#let's pretend this is just a cool pose and not meant to be a pose with some instrument

[faeriekit]

Down and Out

phic phight prompts taken from @sillysugargliders and @akela-nakamura

“Technowizard!” Tuck declared, pointing up towards the glass ceiling. The ratty Hack-A-Thon tee-shirt and Star Wars print pants did not an imposing outfit make.

Sam’s avocado-coated face barely even looked up from her phone. “Lame.”

“The Finest Pharoah!” Tucker tried again, glaring straight down at Sam as he posed again— this time, with his other hand.

“Cringe,” was Sam’s bland contribution.

Tucker threw both his hands in the air in sheer exasperation, narrowly avoiding sending Sheila2 flying up into the air with them. “The— oh shoot— the Tech Menace! The Electric Enemy!”

“Makes you sound like a bit-rate villain,” Sam drawled, finishing out her level of tetris with perfect accuracy. She clicked off the phone before she could get suckered in. “Tucker, have you considered any good names? At all?”

Fair revenge was fair revenge, and Tucker didn’t want to waste his own pillow on vengeance. Using Sam’s bamboo-woven pillowcase against her facemask was fair game— and her shriek of rage over the smeared facemask was just desserts.

Tucker eventually lost, of course, smothered underneath the very same pillow he’d assaulted his friend with, but hey; he’d given it his all, and that was what mattered in the end.

Winning would be nice, though. You know. One day.

In the meantime, though, they were squatting in Sam’s greenhouse, reclining on air mattresses on recycled wooden palettes. It was kind of cold— Tucker was glad Sam had thought ahead and brought blankets— but there were no bugs, and there was no rain, even if there were frogs singing bleakly outside glass walls throughout the night.

Sam was good at pretending it didn’t bother her.

Tucker knew it had to, though. Sam was used to having things. Being comfortable. Having her bamboo toothbrush and toothpaste tabs at the ready, with her natural fiber blankets and her desktop computer and a credit card that would solve the majority of her problems.

Instead they had used the cheapest versions of everything at the dollarstore. Abrasive discount soap. Deodorant with added aluminum. They’d brushed their teeth at the spigot where the hose screwed on, and tomorrow they’d wash with the hose the same way.

Card could be traced. Tucker was the only one who’d been carrying cash in the moment.

Man, Tucker thought, tunnelling himself under his blankets. Running away sucked. At least the only thing Tucker had to miss was his parents. And his spare parts.

…He hoped his parents weren’t looking for him. The "proper authorities" had probably already informed them he was infected. They should…they should hopefully know that being gone was safer than being there.

Sam’s black-nailed thumb and green-coated face peeked at him from under the covers. Without his glasses, she mostly looked like a blob, so Tucker just waved. He wanted to be social. He wanted to be happy.

It felt like everything was falling apart through his fingers, and there wasn’t anything he could do about it.

“Hey,” Sam said. “If you want to charge your tech, I’m out of the plug.”

It was a sweet gesture. “Thanks,” was all Tucker could say. But he didn’t want to leave his cave.

Sam, of all people, knew what level of trust the gesture meant when Tucker gave his phone over to her. She didn’t say anything, but she didn’t have to; it was the same level of trust Sam was showing to him by letting them stay here, together, instead of apart, the way Jazz had originally planned.

Running away properly would have been safer. But here, in this moment, they were warm, and safe, and somewhat fed.

Tucker stuck his face into his pillow and thought It doesn’t get much better than this.

…Man, it was supposed to be roast beef dinner tonight. He was missing out!

“...I still think that Technowizard is a cool name,” Tucker grumbled to himself. Sam shot him a fond, if exasperated look.

“No.”

“Fine, bossy. What did you pick?”

“Foxglove,” Sam replied simply. “Most famous poisonous plant in the Western world. It’s poetic.”

Tucker thought on it. It…had merit, but… “You know people are going to shorten it to Foxy, right?”

Sam paused.

…She set her phone down with clear disgust. “Ugh. I hate that you’re right.”

“I’ll never let you down,” Tucker offered, very seriously. “I’m always right.”

Sam pulled the blanket back down over him until he squawked in indignation.

“Okay,” Sam’s voice came in muffled through their blanket barrier. “Maybe we can both hold off on names until we decide how we’re doing this, exactly.”

This, of course, being their new life on the run— ideally, taking down the GIW and their hold on Amity Park, or in the short run, cutting and ditching in every effort to not get captured. Their plan so far wasn’t much better than “wait for Danny to get home from Space Camp”, but, you know…needs are as they must. Or something.

“How about Cryptid?” Tucker offered, poking his head out of his blanket hovel. His glasses were…somewhere, but no matter where he groped for them, his hands still came up empty. “Short. Simple. Lots of hard consonants. Easy to muddy up in an internet search with other information. They’d be looking for you and find, like, the Entfield Horror.”

Sam gave that thought its due while Tucker found his glasses. “It’s…better than Inviso-Bill for sure.”

Okay, that one was worth the laugh.

“You could try Technomage,” Sam tried out in turn. "It would be like naming a snake 'snake', since you’re going through magical puberty or whatever, but…”

Tucker snorted. Magical puberty.

…But.

She’d been the first to notice when Tucker hadn’t even needed to touch Edna (PDA of the month) to write her new programs in class. She’d taped over his stylus to prove it to him— and Tucker hadn’t even noticed with the weight of a phantom stylus in his hand as he coded telepathically. Realizing he hadn’t been tapping any of the buttons had been. Spooky.

His phone didn’t need a SIM card anymore. He was saving his family a lot on outgoing and ingoing calls, apparently, and the reported number of texts they’d had to pay for was a big fat goose egg.

Also, he was pretty sure someone was emailing him at the moment.

…He wasn’t sure how he knew. But. It kind of tasted like blue raspberry. It was probably Danny’s sister.

So. Um. the magical puberty thing hadn’t been too off track. It had certainly been less subtle than Sam’s newfound ability to speak with plants, but…at least talking to your flowerpots looks normal from the outside looking in.

Apparently lawn mowing day at school gave Sam real trauma, though. Finding her in the nurses’ office with her head buried under her denim jacket had been scary.

“Better than nothing,” Tucker begrudgingly agreed. He left his glasses wherever they were; he’d find them in the morning. “I mean. We technically don’t even need names. If we just start breaking their stuff, they’ll probably name us anyway.”

Sam laughs. The green on her face is gone; she likely wiped her mask off when Tucker couldn’t see. “With you hacking their stuff?”

“And you growing your freaky vines out of their gear,” Tucker added. “The…what’s the one. The one that ate that one house?”

Sam leans her head down onto Tucker’s mattress. Her clean, damp face swims into view. “Oh. The kudzu?”

“Uh huh.”

“Yeah, I can cultivate that— not here, since it grows so fast. Did you know Kudzu’s supposed to be eaten? People usually take it off the roadside in China for an easy food source. That’s why it overtakes so much stuff here: there’s no one taking on the role of its natural predator.”

Huh. Well, sounded like something Sam would know. Tucker wedged his pillow further underneath his head; Sam’s still had some goop on it, so he gave her his extra blanket instead.

Sam stuffed it underneath her head with no issue. Without her purple lip and filled in brows, she just looked like Sam— just like a girl in his class, who wanted to make the world a better place, and didn’t know how to do it.

Tucker wanted to do better too.

But they wouldn’t do it alone. They’d be better off with Danny than without.

“All we have to do is make it until Danny comes back. And then we can reconvene.”

…And then what?

“And then?” Tucker asked, a little too quiet.

Sam had never backed down from a challenge. She never would. “And then we kick ass.”

Well. When she said that, it was all so simple.

The lights clicked out in the greenhouse, and just in time— the outside started to burst with light and sound as agents tore up the road outside the Manson property.

The door was locked. The daisies at the door and the wispy strings-of-hearts would give them more than enough warning if the agents swept through.

It was bedtime, or good enough as.

Sleep wasn’t restful, but the quality of the night didn’t matter; it only had to get them to the next day.

#phic phight 2024 #danny phantom #Phic phight #tucker foley #Sam Manson #ambiguous timeline when they're on the run from the GIW! 🎉 #Danny's fine he's just out of town #'where' space camp. he's on a break #giw as a bad guy with local regulatory power #fill

[ghostboybrainrot]

Out of Touch Part 4

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, AO3

TW: Mild gore, mentions of blood, mentions of gun violence

_________________________

Danny was vaguely aware that someone was trying to tuck him in. He'd been fading in and out of consciousness since he'd stopped to rest. At first, he figured he must be dreaming. Nobody tucked him into bed anymore. He was a 16 year old not a toddler. But it was nice that someone cared. He didn't want to encourage this behavior though so he pretended not notice.

It wasn't until he heard the crinkling of plastic and the shuffling of cardboard that his sleep-deprived brain registered something was off.

His bed did usually have plastic in it. He wasn't in his bed. He tried to remember. He was in Gotham. He had been flying toward his apartment. But he was having a hard time holding his ghost form and then-

Oh shit.

His eyes shot open.

Hovering over him, was the pale image of a woman. 

He yelped and tried to jump back, realizing too late that he was backed against the wall.

“It’s okay!” She backed up as soon as she saw the boy start to stir. She put her hands out in front of her in a calming gesture.

“I’m trying to help. I’m sorry I startled you.”

Danny was only vaguely aware the woman was speaking. His attention had been captured by the very realistic bullet hole in the woman’s forehead. A trickle of blood was frozen mid-decent on the woman’s face. He shuddered, imagining what the back of her head must look like.

His mind was still fuzzy from exhaustion. It took a moment to realize what he was looking at. It was a shade. A shade of a woman who had been shot to death.

Well, that was a relief. Shades didn’t pose much of a threat. Unless of course they scared you to death.

He looked down at himself. He had a blanket draped over him. Had that been there before? No. No, he definitely didn’t have that when he had curled up. He looked back at the woman, her words finally registering in his sleep-addled brain.

“Uh…thanks?” He pulled himself into a more upright position, scooting his back against the wall. He brought his hands up and rubbed his eyes. When he felt a little more awake he looked around the alley. It didn’t look like anyone else was around. He noticed the bottle of water and the plastic package lying next to him on the ground. Then he looked at her, eyebrows furrowed. As if he wasn’t sure what he was supposed to do with them.

“Go ahead.” She encouraged. “You looked like you needed them.”

Danny was hungry and thirsty. It was true. He wasn’t sure when the last time he ate was but he knew it had been much longer than was healthy for his living body. He grabbed at the bottle. His hands were shaking slightly. He opened it carefully, not wanting to waste any of it by spilling. As soon as the neck of the bottle was safely against his lips he drained it quickly. He let out a satisfied gasp when he finished. Needing to catch his breath.

He dropped the bottle then reached for the pastry. The clenching in his stomach had eased up slightly after drinking the cool water but he still was feeling slightly nauseous from hunger. He knew he’d feel better if he ate but forcing himself to chew and swallow was a chore. His body had been without food for too long and he feared it would reject it. Fortunately, he was able to keep a couple small bites down. He folded the plastic over the rest of the pastry and put it in his hoodie pocket.

“Thanks.” He croaked but his throat was less raspy now.

“Happy to help.” She smiled nervously, and glanced around.

“I don’t mean to alarm you but you didn’t pick the best spot to hole up in. This is a dangerous part of town.”

Danny laughed harshly.

“No kidding.” He snapped sarcastically. “I’ll take that into consideration next time I’m falling out of the sky.”

The woman winced. Hurt and embarrassed. Danny felt a twinge of guilt for snapping.

“I’m sorry.” He said softly. “Just a little on edge. I know what you meant. But, unfortunately-”

He gestured to his injured leg.

“-I’m not really equipped to find a better spot.”

“I could find something!” She added hopefully. “I have a friend near here that I think could help.”

Danny glanced at her with a pitying look. He didn’t want to ask, but he had to.

“Is your friend… you know. Still around?”

The woman looked insulted.

“If you mean ALIVE. Yes. She is alive.”

“Sorry.” Danny at least had the good graces to look embarrassed.

“Not everyone in your situation is as aware as you. I promise I’m not trying to offend.”

He sighed.

“I really appreciate the help. But I’m very close to my apartment. I think I’d have a better chance getting there safely than trying to get to wherever your friend is.”

“You live near here?” She asked skeptically.

“Well, yeah. Not exactly legally. But it's safe.”

“Okay.” She started to reach for the boy. Extending her hand for him to grab.

“Okay?” He sounded confused.

“Yes, O.K. Let’s get you home.”

Danny wasn’t sure whether to accept her help or not. She seemed determined, that was for sure. And she had brought him supplies. No easy feet for a shade. Most wouldn’t have been able to hold on long enough to complete a task that took that long. Whatever had driven her to help him must have been pretty strong. She was present. Focused. Every other shade he’d encountered in this city, forgot about him the moment he was out of their line of sight. They weren’t unkind. Just distracted. Their minds, or what was left of them, lingered in the past. The moments of lucidity were few and far between. And just as fleeting.

This woman was solid. She took up space. She knew where she was and what she was doing. It was honestly impressive. Gotham had more ambient ectoplasm than most cities but not nearly enough to sustain a shade to this extent. This was one strong-willed ghost.

“What’s your name?”

“Martha.”

He nodded and smiled.

“Danny.”

He reached out and took hold of her hand.

_________________

Notes:

Here’s the second part of that chapter! Sorry for the wait. I haven’t abandoned it yet I promise! Just been a busy couple of weeks. If you like the fic so far please leave a comment! I love Martha she’s just trying her best. Being dead is hard lol

Thanks for reading!

Tags:

@alinmenttreasure @quirky-gardener @mnemovoid @amercurio @may-rbi @allmune @i-havenothingelsetopost @kittenline @alienzil @depuffstuff @thegatorsgoose @flamey-comet @paper-enigma @that-awkward-fae-nerd @keimiwolf @ectoplasm024 @oddlydrawnpuppets @coffeeandcrown @analusikzz @quirky-gardener @seraphinedemort @v-inari @catmaraudersfan @icedbluesoul @spookytragedyshark @freakofyournature @rhyme-is-sublime @introvert-even-on-the-internet @cutelittlebeanie @chubbypotato @jackalspine @magicaldaydreams @riverdancingwerewolves @tabetharasa @imagineshazamlokimight @avelnfear @mouzerequis @idfk-man10 @nervousperfectionandroid @thefearfullone @mentalcarebear @strawberryfire17 @valiantsuitcaseskellington @theywontletmeusetheoneiwant @ineeesleep @dracotheghostdragon @allmune @liandrin

#danny phantom #danny fenton #dp x dc crossover #dp x dc #dc x dp #dc x dp fic #my fics #out of touch fic #gotham #danny phantom is AuDHD #martha wayne #i love her your honor #she is doing her best

[pokenimagines]

NSFW Volo | Fic | Idk if this is too vague but can I get something with Volo lovingly bullying and teasing his SO and they get fed up and turn the tables on him?

This is pre mental breakdown on Volo's part, so enjoy. Also ehem...kabedon...KABEDON!

Warning: This is NSFW so if you’re under the legal age or uncomfortable with content like this, please skip over this one! Content Warning: Dry Humping, Thigh Riding, Teasing, Kabedon

Rules | Discord Server (16+)

NSFW Volo: How the Turn Tables

Volo was, essentially, a charming asshole. He loved getting a rise out of you whenever he could. Just last week he had pulled you into his chest to help you "dodge" a wild pokemon. It was a Bidoof that was running around your legs. The entire thing had you flushed red as you tried stammering out a reply. Then he had the audacity to ask if you were running a fever and placed his forehead directly on yours to feel. You swore you could've fainted from just that alone.

Then yesterday, he was eating with you and noticed you had something on your hand. Volo grabbed your hand and licked a little bit of sauce off it before kissing the palm. You had frozen for a few minutes, not knowing what to do with this as he let you go. He then again tried to act concerned at your frozen state before commenting that you looked cute with a blush on your face.

Volo was slowly killing you, and you had no idea what to do about it. That's when you recalled something from back in your own world. A small trend that had circulated on a particular app, that you had a feeling would get a rise out of him. You had it all planned out as you waited for the next time for Volo to be in town.

It was late at night when you spotted him, sitting down by the cart, since Ginter had already retired to bed. This meant that poor Volo was having to deal with the night duty of watching the cart. Not that he had much to do since the village was relatively peaceful, so he just sat there and enjoyed the midnight air.

Everyone else in the village was asleep except for a few guards, but from where Volo was sitting it was a bit out of sight. So you walked over and crouched down in front of Volo, getting the man's attention.

"Ah, there you are...need to do a bit of shopping?" Volo asked, tilting his head with a smirk on his face. You chuckled and shook your head in response.

"Nah, I got the next day off, so I planned on relaxing...then I saw you and wanted to say hello." You said, pretending like you weren't going to do anything.

"And what did I do to deserve such an honor?" he asked, placing a hand over his chest.

"You were being you...however earlier today I was thinking about a trend that used to be big where I came from. Wanna see what it is? It's kinda like a game." You explained and Volo had his interest piqued.

"A game, from another world? You've peaked my curiosity." he said with a smile, sitting up a bit more, "Show me, please."

"Alright, so first you get both hands and entwine your fingers and make a fist with them both." You said, demonstrating it. Volo looked a bit untrusting as he did so, having a folded prayer hand pose, "Perfect, now you just stick your fingers up." You said, once again demonstrating.

Volo did so and the moment he did, you took your own hand and trapped his fingers in your grasp. You then pinned his arms above his head while you leaned closer to him. Your body was almost on top of his as you looked down at him. The position was something that you'd consider embarrassing, but the light blush on Volo's cheeks were worth it. You stuck out your tongue as you looked at him.

"I gotcha~" You sang, loving your mini victory over the man. Volo blinked owlishly at you as he processed what was doing on. Then he smirked, raising a knee and placing it between your legs.

