#anyway let's all try and be respectful pieces of shit alright?

[lust4liyah]

*hides behind hands* I KNOW HOW LONG ITS BEEN YALL I AM SOO SORRY :(((( uni has been kicking my ass for a while but im back and still deeply in L word with miguel!!! here's an apology 4 being gone 4 SO LONG, a lot of y'all rlly wanted body worship so here that is!

not proofread! contains; chubby! fem! reader, insecure thoughts, body image, unprotected sex, praise, public sex, body worship, mirror sex, creampie, sir kink if u squint, rlly soft sex, WAY longer than it needed it to be.

it happens during your off day. you're out shopping with miguel at the mall, dragging him here and there to get cute little outfits and other things miguel swears you don't need. you're at the end of your list of stores, and quite frankly the store miguel's been looking forward to the most, the lingerie store.

you're excited to try on all the cute pieces you see! you're grabbing anything that catches your eyes and miguel looks alive for once as he watches you do so, even going so far as to recommend a few sets.

you take all the sets you're interested in, thank the pretty lady lazily watching over the dressing rooms, and head inside. you were excited at first, you really were. who doesn't love to try on new clothes? but once you get in one of the farther dressing rooms to try on the cute lace sets miguel had suggested, your confidence is shot.

you turn in the mirror, uncomfortable with what you see in the reflection. you're chubby, that was a fact that you wore proudly. you've always loved your body, never thought it was something you needed to change or be ashamed of, until now. you feel gross in this set, the lace not fitting right and not flattering your curves the way you hoped. you try on the next few sets, feeling worse and worse each time.

you're on the verge of tears when you try on the last set, a pretty red mesh one with a bow right between your breasts. you look at yourself and feel nothing but disgust, tears pooling in the corner of your eyes as you frustratedly tug at the material around your body. you hated feeling like this, like your body was less than it was, but gosh, you couldn't help it.

maybe it was the way your flesh peeked from the fabric, maybe it was the way your rolls showed themselves on the sides of the set, but either way, you hated what you were looking at. you hated it.

a knock on the dressing room door has you jolting in surprise, whipping your head around to stare wide-eyed at the closed door. "honey?" miguel's deep voice calls from the other side. you don't respond, and miguel, concerned by your lack of response, knocks once again.

"you in there, cariño? it's been a while, is everything alright?" miguel asks. when he doesn't receive an answer again, he starts to push the door open. "is it okay if i step in? i wanted to see how you looked". you can hear the smile in his voice and you panicked. god, you hated the mall sometimes. the doors don't close properly ever.

"wait!" you say, voice shaky. you clear your throat and try again, "don't come in." you're a mess right now and the last thing you want is for miguel to see you like this. "why not?" miguel says, clearly confused. his hand rests against the door as he respects your wishes and waits for your reply,

"is everything okay, honey? did you rip that one with the strings?" he lets out a deep chuckle. "that one looked like it would be difficult to put on anyway, mama. let's just leave it there and run out, yeah?" he attempts to joke and it pull a quiet giggle out of your mouth.

"no— it's not that. i'm okay, baby, really. i just…" you trail off and glance at the mirror again, the insecurities you're feeling rushing back at full force, "i don't like it". you're not lying, you don't like any of the sets. they made you feel like shit.

"the strings?" miguel asks dorkily and you smile sadly at the mirror. even when you felt horrible, he knew how to make you feel better. "no, baby, not the strings." you take a deep breath. "i just don't like the way i look in these sets, that's all." you finally conceded, hoping that would be the end of the conversation.

you knew miguel was persistent, though, and you wouldn't be surprised if he tried to get you to tell him exactly why you didn't like how you looked.

you didn't hear anything for a few moments and you started to hope that miguel had given up and left, but then, you hear the door handle shake and watched it twisting open in a panic. "no, wait! miguel—"

the door swings open, miguel's big body blocking the entrance. your hand falters at the failed attempt to keep the door closed and you shamefully take a step back, turning your body away from him and crossing your arms over your chest.

"cariño", miguel steps in and closes the door behind him. he walks closer and gently grasps your hips, moving you so that your back is facing the mirror and your front is pressed up against his body. "tell me what's wrong, why are those beautiful eyes of yours crying, hm?" his large hands move up your back, resting at the base of your neck and stroking the nape.

"do you not like the color? the patterns?" his eyes rake over your body. "because i think they're all very pretty".

you bite the inside of your cheek and avert your gaze, not wanting to face him. "nothing at all like that, they're all beautiful". you admit. you can feel his eyes boring into the top of your head, waiting patiently for a real answer, but you stay quiet.

"then, enlighten me for a moment", miguel starts, taking one of his hands from the back of your neck and using it to tilt your chin up. "what is it about these outfits that you don't like?"

"because, miguel," you huff out and push at his chest lightly. "they don't look good on me, okay? they just make me feel… not good. like i'm— ugh, like they just don't look good on my body." you admit, a tear falling down your face.

the sight of it breaks miguel's heart and he wipes it away with his thumb. "oh, my love," he says. he kisses your cheek. "what makes you think they don't look good on you, mama?"

"they just… don't. i'm not saying they aren't cute, they're just not for my body, i guess". you shrug and try to turn away from him again, but miguel doesn't let you.

"how could you say that about such a gorgeous body, hm?" he says, hands slowly making their way down your body. "you look stunning, cariño. borderline irresistible, and you don't like them?" miguel clicks his tongue and shakes his head in disbelief. "you have to be crazy".

you scoff, rolling your eyes. "yeah, right." you make eye contact with him and miguel's heart breaks with how broken you look. "how could you love a body like mine? it's just so— i don't know, not sexy".

you move to turn around and slip the lingerie off your body, but miguel grips your hips again, holding you in place. "look at me", he says. his voice is hard and demanding and you shiver under his grasp. "i want you to see what i see, honey girl, don't push me away." he murmurs and slowly guides your body to turn around.

"keep your eyes on the mirror, understand?" miguel says softly. you nod and keep your eyes trained on the reflection, watching him slowly caress your sides. "good girl." miguel compliments. you can't help the shiver that runs through your body at his words and his smirk widens. he loves having this effect on you.

he slowly moves his hands up and down your sides, taking his time in tracing your curves. "see that, baby?" he says and cups your breasts. "this beautiful, soft body of yours. it's fucking perfect." he squeezes them and leans down to suck a kiss into your neck. "it's made just for me." he murmurs against the skin.

you squirm in his grasp but don't take your eyes off the mirror. miguel pulls away and gives you a stern look, "are you gonna watch or do i have to make you?" he asks. he raises an eyebrow when you don't reply, and you whimper.

"n—no, sir." you stutter out. you're turned on, the feeling of his hands all over you and his dirty words not helping the growing arousal between your legs. miguel nods and returns to touching your body. he slips his hands around your waist, squeezing your love handles before bringing his hands down to cup the bottom of your tummy. he massages the flesh and sucks another hickey onto your neck.

"all of you is breathtaking, my love". he says and moves one of his hands back to the front of your body. "this tummy", he groans, one of his hands moving to squeeze the flesh of your sides. "these curves", his hand moves again, gripping the meaty flesh of your thighs and lifting the leg that isn't on the floor. "these gorgeous fucking thighs." he sighs, shuddering in pleasure as he practically gropes you.

"all of it is gorgeous, 'n' all of it is mine. can't have you talking down on what's mine, can i?" he smirks at you through the mirror. "it's just not right, honey girl."

"no, sir, i'm sorry." you whisper out. miguel smiles sweetly at you through the mirror, leaning down and pressing chaste kisses against your neck. "my sweet girl, there's nothing to apologize for. i know you get lost in that little head of yours". he says, his hands moving back up to squeeze at your breasts. "how can you not think of the way i feel about you, though? i love this body. i'm obsessed with it. would stay home 'n' play with all day if you'd let me, you know i could do it".

you did know. miguel didn't have any problems spending the whole day worshipping your body, playing with it until you were a mess, begging for him to fuck you. his favorite pastime, if he had one, would be spending the whole day in bed, making you cum on his fingers and his tongue. he's done it before, and he'd do it again if you asked.

"m'sorry, miguel." you whimper, tears pricking the corner of your eyes. you didn't know what else to say, all the praises and kind words were getting to you. you can't remember the last time someone made you feel as good as he does.

"don't apologize, baby." miguel murmurs and kisses the side of your head. "you don't have to apologize, jus' let me make you feel better, hm?" he squeezes your breast again, tweaking a nipple and grinning at the small moan that falls from your lips.

"i'll make sure all the nasty things in that head of yours go away, yeah?"

and that's how you ended up being pressed against the wall of the dressing room, miguel's hand over your mouth and his free hand groping every area of your body he can. tears of pleasure prick so prettily at your eyes and miguel revels in the fact that he's the one who caused it.

"this is what you should be crying about." miguel whispers, his lips right by your ear as he presses his hips further into you. he's relentless, his thick cock stretching you out so deliciously while he plays with your body. "should be cryin' about being fucked open on my cock, should be sobbing over how good you feel." he emphasizes his point with a hard thrust and his hands squeeze the flesh of your breasts.

"god, look at you, mi amor." miguel murmurs against your lips. "you look so fucking perfect like this, all fucked out on my cock. 'm so lucky." he presses a quick kiss to your lips and leans back up, a hand gripping your neck and his thumb stroking the underside of your jaw. he turns your face carefully to the mirror, holding you in place.

"watch me", he commands, his freehand moving down to rub tight circles around your clit. "watch me worship this perfect body. watch yourself get fucked open on my cock, and don't take your eyes off of us." his eyes are trained on the mirror, too, a dark lust swirling in them.

you nod, small whimpers and pants escaping your mouth as miguel takes his hand off your mouth. "m—miguel, baby." you whimper and throw your head back. "'m close, please, let me cum." miguel shakes his head and leans down to press a sweet kiss to your shoulder. "not yet, baby," he whispers and bites the soft flesh.

"gotta see what i see, 'n' then, i'll let you cum. sound good, honey girl?" he smirks. you whine and shake your head, but you can't help but follow his command.

he's making it hard for you to keep your eyes on the mirror, the way his cock is thrusting into you and the way his thick fingers are playing with your clit have your eyes rolling into the back of your head.

"look, baby, watch how well you're taking my cock. so perfect, 'n' all mine. look at that beautiful body of yours, taking me so well." miguel groans and kisses along the back of your neck, his lips brushing against your skin.

"that's it, baby. 's what i see when i look at you." he says. he brings his free hand up to rest against your cheek, forcing you to keep eye contact with him. "see how beautiful you look? see how sexy you are? fuck, i can't even put it into words, honey. you're perfect. every single thing about you."

your eyes start to roll into the back of your head again and miguel's hand moves back down to your pussy. "keep your eyes on me, understand? 'm not letting you cum 'till you do." he grunts and slows his thrusts, not wanting this to end just yet.

"please, miguel, i need—"

"i know what you need, baby. i know this body." he whispers and strokes his thumb across your cheek. "just a little longer, honey. you're doing so good." he praises. you do as he says, keeping your eyes on the both of you in the mirror.

you feel yourself starting to cry, and the tears are falling faster now. "that's it, baby." miguel encourages, his fingers starting to work faster against your clit. "there's that beautiful girl. see how stunning you look when you're taking my cock like the good girl you are?" he leans down and presses a soft kiss to your lips, and the tenderness of the action has you breaking out into hushed sobs.

"fuck, miguel." you whine, his lips and his words and his hands making you feel like you're on cloud nine. "thank you, thank you s'much, love you— fuck! love you, love you, love you!" you cry, the feeling of his fingers and his cock driving you insane. you're so close, just one more push and you'd be gone.

"i know, honey. 'm right here. i love you too, you and this body. love every single part of it." he murmurs. his thrusts get harder and his fingers press impossibly deeper, the feeling pushing you over the edge.

"you can cum, honey girl, 'm right here." he says, his eyes fluttering closed as he feels you tighten around him.

you let yourself go, and the feeling of miguel's body surrounding yours and his words have you spiraling into a blissful orgasm. you cry out, slapping your hand over your mouth as your body twitches, and miguel moans lowly in your ear. "there you go, that's it, cariño." he coos. he pulls his hands away from your body and pulls your hips towards his, gripping the plush skin tightly.

he thrusts his hips harder into yours, chasing his own high. "so fucking good, honey, such a perfect body." he praises. he bites your neck and comes inside you, his cum filling your cunt as his hips still against yours. "perfect," he groans out. "all of it, perfect."

the two of you are breathing hard, the air around you feeling hot and humid. miguel's sweaty body is pressed against yours, his softening cock still inside you.

and when he kisses you again, helping you settle on the bench of the dressing room while he assures the worried employee outside that everything's fine, you're left with a new mindset.

you don't mind the lingerie sets that much, they're really pretty and yeah! they do look good on you, real good.

when miguel makes a move to slip the underwear off your body and press his tongue inside you, whispering praises and warnings of silence into your body, you don't have a problem with them anymore.

not at all.

okay wow yeah this one was crazy, i rlly rlly hope u all enjoyed this one bcus i tried my very VERY hardest to do the body worship requests justice! im so sorry 4 leaving yall for practically months on end w RADIO SILENCE but i hope u all can forgive me w this teehee

#✧ ― liyah's loves #chubby reader #atsv smut #miguel o’hara #miguel o’hara smut #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o’hara x reader smut #across the spiderverse #miguel o'hara x chubby! reader #miguel smut #fem! reader #miguel x reader #miguel x reader smut #spiderverse #LONG ASS DRABBLE MY GOD #gave up on italics 4 the dialogue if u could nawt tell #im so lazy yall IM SORRY

[entiish]

    𝚃𝚑𝚎  𝙳𝚊𝚛𝚔  𝙿𝚒𝚌𝚝𝚞𝚛𝚎𝚜  𝙰𝚗𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚕𝚘𝚐𝚢                            . . .  𝙰𝚜𝚔𝚜 & 𝙿𝚛𝚘𝚖𝚙𝚝𝚜

made, as best as possible, gender neutral, taken from ‘the dark pictures anthology: man of medan’ — an interactive survival-horror video game, set on a ship but i have altered it to be location-neutral as best i can.     others from the anthology found here.

“ you think i wanted to hurt anybody? i didn't get a choice in this, did i? ”

“ you know it's not polite to ask one about their money?”

“ not a sole survivor!  haha, you weren't trying to do that, were you? ”

“ you didn't fucking see that!? ... right. no. of course you didn't. ”

“ we can't just sit around. we need a plan.”

“ have mercy... no... listen to me, no, don't do this... ”

“ you're all in this together! this is a trap and you set us up! ”

“ what the hell was wrong with you back there? ”

“ to descend into the unknown alone is extremely brave, or extremely foolish. perhaps there is more to you than meets the eye. ”

“ this whole place is a floating deathtrap. ”

“ i mean it's - something is fucking with me. it’s fucking with me, man. it's just - it's just fucking with me. ”

“ anyway, look to the future, i say. ”

“ that! it-it w-was... didn't you see it? okay, so i’m seeing things, but you're not... ”

“ i’m the captain now! ”

“ stories of love and hate... greed and beauty... life... and death. stories such as this one. ”

“ alright! come out! show yourself! ”

“ this fuckin' place is cursed.”

“ but you shouldn't fear death. it is after all... inevitable. ”

“ there are always repercussions. ”

“ argh! no. no! i'm not hearing this. I'm not hearing this! ”

“ don’t fight it... it’ll only hurt more if you do. ”

“ you teeter on the edge of an abyss. ”

“ people drown in these waters and you have to respect their resting place. ”

“ i just keep going over it and over it... and it doesn't make any sense, y'know? it just... and i know what i saw...  i just don't believe in whatever it was i that i saw. ”

“ you’re responsible for what happens, you’re culpable. ”

“ i guess you could say i lived my greatest nightmare. ”

“ you can go fuck yourself, you piece of shit! ”

“ what the fuck is going on with this place? because i gotta be honest it feels like there's some, like... like, evil, like literal evil going on down there. ”

“uh... you are not always going to be there to protect me, big guy. i can handle this, trust me. ”

“ i saw [NAME], and it wasn't [NAME], it was... someone else. but they looked just like [NAME]. ”

“ let's just stay calm, and relatively sane about this, okay? ”

“ you know what i like to hear? nothing. that's right. nada. complete fucking silence. get it? ”

“ we'll have the opportunity to account for all the actions that you've taken... or whatever mess you've made. ”

#sam: dark pictures #rp ask meme #ask meme #rp asks #horror ask meme #by skye*

[inkstainedhandswithrings]

TBB S2 Ep10 Thoughts!

"Yes, but with a few repairs it will be a slightly operational heap of junk." TECH BESTIE WHY U GOTTA BE SO SASSY I LOVE IT

"Oh. Ingenious Idea." bajdhabxjhanwnxjs CUTE

Also just the fact that Tech taught her how to trace a binary reference code

Or just in general, how he taught her how to use his data pad and let's her use it all the time. I imagine that's not a piece of equipment he gives to just anyone

I like Benni's tattoo but,,,,, he's so tiny why tattoo???

ALSO "WHAT ABT WATER RATIONS?"???? OMG TINY R U OK???

"Mako always takes care of his crew." hmmmmmm yea RIGHT I TOTALLY BELIEVE U

I'm sorry, but the ENTIRE batch on that one speeder???? meme material wth that was so FCKING FUNNY CAN YOU IMAGINE THAT CONVERSATION???

"Alright, I'll drive. Wrecker, you shall sit in the middle, which is technically not a seat. Hunter you'll have to sit all the way in the back, facing the other way and almost fall off, but at least you will be able to be a lookout. Omega, as a treat, you'll get to sit behind me. The only comfortable seat on this entire speeder."

5 mins down the road:"TECH, HUNTER JUST FELL OFF!" "Oh."

