#Ok let's climb back out of the rabbit hole

[mikkomacko]

Thank u for doing requests ! What about giiving kisses on mob boss Nico’s scars (if any)?🥹🥹

This is so sweet oh my god I’m gonna cry. (This also somehow turned into a smut scene at the end so happy first smut scene of mob boss Nico!)

Thank you so much for requesting! I hope I did it justice!

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It wasn’t a big dead, not really. Just an off-handed remark Jack had made after Nico chirped him for getting a bad haircut.

“You should spend more time worrying about that lip of yours than my haircut.” He’d yapped, motioning to the recently split lip Nico had gotten. “Eventually your girl’s not gonna wanna kiss it better.”

It had healed just fine and yeah for a bit there you’d avoided the raw wound, but now that it’s just a sliver of a scar it’s fine, right?

Nico can’t help it. He’s picking at it, smears of shaving cream still splattered across his jaw and cheeks. He picks at it until the skin of his lip is red and raw, and it hurts so badly he has to stop.

In a frantic spiral he’s suddenly spotting all the little marks on his face. Every scar left over from teenage acne to fist fights to hitting his head on the coffee table as a child, Nico feels manic as he takes them all in.

Maybe he shouldn’t have shaved. Maybe he should’ve let his beard grow out, creep up his cheeks and down his neck to hide all the ugly marks.

Down and down and down the rabbit hole he goes. Wiping the shaving cream off with a towel, Nico spots the ugly mark on his collar bone from where he’d been nicked with a knife. The one on his abdomen from where he’d been kicked with steel toe boots.

Something ugly and ashamed rises in his chest, threatens to choke him. He scrambles out of the bathroom, haphazardly shutting off the light as he rushes to the closet. In his haste to cover himself he misses you already lying in bed. It’s not until he’s yanked on a hoodie and sweatpants, finally able to breathe easy, does he notice you watching him with bewilderment.

“You ok boss?” You ask him, slightly amused.

Nico runs a hand through his hair, feels like throwing up. What if you saw all of them? Like really saw them? Sat in front of him and saw all those ugly spots at once, all his ugly spots?

“Fine,” he mumbles, climbing into his side of bed. He feels stiff and awkward, ignoring your gaze as he reaches to shut off the bedside lamp.

You make a confused noise in the dark and Nico blinks until his eyes adjust. Then he’s lying back on the pillows, staring up at the ceiling. His fingers ache to reach for you, to touch your skin. But he’s terrified of you touching his skin and suddenly deciding you don’t want to anymore.

Stupid fucking Jack and his big mouth.

The sheets shuffle, the mattress moving with your weight. “Nico?” A hand pats down the duvet, then slithers across the blanket until it’s resting over his chest.

“Hm?”

“Baby you’re on the edge of the bed.”

“M’just hot.”

“Maybe it’s the winter clothes you just put on?”

Nico hesitates, scrambles for an excuse. “Not feeling well either. Don’t want to get you sick.”

“You ate three plates of pasta, Schoa. I don’t think that’s contagious.”

Clearing his throat, Nico pathetically shrugs. Something’s welled up in his esophagus, is choking him and he wants you to reach over and make it better.

“Do you want to tell me what’s wrong or am I gonna have to piss you off first?”

He closes his eyes, feels the weight of your hand on him. That feeling chokes him again, makes him panic until he’s spiting out his worst fears to you.

“Do you still want to kiss me?”

Nico expects you to laugh, to kick at his leg and tell him he’s being ridiculous. But he thinks the pathetic whimper of his words has given away how dire this topic is to him.

“Oh baby,” you breathe out, “I want to kiss you all the time.” You sound sincere, like you’re thinking about kissing him right now. It makes his face hot, embarrassed and insecure for some reason.

His silence is thick, hanging in the air so heavily you have to sit up in bed and crawl over him. Nico can’t help it, his hands moving on their own to find your hips as you push the blankets back and straddle his thighs.

“Nothing could ever make me not want you.” You whisper. In the dark he finds your eyes, the moonlight coming through the window gleaming in them. They look shiny and blurry, warped by the night- no by him. Because he’s got tears in his waterline.

“You didn’t want to kiss my lip,” he mumbles like a child, “when it was hurt.”

You stroke through his hair, press your palm to his cheek. “Because I didn’t want to hurt you, not because I didn’t want to kiss you.”

“What if next time it’s worse? What if the cut is bigger and then the scar is and it doesn’t get better?”

“What-Nico where is this coming from? Did something happen?”

He’s silent, embarrassed again. “Jack said if my scars get any worse you won’t want to kiss them better anymore.”

“Oh Nico baby,” you huff in disbelief. “Have you ever noticed that Jack doesn’t even have someone to kiss his scars better? Who does he think he is?”

You’re right, but he doesn’t feel better. So he just shrugs, makes some weird noise of protest in his chest because he’s scared and hurt.

“Can I please turn the light on?”

Nico leans into your palm, heart thumping loudly in his chest but he mutters his consent. The lamp flicks on and at first he’s blinded. But then you come into view, one of his shirts on your shoulders and you’re pretty hair frizzy on top of your head.

You look so beautiful over him.

“Oh my god, what has Jack done to you?” You ask softly, stroking your thumb under his droopy eyes that are still wet with unshed tears.

“I don’t know,” he mumbles.

Your fingers trace his face, over the soft skin of his freshly shaved cheeks and the slope of his nose. Your thumb outlines his lips, your eyes following its movement with such adoration in them it makes his heart ache.

“You are the most beautiful man I have ever seen,” you say with earnest, stroking the scar on his lip. “No cut or bruise or scar is ever going to change that.”

“Yeah?”

You lean down, ghost your lips over his. “Yeah Nico,” you promise, sealing it with a kiss. He runs his hands up your back, holds you as you trail kisses over the little marks of his face.

Nimble fingers dip beneath his hoodie, touch the warm skin of his stomach. “Can I take this off my love?”

Sluggish, Nico nods. He sits up enough to help you wiggle it off of him, falling back into the pillows as you throw the hoodie to the side.

You sit back, admiring the skin of his chest and abs with your hands and lidded eyes. “All I see when I look at you, is the brave and strong man that I love.”

Sliding down his body, you mouth at his collarbone with soft and needy lips. Nico sighs contently, lets your breath tickle his skin and grows warm at the way you touch him so sweetly.

Sometimes he wonders how you can treat him so softly, how you can take him in those soft hands and turn him into a puddle.

“Baby,” he whines, unsure of what he’s even calling for. All he knows is that he loves you and you’re making him feel so good.

“Let me love on you,” you request, word pressing into the column of his throat. “Let me show you how beautiful and sexy you are Nico.”

He tangles his fingers in your hair, shudders as pleasure nips at his belly and blood rushes to his cock.

“Fuck, yes, please.”

You’re slow and diligent, finding any and every place on him that is marred or changed and showering it in kisses and loving touches. He’s sweating and panting when you get to the edge of his pants, peeling the band down to reveal more and more of the scar there.

“This one’s my favorite,” you say so quietly he almost doesn’t hear you.

“Huh?”

He lifts his head, brain foggy with lust. You peer up at him through thick eyelashes, blinking sultry over the planes of his body. Lips hovering over the mark that trails down the v of his hips and the top of his thigh.

“My favorite,” you mumble into his skin, kissing at the point of his hip. Then you’re pulling his sweats down even more, innocent eyes watching him hiss when his cock jumps free, red and hard against his abdomen.

“Why?”

Your lips curl up, wicked as you bite into the inside of his thigh just enough to make him twitch. “Because I get to see it every time I’m down here.”

Nico’s brain short circuits, shuts down when you bite into his skin again and it feels so good he might come untouched. He doesn’t want to though, not that he needs to tell you that.

You nose at his cock, mouth wet and hot against the base of him and his bones turn to jelly. He falls back into the mattress, widening his legs for you to get closer.

Grounding himself with fingers in your hair, Nico whimpers when you drag the flat of your tongue up his length, gentle fingers wrapping around his girth.

“Baby,” Nico whines again, and you’re already kissing at the thick head of his cock, all teasing flicks of the tongue and lips sticky with precum.

“I know pretty boy,” you assure, sweet and loving. Nico moans, ears growing hot at the pet name. “So pretty, from those big eyes of yours all the way down to your pretty cock, huh?”

His hips buck up, eyes rolling back and he twitches in your hand. Jesus Christ, now he knows why you love when he talks you through sex. The rawness of your words, the truth in your tone, how utterly sweet you sound saying such filthy things.

“Make me cum,” he begs, tugging on your hair encouragingly. “Please just -fuck!”

You swallow him down easy, fitting his cock into your warm mouth just how he taught you. Like it’s habit now, to have his cock dripping into the back of your throat while your tongue licks at the underside of him.

Nico’s so worked up and sensitive he’s already throbbing and threatening to blow his load. That fire licks at the base of his spine, curls his toes and has him blubbering nonsense. You bob your head, drooling down his length and cupping his balls in your palm.

You’re so soft and warm, so loving in everything you do. Nico thinks it might kill him one day, how much you love him. But that would be a hell of a way to go.

His cock throbs, twitching in the hollow of your cheeks and you stroke a free hand over that favorite scar of yours. That’s at it takes and he’s seeing stars, coming so hard on your tongue it twists painfully at the pit of his stomach.

Dropping his hands from you, heavy like his bones are made of lead, Nico fights to catch his breath. Your merciful on him, easy and gentle as you kiss your way back up his torso and to his mouth.

Nico doesn’t peel his eyes open until you’re messily mouthing at his parted lips. Your tongue tastes like him, breath hot and he groans into your mouth as he kisses you back.

“I lied,” you pant when you part from the kiss. “This one’s my favorite actually,” and your pecking a kiss to the scar on his lips.

“Baby you just sucked the soul out of me,” Nico croaks, wrapping his arms around you and pinning you into his sweaty chest. “I can’t take anymore compliments.”

You giggle, touching your nose to his. “It’s the truth this time, I love that one. It’s the first thing I see every morning, the first thing I see after you kiss me.”

Nico hums, smacks a kiss to the corner of your lips. “Yeah? Do you think that’s pretty too?” He goads, smirking when you blush and roll your eyes. “Pretty like my cock? Or pretty like my eyes?”

Laughing, you wiggle in his hold to try and get away. “Oh shut up!”

“Noooo keep telling me how pretty I am, boss please?”

#him and i #him and I blurb #nico hischier #mob boss Nico #mob boss Nico hischier #nico hischer x reader #nico hischier smut #requested

[completeoveranalysis]

[9]

The brutal contrast of Lava Lamp instantly agreeing to stay in the castle vs Syaoran at the start of Tsubasa having the same offer but continually refusing it, because he didn’t think it was proper. 

And maybe that’s a natural difference between different sets of people in slightly different scenarios, or maybe it’s the general decline from 'Good' things into less good things when the timeline was interfered with. Like how previously Fujitaka was king and happily married to Nadeshiko, but the next time around Clow was king and Nadeshiko was nowhere to be seen, with Fujitaka already passed away. Like how Sakura used to be involved in purity rituals in the reservoir, but then it was just a ruin being excavated and nothing to do with Sakura. 

I mostly just have a growing list of suspicions but let’s put a pin in it for now. 

OH 

NOW THAT IS PRECIOUS

#A crown of clover? #A wreath of three leaf clovers…? #OH wait no there is one with four leaves near the bottom #Very sneaky #A tiny piece of incredible luck #Hidden amongst something otherwise entirely ordinary #Like this moment in general #Liveblogging the reservoir chronicle #Tsubasa #Vol 191 #Lava Lamp Guy #Sakura #Which Sakura? #A Sakura #And it would take someone with luck like Sakura to find a four leaf clover in the first place #... UNLESS THE LUCK ISN'T IN THIS TIMELINE #What if the Luck was like Residual Timeline Changes In the Form of Luck #HMM #Ok let's climb back out of the rabbit hole #hit post

[sophie-hatter-jenkins]

7 Sentence Day

OK, so I haven't been on Tumblr for a couple of weeks. I haven't looked at Discord. I haven't written a damned word. Why? Well, I only went and fell down the Kismet Trilogy rabbit hole, didn't I. And goodness me, it's fantastic - @breaniebree is truly a genius. I've nearly finished A Second Chance, so I hope to be coming up for air soon, but I'm just so honoured to be tagged for 7 Sentence Day by @four2andnew that I couldn't help but take a little break to share 7 sentences from The Ecstasy and the Agony, which is Chapter 42 of Evolution:

When Harry reached the hallway at the bottom of the stairs, he paused, wondering if he dared double back again. Then he heard the sound of pans clattering in the kitchen and, worried about having to repeat the whole awful charade again with Mrs Weasley, let himself out of the front door into the garden. As his bare feet hit the frosty ground, he winced. It was so cold, he instinctively crossed his arms across his chest, rubbing his biceps and hopping from one foot to the other while he wondered what to do next. Go back inside and brazen it out? Try to climb up the trellis to Ginny’s window? Just head back to the tent and explain later?

For anyone that's waiting for the full chapter - it's coming, I promise! just a bit more editing to go. Hopefully it is worth the wait.

Pretty sure everyone I know will have been tagged by now, but if you would like to join in, please do!

Now then - back to ASC: Chapter 335 is calling!

#tag game #wip #harry potter fanfiction #evolution

[digital-corruption]

Wow, thank you for the support. 😊 I'm feeling rather generous today so you may have part 2 early. 😁

Unrecognisable Part 2

⚠️ This fanfic contains strong language.

“You can’t be! Jake is nothing like you!” I shook my head in disbelief.

“A good hacker is also a good con artist,” the man in front of me shrugged while keeping the gun pointed at me. “Believe me or not, there’s still the issue of you not being welcome here.”

His eyes were so cold and emotionless. Had he always been like that? Was it really all a lie in the end? I felt like an idiot.

“You’re not going to let me go, are you?” I closed my eyes in despair. “Can’t we just agree we never saw each other?”

“If only it were that simple,” he rolled his eyes. “You are-,” he paused as he was interrupted by a helicopter passing overhead. “Shit! They're already here!”

“What? Who?” I questioned.

“I don't have time for that right now. Either you do as I say,” he shouted as he rushed towards the adjoining door to the next office. “Or you can face the people that sent you here. Keep in mind, they'll shoot first!”

Nervously I followed him through the next office, where he had several computer monitors set up, including a large one displaying 20 CCTV cameras. He hurriedly packed up his laptop and a few other things into his backpack.

“Grab the bag by the door!” he ordered.