"Are you so sure about that...you know you shouldn't start things you can't finish, especially not out in the open." Volo said, whispering the last part, as he leaned his face to be right against your ear. He blew some cool air into your ear, making you squeak and letting his hands go. You went to back up, but felt his hand wrapping around your hip as he dragged you to his lap.

"The guards never come by this area, you know." Volo said, his leg going between your leg as he pressed up against your sex. You groaned at the small amount of friction he was giving you. Your hips going to grind down on him as you tried getting more.

You covered your mouth, loving his Volo continuously rubbed his leg between your thighs, giving you just enough friction to drive you insane, "V-Volo...shouldn't be go somewhere else...?" You tried to fight back another groan as he placed his hands against your hips and pushed you further down onto him.

He relaxed his leg, sitting you down properly on his thigh now, "You were the one who started this...you do realize how crazy I am for you, right?" Volo said in your ear, moving your hips along his thigh and making you whimper. You knew he was a tease, but you didn't realize he wanted you enough to have you ride his thigh in plain sight. If someone looked out their window, they'd easily be able to see what was going on.

"D-didn't realize it w-was to this extent..." You said, panting as you felt a warm coil in your lower stomach.

"I know you're not dumb...but you might be a little dense." he said, taking one of your hands and placing it over his crotch. You could feel his erection straining through the fabric of his guild pants. You gasped at the size, realizing his cock was a bit larger then you thought; it shouldn't be too surprising judging by how tall Volo was.

You hesitantly ran your hand over his erection, rubbing his through the clothes. Volo bit his lip as he shook his thigh a bit, sending an almost vibration like feeling through you. You cursed under your breath, squeezing your eyes shut as you tried grinding against him some more.

"S-so good, Volo...almost there." You said, bucking your hips against his thigh. You didn't care if you were about to cum in your pants in the middle of the damn village, you were too horny and worked up to think things through. Volo chuckled at your desperate and needy expressions as you tried getting off on his thigh alone.

Then, like a fire coursing through you, the tension snapped inside of you. You had to bite down on your free hand in order to stop from making noises and alerting the entire village as to what you were doing. You groaned into your hand, trying to steady yourself with a few years in your eyes.

Volo bucked his hips into your hand before hissing. He grabbed your wrist and took you off him, "But you didn't finish...did you?" You said between short pants.

"As much as I'd love to, I have to be here for the rest of the night; I'd rather not make a mess in my pants." he admitted. HIs erection was almost painful, but he could probably manage. It was better than sitting in his own cum until the sun came up.

"You sure...we could go to my house or...?" You said, looking around, "I could uh...no it might be too public." You murmured the last part.

"Oh, what's on your mind?" Volo asked, already having an inkling.

"I could...suck you off..." You said, feeling bashful. Volo chuckled as he brought you down for a quick kiss.

"How naughty...but if you insist; we just have to be quiet about it. Wouldn't want a guard coming over and seeing my cock halfway down your throat." Now that had you shivering.

•❅──────✧❅✦❅✧──────❅• Thank you for reading! Did you know we have a discord? It has everything from RPs, General Discussions, and even an 18+ area to go hog wild in! We even do announcements early for when the inbox is opening for requests, as well as other events! Come in and join us!

#Pokemon PLA #Pokemon Legends of Arceus #Legends of Arceus #Pokemon PLA x reader #Pokemon Legends or Arceus x reader #Legends of Arceus x reader #Pokemon PLA fanfic #Pokemon Legends of Arceus fanfic #Legends of Arceus fanfic #Volo x reader #Volo #Pokemon Volo #Reader x Volo #Volo Fic #Volo Fanfic #Pokemon Volo x Reader

[beelmons]

No one is as hot, happy, or cool as Instagram shows, some people are bald

Genre: Fluff Pairing: Spencer Reid x BAU!Fem!Reader CW: None Series: Part of Technophobe in Recovery Summary: Your friend Spencer didn't really understand social media, until he found out that it could be used to hit on people, more specifically to hit on you. Perhaps if he had a profile you would look his way?

Social media is a narcissist’s crack, at least that’s what Spencer always thought. There are so many ways of keeping communication, what’s the point of plastering every detail of your life for the world to see? As FBI agents, the entire team knew to thread carefully when it came to public profiles. Of course, all of you kept it light, without giving locations away, and taking every precaution Penelope had told you to take.

—He liked your picture?! —Penelope screamed from your behind. She had sneaked up on you and caught a sight of your phone to see the username of a very popular S.W.A.T. member on the “liked by…” section of your Instagram.

—First of all, ouch. —you joked, pretending like her scream hurt your ear—and second, he didn’t only like the picture, he is in my DMs right now asking about my day.

—You go, girlfriend—Emily joined as her and JJ got closer.

The not-so-subtle scream from Garcia had gathered everyone’s attention, and shortly there after the familiar faces that walked the ballpen had gathered around you.

—Whoa, baby girl, what’s all the commotion about? —Morgan asked once him and Reid had joined the rest of your coworkers by your side, his hand instinctively reaching for Penelope’s shoulders.

—Miss hot and smokey right here. —she pointed in your direction— The super-hot SWAT captain from last raid just liked her picture on Instagram and slid into her DMs.  

—I think this is the first time I’ve been in a conversation where I don’t understand a single word. —Spencer had furrowed his eyebrows in plain confusion— Is that a good thing?

—It’s like a modern version of a mating call, Spence, you like someone’s picture to capture their attention, let them know you are interested, and then message them privately to see where things go. —JJ explained in the young doctor’s direction.

As everyone’s attention went back to your phone, Spencer found the perfect opportunity to swallow down the knot that had formed on his throat. Never could he have guessed that from all the people you were surrounded by, decorated officers, top-of-the-field lawyers, fellow elite FBI agents, the one person he had to worry about was trapped in the rectangular gadget he hated the most.

Not that the team knew, they suspected yet he had never admitted to it, but Spencer liked you. He wasn’t the one to act on his crushes almost ever, he liked when things developed naturally, which apparently was not going to be the case with you now that “super-hot-swat-captain” was “sliding into your DMs”, whatever that meant.

—You guys are making it a bigger deal than it is. —you tried to shut down the chatter in the office— He hasn’t even asked me out, just asking random questions.

—Come on, you don’t talk to someone on Instagram to make friends. —Morgan affirmed.

—And you look good good ok that picture. —JJ added.

The statement made Reid stick out his neck, he wanted to catch a glimpse of what everyone else what admiring; in his eyes, you always looked good, what could be so special about that one pic— Oh. He could feel the heat on his face spreading through every corner of his head, and some other places to the south he was doing his best to avoid; the way the lighting was ideal to your face, the pose that highlighted the best features of your body, and an outfit he could tell made you the most confident. A whole other person that he seemed not to know, and yet prayed in his very soul he could, at least, get the chance to one day.

Reid cleared his throat as he noticed everyone, specially Morgan, staring a bit too long, and with embarrassment he headed back to his office. The traces of the smile he had earlier in the morning were long gone, his serious expression taking over instead, with a slight furrow on his brows. He grabbed a random file as he walked to his desk and pretended to work intently in wrapping up some paperwork.

—Okay, that’s enough. —not being used to such praise and attention to your private life, you snatched the device away from Penelope whom, at some point, had gotten her hands on it— We’re not snooping on my love life right now, there’s tons of paperwork to do and the next case could come at any time.

The team reluctantly left your work area, not before threateningly asking for updates whenever you got one, and you were free from their questions once again. On the corner of your eye you were able to notice a rather sulky Spencer sitting on his desk, his troubled expression not going unnoticed by the rest of the team as well, to any stranger it would look like your average agent on the job, but to those who knew him was obvious, and boy, did you not know him.

You decided to disobey your own advice and visit his station instead, you leaned over the furniture with a concerned expression and he looked up questioningly, as if your presence was not required.

—Spence, you good? —you asked amicably.

—Sure, I’m fine. —his answer was quick and apparently emotionless—Got a lot to do, though.

Without giving you a chance to speak any further his sight went back to the file in his hands. You muttered a tired “okay” and headed back to your desk to finally get to work. The feeling of having done something wrong didn’t go away for a while, even if strictly you had made no mistake. You liked Spencer, and you figured you had left enough clues for him to pick up on them, but so far he hadn’t made the first move, and you were beginning to think perhaps he just wasn’t interested, after all, you were the first one to volunteer whenever he offered an extra ticket to his obscure events, and there’s no way he didn’t notice the creeping blush on your ears that one time he would mutter live translations during the Korean film festival.

On his side, he was only pretending to read and type on the computer, he wasn’t able to concentrate at all. Would you maybe take interest in him if he liked your every picture? If he wrote you a DM even if he still didn’t quite know what that meant? If he posted shirtless pictures occasionally? Or showed off his tactical gun? Hold on, those thoughts were getting too specific. Without even noticing, he had landed on the SWAT captain’s profile. He knew how to vaguely navigate profiles thanks to Garcia, but any further than that was a mystery for him. He couldn’t help to feel like this guy was a little pretentious, absolutely not the kind of man you deserved, or even would like; Penelope was right, you can know a lot about someone thanks to their social media.

—Stalking the competition? —Derek’s voice scared Spencer out of his wits.

His fingers quickly hit the close button on the browser, and he jolted upwards. When he realized the weight of the words said to him he nervously looked around, thankfully you were nowhere close to a hearing range, to his relief.

—Just curious, that’s all. —he said in a lower voice as he rubbed one of his eyes.

—I get it, kid, —Morgan offered a handsome smile and a supportive pat on the shoulder— social media can sometimes be the source of lots of negative feelings, it’s not a perfect tool, but it’s fun. You don’t have to worry, chicks love your old-school techniques too, you just have to, you know, actually use them on a girl for them to work. —he signaled with his head as you walked from Hotch’s office, where you had been discussing details of a report with the Unit Chief, to the office’s kitchen—And, sometimes, an “I’m sorry I was a jackass to you” goes a longer way than any like on a picture.

Spencer watched carefully as you made your way through the ballpen, he was the body language and microexpressions expert, he knew you were feeling down and, guiltily, he was the reason behind that. Without answering his friend he skipped from his seat towards the entrance you had just walked by. As magic, and as usual, the second he was in front of you any other logical thought seemed to disappear from his brain, you had that effect on him.

—Hey. —he said, you answered with a slight smile and turned in his direction— I just wanted to apologize for being so dismissive earlier.

—That’s fine, Reid. —you answered with a swatting of your hand— Sorry I upset you.

—No, you… —he sighed and looked down at his feet— you didn’t upset me, sometimes I just have a hard time understanding modernity, and it can get very overwhelming.

—We know, we know. —you reached over to squeeze his arm reassuringly, and he could have sworn his heart was going to jump out of his chest.

—I just don’t get the point of it all.

—Well, there isn’t really much a point. For a lot of people it’s a source of pride and vanity, sure, but some of us just want to share pieces of our lives to those we love the most.

—And that includes sexy SWAT captains? —he asked in a tone that seemed to be smaller than the rest of his sentence.

—The people you love the most, and some other randos, too. —you corrected with a small laugh, not wanting to even pay attention to the SWAT captain, since truth was you weren't interested— It can also be a great way to make sure you don’t lose important memories.

—Important memories don’t just get lost. —he joked.

—Not everyone has eidetic memory, Spencer. —you shook your head and reached into your back pocket to take a hold of your phone, your profile still open on the picture that had gotten him so excited before which you quickly tapped away to scroll through your posts—Like, look at this one, this is a picture of Rossi’s carbonara.

—You could get that any time.

—Yes, but what if I transfer or quit? I want to be able to remember that I used to have this amazing food with you guys. —you scrolled a bit further— Oh, this one is from Hotch’s birthday, when we surprised him by bringing Jack to the office, that was fun. This is a trip I took with my family. That’s a cute cat I saw on the street, nothing worth noting but surely worth keeping.

As you kept going down your posts your lips curled into a bigger smile. Memories were nice, they were fun, especially the ones you liked to share, they brought you joy and warmth, and he noticed, in fact, that’s all he could look at, the bright smile on your face as you reminisced. He wondered if, maybe, you would smile the same when remembering him, perhaps years from now, or during lazy weekends, on a random Thursday, when the fragrance of his cologne seemed to linger in the air, in a similar way he was used to thinking of you.

—Hey, that’s me! —he said excitedly when he noticed a picture you had posted months ago of the two of you together.

—Oh, yes! This is when we went to that event, what was its name? Like lollapalooza but for books.

—Litepalooza. —he added

—Right, it was so lame we decided to leave and go have something to drink, we ended up in that Mexican coffee shop where we tried the... Spicy Hot Chocolate!

—Spicy hot chocolate!

The screaming of the name came out of your mouths at the same time and it was followed by a loud laugh. On the caption it read “Awesome days, awesome friends.” and a heart emoji following. Most of your pictures were of other people, or other objects, or by yourself, as far as he could tell he was the only person, outside your family, to appear on a picture alone with you. The mere fact that he felt special for it made him feel ridiculous.

—Your lips were red the rest of the day. —you let out a final chuckle— It’s not so bad. Think of it as a digital scrapbook. I know, I know, you are not big on digitalizing things, but not everyone is crafty enough to make one!

—When you put it like that, yeah, it doesn’t sound so bad.

You took a second to look into his eyes, and you could have sworn that your suspicions of him not being interested were wrong. Before making it awkward he hit you with a soft “let’s head back”, to which you complied.

The rest of the day went by pretty fast, before you knew it was time to head back home, thank god, serial killers had taken a weekend off and you didn’t have to travel for a case on Friday. You didn’t have any plans, so a night in it was. Before you headed out you made sure to stop by Spencer’s desk and he let you know that he had something to do before heading home and you should go back first.

The appointment in question was with no other than Penelope Garcia herself. Spencer shyly slipped past the door of her office after knocking on it almost ashamedly.

—What can I do for you, boy wonder? —she asked, spinning her particular pink furry pen in her hand.

—I was wondering…—he began to explain—could you maybe help me create an Instagram profile?

—Do my ears deceive me? —she asked with an astonished expression—Spencer Reid, are you sick?

—No, I feel fine. —he answered earnestly and a little puzzled, unaware of the undertone.

—Then this must be a miracle! You have come to the right place my child, we are going to make the most irresistible profile ever!

—Wait, before we start… —he interrupted the girl’s clicking and she looked at him expectantly—Can you tell me what does a DM stand for? Has been bugging me all day to not know.

—Oh, boy genius, your analog brain is thirty, but your digital brain is five.

With her snarky remark, the both of them got to work.

You kept turning on your bed as you watched a random, very uninteresting, show on Netflix. Your night in, regardless of it being what you needed, was boring to the core. You didn’t think your night was going to pick up until you saw the screen of your phone light up with a notification. A very odd username caught your attention enough to skim through them.

[Instagram] dr.sreid started following you

[Instagram] dr.sreid liked your photo

[Instagram] dr.sreid liked your photo

[Instagram] dr.sreid: Hey, guess what?

You bit your lip in attempt to not look like an absolute clown with the wideness of your smile. Hurriedly, you unlocked the device and headed to the pretentious social media app.

You : No fucking way.

You : How did you even manage to make one?

dr.sreid : Garcia helped me.

dr.sreid : Is it too weird?

You : A little. But it’s nice seeing you adapt to modernity.

dr.sreid : I still have no idea how to use this properly, I also don’t understand what’s the difference between this and texting.

You : Jesus, this must be killing you.

You : Hold on, I’ll follow you back and call you instead, enough dm-ing for today, I gotta give you a break.

dr.sreid : I have no idea what you just said, but sure.

You laughed at his confusion, regardless of his genius brain he hated familiarizing himself with technology, and he could learn about it pretty easily, but he just didn’t enjoy it in the minimum. You headed to his profile as you promised, he had followed 6 people, Morgan, Rossi’s official writer account, JJ, Garcia, of course it was the first account he followed, Emily Prentiss, and you. The profile picture was an impromptu photo of them in Garcia’s office, since he barely kept pics around in his phone, and his only post was an old picture taken on your birthday by Penelope herself, both of you unaware that it even existed. In it, he was struggling against you trying to smear his face with buttercream, his hands on your wrists, and both of your smiles the biggest you had ever since, the caption read “Favorite picture, favorite person.” with a heart emoji following. You couldn’t put a name on the way it made you feel, but the butterflies in your stomach were giving you a hint, you followed him back, liked the picture, and dialed his number. You couldn’t go a second without hearing his voice.

The next day at work you would get an earful about having ghosted the SWAT captain, and the only thing that replaced the outrageous news about your love life was the realization that Spencer had, in fact, made an Instagram account. After some teasing and internal jokes, the office went back to normal.

Spencer would only post a picture every couple of months when a special occasion arose, by the request of his friends, and when Penelope managed to get his hands on his phone. However, from that day on, he was the very first person to like whatever photo you were to post.

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid/reader #spencer x reader #spencer x you #spencer reid x you #reid x you #reid x reader #criminal minds #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fan fic #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds fan fic #TIR

[secretgamergirl]

Thinking About How We Talk

This is one of those subjects I bring up now and then where it feels like I'm lighting a match to inspect some powder kegs. So right up front let me say this is NOT going to be a post where I'm going to actively police the language you use, talk at all about George Orwell, or be some sort older out of touch person who just doesn't understand how younger generations talk. This is all about encouraging personal reflection, considering word choices, inoculating yourself against nasty rhetorical tactics, and history lessons here.

