#i love that i started off very strictly following the references but now hes just- MY lil guy

[doodlboy]

Mammon 2 me <3333

#he's unrecognizable as the character he came from #i love that i started off very strictly following the references but now hes just- MY lil guy #he's babygirl 2 me yk #also he deserves better hair #if he's getting shitty white anime hair that they give every poc dating sim guy then at LEAST he's getting locs #mammon #mammon obey me #obey me mammon #obey me #wip art #elliot rambles #elliot doodles #obey me gem au #om gem au

[joels-shitty-puns]

Pins and Needles - Chapter 4

Pairing: Post-Outbreak!Joel Miller x Reader

Series Summary: Joel has known you for several years, but it was always strictly business, which was easier and preferred. However, after you run into him in Jackson, avoiding him is more of a challenge than you'd like.

Series Warnings: 18+ only (MDNI). Alluding to sexual scenarios. Mention of masturbation. Kissing. Age gap, reader is 39/40 Joel is 56/57. Violence!!! This features outbreak day memories. Blood, stabbing, cannibalism, death, infected. An airplane crash. Spoilers from season 1 of TLOU HBO. Deaths from that season are mentioned. Nightmares. Angst/tension. Let me know if I missed anything!!

Other stuff: Reader is referred to by the nickname Needles, but other than that descriptors are avoided! Reader is fem.

This series was based on these two anon requests! Here and here

Series list: Here

Word count: 2k

The morning of your first assignment, you showed up at the town community center, ready to meet Tommy and get this over with. Hopefully you could escape this town as soon as possible.

It wasn't that you didn't like the idea of comfort and community. In fact, you would love to relax and maybe settle down with someone. But you also knew that was improbable in this world. It was naive to think that you could live in contentment and not be in danger of the horrors outside these gates. So you ignored that longing feeling and ran for the hills whenever it approached you, in the same way an evil witch with a poisoned apple would approach, trying to lure you with its beauty.

You opened the door to the large meeting room, a swirl of blistering cold air following you inside. The air in here was nice and warm, a large fire roaring at the front. You shivered as your body adjusted to the change.

“Needles,” said Tommy, calling your attention to him. Joel stood at his side. “We're gonna have you start on patrols. I'll run this first one with you to get you started, sort of like a shadow shift at a new job. After that, you'll likely run with Joel a couple times a week. You already have worked together, so it seems like a good option.”

You nodded once, wondering how much Joel had shared about you with his brother, not that he would really have much to share. You made sure of that.

_____

You weren't always so closed off. Before the outbreak, you were actually very sweet, and much more willing to share and be social. You had friends, a boyfriend, a loving family. But that was all gone now.

Back in 2003, you were 19 years old and you boarded a plane by yourself for the first time, on a trip to see some family out of state. The flight was relatively empty, maybe only 50 passengers or so, which you found slightly odd. But, being that you had some extra space to spread out, you weren't about to question it.

You had just fallen asleep, the aircraft rumbling through the sky and passengers around you all focused on a quiet activity. You had been so exhausted from school that you slept right through the in-flight meal of a sandwich and cookies.

You weren't sure how long you had been asleep, but you woke with a jolt, the plane hitting some turbulence. Blinking your eyes open, you noticed the cabin was still very quiet. But something felt… off. The flight attendants were nowhere to be seen, the quiet turn of pages and shuffles had dissipated, and instead, a strange sort of growling… panting… slurping… filled the cabin. It was hard to see anything among the rows of seats, but you weren't confused for much longer when a blood-curdling scream sounded out, followed by a crunch.

But oddly .. nobody else was reacting. Nobody rushed to the screaming passenger’s aid. There were no murmurs of confusion or panic.

You stood from your seat by the window, and what you saw shook your entire being. The earth had spun off its axis. The floor was covered in bodies, passed out on the floor. They looked sick. Their bodies were graying, mouths oozing some kind of… foam? No… not liquid. Plants? Pasta? Thread?? What the hell was that in their mouths?

A raspy croak quietly sounded from the middle aisle behind you. Your heart hammered in your chest, and you wondered whether teenagers could have heart attacks from fear. You almost wished you would go into cardiac arrest to avoid this nightmare. Was this a nightmare? Were you still asleep on the plane?

You turned hesitantly, a crunching noise practically echoed off the walls of the aircraft. A man stood, hunched over a woman, kissing - no… no no no… EATING her neck.

Your breathing was coming in rapidly now, yet you somehow felt like you couldn't get any air at all. All these people on the ground - they had wounds. Deep, deep wounds, and as you looked around the flight, you noticed others just like the man. Croaking and biting and dripping with blood.

You could only pray that the pilots were safe and you could land on the ground. Please let it be soon.

There were no weapons on the plane. No knives or guns or bats. No pepper spray or stun guns. No defenses. Weapons weren't really permitted before 9-11, but now you couldn't even take a toothpaste on the plane. What were you supposed to do? Throw a suitcase at them? The TSA didn't plan for whatever the fuck this situation was. Who could have!? What even is this? A cult of cannibals? Some sick disease? Rabies?

Your throat suddenly had a boulder, making it hard to swallow, and your eyes were welling up with hopeless tears. Is this how you die? Eaten alive at 30,000 feet above sea level?

A lone tear streaked your face as you struggled to find some kind of answer. A way out of here. A way to defend yourself. A way to hide. If only I could tell the pilots, you thought.

The flight attendants were dead, and there were few passengers still alive near you, looking just as horrified and fearstruck. There were no answers. You looked around the plane, trying not to think about the lives of all these people, just looking for a solution. Any solution.

And that's when you saw it.

An old lady sat near the left side of the plane, still alive, unharmed, yet frozen in terror. She still sat in her seat, eyes wide and meeting yours as she peered over the row to gauge how far away the threat was. She made a cross over her chest, praying for her life. Her eyes were wet with tears and your heart ached for her. She's lived for probably 80 years - you'd guess - only to be struck with this nightmare of a flight, straight out of a horror movie.

But what you saw in her lap is what made you pause. Her in-flight entertainment. You never understood how it was allowed on a plane when you couldn't bring your medium sized bottle of lotion, but now it was your only saving grace.

Metal knitting needles.

You met her eyes once again and pointedly looked at her lap. She gave a confused look at first before realizing what you were implying. Her eyes closed hard, a tear rolling down her face as she sucked in a deep breath. You're sure this was much more violence than she signed up for, but it was your only hope.

Keeping your eyes on the living predators behind you, you slipped over the row of seats next to you, quietly tiptoeing over the bodies on the aisle way, trying to ignore the thought that they were people just like you - going on vacation, visiting family, and now… dead.

Silently, you reached the old woman, pointing at her knitting needles and asking permission with your eyes. With a single nod, she handed them to you and you carefully removed the yarn creation, setting it back on her lap. 

You'd never had to stab anyone before and you really weren't sure if you even could. But these monsters - these humans - were going to kill you if you didn't kill them first. 

Did the pilots even know?

Tucking one of the needles into the waistband of your jeans, next to your hip, you gripped the other in your dominant hand. There were at least four of these cannibals to deal with, and you panicked at the idea of them charging you, even if you managed to sneak up on them first. What if they couldn't even be killed? That sounds like a silly thought, but they clearly aren't fully human if they're acting like this.

You ran your thumb over the rounded base of the needle, point facing outward to stab your enemy. Creeping ever so slightly down the aisles, you wiped your hand around the needle on your pants. The nerves were making you shaky and sweaty, neither of which would help you in this situation.

Reaching the first one you saw, a woman not much taller than yourself, you gripped the needle tighter, approaching from behind and swinging your arm over her shoulder to plunge the needle into her neck. Blood pooled around your hand as you removed the needle, and she collapsed, thread-like organisms sprawling from her mouth as she did. Were they some kind of mushroom?

With the gurgling of your first victim, the next nearest parasitic-host turned to face you, eyes cold and almost frightened. You wondered if the human was still in there somewhere. It screeched, climbing over the seats to charge at you. You began flailing backwards, running behind you and gripping the needle as it grew closer. With one leap, it came after you and you swung your arm up again, plunging the needle in its neck.

With a crunch, you stepped on the hand of a victim on the ground, which somehow alerted the other two creatures still eating a few rows ahead of where the first two were. They sprinted, running faster than you ever could even in your best shape, and you gripped the needle in one hand, unsheathing the other from your hip into your other. As the first lunged toward you, you sunk the needle into its chest, stopping the movement immediately. The other continued its sprint and you added the other needle to your dominant hand, the old one still plunged in the heart of the last.

With a large bound, it reached you and you stabbed once again. Now all you had to do was reach the pilots and you could get out of this nightmare. But as you removed the needles - just in case - and wiped them on the shirts of your victims, you started to hear stirring from the bitten bodies on the floor. 

What the actual hell??? You thought, quickly making way for the cockpit.

“We need to land, now,” you ordered. The pilot looked shocked, but saw the blood on your body and the knitting needle in your hand. To him and his copilot, you might look like the crazy one, but there's no way to logically explain this to them. Instead, they turned back to the controls, contacting the tower. Hopefully they were finding the nearest landing point.

Fortunately, it wasn't long before the jet was descending and you could see the buildings below growing closer. The runway was coming into sight, but the bodies in the plane were beginning to stir even more. The first sat up, others following behind it like some kind of interconnected body as you looked on with horror.

“WE’RE RUNNING OUT OF TIME!!” you shouted at the pilots.

The copilot turned enough to see behind him and his eyes widened in fear, quickly turning back to the controls and signaling to the tower that something was terribly wrong on this plane. There was some kind of attack and the police should be ready at the airport.

The creatures began to walk towards you and as frightened as you were, you knew you couldn't risk them reaching the pilots. Running to the side of the plane, you stood in wait, needles in hand.

The first one reached you and you stabbed, pulling out the needle immediately, but the second and third were following close behind. You could see the buildings below getting closer and closer as the plane reached the airport. But right before the plane was set to land, one of the cannibals began moving towards the cockpit.

“NO!” You shrieked. 

But it was too late. The pilot was unaware when the creature bit into his flesh, quickly killing one pilot after the other. The plane touched down on the runway, screeching and beginning to tilt and spin, not slowing down without the pilots to step on the brakes.

The plane tilted towards the nose, and with a crash, you slammed forward down the aisle, hitting your head and falling unconscious.

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal fanfic #pedro pascal fanfiction #a! wrote a fic #pedro pascal fic #pedro pascal x reader #joel miller #pedro pascal x afab!reader #pedro pascal x you #joel miller fanfic #joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #joel miller fic #tlou fanfiction #tlou fic #tlou fanfic #tlou

[pastanest]

if you’re wondering why I’m having to repost this, or why you were perhaps previously following me but no longer are, please refer to this post. I was able to retrieve this thanks to @iamburdened - thanks so much!! ♡

Spencer Reid x gender neutral!reader

Beautiful

Spencer is almost accustomed to the affect you have on him. From the moment he first saw you, his heart was ready to leap from his chest and into your arms, before he even knew your name. The more he got to know you, the more his mind dared to dream and hope for a future with you that he was too modest to think he deserved. Love at first sight was not something he really believed in, but that is just one of the many things you opened his heart to the second he saw you. Every single day, he will sit at his desk and wait for you to walk in, prepared to fall in love all over again. Spencer even started arriving unnecessarily early just in case you ever arrived early too, because he wanted to make sure he always got to work before you did.

Considering your hidden feelings towards Spencer, you pay just as much attention to him, so naturally, you notice that he stares. When you’re walking around or talking to someone at work, you can feel his eyes on you, and during anything press or public speaking related you are guaranteed to catch his eyes drifting to yours multiple times. It makes you blush, which Spencer rarely sees because he tends to look away the moment he knows he’s been caught admiring you, but there are a few precious memories he treasures, fractions of seconds spent seeing you blush. Easily the most mesmerising view in the world, that’s his preferred description of you.

And this thought is revived as you stroll into work and place your bag on your desk, beginning to sort through it while Spencer’s eyes are fixed on your side profile facing him.

“Why are you staring at me?” You ask suddenly, and Spencer feels his blood freeze in his veins.

Although there is a mutual knowledge of this habit of his, it had blissfully gone unaddressed until this very moment, and Spencer had been doing his best to ignore the guilt and embarrassment he felt for looking at you as much as he did. And just like that, you exposed him. But he didnt have time to think, you caught him off guard and he says the first thing that comes to his head, the most logical answer there is.

“Because you’re beautiful.”

He hears the words fall from his lips and hang in the air, swirling around you and repeating themselves in your head. He sees you halt your movements, he searches for any sign of a positive reaction, and he watches your face as a small smile finds its way there, relief flooding through him as a blush overwhelms your cheeks that are mostly hidden by your hair.

“You think Im beautiful?” You repeat his words, more so to reaffirm their meaning yourself and make sure you heard them, but also because a sudden new love had formed for the way in which he said them.

“O-Of course! The most beautiful person in existence.” Spencer cant stop himself now, he was so unprepared for this situation that he had not planned out a single one of the outcomes, and as a result of sheer panic the truth was reaching your ears. “I-Im sorry, I know our relationship is strictly professional, a-and our relationship is one between friends!” He blurts out, alarms ringing in his head at his own use of the word ‘relationship’, a fatal mistake in the midst of what was intended to be an embarrassed apology for unprofessional conversation.

Then he heard it. A giggle. And he sees a grin on your face, mostly hidden by your hair just like your cheeks. You finally turn to face him, and to capture the view of your wondrous grin and rosy cheeks that were caused by nothing more than Spencer, is something he will never forget. The same can be said for the words that, instead of reaching his ears, made a beeline straight to his heart the moment they passed your lips.

“I think you’re beautiful, too.”

#spencer reid #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x reader #x reader #fanfic #fanfiction #imagine #imagines #headcannon #criminal minds

[okthatsgreat]

new opddmh updates..... like. three of them. crazy. haven't been keeping up as well as usual (acting stuff and work tag teaming my free time and absolutely destroying it) but i have finally started to binge and i truly truly love what u r doing w makoto and miu. so different but still connecting on an in-depth level and balancing eachother out ....... sometimes a relationship is an ex-reality show killing game figurehead and the world's worst teenager fresh out of the hospital against the world. do u have any insights on the way u write relationships and connections or just them in specific that come to mind bc oh my god. please do tell

HELLO AGAIN :]!!! AND HAHAHAH THATS ALL GOOD ive been so busy also FINGERS CROSSED IM ABLE TO GET MY UPDATE SCHEDULE ON TRACK LOL

TALKING ABOUT THIS FIC!!! :] big ole ramble down below lol

(i use the word "partner" a lot here but just know i am not referring to strictly romantic relationships lol)

OHHH GOD. relationship writing advice HMM HMMMMM. it really is very complex bc there are SO many different types of relationships that can be written about ghfdgjh so advice definitely varies!!! i think something helpful that i've learned is that unless you are purposefully examining power dynamics it always helps to view both sides as fully realised characters. very very rarely do you want to have a character who is solely there to agree with their second half and have no personality or history outside of this. i see this happen a LOT with romantic pairings but it's also an important note for platonic pairings as well!! ESPECIALLY if the main focus of the story is on this specific pairing-- it shouldnt feel like one person is a human being while the other is a cardboard cutout whose only purpose is to be there for their partner. again there ARE a few exceptions to this and how it is portrayed but its the main rule i like to stick to!! :]

if i feel like ive written a character who is solely there for their partner something immediate i go to is giving both characters something that separates them!! most of the time this includes fleshing out a backstory thats different from their partner, that might influence the way they see things within the narrative. give them a different hobby, maybe a different friend group! give them a different perspective on the events that are unfolding, a different way of coping that might not be beneficial to their partner!! and remember that it is OKAY for them to not agree on everything!!!! do not be frightened into thinking you need every single relationship in your story to be perfect and unproblematic and completely agreeable, especially for longer narratives that call for conflict

OH AND IN REGARDS TO FANFICTION... piece of advice i try to follow is donttttt try to mold characters into entirely different people just so they can stay happy and agreeable with their partner lol. if theres tension theres tension!! if theyre petty then theyre petty!!!!! even if there isnt conflict and youre writing fluff, you dont have to erase their personalities just to fit them together as a happy couple! sometimes the challenge in writing comes from finding what happiness means for that specific character/pairing, and that may be very different from the typical idea of romance/happiness!!

AND NOW ON TO MAKOTO AND MIU first of all. i am so sorry for making you read paragraphs upon paragraphs of me just rambling nonsense at you GHFDKGSH BUT I APPRECIATE IT!!! and second of all this technicallllyyyy is advice i guess but its WAY more specific now!!! lol

anyways when it comes to writing their relationship most of their dynamic is based off of their differences! opddmh miu is brash and loud, and even though she is trying more and more to filter what she says she still speaks before she thinks and grows restless very easily. opddmh makoto on the other hand cant afford to be brash and loud and thinks quite a lot before he says anything, and is lot visibly calmer. so its fun examining how their differences are able to influence the other throughout the fic!!!! miu NEEDED that calming influence considering the state she was in when makoto found her, i quite frankly have no idea where the hell she would be now if makoto hadnt been so patient and understanding ghfdksghkf. makoto on the other hand is a man chained down by responsibility, so much so that his life has become extremely dull in his eyes just because of how repetitive it has started to become. miu is a serious change to this and offers him some kind of purpose while also reminding him of not only how SCARED he was as a teenager first exiting the simulator but also how unrestrained he had been before the years went by. theres a balance there!!!

but at the same time, there ARE some similarities. theyre both a bit paranoid, and even if miu is more willing to be vocal about her distaste theyre both scared of danganronpa as a company. they also both strive for some kind of peace, even if they have different versions of it-- makoto wishes to be unburdened by the weight of responsibility and his Ultimate Hope persona while miu wishes for stability in her relationships with others, even if she just isnt the best at it. its why i like writing small moments such as the two of them just sitting in the car and chatting or the most recent moment where theyre not talking at all but are still comfortable in each others company-- they dont explicitly tell the other that theyre super happy and at peace but they both subconsciously understand :)

OKAY CUTTING MYSELF OFF!!!! GFHDGFDJ THANK YOU SO SO MUCH <33

#ask lee #kozuelovemail #opddmh

[serpentinearchitect17]

Hi there 😊

It’s been a while since I’ve posted anything, but I just had an idea for a particular scene today, so I decided to write about it. I’m taking a break from anything Red, White & Royal Blue related to focus on my current love and hyperfixation: Avatar the Last Airbender. I started watching the series last fall, and I haven’t been able to turn my mind off from it since then. Unsurprisingly, I quickly became obsessed with and fascinated by Zuko and Katara’s dynamic. They’ve become my muse lately. I’m working on a Zutara fanfic as we speak, and I’ll create a post about it once I get it up on AO3.

In the meantime, I wrote this very short scene. It takes place several months after the end of the 100 Year War. Zuko has made great progress as the Fire Lord, and Katara is now an Ambassador for the Southern Water Tribe. They’re in a committed and loving relationship at this point. I used some direct quotes from the Brooklyn 99 episode, “Chasing Amy.” This was initially meant to be a quick, humorous thing, but it turned into something sweeter (I have no regrets, heh). Full disclaimer: If you know anything about the reference to the B-99 scene, you’ll understand that Jake and Amy did have a significant moment of affection on that rooftop, whether it was technically love or not. As for Zuko and Katara, I personally don’t believe they were anywhere close to feeling love or deep affection in the Crystal Catacombs, but I think it’s the first time they truly connected on an emotional level.

Anyway, without further ado…

*****

After a long day of beginning preliminary discussions with the Earth King about the newest trade agreements among the Earth Kingdom, Southern Water Tribe, and the Fire Nation, Ambassador Katara snuck off for some alone time in Ba Sing Se. She managed to convince the Earth King to let her down into the Crystal Catacombs, even though most individuals in the city have been strictly prohibited from ever entering the area again. It’s still in the process of getting repurposed for better, more humane uses. She gave him some flimsy excuse as to why she wants to venture into the cavern. Despite the deep frown he gave her, he apparently didn’t question her motives, and had a couple of guards (thankfully, not the Dai Li) follow her to ensure that she made it there safely. She didn’t need the protection, of course, but she didn’t feel like arguing. She had told the Earth King not to let anyone else know where she was; she promised him that she’d be back to her guest house later.

Now, she finds herself back in the same spot that she was imprisoned with a then-banished Fire Prince.

Just as she runs a hand over one of the crystals, she hears soft footsteps behind her and turns around to find the love of her life.

The Fire Lord is dressed in his formal regalia, but he’s taken his crown off, and his top knot is undone, leaving his shaggy fringe hanging over his bright, golden eyes.

“There you are! Thank Agni,” he sighs in relief, drawing nearer.

A look of surprise flits across her face. “Hey, how did you find me?”

He raises his eyebrow at her. “Well, the Earth King didn’t want to tell me at first, but I figured it out. If I recall correctly, a long time ago, Master Katara and the banished Crown Prince Zuko were trapped under Ba Sing Se, in the Crystal Catacombs.” He gestures to their surroundings, and his lips quirk into a tiny smile. “This is where we were the night you fell in love with me.”

Katara snorts, shaking her head. She crosses her arms and gives him a half-hearted glare. “Zuko,” she warns, with just a bit of an edge to her voice.

“All right, fine. The night that you flirted with me for 20 seconds and I became obsessed with you forever,” he amends sheepishly, his cheeks flushing.

“That’s slightly more accurate.” She steps closer to him, so that there is barely any space between them. She reaches up toward his face, tracing her fingers over his scarred cheek.

“Are you okay?” he murmurs, automatically leaning into her touch.

“Yeah,” she answers softly. “I guess I just wanted to come back to see what it was like, now that things are so different.”