I glanced down by the side and noticed an open duffel bag with clothes shoved in. The stench coming from the bag was worse than any gym locker I had ever smelt before. Wincing, I quickly zipped it up and slung it over my shoulder with my purse.

Meanwhile, Jake furiously typed at the computer. I noticed on the CCTV that several heavily armed soldiers had broken in. Judging by their automatic rifles, they weren't the friendly kind.

“Because of you, I had to disarm the traps,” Jake complained. “I have to admit, it was a bit of a gamble on their part, assuming I wouldn't just let you die.”

Just as he slammed enter on the keyboard, there was an explosion that made my heart jump. The entire building shook. Glancing back at the CCTV, the soldiers laid on the floor unmoving and not all in one piece.

“Did you just...?” I said in shock.

“Could've been you if I hadn't gotten to it in time,” Jake stood up straight just as a countdown appeared on the monitor. “Come on, we need to hurry!”

Despite Jake’s urgency, I found myself unable to move, unable to look away at the bodies. Jake grabbed my wrist and pulled me towards the hallway door just as the next wave of soldiers appeared on the monitor. I expected us to take the stairs, but strangely enough, Jake pulled me past it and stopped in front of the refuse chute.

“No!” I exclaimed.

“They'll already be in the stairs by now,” he argued as he opened the chute. He took his backpack off and held it close to his body. “Just think of it like a water slide.”

With that, he climbed in and went down the chute feet first. The door of the chute snapped closed. I stared at it in disbelief for a moment before reaching for the chute to open it. I wanted to shout down to him to check he was OK, but then I worried about the infiltrators hearing us.

“Come on in! The water’s fine!” Jake shouted from the bottom.

Closing my eyes and taking a deep breath, I questioned my sanity once again. Was I really going to go down this rabbit hole? Was I that far gone? Hearing another explosion in the building snapped my attention back to the present. Taking my purse and Jake’s bag off my shoulder and holding them tight, I climbed into the chute. Saying a silent prayer, I slid down, hugging the bags for dear life as I fell. To my surprise, the landing was soft. The dumpster on the other end was full of soft materials.

“See? You’re fine,” Jake reached out a hand to me.

“What if there had been glass in there!?” I snapped.

“Oh for fuck’s sake, why the hell would I line my escape route with glass?” he furrowed his brow. “Take my damn hand already!”

I swatted his hand away and pulled myself out of the dumpster much to his disapproval. I stumbled climbing out and nearly fell over, but he grabbed me and helped me rebalance.

“You’re welcome,” he narrowed his eyes in annoyance at me.

I shook him off, “I had it.”

Jake turned away and continued on, “Sure you did.”

I paused to take in my new surroundings. It seemed that we had descended to the underground carpark, so it was a longer fall than I had realised. Only a few dozen feet away Jake stopped in front of a metal gate and removed the chain wrapped around it. I glanced up and noticed the sign above it said “Utilities Access".

“Wait, does that lead to where I think it leads?” I frowned.

Jake opened the gate and gestured for me to go through, “Just repeat the mantra: ‘This too shall pass.’ The faster we go, the sooner we get out. But, if you stop, I will leave you behind.”

I sighed and reslung Jake’s bag over my shoulder, “This day just keeps getting better and better.”

#duskwood #duskwood fanfiction #duskwood jake #duskwood jake x mc #unrecognisable fanfic

[lovearne]

Chime of the clock - Isolation

All of my fics and my whole page is 18+ only, if you are a child leave. I deserve a safe space to express myself, all blogs under 18 or no age will be blocked. Let me enjoy my experience safely on the internet, thank you.

Word count: 914

Warnings: fluffy start to a friendship, covid lock down, a hint of passive aggressiveness

"Jake can we please just watch something else?" You whine as he starts to play Cars for the 5th time today. Jake sticks his tongue out at you and continues to play the movie. You smirk as you turn the volume on your phone up all the way. The sounds of tiktok pouring out and hopefully annoying the shit out of your temporary roommate. Jake had offered his spare room to you when Beth had needed the house to herself and her boyfriend, and you had gotten stuck there as the state government issued a state of emergency and shelter in place. Meaning you could only travel for essential work and groceries.

You and Jake had been stuck together for well over a week, and cabin fever had gotten the best of you. You just wanted to go outside and get some air, but even at that the mandates were strict.

"Hey!" Jake had enough of the volume fight, after realizing you weren't shutting off your phone. His face was pulled into confusion and irritation. "Why do you have to be in here when you're watching that?"

You frown and pat the spot beside you on the couch.

"Well, big baby, come over here and see what it's all about." Jake quickly dove to your side, his head hitting yours painfully, the both of you crying out in pain as they connected. "Oh you goof! That hurt, are you ok?"

"Are you ok? I'm sorry, I was excited." You rub your head better as he rubs his, moving to see your screen as you scroll through your for you page. The movie long turned off, and you and Jake had been sitting for a good two hours, just watching the short videos on your phone. It was hard not to fall down that rabbit hole while scrolling, you had fallen asleep many times with your phone on tiktok before. When you started to doze off leaning against Jake, he just grabbed your phone and continued scrolling. He eventually got restless and noticed the little camera icon at the bottom middle of the screen, tapping on it and seeing himsf pop up in the picture, he had a brilliant idea and wanted to make a video for you, so hopefully you were not too annoyed when you woke up somewhere else.

"Hey chippy, you fell asleep on my shoulder after making me watch these with you, here look at how cute you are," he pans the camera to you. You were sleeping soundly, drooling a little patch onto his short sleeve.

He pans the camera to the tv as well, "and here is our spot on cars after you interrupted it, not cool babe. But also really cool because we cuddled." He just stares at the camera another few seconds before saying how he was taking you to bed aloud.

He took a small clip of picking you up, and another of placing you in the bed, and when he tried to pull away, you pulled his arm closer.

"Stay." Jake nodded and stopped the camera before climbing over you and cuddling into your back, filming him wrapped around you, with his arm around your waist, the other holding your phone.

"And here is us cuddling in your bed, I'll keep you warm, and I'll see you tomorrow, goodnight little bug." The last thing the camera sees is Jake's kiss placed on your forehead.

He clicks the post button and set the phone on the table, snuggling into you and falling asleep.

------------

Pulling yourself from the land of sleep, you smile to yourself as you feel arms around you, feeling something pressed into your back and a leg around you. Grabbing your phone off the stand, you pull the main screen open, and then scroll onto tiktok, turning the camera on and choosing the perfect soft sound, starting it on your sleepy face waving goodmorming to the screen, and pivoting to see Jake.

You giggle as the man moves in his sleep, getting more comfortable and shoving his chest even more into your back, moving his face to be pressed into it as well.

You pivot the camera back to your face, giving it a big smile as you stroke Jake's arm. Getting ready to leave a cute voice over on the video. You clear your throat and speak very quietly.

"As you can see, this is what Jake does every night. He loves to climb into bed to cuddle with me, and he's a damn amazing cuddler, I rate him 11/10. Just look at how adorable, awwww he just pressed his face into my back, what a cutie pie. I have to speak quietly so he doesn't hear me, but nobody tell him that I love waking up in his arms." You end the voice over, posting that video, and seeing an absolutely adorable photo of Jake as the thumbnail of another video on your page. Smiling as you see uts a video of him taking you into your bed, and you asking him to stay, the next scene is of him smiling brightly while cuddling into you. The video already had 35 million views, it was the first tiktok made and posted by Jake, and it seems the people loved it, judging by the 20 million likes its gotten so far. You'll just have to speak with Jake about this keeping him relevant during the pandemic when he wasn't allowed to race.

Freddie stroma taglist:

@nptnewr @likedovesinthewnd @aprilfire18

Divider credit: @delishlydelightfuldividers

#jake martin #jake martin x you #jake martin fanfic #jake martin x reader #the crew 2021 #freddie stroma x reader #freddie stroma #king freddie

[echantedtoon]

Allison Chapter One

Allison Gale is newly turned twenty two fresh out of college and just learnt her grandmother had sadly passed away and had left everything to Allison. Well, she doesn't have any place else to go so why not move out of state? But unluckily for her, she's about to get dragged down the rabbit hole by a crazy but familiar old face.

(A story based on the concept art of Vivziepop's old project Allison. I do not own any of the characters, I just wanted to make a story of it based off my own headcannons. The coverart tho is mine. If you don't know what it is please go look it up. It was made by the same person who made Hazbin Hotel.)

It was a beautiful day.

The sun rays shone down upon the world as the calm quiet woods sounded with the life of birds and insects happy the sun warmed them from up above. The light shone through the tree leaves as their branches leaned over the road and blocked most of the sunlight, casting long shadows to dance on the old dirt road that only lead deeper and deeper into the forbidden woods- Well almost forbidden. The yellow blur of the taxi as it kicked up dirt was the only thing interrupting the silence of the silent woods as it sped down the dust path. Shining light went inside the cab and caught on the dark reddish-brown eyes attached to the sweet strawberry blonde haired lady as she stared out of the window watching the green world go by. It's was almost like a dream to come back all these years to the place she used to play and live as a small little girl. Running through the woods, climbing trees, swimming in the giant pond, playing with her blue furred imaginary and her granny coming out to find her and dragging her back in again. She almost smiled remembering the thoughts, or she would have if another thought didn't hit her. What would her granny say if she saw her no? Washed up without a job and dropped out of college at twenty two. A great way to start off life, am I right? A small bump sent her jostling and reaching a hand over to grab the large suitcase in the set next to her and the smaller gym bag on top of that, scrambling to not them fall on the bed of the car as another bump threatened to send them over again...When no more bumps can after a few moments she slowly let go and sighed when they didn't fall over and leaned back into her seat.

"You ok back there?," the cab driver bluntly asked not even taking his eyes off the road. His tone was just bored instead of that chipper happy tone from when she got rides back in her own town.

She pushed some of that strawberry blonde hair out of her face and taking a breath. "Y-Yeah. I-I'm ok. Thanks." He didn't answer her back and she sighed, looking back out the windows at all the pine trees and other nature scenes. "This forest sure is big."

"It's the Oceanic Forest. Our world is one half water and these woods make up a big chunk of it what land we have left." She jumped slightly and blinked back at him. He muttered something else under his breath she didn't quite catch, his black eyes seemed almost nervous gazing out at the woods like he was expecting some kind of monster to pop out in front of him and glance back up at her with a almost stern look. "....Some folks say this place is cursed. Cursed for thousands of years."

"I-I know, but it all sounds rather silly." She shook her head and looked back out the window with a small smile. "Fairies and strange powers that doom anyone who harms the forests. Heard it over and over before. Curse thee those who's hearts are easily closed minded." She gave a chuckle to it all trying to lighten the mood but stopped once her eyes looked over and caught him giving her a stern look through the rear view mirror.

"These aren't things that should be joked about young lady. If I had it my way, I'd turn around right here and now and drive back as fast as I could to the safety of the sidewalks and man made houses." His eyes darted back to the brightly lit dirt road and even though it was daytime he acted like it was night time and something would jump out at them at any given second. "B-But lucky for you my boss would have my hide if I turned down any job. I've seen things. Strange things. That no one could explain in these very woods."

Her eyes scrunched up in curiousity and perhaps mild fear at why he was acting so weird. "Like what exactly?"

"Shadows! If you look out right now and look around you may or may not see one!" He stated matter of factly and looked around quickly again at the peaceful woods. "It doesn't matter if it's day or night for them. They'll always move around waiting for their victims, but as long as you stay out they'll leave you alone. Oh, nono. They'll creep to the very EDGE of the last tree that begins the forest line and reach out for you I heard. Snatch you if you get too close. But they'll never fully leave the safety of their vast woods. Just never go into the woods and stay away, and you will always b-be safe." His voice trembled as his grip on the steering wheel increased. "May god have mercy on the poor souls who don't heed the warnings and travel to places they don't belong."

Another moment of silence passed and she temporarily gazed out the window. She didn't know why but she squinted her eyes out the window at the forest surrounding them and especially the shadows. There wasn't anyway she was superspicious but looking never- She jumped seeing something move behind a tree, but quickly relaxed when her brain registered it as a deer. The poor thing ran off probably from the car speeding through it's home and she smiled. Fairies and shadow ghost and curses. And she supposed Santa Clause and the Sand Man were right around the corner too. Her small smile returned as she looked over to the driver again.

"And I don't suppose there's a legend behind these woods too is there?" She couldn't help but sound a little amused which still made him irritated.

"This isn't funny! People say these woods were cursed by demons and witches thousands of years ago. Making this place a literal hell on earth!"

"Well. I grew up in these woods. And nothing ever bad happened to me or my granny when she was alive," she said smiling back out into the beautiful woods, "I played in the woods all the time as a kid, and I never saw any scary shadows or anything."

...."Then you're really lucky young lady." He seemed to almost shudder with his next warning. "If I were you I'd handle up whatever business I had with this dead grandma's place and get out of here."

...This time she scowled. "I can't! She left it to me, a-and I don't have anywhere else to go." Her face glanced off to the floor of the cab as her faced turned sour. Remembering the faces of the landlord who happily evicted her for bills she couldn't pay anymore, the cousin who conveniently didn't have any room for her to stay, or the teacher who wouldn't let her go back to school when she couldn't afford the college anymore. Working the dead end job at the local pizza place wasn't enough money and she only had a highschool degree. God she really did mess up huh?

"Mark my words. Nothing good could ever come from this place. Just don't say I didn't warn you, Kid."

The rest of the trip there was rather peaceful except for the man staring at the woods around them with a scared matter, until she saw it. Pale white paint chipping off the old looking brown wood giving the small house an old abandoned look. It was-...Not lot she remembered. And it only made it more apparent when they got closer. The old metal fence was barely hanging into it's place in the ground and wild vines were all plastered over it, making the tall grass and weeds look even more eerily. It...It looked like the place had been abandoned for years as it rolled closer and eventually loomed over them with a shadow once they came to a stop right in front of it. She just...stared at it. This wasn't the same white house and neat yard she remembered from when she was little-

"That's no house, that's termites holding hands...No offense."

"...I-It's ok. Nothing a lawnmower and paint can't fix."

He hummed. "Well my job's done. Grab your stuff and get out so I can leave."

She looked to him and blinked. "You're not going to help me?"

He looked around to her with a stern face and gripped the steering wheel tighter, "Lady! I ain't getting out of this cab and getting snatched up!"

