#because of that stupid beautiful Fade egg!

[bassettmemes]

SCREAM VI SENTENCE STARTERS ↳ spoilers will be present and are tagged as such. general horror movie trope trigger warnings apply. death/murder, mentions of blood/gore, etc.

we have to finish the movie.

who gives a fuck about the movie?!

i always wanted to stick something in you, [name]!

this is creepy, right?

he's after me! he's got a knife!

the worst part is: you teach a class about slashers, and you still walked into a dark alley. alone.

[name] wouldn't be caught dead at a frat party.

get me a drink!

we said we wouldn't use the voice modulator on each other.

it was even better than we ever even imagined.

is that why you killed her? because she gave you a c-?

come on, [name]. how long have we known each other?

why are you fucking with me?

you know what? this is stupid.

what i'm really worried about is [name].

every time i push you for specifics, you shut down.

i have trust issues.

my father was a famous serial killer. they made a movie about him.

last year i found out that my boyfriend was also a serial killer.

i stabbed him 22 times and slit his throat, and then shot him in the head. that's not why i'm here.

it felt... right.

i'm not equipped to deal with this kind of thing.

by law, i'm required to report this to the authorities.

who the fuck is [name]?!

she went to the omega kappa beta party.

i cannot speak to how heavily armed [name] is at this fraternity party.

it doesn't bother you? being at a house party after you were almost brutally murdered at a house party?

i guess i should stay close to you, then.

why don't you get your fucking hands off her?

i'm just gonna tase you in the balls real quick.

don't ever lay hands on my sister.

are you fucking kidding me?

you embarrassed me!

if i wanna hook up with an asshole, that's my decision!

you're not dealing with what happened to us!

i'm uninterested in living in the past like you are.

so you're just gonna pretend like it never happened?

i'm just trying to look out for you.

you can't do it for the rest of my life, though. you have to let me go.

i think you're really special.

did i cockblock you?

please stop saying the word cock.

i can't help but notice you're covered in cherry coke.

being famous isn't all it's cracked up to be.

the last two people who fucked with us ended up dead.

do you have alibis for earlier tonight?

i met [name] at that party. where i tased someone. unrelated.

i take a special interest in ghostface attacks...

we share a certain history...

do you think you're the reason the ghostface killer has come to the big apple?

stay away from us.

are you really still mad at me?

i heard you couldn't sell the movie rights.

you called me unstable and a born killer.

maybe you're just afraid that without ghostface in your life, you're gonna fade away.

what's a requel?

you're beautiful, sweetie. hold all questions until the end.

am i gonna die a virgin?

that was a weird overshare...

why am i on the suspect list?

the slutty roommate: a horror movie classic.

never trust the love interest.

what if the trauma you all went through made one, or more, of you snap?

that's pretty messed up.

it's like he's leaving us real-life franchise easter eggs.

it's like he's counting down to something.

forget about the movies; the movies don't matter.

did you just give us a nickname?

you can't just give yourself a nickname, dingus.

we have all been through some really fucked up stuff and we are all coping with it differently.

we're a team.

i've been sleeping with cute boy from across the hall.

i freaking knew it! i knew it, i knew it, i knew it!

yeah, she's my roommate, but you're, like, the police.

she's really freaked out.

oh, fuck, that guy's dead!

say something more positive!

you fuck with my family, you die.

sorry i punched you...

when did they start letting children into the fbi?

you look like a zygote.

i'm just really good at my job. you'll get there.

it's not just a theater, it's a shrine.

how did they get all this? isn't this evidence?

i had a crush on corey feldman...

okay. game recognize game.

when do i get to be a normal person again?

my parents suck to. you can still make your own family.

technically i did die. four minutes.

when i recovered, i got mad. i didn't want to spend the rest of my life being afraid of monsters. i wanted the monsters to be afraid of me.

bitch, last time i saw you, you were in glee club.

did you really think we were gonna steal a police car and not use the sirens?

that's a cop car! you can't steal a cop car!

spoiler alert: it never works out for the dipshit in the mask.

i'm scared.

i'll just give myself up. if this is what i have to do to keep you safe, it's worth it.

none of us would even be alive if it weren't for you.

he's gonna keep coming after us.

we want to lure him to a secure location and lure him inside.

and then we execute him. are you gonna help us?

let's kill the son of a bitch.

god damn it, i got it wrong again. what the fuck?

fuck this franchise.

don't trust anyone, remember?

you're not woodsboro. i'm sorry.

i cleared the whole place before you got here.

we turned it into a kill box.

we're safe here.

grab a weapon and clear this place yourself.

[name] has been on a downward spiral since the woodsboro murders last year.

they fired [name] two months ago for being mentally unstable. they're no longer with the fbi.

it's [name], they're the killer!

smile for the camera, motherfucker!

"dying" was a good way to get off the suspect list.

i got stu macher's mask. he was my favorite.

this is what we've been counting down to, [name].

fuck you!

i didn't commit those murders in woodsboro!

all the best lies are based on the truth.

there's the fucking killer.

we had to kill those two wannabe film students, because, well, we had to kill you first.

he was so pathetic.

looks like you're down another sibling.

always gotta shoot 'em in the head.

what's your favorite scary movie? i'm asking because you're in one now.

you're in my movie.

my father was a murderer. no matter what you think, i'm better than that.

i promise you i'm going to get so much therapy after this.

we're all part of the same fucked up family now.

did i miss the monologue again?!

#scream 6 sentence starters #scream vi sentence starters #scream six sentence starters #sentence starters #sentence starter #rp prompts #roleplay prompts #rp prompt #writing prompts #writing prompt #horror prompts #horror sentence starters #scream 6 spoilers // #scream vi spoilers // #spoilers // #long post //

[no-face-no-shame]

"His face had an expression of calm, as though almost glad the end had come"

I've just finished watching the Netflix adaptation of "All Quiet on the Western Front" and I have some thoughts. The first one being - I haven't seen such marvelous screen adaptation in a while, despite the changes introduced to the plot. So if you're any interested in what I have to say, let me elaborate.

I'm a big fan of anti-war literature, though "fan" might be a bit of a strange way of phrasing it. But I've read enough of the "genre classics" to have some general knowledge of how those stories are usually developed (might be just me being Easter European. Specifically Polish. We know something about wars.) And AQotWF is one of my favourites, alongside "Catch 22" and "King Rat." Throughout the whole movie I was in awe of how well it translates the atmosphere of the book. How well it establishes the characters, especially Kat (I'll talk about the characters later.) You immediately submerge into their world, you feel for them and you're anxious whenever they go into battle. My big problem with modern movies is how they just don't let you connect with the characters by rushing the plot. Here it's not a thing. AQotWF says exactly what it wants and how it wants.

The visuals are spectacular. I took some screenshots I'm planning on redrawing due to how beautifully filmed this movie is. And, finally, it's not too dark!! You can see what's happening even in scenes located in bunkers or taking place at night! I freaking missed that so much. The same goes for sound - you understand what the characters say (my knowledge of German is VERY limited, still I often didn't need the subtitles because the dialogues were recorded clearly.) The lighting does miracles, it perfectly supports the mood. The usage of colour is great. I'm a big fan of close-up shots (details can add so much) and I love how this movie delivers the best of it, with focusing on the faces and especially eyes.

The music deserves its own paragraph. Scarce, used only when needed, but what an effect it gives... Again, one of the best soundtracks I've heard in a while. There wasn't a single scene where I thought to myself "can y'all cut the damn music", which happens to me more often than I wish it did. Especially the main theme uses a lot of sounds that remind of metal, of shots and explosions, perfectly matching what you see. And the music in the very last scene is just beautiful and gentle. I heard something similar in my head while finishing the book. Peace and relief.

Costumes? So damn good. Finally a movie where the costumes are well-made, with precision and care. Another reason why it's so easy to immediately get into the presented world - you just believe it's real due to what you see. Hairstyles, clothes, make-up. Everything is very realistic.

The same goes for the special effects, both in terms of explosions/shots and the corpses. The scene with tanks and flamethrowers was a shocking experience even to me, someone used to war movies, due to how real it seemed. The tanks emerge from the mist like animals, some kind of monsters. Mind you, WW1 was the first time tanks were used and they weren't as common as in WW2. The absolute hysteria of the soldiers is so real because they indeed had no idea what to do while facing a tank. The sets are very detailed, the bleak views of the battlefield and faded, winter forests are again a visual masterpiece.

Now the changes. To me the most questionable change done was Kat's death. I prefer the book version - it was more moving. On the other hand, the nonsense of his death in the movie creates his own quality. He survived a war waged by adult men just to be killed by a boy over a few eggs. Eggs that for both sides might mean either survival or death of starvation. It wasn't the stupid generals, bullets and tanks that were his end - the poor farmer boy who knew his family will starve was. Still, I'd prefer to see the book version of events. While reading I was touched by Paul's desperation and dedication to saving his friend, and by Kat who wasn't able to tell Paul that he's been hit in the head, meaning that the wound was fatal. Paul's endeavour in carrying Kat across the battlefield, at some point already a dead body, was a great summary of how during war your effort might mean nothing just because you happen to be unlucky. If it was about skill, Kat would survive. From all of them, Kat should. But he was unlucky that one damn time. When the war was basically over, he lost his own.

Another difference was the fate of Tjaden. In the book, it was Kemmerich who was shot in the leg and died because of an amputation. Here, we have Tjaden who got shot, though he doesn't let the wound kill him - he commits suicide using a fork. A pretty brutal scene I was kind of expecting at the very secnd I saw the way he looked at the fork in his hand. Interesting take on human desperation - he didn't want to live as a disabled person as it would make it impossible for him to work as a policeman (his biggest dream.) This change is quite alright with me. I know it was probably done to not introduce more characters (Kemmerich), though I'd like to see the motive of the boots being taken by Müller and then given to Paul when Müller died as well. The conflict between not wanting your friend to die and such a down-to-earth matter like wanting better boots, in the end turning out to be meaningless, is an important thing to include. Still, the change wasn't that significant and it certainly wasn't a negative one.

And then Paul's death. I really appreciate the fact that the main character of the story dies because that was the only way for his story to end. And he dies at the very end of the war, as if because he had nothing else to do. He wasn't able to return to his old life. There was nothing left of it - at that point his mother was probably already dead due to her illness and he couldn't just go back to his town and live like nothing happened. Especially surrounded by people like his father, who didn't understand the changes done to him by the war. Paul's friends were dead. He'd be able to live with that, even though there was no one left of his class. Who would he study with? But Kat was gone too and that was too much. Paul gladly accepts his death because he's died already a long time ago, during the first time on battlefield. What was left after that was a moving body that didn't have much in common with the joyful student who'd once inhabited it.

The gesture of climbing up the stairs of the bunker, into the light of the day, is a beautiful visual metaphor. We walks around the trenches and in the background we see soldiers of both sides just sitting or gathering their dead. A second ago they were killing each other. But now it's 11 o'clock. Now it's peace. And the young boy, so similar to Paul from the beginning of the movie, takes his scarf, a scarf that has once belonged to someone else, someone who had died way earlier and who was known by Paul, not by the boy. The object is carried on even though the memory died. One of my favourite things added to the movie.

To sum things up - spectacular movie. Very worth watching, even if you're not into this genre. And if you haven't read the book, do yourself a favour and read it. It's not very long and I believe it's one of the stories you just should know.

If you read all of that, here is some warm soup -> 🥘🍲 and some bread to go with it -> 🍞

#all quiet on the western front #movies #movie review #netflix #faceless #yeah remember that one peter rabbit review i wrote? i might be back on that bs even tho like 2 ppl read it #im westen nichts neues

[whoneedsapublisher]

Unexpected

Just some silly nonsense with Maki and Nico. Prompt was "Ninja".

Words: ~700

Summary: If there's one thing you can see about Nico, it's that she has a big presence. Despite her small frame.

Also on Ao3

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

“I don’t get you.”

Nico turned to look up at Maki as she stared down at her on the couch.

“What? What are you even talking about?” Nico asked.

Maki gestured towards the screen. “Why do you keep doing this?”

“What? Playing games? Because it’s fun.”

“Oh? You’re playing that game again?” Nozomi said, poking her head around the door from the other room. “I hope you’re not slacking off on your school work.”

“I already finished my homework, mom,” Nico said.

“Ooh, I’m your mother now? Does that mean you’re going to give me the same kind of hugs you give your mother?” Nozomi stepped out from behind the door and spread her arms wide as Nico blushed.

“S-Shut up!” she said.

“Don’t be shy, Niccochi! I know how much you love your mother. Come into my embrace, my darling daughter!”

“Knock it off, or I’m not making you dinner.”

Nozomi pouted. “You’re so cruel to your poor mother,” she whined, walking back off towards her own room again.

“I’m not talking about you playing games,” Maki said, ignoring that whole stupid exchange. “I mean the characters you play.”

“What, because I make them look like me? Nico is the cutest, of course I’d use my own looks as a model.”

“If they’re supposed to be you, why do you keep making them ninjas?”

Nico shrugged. “Well, I’m not a wizard either,” she said. “It’s not like they have a beautiful and talented idol class.”

Maki rolled her eyes. “You could at least pick something that isn’t the complete opposite of you.”

“What? I can be stealthy!”

Maki looked at Nico in disbelief.

“Stealthy? You? You’re the loudest person I’ve ever met.”

“You’re friends with Rin and Honoka.”

“I know what I said.”

Nico narrowed her eyes.

“I’ll show you,” she muttered darkly, turning back to her game. “The great Nico is like a shadow when she wants to be.”

Maki rolled her eyes. “I’ll believe it when I see it.”

“You’re not getting dinner either,” Nico snapped.

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

Despite Nico’s threats, she did in fact make dinner for the four of them, although Maki could swear that she’d moved the salt as far away from Maki as possible before they all sat down.

When it was time for Maki to go home, though, Eli stopped her.

“You don’t want to take a train all the way across town at this hour,” she said. “We have a guest room for a reason, Maki. You don’t have classes tomorrow, right? You can stay over and then head home after breakfast.”

Honestly, it was the breakfast that really convinced Maki. As much as Nico was still as annoying as she’d been in highschool, she’d only gotten better at cooking. And since Maki was still trying to prove that she could be independent, if she went back to her own place all she’d be having for breakfast were badly done eggs and some half burnt toast. She could put off practicing her cooking for one day, right?

And so, instead of her own bed, she found herself snuggled into crisp fresh linens, buried under the blankets that Nozomi had insisted she use. Which was probably a good idea, since Nico insisted that they keep the thermostat way too low to save money.

Maki sighed and closed her eyes, trying to accustom herself to the noises of a new house. Of course, her own apartment had creaks and humming just like this one. But the noises weren’t quite the same. Maki curled up, listening to the floorboards squeaking slightly and tried to relax. Let the relative quiet fade slowly into silence as her mind blocked out all the noise, filtering out creaks and the soft thuds.

Just gently… slowly… slip into sle-

“BOO!”

Maki screamed, jumping back and throwing the covers off her as she clung to her pillow like it was a baseball bat, raising it threateningly as she stared wide-eyed at-

“Nico?!”

“Hahaha, who’s not stealthy now!” Nico crowed, smirking at Maki in her stupid pink pyjamas. “You didn’t hear me come in at all! I told you! I’m like a sha-”

Maki hit her with the pillow.

As hard as she could.

#love live #promptober 2022

[dizzydancingdreamer]

Persephone’s Symphony | Prologue | Hades

Hey lovelies— this will either be a long fic or a short series, depending on how it best plays out. I decided to upload a sneak peak— let me know what y’all think and do enjoy!!

Synopsis: In which he is the bad one— the dangerous one, the clunky one, the one who only knows how to break things— and she is the good one— the fragile one, the soft one, the one who knows how to put things back together— and he has to keep her alive long enough for anyone else— anyone who can do more than kill— to save her like she deserves to be saved— to save her from him. There are no pomegranates, no three headed dogs, and no requirement to stay— that is, if they don’t count an assassin on the loose out for her neck. In that case, three days in a safe house doesn’t feel like a long time— just long enough for Persephone and Hades to remember why opposites attract.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader (third person)

Warnings: Mentions of death, at times semi-graphic, eventual smut

Word count: 2.5k (and counting)

Next

Master List

“Barnes, you’re on protection detail.”

He must be dreaming— he must have fallen asleep with the tv on again. That’s been happening a lot lately; he’s trying to catch up on normal life. On all the shows and movies and music he’s missed throughout the years. He’s trying to catch up. Or maybe he’s just trying to drown out the silence. It doesn’t matter why, to be honest, all that matters is that he is asleep and what he is hearing and seeing are the workings of a bad dream. There was a marathon last night. Yeah, there was. Movies— a few of them. Something about bodyguards. He’s just dreaming about the movies.

Right?

Wrong.

“You’re to make sure she is secured at all times during the next three days— do not leave Miss Y/l/n’s side under any circumstances. Understood?”

Bucky blinks twice, his brows creasing as he stares down his commander, a stubby, burly man with beady eyes. It’s a trial run— he can’t say no. He wants to, he just can’t afford to. Not if he wants a job. Still, he sees no reason for this to be on him. He’s a soldier— a good one. A dangerous one. Watching over little girls isn’t in his job description. He’s a fighter— a monster.

“I need an affirmative, Barnes.”

He bites back a scowl. He’s not trying to get demoted, he knows he’s on thin ice. But, like, isn’t there anyone else? Hell— Wilson is right next to him! Surely he’s better. He’s charming, at least. A flirt. He would be perfect! Wilson would keep her safe. So would he— maybe. Definitely from the threat. From himself, though— well, three days is a long time to avoid sleeping. Even for him.

“Barnes!”

Damnit.

“Understood, sir.”

Wilson’s amused chuckles sound from beside him, his hand landing like a ton of bricks on Bucky’s shoulder. Bucky contemplates the repercussions of punching the smug bastard in the middle of a briefing. It can’t be more than a pay dock. He isn’t making that much anyway, it wouldn’t be a huge loss. It would be worth it to wipe that grin off his face. But, no, he can’t. He’ll have to do it later.

“Someone’s on babysitting duty.” Wilson snickers, pressing his fist to his mouth to hide his goading from the commander. “Remember Barnes; no candy after seven.”

“Shut up, Wilson.” He grunts back, just barely stopping his metal arm from flying out and smacking him— from squashing him like the bug he is.

“Think she has a bedtime?”

“Think you could shut up?”

