#and managed to trick the rest of the old white men into thinking that was a GOOD EXCUSE!

[bettyweir]

Betty Weir

Chapters 1-2

Can Betty keep up with her new life of cheerleading, cross-dressing, pizza delivering and vampire hunting?

Word Count: 1.9k

[Read on Ao3?] [Next]

Chapter 1.

Benny stops dead in his tracks, staring at the freshly pinned poster, reading “Cheer Tryouts, Tuesday after school!”

Vivid memories flood back to when he dressed up with Ethan as Betty and Veronica. Ethan never wanted to pick up a pom pom again after facing down Stephanie but Benny? Benny could only linger in the feelings of having so much fun as a cheerleader.

He quickly rips the poster off the bulletin board, a couple people eye him.

“Ha, cheerleaders are so stupid right. Ahah.” he crumples it up trying to act like he doesn’t care and catches up with Ethan.

–Later that night–

Benny is sitting alone at Ethan’s house. Ethan’s fast asleep in bed behind him. He’s copying over E’s homework. He gets distracted midway though the Media Studies questions, as he often does, and thinks about that poster…

He digs through his messy backpack and pulls it out. Stating the same simple message as It did last time.

Cheer tryouts, tomorrow. After school.

He gets up and starts going though Ethan’s closet.

It’s endless, messy and kinda gross.

Ethan would always shove his unorganized shit into this closet, so looking for anything was pretty hopeless but he was determined. After a solid hour of digging he finally stumbled upon the three holy items.

A red and black sleeveless top with the White Chappel logo stitched on it, a short simple red skirt and a long golden locked wig, slightly crumpled with two red bows on either side.

Benny squeezes the items tight, inhaling the stale closet air with glee.

He folds and softly places the items in his satchel underneath his books, he sits back in his chair and spins around. He stops and excitedly scribbles down the rest of the notes.

Chapter 2.

–After School– Benny stands in the bathroom, legs trembling. Oh, this is so stupid, what am I doing!? I should be home playing video games with Ethan, or something. Anything other then this. Oh, fucking christ.

Despite his anxious thoughts, he continues changing into his old cheerleading uniform. Once he's done, he takes a deep breath. His hand hovers over the stall door as he hesitates to open it. With an exhale, he pushes though and looks in the mirror. After making sure none of his short brown hair is sticking out, he rushes out of the men's bathroom.

He prays to god that no one saw him.

He quickly arrives at the gym hall. The bleachers are filled with preppy girls chatting and sitting around, waiting for their turn. He places himself down at the first row, holding onto grandma’s magical pompoms for good luck.

“Hi!” A cheery blonde walks up to him, “Please make sure you sign in before waiting!”

She hands him a clipboard filled with flowery, delicate names written in fancy cursive. Three spaces remain at the bottom asking to fill in a first and last name.

Benny shakily signs “Betty Weir” in the best cursive she could manage.

“Thank you buh-” she looks closer at the chicken scratches, “Betty!”

She walks away with a hop in her step, moving on to greet the new students walking in.

And Betty’s more than relieved.

Getting comfortable and with not much else to do, he watches one after another of girls doing backflips, somersaults and jumping jacks.

Oh god, he really missed doing—or at least, attempting—those tricks. He ruffles his pom poms and cheers like the other girls in the bleachers after each girl finishes their routine, trying to fit in.

Sadly his efforts weren't enough. He hears snickering behind him. He tries not to eavesdrop, but the fragments he can pick up made his stomach turn.

"Who is that?" A voice whispers.

"I don't know, but look at her hairy legs, oh my god."

"Total lesbo..." they laugh.

Betty freezes. How dare they? Why did I do this? I'm so fucking stupid, I didn't even shave my legs. I wanna go home. What am I doing here. I should just leave.

She feels tears welling up in her eyes. But before her train of thought can go any further off track, she hears a loud hiss behind her.

"What's your fucking problem?" A familiar voice yells, "She hasn't done anything! Leave her alone!"

Betty turns to see Erica, of all people, stomping down the bleachers to her.

"Hey, Is this seat taken?" she asks.

"Uhm..." Betty tries to speak in the highest octave she can, "No, go ahead!"

"Don't listen to those cunts," she sneers, "they're just jealous of us natural blondes."

"Ahah, right..."

"You seem familiar..." Erica looks at Betty, "You cheered for awhile last year, right?"

"Oh, yeah. Ahah." Betty nervously laughs, shying away from Erica's stares.

"OMG what happened? Why did you leave?"

"Well, you know, a head cheerleader being an evil witch is kinda off putting."

Erica clicks her tongue, "Damn, can't blame you for that. But don't worry, she's dealt with now."

"Yeah," Betty sighs, remembering the reason she has to pack her own lunches now, "Wonder what happened to her."

An ear piercing whistle interrupts their conversation.

"Erica Jones!" a teacher shouts.

"Oh, that's me," She stands up and tightens her pony tail, "I'll be right back."

"Good luck." Betty smiles.

Erica does amazingly, flipping and flying though the air. She lands all her stunts perfectly. She does have vampirism on her side, but even then, she has to be practicing religiously to do a triple backflip one handed. She's definitely getting in.

When she finishes, Betty is too timid to cheer. She quietly ruffles her pompoms as Erica sits back down next to her.

"Awe, no cheering?" She teases, "Was I that bad?"

"OMG, no! No, you were flipping amazing!" she gushes, pun completely intended.

"Awe, thank you," she blushes, "Have you gone yet?"

"Ah, no. W last name, takes forever."

"Ahh, best for last I guess." she elbows Betty, "So, what IS your name?"

"Oh, aha. Betty."

"Betty, huh?" Erica smirks, "Guessing your parents liked Archie?"

"Who's Archie?"

"Like, the comics."

"Oh, haha," Betty twirls her hair between her fingers, "I don't read comics or anything nerdy like that."

"Don't worry, I don't either."

Their lies brings the conversation to an uncomfortable halt. They shuffle in their seats, and look at their phones in silence. After a few names and whistle blows, Betty finally hears her name called.

"Betty Ware?" the teacher shouts.

"Oh, haha, that's me!" Betty fumbles to her feet, grabbing her lucky pompoms, and runs to the teachers side. She thought of correcting her name pronunciation, but, it's probably for the best if she keeps quiet.

"Alright, missy! Ready position!"

Betty puts her hands to her hips.

"Hand clap!"

She claps her hands together in a firm clasp.

"T motion!"

She sticks her arms out in a T, trying not to feel like a broken 3D model.

"Broken T!"

She puts her fists into her chest, keeping her arms out.

"Touchdown!"

She raises her hands way above her head.

"V motion!"

She spreads her arms apart, ruffling her pompoms.

"10 Jumping Jacks!"

She drops her pompoms down and quickly does 10 jumping jacks.

The teacher looks down at her clipboard.

"Freshman?" she asks.

"Uh, Junior this year." Betty squeaks.

"Thank you," she scribbles something down on her paper, "You can have a seat."

Betty gives her a quick curtsy and picks up her pompoms, running back to a cheering Erica.

"Ahah, stop!" Betty blushes, as she sits down next to her.

"Why? You were great!" Erica beams.

"Really?"

"Yeah! Your form was awesome, and you had a great smile!"

Betty tries not to blush, "Glad my midnight practices paid off..."

--Cut to Benny in his room.--

He's quietly murmuring a cheer while dancing around his messy floor.

"Boom! Did a bomb just go off in my head?" She puts a hand to her ear.

"No!" She stands on her bed, punching at the air. "It's the devils when we beat you black and red!"

"Calla' nurse calla' doctor" She shouts, jumping up and down.

He hears knocking on his door.

"Benny," his grandma's muffled voice came though the door, "Can you please keep it down?"

"Yeah, okay." he replies with a voice crack.

--Cuts back--

"OMG! I'll have to practice with you some time then."

"Haha, um, maybe."

A whistle blows.

"Alright girls, I've seen some great performances today." The tall, lengthy teacher announces. "Results will be up by tomorrow next to the gym doors."

The small crowd of wannabe cheer leaders stare at her with anticipation.

"You're dismissed."

The girls quickly rush down the bleachers and out the gym doors, but Erica stays comfortably next to Betty, obviously having something on her mind.

The rude two brunettes finally make it down from the back row of bleachers they were sitting on.

Erica growls at them and gets up from her seat.

"It was nice talking to you Betty," she says, gathering up her things, "I'll see you at school?"

"No!" Betty clams up, "Oh, no, I don't go to uh. School."

"What?"

"Home school. I'm Home schooled." Betty gives a large cheeky smile.

"Huh." Erica pulls her purse over her shoulder, charms clacking together, "Well, then, could we exchange numbers?"

Betty makes a shocked face.

Erica—A Girl—Willingly giving me her number?

"Sure... why not..."

Erica whips out her phone, covered from lock screen to phone case with Dusk's Jakeward smoldering into the camera. Betty swipes though and starts putting in her phone number.

"Here, gimme your phone!" Erica says, tapping her foot impatiently.

Betty takes out her phone in her bumpy green case and cringes. This isn't too much of a Boy Phone case is it?

Erica doesn't seem to mind, since she quickly punches in her digits.

"I'd love to chat more but..." Erica looks out the gym doors, in the direction the brunettes went, "I gotta go get something to eat... Text me!"

"Ahah, of course," Betty nervously tugs at her blonde hair, "See you later!"

And just like that, she's alone in the gymnasium.

She heads to the bathroom, checking both ways to make sure the coast was clear, and walks in. She gives herself one last good look in the mirror before she closes the stall door behind her.

Her eyes wander to different spots of the stall as she changes. Markings left by her peers read; "I was here" next to 20 tally marks, A few crudely drawn penises and someone's bandcamp link written in sharpie.

She takes out her baggy blue jeans, looks down at her unshaven legs, and sighs.

Guess I'll get to use a razor for real this time. She thinks to herself, scratching her hairless cheek.

A part of her never wants to put these pants on again. Just live out of her perfect uniform, but she has a grandma to return to and dinner to eat. So before she knows it, she's back to being plain old Benny.

As she stuffs her uniform away, his phone vibrates multiple times.

He slings his satchel over his shoulder and heads out of the school. As he clicks together the straps of his blue bike helmet, he checks his phone to read the messages.

From Erica: heyyy betty its erica! had a talk with those girls who were super rude 2 ya dw about them bothering u EVER again ;)

Something tells Benny that she did a lot more with her and her fangs then just talk...

Thanks for reading! Happy International Womens day~

#my babysitter's a vampire #my babysitters a vampire #fanfiction #fanfic #betty weir #erica jones #benny weir #mbav #fanfics #BWF

[bilbobagginsomebabez]

while i am drunk and an american lit major, i just want to make a few things clear about ernest hemingway okay

1. please shut up about hemingway forever and i am not kidding. i know he was scarred and traumatized by the war and how it was so tragic he resorted to using simple sentences but i cannot stress to you enough that he spent the remainder of his years after the trauma following pablo picasso around so he could have sex with groupies. did you ever read a hemingway novel and think ‘wow this guy is a misogynist!’ ? it’s because he was a misogynist who literally structured his life around sleeping with groupies. you do not have to respect a man who structured his life around sleeping with groupies even if he was so traumatized that he used simple sentences in his Big American Novel. you really don’t. have to respect him. you don’t. i promise you that you do not.

2. ernest hemingway DIED in 1961 ok. they did not have KEYBOARDS in 1961. they had typewriters AT BEST and that shit was still clunky. at the time that he lived, hemingway’s “write drunk edit sober” shit required A LOT MORE MOTOR FUNCTION THAN NOW. ok you still had to be able to hold a pen and string together thought OR tap out one letter at a time on a big ass typewriter. you literally had to be more sober in order to write. i can personally sit here and clack clack on my keyboard and i need to move my fingers in a very peck-peck simple motion for that. physical writing and typewriters are not as easy. this is not a defense of ernest hemingway just a reminder that he wasn’t as drunk as he made you believe when he was writing simple sentences. he just wasn’t very imaginative even when drunk. it’s a mark against him

#look most writers were drunk as shit when they came up with their novels #this is not new #literally ben fucking franklin drank BEER every single day on the JOB in a print shop ok THEY WERE DRUNK #and THEY ALSO DEFINITELY FOUGHT IN AND LIVED THROUGH WARS #absolutely none of them went 'im so traumatized i can only think in simple sentences' #and managed to trick the rest of the old white men into thinking that was a GOOD EXCUSE! #ernest hemingway net negative on society #honestly he was not so traumatized that 'more boring writing' was suddenly compelling #wwii was the ultimate excuse for white men to descend into the pits of their own myopic pains and pretend it was a universal message for all #ernest hemingway was NOT actually that fucking good sorry to tell you! he's fucking boring! #simple sentences and shit description aren't suddenly compelling bc you were traumatized! we were all traumatized! #get some fucking skill and describe it or shut up i do not care about your groupie woes #HE IS NOT GOOD I WILL DIE ON THIS HILL #EVERY SINGLE THING HE SAID OTHER PEOPLE HAVE SAID BETTER #AND THEY SAID IT IN A WAY YOU WANT TO REPEAT INSTEAD OF UNQUOTABLE SIR CANTFUCKATALL HEMINGWAY #unbearable that he's somehow in the canon #out of ALL THE FUCKING CHOICES #mine

[alluringjae]

it’s a royal order - jjh

⤑ summary: one of your royal campaigns became a success, and your bodyguard jaehyun was there to see it all happen. it’s only fair to celebrate, right?

⤑ pairing: jaehyun x female reader

⤑ word count: 2k

⤑ genre: fluff, suggestive (dirty talk, jaehyun got a daddy kink, superiority complex!!), implied smut | bodyguard!jaehyun, princess!reader, slight enemies to lovers!au, modern royal!au (where south korea remains under monarchial power)

⤑ warnings: mentions of alcohol, drugs, family problems and therapy, explicit language

⤑ playlist: lows by pink sweat$ | céline by gallant | i put a spell on you by iza | nasty by ariana grande | dance for you by beyonce | body by sinead harnett

⤑ author’s note: this is definitely less emotional than all i do is wait! i got this idea from a show i really enjoyed before it got cancelled named the royals. specifically, i really liked the story of eleanor and jasper, which is the whole princess x bodyguard dynamic. the pining and tension, ugh! if you know this show or not, it doesn’t matter. anyways, thank you for the 30+ followers and 200 notes on aidiw! enjoy!

i need holy water because of this piece.

⤑ credits to jeongjaehyuns for the gif above uwu

⤑  leave me some feedback, constructive criticism or hellos!

“On behalf of the royal family, I would like to extend my utmost support for the Anti-School Violence campaign for all students to have a safer and more meaningful learning environment.” You proudly announced to the board of officials alongside other influential individuals in Korean society.

Being the only princess in the current royal line may have its pressures, but holding a strong, direct impact for a brighter future for the people motivated you to take advantage of your platform for the better. As the image of pure innocence and revamped women empowerment, you aimed to accomplish all the things your mother wished she could before her untimely death alongside your personal aspirations.

Expressing genuine joy with the campaign, with a tinge of desire to annoy the old-fashioned and closeminded officials, your prying eyes were more enamored by a certain man in the back clapping by the ballroom doors. You can’t help but act flustered whenever he witnessed you in a state of success and satisfaction.

This man went by the name Jeong Jaehyun, your trusted bodyguard since you were in your early twenties. 3 years later, he still stuck by your side and helped you endure all the darkness as a royal.

Back then, you went through a rebellious phase that was ruining the image of your family. Clubbing almost every night, drugs, skipping school, you even managed to get all assigned bodyguards to quit! The media ate up all your tricks, turning them into scandals. That was the plan, of course. You desired your own freedom from all the royal obligations because you didn’t ask to be born into that lifestyle. To all of your peers who wished to be in your footsteps, you would’ve impulsively passed your title to them. There’s so much deception that lies behind the glitz and glam of it all.

This unexpected change in your former untainted attitude came to the point that your father, the king himself, stepped in and personally assigned one of his men to get you in check. He figured that appointing a guard nearest your age may lessen the tension and mend you back together.

In the start, you absolutely despised him. There was no way to fool him when you were up to no good. He easily found your alcohol and drug stash which he disposed of on the spot and stood by your bedroom door every night so you wouldn’t sneak out past curfew (which your father also strictly implemented).

One big turning point in your relationship was when he rushed you to the royal hospital when you drank a cocktail that went unnoticeably spiked. To think that this was a typical social gathering with other royals and officials, you’re a constant target to many. You didn’t wake up for a few days, and the entire time, Jaehyun willingly stood by your bedside and outside your hospital room.

Since that and more instances your father insisted you get involved in royal affairs, you softened up. As cliché as it was, the more time spent with him, the more you knew about him and vice versa. He was the one that got you to fully open up about your grief towards your late mother, encouraging you to seek help. Turns out you weren’t as different as you thought despite your differing ranks in society when he also had a void for a missing parent. In his case, it was his father, who ditched his family for his mistress. Silently, you helped each other recover from your traumas alongside therapy. From dreading his presence, you started treating him more casually. Your father’s tactic of assigning a bodyguard around your age admittedly worked.

Oh, how time flies.

This campaign was the last thing on your weekend agenda, so you had the entire late afternoon and evening to yourself. Bowing one last time to the audience, you stepped down from the platform and accepted the soft hand of your bodyguard, who quickly made his way to you despite the flashing cameras. It was something he got used to as it is part of the job.

Once he successfully ushered you out of the ballroom, his hand still held yours. Nothing new, except this event was quite public and you didn’t want anyone to get any wrong ideas. Strolling down one of the many hallways in the palace became a pastime for the both of you, where no one can catch you. It was a safe haven within the destructive life of the Park kingdom.

“You did phenomenal as I expected, your highness.” Jaehyun complimented, recalling your panic the night before as the stage fright hit strong when you were reciting your speech to him over and over again.

“We are in private, Jaehyun. Must you really use those formalities with me?” You taunted, bobbing your head sideways mockingly. With him could you felt like a normal young adult, and you wouldn’t have it any other way. Jaehyun loved being frisky with you, catching you get irked up. And he was up to do it again.

“Hmm last time we strolled these halls, Yuta caught us making out after a successful meeting with the Prime Minister.”

You gasped at his statement, conscious of whoever may be in the vicinity. But before you could refute, your hand that was interlocked with his were mightily slammed against the white wall. You lost your breath for a moment, his warm body closely on yours. His free hand freely roamed up and down your covered waist. His lips were dangerously near your neck, where you’re sensitive. Your hips naturally grinded against him to release the pent-up tension.

“Something tells me you want to do it again, princess?” Now he’s just using your title as a pet name, but you couldn’t complain. It just hits differently when the situation was set up like this.