She scowled but didn't argue when she pushed her door open and got out, turning around and grabbing her bags, pulling the heavy suitcase and bag out and hitting the ground with a thud, she scowled and mumbled to herself before slamming the door shut and dragging them a few feet away from the- SCREEE!! A cloud of blinding dust and screeching tires suddenly hit her and filled her lungs. Those hands went up to cover her mouth and wave at the air in a futile attempt to swat away the dirt stinging her eyes and making her eyes sting. Reddish-brown eyes blinked and through the settling dust and saw the faint sight of a blurry yellow taxi speeding away with a dust trail kicking up behind it. A growl escaped her throat and she scowled at the fading menace.

"HEY!! YOU JERK!!", She yelled back. Not that it would do her any good now or ever.

She groaned loudly and with a grunt, she leaned back down to grab the two giant and heavy bags filled with personal belongings and began to pull and tug them towards the house. That took a while with her small form heaving the objects through the tall weeds and grass towards the front door of the old home the shadow of the old place looking over her swallowing her whole and blocking out the sunlight, once she got to the porch she stopped though. Looking over the steps with a scowl before sighing, and continuing, the luggage thumping and jarring being pulled past each step. It always seemed like it was harder bringing things up stairs than down don't you think? One back breaking pull later, they were redropped onto the hard old porch and she sighed. Hands going to her back as she stretched it out with a pop and brown-red eyes looked around the front door and everything around it. ...Where did the lawyer say the key was again? OH!! RIGHT!! She quickly looked to her feet and smiled at the old welcome mat under her, stepping off and leaning down to grab and lift it, underneath was a small golden key that looked to match the doorknob. With a smile she stoof back up and went to insert it into the keyhole, with a twist and click, it opened. She just stood there as the door very loudly opened revealing the inside of the house and it-......It looked exactly as she remembered. The large living room opened up to her was littered in old worn furniture, a small shelf lined with her grandmother's old glass figurine collection still stood there as small shiny glass statues ranging from a small cat to a couple kissing each other stood proudly. She remembered sitting by the fireplace right next to it staring at the figurines and making up stories about those figurines. How the couple was a secret runaway princess and her lover. How the ballerina next to them was the greatest dancer in the world with many admires, how the cat was a glass version of her imaginary friend. She giggled remembering the funny things they would get into when she was younger. Everything looked the exact same. It was almost like-...she never left. As if she turned her head- Her eyes turned to glance at the old rocking chair by the fireplace- her granny would still be right there. Rocking back and forth, knitting her whatever new sweater or clothes she needed. Like she said when she was a little girl:

"You don't need distractions like television and all that nonsense. The woods and imagination take you places other's can't even dream about-"

"Go play. Create fantasies a bundle." She slowly muttered to herself. She still stared at the rocking chair, a light breeze blowing in through the open door, blowing her hair around and the rocking chair moved just slightly in the wind. ....She sadly smiled and turned back around. Discarding the key into her pocket and turning back to the luggage still sitting behind her on the porch with a sigh. She still had a lot of work to do. So that's why five minutes later she was pulling both bags across the floor one giant tug at a time, she would go one bag at a time but she just wanted to get this over with. It was when she encountered the stairs leading up to the second floor of the building when she wished she had superpowers of flight or teleportation or strength. It'd make things very easier, but alas magic didn't exist. While going up the stairs she passed by different picture frames hung on the walls, some really old black and white photos, others looking a bit more modern but still older. An old black n white photo of her young grandparents on their wedding day, a new one of her granny as a young lady, another of her holding a younger version of her- She stopped and stared at the picture of herself...A younger her. She remembered the day this was taken. Mother's day when she was just six years old, she made her and her granny matching flower crowns and she took the photo...She smiled a bit at the fond memories of giggling and sweet scented flowers. Before she grunted and started pulling again. The heavy bags hitting each step making a giant thump sound that vibrated through the empty house. She passed the mirror hanging against the wall as well and if she would've taken a look at it she might've seen the pink and yellow strange mitchmatched eyes blinking at her from the fan on the ceiling as she continued to grunt and pull the heavy thing up the stairs away from the mirror, but those eyes remained glued on her as the small blue person just blinked and turned as she reached the top of the stairs. She gave a sigh...before grunting and starting to pull the thing towards the old bedroom she used to stay in. The pink door to the far right. The small blue figure on the ceiling fan tilted his head at the obvious struggling before she just dropped them with a growl to the floor. Looking at them for a long moment before giving them a kick of frustration and turning to the pink door. She hesitated....before pushing it wide open and walking in. The small blue figure tilted his head to the right before blinking, arching his body and shaking lightly before hopping down off the fan and landing to the floor with the softest thud. He crept over to the doorway and poked their head in to watch her. She looked all around the small room. Faded beige walls with flower wall paper stared back at her, a regular sized bed, dresser, and desk lined the left wall and a small shelf with old toys and books leaned against the other side. A smile came to her face seeing the old pictures still tacked onto the wall. One of a crudely drawn grandma and child holding hands and another next to them a small blue crudely drawn kitty wearing some kind of white shirt and red bowtie. Unconciously she raised a hand and touched the picture with a smile at the memories. Oh the adventures she had as a child. She missed the small blue head (that looked oddly like a better version of the blue cat in the drawing) when she turned back to the door and went over to regrab at the heavy things, grunting as she pulled them in and laid them in the middle of the floor and sighed. Before unzipping the first bag on top and reaching inside to pull out a pair of clothes. These things wouldn't put themselves away, and she had a lot of work to do later fixing up the place and cleaning all the dust up.

The small figure that hid from before peeked out from the top of the doorway upside down and kept quickly ducking whenever she turned her head in that direction. Always missing the figure as she worked to unpack and definitely didn't see the wide fanged grin. Or hear the mischevious giggles. Or even hear the playful voice.

"Welcome back, Allison."

#allison #hazbin hotel #helluva boss #zoophobia #timber

[thatpersonthatisgenderfluid]

The Duo plus one 18+

Bucky x Natasha x Reader

Words: 2000+

Summary: You and Bucky have been in a relationship for a while. You also both have a bit of a thing for Natasha. How do you get her and not ruin your friendship with her. You want your best friend and your boyfriend can you get both

Warnings: Bottom Bucky, Top Natasha and Switch reader. Praise kink, bondage, unprotected sex. Tell me if more needs to be added

An: Flash backs are in italics

Navigation < Masterlist < Ao3

Me, Bucky, and Natasha have been know as the assassins trio. Trifling with one of us ex assassin Avengers it is to mess with us all. Me and Bucky started dating a while ago and Natasha was quite cute about it. She thought we were an adorable couple but she never exactly told us that but we know.

Tony always “jokes” about how we are all so close that we must have threesomes. I think he is jealous that he is an asshole and no one truly likes him. Well me and Bucky have never had a threesome we are both open to it. We have always thought about inviting Natasha into our bedroom but haven’t. We have also considered Steve as an option.

We have both talked about our boundaries and know the limitations of each other. I’m always aware of what I am doing to Bucky. I remember the one time I had heard Tony call Bucky a top. That brought my brain down a rabbit hole.

-

“James what would someone think when they see you beneath me? The way you are begging to cum. The way you cry when I bring you so close but yet take you so far away.” I say to him. The way his cock is red and just look irritated from edging him so long. The way his muscles are tense and his body is fighting so hard to not collapse. His chest is moving up and down rapidly while I stroke him off.

“Y/n please!” He says in a desperate voice. ”Please, what baby? You can beg so much better. You must not want it to much.” I say and start to slow down. “Please please please let me cum. Let me cum. Let me show you how good I can be and how good I am for you. Let me show you that I’m yours.” He begs his voice barely holding up.

I lean in teasingly and place gentle open mouth kisses on his clavicle. His hips start to come up to meet my hand. His body leaning back against the head board his hands tied up in gentle ropes. I take my other hand that I’m using to loom over him and place it on one of his hips. Stopping him from thrusting up.

I start kissing up his neck and make it right on his jaw. I lean in to his ear and start moving my hand fast. “Cum, Cum in my hand like a good boy James.” I whisper to him.

With that he cums undone and he cums all over my hand and his chest. “God doll I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make a mess.” He says. “He it is ok we can clean you up. I can wash my hands and change. While you go take a well deserved bath. Then we can cook so food or order in and maybe watch a movie.” I say to him. I gently pull away and kiss him gently on the lips. He starts to palm my ass. “Hey, did I say fucking me was on that list.” I ask.

“No” he states. “Now go take that shower.” I say. I climb off of him and he heads to take a shower. Later that night instead of a movie it was him eating me out.

-

After dinner one night I remember Bucky was being a brat. I handed it well till everyone was a bit tipsy. Truth or Dare go to set in motion. It was so stupid.

“Truth or Dare Natasha.” Tony says of course he starts it all. “Truth” Nat says. “Have you ever had a threesome with y/n and Bucky?” Tony asks. “Not like it is any of your business but no.” She says easily.

“Dare” Bucky says.”I dare you to make out with Y/n.” Sam says with a teasing voice. “Are you ok with me kissing you in front of everyone.” He asks and god that kinda turns me on.

He puts his hand on the back of my neck and pulls me in gently. Our lips meet gently. I let him keep this act up and then I’m done with it. I take control so fast pulling myself over him. Then I lick his bottom lip gently till I bite his lip nicely. I pull his lip down and then out tongues touch gently. Putting our lips together finally we pull away.

The whole team looks at us surprised and Tony the most. “Are Sam and Tiny happy now that they have seen this.” I say not ever truly remotely looking at them. I give him on quick peck then get off him and I set beside him cuddling. “I told you Y/n was going to be the top.” Steve says. Sam hands money to Steve then Tony hands some to Natasha.

-

That was two weeks ago now we are at one of Tony Stark’s famous parties. I hate them but as an Avenger we have to attend them. They make me uncomfortable rich men making comments no matter what. I could be fucking Bucky and they would be like his he good enough really. Then if Natasha is anywhere near me it is even worse. “Oh two woman I could really fuck you both.” One said.

Me and Bucky found a way out. Natasha secretly followed us because we were giggling. She lost us for a minute then she found us in a office with a couch. She opens the door gently to see quite a sight. We are making out heavily and my hand unbuckling his pants slowly to tease him. Then we see her.

I pull away from kissing him and see her. “Natty, such a bad girl standing there watching us fuck.” I say to her. “Y/n you have been spending to much time for Bucky. You can’t top me.” Nat says. She shuts the door slowly so it makes no sound. She comes around and kissed my neck gently.

“I bet Bucky would love to see you cum with from my fingers” Nat whispers to both of us and Bucky let’s put a groan. “Not here let’s go to me and Buck’s room.” I say to both of them.

-

Nat pushes Bucky into the room and I shut and look the door. I walk over to them and strip my clothes. I walk behind Nat and she tenses. Her breath hitches, her body lends into me. “Turn around Natty.” I say to her.

She turns around slowly as I signal Bucky to take off his clothes. Looking up and down my body her eyes are dilated. “Let’s get you out of the clothes.” I say to her. I pull her clothes off her body. Our lips meet as I reach back and start to pull her zipper down. The dress pools on the floor. She didn’t wear underwear and no bra.

I almost automatically reach out to touch her and she grabs my hands. “Spending so much time with Bucky must have made you think you are in control. A little secret I have is I’m always in control and you are to listen.” She says to me. She pulls me into her and our lips meet. The kiss is passionate and Natasha is in full control. The way her breath stagers. When we pull away we turn to see Bucky.

He is staring in the politest way. He is trying to hide he is hard from us. As I see this I walk over to him and give him that reassurance he needs. “Hey Bucky it is ok for you to be turned on. You aren’t objectifying anyone. We want you to be a part of this and it is ok for you to let go. In here with us you are safe..” I pause after I made it all the way over to him. I take his hand in mine. I kiss his wrist with a feathery light kiss. “You are respected.” I go up placing another kiss a little higher. “You are important.” I say then place another one. “And you are wanted.” I say to him. Then I place a kiss right on his cheek.

“What is your safe word baby?” I ask him. “Gold.” He says while staring with this certain amazement. “What is your color?” I ask as I stand up and put my hand gently on his neck. “Green.” He says. “Ok, remember what to do if your mouth is full or you can’t talk?” I ask him. “I tap your inter thigh twice.” He says. “You got all of that Nat?” I ask her just so she knows. “Yah.”

Then she walks over to Bucky and sits right beside him. Her lips meet his neck while I kiss him. I take control of our kiss but pull away. I start to walk away but come back as fast as possible. I have hand cuffs, a strap on, a ball gag, and a few other things.

Nat is now on top of Bucky and they are kissing hard. I can tell Bucky almost immediately gave up control. I set the stuff on the bed. The thing I didn’t expect was Nat to take control of me. She gets off Bucky and kisses me with extreme passion. I pull away first. I walk over to Bucky and push him to the bed. He is rock hard and I palm him with feathery teasing touches.

Nat straddles Bucky and I pull my hand away. I climb onto his face. “You better not slack off while Nat is riding you. Show me just how good you are with that mouth babe.” I say to him. He loops his arms around my hips. He pulls me down while Nat eases onto him. I pick my self up and turn around facing Nat. As she goes down I reach out for her clit. I rub it gently and she starts to take more of him. I kiss her before she can let out her moan.

Bucky starts to dig in before I turn around a final time. I wanted it to be easier for him. His tongue goes deep as it can go before pulling out. He takes what he collected and runs his tongue over my clit. He rubs in small neat circles. Nat reaches around and puts her hand on my neck. It wasn’t hard but a light pressure.

“Neither of you cum yet.” She commands over both of us. I can feel Bucky’s hips going up to meet her. The walk his tongue is working magic. “Cum” she commands. We all cum together.

After coming down from that orgasm I get up. I get a glass of water for all of us and walk into Nat laying down. She looks peaceful and calm. Bucky is waiting for me. I place the glasses of water down. Nat starts to get up and starts to pick up her clothes.

“Sorry I won’t intrude any longer.” She says her head is down. “Hey Natasha.” I say. She keeps looking for her other shoe. I walk to her and slide my arms around her waist from behind. “ can you look at me?” I asks nicely.

She turns around the look in her eyes of confusion. I wrap our hands together they go perfectly together. I pull her hand up to my mouth and place a kiss on her inter wrist. “You are respected.” I say then give another kiss to her. “You are important.” Then another kiss. “ you are safe.” I say then go a little farther. “You are an amazing human being that is wanted and special to both of us.” I say then place a kiss on her lips gently.

“Now I want you to come and cuddle with us.” I say. I grab her and pull her to the bed. “They are very convincing. If your not careful you will fall for that reassurance fast. It is how she got me too.” He says in a dramatic voice. Natasha smirks and looks at me as I crawl into the bed beside her. I have her where she is between me and Bucky. “I don’t think I would mind falling for that.” Nat says.