Wilson flexes his fingers, holding them up slightly. Just enough as to not get caught ignoring the briefing but also enough to make sure Bucky notices. “Woah—” he says under his breath, that stupid smirk still heavy in his tone— “someone’s touchy today.”

“It’s a bad decision and you know it.” He says it simply— gruffly— it is the truth after all. He’s dangerous.

Wilson’s face softens, the glee filtering from his tone. “You’ll be fine, Buck.”

Bucky doesn’t answer, he just clenches his jaw. He doesn’t want to have another conversation about this. You’re a good person. You didn’t mean to do it. It’s not your fault. It might not be his fault but he still did it. He still feels it. That makes him bad— if not morally than at least physically. He’s a liability.

“Y/n Y/l/n—” Bucky focuses back on the commander; he may as well learn what he needs to do— “the twenty-five year old heir to the biggest communications technology manufacturing companies in the world. They do dealings with a range of chief institutions including our own White House—”

If Bucky’s teeth weren’t pressed together hard enough to make him wonder if they’re going to disintegrate, then his jaw would be on the floor right now. She’s the what? Did he just say twenty-five? He can’t even remember what he was doing at twenty-five— whatever he was doing it certainly wasn’t that. Granted, he probably doesn’t really want to remember what he was doing. Soldier things. Dangerous things. He shakes his head, huffing out a breath of air.

“Her immediate family have all turned up dead within the last six months—”

Bucky flinches— this time his jaw does drop.

“Holy shit.” Wilson mutters from next to him— Bucky can only nod. No more jokes about babysitting then.

Some pictures appear on the screen behind the commander, each one more gruesome than the last. It is nothing overtly sinister— nothing he hasn’t seen before— nothing worse than anything he’s seen before. Or worse than what he, himself, has done. He shivers, staring at the photos. Two men and a woman, each with a scarlet circle blown through their foreheads. What the fuck.

“Other executives have been found dead as well—” more pictures, more bullet holes— “She is the last one. We don’t know who or why— our mission is to find out, execute, and above all keep Miss Y/l/n alive—”

The pictures change, finally showing the woman who is to be in the soldier’s care, and his heart stops. Not for any normal reason, though— not because of how obscenely beautiful she is or because of the way her eyes pierce through the junky projector as though she were actually in the room with him. Not because of how soft she looks or how he can see the pink sheen of her lip gloss or the way those glossy lips are curved into an open mouth smile— like the picture had been taken mid laugh. No. His heart stops because of how god damn fragile she looks.

In the picture she seems to be at a University with some friends of hers. They’re backed against a brick facade, shoulder to shoulder like some sort of preppy mugshot. It’s probably supposed to be comical— Wilson lets out a hmph next to him, clearly seeing it as well— but Bucky can’t find it in himself to laugh. Not given the circumstances. Regardless though the picture gives him the information he needs to know; that she is a head shorter than the males in the picture. That seems normal— a head isn’t much in the scheme of things. The size difference is nothing.

Nothing unless, of course, you’re a giant super soldier whose genetically modified to be larger, stronger, and faster than the average man. Deadlier than the average man. He won’t be just a head taller than her— he’ll be at least two. Maybe more. And that’s just the height— he doesn’t even want to think about the rest. He is going to be stuck for three days, in what will most likely be a cramped safe house, with a girl who he could potentially break by bumping into her too hard. He can see it now: he takes the corner too fast and the next thing he knows she’s sprawled at his feet, her limbs bent at grotesque angles and her glossy lips flattened. All because he didn’t think to check.

This is going to be a long three days.

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

As it turns out, there are no safe houses— not legitimate ones at least. What there is, however, is the Wilson’s old family home in Delacroix, Louisiana— a semi falling apart, two-story build with robin's egg blue, fading paint. It is nestled deep into the bayou, hidden meticulously between towering trees. It is miles from any main roads and on the bank of a mostly dead river. Foot traffic is scarce and boats rarely pass on sunny days, let alone during the rainy season— the season it just so happens to be. Perfect.

Well, the location is perfect. The rest is a god damn shit show.

“You ready?” Sam doesn’t look at him— he knows better than that, opting instead to continue staring out at the bayou from behind the wheel.

Bucky, hunched over in the passenger seat, eyes also locked on the blue home, shrugs his shoulders. “Don’t really have a choice, do I?”

Sam sighs and Bucky tries not to tense at the sound. Please, not another lecture— not right now. He tries to ignore the man, gaze pouring over what he assumes is supposed to be a charming porch. Under a dim but sturdy awning there waits a white swing with a long bench seat and some floral pillows. Across from it are two rocking chairs swaying softly in the Louisiana breeze. One has a matching blanket draped over the back. It is supposed to look cozy— he knows it’s supposed to and he is sure to everyone but him that it is cozy. To him, though, it looks like everything he doesn’t have. Like warmth and sunny days and peace. Things he wants and things that make his skin crawl because of how foreign they are to him.

“You’re not going to hurt her.” Sam taps his hand on the wheel, sounding out a pattern that plays more like bullets ricocheting through the cab of the truck than whatever melody it actually is.

Bucky grinds his teeth together. Now he’s looking at the window beside the porch. Is it a kitchen? A mudroom? A den? He isn’t sure, there’s a white curtain pulled across the frame, blocking his vision from whatever waits for him on the inside. Blocking his vision from her. For a moment he thinks he sees the curtain move— a shadow of a hand passing along the edge. He turns away— he doesn’t want to scare her if she’s trying to size him up before they meet. It’s the least he can do. God only knows how terrified she already is.

His stare lands on Sam— an invitation for the soldier to finally look away from the bayou. “But I could, right? That’s what matters here— I could hurt her.”

“No, Buck, you couldn’t— you wouldn’t. You aren’t evil or whatever it is you think you are.” Sam raises a brow and Bucky scowls— it always feels like he’s in his head.

Of course he would never tell Sam Wilson that— like a dog left to fend for himself, he would rather fight.

“Don’t pretend like you have any idea what I think.” He can’t find it in himself to feel guilty for snapping— isn’t that what wild animals do?

Ever the patient animal rescuer, Sam rolls his eyes at the bite. “You’re a good man, Barnes.”

Bucky stares back for a minute, not sure how to even broach an answer, before breaking, snapping his gaze back to the inviting home— his kennel for the next three days. He clenches his jaw, trying not to slam his head against the dashboard for being an idiot. Even Bucky understands that it’s bad when he breaks the stare first— he’s been told before that he has a staring problem. He just doesn’t want to look Wilson in his eyes and explain to him exactly why he’s wrong. Maybe it’s just easier to let him think what he wants.

“Whatever.”

Maybe he wants just one person to truly believe that he isn’t the bad guy— even if he doesn’t believe it himself.

“I thought old people were supposed to be mature.”

Bucky flashes him a forced grin, one that tastes like the three hours of sleep he got last night and the five hours of self-loathing, shoving open his door and following it with his foot. “That’s me— the mature one.”

Sam barks out a laugh; either Bucky’s grimace— grin— worked or Sam is choosing to ignore it. “You’re old, not mature— there’s a difference, pal.”

“Hmph.” Bucky jumps out of the truck, yanking the duffle bag over his shoulder as his boots sink into the spongy grass.

His skin dampens immediately, a combination of the marshy climate and the grey clouds hanging above his head. A few droplets fall against his face and he slings a hand over his brows, turning towards his fate for the next three days. Without the barrier of the truck between him and the house, he almost feels like a normal man again. The weak, destructible kind. Theoretically, if the house were to fall on top of him right now he would survive. He would be pinned under the rubble, yes, but alive. It just doesn’t feel like it— it feels like he would be crushed. It makes the hair on the back of his neck stand on end— his hackles rising as he tries not to bare his teeth— or fangs— at this new kind of threat. If only people could see him now; The White Wolf afraid of a charming, bayou home.

What a joke.

He shakes his head, pushing the passenger door shut with a sharp clang. Of course he isn’t afraid of a house— then he really would be an idiot. No, he is afraid of something else entirely— something much more sinister. Bucky is afraid of suburbia; of normalcy. What, with a metal arm and a brain hardwired to kill— it only makes sense he would also be programmed to steer clear of anything half-way decent. Especially pretty, fragile girls with glossy lips. Fuck. He squeezes his eyes closed, his vibranium fingers clenching around the strap of his bag. What is he even doing here?

A familiar, mechanical buzz fills the air and he cracks an eye back open in time to see Wilson leaning his head out of the passenger window. “Look, man— it’s three days. The fridge is full, the wifi is on, and it’ll rain so much she’ll probably nap the entire time. Pretend you’re at home doing whatever it is you would normally do. You’ll be fine.”

Bucky nods, sticking to his guns and letting the soldier believe what he wants. He tells himself again that it is because it is easier that way. “I gotta go, Wilson.”

With that he pushes his way to the door. His feet sink further into the grass with every step, curling around his ankles as though trying to warn him against entering the house— or trying to save the poor girl inside. He can’t decide. Warning or trap. Both. A warning for her— the princess; the little girl in the forest— and a trap for him— the rabid wolf. He steps onto the porch, his boots echoing off the concrete. To him it’s booming. He doesn’t want to think about what it must sound like to her, especially with everything the commander said she’s been through. A giant coming to kill her is his guess. Movement to the left catches his eye, the curtains shifting again, and his neck flushes.

“Hey Buck?”

He sighs— again— and turns over his shoulder for what he hopes is the last time— he just wants to get this over with. “What, Wilson?”

He knows before the man speaks that the cheshire grin on his face can mean nothing good— still he waits for the answer.

“Remember to tiptoe.”

#Bucky Barnes #bucky #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky x y/n #bucky fic #mcu #mcu fic #bucky barnes imagine #bucky imagine #mcu imagine #marvel cinematic universe #Persephone's Symphony

[fruitcoops]

Strawberry Blond

Coops fluff Coops fluff Coops fluff!! I highly recommend listening to Strawberry Blond by Mitski, which was the direct inspiration for this fic! This wasn’t based on an ask, but it’s been in the back of my mind for a little while now. Hope you enjoy!

Coops credit goes to @lumosinlove!

“This might be your best idea yet,” Remus mused as they laid next to each other, staring up at the fluffy clouds crossing a robin’s-egg sky. In his periphery, Sirius watched him pick small bits of grass with his free hand. The other of course, was warm in his own.

“Okay, Blondie.”

“Shut up,” Remus laughed, nudging him with his shoulder. “I’m not blond yet.”

“After all this sunshine?” Sirius turned on his side and fluffed the front of his curls over his eyes, making him scrunch his nose up like a cute little bunny. “You are, sweetheart.”

Remus Lupin existed in all shades of tawny gold—tinged with pink on his cheeks and the backs of his arms, deeper across the expanse of his back and chest, and woven with bronze for his soft hair. Sometimes, Sirius woke up in time to watch the sunlight make him glow, and he would count every new color he found.

But after the near-constant summer sunlight due to their broken air conditioning and inability to find a fan that didn’t spontaneously combust, Remus was almost strawberry blond, and it was driving Sirius out of his mind. Remus let his head fall to the side and smiled when they made eye contact, squeezing Sirius’ hand. “Want some water?”

“Don’t get up, I’m comfy.” Sirius stuck his lip out in a pout and Remus snorted, kissing the tip of his nose.

“I’ll be right back, I promise.”

The light breeze rippled through the whole field, save for the pressed-down grass where Remus had laid mere moments before. Their shoes were…somewhere. Sirius hoped they had left them near the picnic basket, but his mind was too muzzy with bliss to make an effort to remember.

Remus’ bare ankles were pale against the rolled-up cuffs of his jeans and Sirius took a second to admire his ass when he bent to get their waterbottles—as Remus’ fiancé, it was his court-appointed right to appreciate the familiar curve. That law was definitely written down in some dusty old book.

“Do we actually need buildings?” Sirius asked as Remus settled back down next to him.

To his credit, Remus didn’t miss a beat. “What?”

“In the grand scheme of things, do we need skyscrapers? They’re kind of useless, and they block all this.” He gestured widely with his free arm and took a sip.

“Huh. I’ve never thought about it that way.” Remus cocked his head to the side and looked out over the beach below, his gaze distant as he watched the point where grass turned into sand and pebbles. “I don’t think so. Concrete is ugly, anyway.”

“Maybe people would be happier if they all had low houses and big backyards.”

“Fuck hockey. Become an architect.” Remus looked over at him with a small smile. “You’d be good at that, actually.”

“Oh?”

“I mean, you’re terrible with paint colors, but shapes—"

“You are so mean to me!” Sirius laughed, bumping him until they both fell over and laid cheek-to-cheek in opposite directions. “Unfortunately, I love it.”

“Yeah, you do. And I love you.” Remus turned his head to kiss Sirius’ cheekbone. This time next year, they would be married—they had an entire life of these moments ahead of them.

“This is everything I need,” he said quietly, watching a cloud shaped like a duck fade into wisps. “Right here. This is it.”

“Pots isn’t here.”

“Hmm.”

“Hattie’s tormenting Reg, who also isn’t here.”

“I have everything I need because no matter where I go, you’re there.”

Remus went still with a soft exhale. “What?”

Sirius shrugged. “We’re apart sometimes, yeah, but you’re always there somewhere. Either I’m wearing your shirt, or your hat, or you left yet another hickey—” Remus laughed at that, and he smiled. “—or I’m thinking about you. That’s what I mean.”

Remus sighed heavily. “Dammit.”

“What?”

“I really have to kiss you, but I’m so comfortable.”

“You don’t have to—”

“Oh, yes I do.” Remus pushed himself onto his elbows, then turned around and threw a thigh over Sirius’ hips, bracketing his face with his forearms. “You’re so beautiful in the sun. What was I saying again?”

Sirius draped his arms over Remus’ shoulders and grinned. “Kiss me stupid, Loops.”

And he did. Not quite lazy—Remus, for all his languid stretching, was never lazy—but steady. Easy. Drawing Sirius close with each press of his lips and stroking the curls just above his ears to smooth them back until Sirius could hardly think straight. Remus had kissed him like that a number of times since they started dating: in the car, in his old apartment, on the kitchen counter while dinner threatened to burn but neither of them could be bothered to check it.

Sirius deepened the kiss as a particular memory rose to the front of his mind. Remus was sitting in the passenger seat of the car with one hand out the window and the other buried in Hattie’s soft fur. She had been smaller the day they drove her home, but still big enough that she oozed over the sides of his legs.

I love her already, Remus had said as he made gentle waves with his palm, riding the wind current of the open road. She’s ours.

Sirius’ chest ached in the best way and he leaned upward a bit, angling his chin to pull Remus’ lower lip between his teeth lightly. I love you. I love you, I love you, I love you. And this is our forever.

Remus pulled back, his eyes still closed as he smiled and took a slow breath. The afternoon sun lit his hair in a halo and Sirius was struck speechless by the sight; he was barely able to fold his hands over Remus’ and press their foreheads together without melting into a puddle. “That’s better.”

“Uh-huh.”

A bumblebee buzzed past them and they both jumped a bit at the sudden noise before bursting out laughing. Remus bit his lip and beamed down at Sirius, placing one more kiss to his forehead before climbing off and grabbing his hands. “Come on!”

“Where are we going?” Sirius asked as they took off running toward the beach, barefoot and sun-warmed and deliriously happy. Remus glanced over his shoulder with a smile; his eyes widened slightly when their feet hit cold, wet sand, but he didn’t slow down until they were ankle-deep in freezing salt water.

Sirius immediately reached into the surf and flung a handful of water at Remus, pulling him close enough to get a direct hit to the chest. “Hey!” Remus yelped, dropping his hand like it burned and flinging his own counterattack at Sirius.

The spray hit him dead in the face and he stumbled backward, nearly falling on his ass in the water as he windmilled for balance. Remus laughed until he was gasping, hands on his knees and making the fatal mistake of taking his eyes off Sirius for a second too long.

The first bit of seaweed stuck to his arm with a satisfying slap; the second missed by a mile as Remus sprinted away, leaving uneven footprints in the sand while Sirius chased him down and tried not to lose any toes to stray barnacles. “Get back here!” he shouted around his smile, feeling the skin of his hands stiffening with salt.

“You’ll have to catch me first!” Remus called, running backward for a few steps until Sirius threw another clump of seaweed that just barely missed his shirt.

They ran and ran and ran until their picnic was out of sight, but Sirius didn’t care. A million moments, he thought. We can have a million moments of this.

#sirius black #remus lupin #sweater weather #hattie #lumosinlove #picnic #strawberry blond #fanfic #my fic

[katzkinder]

London Bridge Is Falling Down

Envy Pair version of my Counting Sheep series! Himiko is my headcanon for the name of Mikuni's mother. Since Mikuni's name contains the character for "kingdom," I thought this name belonging to an ancient queen suited his mother well.

Mikuni is annoying.

That’s something Jeje has always known, ever since Mikuni was a child, ever since the first time he saw him, bounding around his mother’s skirts and throwing himself into Lily’s arms to be held and cuddled and fawned over while Jeje had slunk back to the cellars. Himiko had been so bright, back then, the rot of Envy not yet showing in a visible way, that tiny baby that would grow into his brother’s Eve gurgling happily in her arms.

Jeje was the one who had found him. Himiko had wept when she saw him, all the anger and hate leaving her at once, vanishing as if it never existed when she laid her eyes on the fragile little bundle, swaddled in soft fabrics with little gloves on his impossibly tiny hands. She had sobbed all the harder when she took the crying child from him, her hands shaking while she cradled him close, useless apologies spilling from her pretty lips. The body of the babe’s mother had rapidly been growing cold on the carpet, and little Misono… Would remember none of it.

(Jeje remembered all of it, though. He doesn’t think a single moment will ever fade from his mind, no matter how many eons pass)

As Mikuni had grown, with Jeje watching over him as a silent, imposing, guardian angel, always behind the boy’s mother while she had read bedtime stories to him, always so aware of those bright, bright, too bright eyes, Jeje had also become aware of a number of other things, and those things remained true into adulthood. Mikuni has all of his mother’s gorgeous looks (and some from his father, but admitting as such is just asking to be choked), her stubborn brightness, her sharp tongue and wit, but more than any of that...

Mikuni is annoying.

...Because he never listens to what’s good for him. Just like his mother before him, he had taken Jeje despite his warnings, and some bitter, sick part of Jeje had wanted him to. The same part of him that had given in to Himiko herself.

But, well, he’d always known Mikuni never listened, too.