“I deserve it, don’t I? Got a lot of those hell-driven officials on my side for this round.” You raised both your brows cockily, licking your lips.

“Hell yeah, you do.” Finally, he rids of the tension and plants open kisses on your bare neck. Your throaty moans were uncontrollable, and you could care less.

“My princess,”

Kiss.

“So intelligent,”

Kiss.

“So benevolent,”

Kiss.

“So helpful,”

Kiss.

“But,” He changed his pace and direction, swollen lips near your ear.

“But?” You question naïvely. He scoffed, smirking at your antics of playing dumb.

“But a total slut for her bodyguard.” He dominantly planted his lips against yours, one of his veiny hands gripping on your waist and the other by the arch of your butt. He was hungry, needy even. Due to your shared schedules, it’s been a constant struggle to have proper alone time from the snooping eyes of Korean society. After all, it wasn’t in the norm for a princess to fall deep for her bodyguard. Nor were you sure you would be accepted by anyone. Yuta, the bodyguard of your oldest brother, the crowned prince Jinyoung, finding the both of you at that time was a total shock but didn’t care either.

All that mattered was that your feelings towards each other are real and strong. Accepted or not, you had each other.

All this lust put you in a daze, wanting much more than another smooch fest in the hallway. Tugging on his belt, he squeezed your butt tightly. You emitted a moan, which allowed his tongue access. No way could you keep your hands to yourself, touching his upper body and the flexing of his abdominal muscles from his button-up. You felt his now hard member poking through.

Analyzing your area, you were on the other side of the palace. Farther to your bedroom where numerous rendezvouses were made, one kink you’ve considered in the past amplified your mind. Considering this area was also the king’s side, and he was abroad for royal affairs, this was your chance.

“I have an idea, my love. You up for it?” You rose a brow at your lover, challenging him. Not one to overpower this man in bed, but always suggesting a way on how to spice it up.

“And what exactly does your feral brain want to do with me, princess?” His finger lifted your chin so you meet eye to eye. You can just see the fire still burning, and oh how you were ready to intensify it.

“The main ballroom, where my father and late mother’s throne rest, are a few doors away.” Your fingers signal him to lower his stance as his tall height was difficult to reach. With a sneaky smirk,

“Let me ride you in the king’s throne, my love.” Your lips brushed over his and sucked his bottom lip, tugging him by his belt. He groaned, squeezing your butt. “It’s a royal order.”  

“Nasty, your highness. Insanely nasty, you are.” His hands hoisted your waist, boosting you up in his arms. You gasped with profanities, ravenously cut off by his lips again. His nails digging deep in your bare thighs, your legs naturally linked themselves around his torso while your arms passionately intertwined his broad neck.

In between kisses, he carried you to the said main ballroom. One of your wildest imaginations, just a second away. This room remained to be the only place without any guards stationed technological advancements or updated interior designs to preserve its traditional beauty. Dated as far as the 19th century, only special events were held and the highest of the high were allowed inside. Spacious, surrounded by gold linings majestic paintings of angels from above with a huge crystal chandelier right above the center. Right ahead, the original thrones that your ancestors, grandparents, and parents sat on when they were throned in its pure glory.

Pushing your lover on the king’s throne, the gold sun-like rays plastered behind the headrest, he cockily leaned back and manspread his legs for comfort. He rubbed his hands before patting his thigh, waiting for your submission. But you weren’t going to give in just yet.

Not when you prepared a mini-show just for him underneath your designer silk dress.

Jaehyun’s solemn eyes marveled over your gorgeous figure as you stripped down one strap after the other. Due to its silk fabric, it effortlessly dropped down to your figure to reveal a new set of black lace lingerie from your previous trip to Paris. Ages ago, Jaehyun unhesitatingly ripped your favorite ones during his birthday, so you decided to get a mature version of it. A version where your bra lifted your breasts more and undies hiked up to your waist to elongate your legs. Only for the eyes of yourself and the man in front of you, establishing that you were a powerful woman who can be absolutely anyone she can be. Princess, a normal young adult, or his slut, it’s up to you how you see yourself.

Jaehyun mumbled all the profanities he could think of at the moment. Looking like a divine angel when the sun from outside shuns behind you, his slacks tightening so much more than a while ago.

“All this for me?” He ogled shamelessly, undoing the buttons of his dress shirt and untying his necktie. “What did I do to deserve such regal treatment?”

You sneered at his comment, stepping out your dress in your heels and stationing right in front of his luring lap. “You’ve always been there for me, thick and thin. I think you deserve a reward, don’t you think?”

Lowering yourself to straddle him, his breath hissed when your damp core collided with his crotch. Distracted and caught in your trap, “I don’t think you answered my question, my love.”

Rather than a verbal response, he roughly pulled you back in for a kiss. His hands scattered to explore from your back down to your waist. Your hands messily ran through his hair, tugging on some when your body got too sensitive to his wild touches. The thrilling sounds of the two of you drowning in your fiery romance bounced throughout the ballroom, not minding if anyone passed by the hallways outside. It was a private room after all, and whatever happens here, stays here.

Rolling on his crotch while his lips trailed down to your collarbones, the quick snap of your bra wires echoed. The tight lift lessened as Jaehyun’s fingers dropped the straps, unveiling your bare chest covered in his marks.

“Enough playing, princess. Let daddy have some real fun with you.”

#bye im descending #nct #nct scenarios #nct imagines #nct fluff #nct smut #nct x reader #nct 127 #nct 127 scenarios #nct 127 imagines #nct 127 smut #nct 127 x reader #jaehyun #jeong jaehyun #jung jaehyun #nct jaehyun #jaehyun x reader #nct jaehyun x reader #jaehyun fluff #jaehyun smut #jaehyun scenarios #jaehyun imagines

[spxllcxstxr]

Teaching a Moderately Old Dog New Tricks • S.B

(Gif not mine)

Request: could you do a older sirius x younger (tonks' age) reader, maybe he's in denial about liking her because he thinks he's too old but she doesn't think that way. — @msmb

Summary: The man you fancy has been avoiding you. Tonks gives you an idea.

Warnings: alcohol consumption, mention of cigarettes, kissing, older man/younger woman (but reader is Tonks’ age), light mention of remadora (does that need a warning?), Sirius is a bit self deprecating, heated make out, Moody’s all seeing eye

Word Count: 1.6k

A.N: Inspiration hit at 1am. Uhhh Kissing can either be well written or extremely cringe. I can’t tell what category my kissing is in, so possibly sorry in advance? OotP Sirius is so hot and I will love him forever. Hope you guys enjoy. Love you all❤️

****

“So how’re you and Sirius?” Tonks asks, her hair a violent shade of violet as she swings her legs over the arm of the couch at Grimmauld Place. She takes a sip of her daisyroot draught, excited for any news.

“I don’t know.” You respond, swirling your own goblet in your hand. “How’re you and Remus?”

You smirk as she almost chokes at the mention of the man of her dreams.

“I asked you first.” She shoots back after her coughing fit goes away.

“You’re annoying.” You take another sip.

“Cry about it.” Tonks huffs. “But don’t change the subject.”

“Merlin, I wish I had an answer for you.” Groaning, you run a hand through your hair. “He seems to be pulling away from me, yet again.”

“Ugh, men.” Tonks mimes a fake gag.

“I mean, he pulls me into a broom closet for a quick snog and now he won’t even stay in the same room as me!” You cry out.

The draught is sweet in your mouth as you down the rest of your goblet. “‘Ugh, men’ is right. I will never understand them.”

“At least you get a snog.” Tonks retorts. “Remus barely grazes my fingertips passing me a piece of parchment and suddenly he’s all pink and avoiding me for weeks.”

“Are they that daft, or are we just shit at flirting?” You pour yourself some more daisyroot draught.

The murky pink of the draught bubbles and sizzles near the top of the cup.

Grimmauld Place is mostly quiet, the kids were all asleep and someone paces in the room above. There’s faint laughing coming from the kitchen, but that could be one of the Black family portraits, so it’s no concern of yours.

“It can’t possibly be the latter because if I remember correctly, flirting was our specialty back in school.” Tonks winks from her stretched out position.

“Oh yeah.” You muse sarcastically. “All those people we managed to seduce at Hogwarts...”

“Hey! I snogged Penny Haywood seventh year!” She declares.

“It was a game of truth or dare! We all snogged Penny Haywood!” You exclaim, almost spilling your drink all over your robes.

“My point still stands.”

The house groans and creaks in your comfortable silence, Kreature’s dragging gait echoes through the corridor.

“Sirius has nice lips.” You sigh dreamily, your thoughts once again preoccupied by him. “Would love to snog him again.”

“You should.” Your friend replies. “At least one of us needs a proper love life.”

“But he won’t talk to me...” You childishly whine. Pouting, you drink from your goblet.

“Well maybe you should be the one that pulls him into the cupboard next time.” Tonks shrugs, waving her wand to fill her goblet once more.

“You’re brilliant, y’know that?” You perk up at her idea.

“I’ve been trying to tell you that since we were eleven, (Y/n). Can’t believe you’re just now admitting it.”

The night gets cut short after that, mostly because the two of you have work in the morning and the Ministry of Magic was already unbearable sober. Hungover at the office meant a lot more suffering than usual.

You’ve never been more thankful for Molly’s desire to put the gaggle of kids to work around the house.

Even when you get back from the Ministry the the next night, they’re all still galavanting with doxycide upstairs, letting the exhausted adults have a moment to relax.

That’s when you decide to strike.

There’s an extremely convenient and mostly empty broom closet on the ground floor close to the kitchen that is just ripe with opportunity.

Tonks gives you a thumbs up and shoots you a wink as she passes you and strides into the kitchen. You’re leaning against the doorframe, pretending to be preoccupied with checking your nails, but in reality, you’re watching and waiting for Sirius to come a little closer.

His black curls with the occasional strand of grey rest on his shoulders. His velvet burgundy blazer stands out against the dark wood and blue theme Grimmauld Place seems to really enjoy and embrace. You watch his gold pocket watch glimmer in the flickering orange candlelight and how he twists the rings on his fingers.

Your heart flutters at the mere sight of him.

He finally breaks away from his conversation with Remus before turning around and making his way towards you.

He struts closer, heels clicking against the floorboards and your hands jitter in excitement. You’ve never been one to initiate these types of things before.

“Alright, (Y/n)—“ Sirius starts, reluctantly nodding his head in greeting.

But since he’s within arm’s reach, you grab his soft lapels and pull him into the broom closet.

With a flick of your wand the door shuts and you’re plunged into even dimmer lighting.

Your hands are still tightly grasping at his lapels and you have to admit, you’re a little breathless as you fervently press your lips to his.

Your eyes flutter shut and you press your chest to his own, effectively pushing him harder against the wall. You moan, feeling him kiss back. He tastes distinctly of firewhiskey and cigarettes and you’re loving every second of it. His lips are addicting as they move in tandem to yours. Sirius’ hands trail up to the back of your skull, pulling you closer to him, something you enjoy and gleefully let happen. The closer to him you are, the better.

The heatedly deep kiss sends a thrill throughout your body. Here you are, snogging the man you’ve fancied since the day you met him, in a broom closet of headquarters. Instinctively, your heart skips a beat.

One of Sirius’ hands detaches itself from your hair and instead, trails its way down your body to rest on your lower back. A jolt of excitement sparks and flares up inside. Goosebumps erupt underneath his warm hand. He squeezes your body tighter, quickly taking control of the situation.

Unfortunately, air becomes something that you’re losing fairly quickly and when you reluctantly spilt apart, you’re extremely aware of his swollen red lips. They stand out between the dark hair of his beard.

You’re panting as you cling on to his blazer for stability. The moment your lips touched, your knees practically gave out.

“What was that for, poppet?” Sirius pants as well, grey eyes looking into yours.

“Merlin, Sirius, do I really have to spell it out for you?” You smirk, still breathless. “I fancy you.”

“You what?” His eyebrows dart up in surprise.

“I fancy you? Like I want to go out for a drink sometime. Or I guess, stay in for a drink since—“ You ramble.

“You can’t fancy me, (Y/n).” He interjects, hands slipping away from you.

You carefully remove your hands from his figure in return. “Oh.” Awkwardly, you stuff your hands into your pockets. “And why’s that, then?”

Anxiously, he begins to twist the ruby ring around his thumb. The broom closet feels a lot smaller than before and the burn of embarrassment feels even harsher.

“I think you know why.” Sirius evades the question.

Your brows knit together in both confusion and annoyance. “No, I really don’t know why, Sirius, so please enlighten me.”

“Godric, (Y/n)!” He cries out. “I’m an old ex-convict with a fuck ton of issues! You don’t want that kind of baggage!”

Sirius scowls, not at you, but at himself.

“You’re in your thirties, Sirius. If that’s old than Mad-Eye’s ancient.” You try your best to joke and make light of the situation.

However, you see that your attempt doesn’t work.

“Hey, I don’t care that you’re older than me. I like you because you’re this handsomely charming and charismatic guy that shares my issues with authority.” Hesitantly, you bring your hand up to his neck. He leans into your warm touch. “And I really like you.”

“I’d be more of a burden than a boyfriend.” He mutters.

“You’re no burden. Not to me.” You reply, stroking his beard. “Never to me.”

“I’m a bit rusty.” Sirius confides. “Haven’t had a partner since the seventies. And I’m not the same person I used to be.”

“Neither am I.” You shrug. “Mostly because back then I was a wriggling little lump.”

Sirius snorts.

“Is that why you’ve been avoiding me?” You question, tucking a few strands of stray hair behind your ear.

“I felt bad.” Sirius confesses, straightening out his blazer. “Felt like I was manipulating you by leading you on so I was trying to get you to hate me. Trying to convince myself to get over you.”

“I’m guessing you didn’t succeed in that endeavor?” You tease your bottom lip with your teeth, innocently looking at the man in front of you.

His grey eyes are kind and soft gazing into yours even after years and years of torture and misery.

He’s someone to admire.

“Getting over you is probably the hardest thing I’ve attempted.” Sirius laughs. “And I escaped Azkaban.”

“Flattery will get you nowhere, Sirius.” You muse, rubbing the back on your neck in embarrassment.

“Flattery will get me everywhere, poppet.” He winks in return, amused by your gesture.

“So can we give it a shot?” You ask, praying to Merlin he agrees.

“Sure poppet, why not?” He grins, his white teeth poking out from the intense red.

In a swift movement he has you flipped, your back now pressed to the wall as he passionately places his lips back on yours.

You hands tangle themselves in his wild hair, his sneaking around your waist. You tug at the locks and he hums in approval.

Suddenly there’s a large bang against the door causing it to shake on its hinges.

“Oi!” Tonks’ voice rings out.

Sadly, Sirius pulls away just enough to rest his forehead on your own. His breath hot on your face.

“Mad-Eye says that if any clothes come off he’s barging in there, so wrap it up!”

Your mutter out a curse as you attempt to untangle yourself from Sirius.

“Also (Y/n),” Tonks yells again. “knew you had it in ya.”

•

Sirius Black Taglist: @fific7 @quindolyn @msmb @lunalovecroft

All Character Taglist: @aspiringsloth20 @amourtentiaa @cherie-draco

#Sirius black #sirius black x reader #sirius black fanfiction #sirius black imagine #sirius black fluff #the marauders x reader

[dizzydancingdreamer]

Going To Disney With The Avengers Gang™ | Planning The Trip

Part One of my "Going To Disney With The Avengers Gang™" headcanon series

Includes: (The Whole Gang) Tony Stark, Steve Rogers, Bucky Barnes, Natasha Romanoff, Clint Barton, Wanda Maximoff, Pietro Maximoff, Vision, Sam Wilson, Bruce Banner, Stephen Strange, Thor Odinson, Loki Laufeyson

Word Count: 3.9k

Relationships: The Avengers x F!Reader, Ambiguous; just how we like it ;)

Going To Disney With The Avengers Gang™ Master List

→The whole idea starts when the team is lounging at the compound doing regular™ team things

→A.K.A Wanda, y/n, Pietro, and Vision are in a pile on one of the couches cuddling, Clint and Nat are across the room playing pool, Bucky is making ramen in the kitchen, Steve is trying to convince Bucky to add an egg or something for more protein, Bruce and Stephen are talking neuroscience and bickering over techniques of spinal fluid something, Thor and Loki are fighting over the remote before Loki finally rolls his eyes and picks up the book y/n had left on the coffee table, Sam is asleep on the floor, and Tony is just tired

→In the madness though he picks up on the conversation happening between the four people on the couch

→“You’ve never been to Disney World?”

→Three rounds of “no” “nope” “I’ve only had a body for a year, y/n. When would I have gone to Disney World?”

→”Okay, yeah, good point, Vis. But y’all would love it. I haven’t been since high school but I want to go again so bad. We need a vacation.”

→Tony doesn’t even stick around to hear the rest, he’s already walking away while speaking to FRIDAY, telling her start pulling up the Disney site and analyzing it, disappearing to his lab and using all of his monitors to compare the resorts and try to decide where to stay that everyone would like (and where they would all fit because there’s too many of them)

→It doesn’t take him long to realize they’re going to need large accommodations

→Bruce is the first to notice that he’s gone, sneaking into the lab and scaring the hell out of Tony

→“Whatcha’ doing?”

→“Ah shit-- Bruce! How are you so quiet?”

→And then he points to the seven open listings on the monitors and explains that the team needs a break and that he heard y/n talking about Disney World and that he wants to surprise the team-- Bruce agrees immediately (the man is always in need of relaxation)-- and that’s how the team’s geek squad ends up playing Disney Dad #1 and Disney Dad #2 and planning the most extravagant vacation in less than three hours

→They have it down to a science after the first twenty minutes-- dividing what needs to be done and tackling it individually while bouncing ideas off one another

→“Do you think they want to eat at Beauty and The Beast Castle or Ariel’s Grotto the second night?” “I’m not sure-- book them both.” “Tony we can’t--” “FRIDAY, book them both.” “You got it Mr. Stark.”

→There’s a lot of Bruce wondering if what they’re booking is too expensive and even more of Tony reminding him that he’s a literal billionaire and that he could buy the Disney company if he wanted to-- that still doesn’t stop Bruce from suggesting more frugal methods from time to time-- it only makes Tony want to spend even more money because you need to lighten up, Banner

→The next person who realizes Tony and Bruce are gone is-- surprisingly-- Sam

→Honestly it’s only because he has to pass Tony’s lab on the way back from his room and he sticks his head in to tell them that “Romanoff and Barton ordered pizza if y’all want any… holy crap is that Disney World? Are we going to Dis--”

→Tony literally grabs him by the collar and tells him to hush it, birdman before pulling him into the room and explaining his plans for the second time-- “Yes, we are going to Disney World and I want it to be a surprise.”