And before I do the whole cut thing I also want to get into a real obvious example of why all this is important. In the last couple of years, people have finally been catching up to this, but for the vast majority of my life, everyone was bafflingly cool with calling the extremists with such a hard-core anti-abortion stance they'd gleefully push policies where people were forced into definitely-a-stillbirth situation which additionally posed a serious risk to their lives and engaged in full on terrorism against people performing abortions or even just potentially pointing people towards the right resources, in a full on bombs and mass shootings in doctor's offices sort of way. And aside from just the disgusting hypocrisy involved in that, this language control was actually effective enough that a huge number of people with pretty reasonable thoughts like "well obviously I don't have a say in what other people do, but I think if I ended up pregnant, even if it wasn't a planned thing, I'd go ahead and have that baby" thought that that meant they were "pro-life" and shouldn't oppose people claiming to be such. That's the sort of terrible situation you get when you just kinda roll with the language shifts total monsters push for.

That's a real grim note to start this off on, so let me dial it back a little. As you may or may not know, just about 10 years ago now, my life went down kind of a weird road where I suddenly found myself spending basically all my time monitoring and combating really hardcore far right extremist groups and their various pushes to mainstream their garbage. The most prominent example of this was the whole Gamergate thing, and the less-publicized string of similar 4chan "ops" where a bunch of creeps from this weird insular pile of misanthropic nazis would do their best to disguise themselves as normal functioning human beings and subtley spread their hateful crap. This was obviously awful in so many ways, but on a certain level it was kind of hilarious because the vast majority of these people were just completely incapable of speaking like normal human beings. They'd be pretending to be concerned housewives or black civil rights activists but still pepper everything with 4chan post signifiers, talking about "cucks" and "fags" and doing the whole bit of ">be me >walk into a walmart >see some SJW talking about mysoggyknees >puke" and whatnot. You could spot them from miles away and see right through them. TERFs of course still work on this level, trying to talk to normal people and rambling about "TIMs" and "large gametes" and "adult human females" and all that.

Now eventually, by and large, they've gotten steadily better at masking this crap. There's some terms and typing styles that have generally dropped off, there's a lot of weird coded phrases they use now that couple plausibly come from the mouths of normal people, but more than anything else, they made this HUGE push years back to infest the hell out of youtube and other websites with a lot of unattended impressionable children. They'd do things like ramble about Minecraft and... whatever else it was 12 year olds were really into around 2015 or so, and subtly pepper in their weird rhetoric, terminology, and conspiracy theories, trying to indoctrinate kids too young to know better, and frankly they made pretty good inroads. I don't know that they were super effective at turning that many kids into full on nazis, but they did a great job of normalizing a bunch of jargon and they at least messed with kids values enough for them to age into the sort of witch-hunting weirdos you see all over Tumblr here just itching to bun people at the stake for being too sex positive or whatever other weird arbitrary reason.

Now, I don't like this because I can no longer look at someone talking about "Chads" and "cucking" and such and know without the slightest doubt that that's one of those hardcore fascist creeps talking, which bugs me but, ow well, damage done. But also, you know, words mean things. You really can influence someone's thought patterns by encouraging trends in their vocabularies. Cults know this, that's why they're so keen on actually policing the hell out of how members talk, getting them to only express certain concepts in certain ways and all, so they don't ever question certain baseline assumptions and whatnot. And that still applies when you freely choose to adopt certain language.

This isn't always a huge problem. Hardcore nazis talk about "Chads" all the time as part of this super messed up offshoot of pickup artistry where there are inherently superior "Chads" that whatever woman you're hoping to manipulate into banging you are always going to pick over you, the wannabe pickup artist loser, because ultimately women are awful contemptible things incapable of seeing your best qualities, and when you go down that rabbit hole far enough people push you into going on killing sprees in hope of the government being brought to their knees and forcing women to ignore their Chad preference and date people like you under penalty of imprisonment or something. Super messed up, but as that one got mainstreamed it seems to have distorted a bit into a general (and maybe even gender neutral) term for someone cool you should try to emulate.

Then you have terms like "cuck" getting mainstreamed. That's a word that just DID NOT EXIST in the popular consciousness until about a decade ago. It was a thing previously, but only in specialized porn circles. It's short of "cuckold," this odd antiquated term, where you have this specific scenario where some white guy walks in on his wife or girlfriend having sex with a particularly physically impressive black man, and just kind of blubbers impotently as she brags about how impressive the new guy is. I assume it caught on with the general public because ha ha, the nazis are identifying with this loser in this obscure porn fetish. Meanwhile for the nazis this is total propaganda for all their garbage about "the great replacement theory" and general threat posed by black men and the concept of women being property to be defended and all that crap, and like... that's just inherently what the concept is here? You can't deploy "cuck" as an insult without at least SOME buy-in to, at the very least, some of that idea of women showing any sort of sexual interest in other people is a sign of failure on behalf of some guy who on at leas some level owns them and needs to defend their property from others and that's just a really messed up world view to enforce? Particularly when you're doing so as an alternative to just calling some pathetic loser a pathetic loser, or any number of other things that get that same point across.

Worse than that though? Cringe. To cringe is to physically recoil in instinctive disgust as an involuntary reaction to something profoundly terrifying or unpleasant. Like opening the door to a closet and having a wall of maggots suddenly collapse down from behind it or something. Fascists love to use this to describe the various sorts of human beings they intensely dislike and want to exterminate. "I can't articulate just what it is about just seeing this queer person existing in public that makes me shudder in revulsion, and that's cool because I love not thinking about my reactions and just acting on them" basically. And when someone who isn't a fascist refers to someone or something as "cringe" they... also mean it in exactly that fashion. The whole concept behind turning the word into an adjective like this is to externalize personal feelings of disgust and turn them into some objective flaw in the source, rather than analyze why you feel that way. It's really just not a concept you should have ANY term for, let alone this specific one. Like it's fine to be disgusted by someone, but you should always be able to clearly articulate why you feel that way. Like, say, "ugh, look at these disgusting losers who set up a whole message board just to stalk a bunch of random queer people. Could you ever imagine having such an inability to find joy in anything that that would seem like the best way to spend your time?" That's totally fine. But if you're ever in a situation where you're disgusted by someone and can't put a finger on why? There's some chance you're being groomed into irrationally hating people over some signifier they're a member of a group hate groups want wiped out. So you know, maybe strongly consider just dropping that one from your vocabulary?

Or how about the real big obvious one, "woke?" I feel like out of all of these, this is the one people are most likely to toss around without really thinking about what it actually means. So history lesson! Back in 2014 there was this absolutely horrific incident where a cop absolutely brutally murdered a child who was walking down the street in Ferguson, Missouri. Shot him six times, in front of a good number of witnesses. When questioned on it spouted off some absolutely WILD BS about him having superpowers, being a demon, and "bulking up" when shot. These are actual quotes, I want to be clear. Not only did he face no actual repercussions for this, he wasn't even charged with a crime, and there was a rather profoundly large number of people in law enforcement lining up to back up this murderer's story that he absolutely had to completely unload his gun into an unarmed child with hands over his head in the head to keep him from using his demonic super strength to tear him limb from limb.

Being such an astonishingly clear cut example of... this thing that cops are constantly doing to black children all over the country and all, there was a good deal of press coverage and protesting over this, and for a VERY brief period, maybe a month or two? People who were on the scene being terrorized by shockingly militarized police while they tried to hold candlelight vigils for this murdered child were referring to themselves as "woke." As in "this incident woke me up to the fact that racist cops really do have complete institutional protection any time they feel like straight up murdering an innocent child like this." Right wing monsters didn't quite immediately co-opt the term. There was a bit of workshopping from the more media savvy/TV show hosting far right types, particularly this whole embarrassing effort to try and make "black lives matter" sound in some way threatening, before they eventually settled on making "woke" into this slur that definitely and specifically does refer to "anyone who objects to police being allowed to murder innocent black children without fear of consequence" but is obfuscated enough to have some plausible deniability.

Now, I'll admit there may have been a bit of linguistic drift amongst the far right with the specific definition of the term. The edges may have blurred some on who it can be applied to, since we are talking about a crowd who relies pretty heavily on growth through emotional appeal, frowns on self-reflection, flattens terminology, and really prefer vague blanket catch-alls to targeting specific minorities because it's just easier that way. The spirit behind it has never changed at all though. It's still a declaration of seething hate and a demand for a general social status quo where it's basically OK for state agents to murder the sort of people they consider to be undesirable.

How about the usage of the term amongst people who aren't complete monsters? Well, the people who were originally self-describing themselves as "woke" stopped using it pretty damn quick, I think around the second time one of them was found with a fatal bullet wound in his chest, in his car, which was set on fire. As in more than one person protesting the whole police murdering innocent people deal was murdered in this specific ritualistic way. Serious stuff went down in Ferguson and we really should talk about it more. Then though, more recently, there are a hell of a lot of people you would maybe think should know much better who are... also tossing the word "woke" around in a sneering slur-adjacent fashion? Sometimes it's in this vague mocking contempt sort of way like "ooh, I guess this movie that just came out is 'woke' right, because there's a black woman as a major character?" Maybe more often though it's in some context of throwing people under the bus? Like, "hey, I consider myself left wing, but I'm not part of that woke crowd!" Which, you know, that's just a whole category of crap people say that should raise a red flag that they're trying to talk fascists into considering them good people before we even get into how you're actually saying you're OK with cops murdering innocent children. Again, I'm not saying you HAVE to immediately completely drop this term from your personal vocabulary, but, you know, I'd really appreciate it if you put some thought into it and whether there's a good reason you shouldn't?

For that matter, it's worth a bit of examination on how the hell this is even an issue in the first place? Like, how do people who aren't just the absolute worst pieces of human garbage constantly getting into a positon where they're talking like creeps making posts on obscure insular hate sites a decade ago? I'm pretty confident guessing it more or less always starts off with some sort of attempt at mockery. Maybe a few instances of trying to talk to people on their own level. And this all almost certainly comes from some kind of weird elitist viewpoint where people end up thinking far right monsters talk the way they do because they're stupid, unlike them, sophisticated well-educated people with refined sensibilities and a snappy sense of humor and wordplay or something.

Now... I'm not going to say that hardcore nazis AREN'T breath-takingly stupid. You have to be a pathetic loser with an extreme inferiority complex to sign up, and once you do you marinate in an echo chamber of propaganda slogans and extremely discouraged from ever taking time to really think about what you're doing or questioning anything you're told and all. That's going to dull your wit quite a bit. But here's the thing. Let's picture someone who just sits in a little shack somewhere who never talks to anyone, never reads, never thinks about anything of any sort to any degree except for forging axe-heads. He's got a forge in there, he was trained in how to do this one specific thing, it's the only thing he does, and he does it all day every day. Odds are pretty good you could beat this guy handily at any sort of battle of wits, trivia contest, philosophical discussion on the nature of humanity, etc. But I think we could all agree that it would be incredibly stupid of you to assume you could forge a better axe than this guy.

Fascists are like this, but instead of forging axe heads, the one thing they do at the expense of everything else is normalizing extreme bigotry. You're not going to beat them at the game of screwing with norms and language usage. You're not going to "own" them by using the terminology they use. You're going to internalize that hateful crap to SOME degree and poison your own thinking with it. Don't ever let them define any terms or otherwise control a conversation. Don't ever assume out of hand you have a shared understanding of what words mean with them. Really try to avoid ever speaking to them at all.

And hey, if you do make it a point like I do of being actively mindful to never use the same vocabulary as fascist pieces of garbage, and get into it with people around you who do, aside from everything else it makes it damn near impossible for any sort of cryptofascists to get a foothold trying to recruit you or mess with you (by which I mean nazis trying to hide that they're nazis not nazis trying to get you into NFTs or whatever but honestly WOW is there a lot of overlap).

All of this being said of course, I again remind you, hey, don't turn into some weird purity purging creep policing people's language. This isn't exactly an adjacent concept to what I'm talking about here. There's a pretty wide gulf. But just in case, I'm emphasizing it here. I've seen people do weird witch hunts over things like someone praising a fictional character as a good representation of someone on the autism spectrum or whatever and not liking the specific language they used to do so. Or like, hell, do I need to get into a whole sidetrack about the big campaign from TERFs to try and convince people that the word queer is a slur and try to ban queer people off sites like this one here for using it? Yeah don't have any part in that sort of crap. Just try to personally not parrot crap fascists say is all I'm getting at here.

#language #linguistics #civil rights #Ferguson #abortion

[sourbat]

Kloktober Day 1: OTP

Happy Kloktober. I'm here to start it off with the OTP.

Summary: The final day at Camp Rock-A-Roonie, and Toki can’t get his mind off his camp counselor 

Tags/warnings: one-sided magtok pining

Read below, or read on Ao3 here!

It was the final evening at Camp Rock-a-Roonie. Last night’s concert had gone without too many complications, and after Dethklok’s arrival, DVD sales of the camper’s concert were the highest they’d ever been. Most of the attendees had long since packed their musical instruments, and those who weren’t already on their way out were busy congregating with their families, eating hot dogs or chili burgers, or making the most of the remaining sunlight to catch the last of the warm rays or cool lake water. A few fans had tried making it their life’s goal to locate and get autographs from Dethklok, but aside from Toki Wartooth, most of the members had disappeared, having driven off in their tour band overnight before anyone could capitalize on the situation. 

Toki remained behind to complete the rest of his camping experience at Rock-A-Roonie. As with his usual escapades, the guys didn’t quite comprehend his reasons for wanting to stay behind, certainly not after learning about the bullying that took place throughout the weekend. Nathan had just the mind to drag Toki into the tour bus upon seeing Magnus Hammersmith, but Pickles ultimately allowed it, figuring once Toki had it out of his system, they could all move one from this stupid camp.  

With the sun beginning to set, Toki could easily conclude that he had tired of the camp. After singing a few several dozen guitars and posing with campers for photos, he was eager to call one of his servants forward and demand for them to call forth the Dethbus. The only reason he hadn’t was for one simple reason: he had yet to speak with Magnus.

After last night’s crazy events, Toki was consumed with the idea of befriending Dethklok’s ex-member. The man had selected him to be in his pretend band, protected him from Ludwig and his no-good punk friends the entire weekend, and even saved his life. It wasn't something Toki would ever forget. It was normal for everyone to be peachy with him, the famous Toki Wartooth, but Magnus had looked after him even before he removed his disguise, and once he revealed his true identity, Magnus refrained from being too clingy or uncouth. Quite the opposite, Magnus remained his usual stoic self; only now, Toki would catch him sharing a knowing smile whenever they made brief contact. What exactly it meant, Toki was still unsure. Perhaps Magnus was just as surprised as everyone else to know Toki was more than a beginning guitarist, or maybe the smile was his way of letting Toki know he wasn’t going to drool over him and ask stupid questions? Whatever the smile meant, the occasional friendly stare wasn't enough a form of communication, and with the sky darkening, Toki was increasingly more anxious to locate the old guitarist before the camp officially closed for the summer. 

He sat by the pier, watching families gather in the parking lot before driving off the campsite, and Toki counted each one off, until all that were left were a few sparse vehicles in an otherwise vacant lot. One of the klokateers approached and informed him that Nathan and the others were waiting for his word to pick him up. 

“It’s getting late, Sire.”

“Tells them I needs five more minutes.” Toki murmured out his answer as his eyes narrowed and honed on someone exiting one of the finer cabins. He studied the figure, squinting past the golden rays that were obstructing his view, and could just make out the round curves of Magnus’ guitar case. Toki brought his knees closer to his chest, and he nervously began chewing the flesh of his inner cheek as he monitored Magnus’ smooth movements. The man looked so cool just walking. Something about the bounce of his hair, the streaks of silver hairs or his belt buckle that glowed under the orange sky, the sharp contours of his face and distinct outline of his nose, and even the way his heels hit the grass,  made both Toki extra eager to speak with Magnus, but also terribly nervous. What could he possibly say to a man so confident, who had everything in the world? Silently, Toki followed Magnus’ stride, until he saw him slow and stop at an old, beat-up car. With swift movements, he unlocked and began stowing his guitar into the backseat, and Toki realized that his dreamy staring was eating away at previous time. 

He leapt from the wooden deck, pushing through his servants and picking up his pace to reach the campsite’s open field. From afar, he saw Magnus close the door to his old car to return to his cabin. So there was still time! Toki maneuvered over the deconstructing stage, jumping over pieces of metal and fixtures in order to reach the empting lot. He ran, pushing fellow campers and fans alike, until he reached the old clunker. Minutes later, he saw Magnus returning to drop off more of his personal items, and judging by the stuffed suitcase, Toki had reached him just in time. 

“Oh, hey Magnus.” Toki stopped to bring his hands down to his knees. In his hurry, he hadn’t any time to relax, much less think of something to say to the older man. One look at Magnus, and the heat from his running over failed to annoy him in comparison to the sudden rush of nervousness. 

“Hey, Toki.” Magnus’ voice welcomed him as he continued to regain control of his breathing and thoughts. Even the way he talked was cool! Upbeat, but also commandeering and…kinda gravely? 

Toki swallowed a few deep breaths, then, after wiping a fine line of sweat from his brown, bounced up and approached the man as he raised a hand and unlocked his car with his car keys. “S-sups? You, uhh, good?” 

Toki watched Magnus place his suitcase down. A warm smile spread across the older man, capturing Tokis attention and threatening to remove the line-up of casual conversation starters his mind had hastily devised. “Yeah, I’m alright,” Magnus replied, his complexion and composure calm and undisturbed. It made Toki jealous. “I’m actually just about to hit the road,” Magnus continued, pointing his thumb to the old car behind him. “I’m surprised you haven’t left yet.” 

“Oh noes,” Toki said, snapping upright. His neck warmed and the palms of his hands began to shake and itch with sweat. Unsure of what to do with them, Toki placed his hands on the side of Magnus’ car. “I wanted to gets to hangs with all the friends I made before I leaves.” 

“Uh-huh.” 

