#why is there a cursed clown on my dash

[autistic-puffin]

*sobbing* can someone please make this damn clown go away 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭 (i have hidden the creepy clown beneath the keep reading so you will not be forced to see it too if this is only a me problem)

#image id in alt text #but also for the love of god please make this clown go away #why is there a cursed clown on my dash #if i click or right click on them everything gets worse #please make the clown go away #evil clown #on my dash

[mid-nightowl]

untitled lil fic #1 (jason todd and gotham war)

here's some gotham war rewrites i needed to get out of my head, the brainrot was killing me omg

warnings for violence, cursing, whatever the hell Bruce is doing (just Bruce as a full warning tag, the man is more unhinged than Joker in this)

---

“Oh Jason. How I’ve missed you, my sweet boy.”

The words are sickeningly sweet, poison-saturated words falling from bloody red lips. Delivered with a crooked smile, Joker looks up at him, uncaring at his position. His fingers curl in the clown’s suit collar, lips curling with a snarl.

Jason punches him again, the clown’s jaw cracking and his body straining against the ferry railing. Joker merely giggles, head lolling around through the air before his mismatched eyes meet his mask. 

“Shut the fuck up!” He snaps, unholstering his gun and digging the muzzle into Joker’s cheek.

His murderer raises his hands, waggling his fingers in surrender, grinning and smirking and smiling. 

He hates it, he hates it, he hates it. 

“I want you to think about this real carefully,” He digs his gun into his skin. “This could be the last joke you ever make, you understand? That’s what you want to go with?”

“You know,” His nightmare giggles, chuckles like a wind-up toy before he wipes the amusement off his face. The clown looks up at him, head tilted, pleased and patient and thoughtful. There’s not a single sliver of hate and destructive menace, or anger or disappointment or suspicion. 

Wrong, wrong, wrong, he thinks. There’s something wrong here. There’s something wrong with Joker—and not in the usual way. 

“The best jokes deliver a difficult truth, but hide it with a fun fiction,” Joker explains, smushed but coherent words strung together despite the gun halfway in his mouth. “Without humor all we have left is being mean and lying.”

“What?” He can’t stop the words before they stumble out of his mouth. He doesn’t let the gun go lax in his hand despite the way the clown’s words throw him off guard. 

Off-kilter is a genuine feeling that digs into him, shocking him to the core. The clown does this, he knows it. He knows this is how he does things, how he worms his way out of every situation and every attempted manslaughter, he knows how the clown operates, intimately. 

Jason knows him. 

Joker, historically, has been so many things. But he’s always been a psychotic, impulsive mass-murderer. Someone without restraint, without limitation. 

It’s why he’s always been Batman’s true nemesis. Bruce, he needs a fine-tuned control of everything and everyone. He is someone who has limits and restraint. 

Controlled, focused, and without limitations—Jason is almost the happy medium to both of them. 

Almost.

The three of them are similar, different, opposites and identical. It’s like walking in one of those mirror mazes where you can’t tell who the real you is. 

Who is the real Bruce Wayne? The man who cherishes his children or the one who maims them?

Who is the real Joker? The cold, purposeful mass murderer or the dumped-in-acid man who can’t tell the difference?

Who is the real Jason Todd? The bloody crime lord or the declawed crowbar wielding vigilante?

Joker simply smiles and pats his arm, as if Jason’s not trying to kill him.

He slams the clown against the railing again, snarling. 

“Enough games!” He growls and flips the safety off. The noise doesn’t even phase Joker, if anything he grins harder. His mismatched eyes—one red-brown, one green—flick above them before returning to his. 

“Are you really going to use that big bad gun of yours with Daddy watching? He’ll be so mad at you.” His murderer grins, letting his head hang limply in his grasp.

“What? Batman-!” He jerks back, head snapping up to the ferry roof cover. 

Empty. No looming monster demanding a painful compromise is here.

