#and the fact that they nodded at her power in the comics when they did the probability thing in endgame but still gave her some tired ass

[ozzgin]

I love your reader insert stuff!! The yandere yazuka series was vvvv entertaining, I wish I had a big scary gangster to scare away my stalker lol

If you are open to requests, how about Idol!Reader x Yandere!Bodyguard. I love the trope so much, and I'm interested and what you'd do with the idea. No worries if you're not interested tho!

Best wishes

-🌟

I just finished writing it and you've got me punching the air with your prompt. It wasn't really my thing but I'm now sold. Thank you for the trope idea. :’)

Yandere!Bodyguard x Idol!Reader (I)

Short scenario featuring your bodyguard that takes his duty a little too seriously. Not that you’d mind…

[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3]

TW: violence

(Cover from the manga “A girl and her guard dog”)

"Fantastic show tonight!"

The older man guides you in and closes the door behind him. You smile warmly and seat yourself on the sofa. He quickly follows, although at a terribly uncomfortable proximity. His legs are pressed against yours and he extends an arm behind you, pretending to stretch. You shuffle awkwardly and lock your hands in your lap. You can already tell where this is going.

"With your talent, I'm confident we could triple the number of attendants. We just need a bigger venue." He nods at you and taps your thigh with his other free hand as encouragement. You notice the wedding band digging into his skin. 

"Alas, let us not waste the evening with business talk. I'm sure a stunning lady like you has better things to do." He laughs at his own compliment and ponders for a minute. "In fact, why don't we have dinner together? I know a great restaurant in the area."

You open your mouth to speak, but are distracted by the sudden, mild pressure on your leg. Somehow, his greasy fingers have wandered further up in the time you listened to his shameless offer. You've been in this career for long enough to guess what such proposals entail. If you say no, best case scenario he presses further, calling you a stuck up bitch and reminding you who has the power in this partnership. Worst case scenario, he leaves the room and the calls and invitations to perform will gradually drop. 

Yet your situation is special, benefitting from an additional possibility. A loophole, if you may.

Should you scream? Oh, he always gets so angry when you act scared. It's an immediate trigger. He really has a soft spot for your glistening, frightened eyes. You glance up one final time at the perverted smirk silently disregarding you. If you are to be honest with yourself, you'd very much enjoy seeing it wiped off forever. Why not? You're feeling particularly mean today.

So without hesitation, you release a high pitched yell of help. The door bursts open and the hinges creak. A tall, toned man walks in, and without a word he lunges at the manager, pulling him by the collar of his cheap dress jacket. You hold your cheeks dramatically, and bat your eyelashes at your bodyguard.

"H-he tried to molest me..." you mumble between sobs.

That's all he needs to proceed. Now the real fun begins. You can hear the muffled screams of protest. The bones crack and the flesh bends under his iron fists. Standing before your bodyguard, they all end up looking like ragdolls. Comically limp and weak, folding and breaking with no resistance. It amuses you greatly.

When did it all begin? You can't remember anymore. You were in your early years and this scary looking stranger entered your little backstage room. His explanation was brief and to the point: as your fame increases, so will the threats to your safety. He was appointed as your bodyguard. You couldn't care less, so you just shrugged. 

You've always been on the playful side. Not necessarily rude, just some innocent tease and banter wherever it's well received. Seeing him so quiet and stoic, you couldn't help but try to push his buttons: changing in front of him and requiring his assistance, occasionally asking him to pick you up and carry you because you could no longer walk. Naturally you would've stopped at the first complaint, but that's the strange part: no reaction ever came. He went along with everything. You assumed it's part of the job. Celebrities aren't known for their good manners, so hiring someone that loses their temper easily would be a fast ticket to termination.

Then you had your first encounter with one of the unpleasant fans you've been warned about. You could only stare in terror at your bodyguard's feral, unhinged reaction. The unfortunate fan's face was so disfigured, you wondered if anyone could ever manage to fix it back into shape. The bodyguard was panting and you could see the sweat coating his face and chest. You were rather confident there were many other ways to deal with it and this wasn't on the recommended list. Thus you felt compelled to ask the million dollar question:

"You act like a jealous spouse. Do you have a crush on me or something?"

You kind of regretted your audacity towards a man that had just nearly killed someone. But his features softened instantly and he turned to you, wiping his forehead and straightening his collar. 

"I suppose so. Is that an issue?"

As you stared ahead, processing his unbothered act, you sensed your cheeks feverishly burning. Uh oh. You hadn't anticipated such a nonchalant confession. You thought back to all the times you stood before him, bare and flirty. Was he merely holding back his urges the entire time? Or was he finally paying you back for all the teasing? Then again, his face didn't betray any hint of humor.

"I've never heard you joke before", you decided to test the waters.

"I'm not. Why would I joke about something like this?" He gazed at you incredulously. 

As somber and honest as ever. Well, that would indeed explain why he'd let you get away with the cheeky behavior. The more you considered it, the more entranced you became with the idea of indulging in such a relationship. As a famous idol, you couldn't be seen dating anyone. One rumor of you having a boyfriend and the agency would've had your ass suspended. But no one said anything about messing around with your bodyguard. He has to be with you all the time, so no one would suspect a thing. And you could definitely expand his list of responsibilities. You'd been terribly stressed lately, after all, and an outlet to release your frustrations would be most welcomed. Your bodyguard would never refuse pleasing his beloved.

You chuckled and pulled him towards your dressing room, giddy with excitement. Something about his imposing presence, like a wild animal that had just escaped from the leash, aroused you to no end. You've had your share of crazy fans, but this was the cherry on top. 

"Should we leave?"

You're jolted out of your daydreams by his low, rough voice. Ah, you missed the grand finale. Too bad. The bodyguard approaches you, with the shirt wrinkled and the top buttons popped open under the shuffle of his vicious attack. You can feel the knot forming in your stomach.

"Not yet. You know how I get when you act like this..." You pout and look away. "You need to take care of me first."

He grins at your last statement.

"Of course. Is the sofa okay?"

You nod.

"Then let's get you undressed, miss."

Is this what they call a scary dog privilege? 

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere x darling #female reader #yandere bodyguard #yandere imagine #yandere imagines #yandere scenarios #male yandere x reader #yandere original character

[deadsetobsessions]

Her name is Drake, Tim Drake.

Except, unlike Bond, James Bond, she’s not a badass who saves queens and get the girls at the end. Well, no, she did get the very amazing woman at the end, and she had the ring to prove it. But not right now. No, right now, she’s a tiny little girl in the middle of a mental breakdown as her parents cart her away from the bodies of the flying Graysons and their wailing son.

See, Tim Drake wasn’t supposed be a girl. Tim Drake wasn’t supposed to be Theodora Janet Drake, shortened to Timmy because her air headed jackass of a father forgot her name once.

Tim Drake wasn’t supposed to be a woman shoved into a body that wasn’t hers.

By the time Timmy got out her catatonic state of existential crisis, her parental units (faulty parental units) had already left to a dig site a world away. The nanny they’d hired for the three year old had left the slip of a girl in her room, content to just make edible toddler food and spend the day casually checking in on her. The nanny had no concept of stealth, so at least Timmy could hear her thundering footsteps long before she got to Timmy’s room.

She would have been sad, had she not had a full set of memories of a well adjusted adult. In fact, all she felt was relief.

As weird as being comic book character is, Timmy supposed that she should be glad she wasn’t like the original. The dysphoria was already significant, in this tiny body, so pale and white, unlike her calloused and tanned skin she’d come to love. If she was in Tim Drake’s male body…

No, Timmy knew when to count her blessings.

Not that being beholden to Gotham was much of a blessing. Timmy could tell already that whatever had brought her here was going to make sure she stayed. How did she know?

There’s a gamer’s interface hovering on the right of her vision, blaring [WELCOME TO GOTHAM, PLAYER 1!] in annoyingly large white letters.

Timmy sighed and gave in. She tapped the ‘start’ button and the world greyed to a stop.

[ACHIEVEMENT- SO I’M IN ANOTHER UNIVERSE- MET!]

Underneath it, to Timmy’s tired mind, laid the damning and probably helpful:

[TUTORIAL UNLOCKED!]

Timmy tapped the screen again.

[Welcome to Gotham!] The informational screen started. [By now, you’ve realized that you’ve been reincarnated into the lovely and not at all depressing world of Batman!]

Timmy muttered, “Just Batman? Not DC?” She blinked as the informational screen paused its typing before replying to her.

[Right now, you’ve only got the Gotham mode unlocked. Work hard and you can unlock the rest of the world! Maybe even the universe!]

Huh. An interactive interface. Timmy wonders why she’s so calm about this.

[That will all be explained shortly! Please allow for the tutorial to continue and make sure to save your questions for the end!]

Well, Timmy doesn’t want to be rude. She nodded. Interestingly, the interface picked up on both her thoughts and her movements.

[Welcome to Gotham!] It starts again, and Timmy felt a bit of guilt in making it start over. It’s like getting cold called and the caller is just a tired person trying to make their quota for minimum wage and instead of patiently listening to the spiel, Timmy had interrupted so now they had to restart the rehearsed speech. Oof.

[You’ve been reincarnated into the body of our very own Red Robin, Timothy Drake! How exciting! The powers that be, was, and will be has selected your lucky soul to be a beta tester for their relatively new reincarnation roulette!]

See, none of that sounds particularly… “good” for Timmy. Timmy hums as she settled back on the greyed out floor, eyes fixed onto the screen.

[As such, to be the first player deposited in this universe-]

And oh, doesn’t that have some interesting implications.

[The powers that be have decided to grant you a boon! The Gamer’s Exclusive Ultra Package!]

The interface exploded with holographic confetti.

Timmy thought her wife would have loved this… had she not died months before Timmy did.

[Included is the exclusive Gamer’s Mind and Body passive status! You won’t be as traumatized by traumatizing things! A boon, in the hellscape that is Gotham!]

Timmy’s calling it. Whoever wrote this was a total troll. And had a sense of humor she could appreciate. That explained why she’s so… not freaking out about this entire thing.

[It also includes ten lucky draw tickets, with guaranteed five star skills/abilities per ticket! Wow! It’s almost worth getting killed and isekai’ed!]

Timmy snorted and tapped accept.

[And two revival tickets! These can bring any Schmuck dumb enough to get killed, right back to life, with zero drawbacks! To be used on anyone you wish, post tutorial.]

Timmy tilted her head. Useful. She tapped accept.

[Now, you might wonder: ah, why would the de oh so awesome and all powerful gods make me reincarnate here instead of allowing me to enjoy my afterlife with my beautiful wife?]

Timmy stilled, heart in her throat. That’s right… why?

The screen turned red. Ominously, smoke starts to steam out from the side.

[You’ve got blood on your hands, Timmy. That’s hard to wash away.]

The screen blinked back to its neutral blueish-white color.

[That, and it’s because the Powers that be made an oopsie and messed up this world so bad, we needed a soul from a different universe to replace Tim Drake’s. He kept dying! Which meant Batman kept dying! Which meant the entire universe went to shit! But we can’t just cut it off, it’s a main Universe! But nooo, does anyone listen to the admins? Noooo. Of course not! What does the literal administrator know in the face of an all powerful god-!]

Timmy blinked, sympathy welling for this person. This administrator. That sounded rough.

[Ahem. My apologies.] The admin apologized, somehow conveying sheepishness through a screen. Timmy got a notification.

[ACHIEVEMENT- COMMISERATING WITH A CO-WORKER- MET!]

[1,000 Shop Points Granted. Message: You’ve worked under tyrannical bosses too! Kindred Soul!]

“Yeah, it be like that. I’m sorry you had to clean up their messes.” Timmy said.

[I, too, am sorry you were dragged from your afterlife for it.]

The two overworked employees shared a solemn moment.

[Well, then! This brings us to your goal! Keep Batman from killing himself, and fulfill Timothy Drake’s Destiny!]

“And what is his destiny, exactly?”

[To keep Batman from dying, becoming a crime-fighter, get beat up by Jason Todd, and destroy Ra’s al Ghul’s work with explosions!]

“That’s… really specific. I just have to fulfill those?”

[Yes! Not in any particular order, of course. And in any way you see fit!]

That last part was italicized, like the admin knew what was brewing in Timmy’s brain. They probably did.

[And now, please direct your attention to the screen to the right. ]

Four boxes popped up.

SHOP

LUCKY DRAW

QUESTS

PROFILE

[Underneath “Quest” is all of your current objectives! For now, the Tutorial is selected and can not be put on hold!]

Timmy obligingly tapped “QUEST.”

Main Quest: Get Your Shit Together, Batman!

Main Quest: Jason Todd and His “E is rated for Everyone” Hands!

Main Quest: No Crime Under My Watch!

Main Quest: Play Bomberman With A Bunch Of Ninja Assassins Led By A Borderline Immortal Cult Leader!

Main Quest: Tutorial!

Side Quest: Level Up!

Side Quest: Learn a Skill!

Side Quest: Nanny Bye-Bye!

And so on, and so on.

“Woah. Nanny Nye-Bye?” Timmy tapped, clicking away at the reminder that Tutorial could not be paused.

[Side Quest: Nanny Bye-Bye.]

[Your nanny has been embezzling the allowance your parents gave her to feed you! Since your bourgeoisie parents have no sense of how much things should actually cost to eat, you’re stuck eating boxed food and unhealthy things while your nanny goes out for hotpot every other week! The injustice! Get her fired before the month ends!]

[Rewards: 1000 EXP. An approving nod from the scary Draconic Janet Drake. $800 per month.]

[Failure: -2 (permanent) to Health. Your status will be [Malnourished] until 17 years old. A disproving glance from the scary Draconic Janet Drake.]

…

“What the ****?”

[Language filters are unlocked at level five.]

Timmy grumbled.

“What if I need to curse to complete my missions?” She asked.

[Then Player One needs to buy herself a sense of creativity.]

Timmy scowled but moved on. She perused the shop, window shopping as one might say, while asking the Admin some more questions.

“Does the Keep Batman Alive quest have a time limit?”

[Until Damian Wayne has had at least four years of being Robin.]

Timmy nodded, brain whirring with plans.

“Hey, admin?”

[Yes, Player One?]

“If I’m player one, does that mean there will be other players?”

[Yes, Player One. There will be more! But unlike you, their abilities will be based on your feedback of the reincarnation system. Not to mention, they will not be reborn as a predetermined Main Character like yourself. This is because your existence was a result of a cosmic oopsie that had better never happen again or I’m going to rip their star-riddled hides from their cosmic bodies. Does that answer your question, Player One?]

Timmy leaned away from the screen. Intimidating.

“Yep. Thanks.”

[Anytime. Would you like to play the Lucky Draw?]

“Yes, please.”

The Luck Draw Menu was pulled up again. Timmy looked at the amount of tickets she had and shrugged. She tapped the “DRAW ONE” option.

The gacha machine spun and spun until:

[DING! DING! DING! Congratulations! You got a five star skill! Eloquence Beyond Measure!]

Timmy checked it out.

Eloquence Beyond Measure!

[As expected of a true Bristol elite (and not one of those snotty snobs of children running afoot with their parent’s money), you’ve gained the ability to spit fire and ice out of your mouth! What you want to say will always come out of your in a way that benefits you most! Diplomats kneel to your eloquence! Socialites dare not provoke you in fear of your barbed words! You’ll never sound like you don’t know what you’re doing ever again!]

Huh. Timmy grinned.

“Thanks, Administrator. Is the tutorial done? I just had an idea about that Nanny Side-Quest.”

[The last task is to check your profile, Player One.]

“Thanks. You can call me Timmy, you know? We’re in this together now.” Timmy grimaced. She just wanted to rest. Chances are, so did Admin.

[Timmy, then.]

Timmy tapped PROFILE.

Theodora “Timmy” Janet Drake

Level 1 (EXP to Next Level: 500)

Status: Healthy. Alive. Uninjured.

SKILLS: Eloquence Beyond Measure

[STATS]

Timmy sighed and exited out of the window to finish the tutorial. She could peruse the stats later. She’s kind of hungry.

[Now that you’ve finished the basics, the powers that be encourages you to try your best to live out this life and fulfill your destiny! The Prize at the completion of Tim Drake’s destiny will be a reunion! With your beloved wife! Work hard, and she’ll be placed on this earth once more!]

Timmy sat up, throat burning. She could see her wife again? To tell her how she missed her and how much she loved her?

Timmy’s heart burned once more since the death of her wife.

Determination filled her now small body. She’ll wrangle the Bats to therapy kicking and screaming if that’s what it took to meet her beloved wife again.

[CONGRATULATIONS! YOU’VE FINISHED THE TUTORIAL! LEVEL UP! (1000 EXP TO LEVEL THREE)]

[REWARD: A PHONE! 100 SHOP POINTS!]

Timmy dialed the first contact she saw in the phone.

“Hello, this is Theodora Drake. Might I speak to my mother?” Her three year old voice smoothed out, suddenly eloquent and powerful in a way it simply wasn’t before. Eloquence Beyond Measure was proving useful already.

“Yes, of- of course, Miss Drake. Please hold.”

She waited.

“Theodora. What is it, daughter? You know better than to interrupt our digs.”

“Mother, it has come to my attention that my nanny is embezzling money from you. I have been eating boxed mac n’ cheese and only that for the past three days. They cost four dollars each. I would hate for my growth to be stunted.”

Two days later, Janet Drake and Jack Drake stormed into the mansion and threw out the nanny. Janet gives her an approving nod at her sudden eloquence (wow, these people had no idea what children were supposed to be like) and gave her a credit card to use freely.

Rich people. Honestly.

Timmy’s sly gaze was highlighted by the invisible glow of the congratulations banner.

#timothy drake #scheming tim drake #tim drake #reincarnation #reincarnated as Timothy drake #female tim drake #Timmy drake #Batman #gamer fic #the admin is cursing out their bosses #Timmy Drake and her ‘you should have specified’ mind set #Timmy Drake risking it all for the sapphic love of her life

[youaremyhome]

Pieces of the Night: Supernova

Warnings: Dark!Rafe Cameron x Reader, 18+ NSFW, smut, HEAVY non-con/dub-con, drug use, possessive behavior, blackmail, manipulation, DARK. More to add. Read at your own risk.

Notes: 3.4k words. This might have a few typos in it and ill come back later to fix it but I'm just so excited to post this bc it might be my fav chapter so far!!!

Taglist: @belcalis9503 @ACRAZYBIOTCH374 @fangirlwithlou @malfoytargaryen @RAFECAMERONSBADUSSY @takin-care-of-business @watersquirtpewpewboomm @jpmswife

Let me know if you wanna be added to the taglist! (and I'm sorry if i missed anyone that's asked already!)

You sit across Rafe in a diner booth. The menu is planted in front of your face to avoid his, eyes roving across the plastic pages meaninglessly. After your crying fit, he rubbed your tears away and led your speechless form out of the courtyard.  

Now, you were hunched in a cracked leather booth with mascara smudged and eyes puffy.

Originally, you had expected Rafe to take you somewhere unnecessarily nice and expensive. He seemed like the type to flaunt his father’s wealth for praise from others. Maybe he didn’t want to be seen with you. Which suited you just fine because you did not want to be seen with him.