Magnus tossed his suitcase into a messy trunk partially filled with old clothes, crumpled paper and plastic bags. Toki blinked as a wave of dusty air struck his face. He swallowed another thick ball of air as Magnus slammed the trunk shut. His faded denim jacket caught some of the flying dirt and sand, but most of it continued to rise and settle across his bare chest where, once it was noticed by Toki, was impossible to ignore. Even when Toki finally managed to drag his stare from the older man’s chest, there were other things that distracted him. The long, bristly beard. The slight dent on Magnus’ belt buckle. His one rich, brown eye. 

How did such a neat guy end up getting kicked out of Dethklok? Until last night, Toki never paid much attention to the band’s history. Pickles and Nathan had their fair share of warnings, but surely whatever went on between the men couldn't have been too serious. otherwise, they wouldn't have let Toki remain behind, right? Did any of it really matter? 

“Something wrong, dude?” 

Toki caught Magnus peering at him with an odd expression. “Huh?”

Magnus pointed. “You keep staring.” 

A blush exploded across Toki’s face and ears. “Sorries. I just… I was wonderings…”

“Yeah?” 

Had his stares been that obvious? The thought made Toki want to drown himself in the lake, but Magnus’ funny smirk and the way he stood in front of him, holding himself high as he leaned against his car with his arms crossed, kept Toki’s shaking legs glued in place. 

A cool, evening breeze swept past them, and the chilly air helped soothe Toki’s nerves. That, and that knowing smile returning to Magnus. 

“I knows we just mets and alls,” Toki started, and to his surprise, Magnus nodded along to his trembling words, “But since we got along so wells dis weekend, and since you saved my lives–thanks again, by the ways.” 

“No problem, Toki.” 

“W-well.” Toki dug his heels into the dirt before stiffly shoving a hand into his pocket. He shakingly pulled out his phone which, once it was freed, gained a significant amount of weight in his unsteady hand.  “I was wonderinks if you’s maybe wanted to hang outs some times?” 

Toki heard the cracks in his voice and inwardly winced. In front of him, Magnus was unchanged and difficult to read. Doubt hurried its way into his head, and Toki frantically searched for a way to better interest the older musician. Then, before he could process the thought, he added, “It doesn't haves to be with just Toki; I can brings Dethkloks along, too! We cans all hangs out togethers, if you prefers.” 

Magnus’ curious stare broke into a smirk. Toki’s legs wobbled at the prospects of his offering possiblying being rejected. Because why on earth would an old rocker want  to hang out with someone like him? Magnus probably had better things to do than spend his afternoon hanging out with someone as silly and easy to pick on as himself. 

“You know what?” Magnus rubbed the bridge of his nose with a finger and thumb, then chuckled. “I’d be down for that…but I don’t know about inviting the others.”

“Huh?” 

Magnus drew closer. The ends of Toki’s eyes strained as his stare widened at the incoming figure that appeared so giant before him. 

“Not to worry you, or stir up any drama,” he continued, and because they were so close and Magnus was so tall, all Toki could do was lock his eyes with the lips forming each word, until they broke into a low chuckle. “Well, call me presumptuous, but I personally think you and I would have more ... fun if it were just the two of us. Agreed?” 

Toki was sure he had just about had a heart attack at the suggestion. 

Just the two of them? So, Magnus liked him back? He thought he was equally cool and worthy of being friends with, possibly more? A ticklish sensation bubbled up from Toki’s stomach, into his throat. He saw his vision blur a moment, then saw Magnus’ warm smile reenter this foggy mind. Just like last night, Toki thought, and he had to bite his tongue to keep him from laughing or getting too excited in front of Magnus. 

Last night, his mind returned again. Something special definitely happened last night. 

“Well?” Magnus then asked, and he opened his palm in front of Toki. 

“Oh? Oh!” Toki saw his moment opening before him, and as he outstretched his clammy hands, he fumbled and nearly caused his phone to slip from his shaky grip, but he still managed to keep it long enough before placing it into Magnus’ palm. 

Toki swallowed the second he felt their fingers collide during the transfer, and held his breath as he watched Magnus punch in his number. Another cool breeze flew between them, but Toki could hardly sense it through the gathering heat around his face and chest. When did it get so warm, he fretted, but his worries vanished when he suddenly felt the back of  Magnus’s steady hand brush against his face. 

Then, his Dethphone returned into view, and with his mind at a blank, Toki picked the dangling phone before him back into his trembling hands.

A rush of cool air blanketed his face once Magnus broke contact. “See you soon, buddy.” 

Still at a blank, Toki brought a hand to his cheek, feeling Magnus’ gentle imprint seep from flesh to flesh, and reignited the butterflies in his stomach. “Uhm, see you’s,” he said back, his voice now harboring the shakiness that had controlled  his limbs. Thankfully, Magnus didn’t hear it, and had returned to packing the rest of his belongings into the car. 

If it weren’t for that knowing grin of his, Toki might have assumed everything had happened in his head. But it happened, and Magnus confirmed it one last time as he stared out the window and flashed Toki one last playful smirk before driving off. 

Toki smiled, and remained so long after the dust trail in front of him began to disperse, and the sun set into the trees, leaving behind only the glow of his phone’s screen swaying excitedly in his hands. Once he lost sight of Magnus’ car, he lifted his phone and, with a bashful flash of his teeth, stared at the recently added contact on the screen. 

The Dethbus made its return about ten minutes later, picking up a stupidly happy Toki before making its own dissent into the woods. 

Sometime during their drive down the highway, Pickles caught him, still starry-eyed and wearing the cheekiest smile, and commented, “What’s got you all giddy?”

Without tearing his eyes from the screen, Toki answered, “Nothinks.” 

He couldn't explain it, but he knew this was the start of something very special.

#kloktober #magtok #hammertooth #toki wartooth #magnus hammersmith #kloktober 2023

[batstorm93672]

The Demon That Stares Back

Damian stared at himself in the mirror, he despised the demon that looked back. Lately, that demon has looked uglier and uglier as time went on. It was always never pleasant to look at, but since returning it looks worse. More disgusting, more of a burden to even think of.

Damian splashed cold water on his face, Damian could see the hideous thing act as if it was human by copying his move. Damian left his bathroom, the demon followed until it could no longer do so.

-

Robin swung rooftop to rooftop with Red Robin ahead of him, as they arrived to another section of their patrol route. It was quiet tonight, Robin liked the occasional fighting considering it meant he could do something he was meant to do. Robin looked at the window, it was dirty yet he could still see it staring at him again. Somehow the demon managed to get out of the Manor and follow him here, it was trying to copy him again and pretend to be Robin. Robin sneered at the disgusting thing, it needed to be discarded. "Not looking pretty?" Robin turned his attention to Red Robin, the demon did the same thing. "What?" Could he see the demon too? The same demon that's been following Damian?

"I was joking, you were just staring at yourself in the window"

No. He wasn't looking at himself, he was looking at a demon. As much as Robin wanted to correct his brother, he kept silent and simply gave a small hum to show he listened.

-

The demon kept following Damian, at school, at home, out at night. He couldn't escape it, it was a plague. He wants to get rid of it, but no matter what he does it comes back. It keeps rearing it's ugly face to stare and say nothing.

Damian looked at the demon in the bathroom mirror

"You shouldn't be here"

"You shouldn't be here"

It can talk?

"Why are you following me?"

"Why are you following me?"

"Tt. Disgusting"

"Tt. Disgusting"

"Stop talking and following me, no one wants to hear or see you"

"Stop talking and following me, no one wants to hear or see you"

"Shut up!"

"Shut up!"

The demon was in shards now, scattered on the bathroom tiles Damian felt a small tinge of pride. It was finally gone, it worked, he won.

Picking up the wasted remains of the demon, he threw it out which marked Damian as the winner.

From the other side of his door someone knocked "Master Damian, is everything all right in there?" "I'm well Pennyworth, simply taking out some trash" "Very well, as long as everything is well" "Indeed it is"

-

"Damian, look what do you think of my hoodie?"

"You have a hoodie of your own status Richard?"

"Yeah, the Nightwing hoodie is cool!"

Damian stepped closer to his older brother who posed in front of a mirror to see the demon facing his brother. Why is he here? Damian got rid of it, he won, why the hell is it here?!

"Damian? You okay there? You keep staring at yourself in the mirror-"

"IT'S NOT ME" Damian grit his teeth and clenched his fists, can no one else see this vile being? "Damian? What's wrong? Why are you shouting?" "Don't you see it? Why does no one else see this thing?" "Okay, calm down. What is no one else seeing?" "The damn demon that keeps following me, it won't leave me alone! It needs to go away"

"It needs to go away"

Damian stopped and looked at the demon who spoke

"I don't have to go anywhere"

"I don't have to go anywhere"

"You're the one who doesn't belong here!"

"You're the one who doesn't belong here!"

Damian covered his face and shook his head, he won! WHY IS IT BACK?! "Stop it! Stop copying me! Stop pretending that you're real, you're nothing! I got rid of you stop mocking me!" "Damian!" Damian looked at Dick who looked almost scared, but mainly concerned. "I need to be dealt with, I thought I got rid of it in my bathroom, but I'm still here. I don't want to see myself anymore, I'm not a part of this family!" Damian stopped, what he just said... that wasn't it. He meant to say "it" the demon is the thing. Why did he reference himself in this extent? "Damian, let's step away. How about we go to your room, it can't follow us there right?" Damian had to shake himself out of his stupor and nod "Yeah... I got rid of it"

The two walked away and the demon failed to follow.

As Damian walked in first, Dick closed the door behind him and immediately noticed the shards in the small garbage bin. "Damian, how long has this been demon been following you?" "I guess for a while, it went away for a bit. Ever since I returned it came back and it looks worse" "What do you mean by 'it looks worse'?" "It's disgusting, ugly, it doesn't belong here" "Hm... tell me, was it talking?" "It kept repeating my actions and words, it was merely pretending to be something it's not. I'm not human, I'm not worth any mention or attention. No one wants me around" Damian stopped again "I meant it... it isn't wanted around" "Damian. Look at me and listen carefully" Damian nodded and looked Dick in the eyes "The demon isn't ugly and it's loved by it's family. It belongs with whoever it lives with because it's loved. It's small and fragile, but it's so strong. It doesn't need to prove it's worth to staying here because it's welcome here. It's family loves having it around and wouldn't trade it for anything else"

Damian looked down "It is? Why would those people let it in? It's a vile creature" "It might think that, but in reality it's a beloved part of it's family" "Beloved?" "Of course, why wouldn't it's family love it? It is hard to understand it at times, but they still love it regardless. Because it is trying it's hardest to learn and we love you"

"What is the demon?"

"A boy, a small young boy who needs to know that he's loved. And right now he needed his big brother to remind him, who will gladly do so time and time again"

Damian walked to the small bin and took out a shard, the demon-- no, the boy looked back at him. The boy looked like him, the boy acted like him, the boy is him.

#damian wayne #damian wayne has feelings and he wont admit it #robin #tim drake #red robin #alfred pennyworth #dick grayson #tw low self esteem #sometimes I also see a demon staring at me #it needs to remember it's loved #it needs to remember that it isn't alone #if you see one too try to remember that it is loved and it isn't alone

[loathemetc]

Debunking my own Deltarune Theory: The Old Chair

In my time as a Deltarune Theorist (trying to make it sound like this is my job) I’ve made some pretty bunk theories, either based on dumb assumptions, jumping the gun with missing evidence, etc. The worst is probably the one where I didn’t even really give a second thought to the Knight being anyone but Gaster, at this point I believe them to be seperate but y’know. But the one I wanna take time to tear apart is the one on The Old Chair because I’ll be honest it’s just like. A random connection I made in five seconds. With a lot of holes. Let’s look at those holes!

Let’s get the most important thing out of the way:

These are not the same fucking chair.

Like just look at them okay. I don’t know what else to say. They’re obviously different. Black legs instead of blue, square top instead of rounded. And there’s the fact that when Toby wants to show something from Undertale he WILL just reuse the same sprite.

Credit to Spriter’s Resource hi Spriter’s Resource I love you.

So okay. That kind of makes the whole theory bunk but let’s keep talking about it anyways. Another proposed theory I’ve seen is that it’s a chair from the hospital.

It’s... Closer. It’s at a different angle so that’d explain the sprite difference and the lighting difference can just be lighting obviously. And sure, even though most things in the Spamton Sweepstakes very obviously relate to Chapter 3, there’s nothing saying they do exclusively.

Is that conclusive? HELL NO!

And Speaking of things that aren’t conclusive, Seam’s warning about getting caught when the sun goes down isn’t very... Conclusive. What does that mean Seam. Are you just telling us to get home before dinner? Is something bad gonna happen in the dark world at night? What the hell is going on?? [Pretend I put an image of Kris doing the YIIK pose here]

The part where I start theory-ing again:

Heyyy it’s the Spamton banner. We missed you Spamton banner.

So what could Darker than Dark mean, exactly? Well I’d posit something but @snowysobsessions already posited it in this post which you should read right now or else the next paragraph isn’t gonna make sense go on read it do it.

So what it it could get darker than dark? I’d really love to see a secret boss sidequest involve creating a Neo Dark Fountain and then sealing it because you have to go to the Neo Dark World for something. Assuming there’s such thing as a Neo Dark World. I don’t think that’s going to happen at all but I do think it would be: Really Cool.

Here’s another random spitball. What if “What if it could get darker than dark” doesn’t actually refer to something we’re not already aware of? What if it just refers to the Dark Worlds? I mean, they’re already darker than dark, negative photon readings, can’t even see through them, warping reality somehow with how dark they are. What if this question was asked, by or to Gaster, before the infamous Entry No. 17? And the chair is like. I don’t know. A chair in his lab or something. I don’t know! I don’t know.

Let’s talk about the water thing while we’re here too.

I mentioned in an addendum to the chair post that the sound file that plays upon clicking on the chair is water.ogg, essentially the same water noises found in Waterfall’s trash zone in Undertale. But Deltarune has another, similar sound file, that also plays ocean-like noises, a bit more realistic ones, called ocean.ogg. Where does this play?

Upon entering the Dark World for the first time, cutting out just as Kris wakes up.

The fact that the dark fountains are called, well, FOUNTAINS, as well as the apparent relevance of the old song from the sea, it feels like there’s a definite theme of water going on in relation to the dark world. Why? Well... There’s not really enough evidence to say anything definitive.

Oh yeah, that guy.

This guy. Uh. Hm. In the last post I proposed that this could just be Spamton directing us away from things we aren’t meant to see. But honestly I don’t think so. The yellow and pink are on opposite sides from Spamton’s glasses, the same as IMAGE_FRIEND, the weird face from the mansion basement that follows the same filenaming scheme that is otherwise only used for “meta” aspects of the game (The gonermaker sequence, dogcheck, game over, the unused files of someone lost alone and calling for help). The filenames for this pair of eyes don’t give us much to work with, just eyes.png and face.ogg, but face.ogg is very notably not Spamton’s laugh. So I feel like we can rule it being Spamton off the table. 

I know a lot of people have associated it with the TV guy, but I feel like this has to be bigger than just that. King and Queen weren’t built on the “meta” aspects of the game like this thing is. FRIEND and the TV both have big smiles, although FRIEND’s is notably bigger. Wilder. 

With all these meta ties and direct connection to a page mentioning something darker than dark, something darker yet darker, I’m unfortunately only left able to ask “Could it be Gaster?”. Alternatively, someone we haven’t met yet related to Gaster. He did ask two people what they think, after all. But it’s all speculation at this point. Maybe it’s the fucking Knight. I don’t know. I really don’t know!

Last thing hold on.

I’m not gonna bother debunking “the shadow mantle could be the sheet on the chair” cause eh. Shadow mantle. Darker than dark. Sure, why not. It could happen. I’ve seen it proposed that King’s Cape is the shadow mantle and I feel the same about that. Sure. It could happen. I’m not stocking too much in either idea but I also don’t think they’re bad ideas. Could happen.

Actual Conclusion: I definitely think Chairiel Deltarune will appear in Chapter 3 in some capacity, but I definitely don’t think Chairiel Undertale will be the secret boss. And also some other conclusions, I don’t know, you read the post.

#deltarune theory #deltarune #chairiel #spamton #spamton g spamton #toriel #gaster #wd gaster #dark world #dark fountain #neo dark fountain #spamton sweepstakes #idk how to tag this everything i just said is like a blur to me #shadow mantle #debunk #debunking #self debunk

[sealprotected]

[ PHOTOGRAPH ] : as someone volunteers to take a picture of them on a day out, sender instinctively wraps an arm around the receiver to steady them, holding them close for a photo that turns out to be more romantic than they were expecting. (Sett)

@ofwings-andclaws

prince ... was dating. yep, take that high school. this young, confident selkie was dating a hot alpha fox, among others. not prince pretending to look around when his heart fluttered only for one. although he did know that at their age, this feeling was fleeting - at least, so he was trying to be calm & let whatever was meant to happen... happen.

sett had invited him out for a weekend trip & prince... didn't really have any expectations whatsoever when he agreed. he thought the fox meant staying at his place (he'd never been!) over the weekend, watch some movies, have snacks et cetera, but he didn't expect for sett to think of something else on top. how the hell did he get so lucky?

instead, the alpha had come to pick him up with a bag of his own & a promise on his lips that they'd be back at patrick's place before midnight. most likely. turned out sett had planned a day at new haven's artificial beach, made for new haven's merfolk. it was hot out, the sun beat down on them even at nine in the morning, so ... seemed like it was going to be the perfect day?

sett brought a blanket & food for a picnic later on & towels, of course. prince hadn't felt this excited in a long time. they went for a swim, of course prince swam faster - this was his home turf. although he enjoyed playing around & splashing water at each other more than that. at around noon they had lunch - at the beach as expected & prince knew already today was going to be the best day of his life.

they weren't alone, but he didn't mind. in his little bubble only sett & him existed - nobody else mattered. they were playing around on the towel sett brought to use as a blanket, taking selfies of each other without the other agreeing, so when someone stepped up & waved hello, offering to take a picture of them, they both glanced up. looks were exchanged, nods shared.

when they got up to pose - with prince pulling the fox onto a little hill, sett's arm snuck around his waist & pulled him against his side without a comment & ...he didn't need one. prince glanced to his side, their eyes locked & smiles were reciprocated. the photo was taken, the click sounding, but neither really seemed to want to pull away.

it wasn't until the volunteer cleared his throat that the two realized they'd ... zoned out. prince blushed heavily & quickly returned to the towel to sit, legs crossed in front of him - not without mumbling a little thank you regardless. sett joined him soon after, sitting down so he leaned against the selkie's side with his own body. a strong hand came up to find the omega's chin & gently spun his head around until he faced him. soft smile rained down on the young selkie, but sett brought their lips together in a sweet, slow kiss.