→Sam just nods, his eyes on the screen and his brows beginning to push down and-- “Okay but why are you booking dinner at Mickey’s Backyard Barbecue on the same day that you have fast passes for World of Color at Epcot?”

→And Tony and Bruce blink and are just like “What?”

→And Sam is already at the computer, fingers stuttering over the weird ass hoverscreens while pulling up the page which shows that the World of Color has a whole ass dining experience-- Tony and Bruce have no clue that was even a thing-- and suddenly Sam is the one telling them what to plan because, as it turns out, this man loves Disney World and has been upwards of thirteen times and knows it inside and out

→Thank gods for Sam because these two Disney Dads™ were really shooting blindly into the abyss of trip planning without ever having gone to Disney World-- he has to shift around fast passes, dining reservations, water park tickets, and even the family portrait session that Tony demanded Bruce add

→He shows them all the things they don’t even think to plan-- firework shows, dessert parties, literally all of Downtown Disney-- Tony wants to be mad but he’s too busy picking his jaw up off the floor when Sam manages to book them for an After Dark Party in Magic Kingdom

→Bruce gets so excited when Sam tells him that’s a thing that he almost gives the plan away when Natasha comes rushing to see what all the noise is (it’s Banner jumping up and down like a toddler) -- he has to rush to the doorway, make up a lie about him dropping a piece of equipment, and then walk her back to the common area and play a round of pool with her to keep her questions at bay

→It’s all fine because Sam puts the final touches on the plan and has Tony give the order for FRIDAY to book it all and then it’s ready to tell the team

→They sneak back into the common area, it’s nine pm and everyone just looks so worn out

→Stephen is literally half way to snoring, legs curled under him on the love seat, doing that thing people do when they’re falling asleep and their head slumps and then they spring back awake, repeating the process an embarrassing amount of times but nobody’s even paying attention

→Steve and Bucky are talking quietly in the corners about whether or not they should just go to sleep because it’s Thursday and there’s really no point in staying up any longer

→Clint and Thor are sharing a bag of popcorn and half watching John Wick while discussing the inaccuracies of the movie-- “If he had a bow none of this would have happened.” “Or a hammer.” “Yeah, that too.”

→Yeah, they’re exhausted, and it makes the Disney Dads™ and Sam that much more excited to share the news

→Sam’s twiddling his hands behind his back and sharing smiles with Banner who’s trying to keep his excitement at bay and Tony is rolling his eyes but smiling too and for a moment nobody notices their cheshire grins and nervous foot tapping until finally y/n lifts her head from Pietro’s chest-- who complains at the action and lifts his head too-- and lazily asks

→“Tones, what on earth are you smiling about?”

→And the man opens his mouth but before he can even get the words out Bruce and Sam are already jumping up and down again and screaming “We’re going to Disney World!”

→And the room goes dead silent for three beats-- one, two, three-- and it feels like a million seconds and Tony’s face is dropping slowly and he’s ready to be like sike and then she jumps up, literally stepping on Pietro’s stomach, hurtling the back of the couch like a damn track star and rushing the man at full force, flinging herself at him and jumping into his arms and there are tears streaming down her face and she’s screaming

→“Tony you didn’t! Oh my gods you didn’t! You’re lying oh my god no! Are you serious?”

→And he’s nodding but he still can’t get a word in edgewise because she’s still rambling-- “You heard me oh my gods! You heard me and you did it! Tony that’s insane and reckless and oh my god I love you! Are we actually going? This isn’t a trick? Please don’t let this be a trick!”

→And he just laughs and spins her around and tells her that no, this isn’t a trick I’m not the mischief god here and Loki rolls his eyes but he’s also kind of excited despite the frown on his face

→They’re all excited

→Pietro and Wanda and screaming with Sam, slapping each other and just full on freaking out like children, incoherent and happy and raring to just go already

→In turn this wakes Stephen up who hears the madness and jumps up, on edge and ready to literally fight before he realizes what’s going on and calmly sits back down, nodding his head but not speaking because if this literal grown man opens his mouth he knows he’s going to freak out too because holy shit Disney World-- even sorcerers like Disney!

→Steve and Bucky are kind of confused-- they just barely remember Snow White when it came out but Disney World? They made a-- what is it? A theme park? Regardless they’re excited, ready to break the old men lull they’ve fallen into-- Bucky hears y/n ask if Tony booked water park tickets and gets super excited

→Vision is also confused but he sees everyone getting turnt over Disney World and decides that he is also excited-- Wanda momentarily stops being hyped up to ask him if he’s waterproof in which he goes into explicit detail about how yes, he is and he’ll show her if she’d like and she has to slap her hands over his mouth and tell him to hush

→Thor and Clint also turn into children but they’re the run around the room yelling types as opposed to the stand in a circle and scream types-- the gang is apparently just like fifteen children who barely manage to get things done apparently because they’re all hyped as fuck

→Clint sprints over to Nat whose hands are already up, ready to fight the man off because she knows what’s coming, but he’s too fast and too happy and uses all his assassin training to dodge her kick, grabbing her around the waist and spinning her around until she’s giggling and slapping his back

→“Natty we’re going to fucking Disney World!”

→“I know you lug, I heard Stark too. Let me down!”

→He doesn’t-- he just shakes her harder, cheering with the rest of them

→Thor slumps down next to his brother, nudging his shoulder-- “Migardians are strange”-- and Loki nods but pulls out his phone and starts looking up what’s actually at Disney World and-- “Look, brother, our home… wait is that us?”-- and the brothers get sucked into a rabbit hole of the Norwegian pavilion and whatever the hell the Frozen ride is and why their pictures are there

→It takes thirty minutes for everyone to calm down enough for them to actually have a conversation about what on earth Tony and Bruce and Sam did-- it takes another ten minutes after that for Stephen to finally break through the chatter to ask the most important question-- “Guys, seriously. You can ask about the plans after. The main question here is when are we going.”

→And Tony glances at Bruce and shrugs and is like “Tomorrow.”

→And they all erupt again-- y/n and Wanda because they have to pack and Stephen because normal people don’t just up and go on Vacation, you’re supposed to make time and Clint and Pietro because holy shit we’re going to Disney tomorrow!-- but Tony just brushes the worry off and reminds them-- again-- that they’re superheroes and that he’s a billionaire and that they can go on vacation whenever they damn want

→Cue fifteen more minutes of freaking out and y/n tackling Tony and then tackling Bruce and then, finally, tackling Sam who scoops her up and all but tosses her in the air before thanking her profusely for putting the idea in Tony’s brain

→They spend the next few minutes fangirling together-- Sam raves about all the food he’s going to eat-- Mickey bars, corn dogs, pretzels, those huge turkey legs-- and y/n talks about how she wants to get all the autographs she can-- especially Goofy and Pluto-- and then Sam mentions the After Dark Party and, like Bruce, she freaks out

→Finally Wanda has to split them up, grabbing y/n with one hand and hauling her over to the other redhead who’s still being held hostage by the resident archer and grabbing Nat with the other-- when Clint protests she curls her fingers, warning him with a pinch of red magic, and he holds his hands up, backing away slowly but telling Nat she’d better come see him before they leave

→On the way out Steve asks where they’re going and Wanda almost threatens him too until Nat tells him they’re going to pack for tomorrow-- he then turns to Bucky and reiterates the idea to a less than enthusiastic super soldier who tries to argue that I can pack in the morning but Steve just isn’t having it-- it takes five minutes but finally Buck agrees (but only after Steve says Bucky can just throw his stuff in his bag)

→The girls spend the rest of the night giggling and packing, holding up dresses and putting them down, shoving things in each other's bags and dancing to a playlist of oldies from Wanda’s phone-- Nat is the most boring packer but after some threats to get resident archer involved she gets her act together

→Pietro comes in when he’s done and Wanda scoffs at what he has packed but he only shrugs, slumping on y/n’s bed and giving her grabby hands until she rejoins him

→“But Pietro what if I forget something?”

→“You worry too much-- can’t Stange make portals?” He has a point

→What they all pack:

→Tony: Suits and graphic t-shirts. He’s either rolling up to Disney World in a Metallica t-shirt or a full three piece suit there’s no inbetween. He’s really not concerned about packing-- he can just buy whatever he needs there. After a text from y/n though he throws in a few pairs of shorts that he didn't even know he owned and his M.I.T. hoodie. He tops it off with a few gadgets he thinks he might need-- FRIDAY’s chip and some nanotech-- and he’s good to go. Billionaires don’t need to pack.

→Steve: Clothes and toiletries. Boring, basic, forgets swim trunks until he sees Bucky put his swim trunks and nothing else into Steve’s bag. That’s how he remembers most things actually; by looking at what Bucky doesn’t put into the bag. Along the way he suggests what the super soldier might want to pack while adding a few extra of his own just in case. After thinking about it for a few minutes he adds two books-- one for each of them. He also adds some tools-- a screwdriver and some pliers-- in case Bucky’s arm starts acting up. He’s sure Stark will have something but in case he doesn't, those will hold it over.

→Bucky: Swim trunks. And, when Steve begs, he grumbles and adds a few button downs and henleys. He also sneaks in a few knives, burying them in the henleys. He watches Steve pack for him though and leaves it at that-- what’s the point of packing when the super soldier can just do it for him? He’s not stupid-- he’s tired and Steve is fussy. He’ll have what he needs and if he doesn’t then he’ll just make y/n go swimming with him. Then he won’t need anything. Easy peasy.

→Nat: She’s the most level headed packer of the bunch, spare maybe Bruce and Sam. She Packs what she’ll need-- not too much and not too little. If anything she packs too many of Clint’s hoodies (three). Part of that, though, is her knowing that he’s probably going to forget one. She packs her normal toiletries, making sure to add an extra stick of deodorant and a bottle of Wanda’s red nail polish because-- despite the fact that she spends an hour watching Wanda pack her entire room-- she just knows that the woman forgot a bottle of that stuff and that she’ll be upset if her nails look chipped in the pictures. Wanda and y/n make her pack a bikini despite the fact that she has two scars from Bucky still and they threaten to get Clint involved if she tries to refuse-- “I suggest you put that little black number in that bag right now unless you want some aggressive compliments, you hear me woman?” She didn’t have to be told twice.

→Clint: Not as much as he should. Never as much as he should. He packs boxers, a pair of swim trunks, a few regular shirts and shorts (not enough), a couple nice shirts and a pair of jeans, and his toiletries. He’s gone longer with less but-- like-- he doesn’t have to this time? Nat walks into his room as he finishes packing and takes one look at his bag before marching to his closet and adding a hat, a pair of sunglasses, a jacket, a pair of sweatpants, and socks because who the hell doesn’t pack socks when they’re going to be walking around for days, how the hell are you an accomplished assassin Clint?

→Wanda: She literally packs as much as she can-- think the essentials times three and then some, like five different dresses, two leather jackets (even though y/n reminds her that Orlando is hot), her laptop and her ipad, two pairs of headphones. She has a notebook, a sketch book, and a regular book. Six bikinis and a one-piece. Three hats, four pairs of sunglasses, enough panties to last a month, let alone a week. She packs heels, boots, sneakers, flats, and sandals. Two purses and a backpack. Wanda Maximoff is the epitome of team mom-- anything Nat and y/n forget she’ll have it. She also packs a few things that she thinks Pietro will forget-- a few nice outfits for nights out and his main toiletries. Oh-- and sunscreen! Lots and lots of sunscreen!

→Pietro: Well, let's just say that it’s a good thing Wanda thinks to pack some things for Pietro because this man barely remembers his toothbrush let alone his phone charger. He gets the basics-- the bare necessities-- like three t-shirts, a pair of shorts, some (?) boxers, and like seven pairs of shoes because with how fast this man is he’s going to need them badly. He does, however, remember to pack his bathing suit and that’s more than a few people on the team can remember. Poor baby just wants to get there already-- he can just buy whatever he forgets.

→Vision: A very strange assortment of items. He doesn’t need clothes-- he can make whatever he would like appear on his body-- but he does want to feel included so Wanda gives him one of her backpacks and he puts like kind of random items into it. He sees a phone cord and shoves it in and like a hairbrush-- all items someone will need eventually but not him (later will find out that it’s the cord to Sam’s Iphone and will hand it over and have the audacity to say you’re welcome Samuel after doing it).

→Sam: He packs at least four ball caps. Nothing besides that really matters; he just knows how fucked you are if you don’t bring a hat and he’s bringing enough for the people who forget. As much as Bucky gets on his nerves he also packs him one. Besides that he packs normally-- t-shirts, shorts, shoes, socks, boxers-- all regular amounts. He freaks out a little when he can’t find his phone charger but he’ll just buy one when he gets there. He also brings a Polaroid camera and a shit ton of film-- some of his team members have never been and he will be documenting it all.

→Bruce: He’s the most boring packer and that isn’t a bad thing-- it’s the reason he has so many doctorates-- because he’s smart and level headed. He packs the clothes he needs with one extra of everything. He packs his toiletries. He doesn’t pack his whole room and he doesn’t pack nothing at all. He’s perfectly in the middle-- a Disney Dad™! He does, however, forget his swim trunks-- oops.

→Stephen: One backpack with a t-shirt, sweatpants, and swim trunks. That’s it. Why would he pack anything else? The man can open a portal whenever he needs! He’s always one step away from his bedroom! Stephen simply flicks his wrists and can change and rejoin the group in less time than it takes the rest of them to pull shit from their bags and wait for the washroom to free up. It’s actually a genius play.

→Loki: Despite being the most outwardly unenthusiastic he packs almost the exact same way that Wanda does. He’s a nervous packer. His brother laughs but, like, he has a point. Safe is better than sorry. It’s comical that he packs like five sweaters though considering that he can snap his fingers and make the sweater appear. All his clothes are either green or black. He packs at least one all black suit. Thor has to force him to add a red Hawaiian shirt and he scoffs at it and shoves it to the bottom. Definitely packs three pairs of swim trunks because he doesn’t like putting them one while they’re still wet. He doesn’t even know if he’s going to go swimming but he’s still doing it anyway. He also packs the scrunchie y/n gave him to keep his hair out of the way and when Thor tries to say shit about it he pulls a dagger from thin air and just chucks it. After dodging it Thor asks why don’t you just make your clothes appear the same way?

→Thor: Enough but, like, definitely not enough. The normal things but like less. He figures he’s going to be spending most of his time in his bathing suit anyway. Loki tries to remind him that he can’t go shirtless in the parks (he looked it up already) but he doesn't listen. It really is a good thing his brother can make things appear from thin air. He’s the type of guy to be content in a pair of flip flops and an open button down. He does, however, bring one of those dad-esque fanny packs and somehow he makes it look hot.

→Y/n: Literally packs the same as Wanda, if just a tad less. So many clothes that it’s insane. She, however, has the added bonus of her old Mickey ears-- a pink sequined pair that are a little worse from wear but still pretty. She packs a bucket hat to pin collectable pins to. She makes sure to leave extra room in her suitcase for souvenirs. She’s had her eye on the luxury bath salts from the Grand Floridian ever since the Disney Instagram posted them a few months ago and now that she’s going she won’t be leaving without them. She also packs the strapless dress she’s been meaning to wear for months now-- she doesn’t know who’s going to be there to admire it but she’s sure there’s at least one person who will. Besides, Nat’s been telling her to wear it for ages.

#Bucky Barnes #Wanda Maximoff #loki laufeyson #thor odinson #steve rogers #tony stark #natasha romanoff #clint barton #pietro maximoff #stephen strange #bruce banner #sam wilson #vision #the avengers #the avengers x y/n #the avengers x reader #the avengers x you #mcu #mcu headcanons #the avengers headcanons #marvel cinematic universe #bucky headcanon #iron man #captain america

[reveniemus]

8 or 21 or 31 for the hug prompts. love your new look 😉💖

thank you!! i am obsessed with this photoshoot 😭😭 also i hope you enjoy some angst i guess?? bc i write that now???

geraskier in angst major, no. 1

pairing: gen with lite!geraskier rating: teen warnings: implied torture, mild descriptions of injuries jaskier is not having a good time

on ao3

Never say never, his mother had always said, and yet, Jaskier had foolishly done just that. He thought he was never going to feel anything worse than the heartache of what happened on the mountain, and yet, this moment was a very strong contender. It was such an obvious thing too, and Jaskier knew if Geralt had been there, he would’ve tutted at him for being so oblivious to the fact that the men giving him the eye were not, in fact, looking for a one night tumble.

Then again, if Geralt had been there, Jaskier wouldn’t have been flouncing about in a crowded tavern in plain view of some Nilfgaardian soldiers out of uniform. He would’ve been curled up in a bedroll on the forest floor, eating rabbit or deer and scribbling in his notebook while Geralt sharpened his swords.

“Bard’s tougher than he looks, huh?” he hears one of the guards say after he’s taken yet another beating. “That’s the third one today and he’s still conscious, somehow.”

“Barely. I bet if he got another one today, he’d tell us everything,” his companion says, and Jaskier’s body involuntarily winces at the thought of another beating so soon to his last one.

“Think the captain will let us? It’s not like we’re getting anywhere with the other prisoners,” the first one says, and he must lean against the bars because the scraping sound of metal against metal rings in Jaskier’s ears.

“Most likely. We haven’t tried branding yet,” the second voice answers, the gleeful tone to his voice making Jaskier’s stomach curl. Thankfully, it sounds like they’re finally, finally walking away and Jaskier lets himself relax when the sounds of their conversation dissipate.

He takes a deep breath and even that small, miniscule amount of movement makes his body ache. Jaskier tries to remember the things Geralt used to say about managing pain. The first step was to take inventory of his body to figure out what was wrong. It’s hard to do on his side, so Jaskier shifts, his face scrunching up as he lays on his back. It isn’t comfortable and the movement makes his bones feel like they’re on fire. How is it possible to feel this much pain and survive?

Okay, he can do this. He can take inventory of his body, just like Geralt used to.

Deep breath.

Something aches on his calf, near his ankle. Twisting it shoots pain up his leg, and Jasker bites down on his bottom lip to stop from making a noise. He can’t let the soldiers know he’s conscious enough to make noise.

Deep breath.

There’s a cut on his right upper thigh. He doesn’t know when he acquired it. This last beating? The one before? It’s not actively bleeding anymore, which is good. He thinks it means they didn’t hit anything major.

Deep breath.

A stabbing pain shoots up his left arm. Fuck. He hopes it’s not a break, because the implications of it makes his heart ache. Then again, he doesn’t know when he’ll see his lute again, so maybe it doesn’t really matter.

Deep breath.

His abdomen feels heavy. Is this what internal bleeding feels like? He should’ve asked Geralt how to know if you’re bleeding internally. Jaskier thinks he’d be colder if he were bleeding internally, or number.