“So, where were you?”

Peeking over the top of the long menu, he’s leaned back, all lazy confidence and smug.

“Where was I for what?” You ask loftily.

“Don’t be cute.” Rafe knocks his knuckles on the table absently, gaze right on you. “Where were you Friday?”

“Oh, the day you demanded I go on a date with you?” Innocently you raise your eyebrows like you just remembered. “I went to the movies with friends.”

Shrugging, you go back to the menu. Heart beginning to pick up pace with anxiety at his reaction to your admission of standing him up. That night, you had asked your roommates for a dinner and movie date, dragging it out as long as possible.

Tension rolls in like fog, condensing on top of your shoulders, his anger a tangible thing and you’re left to wonder what your punishment will be this time. Because while part of this whole thing is a fucked-up power play of blackmail, it’s also equally a punishment for your stunt. An inkling of the lengths Rafe would go to just to get what he wants.

“I was running around this fucking town just for you to be at the movies?”

“Coffee?”

Rafe is interrupted by the young waitress, her polite smile dissolving into a panicky look when he directs his glare at her.

“I’d love some.” Tilting your head up and smiling sweetly, you push the empty mug closer to her.

An awkward beat of silence blankets the air before she’s pouring the hot liquid into your mug and then scurries away. With your lips still curled up from the smell of coffee, it instantly drops when you meet cold blue eyes. Rafe’s jaw ticks and an unreadable emotion crosses his face when his eyes dip down to your now frowning mouth.

You don't have anything else to say to him, so you let the silence stretch. Now that you’re in a public place, you’re more comfortable meeting his gaze head-on, mind cleared from your emotional episode.

“You’re not at all like how I thought you’d be.” Rafe finally says, but he doesn’t sound disappointed about the fact either.

You nod. “Yeah, that generally happens when you make assumptions about people without getting to know them.”

You pour cream and heaps of sugar into the mug, his eyes tracking across your movements.

“Then,” Rafe places his elbows on the table, leaning forward. Eyes intent solely on you. “Let me know you.”

“Pfft.” You blow out. “After all that shit you’ve pulled? No way.” It’s comical to think it would be that easy. To forget the things he’s said and done when he’s still a stranger to you.

“Wasn’t really asking.” Rafe waves his hand.

“See you can’t just say things like that.” You give him an incredulous look, like he should know better.  

He’s quick to ask, “Why not?”

“Because it's disgusting –”

“Wanting to know you is disgusting?” Rafe scoffs. Shaking his head about to argue back but you beat him to the punch.  

“It's the way you go about it –”

“Would you rather have me beg?” Rafe rumbles, voice gravely and low. “Cause I’ll do it. Get right on my knees for you and beg for every crumb of information you’ll give me.”

That stuns you. Warmth blossoms up between your legs all the way up to your cheeks, hating your body for such a reaction. Looking away, you nervously pick at the leather cushion as you await Rafe’s mocking. It never comes through, his imagination taking over while you sit there all embarrassed and cute. Wondering how loud you’d be with his tongue so deep inside you –

“Y’all ready to order?” The waitress asks out of nowhere, popping Rafe’s little daydream bubble.

You order french toast with bacon and sausage while he gets the cheeseburger, handing the menus back to her as she runs away again. If only you could do that.

“So, you a big breakfast person?” Rafe casually asks, ruining your fantasy of hightailing it out of there.

You are, but you aren’t going to be telling him that. He doesn’t deserve to know an iota about you. All the little things that build you as a person will stay hidden in a vault away from him.

Shrugging, you continue to pick at the leather, exposing more of the soft spongy texture of the filling of the seat. Though you know that you’re stuck here with him, it doesn’t mean you’ll make it easy.

“C’mon, give me something, something.” He drones out. “This is supposed to be a date remember?” His voice is coaxing but a glance up at his face reveals his sneer.

“Do you always blackmail your dates?” You remark, arching your eyebrow at him.

“Just you.” Rafe grins.

“I must be so special.” Rolling your eyes, you send him an obnoxiously fake smile.

“You are.”

His tone turns serious, and you glare back down to the seat. Blue eyes chase your gaze, trying to keep a hold of you.  

He really does need to stop saying that kind of seemingly genuine shit because some tiny part of you lights up like a Christmas tree. And just as quickly as the idea sweeps through, you squash it like a bug. It’s only because no one has ever shown you this kind of passion before and your lizard brain is lapping it up. Thirsty from the barren wasteland of your love life.

The fear is still there, your skin tight from the dried tears but you remind yourself that Rafe is only a college boy. Barely a man. You just need time to figure a way out of this situation.

Eventually, the food arrives but it’s difficult to swallow anything down. With him directly in front of you, Rafe has a front seat of every passing emotion on your face. From the delighted hum of the first bite to how your jaw moves as you chew. You’ve never felt so exposed, so aware of yourself with every movement you make.

You take subtle stock of him as well. How the big burger looks small in his hands, the surprising decorum of his eating, unlike other males. Wordlessly, he hands you a french fry and in exchange, you hand him a strip of bacon. You reason that it's better than talking to him.

Throughout the meal, you start exchanging more pieces of food back and forth. A silent communication that has you slowly but surely relaxing in his presence. There’re moments where it looks like he wants to say something, decides against it and hands you another fry. The quiet is nice, allowing your mind peace from today's events. Allows you to forget who you’re with for bits at a time.

Once your belly is full and the bill is paid, uneasiness creeps back onto your skin like spiders. It’s the longest you’ve gone without talking to him, but Rafe looks content with the quiet too, something you weren’t counting on. You’ve come to realize through your previous interactions that he rambles a bit often, and you’re not sure what to make of this.

Rafe leads the way out of the diner, holding the door open for you, keeping his hands to himself as you walk down the sidewalk. It’s a stark constant to when you first arrived here: with his hand on your back, and threats of being good whispered in your ear. Maybe is he able to –

“What are you doing?” You squeak, unexpectedly being herded down an alleyway. A hand wrapping around your bicep to lure you in deeper.

Rafe says nothing when he shoves your back against the brick wall, blue eyes a thunderstorm of chaos before he’s stealing your breath from your lips. He cranes your neck up with both hands, devouring your lips and then your tongue. The force of it is too great, gasping into it only to be able to breathe better making you inhale the taste of him.

A wet smacking pop sounds when Rafe pulls away, pearly teeth biting his pink lips fill your vision before you’re staring at the other end of the alley.

“Told you I’d get on my knees f’you.”

Rafe Cameron settles on his knees in front of you and all you can do is gape back, dumbfounded. Dirty blond fringes kiss his eyelashes, mirroring your open mouth as his tongue swipes at his bottom teeth. His hands slide up from your knees to your thighs painstakingly slow, gentle as a boyish smile grows.  

“Rafe – not here…please.” Your voice can’t seem to go above a whisper, heart rate doubling in a second.

He ignores you and it’s becoming an obvious trait for him. His knees dig into the gravel uncomfortably but with the warm scent of you being so close, he can’t think of anything else.

Without permeable, he’s burying his face in the soft cotton of your leggings at your crotch, crudely inhaling and licking a stripe up your covered mound. He moans and swears he can almost taste you through the fabric, tongue dampening it as he teases you. Hands groping at your thighs up to your ass, flattening his tongue to cover every inch he can.

With layers between his tongue and your pussy it shouldn’t feel as good as it does. Wiggling his tongue around slowly, like the push and pull of the ocean. The muted feeling of his hot tongue seeping through the material makes a whine crack out of your chest. Again, you protest while your hands flutter down to pat his head, eyes darting around the empty space. A pierce of anxiety hits you and blends with the thrill that is building up between your legs. A familiar unwanted buzz you’ve come to dread and anticipate.   

Your mouth opens again for a protest, but Rafe interrupts, staring up at you with full dark lashes and panting.

“What’s your favorite color?”

The question is so far left field, you don’t understand him until he repeats himself, swiping kisses around your hips as he awaits your answer.

When you do, he pulls on your waistband, tugging your leggings down until they hit midthigh, uncovering and restricting you all at once. Threading your fingers in his blond locks you tug, hoping to pull him upright, to stop this – whatever is happening.

A heavy groan vibrates along your mound and burns down to your clit. Rafe is quick in pressing his face right up to your cunt and kissing it. Like a man starved, his fingers pull at your thong to the side as his tongue slips through your folds, taking one, two moments of exploring and then finding your clit. The tip of his tongue, flicking and prodding as he switches from caresses to sucking.

“Favorite book?”

Your body feels heavy like gravity is pushing you down while your head is floating away from you. Answering his questions scrambles your brain more as he continues his assault of pleasure. His hands encompass your hips, supporting the roll of them along his mouth. Grating your hips up again, the strong bridge of his nose slides and press on your clit as his tongue breaches you for the first time.

It’s a damn struggle to keep your voice down, for your moans not to echo off the brick walls of this deserted alley. Rafe moves his head side to side, working his tongue further into you only making it harder to be quiet. You’ve never fallen into the haze so easily before, any thoughts of your hatred for him shutting off completely. He’s in complete control even in this position, demanding your pleasure and bits of yourself.  

Clenching on his tongue is a different type of sensation you’ve never felt before, soft but hard enough to feel it. Hot and wet with plenty of friction as his nose bullies your clit. You whine in disappointment whenever he pulls it out, asking you meaningless questions. Dragging out this tortured pleasurable hell of yours. Edging you into a lust-induced daze, body preparing for that ultimate high.   

Fingers knead at the fat of your ass and in the back of your mind you’d wish he would slip a couple of those long fingers in you. Your thighs start to twitch as you get closer, pulling his hair harsher causing his attack to increase with vigor. His teeth graze the sensitive flesh of the hood of your clit and you’re squealing with no inhibitions.

“What’s something you’re scared of?”

It’s the first question with real significance behind it. And although you’ve told yourself earlier to lock those pieces of you away, it all comes tumbling out like the spilling of glass. You answer with no hesitation, just honesty.

“You!”

Rafe loses all control he thought he had. He sucks your clit into his mouth, tongue sliding back and forth as the suction deepens. The pressure of his lips is like a vacuum as he works you into a frenzy. He growls back into you, responding to the soft pitiful whimpers you make. Squeezing your ass as he presses his face deeper, your slick covering his chin and dripping down his throat. The front of his teeth grinds at the top of your slit, hips jolting with the strike of lightening of your orgasm, a hoarse cry that you have to bite off.

Hiccups break between your erratic breathing, the rush of your high lasting longer than ever before as Rafe keeps his mouth right there, right in the same spot that’s making you see white specks of stars.

His tongue softens, flat and drinking as much of you as he can. The combination of spit and cum makes everything slippery, soft lips kissing down your slit to your pulsing hole and back up again.

Finally, thinking you might just have to live in this never ever dying bliss with Rafe between your thighs forever, he stands up.  

“So good f’me,” Rafe mumbles. One hand pets your hair while the other reaches down, you think he’ll pull your pants up for you.

Instead, Rafe is undoing his own, taking his rock-hard cock out and you’re shaking your head no before he can do anything.

“Uh-uh, hush.” He chuckles. “Not gonna fuck you…” You watch as he pulls on his cock, tugging with a moan. “Gonna cum with just the taste of you on my tongue.”

You can’t tear your eyes away as he pleasures himself in front of you, the weeping tip brushing along the top of your thong, your forehead resting on his shoulder as you watch. The rough whine of your own name makes ruminates of your high bleed back in, hips thrusting closer to him of their own fruition.

His stroking speeds up as he cums all over you, only stopping once there’s nothing else to wring out. It’s the first time you’ve really gotten a good look at him down there, thick and heavy with an angry red mushroom head. It’s always the assholes that have the best dicks.

Heavy pants begin to synchronize together, both of you staring down at the mess on you. You blink heavily, resting them closed and it's then you get a flash of another time you were covered by him.

Look like an angel with all that white on you.

His words echo in your head, giving you the willpower and common sense to pull away from him. Rafe stumbles back a bit from your shove, your fingers fumbling with your waistband as you quickly pull it up.

“Woah hey, it’s ok. Relax.” Rafe attempts to pacify you, seeing the thoughts whirl behind your eyes. He rights himself up, towering over you as his hands soothe down your arms.

You wiggle uncomfortably, the touch of him scratching at you. “It's not ok! You can’t keep doing this to me!”

Rafe sputters. “What, g-giving you so many orgasms that, that you can’t keep your eyes open?” His grip tightens, bending lower to get in your face. “You sure know how to keep your legs open!”

Your gasp is like the sound of a shotgun firing, silencing the air around you. Rafe’s face softens, loosening his hold as one hand scrubs down his face in regret.

“Look, I didn’t mean that –”

“Yes, you did.” You say strongly.

“Nah, I didn’t.” Rafe points a finger at you, shaking it in your face. “You’re just pissing me off right after we had a great time together.”

You know you can’t fight him physically and now with his blackmail, you don’t know if you can fight him off mentally either. It’s exhausting going from fear to ecstasy to anger, all in a loop every time with him. Maybe you did ruin what could’ve been a nice moment between the two of you, but hasn’t he already ruined the foundation? How could he ever think you can get past what he’s done to you.

He's delusional, is what he is. Speaking to him rationally doesn’t work and each time you fight him, the more extreme he becomes. So, maybe it was time to choose a different route. One that can either break him or break you.  

“You’re…right.” The words are bitter on your tongue, lying straight through your teeth. “I’m sorry.”

Rafe’s surprise is easy to read on his face, an open book you know you’ll have to use to your advantage. An arm slings low around your waist, pulling your bodies tightly together as his other hand cups the back of your neck. Leaning down to press his lips to yours, the kiss is a slow burn of rekindling desire for him and a reluctant duty for you.

You can taste yourself on his lips, your cum slicking up the movement of your mouths. Giving into it is easier than you’d like it to be, the salty tang shared as he swipes his tongue in your mouth. Licking his way against yours, the clench of your thighs is involuntary.  

Pulling back, long fingers slide up to your face, his thumb tapping at the corner of your mouth. Rafe’s gaze zeroed in on your swollen lips.

“Smile for me, angel.”

It might seem like a request, but you know it’s a thinly veiled command. Straining your muscles to trick your lips back into a smile, demurely looking up at him in hopes to end this date already. The tip of his thumb hooks at your smile line, forcibly stretching your lips. He says your name like a curse.

“Pretty little smile makes my dick hard.”

Bruising one more kiss to you, Rafe takes your hand and leads you out the alley. You don’t know where’re going but you don’t question it either. Conscious of the fact you must choose your battles wisely from now on.

Rafe sticks to the subject of you. Asking about your classes, assignments, and various mundane things. You answer as vague as possible, upset with yourself for succumbing to his earlier interrogation.

Walking south of the campus, you don’t recognize much but just an odd sense of familiarity. You don’t often make your way to this side of the town, all the bars, and campus buildings further north. The trees shake their limbs in the winter breeze creating an eerie warning.

“Where’re we going?”

Opting for casual, your voice betrays your nerves. Rafe squeezes your hand and pulls, eliminating the gap you’ve made during the walk.

“Figured we can keep our date going.” Rafe pivots, heading into a building. “Don’t worry, you’ve been here before.”

With dawning horror, you know exactly where you are. The place that started this whole mess. Somewhere you’ve never expected to be again.

You’re back at Rafe’s apartment.  

#pieces of the night #dark fics #dark!rafe cameron #rafe cameron #outer banks #rafe cameron x reader #rafe obx #obx #obx fic #fanfiction #smut #rafe cameron smut #outer banks smut #rafe cameron x you

[ereawrites]

Book Club (Kakashi Hatake)

Prologue - The Ambush

Kakashi sure as hell isn't going to flirt. Good thing you've got sleep-deprived courage (and Gai) at your back.

cw: alcohol use

word count 1.9k (chapter 1/9)

read it on ao3 here

"Maa, Asuma, did you forget to invite Kakashi again?", you scold, scanning the room for a flicker of silver hair even though you know you won't find it. All you see is Genma at the bar, buying a drink for a woman you're pretty sure is different to the one he was flirting with fifteen minutes ago.

"No. He just didn't want to come.", Asuma states this in a tone that suggests a lack of surprise, even as Gai slumps in his seat with disappointment. Kakashi has never been much for getting together with your old academy class, even when alcohol is involved. Asuma shoots you a sideways glance over his drink. "Although I'm sure that would have changed if I'd told him you'd be here."

"Huh?"

"Come on-", he takes another sip of sake and scoffs, not unkindly. "You've noticed how strange he acts around you."

You also take a swig of your drink, intrigued but not quite sober enough to really think about his words. "It's Kakashi. Isn't he strange all the time?"

Asuma laughs loudly - Kurenai looks at him from all the way across the room, you notice, you'll have to corner her in the bathroom later on - and claps a hand onto your shoulder. "Alright, I won't spoil it for you." He's smiling at you like the cat that's got the cream. You don't like it one bit.

"Asumaaaaaaa, don't be like that!", you complain, shrugging his hand off your shoulder and trying to fix him with a stern glare. When he returns it, you crumble - you're glad you didn't have him as a sensei back in your genin days. Besides, Asuma is too loyal to Kakashi, and not much for gossip. But-

"Gai! You know what he's talking about, don't you?!". You point an accusatory finger across the table at Gai, who has already won three separate drinking contests and has the flush to prove it. It's comical how hard he tries to avoid your gaze.

One more drinking contest later, he's yours. Asuma sighs as Gai begins his usual speech.

"My eternal rival Kakashi feels very strongly about me! Our rivalry is intensely passionate, in fact, it is unmatched! But, because our hearts are so inexplicably connected-", Gai lurches to his feet here, eyes shining with tears, "-I can sense that Kakashi feels almost as passionately about you!"

Huh? That can't be right, can it? You take a deep drink and barely even wince; then you look at Asuma, who surely can put the story straight. It's probably more like you've accidentally offended Kakashi, and inadvertently sucked yourself into a weird eternal-rival-threeway. Maybe one of his ninken likes you more than him. Yes, that'll be it. Pakkun was particularly taken with you that time you had to swing by Kakashi's apartment to deliver a message.   Asuma looks somewhat defeated, but also a little pleased. "Oh, yeah. He's got it bad for you. Remember how he disappeared from your birthday party?" You'd assumed Kakashi had just got bored and went home to nap. He'd barely even said hello to you that night. "Genma got him pretty drunk and we managed to get it out of him. Then I got him more drunk, and he fell out the chair when he tried to get up and wish you a happy birthday."

"And I carried him home in my arms.", Gai sniffles, clasping your hand tightly. "And he opened his soul to me and cried freely from the power of his love!"

"No he didn't.", you deadpan.

"No-", he concedes. "But I know he wanted to!"

This is not how you expected the evening to go. Part of you doesn't quite believe them - then again, Asuma isn't the type to stir the pot and he knows Kakashi well - and you've heard enough of Gai's power of love speeches to know how serious he is about the topic. Thank God Kakashi isn't here tonight, or you might combust.

"He's going to bolt if I tell him I like him, isn't he?" Both of your friends nod gravely. One thing you remember very well from the academy is that Kakashi loves to brood: you need to let him stew in his feelings until he can't ignore them anymore, or you'll just scare him off. It only takes you and Gai two more drinks to come up with a brilliant idea - why not give him a little push in the right direction?