He swallows nervously, though he keeps his eye contact steady. “I understand. I kind of did, too, honestly. I hope…” he pauses, looking like he was choosing his words carefully. She waits patiently for him, and in the next moment, he continues, “I hope we can associate better memories with this place. They’ll never be perfect, of course, because of all the bad things that happened here before. But, maybe when we think of it from now on, it won’t be quite so grim.”

She nods before pulling him into her arms. He hugs her back with everything he has in him, pouring all of his affection and love, and apologies and regret into the gesture.

He lets her go briefly to press a kiss to her forehead. “Do you want to head back up?” he asks quietly, cradling her to his chest with his chin resting on top of her head. “We can probably explore more parts of the city before our next meeting, if you want to.”

She glances up at him and smiles. “Not yet. Let’s just stay a little while longer.”

He agrees and holds her, while the green crystals glow around them.

Yes, she thinks to herself, we’ll have better memories from now on.

#incorrect atla #avatar the last airbender #inspired by brooklyn 99 #zutara #zuko x katara #zuko and katara #katara #zuko

[telomeke-bbs]

BAD BUDDY RERUN SEASON – EP.3 (NOTES ON THE REWATCH)

As we move forward past Week 3 of the Bad Buddy rerun season on Channel GMM25, this write-up is a listing of my observations on the third episode of BBS. (Notes on Episodes 1, 2 and 4 are linked here: Ep.1, Ep.2 and Ep.4.)

Episode 3 starts with another scene out of sequence. We see a relaxed and unblemished Wai calmly talking with Pran as though the bus-stop brawl hadn't happened yet – but it already had, at the end of the previous episode.

(above) Wai before and after the bus-stop brawl

So once again (as with the end of Ep.1) the timeline shimmers like a bit of a mirage – but this scene does make sense if we view it as more of a preamble or a mini-ep within the episode not strictly anchored to the narrative chronology, kind of like a retro TV pre-opening sequence, but flashing backward instead of forward and setting the stage with exposition for what's to come.

This longish opening scene sets up quite a number of references for callbacks in the future. (Actually the whole episode does this.) We see Pran sketching a cartoon face with fierce-looking eyes, and we know who this must be (Pat's fierce eyes are referenced in Ep.1 [1I4] 5.20, Ep.10 [1I4] 12.22 and Ep.12 [3I4] 2.57, which is also a full-circle callback to Ep.1).

Pran's sketch is BBS letting us know that this is how he processes his thoughts and feelings – he doesn't talk about them with anyone, but he sketches out representations of them (meaning that Pat is vexing and dominating his mind right now).

And if it wasn’t clear before that Pran was already in love with Pat, the scene removes all doubt by showing us that he'd already fallen way back in high school, in the flashback immediately following Wai's question at Ep.3 [1I4] 2.00: "Have you not had a secret crush on anyone before?"

We also see more of Pran's propensity for denying his true feelings when he goes "That wasn't a smile" at Ep.3 [1I4] 5.04 in response to Wai's "When you fall for someone, your heart flutters. And when you think about it, you just can’t suppress a smile" (Ep.3 [1I4] 4.51).

Pran's flashback of Pat figuratively sacrificing himself (in the form of his student card) to make a guitar pick for Pran also foreshadows the other instances when Pat selflessly steps up on behalf of others (e.g., before and during the LogTech presentation later on in this episode, especially at Ep.3 [2/4] 7.15, and also when he sticks up for Wai against the gun-wielding rugbyman played by Kim Thitisan Goodburn in Ep.9 [3I4]).

And Pat's comment at Ep.3 [1I4] 4.34: "Stop looking at it" (his photograph) will get callbacks later:

At Ep.3 [3I4] 1.27 in the LogTech lift (when Pat says "You always look at me");

In Pat's theme Secret, whose lyrics describe Pat's point of view in their coming relationship – "So what if you catch me looking at you? Isn’t it you who look(ed) at me first?" (Ep.8 [3I4] 9.38); and

When they visit their old high school in Ep.10 (where Pat says "You're confessing that you always looked at me" at Ep.10 [3I4] 1.00).

When Pran accidentally finds himself at the same table with Pat at the wonton noodle stall, he overcompensates by making a show of checking that no one they know can see them together, giving off the vibe he'd rather be alone. Remembering that Pran's in love with Pat, we can see that he's keeping his emotions hidden while signaling their opposite to the world.

Pat, on the other hand, is quite happy to share the table and even gestures for Pran to sit down (Ep.3 [1I4] 6.20). He also smiles at him (Ep.3 [1I4] 6.30 – not very obvious to the viewer, since he's facing away from the camera, but you can just make it out. And Pran returns the smile too, if somewhat half-heartedly).

Pat is in his Tim Hortons t-shirt at the noodle stall – there's a smiley-faced cookie on the front, and a giant smile on the back.

This is a little ironic, in that it's Pran who's associated with smileys all the time – but they're never on his person (except this one time – yeah so I just noticed – in Ep.4 [3I4] 6.39, that will have significance in Ep.4). They're scattered all around his life (in his sketches, draped around his wall, on his bedside lamp, taped to his door, on his mobile phone, and on his doorhanger) – half-décor, half-hidden symbols of his inner feelings. Meanwhile it's Pat who (sometimes) has them on his clothes for all the world to see (not often though – we see them referenced here at Ep.3 [1I4] 6.17, at Ep.1 [3I4] 3.40 and at Ep.12 [4/4] 1.03 too).

Pat's White Castle t-shirt in Ep.7 [1I4] 13.56 also suggests a smile without actually showing one – the words on the back are "Say Cheese!"😁

Pran surrounded by smileys while Pat having them on his clothes kind of parallels how Pran disassociates himself from his emotions while Pat wears his openly on his sleeve (or his t-shirts 😉).

Pat's t-shirts that reference smiles are also a clue to the origins of Pran's obsession with smileys all around him. One way of reading it is that the smileys remind him of his sunshine boy Pat (who, after Pran's re-appearance in his life in Episode 1 is always smiling) – I think they do, and Pat's three t-shirts do reinforce this point.

But I don't think the reason for Pran surrounding himself with smileys is his romantic feelings for Pat, or at least it didn't start out that way. This is because we are shown that Pran had many smileys on the walls of his childhood bedroom even before they became friends:

I think the smiley faces on his bedroom walls demonstrated lonely little Pran's hunger to surround himself with company (he's an only child after all). This also explains why he followed Pat and Pa to the lake on their bicycles in Ep.1 – he was probably craving playtime with them. And after some time the smiley became the symbol for his ultimate companion – Pat – as well as an outward barometer for his hidden feelings (e.g., when he switches between smiley and frowny faces on sticky notes and his doorhanger).

The noodle dish Pat and Pran seem to love so much is the Thai version of wonton noodles, known as bami mu daeng kiao (บะหมี่หมูแดงเกี๊ยว).

Similar to the versions in Malaysia and Singapore, the wontons, noodles and choy sum greens (ผักกวางตุ้ง) are served with charsiu or mu daeng (หมูแดง, red barbecued pork), unlike the original Cantonese version in Guangzhou and Hong Kong, which typically does not come with charsiu. The bami part (บะหมี่) means (meat-based) noodles, and is a cognate with Indonesian bakmi and Filipino mami (etymologically derived from Hokkien/Teochew).

The kiao part (เกี๊ยว) means wonton dumpling, and is possibly a play on words. The khanom jeep that we saw in Ep.2 figured heavily in Bad Buddy's lexical games regarding courtship, as the word jeep means both to pleat (referring to the crimping of the dumpling wrapper) and also to flirt/court (explained here and here).

As kiao wontons are a close culinary cousin of khanom jeep, I'm tempted to read a connection here too, since the wontons and the wonton noodle stall figure so prominently in BBS. Coincidentally (or perhaps not), the word kiao (เกี๊ยว) that means wonton is almost exactly the same as another word meaning to flirt/court/woo – เกี้ยว, also pronounced kiao but with a different tone (the spelling is the same, except for the diacritic designating the tone).

So we can read Pat and Pran as possibly mock-flirting with wontons here, just as Pat was actually flirting with Ink using wontons at the same stall to make Pran jealous in Ep.7.

When Pat and Pran engage in all sorts of combative antics over their noodles though (e.g., chopstick fencing, grabbing kiao from each other, offering wontons – or courtship? – directly from an open mouth), they're re-living their childhood competitiveness once again, and for both of them there are undercurrents of romantic interest (although Pat would not have realized it).

But when the battling ends, Pat goes "That's it? You're no fun" at Ep.3 [1I4] 8.26, and this shows that their jousting was all for sport (a practice they'd been engaging in since childhood). And then he returns a wonton to Pran, further confirming that the games of one-upmanship were more for the interaction, not really about winning anything (and will have significance for the events of Ep.7).

Back at their student accommodation, Pat and Pran take the opportunity to relaunch more competitive rivalry when they race up the stairs (Ep.3 [1I4] 9.55). Pran displays his contrarian communication (as seen before at Ep.2 [1I4] 9.03, Ep.3 [1I4] 5.04 and Ep.4 [4/4] 17.08) when he says "Someone like me doesn’t need to compete for anything with you" – but then he does.

Pat clearly enjoys the activity – it was he who suggested that they race, and he also hoots with laughter as they sprint up to their apartments. And Pran continues the one-upmanship when he refuses to share the black inhaler, and changes the fist bump into a middle finger flip. But once safely inside his apartment – he beams with happiness at Ep.3 [1I4] 12.49, hungrily looking out the peephole for Pat at Ep.3 [1I4] 12.35.

"You always look at me."

Pran obviously enjoys the competitive interaction as much as his neighbor across the corridor; he just doesn't show it quite as openly.

Pat also voices his inner desires for Pran that he hasn't yet learnt to identify or understand when he says: "But if you miss me, don’t knock. Just come in" (at Ep.3 [1I4] 11.54). For Pran, so much in love with Pat, the suggestiveness of this comment cannot be lost.

And Pat will continue dropping (unconscious) hints like these all the way up to Ep.5, which explains why Pran will say at Ep.5 [4/4] 8.57 "Pat, you’ve got to stop doing this to me. We are not a thing", since he would have noticed all of Pat's intimations of deeper feelings even while Pat himself was unaware of their significance.

The tin can conversation (Ep.3 [1I4] 18.13) had me confused when I watched this episode the first time around – if Pran was so pissed, why would he then pick up the tin can after steadfastly ignoring all of Pat's phone calls?

It's only after it was revealed in Ep.12 that this was how PatPran as kids would talk to each other (not having access to mobile phones or landlines), did it finally make sense. Pat can tell Pran is angry and so is giving him space (not climbing across over to his room) – instead, he uses their childhood method of communication because he figures it's a good reminder of their longtime bond that Pran will not be able to ignore. And he guessed right (because he knows Pran so well). 💖

The LogTech lift squash (Ep.3 [2/4] 5.14) is BBS's nod to the BL trope where a couple squeeze together in an elevator (whether by design or accident).

This was called out in Ep.2 [4/4] after the condo viewing, and is also cheered on by the Soon Vijarn gang in the Reaction Video for this episode (linked here: REACTION [ENG/CH SUB] แค่เพื่อนครับเพื่อน BAD BUDDY SERIES EP.3 | ศูนย์วิจารณ์ EP.16.1, timestamp 23.24). When Director Backaof's buddies call out "Cherry Magic!", it's in reference to the sweet Japanese BL that made great use of this elevator trope too. 👍

At LogTech, it first looks like Pat is forced to squeeze into Pran's personal space, and we see that Pran enjoys it (despite himself) at Ep.3 [2/4] 5.34.

Pat then turns it into a goofy prank at 6.04, but I like to think that his being lost in the moment at 5.52 wasn't intentional, that it was really him being driven by his subconscious desires into savoring every precious moment of Pran's proximity (so the answer to his question at 5.22 "Do you think I want to (squash in this much)?" really is a resounding "YES!" 😊).

When Pat says to Pran "You always look at me" at Ep.3 [3I4] 1.27 though, a lot of the spice in their exchange is missing from the subtitles.

Pat doesn't repeat the more common word for look or see (มอง, pronounced mong) that he used in his preceding sentence "You should learn to see what’s around". Instead he uses the word จ้อง (pronounced jong), which means "to gaze/stare".

We know from Ep.3 [1I4] 4.34 (PatPran and the guitar pick) and Ep.10 [3I4] 0.45 (Pran reminiscing about Pat being punished for lateness while at their high school) that Pran loves gazing at his beloved, and BBS tells us that somewhere along the way Pat noticed it too. Here in the lift we see that Pran tenses up slightly at Ep.3 [3I4] 1.30, thinking that Pat has cottoned on to the meaning of his lovelorn looks.

But then Pat switches things up. The word จ้อง (jong) has several meanings, the most basic of which is "to gaze/stare." But it can also mean "to point a weapon" or "to monitor someone or something (especially with ill intentions) for the opportunity to strike at them" – see this Wiktionary link here. (Only Bad Buddy's Indonesian subtitles point out that จ้อง/jong has a double meaning in this scene, but it's simply translated as "to see/to search" and left at that, so the subtleties are not quite conveyed.)

This double meaning is why Pat goes on to call out Pran's jibes of "dog" and "jinx" – he's saying that Pran jongs him (or watches him, en ligne de mire, like a sniper) in order to lob insults at him. Pran then deflates backward onto the rear wall, relieved that Pat (though cross) has apparently not caught on as to why he's always being stared at:

But just a beat later, as Pran says "Well, it's true", they both awkwardly look at each other at the same time, as though acknowledging (and simultaneously proving too) that they're both experiencing matching impulses to jong each other (whether to stare at the other one, or to make a go for him). 👍😍

Pat's ambiguity on jong ("to gaze at") and jong ("to have someone in the cross-hairs") is also another example of him doing the bait-and-switch with Pran regarding their interpersonal dynamics. There will be many examples (including a few in this episode alone) where Pat sets up a reference to some kind of connection or closeness between them, only to subvert it with something else (written up here). More on this later. 😉

This line from Pat in the music shop hits very differently on the rewatch: "When you get into a competition with me, you take it very seriously" (Ep.3 [3I4] 3.59) – especially when you see how Pran is lost for words as he side-eyes Pat in response:

We now know that for much of Bad Buddy, competition is a stand-in for romance – so of course it's no small thing for Pran (who's deep in his unrequited crush for Pat here).

But when Chai suddenly appears and forces them to hide, it's another opportunity for Pat to crash into Pran's personal space, that he craves so much (however unconsciously). There is also a tiny, tiny detail in this scene that reveals the care taken by Director Backaof and the BBS team while painting the backdrop of the main story – Chai and his wife are expecting a baby, and as they approach the store we see her hand on her pregnant stomach, at Ep.3 [3I4] 4.22:

Later on, we will see her heavily pregnant in the hospital at Ep.10 [1I4] 18.55, and Dissaya will also mention their young child at Ep.12 [4/4] 5.11, all subtle markers of BBS's timeline. (This probably means the events at LogTech and the music shop are taking place late in PatPran's first academic year, while Pat's recovery from his gunshot graze will be in the middle of their second year.)

Chai has actually noticed – who couldn't? 🤣 – Pat and Pran trying to hide their lanky clown selves behind that small speaker/turntable, confirmed in Ep.10 [1I4]. But his wife thinks his dogged peering into the store is just him hankering after a guitar, and her words of dissuasion ("Let’s go. We’ve talked about this" and "I know you like it. But we discussed this") suggest that they need to be budgeting for pregnancy and baby expenses instead.

Chai then confirms the coming addition to their family at Ep.3 [3I4] 4.49 – he says something like "I want to buy it for our son" as they walk away (but this is only acknowledged in the Cantonese and Korean subtitles).

The scene at the music shop ends with the first reference in BBS of Pat's own personal foible (that will be popping up many times later in the series as well, all the way to Ep.12) – his love for Pran's scent (that he mistakenly attributes here to Pran's skill at churning out fragrant-fresh laundry 🤣).

I didn't notice it before, but Pat's comment "Do the laundry for me" at Ep.3 [3I4] 5.15 gets a callback in the very next scene at Ep.3 [3I4] 5.46 when Pran (while sketching ideas for the bus-stop design) mockingly says he's doing laundry, in response to Pat's question "What are you doing?".

So when Pat turns up to inspire Pran's design of the new bus-stop though, another exchange that lands with a different emotional weight on the rewatch is the following:

Pat:   Are you as hard on your other friends as you are on me? Pran: I won’t be as hard on my friends.

Pran's reply above sounds like a sarcastic suggestion that he doesn't consider Pat a friend. He probably intended for it to sound that way too, and the hurt on Pat's face is visible at Ep.3 [3I4] 6.28.

But the truth behind Pran's words is actually predicated on the contrary. He's so hard on Pat and keeps pushing him away because he thinks of Pat as more than a friend, not less – he's doing all he can to run away from his romantic feelings. (This exchange in a sense also predicts what will happen after the Epic Rooftop Kiss at the end of Ep.5 – Pran goes the hardest he can when he physically runs away, partly because Pat has revealed his understanding that they're more than just friends when he replies "No" to the question "Do you want us to be friends?" 😢).

Back at the bus-stop though, we see Pat good-naturedly breaking down Pran's walls of hostility, and their initial testy exchange soon descends into some cheerful goofball roleplay, followed by a romp around the ruins. And then it all ends up in some heartfelt conversation side-by-side on the road.

As had happened with the tin cans, Pat is demonstrating here that he's aware his persistence and sincerity will eventually break down any barriers that Pran puts up, and he will apply this knowledge again and again with Pran, all the way up to and especially in Ep.6 (when it really mattered to the survival of their relationship).

When Pat says "They will (like it). Because I do" at Ep.3 [3I4] 12.24, the vibes he gives off are also subtly romantic – in Thai the verb chob (ชอบ, meaning to like) doesn't always need an object (see Pat's bedside confession about Ink in Ep.4 [4/4] for another example).

What Pat says here can also mean "They will. Because I like you." Director Backaof mentions in the Soon Vijarn Recap Video (linked here: RECAP [ENG/CH SUB] แค่เพื่อนครับเพื่อน BAD BUDDY SERIES EP.3 | ศูนย์วิจารณ์ EP.16.2, timestamp 23.52) that he shot the scene more than 10 times since Pat was only supposed to be having platonic feelings for Pran at this time, and Ohm's delivery was coming off more romantic than had been envisioned in the script.

But Ohm felt differently about the character, and ultimately what we see at Ep.3 [3I4] 12.25 (and elsewhere in BBS) is his portrayal of a Pat who always had some kind of butterflies for Pran (even if the gold-hearted dumbass wasn't able to identify or qualify what those feelings were before Ep.5 😂).

Thus Pran's half-hopeful, half-panicked sidelong glance at Ep.3 [3I4] 12.29 is even more weighted, since he's an expert at making and reading signs, and must have been picking up on all of Pat's unconscious signaling (which justifies his plea to Pat on the rooftop – "Pat, you’ve got to stop doing this to me" – at Ep.5 [4/4] 8.57 as well 👍).

Episode 3 ends with a scene that not only sets up future callbacks, but also goes full circle with callbacks to previous scenes, and is fully charged with meaning at almost every turn of phrase. When Pran's walls went up again after the LogTech budget cut, Pat stepped up his game and corralled his Engine gang into providing free labor to reconstruct the bus-stop, saving the day yet again for Pran.

This sparks a key shift in the paradigm for Pran, and we see it when he goes to say "Thank you" to Pat at Ep.3 [4/4] 6.54:

The line is a callback to three other instances that show Pran's reluctance to thank Pat:

Ep.1 [3I4] 2.26 – after Pat saves Pran from being beaten up by Korn, Mo and Chang;

Ep.3 [1I4] 9.15 – after Pat buys him wonton noodles;

Ep.3 [2/4] 4.29 – at the LogTech lift lobby.

In the first and third examples above, Pat actually reminds Pran to thank him (which we can possibly read as him needing Pran's validation in his life).

But in the corridor during the closing scene of Ep.3, Pran is on his own and there are no social pressures (or exhortations from Pat) motivating the voicing of his thanks here. Pran has had a change of heart, and instead of pulling away as he had been doing since Ep.2 [4/4] 3.42, he's showing himself now convinced of Pat's sincerity (because of his help with the bus-stop) and is willing to step forward and allow himself to get closer.

In doing this, Pran is actively defying one of his own long-held beliefs – that closeness with Pat will only end badly for him (see these links here and here for more explanation).

Whenever he'd tried getting close before, life found a way to smash him back down, hence his constant and conscious distancing from Pat. (The first two episodes of Bad Buddy were a demonstration of this – Ep.1 showed Pran allowing himself to be drawn closer to Pat, and Ep.2 saw him pulling away when he remembered his mantra of “Things don’t end well whenever I’m close to you”, repeated at Ep.1 [4/4] 3.28 and Ep.2 [3I4] 9.01.) Future episodes will deal with the consequences of Pran's move here in Ep.3 though, and not without drama.

Pat's question to Pran at Ep.3 [4/4] 7.02 – "Can we call it even now?" – is also callback. At Ep.1 [4/4] 9.52 and Ep.2 [4/4] 9.56 Pat references owing Pran for saving Pa at the lake, and for being the cause of Pran's high school transfer. Both times Pran rejects Pat's attempts to pay off the debt, preferring instead that they maintain their relationship that had always been based on some kind of scorekeeping (which ultimately manifests itself as a sort of rivalry, even while they're friends behind the scenes).

But here in the corridor Pran accepts that Pat's debt has been paid, at Ep.3 [4/4] 7.08. And this acceptance also means that he's ready to set aside the constant battling and rebalancing of the scorecard, take things to the next level, and replace the one-upmanship with something less fractious (if not romantic).