The way they took Benni down? dang that was impressive. Specially looking at Omega here. I forgot our girlie gained a lot of skill and guts since last season

Also loving how much Wrecker is enjoying scaring Benni. The way he grabs him and then chuckles when Benni tries to run off I'm---

quick question for the group; is Mako supposed to be Zygerrian? I didn't think about it until the end of the ep when I noticed his eyes looked Zygerrian and he had Zygerrian-esque ears

that little moment between Omega and Benni before Mako showed up???? her telling him he doesn't have to live this way, giving him food, showing him the report, talking abt how her family values her???

talking about their respective homes, BENNI APOLOGIZING???

i ship it :')

Also the boys just talking via their communicators while tinkering with the ship has the same vibes as me and my bestie face-timing while we're doing our make-up before going out. i love it

"So you think you can come here and steal from me?" "Technically-" yes baby tell him >:]]

"One stray shot and we're all done for." "We don't miss." EXCUSE ME SIR HOW DARE U SAY HOT SHIT LIKE THAT

okay okay okay okay

THAT MOMENT WHEN OMEGA'S SUPPOSED TO GET TOSSED, BUT SHE SEES HUNTER FIRING THE GRAPPLING HOOK SO SHE GRABS THE DROID, PULLS IT DOWN AND THAT CATCHES HUNTERS HAND TOTALLY FOCUSED AND CALM??? THE WAY SHE CASUALLY USES HIS PACK TO CLIMB BACK UP AND THIS SEEMS SO NORMAL TO THEM THAT IT DOESN'T EVEN REQUIRE A "good job kid" OR SOMETHING????

OMEGA HAS BEEN TRAINING AND SHE'S GETTING MORE AND MORE BADASS AND I'M HERE FOR IT

ngl, I thought Mako's death was a little sloppyly and lazyly done, but then again these are 20 min episodes so you can't really blame them

that last little convo between Omega and Benni???? SO CUTE

Tech's reluctant "what is it?" was so sweet to me especially considering the previous episode. I feel like he's trying harder to acknowledge her feelings and I AM SOFT

and then he tries (and succeeds) to encourage her and pats her shoulder and WAH YES GROWTH :)))

This ep was kinda filler-esque but I really enjoyed it anyway. Sad we didn't get Rex and Echo picking them up, but yanno, I'm not complaining. This was so sweet and fun and nice to watch :))

#star wars #the bad batch #star wars the bad batch #sw tbb #tbb hunter #tbb wrecker #tbb tech #tbb omega #clones #tbb s2 #tbb s2 spoilers #tbb spoilers #anyway

[bonesandthebees]

Internship is certainly going. I want to say going okay… I could be doing better but I kinda got unlucky with my internship spot and workload. This would be much easier to explain if I could just say what kinda of internship it is, but that kinda feels like too much details both for my current degree and the job I’ll be doing after. (Internet safety and all that). Anyway, what I can say is that anyone in the field irl pulls a face when they hear about my internship. The workload feels impossible, but somehow I’m doing it and I’m about half way through so *aggressively knocks on wood* it should be fine.

I do have a different internship in like a month or so and some other projects but those feel like child’s play compared to the current hell incarnate. So moral of the story: sometimes you just get to have a few mental breakdowns, pick yourself back up and go again the next day (again and again and again and again). It’s like that quote: [“It gets a little bit easier every day, but you have to keep doing it.”] or what’s the other one? [the only way out is through]. And then take plenty of breaks and do fun things even if it feels like you don’t have the time because that’s the only thing that’ll keep you going. The world is always more manageable after a good meal or a power nam or a 15 minute music break.

I’ve been blasting a lot of music based on moods, getting back into Dutch music because girl, I need to learn how to spell properly and every internship I have a song that gets me through. This one it’s ‘secret for the mad’ by Dodie. I’ve had to loop it over and over to get the motivation to try at times, to really let the words sink in, but it helps. So find a song to get you through when you need it.

Lastly, I’ve been meaning to say something about Him, but I just haven’t had the time and energy to write something coherent (aka I’m not using my 30 minutes of evening downtime that are just for me for this negative energy). Best thing is can say is that this is a good opportunity to get into new creators. Just have fun with it (hermitcraft season 10 has been getting be through this). Listen to new music. Try new things to fill the void. I’ve pruned all my playlists and social media follows and such and it felt like a fresh start. (Oh and learned your red flags people. People who don’t respect your boundaries (no matter how small) can be(come) very dangerous.)

My only issue now is that I can play since I saw Vienna and La Jolla on guitar (the picking patterns always smooth me), but now I’m not sure if I can keep doing that. I haven’t tried playing them. I feel like I should look at the lyrics first then decide. But I haven’t found any picking songs with the same soothing vibe, so I’ve been playing a bunch of my classical pieces and I really like playing the ‘romantic’ ones and for some reason the polkas and the blues? So again filling the void.

Anyway, thanks for all the well wishes. I’ve been missing you guys. This has been chaotic life updates with Spruce. I really need to start being productive now. So, bye!

-🌲

yeah of course don't say any details that would reveal too much info about you, but man that sounds stressful :( at least you'll switch to something else in a month?? I'm so sorry you're stuck in hell rn I hope you get through it alright!! make sure to take it easy when you can!! you're so right the world is so much easier to deal with after a power nap or a snack

oooo I haven't heard secret for the mad in a long time but I used to listen to dodie from time to time. I used to think of such angsty scenarios with my ships while listening to 'sick of losing soulmates'

also it's so real to have a song to help you get through shit like that. I'd say rn for me one of those songs is all american bitch by olivia rodrigo because I just have a lot of fun screaming it in the car. tested waters by loupe is a calmer one I've been listening to on repeat lately

you're right this is a great opportunity to get into new creators. I was already drifting to watching qsmp creators more often besides just phil and tubbo, but now I've been trying to tune into bagi and tina's streams if I have the time

definitely look at the lyrics first, but I feel like out of most of the ycgma songs since I saw vienna and la jolla are two of the 'safest' options you could pick for something like that. at least compared to your sister was right and losing face...

la jolla and since i saw vienna are both such pretty songs though. there's nothing wrong with playing those on your own guitar I'd say? it's not giving any money to him. but of course it's up to your own personal comfort.

good luck spruce!!! ty for checking in we all miss you over here!! <33

#ask #spruce anon

[iviarellereads]

Nona the Ninth, Chapter 24

(Curious what I'm doing here? Read this post! For detail on The Locked Tomb coverage and the index, read this one!)

(Gideon Nav icon) In which a considerable debate is begun in the fandom.

All the zombie solders crumple where they stood, leaving Nona buried under two. Everyone runs to Cam, who rises to her knees, holding Ianthe's rapier steady to avoid further damage. Crown begs Cam to stay with her, and Cam says she's not going anywhere.

“I’m holding you to that,” said the body of Ianthe Naberius.(1)

Pyrrha grabs the gun and rushes to point it at Ianthe Naberius's body… but lowers it and calls whoever's in there a "fucking legend". Cam tells Pyrrha to remove the rapier, since it missed the pelvis. Ianthe's body says she'll be out of commission with a gut wound like that, and Cam doesn't care, so Ianthe's body does it themself. Crown leaves to find bandages.

Cam asks for some space, as Pyrrha and Ianthe's body are still crowding her. Palamedes asks if she won't look at him, after carrying the remains of his body, his soul, his life. Cam looks him right in the eye and says she would always know him, calling him "Warden". Cam, Pal, and Pyrrha banter a bit, and Pal admits he's expending almost all he has to keep control of the body.

Pyrrha suggests he read it with his psychometry, since this body would have been the conduit for stashing the other corpse. He can't get fine details, but can tell Pyrrha vaguely where to look. Pyrrha says that's practically an intelligence briefing. Pal tells her to take Nona. Pyrrha objects, but he says there's no time, Ianthe is still trying to take control back. It felt to them like much longer than the four seconds it was to everyone else, and his respect for Ianthe has grown, but he'd be lucky to have an hour in control.

Crown has returned, so he tells her to get Judith, and meet them back here. Crown calls him a good man, for not hurting Ianthe. He says it was just safer to trap her than to let her escape back to her own body, it wasn't mercy. She thanks him anyway, and offers to help bandage Cam, but Pyrrha says the guards are knocked out or otherwise busy, there's a clear path to and from Judith.

Crown hesitates, and Nona compares her current state to Noodle, wanting to go out and run but also wanting to stay comfy where he is.(2) Shortly, Crown loses some internal battle, and flees.

Pyrrha rescues Nona from the corpse pile, and they leave as well. Pyrrha asks if Nona's alright, and Nona says she feels strange. Pyrrha offers to pinch her, which Nona bristles at but also breaks out of some of her strange feeling. Pyrrha offers her sleeve for Nona to clean the gunk and plastic bits out of her eyes, and they go on through the barracks to where Pal described.

Nona admits on the way that she's dying. Pyrrha suspected for a while: the soul longs for the body, and she'd know how much it takes to acclimate a soul to a body it wasn't born to.

“But you’re not sad,” said Nona. “Of course I’m not sad. You’re not dying on my watch. Kiddie, when you were yelling…” Nona was still a little embarrassed about that. “I took Cam a bit too literally.”(3) Pyrrha opened her mouth to say something, but then they rounded the second left and she shut her mouth.

There's an obvious ward on the corridor, and Pyrrha reads messages scrawled nearby, warnings that anyone who enters will disintegrate. Nona asks what the trap is, and Pyrrha throws a piece of pipe at the door, where it crumbles to dust that lands on the other side.

“It’s a shit version of Mercymorn’s old entropy trap,”(4) said Pyrrha. “Not half as good. Done entirely through wards—brilliant—but entirely reliant on wards—fucking ridiculous. Good at keeping people out though … and almost impossible for anyone but another Lyctor to break. See what it’s made out of? That’s blood. Blood wards age, and they burn out if you make them work too hard … And I’m sorry, No-No, but that’s where you come in.”

Pyrrha points out that Nona's regeneration is much stronger than even a normal Lyctor's. They couldn't recover from some of the things Nona can. And Pyrrha hates to ask Nona to hurt herself for this, but it's the most important thing in the whole world. Nona asks what's so special about the body they're after. Pyrrha says she's the key to a very important door, and the last thing Pyrrha has left of the woman she loved.(5) And, she might be Nona's body.

Nona found herself sighing again, like her body wanted to let out all its sound at once. One of her ears felt slightly blocked, and when she tilted her head and blew her nose and pulled at her earlobe a little trickle of water came out.(6) “What if I don’t like me?” she said. “Well, you’ll probably start visiting clubs and trying to hit on the dancers, and going from relationship to relationship not really being able to commit.”(7) Nona was severe. “You talk too much, Pyrrha.”

Nona decides to reach out a hand, but at the last moment, can't do it from her fear. Pyrrha grabs Nona by the elbow and pushes her hand forward into the ward. After several long, gory paragraphs of gore about how the ward affects Nona's hand, the ward breaks like a car backfiring. Nona cries into Pyrrha, and it takes a good half minute to get her to look at her hand, which is thankfully fine except for her nails being long and clawed. Pyrrha trims them for her, roughly, and tells her to start opening doors while Pyrrha cleans up the ward in case it's still partially intact and can reform.

Nona opens a door, but it only holds brooms. Next, there's a door with a key still in the lock outside, so she opens it to find the girl from her dream. She tiptoes in, and a couple of paragraphs are spent describing her in quite a bit of detail.

Nona touches the corpse's hand tentatively, expecting her to be revealed as an illusion or a soap bubble.

What happened made her think much better of the corpse. It opened its eyes—and its eyes were yellow, the gold of the old sky, like hers only much foggier.(8) Those were beautiful: Nona had always adored her eyes, and here they were again, on the corpse, only partially spoiled for being dead. They looked like treasure at night. The corpse looked at her in such mute, helpless appeal—spoke to her in her first language(9)—that Nona did not have to think about what she did next. She leant down and laid a kiss right on that cool, dead, crooked mouth. She kissed her just the once. The corpse’s mouth was soft and rough and cold, and did not respond to Nona’s mouth, but a tremble went through the upper body. Nona was surprised and relieved to find that the corpse girl tasted like toothpaste. At the tremble, Nona pulled back, self-conscious. The expression on the corpse’s face could not have been more rigid with shock and disbelief. She found herself saying, a little defensively— “You looked like you wanted to be kissed, that’s all.”

Pyrrha enters and Nona says she's sorry, but Pyrrha looks at Gideon like she's seeing at least one ghost. Nona turns back to Gideon and finds her eyes closed again, her body still. Pyrrha gathers herself and says she'd know Gideon Nav anywhere, she's the picture of her mother except for her eyes and brows. Nona observes that Gideon's mother was the woman who broke Pyrrha's heart, and Pyrrha says she was ready to commit except for the whole punching Wake out an airlock thing.

For some reason, Nona felt vaguely hurt and envious. She didn’t have a mother for Pyrrha to have punched out an airlock. Nor had Pyrrha ever looked at her the way she now looked at the dead corpse with red hair—a kind of soft, guarded want; a hunger—a living desire to take the corpse in her arms like Kevin’s wanting desire with his dolls. To own, to squeeze, to cosset and destroy.

Nona remembers and tells Pyrrha that she thinks Gideon's awake, and can hear them. Nona admits she kissed Gideon and woke her up. Pyrrha looks at Nona, sad and amused and more understanding than Nona wants. She asks Nona why, and Nona says, no reason. Pyrrha asks what it felt like, and Nona says that's private. Pyrrha observes that she's not a heap on the floor, so there wasn't a soul exchange.(10)

Nona says Gideon looked at her, and Pyrrha asks her eye colour. Gold, like Nona's, but cloudier. Pyrrha is relieved Ianthe didn't transfer into her, and remarks how it would've taken half the Lyctors of old to keep her in hand. Pyrrha wonders why John let her bring Gideon's corpse along, knowing the BOE would lose their minds when they saw her resemblance to Wake.

At any rate, time to get back to the gang, so Pyrrha heaves Gideon over her shoulder. Nona notices that Gideon is wearing a jewelled scabbard on her hip, and a sword hilt above it, all pearly white, and something attached to the other hip with "clear white blades and plate rivets."(11) Pyrrha tells Nona to eat the protein bar in Pyrrha's pocket on the way back up, and Nona grumbles, but she does feel weak.

When they return to the crew, Crown's hand reflexively touches her(12) sword as she declares it was Gideon after all. Pyrrha says it could be a doll copy, as she can't see why John would allow her corpse into the world, ever. Crown rushes to cradle Gideon's head in her hands, playing with the wreath.(13)

Pyrrha asks about the shuttle, and Crown says Pal's language got shockingly filthy when he looked at it. The fuel's warded against use. Cam suggested they secure the Sixth for now, and come back for the shuttle later. Judith's also in bad shape, her sedatives aren't working like they should.

Pyrrha asks Crown to help Nona, who worked too hard to get their prize. Crown offers Nona a piggyback ride, which Nona accepts eagerly.

Back in the main room, Cam is standing, though she looks grey beneath her olive skin. Pal and Cam both look at Pyrrha and Nona eagerly, but Pal's face creases as he realizes there wasn't a reaction. Pal wonders if that means it's a copy, and has Pyrrha put her down. Pyrrha does so, gently, and Nona thinks the corpse prince really does look dead, she's flopping very convincingly. Crown says Ianthe certainly acted as though the corpse was real. Pal kneels and gets to work.

He undid her scarf, and Nona looked away. Beneath the scarf a huge wound in the throat made the neck yawn wide open.(14) When she peeked back, wishing she had her braids to screen everything, she saw that Palamedes had unbuttoned the shirt partway and there was another big wound in the chest—a big purple bloodless puncture wound, with white teeth peeking out coyly from within.(15)

Pal says the damage is consistent with reported injuries, with a second wound lower down. Pyrrha says it would be an exact copy with John's work regardless. Pal says he has an advantage, in that he touched the original. Using his psychometry, he tries, but ends up sneezing and pulling his hand away.

Pyrrha says he just met God, and Pal says he doesn't like him. Pyrrha says God is preserving Gideon, if she's not his own creation, or both. Once he's had his hand on something, necromantically speaking, he obliterates anyone else's fingerprints with his power. Crown says Gideon's body didn't decompose, either, before she was lost.

Pal says that protection may be keeping Nona out, as well, if this is where she belongs.(16) Still, they'll have to operate as if she's really Gideon. He makes a ghost ward, so Ianthe can't come and take over her. As he's fanning it dry, Cam asks about the order of operations, and Pal says they'll secure the Sixth Oversight Body first, as Juno Zeta is good with wards, and might be able to break the ones on the shuttle's fuel. Then they return to the Sixth installation, and get all the necromancers out of Varun's influence. They fix Nona, stop the war, go to the Ninth, and "begin the real fight."(17)

Everyone looks at Nona, who doesn't know what the Ninth House is, but her teeth chatter as if to say something, which she has to clench to keep in.

The ward is dried, so Pal asks for the syringe. Pyrrha says she thought of that, but a blood sample might not be enough. With John's power, even Harrow couldn't have broken in unless the blood was fresh. Pal says Gideon's colour is good, no dehydration or gravity pooling fluids. If her blood survives outside her body, or not, it will all tell them something.

Camilla passed him a little pair of scissors, and he cut a short slit in the thigh of the corpse’s soft leather trousers. Then Palamedes prodded around with his fingers—he placed the needle to the dead skin—and the corpse’s hand shot out and ringed around his wrist before anyone could stop it.(18) Nona noticed that one of the corpse prince’s sleeves had worked up, and that on her wrist was a funny fat bracelet: a braided cord of many colours, none of which matched. “One, that’s not going to work. Two, I fucking hate needles,” said the corpse. “Three—Sex Pal, if that’s how you get a lady’s pants off, holy shit, no wonder I stole your girl.”(19) Palamedes rocked back on his heels. “Not my girl. Unlike some of us, I’ve never much seen the allure of an evil cougar,” he said crisply. “Good morning, Gideon.”