~

Ah. There he is.

He's running late - again - to meet Gai. You're not sure why Gai doesn't just start scheduling their weekly training sessions for the afternoon, instead of an ungodly time in the morning. You don't remember ever seeing Kakashi out before noon of his own volition. Then again, you don't remember Kakashi being on time for anything either. You briefly imagine Gai trying to fit in 1000 pushups before his eternal rival arrives at the training ground. 

Oh, well. He's already late. Might as well commit to it.

Clearly, Kakashi is unbothered by the thought of neglecting his poor, dedicated rival. In fact, he isn't even looking where he's walking - and why would he? The wide street down to the yard is always empty at this time, because any sensible shinobi is in bed, asleep, and staying out of trouble. He doesn't notice you perched up on the rooftop of the ramen shop even when he walks right in front of it. You grin a little to yourself: you really are quite good at masking your chakra. You're so confident in your abilities that you even lean over the edge of the roof to get a proper look at the book he's buried his nose in. 

It takes everything in you not to gasp out loud with glee. You'd recognise Jiraiya's preposterous illustrations anywhere.

This makes everything so much easier.

There's a little side alley a short way up, that weaves between shinobi apartments before coming out onto the boulevard right by the weapons store. Kakashi is wandering along at the leisurely pace of a man with nowhere to be, so it isn't much of a rush to reach it, but you're still a little breathless with anticipation. He's chuckling quietly at his book when you dash out the alley, swing a left, and crash square into his chest. Right as you do, you unmask your chakra, allowing it to just brush against his in a faux expression of surprise. He recognises your chakra, you can feel it, how his own energy reflexively gives way to yours. Kakashi doesn't stagger at all and you pretty much bounce right off him, but you do hear the snap of his book closing swiftly.

"Woah! I'm so sorry, I'm in such a rush to-", you exclaim, with what you think is a pretty good attempt at shock, as you right yourself and look him in the eye. "Oh. Hey, Kakashi!"

He blinks, then greets you in return. "You should be more careful. There's no need to be in such a rush all the time."

Your heart flutters a little bit at the implication that he pays such close attention to the chaotic pace you live life at.  If you aren't careful, you're going to be the one leaving this encounter flustered. So you laugh it off, and pretend to readjust your flak jacket. "I do rush, don't I? It's just, I've been up all night pretending to be a particularly noisy owl outside one of my genin's window, and honestly I'm just desperate to go home and sleep."  This is true - Haruki called you old for needing a nap yesterday, the little shit.

Kakashi doesn't even question why you've decided to torture one of your students. "I prefer to make monster noises outside Naruto's door when I'm aiming for sleep deprivation."

The one eye you can see crinkles slightly at the corner when you laugh. Otherwise, he doesn't react, so you decide to store away the image of him growling with his face pressed up against a dingy apartment door for a time when you need cheering up. Instead, you decide to set your plan into action. You're going to lose your nerve if you don't get a move on. 

"Are you going to train with Gai?", you ask, as if you don't already know. Kakashi hums nonchalantly, switches his book to the other hand, and leans his weight against the wall of the store. You inch forward just a little as you continue, "We should get together someday soon too."

Kakashi's eye widens slightly. "Hm - to train, oh -", and you're so glad he has a dirty mind, because the thought of flustering him has your courage building by the second.

Finally, you allow your eyes to flicker down to his Icha Icha novel - he's carrying the discreet cover version, rather than the much more lewd one you've seen in the bookshop underneath your apartment. The plain binding makes it easy to see how well-thumbed the book really is. Flashing him your loveliest smile, you move in for the kill. "Say, Kakashi, what are you reading? It must be quite a book for you to be so engrossed so early in the morning."

It's hard not to almost, almost, feel bad for him as his whole body tenses up. "It's, ah... well... it's...",  Kakashi pauses, clears his throat, and then clears it again. You give him an encouraging mhm as his knuckles turn white against the cover.  "...An action novel." He finishes, his voice strained.

"Well, I've been looking for a new book to read in my downtime. Would you mind if I borrow it once you're finished?", you ask. You're starting to grin a bit too much as you speak, but hopefully you're managing to pass it off as just being happy to talk to him - to be honest, you smile at Kakashi far too much even when you aren't torturing him.

He's starting to slide down the wall just a little as his knees weaken."You want to read it?"

"If that's okay with you. It would be interesting to see what you like," you respond, allowing the pause to drag out just a little longer than necessary,"...to read." He might actually be having a nosebleed under his mask, you think, as he fixes his gaze very intently at the lamppost behind your head. 

"Everything alright, Kakashi?"

Suddenly, he's skirting around you like you're hot coals. He starts to skitter away up the street, one hand rubbing the back of his neck as he mumbles,"Yes. I just realised how late I am to meet Gai, I should go, hate to leave him waiting-"

A gentle hand on his forearm stops him dead in his tracks. "Of course. Well, it was a lovely surprise to see you. Enjoy your training session." You're sure to give the exposed skin there a gentle squeeze before letting go. His chakra chases after you.

"Enjoy your nap.", he replies, staring at you unblinkingly, voice absent. Something tells you Gai will be winning whatever fresh hell he's got planned for this morning - he's probably about 500 pushups deep right now, so you really should get going. Maybe you'll have a nice warm bath and read an action novel of your own. You start down the boulevard in the opposite direction, in much less of a rush than you began, and wave back over your shoulder.

"See you soon, Kakashi. Remember to bring me that book once you're finished!"

You can only see one quarter of his face, but you're pretty sure he's blushing. God, you really do like him. 

#naruto #naruto x reader #kakashi hatake #kakashi #kakashi x reader

[luminnara]

Opposites Attract | Billy Hargrove x Reader

Requests are open! | Commissions are open!

Summary: you’re super nerdy—you’re all about D&D, sci-fi, comics, and everything that people like Billy Hargrove and his new pals make fun of. In fact, they think it would be a great idea to bet on whether or not Billy can make you like him. Lucky for Billy, he’s already got a thing for you…but what if you don’t like him back?

You didn’t know how you ended up being stuck right in front of Billy Hargrove in not one, but two classes senior year, but you hated it.

He was always right there, gaze burning into the back of your skull, boots sometimes kicking the legs of your chair, fingers occasionally yanking on your hair or shirt if he decided he just had to have your attention. You would always turn towards him, looking totally annoyed, to see one of those infuriatingly handsome smirks on his infuriatingly handsome face and find out that he forgot a pencil again or something equally stupid.

When you were lucky, he left you alone after that. He’d manage to sit quietly and you would do everything in your power to ignore him, spending your time doodling in the margins of your notes or dreaming up new scenarios for your campaign. Sometimes, you even managed to forget that he was there.

When you were unlucky, though, Billy made himself a nuisance. He insisted that you acknowledge him every five minutes somehow, whether it be by kicking your chair, accidentally shoving you when he stretched, or leaning so far forward that you could feel his breath on the back of your neck.

Not only did it send a flurry of butterflies through your stomach every time he did it, but it also really, really pissed you off.

“I can’t believe him,” you growled one day as you clutched your books to your chest. “I mean, seriously, who does he think he is? He’s so annoying, and it’s not like he ever actually needs anything or has anything useful to say—Eddie, are you listening to me?”

“Huh? Oh, yeah, totally. Sounds shitty. Hey, did you decide on a class yet? I gotta get this campaign started this week or I’m gonna fuckin’ lose it, man.”

You rolled your eyes and slammed your locker shut. “Elf. Paladin.”

Eddie Munson, one of your only friends, gave you a grin. “And I’m sure you’ll blow us all away with your holy might, toots. Thanks. First session on Wednesday.”

His usual sweet, goofy expression brought a small smile to your face as you walked with him down the hall. “Good. I need a distraction.”

He slung an arm around your shoulders. “And a distraction you shall get, o fair maiden, in the form of the gnarliest, most fucked up—“

“Freak.” Someone grunted as their shoulder slammed into his, sending you both stumbling a few steps.

You shook it off and just kept your attention on Eddie. “More fucked up than the last one?”

“Oh, trust me, it’s gonna be brutal.”

“Better be.” You grinned. “I’m graduating this year. Gotta go out with a bang.”

Down the hall, Billy Hargrove was watching you with a thoughtful expression on his face. You and that weirdo Munson, huh? You looked close. He had his arm around you. You were always hanging around him and his little pack of freak nerds in the cafeteria. But seriously, that guy? You could do way better.

Namely, you could do Billy.

You just never seemed to pick up on his advances, and he was growing frustrated. How the hell was he supposed to get you talk to him if you never did? Was he supposed to use the direct approach, the one that worked on girls like Carol? Or were you way too nerdy for that?

“Hey. Hargrove.” Tommy H elbowed him. “How ‘bout her?”

Billy turned to snarl at him, but when he followed Tommy’s gaze, he saw that he was nodding towards you.

“What about her?” Billy asked.

“Bet you can’t get a date with the nerdiest bitch in town.”

“The hell are you talking about?” Billy scoffed. “I can get a date with anyone.”

“So you’re in?” Tommy grinned. “Get that super dork to crush on you by the end of the week, and I’ll get you a 12 pack.”

“...Alright. Fine.” Billy sneered. “It’s a bet.”

-----

Every so often, you got paid a decent amount of cash to “babysit” a group of kids who really didn’t need a sitter.

As far as you knew, at least. 

Dustin, Mike, Lucas, Will--that kid, who got kidnapped or whatever not too long ago? Yeah, that Will--El, and Max, Billy Hargrove’s younger sister. Stepsister. Whatever. 

Even when you were only hired to keep an eye on one or two of them, you usually ended up hanging out with the whole gang. You got the feeling that they knew that you knew that you didn’t need to be there, but it was easy money, and you’d been babysitting them since they actually needed it, so none of you really minded. And besides, you actually had a lot of the same interests, so all you ever had to do was order pizza and sit around while they argued about movies or told you about their campaign.

“You guys are so good at D&D,” you laughed, pulling your feet up as you sat on the couch.

“Well what about you?” Mike asked eagerly. “What are you playing right now?”

“We haven’t started, but Eddie swears it’ll be brutal.” You snorted. “Hey, don’t you guys start high school next year? Are you gonna join the club?”

“Of course,” Dustin scoffed. “I mean, what else would we do? Sports?”

They all laughed, though you noticed that Lucas’ was more nervous than the others.

“Well good, because even if Eddie somehow manages to graduate, they’re gonna need more players.” You turned your attention to Max and El. “How bout you guys?”

El gave a small shrug. “I’ve never really…played.”

“I’m sure the boys would be glad to teach you,” you said, reaching for a slice of pizza.

She smiled. “I might like that.”

“Yeah. Yeah! We can totally do that!” Mike said enthusiastically. “We just need to write your character—“

Your eyes shifted to Max as she sat there, looking somewhat cross. “What do you think?”

“Look, no offense, but the nerd shit really isn’t my thing.” She said, as nicely as she could manage.

You noticed that her leg was bouncing, something she only did when she was anxious or upset, and you frowned slightly. “You okay?”

“I’m fine!” She snapped. “I mean…yeah. I’m fine.”

“Max…” Dustin groaned.

“What?”

“You did get permission to come over here, right?”

She was quiet for a moment, and you knew that the answer was going to be no.

“Max, are you serious?” Dustin complained. “Is that psycho freak gonna come looking for you?”

“Are you talking about Billy?” You asked.

“Duh! He’s a total dick, and I swear, if I ever have to see him again I’ll—“

The doorbell rang.

It was way too much of a coincidence for you to not believe you were about to see an angry Billy Hargrove ripping the door off its hinges, but as everyone froze and the seconds ticked by, there was nothing. Just a tense silence, broken only by the ringing again.

“Oh man,” you groaned as you stood. “Anybody else wanna be the babysitter for a change and take responsibility? …no? Great…”

You steeled yourself, reaching for the knob and twisting it slowly…and there he was, just as expected, only he was leaning in the doorframe, looking pissed off but not as angry as you’d been bracing for. He exhaled a puff of smoke in your face before giving you a curious look, and you could practically see the wheels turning before he spoke.

“Well, well. Didn’t expect to see you here, sweetheart.”

“Well, here I am.” You cleared your throat. “Can I help you with something?”

He looked past you, eyes shifting towards the kids. You saw anger there, a bright spark of rage flashing across his entire face as he spotted Max. She looked back at him stubbornly, setting her jaw and daring him to say anything, and you got the feeling that this was a normal thing for them. 

“Maxine.” he bit out, voice dangerous and low, “been lookin’ all over for you.”

“Piss off, Billy.” she spat.

He was holding himself back, and it was taking so much effort that he though you should be proud of him, because he was doing it for you. You, who was standing in his way, ever the dutiful babysitter, keeping the lion in its cage even though you had no idea what you were doing. But god, he wished that you did. He wished you knew how much he wanted to be good for you. 

He forced a tight smile onto his face. “Come on. Su--your mom is worried.”

The tone in his voice was serious enough, earnest enough, that Max recognized the urgency in it. She didn’t like Billy, not really, but she knew how rough his dad was with him, and even though he was her shitty stupid stepbrother, the thought of him on the receiving end of Neil Hargrove’s wrath wasn’t a pleasant one. 

“...Right. Yeah.” she cleared her throat, glancing around for her sweater. “I’ll, uh...be right out.”

The others looked at her in confusion and you raised a brow. When you looked back at Billy, you saw that he seemed thoughtful, pensive, almost, but by the time his eyes snapped back to yours, his expression had returned to that devil may care aloofness that he was so good at. 

“Didn’t know you babysat, sweetheart,” he said, relaxing his posture slightly. 

“Oh, yeah...” you smiled sheepishly. “I mean, these guys don’t really need it anymore, but I don’t mind the extra cash. I’m sorry if Max wasn’t supposed to be out, I just sort of assumed she had permission since the party is always together--”

At the word party, he snorted, and you were reminded that Billy Hargrove was, in fact, an asshole and not at all your type of person.

“Nah, Max loves to run off. It’s no big deal.” he said with that gorgeous smile of his, even though he was absolutely downplaying how extremely pissed and stressed he was thanks to his sister. “Besides...she’s in good hands here, I can tell.”

You blinked. Was that...a compliment? Was he capable of those? What the hell? 

“Well…thanks,” you mumbled, trying to ignore the butterflies in your stomach.

“Anytime,” he winked.

And even though it was a weird exchange, a big part of you hoped that you could talk to him again, about more than just “I’m not giving you another pencil” or “quit kicking me.” You were hoping for a real conversation, because you were hoping that there was more to Billy Hargrove than pretty eyes and a bad attitude…

And the next day, your wish came true.

And the day after that.

You suddenly found Billy lingering around every corner, greeting you with that gorgeous smile and asking how you were as if he genuinely wanted to know.

And you told him.

And he listened.

Billy hung on to every word you said like they were his lifeline, paying extra close attention whenever you said you liked something. He noticed everything, more than anybody else would, because he was good at watching people and good at taking in his surroundings, and with you right in front of him, he had plenty to focus on and memorize.

And he felt himself falling with every new “thanks, Billy” that you gave him.

“I mean it, baby.” He said, every time. Because he did.

And goddamnit, you were really, really starting to like him. He was holding doors for you, he was carrying your books, he was telling you how much he liked your outfits…and it was working, all of it, and by the end of the week, you were sighing and wishing that he would ask you out for real.

And then Tommy H came and fucked it all up.

“Damn, Hargrove, you did it!” He cheered on that Friday, approaching the two of you as you stood at your open locker.

Billy gave him a sharp glare. He was finally making progress with you, and the past week had been like heaven on earth for him…and here was this chucklefuck, coming to screw him over because of some stupid bet.

“Guess i owe you that beer, huh?” Tommy grinned, clapping him on the shoulder.

Billy wanted to break his arm.

“I’ll be honest, I really didn’t think you could pull it off. I mean—“ and Tommy turned to look at you, lip curled in a nasty sneer that you knew all too well. “—this one’s like, the prudest prude in town.”

“Excuse me?” You asked haughtily.

He leaned towards you. “But you’re just like every other girl, huh? Creamin’ your pants over Hargrove.”

Your nostrils flared angrily and your face felt like it was absolutely on fire as you turned your gaze from Tommy to Billy. “Are you saying this was a fucking joke? A bet?”

Billy immediately straightened up, and for once, he was struggling with what to say. “I—no, look, it wasn’t—“

“Fuck you, Billy Hargrove.” You could feel tears threatening to spill down your cheeks, but you weren’t about to stand there and cry in front of them. No fucking way.

So you slammed your locker and spun on your heel, marching away with your head down. You didn’t know where you were going, but you needed to run, get away from them, get away from the guy you knew you shouldn’t have started to trust.

Tommy let out a loud laugh as he watched you go. “Aw, I think she’s crying over you! That’s so fucking patheti—“

Billy interrupted him with a fist to the jaw.

“You fucking idiot!” He snarled, grabbing the front of Tommy’s shirt and slamming him against the lockers. “The hell’s your problem?”

Tommy looked confused, eyes wide as he tried to process what had just happened to him. “Yo, what the hell, man?”

“You ever make her cry again, and I’ll make you cry twice as hard.” Billy growled. “Is that fucking clear?”

Tommy nodded quickly, and as much as Billy wanted to stay there and beat him to a pulp, he knew he needed to find you. Because he needed to fix this before you never spoke to him again, even if that’s what he deserved.

He found you outside, sitting alone at a picnic table. Your forehead was resting on the top, your elbows on either side of your face as your hands covered your hair. You looked smaller than usual, all curled in on yourself, and Billy wanted to punch himself in the jaw for dragging you into this and ruining everything.

He approached you, clearing his throat when he was a few steps away. “Hey.”

“Go away, Billy.” Your voice was muffled.

“I wanna talk.”

“I said go away,” you said, louder this time, though your voice was heavy from your crying.

Billy shoved his hands in his pockets nervously. “Tommy’s a fucking idiot. He doesn’t know what he’s talking about.”

“I think it’s pretty obvious that he does.” You said.

“No. He doesn’t.”

You sighed loudly, picking your head up to look at him. “I know how this works. I’m the weird nerdy girl, and you’re the hot bad boy jock, and your shitty jock friends probably bet on whether or not you could get between my legs this weekend.”

“First of all, I’m not a jock.” He growled. “Second of all…Fuck.” He rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. “Look. It was a bet, but I only took it because I wanted to…get to know you.”

For a moment, all you could do was stare at him. He held his breath, hoping beyond hope that that was enough, that you would believe him and he could take you out for burgers or something and you could both just move on. When you finally opened your mouth, he straightened up slightly, standing at attention for whatever you had to say as if it would help his chances.

“How am I supposed to believe that?” You asked.

“…what?” He barked.

“You heard me.” Your lips pressed into a thin, unimpressed line as you looked up at him. “How am I supposed to believe that anything you’ve said this week was genuine? God, I feel so stupid…just leave me alone. It’s not like you care anyways.”

“Hey.” He growled. “Don’t you fucking say that.”

“Say what?”

“That I don’t care.” His eyes were dark, his teeth bared like an angry dog. “I do care.”