He confirms he's ready to abandon the rivalry, stop pushing Pat away, and move closer to him when he asks "Have you eaten?" at Ep.3 [4/4] 7.20.

It's a trope in Thai BL that food is often a stand-in for various forms of love and affection (and BBS plays with it when they flirt using dumplings and wontons, in the various mealtime scenes at the Siridechawat and Jindapat households, and elsewhere too). Pran's question/invitation here is actually loaded with meaning.

All around East and Southeast Asia "Have you eaten?" is used as an informal greeting – in Thailand, parts of Laos, Cambodia, China, Vietnam, Myanmar, Korea, the Philippines, Singapore and Malaysia too. "Have you eaten?" is not just about food, but is also an inquiry into the well-being of the person being greeted.

Pran asking "Have you eaten?" is really a demonstration of him opening up to Pat, showing concern for his (secret) beloved, and is also a request for more of his company.

Pat's response – a little taken aback at the tentative affection shown to him, from the previously prickly Pran, followed by his knowing smile and nods – shows that he fully understands the significance of Pran's gesture here. (For an exchange with similar vibes, take a look at Pat's response to Pran's gift of alcohol for Ming at Ep.12 [3I4] 13.42, where he also shows – wordlessly – his understanding of the cultural significance behind Pran's move there. Explanation linked here.)

The scene then takes a little detour when we see Pat return Pran's salvaged guitar, itself a symbol of the last part of Pran's fractured and unmended heart (his music-making ability), that is intertwined with his relationship with Dissaya, and will only see resolution in Ep.11. (For more explanation on Pran's healing in this respect, see these links here and here.)

The guitar will figure more prominently and with even more meaning in later episodes, but right now it's both an example of and metaphor for the acts of loving kindness that Pat has done (and will continue to do) for Pran. 😊 And its return also segues the narrative artfully into the next significant plot move.

We are brought to what I now believe is the crux of this whole scene (and perhaps the whole episode). When Pran says at Ep.3 [4/4] 8.36 "What a shame! We won’t get to compete in the Freshy Music Contest", we find out that Pat has actually engineered their return to the competition.

The music contest here is a metaphor for PatPran's own relationship dynamic since childhood, one based on trying to outdo each other (but motivated more by the opportunity for interaction, rather than actually winning anything).

Just moments before, we saw that Pran was willing to step away from competitive rivalry in search of a more conventional relationship with Pat (platonic or otherwise) – he's agreed that Pat has evened the score and paid off his debt (which should signal an end to their games).

But Pat now confirms that's not what he wants at all – by his own actions he tosses them right back into their familiar terrain of competing with each other (saying "We're back in the competition" at Ep.3 [4/4] 8.42).

And Pran realizes what's happening when he says: "You seem so happy when you get to compete against me" at Ep.3 [4/4] 10.19 – this is a rephrasing of and a callback to Pat's comment in the music store: "When you get into a competition with me, you take it very seriously" (Ep.3 [3I4] 3.59). This is Pran agreeing that the basis of their relationship (whether platonic, as it is now for Pat, or romantic, for both of them later) is the rambunctious rivalry that they know so well.

The exchange also basically lays the foundation for PatPran's own version of the getting-to-know-you, dating phase of their relationship in Ep.7, that will take the form of a strange competition on who confesses their love first.

The scene begins drawing to close with Pat's final retort before he retires to his apartment: "Also, I just like to see your face – when you lose" (Ep.3 [4/4] 10.27). He starts it out sweetly enough, but turns the "when you lose" part into a trashtalking punchline.

It's the final example in this episode of Pat doing the bait-and-switch with Pran (also seen at Ep.3 [3I4] 1.27 when he turns the "You always look at me" into a call-out of Pran's insults, and at Ep.3 [3I4] 12.24 when he messes with Pran's mind, however unconsciously, with his use of the word chob/ชอบ). There will be other examples in future episodes too.

This habit of Pat's – setting up an expectation, only to subvert it with something quite jarringly different – is also one of the reasons why Pran bolts after their kiss on the rooftop in Ep.5, because he'd learnt so many times that any initial proposition of Pat's, no matter how kindly or benign, should not be taken at face value as it could suddenly switch and leave him out in the cold. (More explanation linked here.)

The episode then closes with Pran retiring to his apartment – and just before he does so, he smiles wistfully at his watch, the symbol of his push-and-pull relationship with his beloved Pat, and flips his doorhanger to symbolize his happiness at finding himself back in the comforting dynamic of competition with Pat again. 💖

As dense with meaning as this last scene is, on the overall I cannot say that Episode 3 is one of my favorites. This is not because it isn't done well; if anything, Ep.3 is a victim of Bad Buddy's overall success (I think this applies to Ep.4 as well).

Part of the reason why BBS is such a satisfying piece of media to consume (queer/BL or not) is because the storytelling is so compact, tightly-woven and holistically interconnected. There is rarely anything up on screen that does not resonate with meaning (or is revealed to have deeper meaning later) because of parallels with and callbacks/connections to other lines, scenes or depictions elsewhere in the series.

It's hugely rewarding to the viewer every time one of these connections crackles into being in our consciousness, partly because it's all balanced out so masterfully. But the resolution of dramatic and other tensions in future episodes requires a great deal of setting up in earlier episodes, which is why Ep.3 has a bit of an inbetweener feel for me, given the extensive groundwork being laid.

Episodes 1 and 2 got to bristle with novelty when the storyline and characters were introduced, but Ep.3 and Ep.4 don't have that luxury. And yet they still have to shoulder a lot of the burden of seed-planting for future plot developments and story arcs. With only a couple of back episodes to lean on, the opportunities for any resolution of tension are far fewer (and it's too early to tie up loose ends anyway).

But while (or maybe because) Director Backaof and the BBS team make Episodes 3 and 4 work so hard in this respect, the payoff in later episodes is going to be mindblowingly good. 👍 Those of us doing the rewatch know this only too well. 😊💖

[Afterpost Edit: for notes on the rewatch of other episodes, see these links here: Ep.1, Ep.2, Ep.4 and Ep.5. 😊]

#bad buddy #bad buddy analysis #patpran #telomeke #bad buddy episode 3

[draculasfavoritewife]

I Still Want You

Summary: It's been awhile since the two of you last worked together, but some things will never change.

Pairing: Madmartigan x fem!Reader

Warnings: Brief references to injury and alcohol use, some sexist jokes and sensuality (look, I physically cannot stop writing about reader running their fingers through pretty men's hair, alright? It's an actual problem guys).

So my family finally made me sit down and watch the original Willow film this past summer, and I ended up pretty smitten with this man lol. What can I say, the fallen-from-grace type with a flexible moral code and piercing eyes just really does it for me I guess. 🤷🏽‍♀️ (Also young Val Kilmer in drag? Kinda hot.)

"I don't know why the hell I let you talk me into this load of bull," you groan, a hand covering your exasperated face. "Why, in the name of all that's holy, did I leave behind my honest living to follow you into this harebrained scheme?"

The man next to you throws you a wide and winning smile, blue eyes flashing in the dim light. "Cause you didn't want me to come back to you dead," he says with a knowing smugness. "You love me."

"Did I say that?"

"You didn't have to," he teases, leaning down to saucily kiss your forehead before readjusting the woman's dress that doesn't quite fully hide his very masculine form. "Now, how do I look?"

You roll your eyes and crawl to your feet in the cramped cellar where he had chosen to make his quick change. "He's going to see through you in a second."

Your companion frowns, dark brows sulky and full lips pouting like a petulant child. "Please. The old oaf's such a lusty pig he's going to see exactly what he wants to see and fall head over heels for me. Believe me, it's happened before." He hurriedly stuffs the bodice of the dress until he has quite the impressive bust, and it's suddenly all you can do not to laugh out loud at the sight of him.

"I'm not sure you can slander other men until you finally start thinking with what's above your own belt," you chide, helping him wrangle his long, sooty-black locks beneath a headscarf. As always, you're momentarily distracted by how soft his hair stays, even though you know he does the bare minimum to care for it.

"I do think pink is definitely your color though, Mads."

"Shut up," he growls half-seriously. "We all do what we have to. A man's gotta eat, you know."

You snort. "Right. Because that's the old Madmartigan I remember. Always strictly practical, and definitely not getting in over his head robbing a rich man when he could find some honest work."

"Where at? A brothel?"

You move to slap his chest, but never make contact. It feels wrong somehow, now that his enormous false bosom is in the way.

Madmartigan sees the discomfort on your face and snickers. "Not to worry, Sweets. Your beautiful wife will return to you in one piece, trust me."

He presses a fond kiss to your cheek and turns around to the cellar door, ready to make a move on his unsuspecting target.

And promptly lets out a muffled yelp as you slap his ass.

"What the hell, Sweets?! What was that for?"

You smirk and make yourself more comfortable atop a large bag of flour, to wait out the results of his loosely formed "plan". Chances are he might have to call for backup if things get sticky.

"We women have to put up with that all the time from you 'lusty pigs'. Thought you should get used to it sooner rather than later."

"Insolent fox," he mutters, and hastily leaves, as if afraid you'll smack him again.

You might have, too.

Man's got a fine ass.

"Hold still, idiot," you scold as he flinches away from the wet cloth in your hand for the seventh time. "Do you want my help with that bloody lip or not?"

"I don't know why you're so angry," he grouses. "You're not the one that got their clothes torn off and beaten up for not actually being a woman."

"Oh, stop whining. You got out of there with the gold you came for and the other guy is worse off than you. And it's my dress that got sacrificed, so I think I've every right to complain." You gesture to the shredded pink material hanging around his waist, now the only thing preserving your disheveled warrior's dignity.

He at least has the grace to look momentarily contrite. "Right. I'll get you a new one."

You're slightly concerned by the fact that he doesn't explicitly use the word "buy", but decide to let it go for now. Many of the gifts he's given you throughout the course of your years-long friendship have shady origins, but it is the thought that counts.

And honestly, you're just glad he's not hanging up in a crow cage left for dead somewhere again.

His sharp eyes soften as he finally lets you finish tending to him. "Why did you really come along with me?" he asks bluntly. "I have nothing with which to bribe you, and you have built yourself a life here. When you made the decision to quit while we were ahead and go straight, I didn't understand, but I think I understand you even less now."

Not wanting to meet that deeply piercing ice-blue gaze, you study his lips instead, transfixed as ever by their perfect, sweeping curves. He can dress in animal skins like a barbarian and be constantly covered in ash and dirt, but the refined features of the noble knight he once was are never hidden completely, try as he might.

"I asked you a question, Sweets."

"Maybe I missed you, you boor." Unsettled, you smack him with the damp cloth and abruptly turn away to stoke the fire.

"Why?" You can't tell if he's genuinely lost or fishing for a particular answer from you. "You have a little bit of land, you're a respected herbalist, and I'm sure you've had more than a few offers of courtship since I saw you last."

Is that jealousy simmering behind his careless words?

You smirk over your shoulder. "Please. Herbalist is just two degrees south of witch around here. Men fear me."

He rises to his feet and comes up behind you, his large hands settling on your upper arms and rubbing gentle lines from your shoulders down to your elbows and back again. "I've missed being ripped to shreds by that razor-sharp tongue."

"Have you." You sigh softly as you lean back against his broad chest; without the barrier of one of his leather-and-fur shirts, all you can smell is him, a warm, welcome scent you hadn't forgotten in all the time since you last parted ways. Your bodies melt into each other with old familiarity, prompting a rush of memories of huddling together for warmth during long winters on the run, posing as husband and wife for hustling heists, his arm wrapped tightly around you on horseback.

All the little things that made you fall in love with him in the first place. The intimately shared moments that had made it so hard to leave him. But you had felt like you needed to protect your heart somehow.

After all, at the time he had seemed far more content to remain unbound to anyone, even you.

"I have another question," he murmurs, his lips now only a hair's breadth from the stretch of exposed skin at your collarbone.

"And that would be...?" You stifle a shiver, his hot breath skimming your neck and sending prickles of anticipation dancing across your body in all directions.

His cheek rests against yours. "That time I tried to kiss you, do you remember that night?"

Your hands tense, unconsciously grasping fistfuls of the torn dress fabric still hanging from his belt; there's a minuscule hitch to his breath at the sudden feeling of your hands at his hips.

"Yes."

"Why did you run away from me?"

The raw uncertainty running beneath that simple question makes you turn to face him again, acutely aware of the feeling of him against you, the hard muscles of his chest pressing into the softness of yours, his hands sliding down to linger in the curve of your back. There is no judgment in his handsome face, only a twinge of long-hidden hurt and real curiosity.

You reach up, tangling your fingers in his thick dark hair, loving the way the glossy strands slide across your skin. It's gotten so long, and your hands itch to weave it into slender braids like you used to.

"I'm pretty sure you were drunk, Mads. And I...I just wasn't fully ready," you admit.

"I still want you," he tells you softly. "I never stopped wanting you, even when you left."

You smile as he bends to rest his forehead against yours. "And I would still kill for you."

"Gods, you know it drives me crazy when you talk like that." He leans in even further, eyes dancing in the glow from the firelight. "How do you feel tonight?"

Your hands trail down again to cradle his face. "I think I'm ready now. I've missed you."

So you kiss him.

You're not surprised he's such a good kisser, but maybe more than a little startled that there's a real gentleness in him, a smooth temperance to his wildly passionate expression of love. And as the sweet reality of having him alive and solid and in your arms once again after so long finally sets in, you realize what you truly want with crystal clarity.

"Take this ridiculous thing off," you breathe as your lips finally part and you tug at his tattered skirt.

"You sure?" It takes him a second to figure out what you're really asking. "Cause I don't have anything else --"

You laugh and silence him with another kiss, guiding his hands to the laces of your corset and watching his expression change from one of surprise to warmth and hunger as he swiftly helps you undress.

#x reader #female reader #willow 1988 #madmartigan x reader #madmartigan #romance #sweet #humor #my fanfiction #willow fanfic #this was in my drafts #scoundrel #idk I think he's hot #sortafluffy #friends to lovers #there needs to be more fic about him <3

[septembersghost]

it’s crazy because i always liked haylor but as time passes by and more songs come out i’m starting to realize that they were or potentially could have been soulmates because the way they write about each other is insane, i know theyre both in a relationship though and are happy (at least taylor is) but idk theyre always on my mind.. that “what if” really kills you😭

you don’t have to answer this but what songs do you think are haylor?! in terms of harry and taylor (including unrelated hs1 songs)

i just wrote you a long response to this and tumblr ate it 😭😫 but i'll try to say it again lol

they both have said they're the happiest they've ever been now, so i am willing to trust and take their word on that, and i truly want and hope that for them!

a friend of mine and i were just talking about this, and how fate isn't a strictly determined thing, that because we have agency, we have the ability to make decisions that alter outcome. no one is "meant" to be something or have specific things happen, there are different paths along the way, and things we can control, and things we can't at all. it's more like fate is lightly playing strings in the background, and you follow a melody. so because of that, there's not only "one" soulmate, but potential for love that people find. it's like that quote from the good place, "if soulmates do exist, they're not found, they're made."

taylor found and made hers with joe, and has sustained it for six years, it's the beauty of why invisible string and mastermind can both exist in tandem. they were drawn together by breathless happenstance, and then she made a plan. it's clear from what she's written that that was right for her life. he quiets the noise for her, gives her a place to be safely held, compliments her mind, loves her for who she is as a real person. we know this from what she's written (and now what they've written together). she deserves that.

that doesn't mean that you never wonder about other situations - it's human nature to ask what-if. it doesn't undermine the devotion of what you have at all. it's why she said one of the things that has kept her up at night in the past is wondering what might have been, that was a theme for the album. obviously, if she's sharing that with us, then she shares far more with her partner, what we have is a tiny little cracked window, where they have an entire life and world (and that's how it should be). doubtless they've talked all these things through, and she knows what's okay to share, what's comfortable for both of them. i've seen people act like, "omg he must be upset that she's still thinking about ____," and it's missing the point. he respects and loves her enough to know she does that through her art as a form of processing and healing, he knows it all! he understands. she wouldn't be able to be this raw and vulnerable had she not worked really hard, singularly and with him and with those close to her in her life, to get here, and that's admirable.

so, phew!, to get me thus to question...? she's looking back on that situation and realizing she never got the answers she fully needed, and she still had some things to express and get off her chest, and it turns out, there was some upset and annoyance there (my friend wrote about this too). she just had to ask the questions, and send them out - like a message in a bottle - into the universe.

this is already long so i'm putting the song list under a cut for you <3

songs!!! anything i say is conjecture and fitting little puzzle pieces together in the way i hear them and the picture they paint, full disclosure i could always be wrong.

taylor: from red, we have message in a bottle and come back, be here. there's also the question of the very first night, and i know most people have decided it's about jg and from an earlier point in time, but hear me out - i have trouble believing she'd refer to that relationship as "children running," when the crux of the whole thing was that she was trying so hard to seem grown up and capable, and was feeling adrift and confused and belittled and hurt because of their age difference and the way that caused him to treat her. "i'd pick you up" seems ill-fitting for him too, there's an innocence to it. there's also, well, the mention of the night at the hotel and the polaroid picture, and i'm not saying that means anything, but if i hear a little bit of harry in it instead, well...i know i'm wrong on this one, okay, let me pretend. this song is so sweet that scarf stealer doesn't deserve it shhhh

as i mentioned on 1989: style, out of the woods, all you had to do was stay, i wish you would, how you get the girl, this love, i know places, wonderland. she gave us context and stories for some (i love that quote about style, "we should've just called it, 'i'm not even sorry'," the grammy museum performance of ootw talking about her anxiety, the story about how he drove past her house at night wanting to go in, the green eyes, the sinking ships, the cheshire cat smile...).

i'm going to link you to another post of zoe's too

i have a couple of stray thoughts about other songs but i feel like i should keep them to myself aksfdkljghkl

from midnights, question...?, of course. i know i mentioned this somewhere else, but there's also the fact that question...? borrows a little cadence from keep driving.

harry...there are so many 1D songs that i'll probably forget, but from my memory - perfect, if i could fly, olivia, stockholm syndrome, where do broken hearts go, happily, there's debate about something great because harry wrote it with jacknife lee and gary lightbody not long after taylor wrote the last time with them, and taylor and harry wrote songs (that have never seen the light of day, it's mentioned here) together at that point.

unreleased, there's half the world away, don't let me go, hunger, already home, without you, lay down...that whole spate of demo songs that leaked back in april.

he gave just a little bit of your heart, i love you, and someday to other artists (ariana, alex & sierra, michael buble)

from HS1: meet me in the hallway, two ghosts, only angel, woman, from the dining table

unreleased from HS1: him (which, question...? directly speaks to this situation), baby honey, complicated freak

(a reviewer of fine line said golden was about taylor because of, "i know you were way too bright for me," and i don't think that was his intent, but it permanently stuck in my mind, thank u rolling stone or whoever u were)

when taylor starts with, "good girl, sad boy," it's no joke. when you listen to all those songs, it was a lot of sad boy season.

like i said, this is only glimpses of the story and guessing in putting them together, but it does give us a lot.

#haylor #anonymous #letterbox

[asherlockstudy]

Rhett and Link's deconstruction, 3 years later

This is coming a month too late, but it was sitting half-finished in my drafts, due to little time and then a bombardment with other very intriguing RandL content that distracted me.

Rhett’s deconstruction:

There have been a few things Rhett and Link had said the last months that made me assume they were very slowly returning to their religious foundations or, rather, mellowing down their atheism/ agnosticism. One of them, for example, was Link bringing up Christianity with no significant reason in the Last Meals with Josh. Other examples is that Rhett and Link refer to Christianity more naturally and easily lately, unlike shortly after their original deconstruction, a period during which they avoided religious and especially Christian topics, sometimes with a vibe of internal turmoil at the mere mention of them, especially on Link’s side. Turns out my impression was mostly true although more hesitant than I assumed. To be clear, I consider this a good thing. Yes, a good thing. They still reject steadily toxic teachings found in the gospels. However, they now seem to be making their peace with religion as a concept and are able to explore it more openly and calmly, which means their trauma is healing.

Yes, trauma. While Link's trauma has been easily discernible and not really denied by himself either, Rhett also suffered from trauma, despite his insistence that he gave up Christianity strictly because things did not add up based on science and his logic. Here's the thing: when you give up on something because you realise it's dumb or doesn't make sense, then you don't waste more brainpower on it and you certainly don't have strong feelings because of it anymore. What Rhett described was full of emotional fluctuations: first a stage of outraged atheism, then hopeful abandon, then inquisition, an effort and need to reinterpret, and again to hope. If Rhett gave up on Christianity or religion in general because he thought he wasted 35 years in a dumb and illogical fairytale, then he simply wouldn't have tried to find ways the fairytale can be reinterpreted in one hopefully better - better for Rhett - way a few years later. Because even if Rhett's new interpretation works for him in specific, that doesn't change the fact that it remains a "fairytale" of sorts, that can't be backed by science. Therefore, the whole original statement that Rhett gave up on Christianity because it can't be scientifically proven and contradicts the evolution etc falls apart, and with a bang. This shows Rhett is driven by emotion, hope and his own private circumstances.

It was the first time that Rhett admitted that his alienation from his religion was in parts determined by his own circumstances as a person.

Another way to tell that Rhett too was personally traumatized was the level of abstract vocabulary he uses in this podcast. He used so many long and hard words, and such complicated sentences that I, as a non-native English speaker, had trouble following him in certain parts. He acknowledged at some point that he was speaking in code and vagaries and he needed Link's encouragement and support in a few occasions to speak more clearly and reveal more. So, this shows his emotional investment and turmoil, which does not align with strictly scientific inquiries or simply being an ally to other people. Rhett at some point realised that the religion he was practicing was harmful to himself or to someone he loves a great deal, i.e a family member or a very close friend. Or all that together.