=====

(1) The cheering is surely audible! Unless you didn't realize immediately that this was a classic Pal line. (2) I think I understand Corona here. These are her friends, these are the people she's come to trust and love now that she's been given a chance at a life outside her sister's control. Recall Nona saying Crown wants Cam to love her the way Cam loves Nona. She wants Cam to be her sister, in a way, and not necessarily separate from the codependency her parents forced upon her and Ianthe. It's so sad and so sweet, I think. But, at the same time, Cam and Pal haven't had a chance to talk, face to face, alone, in over a year and a half. Give them a minute, Corona, for pity's sake. (3) It took me a good few rereads of this and surrounding lines to realize that it was Nona saying it. So, just in case the lack of identity marker confused anyone else, here you go. (4) The Eighth lab in Canaan House. The one that requires soul siphoning to survive. (5) Pyrrha's mom energy is just BURSTING AT THE SEAMS for Gideon, seriously. (6) The water again, in weird orifices. What was in that scream? (7) It's okay, Pyrrha, I thought your joke here was very funny if not in the best of timing or taste. ;) (8) Why might Gideon's eyes look diluted compared to Nona's? Well, the corpse thing is, I think, a red herring, because everyone else's eyes are exactly the same in death as in life in this setting. We know Wake doesn't have John's gold eyes, so the breeding out could affect them. If Nona were Gideon and Harrow's souls merged, then her eyes should be somewhere between Gideon's gold and Harrow's black, but not brighter gold. Who would have the brighter gold, comparison to whom made Mercy realize Gideon's true identity? Who would be able to take a Resurrection Beast's cry and give it at full power, enough to disable even held corpses who once had necromantic ability? Who is, as Varun put it, this green thing forced into a body too small, so small Nona thinks there's barely room for just her, let alone anyone else? (9) The language of the body, which Nona has demonstrated so casually throughout. This, more than anything, is why I know that no matter what the fandom debates, this is truly Gideon Nav. She would want nothing more, on seeing someone she thought was Harrowhark Nonagesimus, than to embrace her. Nona can tell, though she doesn't have the context to know that her kiss may have been misinterpreted and inappropriate.

(10) So, here's where my theory comes in as to what happened between the end of Harrow and the beginning of Nona. Gideon (in Harrow's body) guided Pyrrha through the River, somehow, back to her own body. There, something happened, I can't guess what exactly, but it transferred Gideon's soul back to her own body by the same gravity Pal thought would happen to Nona (see: chapter 20) and that Pyrrha makes reference to here. Then somehow Gideon's body slipped back into the River, maybe something instinctual with Harrow's abilities as a Lyctor, maybe something to do with her genetic heritage despite not being an adept. She was drawn back to her father, by his intention or otherwise, which is how she ended up back in House control. This left Harrow's body just up from the shore of the River, in BOE territory, with Pyrrha and Cam/Pal and crew. I wonder if Pal and/or Cam witnessed whatever happened at the "landing", if this informed Pal's guess that Gideon's body would cure Nona. I wonder how he feels when it doesn't work. The described crease in his face later this chapter tells me he hates being wrong but not much else. (11) First House accoutrements for her offhand knuckle knife. (12) Not her sword, exactly, if we recall. (13) Nona never elaborated on whether it was infant finger bones, like John's, or some other sort of bones in Gideon's laurel. (14) I don't recall Gideon taking a wound to the throat. Pal seems to indicate this was the original wound, though I'd have thought Gideon would aim for the heart with that fence post spear, to be absolutely sure. (15) I don't recall the fencepost wound being described as so large as this, though. Also, this is the massive fandom debate: are the teeth literal, like vagina dentata but on the chest, or are they metaphorical, signifying ribs? (16) So reluctant to admit he could be wrong about this one, our Pal scented an option that admittedly would seem to make sense… but nobody knew about Harrow's secret shame. (17) The battle against the God Emperor. (18) See, Nona wasn't imagining it or lying! (19) Two references, back to back, to book 1. That's gotta be our girl.

#the locked tomb #tlt #nona the ninth #ntn #nona the ninth spoilers #ntn spoilers #nona #pyrrha dve #camilla hect #palamedes sextus #coronabeth tridentarius #gideon nav

[ijustreallylikecaptainamericaok]

if you're still in the mood to ramble, thoughts on peggysous? full disclosure, i havent seen agent carter, but i've seen ppl talk about it and how sousa was pretty misogynistic (but grew as a person or something idk) and then after endgame it was like "steve ruined peggysous! the horror" which 🙄 anyway

Hi! Whoo hoo, okay. *cracks knuckles* Strap in, everybody.

I've touched on pieces of this here and there over time, but let's just get it all in one spot.

Let me preface this all by saying that when I first started the first season of Agent Carter, I liked Daniel. He seemed like a decent dude and clearly had a thing for her, which I was down with and thought could be good for her. Initially. But it became very apparent, very quickly that that was not the case at all. Hell, even after season one I still thought both him and the ship had potential, but the show squandered it, hard.

Because yes, Daniel is a misogynist and arguably one of the worst kinds. The kind that thinks because he isn't screaming slurs or being ~~hateful~~ that that makes him one of the good ones and such a. Nice. Guy. His misogyny is insidious and paternalistic, all wrapped in some "I'm just trying to protect you" nonsense. His respect and niceness is tenuous at best, because he will turn on a dime once he thinks a woman isn't living up to his standards for them, as Peggy herself called him out for here.

And no, he did not grow. Not in AC, anyway. If anything, he became more of a dickbag as the show went on, but we'll get there. I've seen folks say that he did grow as a character once he jumped ship to Agents of SHIELD, but I haven't seen it and I don't want to and given what little I have seen of it, I have my doubts. He still seemed to be on the paternalistic shit, but Daisy was into it, so I guess that makes it alright? Whatever. Not my problem.

Now, since you didn't watch AC, Nonnie, let me give you a quick timeline of how P*ggysous went down. Season one of AC takes place over the course of a few weeks around March or April of 1946, which means it happens about a year after Steve "died." Peggy was not in a good place, obviously. She wasn't even ready to open up to having friendships with people, let alone a romance. During the course of the season, she does open up and get close to Angie Martinelli (a waitress at the diner she frequents) and Edwin Jarvis (Howard's butler), but romance is still not something she's ready for. During the season finale, Daniel asks her if she'd like to get a drink after work, but she politely declines as she already has plans with Angie and Edwin. It's also obvious in the way she smiles once Daniel turns away that she isn't opposed to the idea, it's just not good timing (for many reasons.) But the show very much leaves that door open. Fine, cool.

Season two takes place around July 1947 about six months after Daniel transferred from NYC to California. By the time Peggy arrives there for the case she's investigating, Daniel's with a new girl, Violet (who's lovely, had better chemistry with him, and didn't deserve any of this shit) and he is already planning to propose to her. Yet we're still subjected to multiple characters (especially poor Rose and even Violet) being relegated to mouthpieces for how obviously in love Daniel is with Peggy. Not to mention how the season kicks off with Jack (the SSR’s resident shithead) playing matchmaker by sending Peggy to LA, in the first place. Meanwhile, the only indication of what their relationship was between seasons is a mention of how he refused to answer her calls once he got out to LA. Then the season ends with Peggy's other, better romantic prospect, Jason, leaving the country to work with Howard and Peggy decides to stay in LA and kisses Daniel. And then the show got canceled.

(And per EG and AOS, they broke up some point before 1949.)

Like, what? It's so rushed and so stupid. Both of them had options that were better and made more sense, yet the show still forced this ship. And not only was it pushing this ship hardcore, for some reason, it also made a big deal about how Peggy had to chose between him and Jason, immediately, right now. Despite the fact that the show made it very clear that it was never going to let her pick Jason anyway. Everything about the ship was so sudden and urgent, out of almost nowhere. Yes, the ship was teased in the first season, but it's still remarkable how suddenly it escalated and again, for almost no reason.

It’s not like they had some whirlwind romance off-screen that turned sour or that Peggy was stringing him along, no. Dude asks her out once, she says no (because duh), then literally nothing happens between them for months, but he’s so incapable of dealing with or moving on from his work crush that he fucks off across the country to immediately hook up with some other girl, who he immediately drops once Peggy’s back in the picture. Seriously, fuck this entitled dumbass. I’m not the least bit sad that Marvel broke up this train wreck. The bottom line is this: Agent Carter ruined P*ggysous, not Endgame and certainly not Steve.

And no, despite what many want to claim, Daniel is not Peggy’s Nameless Husband. We are given one piece of information about her husband in TWS, which is that Steve saved him at some point during the war. Maybe AC’s writers intended to go down that route with Daniel, but as of the end of season two and the show as a whole, there is no indication at all that that factoid applies to him.

Even if he was the Nameless Husband that changes nothing for me, because, well, the ship sucks, but also! Different timeline, different rules. Peggy’s allowed to make different choices under different circumstances. And the concern trolls who claim Steve somehow took away her choices and her life? They damn well know that, as evidenced by the fact that no one’s crying over the Captain Carter timelines hurting Daniel or the Nameless Husband, who are apparently oh so entitled to her in the prime timeline. The post-EG fawning over Daniel and worry over the Husband was bullshit from the get-go, but the lack of any of that same concern post-WI or post-MoM confirms what the real problem always was: Peggy can make any and every choice she wants to as long as she doesn’t choose to be with Steve. And I’m sorry, but there’s no way for me to describe that other than fucking bullshit.

(”thoughts on ___” meme)

#let's be real most of the concern trolls probably never even watched the show #and damn sure don't care about peggy #or daniel for that matter #nonnie mouse #replies #mcu grievances #ranty mcrantface #fandom woes #anti daniel sousa #anti peggysous #i'm just covering my ass here

[yangxiaolongprotectionsquad]

Just gonna go ahead and say this, don't attack Arryn or the CRWBY for anything really, but specifically shipping shit.

Since it's still relatively early in the volume and I'm 99% sure Yang is gonna be in the next chapter (or so I hope), don't get too pissy and take it out on them. This goes for EVERYONE

#even tho i'm saying this in advance it'll still happen ffs u know #anyway let's all try and be respectful pieces of shit alright? #rwby5 #bumbleby #blacksun #rosegarden #lancaster #arkos #renora #AND THE LIST GOES ON #freezerburn #monochrome #wtf else is there... #if it wasn't midnight i might be more competent #uhhhh ladybug #IM GONNA TAG EVERY POPULAR SHIP WATCH ME #SHIT WHAT ELSE #Martial arc shippers are actually amazing u r doing amazing sweetie #ice berg #that's about it for now #if u read this thank you

[movedtodykedvonte]

So you know how Ethan basically went feral in the game to save Rose? Well how would the lords (and the daughters)react to seeing Ethan go feral to protect the them?

Papa bear Ethan action:

Alcina Dimitrescu

Initially confused on why Ethan is fighting so hard and taking hits for her. She is more than capable and sturdier than his weak man thing body

Only when she gets overwhelmed by Lycans does she realize this is a little too much for even her greatness. Ethan assists her and practically jumps on the Lycans back to save her (bonus it's a Vârcolac)

Is grateful and a little taken back by someone being so protective over her (it reminds her of how she is with her daughters)

Defends him harder but never lets him know it is because of his protectiveness (also lowers her ego in combat so he doesn't die trying to be a hero)

The Daughters

Bela is always cunning in battle, so needing to be protected is new. Ethan watched her get pushed outdoors by a lycan and immediately heard hill bill sirens. She would insist she can make it back in but Ethan would carry her in and take any blow in the process. Bela doesn't see them fight outside but she can hear it and it sounds like Ethan is wrecking shit. She is shocked but would give him an extra scythe as gratitude and a sign of respect.

Cassandra can get a little too into the fighting to notice her surroundings (too busy taking in other's pain). A window bursts and she is left at the mercy of whatever she was attacking. Ethan would use his jacket or shirt to cover the hole and move her to safety. He's def finishing off whatever attacker her and (because the girls rub off on him sometimes) bring a piece of it back to Cas. She'd be giddy grandpa did something so heroic. Sneaks back and takes his shirt/coat to prove to Bela and Daniella wow cool it was.

Daniella is the only sister to think to stop fighting and take cover from the fucking cold (this is her mechanic in-game). But now she's cornered and risks getting frozen. She doesn't see it but she hears sounds of fighting, grandpa Ethan getting hurt, a few gunshots plus some stabs, and then silence. The cold is blocked off and she comes out and sees Ethan looking around for her concerned. She swarms him and tells him how grateful she is before going to tell mom how awesome Ethan was.

Donna + Angie

Donna was never much for the physical altercation and Angie is not sturdy enough to take a teddy bear in a fight, let alone an armored lycan

She tries to run or cause an illusion but the lycan is faster and immune due to its own cadou mutations. She is downed and thinks she's gonna be turned to tatters

Ethan literally punches this fucking thing off her and shoots it dead. He wastes no time as Donna is not as sturdy as the other lords. She is sorta still stuck on the ground in shock

Angie is the first to spring up and run into Ethan's arms, yelling about how scary it was. Donna is grateful as he helps her up and clings to his side so he doesn't have to look for her and she doesn't get cornered again. (He is her scary dog privilege)

Salvatore Moreau

Sal is used to people being hostile or aggressive towards him, but not directly hunting him. Due to the confined nature of the reservoir, he is cornered and is hiding away, like fish in a barrel (not stressed enough to transform but terrified)

He's calling out for help, that he knows isn't coming, but it's worth the try anyway. He hears beeping and suddenly a loud boom happens followed by splashing noises.

The door is busted open and he thinks that's it until he recognizes it's Ethan who heard him calling from nearby. He is stunned that someone was there to hear him call and that they then cared enough to come to his aid

Is giddy over the attention and carries his gun on him at Ethan's request so he's not completely unarmed in the case it happens again.

Karl Heisenberg

The Lycans usually listen to Karl but sometimes they get really rowdy and aggressive. This is one of those days and they intend to find a new chew toy; Karl.

He'd just use his metal bending to defend himself but they are really piling on and as I've said; he hates having to kill too many of the Lycans (they are a pack y'know). One jumps on him and he has to use a beam to keep it from biting his neck

A shot goes off over the head of the Lycan before a second shot sends it splattered over the beam. The rest of the pack run off, thinking Karl is at his limit with them. Ethan blows off the shotgun and asks if Karl is alright.

Karl acts more upset he got brain guts all over perfectly good metal and cost him a Lycan but is thankful. Kinda has a warm feeling he hates knowing that Ethan was ready to jump in on his behalf

The lords like protective Ethan but wish he would stop just being a human meat shield.

#Ethan would probably skin someone for his family #ask #anon #alcina dimitrescu #bela dimitrescu #cassandra dimitrescu #daniella dimitrescu #donna beneviento #angie the doll #salvatore moreau #moreau #karl heisenberg #ethan winters #re8 #resident evil village #resident evil 8 #resident evil viii #father ethan au

[kohanayaki]

.:Time and Time Again:. (Marauders Era x Reader) Ch 5

Harry confronts you with a familiar piece of suspiciously folded parchment, and you tell him the story of how you helped create it (mostly told through flashbacks taking place in the Marauders era).

LINKS:   CH 1   CH 2    CH 3   CH 4   CH 5   CH 6   CH 7   CH 8

___________________________________________________________

Ch 5 .:Narrow Spaces and New Alliances:. 

Your eyes drifted open slowly, the bright streams of sunlight coming in through your window strangely unbecoming of 12 Grimmauld Place. It took you a moment to get your bearings as you rubbed the sleep out of your eyes and remembered where you were. As you sat there, looking around Sirius' guest bedroom, last night's events all seemed to flood back to you at once. You groaned into the comforter, feeling your face burn as you recalled blatantly staring at his lips just minutes after crying into his shirt for at least half an hour.

Come on, get it together, you thought to yourself, you're here because Dumbledore summoned you, stay on task.

However, as soon as that memory left your head another replaced it, this one weighing heavier on your chest. You found yourself thinking back to your encounter with Severus. Well, as much as you could call it an 'encounter.' Even when you couldn't see him, you could feel him when you reached out to him with your mind. Severus was good at blocking legillemency— too good, in fact, because you would know the familiar force of his mental shield anywhere. You'd never felt it as powerful coming from anyone else. You almost laughed at the irony of it; the very thing he was trying to use to keep hidden was exactly what had given him away. That, and the smell of him, which took you back to the moment you'd first smelled that damn amortentia potion. . .

You tried to shake off the thought as you properly got out of bed and changed into some casual clothes. The next Order meeting wasn't until tomorrow afternoon, so you had the day mostly to yourself, but you knew the next time you were all in a room together you would have to address some things privately if you had any hope of working together efficiently. You gently padded down the wooden stairs, the door to Sirius' room still closed. He never was an early riser.

As you reached the kitchen you began to put a pot of coffee on when you heard someone approach the room, stalling in the kitchen entrance. You turned around to see Harry in the doorway.

“Morning,” you grinned, turning back to the counter and using your wand to bring some water to a boil, “Coffee? Tea?”

“Oh,” Harry said, a bit embarrassed you'd caught him in mid-thought, “no, I'm okay.”

“What's on your mind?” you asked.

“Um, I was wondering if you could tell me, I mean, if you have the time. . .” he trailed off, reaching for his back pocket, “well, the thing is, a few years ago I found—”

“Kreacher heard sounds coming from the kitchen and did not expect (Y/n)'s return,” Harry jumped at the house elf's sudden arrival, but you seemed unphased.  

“Though master's half mudblood godson remains here,” the elf muttered to himself, “How many more days must it be?”

“Hello, Kreacher,” you greeted him, “nothing nasty about Harry, now, alright? Don't forget he's my godson too.”

“Of course,” Kreacher said, thickly sarcastic but with respect for you in his tone nonetheless. His permanent frown seemed to deepen, however, when he saw you next to the coffee maker. “(Y/n) of house (L/n) should not have to be using the kitchen. Mistress Black would have wept to see a pureblood use muggle equipment. If (Y/n) requires refreshment Kreacher will have it ready.”

“There's no need for that,” you said, “Besides, it's done already, see? You can go on now.”

Kreacher squinted at the cup you poured for yourself. “Always peculiar,” he grumbled, stalking away at your request and muttering to himself all the while.