“…prove it.”

He rolled his eyes and you expression only hardened.

“Prove it, Billy. Otherwise I’m gone.”

“Fine.” He hissed. “I’ve been listening to you talk all fucking week.”

“Is that seriously supposed to make me feel better?” You scoffed. “You just can’t stop insulting me today, can you?”

“No, babe, I’ve been fucking listening to you.” He repeated. “Your favorite color is moss green. Not pine, not forest, moss. You like vanilla shakes and you love dipping your fries in them. You’ve got a cat named Peter and a dog named Lucy and you want a lizard but your folks keep saying no.”

As he spoke, your eyes widened. Had he…had he really been paying attention, like you had so naively hoped?

“When you were six, you fell and scraped your knee and you’ve still got the scar. You like DnD, Audrey Hepburn, and Fangoria. You can’t fucking swim, and you took ballet until you were nine.” He sighed. “That good enough for you?”

You were speechless.

“I…uh…wow,” you stammered, your anger fading away.

“I told you. Tommy is an idiot.” He pulled his hands from his pockets and held them at his sides, fingers clenching into fists and then relaxing again over and over as he fidgeted. “I only took his bet because I wanted to win. And because I wanted an excuse to talk to you.”

“You could have just talked to me like a normal person,” you said dryly.

“You’re always with Munson.”

“Well, yeah. He’s like, my best friend, so…”

“Is that it?” He asked hopefully.

“What?”

“You’re not dating that guy, right?”

The look on his face was almost endearing. “I’m not dating him.”

He visibly relaxed, fists unfurling as his shoulders dropped slightly. “Good.”

“You…really remembered a lot,” you said, chewing at your lip. “So…I guess maybe I owe you an apology for some of what I said just now. But Tommy is still—“

“Still a dick. Yeah.” He held up a hand for you to see, his knuckles red and angry. “Already took care of him.”

You felt your heartbeat quicken slightly. “Huh?”

“Soon as you left, I socked him.” He said, sounding incredibly serious. “He comes out here before I’m cooled off, something’s getting dislocated.”

“How…chivalrous.” A smile tugged at the edges of your lips. “My knight in shining armor.”

“Don’t drag me into your weird fantasy shit.”

“I think you’d be great at Dungeons and Dragons!” You argued.

He chuckled as he stepped closer, asking for permission to sit with his eyes. You scooted over a bit and he took that as an okay, sitting with his back to the table, legs spread obnoxiously to take up extra space as he leaned back on his elbows.

“You’re…nicer than I expected,” you said as you looked at him. “This whole week, you have been.”

“Yeah, well. People have layers.” He said absentmindedly, fishing in his pockets for a cigarette. “Babe, you got a smoke? …nah, you’re too goody two-shoes for that…”

You laughed lightly as you watched him and he froze, glancing up at you with those bright, wide eyes of his. He loved the sound of your laughter.

He wanted to hear more of it.

Giving up on the cigarette hunt for the time buying, he instead turned his full attention on you and cleared his throat. “Look, this whole thing was shitty. Lemme take you out to the diner later ‘n make it up to you. Deal?”

“…all right.” You smiled, even though your eyes were still puffy from crying and you were tired behind belief. “Deal.”

#billy hargrove imagine #billy hargove x reader #Billy Hargrove #stranger things x reader #stranger things

[autisticlancemcclain]

fic rec friday 33

welcome to the thirty-third fic rec friday! where, on friday, i rec five of my favourite fics.

1. Rose-Colored Boy by melancholymango

“I missed you, you know.”

“Yeah?” Lance sighed, warm and giddy, clearly not absorbing how serious the words truly were. Keith nodded his head for a few seconds, not trusting himself to speak around the size of his emotions. He was suddenly brought back to the years alone on the whale, when all he’d had to keep him going was memories of his friends, of Lance.

“Yeah.” Keith said, more certainty in his voice now. He reached down, hesitantly threading his fingers through Lance’s and giving his hand a squeeze. Lance tensed next to him. “I still do.”

“I mean, I’m right here.”

“Are you? You still seem pretty far away.”

again i know im not really big on those fics that make the team out to be deliberately cruel, but sometimes its cathartic tbh. sometimes you remember canon and ur just like yeah what if he got angry. what if someone got angry for him. what then. and mango gives us that

2. Swamp of Sorrows by SwissArmyKnife

Pike gets exposed to acidic ooze, which leads Block (& Keith) to make a few discoveries about their party’s rogue.

“We can't leave them like this,” Meklavar said of Valayun and Pike, who’d been laid beside the fire. "Look at how bad those welts are." She came up with a bottle of oil and a cake of soap. "I can smell water nearby. We can get them washed and roll them in a blanket to sleep off the spore. What do you think?"

"I think it's our only choice," Takashi said.

monsters and mana fic!!!!! everybody say YES to righteous anger on pike’s behalf. and also say yes to pike bc i love him. this fic is interesting bc its a little tense and awkward bc this ragtag team of misfits doesnt quite trust each other yet but they also cant quite stop themselves from caring about each other. so even though they dont all agree on eveyrthing and dont agree about all, they do agree that pike needs more care than he got. also unrelated but the fact that shiro’s m&m name is fucking takashi kills me every time like man just wants to be himself 💀

3. Beneath the Champagne Sea by SwissArmyKnife

The paladins make a diplomatic visit to a planet with sexual dimorphism roughly opposite that of Earth. Women are larger and more powerful, while men are leaner and smaller. Cue their horror at gaunt, sickly Pidge and mild disgust with the ’womanly’ Shiro. Lance hits the sweet spot. He's got the build and features to draw the eyes and the charm to keep them. Their hosts are quite taken with him, in particular the daughter of the queen, whose forwardness is a comic reversal of Lance’s usual dynamic with women. Lance likes the attention and finds her intriguing, but eventually things take a discomforting turn.

Lance tried to step around her, wanting to walk away from a conversation that seemed less and less likely to end well, but Leh’n seized his wrist before he could. Her grip was tight, and freeing himself would require an act of aggression, which he still wanted to avoid. ‘Think of the mission, of how important it is to get the castle up and running again,’ he coached himself.

Still, that did nothing to stop his blood pressure from skyrocketing as Leh’n leaned closer and said. “I am not accustomed to reluctance.”

i swear to god that ive recced this before, but i couldnt find it in my records so here it is!! this fic is endlessly fascinating. the exploration of gender roles is super interesting, considering who is impacted in this fic and how. the discussion about beauty standards, power imbalances, the alien wrench in things was so cool! and i think lance, who is very much someone who rides that gender lines in terms of presentation of hobbies and even chracter traits, makes sense as the main character here. interesting think piece. 

4. you had me at merlot by @ryomakun

“Oh my God,” Lance says as he covers his face. Keith’s tinny voice blares from his laptop speakers: “What do you call a fake noodle? An impasta.” See, this joke might have been funny if someone charismatic and charming had said it, but Keith’s flat voice and even flatter expression effectively kidnaps, tortures, and then decapitates any chance of it being remotely humorous.

--

Keith accidentally starts a YouTube channel. Lance, of course, refuses to be left out. It goes about as well as you'd expect. (Ft. copious amounts of wine and a truly shameless number of references to MyDrunkKitchen, DailyGrace, and general pop culture)

this fic is HILARIOUS. its one of the firsts i ever screenshotted for the scrapbook i have of fics that made me laugh out loud. i offer you this one part that really made me giggle: 

““It tastes good,” Keith says petulantly as he glares at the accusing finger Hunk has pointed at him. “No offense Hunk but that stuff you gave me for my twenty-first tasted like feet and antiseptic.”

“That was a merlot,” Hunk wails. “The good kind, too!”

Ignoring them, Lance stands in front of the rum selection. This is why he didn’t want to bring anyone. They might call him loud and embarrassing, but at least he doesn’t yell inside WalMart about the virtues of a “real red wine.” An elderly couple passes through, eying the bickering three. Lance resolutely pretends he is here shopping by himself.“

the way they are so ridiculous that LANCE of all people is embarrassed of them...cinema. also this fic is peak bc it has klance as enemies to lovers and childhood friends to lovers at the same time. iconique

5. Flayed by @admiralcanthackett

Lance gets hit with a face full of spores and it leaves him wracked with pain. Touch is the only relief he can find.

yes i know i tag this author all the time but in my defense there was a point in my life where i was OBSESSED with faer fics. truly. anyways this one has unexpectedly protective keith, like to a very high degree, and im loving the heavy themes of trust and emotional as well as physical vulnerability 

that’s it for today!! i’ll see y’all back next friday for the next fic rec post!!!

#pretty varied this week tbh!! #anyways #vld #voltron #lance #lance mcclain #keith #keith kogane #team as family #lance & hunk #established klance #enemies to lovers #fic rec #fic rec friday #langts #monsters & mana

[dem-obscure-imagines]

The Freak and His Witch

Eddie Munson x Witch!Reader

Fandom: Stranger Things

AU: Soulmate

Summary: The town of Hawkins has gone crazy, and all of the moms in town are pointing their fingers at none other than Eddie Munson, who may or may not be your soulmate…

Note: I’m so in love with Eddie it’s pitiful. Feel free to send requests, I just had to get this one out of my head.

Warnings: SPOILERS FOR SEASON 4!! Mentions of death, swearing

Word Count: 2.4k words

“Dustin, what is it now?” You said into the phone, twirling the phone cord around your finger. “Are you guys good or…?”

“Yeah! Uh, we found Eddie. I just—” You heard voices in the background. “I need a ride and also a favor. Your roommate is still out of state, right?”

“Yeah, she moved all her stuff out and went home for the rest of the semester. Why? Also what do you need?”

“Can you just—I’m on the phone with her right now. No, I—Shut up! Can you come to Skull Rock? Do you know where that is?”

“Yeah, I can, Dustin, what the fuck is going on?”

“I don’t really have time to explain. See you soon.” And with that, he hung up. You let out a long sigh.

You didn’t know Eddie Munson. You’d seen him around, sure. He was supposed to graduate from Hawkins High two years ago when you did. You knew he had trouble with his grades, but was pretty smart from what you could gather, you’d heard he was in a band, but you didn’t know if they were any good, and you knew he ran a DnD club named after an X-Men comics reference. In other words: a nerd in the shell of a long-haired eccentric punk rock-playing weed dealer.

And now he was wanted for murder. But if Dustin and Steve trusted him…maybe he could be trusted after all.

You’d still have your pepper spray on you just in case. Not that you needed it, thanks to your, uh, other abilities.

It wasn’t a long drive to Skull Rock. You figured that was why Dustin had called you in the first place. Well, that and the fact that their other friend with super powers was a plane ride away from Hawkins. You parked as close as you could before the trees hindered you from doing so, but made sure your car was out of sight of the road.

“Dustin?” You called, walking blindly out into the woods. It was especially hard to navigate when everything you saw was black and white. “Dustin?” You called a little louder.

“Shhh!” he hissed at you from somewhere ahead. “Over here.”

You continued forward until you came upon the rest of the group. Steve, Nancy, Robin, Dustin, Lucas, and Max were all standing around Skull Rock in a semi-circle facing Eddie, who was sitting on the ground surrounded by the remains of the snacks he’d been given while he was in hiding.

“And she’s cool, right? She’s not gonna—”

“I trust her with my life.” Steve crossed his arms and looked at you, giving a small grateful smile as you walked up behind him. “(Y/N), this is Eddie.”

“I gathered that much, yeah.” You nodded and finally looked up at him properly, at the exact moment he was looking at you. It felt like time stopped. It didn’t happen all at once like people had told you it would. Instead, the hues saturated slowly, first the blues of his vest, and then the shimmering emerald of the leaves on the trees around you. Then, finally, the warmer hues of his brown hair and eyes, the slight flush of his cheeks.

He stared up at you like a deer in headlights. “H-holy shit.” He stammered for a few moments, tears welling in his eyes before repeating, “Holy shit!”

“Did what I think just happened…happen?” Dustin murmured.

“Um…yeah. Yeah it did.” You brushed past the others and walked straight to Eddie, helping him off of the ground. As soon as he was on his feet, he pulled you to his chest, his arms wrapping around you without hesitation. You stumbled a bit, but held steady, your arms slotting beneath his and pulling him closer to you.

You felt him exhale a huge sigh, his head resting against yours for a moment. Right next to your ear, his heart hammered in his chest.

“You okay?” You asked, your voice swallowed up by his warmth.

“Y-yeah, I’m fine.” He nodded against you, one of his hands rising to cradle your head, stroking your hair, as if to prove you were really there with him. “It’s been a…really long week. Kind of an emotional rollercoaster.”

“I can’t believe I found you.” You whispered, pulling away the tiniest bit to look up at him, really take him in for what he was. He was a few years older than the last time you’d seen him, but so were you. He’d acquired some tattoos and some new patches and pins on his vest, but he was still rocking that Hellfire Club shirt, as usual. It suited him.

Eddie reached up and brushed some hair out of the front of your face, his hand gentle. “That makes two of us, sweetheart.” But that sparkle in his kind brown eyes flickered. “Fuck, I’m so sorry you’re getting dragged into all of this.”

“Don’t be.” You shook your head. “I’m happy to help.”

The little moment over, you turned to face the rest of the circle, stepping out of Eddie’s hold. His hand, however, slid into your own, his fingers fitting perfectly in the spaces between yours, and his rings cool against your skin. You gave his hand a squeeze, reassuring him.

“So, what do you guys need?”

“We need to kill Vecna.” Dustin said. “And we need a place to lay low for a bit. Your, uh, soulmate is kind of on the run, at the moment.”

“That, I do know. But what the fuck is a Vecna and why didn’t you call me when all of this started?”

“See, I told you we should have gotten her earlier.” Steve said, shaking his head, “but no one listens to me.”

“Vecna is…connected to me.” Max elaborated. “He’s a monster from the Upside Down. A stronger, smarter one.”

“He’s the one that killed Chrissy and Fred.” Nancy said.

“And Patrick.” Lucas added, his face falling a bit as he did.

“And he tried to kill me.” Max continued.

You listened, nodding and thinking through everything they’d told you. “Okay, yeah, we need to get back to my place asap. I’m parked over there.”

The others followed you back to your car, and everyone piled in as best as they could. Eddie sat on the floor in the back so he wouldn’t be seen from outside the car, but on the right side so he could still see you. Now that he had seen you for the first time, he never wanted to stop looking at you.

While everyone was getting settled, you reached back and touched his hand, soothing his nerves immediately. His thumb smoothed over the back of your hand for the few lingering moments before you had to focus on driving.

The drive back to your place was short. You pulled into the garage and closed the door behind you before anyone got out, just to make sure no one would see Eddie get out and call the authorities.

“I’ll go in and close the blinds.”

“I’ll help.” Robin, who was in the passenger seat, volunteered.

The two of you walked up the stairs into the living area of your townhouse-style apartment. It wasn’t huge, by any means, but it was far from tiny. You made quick work of closing the blinds, turning on the TV so the neighbors wouldn’t hear anything you said. After all, the walls here were paper thin.

“Did you know?” Robin asked quietly in the kitchen area that was separated from your living room by a long counter.

“Did I know what?”

“I don’t know, did you like…have a feeling on the drive over? That he might be your soulmate?” She said the word soulmate in almost a whisper, her eyes glistening with this fresh gossip.

“No clue. But uh…I have to admit, he’s pretty hot.” You felt your cheeks flush, even just saying it out loud. “He seems nice.”

“He is. I think. I haven’t really known him that long, either.” She shrugged, causing you to laugh.

You walked back down the stairs and signaled that the coast was clear. Everyone else got out of the car and started walking inside. Dustin was the first to make himself comfortable on your couch, Steve and Max following quickly after.

“Anyone want water or anything?” You asked, going to the fridge to get some for yourself.

“You got Capri Suns?” Dustin asked, causing you to chuckle, leaning into the refrigerator.

“I’m offended you would even ask that.” You said, reaching in and grabbing one before chucking it to him across the apartment.

“Thank you!”

“Yeah, yeah.” You grabbed a water bottle and turned around to find Eddie leaning against the nearest counter, a question in his eyes. The answer came to you before he could even ask it. “I went grocery shopping the other day. There’s a bunch of snacks and stuff in the cupboard over there.” You pointed and he nodded, gratefully.

“Thanks.”

“You don’t need to thank me.” You told him earnestly, reaching for his hand, which he readily gave to you. “My snacks are your snacks now.”

Rather than saying anything, Eddie squeezed your hand, leaned in, and pressed a quick kiss to your cheek before making a beeline for the snack cupboard. You didn’t know where he had been hiding out for the past few days, but you assumed there probably hadn’t been much to eat, given the circumstances. It was weird, you noted, how quickly your heart began to ache for him. Before this afternoon—hell, even thirty minutes ago—he had barely been in the peripheral of your life and now he was right at the center. His suffering was yours. And his fate seemed to be the most important thing to you right now, even if it was as simple as keeping him fed and sheltered.

“You good?” Steve asked, making his way through the kitchen for a drink.

“Never been better.” You replied, and you didn’t miss the smirk on Eddie’s face as you said it.

“Good. Good.” Steve glanced at the fridge behind you and then back at you. “You got any more of those Capri Suns?”

You laughed and moved out of the way so he could help himself, claiming a seat on the armrest of the couch. You noticed the news flashed on the screen so you changed the channel to the first cartoon you could find in an attempt to lighten the mood. Then, remembering the task at hand, you walked across the room and knelt down in front of your book shelf, searching it for one specific book, one about Moon Spells. And another, a bigger, thicker hardcover book. It was black with shining silver lettering, stars and a moon adorning the front and spine of it. You carried it to the coffee table in the middle of the room and sat on the floor.

“What’s that?” Eddie asked through a mouthful of chips.

Robin smiled softly. “It’s her spell book. (Y/N)’s a witch.”

“Nancy, go check my moon calendar in my room and tell me what phase the moon is in today.”

“On it.”

“Dustin, can you grab my deck?”

“Yeah where is it?”

“I’ll get it.” Robin volunteered, following Nancy up the stairs.

“It’s waxing!” Nancy called.

“When’s the full moon?” you called back.

“The 25th!”

You pondered the information for a moment and nodded, flipping through the book of moon spells and handing it to Dustin. “Find the protection ward in this section of the book.” You looked up at Max. “At the very least, I can shield the apartment for now. So long as you’re here, Vecna or whoever else won’t be able to find or communicate with you. It’ll buy us some time to sever his connection with you permanently.”

Relief hit the young red-haired girl all in a wave and she nodded gratefully. “Thank you.”

Eddie watched you work in awe, the focus on your features, the energy surrounding you. It really did feel like magic.

“Don’t thank me yet.”

***

It took about an hour to get everything in place and the ward cast. If Eddie had been a bit skeptical before, that had all faded when, upon casting said spell, the edges of the apartment all seemed to ripple, like a force field was protecting your slice of the building. And he also noticed that you looked exhausted immediately following this.

Once the feeling of safety settled in, even if it would only be temporary, everyone seemed to calm down a bit. Max was sleeping with her head in Lucas’ lap. Dustin and Steve were talking about whatever nonsense show was on now, and Robin was doing a little light reading, your giant book of spells in her lap.