The most interesting part in this EB was when Rhett narrated a recent event he could not explain by logic. Initially, he did not intend to speak about it but it was Link who urged him to, and his encouragement sort of visibly helped the words start rolling off Rhett's tongue. Still, Rhett was being vague enough that I couldn't exactly understand what happened so I will just write down their dialogue and what I understood.

Link: I think you can tell, I mean, just like the general principle of, like uhhh... you know, having someone getting a sense of us, like it was a new friend we made, who was like, a very gifted musician, and was able to translate...uhm... Rhett: He can translate- L: - their experience of a person or us into music improvisationally. R: Yeah. L: And it was... it was extremely moving. R: Very, and also like very specific in shocking ways to the individuals who were present, given the type, like, some of the music he played. L: Right. R: But also there was a moment in which, like, an album cover that had been created a few years ago for a moment that he had planned for in a specific month, while we were all looking at a specific thing. And then he played the music and then showed us the album cover, and it was too much for me to handle. (*barely holds it together*) As Rick Ruben says in another chapter; "There become these things that you, that randomness doesn't provide an adequate explanation for these things, and you eventually sort of acquiesce".

The way Rhett speaks about this incident is as if there were more people experiencing it but Link’s way of phrasing it suggests it was just the three of them or the shocking part was mostly about the two of them. I have trouble understanding Rhett’s borderline incoherent explaining here but I assume the music this musician improvised for him or for both him and Link resembled very much some music that has special significance to Rhett or them both. Furthermore, Rhett talks about a mysterious album cover the musician had created at some point a few years ago and what I understood is that the image in the cover reminded Rhett strongly of something that happened to him or both him and Link around the time the musician was making this cover and Rhett couldn’t handle the coincidence. Anyway, that’s my best shot at it.

What I found a little odd was Rhett’s intent to pursue spirituality as an element of creativity. As in, a concept that the creativity itself is the manifestation of the spirit world / magic / spirituality in general in our mundane world. I will not repeat Rhett’s admission that all this sounds like “new age shit” (sike I just did hehe) but I couldn’t really get to the bottom of his reasoning. It was a little helpful though when in the end they made the seemingly out of place addition that they are now trying to accept the way fans view them (??? they don’t explain what the way is???) and they try to embrace it, by leaving the control and the worries to the employees, while they will just experience what they are receiving in the show. Now, all this together seems pretty disconnected with the themes of spirituality and creativity they were discussing but I have a theory, which might also be some wishful thinking, no objection. I believe what they say is that they come to grips with what their real strength is; the dynamics of their relationship. Instead of getting annoyed at the fans for being so much more interested in this, they choose to accept that there might be some very solid reason behind this. Perhaps they slowly start realising that they are being their most creative when they are their real selves and when they are being candid with each other. Maybe they also realise that instead of being antagonistic towards how their bond translates in their job, they should appreciate it as much as people apparently do. They will let go of worries or image making and experience in the moment, be recipient to all signs between each other and from the viewers, and this will be the road to creative success after all. It is a little wild but I also don’t reject the possibility that Rhett, in his fervour to find meaning and in his determination to receive all the signs of something superior and collective, he starts believing or hoping that their is something fateful about his rare bond with Link. And you know, maybe this ideal spiritual guidance he is in seek of views this bond in a type of positive light that Rhett couldn’t find in Christianity.

Link's deconstruction:

Link's episode starts a little differently, with Link still riding a high from the previous days. He can barely hold his excitement about whatever was so good these days. Sorry for putting this into words, but the way he was exlaiming that his day was so full of great moments "and right now, and right now, and right now, and right now" made this sound like a physical type of happiness. I am not saying this is what happened but it definitely seemed so. Rhett is torn between Link's infectious enthusiasm and a vague discomfort, but he points out that there were apparently multiple happy moments.

To make an already long story short, Link explains he is at the end of his deconstruction. No more turmoil, judgement, concern or analysis. He intends to live his life simply and fully, with love as his guide. And the simple philosophy “if it is good or beautiful or true, do it”.

He decides to live his life inspired by his beloved pets, how they live in simplicity and authenticity. He says he sees himself in Jade. He is inspired by her ability to give and receive love. Interestingly, Jasper inspires him with his "infectious enthusiasm and curiosity" while he also jokes Jasper likes to pee on things a lot, a type of joke in which of course Rhett sneaks in. From Sakka the cat, or however it is spelled, he is inspired to take the sense of finding your center, of being yourself and setting healthy boundaries to relationships. Link brings up both Christy and Rhett in this case.

Link is so tender, passionate and intense in his expression of adoration for his dogs that you can see Rhett being both amused but also half-melt on the spot.

Link then sort of reinforces what Rhett had been saying in his own episode, not way more coherently either though. He too connects a sense of spirituality in what they do and explains how they only recently started realising how their work has been healing to people. He decribes how they always strived for something ambitious without realising they had always been telling a story simply through who they were, how they evolved and what they chose to do. Here's an interesting part from Link's speech:

Link: So I think when I look at our work, I've just been able to see it with fresh eyes and it was just kind of coincidental that it happened. It wasn't planned. I just feel very fortunate that it happened. And I don't believe that it's just a - well, it is a reflection of who we are but it's more than that. Is there something else going on here? Is there something else at work? We didn't do it on purpose. Maybe so. I am open to that, you know? I kind of lean towards that being the conclusion, that there's something else at work here. You know, I hope it doesn't sound like I'm building us up as something awesome. Again, I think this is really just a conversation for me and you. If people, anybody listening-

Rhett: (half-joking, half serious) So we shouldn't release this?

Link: Well, they can do whatever they want with it. So I am hoping that people don't think of it as "Oh my God, these guys think they are saviours". I just feel that when you find that you're... - me being me and not being what I am not is a sweet spot. Only I can be me and I can let go of the things that aren't me. Some of which are you, by the way, so it's a great partnership.

I would say, they don't think they are saviours, but they do think that whatever it is that has happened with or to them (and about which they do not talk about, otherwise this podcast wouldn't need 17 academic decoders on average each time) is special and rare, and a story that perhaps should be told.

"I need to dance like nobody's watching. I need to feel the rain on my skin", Link says. Rhett shifts with a low sound, a litte affected by this.

Then something beautiful Rhett says: "I hear what you are saying and then the way that I work, me being myself is hearing the things that you are saying and synthesizing it and creating a way of expressing it, and thinking about it. That's how I sort of latch onto things and carry them forward for me personally. " That's kinda to show the tremendous impact Link has in Rhett's brain and expression as well, because many people tend to think the impact is one-sided. It is not. If you watch Rhett and Link since their beginnings and the stuff they did prior to 2012, it is unbelievable how much they have changed and grown as people, together. And it is clear Rhett's change was responsive to Link's change. I think what Rhett also explains here also explains the process behind some of their biggest projects like TLCOBC or Hazel. Rhett listens to Link and then tries to express it through art.

Much like everything they say in these two episodes, Rhett says something very vague that however gets a very enthusiastic reaction from Link. Rhett says how he's a person who wants to "understand", analyze, explain, exhaust and defend every new experience he is having but he sees how perhaps the right way forward is to just leave things unfold naturally without "editing" or "processing" them too much. Link agrees animatedly to this very vague statement, like he understood the full underlying point. However, even without being sure what this was about, I have a feeling Rhett soon retracted on this impulsive decision of the moment.

Link wraps this up by stressing again that this might be the happiest phase of his life. He's not willing to elaborate on this at all but he says it again and again. Rhett is not inquisitive at all and apparently he knows what Link is talking about. But he doesn't ask or comment on it, except to say he's happy to be here for it. Rhett does not make equivalent statements, though perhaps it would be a tad suspicious if he did. In any case, we can't know what 's the phase Rhett's been going through.

#rhett and link #randl #r&l #link neal #rhett mclaughlin #ear biscuits #spiritual deconstruction #analysis #mythical

[t-o-m-hollands]

Summery: You and Tom bet on who will touch the other first after he comes home from filming. Both refusing to give in you resort to some teasing measures to get the other one to break.

Pairing; Tom + female reader.

Themes: Light-hearted, lots of teasing. Established relationship. Fluff. Cocky Tom. Cocky reader too, let’s face it. They are both stubborn idiots. Lots of horniness all around. To be honest, very little plot and mostly smut. Bit of fluff as well though. 

Warnings: Unprotected sex in established relationship. Masturbation. This work is strictly +18.

A/N: Not beta-read, I’m wine drunk and wrote this in like 2,5 hours so it is what it is. 

It was such a stupid fucking bet and he wish he never agreed to it. It is all your fault, he decides, as he watches you bend over into downward dog, your breathing rhythmic and even as you stretch your beautiful body. He tries to look away from your ass, honestly he does, but you’re wearing those light grey yoga pants that practically has him drooling and the fabric is hugging your body so perfectly it would be a crime to look away. 

Plus, he’s pretty sure that’s the whole point of you doing this, practicing yoga in the living room right in front of him as he’s supposed to be working. The whole point is to have him staring, so he doesn’t feel too bad about it. 

It had all started the week before he was set to return from filming. He had teased you (and sure, in retrospect that was a terrible idea and he should have known better) had said that you would jump him the first chance you got, that he probably wouldn’t even get through the door before you had him out of his jeans. You had retaliated with an accusation that he would be the one all over you and obviously he had to deny that.

It had spiraled, neither one of you willing to give in and admit defeat and now here you are; a full day after his return and he hasn’t as much as hugged you. 

Because whoever touches the other first loses the bet. 

And now here you are, in front of him; wearing skin tight yoga pants and bending over. 

A part of him, the midsection of his body to be precise, wants to just give in; to hand you the victory - fuck his pride. But the part of him, the rational part he likes to think, that has him bashing up golf clubs every time his dad beats him in a golf round; refuses to give in.

So what if he hasn’t seen you, hasn’t felt your body in over three months? Or that he now has your magnificent ass right in his face as he’s trying to concentrate on his dull emails. So what? He’s not faced by that, he’s a man of the world after all. 

You lean forwards again until you’re on the ground, turn to your back and start to slowly but steadily push your hips up and down, in what Tom can only assume, is referred to as the ghost fucking position. 

“Aren’t you supposed to answer emails?” You ask and he doesn’t even need to look at your face to know that you have a smug smile on your face.

“I am” he mutters, looking away from your body on the floor and back to his phone screen. 

You laugh, and he pretends not to hear it, while you pretend that the visible hard-on he’s sporting doesn't make you want to climb into his lap and give in to both of your temptations. 

The bet was stupid and totally his idea.

Tom comes out of the shower, drops of water still pouring from his wet hair onto his sculpted chest. The only thing he’s wearing is the white towel wrapped around his waist and the silver Rolex on his wrist. Seeing you standing in the kitchen and slicing tomatoes he sends you his widest smile. 

And you thought you were playing unfair with the yoga. 

He sits down by the bartop, all bare chested and golden. “Anything I can help with?” he asks as you place the tomatoes in the salad bowl. “A change of music perhaps?”

You throw a left over piece of tomato at him and it hits him square in the chest. He just smiles wider, completely unfaced. “Leave my dinner playlist alone, yeah?” You tell him, resisting the urge to give him the finger. 

“So tense” he snickers and leans his head to the side, “I know what could help you relax.”

“Throwing more tomatoes at you? Because we need them in the salad, Thomas.”

He stands up and moves around the kitchen island until he’s behind you, careful as not to touch, framing you against the bench with his strong arms on either side of your body. You can smell him, fresh out of the shower, feel the warm radiate from his body; it is as he’s already holding you. He’s so close, it’s like every cell in your body is reaching out for him. 

And it’s been so long. 

Three months of twisting and turning alone in bed, of only your own hands as company and him on the phone screen as he encourages you; tells you how goddamn gorgeous you look fucking yourself for him. Three months of only seeing him on the phone; not being able to touch him and feel him for yourself, to taste his skin. To just see him spill all over his own hand instead of being there, catching it all with your tongue. 

But it will have to wait a little while longer, because although you might love him, and the way he makes you feel, there’s no way you’re giving in just yet. 

Slowly turning around, carefully as not to touch him, you reach for the bottle. “You can open this, since you wanted to help” you say and hand him the wine, “that would help me relax.”

He smiles, unbothered by his failed attempt at luring you to defeat, and steps back. You stir the pasta sauce, trying not to look at his bare chest as he’s leaning over the kitchen counter, looking for something. Finally he finds the corkscrew and sits back again at the bar table. He gets to work with opening the bottle, his strong veined hand wrapped around the throat of the bottle, as the other inserts the screw. His brow is furrowed in concentration and he’s biting his lip. Around his wrist the Rolex watch reflects in the light. Uncorking the bottle he pours blood red liquid into two wine glasses and hands you one before taking a sip from his own, brown eyes looking at you from over the rim of his glass. 

“Put a fucking shirt on, Thomas” you mutter, going back to chopping vegetables.

The song and dance of torturing each other continues for the following two days. What goes on between you can only be described as a red-hot war. 

“Oh for fuck sake!” Tom’s voice booms over the living room. 

“Too direct?” You ask, eyebrow raised.

“No, no not at all” he answers, voice dripping with sarcasm, “no please, keep deep-throating the banana, it’s incredibly subtle.”

Slowly he wakes, blinking into the dark night. The alarm clock on his bedside table tells him that it’s just after 2 am and for a few long seconds he stares at it.

A rustling of sheets beside him in bed and it hits him. He’s home, home in his own bed with you laying next to him, as it should always be. Except that things aren’t the way it should be. 

Because of that stupid goddamn bet. 

The sheets rustle again and he wonders if you are awake as well. But then he hears it; a soft moan. 

Turning over in bed at lighting speed he stares down at you. “Are you fucking touching yourself?” He asks, heatedly. 

Your answer is another soft moan as you look up at him, pupils blown wide and lips parted. Tearing of the duvet he looks down at your naked body, at you hand, covered in slick, moving over your clit.

Fuck. 

He moves over, leans over you; his legs on either side of yours and his arm on each side of your face, carefully making sure that he isn’t touching you. A slight catch of breath is all the sign you give of having been surprised, your hand keeping it’s gentle pace. 

“What are you thinking about?” He asks, voice low in the quiet room. 

“You” is your breathless reply, “you touching me.”

“Think this is how I would touch you?” He asks, snickering. He’s holding his body over you, looking into your lust-filled eyes. “I’d go much slower at first, tease you. Slowly move around your clit until your hips are bucking up and you're begging me for more”.

He moves his head, so that his lips are almost touching yours. Almost. 

“You’re so good at begging after all” he murmurs against your lips, moving his boxer clad hips so that they almost touch you and you groan, your face telling of vexation and volatile bliss. But you do as he says, follow his instruction with the movement of your hand. 

“Good girl” he whispers softly against your lips. 

“Then I’d slide one fingers inside that wet cunt, still slow; still teasing.” 

You whine, but you do as he says. Slowly you move one finger in and out of yourself, as the other hand is still circling your clit. “Need more” you moan but he just smiles.

“Such a greedy little thing, aren’t you?” He teases with a devilish grin, tilting his head to the side, looking down at you with sparkling eyes. “But your hands are smaller than mine, so maybe you should add another finger.” 

You insert your middle finger as well; and moan. “Faster” you beg, but he shakes his head and so a string of curses fall out your mouth and all he can do is smile at it. 

“That filthy fucking mouth of yours” me mutters. 

“Well if you shove your dick into it instead then this stupid fucking bet will be over and we’ll both get off.”

“You know, I’ve really missed your fantastic sense of humor while I’ve been away” he answers dryly, but with a smile. 

“Tom” you whine. “I need more.”

He wants to kiss you so badly, to press his lips against yours and taste you; to remove his boxers and sink into you in one swift movement until your hoarse and wanton whines turn into satisfied moans, soft and sweet like honey. 

“Go on then, darling” he says, voice huskier than usual in the dark night. “Speed up for me.”

You do, your body hungry for satisfaction, hunting your orgasm with determent, sharp movements. 

“Fuck,” he swears, “fuck you’re soaked.” He looks down at your wet slit, your rapidly moving fingers, your hips bucking up to meet your hand. Looking back into your wild eyes he groans, his mouth still dangerously close to yours.

“The whole room smells of you” he moans, and it’s true. The scent of your arousal mixes with the scent of your perfumed skin and this is the closest he’s been so far to falter; to give in to temptation.

Your head is thrown back against the pillows, throat exposed, soft moans escaping freely. He wants to touch you everywhere, feel the softness of your skin with his rough hands, his wet mouth, his teeth. He’s breathing hard and he hasn’t even been touched, but he feels the want of touching you in his bones.

He wants to wrap his lips around your hardened nipples. To suck, bite, lick and kiss them until you fall over the edge. 

“So fucking beautiful” he breathes out. Even if he had wanted to he wouldn't have been able to look away from you. “But it’s my hand your fucking, remember? Think I’d wouldn’t fuck you harder than that?”

And god, he wish it was his hand you were fucking, wish he could feel you come; hot and wet and pulsing around his fingers. Instead he is left to watch. Watch as the movements of your hand speeds up until fucking yourself with a carnal kind of need, until you fall apart at the seams; luscious bliss spreading over your features, and your tense body relaxes until you soften against the mattress;  loose limbed and starry eyed. 

And he is left to take care of the his erection all on his own.

A thin layer of sweat is covering his chest and his muscles are taut as he forces his arms to carry his weight into another push-up. 

“Thirty-six” he groans out, his voice strained and deep from the physical effort, curls of brown hair falling over his face as he lowers himself to the ground again. “Thirty-seven.”

You couldn’t look away even if you tried, your eyes fixed on the muscles of his back, and the way they move as he moves. 

You feel agitated and frantic and in that moment you want nothing more than to lay down beneath him; look up at him as move above you with swift, powerful moments. It’s beyond reason, the carnal tug inside you as you watch him and it is absolutely maddening that he hasn’t given in yet to his desire; because you know he desires you, have seen it in his dark eyes, always following you around the room, over the last few days. 

But you are not going to be the first one to give in. 

“Forty-two” he moans out, and the sound of his heavy breathing and deep groans vibrate somewhere far inside you.

You’re not. 

You just need a change of tactic, that’s all.

The pub is packed tonight, but the more secluded pool area section is scarce of people. Tom sips on his beer, scrolling through instagram; waiting for you, as the speakers blast out ‘Galway Girl’ for what feels like the hundredth time since he came in. He’s been visiting a friend while you’ve been at work, having decided this morning to meet up at the pub after for a meal and a game of pool. 

A text pops up on the screen, beside your picture. It simply says ‘Look up’. 

He does. And fuck. 

Oh, fuck no. 

Oh, for all that is holy, surely you wouldn’t be that cruel to him.

Not the white shorts.

Not the white shorts you had worn last summer, the ones you know very well turns him on like nothing else. The ones you had worn that time when you had driven down to the beach on bonfire night; the time when you pulled him aside from the rest of the company and he had ended up fucking you against the birch wood tree just some meters away from all your friends, your shorts around your ankles and your nails digging into his back as you tried to bite back you moans.

Surely you wouldn’t be this cruel to him, because he’s pretty sure he’s going to die. He hasn’t had sex in over three months and you show up looking like this  and he’s pretty sure he’s going to die. 

He’s just not sure about whether this is going to be heaven

or hell. 

He watches you as you walk through the pub with long confident strides, the goddamn heels you're wearing extending your legs, and the fabric of the white tank top stretching over your chest. Your lips are painted blood red, as if you are ready for battle.

He’s not the only one in the pub staring at you but you keep your eyes fixed on him, burning into his eyes, as you move across the floor. 

“Honey” you greet him. “Got one of those for me as well?” You nod to the beer in his hand, frozen mid movement to his mouth. 

“Why?” He asks, trying to regain the upper hand. “Feeling thirsty?”

You laugh dryly, looking down at his crotch, where he’s painfully aware a bulge is showing. Instead of commenting on it he hands you the other beer bottle he ordered and watches as you wrap your red lips around the opening, swallowing down. He feels warm all over in the stuffy pub and he pulls at the collar of his t-shirt. 

He reaches for the cue sticks and hands you one. “Alright, darling” he sighs, knowing very well what kind of teasing hell you are about to put him through tonight, “let’s play.”

The playlist has gone from Ed Sheeran songs to Mumford & Sons and the pub is still packed with people, though the pool area remains empty apart from you and Tom. It's warm in there and Tom takes big gulps from his third beer of the night. He can feel sweat forming on his back, his brow, his chest. 

You’re not helping the situation. Although he’s pretty certain that helping is opposite of what you’re trying to do. 

“You’re so fucking annoying” he whines, as he watches you hit the white ball perfectly, resulting in two of your striped balls ending up in the pockets. He’s leaned back against the wall, arms crossed over his chest and mouth in a thin line.

He fucking hates losing. 

“You know what you should do?” You ask, lining up against the table, arched back as you bend over with your cue stick; giving him a full view of your fucking fantastic thighs, “try to fuck it out of me.” You hit another perfect shot and a third ball goes in. You look over your shoulder at him, still bent over the table, and wink.

Standing up straight you turn to him. Swaying your hips to the music you lift the beer bottle to your red lips and you swallow a mouthful. Placing the bottle next to you on the side of the pool table you walk over to him, standing so close you’re almost touching. 

Almost

In fact, you might as well be, for he can smell your perfume, mixing with the scent of your shampoo. Can feel the heat radiate of your warm body. It’s been so long since he’s held you and his entire body is painfully aware of it. 

With your lips just centimeters from his you whisper; voice husky and low, “I know how bad you want me, honey.” You move your face so that you’re almost kissing the stubble on his cheek, mouth nearly pressed against it. 