“He's oddly. . . nice to you,” Harry said, green eyes quizzical behind his round-framed glasses.

“He is,” you chuckled.

“But, well, you're—”

“A blood traitor?” you gave him an easy smile when you saw his expression, easing his fears that he'd actually offended you. “I know,” you said, “he's been through a lot, it's complicated. Trust me, he wasn't always like this to me. It takes time. And it doesn't hurt to be nice to him either.”

Harry decided against bringing up that the nicest person that he knew to the house elf was Hermione, who Kreacher regularly called a 'mudblood wench,' but decided to focus on the 'taking time' part of your statement, wondering  just how long this kind of progress took with the spiteful elf. Besides, you seemed to have some sort of history with him.

“Anyways, what was it you were saying?” you asked Harry.

“Oh, right,” he said, reaching back around him, “um, my friends Fred and George, you've met them?”

“Molly and Arthur's twins, of course,” you smiled, “little imps, they are. Those two could give your father and Sirius a run for their money.”

“Right!” Harry said, “well, that's sort of the point. They're the ones who gave me this.”

As you turned around to face him you stalled mid-stir, nearly dropping your mug as you did. Even as a piece of blank parchment you knew what it was, the distinctive accordion folds that met in the center giving it away.

“How in the world. . .” you trailed off as Harry handed it to you, “but Filch—”

“Didn't do a very good job of hiding it, apparently,” Harry finished, “I thought you might want to do the honors?”

You nodded wordlessly, a pang of unexpected emotion hitting you as you pressed your wand to the map's center.

“I solemnly swear that I am up to no good.”

The faded, brown ink showed itself as its protection charm was washed away, revealing the nostalgia-inducing inscription scrawled in your respective handwritings:

Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot, Prongs, and Fangs are proud to present: The Marauders Map

“Do Remus and Sirius know you have this?” you asked Harry, who nodded.

“Professor Lupin gave it back to me third year before he left Hogwarts,” he said, “but he never told me anything about it after that.” he seemed deep in thought for a moment before looking up at you. “If everyone else is who I think it is, you're Fangs, right?”

It was your turn to nod now.

“I always wondered, how did you do it?” Harry said, hardly containing his curiosity, and you couldn't help but think how much he looked like James in that moment. “How does it work? What sort of magic did you use? All the secret passageways, how did you find them?”

“Alright, slow down,” you laughed lightly, giving in, “I suppose there's no harm in telling you.”

Harry brightened at that, bounding into the living room and taking a seat on the couch as if to say 'we've got all day,' which you did. It warmed your heart to see him so excited, this was one of the only ways he could get to know his parents— through the stories that remained from the people who loved them. If you could help the picture of his family in his mind become a bit clearer, you would tell him any story he wanted to know. He deserved that much after everything he'd been through.

You took a seat opposite him, still nursing your cup of coffee.

“Well,” you said, “it's a long story, starting with how bad those lot were at keeping secrets. . .”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~   1974   ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Run!” James half shouted half laughed as Filch hobbled after the four of them. Sirius nearly bit his tongue trying to keep in his laughter as the Caretaker slung insults and promises of punishment their way, cat ears and a tail freshly sprouted from his body.

“I can't believe we actually did that,” Sirius cackled, keeping easy pace with James.

“I can't believe you dragged me into this,” Remus panted, his current body not lending itself well to physical activity. For once he actually wished he was a werewolf right about now.

“I don't know if I can keep up,” Peter wheezed, falling behind.

“Oh come on,” James said, grabbing his sleeve and helping him run, “we can out run a gummy-legged old prat like him.”

“I don't know, he's faster than he looks,” Remus pointed out as Filch rounded the corner behind them.

“Damn,” James cursed under his breath, “we'll lose him if we can make it to the one-eyed-witch passageway.”

“We'll never activate it in time,” Remus countered.

“The hallway behind the third floor tapestry?” Peter suggested.

“No, Filch knows about that one now,” Sirius said.

“Why the hell didn't you bring your cloak?” Remus huffed.

“Well getting caught wasn't supposed to be part of the plan, but someone had to let out a laugh before we could get out!”

“Just save your air and sprint!” Sirius hissed.

The extended run time was starting to catch up to all of them now, and when they'd made a wrong turn to a blocked off corridor they thought they were done for.

“Hey, morons, over here!”

Four heads snapped towards the sound of your whisper, but you were nowhere to be found. Suddenly, one of the light pillars began to shift, revealing a large crack in the wall just big enough for them to fit sideways.

No questions were asked with no time to waste, and the four boys clamored after one another so they could fit inside. Your magic moved the pillar back in place just in time, and you watched from your hiding spot as Filch reached the walled-off passage in surprise, grumbling as he looked around for the culprits behind you. You had to stifle a snicker as his cat ears lowered; was that growling coming from the back of this throat or did you imagine that? Eventually he stumbled off in frustration and you sighed.

“Alright, the coast is clear,” you said.

“Why did you help us?” James rose a brow, that signature shit-eating grin back on his face like it never left, “you haven't fallen in love with me since our truce, have you?”

“Dream on, Potter,” you rolled your eyes, pushing him out of the crevice and smirking as he tumbled to the floor.

“It seems like I'm always saving you nowadays,” you said, stepping out of the wall yourself with the rest of the boys following.

Remus was thoroughly confused, looking pointedly between you and Sirius. He knew you and James were pretty much friends now, but he also noticed that the hostile air that always seemed to be present with you and the elder Black had diminished. He'd even seen you two talking in the halls lately. Sirius gave him a look; he would explain what happened in the forest with Lucius to Remus later. Mostly he didn't want to admit that Remus was right about you not being so bad if he gave you a chance; you had actually been getting on pretty well since that night.

“You do realize it's no fun winning the house cup when you four practically make Gryffindor ineligible every year with all the shit you get up to, right?” you chuckled, “some competition would be nice for a change.”

“We'll see if you're singing the same tune when Quidditch season rolls around,” James said smugly.

“You're right,” you said, squaring up against him, “guess that's a new competition we've got going for us.”

It had recently been announced that you and James had both been selected to play Seeker for your respective houses next year. It was an arrangement that had the whole school talking, your rivalry turned (mostly) friendship now infamous, even if it was a recent occurrence.

“Hold on, how did you know that was there?” Peter asked you, pointing to the moving column, “even we didn't know about it.”

“Oh?” you crossed your arms, “and are you four supposedly some kind of all-knowing secret masters? Because clearly there's things you don't know about yet.”

Sirius slapped a hand over Peter's mouth before he could retaliate and give away what they've been working on.

“Yes, well, apparently,” he said, ignoring Peter's muffled protests.

You looked at them curiously, all four boys looking suspiciously nervous.

The next day at breakfast, James had brought up the idea of 'hiring' you to help them finish the map.

“I'm telling you, I think we can really make progress with their help,” he pitched, “they clearly know what they're talking about, and we know they can pull a hell of a prank from all the times they've gotten me.”

“How do we know they won't tell anyone?” Peter countered, “I don't know what's up with you, but you're trusting them too fast, James.”

“They're not the type that would tell,” Remus admitted.

“Oh, not you too!” Peter whined.

“I'm just saying, they'll likely appreciate what we've gathered so far and have a fair bit to add,” Lupin insisted, “it could be worth a try if you really want to finish it before we graduate—”

“Finish what?”

The four boys jolted upright, turning to see you and Lily.

“Are you guys okay?” Lily asked, concern written across her features.

“Of course!”

“Never better!”

“Why wouldn't we be?”

Remus just groaned at his friends' panicked answers. This was hopeless.

You and Lily shared a knowing look off the the side.

“Alright, whatever you say. . .”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Harry laughed heartily,

“Wow, I mean, I know you said they were bad, but that bad?”

“For being expert pranksters who hardly ever managed to get caught, they were remarkably terrible at hiding things,” you said, chuckling along with him, “It didn't take us long to figure out they were up to something, although they seemed to think they were brilliant at covering it up, Remus had to burst their bubble eventually.”

Harry shook his head, smiling fondly and imagining all the scenes in his head as you continued your tale.

“So that was when they were first starting to put the map together,” you continued, “but that wasn't even the biggest secret they were hiding. Of course, I wouldn't find out about that for another year, but we'll get to that part of the story later. . .”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~   1975   ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“This tastes awful,” Sirius complained, trying to ignore the plant prodding the under-side of his tongue.

“Well if you were expecting treacle toffee I'm sorry to disappoint,” James rolled his eyes, equally nauseated by the bitter tinge of the Mandrake leaf in his mouth.

“There's no way someone can do this for an entire month,” Peter said, “How do you brush your teeth? What if you accidentally swallow it when you're eating?”

“You three have fun with that,” Remus chuckled, flipping through an old library book and his mouth gratefully leafless.

“How about some gratitude, Moony?” James said, “We're doing this for you.”

“Please, you just want to see if you can turn into a dragon or something,” Lupin chortled, “and you don't actually have to go through with all this. Who knows if this animagus stuff will actually work.”

“Well, a dragon would suit me,” James mused, “but of course we're going to see this through, mate. You know we'd do anything for you.”

Remus smiled to himself, not responding and not needing to. He knew.

“Hey guys,” you grinned, walking up to the Gryffindor table.

Peter gulped suddenly in surprise as you came up behind him, and his eyes widened in horror.

“Shit!” he coughed out, “I-I swallowed it!”

“Your. . . food?” you questioned, glancing over at the boys who all had that same, vaguely panicked look about them.

“Okay, it was funny at first, but you guys have been acting weird since last year and now it's worrying,” you admitted.

The four looked between themselves and came to a sort of silent conclusion. Maybe in this scenario it was better to tell one secret to keep the other. And so, later that night, they told you to meet them after lights out so they could tell you what was really going on. You snuck out of your dorm room and made your way through the secret tunnel to the Gryffindor common room, a route you'd taken plenty of times to mess with James.

You pushed a loose panel of wood open, coming into the warmly lit space through one of the cabinets. You pushed an armchair that was half blocking your path out of the way as you crawled through the space.

“Blimey!” Sirius jumped, “give us a heads up, would you?”

“Sush,” Remus scolded him, “you really don't understand the concept of an inside voice, do you?”

“Alright, well I'm here,” you said, brushing off your robes, “now what's this big secret? This better not be a trick because I've been working on a new hex.”

“Nothing like that,” James assured you, “we've been working on something we think you might be interested in, if you're willing to contribute.”

He stepped to the side so you could see the floor where they'd been huddled around and your eyes widened.

“Merlin,” you said. The red and gold carpet was covered in at least forty different pieces of parchment. Pages upon pages overlapped with each other, each messily detailing a different part and level of the castle in scribbles of smudged ink. “This is. . .”

“The entirety of the Hogwarts castle and surrounding land,” Sirius said proudly, “complete with secret passageways.”

“This is our lives' work, (Y/n),” James said, “be impressed!”

“What impresses me most is how none of you have any sense of scale,” you said, sifting through the papers, “you should really condense this. Kind of hard to make any use of a map if you have to flip to page thirty-three to find the kitchens.”

“Point taken,” Remus said, “it could do with some reorganization.”

“And probably a bigger piece of paper,” you mentioned.

“Right, that. . .”

“That's not all there is to it, though,” Peter said, “Sirius?”

The curly haired boy stepped forward, pressing his wand to the center of the floor.

“Revelare Popularis,”

You watched in wonder as hundreds of names suddenly appeared across the pieces of paper, all students and faculty you recognized. They were scrawled in Sirius' handwriting, as if he'd written them himself.

“This spell shows where everyone in any location on this map is at this very moment,” he said, “It's not exact, and we've been working on variations.”

“So you can plan ahead without getting caught,” you mused, “how'd you learn something as advanced as this, Black?”

“I get around,” Sirius shrugged, unabashedly showing off. Peter rolled his eyes.

“So, the only drawback, of course, is that the spell doesn't work in real time,” Remus said, “so by the time you get where you need to go. . .”

“People will have moved,” James finished, “we're willing to share this little trove of knowledge with you if you're willing to give up all the secret rooms, passages, and hiding places you know.”

“And we thought you may have a solution to our timing problem,” Remus said, “I could tell from our study sessions you quite enjoy learning ahead of your year.”

Your eyes scanned the pages, and you were admittedly impressed. There was ton of stuff on here you had no idea about, but you knew a fair amount was missing as well. It seemed like a fair trade.

“I'm in,” you said.

“What?” Peter blinked, “it was that easy?”

“This is a useful tool you've got,” you said, “I think we can all benefit from it being improved. And now that you mention it, I actually do think I've read about a similar spell to that paper charm. It was in some Gaelic tome in the restricted section on ancient magic. I'm not even sure it used a wand. It was called the Homunculus charm. From what I read it sounded like it acted as a live feed for people in any given location, clan leaders used it to plan ambushes and keep track of citizens. If we could link it to the entire castle. . .”

“We'd be able to see where everyone is—”

“And what they're doing—”

“—At every hour of every day!”

“True, albeit a bit stalkerish,” you quipped, “you let me in on this if I add in what I know, and you got yourself a deal.”

James put out his hand, and as tempted as you were to turn it green or make all the bones in it disappear, you reached out and shook it.

“I do believe this puts us in a formal alliance, Potter,” you said cheekily.

“I believe so,” James smirked.

“Terrifying,” Remus chuckled, “This school won't even know what hit it.”

“Well, what are we waiting for?” James said with a cheshire grin, “let's steal ourselves a book, shall we?”

Read chapter 6 here!

Taglist:  @sleep-i-ness, @blackpinkdolan, @parker-natasha, @ornella0910 @undertaker1827 @thatwierdo-koemi @nxstalgicnxbxdy @calaryssia @aleksanderwh0r3 @mialupin1

#Harry Potter #the marauders #harry potter x reader #marauders x reader #severus snape x reader #sirius black x reader #james potter x reader #remus lupin x reader #regulus black x reader #marauders #marauders era #marauders fanfiction #sirius black #remus lupin #regulus black #james potter #severus snape #snape x reader #harry potter fanfiction #reader insert #harry potter reader insert #marauders x you #marauders x y/n #remus lupin x you #multi chapter #love triangle #snape x you

[nightowlfandom]

Billy Loomis and Stu Macher x Reader- 27 (Part 3/Finale)

Read Part 1 | Read Part 2 

CHECKOUT MY MASTERLIST HERE!

Alright you weenies, here’s the last part of 27....

I realized I’ve also made an error, I forgot that they already killed her other boyfriend, so let’s say the ex they killed in the previous chapter was a different ex.

leggo

...

Today was the day and you were excited.

Vengeance, the cherry on top, the final piece of this damned puzzle. You had snapped. You were completely bloodthirsty now and you WISHED someone would try to stop you. You had come a long way. A VERY long way. It was safe to say both Billy and Stu rubbed off on you a tremendous amount and you were absolutely fucking ready!

It didn’t help that you had two killers hyping you up to all hell. From Billy whispering how many hours were left in the day to Stu commenting about how hot he’d think it would be to have sex in a pool of blood.

When it came time to leave, the boys offered to walk you home.

“So who you gonna get first?” Billy held your hand as Stu stood your opposite side with an arm around your shoulder. 

“Definitely the old man.” you declared. “I want to watch the life leave his eyes. He’s the reason behind all this.”

“How so?” Stu asked.

“He’s convinced I’m not really his child, he’s been trying to get me out of that house since I turned 12...” the guys noticed your significant mood change. “Nevermind that.” you shook your head. “My mom can fuck off with the rest of them, her and her can-do-no-wrong, perfect home bullshit.” you seethed. “I’ll explain while everything’s going down.”

...

“I’m home...if anyone gives a shit.” you grumbled the last part. You walked in to see your mother and father along with Hannah’s mother and father. They were all sitting at the table. Hannah’s mom and dad were bawling their yes out while your parents comforted them.

“Y/N...I’m glad your here.” you father spoke up. “We were talking about funeral arrangements.”

“For the daughter you wish you had instead of me? Not interested.” you rolled your eyes. “If you need me, I’ll be doing homework. Parentals, friends. Friends parentals.” you shortly introduced Billy and Stu to your folks. 

“Nice to meet you.” Billy managed to express. Stu put on a fake smile and waved. 

“Keep your door open so we can hear you!”

“Why would I close the door? You guys would just kick it open anyways.” you grunted. 

You had no reason to be cordial with your family anymore, just because they wanted to put on a show for your guests, you’d give them a damn show.

“Y/N don’t talk to your mother like that.”

“Then I’ll talk to Hannah’s family.” you turned to the two mortified adults.

You could see Billy and Stu out of the corner of your eyes, both looking like they were about to burst out laughing.

“Y/N we have nothing against you.” Hannah’s mom wept. “We knew Hannah could be a bit much.”

“Hannah was much? Oh No Mrs. Doyle. Your husband screwing around with your teenage secretary was much.” you crossed your arms. “Your daughter was a fucking nightmare and I’m glad no one has to put up with her shit anymore.”

You wanted to see just how far you could take this before your parents exploded. 

“Y/N L/N!” Your father rose from his seat, ready to storm over.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you.” Stu was first to stand in front of you. “Mr. L/N with all due respect, I’d advise you against that.”

“And just who do you think you are?” 

“The man whose about to be responsible for your funeral if you take another step.” Billy stood next to Stu, the both of them making a human wall, separating you from them. “Geez Y/N you weren’t kidding.”

“You should see our security camera footage.” you scoffed. 

“Well this has been a lovely chat but we really must be going.” Mrs. Doyle stood to her feet. 

“Oh nononono~” Billy sang with conviction. “Sit your asses down...let’s play a little game.” (I know Saw hadn’t been made yet, just go with it.)

...

Watching back the camera footage hurt a lot more than you thought it would. You couldn’t imagine how everyone else was feeling. Both of Hannah’s parents were tied up with blindfolds over their eyes. Stu had knocked out your dad and tied him to the table while Billy handled your mom, duct-taping her hands and wrists to a chair...