"want to go swimming again? i could cool off." the alpha hummed after he pulled away a little. he had several reasons to cool off, the sun was only one of them.

"mhm, yeah." leaning his head against the other's shoulder, sett brought a hand up to brush through prince's hair, holding him close & just ... enjoying the time they could spend together like this, really.

"you okay eating my dust, though?"

the fox huffed & chuckled in response, leaning away a little so he could look at the younger male's face. "i was letting you win earlier."

"uhuh."

hands came to brush over the omega's sides, tickling every vulnerable spot on prince's body they could find, there was no mercy to be found in the alpha - not anymore. prince was writhing & giggling, twisting & laughing.

"who's the better swimmer, hmmm? can't hear you."

"mercy, please. have mercy."

"i might.... for a kiss."

"deal."

they spent most of the day at the beach & after that, sett took prince to don's diner for the biggest portion of fries & nuggets they offered, shared a milkshake & after that, sett brought prince back to patrick's place, but .... patrick worked late & ....sett might as well stay the night there. he did. but not the way everybody would've assumed, no.

both sat on the couch, they'd been watching a movie, but when patrick came home late in the night, he found them both fast asleep on the couch - prince practically curled up on top of the fix & ... the shark couldn't deny the sight hurt, even if he was unbelievably happy for his brother... he couldn't help but wish the same for his fox.

"goodnight you two."

the taken photograph (let's imagine prince a lil less ripped lol)

#answered ask. #ofwingsandclaws; sett #ofwingsandclaws #prince x sett

[catsvrsdogscatswin]

Higurashi Month 2023, Day 15: Triumph

Miyo tilted her head back and breathed, sucking in the cooling night air deep through her lungs, tasting the pollen, the fumes from the truck, the hint of chloroform, everything that lingered on the breeze. She wanted to crystalize this moment, to grab hold of every single part and weave it into the fabric of her being. This was her moment. This was her triumph.

This was the result of years of being mocked, belittled, watching her grandfather's research trampled onto the floor like it was less than dirt. In this moment, with a flick of her wrist, she would be casting aside the dice of fate and taking a step towards nothing short of pure godhood.

She opened her eyes, taking in the ancient weathered beams of the shrine, and the glint of stars far above, off beyond the edge of the roof. She had always liked how they shone in Hinamizawa, free of a city's miasma of light and twinkling like the purest points they were meant to be, shimmering across the heavens like fairy dust.

She shook such thoughts from her head and glanced down.

Rika Furude lay on the warm, butter-toned boards of the shrine itself, cut broad and smooth endless years ago and worn to a polished gleam by centuries of worshipful feet. Now, in the dark of night, those golden floorboards were tinted pale, like the watery glow of a yellow harvest moon.

Miyo would not do this on the altar itself. Not because it was sacrilegious, not because she thought it might go wrong, somehow, on a metaphysical level –simply because it was easier to kneel and to cut on a flat surface.

Rika Furude's eyes were shut, her head lolling slightly to one side, as though cradled in peaceful sleep. This was not true: her small young body was held taut by ropes around the ankle and wrist, preventing her from thrashing –if she managed to awake before the end– and throwing off Miyo's aim, and Miyo knew that she had been sobbing and wailing just a few hours before, lamenting the death of her friends.

Miyo took a moment to arrange her little sacrificial doll a bit more carefully, brushing some of Rika-chan's long strands of hair aside, off her face and under her shoulders. How strange it was. She always felt this odd sense of déjà vu whenever she had patients beneath her like this, limp and pliant from the anesthesia –a rush of giddy, almost playful power. She could treat them like oversized dolls and they could do nothing about it: would not even notice, not even remember.

Rika-chan, especially, was suited to playing at being a doll. With her waist-length veil of smooth midnight hair, her amethyst eyes winking like gems, and her tiny, perfectly-proportioned body. If not for the ropes, Miyo could probably lift Rika-chan up, pose her in a sitting position against the shrine, brush her hair, pretend to feed her tea.

Silly thoughts. Miyo clicked her tongue impatiently and straightened up again, reaching for the tools she had laid on the altar itself. The latex gloves snapping into place was a crisp, familiar sound, and she let it center her as she reached for the shears next and bent down to begin cutting a line up Rika-chan's green sundress.

It fell away, revealing her child-soft bare skin, and a few more snips removed the shoulders, letting Miyo pull the empty flapping thing that had once been a garment out from underneath Rika-chan's unconscious body. Another few cuts removed her undergarments –too young to need anything above the waist– and Miyo stood up to hand both of these things to the attendant Wild Dogs, who would burn the fabric as evidence.

Rika-chan's shoes and socks had already been removed, and she lay bare on the floor of her shrine, still cradled in blissful drugged sleep, still unaware of what was happening, looking more like a doll and a sacrifice than ever. She was a dissection piece, perfectly framed by the wood around her and stripped bare of everything except the flesh that waited for the first touch of a knife to peel her open.

Miyo gave a short nod to herself, satisfied with this, and reached for the scalpel that had been sterilized and waited for her use. Perhaps it was a silly thing, to adhere to medical procedure when her victim was intended to die, but Miyo had been trained as a doctor both theoretical and practical and spent years using her skills.

This may be a sacrifice, but it was also very much an operation –an operation to remove this cancerous thing that stood in the way of Miyo's future. Rika's death was the key to Emergency Manual 34, and so her death here would be no different than lancing a boil and letting the congealed pus of disbelief ooze free.

Besides, the gloves would help hide her fingerprints.

Miyo could still feel the warmth of Rika-chan's skin pressing against her knuckle, downy-soft, as she laid the tip of the knife just at the start of the epigastric region. Feeling that warmth radiating off of the body beneath her, Miyo couldn't help but take a moment as she always did to marvel at the wonderous miracle that was the human body. So strong in some ways, so weak in others, and complex beyond imagining.

A body such as this constituted a human being, a creature that could irrevocably change the world, and yet Miyo could erase all of that with a mere nick of her scalpel in the right place, change that person with the right application of chemicals and the presence of a so-doubted parasite in their brain.

The power of that, of being above the supine victim as her fingers tightened to the point where the scalpel pressed hard against her palm, was intoxicating. Miyo cut deep, and she cut without hesitation as a warm red slit slowly began to open in Rika-chan's abdomen, slicing deep through the rectus abdominis muscle and its sheath. Her blade only slowed in parting the tendinous intersections, and that was because, young and undeveloped as Rika-chan's abdominal muscles were, the bands of connective tissue were still tougher than the rest.

As the shining silver blade slit its swift way down her belly, Rika-chan did not twitch. Her breathing did not even falter. That did not mean, of course, that she was not reacting: Miyo could tell from the blood streaming down Rika-chan's hips and sides that she was undergoing nociception. The body still felt pain, but all the response it could manage now was in the circulatory system: the thrum of Rika-chan's pulse, the rise and fall of her blood pressure, and her wobbling perfusion index.

None of which applied to Miyo, as Rika-chan was not intended to survive and thus the usual post-op procedures were rendered moot, and she hummed happily as she continued slicing her way downwards, towards the pelvic girdle and suprapubic region.

As on-procedure as the scalpel and the gloves were, it was not a good idea to be too medically precise, and Miyo laid the bloodied scalpel briefly on Rika-chan's sternum to grab the flaps of her muscle and pull, spreading the extraneous bits apart so she could have better access to the peritoneum.

Cutting through that and the greater omentum underneath, unhallowed glee flickered in Miyo's eyes as she finally found her prize, squirming like gentle snakes within Rika-chan's abdominal cavity. The scalpel clattered as it was tossed aside, dropped like so many of the medical conventions she was crossing with this act –not caring about loss of blood, not caring about making small incisions that the patient could heal from– and Miyo plunged her hands into those wet, steaming pink ropes, squeezed, and pulled.

Blood and viscera splattered across those snow-pale sides as Rika-chan lurched beneath her, organs peeling free in long, reluctant loops that arched across the ancient floorboards as Miyo, growing giddier by the moment, heaved and pulled and tore, disemboweling Rika-chan. Giggles rose in her throat, eventually bursting forth into full-fledged laughter, as she hollowed her destiny out of Rika-chan's still, dying flesh and splayed it over the shrine like a sacrifice of offal.

This was it.

This was her moment.

This was the lynchpin, the key that finally unlocked the future that she desired.

This was her triumph, and she cackled it to the stars as she flayed Rika-chan alive on her own family shrine.

AN: I have the vague feeling that I've done this prompt before, but eh, oh well. There's over a hundred prompts to page back through if I want to check and I am far too lazy for that kind of effort. Fuck it, possibly-repeated-scene/story/prompt.

#Higurashi Month #Higurashi Month 2023 #Higurashi no Naku Koro ni #Higurashi When They Cry #When They Cry

[katimanki]

Oh sweet Jesus, what am I doing this for?

#darren criss #f*kn around #runnin' around #that is fucking stupid #what even are the proper tags for this song idk #I wanted to draw some flowers and then regretted it :) #also that's my fav line from the song #everybody making fun of this floral suit can go fuck themselves. thank yew :) #let's pretend this is just a cool pose and not meant to be a pose with some instrument #nope. not at all. no no #👀👀👀 #did I kinda give up on the flowers in the end. hell fucking yeah. because I was too lazy to find proper reference #and every pic of him was the same angle?? #rude #u uuu #oooh another post in less than 24 hours?? #I literally can't not post stuff as I have it done #..I say as I have 6 pieces of a series waiting for it to be done before posting👀👀 #all of which are from Jan-Feb... I really gotta get back into it lik yesterday #my art #myart #shitbyme #gotta figure out my tags... again #where has my memory gone

[aphrodite-made-me-write-it]

12 Days of Holiday Fics

Day One: How to Win Natasha Romanoff (With Eggnog)

(A/N) OMG! So, my silence has been for a reason. I really like the holiday season, so I’ve been writing fics! Small ones, really. Like 2 pages long, but they’re cute and I thought it would be fun to post one for every day until December 24! Upon Christmas, I’ll be posting a present :) This ‘series’ is just a buncha lil oneshots with my fav marvel ladies idk but one of them is a pre-gift! Some are smut, most aren’t, they’ll be tagged appropriately. Anyway, I love eggnog, here’s a fic about how much I love eggnog and hot women.

(A/N P2) also holy fucking shitballs yall i’m over 1000 followers! that’s nuts. thanks for gifting me with your eyes and your beautiful minds! 

Rating: G (General Audience, open for all!)

Warnings: Alcohol Consumption; Nat being a lil shit; R just wants her crush to like her; Brief mention of the death of a relative; Brief mention of criminal activity; Light Plot; Light Fluff

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 1k

Synopsis: You take a mission during the holidays with the one Avenger that doesn’t seem to like you very much: Natasha Romanoff. What happens next is your plan to get her to not hate you.

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Natasha isn’t a holiday person. At least, not proudly. She’s had too many bad ones in her life, and while she tries to put herself in that festive mood, nothing quite suits her the way that sitting in front of a fireplace with a glass of eggnog does. This is her ideal holiday tradition, no matter how many parties the Avengers drag her to.

This year, unfortunately, she can’t even be forced into an ugly sweater party. The mission was very last-minute, and since she’s basically always on call, Natasha was one of two poor souls condemned to suffer this season. Extra unfortunately, the person accompanying her was you. 

You’re not sure what you did to Natasha to make her dislike you. You were cocky, sure, but you weren’t nearly as bad as Tony. You might not always follow her orders, but sometimes you had a golden opportunity, so why should you hesitate? You’re not even the type to worry this much about not being liked but there’s something extremely nagging about not being liked by Natasha.

She’s just so smart and cool and pretty- and, fine, maybe you’ve got a teeny tiny crush on her. How could you not? Who doesn’t?

But she, apparently, hates your guts.

You don’t celebrate the holidays as often as you used to as a kid. You just don’t have time for them, but you do try to visit your family around this time of year. You mostly accepted the mission because your grandmother passed recently and it just doesn’t feel right without her. You don’t deal well with grief, and you don’t want to be a bummer. 

So the mission was meant to be a distraction. Something to pass the time.

You’re nearly at your breaking point day four of your little stakeout. You moved into the property across from some alien posing as a human to run a rather sizeable crime ring. Smuggling, trafficking, drugs, domestic terrorism - you name it, this scumbag has done it. His house is unimposing, complete with a ditzy blonde as his ‘wife’ - no record of such marriage exists - and a white picket fence. It’s weird.

You and Natasha are also pretending to be married. Got the fat diamond rings on your fingers to prove it, too. (Tony prefers authenticity.) She’s a damn good actress, too, because the way she looks at you when you’re out and about is enough to make you forget this is all an act. (Or maybe you’re just letting your own stupid feelings get in the way of perceiving hers.)

Maybe it’s because she’s been too quiet around the house and too touchy out in public. You’re just gonna go nuts if you don’t do something nice for her, maybe get her to warm up to you a little bit. So, you ask the only person you can think of asking for advice.

“She hates surprises.” Is the first thing Clint tells you.

Bypassing this warning, you ask him what she likes to do during the holiday season.

“She likes eggnog,” he doesn’t hide his disgust in his voice. “And sitting around a fireplace.” 

Perfect.

You wait until she goes out for groceries to commence your plan. You slip out to buy eggnog as fast as you possibly can, turning on one of those cheesy fireplace footage shows on a random streaming service. And you wait. And you wait. And wait.

It’s nerve-wracking.

What if she hates it?

What if this backfires, and she ends up hating you more?

The keys in the lock make your hair stand on end. 

Natasha nudges open the door. You quickly pour a glass of eggnog over ice as she steps into the living room. She calls out your name in confusion, eyeing the fireplace on the TV as she locks the door again.

You join her with two glasses in your hands. You freeze in the doorway of the kitchen when she looks at you. “Um- it’s, uh, y’know… the season, and all.”

She stares at you in silence for far too long. You can’t read her expression, but the longer she looks at you the more heated your body feels and the less confident you become in this sudden stroke of genius. Finally, she approaches you, and you realize there’s something shining in her eyes. Was she going to cry?

“Thank you,” she murmurs, voice softer than you’ve ever heard it within these walls. 

“It’s our first holiday season together as a married couple, isn’t it?” You attempt to joke as she takes one of the offered glasses.

“Shame there’s no mistletoe,” her comment stuns you into silence as she sips her eggnog with a small smile tugging at her lips.

“We could pretend?” you suggest, voice at least an octave higher than usual. 

One of Natasha’s eyebrows arches. “Is that your way of saying you want to kiss me?”

Your blush worsens. “N-no! Don’t be ridiculous.”

Another sip, and a look of guilt crosses her face. “You really didn’t have to do all this for me. I haven’t exactly been warm and cozy with you.”

You wave your hand in the air absently. “It’s fine, Nat. Really.”

“No, it isn’t. It’s not fair to you.” She turns to look over her shoulder, out the front window that faces your less-than-neighborly neighbors. When she faces you again, she sighs. “I’m not good at this whole apologizing thing.”

“So let’s skip to the kiss and make up part?” You joke, having already forgotten the mistletoe comment.

Natasha, however, has not. She smirks, suddenly seeming very predatory. Your face is feeling warm again. “So this really was all a ploy to get me to kiss you.”

“We kiss all the time! We’re married, remember?” You point to your ring finger. “Why would I-”

She cuts you off by pressing her lips to yours. By now, you’ve kissed her at least a dozen times since you started your stakeout and you’re never prepared for just how damn good she is at it. Or maybe Natasha just has that way of making your brain turn completely and utterly to mush.

When she pulls away, she clinks her glass against yours again with a wink.

“Happy holidays, (Y/L/N).”

This woman is going to be the death of you.

(Not that you’re complaining.)

~ Gen Tag List! ~

@nobody13​ @fireflyglass @swords-are-cool​ @artapdarkstr @pasta-bandit​ @multi-images​ @women-am-i-right​ @fanboy7794​ @simplysimping999​ 

~Natasha Tag List! ~

@blackxwidowsxwife​ @angelwolf-20258

// To be tagged, just let me know if you wanna be a general tag, tagged for a character, or tagged for a fic! //

#i dont often write smol oneshots bc my brain is weird like that #but i tried for this it was fun!!! #i tried to keep them all the same length too so if ur late into the game u can just bing bang boom #um anyway!!! here are the tags! #12 days of ficmas #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff imagine #nobody13 #fireflyglass #swords-are-cool #artapdarkstr #pasta-bandit #multi-images #women-am-i-right #fanboy7794 #simplysimping999 #blackxwidowsxwife #angelwolf-20258

[donaweasley]

What If

Pairing: Loki x Fem! Avenger! Reader

Plot:

A silly game of “What-Ifs” between two friends eventually leads to the realisation that the future, if spent together, may not be as bleak as they had anticipated it to be. A dialogue-based best friends-to-lovers cliché.

Warnings: Relationship angst, too many dialogues, long read, happy ending!!!