“You want my hands” you whisper again, looking up at him, your hand hovering right over his erection, carefully as not to touch it, and he nearly bucks out to meet your hand. He’s glad that the area is more secluded, part of the wall hiding the pair of you from view. It feels like there’s just the two of you in the entire world; might as well be for all he cares right now. A blush colours his cheeks as he stares back at you.

 “You want my mouth” you breathe against him, your lips curled into an evil smile. “You want my tongue” and you lick your lips before biting it, eyes sparkling with mischief. 

“You wish I was on my hands and knees right now, so you could fuck my mouth.” you finish. 

His skin feels tight and overheated, but he keeps his tone casual as he replies, “actually I wish you were bent over the table so spank that arse of yours, but sure, I wouldn’t say no to a blowie.”

“What’s stopping you? You think you can hold on forever? You know I’m not going to give in, Tom. You know me. Can you imagine going to sleep tonight? Untouched? Again?” 

There’s no use he thinks as he plunges in for a kiss, pulling you tight against him; eager to touch as much as you as possible with impatient hands. 

He tried to beat the devil at her own game and he lost.

“Think you lost, honey” you say between kisses as he’s pressing you up against the front door. 

“Don’t give a flying fuck love, just keep touching me and I’ll die a happy man.” His voice is breathless and hoarse and his hands are all over you; as if he can’t get enough. Your hand is in his soft hair, holding on, as the other is cupping the bulge in his trousers, stroking him through the fabric as he whimpers in your ear. 

“We should probably get inside,” you whisper. “Unless you want your neighbors to witness me give you a hand job on the front steps.” 

He groans, but steps away from you. His hair is ruffled and his pupils are blown wide, spit from your previous kissing covering his lower lip. You imagine you look just as disheveled. 

“Think you need to learn a lesson in delayed gratification” you tease, not being able to stop yourself. 

His eyes go even darker and he takes a step forward again, cups your chin and looks you straight in the eye in a way that has bolts of excitement shoot up your spine. “Before the night is over” he says in a slow, gruff voice, “I will teach you all there is to know about delayed gratification.”

He digs in his pockets, pulls out his keys and unlocks the front door, guiding you in with a hand on your lower back. 

He feels as if someone has lit a match under his skin. His whole body is screaming with vehement urgency for yours. His hands can’t get enough of you; his lips never want to leave your soft lips again. Your soft little noises are filling his head and he hardly even registers your hands unzipping his jeans; until you’re pulling them, alongside his boxers, off of him in a sharp tugging notion. 

“Filthy girl, I fucking love you” he moans out between kisses as you wrap your soft hand around his hard cock. 

He pulls at your tank top and for a moment your skin separates entirely from his as you step away, so that he can remove the fabric from you. Yanking at the goddamn jeans shorts he pulls them down around your ankles and you step out of them.  Your underwear soon follows suit along with his t-shirt until you both are free of any inconvenient clothing. 

He needs your warm and soft skin pressed against his, needs your soft little moans in his ear as he fucks into you, needs the taste of your sweet skin on his tongue. 

He lifts you up on the bed and soon follows suit. Reaching down he slips a finger between your legs, feels how wet and warm and slick you are and groans loudly against your shoulder. 

Lining up against you, cock in hand he looks at your lust filled eyes. “Next time I’ll go slow, yeah? I’ll take my time.”

Your answer is your hands on his shoulder, pulling him against you and he slips inside you with an ecstatic moan. You moan as well, wrap your legs around his hips. He starts moving, thrusting in and out of you with greedy dragged out jabs. The wet sound of skin slapping against skin fills the room and mixes with your whimpering mewls. 

You are so hot and tight and wet around him and the pleasure is so intense it’s bordering on painful. His face is so close to yours, it is as if you are sharing breaths. 

He wants to punch himself from denying himself this for several days when he already had to go without for months.

“Did you think your hands could stand in for mine while I was away? That it could measure up at all?” He asks you, voice thick with lust. He’s so full of want for you and you’re all soft noise and wandering hands. Your warm breath on his even warmer skin. His lips on your nipples; kissing, sucking, biting. 

You writhe beneath him, unable to lay still as you buck your hips up to meet his; fucking into him. He’s not going to last long but neither is you and holding on is a losing battle. Like he said, next time he will go slower, gentler, softer. Drag it out for an entire night. But you both have too much built up pressure inside you to last now. He feels like a bomb about to go off, sparks of pleasure shooting up his spine, as he fucks into you with even greater force. You’re hot and swollen and hugging onto him so perfectly he feels like he’s going to lose his mind if he doesn’t get to come soon. 

But he knows that you are close. Feels it in your nails, dragging along his back, in the sharp movements of your thrusts, in your laboured breathing against his shoulder. He feels it in the way your cunt squeezes around him.

“I’m coming” you whimper and he wants to cry from the relief as he feels you spasm around him.

“Fuck” you moan out as your breathing calms down, and he’s holding you pressed against his chest. “Haven’t had a decent orgasm in months, I wasn’t prepared for that.”

“You really can’t function without me, can you?” he says with a smug smile and honestly, hadn’t you’ve been so blissed out you probably would have bitten him. 

A/N: I honestly don’t know if any of this made sense. I’m drunk and tired and I’m going to bed. If you read it, please leave your thoughts. 

#tom holland #tom holland fanfiction #tom holland smut #tom holland x you #tom holland x reader

[snow-in-the-desert]

Dramione Recommendations

Ok so, 2020 has been A LOT but on a personal note one of the most surprising things to happen was me discovering Dramione fanfiction and becoming unashamedly obsessed with it. I really didn’t see that coming but I’m here now and I’m here to stay. 

I think I started reading in the Dramione fandom around mid July last year?? (In all honesty I’ve lost any true sense of time’s progression at this point so I could be well off the mark with that) And I’ve decided to compile a list of all my favourite fics I’ve read so far. Why? I really just want to gush over all the amazing writers I have found through this fandom because y’all deserve it. 

Side note: If any of the authors actually sees this post just dm so I can buy you coffee or post you writing supplies or something idk I feel like that’s the least I can do for all your amazing work x

Remain Nameless by @heyjude19-writing

Ok I have to start with RN because this fic is pretty much the sole reason I decided to create an account with A03 or a tumblr or just decided to get involved with this fandom at all. 

I headcannon this story hard. But I think even if you aren’t a fan of Dramione you should just read this because it is so unbelievably good and well written and poignant and Draco’s sarcastic personality in this is truly a thing of beauty in this - I relate to his inner monologue’s on a deep personal level. 

I could rave about this story any time, any day of the week, just ask me. In fact, maybe I’ll just start a HeyJude19 fan club to fulfill that urge.

There are so many elements that I love but for the sake of brevity, RN is a beautifully told story of Draco and Hermione finding love and healing in a post-war HP setting. Heyjude19 had the very special ability of making me want to simulatenously laugh, cry and swoon with the power of her words. Just stop what you are doing and go read it now if you havent already, ok?  

I also really enjoyed reading Bells on a Hill, Beers, Potions and Unwise Notions and A Shift in Focus, if you are looking for smaller fics, definitely give these a go. They are all funny and heartfelt stoires that will make your tippy toes wriggle with glee. 

The Rights and Wrongs Series by @lovesbitca8

The Right Thing To Do, All The Wrong Things and The Auction are the holy trinity of Dramione writing. I have christened it thus, so mote it be. And frankly I’m not interested in any other opinion than that one, thank you very much!

After reading this series I don’t think I’ll be able to look back on the orginal HP books without thinking of Hermione’s and Draco’s memories of their time at Hogwarts in these fics as anything other than strictly cannon. 

So many things to love about this series but I think one of the major highlights was Hermione and Draco’s use of occlumency. LoveBitca8 created such beautiful visuals with how occlumency works as a magical practice and seeing Draco and Hermione so devoted to eachother to the point of safeguarding their inner most feelings to protect eachother was unbelievably romantic and poetic. 

Also the smut is divine ;)

Manacled by @senlinyu​

My heart will never be the same after reading this story. Like I actually can’t think about this fic without getting a lump at the back of my throat. I have never felt so emotionally ruined after reading anything, compared to the likes of this fic. Just please, please read it. To badly quote HP, reading Manacled will make you suffer but you’re going to be happy about it.

The flashbacks are a rollercoaster in of themselves but the way Hermione inadvertently refers to them when she is still in a state of memory loss was so heartbreaking to read. My heart still aches for them both. Also its a truly satisfying to see Draco and Hermione written in a way were they are both so fiercly protective of one another. They make my insides go soft. 

I also really enjoyed Snow Fall, Now Is A Gift and All You Want by the author but to be honest anything written by Senlinyu is always thoroughly enjoyable and worth a look. 

The Erised Effect by @adaprix​

Ada is QUEEN of dramione smut but ‘The Erised Effect’ is top tier. Its equal parts funny, romantic, sentimental and oh so sexy. Ada really knows how to build and build on sexual tension and doesn’t disappoint on the final delivery. I’m a big admirer of her writing style and just veraciously read whatever she posts but ‘The Erised Effect’ is just golden. A must read. (Also Pansy’s sexual fantasy in this story is a visual I don’t think I’ll ever be able to remove from my brain so thanks for that Ada)

Also quick side note: Adaprix’ stories were the first I read when I was looking into this fandom and it was enough to get me hooked on the pairing from the get go so I have that to thank Ada for too. I remember devouring all the stories she had posted to A03 and when I was done I was like... now what am I supposed to do with my life?? And that’s basically when I began to look deeper into the fandom and thus the course of my life in 2020 changed for the better. 

Some other stories I love by her are Break for Me, All My Sins, The Big 4-0, The Fucklust Series and The Flat in Bath. 

Clean by @olivieblake​

This 6th Year AU where Draco and Hermione work together on a class assignment and end up falling in love had me feeling all kinds of ways when I read it. I almost don’t know where to start but I think one of the stand out things for me was how immersed I felt in reading it. 

Hogwarts is captured really well, you get a good sense of class atmospheres, character nuances and behind the scenes of events that happen in HBP but from a Draco and Hermione’s perspectives. It’s well executed and intricate tapestry of a fic. With an excellent plot twist ending! 

Also Hermione and Draco’s relationship in this is equal parts fluffy and smutty and it just ticks all the right boxes that you want to see for those characters ;)

Breath Mints / Battle Scars by @onyx-and-elm​

The angst in this one is just *chef’s kiss*

God I love this fic. The way Draco is portrayed is very true to his defensive and tetchy character in the original books but he is also given so much more depth. The way his diary entries are written are just so well executed. It’s a true testament to the author’s creative writing skill. And I LOVE how even though Draco is clearly in such a messed up place, he still has a basic level of self respect and dignity that he won’t tolerate being used or undervalued in his relationship with Hermione. 

Yep, I really love Draco’s characterisation in this one if you can’t tell.  But Hermione is also well written too. Her stuggles and trauma of returning to Hogwarts after war is described in a believable and grounded way. And my heart definitely ached for them both. I just wanted to wrap the pair of them in a big fuzzy blanket and tell them that everything will be alright. 

WANDS OUT! by @persephonestone​

This murder mystery / Dramione / Theo x Harry / AU crossover is everything I didn’t know I wanted until I read it. I felt like I was picked up and plonked right into an alternative dimension where all the characters of HP are just living it up in an Agatha Christie novel. 

It’s a funny and clever story that I found refreshing to read amongst all the other fanfics that are usually cemented in the HP timeline or universe. Theodore Nott in this fic is perfection he should be written like this in every fic from now on in my opinion. I couldn’t stop giggling any time he had a scene in the story.

And the ‘only one bed’ trope in this fic is 10/10. I don’t want to give spoilers but ohmygod. It hits all the right notes. 

The One With Technical Difficulties by cassielassie 

Cassielassie has an excellent three part series of Dramone called ‘The One with...” but I have to give special credit to this story in particular for one main reason. ELEVATOR TROPES. I can’t get enough of em. I think I have my early childhood viewings of NCIS to thank for my obsession with elevator tropes they just do something to me that simply cannot be explained with mere words. The palpable sexual tension of being in a broken down elevator with an ‘enemies to lovers’ pairing, a heated arguement breaks out followed by a discovery of mutual feelings and a romantic embrace...

Eugh. It gets me everytime. And this fic is no exception. I loved it for all the reasons I’ve already stated above but also for the attention to detail in Draco and Hermione’s careers makes this one particularly immersive. The dynamics between them established in this one-shot are convincingly portrayed and the chemistry between them is so undeniably hot. 

The Light is No Mystery by @masterofinfinities​

Yooo if you want to read a dramione fic that is a deep dive into Pureblood culture and Post-War recovery but is also a perfect allegory for discrimination and today’s political landscape of moral grandstanding for votes then look no further than this one. 

This story has a bit of everything. Intrigue, mystery, ptsd and recovery, enemies to lovers / secret relationship, government conspiracy and humour, to name a few. I eargerly await every update to this story and am anxious to know how it ends!

The Eagle’s Nest by HeartOfAspen 

Finally! A fic that gives me the Ravenclaw representation I crave. I think I could recommend this fic on the lore depicted of Ravenclaw house alone. ‘The Stacks’ and Rowena Ravenclaw’s own ‘come and go room’ are just such cool details that I could see being real in the HP universe. 

This fic is so cosy and makes me feel like I’m just popping back into Hogwarts for another year. You get to see all the usuals like prof. Mcgongall, Nearly headless Nick, PEEVES, Hagrid, as well as learn more about minor characters from the other school houses. The story follows Hermione going to her day to day classes and there are interesting concepts about magic and alchemy that are explored. 

Draco and Hermione’s relationship in this one is of course very fluffy and heartfelt. But it’s the attention to detail that really makes this fic outstanding and the experience of reading it feels fleshed out and true to HP universe.

A shorter fic by HeartofAspen that I recommend is one called Set in Stone, it has an adventurous, Indianna Jones vibe to it, that I am so down for. 

Teachable Moments by @purplesugarquills

In this fic Hermione is an innocent little virgin determined to learn everything about sex. And Draco Malfoy is her tutor. If that isn’t enough to get you on board then I don’t know what is. Both Heartfelt and Steamy. PurpleSugarQuills writes smut so well but it’s the progression of their growing attachment and the nervous treading of new uncharted waters of romantic relationships for both of them that just adds a whole other level of feels to the story. Also chapter 9 is like reading poetry - its so good. Eugh just give it a read if you haven’t already.

Les Pèlerins by @pacific-rimbaud

This story is high art. It’s transcendent. Reading this story feels like the emotional equivalent of standing around a hundred glowing fairy lights, sipping hot cocoa and being wrapped in the loving embrace of a s/o. I can’t speak my praises highly enough or even become passably coherent in my words when I try to articulate a review. 

From the very first paragraph I felt like I was just whisked away on a Parisian holiday and I’ve never even bloody been to Paris but damn it if this story didn’t make me feel like I was there. The writing style is just so tactile and intense it’s like I could feel the cold winter air brush against me as I read it. Eugh I just completely fell in love with the story and the writer. 

New Year’s resolution. Read everything PacificRimbaud has ever posted online. 

#This post is the online equivalent of me thrusting a pile of books into your hands and poking at you until you every single one #A behaviour I may or may not already be prone to #dramione #fanfiction #fanfic recommendations #I think I may have missed a few but I think I'll try to make a habit of gushing over new writers as I find them #Doing this just satisfies a deep inner urge in me to just compliment the everloving shit out of writers #who made my life a little more bearable with their words

[azucanela]

HI CAN I REQUEST?!? How would Keigo, Bakugou and Shinsou react to their s/o wearing a really low cut shirt, one that shows a lot of cleavage and they don’t seem to have any idea what they’re doing- like they aren’t trying to get they’re attention they just happen to be wearing it. And they like bend down next to them to tell them something.(i feel like this can be partially serious nsfw and partially major crack. 😂) thank you.

REACTING TO S/O WEARING A LOW CUT SHIRT HEADCANNONS + SCENARIOS

[FT. BAKUGOU KATSUKI, KEIGO TAKAMI, SHINSOU HITOSHI]

SUMMARY: Y/N honestly didn’t think her shirt was anything special until...

WORD COUNT: 2.2k

WARNINGS: mildly suggestive content, innuendos, kissing, 

A/N: THIS REMINDS ME OF THE TIK TOK AUDIO THING SKLHDJKAH I CAN’T EXPLAIN IT 

BAKUGOU KATSUKI

HEADCANNONS

will not admit it but he is appreciating everything he can see

katuski doesn’t seem like the type to drink respect women juice but he does, he drinks too much, thats why he DESTROYED uraraka in the sports festival, katsuki thinks everyone should get destroyed equally

if anyone at any point decides to point out that he is staring, katsuki is gonna commit death and will not look at you for the rest of the day, like he is avoiding you and your gaze no matter what

katsuki is definitely going to be watching everyone else, and one wrong move means he’s gonna blast them to bits sjahjkahdjk, like oh hey mineta? you spent to long even glancing in my s/o’s direction so TIME TO DIE EXTRA

if you guys are out in public and other guys are looking at you then the PDA shoots through the ROOF, Katsuki has his hands all over you and you don’t mind this is abnormal behavior um??

definitely glaring at anyone who looks your way, especially since you aren’t noticing all the attention your lovely outfit is garnering

will compliment you but is shy about it

“you look... nice.”

“thanks katsuki.”

intense blushing from him but he WILL deny it

if you bend down in front of him and give him a CLOSE UP he is going to die on the inside, externally he is going to seem mostly composed, there’ll be a lil blush on his cheeks and he’s gonna try to avert his eyes very quick peak 

very quick

would never admit it happened but you’ll know because he’s gonna try and drag you away somewhere more private because it is unfair how flustered you are making him what the hell

then y’all,,,

ahsbdhjhksjdhakjs

you should wear that shirt more often tho like 👀

SCENARIO

Most of the time when Katsuki said he hated Y/N, he didn’t really mean it. In reality, she was one of few people he tolerated, and part of an even smaller group of people that he respected in their school. Also, he may or may not have been in love with her and dating her. 

Not that he would admit that, yet.

Watching Y/N enter the room, in a low cut top, revealing far too much, Katsuki realized he hated this woman. His eyes following her figure as she made her way into the common room kitchen, Katsuki could practically feel Kirishima smirk, “what’cha looking at Bakubro?”

“Shut up.” He grumbled in response, tearing his eyes away from Y/N, who had begun to speak with that dumb Deku. Katsuki couldn’t help the jealousy that flooded his veins at the sight, he shifted in his seat uncomfortably as he attempted to keep his attention focused on the show Kirishima had selected.

In the corner of his eye, Katsuki could see that stupid Grape heading in Y/N’s direction. “Hey! Grape.” He called out, voice low. Mineta froze at his words, eyes widening in fear as he slowly turned to meet Katsuki’s piercing glare. “What did I tell you?”

It was common knowledge at this point, messing with Y/N L/N meant messing with Bakugou Katsuki, and only an idiot would do that. Katsuki had made it especially clear to Mineta that you— along with all the other girls in their class, though he’d never admit it— were strictly off limits, unless Mineta wanted to die a long and painful death at his hands.

Y/N seemed blissfully unaware of the fact that Katuski despises the lovely top she dons as she makes her way over to his spot on the couch, and the eyes on you that don’t belong to him. It seemed you hadn’t just caught his attention today. “Hey, Katsuki.” He’s about to say something in reply when Y/N rests her hands on his knees, leaning down to continue. “I was thinking we could go out today,” Y/N keeps talking, about the possible areas to visit, but Katsuki isn’t listening at this point. 

Her upper body is dangerously visible and close to him, and Katsuki is doing his best to avoid staring but Y/N seems to be making that very difficult as she speaks. He’s forced to resort in looking away from her entirely, only to see Kirishima’s smug grin as he snickers alongside Mina.

This is why Katsuki grabs one of Y/N’s hands off his knee as he practically shoots up from his spot on the couch, “yeah. Let’s go now.”

Her brows furrow, but upon seeing the reddening face of Bakugou Katsuki, and Y/N agrees despite her own confusion, “sure, you have somewhere in mind?”

“Yeah, I have something in mind.”

Somewhere was his room, something was Y/N pressed up against the door. Her arms had wrapped around his neck, and she broke away from the kiss he’d initiated to speak, “what’s up with you?” There’s a grin on her face as his own begins to flush once more.

“Your stupid shirt.”

“What did my shirt do?”

“EVERYTHING.”

KEIGO TAKAMI | PRO HERO HAWKS

HEADCANNONS

blatantly checking you out, he has ZERO SHAME, keigo wants you to know that he finds you VERY ATTRACTIVE 

“you look so good today babe. i love the outfit.”

always been very big on PDA though his agency and publicist do not approve, during dates he’s less touchy than he wants to be but seeing you in that top he is now 100% with PDA

if anyone hits on you or anything i feel like he’s the type to be a lil possessive because bird instincts, and he will have no shame just making out with you and feeling you up right there in front of anybody who flirts with you, much to everyone’s dismay

if someone points out his blatant stares he gonna be proud of it and be like yeah im looking

there is no blushing, there is no being flustered, yes he is going to be a little caught off guard that you are wearing that type of shirt, but aside from that he is going to enjoy it while it lasts

very much appreciates this opportunity like the perv he is

will wanna find somewhere provide just to have a little bit of fun, because he’s,,, hawks. you can’t tell me he isn’t gonna wanna make out with you or 👀 👀 👀

def most likely to have this happen with, purely because he knows it could be embarrassing for you if he just started making out with you in public, because at this point, keigo does not care

keigo simps and he has ZERO shame, definitely the most perverted, you cannot change my mind

SCENARIO

For once in his career, Keigo had managed to earn a day off, and he didn’t know anyone better to spend it with than his lovely girlfriend, Y/N L/N. Of course, he never expected her to arrive to their little hangout in such a wonderful outfit.