He wonders if Lily knows, though he doubts that he’s aware, of those golden afternoons when Mikuni would sneak down to his hiding place and find him lurking near the boilers, the excited, terrified whispers of Lily’s children, his human children, chasing after the young heir as he confidently hopped down, step by step, into the “monster’s” lair.

They had talked. About nothing. About everything. Well, actually, Mikuni had talked, seemingly not caring that Jeje never said much back, incredible and beautiful and… Well, there was a reason everyone called Mikuni brilliant.

Jeje knew better, though.

***

The most annoying thing about Mikuni, in his opinion, is not how loud he is. It’s not his contrariness, or his capriciousness, or his constant, gnawing curiosity causing him to make mischief.

The most annoying thing about Mikuni was how badly he wanted people to think he was naturally good at everything.

See, Mikuni was smart. Jeje would give him that. But he was also very stupid. It wasn’t as if he lacked common sense, though sometimes Jeje wondered, but it was like Mikuni wanted people to resent him.

More than anyone Jeje had ever met, his Eve was a hard worker. Someone who hated owing others a single damn thing. It was that useless pride and sense of responsibility for things that couldn’t possibly be Mikuni’s fault, things Jeje suspected, no matter how much he denied it, Mikuni had learned, had internalized, from his father and from Lily, that was why Jeje refused to call Mikuni brilliant like everyone else.

...But he did shine. Like a candle in a darkened room. Like a beacon. Warm, and inviting, someone to warm himself beside, even knowing that that flame would burn him up, just like a moth.

The question was... Who would that flame melt into nothing first?

Jeje would be damned twice over if he let it be his Eve.

Turning away from way he had been watching the other man work late hours, hunched over Nod’s ledgers and planners and Mikuni’s own personal notebooks, where his pen scratched across the surfaces of each calculating profits, expenses, bills, new products and designs and promotions and planning trips, Jeje silently makes his way to their kitchen.

Burning the midnight oil just means you won’t have any left when you truly need it.

A snort, reaching for their cabinets. Of course, that’s what Mikuni had him for.

***

He’s gotten very good at brewing tea. Jeje isn’t much of a chef at all, but living with Mikuni for so long, it was practically guaranteed he’d learn to at least make a semi-decent cup, and thank god he had. He would have truly killed Mikuni by now if he hadn’t, he swears, the man is just as persnickety about his tea as Lily is with his coffee.

...He’s also gained a new appreciation for the stuff, but maybe that comes with the territory of spending hours upon hours listening to Mikuni’s one sided argument about the best ways to drink it. It’s hard not to be impressed with all the little details that goes into brewing what’s considered a perfect cup (by Mikuni’s standards, anyway), and even harder still to not feel a fondness for something that draws such genuine passion out of his once charge, now equal.

...It’s such an odd thought. He knows what people think. That Mikuni has always had a stranglehold on him. That Mikuni has always been in charge. That Mikuni has always been someone… Grown up.

Again. Jeje knows better.

He sets the temperature on their electric kettle, one purchased on one of their many visits to the British Isles, sits at their kitchen table, and waits. Thinks.

Mikuni has been grown up for a long time now. And he will continue to grow, and people will continue to think, no matter Jeje’s efforts, that he is a no good, conniving schemer who would sacrifice them all on a wish and a prayer and something like a maybe.

And, well, perhaps they aren’t wrong. Perhaps Jeje is a fool. But if he’s a fool, he’s a court jester, and as court jester he will make absolutely certain this time that the king does not make his mistakes without someone there to make fun of him for it, even if only behind closed doors, even if only between the two of them.

To everyone else, he is a dictator’s executioner, and that’s fine with him. Everyone else doesn’t matter.

His eyes drift to Mikuni’s favorite cup, one made of glass and painted with delicate, swooping strokes of gold, with lilies and a taupe lacquer surrounding all but a window through which one could admire the lovely colors of their favored drink. He takes it into his hands, so much larger than this tiny cup, and finds himself smiling as he turns the joint birthday gift from the Lust pair over and around, admires those intricate, fancy details that speak of quality and knowing down to the letter exactly what Mikuni’s tastes are.

Well.

Almost everyone.

***

The teapot has been warmed, the kettle filled with mineral water and piping hot, and by the time Jeje finishes steeping the loose leaf tea, their little kitchen clock, kitschy and cute and shaped like a cartoon chicken hatching from an egg, reads 2:17 in the morning.

Jeje picks up the cup, the container of melatonin supplements Mikuni has taken since he was twenty at his Servamp’s behest, and carefully carries both back to where he knows the other man will still be completely absorbed in his work.

True to form, Mikuni is still at it. The predictability of his late night, sleepless habits, of his need to do something with his time, makes Jeje’s frown deepen, ever so slightly.

He wishes Mikuni would just rest. Close his eyes, not do anything, just lie there and let Jeje guard him, just be still, be quiet, like did when he was a child.

… He knows better than to think a mind as stubborn and that moves as fast as his Eve’s could ever achieve that, but he can dream. He can also just sicc the Lust pair on him.

That’ll put him to bed real fast.

“What’re you grinning about over there?”

He startles, not having expected Mikuni to acknowledge his presence, and nearly sloshes hot chamomile with lavender onto the pretty little matching saucer that accompanied the cup. It’s a miracle it didn’t fall over completely. Jeje lets out a breath, so quiet it’s inaudible, and curses himself for forgetting that Mikuni can see him right now.

Then again, even if he was wearing his mask, Mikuni would have seen right through him.

He always does.

His Eve is watching him still, waiting for him to move, and then his eyes flick down to what Jeje has in his hands. His lips twist.

Jeje ignores it and continues to make his way over to where Mikuni had been peacefully working. They don’t speak a word to one another, and no sooner than Jeje sets his cargo down, he’s going back the way he came, knowing it’s useless to try and ply Mikuni with words or favors.

The man is annoying in his stubbornness, too.

He hears a sniff behind him, the scratch of pen on paper once more, but it isn’t long before that little noise stops again. A sigh. Jeje chances peering around the doorframe, smiling, just a tad, as a clearly frustrated Mikuni slaps his pen down onto the counter and picks up his cup, no doubt tempted by the smell of his favorite night time blend.

A swallow. Two.

Mikuni unscrews the lid on the melatonin gummies. Pops a couple into his mouth. Chews, and swallows. The tension leaves his shoulders. He allows himself to savor the warmth in his hands.

Jeje leaves him be and heads upstairs to their room, knowing Mikuni now won’t be far behind.

“Jeje,” Mikuni calls after him, voice soft in that way it sometimes, ever so rarely gets, so quiet Jeje almost misses it. “... You still really suck at this.”

Mikuni is annoying.

#kat's katerwauling #servamp #jekuni #servamp jeje #mikuni alicein #pawprints #it's done! #it's late but it's done!

[revengeisourlullaby]

Lucky You

Warnings: Pro hero Au, 18+, smut, unprotected sex, switch Izuku, slight mommy kink (like once or twice), dom themes, body worship, cunnilingus, blowjobs, edging, fluffy ending bc i’m feeling soft :3

a/n: hope this is not too ooc for him! i’ve always pictured deku to be somewhat of a closeted dom so i hope i did that theory justice. i also am really enjoying writing fics so maybe i’ll start taking requests if my writing is smth of interest! :)

Pro Hero Izuku x Female! Reader

Word count: 3.4k

Izuku had been on call for the past week so when he finally had the day off you guys took full advantage of it. The nights you spent with a cold spot in your shared bed started to take a toll on you. With your work schedule and tattered sleep cycle, it seemed like you hadn’t seen Izuku for weeks. You always saw the remnants of him. Water droplets around the sink, the residual heat of the coffee pot in the kitchen, but it seemed like you always missed him. It was maddening. 

Today though you two decided to remedy the situation at hand. After spending the early portion of the day lounging around your home, you guys went out to dinner. Reveling in the time you were sharing with one another as well as the meal placed in front of you two, you felt like things were finally falling back into place. Once you two returned back to your home, you both kicked your shoes off at the door. 

You walked into your shared bedroom to switch into some more comfortable clothes. The idea of sitting in jeans after stuffing yourself was ungodly. As you were stepping out of your jeans, Izuku had stepped into the bedroom staring at you from the doorway. You gave a small smile to him looking over your shoulder and continued to undress. Izuku returned your smile and stepped further into the room. 

Sitting on the bed he followed suit and changed into comfy house wear. Walking up to the dresser, you decided to tease him a little bit. Grabbing one of his t-shirts you threw it on and turned around to look at him. You knew when you wore his clothes Izuku lost his grip on reality. 

It sent him into the most euphoric orbit knowing that you enjoyed having him around you like that. He stood up to come to the dresser to grab his grey sweatpants. Looking up from the floor he saw you and his eyes widened a bit. Blinking a little excessively, a smile finally adorned his lips.

“Nice shirt right?” shooting him a cheeky grin, you wrapped your hands around his neck and he placed his hands on the curve of your hips. 

“Very nice shirt. I actually think it's new.” he punctuated his statement with a small kiss on your lips, grinning widely as he pulled away. Wanting to soak up as much time with him as possible you decided to drag him out into the main room with you.

“C’mon let's watch a movie or something. We can cuddle up together.” 

You heard him chuckle behind you and you plopped down on the couch, patting the spot next to you a little too eagerly. Fumbling with the remotes in an attempt to change the tv settings quickly you heard him speak up.

“So, what are we gonna watch?”

“Umm I’m not too sure, I didn’t make it that far yet.” letting out a light chuckle you finally got the settings in order. You settled back into the couch right next to Izuku and posed a question

“How bout a horror movie?”

Izuku slowly turned his head toward you, 

“Y/N, you and I both know the only reason you’re suggesting that is so you can nestle into me.”

You lifted your head up to look at him and quickly he sputtered out 

“Not that I have a problem with that I’m just saying” he looked down toward his lap almost embarrassed with himself. You brought your hand to his cheek and turned his face to you

“Not you getting this embarrassed already and I haven't even put the movie on. I didn’t even get to see you scared yet.” 

“Y/N…”

“I’m just teasing you know that, let's put on Insidious.” 

“Babe, please anything but that one.” You had to laugh. You knew how he hated that movie but you couldn’t help but get a kick out of his squirms whenever it was on.

“C’mon I know it’s your favorite...” smirking you looked up at him through your lashes. “...And we can switch it up a little, you can cuddle into me this time.” You wrapped one of your arms around his back and the other laying across his stomach.

“Alright, put it on.” he huffed out with a small chuckle following it. You giggled in excitement and started streaming the movie. This was one of your favorite films but for the life of you, your brain could not focus on it. The beat of Izuku’s heart, the scent of his cologne that lingered on his skin, the small jolt his body would send whenever he got a little scared by the film. You couldn’t help it, all your focus was on him. Now have completely forgotten about the movie, you felt that it was necessary to start teasing Izuku. 

It started with small touches. The hand that was resting on his stomach you snaked under his shirt and rubbed across his toned abs. You felt him flex in surprise but he eventually relaxed and let out the breath that he didn’t realize he was holding in. You smirked to yourself and decided to become a little more bold in your movements. 

Moving your hand further south, you began playing with the hem of his sweatpants. His breath hitched and he looked down at you,

“Y-Y/N- what are you doing?”

“I’m watching the movie, Izzy”

“I-I, okay”

Izuku was desperately trying to relax because heat was beginning to rush to his groin. His breathing picked up and you realized that this would be the perfect moment to tease him even more. Snaking your hand underneath his sweats, you trailed your hand across his length only to rest it on his bare thigh. You heard his mouth part open to say something, but you palmed him through his briefs and stopped him in his tracks. A breathy moan escaped past his lips and you smirked. 

“Y/N, I- uh”

You continued palming him through his briefs and felt it was time to finish off the teasing. Pulling your hand out of his pants you looked up at him and his eyes were glossed over in sheer want. A glint of disappointment coming through his pupils. You brought yourself up from his side and straddled his lap. Cupping his face in your hands you got agonizingly close to his lips. The two of you suspended in time waiting on one another to make the first move. Brushing the tip of your nose against him and parting your lips you grind your hips into his.

“Baby, please stop with the teasing” Izuku moaned out against you. 

You smiled to yourself, enjoying the fact that he had given into you. Capturing his lips, you kissed him like it was going to be your last. His skin against yours made your blood boil in the best way possible. Your body was on fire and your kisses were becoming full of need. 

You grabbed at the hair on the nape of Izuku’s neck and grinded into him even more so. The feeling of his hardness turning your pussy into a wanton mess. Izuku brought his hips up to meet yours, his desperation for you now becoming physical. Izuku pulled away from you and looked you in your eyes. One of his hands wrapping around the back of your neck, forcing you to look at him.

“Y/N, baby, I can’t take it anymore, I need you.” His eyes were that of a doe, pleading with you to give him some relief. He rutted himself up into you to emphasize his point. You knew you had full control at this point and you were gonna take full advantage of it before his neediness left his system. Lifting yourself up, you pulled your underwear to the side and rubbed yourself into his thigh. Hearing him moan slightly, you pulled yourself from him, standing up. A small string of your slick snapping off once you left Izuku’s thigh. Leaving him stranded on the couch, you turned and faced him over your shoulder

“If you need me so bad, you’re gonna have to follow me”

You walked out of the main room and into your shared bedroom. You sat on the edge of the bed waiting for Izuku to come in, and when he did the sexual tension in the room was thick. He almost stalked over to you, seeming as if his previous neediness faded that quickly. But you refused to have your control lost this early in the moment. When he came up to you, you grabbed him by his shirt and pulled him towards the bed. With his back flat against the bed you straddled him once again. Kissing him to ensure your dominance you trailed your lips to his jawline, landing at his earlobe and you lightly nipped it. A soft moan erupted from his throat and it went straight to your core.

Kissing down his neck, you realized he still had his shirt on. 

“We’re gonna need to take this off to do it right.”

Removing him from his shirt, you took a moment to admire his body. His physique never failing to amaze you. His chiseled body making you drool from excitement.

“You’re staring, baby”

“How could I not. You’re so beautiful to look at Izuku.”

Watching him go red you continued your assault on his skin. Trailing down his body you felt his breath quicken when you reached the band of his sweats with your mouth. Lifting your head up you felt his eyes on you and made contact. Attempting to size him down with just your eyes.

“Lift your hips up for me honey.”

Once Izuku lifted up his hips, you brought your teeth to the waistband and pulled them down past his knees. Coming back up and doing the same with his briefs. 

“Y/N, please I can’t take the teasing much more. Just do something please.”

Bringing your head up to look at him one more time to just egg him on, you slowly slid your hand up his thigh and resting it to wrap around his hard cock. 

“Now, while your begging was expected, you’re forgetting one important thing to do baby”

Giving his cock lazy strokes you gathered spit in your mouth and lolled your tongue out so it spilled over his length. His breath hitched and a small whimper slipped past his lips. 

“M-mommy. Please. Please suck all the stupid cum out of my cock. I need you so bad mommy.”

Pools of lust darkened your pupils and a smirk adorned your face, happy with Izuku’s last ditch efforts.

“Atta boy.” 

Lowering your head down you circled your tongue around the tip of his cock. Paying extra attention to the underside of the head, knowing how sensitive Izuku was there. Licking a stripe up from the bottom of his shaft you began bobbing your head up and down. Bringing both of your hands into play. You brought one to help you finish off the rest of Izuku’s length and the other moved to play with his balls. Once your hand began fondling his balls Izuku’s labored breaths turned into echoing whimpers.

“Fuck, mommy, Please keep doing that. God you feel so good.”

Humming in response you felt a wave of pride surge through you. You picked up your pace and sucked just a little bit harder around his considerable length. 

“Fuck, baby ~ah! Keep going like that, I’m gonna cum so hard”

Deciding to egg him on because you love how desperate his moans sound, you slowly pulled yourself off of his throbbing cock and looked up at him. His cries were like symphonies to your ears. Izuku brought himself up onto his elbows so he could get a better look at you. 

“I’m sorry Izzy, what was that?”

“Y/N, if you don’t put your mouth back on me-”

“Is that really the way you should be talking to your mo-!”

Izuku sat up fully and grabbed your face within his hand, squishing your cheeks together.

“Darling, I’m always more than patient with you, but I said not to tease me anymore. And what did you do?”

“Tease you…”

The vitriolic glare that fell down from his eyes told you that you had royally fucked up. Sending you immediately into a submissive space you were ready to do whatever he asked of you. Sinking further into your heels you stared up at Izuku with your hands placed upon your plush thighs.

“I’m sorry Izuku, I’ll make it up to you, let me make you feel good...please.”

Izuku stared down at you before saying anything, making you feel miniscule under his gaze. 

“Get up on the bed. I think I’m gonna make you feel good now.”

Izuku’s smirk that lined his face let you know that this wasn’t going to be an easy make you feel good situation. You were gonna have to work for it and you were going to pay for your teasing bit from before. Sliding himself up in between your legs, he wrapped his arms around your hips, locking you into place. Nuzzling his nose against your clothed clit you shivered and you pressed yourself into him. Hearing him chuckle he looked up at you from your hips.

“Little bit eager are we?”

Squirming underneath his gaze you fully realized how much you wanted him, but before you could get to begging he beat you to it. On a mission to make your face heat up for him.

“Look at this body of yours baby. You’re so beautiful.” 

Dragging his hands up to your chest, he dragged his hand down the valley of your breasts. 

“These perfect little tits of yours.”

He emphasized his point by rolling your hard buds between his fingers. 

“This perfectly cute tummy of yours, and fuck these thighs of yours. You’re so sexy baby.”

Bringing his hand down to your thighs again, he squeezed them causing an airy moan to escape from your throat. 

“Izuku, please, do something. I-I can’t take it.”

Hooking his fingers into the elastic of your underwear he stared back at you, green waves falling in front of his eyes. 

“And how do you think I felt, darling? But, I’m not like you, I’ll give you what you want and I’ll do it with such intensity you’ll forget how to be such a brat with me.”

Coming back up to your heat, he licked a messy stripe up your folds. Chuckling at the twitch your body made when in contact with his sloppy tongue. Swirling his tongue around your hole, he dragged his wet muscle up to your clit and began circling it. 

“Fuck, Izuku, baby don’t stop.”