Read time: ~28 mins

Author's Note:

It's a long read with far more dialogues than can be deemed healthy. The reason is, I didn't want their arc to feel rushed. It had to be cooked slow. Another reason is that, I can't help hearing my characters, and it triggers a flood of dialogues! I'm trying to work on controlling it. 😬 Hope you enjoy!

Now has a sequel: Their Little Secret

“C’mon! You’re breaking the rules now,” Loki casually waved his hand at his best friend.

“I’m not. There’s nothing to answer really,” (Y/N) replied with a shrug.

“There must be something on your mind!”

She pretended to think for a second, and shook her head.

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

It was a usual night in the compound. It was just another night when one of these two friends had called the other in the middle of the night for some midnight snack. It was just another of those happy times when they had tiptoed into the kitchen like thieves because...no, no one would mind some missing nachos or ice creams, but because it was fun!

It wasn’t easy for Loki to open up to someone, let alone to allow the other person in. Neither was it easy for (Y/N) to trust somebody, given her past, especially when that somebody was infamous for betraying almost everyone, at every step, not to mention his attempts at ruling Earth and causing massacre.

But time is a healer and a magician.

And here they were now, looking at the moon-washed night life through the west-facing glass wall, and playing a game of “what-ifs”. One would say that it was silly and immature; some would even call their talks gibberish. But when the night was so relaxed and carefree, why wouldn’t they be?

The pale yellow orb hovering above the western horizon cast a soft ray of light through the glass wall. Oblivious to its movements across the room, Loki and (Y/N) were wrapped in a thin blanket on a couch, their feet resting on two separate pouffes.

It had all started with a silly question, something like, “What if you weren’t stuck in this building tonight?”, or something along those lines; they didn’t even remember correctly anymore.

One question led to the other, and soon they found themselves tangled in a game of questions that would have been enough to create an alternate reality. But eventually, they found themselves, not answering with imaginary scenarios, but debating over one particular question:

“What if you find the love of your life tomorrow?”

This question was posed by Loki, rather theatrically, amidst the many others that had tossed different possibilities of their near future. And it was here that (Y/N) refused to play along anymore because, as she stated, it was “the most silly question ever”.

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

“So, you claim that my question is even worse than your ‘What if you were a Jotun cat’? What kind of a question is that anyway?” Loki teased.

“Of course, it is. Undoubtedly!” With one wave of her hand, (Y/N) dismissed his appeal.

“And how is that even logical, may I know?”

“C’mon, this entire game is out of the boundaries of logic,” she claimed. “Your behaviour is like that of a cat. Don’t make that face; it brings you closer to being a cat. And...a Jotun cat sounds cool!”

Loki sighed. “And my question is ridiculous! If the game is beyond all reason, then...” he shrugged, “say something...weird, and move on!”

“Fine! If I-if... If I meet the love of my life tomorrow,...I’ll stab him. Or her. Or them. I don’t even know.” She huffed.

“Ouch!” Loki made a face, ”Didn’t see that coming. I would enjoy the stabbing part though. Thank the Norns, you never declared your feelings for me!”

She looked at him sideways with a stern face. Loki noticed the irritation simmering just beneath her skin, ready to burst out at the next prodding.

“Hey,” he placed a hand on her arm, “what happened? Was it something I said?”

She turned her face away. But Loki wasn’t giving up that easily.

“(Y/N),” he gently tugged at her arm, “look at me.”

When she finally turned towards him, he held her by the shoulders just to make sure that she couldn’t move away again.

“Now, you’ll tell me everything. What happened?” He inquired again. “I thought you were having fun.”

“It’s nothing Loki, it’s just that...you know I don’t like discussing my non-existent love-life. It’s...it kind of makes me...sad sometimes. Especially in a setting like this!” She waved her hands at her surroundings. “I mean, look at it, a full moon, a silent night, blankets and… It just leaves me with this reminder that I’ll be alone all my bloody life!”

Loki’s hands slowly retracted from her form and folded themselves on his chest. And just like that, they both found themselves staring out of the window.

“I’m sorry,” Loki’s voice audibly reflected the guilt that had formed within, “I never intended to...”

“No, you shouldn’t be. It’s...I overreacted. I’m sorry, Loki. I just ruined the mood. Shit! And it’s not my hormones, mind you!”

“I know,” Loki chuckled. “And you did not ruin anything. It’s natural to feel, isn’t it?”

She looked at him with a raised brow, “Somebody’s learning!”

“Somebody’s got a good teacher,” he smiled.

“Aww!! I love it when you acknowledge my awesomeness!” She wrapped an arm around him, pulling him in closer, and pinched his cheek.

“Ugh! Let go of me! Let...go!!”

The room was filled with (Y/N)’s cackles and Loki’s threats as he wriggled out of her grip.

“Do that one more time, and I’ll stab you!”

But it wasn’t enough to stop her chortles.

“Would you now?” she teased, and raised her hands again in a faux attempt at squeezing his cheeks.

He swatted them away.

“Stop it!” He warned again, only to emanate snorts from her.

But the next second, his voice changed into a compassionate one, “Why do you think you’ll be alone all your life? How old are you anyway? 80? 90? Isn’t that supposed to be old in human years?”

Once again her cheerful mood fled behind a thick curtain of annoyance. But this time she did not look away. She simply rolled her eyes, and pulled her legs from the pouffe to sit cross-legged, and shifted to face him.

“No, I’m not that old. But why are you suddenly so interested in this topic?”

“Because suddenly, you seem to have found an interest in getting annoyed.”

“Then don’t annoy me.”

“Not in my nature, I’m afraid.”

She couldn’t decide whether to hit him or laugh at him.

“Loki-” She curled her fists and shut her eyes.

“I’m listening, darling,” he smirked.

Of course, she knew how stubborn Loki could be!

Who else would know that better than me?

“Okay,” she placed her palms flat on her thighs, “the thing is...I can never make a relationship last more than two years. I waste my time trying to establish a...a proper, long-lasting relationship - something permanent - and end up with a heartbreak. Every. Fucking. Time. I’ve given up. I’ve had enough! Now, even if anyone makes a move, or if I’m interested in someone, I just remind myself that it’s not gonna work! I just don’t put any effort anymore.”

Loki hummed in response; his eyes were focused on her as if he was trying to decipher a mystery.

“And,” she continued, “given my current ‘job’,” she air-quoted the word, “I’m more sure than ever that no one will last more than two months now!”

Once she voiced the storm in her head, her eyes softened and she looked down at her lap. Through hooded eyes, she stole a guilty, fleeting glance at her friend, who seemed to be musing about something really serious. His eyes were strained on the carpet, while his chin rested on a fisted hand balancing itself on his thigh.

For a long moment neither said anything. Only the distant buzz of the sleepless city floated through the air and filled the room.

It was Loki who disrupted the silence with a long and heavy sigh.

“I knew that Midgardian men were impatient, narcissistic-”

“Look who’s talking,” she smirked as she interrupted him.

He gave her a quick deadpanned stare before resuming, “-imbeciles, but I was beginning to think that they have good tastes in women. It’s disappointing, not surprising though, that they have proven me wrong.”

A small laugh almost made its way to its escape, but she pushed it back. “You think so?” She quipped.

He shrugged, “From what you’ve said, there is no reason to think otherwise.”

She sat a little straighter. “Really? Do go on!”

Loki immediately noticed the effect that he had planned for. Without giving away the joy of his small triumph, he continued, “Indeed! Look at you! You’re an amazing woman! You’re brave, witty, independent...smart...excellent with knives! And that’s my favourite thing about you, by the way. ”

Feigning offence, she exclaimed, “And I thought your favourite thing about me was that I tolerate all your tantrums, and keep up with your shenanigans.”

“I don’t throw tantrums, darling,” he pushed the accusation away with his silky tone, “and don’t tell me that you take no pleasure in the havoc that we wreck together.”

At this, she could no longer suppress the evil grin that spread across her face, “I do love a bit of chaos. It’s fun.”

“To think of it,” Loki added excitedly, “had you been on Asgard, you might have been the Goddess of Chaos!”

“Oh! Thank you!” She replied with a dramatic wave of her hands.

Both laughed at the way their words were unfolding.

“Thank you, Loki,” (Y/N) said after their little whirlwind of laughter had calmed down, “I guess I needed to hear something nice about myself. It’s been a long, long time since I heard it.”

“I meant every word of it,” he replied in a solemn tone that made something flutter in her chest.

Was it gratitude? Was it joy? Was it love for her best friend?

It was hard to tell. It seemed to be everything at once.

She simply smiled at him. “Even the ‘Goddess of Chaos’ part?”

“Especially that part,” he asserted, and she laughed.

“You’re the best, Loki!” She gave him a half hug.

“That, I definitely am. But you’re not too shabby yourself. And you should never ever be sad for someone else’s failure.”

“Alright, I get what you’re trying to do here,” she landed a playful punch to his shoulder. “I’m fine! Really! I just got a little carried away.”

“No, I really mean it,” he tried to assure her. “You are one of the most magnificent women I have known! And mind you, I’m rather picky in these cases.”

She laughed, “Of course, I’d know that! ... Loki, it’s...it’s alright. Some people just don’t have it in them to sustain relationships no matter how wonderful they are. I’m okay with it.”

“Come on! A narcissistic God is showering you with genuine compliments! And you’re still not convinced that it’s not your fault but of all those who failed to keep up with you?”

She tried another attempt at convincing him, “It works both ways.”

“Norns! I can’t believe you’re so foolish!”

“Enlighten me, please,” she drawled.

“I believe I have already established the fact that you are phenomenal.”

When she giggled and nodded, he carried on.

“Good. Now, your job, as you put it, shouldn’t be a hindrance in your relationship. You’re doing the marvellous job of being a guardian to thousands of people. People you don’t even know! How many would put their necks out there to do it?”

“C’mon, Loki, when duty calls, you have to leave everything behind and just go! Who’d tolerate that for days? They will snap one day.”

“I’d never do that!” Realizing his mistake, he quickly corrected himself, “What I mean is, had I been in their place, I’d have never done that.”

“That’s because you’re on the team,” she argued. “So, it’s normal to you.”

“No, it’s not because I’m on the team. I’d-” He sighed. “Fine, why don’t you try finding someone from this field? Stark’s parties are a great place to hunt humans.”

“‘Hunt humans’?” She snorted, “I like the sound of that. Nay, haven’t found anyone. Besides, mixing professional and personal life can be fatal. You never know when your personal life might get jeopardised because of a mission gone wrong. Y’know, the usual blame-game and all. I hate all that!”

Loki brooded over her words for a few seconds before asking, “I don’t get it. Why would it be fatal? I mean, look at us,” he gestured in between them. “We have a perfect understanding. We’d never blame the other for any petty thing. Or-or let it affect our friendship.”

“That’s because we have the perfect understanding, Loki! You said it yourself. It’s a rare thing that we have. And I can’t expect it to be with anyone else. They’re not you, Loki.”

“They’re not us,” he corrected her.

Joy seeped through his senses as he watched her face brighten up at his words.

With a nod, she continued, “You see, all that spark, excitement, promises - these sound really great at the beginning. As time passes, as the real world pushes in, love moves to the backseat. Love is not enough. There comes a time when you have to balance everything together, and love becomes one of those things. It becomes a chore.”

“I’m sorry, I don’t follow you,” Loki stated with a frown. “That sounds so sad!”

“It is!”

“Well, it shouldn’t be! Loving you shouldn’t be a chore! Let’s say...hypothetically...if I’m in love with you, then you’d be my passion. And passions never become a duty, not even in the worst of times. Instead, they help us breathe when everything comes caving in. You’d be my...my moment of peace in a war. How could I not be tempted to embrace this beautiful moment?”

“Unfortunately, Loki, that’s not how it works. See, when you have a lot on your plate, say your job, your dreams, your daily life and all the pressure that comes with these, you’ll find less and less time for your loved one. Things get hectic and eventually frustrating. You won’t be able to keep that flame alive even if you want to. And one day, you’ll come to realize that you have distanced yourself from your moment, even if you never wanted to. But it’d be too late. There’d be no going back.”

“I’d never distance myself from you! I mean, from my moment. I’ve been a king, and I know how taxing royal duties can be. Sometimes, it seemed like a luxury to get even a minute to myself.”

“See? So, how could you have found time for me?”

“I would have, darling. Not plenty, but whatever little time I’d have gathered, I’d have made them memorable. For you. For us. And maybe we could have gone on long rides occasionally. Rekindle the old flames? Or-or we could have gone on visits to other realms...for political reasons, of course, but could have taken the opportunity to spend a small vacation with each other. What do you say?”

Painfully tempting images of a life that could have been floated in her eyes.

“And what if we came back to Earth, and I got involved in...say, a job that was all hectic and left me all frustrated, and with little time for you?” She shrugged.

With a sigh, Loki shifted to face her fully. “We will take care of each other, (Y/N). If one gets low, the other pulls both up. And I know that together, we can do anything! I believe in you more than I believe in myself.”

She smiled brightly as she acknowledged, “That is...that sounds doable, yes.”

“You’re special,” he placed a hand on her cheek, “and you need to be treated in the most special manner. One that befits my queen.”

A moment passed between them as they looked into each other's eyes, both seeing the same beautiful picture.

His queen!

My queen!!

Wait, what is he...?

Damn! What am I doing! What will she...!

Loki cleared his throat as he abruptly pulled his hand back to his side.

“I’m sorry, I...”

“No, it’s okay,” she cringed at the way the words squeaked out of her. Clearing her throat, she continued, “We were just giving examples.”

“Yes, just examples,” he agreed.

“It’s fine! I understand.”

“Great! It’d have been quite...awkward...otherwise.”

“Oh no! It’s...uh...totally fine. We’re best buddies!” She gave his arm a light punch.

“Right!” He nodded, and focused his gaze on the floor.

After taking a minute to calm his heart, he wore his witty persona back.

“See, having a relationship is not at all tough. All you need is a good partner. And I’ve proved myself right again! No, wait. There’s something you mortals do. It’s...uh...about throwing something...”

“Goblets? We don’t do that. It’s you-”

“No, not throwing, it’s about dropping something...after you have proven a point...”

“...Mic drop?” She chuckled.

His eyes lit up.

“Yes! ‘Mic drop’. So, as I was saying, all you need to have a happy and successful relationship is a good partner. Mic drop!” He concluded as he mimicked the action.

She sighed. “There’s just one tiny problem. I’d probably never find the right person. The ones that flirt with me, don’t understand me, and the ones that understand me have friendzoned me.”

“I’ve never friendzoned you,” Loki quickly replied with a frown. “J-Just clarifying...in case you were talking about me.”

“Of course, I’m talking about you, you big oaf!” She flicked his arm.

“Hey! You friendzoned me.”

“No…? It was you! Well, yeah, I never tried to flirt with you or anything but...anybody could see that you were being just my friend.”

“I can say the same about you,” Loki playfully accused.

“Whatever,” she shrugged.

A thought started playing in her mind. And a couple of seconds later, she decided to say it aloud, “I...umm...Just curious...y’know, don’t take it in any other way. Did you ever think of flirting with me?” She put forward each word very cautiously.

Loki furrowed his brows, and opened his mouth to reply, but before he could, she warned him, “Be honest!”

Immediately, his confident attitude changed into a helpless one. “Yes, I did. Maybe once. Or twice. But that was all! I assure you!”

She could hardly contain the amusement that was bubbling inside.

“What’s so funny about it?” Loki asked with furrowed brows.

“Nothing,” she shook her head as she tried to hold back her laughter, “nothing at all. It’s,” and then she lost it, “I’m sorry! It’s funny! I don’t know why, I find it funny hearing from you!”

“Look who’s laughing!” He said wryly. “I could clearly hear your thoughts the first few days after I stepped into this structure. Every compliment that your little mind cooed at my divine persona. And may I dare say that not all of them were decent.”

Her hysterics were long forgotten as her face went red at the comment.

“How dare you invade my mind?” Her hand had balled into a fist, ready to hit his arm when he caught it.

“I didn’t invade it, darling. You were practically shouting inside that pretty head of yours. I could have heard it from the other side of the planet!”

“That was a long time ago,” she refused to meet his eyes. “I make better choices and better decisions now.”

“Do you?”

She opened her mouth to speak but closed it without uttering a syllable, and crossed her arms.

Loki nudged her with his elbow. “Hey, it’s fun to tease you. Don’t be a spoilsport.”

“I hate you,” she peeked at him through the corner of her eye.

“What can I say,” Loki sighed. “Alright, if you say so.”

She smirked as she glanced at him sideways.

Loki cleared his throat in a not-so-subtle manner. “So, the next time Stark throws a party, I’ll find someone for you.”

Immediately, she face-palmed, and groaned, “No.”

“What?”

“Please drop this topic. And you’d probably find me a psychopath, anyway” She joked.

“That hurt!” Loki exclaimed with a hurt look masking his humour, “do you think so little of me? Can’t I find a proper partner for my best friend, my darling?”

“No, it didn’t hurt. Don’t fake it. I know you better than anyone.”

“No, you don’t. You-”

“I do. And...I’m fine, Loki” she reassured him, “being with myself, with the people here, being with you.” She gently bumped her knee into his.

“Will these be enough?” His tone had left the playfulness behind. “Will I be enough? For all your life?”

She shrugged, “I think so. You...stick with me all the time, you understand me, you...make me feel good. What more could I want to be happy?”

“You know what more you are missing. A friend can never touch the boundaries of what a lover can give you.”

“I don’t need a lover. Just be with me all my life, and I won’t need anyone else.”

He gave her hand a light squeeze. “I will. I promise.”

Her playful smile was back. “Thanks for all the pep talk, my dearest God. But turns out that I’m better off alone. Now can we please go back to the game? It’s my turn to ask you.”