“That was badass.” Eddie said when you took the seat next to him on the couch, his eyes sparkling when he said it. “You’re badass. I never really…took you for the witchy type.”

“Yeah, a lot of people don’t. In a town like Hawkins, that’s a blessing, especially right now. All of the moms in town would think I’m a satanist.” You wiggled your fingers mockingly and he laughed.

Eddie smirked. “Nah, right now, they just think I’m a satanist.”

“Fair point.”

He’s quiet for a long moment, thinking about the day he’s had. About you. “I remember you, you know. Before you graduated. I remember thinking you were the prettiest girl in the world, the Princess of Hawkins High. I never thought I’d ever have a chance with you.”

“Yeah, well, the universe had other plans, I guess.” You took his hand in your own, fiddling with his larger one, admiring the rings on his fingers. “And for the record, I always thought you were hot, Eddie. Even back then.”

He gasped playfully. “You think I’m hot?”

“Of course I do.” You leaned your head on his shoulder, your eyes heavy from the exertion of your powers. It would take some time to build your energy back up. “I don’t know how, but we’re gonna get through this shit. I promise.”

Eddie turned his head and pressed a long kiss to your hairline. “I know we are.”

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson imagine #stranger things

[infernalodie]

𝐁𝐚𝐝 𝐍𝐞𝐰𝐬 || 𝐒𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐞 𝐒𝐢𝐧𝐤

“𝘐 𝘸𝘢𝘵𝘤𝘩𝘦𝘥 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘵𝘶𝘳𝘯 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳𝘴𝘦𝘭𝘧 𝘵𝘰 𝘢 𝘮𝘢𝘥𝘦 𝘮𝘢𝘯 𝘈𝘭𝘭 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘭𝘪𝘵𝘵𝘭𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘮𝘢𝘥𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘠𝘰𝘶 𝘤𝘢𝘯 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘺𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘐 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘺𝘦𝘥 𝘥𝘰𝘸𝘯 𝘊𝘢𝘯'𝘵 𝘯𝘰𝘣𝘰𝘥𝘺 𝘵𝘦𝘭𝘭 𝘮𝘦 𝘐 𝘢𝘪𝘯'𝘵 𝘵𝘳𝘶𝘦“

Inspo: Kehlani - Bad News

Pairing: Sadie Sink x Black!Male!reader

Requested - 🚨🦇

Summary: She didn’t know half of the shit you went through. But she would be willing to understand first hand.

Warnings: Brief fluff, but overall angst

Words 2428

“Cut!” The Director called out, an alarm going off as you sighed, running your hands down your face. “Y/n, what’s going on, man?”

You couldn’t respond, only grabbing your phone from your pocket and staring at the screen. All media’s screaming out about the decision to choose you for the villain in Ms. Marvel. It’d started when the rumours came up, but after the trailer was released, you have been getting nonstop hate.

So, without much thought besides pure anger and frustration, you whipped your phone at the floor. “Fuck!”

The sheer volume of your shout silenced the entire room, who looked to see you fuming. Everyone on set knew of the trials that you and Iman had been going through after getting cast for the show. Now, Iman only had the troubles surrounding Ms. Marvel’s powers, but that was Marvel’s decision. But for you, no one liked the casting you were given. The moment people found out, there had been nothing but hate for weeks.

Anybody who was famous and had experienced what you are was lying if they said the initial hate didn’t bother them. Because today you had made the mistake of bringing your phone on set and you were paying the price for it. Phone constantly going off and even in between scenes, you were looking at your phone and the bullshit coming from it. You couldn’t remember your lines and the fact you guys were going through major reshoots was only adding to the stress.

It was understandable to hate a character from the comics and the things he did in the comics, but this was a show. A new look at the character you were tasked to bring to the screen, along with the director. You took the role to hopefully take a leap in your career and do the roles you were actually wanting to do. But this wasn’t at all what you signed up for.

Iman, being one of the only people brave enough to comfort you, walked over and placed a hand on your shoulder. You leaned into her touch, bending over and trying to take calming breaths. “Wanna take a break?” She asked softly.

In the time both of you walked out on set and did your first scene together, you instantly clicked. Although your character was Homelander Esque from The Boys, a brutal psychopath, you managed to be able to put down the mask at will. Which made the in-between takes relaxing when you could joke around with the girl and talk freely. She made this decision and transition easy for you. And she might’ve been the only person there that could somewhat understand what you were going through.

But you shook your head, sighing as you ran a hand down your face. “No, I should be good.” Placing your hand on your hips, you turned to the staff and waved your hand. “I’m sorry, everyone. I- I’ve just been having a difficult time. Let’s do that again. Sorry.”

They all nodded, getting back to their places as you walked on stage with a sigh. “I hope Sadie is having a good day.”

“Hey, uh, Sadie? Have you heard from your boyfriend?” Dylan asked, sitting in the makeup trailer, eyes scanning his phone with furrowed eyebrows.

The redhead that was sitting beside him frowned, glancing over for a moment. “Um, no?” She said. “Why? Did something happen?”

Dylan was about to open his mouth to speak, but the trailer doors opened and Taylor stepped inside. An uneasy look on her face as she walked over. “Sadie, you might want to hear this.”

Handing over her phone, a video was going viral on Twitter that was a pure black screen. The caption talking about you on the set of Ms. Marvel. A show you were extremely excited to be a part of and even had her read lines with you. She knew that you weren’t planning on signing a multi-movie deal with Marvel, just considering how the experience would go. But seeing that the caption was involving you having a massive outburst, she could only guess that this would be your one and only appearance with Marvel.

And when she watched the video, she heard something smash and you yell something before the video cut to you apologizing. She couldn’t blame you at all for what happened. Considering that all the tweets below were making fun of you, she was guessing this was the reasoning behind the said outburst. With how reshoots have been going for you, the addition of hate could only stress you out further. So, she knew that tonight would likely be a rather quiet night between you two.

“Y/n! I’m home!” Sadie called out, shutting the front door to the large house as she kicked her shoes off and proceeded further. No response was given as she found you sat on the couch in front of your 4k TV with Stranger Things on, passed out with a soft snore coming from you.

A smile formed on her lips as she placed her bag down and took her jacket off before walking over. You wore a pair of black joggers and no shirt from the heat of California recently. Your chocolate back was presented to her as she carefully straddled your back, leaning forward and resting against you. Only creating a larger heat to build between you two.

You shifted underneath her, grumbling as you lifted your head just enough to see her smiling down at you. “Hi, baby.” You playfully puckered up your lips, making Sadie laugh as she kissed you softly.

“How was work?” She muttered, but you groaned, laying your head back down onto the pillow as you watched Steve push Dustin’s butt into the vent. A soft laugh fell from your lips before you glanced back up at her.

“How was Dylan?” You avoided, shifting around until she straddled your waist where you let your hands rest on her thighs. “Haven’t heard from him since Maze Runner. He doing good?”

Sadie knew that you didn’t like talking about your work life. You were always far keener to learn about hers and see how she was doing. Able to avoid your side of life fully, but still have so many questions about hers. It was one thing she loved and despised about you. She couldn’t hold it against you considering today likely was a pain in the ass for you. But every day seemed to be having that single description.

She sighed, leaning back as she rested her hands on your stomach. “He’s good,” she answered. “We finished up filming, so I get a day or two off before I have to get into filming for Season 4 of Stranger Things. Don’t know if I am excited or dreading the filming for it.”

You chuckled, nodding in understanding as you shot your hands. “You and me both.”

That made Sadie tilt her head, nails gently tracing shapes and figures into your skin. Earning a gentle hum of approval as you sighed softly. “I saw the video.” The mere mention of the video made you groan. Having been told by the director and Iman, who ambushed you at the end of the day about it. Promising to find whoever was responsible and punish them for it. But you knew that there was no direct way to figure out who could leak the video. There were far too many people on set to even single out the person.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“Nope.”

“Do you wanna talk about the hate.”

“Could care less about that.”

Sadie chuckled in amusement as you shook your head. “It doesn’t bother me, Sadie. I got it for when I was in The Harder They Fall-”

“But all that hate was from racists if we’re being honest here.” Sadie pointed out.

“Fair point, but I’ve always had a chip on my shoulder,” you stated. “I’m not going to let some people deter me from a role because I’m black and it goes against the comic version of the character. Yes, it is a big change, but that doesn’t mean shit to me.”

“You don’t have to act tough around me, you know?” Sadie reminded softly. “I come to you about all my problems. Don’t think that means you aren’t allowed to either.”

That was a very true statement, but you didn’t go to Sadie about it because it was often you were gaining daily comfort from your aunt. Yes, Sadie knew you like the back of her hand, but your aunt knew you and read between the lines of everything you said. Able to get to the core of your problems and provide help. It’s not like Sadie wasn’t able to do the same, but your aunt has been there since you were a kid.

But Sadie had accepted that she wasn’t the first person you would go to. After everything you’ve been through with your parents and trauma overall, she couldn’t relate. So, she understood completely that you needed to vent to someone who knew you best. Instead, she would keep an open eye and help wherever she could. If you beckoned her, she was sprinting to your aid. It was that unconditional love that had fueled and made this three-year-long relationship sustainable.

“I think you should take a break from acting-”

“Can’t.” Sadie stared down at you, slightly surprised by how quickly you were to interject. “I have Uncharted with Tom, then I have Black Adam, and then I have Oppenheimer with Robert and Cillian.”

“Do you ever take a break?” Sadie teased softly, blessed to hear when that soft chuckle falls from your lips. “You should take a break. You have enough money to just hold back on taking any more roles for the next few months.”

“But what’s the point if I can’t spend that free time with you?” You asked softly, earning that large smile from Sadie.

She brushed a finger across your caramel skin, kissing your cheek softly and muttering, “You are adorable.”

“No, I am being realistic.” You grumbled as the girl laughed.

The both of you laughed as you two spent the majority of the night sitting and watching Stranger Things. With you preparing for long and gruesome coming weeks of reshoots for something you were already regretting ever deciding to do.

Well, the filming of the show was done and you finished filming for the other three projects given you didn’t have massive roles in almost all of them. So, you were still looking for other projects that were willing to take you up. And so far, reception for Uncharted had been mixed. You played the games, so you knew it would be expected when you got the script. But a lot of people liked your character, so that was something for you to look forward to.

After the reshoots for Ms. Marvel, the second trailer came out and gave your character more exposure from Kamala Khan. Showing just how well you did portraying the character that was far different from your previous roles. Especially considering, they might’ve not shown it on screen, but you killed soldiers without a second thought. It might’ve just been your acting and the direction the studio took the character that allowed some of the people to accept your character and you.

There was still the mixed reception, but it wasn’t as bad as it was before. It gave you enough time to finally breathe and feel some sort of weight off your shoulders. And now, you are using the very small time with Sadie before you go film Uncharted.

Today, you were accompanying her and Millie to the set of Stranger Things. Happy that you finally get to experience Sadie acting firsthand, as well as support her. It was a rare occasion that you were excited to finally get as you wanted to spend every waking moment with your girlfriend.

So, when the springer van pulled at the front of the closed-off studio, you, Sadie, and Millie exited with bodyguards surrounding you. You held Sadie’s hand, sunglasses blocking out the sun as you held a cigarette in the other.

But as you guys approached the entrance of the studio, fans and paparazzi could be seen behind a fence. They screamed Millie and Sadie’s names hysterically. The two girls gave friendly waves and smiles as you kept your head down. Since finishing Ms. Marvel, you had opted to keep your head down. As well as not spill too much into what you were doing next, so you’d been under the radar for a bit.

Except, your head snapped towards the fence when you heard, “Fuck you, Y/n! You fucking suck ass in Ms. Marvel!”

Now, you have had many verbal altercations with people and the roles you’ve gotten. There is always going to be that one person that wants to speak their mind and it isn’t much you can really do about that. So, you just continued to walk, keeping a deadpan as best as you could. If only Sadie had felt the same because she was quick to break off from your side and march towards the fence.

“Who said that?” She yelled. “Who the hell said that?”

“Sadie- shit!” You rushed over with Millie in tow as Sadie found the person responsible for the comment.

“Who the hell do you think you are?” She spat. “Judging someone just because of a character they play- You haven’t even seen the show yet and you’re making rude comments!”

Before anything could continue, you literally picked the girl up bridal style and quickly jogged away. Jaw ticked in frustration as Sadie fumed in silence. “You alright, love?” Millie asked, specificity of who not set as you kept your eyes forward, allowing Millie to direct.

But Sadie nodded, turning her gaze to you, and before she could speak, you cut her off. “You don’t have to fight my battles for me. You just gotta leave it alone when it’s fans.”

“They had no right to speak to you like that,” Sadie huffed. “You may be used to it, but that doesn’t mean they get to continue to treat you like that. And if they were fans of mine, then they aren’t anymore.”

A small smile forms on your lips as you look away, shaking your head in amusement. “I don’t deserve any bit of you.”

Sadie leaned up, kissing your cheek. “You deserve the world and everything in it, Y/n.”

#sadie sink #sadie sink imagine #sadie sink x black!reader #sadie sink x black!male!reader #sadie sink x reader #sadie sink angst #sadie sink fluff #sadie sink fanfiction #poc reader #x black!reader #x black reader #x black!male!reader #sadie sink x male!reader

[lady-snowbl00d]

Undisclosed Desires and Power Plays

Coriolanus Snow x OC Warnings~ This chapter has no warnings. If continued, this will probably get spicier than paprika hendl though (?) About ~ Post-TBOSAS. Takes place when Snow is Head Gamemaker and he has to work with someone who doesn't exactly like him. Enemies-to-enemies with weird shit going on. If you want me to continue or tag you in future chapters please reblog or comment! Just please let me know if you like this. Also: Posted on ao3 as well. Not beta-read. We die like Rue. Enjoy (hopefully)!

“You called for me, Mr. Snow?”

The way she said his name, her heavy intonation of those last three syllables as compared to the easy way she said the beginning of her sentence, made him seethe. He knew she was one of the many who did not like him much. He also knew, however, that one day he would be President, and addressed as so by her and everyone else.

For now, he would relish in his role as Head Gamemaker.

“Ms. Fontaine.”

He nodded his head and gave a quick signal with his hand to motion for her to sit before his desk.

“Please, take a seat.”

Demetria Fontaine stood still for a moment, then looked down with a small smile and sat down in front of him. She tugged at the waist of her shirt, smoothed out her skirt, and folded her hands on her lap. She looked at him in a sort of unnerving way. She was proper, polished, and even had the polite hint of a smile in the corner of her lips, but her eyes were void of much. Disconnected. Funny he would notice something like that. But he had grown accustomed to that – inspecting people like the deceitful specimens they were.

“I wonder if you realize the role you’ve been given for the second year in a row is important to our efforts.”

She didn’t respond, only tilted her chin up a bit.

She was one of the Gamemakers working with him, or well, under him (he much preferred the term). She was the most skilled at the data and technological aspects, and in spite of the fact that she was…privileged and likely given her role due to her name and finances, she was skilled.

Although anyone was replaceable. It was good to remind those under him that they were. Especially those who bothered or disliked him.

“The more cooperative you are, the more you deliver to the Games, the better your future will be.”

He smiled, an easy, kind smile, and tilted his head a bit.

Demetria found it unsettling.

“Yes, I am well-aware. I was born into this, Mr. Snow. Have I done something wrong?” she smirked a bit, then stopped abruptly.

“Did I say that?” he blinked. He allowed a melodious sarcasm to enter his tone.

“Of course not, the Capitol is very keen on their choice of words,” she said in something close to a whisper, leaning forward towards him as if she were sharing gossip with a friend from University. Her eyes were even a bit wider then. It was almost comical.

Coriolanus almost smirked. Intrusive thoughts flashed through his mind briefly, in reaction to her poisonous words. He shook off his thoughts – and her words -- with a tsk, and looked back at her as she straightened back on her seat. Sorry – his seat.

“You work very well,” he assured her. “I only mean to remind you that we can all do better. Don’t you think?”

“I agree. We can all do better,” she said simply.

And he was unsure what she meant by that. Her hands remained still on her lap, shoulders back in good posture. Something irked him about her character, something about her seemingly physical stoicism made it hard to read her. He would look over her more if he could, but he wished to use their current eye contact to his advantage.

“I’m so glad you feel that way,” he said as he leaned back and looked into her dark eyes. For a moment there was only silence.

“Am I dismissed?” she said.

“No,” he said smoothly.

On his desk there were roses, paper, writing utensils, and a bowl with some green apples to snack on. He reached over and took one.

The young woman before him inhaled and exhaled sharply. A small crack in her demeanor, and it produced him great pleasure to see it - her chest rose and fell unevenly with the effort. He took a bite of the apple and Demetria’s eyes wandered to his lips. She withheld a sneer of some sort, obviously thinking – and rightly so – that he was wasting her time to assert his power over her. To remind her of who she worked under – and that she was being unreasonable to dislike or distrust him, who had gained such authority.

He relaxed in his seat and took a second bite. After a few moments, he regarded her with another kind smile.

“You are dismissed,” he said finally, raising his eyebrows a bit before taking a third bite.

She stood, probably a bit quicker than she intended to, and gave him a courteous nod before exiting the office.

#coriolanus snow #coriolanus x oc #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #tbosas #the hunger games #hunger games #tom blyth

[desperate-daydream]

🍎 Twilight

❀ Seth Clearwater x male reader ⚣︎

A/N: ok, I'll admit it.. I've had a crush on this cutie since like forever and I have daydreamed many scenarios with him. XD

(Maybe I could write down a few more.)

tags/warnings: plays after the last movie, reader is a hybrid like renesme, he has siren-powers, including the headcanon that the vampires don't sparkle but their skin becomes "see through" when the sun hits them so you can see black blood swirling beneath it etc., I tried to make Edward a bit less suffering drama queen and a bit more comical/happy

side ships: Renesme x Jacob, Bella x Edward, etc. (Cullen coven & Quileute pack canon ships)

So, you’re a siren

"Hello", Carlisle spoke with his soft tone to the wolf pack, "We're glad you came." He signaled for them to get inside the big house with floor-length windows. The sunlight shone through them for a few seconds and caught on the vampires' skin.

Some of the wolves still flinched at the sight of the swirling black blood, frozen organs and white bones under the translucent pale skin. It was something shocking, even horrifying. It made the fact even clearer that those people infront of you were undead. Caught it this body, this age and state, forever.

Edward heard all their thoughts. He had gotten used to the nonverbal comments, the mental shiver going through them at this scene. But as always he wasn't prepared for some of the more comedic things some of the boys thought from time to time when it came to his family of immortal beings.

He let out a snort and turned away to hide his growing grin as he surpressed the fit of giggles rising in his chest. The try to restrain made his organs visibly twitch and fortunately the sun went to hide behind a cloud again so that it was only noticable for a second.

Carlisle who had yet again been very observant smiled softly. "Apologies for making you a bit uncomfortable with this sight but we like to have one place where we don't have to hide."

"Don't worry", Sam answered just as calmly, "You don't have to apologize. It's just a bit surprising seeing it happen in real life. We'll get used to it eventually."