Deep breath.

Jaskier’s head is pounding — not enough to distract from the rest of his pain, but just enough that his thoughts are verging on disjointed. Geralt would yell at him for not being able to focus.

Deep breath.

That definitely means there’s a head injury though. Jaskier remembers when Geralt had fought two fiends and they’d knocked him around. He had insisted that Jaskier not let him sleep, that it would make a head injury worse. Jaskier isn’t sure what worse means when the main part of your body that keeps things running is already hurt, but he thinks it means he shouldn’t sleep.

Deep breath.

If he’s asleep, though, he won’t feel the pain of his injuries. Jaskier closes his eyes, knowing Geralt would hit him for genuinely contemplating falling asleep while he’s got a definitive head injury.

Deep — Jaskier is jolted out of his breathing routine by a loud clanging noise, followed by thumps and screams and the sound of running. He pushes himself up onto his elbows, grimacing with the motion, to peer past the bars of his cell.

He should move back, maybe hide in the shadows and hope that whoever is attacking the prison will leave him alone. If he can have time to heal, he can get out of here and find … who? Geralt made it very clear he didn’t want Jaskier around, and it wasn’t like Jaskier could go around and find his old acquaintances. Anyone who was associated with him could be in danger because of his association with the White Wolf.

Maybe he could turn this prison into his home after whoever is out there finishes off the Nilfgaardians. Jaskier lays back down, closing his eyes and taking deep, slow breaths as the noises of fighting seem to get closer. If he lies here, maybe they’ll think this cell is empty of viable prisoners and they’ll keep going.

“Fuck,” he hears a voice grunt before the door to his cell opens. The voice seems familiar, but Jaskier can feel himself slipping in and out of consciousness and his already-vaguely-disjointed thoughts connect even less and less. “Please don’t be dead,” the voice says, and Jaskier vaguely feels a warm body next to him. The immediacy of the movement makes him flinch, and he hears another curse from the voice.

Familiarity blooms inside him, and he winces. His mind is playing tricks on him, it seems, maybe the Nilfgaardians decided an illusion would be more useful than a branding. Jaskier tries to curl into himself, but the pain that courses through him makes him scream.

“Jaskier, please, don’t move,” the voice whispers, gruff and gentle, and Jaskier whimpers as a hand brushes back his hair.

“Please, I don’t know anything, I swear,” he pleads, fighting back tears.

“It’s okay, Jask, you’re safe,” the voice murmurs, and Jaskier whines. The illusion feels so real it makes his heart ache, reminds him of the moments he clung to when Geralt’s fingers would barely brush over his skin when they were making camp, or when Jaskier made a stupid decision that got him hurt.

Suddenly, Jaskier is being tugged up, and he’s shocked into looking up. His eyes widen when he sees a shock of long white hair and amber eyes, a soft whisper escaping his lips.

“Yes, it’s me. We have to keep moving,” Geralt says, and Jaskier feels arms on his waist as he somehow gets on his feet. “Can you stand?” he asks, his eyes glittering with concern in a way that makes Jaskier’s head spin.

“You’re here,” he whispers, leaning back a little as Geralt’s hand moves from his waist. It’s not far, he can feel the heat of it against the ragged remains of his chemise, and Jaskier feels more light headed than he has in weeks.

“Careful,” the witcher murmurs, catching Jaskier’s arm as he sways on the spot. “I’ve got you, Julek.” His arm wraps around Jaskier’s waist and he brings him closer.

Jaskier inhales Geralt’s scent, a mix of leather and horse that’s difficult to duplicate, much less recreate in an illusion, and ignoring the sharp ache in his lungs at the movement. He’s probably got a broken rib, he realizes, as he involuntarily leans into Geralt more. “You’re here,” he repeats, his eyes fluttering.

“I am, but don’t fall asleep on me yet. You’ve got a nasty head wound,” Geralt says, his voice gruff and stern and the familiar tendrils of it makes Jaskier’s heart warm.

“Y’know, even if this was a dream, it’s a nice dream. I hoped this would be my last,” Jaskier whispers, like it’s a secret, as he leans into Geralt, wrapping an arm around the witcher’s waist. He has no balance, so he feels the sway of his body as he tries to recalibrate his center of gravity.

“It’s not a dream, and it sure as hell won’t be your last one.” Geralt’s response is angry, almost aggressive, and Jaskier thinks maybe he’s far too out of it to be affected by that. “Yen’s outside with a portal waiting for me to get you out of here,” he continues, tightening his grip around Jaskier’s waist and moving out of the cell.

Jaskier makes a soft noise, burying his face in Geralt’s neck as the witcher half-carries him out of the keep. “You came for me,” he mumbles, voice slurring as darkness starts to take a hold of his consciousness.

“I always will,” Geralt whispers. Or maybe it’s just a part of Jaskier’s dream. “You’re not dreaming, Jaskier, and I need you to stay awake.”

Did he say that aloud? Oh. Did that mean he was definitely dreaming or definitely not? Jaskier is about to say something else, he thinks, but putting words together has become very difficult. What a useless wordsmith he is, isn’t he? Not able to put words together! What a sorry excuse of a bard.

“What’s he babbling about?” a sultry feminine voice asks, and Jaskier’s body jerks, the pain shooting from his possibly-twisted ankle as he tries to run off. “Bard, what are you doing? Has he been doing this the whole time?”

“Hm,” Geralt grunts, shifting to hoist Jaskier towards the shimmering portal that’s just outside of his fuzzy eyeline.

“Why didn’t you Axii him like one of your horses?” Yennefer asks, her voice coming closer as Jaskier’s arm lifts and loops over someone’s neck. A lilac and gooseberries someone.

Geralt lets out a grunt that, if he were in the right state of mind, Jaskier would be able to translate, but for now, he knows there’s an underlying layer of softness to it that he wants to hold close to his heart.

“Oh, you stupid witcher,” Yennefer mumbles before Jaskier feels chaos surrounding him. It’s the last thing he consciously notes for himself before his vision goes black and his mind goes empty.

#hello i tried a thing i hope it's okay #jaskier #julian alfred pankratz #the witcher #witcher fic #geralt of rivia #a sprinkling of #yennefer of vengerberg #hurt/mild comfort #or as they say in the gallery #whump the bard #kali writes

[softcallofdutyimagines]

Stay | Russell Adler x fem!bell!Reader

Summary: Despite having developed deep feelings for you after all this time working together, Adler takes you to antarctica like he was told. The only issue is... Things aren't as they seem when he finally confronts you.

Aka, sorry Treyarch, but this time the thotlers win.

SKSKSKS I ONLY MADE THAT POST TO TEST THE WATER, SO THANK YOU @smokeywhalee FOR ASKING FOR THE FIC. I ACTUALLY WROTE THIS WHOLE ASS THING LAST NIGHT SO COME GET THIS FLUFFY ASS BREAD Y'ALL AND ENJOY

Tags: fluff, angst, and angst with a happy ending

Warnings: some strong language and you might need a tissue box bc I sure did 😭😭

"Nothing like arctic air, eh?"

Russell Alder stands just a few feet away, hands resting squarely on his hips, looking out over the cliffs.

"Sure", you smile tiredly, a little sleepy from the long flight, as you walk up beside him. Without needing permission, you slip your pinky around his as he loosens his grip to allow you to do so.

Adler takes a glance down at your intertwined hands. He can't keep you in the dark for long. But still, he's afraid to tell you...

You move to lean your head on his shoulder, only to be left alone as he wrenches himself away.

"Listen Bell, there's... There's something I need to tell you", he refuses himself a glance at you. It would hurt him too much. You make an inquisitive noise and a long silence passes.

Perhaps it would be best just to get the hard part over. He was never one for beating around the bush anyway. "They sent me out here to kill you, Bell"

His voice is hardly audible, a clever trick to disguise the hurt in his voice. He grits his teeth, wondering if you really needed to know that, but then he remembers... He's done lying to you. You deserve to know.

Adler braces himself for the backlash, perhaps even a bullet in the back. Instead, he's met with a whisper.

"I know"

Your voice is only audible thanks to the bitter wind helping it along to his ear, leaving a ghostly caress as it passes him by. Russell turns around this time, almost disappointed to see your back still turned to him.

"How d-?"

You turn slowly, and even from there he can see the tear rolling down your face, "Why else would we be out here?", you gesture around to the great nothingness enveloping you both. You sniff and swipe a hand across you cheek, a joyless laugh escaping you, "Besides, you never take me anywhere nice"

In any other scenario, it would be playful and teasing, just like he knows you for.

Adler huffs a half hearted laugh at that, before tearing his gaze away. "Bell, I..."

"Oh, cut the shit Russell. Just do it, alright?", the tears flow freely down your glassy eyes now, "I know you have to... Really, I get it. A-and it's alright, you know? I-"

By now, Adler has made his way across to you. Even now, he hates to see you so upset. He gently grips your arms in his strong, steady hands, hoping against hope to give you some sense of ease. He needs to finish what he has to say.

"Bell..."

He then tries to say your name, but you won't allow it.

"Just shut up, alright? God, I hate you! I h-hate you..."

You struggle in his grip, beating weakly against his chest as your body becomes wracked pwith sobs, voice trailing off pathetically. Adler pulls you close, just in time, as you collapse into his arms.

"God, why? Why why...?"

You're choked up with hiccuping sobs again as Adler lowers you both to kneel in the grass. He squeezes you tighter, comfortingly he hopes, and if nothing else, to keep him from allowing tears of his own to fall too.

With a ragged gasp, you find your voice, allowing your anger and frustration to seap in at last, "After all I did for you people... This is how yo-?"

But you're cut off, and suddenly all your senses are overwhelmed with... Him.

Adlers lips crush into yours, the eagerness with which he kisses you is enough to erase all the fear, and pain, and sadness. At least, for the moment.

The crisp arctic air only accentuates the musky smell of his cologne, infusing every breath you breathe with its familiar scent. Charred birch and a hint of cigarettes. You almost smile at that.

He's been trying to quit, per your request, but... Old habits die hard.

The uneven stubble of his scarred chin tickles as he works over your lips, sucking gently, but adamantly once, then twice, before sustaining one long kiss again.

At last you part, lungs burning for air. Small puffs of condensation intermingle between your mouths as you catch your breath.

Adler takes one last gasp for air, to steady himself more then anything, before delivering one more kiss to your forehead. He knows he doesn't deserve to think such things, but...

You have no idea how long he's wanted to kiss you.

A few more tears start up from you again, but in that moment, he decides once and for all to commit to all the promises he's been wanting to make to you. He's done watching you suffer, and it's time you knew.

"I'm not going to kill you Bell...", he whispers against the warm skin of your forehead before pulling you to the crook of his neck.

You sniff, instantly frozen as you try to make sense of what you just heard. Too soon, faster then your mind can catch up, you search for words, "Wha-? Why? How? Russell, if they find out they'll kill yo-"

"Shhhh, they're not going to find out. I'm defecting. Right here, right now"

"B-but, why? I already told you, it's o-"

Adler moves his hands to cup your face, training your gaze to be all on him.

"No, it's not ok Bell. What we did to you... What I did to you... Was fucked, and unfair, but... it was for the greater good. But this? No."

"W-well ok... but-?"

"I'm doing this because I love you Bell", he barks it out, almost angrily, but even behind those old tinted aviators, you can see his expression soften almost immediately as he gently strokes your cheek with his thumb, "I love you... So much. Do you understand?"

He pauses for a moment, and his grand show of steely emotions breaks as he removes the sunglasses to wipe away his tears. And when he looks back at you... You're surprised at the reminder of how beautiful his eyes are.

"And... I'm... sorry I never told you before... Well, this"

Your mind is reeling at the rush of information. This... confession, isn't exactly news to you, but to hear him say it...

With one more sniff, Adler manages to pull himself together for a final moment of vulnerability, "Look, I know this is... a lot, but I was thinki- I...", he sighs and takes a deep breath. This is it.

"Would you... Come away with me? The CIA is going to be looking for both of us, and, well... No body and all, so I was thinking... We could find somewhere... off the grid, just you and me, start fresh? I know it'll be tough bu-"

"Yes!"

"-t I can protect you an- Wait... Yes?"

"Yes!", you seal the statement with a quick kiss. A promise. Then, you grow serious, "There's nothing left for me out here Russell... You're my only choice"

"...I'm sorry to hear that"

You cup a hand to his face, a tiny glimpse of that beautiful smile he loves so much peeking through, "No no, I didn't mean... This is a good thing. I meant to say, I wouldn't want to choose anyone else"

Adler sniffs and huffs a laugh, rocking gently as you pull in for an embrace, "Well in that case... I'm sorry to hear you have such terrible taste in men"

That earns a genuine laugh from you, and to him, it sounds like music.

You slip your hand into his, holding on just by the fingers before reaching up to plant a kiss over the scar on his jaw. You always rather liked those scars of his, no matter how much he wishes they never were.

But then again... He loves the way you use them to make him feel handsome, and he'll never understand how you do it.

After a few moments more, Adler gets up, pulling you to your feet as well. You wipe away the last of your tears, and as you glance up at him, a look of uncertainty crosses you.

He knows he has no right to ask you to trust him. Not after all the lies and the manipulation that got you and him to this point. But even after all that... The fact that you're willing to give him a chance humbles him to no end.

Adler looks back at you, and wishes for nothing more then the ability to make sure you never have to worry, or hurt, or live in fear ever again. But if there's one thing he does know, he'll be damned if he doesn't try.

"Come on kid", he rubs some warmth back into your arms, then kisses the top of your hair, "let's get out of here, huh? I've got just the place in mind..."

And just the place indeed.

A few months of preparation go by first, but at last you've managed to escape to the Swiss country side. Fields and fields of vibrant green grass and small wildflowers pass you by as Adler drives along, the great alps standing tall and strong just in the distance.

The sun glows warmly over head, and a little sparkle catches your eye. You look down and admire the ring on your hand once again, turning it this way and that, before stealing a glance at Russell's matching one.

With a couple more twists and turns, Adler asks you to close your eyes. A little while more, and the car comes to a stop. "Hey, don't open yet!", He hurries around to help you out, guiding you along want feels like a gravel path.

He puts his hands over yours, "Ready?"

You nod, the suspense absolutely eating you up. Finally, he moves your hands aside, revealing a small, brightly painted house before you. A stone path leads up to a white fenced porch complete with a swing for two.

The whole thing is practically overgrown with wysteria, coiling in and around the pillars and walls, and out front a wild garden stretches up towards the sun.

It's perfect.

You whip around, finding yourself unable to speak. But, he already knows. Adler sweeps you up off your feet and gives you a little spin as you shriek in surprise, melting into a fit of laughter as he sets you down.

He leans in and kisses you, just another of countless more to come, before pulling back. You have no idea how much it means to him to see you this happy....

"Welcome home"

#BITCH IM CRYING BYE 😭😭😭 #black ops cold war #call of duty #russell adler #russell adler x bell #russell adler x reader

[aurathian]

Life in a Dead World

My submission for @zelinkweek2021 day 5, prompt Domesticity: Family.

read it here on AO3!

When she gazes at the castle for the first time in one hundred years, when she takes her first good look at it in forever, she sees nothing but despair. Loss. She sees nothing but memories she once held dear, long dead and buried under the rubble. She sees nothing.

He is her guiding hand through this new, foreign world in which she is blind. The way he takes her hand ever so gently and leads her across the stepping stones of the future is comforting, but her steps are uneasy still.

“Zel,” someone calls. “Wake up.” A gentle shake rumbles her shoulder and she turns over to face the voice.

“I’m up,” she manages to say, though hoarsely, and wrenches her eyes open to meet Link’s face. He swipes a finger across her forehead, brushing back stray strands of her sunshine hair. Taking his time studying her face, his blue eyes dart around before settling on her lips. He places a chaste kiss upon them.

Most mornings spent in their house in Hateno Village were like this. She’d be woken up by him saying her name softly, like it’s a prayer, and he’d kiss her before rolling out of bed. He’d make them breakfast, something simple like eggs and rice, and then he would head out to the fields for work. She’d stay curled up inside, reading books on their bed and tinkering with whatever ancient scraps Link found on his adventures.

Zelda doesn’t really like the mornings. The sun rises and casts its bright rays on everything ugly in the world and the daytime forces her to face it. She remembers her last sunrise before the Calamity, though the memory is blurry and faded now. It was a quiet morning when she was sent on her way to the Spring of Wisdom to offer her final prayer to the Goddess Hylia, full of apprehension and fear—fears she fulfilled.

On this day, however, he makes pancakes topped with berries he had picked after work the day before. He serves her orange juice in one of the fancy glasses they reserve for company—though they never get visitors anyway—and sets the table nice, with placemats and flowers in the center.

“What’s the occasion?” she asks, finally lured downstairs by the sweet smells and clattering utensils. Sliding into the chair across from him, she takes up her fork and digs in.

“Nothing special,” he replies nonchalantly with a raise of his brows, but she can feel his gaze on her as he takes a sip of his own juice. Zelda is able to indulge in a few more bites of soft, buttery pancake before he speaks again.

“Will you come into town with me today?” he requests, his hand drifting across the table to gingerly grasp hers.

“That’s what the occasion is, then,” she mumbles bitterly. Her appetite is lost and she sets the fork down. “You know I can’t.”

The few times she stepped foot into Hateno Village, the few times she saw the faces of the men and women and children walking through town and living, she turned around and went back to their house on the edge of the village. Link would follow suit some time later and find her gripping the photo of them and the Champions, staining its glass cover with tears.

The village is bright and lively. He tries to make her see the good, but she is blinded by memories.

“Why not?” he prods, taking a step into where he’d never dared to go before, opening the door to her heart just a little more.

“You know why.” Her voice is shaky now. “When I look at them—when I see their faces, they… they remind me of the people I killed all those years ago.”

“You didn’t kill anyone.” His tone is the opposite of hers; certain and sure, and his foot is planted steady in the doorway now. Though his memories are few, they are vivid with color and life and they feel real each time he relives them, whether in his dreams or by traveling to the places he uncovered them in the first place.

“Killing isn’t just about who you strike with your blade, Link,” she scolds. “It’s about what you fail to do that causes their deaths.” Her hands rest now in her lap, leaving his empty and open atop the table. “In my case, I failed to awaken my power in time.”

“But they’re not the people you killed.”

“They look like ordinary citizens. People, innocent people, going about their lives. The very people affected by my incompetence.”

“But—”

“There is no reason for me to go into the village anyway.”

Link sits back in his chair. “Why?” he breathes. The door is closing and he’s fighting to keep it open now.