Keigo could not deny that he was appreciating everything. His eyes were wandering over her upper body, brow raised as she approached him, waving. “Hey, Takami!” She greeted, beaming at him.

“Hey, babe.” Comes his response, bringing a hand to her hip to pull her closer, Keigo brought his other hand to her cheek and pressed a kiss to her lips. “You look nice today.” He mumbled when they pulled apart, his eyes trailing over her figure once more, Keigo’s hand remained at her side as he pulled her through the streets. 

“You’re very touchy today.” Y/N pointed out, though she brought her hand over his nonetheless, leaning into his touch as they made their way through the crowd. 

He could feel the stares on the both of them, and he wasn’t necessarily sure if that was because two Pro Heroes were casually walking through the street, or if Y/N’s outfit was bringing in more attention than she’d expected. Regardless, Keigo didn’t like it. “What can I say, I wanna touch my amazingly attractive girlfriend.”

Y/N swats at his chest playfully as he brings her to an empty table in the food court, eyes scanning the area for something that sold chicken nuggets, that he happened to love. Though Y/N made fun of him for it frequently, referring to him as a cannibal, much to his dismay.

“Well, your amazingly attractive girlfriend,” Y/N pushed him down into the seat at the table, hands remaining on his shoulders as she spoke to him, and effectively giving Keigo quite the... view. “Is going to go get some chicken nuggets, do you want a drink?” 

Wow, she’s perfect.

Keigo finds himself nodding absently, distracted by the sight before him as he forces his eyes to return to her face, which dawns a confused look, “yes please, babe.” He sits back in his seat, offering her a smirk. 

“You’re so weird.”

“And you are so perfect.”

“Shut up.”

SHINSOU HITOSHI

HEADCANNONS

a respectful boy

does not look if he can avoid it, and if he does look, he is looking respectfully because shinsou drinks respect women juice

definitely the MOST flustered and cannot hide it because wow you look so good and you are his s/o, and oh-

“how do i look toshi?”

“uh,,, good. yeah you look really pretty today- not that you don’t look pretty everyday its just-”

not very big on PDA, does basic stuff like hand holding and will on occasion, kiss you, that’s probably not gonna change

if he gets jealous of all the people checking you out, he’s not gonna say anything, he’s just gonna hope you don’t dump him to go hang out with one them akshdkjashdjksa

gets insecure because this is a reminder of how amazing his lovely s/o is and wow you are just really hot and why are you dating him again? he doesn’t know, he’s gonna need a reminder

if anyone points out the fact that he’s staring at you he might cry kajshdjkahsdkj he’s definitely gonna be embarrassed and start blushing IMMENSELY it’ll be hilarious ngl

not the type to be possessive or jealous or anything

if you two somehow end up somewhere private then he probably will wanna make out with you but he’ll ask politely if he can kiss you and then things will escalate from there

overall a very respectful boy and will not look unless its an accident or explicitly given permission because he is also a very awkward boy please help him

you literally break shinsou with this outfit like he is flabbergasted shocked and simping for YOU

SCENARIO

When Shinsou heard the knock on his door, he already knew who it was. He and his lovely girlfriend, Y/N L/N had agreed to go out together today, and she was meeting him at his dorm. 

“Come in.” He called out, leaning down to tie his shoes. 

Shinsou heard the door open, and a smile found its way onto his face as Y/N greeted him, “hi Hitoshi!” Moving up to look at her from his seat on his bed, Shinsou is greeted by a shirt he has never seen before.

Oh no.

His cheeks flush as he averts his eyes, “hey kitten.” Shinsou clears his throat, straightening in his seat on the bed, “you ready to go.” 

Y/N is grinning at him as she brings her hands to his shoulders and presses a kiss to his cheek, “definitely.” This position was not helping him focus on the task at hand.

Shinsou nods slowly, blinking a few times as he focuses his gaze on her face, earning him a raised brow, “right, let’s go.” He moves to sit up, just for Y/N to press him back down onto the bed by his shoulders.

“What’s up with you?”

He falters, mouth opening and closing for a moment as he struggles to find an excuse, “you look really nice today.” Is what he manages to come up with, though the look on Y/N’s face only brings more panic as he continues, “not that you don’t look nice everyday it’s just that uh-” Shinsou makes an odd hand gesture, contemplating ramming his head into the wall as he finally makes eye contact with his very amused girlfriend. 

“What makes you say that, baby?” She asks, tilting her head at him as her hands remain firmly planted on his shoulders.

Shinsou finds it hard not to cover his face with his hands as he replies, “your shirt.”

Y/N’s brows furrow, looking down at her shirt as though she’d forgotten what she’d worn that day, only for her face to morph into one of realization as her mouth forms an ‘o’ shape. This soon becomes laughter as she looks to Shinsou, “I never expected that from you Hitoshi.”

“I-I’m sorry?!”

Y/N is laughing even more at his words, a small smile on her face as she brings her hands to his face to bring him into a kiss. Shinsou melts into this kiss, hands coming to her waist. 

“I honestly can’t believe you actually-”

“I’m going to leave if you don’t shut up.”

“Sure you will.” 

A/N: why was writing this so hard AND I MADE A GRILLED CHEESE FOR THE FIRST TIME I FEEL SO SUCCESSFUL

TAGLISTS[lmk if you wanna be added or removed via ask or reply]

BNHA: @shawkneecaps

#shinsou x reader #shinsou hitoshi x reader #hitoshi x reader #hitoshi shinsou x reader #hitoshi shinso x reader #shinso x reader #shinso hitoshi x reader #bakugo x reader #bakugou x reader #bakugo katsuki x reader #bakugou katsuki x reader #katsuki x reader #katsuki bakugou x reader #katsuki bakugo x reader #keigo x reader #takami x reader #takami keigo x reader #keigo takami x reader #hawks x reader #bnha x reader #bnha headcannons

[literaila]

hi!! can i request reader & loki watching a movie together? idk, maybe mean girls- and with popcorn, snacks, sour candy! they end up cuddling as well :) established relationship, thank you!!!!!!

alluring lullaby

loki x gn!reader

a/n: thank you for the request love, forgive me as I myself should be in bed right now. i hope you enjoy.

all it took was a smile really.

no— it only ever took a smile.

one quick smile, teeth and all, a kiss on the cheek and a few words of convincing, and loki was practically bent at your fingertips.

not that he minded— you definitely didn’t —in the first place. a smile from you was worth all the pain you might’ve forced upon him. even if it was a highly popular midguardian movie and a night spent on the couch.

(not that he minded that either.)

but still, putting up a bit of resistance every time you pleaded with him was only in his nature. and possibly he liked to watch for the secretive smile that you thought he couldn’t see.

tonight, against his will, you’d chosen something you referred to as “mean girls” while he watched the microwave spin the bag of popcorn round and round.

“it’s not as good as watching the kernels pop but,” you’d sighed earlier, handing him a box he had no idea what to do with. “it’ll have to do.”

loki had raised an eyebrow at that, not completely understanding what you were saying, but then you smiled at him again and any hesitation he might’ve had was gone. he was unconsciously smiling back.

despite the efforts he put into seeming inconvenienced by these nights when you and him were sealed off from the rest of the world, he couldn’t deny that they were some of his favorites. that watching you smile at the tv and lean into him when he whispered something in your ear was infuriatingly enchanting and he never wished for it to stop. truth be told, most nights like these, he hated to go to bed. to return to normal life after being so completely content with you.

so, with the popcorn popped (a thrilling endeavor if he’d ever seen one) candy laid out on the coffee table in front of you both and the movie in the player, the both of you sat down with the lights dimmed.

it was already dark outside, and you’d convinced loki that this wouldn’t be a proper experience with the lights on.

“what is this movie about?” loki asked as you played with the remote, flipping through the previews. he watched the colors fly by with wide eyes.

you smiled a bit wider and nodded over to him “oh the usual. life-sucking demons. dragons. arsonists with hearts of gold. fun things, you know”

he hummed at that, leaning back against the couch. it took him a moment to process what you’d said.

“…is it really?”

a laugh as you put the remote down and sat next to him, your shoulders not quite touching. you already had a hold on the popcorn, offering him the bowl to share. “no not really,” you teased. “it’s about something worse…”

loki only rolled his eyes, grabbing a handful of popcorn, not giving into your attempt at anticipation.

“my brother?” he deadpanned, not quite joking, not quite serious.

you laughed louder at that, turning your attention to the screen, which was now playing the opening credits.

“teenage girls”

and with that, loki copied you and started to watch, taking the bowl in his own hands without noticing.

it was minutes later, far enough into the movie to where loki could finally understand what you’d meant— he was almost impressed with how many lies these characters told — when you felt Loki's lips on your ear, tickling the sensitive skin of your neck only slightly.

“why are you so far away?” he asked, slipping and arm down to your thigh and rubbing the skin gently, asking permission almost.

you giggled, maybe at the screen, maybe at him. and leaned in closer.

not that either of you would admit it but these interruptions were the best part of these nights. talking during movies was strictly forbidden, but neither of you could ever seem to follow the rules.

he took your movement as the unspoken words he’d been waiting for, pulling an arm around the back of your neck so that he could get a better grip on you, he slid you almost completely into his lap. his head rested on yours and you couldn’t help but sigh into his chest.

he whispered a quiet “darling,” against your head, ticking your scalp and holding you a bit tighter. it sent goosebumps down your skin.

somehow, the hard sharpness of his body was far more comfortable than the couch had been.

with that, you continued to watch the movie, enjoying the new way you could feel him laughing against you. the vibrations he couldn’t hide from you even if he tried. you were almost sure that he was enjoying this movie.

the two of you continued to eat popcorn, which loki had moved to his hip so that both of you could reach without disturbing the position. you snacked on candy and relaxed against the hard softness of his stomach and chest, listening to his heartbeat almost as much as you listened to the movie.

and halfway through, despite your best efforts, you fell asleep to his comforting rhythm.

loki didn’t notice for a while, figuring you were full of popcorn and distracted by the movie. he whispered little things in your ear still, not realizing that you couldn’t hear any of them.

it was only when he noticed himself laughing at something and you limp against him that he finally looked down at your face.

the movie was almost over now, the children in the movie at some event they called “prom” which loki would remind himself to ask you about later.

even asleep though, loki found himself distracted as he watched the light from the tv flicker against your face. you were void of emotion, of tension, but the slight pout of your lips and the sure set to your eyelids was alluring. you weren’t smiling now, but he knew that you could ask him for anything. everything, if you desired.

he let the rest of the movie play on, only half paying attention now, not wanting to disturb you when you looked so beautiful.

but when the screen finally faded to black, and loki felt his own eyelids starting to weigh far more than they should, he knew that he needed to get you to bed and get everything cleaned up.

he picked you up gently. smiling down softly at you. the journey to your bedroom was small, and he was grateful that you didn’t seem to stir as he laid you down, covering you with a throw blanket you kept on the bed.

he loved movie nights because of this most of all. because you always fell asleep, no matter how early or how late in the day it was. it didn’t matter what movie you were watching, or how the two of you were cuddling. your eyes fluttered closed, and loki had the very rare chance of watching you, completely at peace in his arms.

it was something he treasured like no other, something he wouldn’t give up for even the greatest of riches.

he washed the popcorn bowl, put candy in the pantry so you could finish it later. he removed the movie from the tricky technological device it was in and returned it to its case.

he put everything back to perfection, wanting to save you the effort for when you woke up.

and when he was finished, he returned to your room, wanting a few more minutes of your cuddling, of your sweet face and lovely scent. he just wanted a few minutes more.

but there you were, laying in bed, eyes barely open, waiting for him to return.

“you’re awake,” he whispered softly, climbing under the covers and moving closer to you.

you hummed as a reply, grabbing onto his shirt and placing your head in the crook of his neck. his heartbeat was the most lovely lullaby.

“i didn’t mean to wake you,” loki stroked the top of your head, staring down at you as you closed your eyes once again.

“you didn’t,” was all you answered, holding onto him tighter and kissing his clothed chest. “did you enjoy the movie?”

it was a soft mutter against him, barely audible, but loki just chuckled and sighed against you. he kissed the top of your head, closing his eyes finally.

“i enjoyed you,”

they were sweet words against your skin, against the air that was cool between the two of you. his hands were pulling you further down, a sleep aid you were very familiar with.

you fell asleep for the second time that night with a smile. not needing to convince him of anything.

you were all it really took.

#loki oneshot #loki layfeyson imagine #loki fic #loki x you #loki x reader fluff #loki fanfic #loki imagine #loki x reader #marvel fanfic #marvel #mcu imagine #the avengers #request #fanfiction

[syllvane]

muscle memory pt. 3- sylvie x reader

a/n: i said i was going to post tomorrow but i couldn’t help myself. anyways, spoilers for episode 2 and 3 of loki, minor spoilers for the beginning of episode 3. final word count is 1.7k words!

read the previous part  read the next part   read the series  

“How is Loki doing?” You asked Mobius, walking with him to the mess hall.

“He’s doing great. Making real progress, I would say.”

“Didn’t you have to have a meeting with Renslayer this morning because of his actions?” You asked, raising your eyebrows. His face scrunched up for a second.

“It’s like every time he is making progress, he takes two steps back.”

“That sounds more believable. You still think he’s worth all the trouble though?”

Mobius sighed slightly. “I really do believe in him. It’s not just an issue of whether I believe in him though, it’s whether Ravonna and the Timekeepers do.”

“Oh, you’re on first name basis now, with Renslayer?” You turned and grinned at Mobius, who immediately flushed after realizing his mistake.

“Not a word of this to anyone.” He said strictly, although there was a smile on his face as well.

“Yeah, yeah.” You said, standing in line with Mobius as he ordered his lunch before sitting down at a two-seat table. “Ravonna and Mobius-”

“C-7.” Mobius said strictly, although you could tell he was partly amused by your antics.

You continued in the same quiet, sing-songy voice as before.

“-on a jet ski. K-I-S-S-I-N-G.”

Mobius finished taking a sip of his drink and then applauded quietly, so as to not draw attention.

“Has anyone ever told you that you truly have all the originality of a grade-schooler?”

Before you could answer, you were interrupted by a tall man with long dark hair speed walking over to where Mobius and you were sitting.

Although he seemed to be in a hurry, you could tell that he was sizing up everybody in the room, including yourself.

“I found- oh, sorry. Didn’t see you there. Would you mind moving so that me and my partner could discuss something?” He asked politely, even smiling.

You locked eyes with him, smiling back at him.

“I’m good, thanks. You can just pull up a chair.”

His smile wavered and he maintained eye contact for a couple of moments longer before breaking it, going to a different table and pulling over a chair.

(You ignored the pointed look Mobius shot at you, like he was asking you to be the bigger person here. Unfortunately for him, you had no such intentions.)

“Right. I know how the Variant is hiding.”

Mobius leaned back.

“Talk about burying the lead. How?”

Loki smiled slightly, this smile much different from his last- he was proud of himself.

“He’s hiding in apocalypses.” 

There was a moment of silence. You and Mobius exchanged a glance.

“Which one? There’s like a million all across history.” Mobius pointed out and Loki took a second to compose himself before starting his explanation.

You sat back as he explained his reasoning, watching with amusement as he put more salt and pepper into Mobius’ salad, handing him your own drink when he realized that Mobius’ drink was empty.

He gave you a nod of recognition and Mobius sent you another, even more exasperated glance as Loki poured your drink into the salad (although, in your opinion, seeing Loki grin like that made it worth it).

                                                             —— “How was Pompeii?” You asked, not even having to look up from the apocalypse case files to figure out that it was Loki who was approaching you.

He stopped for a minute, almost taken aback by your observation, before continuing and taking a seat in front of you.

“I was right, naturally.”

You scoffed slightly.

“Naturally.”

You looked up at him to find that his piercing eyes were already looking at you, almost curiously.

“You’re already sorting through the apocalypse files.”

“Naturally occurring disasters with no survivors, cross-referenced with the candy that Mobius picked up. You were confident that you were right so I figured I should start looking.”

Loki raised his eyebrows and smiled slightly.

“You’re smarter than you look. Could’ve saved me and Mobius some time.” 

“He forgot to cross-reference?”

He nodded, hesitating for a moment before he grabbed some of the files that you hadn’t started looking over yet.

You looked at him appreciatively, though he wasn’t looking at you anymore. 

The two of you sat there, looking at the case files in a comfortable silence for a couple of minutes before Mobius walked into your office as well.

“What’s this?” Mobius asked, taking a cursory glance at the file on top.

“Kablooie.” You said simply and Mobius sighed slightly, frustrated that he hadn’t thought of it.

He grabbed a couple of files as well, standing up as he started reading.

“I think I have something,” Loki said a couple of minutes later, splaying the case out on your desk so that everyone could see. “Class ten apocalypse. Alabama, 2050.”

You looked it over and even just with a cursory glance, you could tell that this is where the Variant was hiding- you looked over at Mobius and saw pride on his face.

“You’re gonna take my job if I’m not careful.”

“Now to pitch it to Renslayer.” You said and Mobius nodded, already halfway out of your office. He closed the door behind him and you looked at Loki. “I don’t think I’ve seen him this excited in a while. In fact, the last time I saw him this excited, I think we saw a jet ski on a mission.”

Loki smiled to himself, though the expression disappeared when he looked back at you.

“And what about you?”

“Hm?” You tilted your head slightly, caught off-guard by the question.

“What excites you?” 

You held his gaze for a couple of moments, feeling uncomfortable with how he looked at you, as if he knew something about you that you didn’t know about yourself. 

You finally looked away, standing up.

“We should go meet Mobius. We’ll be heading out as soon as he gets the approval.”

“You say this like it’s a sure thing.”

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen Renslayer say no to him. Come on.”

                                                          ——

The rain sounded a hundred times louder when you were listening to it hit the roof of the Roxxcart, so loud that you could barely hear the sound of your own voice above the noise.

“What are you doing here?” You asked, positioning your reset baton defensively. The man standing by the plants seemed to hesitate slightly, although he was still much too calm for this kind of weather.

“Hurricane sale. Azaleas are half-off.”

“Could that be you?” You asked Loki, your eyes never leaving the man. Although his eyes continued to look between you and Loki, his gaze lingered on you longer.

“I… mean… I would’ve worn a suit, but it could be.”

You took a couple steps towards the man and he backed up, looking at you pleadingly.

“I don’t want to do this.” He said quietly and you tilted your head slightly, confused.

You took another step towards him.

“What-”

He grabbed your arm and a warm feeling came over your body.

A woman’s voice in your head lulled you to sleep, promising to bring you home and then everything went dark.

…

“Sylv, why are you acting so weird?” You asked, taking another sip of wine.

The blonde woman across from you smiled, although you could tell that she was forcing it for your sake.

“Another one of my suitors came and visited me today.” She said. You made a face and she laughed slightly.

“Complete fools, every one of them.”

“Fools for being deeply in love with me?” She asked, raising an eyebrow, almost as if she was allowing herself to play the part for a couple of brief moments.

“No, I’m above self-flagellation. They’re fools for thinking that they could ever win your heart.”

She laughed.

“And why is that?”

You leaned back in your chair.

“I have it on very good account that someone already has it.” You said and Sylvie‘s smile faded and her gaze didn’t quite meet yours, almost as if her mind was preoccupied elsewhere.

She looked back at you, her look apologetic.

The scene around you grew distorted, nothing quite clear anymore.

“I’m sorry.”

Her words repeated everywhere around you like you were in an echo chamber rather than…

Rather than…

Where were you?

The blonde woman that had been there a moment ago disappeared and with her, everything else.

…

When you came to, Mobius was kneeling beside you, waiting for you to wake up.

“C-7… are you okay?” He asked slowly, looking at you with more concern than you think anyone else ever has.

You propped yourself up and you looked around wildly for Loki or for the blonde woman- Sylvie- who had been in your head.

“Where are they?” You asked and you hated how desperate your voice sounded.

“They escaped. Take it easy, the Variant did a number on-”

“Mobius, I have to find her.” You said, trying to stand up only to be overwhelmed with nausea and dizziness.

Mobius supported you, keeping you from falling back onto the ground.

“I know. And we will, but we have more pressing issues right now. Come on.”

You didn’t protest, knowing that you wouldn’t be able to convince Mobius even if you promised to get him a jet ski afterwards.

What you had to do now, you would do alone.

He helped you through the portal back to the TVA and the rest of your team followed, all of them being immediately assigned to different Nexus events that were happening simultaneously.

You, being injured, were given the pass to stay back at the TVA. 

You wondered if the Timekeepers knew what you were about to do, if they could’ve predicted it- after all, they were the ones who had made you, right?

You headed to the sector of the TVA where they issued TemPads, looking at the data of where all the TemPads were jumping to and from when you stumbled upon something odd- there was a TemPad that only had one jump registered in its entire history.

TVA to Lamentis-1, 2077.

Huh.

The Variant- Sylvie- whatever her name was, must’ve found out a way to stop the TemPad from feeding data into the system, but it must’ve reset when she jumped to the TVA.

You grabbed one of the TemPad’s that were out of commission for charging, unplugging it. 

It was low on battery, but it would have to do.

You opened a portal for yourself using the exact same coordinates and time that they had put in and without any hesitation, you walked through.

#sylvie laufeydottir x reader #sylvie x reader #mcu sylvie x reader #mcu sylvie #sylvie #loki series #loki laufeyson #mcu loki #loki #mobius m mobius #tva #tva!reader #time variance authority #marvel #marvel x reader #marvel imagines #marvel imagine #mcu x reader #mcu imagine #MCU

[ask-the-clergy-bc]

what did our ghoulies do for the clergy before they became band ghouls and why were they picked out?