They had greatly detailed stories about the translucent skin of vampires and they had heard them a few times already. But as good as a storyteller can be, even if it's an old sacred legend, seeing it in person can be slightly terrifying. It made it much more real what actually happens around you.

"Tell me about it." Bella stood in the doorway to the kitchen and made her way towards them to hug her best friend Jacob. Just in time before her daughter walked out of that room too to hug her soulmate.

"So", the older alpha started, "Why did you want us to come over?" He had not missed the fact how Esme had placed a grounding hand on her husbands shoulder, how both Rosalie and Emmet seemed to stand guard on the stairs leading up towards the living room or how Renesmee stayed glued to Jake's side with a worried look on her face.

"We have something to show you. Or rather someone to introduce to you. We wanted to inform you properly of our newest family member since.. well, follow me and see yourself."

Sam quickly exchanged looks with some of his pack members before moving. They followed the vampired up the wooden stairs. Emmett, Rosalie and Jasper stood infront of the sofa purposely blocking the view to the person sitting there. When everyone stood in place Carlisle gave a signaling nod to the wall infront of their newest member.

"May I introduce (Y/N) to you. The reason why we wanted to do it this way is beacause he is like Renesmee. He is half vampire half human." The vampires moving to the side revealed a boy looking around the age of 19. You seemed worried and clearly anxious looking up at them and Emmett stayed close to you - just in case.

You looked into each new face trying a nice smile even though you knew it looked more like a forced grimmace.

When you came to a certain boy's face with warm eyes, cute features and a welcoming curious gaze everything stopped. The wolves tensed up slightly as they felt and saw the change in the room and Edward shoot up from the armrest of the chair Bella sat on.

The young wolf's eyes widened just like yours. And on top of that you also blushed as you couldn't turn your gaze away from him. "At least you can be sure now that he won't get hurt by us", Jake jocked earning a slap from Nessie.

Carlisle looked at Edward questioningly even though he was quite sure what was going on. Ed sighed and then grinned. He was happy for Seth who had become a good friend and almost like a brother to him. And he was happy for (Y/N) too. You had been so anxious the whole time with your thoughts racing around constantly and imagining almost every possible bad scenario.

"Seth imprinted. On (Y/N)", Eddie finally said out loud. Seth let out a heavy breath and looked at his sister anxiously. But she smiled when she catched his look even though she was still suspicious of this new boy they didn't know anything about yet.

Carlisle smiled calmly again. "Well then, I guess we get to the part of explaining a bit more." He gestured for everyone to get more comfortable. Seth immediately went to the sofa (Y/N) sat on making them both blush when he realized that his body had moved entirely on its own. Most of the others sat down or leaned against something while hardly suppressing giggles.

„Alright, another reason for that is the fact that he has powers too“, Carlisle continued. Every wolf‘s gaze went to the new hybrid trying to figure out if you had mental powers like Edward or Alice. „Do you want to explain them yourself?“, the oldest vampire asked you softly. You considered it for a moment before nodding. He smiled and signaled you to start.

“Uhm.. so, my dad, the vampire, had the powers to lure people in so that they would do what he wants them to do. That‘s how he managed to impregnate my mom who was apparently a very good singer. And well, my powers are basically a mix between those. I can hypnotize people through singing.“ You looked down at your hands feeling insecure with being so exposed to all those new people. „So you‘re basically a siren“, Seth said. You looked up at him with wide eyes.

You could only nod slowly and blushed again when your eyes caught his again. You had never thought of it this way. This term made your power seem really cool to be honest.

“Sorry“, Sam said to get your attention, “May I ask how you came to be here with the Cullens.“

Your eyes instantly went to Carlisle and Esme. They had been the most calming parts to you from the start. As well as Jasper of course who used his power a tiny bit so you wouldn‘t get another panic attack.

Esme gave you a warm smile. So, you gave them a short summary of your not so pleasant life.

How you were born and your mother had died immediately. That you were ‘raised‘ by her boss - the owner of a strip club. You didn‘t really have a choice or chance to get somewhere else. Then your so called father had shown up when he heard of your powers and wanted to take you with him.

Well, jokes on him because you had researched in secret, had heard from the Cullen clan and actually managed to run away. Bonus point that your ‘dad‘ had followed you and was.. removed with the help of the Cullens who had took you in when they heard your story.

It was quiet for only a few seconds but it was enough for your heartbeat to pick up again as you started to tense up.

Untill warm fingers brushed over yours. Seth didn‘t take your hand entirely but it helped you calm down. You looked at him and saw the small smile he gave you. It was warm, sweet and sunny. And you noticed that he had a cute dimple.

You gave a smile back, almost not noticeable. But Seth‘s senses were already fully focused on you. Every little change in your handsome face, those pretty eyes or your body was as clear as day from the moment you had linked eyes.

“Thank you for telling us“, Sam said with a warm voice. “I guess it is already clear that we will protect you as well. And you‘re always welcome on our land.“ He looked at Seth and then at your liked fingers laying on the cushions.

After that you all relaxed much more. Emmett still stayed close to you - he was pretty sure that you weren’t in danger anymore but he couldn’t deny that he had immediately had the urge to be like a big brother to you. And like with all his family, he wanted to protect you no matter what.

Leah came to you and introduced herself. She was still a bit cold and reluctant at first but soon warmed up to you. You really seemed like a good choice for her little brother - though she still swore to give you at least a light shovel talk once you felt better and safer. She didn‘t want to scare you off, just give you a little warning with care.

#seth clearwater #seth clearwater x male reader #seth clearwater x reader #x male reader #x trans male reader #gay #twilight

[bluejaysandblackbats]

Titans Academy

Fandom: DC Comics, Titans, Arrowfam

Summary: Grant struggles to accept his new reality when Roy takes him in and enrolls him in Titans Academy. He must adjust to life at a boarding school and life with his new foster family (Roy and Lian). Can he learn to trust the people who claim to care about him? Or will he shut himself off from love altogether?

Chapters: 4/?

Characters: Grant Emerson, Roy Harper, Bart Allen, Toni Monetti, Cody Driscoll, Lian Harper, Jade Nguyen, Audrey Spears, Tommy Blake Jr.

Additional Tags: Father-Son Relationship, Boarding School AU, No Powers AU, Found Family, Second Chances, Roy Harper is a Legal Guardian, Roy Harper is a Father, POV First Person, Grant Emerson POV, Autistic Bart Allen

Chapter Four: Group Therapy I

It felt like the day went on forever, but I still had to go to group therapy. Roy practically escorted me there. I didn't know any of the kids in my group from my other classes. They went around introducing themselves and saying what grades they were in. When they got to me, I introduced myself, but I forgot to say what grade I was in. "Hey, pay attention, Daddy's boy. You forgot to say what grade you were in," the first boy teased. I hated being talked to like that. "Cody—." "Fuck you," I replied. Cody grinned. "Hey, can we bring it back?" one of the other kids suggested. "It's nice to meet you, Grant... Try not to worry too much about what Cody has going on." "Roy's not my dad... I don't know my dad. And I'm a junior," I replied. "Cool-. I mean, the junior part. Not the part about your dad," she whispered. Once the group got back on track, the guy moderating started talking about family and conflict. "My mom was cool about everything, but she worried. I gave her a lot of reasons to worry, I guess. She didn't even tell me I was going here," Cody replied, "She just dropped me off... But I guess it was good that she did." "Sounds like she was trying to avoid conflict for herself, not for you," one of the girls mentioned. Cody softened, and he shook his head. "My mom's doing her best. What's bashing her gonna do?" Cody asked. He didn't seem argumentative or cocky anymore. That all faded away with a bit of criticism of his mom. I felt a little bit sorry for the guy. "At least she did something," I replied, "My—. I guess she's not even my mom... She never tried to help. She stood back, and she'd clean everything up after the fact. All she did was try to make me forget, but it wasn't to protect me. Do you know how bad that feels?" I realized I was talking about myself, and I sank down in my seat. Cody mouthed, "Thank you." I nodded in reply, but I felt weird sharing anything about my parents in front of strangers. Another kid jumped in and started talking about how his dad turned everything into an argument, and a few other kids shared. The guy moderating explained that there's a balance to conflict. Too little battle could prove to be as detrimental as too much. "A fear of disputes can look like complacency or a lack of consideration... While too much can make you feel like your guardians are nitpicking or that they simply don't appreciate you at all," the man whispered. We closed out, and Roy met me outside. He had tears in his eyes. "You okay?" I asked. Roy nodded. "It was a brutal end to the day, but I'll make it. Group's never easy," Roy replied, "How was your first day?" "I thought I was gonna hate it at first... But it wasn't that bad—." "Thanks for today, new kid," Cody whispered. Roy glanced at me and smiled. "Cody's thanking someone?" Roy questioned. He seemed impressed. "You're free to go for the next forty-five minutes, but I want you home by nine." I nodded, and Roy left me to wander the campus. Bart ran into me and offered for me to come back to his room to read comics. I took him up on his offer, but we mostly hung out. Bart talked the whole time, but I didn't hate it. At least he seemed happy. "Hey, Bart... Who's this?" I asked as I touched one of the pictures hanging on his wall. "That's my dad. He died when I was a baby," Bart replied, "And the other pictures are of my grandpa and grandma, my cousins, Wally and Jenni, and—." "You're a twin," I interrupted accidentally. Bart tensed up. "Where's your brother?" "I don't have a brother... I have a twin," Bart replied. I didn't know what he meant by that, so I didn't say anything else. I said goodnight, and I went home. Roy lay on the couch with his eyes closed. "You're early, you know," Roy whispered. He seemed exhausted. "What'd you do?" "Why does Bart hate his twin?" I asked.

"He'll tell you when he's ready," Roy replied, "Could I hear about your day?" I sat in his chair, linking my fingers over my chest as I stared at Roy. He lay still, eyes shut, but I knew he was listening. "It was alright... Am I allowed to talk about the group?" I asked. "You can talk about yourself but no one else," Roy replied. "The day was long, but I'm glad I don't have to talk about myself anymore this week. Am I allowed to hang out this weekend?" I asked. "Yeah. If you get through tomorrow the way you did today, you can go wherever. I think Garth is going to the beach or something... Donna's going bowling with whoever's down to go... And I'm doing movie night. Saturday, though, I'm not sure what we're doing. I'll probably take some of the kids hiking. I feel like I'm forgetting something important," Roy mumbled. He pulled a blanket over himself and stretched out. "You don't have to wake up at four tomorrow... But that's not what I'm forgetting." "Roy? Are you gonna sleep there tonight?" I asked. "Not sleeping, just resting my eyes... Thursdays are my tough days. I run a group just like everyone else, and sometimes it takes a toll... But I'll be okay by tomorrow," Roy reassured me. I rolled my shoulders back and went to the kitchen. I couldn't sleep when people seemed tense, so I made Roy some tea. He had a bunch of different kinds. Some stuff I'd never even heard of. After the kettle started whistling, I picked two packets with a picture of white flowers and what I imagined was a lemon. I set the teacup on a coaster and tapped Roy's shoulder. "I don't know how you like your tea... I just thought that-." Roy sat up and took a deep breath. I thought he'd chew into me for touching his stuff, but he leaned forward, hiding his face in his hands. "Thank you, Grant. That was really thoughtful," Roy whispered. He collected himself without a tear, but I could tell it was hard. It was weird. I'd only known the guy for three days, but it seemed like he knew me way longer than that. I wondered if he knew something I didn't or if he was like that with everybody. It felt good to finally come home at the end of the day, but I worried things wouldn't stay that way. If I learned anything from my parents, things are never what they seem.

#fic #titans #titans academy fic #Grant Emerson #Roy Harper #Bart Allen #Toni Monetti #Cody Driscoll #Lian Harper #Jade Nguyen #Audrey Spears #Tommy Blake Jr. #Father-Son Relationship #Boarding School AU #No Powers AU #Found Family #Second Chances #Roy Harper is a Legal Guardian #Roy Harper is a Father #POV First Person #Grant Emerson POV #Autistic Bart Allen #arrowfam #audhd Bart Allen if we're being real

[anonymityisfunwriter]

The Twin Flame - Chapter 24: "The Man"

"They'd say I hustled, put in the work. They wouldn't shake their heads and question how much of this I deserve…"

"Would you give them up?" Zemo asks you, his forehead covered with a cold compress after Zemo complained about his head being sore after John confronted him about the serum vials. 

You took the slightest amount of solace in the fact that the vials were all gone. Now, no one could have them. Not John Walker. Not the Flag Smashers. Not even the Power Broker. 

You sit on the couch, staring at the massive fracture in the column once again. You don't even have to think about it before you reply, "If I had the opportunity, yes."

"No hesitation. Very impressive," Zemo commends, laying on the couch perpendicular to you. He sits up, watching you intently as he speaks, "You can't hold out hope for Karli. No matter what you saw in her, she's gone. And we cannot allow that she and her acolytes to become yet another faction of gods amongst real people. The enhanced individual, they cannot be allowed to exist."

"Isn't that how gods talk?" Sam prompts, pausing his typing on his laptop. He turns himself on the stool to glare at Zemo, "And if that's how you feel, what about Bucky? What about her? Blood isn't always the solution."

Bucky quickly strides into the room, only just getting back from another sweep of the area to give him peace of mind. "Something's not right about Walker."

"You don't say," Sam sarcastically mutters. 

Bucky haphazardly tears off his jacket, tossing it onto the back of the couch. "I know a crazy when I see one. Because I am crazy."

"Can't argue with that."

"I don't think you're crazy," you kindly offer. "You're like me and I'm not crazy."

"Yeah," Sam looks at you with his lips pulled in and his eyebrows comically raised. Sam nods, patting the marble column with the large crack in the center from your earlier outburst. "You're both the picture of mental health."

"Just another reason you shouldn't have given him the shield," Bucky snarks.

"For the last time, I didn't give John the shield!" Sam borderline shouts, clearly frustrated with the subject at hand. 

"Well, Steve definitely didn't. Which actually brings me to another question," Bucky whirls around to pointedly stare at you. "Did you know he was going to do that?" 

"Me?" you scoff, standing up off the couch with a huff. "No, he was too busy lying to me!"

"Lying?" Sam repeats in disbelief. "You left! You just up and left!"

"I didn't just leave!" you loudly fume. "You knew where I was going!"

"No, I didn't! Because you lied to me!" Sam accuses. "Are we just moving past the fact that you lied to me and then stopped speaking to me? No phone calls. Not a single text message. Nope, I had to ask Joaquin to make sure you weren't lying dead in a ditch somewhere!"

"I only omitted, I never lied! And why would I be lying dead in a ditch anywhere?" you rant.

"I don't know! It's an expression and it's also still a lie!"

"Honesty is always the best policy, Sam," Bucky smugly adds. 

"And don't even get me started on you," you furiously retort, pointing at Bucky while still glaring at Sam. "You lied just as much as he did!" 

Bucky sputters for a moment, turning to you with wide eyes, "What? How does that even-?"

Before Bucky can finish his defense, the door flies open again. John stands at the center of the door with Lemar at his side, he harshly commands, "Alright, I order you to hand over Zemo right now."

“Hold on!” you shout, holding one finger up to John and Lemar. You turn back to Sam and Bucky with narrowed eyes. “We are not done fighting, but I don’t want to be rude so we will call this a time out.”

"Fine," Sam huffs.

"Fine," Bucky grunts. 

"Fine," you repeat. 

"That's it. Let's go, I'm ordering you to hand over Zemo," John repeats, this time he nudges his head at you. "Her too."

You jolt, bewildered by John's order. You point to yourself, "Me?"

"Slow your roll," Sam curtly interjects. "Shield or no shield, the only thing you're running here is your mouth. Now, we had Karli and you overstepped. He's actually proven himself useful today. We're gonna need all hands on deck for whatever's coming next."

"How do you want the rest of this conversation to go, Sam?" John sneers, stepping up to Sam. "Because I really don't think you want to find that out."

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” you interrupt, inserting yourself in between Sam and John. “No one yells at Sam except me. And sometimes Bucky!”

As the words leave your mouth, you notice an eerie look flash across John's face. Just as he takes another step forward, this time toward you, Bucky stalks toward him, and with a murderous look on his face, Bucky quietly warns, "Don't piss me off, John." 

John ignores Bucky's warning, taking another menacing step towards you. Sam grabs your arm, trying to pull you away from him. Your feet remain firmly planted, your curiosity overriding your own self preservation instincts. 

"You know, I've done my research," John starts, his voice low and threatening. And suddenly, all your suspicions are confirmed. The reason John knew about Sam previous counseling work, because he'd been digging up dirt on the two of you. "And I actually think it's pretty interesting, at least what hasn't been erased." John looks to Sam first, "Tell me, Sam, what does a person have to do to get Nick Fury's attention? For him to be so interested that he calls you all the way down to SHIELD headquarters? And when you leave, you leave with a mysterious SHIELD asset. There's not much on this 'asset', I'll admit, but if it was kept that quiet, I'd imagine it meant a lot to SHIELD. Something unprecedented." John's eyes flicker back to you, and now, you have not a doubt in your mind that he knows everything, "Or someone unprecedented."

"You know, for a lot of words, you're really saying very little," Sam seethes.

"I have to wonder though. What did you, of all people, do to get Nick Fury to trust you that much?" John continues prodding. 

"Nick Fury didn't trust anyone," you reply for Sam. "He was just a good judge of character. Duh."

"Maybe," John muses, clearly ready to use another of the tricks up his sleeve. "He picked well then. He's got two people who call themselves free agents still doing SHIELD's dirty work. After all this time, still doing Fury's bidding."

"Do you ever stop talking?"

You raise your hand to stop Sam before he stops John from speaking. Not because he's saying anything that you didn't already know, but you're interested in finding out exactly how much he actually knows. 

"But you," John finally turns to you. "I won't lie, you intrigue me. You just - you don't add up. After everything Sam and Bucky did to you, here you are, still standing by them."

"Those are my friends you're talking about," you retort. 

"Friends?" John snorts. "Some friends they are."

"What the hell does that mean?" Bucky demands. 

"It means, I wouldn't be so quick to call you two friends." Though, only moments ago, you wanted to know what John knew. An eerily foreboding sensation starts creeping up your spine. Like he knows too much, more than you did. More than Sam did. And definitely more than Bucky knew. "Sam, weren't you the one who dragged her to Berlin and got her charged with obstruction of justice?"

"How did you-" Sam starts, his voice just above a soft exhale. 

"It's interesting what you can find out with just a little bit of time and effort."

"I would choose your next words very carefully, Walker," Bucky glowers.

John hums. "Tell me Bucky, did you get a little too close to Sunshine?"

"Don't call her that," Bucky snaps.

"I mean that is why she let you go, right?" John muses. And just like that, you've confirmed that John Walker is ready to tell all of your secrets. But mostly, the one you never wanted Bucky to know. "I have a hard time thinking of people that I would take on both Tony Stark and General Ross for. I can't help but think that maybe there was something else going on. But maybe I'm wrong, maybe it was for Steve Rogers?"

"That's not true," you adamantly deny. Your eyebrows furrow as you softly shake your head, "You don't know what you're talking about."