“Hyrule is dead,” Zelda says plainly. “It died long ago, with all those people. When I looked upon the castle, when we were traveling back here through ruin after ruin, I saw no life.”

“There’s life right outside our house,” he counters.

“We have experienced two different kingdoms, Link.” She stands from her chair and wanders to the stairs, fingers lingering over the banister. “You do not remember my Hyrule. In comparison, this land is dead.” The conversation is over. She walks up the stairs without a word and he can hear her shuffle into bed. Then, it’s silent.

—

He tries again the next morning. This time, he coaxes her outside with the promise of a morning spent picking the flowers growing in their yard. It’s peaceful and they can’t hear the sounds of Hateno Village from their quaint house across the bridge, and he watches her face as she plucks the white flowers from the ground. Her eyes are lidded and mouth curved into a small smile.

He wishes he could show those grass green eyes the beauty of the Hyrule he knows, from its snowy mountaintops to its humid jungles; wishes she could meet the people who helped him along his journey, the people he considers Champions of this new age.

When he’s accrued plenty of flowers in his basket, he calls out to her, “Hey Zel, come here!”

She crawls over, bringing her own basket alongside her. “What?”

“What do you want to do with all these flowers?”

She hums, then says, “I don’t know.” Pulling one out of her basket, she twirls it around by the stem.

“I was thinking we could go into the village and give them to the children,” he offers, standing up and holding out his hand.

“Is that what this was all about?”

“Well…”

She scowls, taking her basket and marching toward the house. He winces as the front door slams shut behind her.

Link, however, is persistent, and if he has anything, it’s the audacity. Every day he tries something new to get her to go into the village with him—getting water from the river, buying a new dress, even visiting Purah at the lab—but each attempt is turned down by her.

“I can do my own research right here from my bed,” she argues when he suggests visiting Purah. Never in his lifetime did he think he would witness Princess Zelda of Hyrule, ancient Sheikah tech extraordinaire and science nerd, turn down an opportunity to go study at a laboratory.

Then, one day, something strange happens. He leaves the house to go work in the fields like usual, bringing along a pitchfork and his lunch. He lets Zelda stay in the house to eat her breakfast and read her books. As he’s walking down the trail from his house, over the bridge and into the new developments that continue to creep ever closer to them, a hand grabs his sleeve.

“Zelda?” he asks when he sees her. “But I thought…”

“I don’t appreciate how often you tried to trick me,” she interjects, “but I did some thinking, and I want to try.”

He’s looking at her like she’s crazy, one eyebrow up and his mouth popped open.

“Please?” she begs.

Taking her hand into his, he nods, and together they walk into the village.

—

Zelda finds a comfortable spot on the edge of the well, legs dangling off the side and face shielded from the bright sun. She sits there, watching the children of the village run around and play, swinging at each other with sticks and throwing pebbles, while Link is off working in one of the farm fields. There are women behind the well gossiping a little loudly for her liking, but after a few hours she manages to tune them out.

One of the children approaches her grinning, missing teeth and all. Zelda’s world stops for a moment, forced to recall the faces of the children she aided in killing. She remembers running through Kakariko Village, drenched and dirty, and seeing the agonizing faces of the village youth while she desperately searched for Impa. She remembers the bodies—Goddesses, the bodies—both young and old, strewn across the cobblestone streets of Castle Town. Of all the memories she can visualize the best, it has to be that one.

“Hello, miss,” the child greets with a slight lisp.

Her world unpauses and she swallows hard, forcing herself to look into the child’s eyes. “Hello,” she replies.

“What’s your name? I’ve never seen you before.” There’s a booger under the child’s nose and a leaf in his hair.

“My name is Zelda.”

She’s staring at this child she’s never met before, with his big round eyes and missing teeth, and she pays special attention to the sound of his breath and the rise and fall of his chest. This child is alive, she knows, yet she can’t help but think of all the children whose blood stains her hands.

“Woah!” His eyes widen and his mouth drops open in shock. “Like the princess?”

“I suppose,” she sighs. In reality, she hates the title. It stings like a thorn even when it’s just an echo inside her head. Hearing the word forces her to recall the countless tales and rumors spread about her through the castle halls one hundred years ago, of her failures and incompetence.

“My mom has told me all sorts of stories about the princess! Like how pretty and nice she was.” Scowling, he crosses his arms. “Though my mom wasn’t alive then, so I don’t know how she knows that.”

“What are some other stories she’s told you?” Zelda raises a brow and leans in curiously. Does her memory survive on a different breath in this new Hyrule? For all intents and purposes, she doesn’t recognize herself from one hundred years ago as truly her. When people speak of the princess, they speak of a woman long dead.

“I don’t remember all of them, but she’s behind the well you’re sitting on. You could ask her.”

She glances back and winces. “Um, I think I’d rather have you tell me.” Zelda hops off the edge of the well and kneels down in front of the child. “What’s your name?”

“My name is Nebb,” he says. “Say, I don’t remember much about the princess, but I can tell you about this one guy I know.”

“Sure,” she replies, sitting on the ground next to Nebb.

“There was this traveler who came by our village a lot,” he begins, “and I asked him to show me a ton of weapons! I don’t know how he was able to find all of them, though. I think he lives in the old house outside of town.”

Zelda hums, resting her head in her hands. She thinks of Link, of the various weapons on display in their house, and there’s no doubt in her mind that she knows exactly who Nebb is talking about.

“I might know him,” she says.

“Really?” Nebb shouts. “He’s so cool, isn’t he? I’ve seen him totally demolish the Bokoblins that come too close to the village before.”

“He’s very cool,” she agrees, trailing off as a little girl approaches them. “And who is this?”

“I’m Narah!” says the little girl. “This is my brother.” She gestures to Nebb and he groans before running away to go play.

“Well, Narah, I’m Zelda.”

“I like to talk,” Narah states. “Ask me some questions!”

“Like what?”

“I don’t know. You’re the one asking them.”

Zelda can’t help but laugh. It’s a bright and healthy laugh, one that enraptures Link as he approaches her, sweaty from a day in the field.

“Someone’s enjoying herself,” he chuckles, helping Zelda stand from the ground. Narah gets bored with the attention no longer on her and chases after her brother.

“The children are very sweet,” Zelda admits. “Apparently people share stories about me.”

“They do,” he says. “They’re nothing like the stories you heard all those years ago.”

“What do you mean?”

Her steps as they walk back to the house are more confident, and her grip on his hand is sure.

“I know how people talked about you back then, Zelda. I figured it out through my memories.” He pushes the door open for her, setting his pitchfork against the outside wall before stepping inside. “But these people… they look up to you. You’re a beacon of light to them.”

“But I didn’t do the one thing I was supposed to,” she argues. “They don’t look up to me. They look up to the princess of a century ago.”

“They know you as that princess—that princess who valiantly sacrificed herself to the Calamity to prevent it from reaching their homes. You are what kept Hyrule alive all this time.”

“I’m not a princess anymore,” she mumbles, climbing up the stairs. “It’s just Zelda now. Besides, they don’t even know I’m her. We are two different people now, Link.”

He says nothing, only steps up to the kitchen counter and rummages through the cupboard.

“What do you want for dinner?”

—

She ventures into Hateno Village with him every day now, sitting at her usual spot along the edge of the well and talking to the village children. They are healing, she finds, with their wide smiles and innocent, naive eyes. After some days, she starts playing with them, chasing them around the village and tossing balls back and forth.

She would give anything to go back in time and have the childhoods they have. To frolic in the outdoors, to have both parents, to play and wish and dream and be a child. If Zelda wasn’t so wary of the statues of the Goddess Hylia, she would pray at them once more, pray for a real childhood.

One day, she finally talks to the mothers behind the well. Or, rather, they talk to her.

“Miss,” one of them prods, “why do you come watch our children everyday?”

“Oh, um.” Zelda fiddles with her fingers. “They’re very sweet.”

The women exchange strange glances. “You’re not trying to snatch up my little boy, are you?”

“No! Of course not, no,” Zelda hastily replies. “Nebb introduced himself to me. I enjoy playing with the children.”

The women still aren’t satisfied, and she can tell, so she asks, “What’s it like to be a mother?”

“Oh, it’s something, alright,” the woman with her brown hair tied up groans. “Every day is a struggle. Wake up, get ready, yes, you do have to finish all your veggies!”

Zelda smiles a little but wonders if it is really so much of a struggle to gossip behind the well every day.

“But there are times where I relish it,” the other one pipes up. “My children gave me a purpose when I had none.” A dreamy look casts itself upon her eyes. “They are my pride and joy, as difficult as they can be. My guiding lights, so to speak.”

And something clicks inside Zelda’s mind.

Link picks her up again at the well, sweaty and hot and tired as he normally is after a long day of moving hay and harvesting crops, and as they walk over the bridge to their house she stops him with a gentle hand on his shoulder. He looks over to her, frowning with concern.

“Link, I want a child,” she states, and his jaw drops.

Normally, he would try to keep her out of bed for as long as possible. That night, however, he wastes no time in helping her into it.

And so their life continues on exactly like that—days spent working or playing with the village children, rubbing her belly in the hopes she may have one too, nights spent panting in bed, kissing, hot and sweaty and intimate. They’re not strangers to making love, but they are new to doing so with a purpose.

Zelda is suspicious when she misses her period, but what solidifies her hypothesis is when she wakes up one morning with a sick feeling in her stomach before leaping out of bed and rushing outside to dispose of last night’s dinner all over the grass. Link awakens only moments later, finding her outside hunched over and gripping one of the house’s posts. He holds her hair back while she retches some more.

“Zelda…?”

She can only look back at him and smile, nearly laughing with joy, before jumping up to hug him.

“I still don’t get it,” he says while she peppers kisses all over his face.

“Link, I missed my period a while ago,” she explains, finding her footing on the grass. “And feeling sick in the morning, throwing up… do you not know what it means?”

His face contorts in thought, eyebrows furrowed and nose scrunched. His blue eyes drift off to something in the distance as he racks his brain for a possible conclusion.

Zelda whispers into the ear of her lover, “I’m pregnant.”

She can’t see his face light up because he hugs her so tight she’s struggling to breathe, but she lets it happen. Her wish, her one prayer she had ever bothered to offer to the Goddess after the defeat of the Calamity, comes true.

—

The nine months go by like a breeze, her bump growing week by week, having to stay home and rest more often because of it, but she’s happy. She spends her evenings in the rocking chair Link constructed for her, singing to her belly as she rubs it with her soft hands. Her cravings get weirder, too. One week, she’s asking for delicious fruitcake, and the next, she’s asking for soup but instead of meat, it’s monster parts.

Still, Link obliges, going out and picking (or slaying) whatever he needs to to satisfy her. Eventually, the doctor they visit in the village has to start coming to them when it becomes too backbreaking for Zelda to walk, and by some will of the Goddess, the doctor is present when she goes into labor on a rainy autumn morning.

Even as she’s pushing and screaming and grunting, Zelda thinks Hylia must be apologizing, because according to the doctor, it was one of the easiest deliveries he’s ever assisted with. He hands Zelda her baby, wailing and wriggling, small and pale, with a head of soft, thin hair, colored like Link’s. The doctor leaves them alone, lingering downstairs in case anything else needs to be done.

Link kneels by the bedside, watching as Zelda coos at the baby and pokes at her tiny hands. “What will we name her?” she asks him.

“Do you have any ideas?”

She hums, but her eyes never leave the baby. “I would like to name her Impa,” she says.

“I think that’s a great name.” His voice is a whisper now, quiet and hushed as he marvels at the sight of Zelda and their child, and for the first time in a long while, his beloved’s green eyes shine once more.

She smiles down at her baby, because even in a Hyrule she thought long dead, new life still prospers.

#zelink week 2021 #zelink #botw #zelda #link #breath of the wild

[miss-kittys-magical-library]

Waiting For A Star To Fall

Nikolai x Selina

Word Count: 6k

Warnings: minor angst and fluff, oral sex (m/f receiving), brief thigh riding, penetration, use of sex toys, language gif by @vousnavezrienvu

A/N: Selina and Nikolai's first date turns into more than they ever imagined. 

This took a stupid amount of time to write and became a pure labor of love. Thank you @magic-multicolored-miracle and @neuroticpuppy for being with me the ENTIRE way.  And @bisexualnathanyoung and @forenschik for being my guinea pig

September 1992

Selina’s phone rang, but Sunny beat her to it as he threw himself over the arm of the futon in her minuscule apartment.  His elbow rammed into the wall, and Selina insisted he deserved it.

“Hello?” 

There was a momentary pause.  Selina stood cross-armed with a frown on her face.

“I don't recall anyone with that name living here.  It's just my sister, myself, and the guy from the sixth floor who was murdered in 1985.” 

“SUNNY!!” 

He waved her off,  “Why would I be fucking with you?  You called here.  My sister didn't give you this number, she's a virtual nun!  She's not one to take up with strange foreign men.”

Selina launched herself at her little brother.  He held the cordless phone above his head and levitated the ten feet towards the ceiling.  His legs curled up underneath so she couldn't grab him by the ankle. 

“UNFAIR!!”  

“EVOLUTIONARY ADVANTAGE!” he shouted and stuck out his tongue.  “You were saying?”

“You aren't evolution!  You're a science experiment that was implanted in our mother by The Men In Black.”

“Low blow.” Sunny flipped Selina off and went back to the caller.  “I mean that may or may not be the woman you ravished lakeside.  I know my sister is her own woman.  You scandalized her though.  I think you made her feel.. feelings.  Rude.” 

“NICKLAUS ELTON KOSTAS GIVE ME MY PHONE!”

He held up his hand.  “HEY! I can speak Russian you know.”  And then Sunny did for the next several minutes occasionally glancing down at his sister.  

Finally, he came back to the couch and held out the receiver to Selina.  “It's for you.  He's very perturbed, and Slavic.  And sexy.”

She yanked the phone from her brother and flipped him off.  “Klaus should've left you in 1989.”  Her voice softened and her cheeks flushed as she finally answered, “Hi.” 

Sunny hovered a few feet off the ground as Selina blabbered on in flirtatious Russian.  He sneered and poked fun at the way his sister wound her finger up in her hair and then released it.  When that didn't work, craving her attention, he began to hold an imaginary conversation with an exaggerated Russian accent.  

Selina threw the first thing she could at her little brother.  The remote control sailed across the room at Sunny who simply held up his hand, palm towards his sister.  The remote hung in the air like he did.  Then he narrowed his eyes which caused the object to lower to the floor. Selina sighed and returned to the conversation. 

“Wait, you wanna take me out?”  A pause.  “You don't have to repay me.  I'm just practicing for when I'm ethically obligated to save someone.” Pause. “Arsonists and thieves too!”  Selina smiled wide as the flames licked her cheeks and ears now.  “How attractive you are doesn't alter Samaritan laws, Nikolai.” 

Sunny rolled his eyes flabbergasted at how his sister’s entire demeanor changed the moment she began to speak to the Russian from Sway Lake.  She was being coy.  Dare he say seductive as she ignored everything he managed to garner attention.  

Sunny had always been the object of his sister’s devotion.  EVERYONE’S devotion really.  As the youngest of eight “children,” it was his birthright.  Now here he was, slowly becoming Selina’s third favorite person.  Not a single soul, no matter how rakish or good in bed, would ever replace Leon. 

“Sure.  Yeah, I’d like that.”  Selina had a dopey grin on her face.  “Tonight?!  I mean can you even get reservations?”  “Trust you?  I don't know why I should, but I guess I will.  I'll meet you there. Do svidaniya, Nik.. KOLYA.”  

Selina hung up the phone and threw a pillow this time at Sunny.  He crashed to the floor having been caught off guard and rubbed his ass.  

“Just be HUMAN FOR FIVE MINUTES.” 

“I AM HUMAN!! I'M JUST.. Super.” 

“Super egotistical.”

“I can't help that the love of our parents turned me into a badass.” 

“I just pray Reginald never finds you.  You're the success to his failure with Klaus.”  Selina meant that last bit with her entire being.  “Now get out, I've a date tonight.” 

---

“Nikolai, I can't run that fast in these boots!”  Selina yelled as she desperately tried to catch up to her date.  She could hear a fast-approaching man behind her yelling obscenities in a dialect she wasn't familiar with.  Bulgarian or Lithuanian maybe. 

He stopped at the corner.  “We are wearing the same ones, look how fast I'm moving.  I think it must be the several rum and cokes you had.  Come,” Nikolai held out his hand, “we will go faster together.” 

Selina rolled her eyes but linked her hand with his.  Nikolai took off, and she started to laugh.  The exhilaration and adrenaline coursed through her veins.  Never in a million years would she have imagined dining and ditching.  

Nik was so calm as he spoke to the waiter in the dialect they were being bellowed at.  He never blinked.  Then the waiter nodded, took something from him and walked away.  Nikolai stood and clasped Selina’s hand and began to make his way towards the door. 

“Nikolai, shouldn't you pay?” 

There was a slight shake to his head.  He never looked back, just kept going with Selina tight to his side.  They made it to the door before they both had to give chase. 

Selina swung out into the street.  She waved and whistled loudly at an oncoming taxi.  To her shock, it stopped to pull over for them.  Nik was incredulous but had no choice except join his date as she yanked him inside the cab.  

“Bleecker and Christopher, please,” she instructed the taxi driver.  Selina turned to the Russian beside her,  “Are we going to break the law EVERY time we're together?”  

“Yes.  Like a new Bonnie and Clyde.”  Nikolai lifted the hand Selina hadn't realized he was still holding.  His lips brushed the back of it, “Without being shot to death by the FBI.” 

Selina's heart pounded in her ears.  She couldn't remember seeing anyone look attractive in the color orange.  Yet here was the man beside her, currently with a look she could only describe as voracious, pulling it off.  Her cheeks grew hot under the weight of his stare. 

“What?!” came out in an embarrassing giggle. 

“I cannot look at something beautiful?” 

“You don't have to lay it on THAT thick.  I'm taking you back to my apartment already.” 

“I'm not trying to trick you, Lina.  I think you are beautiful. I almost blew my own mission.  Especially under the moonlight.  You made me forget what I was doing.  Your willingness to allow me to do unspeakable things to your body helped,” he teased.  

Selina decided to play coy as the taxi stopped in front of her building.  “Let's see what happens under this month’s full moon.” 

---

Selina and Nikolai on the fire escape outside her living room window.  Selina a few beers in and a few steps above.  Nikolai nursing a beer of his own while settled between her knees.  His arm under her knee to snake around her calf.  His fingers mindlessly stroked her ankle to the naked foot dangling in his lap. 

They had fallen into a contented silence after nearly two hours of talking.  Sharing stories in Russian and English.  Nik’s curiosity about the photos and books and records she owned was endless.  Selina had a hard time keeping up and answering as he flitted along from keepsake to keepsake. 