Feeling your cunt start to flutter with a bit more vigor he removed one of his hands from your hips and brought it down to your soaking core. Inserting his middle finger into your hole, he rubbed against your g spot. The spongy feeling igniting something within him. He wanted to bring you so close to the edge and then rip you from it. The euphoric assault happening on your pussy elicited a scream to rip through your throat. 

“Fuck! Fuck Izuku I’m gonna cum if you keep doing that. Oh shit~”

Soon you felt his finger slide out of your hole and the disappearance of it made you whine. 

“Should’ve kept quiet babygirl. I knew you were close but c’mon I can’t let you off that easy. But, I’ve got something even better for you.

Izuku brought himself up from your hips and lowered his head down to kiss you. The taste of yourself fresh in your mouth. His tongue trailed itself along your plump bottom lip asking for further entrance into your wet cavern. Opening your mouth a little wider, your tongues danced for dominance. You felt his hips roll into yours and you reciprocated the action aching to get just one feeling of your boyfriend’s fat cock. 

“Can you feel it, grinding against you baby. You feel how much I want you. How much I want to be inside your cute little hole”

You grabbed his face in both of your hands and forced him to look down at you. A little bit of your dominance coming back for this small moment. 

“Yes, I feel it and I want you inside me so bad Izuku, I need it. I need you inside me. I want to feel every inch of you caressing my walls.”

Bringing his forehead down to rest against yours, he rubbed in your arousal just a little bit more. 

“Yeah, you sure that’s what you want baby?”

“Yes! Now please, fuck me Izuku, please!”

With that Izuku smiled, pleased with your performance of begging so earnestly for him. He lined his cock up with your weeping entrance, your hole twitching with just his head poking into it. 

“Izuku please- please just put it in I don’t think I can ho~ah! Fuck!”

Izuku had thrust the rest of his length into you. Sending you into a state of such bliss, your eyes rolled into the back of your head and a moan so loud came from your throat. Your hands clawed at the sheets below you in a poor attempt to ground yourself against Izuku’s pounding.

“Look at that cock disappearing inside you angel. Fuuckk, you take me so well.”

Izuku’s head dropped so that it nuzzled into the crook of your neck, his hot breath creating small droplets of moisture upon your neck. You felt his rhythm begin to speed up and in doing so he angled up just slightly, attacking your g spot. You couldn’t help but whimper against him. Bringing your hands up from the sheets you sent your nails into his back. Causing a growl to erupt on his end. 

“Fuck! God damn those nails baby. You must really like the way I’m fucking you, yeah? I can feel you squeezing down on me.” 

Wrapping your legs around his back you pulled him closer into you feeling your rapture on the horizon.

“Yes, fuck I love it so much. So much, I’m gonna-”

Remembering the denial Izuku brought earlier to you, you stopped yourself. Giving a quick moment to rearrange your words. 

“Please Izuku. Please let me cum. I need it. ‘N I want you to cum inside me baby, please fuck!” 

Izuku pistoned his hips, his cock hitting you in your most tender spots and sending you right over the edge. Your orgasm ripped through you causing your body to convulse in pure bliss. Unable to control your body a moan coursed through you, sending Izuku to his break. Your begging and incessant twitching throwing him over his climax. A graceless joint of euphoria overcoming you two as you felt his hot seed paint your walls his color. 

Pants filled the space in the air making up for lost words. The room smelled of sex and yet the only thing that filled your mind was the beautiful man above you. His green locks sticking to his face and the previous lust in his eyes being replaced with adoration for his lover beneath him. Pressing a gentle kiss to your lips he pulled away to look at you once more.

“God, I love you so much Y/N. Every time I stare into your eyes I swear I fall more in love with you each time.”

Pulling himself out of you he rolled onto his back letting a sigh fall past his lips. You rolled over onto your stomach crawling up to him. Resting your head on his chest you brought your hand up to his neck and fingered through his hair. Trailing your hand to his face, rubbing his cheek with your thumb. 

“I love you too Izuku. Sometimes more than what’s good for me. But I can’t help it. Something about you keeps me wanting more. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

Now having made Izuku red and at a loss for words, he settled for a kiss on your forehead and you two laid in each other's presence. Soaking in the ambiance of each other. 

#midoriya x reader #deku x reader #izuku midoriya x reader #deku smut #midoriya smut #pro hero au #my hero academia #my hero academia x reader #my hero academia smut

[teasandcardigans]

 i made a comment about choral pieces x redacted and i plan to make good on it. for reference before we get started, these are pieces that i have performed that have left a deep, lasting impression on me and i care for them lots

below the cut: LOTS of choir kid ramblings, some angsty hcs, some lovey dovey stuff, idk, general chaos

when memory fades - jayne southwick cool & eric nelson

this is originally a piece about alzheimer's and i remember sitting down with my clinician before this concert and listening to him talk about how meaningful this piece was- eventually, he had the whole room of performers in tears- not hard for choir kids, we’re very emotional. this song immediately makes me thing of the terrible idea that eventually the freelancer will forget about caelum. i can see the images playing in my head as i listen and write this, but imagine the freelancer struggling with the reality of their situation and being unable to stop it, gavin being the only one who can understand and help them through the pain of forgetting until they forget the pain exists at all. caelum, while devastated, never leaving the freelancer’s side after they forget, always being a presence they can feel but cannot see. angsty, huh?

good night, dear heart - dan forrest

for lack of a better explanation, this is freddy’s funeral song once the news reach his parents learn he’s “dead.” the piece was actually composed based on a poem written on a child’s grave in a cemetery, so there was a bit of inspiration for this concept from the original meaning in this composition. all i can see is a funeral procession in a dim church where freddy’s family grieves and meanwhile, sam and fred sit in an upper level of the church, watching, because fred wanted to see his family together one last time. bright couldn’t bring themselves to come.

now touch the air softly - susan labarr

haha finally, a happy one! fun fact: i have met this composer and worked under her husband- lovely people. speaking of lovely, this song belongs to them and vincent. i imagine this song encapsulating the moment when lovely first starts to feel doubts about vincent loving them “forever,” how they will grow old and he will not, how eventually he will leave, but vincent merely swipes all those fears away, telling lovely he will love them till “gravel is eaten for bread” and “roses are robin’s egg blue” and all the ridiculous things that will never happen, because he will love them forever. this song truly feels like that swelling, overwhelming feeling of pure, true love with another person and it’s so beautiful to me (ESPECIALLY 3:44, i get so many chills)

don’t be afraid - allyson reigh & jennifer mcmillan

darlin. darlin darlin darlin. for another reference, when my choir performed this piece, we extended them opening before the soloist and members of the ensemble called out things they were afraid of and it was so touching to me- but! i digress. our self-sacrificer’s anthem for so many things: turning away from quinn, opening up to sam, returning to the pack, preparing to face quinn again. in a perfect world, i can see this song as the moment where darlin connects with bright, who is so devastatingly just like them. young, stubborn, stupid and so alone. darlin, sam, fred, and bright, in my happy headcanons, are their own found family, just lonely people who find solace and peace in each other.

that lonesome road - simon carrington

speaking of our little slow burn couple, this is also them. i especially enjoy the line “if i had cooled my head and warmed my heart, i’d not be on this road tonight” for darlin and “carry on, never mind feeling sorry for yourself, it doesn’t save you from your troubled mind” for sam. something about this piece, the rawness of being completely acapella and truly, how vulnerable that leaves you as performers to mistakes resonates with the fragile trust between darlin and sam. the dependency that could shatter in seconds because our their mutual fear of betrayal, due to people like quinn and alexis. another fun fact, in my choir, i was the soloist :D

tumblr is cutting me off from adding more videos, so i’ll stop this one here. but let me know if you want more choir rambles from your favorite chaos blog

#teasandsonghcs☕ #redacted asmr #redacted tag #redacted #im a burnt out choir kid #can you tell? #redacted sam #redacted darlin #redacted freelancer #redacted gavin #redacted fred #redacted bright #redacted caelum #redacted vincent #redacted lovely

[tooruluv]

Kei Tsukishima x F!Reader ( part 6 )

❝ they were the sun and moon, destined to be together but only ever totally meeting once every hundred years or so. ❞

description: in a world where you only see color when you're in love, you've grown frustrated of the greyscale. but falling in love with someone you barely know was never something you planned. and, him not returning the feelings definitely wasn’t planned.

genre: soulmate au... except not quite. everyone is born colorblind. you can only see color once you fall in love (and it grows brighter until you see full color as the love grows). however, that doesn't ensure a lasting connection. it simply means that love exists in that moment, until it doesn't.

word count: 1,595

warnings/notes: i apologize for the delayed update! finals kicked my ass. but! here it is!! last part is the last part (which is crazy). hope you all enjoy~

prev | next (final)

“  why do I keep on coming back for more if all that you do is shut me out the door ” - bittersweet, greer

┏━━━━━⋇⋆⋆⋇❦⋇⋆⋆⋇━━━━━┓

The friendship blossomed between you and Kei Tsukishima. Cue the montage of getting him to laugh and study dates at his house. Cue the montage of corny music as the two of you subtly messed around instead of focusing on the fundraisers. Cue the montage of you growing closer with a bright filter.

You thought that if you managed to become his friend, his second in command, the colors would start to fade. Because by then, he was a friend. And friendships are marked with a stamp and wax seal. 

You didn’t know that friendships are the easiest to fall in love with. 

You woke up on the wrong side of the bed one morning. 

You were irritated beyond anything, a simmering anger that you tried to suppress as you got ready for the school day. The bright colors in your bathroom only seemed to piss you off even more. 

And, to make you even more angry at everyone and everything, Kei Tsukishima didn’t notice at all.

You were internally raging, and he didn’t say a word. Sure, you weren’t expressing your attitude to him. But as your second, he should know. Put a hand on your shoulder or flick your forehead and tell you to calm down. Anything but the silence you were receiving.

Even Yamaguchi got you an extra juice box, claiming that the “machine gave him two”. No it didn’t.

You glared at the stupid fucking board behind your homeroom teacher, letting your mind wander. Your life was so fucking annoying. 

First, you fall in love with some guy you barely knew. Then you voluntarily spend more time with him and his entire team. And, to top it off, the colors only grew as you grew your friendship with the blonde boy.

You could barely see the grey filter anymore.

When Tsukki just up and left after class instead of waiting, you felt your eye twitch.

“She’s not in a good mood today, you know.” Yamaguchi said, walking beside his best friend. “You should say something to her. She’ll be in a better mood if you do.”

“What would me talking to her do?”

Yamaguchi shrugged. “I don’t know. She’s in love with you, I’m sure whatever you do or say would make her feel better.”

During your blooming friendship with Tsukki, you found yourself at his house a lot.

You liked to quiz each other on random things, study for the next quiz, or do homework. You know. Things that nerds do.

You spent the entire weekend there, hanging out and getting to know the man you were in love with. 

You never spoke about the almost kiss.

“Do you want to play catch with me?” You offered. You were lying on his floor, feet up against his wall and body exhausted from sitting up all day.

“Play catch with you?” He turned around in his desk chair, facing your figure on the ground. “With what?”

“I always have my glove and a ball in my bag. All you need is a glove.” You perked up, twisting your head to see him. “And I know your brother has one.”

“Okay so next question. Why?”

“As a break.”

“I’m not going to play sports when I don’t have to. Why, when all we do is practice anyway?”

“It isn’t practice. It’s a break from our studies. It’s supposed to be fun.”

“Fun.”

“Yes, fun.” You pushed yourself up. “C’mon.”

“I’m not doing that.”

“C’mon.”

“No.”

“Tsukki, c’mon. Please!”

He ended up playing for hours.

You sat in the grass, throwing the softball up and watching it come back down. Usually, practice would calm you down and stop you from throwing a tantrum for very long.

All in all, it had been a shit day throughout.

You woke up in a mood. You could get over that. But then, your teacher called you out specifically for something you didn’t even do. You got a test back and had a lower grade than you should have received. Your lunch was ass. And, to top it off, your coach yelled at you in front of the entire team. 

You wanted to burn through the grass and sit in the center of the earth.

Not to mention that the one guy, the one person that you wanted to talk to, hadn’t spoken a word to you the entire day.

It was as though he was deliberately ignoring you. Going out of his way to avoid you, even.

You sighed as you stared at the sun.

You put on a fake smile for volleyball practice. Tsukishima noticed. How could he not notice when your eyes didn’t have their usual glow?

He tried to focus on the stupid volleyball club, do the drills and keep up with the team. 

But he kept glancing towards you.

You sighed as you cleaned up the last ball. Hinata and Kageyama were still going at it (Hinata’s frown quickly vanished after you rejected his ask of you to stay). You rolled your shoulders to crack your back. Being angry all day really does put some weight on your shoulders.

You started to leave the gym, carrying your softball bag and your backpack, when a body appeared next to yours. 

Tsukki.

“Come with me.” He said.

“Oh, so you are talking to me?” You bantered. 

“Yes.” He pushed up his glasses. “Come.”

And you did.

You followed him for a while, never asking why or where you were going. The amount of trust you had in this boy was insane.

You ended on a hill. It was out of the city, pretty distant into the suburbs, and you couldn’t hear the sound of cars or anything other than the occasional bird.

It was dark, but you could see clearly.

Tsukki sat down first, leaning onto his arms in the grass. You followed suit, silently sitting beside him.

“I come here when I’m in a shitty mood.” He said after a while. You shoved your bags aside. “It’s calming.”

“I’m sure it’s beautiful during the summer.” You said, gazing where the flowers are wilting. 

“It is.” 

“The flowers are yellow, by the way.” You told him. “Well, they’re dying so it’s more of a mustard or burnt yellow. But they’re yellow nonetheless.”

“Like my hair.”

You chuckled. “Yeah, like your hair.”

A pause. 

“Thank you.”

“For what?” He asked, turning his head towards you. 

“For taking me here. Even though you knew I was frustrated.”

“I knew you were kind of pissed since you walked into school.” Tsukki said. “I just didn’t want to somehow make it worse, so I kept my distance. Yamaguchi scolded me about it earlier. I figured this would get you to smile at least.”

He was closer to you now. Your thighs were touching.

“Well, thank you.” 

He was leaning in. The second time this has happened and you still couldn’t control the rapid heart beats in your chest. He was just going to wipe dirt from your shoulder, or maybe he was going to push your hair back. Maybe, if you were lucky, he was going to hug you.

Your eyes were open when he kissed you.

As his lips touched yours, you tasted mint. You only took a second of surprise to kiss him back, grasping at his neck to keep him close.

His glasses never got in the way.

Tsukki kept his hands to himself; but because of the height difference, it was a bit like he was leaning over you. The wilting flowers surrounded the both of you as you moved together.

You were the one to pull back, catching your breath. He did too, as if composing himself.

“Tsukki?” You bit your lips, still tasting him. 

“Hm?”

“Do you really not see color?”

There was a moment of deafening silence. You could hear buzzing in your ears. His eyes shifted between yours and you couldn’t define the emotion behind them.

“No.” He turned his head back to the hills. “I don’t.”

tag list: @vhskenma​​​​​​​ @elianetsantana​​​​​​​ @mini-eggs-reads​​​​​​​ @ysasian​​​​​ @hhwanggu​​​​​ @i-stole-your-juice-box​​​​​ @definitelynotbianca​​​​​ @denkithunder​​​​ @smuttyanimeslut​​​ @yourlocalbabybird​​​ @theydy-madamonsieur​ @expiredbananamilk​​ @sunandtsukki​ @babyoomi​

#anime #manga #tooruluv🍄post #haikyuu #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x you #haikyuu one shots #haikyuu imagine #haikyuu headcannons #kei tsukishima #kei tsukishima x reader #kei tsukishima x you #tsukishima #tsukishima x reader #tsukishima x you #tsukishima kei #tsukishima kei x reader #tsukishima kei x you #kei #haikyuu tsukki #tsukki #tsukki x reader #tsukki x you #haikyuu angst

[pixelwisp-archive]

Itadakimasu!! | Part 8: Stick to What You’re Good At (Written Chapter)

word count: 3.9k - I’m so sorry

Eggplant and Kabocha Miso Gratin?

No. That's a little too much.

Maybe a Cream stew?

No, that's too easy. 

"Just make a curry. It's chilly today. I'm sure he'll appreciate the warmth." Kuguri's voice broke through the silence in the small kitchen. You pulled your head up from the depths of the recipe box to look at him, your eyes gleaming at the idea.

"You're a genius, you know that?" A ghost of a smile fluttered onto his face and Kuguri exhaled a mix between a sigh and a laugh as he stopped at the threshold of the kitchen. You watched as his eyes travelled across the kitchen, landing on a seemingly inconspicuous vase placed in the corner, where a few stems of peach blossoms drank in the sun that beamed through the kitchen window. He stared a little too long, you noted, and a grin stretched across your face. 

“They’re from Kita.” The pink tint to the tips of Kuguri's ears didn't go unnoticed by you, and you couldn't suppress the giggle that bubbled up and slipped past your lips. He cleared his throat and tore his eyes away from the small vase, walking toward the fridge and pulling out a drink. Tearing open the cap, he took a large gulp and finally snuck a look over at you, your knowing smile making the blush creep up his neck at an alarming pace. 

"Stop looking at me like that."

"I'm not looking at you like anything," you teased as your eyes quickly left his figure and went back to the recipe box to rifle through them, this time in search for Baachan’s curry recipe. "There was a note, by the way."  Kuguri walked over to the folded card that stood in front of the simple arrangement. He delicately grabbed it and flipped the cardstock open, brows furrowing at the text. 

“‘Fascinating’. What do you suppose that means?” You shrugged, fingers dancing across the dozens of small, ivory cards with various family secret recipes from generations before etched in a delicate scrawl onto the face. 

“He finds you fascinating, I guess? aha,” a victorious gasp left you as you found the correct recipe, plucking it from it’s home inside the ornate wooden box. A satisfied smirk settled onto your lips as you made a mental note of the ingredients you had, the ones you didn’t, and how much time you had. 

“Or you, they could have been for you,” he said. You scoffed.

“I can’t think of a single conversation with Kita that hasn’t ended up about you. They’re not for me, dork.” Kuguri cleared his throat again, slightly more aggressively this time, and took another generous gulp of his aloe drink. 

“Changing the topic - Miya is coming over today.” You eyed Kuguri, suspicion evident on your face. 

“...Yes, he is.” 

“And you’re cooking for him.” That faint smile was back, this time accompanied with a, what, coy? no. Mischievous, expression. “Sound’s like a date.” 