“Look at that. An innocent little girl...” Billy shook his head as he listed to your parents berate you to your face. You blocked everything out while you watched. How Hannah and her would smile in your face all the while being your biggest tormentors. How you couldn’t tell your mother or father because they never believed you the first ten times you tried. 

It was all crashing down on you now.

There was an eerie silence as your crying voice filled your own ears. You were used to crying yourself to sleep by that time. All of this happening a little before you met the boys.

“Y/N, whatever you have to tell us, we don’t have to involve them.” your mother sobbed.

“Mommy....you’re crying.” your voice broke as you opened your mouth to speak for the first time in a couple of hours. “But what about when I was crying?....What about when I was in the hospital scared for my life? What about when you guys were threatening to ship me across country....” much like you did with Hannah, you kicked the chair sending your mother falling back.

“And you.” you turned towards your dad. “I know you don’t believe I’m your biological daughter...and guess what...I hope I’m not either.” you growled, staring down at the now cowering man. “You are pathetic...both of you.” you turned back towards the TV screen. A video of you in your bedroom (since your parents didn’t believe in privacy) was playing. You were on the phone with your friend Kyla.

“No, no I know Ky.” you laughed. You had a much different laugh than you do now. “...I don’t know, it’s hard to trust cute faces like theirs.”

Your eyes widened as you listened to what you were saying. Before you could go to turn it off, Stu had taken you in a hug. “Oh no princess, don’t be rude...let the video play!”

“Do I like them?....Maybe...okay totally!” you watched yourself squeal as you threw the pillow you were hugging across the room. “Kyla I wish you were here to see them THEY ARE SO-” you covered your mouth to stop from shouting too loud. “They are so cute and so hot and they wanna be seen with me!...of all people! No I’m not gonna make a move on them.”

“Awww Y/N has a crushy wushy on us!” Stu gushed. “We love you too baby!” Stu abruptly kissed you, right there. You almost forgot Billy was standing there. 

“Woah...” you almost lost balance. 

“Young lady! How dare you-” You father tried to said.

“Oh shut up!” Stu took it upon himself to finish the job. 

(OKAY SHEILD YOUR EYES NOW)

Stu wrapped a hand around your dad’s neck and applied pressure, so much to the point where his face went blue within a mere 5 seconds. Stu laughed maniacally, only seeming to tighten his grip while Billy continued to antagonize your mother, laughing in her face while she watched the horror happen with her husband.

“Y/N...why?” your dad choked as he struggled.

“Why not...and while we’re here.” you shrugged. “I killed Hannah.”

“WHAT?”

You almost forgot Hannah’s parents were in the room, listening to everything go down.

“Oh yeah.” you shrugged. “Bitch had it coming...the better question is what should I do to you two.” you crossed your arms as you thought.

...(Time skip)

“Pretty isn’t it.” You gazed up at the stars. 

“Not as pretty as you.” Billy flirted, using his sleep to wipe your face. As you all sat on the front steps of your porch, ambulances and cop cars lined up the street for many blocked.

“I agree.” Stu wrapped an arm around you waist. “Be honest, how do you feel?”

“I feel free.” you replied, letting out a large sigh. The cops had just finished questioning you. Your story was clear. Your dad lunged at your mom first and Hannah’s parents saw too much...then he accidently tripped and hung himself. Perfect crime. Billy and Stu were walking by when they heard your cries for help and they hopped in.

As to how you three managed to escape unscathed, they got you out of there in time just as he was hanging himself. As for the tapes playing on the T.V...they were watching old videos to find something to ground you for. (Something they usually did anyways.)

“Good.”

“I just don’t know where I’m gonna live now. My aunt lives the next city over and that’s a long drive.”

“Hm...just gonna have to live with us now!” Stu shrugged, we’ll all be like a married couple!

“All...as in-”

“Yes, the three of us.” Billy grabbed your attention. “Lucky you, eh?” He pecked your lips when the officers wasn’t looking just as Stu planted a smooch on the back of your head.

“Young lady.” the officer walked up to you three. “You’re lucky to have escaped them, that psychopath stabbed your mother 27 times...who does that?!”

You paused before you gave your answer. “I guess he was just fed up, officer.” 

Stu tried hard to contain his laughter while Billy coughed into his hand, you all knowingly shared a look.

Yes...fed up indeed.

(So...I guess this slasher stuff might be a regular thing...I kinda like it)

#slasher imagines #slasher fan fiction #imagines #slashers #slashers x reader #billy loomis #billy loomis x reader #stu macher x reader #ghostface imagines #billy x reader x stu #scream imagines #billy loomis imagines #stu macher imagines #horror imagines #polyghostface

[breanime]

Intentions

Okay, here’s my shot at a Tommy Shelby fic... Let me know what you think, please!

Prompt:  “You think I would do this for just anybody?”

You weren’t entirely sure what possessed Tommy Shelby—the Tommy Shelby—to assist you, but you decided not to look a gift horse in the mouth and just appreciate it. Ever since he’d overheard you telling Ada about the men who harassed you on the streets, Tommy had taken it upon himself to make sure you always had an escort home.

And for the last five days, that escort had been him.

“Really, Mr. Shelby—” you began, holding your purse in front of you as Tommy locked up the office.

“—Tommy,” he corrected you, a cigarette dangling from his lips.

“Tommy,” you repeated, “you don’t have to keep doing this, really. I can just walk.”

“You live 45 minutes from the office,” he said back, “and that’s not counting having to stop for fucking protests or some pieces of shite trying to pick you up. Then it’s around 56 minutes if it’s raining or snowing,” he went on, “More if it’s doing both at once,” he led you to his car, opening the door for you, “You work hard; you ought to have your boss make sure you get home safe.”

You bit your lip, trying to keep your growing smile in check. Tommy had no way of knowing that—the time it took for you to get home—unless he walked the walk himself. “Well,” you said, climbing into the car, “I really do appreciate it.”

“Yeah, well just appreciate it quietly, eh? Don’t need the other girls thinkin’ they can get a free ride out of me,” he glanced at you, giving you a small smile that made your heart flip in your chest. You watched as he started the car, and he turned to you, “Why do you stay in that neighborhood, anyway?” He asked you. “It’s so far from town, the buildings are old, the landlords are pricks…”

“It’s the only neighborhood that houses Blacks,” you answered, “Or at least it’s the only one that houses us at an affordable price.”

“Hm,” he nodded, looking ahead as he drove, the smoke from his cigarette billowing from his lips, “Am I paying you that poorly?”

You laughed, and you didn’t miss the way his lips twitched upwards as you did. “You pay me well above the usual rate. I’m just saving it up, is all. I can’t have you driving me around forever, Mr. Shelby—”

“—Tommy,” he corrected you.

You rolled your eyes, making him chuckle, “Tommy,” you amended yourself.

“I don’t mind it, you know,” he said, turning the wheel, “driving you. These last few days, it’s been… nice,” he paused, “I don’t get a lot of time for good company or conversation on me own.”

“Oh, so I’m good company, am I?” You said with a grin.

Tommy turned to you, those diamond blue eyes staring right into your soul, “You’re a smart girl,” he replied, “Loyal, Trustworthy. Hard working. And you’re bloody gorgeous so. Yes. You make for good company.”

You felt your cheeks heat up, and your eyes darted down to your lap. You’d heard that Tommy Shelby was a charmer, and that he’d had pretty much every woman who’s worked for him—minus his aunt and his sister-in-law, of course—but you’d never seen him so… forward.

You liked it.

“Have I made you uncomfortable?” He asked casually, as if he was asking about the weather.

“No,” you answered, looking over at him, “You make for good company too.”

He gave a wry smile then. “Fishin’ for a raise, eh?”

You raised an eyebrow. “Either I’m loyal and trustworthy, or I’m bootlicker. Which is it, Tommy?”

He laughed, and the sound made you warm all over. Tommy didn’t laugh nearly as often as he should. “Fair enough,” he nodded, “You’re not a bootlicker, that’s for sure,” he glanced over at you again, “I haven’t figured out what it is you are yet…”

“I’m a girl who isn’t gonna let you fuck her just cause you’ve given me a few rides,” you said back, speaking before you could stop yourself.

He raised his eyebrows, nodding. “Is that what you think is going on here?” He asked. “My driving you home from work? You think I’m doing this for sex?”

You licked your lips, nervous now. “Well, I mean no offense, Mr.—Tommy—but I’ve worked for you for three months now, and I think I know you well enough to know that you never do anything for nothing.”

Tommy smirked. “That’s true,” he stopped the car, letting a mother and her kids pass in front, and looked at you, his eyes staring into yours brazenly, “So, let’s have it. Give me your theories,” he started the car again, glancing back at you as he spoke, “Why, then, do you think that I do this?”

You paused. Maybe you were being presumptuous. Maybe he didn’t want to sleep with you. Just because he called you gorgeous, didn’t mean he wanted to fuck you, after all. Maybe he didn’t mean what he said—although Tommy always meant what he said. Maybe, though, he really was just concerned about your wellbeing. A woman walking home alone at night could be vulnerable to all kinds of dangers, and given the amount of enemies the Shelbys had… You looked over at Tommy. “You do this for everyone,” you surmised.

Tommy turned to you, an eyebrow raised. “You think I would do this for just anybody?”

Again, you paused. “Yes?”

“Well, I don’t,” he said back, “I’ve never driven any of the girls home—except for Lizzie, but that’s only because I fucked her,” he went on, blunt as ever, “This takes up a portion of my time, and I’m not a man who has a lot of time to waste,” he looked over at you, “I like being around you,” he confessed, “I like the way you talk. I like the way you think, and when I think of you alone at night… I can’t sleep. I can never sleep, but still…” He took his cigarette and tossed it, giving a humorless chuckle. “You make me ramble,” he went on, shrugging one shoulder, “I don’t ramble, least not since France...” He paused for a moment. “When I’m busy, and one of the lads takes you home instead, it ruins me night. It irritates me that I missed out on that time with you, and that another man got it instead,” he glanced at you again, “Is that alright to say?”

You nodded, your heart pounding in your chest. “I prefer it when you drive me,” you admitted, “Not that the others aren’t nice and all—they are—but… I do like this time with you, being alone with you…”

Tommy looked at you, his sky-blue eyes staring into yours, and for a moment, neither of you spoke. Wordlessly, he pulled the car over, turning to face you fully. “Tomorrow is Friday,” he said, and you blinked, confused as to why he was telling you something you already knew, “Pay day. I’d like to take you out to dinner. Maybe see a picture after. Would that be alright?”

You felt your lips spread out in a smile, and Tommy smiled back, chuckling a bit at the excitement in your eyes. “Yes,” you answered, “yes, that’d be alright.”

“But I want to be honest with you,” he went on, “I respect you as an employee, and you’ve been a good friend to me these past months, and regardless of what happens tomorrow night, I will still make sure you have a safe way home after work,” he leaned forward a bit, his voice low and deep, “but I want it known that I very much do want to fuck you.”

His words sent a flush of heat through you, and you had to remind yourself that you were a lady, not a whore…no matter how much Tommy Shelby’s glimmering eyes and sharp jawline made you want to be… Biting your lip, you smiled at him, “I’m not going to open my legs for you on the first date, Tommy.”

He laughed, taking out another cigarette and lighting it, the flame reflecting in his ocean-colored eyes. “Mm, we’ll see,” he murmured, “So it’s a date then?”

“It’s a date.”

The rest of the drive passed quickly—too quickly for your taste. The two of you discussed work and your families and what movie you’d like to see, and before you knew it, he was parked outside of your building.

He opened the door for you and walked you to the front door like a gentleman. And you thanked him—

—with a kiss.

If the kiss took him by surprise, Tommy didn’t show it. As soon as your lips touched his, his arm was wrapped around you, keeping you close. The kiss was soft, but firm, and Tommy’s slender body felt magnificent against yours. You wondered, at the back of your mind, what your neighbors would think, seeing you necking with Tommy fucking Shelby of the Peaky fucking Blinders, but you couldn’t be bothered to care about what the gossips may say.

You were too busy trying to keep yourself from floating off in a haze of bliss.

You pulled back first, and Tommy let you. You couldn’t keep the smile off of your face. “I’m not letting you up, Tommy.”

“I didn’t ask.”

“Like hell you didn’t,” you smirked, making him laugh.

“I’m a patient man,” he said back, taking a step back, “I can wait until tomorrow.”

You laughed at that, but the truth was, you were quite certain that tomorrow night, when Tommy pulled up in front of your apartment, he wouldn’t be driving off until the sun rose.

In fact, you were counting on it.

You watched him drive off from your window, a sigh escaping from deep in your chest, the taste of him—mint and smoke and a hint of whiskey—fresh on your lips. Tommy fucking Shelby…

…what had you gotten yourself into?

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

Thanks for reading! Please let me know what you think! You guys know how I get when I write a new character; I always think it’s shit. So if it is, tell me! And if it’s not, tell me why, please! Should I write for him again, or nah? Cause I kind of have an idea for a Part 2, but IDK if anyone would be interested. 

 And if you really enjoyed it and you can send in a tip here, I would greatly appreciate it!

Everything Taglist: @sweetybuzz25​  @mrsjaxtellerfan​  @rhabakoli​  @encounterthepast​ @realduckvader​   @justvnash​ @knowles-morgan​  @ateliefloresdaprimavera @evanlys19​  @nyxxnoxx​ @carlaangel86​  @luminex3 @jigsawlover10  @gollyderek​ @otomefromtheheart​  @lexxierave  @amethyst09 @falsehopesndreams  @a-dorky-book-keeper @witchygagirl @glimmerglittergirl @fvckthisbxtchup  @ben-c-group-therapy​ @felicity-x0 @amirra88 @yourfellowangel @vibranium-soul @xserenax-13  @woahitslucyylu​​  @gemini0410 @ktiz90 @theoceanhathsolace @starrynite7114 @my-rosegold-soul @papa-geralt-of-cirilla​​ @abbiesthings @peaches007 @ifoundmyhappythought @tegggeeee  @bisexual-space-slut @mariaenchanted @thesandbeneathmytoes @sheeshgivemeabreak @queenbeered @sesamepancakes @venusis-inretrograde @shaelivia @breakingnewsin-no-oneasked @yourwonkywriter​​ @fear-less-write-more​​

#tommy shelby #tommy shelby x reader #peaky blinders #peaky blinders fic #tommy shelby x black reader #black reader fic #tommy shelby imagine

[starksdaughter-3000]

Dark!Mob!Thor x Pregnant!Reader Future and Slight Loki x Pregnant!Reader

Warnings~ 18+, Dark, Angst, Language, Attempt of Seducing(?), Choking (Non-sexual), Abuse, Violence, This shit is deep y'all

A/N: Hiiiiii I'm backkk! Thanks for all the love on the last one so here's one I just came up with. I was just brainstorming ideas ngl. Another thing I am new to Tumblr, I found it in the middle of March and I don't know how to like link a part 2 ya know. Cuz I want this story to have a part 2 so I will figure it out lol. Enjoy!

*Not my GIF*

Ever since you met the mobster he was sweet and gentle with you. So caring, nothing lime how he is to his enemies. For a year Thor has been the same person you met and more but now it felt like him and his feelings are drifting away.

You found out you were pregnant two weeks ago but Thor hasn’t given you the time of day so you could sit him down and tell him. Claiming he was busy with work. It has also been awhile since the two of you had sex. You thought to yourself that maybe he was stressed, drowning in work and all. So you decided to try and help him out.

Knocking on the door twice you immediately here a ‘Come in.’ from and deep grumpy voice that was obviously Thor’s. You turned the door knob and stepped inside seeing Thor’s head buried in papers stacked up on top of his desk. You sigh quietly shutting the door and gliding closer to his desk.

“Speak, don’t waste my time.” You gulped. “Hi baby.”

“What Y/n, can’t you see I’m busy now.”

“Thor you seem to be under a lot of stress now baby I would just like to help you out.” You purr.

“Y/n how would you help me? You don’t know anything about the Mob.” He raises his voice.

“Look if you have no real reason to be in here then leave.” By now you notice he is running quickly out of patients. You are almost in his eye sight on the side of his desk now. Grazing your finger tips along important stacks of papers.

You chuckle lightly. “No Thor not like that. Just let me finish telling you bub. Can you look at me, please?”

He sighs and turns his chair towards you. He frowns even more. Your body covered in lacey red lingerie, leaving little to the imagination. Showing off all your curves and imperfections. You can still fit your clothes due to you baby bump not showing because it is still early in the pregnancy.

“Come on honey, taking a break let me help you relax.” You move forward straddling his lap. Fingers running through his long locks of beautiful blonde hair.

He rolls his eyes, which is a surprise to you and makes you frown.

“Y/n I don’t have the time for this!” This time he yells and this action makes you flinch so you immediately stand up with your head down staring at your bare feet.

“I’m sor-” He cuts you off. “No don’t you fucking get it woman! I don’t want your company. Leave me to do my work so I can give you a better life. I pay for all the shit you have and you can’t even let me do my job! Get the hell out now!”

You’re shocked, he has never used that tone with you or those choice of words. It felt like he was treating you as if you worked for him. You’re his girlfriend not just some anybody that he could raise his voice to.

You knew what you were about to say would possibly hurt his ego or yourself, but he needed to be brought down a peg or two.

“Why are you yelling at me like I did something wrong! What crawled up your ass and died? You selfish prick! I was trying to do something nice for you to get you out of this hell-hole you put yourself in! ASSHOLE!”

As soon as you were finished he bolted out of his chair and wrapped his hand around your neck slamming your back against the wall behind you. You couldn’t believe what was happening and your body went into panic as his grip hot tighter the more you struggled. All you could think about was if he was going to kill you or not, if you were going to get out of here alive and about your unborn baby.

“P-please no.”

“How dare you speak those words to me. DO YOU KNOW WHO THE FUCK I AM BITCH!? I AM THE KING OF THE MOB, I COULD HAVE YOU DEAD AT THE SNAP OF MY FINGER!”