Yes, that's Elton John.  Somehow he and her parents were old friends.  He dedicated “Your Song” to her parents every concert they went to.  Selina could never figure out why. 

The somehow dower, yet smiling man, with a giant cigar in his mouth that tossed Selina in the air while little Sunny hung from his back was her Godfather, Tom.  He had been a CIA agent that now lived in a cabin with his beautiful French wife, Ella.  That's where she had been  staying up at Sway Lake.  Yes he did always look like a lion with a thorn in his paw, but he was soft and kind and loving.  

The Lady Godiva on the horse was her mother, Honey, back when she frequented Studio 54.  Selina recalled her hair rivaled only Cher’s at that stage.  Raven colored and long enough to hide her naked body (barely) as she sat side saddle on the white mare.  Her head resting against the back of an equally nude man. Her one arm wrapped around his thin waist. 

Nope, Nik was totally not imagining things.  The man holding the reins did strongly resemble her brother and himself.  That was HER papa, Leon. His hair in perfectly wild curls to his shoulders. His face full of confidence and sex. 

The questions began to wear Selina down.  No one had ever been this inquisitive or interested in her life.  Her family.  Her.  The endless questions, punctuated by making out until their lips chapped, about her personally.  Then, between an anecdote about Luther and rollerskating and tongues fighting for dominance they stopped.  

Now Nikolai lifted Selina’s foot and kissed the top of it.  Then his mouth made its way up her shin.  When he reached her knee, Nik turned abruptly to face the woman behind him.  He set the bottle down on the windowsill before kneeling on the stairs.  He slid the hem of her dress up, fingers hooked into the fabric of her panties to tug them off.  He kissed her inner thigh before letting his tongue trace painfully slow along her sex. 

Selina could only grasp the railing.  Her fingers curved around the cold metal and she cried out in pleasure as Nikolai slipped his tongue inside of her.  

It slid in and out before eventually discovering her clit.  His hands on her ass so that he could pull her onto his face.  Encourage her to ride him as his tongue flicked in circles and then snaked in and out. 

Selina started to lose herself.  Her free hand tugged at Nik’s hair while her hips bucked and the spark grew.  She twitched and cried out louder as his mouth and tongue worked faster.  She opened her eyes to look down at the man keen to make her cum. 

Almost as if he could feel her eyes on him, Nikolai looked up at Selina.  She felt strange, shameless and used her own thumb to wipe away what was on his lips.  She sucked on it briefly then grabbed Nik by the shirt towards her.  Wanting for a kiss.  

Selina revelled in the way she tasted on his lips and inside her own mouth.  Like beer and bitterness.  She had never done that before Nikolai and the lake.  She wanted to do it again, and every time he went down on her.  She wanted to put him in her mouth.  To suck and lick and make him bend and writhe.  

She could, she thought, now.  Selina pushed Nik away at arms length meaning to have him sit on the stairs so she could give him head.  Her fingers deft at the belt buckle and buttons on his pants. She laughed full of nerves as he fumbled, THE OVERCONFIDENT RUSSIAN FUMBLED!! 

Nikolai fumbled with the buttons on his dress shirt before he finally came loose.  He yanked his pants and boxers over his hips and held his cock in his hand. Nik parted her legs and started to push inside, but Selina held up her hands.

“What are you doing?”

“Do you not want me to have sex with you?”  He was more shocked than angry. 

Selina ran her hands over his chest and stomach then up around his neck.  “I very much want to fuck you.” Nikolai huffed, but Selina continued, “I mean I've seen you naked and can't get over how fucking sexy you are.”  

“Then what is wrong?  Not here?  Maybe this is not comfortable for you.  We’ll go inside.”  He stood and held out his hand.

“It's probably the same as fucking on a bunch of sticks and acorns.”

Nikolai sniffed again at the use of the word “fucking.”  “Then what is wrong?”

Selina stood and climbed in through the windows.  Her date followed.  “There's an international health crisis.   A incurable disease that passes mostly via sex and fluids?” she shouted from her room as she rummaged through drawers. 

“Do you mean The..AIDS?  Is that not for,” he chose his words carefully, “The gay men?” 

Selina could tell Nik was more confused than anything.  She heard this all the time at the clinic where she volunteered. “Or you could be bisexual or pansexual like my brothers.  Contract it from a man and pass it to a female partner.”  

She appeared in the living room now with a small foil package.  “Or an IV drug user, also like my brother, and get it that way.” 

Selina started to unwrap the condom without noticing that Nikolai was standing completely nude in her living room.  “This is usually where most guys bail.  They're not interested in protection or rubbers.  Mostly just a pump and..” she looked up and paused in her tracks. She was distracted by his body and neck and eyes and jawline.  “Christ on a cracker.”

“What?”  he chuckled.  

“Sorry! I know. I know.  AIDS talk is a bummer.  I get this close to just.. sitting on a dick and I panic?  Everyone in my family got the sexual confidence memo but me.” 

“Why are you panicking now?  You did not freak out by Sway Lake.”  

Nikolai couldn't help the teasing in his voice.  He reached out for Selina to draw her close to his body.  His knee inside of her thighs just like that night.  

Now he unzipped and helped her out of the dress.  “I think it's very sexy when you talk like a nurse. So smart and commanding.”  His hands ran over her bare back and down to her ass as he brushed his nose along her neck up to her ear.  He nipped at the lobe, “That can be very erotic putting a condom on.” 

“Nik,” Selina could only squeak out.  Her body involuntarily started to rock back and forth. 

“It's Kolya.  In Russian we use end of names,” he breathed in her ear.  “Like your sister, Vanya.   Little Ivan.”

“Ok,” Selina didn't want to hear about Vanya right now.  Or Klaus.  Or Diego.  Instead she got down on her knees.  The condom was still in her hand as she used the other to hold his erection towards her mouth.

“Lina, what are you doing?”  

She looked up through her bangs, her tongue darted out to trace around the head of the cock.  “Sucking your dick.  What else does it look like?”  She took it fully in her mouth, letting the tip hit the back of her throat.  

“Fuck,” he mumbled in Russian.  “Dorogoya, stop.”  

Selina sat back with a popping sound, “Did I do it wrong?  I'm like, the LEAST experienced person in this family.”

“You don't have to be an expert.  A blow job is a blow job, we can practice another time.  I want to be inside of you.  And I have been very patient.”

Selina stood, but Nikolai lifted her completely off the ground.  She wrapped her arms and legs around him as they stumbled towards the futon.  Mouths and tongues at war as Nik sat her down on the cushions.  Selina held eye contact as she expertly unrolled the condom down the length of his cock.  She kissed his stomach as he noticeably shuddered.  

Nikolai let his fingers caress Selina’s bottom lip before crawling on top of her.  She still held his erection in her hand as he threw one of her legs over his shoulder.  He held her bent knee to the side as she taunted him with her sex.  Guiding it just inside before digging her nails into his ass so that he buried himself to the hilt. 

Selina clawed at his back as Nik started to undulate.  Over and over, further inside each time.  Their bodies rocked wildly as Selina’s muscles started to shake from the position she was in.  She clung to him desperately as he searched for her neck and chest with his lips.  

Nikolai’s mouth devoured one of her breasts.  He sucked and bit at Selina’s nipple.  She cried out in shock at the sensation.  The sound egged him on to go harder.  

“So you like that too?” His voice raspy in her cleavage. His suckling and biting increased.  She mewled in reply. 

Selina was worried that it wasn't working.  That she couldn't or wouldn't orgasm.  Not like she did when he went down on her.  How she hung from the cliff.  

She WAS being pleasured.  Nikolai was hitting the right spots, but she was so nervous about what she looked like under the lamplight.  His rhythm and pounding, it was pounding, into her was unmatched.  She cried out with exaggeration to indicate she had cum hoping he wouldn't notice. 

“Fuck!” he cried out and propped himself up by the back of the futon.  

Nik’s body arched while his hips made circular motion.  He spasmed and shuddered as his body immediately went into shut down mode.  His face covered in a sheen of sweat as he pressed his forehead into Selina’s neck then pecked it a few times. 

“I.. am sorry, Lina.” There was disappointment in the Russian’s voice as he held the condom so he could pull out.

“For what?”   Her arms and legs still enclosed around his back and hips.  

“You did not.. cum,” Nik’s eyes searched the woman below him.  “I should have tried better.  I just was so turned on by you.”  He swept the damp hair away from her forehead. 

“You were fine!  It was good.  Really good.  I got in my own head is all.  Maybe next time?” 

“You mean later tonight,” he winked then pecked the tip of her nose. “I won't leave until you are honestly screaming my name.”  There were four dimples Selina counted in his smile.  

“Then we’ll sleep on it first.” 

---- 

Selina tip toed out to the kitchen both starved and thirsty.  She thought about Nikolai's playful threat about not leaving until she got off and chuckled to herself.  Then she peered around the wall to see him asleep on the futon.  His mouth slightly agape and one hand under his cheek. 

Would it be so bad with him around all the time? She thought as she cracked open a beer.  To not be alone when she came home from a shift?  How nice it would be to have conversations with someone not “related” in some form or another. 

And Nikolai was interested in Selina.  He still dodged questions about himself, answering straightforwardly with no details.  She knew it was because he didn't trust her just yet.  It wasn't like she didn't have secrets of her own, but the more open she COULD be, the more she knew Nik would reciprocate.  It had to be lonely with only one confidante. 

Selina turned around and jumped a mile in the air.  “Motherfucker!”

Nikolai was casually leaning against the doorway watching her contemplate life and drinking a beer.  “She IS very sexy,” he replied with a cheeky grin. 

Selina rolled her eyes and walked towards her kitchen table to keep distance between herself and the Russian.  As if she were daring him to chase her.  Nik made her feel so contradictory.  In control and submissive.  Safe yet dangerous.  Lustful.  

There was no opposite to that, she realized.  The light from her small kitchen window illuminated the lines and definition of his chest and shoulders.  The collarbone that met in the middle and moved up into his thick neck with its Adam's Apple bobbing along as he swallowed.  A sharp intake of breath before he clenched his jaw.  

Selina’s heart pumped into her ears as he casually reached across the table for her, but she ducked out of the way.  His eyebrows knit together in confusion as they danced around for only a few moments until she allowed him to grab her by the elbow.  Her world stood still as he took her in his arms, back to his chest. 

“I have been thinking, rypka, about our little challenge,” Nikolai settled one hand on her breast which he massaged lightly paying close attention to her nipple.  His mouth somewhere behind her ear as his other hand dropped to her sex. 

A finger found its way inside of Selina and she lost the air in her lungs.  It curved and hooked before making a lazy swirl around her clit.  “Already?” was all she managed.  Her nails closed around his wrist and urged him on. 

“I would like to try a different way of having sex with you.  I just don't want you to be offended.”  

Nik let go of Selina and placed her arms on the tabletop.  He spread her hands out; bent her forward so that her top half was pressed into the wood surface.  Then he grabbed her hips so that her ass was flush with his hardened cock.

“No anal,” she moaned.  “Wear a condom,” another instruction. “Bathroom shelf.” She grazed against him. 

“If you insist,” Nikolai replied in Russian. “I will obey.”  

There was a playful slap on Selina’s ass, and she felt herself swell and throb.  A first time for everything. If she enjoyed it, wet from the sting of being struck, it was.. genetic.  

Her brothers, father, even Honey mentioned the occasional pain got them going.  Klaus and Sunny with varying degrees of punishment.  She knew from eavesdropping or snooping that her parents preferred it light: spanking or hair pulling.  Maybe she did as well.  Too vanilla to ask.  Inexperienced to what she wanted from a partner. 

“Do it again?” Selina tried not to sound desperate as Nikolai tore into the condom wrapper.  She almost presented herself to him as she felt the smooth surface on her cheek.

“What?” he was distracted.  There was a strange snap of latex as he adjusted it.  Then taunted Selina with the head of his cock.  He rubbed it along her slit, marveling at how easy it was to slide in. 

“Hitting me?” she asked timidly. 

“Why would I hit you?” Nikolai was offended.  His hand flat on Selina's back as it traveled to her neck and hair.  His fingers combed and intertwined with her dark waves then lightly tugged. 

Selina braced herself as he lost himself up to the hilt.  Nikolai's pelvis met her ass and pulled out to just the tip.  He repeated this until he gained friction.  Her head and hips were his anchor so he could thrust quicker. Their bodies make a clapping noise. 

“My ass.  Like you did.  Hit it.”  She was willing to try anything.  Wanted to cum for him.  She knew she could, she did it alone all the time.

“Really?” Nik was surprised.  His pace was even faster and the table started to creak under the motion.  “Did you like it then?” His hand cracked her flesh but only slightly harder than before.  

Selina cried out.  Her sex ached and was swollen.  Nikolai did it one more time, but she could tell it wasn't really his thing.  Sensed that it bothered him to be serious about erotic corporal punishment.  Playing was different.  His hand did tighten in her hair to bend her head back. 

“I don't know,” was all he mumbled in Russian.  

The hand that spanked Selina now encompassed her own on the table.  He bent to kiss her shoulder as he found his breakneck rhythm. 

“Then just go harder,” Selina found her voice now.  She relaxed and allowed her body to take how deeply he penetrated her.  His cock at that angle hitting a spot she found mythical. 

Nikolai railed into Selina.  The table and their bodies shook almost violently as he pounded into her.  His shaft lost until she felt a pressure in her womb.  He stood straight and clutched at the thick of her hips.  Her curves she inherited from her mother.  They cushioned her as his body and cock pleased her.  That spark and wave rolled over Selina like on the couch.  

They weren't quiet.  Both forgetting about neighbors as Selina mewled and screamed out. Nikolai growled and uttered obscenities in his first language.  They were certain this would be it, that Selina would orgasm and Nik would feel satisfied that he could please her.  

Instead, his body violently shuddered as he exploded inside the condom.  His muscles and adrenaline gave way to Nik almost collapsing on top of Selina.  He faltered prior to catching her up in his arms again.  He held her and whispered apologies to her as they kissed. 

“Kolya,” she whispered back.  “It's fine.  I was really close.  We have other times to  experiment.”  Selina swept his damp curls back. 

Nikolai leaned into her hand, “You want to keep being with me?” 

“That's what dating is,” she laughed under her breath. “I like being with you.  I wanna know more about YOU though.  Come on,” Selina took his hand.  “Let's actually go to bed and talk.”

---

Selina reached blindly for Nikolai after her alarm went off.  Sitting up, she slammed the clock and turned to see an empty space on the side of the bed he had fallen asleep on. 

She knew he wasn't obligated to be there when she woke up.  This time waking up alone left a weird knot in her stomach.  

“Fuck,” she tossed herself back and threw a pillow over her head to scream.  Her arms and legs failed around like a toddler throwing a fit. 

How long was enough before she called him?  Would he just disappear now? Klaus called it, funnily enough, ghosting.  Why did everything Nik say tread a weird line between romantic and calculating?  And why did Selina want him to keep saying things, anything at all, to her? 

How does someone know they're falling in love? How did Honey and Leon?  Klaus and Dave.  Allison and Ray.  Diego and Patch or Lila.  Vanya and Sissy.  Uncle Tom and Aunt Ella.  Poor Luther.

Selina’s family had a knack for impulsive behavior when it came to attraction.  Her mom moved to a foreign country with a man she had slept with for money.  Klaus fought in Vietnam for a closeted man that kissed him once. Sunny went home with, to Selina’s chagrin, anyone who showered him with the simplest of affection. And Selina had laid down and spread her legs for a Russian committing arson.  

“Lina you are awake?” Nikolai asked from the other room. 

She threw a bathrobe on and wandered into the kitchen.  “You came back.”

Nik was reaching above her tiny sink for coffee mugs and plates.  “Did you not want me to?”

He set the dishes out and opened a box to pull out some pastries and bagels.  Then poured coffee and handed Selina the cup. 

“I wasn’t sure what you liked,” he offered her the plate.  “Greek, Italian and Russian,” a satisfied grin flashed across his face.

“Well that was kind of you,” she smiled back and helped herself to a cannoli and Russian tea cookie.  “Yes, I wanted you to come back. I think I kinda always do?” she questioned her own intentions with a mouthful of pastry. 

Nik leaned over and kissed Selina.  His tongue darted out to taste the sweet ricotta filling on her lips; she reciprocated.  Her own slipping to the back of his mouth to catch him off guard. Nik steadied himself on her hips. 

There was a muddled sound of pleasure when Selina’s fingers unbuttoned Nikolai’s shirt in expert time.  Their mouths never separated as she went to work on his belt and pants as he struggled to take his boots off. 

“This was not my plan for this morning,” Nik breathed heavily in Russian. 

“I'm just really interested in us reaching that goal,” Selina helped him out of his clothes.  

Kissing again, they could feel their lips start to chap already as Selina began backing Nik into her room until he hit the foot of her bed.  As he leaned back, she climbed on his lap.  Her hands seized his cock and settled it in the folds of her sex.  Selina rolled her hips.

“What are you doing!?” Nikolai could only cry out. Astonished by the lack of a condom.  

“I'm sick of being the safe one,” she raised up on her knees so that she was above him.  Her hands on his face and neck as she snaked her tongue to the back of his teeth again.  

Selina shoved him back on the bed and threw off her robe.  She straddled Nikolai like a woman possessed, took his hands and placed them on her breasts as she rode him.  Still not penetrated.

Nik lost himself for a moment.  He massaged the breasts.  One hand teased a nipple, pinched it,  before sitting up to devour it.  Selina held him to her chest, clung to the hair on the back of his head and pulled in her excitement.  Her fingers found the gnarly scar and she rocked harder on his lap. 

“I want you to fuck me until I cum.” 

Nikolai looked up and held her back, “It is not fucking at this point.  Not for me, Lina.  Also you must not compromise your principles for anyone.  I do not want this for you.”  

Selina groaned with exasperation.  Her walls were swollen and slick and wanting.  “It's not a compromise, Nik.  Everyone jumps in my family and trusts they’ll fly while I stand on the cliff pacing back and forth.” 

He blinked, mouth just slightly agape.  That face.  Selina knew that face.  She loved that face.  She loved this face. “Lina, you are extraordinary.  You don't need to have a big life just yet.  It will happen.” 

“Kolya,” her words softer now as she relaxed, “I love you.”

“Do you?!” a dopey grin spread across Nikolai's face.  “It is the same for me I think?  I've never done this, you know.  “That I love you.”  

He kissed Selina before turning under her to rummage around the nightstand drawer. “Now we will go back to the way you prefer?  If I need to I will get..” he stopped and held something aloft.  Now his smile and dimples were devilish. 