“Maybe this could happen more often? Or maybe you could become a permanent addition to this?” I ask and suggested. “I think I would like that.” Nat says.

That It is how we fall asleep. Nat between me and Bucky. A bundle of limbs. She leans into my chest and Bucky puts his arms around her. Now she will know what she means to us. That it will never be about sex it is about our connection to her.

If you want to be added to my Taglist go here

#bucky x female reader #natasha romanoff fluff #natasha romanov #Natasha romanoff #bucky x natasha #bucky x y/n #james buchanan bucky barnes #james barnes #James barns x reader #Bucky smut #Natasha smut #Bucky and Natasha smut #Bucky x Natasha x reader smut #Bucky x Natasha x reader #bottom bucky barnes

[princecharmingwinks]

i cant believe you said you dont write for fandoms!! these are ending up AMAZING! have another fail date for you to make better: we went four-wheel driving over the dunes out bush, we took my car but he drove because he's done the route before. we were the second car in the convoy and because my car is a little smaller than the others it couldnt make it up the last dune! it nearly made it over before sliding back into the sand and ended up half buried! (1/2)

(2/2) the rest of the group had to drag and push us out with planks and chains etc while we were stuck inside because no way in hell i was opening the door to let the sand in! so three wheels in the sand, waiting on our rescue, irl it was a bit awkward but im hoping you'll rewrite a better ending <3

Awww concussed dragon, you are sooo sweet! Thank you! Your unique failed dates are great to work with. Alrighty, let's get into this one! So the pack got big in this one and while most don't have lines, I liked the idea of everyone being there (or almost for anyone I missed haha). I left some of the couple combos up to interpretation so feel free to ship at your leisure.

---

The pack, after much pestering from a certain human/spark, were finally going on their camping trip. The alpha had finally conceded when Stiles had shot him a pout and hopeful eyes. Derek had reluctantly agreed and ignored the snickering of his betas in the corner of the room.

On the morning of the trip, everyone was pairing up into groups of drivers and passengers so no one drove alone and there were less cars.

Derek and Stiles were the last members out of the rebuilt Hale House. Derek had been locking up and Stiles was finishing off some wards to ensure there were no unwanted visitors while they were away. He was still learning to harness his spark but small wards of protection were easy enough. Defensive magic was easier, offensive was another story.

Stiles threw his bag into the back of the jeep and glanced around.

"So, who's joining Roscoe and me?"

Erica snickered, "Derek."

"What?" Stiles and Derek snapped in unison. Well at least Stiles had a punctuation mark, Derek's not so much.

"I'm with Danny, Lydia and Jacks." Kira spoke up. "Scott, Malia, and Isaac are with Allison."

"I'm obviously with my boy." Erica jumped onto Boyd's back, who was used to his girlfriend's antics and easily caught her. "And Theo is meeting us there after picking up Liam from work. Everyone's paired up so that just leaves you two."

Stiles felt his heart flutter but managed to keep his voice even as he spoke, "Alright Alpha My Alpha, let's get going."

Derek didn't say a word as he slid into the passenger seat of the jeep. Everything would be fine.

Everything was not fine. Stiles was definitely going through a quarter life crisis at the realisation most of the pack were in couples. How did he not realise that? When had it become a prerequisite to start dating a pack member? And now it was just Stiles and the alpha. The alpha he had been in love with for years. Great...

"What's wrong?"

Stiles was pulled out of his internal panic by said alpha's soothing voice. Derek had softened over the years, showing care and concern for each member of the pack. He now bought scent-free nail polish for Erica (so the acid smell didn't upset all the were's noses), stocked Isaac's favourite gummybears and even hugged Kira willingly at her university graduation. Derek Hale was a softie.

"I'm fine, nothing wrong here, no sir." Stiles prattled. Even he heard the blatant lies without supernatural healing. He glanced to his side and was greeted by raised eyebrows.

"Ok, so I may have just realised how paired up everyone in the pack really is."

"Except us."

"Yeah," Stiles sighed. "Except us. Do you ever think about that? Like, why you haven't dated anyone since..." He trailed off. Derek didn't have the best track record for his love interests but he hadn't even been on a date for more than 3 years.

Derek looked out the window at the scenary, they were driving into the sand dune part of the journey, and for a moment Stiles thought he wasn't going to answer.

"I've been waiting."

Stiles blinked. Huh?

"For someone so smart, you're really clueless sometimes." Derek huffed, glancing back at Stiles.

"What have you been waiting for?" Stiles dared to ask. They had paused to allow Allison's four-wheel-drive to roll up the last sand dune, waiting for their turn. Roscoe would be the last time to make the climb.

"I thought it was my imagination at first but then you kept coming around and..."

It was Roscoe's turn now and Stiles slowly prepared for the final climb of the dune. He tried to keep focused on the task at hand, allowing Derek to speak his thoughts. You never rushed the alpha when he was being vulnerable.

"I know you kind of like me?" Derek voiced it as a question but all Stiles heard was sirens in his brain. Derek knew? Stiles' foot slid off the peddle and they immediately started rolling backwards, fast.

"Shit! Shit, shit shit." Stiles acted quickly but it wasn't enough. Roscoe descended the sand dune and sank, refusing to move. Sand on either side of them blocked the bottom of their doors. They were officially stuck.

Stiles rested his head on the steering wheel and slowed his breathing. There were multiple crises going on but most had solutions.

The others would work out they hadn't made the climb soon enough or Theo and Liam would find them on their way through. So either way, Roscoe being stuck wasn't a massive deal. The real dilemma was Stiles' outed feelings for Derek.

The same Derek that was eyeing Stiles with concern as he called Kira to request some assist. Stiles heard him hang up before the sound of a door handle being jiggled. He snapped his head up.

"Whoa there sourwolf, there is to be no sand storm in this car, thankyouverymuch." He reached out and tugged the alpha's hand away from the door.

"I figured me getting out and pushing was the preferred option to sitting here with you in a state of panic at my assumption."

Stiles pulled his hand back. "What?"

"Look, we can just forget I ever said anything, alright? I get I'm not the most desirable crush to have. It's probably just familiarity and your sense of loyalty that's fueled your scent around me anyway. Don't worry about it."

Stiles shook his head, "Oh no you don't. You opened that can of worms and I'm no coward." The spark met Derek's gaze. Had he been planning on ignoring his feelings for the alpha? Sure. But was he going to run away from a moment like this? Nope. Stiles Stilinski was a lot of things but after running with wolves and other supernaturals for most of his life, he knew when he needed to tackle something head on.

"Now, before you go down your rabbit hole of I'm-not-good-enough crazy talk, I've got something to say."

Derek nodded like the soft alpha he was and turned to face Stiles more fully.

"You, Derek Alexander Hale, are amazing. A little on the martyr side but that's because you are so protective of your pack. I'd be crazy to not fall in love with you. That's right, love not like. I've been in love with you for years but how was a kid like me going to catch the alpha's eye? I didn't want to ruin our friendship. This," He gestured between them. "This is important to me. I don't want to ruin it."

Derek released a sigh of relief? Stiles couldn't read his eyebrows which was disappointing when he was the most expert at interpreting the alpha's facial expressions.

Then Derek was darting forward and claiming Stiles' lips in a searing kiss. Stiles went with it, almost unbelieving that any of this was happening.

Derek eventually pulled back and rested his forehead against Stiles'.

"Worth the wait." The alpha whispered, grinning, bunny teeth all on display.

"Two way street here. You could've said something too. How long have you liked me?"

Derek blushed and it was only because they were so close that Stiles saw the pink of his cheeks and ears.

"I've always liked you, even if I didn't always show it. But love? I think I've loved you since you woke me up on an elevator floor by punching me. You could have left without me but you didn't."

Stiles pouted, "Since then?"

Derek raised an eyebrow, "What's wrong?"

Stiles pushed Derek back and clumsily crawled across the gear stick to straddle the alpha's lap.

"We could have been having the best sex of my life for years, Derek! Years! We've got a lot of making up to do." Stiles dove in to kiss Derek this time. The alpha happily drew Stiles in closer, curling his arms around the spark's slim waist.

A knock on the window, interrupted their make-out session. Boyd's face appeared with judging eyebrows to rival Derek's.

"Heard you needed a hand." Boyd spoke loudly with a smirk as Derek's hand moved away from Stiles' ass to rest safely on his back.

"What's Erica doing?" Stiles asked, leaning over Derek to squint at the blonde chatting wildly on the phone. Derek focused his hearing.

"Turns out I'm not the only one who was waiting." Derek grinned, "And everyone apparently owes Lydia money."

They did eventually get Roscoe out of the sand dune thanks to the advantages of going camping with multiple supernatural creatures. By the time everyone was settled in the camp and Erica had informed Theo and Liam on the events of the day, Lydia was a very rich woman.

Stiles couldn't complain though. Not when the alpha was snuggled between his legs as Stiles sat on the log and Derek roasted them marshmallows. Apparently no one trusted Stiles near an open flame following the incident with that vampire clan. Stiles combed his fingers through Derek's hair and looked around at the pack. This camping trip was the best idea ever.

--

Ok so I must confess I do not camp like...ever and have no idea how four-wheel-driving works so please forgive any major errors in that department. I tweaked things a bit from your prompt sorry. I just couldn't imagine Stiles letting anyone else drive Roscoe. Hope you enjoyed! Thanks for popping in!

#sterek #teen wolf #derek hale #stiles stilinski #princecharminganswers #princecharmingwrites

[be-gay-do-heists]

there’s something about the love for things you like (hey trendsetter)

“Hardison, I know the point of this grift was to stand out, but are you sure that’s not a little over the top?”

The hacker smiled at the voice in his ear, brushing an imaginary piece of lint off of his outfit in view of the security cameras overlooking the ballroom, whose feed he knew was currently being displayed to Nate and Sophie in Lucille. He pretended not to hear the wonderstruck whispers of the other guests around him. “Nate, I made these clothes myself, I would know if it was over the top.”

Ok, so maybe hand-made clothes were themselves a little much, but he had been dying to trot out this suit forever. The half-tunic was composed of rich blue and gray silks which he had been particularly excited about because he’d never sewn on silk before, and had gone down a rabbit hole on the technique research alone. The layered panels of fabric hung around his torso in a deceptively simple pattern, and one side draped elegantly down to his knee, swishing as he walked and revealing the brocaded reverse side. The perfectly-tailored white pants were simple enough, even if he had embellished the French seam with a decorative stitch and gold thread. As for the matching white slippers, well… shoes would be the next garment craft he picked up, looking down at them in slight disappointment and imagining how the perfect pair could elevate this outfit to the next level.

Sophie’s voice this time. “It’s perfect. Just start establishing your presence.”

Hardison began moving leisurely across the room, letting his attire do the talking for him. Despite the crowded space, the party-goers around him seemed to move out of his way on their own so they could marvel at him; it was easy to stand out amid the bland tuxes that surrounded him. He looked around the room, scanning for the mark, affecting a disinterested attitude. Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted a familiar shade of hair and turned just slightly to catch Eliot’s eye. The fighter was working waitstaff for this part of the con, bearing a tray of champagne flutes and a disarming smile, the latter strangely absent from his face for a brief second as he looked over at Hardison. Puzzled, the hacker startled slowly making his way over, stopping by the bar momentarily to look at the fine liquors displayed behind the counter (and not seeing anything nearly sweet enough for his taste). As he approached, Eliot noticed him and Hardison registered the slight delay, the stuttered blink. “Champagne,” the hitter grunted, offering the tray more brusquely than he might do with a different guest.

Hardison accepted one of the glasses and watched Eliot’s reaction as he slowly took a sip, smiling afterwards. “Watch out before you drop that tray,” he said, gesturing.

The hitter recovered himself. “Dammit Hardison,” he growled under his breath in response.

“It’s the suit, isn’t it. You like the suit,” the hacker said, letting a hint of gloating enter his voice and waggling his eyebrows.

Eliot delayed his reply to offer a drink to a passing guest, professional disposition fully back in place. He made sure no one was looking at them before turning back and pointing a finger at Hardison. “You’re distracting me,” he hissed. Hardison just rolled his eyes and let flowing fabric swish a little as he changed his posture. He watched with satisfaction as Eliot’s gaze followed the movement. “Did you really make that yourself, man?” the hitter whispered.

“Of course he did, Hardison can do anything,” Parker said, popping up behind them and startling them both. She ignored their surprised expressions and shook her head to jangle her dangly earrings (Hardison knew she thought the feeling was fun). Shock aside, the way she said it made Hardison’s chest ache. It was like she was saying The joints on this climbing harness are made of a carbon fiber polymer, or Eliot will catch me if I jump out of this window. Like it was a fact. He hid his expression in the champagne glass.

“Ok, enough chit-chat,” Nate’s voice buzzed in their ears. “Fleischman is approaching the bar. Parker, you’re up.” There was a clacking noise in the background, and Hardison could imagine the mastermind pecking at the keyboard trying to get a closer view on the cameras.

Parker shifted nervously, fingers picking at the seam of her evening gown. “There’s a lot of people around. Loud people. I don’t know if I can do this. I need one of you guys to help me.” She murmured the last bit very quietly.

“I’ll be guiding you the entire time, don’t worry, Parker. Hardison, go ahead and walk over with her, and stand nearby at the bar; you’ll be a good distraction for keeping Fleischman’s eyes off of her nerves,” Sophie weighed in.

“Don’t go overboard,” Eliot growled from next to them, readjusting his tray and moving off to get a better angle on the room. Hardison felt the hitter’s free hand brush his back as he left, warm and solid, and knew what Eliot was really saying was Be careful.

He grinned widely as he offered an arm to Parker. “May I walk you to the bar for a drink?”

The thief cracked her neck and breathed out before taking it. “Let’s do this.”

#miko speaks #leverage #fic #my fic #hardison appreciation hours always #title from trndsttr by black coast feat m maggie aka the ultimate hardison song #this is just a short taste of fic!! i wanna work on babyfic this afternoon and hopefully ill have that up by the end of the day #alec hardison #eliot spencer #parker leverage #nate ford #sophie devereaux

[exhausted-dog-mom]

Underwater (2020) Fix It Fanfic

Last year, I was commissioned to write a fix it fic for the horror movie Underwater. I had no idea it was a horror movie until after I agreed to write it, lol. I'm a coward at the best of times and writing this gave me nightmares for months. It's 24k words and almost 55 pages long. I rewrote the whole dang movie, lol. The entire fic is on my Patreon, but here are the first 2k words. 