“Alright,” he smiled back, “if you say so.”

“Stop saying that!” A defeated sigh left her. “You won’t be convinced, will you?”

“Probably not. Because I know that this will gnaw at you again a few days later. I know you’ll be sad again. And that I won’t allow on my watch.”

“God!”

“Right here, listening to you!” Loki quipped.

Rolling her eyes, she muttered, ”Damn you!” And proceeded to put forward a proper argument.

“The reason why I’m avoiding a new relationship is because I don’t want another heartache. I can’t handle breakups. That’s why I’m...”

When Loki didn’t make another attempt at dissuading her from her arguments, she added, “I just...try everything to avoid a heartbreak. Because when I get one, I lose control over myself.”

“Yes, I’ve seen. Once.”

“Then you must have noticed how vicious I become. Sarcasm drips from my mouth all the time, I say things that I shouldn’t, I...I hurt people. And in turn, I hurt myself. I yell at those who want nothing but good for me. But...”

“But being mean seems to be the only way to mask the pain,” he finished her line.

“It does, yes!”

She looked at him, and into his eyes that silently spoke of the pain that was resurfacing. She remembered something.

“You and I are so...alike!”

He nodded with a smile. “And maybe that is why we understand each other more than anyone ever could. … But we’re more than just being alike, if you think about it.”

She noticed how his voice gradually rose from its usual calmness to an excited tone, and his hands moved with his words.

Loki continued, “You point out my mistakes but don’t accuse me like everyone else does. You show me what’s right. And there’s this-this thing about you, which is so scary...the way you make me do all the things that you want. I-I mean, I am the God here! But you…a mortal...how can you have so much power over me?”

He sighed as his voice dropped to a compassionate tone, “You make me happy, (Y/N). You’ve taught me to forgive when I can, to forget what I can’t fix.”

“Don’t always do that,” she interrupted with a smirk.

His evil smile made a brief appearance before he resumed his warm note, “I like being with you. No...I love being with you! You make me feel good. You make me feel...I don’t know.... You make me feel…”

“Complete?”

“Yes!” He observed her, “You complete me.”

For yet another time, silence enveloped them. The only difference was that this time, it was comfortable. Even in their hushed moments, they could hear each other, know what the other wanted to say.

After a while of exchanging quiet stares, (Y/N) spoke, “All this time I believed, but now I know for myself, that you are indeed Silvertongue!”

Loki looked at his lap and laughed, but in the pale light of the setting moon, she noticed the pink that had crept up his ears and cheeks.

“I meant every word of what I said,” he reassured her once again that evening.

“I know, Loki.”

Loki watched her as she shifted to a kneeling position, and leaned towards him. He felt his face becoming hotter as she supported herself on his shoulder with one hand, and placed a soft kiss on his cheekbone.

As she settled back, her lips tingled with the memory of Loki’s skin on it.

They had been best friends, yes, but she had never allowed herself more than a quick hug because she knew that Loki wasn’t someone open to random touches. And she wanted to respect that. Always.

But this peck felt right. It felt necessary. And it felt...different.

What happened next wasn’t guided by logic anymore, but only by their senses.

Loki put his legs back on the pouffe, and scooted a little closer to (Y/N). Taking the cue, she shifted so that her leg was stretched out, and back on the pouffe - not on hers but his - and sat close to him. He arranged the blanket so that it covered them both again.

Another stretch of silence enveloped them. To them, the moment was beautiful. To Loki, who had never experienced anything similar before, it was precious. If he could stop time, he would have done it right then and there.

“Why haven’t you found anyone yet?” She asked him.

“Royalty has its disadvantages,” he replied without taking a moment to think.

She leaned back slightly to get a good look at his face, “Didn’t you ever find anyone from the royal...uh...what do you call it? Of royal blood?”

Loki laughed at her naivety. “Can’t say I didn’t. But none of them were the one. Besides, most people chose my handsome brother over me. And if anyone chose me, well, it was mostly because of my royal title. None of them were real.”

“That’s awful! I would never have done that to you! I’d have chosen you for the wonderful being that you are. But, I get it; happens on our planet, too.”

“Everywhere,” he asserted.

“So...who do you think is the one for you?”

He looked down at her face, which was mere inches away from his. For the first time in months of their friendship, he felt something swell inside his chest at the closeness.

“I still don’t know,” he whispered, “but I think the Norns might have started giving me clues.”

He didn’t need to explain, obviously. All the tension that had been building up throughout the night had placed them both on the same page.

Without thinking, Loki moved his wrist so that his palm was facing the ceiling. And instinctively, (Y/N) placed her hand in it, their fingers closing around each other.

"It's odd," she announced after a while.

"Indeed."

"It's weird. I mean, what were we even thinking!" She huffed, although she was still clutching his hand, as was he holding hers.

"Exactly what I was thinking. You and me?” Loki laughed nervously, “Come on!"

"Yeah!"

"Right".

Silence, their faithful companion for the night, visited them once again.

"Could it be? You and me?" Loki’s voice was a little more than a whisper, and bordered on the edge of confidence and doubt.

"Doesn't sound so bad. Not after all these... Talks?" She whispered back.

"Right!"

"Right."

And once again, they fell quiet.

The strangeness of the moment pushed them both into a whirlpool of thoughts. From acquaintances to partners to friends to best friends to...lovers?

Can this even be possible? What if it’s just a passing phase? What if everything goes back to normal tomorrow? Will we still be able to talk normally? But… This feels right. Just...right.

With a sigh, (Y/N) put her head on Loki’s shoulder.

"I don't want to rush into anything and ruin what we have," she confessed in a hushed tone, eyes staring into the night outside.

"Neither do I. You're the only one I have."

With a raised brow, she looked up at him.

"And Thor," he corrected himself with a small smile.

"Glad you remember him "

"Shut up.

Slowly, hesitantly, Loki put his free hand around her. Unsure of the appropriateness of the action, he kept his arm loosely hanging around her frame.

He waited for a while. Had Loki looked at her face, instead of looking straight ahead in fear, he would have noticed the small smile that had formed on her lips.

When she didn’t flinch or protest, he began to rest his arm properly but gently on her. He even went ahead and made the slightest possible effort to pull her closer to him.

The smile that had started forming on her now spread wide enough to turn into a grin. Its reflection was found on Loki’s face, too, who could finally muster the courage to look at her, although he was equally worried that she would be able to hear his heart trying to hammer its way out of his chest.

With every minute that passed, Loki became more baffled, for he couldn’t decide which moment he’d frame and hang on the wall of his heart as the most precious one.

"Are you feeling hot?" She asked without looking at him.

"A bit, yes. You, too?"

"Quite a bit, actually," she gulped.

"Is it normal?"

"I guess, yes. Totally! Had we been cool about it, it'd have meant that there's no spark between us. It’d have felt awkward, wrong."

"So, you agree that there's a spark between us?" He didn’t even attempt to hide the mischievous smirk that shone on his face.

"I had always suspected," she nodded.

"Hmm. When was the last time we went out for dinner?" He asked.

“Probably last month...or was it-”

(Y/N)’s head snapped up to look at him. She could barely put a lid on her excitement.

"Are you proposing to take me out on a date?"

"Well, if we are going to do this, then I'd like to court you properly."

She felt like she'd burst out of sheer excitement.

"If you'd agree to it, that is" Loki clarified.

Taking a large breath, she replied, "I'd love it."

The night was going better than either had expected. Who would have thought that a game of weird questions and a few confessions could change their lives!

(Y/N) put her head back on his shoulder, and let her body slump against him. He held her confidently this time.

“It still feels weird though,” she declared.

“It does, yes, but...maybe this is...right?” In a long time, Loki was hopeful about something, and he wasn’t going to let it slip away. No.

“I hope so.”

“Me, too.”

“Just so you know,” she sat up straight, “Thor is handsome, yes, but you are devilishly charming. You’re intelligent, well-read, witty, sarcastic, great at combat...uh...”

“Go on,” Loki smirked, earning a playful glare from her.

“You are,” she continued, “seductive! And who can resist a sorcerer who knows his way around everything!”

The evil smile that Loki had put away found its way back on his face. “As far as I remember, I did nothing to seduce you. I wonder what will happen if I try...”

“Shut up, Loki! You know I give away raw compliments. I didn’t really mean...I didn’t think...”

He laughed heartily at the furious way she was blushing.

“I was only pulling your leg. I had imagined you to be wise,” he clarified.

“I am! It’s just... I was...” She shook her head.

“So,” Loki resumed, “you think I’m devilishly charming?”

“Drop the topic, please!”

“You can’t resist my sorcery, ha?”

“Please change the topic! Forget what I said!!”

Loki laughed as he continued teasing her. It wasn’t going to be an easy ride, she realized, with the God of Mischief, but it was going to be the best ever!

“(Y/N)?”

“Hmm?”

“I know it was your turn to ask but, what if...you and I are indeed meant to be together?”

She smiled as she rubbed her cheek on his shirt, “I think we’ll have a gorgeous future together. And...I’d love that more than anything else.”

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

The next morning...

“Morning, Wanda-”

“Shh! Shh!!” The red-haired witch silenced Natasha, and pointed towards the couch.

Curious, Natasha’s eyes followed the direction that Wanda’s finger was pointing at.

There, snuggled in a blanket, fast asleep, sat (Y/N) and Loki, their legs spread on a pouffe, tangled with each other’s. Loki’s arm was wrapped around her shoulder while she was holding his waist. Her head lay on his chest and his on hers.

“Aren’t they cute?” Wanda whispered.

Before Nat could reply, Tony’s voice cut the conversation.

“Who’s cute?”

This time, both the ladies shushed him, leaving a perplexed expression on his once sleepy face.

When they pointed towards the couch, Tony huffed, “These two! God knows what’s taking them so long to realise! They’re just so-” His face lit up. “Know what? I have an idea! I’ll make them confess. Who’s up for it?”

***

Now has a sequel: Their Little Secret

And...a song for keeping the feelings floating...💕

#loki #loki x reader #loki fluff #loki x reader fluff #loki friends to lovers #friends to lovers #loki x readers friends #loki x reader sweet #long read #loki fanfiction #loki fanfic #loki oneshot #loki imagine #loki imagines #loki fic #loki odinson #loki laufeyson #loki friggason #loki (marvel) #loki series #loki of asgard #loki love #loki 2021 #loki x you #loki x y/n #mcu loki #loki show #loki tv #loki tva #loki the series

[plus-size-reader]

Weird

Stu Macher x Plus size!reader

Word Count: 2755 words

Warnings: none

Summary: Stu developing a little bit of a thing for Randy’s coworker at the video store

Just a weird little thing my brain cooked up, with not too much intricate plot to speak of. 

—————————————————————————————————

He’d been staring at you for an hour.

If he didn’t knock it off soon, Stu was sure that it would start to get creepy but he couldn’t help himself. It wasn’t like he could just walk right up to you and start a conversation.

You probably wouldn’t even recognize him.

Besides, Stu wasn’t a super good conversationalist to begin with. He always got tongue tied and made inappropriate jokes at inappropriate times. There was no telling how it would go, especially with you.

Stu’d had his eye on you all this time, and while he had never had trouble making friends, it was different with you.

All he could do was walk around the aisles of the video store, doing his best to look busy as he browsed the video selection.

He had always liked movies, and wasted away plenty of  night watching tapes with his friends but as of late, the movies had little to nothing to do with his frequent visits to the Woodsboro rental, and everything to do with you.

At first, it was innocent.

One night while he and Billy were looking for a couple blockbusters to occupy their time, he noticed you behind the counter where he typically would have found Randy.

It should have ended there, but because Stu was Stu, of course it didn’t.

The next day at school, he had given his strangest friend the third degree about who the hottie in his place was and found out that you were new.

Randy didn’t know too much about you, other than the fact that you chewed gum the entire time you were on the floor and that your favorite movie was Frankenstein. 

It was hardly enough to get to know a person, but it seemed to appease the man enough to end the barrage of questions.

At least for a while.

It wasn’t until he came in six or seven times without his partner in crime that Randy started to get suspicious over just what Stu thought he was doing here. 

After all, he had a girlfriend, a very hot girlfriend, who he could be spending time with instead of stalking you at work.

Not that he actually went out of his way to ask the blonde right away.

While his being there so frequently definitely looked weird, there were plenty of explanations for what Stu could have been doing, and in all honesty, he kind of freaked Randy out.

Besides, if all he wanted to do was look through the VHS tapes, there wasn’t really anything he could do about it. Billy and Stu were both good customers and as long as they kept renting movies, it was all good.

If you just so happened to be there when he came in, that was just how it was.

After all, you worked there so you were bound to be there pretty often. That meant that, coupled with the amount of time Stu and Billy spent there looking for good stuff to watch, you were bound to run into them quite a bit.

There were a lot of regulars.

Woodsboro was a relatively small town and you got familiar with people’s faces, especially those you saw all the time, but that didn’t mean you really knew them. You had begun to recognize Randy’s friends, but they were little more than that to you.

Maybe that was why you seemed to be so oblivious to Stu’s constant attention on you. To you, he was just another customer, one that you were even less familiar with then most of the others because Randy handled all of their business.

You very rarely even interacted with them at all.

Not to mention that you were extra busy tonight with the murders and all that. The residents of this town had taken that terrible act as inspiration to have their own blood-soaked horror movie nights in the comfort of their own homes.

There were so many people here tonight that you weren't even sure you would have had time to notice any individual person at all.

You may not have had time, but Randy certainly did and he’d had enough.

Not only was what Stu was doing inappropriate because he had a girlfriend, but it just made Randy feel kind of weird. You were a really cool person, sometimes Stu would have known if he ever bothered to say hello to you, and you didn’t deserve to be gawked at while you were trying to work.

“You’ve been looking at that for a while, you need help deciding?” Randy asked, less than subtly catching Stu in the middle of his ogling, not that the latter seemed to care in the least. Randy worked with you all the time, surely he saw what Stu saw.

You were hot.

That wasn’t his fault.

All he did was notice.

“Nah man, I’m good” he hummed, even going as far as to wink at Randy, making it painfully obvious that he knew exactly what he knew. There was nothing wrong with checking out a cute girl, and if anything, he assumed that Randy was just jealous.

After all, Stu was sure that he hadn’t made a move on you yet.

“You know Y/N’s a person right? you could just go talk to her” Randy scoffed, snatching the tape from Stu before he could argue.

This whole thing had been going on for too long and it was starting to get ridiculous.

Stu didn’t say anything for a second as he thought over what Randy was proposing. It couldn’t have hurt to actually talk to you, even with as nice as just staring at you for the last hour or so had been.

There was a small chance Billy wouldn’t like it, with the threat it would pose to their long con it would pose, but when the blonde glanced over at his friend to find him chatting up a few girls of his own, he made up his mind.

It wasn’t like talking to you would be the end of the world or something. It was just a conversation and it was like Randy said, you were a person after all.

You had been stacking VHS tapes on the displays around the store for the last few hours, filling in gaps here and there, and by this point, it was like muscle memory. You didn’t really think about it as you put each case on the wall, hardly paying attention to your surroundings.

This was just supposed to be a job to help pass the time and give you a little bit more walking around money, and you didn’t get paid enough to cater to every customer's every need.

That kind of thing was much more up Randy’s alley, who treated this job like the greatest thing to ever happen to him. If someone had a question about a movie, you pointed them in his direction and kept on stacking.

...but that wasn’t always going to work.

Out of nowhere, you heard someone clear their throat behind you, too close to be directed at anyone that wasn’t you.

Naturally, having worked here for a while, you assumed that it was just someone with a question about where to find something and turned around. Helping people find the things they were looking for was literally your only job, after all.

What you could have never expected was Stu Macher, standing there with an almost expectant grin on his face.

“Can I help you find something?” you asked, practically reciting from the script you were given when you were hired here. He was probably looking for some movie full of Jamie Lee flashing her tits, just like every other guy around here was.

Whatever it was he needed though, he needed to get to it.

You had to restock all of these shelves with titles from the back, a task that would surely keep you here until midnight anyway. 

The longer he took to get to the point, the more behind you would be.

Besides, it wasn’t like he needed you specifically for that. He could have just as easily asked Randy for whatever horny horror fest he was searching for.

Not that such a simple idea had struck Stu in all the time he’d been here, doing whatever it was he was doing.

“I’m actually just looking,” he hummed, shrugging in a way that should have sent him back to where he had previously been browsing, if it hadn’t been for the fact that it was a complete and total lie. 

Stu was only here for one reason, and one reason alone.

He had to make a move.

If he didn’t, it was becoming clear that Randy was thinking about it and there was just no way the blonde was going to let that happen.

“You come here often?” he tried after a few seconds, letting himself lean a bit over you, consuming all the space that your height didn’t occupy.

It was quite the line, you had to give him that, not that it was anything other than awkward given his clumsy, goofy delivery and the dopey look on his face.

He wanted to be cool about this whole thing, and to come off mysterious and suave, like Billy always did, but it wasn’t working. Obviously, because as soon as he said it, you laughed.

You actually laughed.

It was hardly the reaction Stu had been expecting from you, or any guy could have expected under the circumstances, but he assumed it was better than you just shutting him down right off the bat.

At least if you were laughing, you weren’t walking away.

“What?” he laughed, an almost unsettled edge to his desperate attempt to salvage any part of this interaction. Given all the time that he’d had to prepare for what exactly it was he was going to say to you, it should have been much better than that.

...but you had to give him some credit.

As awkward as this was, he put himself out there in a way that took a lot of courage, courage that most guys around here didn’t have. Normally, they would just make some crude attempt at sexualizing you then call you fat when you rejected it.

Stu was already vastly ahead of the douchebags you were used to.

“Nothing, that's just much more of a line than I was expecting, Randy put you up to it?” you questioned, catching sight of the way the male in question was gawking over at the two of you, not even bothering to pretend he wasn’t snooping.