He studied it before making it buzz with a push of a button.  “Pocket Rocket?! Lina, are you secretly naughty?" he giggled. 

"I don't think it's a secret to you anymore,” she reached for it.  Her cheeks turned red. 

"Who do you fantasize about when you use it?" Nikolai held it to Selina’s breasts.  He watched with fascination as her nipples hardened.  He let it travel over her stomach and back up. 

Selina moaned and twisted. "You're just trying to get me to say you, but I've had it since I turned twenty.  So mostly you know.. Keanu Reeves..”  

“But not me?" his eyebrow cocked.  Nikolai traced the vibrator along her hips and over her pelvic bone.  

"Once in a while,” her words came out breathless.

"As a Russian, I'm already superior at using it because rocket?” he waggled his brows now.  “We can now?  With you on top?”

The toy found her slit and slid inside easily.  It buzzed and made the air rush out of Selina’s lungs.  She dug her nails into Nikolai's chest while he started to use the vibrator to have sex with her.  Found a pattern of in and out while she bucked and writhed.  

Selina reached back to anchor herself on one of Nik’s thighs. It allowed him better access to her clit.  He Marveled at the way she agonized under his hand as it manipulated her.  His free hand on her ass to coax her faster as SHE undulated now as he had done on the couch.  Her hips danced separately from her upper half.

Nikolai rolled Selina on her back all of a sudden.  Her hair hung off the bed as he propped up on an elbow.  He worked the vibrator in circles.  In and out of her slick walls before going after the clit.  

Selina got tangled up in the sheets as she felt a warmth spread from her stomach to her sex.  Her thighs started to tighten around Nik's hand as she thrust her hips off the bed.  Eyes clamped shut as the first wave washed over her body.  Neck exposed for him to suck and bite which urged another orgasm to burn through her.  

Nikolai was stunned by her silence.  Selina’s mouth opened in a silent cry as she came a third time in succession.  This last time she managed a strangled scream of his name which he swallowed with a kiss.  

A shiver ran through Selina while she relaxed.  Her fingers traced patterns along Nikolai's bicep as her eyes closed.  Cumming was like a sedative.  Nikolai cupping her face and drawing it to his for a lazy kiss was a sedative.  The rain she had no idea was pouring in buckets outside her window was also a sedative.  

The vibrator continued buzzing until it didn't.  The room grew quiet save for the breaths that came from Nik’s nose.  Still heavy with his still hardened bulge pressed into Selina’s hip.  There was no move to get on top of her.  To have sex with her so he, too, could cum.  She started to idly jerk him off. 

“Lina stop,” he gently took her hand.  “This was about you, not me.  It'll go away eventually.  Like I will,” he said that last bit with a challenge in his voice.  

Selina curled on her side towards Nikolai.  “Or maybe don't go?” 

“Ty khochesh', chtoby ya ostalsya?” You want me to stay?

“Po krayney mere, yeshche odno polnoluniye.”

At least one more full moon.

Tag list: @elliethesuperfruitlover @super-unpredictable98 @messengeronthemoon @nightmonsters @070188 @rob-private @firstpersonnarrator @ghouls-buddy @frogs--are--bitches @maerenee930 @duck-noises @bwritesstuff @sylvertyger @a-ghoulish-tale @icecoffeegirl @iamsexytrash @clumsyramen @falloutby @inspiremeandsetmefree @philodenmonstera @seancekitsch @the-freckled-luba @violetrainbow412-blog

#robert sheehan #robert sheehan character fic #robert sheehan imagine #nikolai x selina #song of sway lake fic #robert sheehan smut #moonbrella lake

[tink-wondering]

Title: Uther Wants To Speak To Your Manager (Hehe now you're forcedddd to write suburban uther whether you like it or nottttt hehe)

Hey... so... This took a turn. Not planned, but:

Happy Pride!

(kind of... you'll see)

Featuring:

Suburban!Uther

A punk

His kids

A twist, oh my!

From this ask game.

Rating: G

Ships: Morgwen (mentioned), Merthur (pre-slash)

Word count: 777

Uther Wants To Speak To Your Manager

“Get off my lawn, you punk!”

Uther yells at the kid from his porch in all his suburban glory: a pale blue, horizontally-striped polo shirt; beige shorts, held at his waist with a dark brown belt; white, calf-high socks on his feet, of course, tucked into sandals; and a monotone grey cap, surprisingly displaying the straight ally flag on its front.

Sadly, for the ‘punk’ the cap does not compensate the nightmare that is the outfit nor does it stop there. No, Uther marches off his porch with the most pinched look ever worn by someone who hasn’t eaten a lemon beforehand.

The teenager quickly moves off the lawn and onto the sidewalk, falsely believing in his safety once he hits the warm, sun-kissed concrete of the public road. In all his self-infused power, suburban Uther will not be defeated by something as intangible as delimitations set by a city that he funded with years of labor and subsequent taxes—taxes that were, of course, too high for a law-abiding citizen just like himself.

“Look, I did not—“ the teen starts his defence, putting up his hands to show he means no harm. However, the damage has already been done, Uther can see it from the green stains on his white sneakers, and he makes his displeasure known.

“First of all, punk, you will use appropriate appellation. My name is Mr. Pendragon or Sir,” he reprimands in what he believes is a low, calm voice but is truly the shrieking of a man desperate to preserve the pristine green of the one land he has ever owned. “Second, you see this continuation of concrete into more concrete? This is where you should step. Not. On. The. Grass.”

“Well, sir, if I have to use proper appellation for you, I think I am inclined to the same privilege. My name—“

“Kids these days are so entitled,” Uther remarks with a sneer.

“Old men, these days, are so out of sync,” the teen replies.

“You-you cannot be so disrespectful to my face! I want to talk to your manager!”

“My parents you mean?”

“I will not suffer—“

“Merlin?!” Arthur exclaims, coming back from his run and cutting through the front lawn to quickly interpose himself between them. “What are you doing out here, I told you to wait for me out—“ He stops himself, taking a moment to acknowledge the pulsating vein in his father’s forehead. “Um, hey dad.” He accompanies his greeting with a little wave.

“You know this punk?”

“Yeah, he’s my… friend?”

“Are you asking me? Because if you do, I’d tell you not to frequent punks like him.”

“He is, my friend that is. I’m making a statement, not a question. But… we have to go work on a project, the project Merlin has come to work on.” He turns pleading eyes to raven-haired teen who simply continues to glare at Uther. “Right, Merlin?”

“Your dad is so weird,” Merlin-the-punk whispers loudly as Arthur drags him away by the arm. Uther watches them run inside with a self-satisfied smirk.

“You know,” Morgana says, appearing out of nowhere, “that could’ve gone smoother than this.”

“You wanted them to stop pining, no?” Uther turns to her, taking off the cap to dissipate some of the heat that accumulated underneath it. “This will do the trick.”

“I wanted them together, not traumatized for life as will be the rest of the neighbours,” she grimaces, glancing at the public they’ve accumulated.

“I think it’ll teach Aredian not to let his dog onto our lawn ever again.” He glares at the quivering curtains from the house next door. “Also, have some faith. They’ll further bond over their weird dads, and the embarrassment of being caught will cause them to slip sooner rather than later.”

“That’s too devious a plan, even for me,” Morgana sighs. “So what’s your asking price if this works out?”

“We’ll see in due time, but how about you invite Gwen to come over and eat with us when she’s free?”

“She was here last week,” Morgana frowns.

“Not as your girlfriend, she wasn’t.”

He whistles as he walks back into the house, leaving a gobsmacked Morgana behind.

‘Ah, to be young, in love and thinking they are so secretive,’ he thinks as he enters the surprisingly quiet house. Arthur must have shut himself in his room with Merlin.

He puts the cap back on, even though he’s inside, and starts his trek up the stairs. Time to surprise them and see if they finally confess; he couldn’t wait to what excuse Arthur will try to come up.

Who said being a single father was not fun?

#This is a light cracky ficlet #a lot of stereotypes towards suburban dads #not harm meant #can be read as slightly homophobic? #just tagging it in case #but it all ends happily #though not without some embarrassment #Merthur #pre-slash #Morgwen #mentioned #Suburban!Uther #Uther Pendragon #Merlin #Arthur Pendragon #Morgana Pendragon #Gwen (mentioned) #again why am I tagging this like AO3 #ficlet #prompted writing #ask game #Uther is an ally #though he's also and embarrassment

[priscilla9993]

Killian Jones and Alcoholism

This is mainly a summary of things relating Killian/Hook to alcohol/rum. It was done for a college paper and is very long, therefore it’s under the break. To warn you, it is going to be mainly Wish Hook based since I needed to narrow it down and it was easier to show how he handled alcohol as a recovering alcoholic. Enjoy!

The character in question for this case study is Killian Jones, well known by his more colorful moniker of Captain Hook, as portrayed from the ABC TV show Once Upon A Time. He lives in a region of a fantasy realm known as the Enchanted Forest. He used to be a Royal Navy Lieutenant with his older brother Liam, straight-laced on being good and not getting into trouble in any way, especially after getting somewhere in life and no longer subjected to being an indentured deckhand like when their father abandoned them as kids. During a daring quest to Neverland to find some medicine for the king, Peter Pan said they had been tricked to bring back a poisonous plant called Dreamshade, meant to be used as a weapon against unsuspecting enemies. Killian was wary, ready to denounce his service to the king, but his brother was willing to have faith in a noble king and country. With one swift motion of the plant’s prick hoping to prove otherwise, Liam began dying and realized his mistake. Recruiting the help of Pan and some magical water, Liam was cured but soon died in Killian’s arms on the voyage back to the king, the price of the magic being death if Liam ever left Neverland with the water running through his veins. His brother’s death made Killian vengeful at his king and country as his brother had been noble until the very end and everyone else was corrupt, playing noble, proving to him that the world was at fault. From that day on, he took over the ship and decided to be a pirate named Captain Jones, pursuing freedom, and throwing away all he’s ever known because being noble didn’t serve justice. This starts his life of thievery, promiscuity, and never-ending drinking. His coping solutions to deal with his emotional pain only gets worse when he loses his hand, first love of his life, Milah, and his honor after losing a duel against Rumplestiltskin, a coward turned into a powerful Dark One; which leads him on a path of revenge to kill the Rumplestiltskin, “the crocodile”, to avenge Milah and his pride. This leads him to makeshift a hook for a hand and him going by the nickname of Captain Hook, leaving the last piece of his past behind and never letting himself be vulnerable again.

Throughout the series, whenever he or someone in his vicinity is having a rough time, his solution is to pour out some alcohol and drink his feelings away, acting like an egotistical flirt rather than expressing himself and wallowing in misery. His choice of alcohol happens to be rum, a hard liquor. The acute symptoms he has in the show are the loss of judgment, a reddened face, confusion, potentially heightened sexual desire, and sometimes blackouts/unconsciousness. There are multiple times where he’s in a tavern, pouring doubloons into drinks for his crew, rum for himself, and flirting with women/barmaids to have a nightcap with. From here on, I will refer to him as Hook unless stated otherwise. On one occasion of his usual proclivities displaying or implying such symptoms, Hook tries to seduce a woman named Emma. She manages to use his habit of drinking to her advantage, making him jolly and willing to take her back to his ship for the said nightcap; her actual objective was being a distraction while his future self did recon for info on how to get back to their timeline in a Back to the Future sort of way. He continues heavily drinking on the way back with Emma without a care for his health. As soon as the plan goes awry with Hook seeing double, Emma not realizing Future Hook was still doing recon, he gets knocked out for good measure and partial jealousy. Future Hook justifies this, saying his past self was “asking to be knocked out, will wake up upset, and blame the rum.” The lines construe how frequent the drinking was for his future self to determine Hook’s ill-mannered disposition while drunk. 

Eventually, in a parallel way that stems from drunk Hook, is a feeble and spent pirate coined as “Wish Hook”. I have and will be focusing on this iteration for the whole of the paper, but what was written before was his younger self’s background. Wish Hook is the same guy as Hook, but years older down the line, differing paths from Future Hook as he never found love again with someone like Emma and had let his grief and alcohol from more recent negative events consume him. Wish Hook had lived out most of his lifespan, having been a sober father, but cursed to be poisoned any time he drew near his daughter after a witch encounter. Haunted by his regrets and somber circumstances, he turned back to an alcoholic, spending his days eased by rum. His body and actions in this form show the physical and mental effects of chronic alcohol consumption. About ten years or less had passed between his younger self and he had become an experienced middle-aged man with a complicated history, yet he looked far older than his years and decrepit. Without a doubt, by looking at him, people could assume he was an old drunk, his liver and heart having gotten fatty and overworked from the alcohol catching up to him. His belly was rotund, his hair disheveled and gray with streaks of white, his stance crumbling to nearly falling over with each step, and clothes dirtied with filth and old rum stains. Wish Hook still had a flirty and dramatic personality to cheer himself up and mask his turmoil, rum making him courageous and numb, while his actions told another story. He didn’t have sexual desires or try to provoke anyone by that point, just wanted to drown himself in alcohol. His words typically came out slurred, his movements sluggish and unrefined, and he had low problem-solving skills when it came to formulating a plan based on anything other than motive.

In the Enchanted Forest, alcohol like rum is not hard to come by as long as money is involved. Killian Jones/Captain Hook as a pirate drinking rum all the time did not affect him negatively socially or career-wise. If anything, it boosted his status and reputation. For him to be mingling in bars asking for expensive hard liquor and fine women to spend time with was a pleasantry. Bar owners got money, the crew got free alcohol, the women got paid, and he got to immerse himself in pleasure rather than thinking about trivial or serious things. Hook was the life of the party as a pirate captain, seen as a person with good tastes and great to have a fun time with when it came to alcohol. However, when it came to settling down and being a father later on in his life, Wish Hook reserved himself back to his more vulnerable side, caring about how his alcoholism could affect his parenting or child’s perspective. There are moments like that where he’s introspective and wants to do better by others that look up to him or who he cares about. In the show, when he is parenting, there is never a time where he has a bottle or flask of rum stashed nearby or is drinking. Wish Hook deems alcohol as the problem when it affects his judgment or his perceptions on how he could hurt the way people he loves view him. Love in any form brings him back to his core of being the best person he can be.

Killian Jones’s problem originates in nurture rather than nature because his alcohol problems started after he needed a reliable coping mechanism to lean on to deal with grief and anger. Although both nature and nurture influence him, for argument’s sake, nurture has the upper hand. Growing up, his father was a person he looked up to and wanted to be like, but that changed when he found out his father was a criminal who sold him and Liam to pay a route for a selfish escape. What little of his parents shown on-screen left betrayal or sadness in him, not the desire to drink. His parents weren’t clear on alcoholics or drug users as far as it goes. The only things he inherited from nature were probably his mischievous personality, temper, looks, and a high tolerance for alcohol. Living on a ship and being a poor deckhand, Killian didn’t seem to be the kind of guy to squander his savings on alcohol or other frivolous means. However, he would be on a ship constantly surrounded by adults who drank with a captain who cared more about money rather than morals, feeling squandered by his oppressed freedom and building resentment for authority. Without his brother steering him on track, Killian was no more than a young man with impulsive rebellious nature. When Liam went to get them navy papers to earn them their freedom from Captain Silver, it took Killian an offer of temptations from Silver, as much alcohol as he could drink and a bet on his money, for him to fall hook, line, and sinker; no pun intended. Alcohol and gambling meant a reprieve from thoughts, a chance at earning more than what he had before, and the same social standing as the other men aboard the ship. Perhaps, as much as he wanted to be strong as his brother, one good force cannot shield against all of the negative parts of society and adulthood. From Captain Silver, Killian got his first taste of alcohol and his desires did the rest, leaving him blackout drunk and penniless for Liam to find. As he grew older and slowly became Captain Hook, there was nothing about pirate life, being an adult, or people to keep him from drinking. He needed people to talk to, who supported him and he could feel vulnerable in front of, but the few people he trusted in his life were dead. As anyone knows, pirates steal treasure, so they’re not exactly the forgiving or down-to-earth types. Instead, rum became the solution to drown or fuel his emotions, being the substance of celebration and de-stressor.  

Hook’s rum/alcohol addiction would fall more on the dependence spectrum rather than abuse. What had started as a small reprieve to the woes of life became a daily saving grace when he was wracked with loneliness or anger. He depended on the rum to mask his disposition of physical pain from his missing limb as well as emotional pain having experienced love and loss. Abusing alcohol meant that it would put him into dangerous scenarios, have little to no commitment to change his habits to improve his health, and he’d put off important social aspects. If it was alcohol abuse, Hook wouldn’t try changing his habits when he sees it affects others or his relationship with those he loves. Sure, he spends most of his life binge drinking and making merry with the tides of life, but when given the chance and support to abstain from alcohol, he takes it in a heartbeat. For Wish Hook, the thought of being a father who abandons his child or messes up under hazy judgment didn’t add up to him. With the birth of his daughter, Alice, he made a vow to stay with her as long as he could and to be the person he thought she could be proud of. Nevertheless, when he had lost purpose in life by something he had no control over (via death, distance, or curse), his first reaction was to either turn back to alcohol or solve his problems. Sadly, after he had spent a couple of years looking for a cure for his poison heart curse, he gave up hope and chose to go from sobriety back to alcoholism, into a form of regrettable self-destruction. Hook knew that it was not the way to go about life but he felt he had no other choice and had nothing left to lose, leading him to further prioritize and depend on rum to continue living. He built a tolerance to it, needing a copious amount to get drunk, and potentially suffering withdrawals from it after getting in too deep. From the state he was in by the time he gets old and portly, being a nearly homeless drunkard, it can be assumed that he spent most of his days looking for money to acquire more alcohol so he could feel okay.  

Finally, by the end of the series, Killian Jones had managed to go through all the stages in the Stages of Change Model. He was in the Precontemplation stage as a pirate and Captain Hook as he didn’t see a problem in his daily rum and alcohol festivities, making no commitment to change his ways. By the time he gets to be Wish Hook and becomes a father, hesitant about settling down, he could be in the Contemplation stage. He’d want to do something about his alcohol problem and not be stuck relying on it but doesn’t know how to go about it or why he should, therefore staying stagnant to change. When he has his daughter, Alice, in his arms for the first time, we see him in the Preparation stage, planning to give up his ship, sea life, status, and most importantly, rum. Hook gives himself time to think of why he would do so and how he’d commit to it, eventually telling his crew the news. By the time he is taking care of her, he has already taken the actions needed to wean himself off alcohol and apply himself towards abstinence, taking him through the Action and Maintenance stages. There is a relapse back to the Contemplation stage in the paragraph before when he becomes poisoned and loses hope. Even so, the silver lining is that he had made the hard journey back into the Maintenance stage with the help of Ariel detoxing him and others giving him a magical second chance of bodily time renewal, sparking the hope to reunite with Alice and find a cure for his poisoned heart.  