           Norah followed behind Rodrigo as they picked their way carefully through the debris. Her body shivered uncontrollably, her meager clothing long soaked through by water of questionable quality. The tinny, prerecorded voice of the infographics which once lined the walls echoed in the too tight hallways, skipping as sparks crackled along the broken screens. Great slabs of concrete and torn sheets of metal made their progress slow, their flashlights illuminating little more than water. The hallway they were following to CR-7 was far from a direct route, but it was the only one they were both able to traverse, and Norah knew she wasn’t alone in wanting to stick together—not after closing the bulkheads.

           She dismissed that thought. She didn’t have time to think about that. Not when the path before them suddenly stopped, the way forward cut off by a serious cave in.

           “Can we dig through there?” She asked, watching as Rodrigo crouched down and began moving loose bits of rubble.

           He called back, uncertain but willing to try, and Norah began scanning the area for alternate routes. They didn’t have time to double back and find another way. The Kepler wouldn’t last long and every second they wasted not getting to the pods was another second the entire station deteriorated around them.

           She took a chance and put her weight on a ledge above where Rodrigo was digging, shining her light down a narrow passage that might allow them both through. Maybe.

           “Hey,” she called down to her colleague. “I can fit through there if you can.”

           He came up and looked at her discovery, considering the rough looking tunnel.

           Distantly, Norah heard something. A voice. She had to turn her head to catch it, the hearing in her left ear completely gone, but it was there.

           “Hello?” She called out, hope rising in her throat. “Hello? Can you hear that?” She didn’t wait for Rodrigo’s response, leaving him behind as she clambered over derelict ductwork and dodged sharp edges, shining her flashlight on everything as she searched desperately for any sign of life. “Keep talking, I can hear you!”

           She turned her right ear to the ground, tracing the source of the muffled voice to a pile of concrete slabs, the edges sharp against her hands as she began to pull on them with a strength she didn’t know she had. Rodrigo came up beside her, helping to free whoever was trapped underneath. The first thing she saw as they pulled back a layer of rubble was a stuffed rabbit, the furlike fabric covered in grease and who knew what else. She stared at it, confused, for all of two seconds before joy and recognition filled her with renewed vigor.

           “Paul?” Sure enough, as she took the rabbit from upstretched hands, her friend’s face came into view, his eyes clenched shut against the brightness of Rodrigo’s flashlight. She handed the rabbit to Rodrigo, reaching down into the crevice to get better leverage for lifting Paul’s not insignificant weight. With Rodrigo’s help, she pushed back the final slab, revealing the drill worker in all his bare chested glory, his skin coated in dust and grime. His hand held on to hers tightly and she watched as recognition bloomed in his eyes.

           “Norah?”

           “Hi.” She was as breathless as he was, a shaky laugh passing through chattering teeth.

           Paul smiled up at her, squeezing her hand as he laughed right back. “Oh, you sweet, flat chested elven creature.”

           She couldn’t even be mad at him. She was sure she made quite the sight, in her sports bra and sweats, but it was no better than his.

           She watched her friend breathe harshly for a second, lungs taking full advantage of their renewed capacity now that the weight of the debris was no longer crushing his chest. She knew the instant his brain had reoxygenated, because he turned to Rodrigo, a man he’d probably never interacted with before, like Norah, and asked after his rabbit.

           His concern for his little buddy was endearing, though she knew the stuffed toy couldn’t hold a candle to the real Little Paul, alive and waiting seven miles above them on dry land.

           Getting Paul out of the hole was a process, but they did it, the large man standing before them in nothing but a robe, boxers, and one lucky sock. He cradled the rabbit against his chest like a living animal, his attachment to the thing so much stronger after so long down in the deep.

           Norah lead the way back down the hall, flickering blue lights casting eerie shadows on the walls. “There are pods in CR-7,” she explained over her shoulder, the joy she felt at finding her friend alive tempered by a renewed desperation to get out. “The upper decks are collapsing, so we’ve gotta move fast.”

           She pulled herself up onto the ledge, Rodrigo helping her from below. She caught the tail end of Paul’s whining complaint and she rolled her eyes. Leave it to him to find something to complain about during a life or death situation.

           Paul was much larger than either her or Rodrigo, but, as Norah crawled through the cramped tunnel, she was pretty sure he’d be able to fit. She had little trouble scooting through the dark, her movements sending the light from her flashlight in all sorts of disorienting directions. Everything was grey, with the exception of the odd wire or two, exposed copper stinging her wet skin as she brushed up against it. She turned back to look at her two companions, the men clearly having a harder time than she was.

           “You guys ok?”

           “Yeah,” Rodrigo nodded to her, dust clinging to his dark skin. Behind him, Paul grumbled out an affirming expletive.

           Turning back, she immediately recoiled, flashlight dropping from her grasp and teeth clacking loudly in her skull.

           Closing her eyes against the terrifying sight, she called back to the boys. “There’s-there’s someone up here.” She swallowed thickly. “It’s McClellen.”

           Just like that, the high from unburying Paul was gone, replaced by the grim certainty that his survival was nothing short of a miracle and the odds of finding anyone else alive were incredibly slim.

           How many were left alive? How many more would there be if she had waited just a little longer? How many were dead because of her?

           McClellen had no answers for her, blue eyes locked unseeing on something far in the distance. Norah took a shaky breath, bolstering herself as she began to move past the other woman. Their hands touched as she did, the fading warmth she felt deepening the ever growing pit in her stomach.

           If she’d waited, would McClellen still be alive?

           Would Paul be dead?

           Those questions, like all the others, were tossed aside as she resumed the slow journey forward, eyes locked on the darkness ahead of her. There was no telling what waited out there, just beyond the range of her flashlight, but she didn’t have time to lose herself to what ifs and should haves. There were two men behind her, two living, breathing men, and that was enough. It had to be enough.

           The cramped tunnel let out to an open space—another hallway, by the looks of it—and Norah carefully climbed out and set her feet on the ground. The light here was red, a sign that the emergency systems were working, at least, and she could only hope that the way to the escape pods was open. She led the way, following a mental map of the rig as automated voices rang out overhead. Their flashlights reflected off the tall windows which surrounded the evacuation room, the reinforced glass surprisingly intact compared to the wreckage all around it. Norah stumbled over a rogue pipe, her mind going blank as it struggled to put together what she was seeing.

           “Captain?”

           Sparks flew, the display illuminating Captain Lucien’s back where he sat hunched over inside the closed off rotunda. He made no indication that he’d heard her, his head in his hands as he sat alone in the dark. Norah hit the control panel, but he didn’t react to the obnoxious sound it made in protest. Squinting through the glass, her heart sank as she took in the damage surrounding him, the escape pods they’d all put so much hope in clearly no longer an option.

           “Shit.”

           “Shit?” Paul winced as he came over to stand beside her, looking over her shoulder into the dark. “What’s shit?”

           “The evac pods are gone.” Norah tuned out her friend’s frenzied cursing as she pounded on the glass, calling for her Captain. Could he even hear her through the reinforced windows? They were designed to withstand sudden changes in pressure—likely why they were still intact—but did that mean they also blocked out sound?

           The answer was no, they couldn’t, and Norah deflated with relief when Lucien turned around, face lighting up as he recognized first her then the men behind her.

           “Norah,” he called, his voice muffled but still intelligible through the glass as he rushed over. “You’re alive.” He didn’t sound like he believed it, but she could understand the sentiment. “The door’s jammed.”

           Right. Of course, it was. He probably would have left if it wasn’t. Norah quickly moved over to the control panel, mentally apologizing to the machine for hitting it as she tried to find some way to override the lock. Absently, she recognized the Captain giving orders to Paul and Rodrigo, both men rushing to obey, though Paul complained loudly between hissing breaths.

           “On a scale of one to ten, how bad’s my rig?”

           His attempt at humor fell a little flat and Norah looked up at him incredulously as the doors opened. “Uh,” she looked him up and down in the harsh white lights which conveniently decided to turn back on. His left arm was in a sling, miscellaneous bruises and cuts littered across his face. Shit. “Ten. We’re, um, seventy percent compromised—breathe too hard and we’re in trouble.”

           He didn’t appreciate her candor, turning away from her with a grim expression before turning back around and reaching for her face with his good hand, looking at her damaged ear with a grimace.

           “What happened,” she asked through chattering teeth, the two seconds she’d spent standing still reminding her body of how cold it was. “Was it an earthquake?”

           “I don’t know.” That wasn’t what she wanted to hear. “I’m trying to figure it out.”

           She watched, still somewhat dazed, as he pulled a large red med kit out from seemingly nowhere, using his one hand to its full effectiveness as he rummaged through it.

           “I don’t understand.” Her voice forced its way through her tight throat, swallowing only thickening the knot living there. “Why are you still here? There were pods here, you could have left.”

           He gave her a look she was sure he’d leveled on his child a thousand times before. It certainly made her feel like one. “That’s what Captains do.”

           “Who cares?” She couldn’t stop the words or the incredulity which laced them. “You have a kid. You should have gone up.”

           He froze, expression blank as his mouth opened and closed, eyes shut as he tried to find the words to respond to that. Instead, he urged her to sit down, returning to the med kit as though she hadn’t said anything.

           “You know any one of us would have shoved your ass into a pod—.”

           “Listen to me!”

           Norah shut her mouth, staring wide eyed at her Captain as he kneeled in front of her, mouth tense as he glared up at her. His French accent was thicker in his anger, coloring his words as he gestured wildly with his good arm.

           “Everyone is getting out of here alive.” He said it with such conviction, Norah was almost able to believe him. “You here me? I already sent twenty two up, Smith reported seven dead.”

           Warmth spread in her chest at the news that Smith, at least, was still alive. She hadn’t let herself consider any other possibilities but having her old friend’s survival confirmed relieved a tension she hadn’t realized she was carrying. She gave a stuttering report of the dead she and Rodrigo had found before coming across Paul, and she struggled past telling him about McClellen, nonsensical words spilling from her lips—she lived three floors up, I was brushing my teeth, her hands were still warm, I shut the bulkheads on the entire East Wing so there’s definitely more.

           Captain Lucien, to his credit, remained staunchly focused on cleaning her ear, damp gauze coming away from it bloody. Whatever was wrong with it, it stung when he touched it, the pain a welcome reminder that she was alive, only living people could bleed, and a grim one that so many people weren’t.

#fanfiction #my writing #underwater #underwater 2020 #this took months to finish #i really am a coward #nothing in the synopsis prepared me for a horror movie #i thought it was just a survival drama #lmao

[sam-winchester-admiration-league]

When Supernatural airs the eagerly anticipated conclusion to the saga of the Brothers Winchester on Thursday, Nov. 19, the WB-turned-CW series will bid adieu after a truly impressive 15 seasons. The massive and occasionally unwieldy body of work that Supernatural leaves behind has something for every flavor of fan. Creepy ghosts? Check. Sexy vampires? Check. Not-so-sexy vampires? Check. Monsters of the week? Meta rabbit holes? Goofy parodies? Check, check, and check.

The most enduring element, however, and the one that certainly draws this crazy, beautiful, dysfunctional fandom together, has to be the epic love story of Sam (Jared Padalecki) and Dean (Jensen Ackles). Theirs is the bromance that has been at the core of Supernatural’s soul from the very beginning, back before we even knew their story was being manipulated by Chuck (Rob Benedict), aka God, who claimed they were his “favorite show.” While a few friends — Bobby (Jim Beaver), Castiel (Misha Collins), and Jack (Alexander Calvert) — endured season upon season, eventually claiming their own place in the family that don’t end with blood, it will be Sam and Dean in the end, just like it was in the beginning. Friends come and go, but Winchesters are forever.

Now, Sam and Dean’s relationship is not always pretty, and it can be argued that it’s not always healthy — heck, I have argued that it’s not healthy — but it certainly makes for compelling, if somewhat repetitive, storytelling. How many times are Dean and Sam going to fling themselves into certain death all for their brotherly love of one another? How many times will the one left behind drag the other out of literal Hell, whether he likes it or not? And how many times will one brother turn evil? The storylines are cyclical. We’ve seen these things happen again and again, and yet we keep coming back, because even though Supernatural has told the same story quite a few times over the last 15 seasons, Sam and Dean do grow — or at least change — as a result of their experiences.

When Meg (Nicki Aycox) possessed Sam in Season 2’s “Born Under a Bad Sign,” both brothers were on the same page — Meg possessing Sam was a Bad Thing. It had to be fixed. It was horrific, an unquestionable violation, and a few episodes later, both brothers were found to be sporting their iconic chest tattoos to ensure something like that never ever happened again. Being possessed by Lucifer (Mark Pellegrino) in Season 5 was different though. It was still a violation, still a horror, but one that Sam invited upon himself as a necessity to save the world, and one that Dean supported — albeit with extreme reluctance — as the right play. The Winchesters are big damn heroes and this is what big damn heroes do.

And then came Gadreel (Tahmoh Penikett). It was another violation, another horror. But unlike a sacrifice for the greater good, taken willingly and accepted by both brothers as a vital sacrifice that they had no choice but to make, Gadreel entered the picture in a moment of sheer panic. Dean manipulated Sam because of his own personal desire for Sam to live. And Sam did live, but he was horrified and hurt, while Dean said he’d do it all again in a heartbeat.

It’s OK to tell the same story, as long as you’re not actually telling the same story — and isn’t that what all of Chuck’s endless variations of the Winchester are in the show’s final season? The Sams and Deans from the alternate universe who end up murdering each other are not telling the same story as our Sam and Dean. Nor are the displaced hipster Sam and Dean. Or Squirrel Sam and Dean. And yet they are, because there is something so fundamentally Sam and Dean about Sam and Dean that no variation is any less compelling than another.

For 15 seasons, we have not been able to look away from Sam and Dean’s hard-to-define relationship. Is it love? Is it lust? Is it codependency wrapped up in floofy hair and flannel? Maybe. At the end of the day, it’s fiction, and fiction is beautiful because it lets us climb to all kinds of heights and crawl through any number of depths far outside of our own experiences.