He let you drop to the ground, coughing and gasping for air. Tears rolling down your eyes, devastated and defeated you tried to stand up but was kicked down in the back by a furiated Thor.

“By midnight I want you and all your shit put out my house. You’re lucky I’m letting you keep it. Now scram.”

Your heart broke in millions of pieces on the spot from when he first raised his voice at you. It was hard getting off the floor but even harder to accept that the father of your unborn child has kicked you out of the house and even had the audacity to put his hands on you like he said he never would. That empty promise you should've known it was all a lie. You should have never given him a chance. All of those talks about your future together was bullshit. All of the talks about you being his wife one day bullshit. And to tie it all together the talks about starting a family together was absolute bull-fucking-shit.

Bursting through the room you shared with him bought back all of the sweet memories of the love making, when one of you were sick in bed and the other took care of them, the cuddles, the arguments, the playful fighting, the empty promises, the crying, the laughter. It all hit you at once it made you drop to your knees sobbing into your palms confused.

What made him not love you anymore? What made him put his hands on you? What made him tip over the edge to lash out on you like that? Where would you go? Who would you call?

You were so stressed out with questions and overwhelming feelings you had to remember that you were pregnant and had to convince yourself to calm down. Fifteen minutes of deep breaths you gathered yourself and got your composure back to normal.

Jeans and a sweatshirt was what you slipped on. Pulling out two suitcases from under the bed you started packing. Looking at the time it was 11:39pm so you closed the suitcases and zipped up duffle bags. Heading downstairs you saw your good friend Heimdall reaching for your hand to help you down the last step.

“May I take that from you Ms.Y/l/n?” You sighed handing them to him knowing that he would have gotten it anyway.

He frowned noticing your pained expression. Your back starting to hurt now.

“Y/n are you alright? You seem to be in pain.”

“N-no I’m fine I just need to go.”

“Are you going on a trip? Why so many bags?”

You sighed at the reminder.

“No Heimdall I won’t be back, thank you for doing for me and being a wonderful friend but I’m afraid that it is my time for a new chapter in my life. Please do not ask any questions I do not feel like speaking on it at the moment.” Heimdall nodded respecting your wishes as he escorted you to your car.

“Thank you Heimdall.” You whisper quietly. “Farwell and no, thank you.” You had no idea how much he appreciated you for coming into Thor’s life and opening your heart to him to show and teach Thor how to love and care. You truly did turn Thor’s life around and it showed.

You pulled him in for a hug as you climbed into the drivers seat. Unsure of where to go. You pulled out of the driveway of the mansion. Once you were on the road you had no idea who to call, you gave up your family and friends for Thor. So you called the only person you knew would take you in.

Loki.

#thor x reader #thor odison imagine #dark thor #thor angst #im back #marvel fic #marvel imagine #mob au #loki #likemypost #followme

[pascalpanic]

“You can call me whenever you want… Even if you don’t have a reason to.” with Javi 😩 OR marcus moreno bc I think it fits him too

Personal Number (Javier Peña x f!Reader)

Summary: You’re lonely working as the American ambassador’s secretary. You miss the days of being down with the agents as a receptionist. At least you get to talk with Javier Peña on the phone somewhat often.

W/C: 1.5k

Warnings: language, brief mentions of sexual content. this is pretty tame.

A/N: I LOVE JAVIER. can you tell?? thank you for this idea Thea!!! I love it so much and I hope you like it too. Also, can you tell I like writing phone calls? I just think it’s so fun and a medium that isn’t covered super often.

it’s definitely not because I like not having to write about body language or action.

Javier Peña was a flirt. You knew that from the start, from the stories you’d heard from the other women around the embassy. He was cute, you admitted. Tight shirts and equally slim-fitting jeans, dark hair, lean and strong. He walked with power in his stance.

You liked him. He was a nice man, respectful. He flirted with everyone, but he never went too far. Sure, he’d slept with a solid chunk of the women who worked here, but he was supposedly a wonderful lover. His methods were unorthodox in the field, but he got what he needed. He was incredibly clever, setting up traps and getting information by any means necessary. You talked occasionally, when he’d stop by because you had a message for him at the receptionist desk. He was good for conversation. He liked the cinnamon candies you kept on your desk.

The other women talked with you more than he did. You and the other women chatted, ate lunch together. The rare female presence was much appreciated in such a testosterone-laden environment. You all got along well. Even compared stories of sleeping with certain agents, how their skills at finding the clit ranked, how snuggly they were after, how receptive they were to certain acts. It was fun.

Javier was a busy man. The phone on his desk rarely rang. If someone needed someone around the embassy, they went and talked to them in person. It was an excuse to get away from your desk, people figured. You rarely used the phone too, even as a receptionist. You’d answer calls when they came, but they were usually directed other places, with specific extensions. People here were more direct.

That was before you’d been appointed as the ambassador’s secretary. It was an honor. It meant you were good at your job. You’d taken it, bragging to the other girls over lunch. Everyone was excited for you.

The job, you found out, was dry. It consists most days of making phone calls. Stechner, Ambassador wants you. Ambassador? Stechner’s here. Yep. I’ll let him in. Hi, we’ll take three orders of arepas- sorry, yes sir? Scratch that, he wants four. And can you throw in a coffee- one second, yes sir? Got it- with four creams and two sugars.

You doodle on a notepad many days. You read newspapers or reports. You proofread memos for the ambassador before he sends them off to someone important. It’s draining and dry and you have to admit you hate it.

“Peña,” a voice answers the phone.

“Hi Javier. Are you busy?” You ask.

He smiles a little as he hears your voice, leaning back in his chair and crossing his legs. “When am I ever around here?” He asks, and you chuckle.

“I know the feeling.”

The two of you had talked a few times before. He was nice enough, if curt. Usually, he was busy. People only came to you when they needed something as a receptionist, and now even more so as a private secretary.

“How’s the promotion treating you?” He asks. He’d heard word as he talked with others. Noticed your spot was empty for a day or two before being replaced by another woman. He missed the little candies you kept on your desk. You always kept cinnamon disks stocked in a separate jar from the seasonal candies for him.

“It’s… good,” you nod, drawing a little fish on your notepad. “Kind of feels like a demotion sometimes. It’s boring up here. And lonely. I miss being around to talk with people.”

“We miss you,” he admits with a smile. “You still keep those cinnamon candies on your desk up there?”

You shake your head, holding the phone between your ear and your shoulder. “No. Ambassador doesn’t like them, so I switched over. I did get some new fun caramel flavored stuff though.”

“Damn,” he chuckles.

“Would it make you come up here if I had them?”

“I may have to visit the ambassador more often if you did,” he teases, and you chuckle softly. “Poor little social butterfly, cooped up on the highest floor, away from humanity.”

“I do feel like Rapunzel some days,” you sigh, still smiling. “Oh shit, I’m sorry. I was supposed to ask if you were busy for the ambassador, not for myself. He wants to see you if you have a minute.”

“Yeah, I’ve got time. Right now?”

“Right now.”

You can hear shuffling on the other end. “Let me put my signature on one more paper and I’ll be up.” He hangs up and you sigh. There was the most interaction you’ll get for the day.

-

It seems that the closer the men get to Escobar, the more the ambassador needs to see Murphy and Peña. You don’t mind. The two men are funny, and the way they interact makes you smile.

Peña talks to you more than Murphy. Steve is more likely to go outside to smoke, while Javier smokes at his desk. That means you dial him more often simply because there’s a higher probability he’s at his desk. Not because you enjoy talking with him more.

The two men had picked up on calling you Rapunzel. Your energy and excitement was draining day by day, and they compared your new position outside of the ambassador’s office, high on the top floor of the embassy, to Rapunzel’s tower.

You playfully called them Javi and Stephen in return to annoy both of them. It didn’t work on Javier. It turned out he liked that, and you could tell by the way his voice softened. So you kept that.

“Peña.”

“Guess who?” you ask dryly, tapping your pen against your notepad.

The man chuckles. “You must be having an exciting day up there. I can hear it in your voice.”

“Ha.” The word is humorless and flat. “Ambassador wants to see you two.”

Javier groans. “Kind of busy.”

“Well, I’ll tell him that,” you nod and write down on a legal pad- separate from your doodling pad- Peña busy. 11:30. “How are things going down there today?”

“Annoying. Steve is a pain in my ass- hey, shut the fuck up,” you can hear him say even as he removes the receiver away from his phone. You giggle at that, smiling as he speaks again. “Sorry. Can you guess who that was?”

“What was he saying this time?” You ask, twirling the cord to the phone around your finger.

“Nothing,” he insists, but you can hear Murphy shouting. Some message he’s trying to get to you.

“Well, alright. Call up when you’re less busy,” you ask him and hang up.

You really want to know what Murphy was going on about. You dial his desk and he picks up. “S’this Rapunzel?” A southern accent twangs.

“Of course,” you chuckle. “What were you shouting into Javi’s phone?”

“Oh, nothing. Oh, hey, wait,” he says, pulling the phone down and pressing it to his chest. You can hear the muffled voices of the two men, but not what they’re saying. He puts it back to his ear quickly after. “Anyway, it’s nothing. We’ll call you back when we’ve got a minute to come up.”

Odd, you think, before going back to your work on your desk.

-

The phone rings again an hour later. “Ambassador’s office,” you say with a gentle lilt to your voice.

“Hey, Rapunzel,” a kind but rough voice speaks through the phone. Javi.

“Hey,” you chuckle a little. “You guys ready to come up?”

“Uh, no, not yet. But I do want you to write something down for me.”

“Anything,” you nod, priming your pen above the piece of paper.

Javier rattles off ten numbers, and you diligently write them down on the paper. You repeat it back and he affirms that it’s correct. “Got it. What is it?”

“It’s my personal phone number.”

“Javi, the ambassador already has your phone number.”

“No, I know. It’s for you.”

Oh. Your heart flutters excitedly in your chest, causing you to let out a soft giggle.

“I like talking with you. Our phone calls are the highlight of my day. You can call me whenever you want… even if you don’t have a reason to. I just… like hearing your voice. I like you.”

You clutch the paper, grinning ear to ear. “Well, I like you too, Javi. I’ll be using this,” you assure him, looking down at it and beaming. “Now, you said you’re busy. Get back to work.”

“Yes ma’am. See you in a bit.”

Click. Dial tone. Your heart fills with sparks and little fireworks, sending you into a loud laugh of excitement.

The thick oak doors swing open. The ambassador looks at you with concern. “Everything alright out here?” He asks you.

You nod, biting your lip and looking down to hide your grin. “Yeah, yeah. Great, sir. Peña and Murphy aren’t ready yet. They’ll be up later.”

The man gives you a nod and closes the door behind him.

The grin returns. You trace the freshly-dried ink, the nine numbers that will connect you directly to Javier at any time you want. You pull your contact book from your purse, sitting beneath your desk, flipping to a clean page.

Javier Peña, you write.

xxx-xxx-xxxx

personal number

You go back and draw a small heart next to his name.

#javier peña #javier peña x reader #javi peña x reader #javi peña #narcos fanfic #narcos #pedro pascal #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal x reader #jose pedro balmaceda pascal #pascalpanic

[skellebonez]

You said you have yet to write something for winter's Actor au, so how about we fix that!? Maybe with promts 18 and 28? It could be with anyone, Shadowpeach, Freenoodles, even Ironbull, you choose

Disclaimer: I don’t really know all the ins and outs of how movie making works, I am winging it based on behind the scenes footage videos. This is probably not a 100% accurate representation of a studio lot. There are multiple mentioned ships but no focus here today, this is just a fun little gen fic idea I had! When does this take place? ..... UH... SO ANYWAY @winterpower98 CREATED THIS AU!

Looks like we’re going to be stuck here for a while./You call this luck? No, this is all skill.

No one was prepared when the crash of thunder shook the studio building and the lights flickered out. The cameras followed suit, along with all the other equipment, and everyone breathed a sigh of relief over the fact they hadn't been filming any stunts that day and none of the actors in need of the more labor intensive costumes had been fitted yet as it was still early in the day.

“IS EVERYONE OK!?” Niu Mowang yelled out, his voice carrying through the now quiet set easily without the noise of the electronic equipment (as expected for the actor of the Demon Bull King, he needed that stage presence and it seemed to be coming in useful). “SOUND OFF!”

“I’m ok!” “Me too!” “Whoever has a phone turn on your flashlight!” “IT’S FUCKIN DARK AS SHIT.”

The last one was said by Long Xiaojiao, earning a chorus of surprised and grateful laughter as multiple people did as requested by the director. The lights helped a bit, making it at least possible for those around the set to move to a slightly safer location. They all jumped as another thunder clasp struck closer, truly shaking the entire building this time and making even the most sturdy of them shake in worry.

After another moment of darkness there was a flicker and a low hum as the dim emergency lighting for the set building came to life.

“Alright everyone, that 'little storm' they called for today is apparently way more intense than they claimed it would be,” the director said with a frustrated and worried sigh, and everyone was thankful they had moved everything they needed inside the day prior in preparation. “Looks like we’re going to be stuck here for a while, given the emergency lighting. Hey!" He turned to another staff member, pulling out his phone in the process. "Can you and the new guy help me call the rest of the cast and tell em to stay put? Alright, thanks!"

“I'll call my dad,” Qi Xiaotian yelled back to the director, looking at his own phone and appearing grateful they still had some signal.

He had come in along with Xiaojiao and anothered cast member ahead of most others (aside from Mowang, who had come in early alone for his... own reasons) to apparently work on some last minute changes to the script that had been left with the young actor the night prior. He supposed that when the script writer was dating your father it made working on that kind of thing much faster (and boy was everyone happy they finally started outright dating, Mowang was starting to worry someone else would have to set them up with each other).

"Which one?" Xiaojiao asked with a chuckle and soft nudge to his shoulder, both jumping at another building shaking thunder clap. "Uh... maybe I should call my folks too... just to let them know what's up."

Mowang sighed, watching at the two youngest members of the cast that had already come in for filming that day moved around to another part of the set to sit and call their respective guardians. This was... odd. The storm was only supposed to last a short while and be no stronger than the normal thunderstorms they got in the area. By the time they were done filming inside the storm should have subsided... but the sounds outside made him second guess if they could even leave on time safely. Normal thunderstorms do not shake buildings this hard or come on this fast.

In the middle of his thoughts the large man felt the brush of a smaller hand on his arm as someone sumbled, startling him into looking over and reaching out a hand to steady them reflexively.

"Mr. Cheung?" Mowang raised a brow as he caught the clearly worried expression on his face. "Is everything alright?"

"Oh, yeah! Totally fine, peachy even!" Dicky Cheung, their very own Sun Wukong (and Mowang still wondered after all this time about what his full proper name was, given Dicky was apparently a stage name and Cheung was his family name, but he hadn’t found the right moment to ask), answered with an overly happy chuckle and a shake of his head. "Just, uh, tripped a bit!"

Well that was... odd. He normally was a lot more poised than this. And as far as any of the actors on set knew he wasn't particularly scared of storms.

"Are you sure you're OK? You seem agitated," Mowang raised an eyebrow, noting that the other man was watching Xiaotian and Xiaojiao. Maybe he was just worried about the younger cast members? "Have you had anything to eat this morning?"

"Huh?" Mr. Cheung looking up at him with a raised brow of his own, confusion lacing his features for a moment before he looked off into the distance and frowned. "... actually... I think I forgot breakfast..?"

"Well that won't do!" Mowang scowled with a sigh, placing a hand on Mr. Cheung's back and firmly leading him toward the refreshment table. "You get to tell me how I did then."

"How you what no-Oh!" His question was answered as quickly as it had been asked, and Mr. Cheung couldn't seem to help his laugh. "So that's why you came in early."

"I wanted it to be a surprise, but it looks like we got a bigger one," the larger man said with a chuckle, picking up a thick slice of one of the bread loafs himself. "It's my first time trying to make some of these."

"I bet Tie Shan would have been extremely impressed," Mr. Cheung said with a smile before grabbing a piece from a different loaf and taking a large bite, making a pleased sound in response. "There are peach chunks in this!"

"I, uh, thought you'd like that one... guess I got lucky," Mowang couldn't help bit stumble his words a bit and blush at the reaction and mention of Shan before eating his sweet potato bread. The batch had turned out good! A little heavy, but good. "You think the young-uns would feel a bit better if they had a snack?" He nodded his head to Xiaotian and Xiaojiao, watching as another clasp of thunder shook them again and the young man un particular held onto his friend like a lifeline.

"You call this luck?" Mr. Cheung seemed to have tensed again, but his tone was light and his smile was more relaxed. "No, this is all skill. You need to give yourself more credit off the stage. And I bet they would."

He flashed his signature bright smile before rushing over to the younger actors, saying something to Xiaotian after Xiaojiao rushed off to possibly tell everyone else about the snacks. Mowang could have sworn he heard something about someone "messing with and angering a demon who could control the weather", but that had to be a metaphor of some kind.

After an hour no one could figure out where Dicky Cheung had disappeared to until he reappeared after the storm finally let up. He looked fine but... Mowang could have sworn he had changed into similar but not identical clothes and his hair was wet...

Weird.

#monkie kid #lego monkie kid #gen fic #actor au #mk #qi xiaotian #mei #long xiaojiao #sun wukong #monkey king #niu mowang (dbk) #freenoodleshipping #(mentioned) #ironbull #(implied) #tie shan (pif) #(also mentioned) #prompt fill

[ren-therose]

You Are Like Me (Pt. 1 of "Winter's End)

Roommate!Bucky X F!Reader

Summary: You and Bucky begin rooming together after Sam discovers your background and suggests you live with him. . As another failed HYDRA experiment with an enhanced skill set, Sam decides that you, the newest recruit who shares a similar path with the Winter Soldier would benefit from living together.

Warnings: Angst, Fluff, Cursing, semi-spoilers for FATWS (but nothing plot related, just set during that time).