"Don't I? Because if I remember reading those transcripts correctly." Your heart sinks into the very pit of your stomach as John continues talking, all you can do is hope that the conversation he uncovered wasn't the one that you were thinking about. You knew the truth, but you also knew how it looked and sounded. He'd blame himself. He wouldn't hear that it wasn't his fault. "Tony was the one that saw you let Bucky go. He told Ross. And Ross, well, you know what Ross did. But really, if you think about it, you ended up on the Raft - because of Bucky."

John's words take Bucky so aback that he actually looks to you for an answer. His eyes flicker over to you, the question leaving his mouth in a choked whisper, "What?"

You keep your eyes trained on John, your hands curling into fists as you try to remain composed. 

"I see I've hit a nerve," John chortles, his eyes flickering to Bucky who still maintains a pleading expression aimed at you. "I guess it doesn't matter, she's coming with me - of her own volition or not."

"You're either incredibly arrogant, or incredibly stupid making demands like that," Sam spits. 

"Or maybe I just know how to play my cards right. Like taking back an asset. An asset that never signed the Accords, and if I'm right that means acting in any 'free-agent' capacity is against the law."

"You don't know what you're talking about," Sam sneers. "All you know is how to run your mouth."

"Maybe I don't know what I'm talking about, but I'm sure Ross would love to know what you three have been up to. Let's see, that would be aiding and betting, obstruction of justice, again, performing acts of vigilanteism, and I'm sure there's plenty more where that came from."

"You're getting real close to making a new enemy, John. Watch it."

"I think you need to watch it. I may not have enough to send you all to prison, but I know for a fact I've got enough for just one of you," John states, his eyes traveling back to you. "All that grey area, Sam? Mistakes get made. Assets get lost. Tell me, Sam, how much convincing do you think it'll take for the UN to take back what's rightfully theirs? To take back their property?"

"She is not their property," Bucky sneers, speaking through gritted teeth and with a glare that could kill on its own.

John takes another step toward you, ignoring the daggers Bucky stares at him. "She belongs to -"

Just as John's about to approach you, Bucky pulls you behind him, "You touch her and I'll kill you."

"Whoa," you slowly exhale, your hands coming to rest on your hips as you feel a furious blush creeping up your cheeks. "I'm sorry, I think I just hallucinated."

"Not the time," Sam hisses under his breath.

"Right," you clear your throat, shaking your head to clear the sudden haze coating your thoughts. "Um...what were we talking about again?"

Sam throws his hands up in the air in exasperation. "Great, you broke her!"

"Even more reason she should come with me," John repeats, reaching out to grab you.

Bucky grabs John's hand before he even touches you, he sneers, "If you want to keep that hand, I'd suggest you keep it to yourself."

"Okay, now you're doing it on purpose," you playfully accuse, hoping that Bucky can't hear the way your heart rate just spiked.

"Seriously not the time," Sam sharply admonishes. 

"Right, right," you quickly agree. "Are you guys done? Can we talk like adults now?"

"Bucky," Sam interjects, stepping in between the two men. "This doesn't solve anything."

You put your hand on Bucky's shoulder. His eyes flicker to you, his gaze finally softening. "He's baiting you. I'm not going anywhere. He knows that."

"You sure about that?" John chuckles, resting the shield against one of the pillars. "How about I put down the shield, Sam? Make it fair?"

Just as you're about to intervene, a spear flies through the air, cracking the pillar the shield rests on. You look in the direction of the weapon to see a single member of the Dora Milaje suddenly in the corner of the room. 

You all collectively look at the doorway with the single member of the Dora, glaring at you with a stone faced expression. Bucky's face drops as the sound of boots thumping against the ground in perfect cohesion fills the room. 

A recognizable face appears through the doorway bringing a pleasant smile to your face. "Ayo! I haven't seen you guys in forever."

Ayo's gaze shifts to you for a moment, and though it's a little hard to tell, you see a hint on her otherwise stoic expression, "Always causing trouble, aren't you?"

You chuckle. "What else what I do with my time?"

John clears his throat, taking a step toward Ayo with an extended hand. "Hi, John Walker. Captain America." His hand remains in the air for another moment, only for the moment to be completely unreciprocated by Ayo. He awkwardly drops his hand, "Well, let's just put the pointy stick things down and we can talk about this, huh?"

"They're actually called spears, John," you wryly inform him, taking another step back away John. "But you go."

John shows no hesitation when taking another step toward the Dora. You cringe at John and Lemar. You lean closer to Sam and Bucky, quietly muttering, "I got five on Ayo."

"Take it easy, John," Sam advises. "You might wanna fight Bucky before you tangle with the Dora Milaje."

"The Dora Milaje don't have jurisdiction here," John firmly states. 

"The Dora Milaje have jurisdiction wherever the Dora Milije find themselves to be," Ayo forcefully retorts. 

"Okay," John chuckles, slightly backtracking, "Look, I think we got off on the wrong foot."

But John's words a cut off with the blunt end of the spear to his face. You audibly wince at the sickening sound of John's face taking what you know has to be a painful blow. 

"We should do something," Sam mutters, the three of you watching the chaos ensue from beside the couch.

"Looking strong, John," Bucky sarcastically remarks, his arms proudly crossed across his chest. 

"Yes!" you exclaim, giving Bucky a thumbs up. "There's the positivity I'm looking for! Go Ayo!"

Sam puts his hand on your shoulder, silently shaking his head as he mouths, "No."

You innocently shrug, "What?" 

"Bucky..." Sam cajoles. 

Just as Ayo has the pointed tip of her spear in John's face, Bucky huffs and reluctantly helps John. Bucky grabs the spear before it makes impact and tries to pry it from her grip. "Ayo, let's talk about this."

"I should stay out of this," you mutter to yourself as Sam rushes in to assist Lemar. "I'm going to stay out of this."

But as you see all four men getting overtaken and overwhelmed by the Dora Miliaje, you defeatedly sigh to yourself, "I'm not going to stay out of this. Am I?"

Just as you take a step toward the fight, you notice someone missing from the room. And now that you think about it, a voice that hadn't interjected anything sarcastic or with the intention of instigating more turmoil. 

Zemo was gone. 

You scan the room, craning your neck to look over the fight. That's when you notice the bathroom door slightly ajar. 

Without a sound, you slowly creep backward. With no one even paying attention to you, you're able to quietly pad to the open door without being spotted.

You slip in through the bathroom door without pushing it any further open to see the bathtub slid from it's normal position to reveal an escape tunnel. And to find Zemo stepping down into the hole. 

He freezes, his shoulders slumping when he hears you clear your throat from behind him. You can tell by the lack of his signature quick remarks and antagonizing smirk that you've genuinely caught him off guard. 

He remains turned away from you, frozen in anticipation of whatever action you'll take to stop him.

It doesn't come.

Instead, you gently state, "You know they're not just going to let you walk, right? They'll come for you."

"I know," he solemnly murmurs. 

"Zemo?" you prompt, taking a step away from the makeshift tunnel and back towards the door. His head turns to look at you over his shoulder. His eyes widen as he finds you shuffling away from him. "It was nice working with you. Mostly."

"You are more than I expected," he offers in return. "I'm...pleasantly surprised."

"High praise coming from you."

"Don't get me wrong, I'd still kill you if I had the chance," he jokes, or at least you think he's joking. 

You snicker, "Maybe next time."

"Thank you," he whispers as he slips down into the tunnel and out of sight. 

You take a breath as you watch him leave. This was another facet of your new life. You didn't trust yourself anymore. You didn't trust your moral compass to tell you the difference between right and wrong anymore. Rationally, you knew what you did was wrong. Letting Zemo go.

It was something you'd done before. John wasn't lying about that. You did let Bucky go. 

But you also knew the things Zemo had done - all of his own volition. 

You took comfort in the fact that you didn't really let him go. You were right, Bucky and the Wakandans would never just let him walk away. 

All you really did was give him a little time. You had a sneaking suspicion about where he was going. And you decided that like everyone else, Zemo also deserved a chance to say goodbye. 

You shake away the conflicted feeling, pulling on your best shocked expression as you bolt into the room to deliver the news of Zemo's escape. Without the mention of you aiding and abetting that escape. 

Your announcement is cut off by a loud metallic clang reverberating through the room. Your eyes widen as you find Bucky's arm now on the ground, followed by the look of despair and bewilderment on Bucky's face. 

You shake away the sadness you feel for Bucky in that moment to call through the room, "Guys, Zemo's gone."

Ayo sharply turns away from Bucky, striding past you to kick the bathroom door fully open. She lets out an angry breath when she sees Zemo's intricately planned escape route. 

She turns to the Dora standing behind you, "He is gone."

Ayo turns to the member of the Dora Milaje that stands over a defeated John Walker with the shield in her hands. She sharply shakes her head, "Leave it."

As they march out of the room, Bucky bends down to pick up his arm as he tries to process the fact that they'd always kept a fail safe on him. That, like he always suspected, no one ever really trusted him. 

"Did you know it could do that?" Sam asks.

"No," Bucky exhales, circling his arm back in place. 

"You alright man?" Lemar asks, crouching down to help John.

"They weren't even..." he trails off. 

For just a split second, you start to feel bad for John. But in the next moment, the expression on his face changes, darkens to something more sinister. His eyes snap over to you. "You."

You recoil away from him. "What did I do?"

"John," Lemar warns, glancing at the angry faces of Sam and Bucky. "Maybe let's leave it alone."

He shares a tense look with Lemar. After a moment, John nods. As he rises to his feet, he maintains a rage-filled, threatening glare with you. "You'll get what's coming to you. You'll all get what's coming to you."

Sam pulls you back and closer to the two of them as John stands and picks up the shield from the floor.

No one says a word as John storms out of the room with Lemar in tow. Sam moves to examine the bathroom escape route as the front door slams shut. Sam shakes his head, muttering, "I can't believe he El Chapo-ed his way out of here."

"I can," Bucky replies. 

For a few seconds, a heavy silence fills the room.

You're not sure what you're supposed to do anymore. You remain conflicted on your actions earlier as both Sam and Bucky stand in shock at Zemo's escape. You also don't like the fact that John has so much to hold over your head.

It's too much and you find yourself struggling to figure out what the right thing to do is. All you know is that you're really tired of feeling helpless. 

And as you stand beside them, you remember Steve's advice to you:

-

"How do you do it?"

Steve looks up from the blank page he'd stared at for the better part of an hour. With Sam and Natasha gone to replenish supplies, it's just you and Steve in some derelict motel room. It's been almost a year on the run. You have no idea where you are. No idea what you're doing. You're not even really sure how you ended up here. And in spite of all of that, Steve still holds his head up high. He's still calm, collected. You've all lost everything and he takes it in stride.

You can see it weighing on him. And at the same time, it doesn't. He still believes that the world is good, still fights for the things he believes in with everything he has. He offers you a tight smile. "You know, I was just about to ask you the same thing."

You look at his strangely, a huff of a laugh leaving your mouth. "I'm not doing anything. I'm just... here."

He vehemently shakes his head, repeatedly tapping his pen on the notepad, "You don't give yourself enough credit. What you did... it was really brave. And I know it was hard for you."

"I'd do it again if I had to." You shrug. "Except for the Tony shooting me part. I wouldn't do that again."

"You just did it again," Steve points out.

"What?"

"Made everything feel brighter."

"A joke will do that," you easily reply.

He shakes his head. "It wasn't the joke."

You softly smile. "Thanks, Steve."

"I know this wasn't what we planned, but I really do believe it'll all work itself out."

You anxiously twist your fingers as you try to broach a topic you'd thought about relentlessly. You could see your friends losing themselves. You knew it because so were you.

Some days, you all looked so tired, so weathered from a year of constantly moving and fighting. Some days, you were all so angry, with each other, with the circumstances. On those days, the wind could blow in the wrong direction and it would set off an entire day of yelling and bickering with each other.

You saw less and less of Sam's signature goofy grin with each passing day. Nat was getting more anxious, more paranoid with every glance over her shoulder. Wanda had confided in you her desire to not come back from her trips with Vision and with each trip, you grew less and less sure that she'd come back. It seemed like every day was a new breaking point.

"There are ways we could end this. Without giving up Bucky. You'd get to go home. Figure things out with the team," you hesitantly broach.

"Like by signing the Accords?" Steve chortles, resting the notebook on the table.

"I don't think there's a person in the world that could get you to sign the Accords," you chuckle. "But...you could cut a deal."

He snorts. "It'd have to be one hell of a deal." He thinks over your words for a moment and it occurs to him that you didn't say 'we' when you talked about going home. It takes a moment for the realization to settle in. For your offer to fully sink in. "You can't be serious."

"Just think about it."

His entire face furrows with anger. "No! I won't think about it. And you shouldn't either."

You reach over the table to grasp Steve's hand. You look at him with an expression that begs him to really think about your situation realistically, "They were never going to let me go, Steve. You know that. Even if we all make it back, they'll find something, if it's not this, it'll be something else. You know they will. And I- I can't run the rest of my life, but you guys, you guys could go back home. Enjoy your lives."

Steve gently squeezes your hand, dropping it after a moment, "And what do you think Sam would say if he heard you right now? If he heard you offering up your life so we could go back? Do you honestly think he'd ever agree to a deal that locked you away for good?"

You open your mouth, only to close it again when you find yourself unable to respond to Steve's questions. Instead, you offer, "Sam would have his family back. He'd understand."

"I don't think he would. I don't think he'd ever forgive me. Or you. And even if he could, that's not a deal any of us are ever going to make."

"Four lives for one isn't a bad deal." 

"No matter what anyone else say, you are not some pawn. You're not a bargaining chip," Steve enunciates. "You're a person. We come home together or not at all."

"And if we can't?"

"Then we fight. Together. Just like always."

You slump back down in your seat. You shake your head at Steve's unfailing moral beliefs. You admired that about him, how he always seemed so sure of himself, how he could always tell right from wrong. You found yourself losing touch with that part of yourself lately. You acquiesce with a sigh, "How do you do it?"

He shrugs. "I don't know. You- you bend when you can, snap when you have to."

-

As Steve's words echo through your head, you abruptly announce, "I'll be right back."

"And where are you going?" Sam questions. 

"I'm going to go talk to them," you breezily say. "Open communication, you know?"

"Please don't," Bucky exhales. 

"You're gonna go talk to the guy that just threatened to kidnap you?" Sam deadpans, hoping you'll hear how ridiculous that sounds. 

"Is it still called kidnapping if I'm not actually a kid?" you wonder. 

"I dunno, but the point stands. It's a terrible idea!" Sam exclaims. "What if he just, I don't know, decides to snatch you up off the street?"

"I'm a little offended that you don't think I could defend myself against John," you retort.

"Or you could just say, 'Sam, you're so right! That's a terrible idea. Thank you for always looking out for me and having my best interest in mind'," Sam says, pitching up his voice to imitate you. 

"Oh, come on," you dramatically complain. "You can't honestly think that I actually sound like that."

"I'm being serious."

"Me too. Just give 5 minutes. I'll be quick."

"Fine," Sam reluctantly agrees with a grimace.

"You've got five minutes," Bucky repeats, finally breaking his silence. 

"Great," you beam, ignoring the probing look on Bucky's face that tells you he's not going to let anything John said go, and turning on your heels to scamper out the door without another word. You quickly dart out onto the streets, scanning the area for John and Lemar. You see them only a few yards down the way. "John!"

He turns around at the sound of your voice. The burning rage is gone from his expression, instead he greets with a challenging expression and a condescending smirk. You can't help but think that maybe Bucky is right, because there's definitely something a little unhinged with John Walker. "I won't lie, I'm a little shocked they let you out of their sight."

You brush off the snide comment, walking down the steps onto the cobblestone road. Even as you speak, you keep a wide grin on your face. "John? I want you to know, I'm really a very nice person. I am. And I know people who say that usually aren't, but really I am. Steve Rogers nicknamed me Sunshine, I mean if that doesn't tell you what kind of person I am, I don't know what will... But anyway, I know how it looks, and in spite of what anyone thinks, I don't take orders from anyone anymore."

"Not even Sam or Bucky?" he scoffs.

"Not even Sam or Bucky. They have my loyalty, they don't need my obedience."

"Then you should really-"

"Uh," you condescendingly tut, cutting him off. You hear Steve's words echo in your head again: bend when you can, snap when you have to. And you'd just about had it with people steamrolling over you. "I wasn't done talking. It seems like you really want to get to know me, so I'll give you a fun fact, just as a show of good faith: I play nice because I want to play nice. You should remember that."

"Was that a threat?"

"A threat?" you incredulously laugh. "No! Of course not! I wouldn't do that. My nickname is Sunshine! I'm a very sunny person." Then as quickly as you picked up your normal, optimistic personality, it drops from your expression. Your voice drops, weighed down by the threatening undertone of your words, "So don't be an Icarus, John, and we'll get along just fine."

"You know, you're not the only one with threats!" John calls as you turn away from him. 

You smile to yourself, turning around to face John once again. "I know I don't know you that well, but I don't doubt that you're a smart man, John. So go ahead. Call the U.N. Call General Ross, I'll even give you his number. Do it. I dare you. But if you ever threaten my friends again, I'll take care of you myself... And unlike you, I don't need the U.N. to do that."

"Who do you think you are?" John grits.

"Leave my friends alone, John. I won't ask again," you tell him, ignoring his question. You lightly clapping a hand on his shoulder with a beaming grin. "I'm so glad we had this chat! See you guys around!"

You turn and walk away, leaving a bewildered, seething, and slightly stunned John Walker in your wake.

The Twin Flame Chapter List AnonymityIsFun Masterlist

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[dove00]

CW Flash Rewrite

Hi! I wanted to try and do a cw The Flash rewrite. I acknowledge I am not a writer. This is just for fun!

I own nothing DC owns. Warning for child abuse mention (Wally’s past). Please let me know if more warnings are needed. Stay safe and enjoy!

This is going up to a season 1 mid season finale. I really did like how they cut the main villain into arcs A and B with A being stopped in some way in mid season finale. The B villain is Thawne and the A villains are the rogues.

Rogues of Season 1A: Captain Cold, Heatwave, Golden Glider, Pied Piper (who’s a bit younger, maybe 16-17, recently kicked out by parents)

Okay. Barry still goes to Starling but comes back to his fiancé Iris West. As awesome as WestAllen is and their journey, I’d think it’d be better to start here because reasons you’ll see.

Barry and Iris are planning stuff for the wedding and Iris is nervous because her brothers haven’t RVSP yet. Her brothers, Rudy and Daniel, don’t have a close bond but Joe isn’t abusive. They just don’t see each other enough. Barry is aware Iris has nephews (Wally and Wallace) but has never met them.

Barry gets struck by lightning and is in a coma for 9 months. He wakes up in a hospital and they tel him what happen but to him, they talk very slowly. He shakes it off. Iris is called and picks him up. She waited for him but she has news. Her nephews have been placed in her custody.

Barry freaks out and then realized everything stops. Barry sees Iris still and the world the same. Good thing, too, because a driver is going to hit them. Barry grabs Iris and pulls her out of the car and he gets a look at the driver and bam! Normal time starts again. Iris stares at him and he stares back. “Oh, fu—“

The driver keeps going but Barry recognizes him. Leonard Snart.