The epic love story of Sam and Dean is a prism at times, and a mirror at others. We can see what we want to see, or we can see something more. We can see ourselves reflected in their story, in small ways here and there, or we can see nothing of ourselves and just appreciate a thrilling adventure, a gripping gothic horror, or a spooky mystery. But after all these years, the supernatural aspects are not what is so magical about Supernatural. Yes, it may be the thing that drew eyes initially — I like a good ghost story, and some of those early WB promos were rife with the promise that Supernatural was going to be sexy and scary — but that’s not all the show was when it began, nor is today. Sometimes Supernatural is rather silly. Sometimes it’s repetitive. Sometimes it becomes mired in its attempts to tell new stories after all this time. But in the end, there i s always Sam and Dean in the center of it all, the point of the compass, guiding this series home. (x)

Source: https://www.tvguide.com/news/features/supernatural-sam-dean-winchester-relationship/

#Supernatural #sam winchester #dean winchester #jared padalecki #jensen ackles #TV guide article #epic love story of Sam and Dean

[kimistorm]

My Heart Gone Missing [Chapter 8]

Fandom: Studio Ghibli (Howl’s Moving Castle)

Pairing: Friendship! Howl x GN! Reader

Warnings: None

Masterlist

You arrived back at your home with a slam of the door, “I had the chance! I was almost there!” you shouted and stormed into your home.

“Let me guess, your ‘foolproof’ plan failed?” Marius questioned in a deadpanned tone, “why am I not surprised?”

“Shut your face Marius!” you roared back at him and angrily jabbed a finger in his direction, “I am not in the mood to deal with you right now.”

“Geez ok.” Marius glanced away as if a rabbit hole would appear to take him away, “no need to get your underwear in a twist.”

You took a deep breath and forced the air through your nose. Calmly, you took a bowl off of the counter and walked over to Marius’ bowl. As you made your way across the room, Marius looked at you apprehensively and tried to shrink into his blue and white container. Then, without warning, you slammed the bowl in your hands over Marius and briskly walked away towards the stairs that led to the second floor.

“What the- (f/n)!” you could hear Marius’ muffled roars and felt pride at the little revenge that you had gotten, “let me out!” you could hear little pounding sounds which you guessed was him using his little water hands to express his anger. “(f/n)!”

You climbed the wooden, slightly creaky, stairs up to the second floor which housed your own bedroom as well as a bathroom. You entered your, rather large, bedroom and fell heavily onto the quilted bed. Once again, you were left alone with your thoughts. “I’ve made so many mistakes.” You groaned and pressed the heels of your hands into your eyes. “Marius, attempting to turn into a bird, that invisibility spell, breaking into Howl’s house!” hot tears of frustration built up and fell away as you blinked, “ugh!”

You looked around your heavily decorated room to find a distraction, which happened to be a fantasy book. “This’ll take my mind off of things.” You decided as you heaved yourself off of your bed to pick up the book. Only to return to your bed and curl up comfortably.

You were pleasantly entertained for about half an hour until a thought bubbled up and interrupted your happy reading. “These guys are wizards! They’re twelve years old and already can do magic better than me!” the cheerful mood you were in was shattered to reveal the frustration and anger that seemed to persist. Even after your multiple outbursts.

“Why?” you demanded and hurled the book across the room, where it crashed against the wall and crumpled to the ground. “This. Is. Ridiculous!” your anger reared its ugly head up again and you shoved off the books stacked on your bedside table. A little voice in the back of your mind was thankful you didn’t knock off any precious trinkets or glass objects. “Already graduated the academy.” You hurled your pillow across the room and it knocked a frame off of the wall. “Graduated with top marks.” Another pillow was thrown across the room. “I had a plan for my future!” the blankets were torn off of your bed and left in a heap on the floor. “And I haven’t done a single thing.” Here, you let yourself fall to your knees and the tears ran free. “Why?” you wailed and fell onto the pile of blankets as a sobbing mess. “This is sad.” You quietly murmured and hiccuped into your blankets.

You woke up the next morning hungry and sore.

#reader insert #x reader #kimi's writing #howl's moving castle #studio ghibli #studio ghibli reader insert #studio ghibli x reader #studio ghilibi #studio ghibli imagine #studio ghibli fanfic #howl pendragon #howls moving castle reader insert #howl pendragon x reader #howl's moving castle reader insert #howl x reader #howls moving castle x reader #howls moving castle fanfic #howl's moving castle fanfic #howls moving castle

[itsmeevie01]

A Moment in Time- Ch 11

MASTERPOST

wow, this took a while! in all honesty? it was the effort it took to get back inside Tim's head. moving on, please check the A/N at the end, for the rest of the going ons and comments on the...cannon compliance. or lack of, therefore. a warning? I threw cannon out the window before I started. oh! and this ch mentions kind of vague suicide? so, if that's a trigger, skip the headlines about Adrien. (don't worry, I haven't killed him..yet)

While Marinette was giving Adrien a heart attack, across the ocean, the girl was also giving Tim Drake one.

It had been almost 24 hours since he had heard from the very prompt Marinette. After their last email, he had gone to bed. When he had woken up the next day, he had lunged for his computer only to find that his inbox sat empty. When he had checked it again after his first coffee, Tim was again disappointed.

After that, he had set his inbox to notify him if something from his friend came in.

Now, as he sat in his car after work, Tim anxiously hovered his finger over the email icon. He had stayed late to distract himself and had fallen asleep at his desk.  It was 11 at night, and his phone had gone off with a call from Alfred. The butler had been trying to get in contact with him, concerned that he had been kidnapped again.

Hesitantly, Tim thumbed his way into the drafts of his email and looked over the top one.

 From: [email protected]

To: [email protected]

Marinette,

I apologize if you feel that I have overstepped in the past 24 hours. I truly did not intend to find out from Jason. I had intended to ask you when you came for the Gala.

I know that we usually average 2-3 emails a day, but I wanted to give you some space to process if you needed.

I look forward to you joining us in Gotham, in a few weeks. I know that with all that is going on with Hawkmoth, you must be relieved to leave the city for some time. Alfred will probably reach out, but I was wondering if there was anything we could do to make your stay more enjoyable? Times around the galas are always a bit hectic, and I don’t want to make your life any more difficult. On another side note, will you be traveling alone? International travel can be quite hectic, especially if you are flying somewhere new.

It turns out that my father’s company likes to throw curveballs, and I will be flying to Paris in the next week. If you have time, maybe we could sit down and talk?

I was reading back through our emails and realized that you may not have heard. Jason and Gina have left on some sort of adventure. The only thing that they said was that we should start checking Italian news. Do you have any idea what that may be about?

I hope to hear from you soon.

-Tim

P.S. is the offer for the super coffee recipes still open? Those coffees are sounding more and more appealing.

After hesitating one more time, Tim hit send and watched as the message disappeared from his screen. With a sigh, the teen turned his car on, and made his way out onto the late-night streets of Gotham.

When he rolled out of bed the next morning, Tim blindly reached for his phone. Before he could open his email and look for a message from Marinette, a notification caught his attention.

ITALIAN GANG EXPOSED AS ROOT OF GOTHAM DRUG ISSUE

Rolling his eyes, Tim opened that headline. There the story went into more detail and the young CEO was able to see his older brother’s fingerprints all over the discovery. At the end, it mentioned two ‘biker vigilantes’ who had ridden through town and mostly done what they could to defend those who needed help. The author noted that the duo was gone by the time the gang had been brought to justice. It was rumored that they had been the ones to take the gang down.

With a roll of his eyes, Tim sent Jason a screenshot of the story and a good job, before flipping to his email.

There, sitting at the top of his inbox was…nothing from Marinette. A frown worked its way onto Tim’s face as he refreshed his email again. When nothing came up, he moved to his computer. As he navigated to the French news site he had bookmarked Tim reminded himself that there were heroes in Paris and that there was nothing to worry about.

He quickly revised the thought as he looked at the top headline.

ADRIEN AGRESTE MISSING.

The next one read very similarly.

GABRIEL AGRESTE CLAIMS SON RAN AWAY! IS HE HIDING THE INNER BEGINNINGS OF SCANDAL?

With a click, Tim opened another news site based in Paris.

A MOTHER’S SUICIDE. A SON’S DISAPPEARANCE. A FATHER’S ABUSIVE NATURE. AN UNFILTERED LOOK AT THE AGRESTE HOUSEHOLD FROM AN INSIDE SOURCE.

Worry settled in the pit of Tim’s stomach. If there were legitimate news sources running this kind of thing, something must be going on. Marinette hadn’t mentioned anything about the boy, and most likely they weren’t friends. Hell, they probably didn’t even know the other existed. He tried to brush off the headlines as the media overdramatizing things again. However, his gut just wouldn’t let him.

With a sigh, Tim opened a separate tab and set up his computer desk for the long haul. He was going to dig into the Agreste kid. After he checked on Marinette.

It had been a lot easier to find what he was looking for than he expected. Within the first hour, Tim had tracked down the people Adrien was close to because of his father and moved onto the boy’s school friends. When he had pulled up the school the missing teen attended, Tim froze.

It was the same Lycée that Marinette attended.

In a flurry of typing, Tim pulled up the school records. There was Marinette. A few familiar faces. And then…there! in the same class was the missing blonde boy. As the young vigilante stared at the class roster, Tim felt his stomach sink. Adrien and Marinette were in the same class.

While Bruce had shrugged off the worry that Tim had, the teen knew that he had a valid concern. There was a sinking in his gut, a tightness that he couldn’t explain. All Tim knew was that this connection between Adrien Agreste and Marinette was going to change the situation in Paris, drastically.

It was at three in the morning when Tim’s email box binged.

The teen’s head was resting on the keys, his arms slack at his sides. On the screen, where the cursor was blinking a line of unintelligible letters was running. As the bing went off again, louder, and Tim jerked up in surprise and blinked owlishly at the screen.

He had begged off patrol in favor of looking into a ‘case’. He had spent the entire evening camped out at his desk digging further into all things Paris. On one window, he had the files he was compiling on the names that kept coming up, while in another he monitored three different news sites known to report on Akumas. In one of the windows that was hidden behind piles of rabbit holes, was a file with one line typed

         MARINETTE DUPAIN-CHENG

As understanding ran over his face, Tim opened a new window and clicked into his email. There, waiting for him at the top of the inbox was an email from Marinette. 

From: [email protected]

To: [email protected]

Tim,

 I am so sorry that I disappeared! One of my friends had a family emergency and I have been spending time with him helping with the fine details.

I appreciate the apology, but I can’t really blame you when Jason was being an idiot. It feels good to know that you now understand why and how Jason and I know each other. As for my older brother, last I heard, he was coming back to Paris on his way to Germany. He promised to be back in Gotham in time for the annual Holiday Gala.

You mentioned that you were coming to Paris before the Gala? Is everything ok? I would enjoy meeting you if there is time. Of course, much of my schedule will be revolving around finals, so maybe an ice cream break would be in order? Let me know when you arrive, and we can make plans!

That reminds me, I won't be on my computer much and I've been enjoying talking with you. If you want, you can text me at XX-XXX-XXXX-XX.

Have a good day,

~Marinette

P.S. I was going to send you the coffee recipes, but it would be better if I gave them to you in person!

Tension ran out of Tim’s shoulders as he reread the email. Marinette was ok, she didn’t hate him. but, as the teen reread his friend's (were they friends?) email, he realized that there was something off with her email. He couldn’t pinpoint it, but the young vigilante chalked it up to his exhaustion.

With a sleepy smile, Tim clicked out of his email and stood from the desk. A moment later, he was tumbling into bed. For once, he was asleep before his head hit the pillow.

As Bruce Wayne climbed the stairs to the upper levels of the Manor, his eyes caught on a computer bag that had been left in a nook off the stairs. With a small smile, the billionaire picked up the bag and collected the notes that had been left from whenever Tim had last worked there. it was late, and the teen had begged off patrol tonight to work on his own projects in preparation for his trip to Paris. At this time in the early morning, it would be hit or miss whether he would still be awake. Many times, when Bruce would check on Tim, the teen was passed out at his desk or on his bed surrounded with projects.

Bruce knew that Tim was working himself to the bone before his trip to Paris. The teen had dug into the supervillain problem that Jared Stone’s niece had mentioned to him. Bruce really hoped that Tim hadn’t put together that Jason was related to the girl, because that could cause problems within the family. Not because of the actual connection, but the secrecy that he and Jason had used to handle it.

With sending Tim to Paris there was a certain media risk. The only reason that Bruce was willing to risk the media was the fact that his son was the most informed on the supervillain situation. That, and there was actual clean-up work that needed to be done after finding corruption in their Parisian office.

As the billionaire cracked open Tim’s door, a smile crossed the man’s face. The teen was curled up in bed, his desk cluttered with work, his computer still running. His shoes were kicked off to the side, and his skateboard was leaning against the wall by the closet door. At the end of the bed was his carry-on, open and partially packed. At the top of the bag, just visible from the door was a box that had been wrapped. In Tim’s (surprisingly elegant) script was the name ‘Marinette’. Bruce studied the box for a moment, before shaking his head and nothing to ask Tim in the morning.

Leaving the door cracked, Bruce stepped into the space and put his son’s bag and cacophony of papers on the top of his dresser, where he would look when it was time for him to pack his bags in the morning. With one last glance at the sleeping teen, Bruce closed the door to let the boy sleep.

Skater Tim? Skater Tim.

hiiiiiiiii! I'm back! what did you think of the look back into Gotham? I wanted to do something that would look at things from outside the little bubble of Mari and Tim, so we got some Bruce time. am I keeping Bruce as a good dad? yes, I am. I think that *technically* Tim didn't get adopted (I looked it up, but dudes, I got every version of yes and no out there. if ANYONE KNOWS FOR SURE, LET ME KNOW.). ANYWAYS I decided that I was throwing out any and all cannon early on, so if you know what the official version is, lmk, but it's really only so that I have references to work off of for character references.

now that we are expanding the miracusquad, should Tim get a Miraculous? which one? also, the reason that Mari is kinda...distant, is because she is planning on how to kick hawkmoth's ass.

Luka is getting his miraculous soon! will I actually follow cannon for once? Nobody knows!

tag list!  @moonlitceleste @redscarlet95 @ultimatetornshipper @mochegato @liquid-luck-00 @maskedpainter @trippingovermyfeet @nathleigh @m0chick0furan @susiej1118 @t1dwarrior-of-earth @sassakitty @remy-289 @solangelo252 @corporeal-terrestrial @woe-is-me0  @toodaloo-kangaroo

#a moment in time fic #maribat #timari #sibling!jasonette #timinette #Chaotic Marinette #cat miraculous! Marinette #cat!marinette #My writing #im back!!!!! #hiiiiiiiiii its been so long #and tim is going to paris

[ask-the-riders]

A Game of Chance

I felt like writing something to kinda introduce Roulette, so ye. You get to see a little more of her and what she's like, I guess

Roulette has a nightmare, and her favorite tiger demon unintentionally winds up providing the exact kind of comfort she needs

Some warnings for: implied alcohol consumption, abusive language, references to gambling, guns/gun violence, threats, and character death. There's a little bit of implied nudity at one point too, but it's super brief and could be easy to miss

"Ah, I'm sorry, bud! Your bankroll's empty again. Better luck next time!" 