He chuckled when you made an exaggerated gag, your finger pointed to the back of your throat. “Absolutely not. He’s just coming to fix the stove. He told me not to pay him so instead I’m feeding him,” you explained, fussing with the recipe box and placing it off to the side. “Can you believe he insinuated I was gonna give him food poisoning? The nerve.” 

Kuguri sat across from you and rested his chin onto his palm. “So that’s why you’re obsessing over what to make.” Another scoff left you as you crossed your arms over your chest. 

“I’m not obsessing.” 

“You’ve been hunched over your ‘super special, super secret’ family recipe box for the better part of-” He checks his watch. “-Two hours.”

Your cheeks flushed as you confirmed the time on your phone. Okay, so maybe you had been obsessing a little, but it was only because you wanted to make sure that whatever you make tonight is so good that it slaps the condescending grin off his face and he has no choice but to bow at your superiority. The thought alone made your lips curl into a devilish grin.

"I just wanna make sure that whatever I make tonight is so good he actually shuts up for once." That made Kuguri laugh, and Kuguri's laugh was always so pretty - it was light, a little breathy, and made your heart feel a thousand times bigger than it was. It directly contradicted your own loud, boisterous sound that resonated across any room. Your eyes crinkled and you giggled along with him as you finished the food list you scribbled on the back of a spam letter and grabbed your keys.

"I'm heading to the market, text me if you need anything, ok?" He nodded and you took that as your queue to leave, his echoes of 'drive safe' fading behind you as you descended the stairwell and out of the shop.

Osamu stood at your shop’s side entrance for what seemed like hours. It was like clockwork: every few seconds, he’d raise his fist to announce his arrival, pause right as his knuckles were millimeters away from making contact with the weathered door, stand there frozen for approximately fourteen and a half seconds, groan internally and let his fist fall limply at his side, only to repeat the action in about ten more seconds.

Was he supposed to knock? Walk in unannounced? You were expecting him any minute now, and he began to feel the beads of sweat on the back of his neck. Walking in without warning seemed rude, but it was going to be a bakery soon, so would it seem weirder for him to knock when its technically a public establishment? Maybe he should just go around the front instead so it would seem less rude to just walk in. No no, that’s stupid, just knock, you dumbass. Osamu raised his fist and brought it down to rap on the bright, Robin’s Egg blue wood when it suddenly opened, revealing you in all your frazzled glory. Unfortunately, his brain didn’t catch up with him and he continued to bring his arm forward, making contact with your forehead instead of the door. 

You yelped, more out of surprise than real pain, and reeled back, your hand finding its way onto the crown of your head. He also took a step back in shock, noting the way your mood instantly soured once you recognized him. An uncomfortable silence fell between you and he took the opportunity to take in your appearance; your hair had been thrown up haphazardly and your apron was an absolute battlefield of food stains. The sweatpants you had on had been rolled up, the left one being significantly higher than the right one. He cracked a smile at the flour that was smeared across your cheek and sprinkled in your hair.

Cute.

“What?” Osamu blinked. Did he say something?

“Is there something on my face?” Your hand moved from from your head to your cheek, the wrong cheek, and he had to bring his hand up to his mouth and clear his throat to cover the smile that wanted to make itself known. 

“No, no, you’re fine,” he lied. His eyes travelled to the trash bag you had been holding onto, noting the way your grasp had been strained by the weight of it. “I can take that for ya,” he said, and reached out to relieve the task from you. You were having none of it, however, and you pulled it out of his reach.

“I can do things for myself, thank you.” His brows shot up and he shot you an amused grin. 

“And yet ya can’t fix a stove.” You grumbled something about him being a smartass, and he laughed as he moved to the side, opening a path to the dumpster. He could see the effort you were making in trying to look like you weren’t struggling with the weight of the bag, but the slight tremor in your arm and unsteadiness to your legs gave you away. 

“Are ya sure you’re gonna be able to pick that up over the dumpster?” He couldn’t see your face, but he didn’t need to - he could feel the scowl radiating off you like a force field. As if to prove him wrong, you said nothing, and instead hauled the bag over the side of the dumpster with a small grunt, the clang of the bag hitting the bottom of the bin echoing through the small alleyway. You dusted your hands off, shooting a smug grin his way. 

“Told you I got it, now let me through - I’ll show you where the stove is.”

It wasn’t until he stepped into the bakery that he noticed just how good the food you were making smelled. His steps faltered behind you as he took a slow, steady inhale, reveling in the warmth the scent alone was giving him. He knew you were making curry, that kind of dish always had such a distinct essence to it, plus the fresh stains on your apron had been another dead giveaway. Osamu would be lying if he said he wasn’t excited to be able to try some, though the excitement came with a slight bitter aftertaste.

“Here she is, in all her glory.” You gestured toward the ornate stove sitting along the far wall, the gold trim against the iron making it a clear statement piece for the kitchen. Osamu let out an impressed whistle as he bent down and gingerly ran hands across the door to the oven. 

“I can see why ya wanna restore.” His eyes met yours and he swore your eyes sparkled when you stared at the antique.

“Isn’t she beautiful?” He hummed in agreement and shifted so he could pull the oven a little farther from the wall to take a peak. “Ah, I have a tool kit, lemme grab it for you.” You scurried off to the opposite corner of the shop, returning moments later with the aforementioned object in hand. He muttered a small thank you, and the smile you gave in return was so cute he had to look away. 

“I should be good down here. You should probably check on your curry, might burn.” He heard you scoff in protest, but after a moment of silence, you rushed up the stairs and he couldn’t stop the smirk that crept up his face. Osamu turned his attention back to the stove as he flipped open the tool box. 

“Alright Pretty, let’s see what ya got for me.”

“Kuguri, have I ever told you that I’m a fucking god?” You were (sort of) joking, but you couldn’t help the tiny snort that escaped you at the sheer exhaustion on Kuguri’s face when he met your gaze. He sighed and walked over the pot of curry that you had been towering over for the last three hours. 

“I take it the curry was successful?” You gestured for him to try it and took a step back. You clasped your hands together in front of your chest as you watch on with bright eyes and an even brighter grin. 

There was genuinely nothing more satisfying than seeing someone enjoy the food that you made. The way Kuguri sighed into the bite as his eyes fell shut had you swelling with pride, bouncing on the balls of your feet in excitement as you waited for him to say something. He was quiet for what felt like an eternity, before finally, he put down the spoon and turned to you with an unreadable expression. 

“You said you wanted to shut him up?” You nodded, your eyes flitting between him and the pot. “After this, he’ll never be able to speak again.” You cackled in victory and shooed Kuguri out of the kitchen.

“Thank you, thank you, I know I’m a culinary genius. Now shoo, I have to plate everything. You mind letting him know?”

“Sure thing. Oh,” Kuguri whirled back around to look at you “I forgot to mention, I won’t be eating with you guys, I have a meeting with one of the contractors. Save me a plate?” A groan left you and you reached up to clutch his arm, a desperate plea written across your face.

“You’re leaving me here? with him? Alone? Don’t you love me at all?” Kuguri chuckled and waved you off, shooting you a look. 

“You’re a grown woman, I think you can manage one meal with Miya alone.”

“Fine, but if it gets ugly, you have to help me dispose of the body.” He sighed, but you spotted the smile he tried to cover up by wiping a hand down his face. You waved goodbye as you turned your attention back to the food to plate the curry and rice. Hands worked diligently, and as you heard the muffled voices beneath you followed by the shop door closing and footsteps ascending the stairs, you swallowed the bundle of nerves that had worked its way into your system. 

Your grandmother’s food is always well received; It was the star of every function, holiday, and bake sale from way back when you were growing up in Miyagi to now, with you carrying on her legacy. You had never met anyone who didn’t love something from the recipe box, so you weren’t sure why you seemed especially desperate to garner Osamu Miya of all people’s approval.

You were satisfied with the excuse that it was because you didn’t want to give him any more fuel to act like a condescending shit lord to you. 

When the door to the apartment opened, you had just finished placing the prepped plates onto the dinner table. The effort it took in avoiding eye contact was beginning to weigh down on you, and finally, you gave up, looking up from the spoon you were meticulously situating to meet his cocked eyebrow. 

“I think that spoon’s still a little off-center,” he joked. You crossed your arms over the front of you and shot him a glare. 

“Har Har. How did it go with the stove?”

“I got it workin’. Actually wasn’t too bad of a fix. Just a little finicky,” he said. His voice was slightly drowned out by the sound of the kitchen sink running. Your eyes remained trained on his figure, absentmindedly staring as his shoulders moved along with his hands as he washed them. The sound of the faucet turning off pulled you back and you shook your head, turning toward the table with a grimace. 

“Thank you again, I seriously didn’t want to have to gamble any more of the renovation funds,” you said, hoping he didn’t see you staring at him like he was the most interesting being in existence. He sat down across from you and sent a polite smile your way.

“Not a problem.” The two of you stewed in the awkward silence and you noticed that neither of you had reached for the food yet. Did he even like curry? You mentally slapped yourself for forgetting to ask.

“Ah, I’m sorry, I didn’t even think to ask if you liked curry. I just assumed,” you admitted, and he shook his head. 

“Oh no, that’s not it, I just, uh..” Osamu’s voice faltered, and his brows came together with a frown. “I have a feeling I’m gonna like it.” 

The grin that flew onto your face oozed with superiority. The fact that the mere thought of enjoying your food upset him only made your impending victory taste that much sweeter to you. You watched him like a hawk and thrived on how uncomfortable he looked across from you, painstakingly taking his first bite. 

As stated before, there was nothing more satisfying than seeing someone enjoy your food, and you thought Osamu would be no exception, but this stingy little asshole maintained an entirely unreadable expression as he closed his mouth around the spoon, popped it out, chewed, and swallowed. You fidgeted in your seat as you waited for him to say literally anything about it, but he remained lost in thought, looking anywhere but at you as he reached for a second bite. 

“Well?” Your voiced must have snapped him from whatever he was daydreaming about because he looked almost startled when his eyes finally met your own. 

“Oh, sorry...” He trailed off, eyes fluttering back down toward the curry. “It’s good.” 

“Just good?” 

“Its really good?” He offered, and you scoffed, grumbling something about ‘it should be the best damn curry you’ve ever had,’ as you dug into your own plate, melting as soon as the spices touched your tongue. The beef had become so tender that you swore it would fall apart if you so much as looked at it a little too long, and the vegetables had just the right kind of consistency and complimented the beef perfectly. The ginger and curry were so warm together it reminded you of a time during winter break, snuggled with your Grandmother by the old brick fireplace, the vibrant orange glow of the flame illuminating her frail figure as she regaled you with exaggerated stories of her youth. She always made sure to end each tale with a lesson, and a challenge: to never settle until you could say with confidence that you were irrevocably happy. 

Osamu cleared his throat, effectively bringing you back to the current moment. Your eyes flickered over to his plate and you noticed it was empty. He took the napkin and quickly wiped at his mouth, but you still caught a glimpse of the pout that he was clearly trying so hard to hide. A smug grin stretched out across your face and you tilted back down to take another bite. 

“You can get more, if you’d like.” He grunted in response, but got up nonetheless, helping himself to a second plate as he pointedly ignored the pride that oozed off of you. 

“It’s okay, you can say it, the curry is amazing, stupendous, out of this world-”

“It’s delicious.”

You blinked. To be honest, you weren’t expecting him to admit it right off the bat, especially since he made a point to say it was just “good” earlier. Whatever snippy reply you had stored died immediately in your throat, and you found your pride shrinking as a new bashfulness took over instead.

“Oh. Thank you.” Osamu nodded in response, and suddenly it was like a gateway opened - for the first time, you guys conversed with relative ease. It was hardly anything more than history and business, but the fact that you weren’t considering stuffing his body into a trash bag was certainly saying something. It was...nice, being able to talk to him like this, and you had to admit you’d take this over the usual pissing match any day.

Osamu mentioned how Kita was a rice farmer and was his supplier as well as business partner. He spoke about how they were old teammates who decided to go on similar lifepaths which led to them working together once Osamu opened up his shop in Osaka. You learned that they originated from Hyogo, and that Kita still lives there and makes the hour long commute to the shop a few times a week just to help Osamu out with the shop. 

You told him about how you managed the volleyball club back in high school. (He joked about showing you a few moves, and you joked back that you bet you could destroy him since the Wakatoshi Ushijima taught you well enough that you can hold your own in a match any day of the week.) You talked about moving to Tokyo with Tendou after graduating, and how you guys decided to open up the bakery together as business partners. You gushed about the hopes you had for Paradis, the dreams that had spent so much time buried in your notebook finally getting a chance to come to life with this new location. Your eyes sparkled as you babbled on about all the plans you had for Paradis. 

“I just...I always intended for Paradis to be more than just a bakery.” Both of your plates had been long finished and were set off to the side. You sat cross legged on the dining chair, your hands fiddling with each other in your lap. Osamu had his chin resting on his hand and he listened so intently it sometimes made you feel a little too seen. 

“How so?”

“Well, for one, I’d love to expand the menu,” you explained, and you saw his face fall with furrowed brows and a deep frown. “What’s wrong?” 

“Why would ya expand the menu?” There was a sharpness to his voice, and you were taken aback. You shrunk back in your seat as you chose your next words carefully.

“I want people to enjoy all of my food, not just the sweets...why?” His face hardened, eyes trained anywhere but your face as he stood up abruptly. He reached for both dishes and made his way to the kitchen wordlessly. 

The two of you had a habit of having this uncomfortable silence fall between you, and you hated it, because the tension was always so thick it felt like you were suffocating. You wondered if he hated it too, or if he thrived in it, like some sort of deranged villain reveling in the suffering of his underlings. You found yourself glaring at his back as he washed your dishes, drying them and putting them off to the side without saying a word. 

Eventually, he turned around, and the frown that had been evident on his face deepened once he made your irritated gaze. “What?”

“What do you mean ‘what’? What the hell did I do to piss you off?”

“There’s no reason why you should expand the menu.” 

“I just gave you a reason. Plus, you seemed to like my food enough to have two helpings, it’s not like I can’t cook. Why shouldn’t I?” 

“The curry was fine, it wasn’t anythin’ to write home about. I was just starving because I missed lunch.” You scoffed.

“That’s a load of bullshit. You know you loved it.” 

“I told ya it was better than it was because ya would’ve had a hissy fit otherwise.” 

“Oh, fuck you, Miya. I can’t believe I was actually beginning to enjoy your company for once.” He rolled his eyes and made his way to your apartment entrance. He paused at the threshold of the open door, looking straight ahead and most definitely not at you. 

“Don’t bother expanding. Stick to what you’re good at if ya want any chance of success here.” With that last remark, he ushered down the stairs and back home, leaving you frozen in the kitchen consumed with rage, shock, confusion - and you didn’t move until Kuguri came through the door and gasped in surprise at the sight of you still in the kitchen.

“Jesus, y/n, you scared the hell out of me. What’s going on? Are you okay?” The frustration bubbled up inside you and you felt hot tears tickle the back of your eyes. The shock of Osamu’s sudden animosity toward you settled into your bones, leaving behind a residue of white hot anger. You willed the tears away and looked over at the curry, then at Kuguri. 

“I hate him, Kuguri.”

Prev | Masterlist | Next

Fun Facts -

no fun facts today, My brain is fried lol. Might add later!

A/N: Long boi today, I’m so sorry for the long wait for this chapter!! I hope you guys enjoyed the holiday if you celebrated and I hope you enjoy the chapter - I feel like I should have definitely split this up into two parts, let me know if you’d prefer smaller chapters or if this is more preferable lmao thank you ok bye

Taglist (shoot me an ask if you’d like to be added!) -

@larkspyrr @oikawaandkuroostan @fucktheworlddude @doctorspencereid @keiarma @cherriechurros​ @halesandy​ @k3nma-fairy​ @jewlmin​ @tabipleats​ @kaleidoscopekai​ @confusedturtle​ @vintagexparker​ @hoeevern​ @syaziahvg​ @hallothankmas​ @lilith412426​

#is this a terrible time to post #probably #no one is active rn usually lmao #but its fine #Itadakimasu!! #osamu smau #osamu x reader #osamu miya #osamu miya x reader #osamu miya smau #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu smau #h #haikyuu!! smau #hq!! smau #hq!! x reader #haikyu!! x reader

[bookstantrash]

A/N: I read a lot of marvellous nessian fics these past days, so I got super pumped up to write a one-shot while I’m still working on my other fic. Good reading!

Dangerously Cute

“Nesta, you can’t be serious”

“I assure you I am” Nesta replied to an exasperated Cassian “I always wanted a pet”

“You realise you can’t keep this thing, right?”

“Why not? It’s cute” Nesta tried not to laugh at how uncomfortable Cassian looked.

The five hundred year old Illyrian, General of the Night Court’s Army, Lord of Bloodshed was scared of the tiny little cute thing curled up in front of the fire place.

“It’s a dragon” he practically screamed, his voice an octave higher “Mother’s tits Nesta, are you insane? They kill people, they breathe fire and are highly dangerous”

“You also kill people, I also breathe fire,” she summoned her silver flames, blowing towards the fading fire and reigniting it “And we’re both deadly”

“Sweetheart,” Cassian softly said, eyeing the creature which snored peacefully in their living room “you can’t keep a baby dragon. It can’t even control its fire yet. And although I would like very much to see Devlon’s hissy fit when that dragon burns down his house, I’m worried about the rest of the Illyrians”

“I can teach him” Nesta simply replied, taking her shoes off and getting comfortable on the couch “As you said, he’s a baby. He’ll learn fast”

Already her mind was thinking about which books would have any information regarding the rare and near extinct specie.

Nesta had been deep in the Illyrian forest collecting some medicinal herbs for the camp healers when she heard a low cry. Following the sound, she found the small dragon hiding between the leafs, the remains of his hatched egg his only company. And so Nesta did the most sensible thing to do: she wrapped the creature in her cloak and brought him with her back home.

However, Cassian didn’t seem to like the ideia of sharing their house with the fire breathing reptile. He had arrived when Nesta was changing in their bedroom, and were it not for his surprised yelp, she would have entered the room to find a corpse where before was a dragon baby. She had walked in to find him with his sword unsheathed, ready to strike it down.

“Will you keep standing all the way over there?” she said, missing her mate’s warmth after a long day “It won’t bite you. It’s only sleeping”

Grumbling, Cassian slowly walked towards the couch, going of his way to avoid getting near the sleeping creature.