A/N: This started out as a one-shot for our man Bucky Barnes, but now there will be multiple pieces with this as the wonderful starting piece to the story. I don't know how much the parts will be reliant on a plot, but it will all be based on the same love story throughout. The parts don't necessarily need to be read all together and in order. There will be a variety with this couple, varying from angst to smut, fluffy fluffy FLUFFY shit, and some very depressing stuff too. I hope that these different pieces fulfill all your Bucky needs and help you feel like you really have a developed and copasetic relationship with this lovely gentleman.

"Jesus, who the hell are you?"

I had been laying on a neatly made bed in the apartment Sam had signed me up for. I was staring at the ceiling mindlessly as an old record player spun, emitting the scratchy tones of classic 1940s music. In my hand was a small journal, opened to a blank page towards the middle of the book. My eyes shot open, my hand grabbing a knife from the back of my pants as I launched myself off the bed and towards the unfamiliar man in the doorway.

Before the knife could reach his throat, cool metal met my wrist, stopping my arm in its track. I was practically on top of the dark man in front of me, staring up into his bright cerulean orbs. He seemed almost amused by this first introduction. Almost. The glimmer of humor left his eyes as soon as my knee made contact with his groin, causing him to keel over, as I maneuvered around him to be behind, using his arms hold on me to choke himself.

"I could ask you the same question, blue eyes," I said with a snort. I realized quickly he wasn't an enemy, but the continued power struggle was fun enough to let it play out. Before I could plan my next move though, I was flipped over his broad shoulders, and square on my back, the impact knocking the wind out of me. I looked up through my lashes, trying to focus my eyesight as the splitting headache blurred my vision. Standing above me, the man let out a soft chuckle as he stepped over me, making his way over to the bed and sitting on the edge. I slowly lifted my head, still dizzy from the landing, as his eyes followed the outline of my body.

I was still in my training clothes, too tired to have changed out of the tight tank top and cargo pants. I had been perfecting my combat technique so that I could fend for myself, but it seems I was not yet ready to fight whoever the stranger in my room was.

"Here," he started, getting up from his place and reaching his right hand out to me. I stared at it for a moment, not sure if I should give in or not, though I could tell I would have to. I placed my hand in his, surprised by the contrasting warmth I felt compared to the hand he had caught my wrist in. He quickly pulled me up, causing me to launch into his chest, my left arm quickly wrapping around his bicep to steady myself.

"You can feel me up later doll, but can you explain what the hell you are doing in my room?" He taunted.

I realized that his colder hand was on the small of my back and I leaned back into grasp as I sneered "I could say the same for you..." I noticed the outline of dog tags imprinted underneath his shirt, glancing back up into his eyes with a wink, "Sarge".

He let go, allowing me the chance to step back and start searching for my knife. I could feel his eyes on me, questions waiting to be asked.

"You are Seragnet Barnes, correct?" I mused, grabbing my weapon from the corner and twirling it in my hand before replacing it in its holster. The corner of his mouth twitched into a smile at my maneuver, but quickly looked down and cleared his throat before replying.

"Yes ma'am. And I apologize for not knowing your name, as well as for throwing you," he grunted. It was suddenly a very formal manner in which he spoke. My eyebrow quirked up, as I spun on my heels and made my way into the kitchen, hearing heavy footsteps follow in time.

"Y/N".

"And what are you doing in my room, Y/N?" he said inquisitively. I was now the freezer for an ice pack, finding a floppy blue one in the back.

"I guess, I'm your roommate," I shrugged, putting the ice pack to the back of my head as I moved towards the bathroom.

"Wait, Sam told me I was meeting someone named "Y/L/N", they were gonna stay here for a bit," he retorted, once again following behind.

"That is my last name Blue Eyes. Need an ID or something?" I called over my shoulder, turning the corner to enter the bathroom, reaching towards the medicine cabinet.

"That still doesn't explain why you were on my bed," he scoffed, leaning against the door frame as I scavenged through the drawers.

"I didn't think anyone was living here. I was told I'd have a roommate, but I didn't think anyone had moved in yet. You have, like, no shit here. It looks like a hotel room," I critique, standing up with a shake of the bottle in my hand.

"I'm using your Ibuprofen" I say with mock respect. I move past him as I saunter back towards the kitchen. He can't help but laugh at this bizarre encounter and that I am truly not making this easy for him.

"You have a lot of sass for someone who just had their ass beat," he jeers, leaning forward on the counter between us.

All I could do was smile and shake my head, throwing the pills into my mouth and taking a swig of water.

"So, Y/L/N, why do you figure we Sam is rooming us together?"

"Love match?" I joke, placing the now empty cup in the sink and walking over to his side, leaning my back against the countertop.

He snorts, amused by my sarcasm once more. "Maybe, but I have a feeling it goes deeper," he says, turning to rest his side on the counter as he looks me over, clearly searching for something.

"You aren't gonna find any metal attached to me, Barnes," I report, turning to brace myself against the counter. "They messed me up in here." I gesture to forehead, softly tapping to get my point across.

His face falls as he realizes what I mean.

"HYDRA..." was all he could make out.

"They weren't just trying to make soldiers. They were trying to make spies. Hyper intelligent ones that can be manipulated without the risk of losing control or access, like a computer could. I am their failed experiment," I say softly. I chuck the ice pack into the sink, and make my way over to the window, rubbing at the back of my head.

"You have super soldier serum. I have an acute memory and the ability to calculate probable outcomes and human error. I remember..." I turn back to look him in the eye, "everything".

His mouth slightly gapes as he looks me over. "I was a lethal weapon when placed in sensitive situations. If I knew the possible endings of different scenarios, I could pick which one could happen."

He steps towards me, as if he was considering whether to comfort me. Before he could though, I straightened up and tried to scurry past him.

"I am so sorry for invading your space, I'll take my stuff out of your room. I can stay on the couch until-" The Winter Soldier cut me off, grabbing my arm before I could make it into the room.

"No, take the bed, please," he began. "I don't sleep in it anyways. Too comfy."

My eyes go from the grip on my arm up to his eyes, staring down at me, but with concern. I softened my face, providing a half smile as I nodded my head.

"Okay, Sarge. Let's eat though- I'm starving. You order the pizza while I take a shower. Then we can talk."

He let me go, looking down into my eyes, "I think I know your favorite kind."

I raised a brow at this bet, curious to see if he was right. "Alright...we will see..."

I turned and made my way towards the bathroom, looking back to see him still watching.

---

Shit, I don't have my clothes.

I was dripping from the shower still and my hair was very haphazardly put in a bun to keep the water from dripping. I quietly opened the door and peeked my head out, searching for my new roommate. When I had determined the coast was clear, I scurried into the room, shutting the door behind me quietly. When I turned around, I shrieked to see James exiting my closet, a few shirts in hand.

"What the fuck Barnes!!" I choke, desperately clutching my towel, as I had almost lost my grip. He dropped the shirts to the ground, slapping his hand over his eyes in case I did lose my covering.

"Damn, Y/L/N, let me buy you dinner first!" He laughs, trying to make his way to the door.

"Oh you are SO paying for the pizza now Barnes," I fume, adjusting my towel and making my way to the other side of the bed where my bag was.

"So you're saying I can look?"

"You just scared me, I'm decent you prick". I kneeled down beside the bed, opening my bag to see that all of my clothes were missing.

"Are you. fucking. SHITTING ME?" I curse, banging my already sore head onto the side of the bed.

"What did I do this time," the soldier groans.

"No, it's not you, it's just that...well shit. My clothes are missing."

"Oh yeah. I threw them in the wash for you. You weren't carrying a lot, and it's a force of habit from the old days, I thought they would be done by now but-"

"Sergeant?" I interrupt, seething with rage and a tinge of embarrassment.

"Y/L/N?"

"I don't have any clothes," I hiss.

"oh." he says shortly. I press my face into the bed, trying not to scream bloody murder. Suddenly, I feel two soft things land on me, causing me to turn my face to the side.

"Sweats and a shirt. Don't do anything weird," he quipped, leaving me in the room alone.

I look down at the black sweats and navy blue shirt. It was soft, and smelled of fabric softener and pine. I looked up at the empty hallway as I heard the front door open and shut behind him as he went to get the pizza.

I slipped on the clothes and looked myself over in the mirror. I decided to let my hair down to air dry, and the rest of me looked swallowed in his clothes. His sweats were pulled tightly around my hips, exposing my stomach when I stood. The shirt would probably be form fitting on him, but it just barely gave me a shape, though my chest clung to the fabric. I didn't know what this meant, but whatever it was felt nice.

---

"I got the pizza, and Sam already confirmed I was right about it being your favorite so..." James trailed off as he saw me standing in the kitchen, leaning over a brochure of sorts. I looked up to see him holding pizza in one hand and soda in the other as his eyes widened at my get up.

"No snappy remark, blue eyes? Wow, they just keep getting wide-" he cut me off by throwing the box down in front of me.

"Movie?" he muttered, quickly making his way past towards the living room.

"uh...okay. Can we watch 'Casablanca'?"

He turned around, looking at me with confusion.

"You know that movie? That was made almost 80 years ago."

"I'm a sucker for the classics, James," I say, grabbing the pizza and soda of the counter and bringing it to the coffee table.

"Bucky, please. We're gonna be living together and already saw you half-naked," he chides, sitting down on the couch and flipping it on with the remote.

"Okay, Bucky, do you remember the plot?" I probe, sitting myself next to him as I placed two glasses in front of us. I pulled my legs up to cross and adjusted the waist of my pants to sit above my stomach more comfortably. He was leaning back into the sofa, as I was turned to face him, waiting patiently for a response.

"I mean, I remember looking back on it and how terribly it depicted the war. It was not easy to find love abroad," he stated, reaching to grab a slice of pizza.

"Were you looking for love?"

"I was looking for fun. I was pretty sure I was gonna die, or at least not make it back. I was kind of right," he finished, biting into the slice.

"Yeah, not a lot of love in present day HYDRA safe-houses either. Not that I had time for it between missions, I say, leaning over to pour the drinks.

"Well what were you before...them?"

"A history student, if you can believe it. Wanted to study abroad and learn about wars, apply it to algorithms to prevent them. Seems like the common denominator was always men," I reply with a wink.

"I can't say you are wrong. But I am impressed. And now..."

"Now, I'm protected by the Avengers, er- what's left of them, and am able to use my skills for good. All of that history knowledge, everything I have ever learned and forgotten about, I can remember it all". I looked him up and down. "I didn't recognize you without the long hair and this stubble thing kinda threw me off, it's not the same as the pictures in the museum".

He adjusted his angle to better face me, curiosity etched across his features. "You really are something," he contended. The comment caused me to pull back, shocked by his honesty.

"I...uh..." I stammer, unsure of how to proceed.

"If you're going to say thank you, don't bother. It's just a fact," he noted, once more causing me to fall to silence.

He started looking up the movie, struggling with the technology of the remote.

As I studied him, the tension in his jaw, the stress he carries in his eyes, I realized I shared similar features.

"ты как я," I whisper under my breath, unsure if he even heard me.

You are like me.

I knew when he straightened up, and slowly looked in my direction.

"я знаю," he replied.

I know.

I reached my hand out to his arm, resting it on gently.

"What does this mean?" I asked softly.

"I'm not quite sure."

------

The next morning, I awoke to the smell of deep roast coffee.

Bucky and I had spent almost the entire night talking. We skimmed around the dark parts of our past, knowing that there would be time for that, but instead got to know the things that really shaped who we are today.

He really enjoyed his time in Wakanda. It was incredibly healing for him, and allowed him a chance to find piece, something we ex-soldiers and spies rarely could get. He told me about his life in the 40s, or what he could remember. A lot of his memories has been formed with the help of Steve, which I knew caused him pain. But he also found happiness in retelling those stories, knowing that someone else will see him as more than the Winter Soldier.

I shared my experience abroad. I had been all across the USA, in Canada, both Iceland and Greenland, Poland, France, Italy, Turkey, London, and of course Sokovia. It was were I had been taken during my travels. I had never told anyone about this before, but I had felt so comforted knowing that he had been through something so similar.

I don't know when, but at some point in the night, I had ended up falling asleep propped up on the couch. When I woke up in my bed the next morning, I realized it must have been him. I looked down to see I was still wearing his shirt, and smiled to myself. When I got up, I found his sweats on the floor, knowing I probably kicked them off when I got into bed. I stepped back into them, pulling them up around my legs and tying them once more on my hips. I looked in the mirror, my hair limp and flat from sleep. Checking my phone, I walked out, scratching my head and rubbing my face, yawning as the coffee smell grew stronger.

"доброе утро," he greets me, smirking at the confused face I made.

"No Russian. Too early. Try again later," I mumbled, jumping up to sit on the counter. He held up the sugar, shaking it in my face.

"Two to three teaspoons please," I groan, pushing the container out of my face.

"Someone likes it sweet," he laughs, dumping in my unhealthy request.

"And creamer, if you have some," I added, smiling as he turned towards the fridge.

"Did you know you speak Russian in your sleep?"

"I bet you do the same. All HYDRA escapees probably," I mutter, taking the mug from his hands.

"Well, you will have to let me know sometime," he chides, taking a sip of his own black coffee.

"Last night was...."

"Traumatizing?"

"Yeah, but maybe healing too?"

"Good," he exclaims, walking over to the couch. He sits down, swiping his phone off the charger next to him.

"Before you have to go, do you want some breakfast?" I offer, scanning his response to my inquiry.

"Is that your power thing? You knew they would ask me to work today?" He questions, looking down at the phone and then back at me.

"It's a skill, not a power. I'm not a superhero," I laugh, getting out the contents for a breakfast sandwich.

"Yes, I would like one. But you already knew that didn't you?"

"No skills required. Tony texted me this morning too. We are training together."

He smiled. He almost looked excited.

"I'm gonna beat your ass again Y/L/N".

"You wish".

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

Every day, we played out the same routine.

I would wake up to the smell of freshly brewed coffee. I'd come out, thank him and proceed to make us breakfast. We would then go to combat training for a few hours. When he wasn't helping me, he was working on his own workout routine; often, he would put aside time to just focus on improving my knife skills. He would always joked that I showed promise after out first encounter, and then would promptly beat my ass in a knife fight.

After training, it would be time to meet Sam for lunch, chat about our personal lives (which were rarely separated from our work), as well as current issues in the Avengers, and the world.

Bucky always stayed close by when we were out and about, glancing over to make sure I was okay. I would signal back that it was okay, smiling as a way of thanks when I noticed him checking. The only time we went our separate ways for our "rehab plans" we called jokingly. He would go see his therapist while I went and saw mine. Then, he would meet Sam for a bit by himself, while I went back to our place and did paperwork. When he came home, we would decide on dinner and a movie, but would probably stay up the whole night talking and leaving the movie with at least 20 minutes to go (on a good night).

One night, after I had "magically" ended up in bed, I woke up to Bucky shaking me, yelling my name.

"Y/N! Y/N, it's me, it's Bucky! Come on Y/N, wake up!"

I was drenched in sweat and my voice felt coarse and raw. My heart was beating at an impossible rate, as I shot up to hold on to him.

"Y/N, it's okay, you're okay," he said, trying to calm me down as he pushed my wet hair off of my face. I was gripping his arms, trying my best to ground myself. My eyes were bloodshot and wet, as tears and sweat mixed down my face. His blue eyes were frantically searching me, making sure that I was okay.

"It was them Bucky, they were here, they were gonna hurt you, I couldn't move, they said the, they said the words Bucky, jesus I was gonna lose you Buck, I couldn't, I can't..." I trailed off, starting to hyperventilate as I buried my face in his chest, allowing him to pull me closer.

He held me against him, shushing me as he ran his hand through the back of my hair. His chin rested atop my head as I regained control of my breathing. As my heart rate lowered and the sound of blood rushing through my ears subsided, I heard him say softly:

"I could never leave you Y/N, I can't...you mean to much to me..."

I didn't know if he realized I heard him, but it made me relax into him a little more. We didn't move for I don't know how long, just holding each other, breathing in sync. I could feel myself start to get sleepy, and began to slump more and more into him. He could feel the wait of me on his chest, and softly laid me back into the bed. When I was settled in, he started to scoot backwards towards the edge of the bed, before I grabbed his arm.

"Stay. Please. Stay," I barely whispered.

He looked down at me, tucked under the covers in an oversized t-shirt with my hair a crazy mess around my face. My eyes were glassy and red from crying, but my grip on his arm was sure.

"Please Buck."

I pulled back the covers next to me, signaling the invitation that I meant it.

He was only in a T-Shirt and boxers in himself, but nevertheless, he climbed in anyways. As he slid down, I pulled myself into him, hugging his torso as the scent of his fabric softener filled my nose.

He wrapped his arm under my head and around me, the other to my back, sheltering me from my nightmares as I drifted back to sleep. When I woke up, my head was resting on top of his chest, his hand still in my hair. I could count his steady heartbeats over time, our breathing once more in time together. I glanced up to see his stubbly face, in a serene sleep. I had heard him up late at night, wandering in the living room. I am sure he had nightmares like me, but I was the unlucky one to have the first terror while we were roommates.

I couldn't help but realize that he put a shirt on.

He never wore a shirt to sleep.

I knew this because I had woken up a time or two to go to the bathroom, and he would be there, on the floor, practically shining as the moonlight radiated off of his skin. It was almost impressive.

So he put a shirt on when he came in to help me last night. I guess it is respectful of him. I mean, everything about last night, or at least what I could remember, made me feel safer than I had in a very long time. Bucky always made me feel safe, but now, lying on his chest, it was deeper than two former soldiers-it was intimate.

I couldn't stop myself, I inched slightly up, lifting my head to his face, practically nose to nose. I could feel him exhale as the air left his nose and tickled my face. I leaned down, just off to the right side of his mouth and softly kissed him. I couldn't kiss him on the lips, but I needed to put it out there, even if he was asleep. I laid back down next to him, facing the ceiling as I felt him softly stir next to me. I tried to discreetly roll away, my body turned away from him, screwing my eyes closed.