The middle-aged man that the dealer had addressed scowled in response to her words, the stench of alcohol on his breath as he spoke, "Like hell it is! You're just tryna get rid of me, aren't you?" The dealer tilted her head, her lips curving into the sweetest smile she could manage, "No, sir. You're out of money, and I'm afraid that means you won't be able to keep playing." He continued to scowl, "I am NOT out of money! I know I put down more than what you just took!" Her smile became smug and condescending for just a fraction of a second; There was some truth to this man's words... But he didn't need to know that.

She placed a hand on her chest in a gesture of mock sincerity. Using the opportunity to make sure the wad of cash that she'd slipped into her top was still there, she furrowed her brows, morphing her expression into a concerned frown, "Would it help if I contacted my supervisor? You could dispute this further with him, if you'd like." The drunk shook his head, his face slowly reddening from what she assumed was a mix of anger and the alcohol he'd already gulped down, "No, I don't want no damn supervisor. I want my MONEY." The dealer sighed, "Sir, I can't do that. You lost it in the game, fair and square." He rose from his seat, slamming his hands down on the tabletop and roaring, "BULLSHIT." 

Seeing the other people at her table begin to look concerned, she lifted her hands as if surrendering, "Sir, I need to ask you to calm down. If you can't calm yourself, then I'll be forced to call security." The drunk growled in annoyance, not quite shouting, but still speaking much louder than necessary, "Give me my money and then I'll leave." She slowly shook her head, "I'm sorry, sir. I can't-" Her breath caught in her throat as the man drew a small, handheld gun and pointed it at her. The other casino-goers immediately stood and backed away from the table, visibly terrified as he raised his voice at the dealer again, "HAND OVER MY MONEY, YOU STUPID BITCH. I WANT WHAT'S MINE." She was frozen, her dark eyes wide with fear. The woman tried to form words, but couldn't produce any sound whatsoever.

As security began rushing toward him, he shouted another string of obscenities and pulled the trigger.

The bunny demon bolted up in bed, gasping for air. Beads of sweat gathered on her forehead and she trembled, her eyes wide. Her frantic gaze swept around before catching on her companion, who was still sound asleep beside her. The sheets were tangled around his body, and his already tousled, black hair was now such a mess that she couldn't even see his eyes. Her gaze drifted lower, and she frowned as it settled on the large hole that went clean through his chest. Power boosts, like the one he'd been talking about getting lately, took a heavy toll on a demon's body. They reopened all of their previous wounds, even those that had long since healed. As she gazed at his chest wound, she couldn't imagine how much pain he'd have to endure if he were to go through with getting another power boost. 

Letting out a deep sigh, Roulette carefully slipped out of the bed, leaning down to grab her companion’s discarded shirt from the floor. Tugging it on in a lazy attempt to cover herself, she made her way to the attached bathroom. Once she reached her destination, she ducked into the room, her vision going black for a second as she gingerly closed the door. As soon as it was closed, she flicked on the light, squinting her eyes tiredly as they tried to adjust to the sudden brightness. Roulette gave them a moment to adjust before she approached the sink, leaning over it to gaze at her reflection in the mirror. She brushed her bangs aside, wincing as a small and deep, x-shaped scar came into her line of sight, situated just above her left eyebrow. Yep... Sure enough, it was still there. 

She frowned, her brows furrowing as her thoughts began to wander back to the friends she'd left behind, as well as her family. She was never close with her parents, but she had a little brother that meant everything to her, and she could never see him again. Her eyes began to sting and she blinked back tears, one of her large, white rabbit ears lifting the tiniest bit in response to some sound that was just outside the bathroom door. Processing that it was likely just Othni, she relaxed, her ear drooping and hanging limply behind her again. Roulette quickly fixed her bangs, combing her fingers through them and covering her scar again before she grabbed ahold of her ears, slipping a hair tie around them and tightening it just enough to guarantee that it wouldn't come loose. 

Othni stumbled into the bathroom, very clearly still half-asleep as he squinted his eyes, unhappy with the amount of light that greeted him. Roulette remained where she stood, watching quietly as he approached, wrapping his arms around her from behind and resting his head on her shoulder, his voice rough with grogginess, "What are you doing out of bed, Bon-Bon? It's late..."  The bunny demon smiled softly, lightly leaning back against him, "I could ask you the same thing, Tiger." He snorted, his voice becoming muffled as he turned his head and buried his face in the crook of her neck, "I'm up because I rolled over and didn't feel you there in bed with me... Wanted to check on you, that's all." 

Roulette's expression softened a bit further and she hummed in response, "Awe... Well aren't you sweet?" Othni's voice remained muffled as he grumbled, "I can neither confirm nor deny such things. Now, can we go back to bed, or is something wrong?" She sighed deeply and turned to face him, offering him a small, reassuring grin as she gently touched his face, "I'm ok, Othni... It was just a bad dream again, that's all. You're exhausted, so I think we should head back to bed." Othni tiredly leaned into her touch, making a sound in acknowledgment as his eyes began to slowly drift shut. Realizing that he was already dozing off again, Roulette smiled softly. 

Her magic flared up, and their surroundings began to rapidly change. The bathroom shifted into her sitting room, and she gently coaxed Othni over to the sofa. She climbed onto it first and then turned her body, leaning back against the armrest. Almost as soon as she'd finished getting comfortable, Othni was already climbing onto the couch with her. He settled in the space between her legs and leaned down to lay his head on her chest, listening quietly to the sound of her heartbeat. Roulette's magic faded away and she smiled to herself, beginning to very gently pet him, gingerly running her fingers through his tangled, curly locks. Even as he drifted off to sleep, he purred faintly, enjoying her touch.

She watched him for a moment, her cheeks gaining a slight blush. Sure, he had his flaws like everyone else, but it was times like these, where she couldn't help but admire how soft some of his features were. His skin was smooth, and while there were some scars along his arms and one of his sides, his face was completely devoid of any imperfections. His cheeks were rosy, he had beautiful eyes, and lord, his physique. The guy was a bit taller than her and was quite slender, but at the same time... She slid a hand down to one of his shoulders, allowing it to explore the area and trace along his bare back, being mindful of his injury. He was slender, but he still had a little muscle, and she could definitely appreciate that. 

Roulette smiled to herself; He was truly the most beautiful demon she'd ever laid her eyes on.

#writing #roulette.exe #othni.exe #tw gun violence #tw gun use #tw guns #tw threats #tw character death #tw alchohol mention #tw nudity #tw drunkenness mention #riderverse #riderverse au #undertale #undertale au #tw gambling #tw verbal assault #tw language

[turtle-steverogers]

Team Bonding

fr when was the last time i posted like,,, a fic on here. like a tumblr fic. damn. anyway. ummmmmmmm this is just your.... typical steve freaks out and the avengers are awesome um yah ok ok 

warnings: panic attack, vomiting (basically steve watches the titanic and doesnt have a very fun time)

word count: 2575

-

If Steve was being brutally honest with himself, he was fucking tired of hearing about “the classics”. Irrelevant people butting their noses into his business, tipping him off to what movies were, “the best of the best!” and “absolute must sees!” He appreciated what they were trying to do, but after a while, it felt like people were more or less just trying to garner a slice of his 21st century experience, and quite frankly, he liked doing things better by himself. It was much more appealing to park himself in front of his laptop, nothing but his own quietude to keep him company as he combed through different wikipedia rabbit holes and caught up on movies and TV shows that were apparently crucial to his very existence.

Most were subpar and honestly, he preferred the copious amounts of popcorn he treated himself to on these solo date nights, but some things surprised him. Like Indiana Jones. He liked Indiana Jones. He was neat, and Marion reminded him vaguely of Peggy. 

Still, he supposed he should have seen it coming when Clint came to collect him from his floor one evening, that sort of eager-puppy energy he carried around with him vaguely prickling the back of Steve’s neck.

“C’mon, man,” he was saying. Steve leaned against the door jamb, tired. He was going to concede, but Clint was rambling and Steve knew better than to interrupt him. “It’s, like, certifiably the best love story ever. You need to watch it--”

And there it was again. That fucking claim. You need to watch this! You haven’t seen that? 

No. He hadn’t. He’d been a little busy, you know, being dead.

“--And the acting is all so raw and it’s just-- Leo DiCaprio-- you know who that--”

“--Yes. I saw Blood Diamond--”

“--Oh, you did? Well, anyway, he rocks in this and--”

“Clint,” Steve cut him off smoothly. “I’ll come, don’t sweat it too hard.”

Clint looked positively elated. “You will?” he exclaimed. “Awesome, yeah, it’s gonna be the whole team. I mean, that’s good right? You’re cool with that? You gotta be, you’re the one who mentioned team bonding that one time--”

“Yes,” Steve cut in again. “I’m alright with that. Give me a minute to change, and I’ll be right down?” He was still in his gym clothes from two hours ago. He meant to take a shower, but he’d sort of… ran out of energy. The sweat had cooled by now anyway. He smelled fine.

“Oh! Yeah, no problem.”

Which was how Steve found himself in a pair of sweatpants and an old SHIELD t-shirt, squashed in between Natasha and Bruce on the communal couch. Someone had handed him a huge bowl of popcorn and Steve was pleasantly surprised to find that it was flavored with some sort of cheese powder.

“White cheddar,” Bruce said, holding up a little blue shaker bottle when he heard Steve’s appreciative hum. “They’re, uh, sort of like seasoning, but for popcorn specifically. They come in all different kinds of flavors.”

“Oh, neat,” Steve said, around another handful of popcorn. He liked Bruce. He seemed to get Steve in that quiet, brutally raw sort of way. A quiet kinship. They didn’t talk about it, but he never made him feel condescended, so Steve decided that was okay.

“I think I fixed it!” Tony said, stepping out from behind the ginormous movie screen where, presumably, he’d been fixing a volume problem. The screen had been frozen on the first frame of the movie for nearly ten minutes. “Okay, okay, let’s see…” he pressed play. Music poured through the speakers on either side of the TV, loud enough so that everyone cringed and Steve nearly dropped the popcorn bowl in his haste to cover his ears. He always managed to forget how damn loud the world could be when he let himself get comfortable.

“Sorry, sorry!” Tony hissed, turning the volume down to a much more tolerable level. “Okay, there. Okay, shh everyone. Gotta let Capsicle--”

“--Just Steve, Tony--”

“--Gotta let Just Steve get the full experience.”

Steve rolled his eyes, but settled in to watch.

The film was honestly better than Steve had been expecting, if not a little… itchy in that way period films tended to be for him. The themes of poverty and love were pretty well-rounded, but they hit just close enough that he almost cringed at the far-fetch’d beauty of it. 

Still, his fingers itched for a pencil as Jack guided a pencil over the worn sheaf of paper. The dim light, the faint scratch of the pencil, the forbidden love. It was familiar. Steve could almost smell the salty City air, afternoons spent under the dim lights of candles so they could see even with the curtains drawn-- a semblance of privacy amongst the compact vulnerability of his and Bucky’s shitty little tenement. 

Draw me like one of your french girls, Rose had said, and Steve’s eyes drifted towards the wall, Bucky’s voice echoing through his head.

“‘Course I want you to draw me. I ain’t denying my vanity, Stevie,” he teased, but his eyes were soft. “Pal, you could draw a stick of butter and I’d still wanna watch. It ain’t about me here.”

There was a soft touch to his arm and Steve blinked out of his reverie. Natasha was watching him, a neutral look on her face that Steve had finally learned to recognize as concern. He shook his head minutely, offering her a smile. She nodded and looked back at the TV.

The rest of the movie passed without much excitement. The acting was pretty good and Steve had even gotten to a point where he could recognize the filmmaking as something like revolutionary for the time it came out. He was quicker on the cultural uptake than people gave him credit for, but that was neither here nor there. He laughed with everyone else, let himself grow somber when the atmosphere lent that mood, and generally, it was a nice time. He hadn’t gone to any movie nights before this, but he thought maybe he’d start going to more.

And then the ship hit the iceberg.

Steve wasn’t sure what he’d been expecting. Obviously, he knew of the Titanic-- he knew, historically, what happened to it. But for some reason, it hadn’t quite hit him while watching the movie that he was going to have to see the catastrophe go down.

There was a loud creaking of ice on metal as the collision occurred on screen and Steve felt himself go still-- body rigid and tense as the deafening noise played through the speakers. His heart slammed in his chest and he felt his palms start to sweat. He knew that sound-- he knew that--

--He blinked, shaking his head. Movie. Watch the movie. There was a panicked scramble on screen. Characters rushing to amend the situation, more metal creaking and groaning and breaking as dark, foamy water broke through the sides of the ship and Steve could taste it, he could taste the water flooding into the cabin, hitting him from the left as it took the plane down in a harsh--

--He twitched, shaking his head. He was being silly. There were moments of reconciliation as the scenes rapidly flashed between water flooding the ships cabins and peaceful moments of civility. A calm before the storm. A final dance before death.

I’m gonna need a raincheck on that dance…

There was a sudden crash as water blasted through into the work quarters and Steve jumped, watching transfixed as unforgiving torrents pushed workers over, flooding them, drowning them, and they were falling, slipping, sliding, panicking as certain death met them at the halfway point, and Steve knew it must be cold. So cold. Suffocating and unforgiving as it flooded their lungs, saltier than they probably imagined, heavy and awful and--

“Stark, turn the movie off.”

The room went abruptly silent. Steve realized his eyes were closed, chest heaving as he sat, hunched over his lap, hands fisted in his hair.

The popcorn wasn’t on his lap anymore. When had he moved? He couldn’t breathe and he was so cold and someone needed to save those guys, someone needed to--

“Steve,” a gentle voice cut into the roaring waves crashing in his head. Bruce. That was Bruce speaking. “Can you hear me, Steve?” 

Steve nodded, pulling his hair harder. He couldn’t breathe. Was he drowning again? Surely that was impossible. If Bruce was talking to him, he couldn’t be drowning again, but-- but the water-- and-- and the cold--

“Good, that’s good, Steve,” Bruce. Bruce again. It was Bruce. “Can I touch you?”