Ooooooh, love this!! Love getting to explore different clergy roles! I love getting to play with the origins of Era IV!

Since I also make a LOT of references to my ideas of leader ghouls, I'm gonna go ahead and link that headcanon here to avoid confusion! --> [Link]

Era IV Jobs Before the Ghost Project

Aether: Aether was summoned when the ministry decided to start training successor ghouls to the current ghoul leaders. Air had finally stepped down as Beta ghoul, and the ministry was afraid others would do the same. Ather was summoned specially to become the next Omega ghoul. While Aether has his own powers of healing that took over as his main duties, he mainly shadowed the head quintessence ghoul. This included a lot of traveling, learning about Earth and human culture, and working with many different types of ghouls. There was also a lot of personal assistance to the Emeritus line, as aether ghoul healing is more effective for demon blood than normal human medicine.

When Omega was on his tours, Aether took care of his business in his stead to test how close he was to being ready. Aether was never originally meant to take part in the Ghost project until a few albums ahead. But with Omega’s sudden departure and being needed back in the Clergy, Aether was once again tested by being a band substitute. Luckily, he was a natural and has been proving himself as the next head ghoul! Handling both responsibilities and the pressure of being the Omega Ghoul.

Cumulus: Cumulus has been around for a few decades and has served enthusiastically. Her first decade was as an assistant to Papa I- her summoner. Namely as his ritual assistant and with his paperwork. She has always had a good eye for detail and organization, with a queenly air of authority about her. But Papa believes in letting his ghouls flourish to their strong suits. Until Copia’s ascension, Cumulus has been the lively and loyal personal ghoul to Sister Imperator. Serving as everything from bodyguard, personal confidant, and even enforcer to the Mother Superior. Cumulus was the very first selected for the job of band ghoul when it was Copia’s turn to head the Ghost project.

Imperator wanted a ghoul who was smart, capable, and with a good grasp of leadership to help supervise the other ghouls. Cumulus was also vouched for by Air. Her and Cirrus were both personally trained by the older ghoul when he was looking for a successor for the Beta ghoul position. While neither were chosen for that particular duty, Cumulus is happy to be a part of the band. She still keeps in touch with Imperator and sometimes acts as though she is Copia’s manager. If something goes wrong or needs to be done, Cumulus is the first to know.

Cirrus: Cirrus has gone back and forth between two duties. Serving the current Imperator and studying under the former Beta ghoul, Air. Cirrus is a tough cookie and has been a ghoulish enforcer for many abbies. Essentially keeping ghouls and siblings in line when it comes to fights or rule breaking. There are always ghouls who make sure the will of the clergy is followed and those who commit crimes are punished. This was her preferred job, rather than work with Air. Who tended to find stuffy, traditional research more important. Cirrus, as calm as she is, prefers hands on work. She’s also worked security detail for all of the Papas but most importantly, Grand Papa Nihil. Cirrus is a long time bodyguard (and baby sitter) for the Grandpapa and Sister Imperator.

Cirrus was recommended by both Cumulus and Air- since they were both practically raised by Air to be potential leader ghouls. Nihil was particularly sad to see Cirrus disappear from his entourage, but agreed she would be a wonderful fit. Also Nihil and Imperator can agreed that Cirrus keeps Copia in line by her sheer intimidating presence and powerful aura. Cirrus would be lying if she said she didn’t also enjoy the chance to do something more fun and get away from the clergy for a bit!

Mountain: Although Mountain was summoned by Papa II, he was never strictly a ghoul for the Emeritus. Personally summoned ghouls tend to be bodyguards or close entourage for their Papal summoners. For a couple of decades Mountain was an effective and reliable body guard for Papa II. But Papa eventually realized his ghoul’s talents were being wasted. Stone ghouls have been shown to have natural strength beyond most ghouls and a good eye for architecture. Mountain has been responsible for helping build new cathedrals, quarters, and even clearing land. His level headedness and bluntness have also been excellent when working with Papa II, who has supervised many of these new buildings.

Mountain being assigned to go with Copia was actually a sort of ‘good faith loan’ from Papa II. Don’t get me wrong, Papa II does NOT like Copia. He finds him opportunistic and a usurping leech… However, Copia IS chosen by Lucifer. Papa II cares about his ministry MORE than he hates Copia. Since he hasn’t had Mountain as a bodyguard for years he decides to recommend him. After all, it also looks good on him for being generous enough to support the newest singer of the band. The Ministry was happy, mainly to let the Cardinal practice working with ghouls of different types and skill sets to delegate. On tour he was accepted and chosen for both his natural talents but to help balance out all of the incredibly strong personalities of the current ghouls.

Rain: Rain was a very behind the scenes ghoul, and rarely worked in the public congregation. He was the archivist assistant to the current head water ghoul, Delta. Delta is one of the oldest serving ghouls who now takes care of the Ministry’s protected collections of records. Rain has happily kept a quiet existence processing old and new registrations for the entire ministry. At one point Rain had studied directly under Delta with Water and Mist- all powerful water ghouls who are being trained for greater works. Rain loved playing music but never considered himself one to be ever picked for anything but reorganizing entire archives and dusting off old books.

Rain was recommended by Mist after her short stint with the Ghost project and Papa III. While she wanted to go on tour, she was needed elsewhere to train. She could vouch for Rain’s hard work and need to open up and embrace his potential. Copia was happy to take the water ghoul, as was shown to have indelible talent and an agreeable personality. The touring has definitely made Rain want to be more active in the ministry and with his fellow ghouls.

Swiss: Swiss was actually pretty high ranked before he became a band ghoul! While not part of the leader ghouls for the entire ministry, Swiss was the top ghoul in one of the main cathedrals outside of the head abbey. This meant he directed, advocated, and watched over all of the ghouls a part of the cathedral. Making sure all duties were done and all ghouls were taken care of. Swiss is a pretty strong ghoul in his own right. While he is fire he was born from two mixed ghouls of different elements. So he is well versed in different elemental energies and knowledge. His easy going nature and quick wit makes him a favorite among siblings and ghouls alike. Higher Clergy also worked with him to make accommodations and holidays for the ghouls.

Swiss was hand picked by Copia who worked with him pre Ghost project. Copia has always valued Swiss’s hard work and ability to get along with everyone he met. Swiss was agreed by Imperator and the ministry to be a great ghoul. Not just in vocals but bringing everyone together and interacting with the fans and staff. Swiss accepted the position with glee. He loves doing ceremonies at his home abbey, and a Ritual is nothing different- just bigger! Plus, Swiss will never turn down a chance to sing.

Ember: Ember has been strong but an entire pain in the ass of the Ministry for a LONG time. There have been many times he was almost sent back to Hell because he was difficult to control. Ember has calmed down in recent years, but he can still be a bit of a thorn in everyone's side. But he has so much potential within the Ministry, he’s too valuable of an asset. At first he was summoned as the potential candidate to be the next Alpha ghoul, for when Alpha eventually steps down. But to help him adjust to the responsibilities he had been shipped to many places with many duties. He’s been everything from a guard, to ritual assistant, to attack dog.

Eventually he found a spot with Papa III right before he went on tour as his bodyguard. Their energies actually worked very well together and he was one of the few before Copia who was able to give him the right outlets he needed. Ember was hand chosen to be a bassist by Papa III when Alpha had to return with Omega to the Ministry. Ember had originally asked to be guitarist, but the Ministry was interested in testing Ifrit to be the next Alpha ghoul. Ember was just happy to play but was absolutely thrilled when Copia asked for him to play head guitar.

#the band ghost #ghost bc #ghost headcanon #world building #nameless ghouls #ghoulettes #ember #swiss #aether #cumulus #cirrus #mountain #rain

[yelena-bellova]

Safe Haven: tftaws!Bucky Barnes x fem!reader - Chapter Eleven (final chapter)

chapter ten - Chapter Eleven: Safe Haven

Series Masterlist

Plot: Y/n and Bucky enjoy their time off in Brooklyn and make decisions about their future.

Warnings: FLUFF, very little angst for once, talk of torture, reference to suicide, open ended plot twist that I'm not sorry for...all the fluff, seriously...

Word Count: 7.3k

A/N: Here we are...part of the journey is the end, and we've arrived. Even though there's another a/n at the bottom (with an important announcement so don't tap out too soon) I want to iterate just how thankful I am for the response I got on this series. I had the most amazing time writing it and loved getting to meet and connect with so many of you through it. ENJOY!!

----

It had taken all the strength Bucky had in his soul to knock three times on Yori’s door. He didn’t know what reserve he had had to tap into to actually make his long-hidden confession but once the words had fallen from his lips, he felt both freed and all the more burdened. Watching his friend’s eyes become overtaken by heartbreak, the desperate, confused utterance of ‘why…?’ By the end, Yori wouldn’t even look at Bucky. Bucky didn’t blame him, he was surprised that the man wasn’t yelling him out of his apartment. Instead, he calmly told Bucky to leave, surely holding back the majority of his emotions until he was by himself. The door shut on their friendship and Bucky was by himself on the other side of the door once again, drawing the shaky breath he’d held while he was inside Yori’s place. Out of every person he’d gone to see, every heart he’d had to crush, this one had hurt the most. In the dauntingly long hallway, his eyes sought out the gift the universe had given him, so undeservingly.

His guiding light.

Bathed in the blue light that flooded through the dirty windows of the aged building, Y/n stared down at her feet as she paced. For as open as they’d become with one another, Bucky found himself unable to ask her to accompany him to his last opportunity to make amends. The two of them had become so skilled at reading each other that with one look in his saddened eyes, Y/n had squeezed her phone into the pocket of her jeans and stood by the door waiting for him to ready himself. Bucky was starting to make peace with his past, but he still didn’t know what he had done in his wretched life to have such an angel in his life.

“Hey,” she greeted soothingly, turning to face Bucky as he approached her, “How’d it go?” Bucky wasn’t ready to speak yet, he wasn’t even sure how he could describe what had just transpired. He simply sighed and allowed Y/n to wrap him in her arms in the embrace that was quickly becoming his favorite place to be.

——

As I woke with a groan, stretching my arms over my head, I was immediately aware that one side of the bed was cold. I blindly reached a hand over and felt around for Bucky’s missing body, sitting up when my search was unsuccessful. I blearily scanned the bedroom, our suits laying in a pile that had been kicked to the corner of the desolately furnished room. The few articles of clothing I had gone to the nearest department store and purchased for my impromptu stay in New York still lay folded on top of Bucky’s dresser. It didn’t dawn on me until that moment that I was beginning to spread across Bucky’s apartment without even trying.

It had been four days since the Flag Smasher’s final stand and while the world may have been spinning, mine had never been more steady. Bucky and I hadn’t left his apartment for more than running necessary errands. Other than that we’d spent the time enjoying our slice of domestic heaven learning about one another. I had discovered that Bucky was a good cook but only when it came to breakfast food. He had found out that I needed to sleep with the windows opened slightly for background noise. I had learned that his Spotify consisted strictly of music from the ’40’s and nothing else, contrary to what he’d told Sam about diving into Marvin Gaye’s discography. He’d learned that I got cold easily which led to both me stealing his hoodies and being on the receiving end of many bear hugs. We could tell what the other would do in combat or how they’d handle a concerning matter, but it was finding out the little things about James Buchanan Barnes that made me fall a little bit harder for him with each revelation.

The unlocking and opening of the door followed by quiet footsteps alerted me to his presence. I heard a few muffled noises before the floorboards outside the bedroom creaked, the door opening directly after. Bucky was careful and nearly silent as he came into the room until he saw that my eyes were open. We shared a lazy smile as he approached the bed.

“Did I wake you up?” he asked.

I shook my head in reply, he came to kneel at my side of the bed and pulled the hand he’d hidden behind his back out revealing a bouquet of daisies. “Just when I thought you couldn’t get any cuter,” I chuckled, reaching out to grab the bouquet, “I don’t think anyone’s ever bought me flowers.”

“That’s a crime,” Bucky said as he stood up, shedding his leather jacket as he walked around the bed, “In my time, you always brought a girl flowers on the first date. It was just what you did.”

“I guess we can consider my little extended stay a first date,” I dipped my nose down to smell the flowers, “Although I’m pretty sure in your time you wouldn’t allow a girl into your bed so soon.” Bucky snickered to himself, “A gentleman would never let a lady sleep on the floor. And selfishly,” he tugged his second layer, a grey long sleeved shirt off over his head, and looked down on me lovingly, “I sleep better with you here.”

It was true. He’d told me how he’d only used the bed once since he’d moved in, having slept on the floor instead. I was familiar with the phenomenon, Sam had gone through the same thing when he’d returned from the service. I’d told him that if he had a nightmare and needed to move out to his living room, I’d join him with no hesitations. Shockingly, it hadn’t happened yet and we’d slept in a peaceful tangle of limbs each night that I’d been with him.

Kicking off his boots, he slipped under the duvet and sat up against the headboard, looking over at me and patting his jean clad thigh. I set the flowers down and crawled over to him, sinking down onto his lap and sliding my hands around his neck.

“I like this,” he complimented me with a smirk, tugging at the material of his henley that I was wearing, “Looks better on you than it ever would on me.” “Clearly you’ve never seen you,” I scoffed, I’d also learned that the man had no idea just how attractive he was, “What were you off doing?” “Grocery store,” Bucky answered, gesturing to the sidelined bouquet, “Florist. Dr. Raynor’s office…” “Oh, I didn’t know you had a session this morning.”

Bucky took a deep breath, his hands firmly secured around my waist and his thumbs rubbing at my hips. “I didn’t,” he answered, “I, uh, I crossed off all the names in my book. Thought I’d drop by and let her know.” I gave a breathy laugh, “All of them?” He nodded, “All of them.” Surprised and proud, I placed my hands on his cheeks and pressed a sweet kiss to his lips. “I never doubted you for a second” I said softly, our lips almost touching, “I’m proud of you.”

Bucky gave a small smile, not yet ready to take as much pride as I could in his recovery. I could tell that he was lighter, while his personality was silent and stoic there wasn’t as much sadness lurking beneath it. To those who knew him, the difference in his behavior was visible. The days that I’d been in New York were the happiest I’d seen Bucky since I’d known him.

“So…” I sighed, my hands sliding down to his shoulders, “No more therapy sessions, no more battles to be fought…What do we do now?”

The dreaded question that we’d been avoiding since we’d isolated ourselves from the outside world. There was no doubt as to whether or not I wanted to make it work between Bucky and I, but we hadn’t even discussed what “it” was. What should have unfolded over the course of a couple months had happened as a crash course over two weeks. I didn’t regret it, I just needed to know where Bucky’s head was at regarding our future. “Look,” Bucky averted his gaze downwards, “I’m not…I haven’t done this in a long time and I can’t promise that I’m gonna be good at it. I can’t even promise that I’ll know what I’m doing some of the time. But,” he shyly raised his eyes to meet mine, “I want this. I want you.”

His earnestness was so genuine, I thought my heart might burst from the emotion in his ocean blue eyes. “Bucky, I don’t want perfect,” I said, “And I’m pretty sure that a 106 year old with a robotic arm and a girl who can fly using blue energy from inside her wouldn’t even know what to do with perfect,” I earned a single laugh out of him, “Whatever we have right now, that’s what I want. I want to fight with you by my side and make a difference in the world, then I want to come home with you and teach you to cook something other than pancakes.”

He furrowed his brow, “What do you got against my pancakes?”

“My point is,” I giggled, my hands drifting back up to each side of his neck, “I want you exactly as you are. I haven’t done this in a long time either, I thought that after my dad died I was too broken to ever let myself be happy like this and you know that I’m coming in with more baggage than before. You’re not the only one who doesn’t know what they’re doing. But there’s nobody else I’d rather figure this out with than you.”

The long stare he gave me was reminiscent of the first moment we’d been alone together, standing before the 200 foot drop in Munich. It was the first moment I’d appreciated his beauty, maybe it was the first seed planted in what was now a full-blown relationship in the making. This time, instead of sassing me with those hardened, slightly amused eyes, he surged forward and kissed me, cradling the back of my head in his Vibranium palm. I returned the kiss with just as much fervor, gripping the tight blue t-shirt tightly in my fists. Unlike the kisses we’d shared at 1AM in the kitchen of my house, this one carried a different weight. It was a promise of a future. Movie nights introducing Bucky to the classics that he’d missed. Lazy mornings in bed turned passionate as our bodies surrendered to one another. Protecting each other on whatever battlefields we’d inevitably end up on. Frustrating fights over something we’d inevitably admit was stupid to argue over. Whispering soothing affirmations to help Bucky come down from a violent nightmare. I could taste it all, the good and the bad, in that one kiss and I wanted every bit of it.

“Two weeks…” I said after we’d parted, shaking my head in amazement and laughing, “That’s all it took.” “Crazier things have happened,” Bucky reassured me with a smile, running his hands up and down my back, “My folks always said they knew in a week and they were together for almost forty years.” I bushed my lips against his softly, basking in the euphoria of knowing that the two of us belonged wholly to one another. To think that I’d been willing to throw all of it away mere days ago, I was ready to deprive myself and Bucky of the love we’d craved all our lives. I thanked God that my resolve to stay away had weakened long enough to let Bucky in because now, wrapped in his strong arms with his lips begging for a deeper kiss, I knew that I had something truly spectacular in my hands.

“Well, since this is official,” Bucky said, a little breathless, “There’s something you should have.” He took his hands off of my body and reached behind his neck, pulling off one of his dog tags. Understanding what he was doing and the significance of it, I moved my head to allow him to place the necklace over it, the cold metal of the ball chain settling against my neck. The tag fell between my breasts, I picked it up and read Bucky’s name, his service number, the name of his sister, their address and his birth place. He’d given me, a part of his future, a piece of his history.

“Bucky…” I whispered, not trusting my voice enough to come out steady.

“A lot of soldiers gave one of them to their girls before they shipped out,” he recalled, watching me examine the piece of metal, “At least I know if I ever do ship out anywhere, you’ll be with me.” I bit my lip and smiled, looking up at him with misty eyes. When the first tear fell down my cheek, Bucky was quick to wipe it away and did so with a smile of his own. After all the pain we’d both suffered through in life, we were finally allowed tenderness. Our hearts were scarred, our bodies worn, but no amount of trauma could lay a hand on the way we felt about one another. There’d be many more fights, some with forces bigger than the ones we’d spent the last two weeks taking a stand against. But at the end of the day, I had Bucky, my safe haven to come back to.

“It’s getting late,” I observed after a few minutes of sweet silence, the morning hours were slipping away from us, “Are you hungry? I can make us something.” “Yeah, but,” Bucky’s hands found my arms and he rubbed his palms against them, “Let’s stay here just a little while longer…”

A grin spread across my face, one that I was finding only Bucky could bring out in me. “Okay,” I replied, settling my face in the crook of his neck and resting against his chest, the only place I wanted to be.

——

A FEW DAYS LATER

“You ready, Barnes?” “I’m ready.” “This is the most dangerous mission we’re ever going to face.” “I wouldn’t have come if I couldn’t handle it.” “Then why are you sweating?” “I’m not…sweating.” “Well, at least I know you’ll never lie to me. You suck at it,” I smirked just before smoothing out the shoulders of his jacket, “Follow my lead, you’ll be fine.”

Bucky blew out a breath, his cheeks loosing their puff as he exhaled, “Here goes nothing…” I gave three sharp knocks on the door before entering, seeing the familiar face waiting in a chair by the window. “Hey, Mama…” My mother smiled deeply at the sight of her daughter, alive before her. “Baby,” she whispered as she slowly rose to embrace me, “Oh, you’re here.” “I’m here,” I smiled, trying to fight the tears threatening to fill my eyes. My mother had been my first call after the battle in New York, realizing that my face was flashing across every news channel in the country alongside Sam and Bucky. This was the first time I’d seen her since before I’d left Louisiana with Sam.

“And you brought someone?” she asked over my shoulder, pulling away to wipe her cheeks.

“I did,” I turned around and looped my arm through Bucky’s, who was looking vaguely nauseous, “Mom, this is James.”

Bucky stuck out his gloved hand towards my mother, “It’s wonderful to meet you, Mrs. Y/l/n.”

“Wonderful to meet you too, James,” she responded, shaking his hand and looking over to me, “I’ve been waiting a long time for Y/n to bring somebody home.” I forced a chuckle, “Thanks, Mom…” “Well, I’m honored that I’m the one she chose,” Bucky beamed, his bright eyes seeking mine out.

“Well, sit down,” my mom gestured to the two free chairs in the room, “I want to hear all about how you two met.”

Bucky and I exchanged a nervous look as we pulled up our seats to join her by the window. How were you supposed to explain that you’d fallen for a 106 year old who just happened to have once been the world’s deadliest assassin? “Um…James is one of Sam’s friends from the military. He came with us to Munich and things just sort of,” I slipped my hand into one of Bucky’s that sat in his lap, “Happened from there.” “We didn’t like each other much at first, but,” Bucky chimed in, rubbing his thumb over the back of my hand, “She definitely snuck up on me.”

“Oh my,” she looked at me amusedly, “How’s Sam taking this? Has he threatened you yet, Bucky?” “Yeah, I, uh, got a text from him the other day, and it read something like ‘I’ve got access to government weapons, don’t make me use them.’”

I covered my mouth and snorted as my mother got a good laugh herself, “You didn’t tell me that.” Bucky shook his head, a small smile on his lips, Sam and him had been getting along swimmingly since his last visit to Louisiana. But no friendship could eclipse Sam’s overprotective nature when it came to his family, it was only a matter of time until Bucky was on the receiving end of its ugly side.