“He’s not a dog Nesta” he argued, getting behind Nesta so her back was against his chest, his arms circling her waist.

“And I’m not stupid Cassian” she snapped.

He didn’t think her capable, he didn’t trust her, he thought her weak and—

“Hey, I didn’t say that” Cassian replied, noticing the change in her mood, both by the mate bond and the way she had stiffened in his arms. He knew how she sometimes slipped back to her cold and distant self.

A year had gone by since she come to live with him in Illyria, a year of fighting — both physically and emotionally — and a year of healing. For both of them. And after tears had been shed and walls had been broken, they had found love and peace with each other, the mate bonding snapping only two months ago.

But old habits were hard to die. Some of her wounds — and his — were still healing. Were easier to open.

“I’m just worried about you getting hurt” he murmured, squeezing her tighter “You are the most intelligent, strong and sharp minded female — and woman — I’ve ever met. I don’t doubt you’ll have him eating from your hand in a month’s time.”

“But...?” she asked, her cold wall already melting at his words.

“Just try to be careful. And ask for help if you need it. Amren may know something given how ancient she is” he kissed the top of her head” I’m sorry it seemed like I didn’t trust you.”

“I’m sorry I snapped” she replied, her fingers drawing lazy circles on his arms “I got too ahead of myself imagining how it would feel to fly on the dragon’s back beside you and didn’t want my silly dreams shattered”

Cassian couldn’t believe his ears. Nesta wanted to raise the dragon not only because she had wanted a pet but because she was also thinking about him.

“I think,” he said, joy shining in the bond “That’s a wonderful dream. One which you’ll make true. However, try to get a more conventional pet next time. How about a cat?”

“I want a mountain lion”

And as Nesta laughed at his shocked expression, Cassian thought he’d gladly house as many dangerous creatures as she wished, if only he could forever hear the beautiful sound of her laugh.

•

tags: @sayosdreams @thewayshedreamed @sjm-things @perseusannabeth @arin1030-blog @caotica-e-quieta @vidalinav @swankii-art-teacher @ireallyshouldsleeprn @duskandstarlight @greerlunna @thegoddessaltenia @dayanna-hatter @verypaleninja

#sarah j maas #sjmaas #sjm fanfic #sjm books #acotar #acomaf #acowar #acofas #acosf #nessian #cassian x nesta #nesta archeron #cassian

[willowbird]

Hello! Can I request andreil Christmas morning with the foxes? Or just them?

Yes, yes you can <33

(Technically I have one more prompt before this one, but consider this my contribution to your asks for happy things~)

-----

Sleepy, cozy mornings were a new thing for Neil. Not that he’d never been tired in the morning, or had never been warm and comfortable. There was a difference. Sleepy, for one, implied a certain level of inherent safety and lack of urgency that even throughout his entire first year with the Foxes he had never had the luxury of. Similarly, cozy was a foreign notion to him that carried a downy reassurance of safety he’d never been privileged enough to even consider. 

Right now, though? Right now he was basking in what was decidedly a sleepy, cozy morning. 

Light was filtering through the slatted blinds of Andrew’s bedroom in the house in Columbia like ghost-breath, pale and ephemeral in the early morning. Neil’s eyes were open, but only just, and his mind was so peacefully blank that he spent what could have been ten minutes and could have been a full hour just watching the light steadily warm and brighten, igniting the floating specks of dust like tiny fireworks in a celebration of such unfathomable ease. Behind him were the low, steady cadences of Andrew’s breathing against his shoulder and his heartbeat against his spine -- a duet that Neil idly thought he’d be happy to play on repeat for the rest of his life.

So yeah, he was cozy. He was sleepy. He was... happy. And he was content to bask in that for as long as he could. Stray thoughts filtered through the haze of his only half-awake mind, none of them sticking, none of them elevating his own heart rate above its slow, relaxed beat. It was more that he just... noticed things, then let them go. He noticed the shifting of the light, he noticed the creaking of the house, he noticed that warm, pleased feeling that pulsed in his chest and spread all the way down to each finger and each toe when Andrew sighed and nuzzled his face against his shoulder, the arm around his waist tightening slightly. 

He allowed himself to wake slowly, and when he did feel alert and fully conscious, he remained in place to bask just a little bit longer anyway. 

“Hn..”

Behind him, Andrew made a small, sleepy noise of his own and tightened his arm around him again, fully hiding his face against the back of Neil’s neck. Since Andrew couldn’t see him anyway, Neil didn’t bother hiding the smile the action conjured. 

“Morning,” he offered in greeting, knowing the difference between Andrew’s unconscious movements and signs that he was actually awake but resisting it.

“Too early.” Andrew’s response was muffled, grumbled as it was against Neil’s skin, but decipherable. 

Neil shifted slightly, and Andrew instantly loosened his hold so that Neil could roll onto his side to face him. As much as he enjoyed being held by Andrew sometimes, it was still his favorite to lay facing him. He liked to be able to look at him, to watch his face and see the way light brought out new hues in his hazel eyes. They were almost green this morning, but flecked with brown that flashed gold when he narrowed his eyes into a glare. 

“What?” Andrew accused. 

Neil debated telling Andrew that he was beautiful, that getting to see his face first thing in the morning was his favorite thing about waking up in Columbia, that if it was the last thing he saw he’d count it worth it every single time. 

Instead he shrugged and said, “Nothing.”

Andrew’s glare narrowed and by the accusatory glance at Neil’s mouth, Neil supposed he must be smiling or making some other offensive expression that he knew Andrew must either like more or even less than he said, considering how often he would kiss it away.

Not this morning, though, which was preferable. Neil loved kissing Andrew. He did not like the particular vintage of ass that occurred first thing in the morning before either of them had a chance to brush their teeth. 

By the annoyed sigh Andrew made, Neil supposed he had come to the same conclusion. He didn’t resist when Andrew put his whole hand on Neil’s face to push it into the pillow, only humming in an amused way that he knew would annoy the other man. Andrew was already rolling out of bed when Neil heard the scoff that told him he’d succeeded on that point. 

Pleased with himself, Neil took an extra few moments to stretch, burying his face into Andrew’s pillow and inhaling deeply, allowing himself to go a little light-headed on the rush he got when his senses were flooded with Andrew’s scent. Andrew was gone by the time he’d fully roused himself and was back by the time Neil had changed out of his pajamas and into some lounge pants and a fresh t-shirt. They didn’t have any real plans for the day that he knew of and he was planning to hold onto this cozy feeling for as long as possible even if the sleepy bit had faded. 

Andrew was waiting for him in the hallway when Neil got out of the bathroom, holding a red bundle of knitted fabric in his hands. When Neil only raised an eyebrow, Andrew shoved it at his chest and said, “Nicky’s stupid tradition.”

Neil might have asked, except that he could now see that Andrew had pulled on a sweater over the shirt he’d been wearing when Neil had entered the bathroom. It was dark green with a gold and white tree on it, loopy knitted lettering proclaiming ‘Happy Holidays!’ with aggressive cheer. Now he knew he was grinning, and he didn’t even press a hand to his mouth to hide and cover it, because it felt nothing like his father’s smile. This was something entirely different, born of shock and awe and humor and affection in a combination Neil didn’t think he’d ever actually experienced before. 

“Put yours on before you come down,” Andrew ordered with a flat expression Neil didn’t believe for an instant. “I do not want to listen to Nicky’s whining.”

Then he turned and marched down the stairs, where Neil realized he could hear the sounds of quietly chipper holiday music and the rustle of bodies moving around. 

Neil looked down at the bundle in his hands and shook it out to see the design. He wasn’t sure whether to laugh or groan at the image, which was probably the ugliest-looking rendition of a reindeer he’d ever seen in his life. Neil would never say that he had an eye for fashion or art, but this was just... sad. The shade of the nose was just slightly darker than the background of the sweater and he was pretty sure the animal was cross-eyed. 

Ah well, it wasn’t like he’d have to look at it if he was wearing it. With a shake of his head, he tugged it on and turned to head downstairs. At least it was warm. It was also big on him and knitted with something soft, so if Neil were to call it anything, he might say it was... cozy.

“Neil!” Nicky cheered from the stove when Neil entered the kitchen. He was wearing a bright green sweater with an elf on it. Or at least, he thought it was an elf. To his knowledge, elves didn’t wear purple eyeshadow, but hey -- he wasn’t here to judge. “You wore it! I knew it was the perfect sweater for you.”

Neil raised an eyebrow and tugged on the sweater, looking down at it. “Huh. It’s that Christmas deer, right? Randolph?” he asked, full well knowing the correct name. He’d lived on the run for half his life, not under a rock. 

Nicky made a pained, whimpering sound. “Dead. I’m dead. You’ve killed me. Neil, don’t... don’t tell me you’ve never heard of... of Rudolph..?”

Neil looked up at him and affixed something between innocence and confusion on his face. “Isn’t that the guy who makes that snowman. Uh. Freezy or something?”

“Frosty! No, he--”

“Nicky, he’s fucking with you.” This from Aaron, who had no right to ruin his fun when he was sitting there with (a distinctly cross-eyed) Santa Claus on his own sweater. Why did all of these characters have a vision impairment?

Nicky looked from Aaron to Neil, who just shrugged and moved to make himself a cup of coffee. 

“Aww Neil, you asshole,” Nicky whined, but the effect was somewhat ruined by the grin on his face as he turned back to the stove, where he was just finishing up the bacon. It appeared to be the last thing on the menu, because the table was already laden with every single breakfast food Neil could fathom. Three different kinds of eggs, toast, waffles, sausages, biscuits -- it was a regular feast and Neil’s stomach rumbled at the sight. 

“Wow Nicky, what’s with the spread. Did I forget someone’s birthday or something?” Neil asked as he took his usual spot next to Andrew, who’d been watching the whole previous exchange over the rim of his own coffee cup. 

Nicky turned around with the plate of bacon in hand, his expression stricken. “Neil you.. you do know what today is... don’t you?”

Aaron sighed and opened his mouth, then snapped it shut again and glared at Andrew, who must have kicked him. Neil bit back a smirk and frowned instead. “Uh... December twenty-fifth? Probably?” He looked toward the fridge, where Nicky’s calendar hung. The twenty-fifth was circled in green and red marker with two smiley-faces and at least six exclamation points. 

“Shit, it’s your birthday isn’t it? Sorry Nicky, I forgot. I’ll make it up to--”

“It’s CHRISTMAS, Neil! Christmas!!” He set the plate down, like he needed to get it out of his hands before he dropped it. Or maybe so he could fee his hands to gesture emphatically at the sweaters they were all wearing. And the paper snowflakes in the window. And the Christmas lights strung around the cabinets. And the little snowman figurines arranged in various places around the kitchen (even the salt and pepper shakers were a Mr. and Mrs. Snowman now).

Neil followed each gesture obediently, then met Nicky’s eyes. “Oh. Is it?”

The sound that came out of Nicky was something between a scream and a sob. Neil reached across the table and pilfered a piece of bacon, munching on it as the twins also started to fill their plates and Nicky pulled himself back together again. 

This time, it was Andrew that took pity on his cousin. 

“Neil knows what and when Christmas is, Nicky.”

Nicky looked from Andrew to Neil, then to Aaron (who rolled his eyes and took two extra links of sausage), before finally settling his gaze back on Neil. 

Neil blinked at him, then smiled -- because.. well, he couldn’t think of a reason not to, and wasn’t that a weird reason to smile? Instead of commenting on any of that he stole two sausages directly off of Aaron’s plate and put them on Nicky’s, ignoring the affronted cursing from the other man. 

“Merry Christmas, Nicky,” he said pointedly, then went about loading his own plate. 

Neil had never thought much about Christmas before, it just hadn’t been anywhere close to his list of things to worry about. But now... now that he was able to think about things that, well, that weren’t worries he thought that maybe it was something he could kinda get used to. Maybe it was something he could like -- especially if it meant sleepy, cozy mornings and times like this, where he could be so comfortable, so happy, in the circle of his family.

#aftg #aftg fanfic #asks #100 followers #my writing #wolfstsrshipper #neil josten #andrew minyard #aaron minyard #nicky hemmick #christmas morning #christmas fic #holiday fic #nicky made those sweaters #he made them by hand #the twins have a silent agreement that they've never talked about #but christmas is the one day where they've always indulged nicky #its now they show their appreciation to him #they just kinda let him go nuts on christmas #and they go along with it #not without complaint #but without any real resistance #because of that christmas has kinda become the Ultimate Day Of Happiness for Nicky #and i just really like that hc

[cali-holland]

Break Up Songs- Tom Holland One Shot

Pairing: Tom Holland X Reader

Prompt: Being best friends for years, you and Tom have helped each other through many breakups, but neither of you had ever thought there could be something more between the two of you until tonight, when you both celebrated your cheating exes with drunk karaoke.

Word Count: 2800

Loosely Based On: Breakup Song by Little Mix

Warnings: drinking, swearing, mentions of cheating, mentions of vomiting/alcohol poisoning

Featured Songs: Before He Cheats by Carrie Underwood, Sweet Caroline by Neil Diamond, What Makes You Beautiful by One Direction, and My Heart Will Go On by Celine Dion