Touch. Touch. No touch. He was so cold. He wanted to stop being cold, but he was certain if someone touched him right now, he would lose his goddamn mind. More so than he already had.

“That’s alright,” Bruce sounded steady. Calm. So calm. Why couldn’t Steve calm down? “That’s okay. You think you can do something for me?”

Something… for Bruce? Could he? Could he do anything right then? If he couldn’t breathe, how could he do anything-- and he-- he felt sick--

He opened his mouth to answer and vomited between his feet, straight onto the carpet. Someone in the room hissed sympathetically. Steve wanted to crawl somewhere and die.

“Oh, Steve,” Bruce seemed to be talking mostly to himself, but Steve felt his shoulders climb higher towards his ears. “Okay, Steve, I need you to listen to my voice. Just listen. I’m going to count and you’re going to breathe in time with my instruction, okay? Can you do that for me?”

Steve shook his head, choking on a sob. His chest hurt. Like someone had taken all of his ribs and replaced them with weights, flooding his lungs with-- with water-- and fuck, now he was thinking about the plane again. He felt his breathing tick up higher.

“I want you to try,” Bruce said. “With me. In,” he sucked in a breath. “One… two… three… four…”

Steve tried to suck in a breath, but all he managed to do was send himself into a coughing fit. Bruce kept counting. Steve wanted to tell him to wait-- slow down-- shut up--

He braced a hand over his chest. 

Bruce was still counting.

He wasn’t sure how much time passed, but eventually he found himself matching Bruce’s counts, eyes closed and the heels of his palms braced on his temples as he sucked in greedy, measured breaths. His heart was still slamming hard enough to make him tremble and he could smell his own sick wafting up from the ground, but at least he was breathing on his own.

Bruce trailed off. Silence hung thick in the air, the only noise Steve’s slow, shaking breaths. Shame burned around his ears. He didn’t dare look up.

Tony, predictably, was the one to break the silence. “I’m sorry, Steve,” he said, and Steve was surprised to hear honest regret in his voice. “I was the one who suggested we watch Titanic. I should have thought for more than two seconds about that…”

Steve shrugged. Embarrassment climbed from his stomach to his throat, threatening to choke him. 

Natasha spoke next. “Why don’t you go wash up?” It was an escape-- a way out-- and Steve took it graciously, keeping his head ducked down as he stood on shaking legs and rushed to the communal bathroom.

Inside, he locked the door and braced himself over the sink, splashing warm water on his face. He drank greedily from the tap. His reflection looked like shit-- he’d burst some blood vessels in his eyes, probably while vomiting, and his skin looked sallow and pale. He was trembling, sweat matting his hair to his forehead. He looked how he looked after a nightmare. This, he supposed, had kind of been like a nightmare. Though, he hadn’t been asleep.

Nightmares, he was finding, weren’t strictly exclusive to the nighttime. 

He supposed he’d always known that, though. 

He closed his eyes, bowing his head again. 

His emotions had been fucked to high hell since waking up from the ice. This hadn’t been the first of those awful… fits, and he was certain it wouldn’t be the last, but to have something like that happen in front of the team was a whole new level of mortifying. Fuck. He’d gotten sick. And he’d left it.

He felt the ceramic counter straining under his grip. Scowling, he let go.

He could slip off to his room, lock himself away until he could find some way to sneak out of the Tower and never talk to any of the others ever again. Even in this state, Steve knew that wasn’t viable in any sense. He sighed. Besides, he couldn’t just damn the others to clean up his mess. 

Stowing his pride, he dug some spare mouthwash out from behind the mirror and chugged some straight down, keeping a mouthful and swishing it around before spitting it in the sink. He still felt and looked like shit, but at least his breath would smell like wintergreen. 

The others were still gathered in the communal living room, watching what looked like a kid’s cartoon on TV. There was a distinct smell of cleaner in the air and Steve’s eyes landed on the ground where he’d gotten sick. It was clean. He let his eyes drop to the ground, ashamed.

“I’m sorry,” he said. The cartoon paused. He didn’t look at any of them. “I was going to clean up.”

“Nah, man, the only thing worse than freaking out is having to clean up after yourself while you still feel shitty,” Clint said, and Steve looked up. There was no pity in his gaze, only understanding. 

“Yeah, we’ve all been there,” Tony said. “Sucks, but hey, least we know now that Titanic is a no-no for you.”

Steve flushed, swallowing a few times. “Um, I guess,” he looked at Bruce. “Thank you.”

Bruce smiled. “No problem,” he said gently. “We’re watching Phineas and Ferb if you’d like to join us, but we understand if you’d like to go rest.”

“Phineas and Ferb?” Steve asked, guilt replaced with genuine confusion.

“Yeah,” Clint said, shoving a handful of popcorn in his mouth. “It’s my go-to when I have a bad day. Nothing like some good old platypus drama to cure life’s woes.”

Steve blinked. “I genuinely don’t know what to say to that.”

Clint barked out a laugh. “Join us, man! Don’t gotta talk if you’re not feeling it, but being alone after shit like that sucks.”

And Steve hadn’t had someone there for him after a breakdown-- not since the war. Not since Bucky. Every ounce of him wanted to run. Hide. Smooth out his face and slip on that mask of stoicism. But maybe… maybe he didn’t have to. Maybe he could let himself have this, if only this once.

“Sure,” he said, voice a little hoarse. He awkwardly sat back in between Natasha and Bruce.

Tony pressed play again and Steve smoothed his hands over his thighs, feeling out of place and a little cramped and--

Natasha settled, casually letting her feet rest on his lap. On his other side, Bruce leaned into his shoulder, a subtle, grounding pressure. Clint caught his eye and offered him some more popcorn.

Steve relaxed.

Yeah. He could let himself have this.

-

thanks for reading, chiefs

yeah this was chatted about in one of the awesome discord groups im in so thanks guyysss lol

#marvel shit #marvel #Steve Rogers #marvel fic #steve rogers fic #Avengers #team bonding #yes #avengers fic #i love them all #dlakjfl #ok #crawling back into my hole #im definitely supposed to be doing homework

[thetravelingmaster]

Erin’s Weird Morning

NOTE: Another lost gem from the beginnings of my old @mc2015 blog! 

I had completely forgotten about this one and I hadn’t transferred to my mc-diaries.com site. I find this one especially good since I’ve discussed some of the themes present in this story.

*****************************

Female’s Point of View - Hypnosis

My conscious mind gradually came back to reality as the delicious fog of my dreams carefully released me from its sweet embrace. I could almost feel it... At first, it was simply that I could control my thoughts more and more. Like I wasn't waiting to see what happens in my dreams, but actively deciding what I would do next. Then the scenery of my dream faded away softly as it was replaced by a sense of self I couldn't deny. I felt so ethereal in my dream, but the more I awoke, the more I grounded I felt...

As if they had all agreed before hand, my senses came back in turns. First of them was my sense of touch. Of course... That was why I felt so grounded... I could feel myself lying down on something soft. Warm... My skin informed me that I had something fluffy and soft covering me. I was still somewhere between my dream and reality and I almost giggled as I thought that I must surely be on a cloud somewhere hot and sunny.

Then came my hearing... My awareness started to hear a rhythmic click that had me perplexed for a few moments. What was that sound? But my brain finally woke up a little more and I could identify it as an old grandfather clock, ticking away... It was so soothing... Tick... Tock... Tick... Tock...

My muscles felt heavy with sleep and I was tempted to stay in bed and see if I could travel back to my dreams, but then I smiled and stretched out my limbs under the sheets. I could notice the dull heat as passed through all of my tissues, waking up my limbs. God it felt nice... One of those simple pleasure I don't always enjoy properly...

As I stretched, my third sense made itself known: Smell.

I took in a deep breath and was instantly aware of a faint aroma floating in the room. What was that? Vanilla? Lavender? Some sort of perfume or candle? What ever it was, it was wonderful. I breathed in again and let the scent invade my nostrils. It was soothing... Delicate... I smiled as I thought that my lover must have surely woken up before me and prepared it.

And then my fourth sense woke me up: Taste.

I couldn't help myself, I licked my lips as I thought of him. We made such an incredible pair... Fitting together like puzzle pieces. I always felt so... Sexy... Around him. I could always see the lust he had for me in his eyes. Like he always had to fight and control himself around me. As if his lust was a caged animal that always wanted to ravage me... 

God I loved it when he let loose and released that beast...

But as I licked my lips, I noticed that there was something foreign applied to them. I could taste something... Sweet... Strawberries? I licked and sucked at my lips to identify this new sensation, but I couldn't put my finger on it... The substance felt and tasted like one of those flavored lipsticks. I didn't remember applying that before I went to bed... How strange...

Finally, I decided that I just had to wake up eventually and reluctantly opened my mind to my last remaining sense: Sight.

A soft light blurred my vision before my eyes could adjust to the sudden intrusion. But as the focus got better and better, my heart started to race more and more...

I didn't recognize the ceiling.

It made no sense. Why wasn't I seeing the ceiling in our bedroom? I didn't recognize the light fixture. So ornate... I sat up straight and looked around. Nothing made sense! This wasn't my bedroom at all

There was a window to my left and I could see that it was way passed morning. What time was it? I looked around to find the clock I had heard earlier, which... Which made me realize that we didn't even own a grandfather clock! But there it was, standing against the wall... Like a silent sentinel...

I looked at the bed I was in and it too was strange. Was I still dreaming? I finally looked at myself and saw I wasn't wearing my regular nighty. I was wearing... Nothing!

I looked around the bed and saw that there was a card propped up on the night stand. The card was folded neatly and it was addressed to me. Next to it was a feather... A feather! And an ink pot... We definitely didn't own that... My name had clearly been written with it. 

I shook my head and told myself I needed to find out what all this was about. I covered my naked chest with the sheets as I moved to grab it.

"Good morning my divine Angel,

    I hope your dreams were as exciting and erotic as our time together last night. Our play time was... Exquisite... Entertaining... Sensual... I find I lack the proper words to describe how much of a gem you are. Who knew you would be such a wonderful and compliant subject... I'm so glad I got the chance to meet you yesterday... But before you tumble down the rabbit hole of your worries, I assure you that you gave me all the permissions I needed to spend the night with you... Well… The weekend really... And before you ask... Yes... I asks all does questions while you were in a hypnotic trance... Before I we truly started..."

Oh god... Hypnosis? No... This can't be happening! I had always had a fetish for hypnosis. I even went to a professional to see it was just a phase or something else. It definitely wasn't. Feeling the trance invade my mind made me so hot. Horny... I still remember how ravenous I was with my lover when I got back from that first and only session. Did... Did someone find out about my desire? Did... No... Had I been hypnotize to follow some stranger?

The thought both scared and aroused me. Of course it was a fantasy of mine! But I would never want to live it out for real... I bit my lip as I continued to read the note.

"You were so eager to be claimed. To be taken... I've removed your memories from last night, but only as part of a game. In this room, you will find another piece of paper. On it is a trigger word that will make you remember our time together..."

Oh god... Oh god... This is real... As much as I tried, I couldn't recall anything from last night!

"And finally... I left a few... Commands... in your mind... I think you'll have a few surprises as you search for my little trigger..."

OH GOD! Was this fear or excitement? I couldn't tell anymore...

"But be warned… There are 2 sides to any piece of paper... So I’ve written 2 triggers... One will turn you back into my lovely Angel Doll... And the other will make you remember... Choose wisely..."

Oh fuck... Angel Doll? That's exactly one of the names I imagined my hypnotic Master would call me! Speaking of which... He signed at the bottom...

"Your new Master."

New Master? Oh god... Fuck! Ok Erin... Get it together... Don't give in just yet... 

I got up and looked in a few drawers. If nothing else, I was going to be dressed to meet this pretentious 'new master'. I'll be able to tell him that I may have accepted all this in a trance, but I have to stop things here. I already had a lover!

I found panties and a bra as well as a see through shirt and tight pants. All in my size. How the hell could they all be in my size? I put my panties on and as I grabbed my bra, I suddenly felt an intense itching sensation. As if my panties were soaked with itching powder or something... I quickly removed them and looked at them, lying on the floor... What the hell? I tried to put my bra on, telling myself that I could go commando in those tight pants, but as soon as I had my bra on, the itching started again...

I simply couldn't stand it! I undid it in record time and through it on the floor. I looked at them for a moment before I finally understood.

Hypnosis...

God damn it! If he could make me forget last night, he could certainly make it so I couldn't put on underwear. That pervert... I tried to put the pants on and sighed in relief when I couldn't feel the itching sensation. I put on the shirt with the same apprehension, but everything was ok. 

Well at least I'm not naked... Even if this shirt is see through...

I went to the door to see if I could get out. Had he locked it? But as I looked at the door and saw the handle... I... I couldn't figure out how it worked! Should I turn it? Pull it? Push it? I... I couldn't decide! I had no clue how to operate the door! The more I tried to figure it out, the worst it seemed to get.

I finally gave up and went to the window. I saw that I was on the second floor... With only trees as far as I could see... I certainly didn't want to climb down... The more I looked out, the scarier it seemed. Like... Like I was getting vertigo... I turned and caught my breath.

So... He made it so I couldn't get out... He thought of everything...

I started to look through the room for his mystery piece of paper. I finally found it under the bed. I grabbed it and looked it over. Like he said, 2 words were written on each side of the paper. Again, it looked like he had written it with the feather. 

As I read both, I suddenly wondered which would make me remember and which would make me into a... A... A doll...

It was evident which would make me remember and which would turn me. But was it a trick? He wrote that this was a game.

I guess I couldn't figure it out anyway... Might as well try and see what happens. I took a deep breath and hoped for the best.

"Reminisce..." I said.

I felt another wave of vertigo sweep my mind as images came flooding in. It was such a rush! I closed my eyes as I tried to make sense of it all. Oh god... I remember seeing a pocket watch... Swinging... I remember... Oh yes... I remember feeling the trance invade my mind... Then... I was made to undress... Sensually... And then...

OH MY GOD!!!

I opened my eyes and looked around. I was in our bedroom! And that was our bed! I looked towards the door and saw that it wasn't closed, it was wide open! And there, leaning against the door frame, was my lover! He was smiling as he looked at me.

That little bastard...

I remembered now! He wanted to make my fantasy come true! He... Oh god... He discovered my fetish... I remember telling him about it... And he studied to hypnotize me! And he did all this... I should have realize it was him all along! He always calls me his Angel.

I smiled as I turned the paper over. Might as well go with it...

"Angel Doll..." I said aloud.

He smiled even more as I felt my mind go numb...

#OLD POST #Full body story