Plans go awry on this end as we get to his final iteration as he is teleported and cursed into our modern day and age as Detective Rogers. Although his memories of what happened in the past as this persona are fuzzy, he is shown to stick to his renewed alcohol abstinence and maintains that in many ways, just like when he was Wish Hook. His habits become integrated as a function rather than a hindrance as part of the Maintenance stage. As Rogers, we can see him frequent bars such as Roni’s or Flynn’s Barcade when he is invited out with others. He is shown to let others know what to get him, as a regular or not, something non-alcoholic. This usually shows up as sparkling water or regular water with a lemon slice in it. His friends and work partner continue to support his sobriety through friendly acceptance and never forcing him to drink alcohol along with them. Rogers is tempted by alcohol again when he believes a missing girl from a cold case, one he was responsible for since he was drinking on the night she went missing, is dead. He sits on a park bench alone grieving, a full bottle of rum next to him, ready to drink. As Rogers gives it a whiff, he is disgusted at himself for getting back to this state again and slams the bottle down on the bench in frustration, not even having taken a sip. He came too far that doing so again would be meaningless and would get him nowhere. Even though he is in situations full of temptation, he makes huge strides to not relapse and maintain his sobriety, with the hopes that it will eventually lead him back on the right path of happiness and belonging. Fortunately, his actions have positive consequences that ring true when the curse breaks and he gets reunited with his daughter and has the strong support of friends and family. In conclusion, Hook is a flawed human being that is more complex and his struggle with alcohol/rum is just a part of him, one he will never lose but continues living with.

#killian jones #captain hook #wish hook #detective rogers #killian jones meta #alcoholism #alcohol #stages of change #character study #ouat s7 #liam jones #slight emma swan mention

[arashikitten]

Why has no one made a Yu Yu Hakusho x Danny Phantom crossover yet?

?I mean, honestly, look at these two shows! Look at them! How is it that no one (that I know of) has made a crossover with them yet? There’s so much potential!  I mean honestly! Both are about a 14-year-old who died in or before the first episode, came back to life through some sort of shenanigans, and ended up with supernatural abilities as a result. Both Danny and Yusuke have a very close knit friend group comprised of people who know about said supernatural abilities and help them fight all form of malicious supernatural entities (Danny fights ghosts, Yusuke fights demons). Both Yusuke and Danny have a rival/arch-nemesis who, at the start of the series, is leagues above the protagonists in terms of power, but ends up being surpassed by the main protagonist sometime during the second season of their respective show. Both Vlad and Toguro serve as foils to Danny and Yusuke respectively, and while they may feel some sort of kinship with them for some reason or other, they tend to see the young protagonist as someone who is below them in terms of power, intelligence, and skills (even after that is no longer the case). Both Danny and Yusuke are snarky and seem like delinquents to all but their closest friends, but secretly they have a heart of absolute gold. Both would (and have) died for any one of their friends, and they likely have a metric fuck ton of trauma from the many, many, many times they almost watched their friends and family die right in front of them. And of course, both Danny and Yusuke are likely to become kings of their own supernatural realm (if you disregard DP’s canon in favor of the fanon like I do).

So then the question becomes this: how would a crossover between the two shows go?

Here’s how I see it playing out:

Sometime after the last episode of Yu Yu Hakusho, and right after the events of Reign Storm, Yusuke (who I would say is about 18-19 years old now) gets a call from Koenma for the first time in almost 4 years. Koenma tells Yusuke that he needs him to come back for one final case: investigate a small town in Northeastern America for recent spikes in spiritual and demonic activity. 

When Yusuke asks why Koenma wants him to look into what is seemingly a tourist trap town, Koenma tells him that the town was recently encased under a dome of spirit energy, disappeared for almost 24 hours, and then suddenly reappeared again, and Koenma suspects that someone- or something- from spirit world might be responsible.

Three calls and four plane tickets later, Yusuke and the gang land in Illinois and make their way to Amity Park. Kuwabara takes one (1) step into the town and immediately freezes. He’s always been the most spirit-sensitive of the group, and this town is setting off all of his proverbial alarms. Kurama, Hiei, and Yusuke also notice something off about the town, like everyone here has way higher spirit energy than normal. 

The four make their way through town, noticing more and more as they continue. They notice the massive craters that litter the streets. They notice the constant smell of spirit and demon energy that drenches the town like a fog, covering everything and everyone. They notice the small, silvery-grey and green devices that almost everyone seems to have on their wrist, and Yusuke can’t help but think about how similar they look to the spirit-detecting gadgets he used to have back during the beginning of his detective career. They notice the metal panels that every store seems to have hanging above their windows, waiting to come down and defend from some unknown beast.

They notice how, whenever they appear in an area, everyone in the vicinity goes silent. Tense. Wary of them. Like they know three demons just appeared, even if all of them look human.

Yusuke and his team split up to search through the town and cover more ground, agreeing to meet by the local highschool in two hours. Things just get even weirder from there. 

 Kurama finds a patch of wild blood blossoms growing near the forest, despite the fact that they were declared extinct more than 200 years ago. Hiei sees a pair of burly men wearing all white suits and dark sunglasses dragging a young man with white hair and sunglasses away for questioning. Kuwabara is surprised when a small, glowing green puppy appears in front of him, only to vanish when he leans down to pet it.

Yusuke finds a massive stone brick building with what almost looks like a UFO perched on top, and huge neon sign with the words FentonWorks on it. Here, the spirit energy is almost suffocating, and it feels like molasses, thick and heavy and dense on Yusuke’s senses. He feels something else though, something that just barely manages to break through the thick ambient spirit energy that swamps this entire block: a ghost. And a powerful one at that.

By the time the group reconvenes at the high school, everyone is tense. They’re sure that there’s something sketchy in this town, but none of them have gotten any concrete leads on what caused the town’s sudden disappearance and reappearance. Almost none of the townsfolk give them any answers, and the few that do are vague and confusing, or outright lies. Kuwabara firmly believes that this town is haunted by ghosts, and that they’re what caused the sudden disappearance, but Yusuke, having been a ghost himself at one point, is less inclined to believe that. Yusuke is convinced that the house with the weird UFO thing and abnormal spirit energy has something to do with it, and the gang agrees that would be the best place to start.

Before they can do that though, they all suddenly sense a MASSIVE spike in spirit energy, coming from the center of town. Yusuke and the gang book it to where the spike is, hoping to get some sort of lead.

Meanwhile, Danny is having a fight with Skulker, made slightly more difficult than normal due to the fact that he’s still recovering from the whole Pariah Dark fiasco. He’s been on edge all day, ever since he sensed that weird ectosignature near his house. He’d felt the typical chill of his ghost sense, but the typical puff of blueish smoke wasn’t present like it usually was. On top of that, he’d felt a small jolt of electricity, too big to be chalked up to static electricity and carrying with it a hint of... something. Something not entirely human. 

But when Danny had tried to investigate, he’d come up empty handed. Which as you can guess, made Danny My-friends-and-family-have-all-almost-been-killed-by-a-ghost-disguised-as-a-human-at-least-once Fenton more than a little nervous.

So Danny’s fighting Skulker when he feels that not-quite ghost sense again, except this time it’s even stronger than before and waaaay the hell closer. And now Danny goes from nervous to flat out terrified, because whoever or whatever is triggering his not-quite ghost sense is really fucking strong, and oh fuck are there four of them?! Are they getting closer?!?! Whatever it is is really strong, like almost stronger than Pariah Dark and Danny was barely able to take him down at 100% strength with the enhanced suit, and he no longer has the suit and he still has not fully recovered since then, so how in the fresh hell is he gonna fight four beings who are at least on par with Pariah? 

Skulker notices the sudden power spike as well and immediately bounces, leaving Danny to panic over these four insanely powerful entities. 

Yusuke and the gang make it just in time to see Skulker leave while Danny hovers in the air, looking like he’s about to blow a gasket. Kurama takes one look at the panicking ghost kid floating above him, notices the weird spirit energy around the kid, and immediately puts two and two together and realizes the kid is a ghost, and a really powerful one. Yusuke, who if you remember spent about a week as a ghost at the age of 14, is confused because I thought ghosts couldn’t be seen by living people? But these bystanders are clearly seeing this kid? 

And then Yusuke senses that strange spirit energy he felt when he went by FentonWorks, and he’s like “You were the reason for the weird spirit signature!” at Danny, who panics and flies off because now he thinks these super powerful guys are working for the GiW, and he’d rather not spend the rest of his afterlife on an examination table.

So Danny flies off, hoping to lose Yusuke and his gang, but Yusuke I-used-to-fight-demons-who-could-move-at-the-speed-of-sound-for-fun Urameshi and Hiei have absolutely no problem keeping up with the panicking halfa, and they end up fighting. Yusuke and Hiei want answers, Danny is terrified of being caught by what are possibly government agents, and finally Kurama manages to trap the halfa with ghostly vines.

Unfortunately for Danny, these vines are phase-proof, meaning he can’t escape, and he’s already hurt and exhausted and he doesn’t know how much longer he can hold his ghost form.

Yusuke picks up on the ghost’s nervousness immediately, and again assumes that this ghost is the culprit for Amity’s sudden disappearance, demanding to know why he abducted an entire town.

Danny is confused, because what the hell are these people talking about? He never abducted the town? He’s not nearly that powerful?? Before he realizes that oh, these people are trying to figure out why the town disappeared for 24 hours because literally no one outside of Amity Park has any idea why.

So Danny starts to explain what really happened, when his time finally runs out and he detransforms. 

Right in front of what he believes to be four government officials.

There are five different reactions.

Hiei goes still. He’s completely silent. This shouldn’t be possible. He wants to believe that this is all a trick, but he can hear that fifth heartbeat that wasn’t there ten seconds ago and he smells that fear scent that only humans have and glamour can only do so much.

Kurama has the calmest reaction. He leans back a little, eyes wide, and lets out a soft “oh”. Yes, this is a surprise to him, but then again, Kurama himself is a demon hiding as a human, with a human family, so he immediately sympathizes with Danny a bit.

Danny is panicking. He’s just revealed his biggest secret to four complete strangers, all of whom are absolutely powerful enough to take him out on their own, and he is terrified that they’ll turn him in to the government. He’s about five seconds from a full-blown panic attack.

Kuwabara freaks out. He’s trying to wrap his mind around this whole thing, because he is 100% sure this kid was a ghost, that he was dead, but now he’s not sensing much of anything and how the hell is this possible???? How can someone be a ghost and a human at the same time???? WHAT????? He’s pulling at his hair as he tries to put the logistics of it together, pacing back and forth.

Yusuke freezes. Suddenly he’s 14 again, floating as he watches his body get carted off as he tries to come to terms with the fact that he’s dead. Then he’s in the temple of the four saint beasts, fighting with everything he has as he watches the love of his life get attacked by monstrous zombies. Then kneeling next to Genkai’s broken and bleeding body, begging her not to go even as she draws her last breath because he couldn’t bear to lose the woman that he’s come to see as family, as the closest thing he’d ever have to a grandmother. Then he’s watching Toguro plunge his hand into Kuwabara’s heart, watching as his best freind gasps for breath because Yusuke wasn’t good enough, he wasn’t strong enough, and he just lost Genkai he can’t loose Kuwabara too-.

And when he looks down at this small, skinny teenager with deep shadows under his eyes and knuckles covered in scars from god-knows haw many fights, he sees himself as he was in the beginning: Just a kid who was thrust into the world of the supernatural without any warning, desperately trying to stay alive and protect the human world despite the fact that he’s only a teenager, and he shouldn’t have to be fighting for his life against these ancient and powerful demons because he’s a kid, dammit!

Yusuke kneels down to get to eye level with the kid. He can’t help the painful twinge in his chest when the kid looks up at him with wide, icy blue eyes, and quietly begs him not to tell anyone, because this kid can’t be much older than he was when he started out as a spirit detective and he sounds absolutely terrified, and Yusuke can’t help but wonder why he sounds so scared of people learning about the whole ghost thing. 

“Listen, kid. We’re not going to hurt you. We were sent here to investigate something, and we were hoping you might know something. Can you tell us your name?”

“Danny. D-Danny Fenton.”

“Ok, cool. Don’t worry, none of here are going to tell anyone about... about whatever this is. We just want to know about something that happened here a week ago, and we were hoping you could give us some answers.”

Danny agrees, and Kurama frees him from the vines. After a couple of moments, Danny calms down as he realizes that no, these guys won’t rat him out to the government, and he agrees to answer some of their questions.

The group make their way to the outskirts of the forest, and Danny tells them about his status as a half-ghost: he tells them about his parents, how they were building a portal to the ghost zone (Everyone is more than a little freaked out at that, because now there’s a permanent portal to spirit world that Koenma doesn’t know about), how he’d gone inside to see if he could figure out why it wasn’t working, how it’d turned on while he was inside (Yusuke clenches his fists hard enough to draw blood. Both of the times he’d died had been excruciatingly painful, but at least they’d been quick. Getting electrocuted to death would be beyond agonizing, and getting caught in a portal like that...). He tells them about how his parents despise ghosts, believing them to be cruel, malicious, and emotionless, incapable of feeling pain. He tells them about how he’s TERRIFIED of telling his parents the truth, of telling them that he’s Danny Phantom because that seems to be the ghost they want to capture the most, and he’s seen what they do to the ghosts they capture (Kurama and Yusuke feel sick at that. No wonder the kid was so adamant about keeping this a secret.). 

“Does anyone else know? Anyone at all?”

Yusuke breathes a small sigh of relief when Danny tells them that his sister and his two best friends know. That sigh of relief is rescinded when the kid tells them that oh yeah, all the ghosts that are constantly attacking the town? Yeah, they know my secret identity too.

Yusuke has to force himself to move on from that last tidbit because he’s about five seconds from adopting this kid despite being only five years older.

“Ok, neat. That’s... that’s ok. Moving on to why we’re here. We were hoping that you would have some information regarding the sudden disappearance and reappearance of Amity Park a week ago? Do you know why or how it happened?”

Danny talks about how, one week ago, ghosts started pouring out of the portal in unprecedented numbers. How they were terrified, running from something in the ghost zone. How Fright Knight had appeared, declaring the reign of Pariah Dark (Kurama and Hiei suck in a breath. Had... had this kid seriously fought against the fabled ghost king?), and the massive green dome had appeared over the town. How he’d tried to fight Fright Knight off, how another ghost by the name of Vlad Plasmius had shown up and admitted that he was the reason for Pariah Dark’s temporary freedom, how Plasmius had decided to have a temporary truce with Danny in order to defeat Pariah, how Danny had pulled Fright Knight’s sword from the ground and accidentally teleported Amity Park into the Ghost zone, how the entire town had gone under lock down. How he’d stolen the power suit from his parent’s lab to go and face Pariah on his own, and bring Amity back to Earth. How he’d just barely been able to shove Pariah back in the sarcophagus of Forever Sleep, how the power suit had almost completely drained his life energy, how the town had been back on earth when he’d woken up (Again, Yusuke has a flashback to the Temple of the Four Saint Beasts. What is it with the powers that be and sending kids to do life-threatening missions like that?).

Kurama records the entire thing before sending it to Koenma. 

When Danny is finally done, he notices that everyone is staring at him. Yusuke is the first one to speak.

“Damn kid, you really fought the king of the Ghost Zone, huh?” Danny stutters for a moment, because this guy is saying it like Danny fought a god or something. Like yeah, it was difficult, but it can’t be that big a deal right?

Then Kurama speaks up. “Danny, I don’t think you understand. There are two ways to crown a king of the Ghost Zone: either the ghost zone itself must choose someone, or the current ghost king must be defeated in battle. You defeated Pariah Dark in battle. Meaning....”

Everyone goes silent for a moment, processing.

Then several things happen at once. Danny, who at this point still hasn’t fully processed that oh yeah, I defeated one of the most powerful ghosts in existence, freaks the hell out because I barely have time to protect one (1) town, how am I going to rule an entire dimension? Kuwabara is flipping his shit again, Hiei is contemplating, and Yusuke.... Yusuke decides screw it, I’m having an apprentice now, and after calming Danny down, he offers to help train him up a bit (Somewhere in spirit world, Genkai starts quietly laughing).

Danny agrees after a moment of deliberation. Yusuke hangs out in Amity for a bit to help Danny. His first interaction with Sam and Tucker is.... interesting. Yusuke snuck up on Sam and Tucker, and Sam promptly punched him in the face and almost broke his nose. But after a bit they start to warm up to him, and eventually Yusuke starts teaching Sam some hand to hand along with Danny.

Vlad makes one appearance while Yusuke is there. He sensed some sort of foreign presence in Amity and wanted to see if he could exploit it, only for Yusuke I-haven’t-slept-in-a-week-and-I-refuse-to-start-now Urameshi to wipe the floor with him. When he asks Danny who the new ghost is, he is surprised to learn that no, Danny is not the only half-ghost in existence, and also that guy is a famous millionaire and also knows my secret identity so maybe let’s not break into his mansion to fight him please? (Yusuke agrees not to after a very lengthy argument. Still, the whole situation reminds him a little too much of Toguro and the Dark tournament, and he quietly asks Koenma to open an investigation into this Vlad Plasmius guy.)

Yusuke’s introduction to Danny’s parents goes... surprisingly well, actually. Aside from one small incident where one of the Fenton ghost detectors lock on to Yusuke’s signature, everything goes fairly well. Jack and Maddie take a shine to him almost immediately, when they see him curb stomp Skulker with a practiced ease that only a professional should have, and within the week Yusuke is an honorary member of the Fenton family.  

There’s a lot more, but this post is waaaay too long as it is. Feel free to add on!

#Danny Phantom #yu yu hakusho #yusuke urameshi #danny fenton #Danny phantom crossover #Seriously tho why has no one done this one yet? #It would be so interesting #ESPECIALLY if Yusuke is older here #The dynamic between Yusuke and Danny would be so damn fun #I imagine it's similar to Genkai and Yusuke's relationship #Speaking of Genkai #The MOMENT she finds out that yusuke is training someone #She busts her way out of spirit world so she can find out who it is #she wants to know who her grandkid is teaching dammit! #she takes one look at Danny and is just like #Looks like I'm adopting yet another snarky half dead fourteen year-old #Also Danny can totally see her #and it throws her for one hell of a loop #Danny floats up to her and is like yo what's up? #and Genkai's chill abt it on the outside #on the inside tho #she's like #*surprised pikachu face* #Hiei #Kurama #yyh kuwabara #koenma #i will pay whoever writes this 50 dollars #jk i don't have any money #but like