Masterlist   Tom Holland Masterlist

*Gif is not mine*

~~~

Eight relationships. Eight breakups. Eight first kisses. Eight last kisses. Eight long nights on the phone blissfully talking about that special first date. And six long nights crying over the heartbreaking last date.

Over the course of your eight year friendship with Tom, the two of you had been through six relationships in total- not together, no that number was still zero. Three times Tom had been there to help you through a breakup (once to egg the cheating bastard’s house), and three times you had been there for Tom as he went through a breakup (sadly, you didn’t get to egg anyone’s house for him).

Somehow, your relationships never really lined up with each other. Whenever you had a boyfriend, Tom was single; whenever Tom had a girlfriend, you were single. That’s just how it always worked. One person’s breakup would almost consistently line up just days after or before the other’s first date.

Until now.

Tonight was the seventh and eighth breakup. It wasn’t really anything you or Tom saw coming exactly; you both kind of knew your own individual relationships were fading out, but you never expected your boyfriend to cheat on you with Tom’s girlfriend. Technically, you had the seventh breakup and he had the eighth because you found out about the infidelity first and then called him. Well, you guessed that was why that double date you all had felt like you were there with Tom more so than your actual boyfriend. So, naturally, the night of your breakups, you both went out to the bar with Harrison and the twins. It almost became a tradition: whenever one of you went through a breakup, the other would take them out for drinks (how shitfaced you all ended up at the end of the night coincided with how shitty the breakup was).

“To getting cheated on.” You said, raising up your shot glass that was filled to the rim with tequila.

“Cheers.” Tom clinked his shot glass against yours, as the other three boys chimed in happily. The five of you threw your shots back, only cringing a little from the harsh alcohol soaring down your throat.

“Shit, we forgot to order limes.” You coughed a little.

“I got the next round.” Tom offered, getting up from the table to order more shots, but this time remembering the limes.

“So, now Mandy and Troy are out of the picture.” Harry teased you.

“And I’m thankful for that- those cheating bastards.” You scoffed, “I always thought Mandy wasn’t good enough for Tom.”

“You never think any of his girlfriends are good enough for him.” Harrison pointed out with a laugh.

“That’s because he always dates bitchy, selfish girls.”

“Wow that doesn’t make you sound bitchy or selfish at all.” Sam teased.

“I’m just saying, he doesn’t date the right kind of girls.” You tried to explain yourself, already feeling the tequila a little bit. Another reason why this bar specifically was part of the tradition- each shot of tequila felt like two because somehow they had strong alcohol.

“And what would the right kind be? You?” Harrison laughed. “You almost sound jealous, you know that?”

“Oh my God, no.” You scrunched up your nose, “Haz, I know you’re pretty, but that doesn’t excuse you from saying stupid shit.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment.” He smiled proudly, and you just rolled your eyes at him. “Still, you and Mandy seem to have the same taste in guys.” He wiggled his eyebrows at you, leaning in teasingly, and you put a hand over his face, shoving him away.

“I got the limes!” Tom grinned, placing the next round of shots in front of you all.

While you all got ready to take your second shots of the evening, you found yourself thinking of Harrison’s words. It was true that you didn’t like any of his girlfriends; something about them just bothered you. You always pinned it on them being too stuck up, too fake- too bitchy and selfish, but maybe Harrison was more right than you’d like to admit. You didn’t think of yourself as a jealous person, and yet you might have been jealous of his girlfriends. Surely after eight years though, you would have been able to tell, right? You would’ve been able to tell that you liked your best friend as more than a friend? But yet again, you now had a valid reason to hate his most recent ex because well, she was the other woman in your own relationship.

A couple rounds later and it was your turn to get everyone shots, leaving the four boys alone. Tom watched eagerly as the bar’s employees started to set up for karaoke night, one of his personal favorite things about this particular bar. Drunk karaoke was his own highlight of these breakup night outs; what was better than getting over heartbreak by drunkenly embarrassing yourself in front of a bunch of strangers (while hoping the videos never surface and ruin his career)?

“You gonna sing with Y/N again?” Harrison asked Tom, watching his friend focus intently on the karaoke machine.

“Well, none of you will do it with me.” Tom replied, turning back to his friend and brothers. “You know what’s weird? This is the first time in years that both Y/N and I have been single at the same time.”

“It’s been four hours since your breakup.” Harrison pointed out.

“What’s weird is that you thought of that. Was that drunk you or sober you that came to that realization?” Harry joked.

“I just think it’s strange. You two have been single for ages.” He lifted up his hand to motion at Harry and Harrison; Sam just laughed proudly to himself.

“You gonna do anything about it?” Sam inquired.

“You mean like date Y/N? Nah, that’d be too- too,” Tom trailed off, not knowing the right word for it. He felt his heart twist a little at the thought of dating you. It wasn’t that he wouldn’t like to date you; it just would be odd, wouldn’t it? Wouldn’t he have figured out long ago that he actually had feelings for you? And wouldn’t you have acted on it by now if you thought of him like that? There would have been signs, right? No matter what, his drunken brain was too gone for him to think of the right word. “I don’t know. Too something.”

“Whatever you say.” Harrison laughed, sipping on his water. He was familiar with how these nights ended with you and Tom, so after a few shots at the beginning of the night, he called himself good. He needed to be sober enough to keep you two in line.

When you returned with the drinks, Tom couldn’t help but look at you in a different light. In all of your eight years of friendship, you were finally single when he was single- albeit it was under sort of bad circumstances. There was no denying he found you attractive, and you were by far the funniest, most interesting person he’d ever met, but he always just categorized his feelings for you as strictly platonic. Though, he definitely felt different about you than he did with his other girl friends.

It wasn’t until later though, once you were both thoroughly drunk, that he got up and tugged on your hand. “C’mon, love, let’s do karaoke.”

“No,” You whined, as the twins drunkenly cheered you on. Harrison just wished he could be at least tipsy if he had to watch you and Tom drunkenly do karaoke for yet another night.

“Please, for me? We gotta sing at least one iconic break up song.” Tom pouted.

“Fine.” You stood up and followed him to the little stage. You couldn’t hear what he told the worker as his song choice, but you heard the familiar opening to Carrie Underwood’s “Before He Cheats”.

“Suitable enough?” He chuckled, proud of his choice.

“Right now, he's probably slow dancing, with a bleached-blond tramp, and she's probably getting frisky,” You started singing, your words a bit slurred by the speed of the song, “Right now, he's probably buying her some fruity little drink, ‘cause she can't shoot whiskey,”

“Right now, he's probably up behind her with a pool-stick, showing her how to shoot a combo, and he don't know,” Tom sang back to you, banging his head with the beat as it went into the chorus.

“I dug my key into the side of his pretty little souped-up four-wheel drive, carved my name into his leather seats,” You and Tom both sang, jamming out to the song, “I took a Louisville slugger to both headlights, I slashed a hole in all four tires, maybe next time he'll think before he cheats,”

“God, I’m too sober for this.” Harrison muttered, watching you two from across the bar. Harry and Sam clapped encouragingly, whistling for effect.

“They’re horrendous.” Harry laughed, and Sam started to film you and Tom drunkenly singing the bridge.

“That’s what makes it great, though!” He smiled. As the song finished, Harrison stood up.

“I need to grab them before they realize “Sweet Caroline” is on the playlist. The last thing I need to hear is ba ba bum every thirty seconds.”

“Ba ba bum!” Sam and Harry both chimed, hearing the iconic song in their heads.

Calling it a night for all of you, Harrison managed to get you and Tom out onto the street, you clinging to Tom while you stumbled together. Harry and Sam, while still drunk, were arguing over Harry’s music choice for their walk home, his phone currently playing One Direction from his “Drunk Karaoke” playlist.

“You don’t know, oh, oh!” Harry shouted into the oblivion of night over his twin brother’s protests. “You don’t know you’re beautiful.”

“Sam’s not beautiful.” Tom joked, and his brother shot him a glare.

“Oh my god, wait, Harry— like Harry Styles.” You mumbled to yourself in a drunken epiphany.

“Damn right!” Harry nodded, keeping the song going. “I need to queue more songs.”

“As long as it’s not—“ Harrison started, but Tom cut him off.

“We didn’t sing “Sweet Caroline”!” He exclaimed, looking at you with wide eyes.

“No!” Sam, Harry, and Harrison all protested, but you two started anyway.

Mumbling at the beginning because you two didn’t know the words, you both crescendoed into a yell, “Touching you! Sweet Caroline, ba ba bum!”

“Thank fucking God, we’re home.” Harrison breathed out a sigh of relief, stepping up to their house as you and Tom tried to figure out the second verse, singing incoherently.

“I feel sick.” You whined, making a (somewhat sloppy) beeline for the bathroom and Tom trailed off after you. Meanwhile, the responsible one went to get all the pain meds and water in order for tomorrow.

“Why did you dare me to have those last two drinks before we left?” You mumbled as you and Tom sat down on either side of the toilet. You were propped up against the bathtub while Tom leaned on the wall.

“Because you on ten shots of tequila is fun.” He laughed, and you glared at him.

“It was not ten,” You trailed off, trying to think of how much you drank, “Fuck it, I don’t know how many I had.”

You rested your head on the side of the tub, letting it cool your heated face. It was silent for a few moments as Tom looked at you, studying your features.

“What’re you staring at?” You asked.

“Just thinking.” He shrugged. “We should sing Celine Dion next karaoke night.”

“Celine Dion? You haven’t even seen the Titanic, we can’t sing-” You were cut off by him belting out the ending of the iconic song.

“You’re here, there’s nothing I fear!” Tom sang out, basically shouting. Giggling, you joined in with him until the two of you ended the song with a fit of laughter. As you continued to laugh at the sheer ridiculousness of the song, Tom spoke up quietly.

“I think I’m in love with you.” His voice was so soft, but the bathroom seemed to echo it, making it reach your ears like a thousand bricks. You looked at him speechless for a moment, processing his words. “If you don’t feel the same, that’s fine. I just had to-“

It was your turn to cut him off as you closed your eyes and leaned in across the bathroom floor to kiss him. The shock on his lips was quick to wear off with him moving his chapped lips against yours. Your position was awkward, trying to avoid his outstretched limbs and the sketchy looking towel on the floor; sensing your discomfort, Tom wrapped his arms around your waist to pull you into his, keeping his lips on yours the whole time. He kissed you like his life depended on it, his tongue dipping past your lips as the taste of tequila and lime overpowered your senses. You pulled back, your eyes opening to find him staring right back at you.

“I think I’m in love with you too.” You smiled shyly at him, panting a little from the heat of the kiss.

“I wanna kiss you again.” He said and you nodded, eagerly leaning into him again.

You weren’t sure how long you two stayed like that, perfectly content in your drunken bubble on the bathroom floor, but the bizarre moment was ended by Harrison throwing the door open.

“Why aren’t you two singing “Sweet Caroline” anymore? Did Y/N choke on vomit?” He asked, the door flying open. He froze as he looked down at you in Tom’s lap, both of you sporting swollen lips. “Oh no, you choked on Tom’s tongue.”

“Fuck off.” You hit him in the leg as he snickered at the two of you.

“It’s about time, but get off the bathroom floor. That’s disgusting.” He said while making his way out of the bathroom.

“He’s not wrong.” Tom laughed and you stood up, before helping him up.

“About time indeed.” You smiled, pulling him in for another kiss.

~~~

Tag List: @viagracex​​ @theamazingtomholland​​  @harrisonosterfieldhazmyheart​ @joyleenl​​ @t-o-m-holland​​ @lonikje​​ @sleepybesson​​ @sunkisseddreamer​​ @hollandsamor @in-a-lot-of-fandoms-tbh​​ @gorrillaglue13 @petersoftboyparker @musicalkey @duskholland​

Tom Tag List:@quaksonhehe​​ @tomkindholland​

#tom holland #tom holland imagine #tom holland one shot #tom holland fic #tom holland fanfic #tom holland x reader #tom holland x you #tom holland x y/n

[sunflowerandco]

Act VI: Looking Back

Rating: T for language

previous acts on the link in my bio :)

Hey everyone. After my favorite combo meal of some good ol' depression™ and school, I'm back to writing! I really hope you enjoy and I'm very thankful for all of the support if you stuck around this long. Thank you so much ❤

I hope you enjoy this origin story for Duncney in this universe

5 years before Act V

Bridgette approached a very focused Courtney in the hall. "Hey, Court. Got any plans this weekend?"

She responded, her face still buried in the locker she was trying to organize before heading home for the weekend. "Studying, studying, and more studying. I've got two AP exams in two weeks and my livelihood depends on me getting good enough grades."

"Is there any chance you have one day to let yourself have some fun?"

Courtney pondered and knew her response wouldn't please her friend. Still, she delivered it with a smile. "No." She knew Bridgette's campaign for fun was coming any second now as she shut her locker.

“You’ve been studying all week, Courtney. Come to Wasaga with us! My step-dad lent me the beach house for the weekend.”

Courtney felt apprehensive at the idea of a day on the beach with Bridgette, Geoff and their insistent need to suck face most of the time. “No thanks. I don’t want to be your third wheel.”

“You won’t be! It won’t be just me and Geoff. He practically invited our lunch period. Plus, Duncan’s coming...”

“And that holds significance to my decision because...?”

“...Because you like him.”

“I do not! He’s annoying, has no regard for authority, and is so, totally gross. I don’t need you setting up dates for me. At least not another disaster like Bradley.”

“To be fair, you did have a crush on him.”

“That was before I knew he was a total jerk.”

“What matters is that you gave him a chance. Why not give Duncan one? I've seen the way you look at him.” Courtney gave her look, signaling her to quiet down in front of everyone else occupying the halls. Bridgette smiled triumphantly and shrugged her shoulders matter-of-factly, finally getting through to Courtney.

"See? I'm never wrong." Bridgette walked off presumably to find Geoff. "I'll pick you up at two."

"I didn't say yes!"

"Love you, too!"

***

Courtney could deal with sweaty teenagers in a crowded setting. She could deal with speakers blaring in her ears. But, she couldn't stand to see Bradley's face across the room before running to Bridgette.

"Why is Bradley here?!"

"I don't know! I know for a fact Geoff didn't invite him. He was the only person off limits."

She knew she'd have to spend the better half of her day avoiding Bradley.

Courtney stood in front of the bathroom mirror of the beach house, washing her hands and reapplying her lip balm. For one thing, she had to hide from the guy she wasted a month of her life on. On the other hand, she couldn't find him. Not that she cared. Oh, no, no, no. Not Courtney. She didn't come to this outing hoping she'd find him. And she would never admit that even to herself.

When she exited the washroom, she bumped into a brown-haired, blue polo-wearing dudebro practically standing in front of the door.

"Hey, Courtney. You know you can't avoid me forever."

"It doesn't hurt to try."

"Listen, I just wanted to talk."

"In order for that to happen, there'd have to be something to talk about."

"Well, there is. I want to start all over. You and me. I've got drafts coming up for university football. Having a girl on my arm would help with my image and, well, I figured you could benefit changing that uptight, boring image everyone has on you."

Courtney scoffed, feigning interest. "Wow. While that sounds incredibly tempting-" Courtney started off with sarcasm.

Bradley wasn't the most receptive to rejection, but still persisted. "I knew you'd see it my way. It would help the both of us."

Courtney rolled her eyes at his insistent need to cut her off at every chance she had to speak. Her eyes diverted from his and her eyes gravitated to the neon green hair she spotted across the room. He hadn't noticed her stare, but seeing him made a sense calm take over her mind.

"...I'm gonna have to pass. Don't come up to me again wasting my time. I don’t need to associate myself with an asshole like you."

She finally felt like he would leave her alone for the remainder of senior year after letting him hear it. Courtney knew that wasn't the answer he wanted from his displeased layer of expression on his face. She held her hand out with a smile.

"Pleasure doing business with you." He begrudgingly shook her hand to save face from possible onlookers.

***

Duncan, Geoff, and DJ were all engrossed in conversation when Duncan's attention rerouted in Courtney's direction. DJ's voice faded slowly out of the forefront. "...All I'm saying is if dude didn't want his underwear up the flagpole, he should stop leaving it around the locker room!"

"What is he doing here?" Duncan was covertly protective over Courtney in the aspect of terrible ex-boyfriends. His reaction to seeing her shake hands with him made Geoff and DJ turn in that direction.

"I don't know, man. I swear I didn't invite that joke. It seems like they're making up, so that's good." The can Duncan held warped in shape as his grip tightened.

It was no secret how Duncan felt about Bradley. He had to spend two months convincing people that pantsing him, throwing eggs at his car and TP'ing his house were all in the name of fun and not some way of avenging Courtney.

He didn't mean to avoid her after the fact, but it made controlling his emotions easier.

***

Courtney, fresh off of telling Bradley off, finally felt she was able to enjoy herself for the day. As the day transitioned into a darker, breezy evening, her introverted nature dwindled as she allowed herself to let go. Catching up with acquaintances from various classes, taking in the ocean views, and the overall atmosphere made her feel recharged in a rare feat. Still, it was hard to find Duncan while sticking to Bridgette's side. She'd hate to verbally admit she missed trading meaningless quips with him, and it was out of the ordinary for them to be in the same setting without exchanging any words. She separated from her friend when she wandered around several spaces of the house. Then, she heard him.

He was projecting his conversation loud enough for onlookers to hear what he said. "It's actually sad how many times and ways I had to reject that girl. Even today I had to tell her to stay away from me. I mean, why would I want to associate with her?" A few laughs could be heard from the same acquaintances she caught up with at his declarations of rejection all created by him.

Duncan decided he'd heard enough and approached him. "You better watch you say around here. Courtney's not around to defend herself, and I'm known for not using my words to solve problems."

"Oh? Is that bitch your piece of ass for the week?" Bradley immediately felt threatened at how much Duncan was fuming at him. Duncan swung a fist, but he moved out of the way quick enough to dodge the attack.

Geoff immediately came between the two of them to settle the tension. "Just get out of here, dude."

***

She heard every word of it. She didn't want to defend herself for once. Her mind just kept repeating to itself. You need to get out. She sat on the sand with her knees pulled to her chest. Courtney felt Duncan sit next to her without a greeting. She still spoke lowly to fill the silence between them. "What gives him the right to think he can do and say whatever he pleases like that?!"

"You're right. Let me let him have it, Princess."

"No, it's not worth it. He's not, at the very least. And you need to stop getting into trouble all the time."

At the time, Duncan's need for revenge couldn't be subdued. He'd let it go for now, but his mind wouldn't rest until he felt justice was served on that rich, entitled fuck. "It's not like anyone cares if I do. Everyone just wants to police me-"

"I do." She immediately retreated to the ocean's view after she blurted those two words out pretty angrily.

A silent moment passed between the two of them. His brain felt like mush hearing that and seeing the bright reflection of the moon on her skin. All of his previous thoughts were clouded leaving one subject clear. He quietly said the first thing that came to his mind. "You look beautiful."

Courtney had gotten used to Duncan calling her nicknames. They were mostly delivered backhanded in response to her insults. This time it was unprovoked. It blurred the lines between real and fake. She decided not to respond and change the subject instead. She crossed her arms in defense of the drop in temperature. "I want nothing more than to leave this stupid place."

"Here." He said as he peeled the t-shirt off his back. Courtney truly didn't mean to stare as the fabric became less and less attached to his torso. He handed it to her after noticing she shivered when the wind picked up speed. She looked away quicker than she wanted him to notice.

"As if I need another reason for people to look at me weirdly."

He knew she just reacted the way they're expected to treat each other, but it still upset him for reasons he couldn't decipher fast enough. She immediately noticed his face fall, instantly regretting her delivery. "I didn't really mean that. Thank you." She smoothed out the wrinkles after letting the shirt fall over her body.

He couldn't stay mad at her for long, especially when her regret was so apparent on her face. Duncan considered the embarrassment she faced, and figured she was trying to regain some normalcy in their relationship. "Don't worry about it. Let me take you home."

Courtney didn't object, following him through the sandy plains to his car. After finding a tank top in the trunk, he slipped it over his upper half. Duncan opened the door on the passenger side for Courtney to enter. Moments that didn't include bickering scared Courtney. it was an occurrence that gave her mind the opportunity to wonder what a prolonged version of this happenstance would result in. Her feelings floating to the surface of her deeply buried psyche.

***

He didn't mean to drive in radio silence, but Duncan was more nervous than he'd like to admit. He almost ran a red light when he noticed the newly-acquired tan the sun gave her soft, warm skin as she crossed her legs in the passenger seat. He slammed on the brakes just in time, still startling her. "Duncan! I didn't accept your offer with the expectation of dying in your car!" It wasn't the greatest question, but he was relieved she opened a window of conversation to flow between them.

"What was your expectation, then, Princess?"

"Delinquent-proof driving!"

"You know it wouldn't kill you to be...nice?"

"And ruin the amazing dynamic of our relationship? I wouldn't dare!"

"I don't want anything to be 'ruined' either. Nothing will stop me from annoying you, no matter what happens between us."

Courtney relinquished in relief. She then remembered the very moment her fear took over. Acknowledging it meant accepting the affect his words had on her. Accepting those indulgent stares and rare, shared smiles. Despite her fears, she asked. "If you don't want anything to change, why did you call me beautiful the way you did?"

Surprised by the indicative effect of his words, Duncan responded as if the answer were so obvious, still attentive to the road ahead of him. "Because you are...? Nothing's gonna change because of that. I've always thought you were. I'll stop if you want me to."

Courtney felt her heart triple in size when she boldly responded, letting herself say whatever her heart told her to. "Don't... stop?" She stammered, even changed the pace of her words as she fought off her nervousness. "I... don't want you to stop."

"Okay, beautiful." Courtney's chest radiated with warm waves as she looked out the window. She looked in the opposite direction and noticed one of his hands resting in the space between their seats. Her mind and heart wrestled back and forth between doing what truly called to her. To shut them up, she turned her attention to the road ahead. And, like some gravitational pull, her hand made it's way toward his free one. A swipe of the back of each other's hands was enough to: burn beneath the surface of their skin; Duncan immediately caught on to her intentions. He tried to stay focused on the road as they fumbled, palm to palm, and slowly interlocked their fingers with the other's one-by-one. The silence after realizing how perfectly they fit was easy, comfortable, yet deafening.

At a red light, Duncan used the hand on the steering wheel to turn the radio to any random station he saved. Neither of them knew the song, but wouldn't forget any lyric of it after this.

You can't stop us on the road to freedom

You can't stop us 'cause our eyes can see

Men with insight, men in granite

Knights in armor intent on chivalry

She's as sweet as Tupelo honey

She's an angel of the first degree

***

When he pulled up to her street and their hands pulled apart, Courtney felt hollow. Duncan's mind conjured ways to make the moment last longer. "I'll walk you to your door." Courtney didn't object once more, smiling at his reciprocated persistence.

"Okay." The path, while short and forward in leading them to the door, gave them time before the eventual goodbye they dreaded. Courtney fumbled with her keys hoping to buy more time. Fleeting, fickle, borrowed time for a moment they used to curse themselves for dreaming of. He initiated.

"So... see you on Monday?"

"Of course. Um...thanks. For everything."

"It's no problem, Courtney. Goodnight." He leaned in and Courtney's breathing wavered. Duncan gave her a quick peck on the cheek. Courtney's hand rose to her face in an attempt to calm the burning sensation he left. This would suffice for what he really wanted to do. If he was right about the impact he assumed he had, he was doing the right thing for now.

Courtney hated to see him walk further from her and toward the car. In some entranced state, her hand grabbed his wrist, pulling him in closer.

