You’re pulled to Val’s pussy by your messy hair, your knees soon hitting the floor as she leans back on the bed. Loud, deep moans tinted with laughter fill your ears as you wrap your lips around her sensitive nub. The fist wrapped in your hair only tightens as she speaks, grinding her pussy into your face. “Who’s my little clit hungry slut, huh princess? You my little pussy-eater?”

You mmm into her folds and she falls back against the messy sheets, each inhale a sigh and exhale a groan. With your narrow field of vision, you can see Thor kneel close to Val’s head - kissing at her temples and cradling her face.

“Watching our baby eating you out is making me so hard, Val,” he coos. You can barely hear him now, her thighs wrapped tightly around your ears. You easily slip two fingers into her heat and as you curl them she clenches around you, signaling her impending orgasm. Her screams only push you to suck and bite harder, to press more fingers into her as you tongue traces her burning cunt. Thor pushes one of his large hands through your hair next to Val’s, pushing you even further into her dripping center.

“Faster baby,” he murmurs, voice heavy and dark. “Suck that clit.”

Val comes with a shout, the only thing releasing you from her clenched thighs being Thor’s hands pushing them apart. When your mouth finally leaves her core, you’re panting harder than you have all night, breathe taken as you stumble back. Your face is covered in her juices as Thor pulls you to him, kissing you before pushing you down to the floor and guiding you towards his crotch.

“Suck it nice and slow, baby,” he grunts. “Wanna cum in that pretty little mouth of yours.”

You take him down easy, your throat accustomed to his large size from years of experience. But even if your jaw is used to the stretch, you still choke as he thrusts into you. You can’t get him off as fast as Valkyrie, even as you wrap one hand around his shaft and the other plays with his balls.

You gag and spit and suckle at his head, but it’s obviously not enough as Valkyrie looms behind you. She’s grabbed a chair (probably the same one Thor sat in all those months ago) and tsks. “I think you need a little help there, princess,” she tells you, voice low and sultry. You can feel something at the back of your head, forcing you down on Thor’s cock so far that you start to tear up.

“Oh gods,” Thor hisses. “Fuck, keep pressing with your foot like that.”

“Sometimes an eager little whore needs some assistance,” Val mumbles, watching you both with awe.

Thor comes down your throat with tears streaming feely down your face and Val keeping you with as much of Thor’s cock in your mouth as possible. By the time she lets you go, you fall to the ground and choke in air, desperate to breathe freely again. “I think we overdid her, love,” Thor says as he watches you, eyes wide with concern.

Val rolls her eyes. “I think she’ll be okay.”

Once your breathing returns to normal and the tears become few and far between, Val speaks again.

“Well, I think she’s been good, hasn’t she?” Val asks, looking down at your spent form.

Thor hmms and pulls you onto him, guiding your hips down onto his cock, already hard from his last orgasm. “She should get her reward.”

He flips your bodies so that he’s looming over you, your body pliant under his. Thor slips into easily, your pussy aching from lack of contact. You’d tell them how good it feels if you could, but your throat hurts so bad all you can do now is whimper.

It feels so fucking good as Thor begins to fuck into you at a bruising pace, going balls deep with every thrust. Val only encourages his antics as she lays next to you two. “Isn't our princess so pretty Thor? Look our pretty girl taking your cock. ‘S the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen…”

Thor huffs as you let out a particularly animalistic moan, your face turned and pressed into the bed, so the sheets muffle your screams. “You like that, angel?” Val purrs. “Like Thor fucking you nice and hard?”

All you can do is nod, brain fried as you feel Thor’s thumb circle your neglected clit.

“Then come on his cock, baby, soak his fucking dick.”

And you do. Embarrassingly quickly. Twice. He tries to go for a third, but Val stops him.

“Oh, my little baby girl,” she coos. Her fingers smell like she’s been touching herself, getting herself off as you and Thor fuck in front of her. “Are you done?”

“Mhm,” you mumble in a small voice. With each second your eyelids get heavier and your chest rises higher, sleep overcoming you as Thor pulls out and pushes you into Val’s arms. “M tired,” you croak.

They both huff out small laughs. “I know, baby,” Thor says. “Go to sleep, we’ll clean up in the morning.”

Val nods her head in agreement, her and Thor working together to get all three of you under the warm (but dirty) comforter. The laundry they’ll need to do in the morning is insane, but for now, they rest and enjoy the post-sex haze with you cuddled between them.

#thorkyrie #valkyrie #thor odinson #valkyrie x reader #thor odinson x reader #valkyrie x thor odinson x reader #thorkyrie x reader #thor odinson smut #valkyrie smut #lukis writes stuff #ngl i hate this so much #i was just tired of seeing it #in my wip folder every time #i went to work on smth #else lmao #but here it iiis

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