It wouldn’t have surprised you if he set it all up to be funny, but Stu didn’t seem to find the same understanding. In fact, he was almost insulted by the idea of what you were suggesting. Like he couldn't just hit on a pretty girl without a reason?

He’d done it plenty of times before without cause.

“Nah, I just wanted to get to know you a little better” he shrugged, continuing to talk even as you leaned down to gather a few of the movies from the storage boxes, headed to the rom com section to stock them on the shelves.

It was sweet, in a strange way.

He was really weird, you couldn’t act like he wasn’t, but there was also something about him that was almost endearing.

“Well, I’m a captive audience until six so ask away” you allowed, a small smile on your face as you tried to focus on doing your job while also maintaining a conversation with the man in front of you. You were trying really hard to keep it as professional as possible, but it wasn’t exactly easy.

After all, he was laying it on pretty thick, making it overly clear just how interested in you he was even though he was trying to convey an air of casualness.

“Okay, what’s your favorite movie?” came Stu’s voice again, accompanied by the tapping of his fingers on the shelf.

You thought over his question for a second or so, doing your best to figure out what he wanted you to say before you decided to just go with it. Talking to Stu wasn’t the worst thing you would have to do today, and based on how it was going, it might actually help pass the time.

At least he was entertaining.

“It depends on what genre you’re looking at, I guess. I like all kinds of stuff” you decided, standing up briefly to find him leaning over the shelf separating the two of you, his face in his hand.

If nothing else, he certainly seemed to be pretty enthralled with this conversation.

It was something you didn’t get super often, and it would be a lie to say that it didn’t feel nice to have someone so interested in every single word that fell from your lips.

It was no wonder he was so popular.

“I’ve always been a horror guy myself. Like any of those?” he asked, tapping his fingers gingerly on the shelf as he spoke, syncing up his words rather nicely as he grinned at you. He was hoping, not so secretly, that you did.

As much as he was clearly attracted to you, his obsession with gore was a big part of Stu’s life and he didn’t want to miss out on it in any way.

It would just be a huge bonus if you liked watching them with him, so that you could watch them together for date nights and stuff.

It would be a good time, not to mention the fact that he and Billy only ever really did that.

“Yeah, I do. That’s actually why I started working here” you informed, thinking about just how quickly you had applied for this job once you found out they were hiring. Of all the places you could work in this town, it just felt like the place.

It was perfect.

“That’s great, I was hoping you'd say that” Stu allowed, smiling at you as he thought about it. All in all, this was going a lot better than he could have ever assumed and now that he knew he could check the horror block with you too, he was thrilled.

You couldn't have been more perfect for him.

“Maybe we could watch some sometime, at my folks place?” he offered, a twinkle in his eye as he finally got to the point that he’d been waiting for all this time.

The two of you had never really had a conversation alone before now, because his friends were always tagging along. However, it wasn’t as if he’d made too bad a first impression, as strange as he was.

You were kind of lost as to what could have brought this on so suddenly but watching a movie or two at his house couldn’t have been the end of the world.

He was harmless, and besides, it could have been fun to get to know him better.

You stopped, straightening up to look him in the face, that same sly grin there that he hadn’t been able to wipe off his face in this entire time.

“Yeah, we can do that. You can just get my number from Randy and call sometime” you smiled, turning back away to finish up the last of the box from the back. The sooner you finished this up, the sooner you could start cleaning up from the rush.

For you, it was a simple enough suggestion. Randy and the rest of your coworkers all had your telephone number and seeing as they were pretty close, it would just be easier for him to get it there. 

If your manager found out you were flirting on the job, you would never hear the end of it.

Though, for Stu, it was far less innocent. He had only really just interacted with you in this new way but now that he had, he wasn’t exactly a huge fan of Randy already having your number.

Especially not knowing how much the male in question likes you.

“Cool, cool, I’ll talk to you later then” Stu nodded, turning around to find Randy still watching intently. He seemed to really think that he had a shot but now that Stu had made up his mind, there was no way he was ever going to let that happen.

You were too good for him to just let you go so easily.

#Stu macher #ghostface #scream #horror #scary movies #stu macher x reader #stu macher x ps reader #stu macher x plus size reader #stu macher imagine #ghostface x reader #ghostface x ps reader #ghostface x plus size reader #ghostface imagine #scream x reader #scream x ps reader #scream x plus size reader #scream imagine #horror x reader #horror x ps reader #horror x plus size reader #horror imagine #scary movies x reader #scary movies x ps reader #scary movies x plus size reader #scary movies imagine

[wazzupmrstark]

instead of you [part seventeen]

pairing: [best friend’s brother] tom holland x college!reader

summary: you didn’t expect to spend your summer pretending to be your best friend’s girlfriend- then again, you didn’t expect to fall for your best friend’s brother, either.

warnings: swearing, mentions of alcohol +sex

word count: 1.5k

series masterlist

The flight from Naples to Tokyo took fourteen hours, not including the two and a half hour layover in Istanbul, meaning you had sixteen and a half hours to sit in awkward tension-filled silence next to Sam. The tension was one-sided, of course, but it was still agonizing to endure.

You had been able to push your anxiety aside during your last day in Italy because it had been so busy. There had been a power outage in the middle of the night, causing everyone to oversleep and miss the ferry for one of your tours that morning. It had been a scramble to get back on schedule and do as much as possible with the time you had left. The boys had been hungover and their parents were tired of wrangling them. You had dozens of photos on your camera roll of Sam and Harry bickering when they were supposed to be posing for a nice picture, and even more of Tom flicking them off. 

But now you were stuck alone with your thoughts, unable to use distraction as a means to escape. You tried reading your book, but found yourself unable to concentrate on the words on the page. After staring at the same paragraph for over fifteen minutes Sam noticed and asked if you were okay and you finally decided to call it quits. 

You almost wished the Hollands hadn’t scheduled in a day and a half to adjust to the time zone change. You’d rather exhaust yourself with the nonstop tourist bullshit than have to cope with the reality that you had gotten off to thoughts about your best friend’s brother. Not to mention living with the secret that the same best friend’s brother had kissed you not long before that. 

If Sam noticed anything was off, he didn’t mention it. He probably chalked it up to lack of sleep, or perhaps was too tired himself to care. 

“Which one of us do you think will be randomly selected in customs today?” Harry asked, stretching his arms above his head. 

You were standing in the aisle waiting to deplane, placing bets on who’d get searched by border agents this time. Somehow each time you traveled to a new place one of you was always chosen to get pat down or have your carry-on searched. Tom had yet to be the lucky winner, and you suspected it had something to do with his celebrity status. 

“Y/n,” Tom answered easily. “She has the U.S. passport.”

You rolled your eyes. “Like England has a squeaky clean record with Japan.”

“At least we didn’t-”

“Bro, you can’t say the b word on a plane,” Harry interrupted.

“Even when the plane’s on the ground?”

Sam shrugged. “Better safe than sorry.”

“Whatever,” Tom continued. “It’s definitely going to be y/n.”

-

“Would you mind stepping out of line, ma’am?” 

You sighed, not even bothering to look back at the boys. You already knew they were grinning like idiots and you didn’t want to give them the satisfaction. The agent ushered you to the side behind a glass partition, but not before you heard another agent repeat the same question to one of the Hollands. You smiled to yourself, happy not to be the only one singled out.

Behind the privacy screen another agent greeted you and asked you to take your sweatshirt off, explaining that it was too baggy and needed to be checked. You saw other people in baggy clothes who weren’t getting pulled out of line, but assumed they didn’t have the red flag of “U.S. Citizen” printed on their identification that would be cause for any additional suspicion. You complied with the agent’s request and pulled your sweatshirt off for them to further inspect.

You were glad you’d worn a sports bra underneath your sweatshirt because you usually didn’t wear anything underneath them. As soon as your head was out of the pullover you immediately met by Tom’s polite smile. 

He averted his eyes as soon as he saw you, pausing his conversation with the official to mumble a quiet ‘sorry’ to you as he was shown to the spot next to yours. 

You zoned out as they spoke, only aware of him again when he started unbuckling his belt. You caught his eye this time. 

“Forgot to take it off,” he explained.

“Sweatshirt’s too loose.”

You both faced forward as the customs officials proceeded through the motions. You were stuck standing there half-naked with your arms wrapped around your chest self-consciously while an agent pat Tom’s legs down. 

“Dad said we can meet them at baggage claim,” Tom said after a few moments of silence between the two of you. “They went on without us.”

“Okay,” you squeaked back in response. 

You knew it wouldn’t take long, but it still made you nervous to be alone with Tom. Sam was like a safety blanket, or a buffer between you and him and without him you were afraid it would be painfully awkward. 

The woman handed you your sweatshirt back and you had to wait for Tom outside of the screening area. He joined you a minute or so later.

“They find any dirt on you?” you asked from where you were leaning against the wall across from the exit. 

“Nope, you?”

“Yeah, actually I’m in custody right now. Can’t believe you missed the handcuffs.”

“Man, what’d they get you for?” 

“Identity theft,” you sighed. 

“Damn, that’s a bummer,” Tom replied, false sympathy rolling off his words. 

He cocked his head in the direction the rest of his family had went, indicating that you should get going, and held out a hand to pull you upright. You took it hesitantly and let him help you. 

“I was actually hoping you could bail me out?” you went on, continuing with the bit. 

Tom made a sound through his teeth and grimaced. “I’m kinda broke right now.”

“Aren’t you an actor?”

“Sorry, but I think you have me confused with someone else.”

“No, you’re definitely the guy!”

“You’re thinking of Tom Hiddleston,” he insisted.

“Remember that IOU you gave me? I’m cashing it in now.”

“That’s not how it works!” 

You laughed. “No, but if I ever actually get arrested I’m using my IOU to get you to bail me out of jail.”

“I don’t think that a kiss and getting bailed out of prison are comparable, but I didn’t put any conditions on that postcard, did I?”

“Nope!” You smiled happily.

“Well that’s on me, so...”

You took the shuttle together to the other side of the airport where the rest of the Hollands were waiting and finally found them with all of your luggage at the furthest carousel from the entrance. 

“It’s about time!” Harry yelled over the crowd as soon as he saw you. 

Sam grinned when he saw you and you couldn’t help but grin back. He wrapped an arm around you instinctively and you relaxed into his shoulder, relieved to be with him again. It hadn’t dawned on you until that moment just how attached you were, but you didn’t have time to dwell on it because the other Hollands were all looking at you expectantly.

“Did everything go okay?” Nikki asked. 

Tom nodded. “They made y/n strip, but it was uneventful otherwise.”

You pursed your lips, cheeks burning. “It was just my sweatshirt!” you hissed to Sam. 

“Yeah, but you never wear anything under your sweatshirts!” Sam hissed back.

“I had a bra on this time.”

“Oh, so it was just another night at the bar for you?” You wrestled yourself out of Sam’s grasp at that and glared. “Am I wrong?”

Sam’s dad cut in before you could respond. He had a habit of calling “family meetings” in the middle of public spaces to finalize plans and get everybody on the same page, which was always an experience. 

“Alright, gather up, gang!” he said, beckoning you all closer. “So we’ll be staying at... this hotel,” he explained and turned his phone around to show you the name of it. “And the thing is, we have two rooms to share between the six of us. One for your mother and I, and another for you four.”

“What?” Sam asked. “You’re going to make us stay with them?”

“I thought we were getting three rooms like every other time,” Tom chimed in.

“We were meant to, but I made a mistake when booking it,” Dom clarified.

“How?”

“The entire website was in Japanese, Sam. I don’t know Japanese!”

“Dad, Google has a translate webpage option!” Harry groaned.

“Well no one told me that while I was booking this entire trip by myself!”

You traded a look with Tom, who looked just as panicked as you felt. But it would only be for a week. You would find a way to manage. You didn’t really have any other option.

“I’m sure it’ll be fun,” Sam tried, forcing a smile.

“That’s the spirit!” Dom cheered. “We’ll make it work.”

sorry she’s short this week :( but lmk what you think i always appreciate feedback!!

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[notanotherreidgirl]

Ruin Me

Summary: Spencer has been very needy and bratty so Reader teaches him a lesson

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Warnings: 18+, handjob, edging, degradation, exhibitionism/public sex, ruined orgasm, mommy kink

Word Count: 1220

A/N: I combined this request with this one. This is part of the Mommy Kink Collection

You were gripping your wine glass in your hand so tightly it was a miracle it didn’t shatter. Saying you were mad was an understatement. Furious would be more accurate or maybe livid. Spencer would have a thesaurus full of descriptors for your current mood but if anyone asked you would settle for pissed. 

You were absolutely pissed and it was taking everything in you not to grab Spencer and drag him out the door. But you were in Strauss’ home in heels with half the department milling about talking about recent cases and budget cuts so you plastered on a smile and did your best to make small talk. Spencer popped another hor d’oeuvre in his mouth and shot you a cheeky smile from across the room, turning back to the gaggle of female agents fawning over him. 

He was trying to get back at you for denying him all day. He had been insatiable - constantly touching your arm, your waist, your hand. When you left the BAU he had slipped into the elevator behind you, pulling you in close enough to feel his prominent arousal. But you were resolute in your denial, pointing out that you were already running late and reminding him of how Hotch had reacted the last time you had skipped a departmental mixer. 

But he wouldn’t stop. Trying to get in the shower with you, pawing at you while you got undressed, kissing you while you put on makeup (nearly ruining your eyeliner), and whining when you pulled his coat on and ushered him out the door. But Spencer, ever the magician, had a few tricks up his sleeve. As soon as you pulled in he produced his glasses from his jacket pocket, smirking a bit as he put them on and slid out the car. Those stupid, beautiful glasses that perfectly framed his doe eyes and turned your brain to mush. Strike 1

To make matters worse he stayed away from you for the entire party, suddenly becoming a social butterfly and talking up every impressionable agent in his vicinity. He regaled them with stories of cases, filled their drinks for them, stood much too close for comfort. He was even doing magic tricks for god’s sake!

Nonetheless you kept your cool, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of a response. That was until one of them reached up and plucked his glasses from his face and put them on, striking a little pose and smiling up at him. His eyes darted over to you, knowing this was a step too far but he made no move to take them back. You held his gaze as you set your glass down and made your way to him. Despite his trepidation, you could make out the triumphant look in his eyes. The look that meant his plan had succeeded. Strike 2

You grabbed his arm harshly, pulling him to you and practically snatching the glasses from the poor agent’s face and tossing them in your purse. “I think Dr. Reid has forgotten something”

He stumbled a little. “Um I-I don’t think I forgot anything”

But you were already hauling him into an empty room and closing the door behind your back. “Really? Because it seems to me that you’ve forgotten who you belong to”

“And who’s fault is that?” he clamped his mouth shut as soon as he said it. Strike 3

You stalked forwards, forcing him to back up against a desk. “Watch yourself, baby. I will fuck that attitude right out of you” 

You expected him to launch into one of his well-practiced apologies but he only bit his lip, holding your gaze. It seemed your boy was committed to being a brat tonight. You gave him a sly, indecipherable smile as your hand drifted downwards. He whined, desperate to relieve the tightness in his pants and the ragged sigh he let out when you freed him lit a fire in the pit of your stomach. “Is this what you want? For me to stroke your little cock with the Director of the FBI in the other room?”

“Y-yes, Mommy. I want you so much. Wanted you all day” he squeezed his eyes shut, barely stifling the soft moans slipping out from his throat. There was no trace of his earlier arrogance in his voice now, just the desperate pleas of an exceptionally disobedient little boy. His hips bucked into your hand in anticipation of his growing release but you withdrew your hand at the last moment. He let out a low whine as his orgasm was extinguished. “No, no, no. Mommy please. I didn’t mean it. I didn’t mean to be bad. I promise I’ll never do it again just please let me cum”

You pretended to consider his offer, tilting your head to the side. “Hmmm, you promise?”

He nodded his head emphatically. “I promise, Mommy!”

You grasped him once again, collecting the precum that gathered at the head and spreading it down his length. He threw his head back, knowing that his release would be doubly powerful as a result of your earlier denial. You pumped him faster bringing him closer and closer to the edge until he started to tremble underneath you. Then without warning you pulled away.

For an agonizing second, Spencer thought he had been denied once again but then reflex took over. The electricity running down his spine petered out at the very end for an inadequate finish, leaving him deeply unsatisfied and feeling completely wrong. His cock spasmed pathetically, devoid of any stimulation, and a weak stream of thick cum leaked out. His mouth fell open soundlessly, a whimper caught in the back of his throat. He was still hard. If anything his erection demanded more attention than before but he didn’t dare touch it, knowing that he was much too sensitive.

“You said I could come” His voice was thick with emotion. A spark of pity ignited in your chest but you were quick to recall the image of Spencer flirting with those agents earlier, effectively squelching any possibility of mercy. 

“And you did, didn’t you?” It wasn’t the same. You knew it wasn’t but you gestured to the cum on his boxers all the same. He wanted to protest further but he wasn’t willing to risk more punishment. Instead he watched wordlessly, wincing slightly as you tucked him into his pants and pulled him to his feet. He shifted uncomfortably, already feeling the cum soak his underwear and begin to run down his leg. He looked at you, face etched with worry. “Are we going home now?”

“Nope. Mommy’s got work to do.” Your earlier anger had prevented you from doing any networking but that wasn’t a problem anymore. You fished his glasses from your purse and slipped them back on his face. “Do you think you can be a good boy for me now?”

He glanced down at his pants and nervously twisted his hands together. His mind whirred, calculating how long it would take until his situation became noticeable while trying to deduce how long you were planning on making him walk around a house full of profilers and skilled FBI agents with his boxers full of cum. “Yes, I can be good”

“That’s what I like to hear”

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