I could feel the bed shift underneath me as he awoke. I could feel him leaning over me, checking to see that I was "asleep". Then, I felt his lips on my forehead, pressing a gentle kiss to my temple.

"You can't get away with it that easily Y/N"

My eyes slowly opened, as if afraid I would see it was all a dream, and he wouldn't be there. Instead, he was looking down at me, his head cocked to the side with a crooked smile dancing on his lips. Concern was etched on my brow, though my mouth betrayed me in a half smile as I stared back at the blue eyed soldier.

"I uh-I didn't, uh, mean to wake you Bucky, I'm sorry, I don't know what came over me," I stuttered out, worried that I might have made him feel pressured to return the favor.

I was surprised when his arm reached for my waist, pulling me from my side to my back as he rested his hands on either side of me. Trapped underneath him, my train of thought was so far off the rails, my ability to even speak was completely hijacked.

"Y/N, you have no idea how long I had been waiting for you to do something like that," he confessed. I quivered underneath him, my only response to his words. He was now hovering above my torso, propped up on his forearms as he continued to ramble.

"I never wanted to pressure or impose anything against you. I thought that you felt it too, and I wanted to be a gentleman, but with last night and you wanting me to stay, and now this morning..., I just wanted to make sure that I am reading the signals right an-"

He was cut off by my hand on the back of his neck, pulling him up to my face where our noses connected once more. His eyes were piercing, searching mine frantically before I closed them and pulled him down. Our lips attached to one another, fitting together softly, one on top of the other. His arm slid underneath my back and pressed me into him as my arm wrapped around his neck, my other hand holding his face. I could feel the metal against my waist, but it was warmer than usual, probably due to being under the covers all night. After years of torture and pain for the both of us, this kiss made terrors of that night worth it. It brought him and I together.

As we pulled away, our lips still stuck to the others until there was enough distance to truly focus our eyesight on the other. Pupils dilated, chests rising and falling against each other, our status shifted from roommates to something more in seconds. Maybe we were always something more and we hadn't realized it until now. But none of the what ifs mattered now. Now, there was a certainty that Bucky and I had a future together.

-------

A/N: This made me cry. A lot. The angst, the coping skills, the little sparks of chemistry. I just love writing about this man. He is everything a girl could ask for. I will start writing a part two tomorrow and I can promise you, it is about to be a lot cuter, a lot smuttier, and a lot more BUCKKKYYYY.

Taglist: @n3ssm0nique @arctic-duchess @bluemoon-icecream

#bucky barnes #bucky x reader #bucky imagine #bucky fluff #bucky flirting #bucky x y/n #bucky angst #mcu #marvel #winter solider x y/n #winter soldier x reader #sebastian stan #sebastian stan fanfiction #bucky barnes series

[1engele]

daybreak | sal fisher x fem!reader - 2. math

Previous | Next

[warnings: cursing, mention of smoking, mention of household abuse of a teenager]

"what a plot twist you were."

—

The next day, you'd wakened with dry lungs and an even drier mouth.

It was true that smoking was bad for you—but it hadn't been as horrible as you'd thought. You'd try it again, but you couldn't see yourself becoming addicted.

Your mother wasn't home, again. You were quick to understand that she worked longer shifts now and you wouldn't see her a whole lot.

Not like you cared. Michelle never really liked you all that well. You'd probably have been dumped on the street a long time ago had your father not legally obligated to pay child support.

You'd never known him. You weren't sure if you wanted to.

She doesn't use child support for your well-being. Probably uses it to continuously feed her crippling gambling addiction and buy more pointless flowers for the apartment.

You were nervous about today. You'd never been the new girl before—and you didn't know what to expect about these kids. You doubted they were as cool as people as Larry and Sal.

You showered and put on your boyfriend jeans—which had holes in the knees, but you couldn't bother to concern yourself whether or not that conflicted with the dress code or not— and your light grey hoodie. You added a flannel on top of that which was a little too big for you. Don't forget the white sneakers which you should probably replace.

You pocketed your flip phone and slung your bag over your shoulder. Stopping in front of the mirror, you passed a hand through your hair, decided it was adequate, and walked into the kitchen. You grabbed an apple—you never really found yourself hungry in the mornings. Besides, it wasn't like your mother was around to make sure you were fed—and left the apartment.

You locked the door behind you and shoved the keys into the front pocket of your bag afterward.

You met with Sal and Larry at the foot of the front steps of the apartments, like you'd agreed the day prior. You couldn't help but feel a little nervous as you opened the door and walked down the three stairs.

"Hey!" Larry greets you first.

"Hey, Larry," you smile weakly, as you're not fully awake yet, but it still means as much as a smile you'd give him when you were awake. You turn your eyes to Sal, waving shortly. You were momentarily startled when you realized he'd already been looking at you. "Hi, Sal."

"Hey," he says your name pleasantly. "How are you feeling?"

It was sweet that he was concerned about your well-being. "Alright. My lungs hurt."

He hooked a thumb around the strap of his bag and slid it up and down. His hands were pale and veiny. His nails were painted black and the polish was chipped in a few places. "Yeah. You did a shit-ton of coughing."

You open your mouth to reply, but before you can he meets your eyes. His head is inclined slightly downward, tilted a bit. He peers at you through the shadows of the mask. Lash-fringed, blue angel eyes bore through yours.

His eyes are opalescent. It's almost as if every time you look at them they were a different shade of blue.

You're sure your gazes hadn't connected for more than 3 seconds but the feeling that spawns inside of you from that short contact is slightly jarring. You don't necessarily comprehend what is stirring in your gut and you don't have time to because Larry's speaking breaks through your reverie.

He begins to talk about the chaos the first day of school would be. You quickly forget what had happened before.

But nothing had happened. It was nothing.

When you'd arrived at school after a little bit of walking, you, Larry, and Sal received your schedules together.

"Fuck me," you murmur, mostly to yourself, as you look down at your paper. "Math is first. This always happens to me."

Larry laughs loudly. "Yeah. That does suck. Mrs. Packerton looks like a walking corpse."

Sal jerks his head upward from his schedule. "That's fucked, Larry. She's an old lady."

"I don't care. Pretty sure she's secretly evil anyway."

Sal looks as though he's done reasoning with how harshly true Larry is most of the time. He shakes his head and looks back at you. "Well, if it's any consolation—I've also got math first. So, you know. We could go together," he pauses. "If you want."

You grin. "Yeah. Sure. At least I'll know someone there."

Larry flicks his eyes between the both of you before stopping them on Sal. "Hopefully you won't have Travis again," His eyebrows twitch. "He always has math first."

"Travis?" You echo curiously.

The two boys exchange a glance.

"Just a guy we know who-" Sal starts, hurrying to finish the sentence.

He was rushing so Larry wouldn't cut in and say something but it happened before he even had a chance. "He's a little fucker we know who gives Sal shit. 24/7. He makes my blood boil."

You furrow your eyebrows. "What- why? What's wrong with him?"

"Nothing," Sal replies. "Pretty sure he's really troubled. Not unlike the rest of us."

"Doesn't mean he should take it out on other people." Larry scoffs. "I know it bothers you, dude."

Sal doesn't reply—seems as though he's growing uncomfortable speaking about all of it.

"Hey, guys!"

A voice calls, having grown closer halfway through her sentence. You all turn towards it. A girl, leggy and taller than both you and Sal, with long locks and eyes greener than a spring clover. There was something homey in the way her chocolate brown hair brought warmth to her features.

A boy is beside her, with ginger hair with eyes a deep shade of the richest earth. His skin is pale and freckled. He carries himself with an air of bluntness and just a little bit awkwardly—his facial expression is very blank, you note.

"Hey, Ash. Shocked you aren't late," Larry grins.

"Ash" rolls her eyes at him and mirrors his expression. "You know Todd would never let that happen."

"No, I wouldn't." Todd deadpans.

Ash turns toward you after laughing enough to flash the white gleam of her teeth and a slight dimple in her cheek. "Hey!" She then says your name prettily and juts out her hand. "Nice to meet you. I'm Ashley."

You don't ask her how she knows your name. Instead, you sincerely smile, take her hand and shake it. "Nice to meet you," you return, and then turn toward Todd. "You, too."

Todd is already an interesting character. He doesn't smile but his expression is cordial. "Welcome to Nockfell."

Your smile widens.

"Have you guys gotten your schedules yet?" Sal speaks up after having been quiet for a moment. He must've been reading over his schedule to himself.

"Oh! Yeah," Ashley opened her other hand, the one she hadn't shaken your hand with, and unfolded a now very crumpled piece of paper. She passed summer green over the list. "I've got biology."

Todd didn't even look at his list. "I have history."

Sal looks at you. His gaze easily levels with yours. "Looks like it's just me and you then."

Your face feels hot. "Haha," you suddenly feel nervous. "You're right. Sit beside me, okay?"

His eyebrows jump—that much you can tell by the way his eyes move. Tucking a strand of loose blue hair behind his ear, he replies: "Will do."

His ears are double pierced.

The bell's shrill ringing floods the halls. You wince, and you and Sal's eye contact is broken. Before that happens, though, you see Larry grinning to himself.

Weirdo, you think lightheartedly.

Everyone parts after that. Larry and Ash walk away together. They must both have biology, you thought. Todd leaves by himself to his respective class and you and Sal head towards math.

For a moment, the silence is unbearable. You've never been alone with a boy. Well, you weren't alone, just not in a group with other people. The noiselessness begins to bother you so you fleetingly think of something to say and blurt the first thing that comes to mind.

"The piercings," you say suddenly.

He turns his head toward you. You look up to him before looking straight. "What?"

Oh my god. Oh my god. Oh my god, you thought. All I do is make a mockery of myself.

"I like them!" you add, hurriedly. "They're pierced twice. That's really cool. Looks good on you."

He laughs shyly. "Thanks. I like your shoes."

"My shoes?" You look down and laugh. They were so worn. "Why?" You continue to giggle. "They're falling apart at the seams, haha."

"That's the best kind of shoe," he retorts. He jerks his chin towards his sneakers, a muted shade of cornflower blue. "Look at mine. They barely fit and they're- like, super constricting. Also super ratty—but I can't seem to get rid of them."

You laugh with him. "They look better than mine, at least."

You're glad the ice was broken so fast. You liked him.

The class was boring and uninteresting as any math class would be. You do work. You glance over at Sal a few times throughout the class—not to cheat, just to see how he was fairing—and he was writing answers down with a quick response time and humble confidence within the drawl of his handwriting.

Alright, so he was smart. Not much of a surprise there. You could tell just how perceptive of a boy he was.

You stared hopelessly at an answer on your sheet you'd yet to fill out and twirled the pencil around in your fingers.

Suddenly, a pale hand with black nails has nimbly reached over and hastily circled what you assume was the correct answer to the question with his pencil. You look up to Sal in surprise and appreciation, who's already back in his seat as if nothing had happened.

You giggle before you can stop yourself when he raises a hand and raises a finger in front of the prosthetic's mouth, to tell you "shh."

Mrs. Packerton slowly pivots away from the chalkboard and passes her eyes over the class. You and Sal quickly break eye contact and look down on your papers. Sal's shoulders shake in your peripheral vision and you press your knuckles to your lips and force a bored expression on your paper.

Before the bell rang, you noticed a blond boy with tan skin and caramel eyes in front of you and Sal, occasionally shooting your friend bitter looks. It left a sour taste in your mouth, but you didn't mention it.

You find Ash and Larry before your next class. You think you've burst a blood vessel from how hard you'd laughed when you left the classroom.

"I thought I'd cracked a rib," Sal states over your laughter. as you walked up to Larry and Ashley.

Larry and Ashley exchange a look. Larry is the first to state the obvious. "What the hell happened to you two?"

You and Sal look toward each other and make eye contact. That's the last straw. You cover your mouth and try and hold it in.

"I-" Sal inhales. "It doesn't matter," he breathes out, an amused lilt in his tone. "How was class?"

"Bad," Larry and Ashley reply, in synchronization.

"Really?" You ask, surprised. "Biology can be fun."

"This biology isn't," Ashley sighs. "Not when you're just staring at cells and organisms for 20 minutes and then being expected to do work on it and understand what's happening."

"Well, math wasn't any better," you reply. "If it's any consolation—I don't think I got any answers right except for the one Sal did for me."

"I thought math was fine," Sal chimes in.

"That's because you're fucking Albert Einstein reincarnate," Larry squints. "Please have mercy on our mortal souls, Math God."

"Oh my god," Sal looks down. "Please don't make this into another nickname."

"I like it!" Ashley grins.

You know they're teasing but you can't find it in you to join in after he helped you out in class. Instead, you resign into silence and watch as countless students filter through the halls, bumping into each other as they pass and chatting with their peers.

Through the crowd, at the far end of the hall, you see him. The blond boy who'd been eying Sal in class. He was looking at him in the same way he had been then, with threat and resent shadowing his polished amber eyes.

It looks as if he's readying himself to approach.

You glance toward Larry, Sal, and Ashley. They seem occupied well enough, so you slip into the crowd and head towards who you've now pieced together to be: "Travis," you state, as you stand in front of him. "That's you, right?"

He regards you with distaste. "Do I know you?"

You suck your teeth. "No," you tell him your name. "I came to ask you something."

Despite himself and his embitterment, his eyes shine with hesitant curiosity. You take that as your answer. In spite of his stance over you and his general advantage of being bigger, you hold his gaze with blunt intent.

"What were you planning on doing when you walked over?"

"Why do you fucking care what I do?"

You shrug. "I don't know, Travis. I just think you need to learn how to pick your battles."

"Pick my fucking battles.. you know what? I think I will go over there-"

As he takes a step forward, you raise your hand and your palm roughly hits his chest, stopping him in his tracks—not because of strength (he's at an advantage, and he could easily walk right through) but because of the views he had, or rather—the views pushed upon him.

You saw the golden cross swinging off of his neck as soon as you approached. You'd also seen the gnarly black eye he wore on his face.

It was safe to assume he was being beaten at home and by a parent. And, most of the time.. when an adult is religious they will use several methods to further push it upon their child. Like sinner's guilt. And abuse.

If Travis' extremely religious guardian were to ever find out he'd harmed a girl, especially under the eyes of many others—it wouldn't turn out very well for him.

Yes, maybe you were being manipulative. But you were being manipulative for the good of both Sal and Travis.

"Step down," you advised. "This won't go very well."

You steadily meet his eyes. The stare between the two of you lasts for an even amount of time. Finally, he breaks that contact, jerks away with you, huffs, and walks his way around you and down the hall.

After that, you returned with the excuse of exchanging books from your locker, after Larry had asked you where you had wandered off to. No one seemed to have noticed Travis standing ominously at the end of the hall or your altercation with him.

At the end of school, you were beat. You said goodbye to both Ashley and Todd. Afterward, you, Larry, and Sal head for Addison's Apartments.

"You know, we don't have to go home yet," you say.

The boys turn to you curiously, as you kick a pebble as you walk along the side of the road. The beginnings of the sunset blossom in the sky—orange and fruity like tangerine jelly and amaranth pink like homemade strawberry frosting. like home. It fills you up inside and makes you feel so sweet.

"You guys wanna see a movie?"

Larry grins. "We don't have money."

"Who says we need money?"

When you'd arrived at the movie theater, all three of you had circled to the side exit. After a few moments of waiting suspiciously, an older couple exited through the doors. Larry caught the handle before it closed, and you brushed past them and quickly entered the theater. Before the doors closed, you heard them mumbling about "pesky children," or something.

Once you'd gotten in, you scanned each screening room and what movie the doors said it was playing.

You and Sal decided on a scary movie. Larry was not amused. Whatsoever. Apparently, horror is not his thing.

Before you entered, you frowned.

"We have no popcorn.."

In moments, Larry was reaching into a nearby trash can and pulling out an empty bucket that improbably had popcorn inside of it at some point in time. He then walked away, holding this empty popcorn bucket. It was so bizarre and you would have laughed had not been extremely confused.

"What.." Sal murmured, looking to you. "You think he'll come back?"

"I don't know where he would even be coming back from," You admitted.

It wasn't very long until he'd returned, with the empty bucket he'd taken from the trash now full of popcorn.

"Mandatory free refills," He said to your baffled face, pointing toward the poster on the wall above the trash can which read exactly what he'd just said. "You can never forget the hustle, kids."

"Oh my god," Sal mumbled and you barely heard him beneath Larry's laughter.

The movie was horribly made, and it still somehow scared the shit out of Larry. It may as well have been a comedy with how hard you'd laughed. Multiple other people in the theater had told you to shut Larry up but that was impossible when he was screaming every time a shadow would come on screen or the scene would change.

You, being between Larry and Sal, originally thought you'd had the best seat. You were wrong. Not only was Larry cowering into you and screaming directly in your ear, but Sal had simultaneously begun to throw popcorn at Larry's face to shut him up. That only resulted in popcorn. All over.

Needless to say, you left before the movie ended because of the fear of being escorted out by the employees.

"I'm never seeing a movie with you again," Sal squinted towards Larry. The three of you were now on the way back to the apartments. The night was thick and pearly moonlight bounced off old the white of his prosthetic face. "I think my eardrums are bleeding."

"It's the horror movies! This isn't my fault. Both of you ganged up on me and chose it."

You giggled to yourself.

Sal, beside you, suddenly stopped. "Wait, Y/N."

You stopped, and Larry halted a few feet away, as he'd been walking a bit ahead. Sal leaned forward and reached toward your face. Your body felt as though it had been zapped and you stood still.

He reached into your hair and pulled out a piece of popcorn.

"Huh." You said, dumbly. "How'd that get there?"

Larry's approaching footsteps were fast and leggy. He reached into Sal's hand, plucked the piece of popcorn between his fingers and fucking ate it.

"Jesus Christ, I can't do this anymore," Sal shook his head.

"What? It looked okay."

Recovering quickly from whatever had happened to you, you laughed.

You also inwardly denied what your body was feeling because you knew it was much too soon.

#sally face #sally face x reader #sal fisher x reader