“Truth is,” Bucky turned his gaze to my mother while keeping a soft grip on my hand, I could feel his nerves radiating through his touch, “I’m crazy about your daughter, ma’am, I think she’s the most amazing woman I’ve ever met.”

Mom sighed, an ear-to-ear grin painted across her face. It was the same one I’d seen when my sister had first brought her now husband home to meet us. “I can’t tell you how happy it makes me to hear that, James,” she replied, “I’m looking forward to getting to know you more.” “Are you sure you don’t want to come with us?” I questioned, “It’s been so long since the whole family was together.” “I wish, but I’m a little too tired to make the trip there,” Mom answered, settling into her seat a little more, “You don’t need an old lady there slowing you down.” “That’s ridiculous,” I gently pushed back, “But since Sam and I are back home for a while, we’ll make sure to bring everybody up one of the weekends.” “I’d like that,” she smiled. A phone buzzing interrupted the conversation, Bucky let go of my hand to reach into his jacket pocket. “It’s Sam, probably wants an ETA,” he announced, rising from his seat and looking between both me and my mother, “Sorry.”

Both of us shooed him out of the room to take the call, turning back to one another once he was gone with shining smiles. “Honey…” “I know…” I tried to hold back a giddy laugh threatening to erupt.

“He seems wonderful…” I shook my head, semi in disbelief that things had turned out the way they had. “You don’t even know the half of it, he’s just…I’m crazy about him.” “That much is obvious,” Mom gestured to my face, “You haven’t stopped smiling since you walked through that door. I’ve never seen you this happy. Just one thing…” I furrowed my brows as her smile turned to a knowing smirk, “Did you honestly think I wouldn’t know who he is?” I sighed, leaning forward in my seat and propping my elbows on my knees. “We weren't trying to hide it, he just doesn’t like to advertise it. Once people know, they usually can’t look past what he was. But, Mom, we’ve been glued at the hip for the last two weeks and I can promise you, what you’re seeing is what you’re getting. I wouldn’t be with him if I thought there was any chance he could hurt me. He saved my life and so many others last week...” “Sweetie, you don’t have to try and sell me on him,” Mom said soothingly, reaching out to touch my knee, “I trust your judgement and I also know what happened to him, it was tragic. The fact that he has a second chance at his life makes me happy, especially since it’s with you. Watching the two of you, how at ease he is with you…And those eyes,” she stopped to chuckle, “The way he looks at you is something special, it’s something magical. The two of you fit.”

Eventually I would tell her the whole story of how Bucky and I came to be, but it was better saved for another day. If she only knew how challenging it had been to get to something so simple and how Bucky and I valued each other all the more for it. “He fought for me, Mama,” I said with tears brimming, letting out a laugh, “Literally and metaphorically. And I just couldn’t let him go, he’s everything I’ve wanted but what I thought I could never have.” Mom placed a hand on my cheek, “You deserve him, my love. After everything you’ve been through, you deserve happiness.” And for the first time, I believed her. I believed that through my suffering, I had played a small part in helping Bucky through his. We deserved something more than what had happened to us and we had found it in one another.

“Your father would be proud of you,” Mom said, her face flashing with a different emotion than joy for a brief second. “I’m not sure about that…” I mumbled, dodging her eyes in favor of staring down at my hands, a different reaction than I’d ever had when talking about my father.

“Sweetie,” she coaxed me, tapping at my hands until I looked back up at her, “Do you…do you know something?” My heartbeat started to quicken as I struggled to contain the information I was withholding from my mother. It was taking everything I had not to tell her that her husband had been a part of one of the cruelest organizations the world had ever seen. The pain must have reflected in my expression. “Yeah,” she whispered, biting her lip and closing her eyes, “You know…” “Mom?”

She sighed, sitting back in her chair and supporting her head in her hand. “I didn’t know anything about that part of your father’s life when I married him, he didn’t like to talk about his time in the ‘service’ and I never pushed it…It wasn’t until the night that he died, before he left the house, that he sat me down and confessed it all.” “He…” I moved to the edge of my seat, “He told you?” “Mmhmm,” she nodded, a distant look in her eyes like she was transported back in time to that very moment, “I didn’t know how to process any of it, how could I? This man who I’d shared my life with and he’d made his living off of inflicting pain on innocent people. Hours later, he was gone and any chance to delve deeper into it was gone too. It’s taken me a long time to come to terms with everything, but I made it. You’re free to draw your own conclusions, Y/n, I’m not telling you how to feel. All I’ll say is this,” Mom drew a breath before continuing, “Your father’s guilt over what he did, to Bucky specifically, overwhelmed him. He told me how HYDRA manipulated him, a young and ambitious man, into coming to work for them, lying and telling him they were creating a better world with their work. He thought he was fighting for what was right…I’m not making excuses for him, believe me, I’m simply telling you what he told me. Do you remember when he’d wake up from a nightmare?” I nodded grimly, the shrieks of my father’s always strained vocal cords still haunted me decades later. “Do you remember what he used to cry when he woke up?” Mom asked.

I silently shook my head in reply, when I’d be awoken by my fathers blood curdling screams as a child, I’d always bury my head under my pillow in an effort to block it out, shedding tears at knowing I couldn’t help him. “Soldat…”

My head perked up, the word was familiar to me after hearing Zemo call Bucky the same thing when we were undercover in Madripoor. “Of course by the time that your James was free, your father had been dead for over a decade but,” Mom paused, looking out the window as memories hit her, “Your father’s guilt over what he did ate away at him every day. As far as you went, he told me that the reason he wanted to keep your powers hidden was because he was afraid HYDRA would come for you. It’s the reason I moved us to Delacroix after he died, I didn’t want to take the chance of somebody finding you. Dad didn’t want them to make you a weapon the same way they made one of James. But honey,” she took my hand, “He believed you could do great things, truly. One of the last things he said to me was that our family was the one good thing he’d done in life.”

Everything that I’d thought and everything I’d never thought had been revealed to me. My father’s crimes could never be erased, but some part of me felt satisfied knowing that he knew what he did was wrong. He’d been haunted day and night by Bucky, the man who I was completely head over heels for. In some way, it felt poetic that Bucky and I had ended up together. I couldn’t magically heal his trauma, but for every bit of torture my dad and countless others inflicted upon him, I was now there to shower him in the love and safety he deserved.

“Have you…forgiven him for what he did?” I hesitantly asked.

“You know, after all these years, I’m still not sure what forgiveness looks like in a situation like this,” she admitted with a small shrug, “We weren’t affected, yet his past put us in danger, especially you. And now, seeing the man that he was paid to hurt and how much joy he brings you, it’s bringing up a lot of emotions I thought I’d buried. I know he regretted what he’d done with his whole being and I believe that, but I still question why he didn’t leave sooner. I wish I could give you a better answer but-“ “Mama,” I squeezed her hand and pushed back my tears to help her, “I’ve had this information for a week and I’m still spinning, I can’t imagine what it’s like to sit on it silently for this long. I was hellbent on keeping this from you but I’m actually relieved that I don’t have to hide it…” I took a trembling breath, “Dad did a lot of things wrong in his life, but I have a chance to do a lot of good. I’ve talked to Sam and I’m going to keep working with him, I’m done living with my hands tucked under my legs. I want to make the difference in the world that Dad thought he was making.” “I think you’re off to a pretty good start,” my mother replied, “I was terrified watching you fly around New York, but I’d also never been prouder of you.” A knock on the door followed by Bucky sticking his head through it broke us from the topic. “Am I interrupting?” he asked, his eyes widened slightly as he worried. “Not at all,” my mom said cheerily as she slowly rose from her seat, “I don’t want to keep you two any longer when you’ve got somewhere to be.”

I tightly embraced her and placed a kiss on her cheek, “Love you,” I whispered.

“Love you too, sweetheart,” she replied, gesturing afterwards to Bucky who made his way over to her and allowed himself to be hugged by her, “Take care of my girl, James.” “I will,” Bucky promised, pulling back to give a nod full of conviction.

Once the two of us had shut my mom’s door and were back out in the hallway of the nursing home, Bucky noticed the slight puffiness of my eyes. “Happy tears or sad tears?” he asked as we walked down the hall.

“‘I don’t know’ tears,” I replied with a small smile, weaving my fingers between his gloved metal ones. “But well done, Sergeant. I’d consider that a successful mission,” I finished, receiving the laugh I loved so much and a kiss to the side of my head. I pressed my lips to the place on his shoulder where I knew underneath his layers Vibranium met his skin, one of his favorite places to be kissed. My phone went off then, alerting me to a text, I pulled it out of the pocket. “Bucky…” I muttered, stopping in the middle of the hall. “What is it?” he asked as he stepped back to join me, I held my phone out for both of us to read the ominous words displayed.

The world’s seen what you can do, come to Madripoor when you decide to use those hands for something worthwhile.

- The Power Broker

“How did they get my number?” I asked in surprise, letting Bucky take my phone to examine it closer as if he could find something I couldn’t. “I don’t know,” he answered, handing the device back to me, “But we’re changing it immediately, you need to show this to Sam soon as we get to the house.” “They’re not actually threatening me, seems more like a job offer than anything else that’s only going to be declined. Plus, they’re all the way in Madripoor,” I stuck the phone back in my pocket, “I’m not going to let this ruin our day.” Bucky frowned down at me as I took his arm once again, “You’re a little too relaxed about this.” “I’m a mutant who can make things move with her mind with Captain America for a brother and a Super Soldier for a boyfriend, I’d love to see the Power Broker try to mess with that.”

——

The dock was exactly how I loved to see it, packed and filled with joy.

Sam and Sarah had invited the whole town to the celebratory cookout, people of all ages flooding our corner of the bayou as Bucky and I pulled up. Sam had loaned us his truck for the duration of our stay and I was having the time of my life showing Bucky around Louisiana and there was nothing more Louisiana than a cookout with the entire community.

Bucky parked near the end of the dock and hopped out, carrying the ice cream cake that we’d picked up on our way. He crossed around the front of the truck to open the door for me, taking one of my hands and helping me hop out of the passenger side. After a dozen more reassurances during the drive that the text I’d received wasn’t worth freaking out about, he’d begun to relax. For once, he wasn’t trying to hide his emotions. I could see it plain as day on his face, he was genuinely excited to be back in Delacroix and even more excited when the familiar sounds of AJ and Cass hit our ears.

“Oh! There he is!” Bucky greeted as the boys ran up to us and began throwing fake punches at my boyfriend who willingly played along, dramatically dodging their imaginary hits. He raised up the hand that held the cake over Cass’ head and yelled to which I quickly threw an energy shield underneath his arm to protect the overly expensive dessert.

“Aunt Y/n! Can you make us fly?” AJ came up to my side and begged.

Cass backed his brother up, “Yeah, can we? Please?” “No,” I replied, retaking Bucky’s hand and letting him lead us through the crowd, “But you can follow us with your two perfectly functional legs.” My nephews both groaned and laughed as they fell in step behind Bucky and I. “Where is everybody?” he asked as he set the cake down on one of the picnic tables set out and removed his sunglasses.

“Uncle Sam’s taking pictures with people, Mom’s cooking and Aunt Mel’s at one of the tables,” Cass answered, his face lighting up as he got a good luck at the dessert.

“After dinner,” I said, quickly having switched back into aunt mode, “Now lead the way.”

I extended my hand toward the boys and raised them up a few inches above the ground, receiving laughter and praises in return as I moved them ahead of us and through the crowd. Along the way people kept patting me on the back or sneaking in quick hugs, they shook Bucky’s hand and thanked us both for what we’d done in New York. The only thing that confused me was how people weren’t calling me by name. By the time we made it to Sarah, I had questions.

“There they are, America’s Power Couple,” she announced, coming out from behind the booth where she’d been chopping to hug us both. I pulled back to lower the boys back to the ground, “Do you know why people I’ve known almost all my life are suddenly calling me ‘Sapphire?’”

“Did you not check the internet at all when you were in Brooklyn?” she raised an eyebrow before pulling out her phone from her back pocket and pulling up Instagram, “Ever since the night of the fight, people have been referring to you as Sapphire. People are posting pictures of you, trying to get interviews with you, kids are even dressing up like you!” “Oh my gosh,” I mumbled as I scrolled through the hashtag containing the name, seeing all the proof of Sarah’s words before my eyes. Dozens and dozens of various types of photos displayed my signature shade of blue, “Bucky, look!” He took the phone out of my hand, a smile spreading across his face soon after. “That’s my girl,” he said proudly, handing the phone back to Sarah.

“You wanted the superhero life, you got it,” my sister laughed before returning to what she was doing, “Sam’s doing pictures and there’s already been people asking if you were gonna be here so I imagine they’re gonna want some with you.”

Bucky grabbed my hand and led me around to where a line had formed, spotting Sam as the destination. As soon as he caught a glimpse of us, he held up a finger to the crowd and broke away from them. The three of us exchanged hugs, me internally laughing to myself at the fact that two weeks after saying they never wanted to see one another again, they were now brothers in arms. Sam took my hand and tugged me towards where everyone was gathered, “Lotta people have been waiting for you, Sapphire,” he smirked.

As the day went on, the three of us did meet and greets with nearly everybody. At one point I found Bucky casually talking to Sarah with AJ, Cass and other neighborhood kids hanging off his vibranium arm. People had gathered around me as well asking to levitate them, something that provided entertainment for everyone. We ate, we laughed, at one point I caught Sam and Bucky watching the sun set over the Louisiana waters. I couldn’t resist the temptation to sneak in between the two and was received with an arm around each of my sides. We’d fought a shared battle along with our own separate three and now that they’d all been put to rest, we could take a minute to enjoy the freedom we’d worked so hard for. The future was unknown, but I knew that if we’d made it through the mess of a week we’d had together, there wasn’t a whole lot that we couldn’t make it through.

——

When the sky darkened, the dock lights went on and the party kept going. Someone had brought out a Bluetooth speaker and there was now a section of the dock that acted as a makeshift dance floor. I was seated at a table with Melanie watching the show, baby Alexandria fast asleep in her arms. “So…Bucky,” my sister said teasingly teased.

I let out a loud sigh, “Bucky.” “He’s perfect for you,” she smiled, “I’m glad you brought him home.” “Me too,” I scanned the dock until I spotted my boyfriend, engrossed in a conversation with Sam, “He fits right into the family.” “I’ll say, the kids love him. Max and Sophia have been following him around all day, I’ve never been able to get the baby to sleep as fast as when he held her…” I chuckled, “Yeah, just when I thought he couldn’t get any more attractive, you stuck a baby in his arms.” Mel snickered at my reaction, “Yeah, pretty sure every woman on the dock snapped a picture of that.” The two of us burst into laughter before hushing ourselves as to not wake the sleeping infant. “Hey, Sapphire,” she nudged my shin with her foot, “I’m proud of you.” “Well, that’s a far cry from how you felt last week,” I commented, remembering the fear in my sister’s voice from our phone calls in Riga.

“I’m always going to worry about you, but once I actually saw you do your thing,” she breathed, “I was just in awe of how you would risk your life to save all those people. It would be a waste to not put your gift to good use.” I leaned my head against hers and brushed a finger over Alexandria’s thinly haired head, appreciating the sweetness of the moment. Once a slow song came on the speakers, I watched as Bucky stepped away from Sam and made his way over to our table. “Can I steal your sister away for a dance?” he asked Mel. “Steal? You can keep her,” I shot my sister a faux smile while she watched on with a grin as I took Bucky’s outstretched hand and let him lead me away. “Gonna show me some more Madripoor moves?” I jested as we walked across the dock. “That was not dancing, although I did enjoy it,” Bucky replied, giving me a wink that could have melted me into a puddle, “I’ll show you what real dancing is.” I recognized the song as a version of ‘The Way You Look Tonight’ and realized Bucky waited until now to show off any moves in his arsenal because it was probably the first song he recognized on the playlist. He encircled my waist with his flesh arm and took my hand in his Vibranium one, pulling me so close that there wasn’t any space left between us. He began to sway us slowly to the beat of the song. I rested my cheek against his, breathing in the scent of him mixed with the bayou evening air. As far as I was concerned, dancing in the arms of the man I was somehow lucky enough to call my own in the place I loved most in the world was the perfect end to a perfect day.

“Alright, I give…” I relented softly, close enough to his ear that I barley had to speak louder than a whisper for him to hear me, “Your version of dancing is better.” He gave a gentle laugh, the sweetest sound, and rubbed at my waist, “It’s more about the partner than it is the actual dance, think I’ve got the best one.”

“You certainly know how to make a girl blush, Sergeant Barnes,” I replied just before he spun me out of his arms and back into his body, “When’s your flight back to Brooklyn?” Bucky cocked an eyebrow, “Already tired of me?”

“Never,” I shook my head with a genuine smile, “Just trying to soak in all the time I can with you before you go back.” “About that…” he trailed off, turning his gaze to the various other couples dancing around us, “I was thinking of maybe extending my stay. I mean the scenery’s nice, good food,” he looked back to me, “Decent people.” The grin that I was fighting was starting to make itself very apparent, “What are you saying?” “Well,” Bucky shrugged and looked away again, “I mean, I’d need to find a place, hopefully nothing too expensive or else I’d have to find a roommate and even then, it’d be hard to find someone I like enough to live with…”

“Bucky…” I’d ceased our movements to show just how serious I was, searching his face to try and tell if he was joking or not. “What do you say, doll? You think you can put up with me a little while longer?” he asked with a smirk. I exhaled happily and pulled him down to my lips, kissing him with all the excitement that filled my veins at the prospect of him staying. When we finally pulled away, I cradled his cheek in my hand. “I will put up with you for as long as you want,” I beamed, pecking his lips once more. “I’m glad,” Bucky kissed my temple, “It was either telling you this or the other thing…” “What’s the other thing?” I asked, thinning my eyes at him in expectancy of another surprise.

Bucky drew a breath, taking a few seconds to steady himself for whatever he was planning to say. “Well, I was going to tell you that I love you but,” he clicked his teeth, “Now that I think about it, it’s probably better saved for another time,” The earth ceased to move and spin at a dizzying pace all at once, his blue eyes never more truthful than they were in that moment. “I think you’re right,” I said over the lump in my throat, holding back the tears that had come all to quickly, “Best to save that for another day, wouldn’t want to make a hasty declaration or anything...” “That’s what I was thinking,” Bucky replied plainly, continuing our charade. I gave him a watery smile, bringing one of my hands up to run through the hairs at the base of his neck. “I love you too,” I whispered.

Both of Bucky’s arms wrapped around my waist, clutching me as tight as he could without actually injuring me as our lips met. I encircled his neck and relaxed into him completely, feeing aglow with the love that I could finally admit to feeling. Both of us smiled into the kiss, feeding off of the mutual joy of what was unfolding before us. Was it crazy to commit in the ways I was committing to a man I’d known for only two weeks? To some, yes. But ‘some’ hadn’t formed the bond that Bucky and I had over the short span of time it had taken for me to fall in love with him. We had seen the best and the worst of each other, rising and falling with one another’s waves and learning what made the other tick. I wanted every part of him, the good, the bad, the traumatic and the pure. The quick decisions that would raise eyebrows made sense to us, and that was more than enough reason for me to see each one through.

“Thanks for not giving up on me,” Bucky said softly after we’d parted, pulling back to admire me. “Thanks for not letting me give you up,” I returned, staring up into the eyes that had first captured me. The eyes that I’d get to stare into each and every day.

Since the night we’d connected on the jet ride to Berlin, there was some way Bucky had made me feel that I couldn’t put a name to. Something I couldn’t understand at the time but I was fully aware of now. Bucky felt like home. And with our bright future ahead of us, wrapped in his arms dancing underneath the Louisiana stars, I’d never felt more at home.

----

A/N: I'm not crying, you're crying. GUYS. IT'S OVER. WHAT THE HELL AM I SUPPOSED TO DO WITH MY TIME NOW? I want to thank every single person who liked, commented, reblogged, sent messages and asks and supported this silly little fic I thought up one day after watching TFATWS. As someone who is super insecure about their writing, seeing it well received was a boost to my confidence to keep running with this. I've loved getting to write this and give it to you all and can't wait to write more for you. I'm adding my new taglist link for anyone who would like to be added, it's separated by the characters I write for and you can choose which ones you'd like to follow. THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU A MILLION TIMES AGAIN. I LOVE YOU ALL 3000!!

Safe Haven taglist: @tanyaherondale @wanniiieeee @asoftie4bucky @edencherries @i-reblog-fics-i-like @ttalisa @gcfty @withyoutilltheendofthismess @rinaispunk @weirdowithnobeardo @felicityofbakerstreet @godlyhufflepuff @eternalharry @voguesir @mizz-kraziii @okayline @smellmymisunderstoodfluff @wanderin-stories @nicklet94 @intricate-melody @aesthethickks @stumbleonmywords @simplybarnes @21bruhs @lostinwonderland314 @superbookishhufflepuff @kaelyn-lobrutto24 @zozebo @fandomxreaders @kittengirl998 @sarai-ibn-la-ahad @i-know-i-can @x-judyjude-x @thebi-valkyrieofvalhalla @buckverse @living-that-best-life @haphazardhufflepuff @citlalireedus @lindseyrae20 @missstef23 @qhbr2013 @sebby-stann @bluemoon-icecream @iixbella @lets-love-little-me @abitofeverythinggg @itsnottilly @sltwins @mads-weasley @hart-failure @natdrunk @nctma15 @obsessedwithjustaboutanything @patdsinner33 @rosebucketbarnes @tylard-blog1

#bucky barnes x fem!reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes imagine #sam wilson x platonic!reader #sam wilson x reader #marvel imagine