Maybe she leaned in the wrong way; she over-estimated the distance between them as their noses collided with each other's causing them to both groan in pain. Her ache quickly shifted to embarrassment as she hastily spilled out her rambled apologies. "I'm so-so sorry! Oh my God. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to-"

Her rambling ceased when Duncan pulled her in once again, his lips crashing onto hers with a yearning force. Her lips quickly overlapped his as his fingers tangled themselves in her hair, her arms linking around his neck. They parted for air but remained still with their hands attached to the other.

He'd never done something so worth it, unaware of the events to come.

#duncney #td duncan #td courtney #duncney fanfic

[empyreanwritings]

Almost Lost You

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Reader

Word Count: 2.2k

Warnings: near-death experience, mentions of blood loss, anxiety, minor angst with a happy ending

A/N: Look at me finally putting out a one-shot that isn’t mob related. Aren’t y’all proud of me? adklfjdsf this is written for @mycupoffanfiction​ ‘s writing challenge! My prompt will be bolded below - congrats on your milestone bby! you deserve all the followers in the world <3

Feedback is always welcomed and appreciated (: x

The kitchen grew silent the moment you stepped into it. Everyone's eyes were on you, and you could tell they were gauging whether or not they could run over and hug you. Bucky was the first one up and pulling you into a hug, not caring if your body was still healing. You heard Natasha scolding him from her spot at the counter, but he didn't loosen his grip until you hugged him back.

One by one, the rest of the team walked over to give you hugs or gentle pats on the back. You pretended not to notice the way Natasha choked up when she came over to you. Almost losing you was hard on everyone, but she didn't want the others to think she was going soft.

"I'm surprised they discharged you already," Steve said as he made you a plate of eggs. "Did they have any say in the matter?"

"They did," you snorted. "Helen said I'm recovering a lot quicker than she expected. I can't go on assignments just yet, but I don't have to be cooped up in the med bay either."

"What's the damage?"

Bucky was the one to ask this question. Steve threw a glare over his shoulder, and the others didn't seem so pleased with it, but you smiled. It didn't bother you to talk about what the bomb did, especially with Bucky. He, of all people, knew what it was like to be scarred for the rest of your life. His metal arm was a constant reminder of who he used to be.

"The right side of my body was burned pretty bad, so there's going to be a lot of scarring once it's fully healed. Helen wanted to put me in the cradle and recreate the tissue, but I told her no, so we're doing it the old-fashioned way."

"Why? Wouldn't anyone want to keep themselves from being permanently damaged?"

You shrugged. "I think it's a good reminder that I'm still human. My powers may make me think I'm invincible, but I'm not."

There was a faraway look in Bucky's eyes when you said this, and you gave his shoulder a small squeeze to pull him out of his thoughts. He gave you a small smile and a nod before diving back into his breakfast.

By the looks on everyone else's faces, they didn't understand why you chose to heal naturally. The whole "I want to remember I'm human" reason didn't seem like a good enough reason to be scarred for the rest of your life, but you weren't going to explain it to them. There was nothing more to explain; you made a bad call in the middle of an assignment because you didn't think anything could ever hurt you, and you got hurt. You were feeling a lot more humble lately because of it.

You looked around the room, trying to spot the one person you've been craving to see since you woke up. Steve noticed your wandering eyes and shook his head - she hadn't joined anyone for breakfast since that day. She stayed locked in her room most of the time.

You stuffed the rest of your eggs into your mouth and quickly excused yourself to find Wanda. You felt a small twinge of anger at her for shutting herself away from everyone else - away from you. She never once visited you when you woke up, and while you appreciated everyone else's love, you really only wanted her company. Every day she didn't visit, you grew just a little more upset.

Wanda's eyes grew wide when she opened her bedroom door and found you standing on the other side. She silently took in your appearance; you noticed the way her eyes lingered on the bandages wrapped tightly around your arm and torso and sighed. It looked like it pained her to see you like this.

"I'm glad to see I'm not the only one you are avoiding." You pushed your way past her and made your way to her bed. You plopped onto the side you know she normally slept on and pulled one of her pillows on your lap. She didn't move from her spot by the door, and it only made the anger inside of you bubble up more.

You gestured to the corner of her room where her desk lamp lied in pieces on the floor. "What happened over there?"

"Nothing."

"Oh, right, nothing," you hummed in annoyance. "Because that certainly looks like nothing. You don't visit me in the med bay; you shut yourself in this room and avoid the rest of the team; and your desk lamp is broken, but it's nothing! Everything is fine and dandy in Wanda's head."

She shook her head. "Don't start, please."

"Don't start what? I'm just trying to understand why the hell you've been avoiding me!" You sat up and looked Wanda straight in the eye. You wanted to understand what she was feeling, and you wanted her to feel the heartbreak you felt when your best friend didn't come to check on you. But she broke your gaze and looked down at her feet. "I can understand the others because they're, sometimes, lame but me? I needed you, and you weren't there."

She stayed silent. She refused to look up at you and face the anger you clearly felt, and you let out a small, humorless laugh. If she didn't want to talk, you wouldn't force her. But you weren't going to sit around and wait for her, either.

You slid off her bed and made your way back to the door. You stopped in front of her, gave her a moment to see if she would say anything, but when she didn't, you scoffed and left without another word.

"Y/n, wait-" She tried to reach out for you, but she stopped in fear of grabbing the wrong arm. She didn't want to hurt you or make anything worse.

"No, forget it. I have nothing else to say to you. If you want to keep avoiding me and the rest of the team, that's fine."

"Please just listen to me for one second."

"Just tell me why you're being so fucking weird recently!"

She bit her lip. Tears started to well up in her eyes, and you felt your anger instantly dissipate. Seeing her so torn up made you forget why you were mad in the first place. You hated yourself for raising your voice at her, but she didn't give you time to take back your words because she was pulling you into a hug before she could.

"I'm in love with you," she sobbed as she nuzzled her face into the crook of your neck. "I'm in love with you, and I almost lost you. Do you understand how that felt for me? To hold you in my arms and watch the light literally leave your eyes?"

You weren't sure what to say. You had no idea what that must have been like for her - it was something you never had to experience, thankfully. While you were recovering from the blast, Wanda lived with the memories of watching you fade away from her. No matter how much she begged you to stay awake, no matter how much she wished it was her instead of you, you almost died. And she couldn't help but blame herself for not getting to your dumb ass sooner. Maybe she could have convinced you to be a little more cautious.

Maybe she could have saved you before the bomb went off.

"I took so many showers that night," she confessed quietly, "But I still couldn't get the feeling of your blood off my arms. I tried to come see you - I really did - but every time I stood outside your room, I just remembered the look on your face when you-"

You shushed her, not wanting to work herself up with the memories of what happened. She melted in your embrace when you started to run your fingers through her hair.

She thought she lost your touch forever. She thought she was going to have to live with the fact she loved you and never got to tell you. You could no longer be angry with her for not visiting you because you couldn't imagine that kind of torture.

If you lost Wanda…you weren’t sure you'd be able to keep it together.

You weren't sure how long she stood in your arms, but you had no intention of making her move until she was ready. She needed the chance to enjoy having you back, and you weren't going to take that away from her. Even if your legs were starting to fall asleep from standing so straight.

At one point, Bucky and Steve were making their way towards the hallway, but you quickly shook your head and made them turn in the other direction. Wanda would be horrified if she knew the others saw her breaking down like this. They could handle not going back to their room for another hour or so.

Wanda pulled away slowly and wiped at her eyes to control some of the mascara that was running down her cheeks.

"I look like a mess, don't I?"

You shook your head. "You look beautiful as always."

"I didn't mean for all that to come out," she murmured. "You don't have to say anything back. I understand that I unloaded a lot on you."

There was a lot you wanted to say. If you could take back the stupid decisions you made, you would. You didn't think about how your actions would affect those around you, and you should have. You were aware of that now. You could spend the rest of your life making up for what you did, but no one would ever ask you to do that.

You saved a lot of citizens that day. As much as your team hated what you did, they knew what would have happened if you didn't take the risk.

Wanda waited for you to say something. You could tell by the way she rocked back and forth on her feet that she felt awkward, but she wasn't going to admit that out loud. She had done enough confessing to last a lifetime.

"Ya know, I think I've loved you since the day we met," you replied after another beat of silence.

"You did not!" She laughed and rolled her eyes playfully. "You're such a liar. You're only saying that to make me feel better."

"I'm not, I really think I did!"

"Stop, you're literally such a liar. We hated each other when we first met."

You gasped. "Did not! I didn't particularly like you because you knocked me on my ass and looked hot as hell while doing it, but I could never hate you."

She looked back down at her feet, trying to conceal the smile on her face with her hair, but it was useless. You already saw it before she even had a chance to hide, and it made a smile grow on your face as well. You thought about making a cheesy comment about how she had the most beautiful smile you'd ever seen, but she wouldn't believe you. Yet.

"There's the smile I love seeing," you teased and gave her side a gentle nudge. "Do you want to get some breakfast?"

"I'm okay. I actually haven't slept yet, and I think my energy is officially sapped from my body." You nodded, taking a step back so she can have some air. "You don't have to leave if you don't want to."

Your eyebrows raised, and your smile grew wider at her word. "Oh?"

"I mean, I just-" She huffed. "I'm just saying, I know you probably didn't sleep well in the med bay, so if you wanted to catch up on sleep, you can do it in my room."

"You don't have to ask me twice, darling."

Wanda stepped aside and let you back into the room. You took a few steps forward but stopped before you went too far. She began to question your actions, but you whirled around and pulled her back into an embrace, this time taking the chance to finally kiss her.

Your hands were on her cheeks. You felt her hesitate for the slightest moment, but she eased into it before you could step back and wonder if this was okay. The second her hands found your hips and pulled you closer, you knew she was more than okay with this moment.

It wasn't a passionate kiss; it was slow and tender. It was your way of reminding her that you were okay, and you weren't going to leave her any time soon. Comfort. Love. Need. The kiss was everything you wanted to say but couldn't find the words to truly convey how you felt, and it was more than enough for Wanda. For the first time since the accident, she felt like she could finally breathe.

"Believe me now?" You mumbled against her lips.

She hummed in amusement. "Not for a second."

"I guess I'll have to keep trying."

"I guess you'll have to."

#ellies1500 #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff x you #wanda maximoff one shot #wanda maximoff fanfiction #wanda maximoff fic #wanda maximoff #scarlet witch #scarlet witch x reader #scarlet witch x you #scarlet witch one shot #scarlet witch fanfiction

[yikesharringrove]

a recreation of the jancy scene w murray (how he analyses the shit outta them)but with harringrove 😳

“Oh no, we can’t.”

Steve covered his glass with one hand, looking at Billy.

“Yeah, I’ve gotta drive.”

“Drive? What, tonight?” Murray was looking at them with a confused grin.

“Uh, our parents-” Steve didn’t want to say my parents won’t give a fuck because they’re in the Virgin Islands, but Billy’s dad hits him when he misses curfew.

“Would be proud if they knew what you were up to.” Murray cut Steve off. “Just tell ‘em you’re at Eric’s, or Bobby’s, or whoever’s, and take my guest room.” Billy looked at Steve.

“I mean, do you want to stay?”

“It is pretty late. Will that be, okay?” Billy just gave him a half smile, turning back to Murray.

“Could I use the sofa?”

“Okay, I’m confused. What’s going on here? Lover’s quarrel?” Billy’s eyes went stony as Steve stiffened in his seat.

“We’re not together. We’re not, like that.” Billy spat the words.

And Murray just fucking laughed.

“You’ve told me a lot of shockers today, but that, that is the first lie.”

“It’s not a lie.” Steve tried to laugh it off, meet the crazy bastard where he was. If he, if he had noticed the way he looks at Billy, the way he finds stupid ways to touch him, if he tells Billy, Steve is as good as fucking dead.

“Why not? You’re young, attractive. You’ve got, chemistry, history, plus the real shit. Shared trauma.” Billy crossed his arms, sitting back in the couch. Murray turned to him. “Trust issues. And extreme rage. Am I right? Something to do with your dad. I’m guessing, abuse? Physical, verbal, mental, whole nine yards. He pushed away your mother, the one person who is supposed to love you.”

“What? No. I mean, my dad’s-”

“An asshole.” Billy glared at Steve. He just shrugged. Murray hummed.

“It is a curse to see so clearly. You,” he turned to Steve. “You’re harder to read. Probably, like everyone, afraid of what would happen if you accepted yourself for who you really are, and retreated back to the safety of-name! Name!” He snapped at Billy.

“Nancy.” Steve slapped his leg.

“Oh, Nancy. We like Nancy.” He put on this high voice, taunting Steve.

“Yes!” Steve said it like it was easy, made Billy grind his jaw. He fucking hated the Wheeler bitch. Hated that she had Steve, this beautiful, perfect person, and tossed him aside like fucking garbage.

“But we don’t love Nancy.”

“What? No. I, I mean, I-I do.” He stammered through the sentence, scrunching his eyes closed. Murray pointed at him.

“There it is, ladies and germs. The second lie of the evening. You’ve got something deep. Something that gives you a very low self image. Abandonment. Neglect, maybe. You take care of everyone in your life, because no one has ever taken care of you.” He took another sip of his drink. “Well, apart from a rotating cast of nannies and housekeepers. And here you are, clinging to Nancy for dear life because you think that’s easiest. Settle down with a boring old wife. At least then you’d never be alone.”

Steve choked on thin air. His face was red. His eyes were bright.

“So! How’d I do?” Billy was trying really fucking hard not to deck this asshole, right here, right now. Murray snorted. “My goodness. You two are adorable, aren’t you?”

He leaned forward, slamming his glass down and taking the rest of the vodka as he stood up.

“Listen, there’s a pull out sofa in my study if you want it.” He was behind them now, climbing the stairs. “But if I were you, I’d just cut the bullshit, and share the damn bed.” He left the room, leaving the two boys on the couch.

Steve was staring at the ground, pointedly not looking at Billy. Billy sighed.

“I’ll take the pull out. Goodnight, Princess.” He retreated to the study, just barely caught the little goodnight, Bill.

-

Billy swore when he finally figured out how to get the pull out to actually pull out.

He slammed it on the ground, ripping off his clothes.

He put on a pair of sweats, didn’t wanna bother with a shirt when he was so white hot, so fucking mad.

This guy had pretty much outed him to Steve. 

They had always skirted around the issues with his dad, but Billy wasn’t stupid. He knew Steve knew.

And this guy had said all that shit, had told them to fuck.

And yeah, Billy wanted to. Of course he did, just look at Steve, but he was,

He was not going to admit to being scared, but he was.

Scared of rejection, scared of getting hurt. He thinks that getting hurt by Steve would probably just crush him.

He flopped around on the mattress for a moment.

“Trust issues? Trust issues?” He was getting antsy, getting like he did when he wanted a fight, wanted to bust his knuckles open and scream.

Usually talking to Steve helped.

Plus, he guesses he needs to clear the air, go up to Steve and no homo a couple thousand times.

-

Steve was sitting on the guest bed, his mind still reeling from what had happened.

“Afraid. I’m not afraid.” He slammed back into the bed, but he couldn’t get comfortable. Couldn’t get his brain to shut up.

Is that what everyone saw when they looked at him? Could everyone see how entirely fake he is? How he brings his empty heart home to an empty house each night? How he doesn’t want to mess things up with Billy, because then he’ll leave, just like everyone else does?

He sat up sharply.

“Retreat? I don’t retreat.” He steeled his back, going to find Billy to talk, to set the record straight.

He opened the door softly, finding Billy already coming towards him in nothing but ratty sweat pants.

“Hey.”

“Hey.” Billy wasn’t really looking at him, sort of looking past him.

“I just, um. I just wanted to say that-”

“No, don’t. He’s so drunk.” Steve dug his nails into the out Billy just offered.

“Wasted.”

“I mean, he knows us for a couple of hours, and he’s got us all figured out?” Steve forced a laugh.

“Exactly. God, okay, yeah. I feel-I’m glad you feel the same way.” Billy shrugged, his shoulders staying stiff around his ears. He crossed his arms over his chest, made his biceps bulge. Steve pointedly didn’t look at them.

“Yeah. Yeah, it’s fine.” Billy’s words were clipped.

They stood for a moment, awkwardly staring at one another in the sitting room. Steve had never been good with uncomfortable situations.

“Uh, so goodnight, I guess.” Billy stared walking back towards the study.

“Yeah. Um, ‘night.” Steve watched as he practically bolted back into the study.

-

Billy tried to settle back onto the lumpy pull out.

Steve had looked so lost, so nervous, the way he always did when his mind was racing out of his control.

But he also looked beautiful, in his faded t-shirt and old, short, basketball shorts.

And Billy couldn’t resist.

What the fuck am I doing? What the fuck am I doing? What the fuck am I doing?

He was staring at the double doors, marching closer and closer.

He was there, was about to knock, and then,

One opened.

And Steve was in his space, hair messy like he’d been tuggin’ on it, eyes wide.

And Billy didn’t think, just pushed him against the other door and kissed him.

Steve pulled off, his big eyes wild as he studied Billy’s face.

Billy felt his heart sink.

And then Steve was there, was kissing the daylights outta him.

And so Billy continued not to think.

He pushed Steve into the room, closing the door behind him as he shoved him onto the bed.

-

They were sitting across from one another the next morning, trying not to make direct eye contact.

Murray made a big show of sitting down at the table, taking both of them in.

He made note of the dark hickies on Steve’s neck he was trying to hide in his hoodie, and what looked like a scratch mark on the back of Billy’s shoulder, visible in the cut up tank top he had thrown on.

He decided to strike.

“So. Billy. How was the pull out?” Billy choked on his juice. Steve dropped his fork.

Surely he couldn’t, couldn’t be asking about that. About how Billy had said wanna cum on your face and did just that.

“Uh, sorry?”

“The sofa.”

“Oh yeah. Yeah it was, it was good.” Murray smirked at him.

“I bet.” He went to take a bite, the egg flopping off his fork and landing with a plap! on the floor. “Oops.” He laughed at Billy, trying to look nonchalant.

Good for them.

#I HAD to include when he dropped the egg #that part is SO fucking funny #and the way they're both trying not to laugh #and yes #i did watch these scenes and copy them almost verbatim #steve harrington #billy hargrove #steve harrington x billy hargrove #billy hargrove x steve harrington #harringrove #harringrove fic #harringrove ficlet #harringrove drabble #minor lemons #yikes writes