Iris is confused and Barry said, “I think I’m like Jay Garrick.” Iris nods. She knows about his favorite comic book character (the one who got him through his parents’ tragedy).

She has to go to work so Barry runs her to work and promises to pick up Wally and Wallace from high school and elementary school.

Iris is a reporter already at Central City Picture News (not the Citizen yet) so she does some investigating (even sometimes using one of the intern’s comic books) when news of a bank robbery is happening. A bank robbery where the guy has an ice gun.

Barry…isn’t doing so good. He shows up in his car, that he ran home to grab and then rushed to Wally’s school—meaning he was late. Wally stared and then got in the front seat. Barry tries to make small talk but Wally isn’t really responding. They’re even later picking up Wallace. He apologized but Wallace doesn’t talk to him either. Wally is 16 and Wallace is 7. They make it to Barry and Iris’ house and that’s when he sees the news.

Barry is so used to going to crime scenes after—maybe he can stop one before anyone gets hurt. He runs upstairs and grabs what his teen self created as cosplay of the flash and changes.

He hears a “woah.” And turns to see Wally.

“No time to explain. Watch your cousin. Back in a flash.”

Barry and Cold have a cool (ha!) fight and Barry wins.

Episode ends with Iris and Barry kissing.

The rest of arc 1A is finding the other rogues and Barry and Iris taking care of Wally and Wallace. Wally is hesitant to trust Barry but eventually he wins Wally over. At one point, Rudy West and the Manhunters kidnap Wally two episodes before mid season finale (two episode arc) and Barry is trying to save him and come to terms with the fact that he sees Wally as his son.

They save him but he was hit by lightning too. He doesn’t end up in a coma for very long (a week) and finds out he has powers. They train but Barry is hesitant to let Wally into the field.

Mid season finale has Barry almost losing to the fully formed Rogues when Wally comes in and helps him out. They save the day and Wally recognizes Piper from school. They don’t talk much as the season will show with Wally in school sometimes but Hartley’s story is pretty popular at school—especially for bullies. Wally tries to shut it down when he can but it’s not like they’re friends. He tries to stop the cops from arresting them (he has nobody to bail him out) but Barry pulls him back, whispering “we’ll help him but we have to protect our identities first.”

Wally looks hesitant and then nervous as we see Iris come into the scene but before she can speak a voice calls out, “Flash…um…Younger Flash!” Iris turns and it’s the intern who had comics. “Linda Park, CCPN…intern. Can I have a statement on tonight’s events?” Again, Wally remembers her from school. Linda Park writes for the school newspaper. She’s in four of Wally’s classes—not that he’s aware of that. Nope. She continued, “Why is Hartley Rathaway working with…um…rogues? Oh, yeah! That’s a good name.”

Wally frowns. “It’s complicated. Not that you’d understand.” Then he rushes away.

“Is…is that your statement?” She asked Barry, who shrugs then runs too.

“Do you need a ride home, Linda?”

“Yes, please.”

Look, I wanna see WallyLinda but I also wanna see them grow!

Mid season ends with a blonde man coming through a portal. Running through a portal.

That’s all I’ve got. Hope you liked it. Let me know if you’d like more!

#dc comics #the flash #flash family #barry allen #iris west #iris west allen #westallen #wally west #wallace west #ace west #flash rogues #linda park #wallylinda #wallinda

[charmixpower]

Hi, I'm going to ramble about what I'm currently doing bc I need to talk about it

Sooo i am going to draw the Nymphs of Magix's. I found these beautiful back stage photos of a fashion show and imma use them as a reference to draw Daphne and her girls all chilling

There's just one small problem, in my au~headcanons fairy magic works best in even numbers (half to contrast witches who get odd numbers, half because i wanna make the strongest shape in Fairy magic a circle). So it would make the most sense for me to only draw eight Nymphs, but that might look nonsensical to anyone who doesn't know my headcanons when there's supposed to be nine

And their court/circle needs like a name, like I don't think Daphne would assume she's going to achieve Nymphood that certainly to the point where she calls her group Nymphs. This one is fine because I just learned that there were groups of Nymphs in myth and I might just snatch one of their names, as a little nod without outright stating it (like how Daphne is named after a Nymph. In universe she wasn't named because she was going to be a Nymph, it's a coincidence. They're actually just naming themselves after stars, the fact it's also a mythological group of Nymphs wasn't intentional by the characters) Like? When they were just stating off what did they yell during transformations?? I'm thinking Asteriae for a group name, Nymphs of Magix being a later epithet bestowed upon them as of acquiring Nymphix

Naming them after the stars when their whole thing is protecting the whole dimension is a cute little refrence I think. Plus Daphne could of named it because she wanted her group to travel the dimension, and it ended up more about protecting the entire universe

I know the comics/later seasons maybe??? Imply that the nine nymphs is a existing body that people become a part of but that sounds boring to me?? Like Nymphood is so easy to achieve you always have nine on hand? I want Daphne and her friends to be perticually exceptional due to the perticually dyer times/circumstances their forced to deal with. Aka the ancestral witches beginning to launch their attack on the magix's dimension, and the girlies speed running the most powerful transformation bc if they don't the universe is gonna be fucking dead

Anyways adding or not adding that ninth nymph is bothering me, and I have to design the other Nymphs AHHHHHH

Hmmm I think I'm not gonna add the ninth one, half because headcanons and half because my references only have like 6 interesting poses that I can add into the same drawing and adding three more is going to be daunting ndnwnen two is more manageable. Plus theirs only like eight bright distinct colors??, black and white being grouped together into one design??? Hmmm yes

Oki, that's enough rambling

Bye 💕💞

#rus chatters

[serenailith]

yesterday’s gone (we’ll make it through)—xxx

on ao3 here

previous | next

warnings: comic spoilers

Hob comes back to himself an indeterminate amount of time later. His face is pressed to Dream’s thigh, and he’s curled tightly into a ball. His head feels floaty, hazy. Exhaling slowly, he reaches up with one hand to wipe at his eyes. A hand buries in his hair, fingers scratching lightly at his scalp, and Hob lets out a low groan at the sensation, at the shivers running down his spine from the touch.

“How are you faring?”

And that voice, the one he hasn’t heard in a week, brings with it a rush of emotions. Anger at Dream having been gone so long without word, relief that he’s here and not in Hell, thankful and grateful and everything between that Dream has come back. Hob thinks that if Dream hadn’t, he would be having some words with Death, and it wouldn’t have ended well.

Sliding a hand along Dream’s bare leg, over the knob of his knee and halfway up his thigh, Hob breathes in deeply. The air smells of petrichor, cedar, and sandalwood. The sheets twist around his nude body when he finally pulls away to stretch out the muscles of his back, and he pushes himself onto his elbows. Dream is scrutinising him when Hob finally meets his gaze.

“I’m fine,” Hob murmurs before sitting up properly. “How long was I out?”

“It was only four hours.”

Hob nods slowly then shifts to recline against the headboard. “You were gone for a week.”

“I know, and I owe you many apologies for that.”

Dream’s fingers flex as if he wants to touch Hob but is refraining. Hob aches to bridge the distance, but something in him won’t allow him to. He swallows the residual pain that lingers, acidic and hot beneath the surface. He’d truly thought Dream was dead or, even worse, trapped in Hell. He doesn’t know for certain, but Hob can imagine that death would be easier to handle than captivity again.

“You want to tell me what kept you?” he asks quietly, turning his gaze to the dark window.

“I will.”

And Dream does. Hob listens as he explains: He’d gone to Hell to retrieve Nada only to find the realm barren. No demons, no prisoners, nothing remained but Lucifer themself. Dream’s confusion had only grown when the Morningstar didn’t punish him for daring to enter Hell. In fact, they had given him the key and walked away.

“I spent days with delegations all vying for ownership of Hell,” Dream says; he finally gathers his courage and reaches for Hob’s hand. Hob forces himself to not pull away. He needs the touch even through the anger. “Demons, angels, fey, Odin. . . They all attempted to bribe and coerce and trick me into giving them the key.”

“Who did you give it to?”

“Two angels, one of silence and the other of hope and those who rise. They guard Hell now.”

“But. . . Where did Lucifer go? I doubt they’re just going to walk away for good without a fight.”

Dream remains quiet for a moment, head tilted. “You may be right, but for the moment, they are not a concern. What is a concern is that I made you fear for me. It truly was never my intention.”

“Did you. . . Did you find Nada?”

“Yes, I did. She was held within Azazel.”

“W—within?”

“Within. Azazel was a co-ruler of Hell, a part of a triumvirate along with Lucifer and Beelzebub. It had taken Nada captive as part of its demand for the keys to Hell.”

“Did you consider giving it the keys?”

“It was tempting,” Dream said slowly, clearly weighing his words. “But to do so would have courted disaster. So he dared me to retrieve its hostages from within. In its anger, it forgot I held the power. It forgot I was the power.”

Dream imprisoned Azazel for its hostility, its attempts to destroy Dream in his own realm. Nada was released from the former djinn’s grip, and Hell was given to the angels. Hob clenches his hands into fists as he asks after her well-being, what’s happened to her.

“I granted her the boon of a second life in the Waking, the chance to experience a full existence with a better ending.”

Hob can only nod. He hadn’t realised Dream was capable of that. He pushes the questions aside and lets out a slow breath. Dream had done exactly what he said he would. It took longer than Hob had hoped. The first day had been hard, and it only grew more difficult the longer Dream was gone. Time crawled until Hob could only believe Dream was dead. That he wasn’t coming back.

But he’s here. He is here, and Hob needs only to list to the side to rest his head on Dream’s shoulder. He does exactly that. No words need spoken now, not with the absence explained and apologies given. Hob scrubs a hand over his face and marvels at how Dream has changed since their last meeting in 1889. Then, he’d been too proud, even with watery eyes at the implication he was something so mundane as lonely, but now he is cognisant of humanity to apologise when he’s done wrong or hurt Hob in some way.

“I truly love you more than words, dear heart, to the ends of the universe,” Dream whispers, and Hob chokes back the tears. He will never tire of hearing those words. “I beg of you your forgiveness.”

“I forgive you. All I ask is for some sort of warning if you’re gonna be gone for a long period of time.”

“Of course.”

Hob sighs quietly, a long exhale that causes his tense muscles to finally relax fully, then turns his head to brush a kiss to Dream’s shoulder. Dream is alive, and he’s home. Hob’s anger has reduced to a simmer, though he can feel it stuttering out like a candle losing its flame. He won’t forget this, he knows it. He will always remember the anguish he’s gone through, thinking he’s lost another great love, but unlike Eleanor, unlike Robyn. . . Dream has survived. He came back.

Hob’s body moves of its own volition. His hand comes up to cradle Dream’s jaw, turns Dream’s head, and he leans up to press his lips to Dream’s. A soft breath escapes at the contact. He’s missed this–the taste of Dream’s kiss, the scent that emanates from his cool pale skin, the tenderness in his touch. It’s second nature to fall headfirst into everything that Dream is.

A slender hand pushes against his shoulder, and Hob lets Dream pin him to the mattress. Dream slots their bodies together, easy as breathing, and nips at Hob’s lower lip. Before Hob can think clearly, Dream slides away. His knees press to the side of Hob’s shins; Hob gasps aloud as fingers wrap around his cock and start stroking him methodically. Dream swipes his thumb over the head with a slight smile on his face.

It isn’t smug. It’s too soft, sweet, as if he lives for the sounds that fill the air. Hob falls that much more in love even as his hips jerk upward.

The second Dream takes him in his mouth, Hob loses all ability of proper thinking. His hands clench into fists at his side; he worries that if he doesn’t cling to the bedsheets, he will cling to Dream’s hair and potentially hurt him. Dream has other plans: He reaches up with one hand and grabs Hob’s wrist.

Well, how is Hob meant to ignore the permission? His fingers slip through soft hair, twisting the locks in his grip, and he squeezes his eyes closed when Dream hollows his cheeks, slowly pulls back. A low whine bursts forth from Hob’s throat when Dream releases him.

“Would you allow me to love you the way you have loved me many times over?” he asks softly.

It takes Hob a few seconds to understand what Dream is really asking. The thought sends his head spinning. He hasn’t been on the receiving end in over a decade, not since he lived in a small villa on the Italian coast.

It had been with a young man named Mattia with beautiful olive skin and deep brown eyes. He was the complete opposite of Hob’s type, of his dreams, which had been exactly what Hob was looking for at the time. He’d spent too many years pining after dark hair and starburst-blue eyes.

Mattia had been an attentive lover, but looking back, Hob knows it wasn’t what he needed.

This, though. . . The feeling of his cock in a cool mouth with a lover waiting for an answer is perfect.

Hob nods and stretches toward the bedside table. Dream huffs out a laugh when Hob flails once, twice, four times before managing to tug open the drawer. The bottle is easily found since it’s the only thing inside, and he nearly throws it to Dream in his rush. Another hot breath of laughter, but Hob can’t focus on anything other than the click of the bottle cap. The fire in his nerves as they coil tighter and tighter, the rush of burning need flushing through his entire being. The slick finger slipping between his arsecheeks to probe carefully at his hole.

He groans as the suction on his cock grows stronger, though nothing distracts from the pressure against his entrance. Dream’s hand stills as he pulls away.

“Relax, beloved,” he murmurs into the skin over Hob’s hip. “I will take care of you.”

Hob brushes his fingertips over Dream’s forehead, the only part of him he can reach. “I–I know, love. I trust you. It’s just. . . It’s been a while.”

“As you said to me, I have ‘got you, my love’.”

The fact Dream remembers something Hob said, something Hob doesn’t even recall saying at any point, does something funny to Hob’s insides. The warmth filling his chest has nothing to do with the fact Dream suddenly swallows him down to the root, though that certainly plays a part in it. Hob draws in a steadying breath and focuses on the wet heat around his cock and releasing the tension in his body.

When Dream finally pushes into him minutes later, Hob nearly sobs. Tears prickle at his eyes at the sensation of feeling full, feeling right. Dream moves slowly, carefully, as if afraid to hurt Hob. Hob, for his part, appreciates the gentleness and consideration. He knows he’s already going to be sore in the morning, but this will be worth any amount of pain, he thinks.

He hooks a leg around the back of Dream’s and pulls him closer. Dream’s lips twitch before a smile overtakes his face, and he leans down to bestow upon Hob an overwhelming, breath-stealing kiss. Hob loops his arms around his love’s neck, moaning at a particularly deep thrust.

Dream takes it as permission; his hips snap forward harder and faster. When he pulls away, his hands immediately fall to Hob’s knees as he fucks into Hob with fervour. Hob wonders if this is what it felt like for Dream, this all-consuming need and desire that burns him from the inside out. Was it just as phenomenal? Awe-inspiring?

As he watches Dream’s face, the way his blue eyes darken with lust, his lips parting on silence, Hob realises Mattia would never have compared to this being currently buried deep inside of Hob. Even if he weren’t immortal, Hob could never not have wanted Dream.

Three strokes to his cock, and Hob comes with Dream’s name on his lips.

Just the way it should always be.

#the sandman #dream of the endless #hob gadling #dream of the endless x hob gadling #dream x hob #dreamling #my writing #yesterday's gone

[the1northlanderprincess]

Thoughts on the Multiverse of Madness

As promised, I’m going to give a little review about Multiverse of Madness! Or, rather, a breakdown of what I thought was good, and wasn’t so good. 

The Good

The fact that the plot was built around love and relationships was AWESOME. Not many comic book movies have seen that.

The acting. 

Okay, Benedict is amazing. We knew that was always the case. But to do what he did, playing four different versions of Stephen that you’re able to tell apart? Talk about talented. His facial expressions and tone inflections were incredible. His voice for Sinister Strange was really neat. There was something about the pitch that I can’t quite put my finger on. It’s kind of cool and fidgety; a little creepy, which I think is what it’s supposed to be like. And he gave quite the menacing expression. Gosh, I could do a whole subcategory on facial expressions. Like, the way he looked so torn while looking at the memory. And then his steadfastness when he professed his love.

Elizabeth Olsen. Ladies and gentlemen, this woman is a superstar. Seriously. She got to really exercise her acting skills in this movie. She was demure and sweet, but was able to turn cruel and calculating on a dime. Her expressions when she was playing full-on Scarlet Witch...whooo, boy. Micro-acting for days. I hope she does more of these kinds of serious roles.

Rachel McAdams was excellent, though I wish there was a bit more of a variation between the two Christines. I think the issue was that there were only a few minutes of screentime for 616!Christine. I’ve never been able to get a good read on her. She seems to be a little aloof. 838!Christine is more businesslike, no-nonsense...most likely because she was hurt by Supreme Strange’s actions. Rachel’s subtleness 838!Christine’s transition from untrusting our Stephen to slowly warming up to him and caring about his well-being was seamless and believable. The fierceness in her voice as Christine was urging Stephen to fight was just SO powerful. It was one of my favorite acting scenes in the movie. Then, as I mentioned in my meta, her facial features as Stephen declares his love for Christine were the best. She goes from shocked to flattered to something bittersweet. Amazing scene all around.

The music battle was pretty sweet. It was super creative. I appreciated it as a music minor. I wonder what made Sam Raimi want to do it. Perhaps it was a nod to Stephen’s love of music in the first film. I will say, though, it was a bit long-winded.

Speaking of music, major points to the editor for matching up the end credit titles of Rachel with softer notes.

Stephen purposefully antagonizing Mordo was absolutely hilarious. That whole scene was.

All things Wong! Especially when trying to instruct Stephen on how to act when Wanda comes to Kamar-Taj. 

Zombie!Defender scene. Though kind of freaky, it was really cool to see Stephen flex his sorcery skills. And that speech to America...

The not-so-good

It was a little too short. I didn’t feel as if enough things were developed. The first movie had about the same time limit, but it was plenty, since it was an introductory movie. This one had a lot going on, but was really fast paced. I think it could have handled at least another 15 minutes. More could have been added with the wedding, I feel. 

The soundtrack was a bit lacking; not as memorable as Michael Giacchino’s awesomeness. 

The trip through the multiverses was way too long. I felt a little like Stephen (well, not really). 

I’d like a bit more explanation on the titles of Defender and Supreme Strange.

The Illuminati massacre. That was, uh, something. I’m not one who goes for gore, specifically with what happened to Captain Carter and Blackbolt. 

The third eye, with both Stranges. I know it’s a thing in the comics, but it gave me the heebie-jeebies, especially at the end when Stephen gets it.

Whatever that was with Clea. Why did she come to 616? Last time I checked, Sinister Strange’s universe was the one with the incursion. I know he was offed by Stephen, so maybe she thinks he can help explain...? I don’t know, but it didn’t seem cohesive, even for a post-credit scene.

Overall, it was a mostly fun film. It’s not as good or solid as Doctor Strange, but it was still enjoyable. I know there have been some people who complained that it wasn’t multiverse-y enough. I think there was the right amount. My brother actually was concerned before the movie that it would be too much. He is of the opinion that, after No Way Home, Marvel was going to jump right into the Multiverse way too fast. I don’t think that’s the case yet. I’m actually kind of looking forward to Love and Thunder.

#palmerstrange #dr. strange #multiverse of madness