Joker’s hands push him back, and he grunts, stumbling into the ferry wall. The clown tumbles over the railing, disappearing from view. His laughter haunting the air. 

“No!” He shouts, dashing to the railing. 

The clown is gone under the waves and ice, sinking into the dark of Gotham Harbor. 

He’s not dead. He can’t be dead, Jason thinks, gripping the ice-cold railing, I haven’t killed him yet.

He’s not dead.

But that was mean. 

--

The last words Jason hears remind him of his grave. 

No, not the one he was buried in. Six feet of dirt above him and smothered in satin, watched over by that stupid weeping angel.

There’s a memorial in the cave with his name. ‘Good soldier’ and nothing else but his name. Both of them: Jason Todd and Robin. 

A monument to Bruce’s failure, his greatest mistake, a grave to his complicated teenage years, his love. 

“You’ve always been a good soldier. Rest now.” Bruce told him, jabbing him in the neck with the needle. 

A grave, a memorial, a monument. It makes him sick. The reminder that he will always be the dead Robin, the sad Robin, the angry Robin. 

Dead, dead, dead.

The violence done to him, inflicted and imprinted into his skin and bones was more important. The guilt and the lesson were more important than his cries for justice, for his life’s blood.

The monument and altar, raised after his murder, were never for him, but for Bruce.

He was dead, why would he care?

The story Bruce will tell would never be the truth, just excuses and wrong-doings. He would take accountability after the fact, but not before. 

Bruce would let his murderer walk and let him rot. 

Maybe that was why he buried Jason six feet under, so he wouldn’t have to face the decay and decomposition. That he could keep this golden, blurry image of him as Robin, as the straight A student, the good son. And not a weightless body splinted a thousand different ways to look human. 

But now that he’s resurrected—not in Bruce’s image, but as something broken and jagged, something lost and filled with dirt and green-green-green—Bruce refuses to acknowledge him. Refuses to believe this is who he is. 

Refuses to believe that he remade (destroyed) himself from the ruins, from the broken bones and empty veins and black thread that mended his corpse back into the image of Jason Todd. Refuse to think that if a girl can come back as a soothsayer, that a boy can come back as a gun. 

“Hnnng…Bruce,” Jason groans softly, heaving himself off the couch. 

Batman turns to him, looming with his face mask in his hands. The fluorescent lights, a nauseous lime-yellow, cut over his figure, his face, his mask. Almost a green-green-green, almost a pool of rage, almost a pit of madness.

His mask crackles alive in Bruce’s hands, Selina’s voice wavering between annoyance and worry. 

“Red Hood? Hood, please check in and let me kno-” Batman clicks his comm off. 

The resounding silence smothers him. 

His exhale comes out shaky, his heart beating too fast behind his bruised ribs, a chill crawling over his exposed skin. 

Something’s wrong. Something is very wrong. 

“...Batman? You…” He swallows roughly, mouth filled with dirt and blood and thread. “Wha…What did you do?”

“Nothing I’m proud of, Jason.” 

His heart sinks and skips a beat at the same time, stomach twisting with anxiety and fingers trembling against the ugly brown couch cushions.

Inhale. 

He pushed too much.

Taking Selina’s side?

He went too far.

Hood didn’t kill anyone?

Exhale. 

“Hh! Ho…” Jason croaks, getting his boots on the ground. “Y-you…you..”

“Take deep breaths, Jason.” Batman turns back to the computer hub glowing behind him, ignoring his attempts to speak, to demand answers. 

His arms shake as he holds himself upright, but when he tries to stand instead he chokes, falling to his knees in front of the couch. Gasping for air, he lays his palms flat against the cool tiles. His legs are quivering, heavy and unable to hold his weight. 

His whole body trembles with it, this feeling unfolding through his blood and bones, engulfing his head and voice. 

Fear, fear, fear.

“Years ago I created my backup personality, Zur, using techniques I learned from an old mentor and this machine that I built,” Batman starts, monitoring the screens in front of him with one hand on the keyboard and the other on his belt.

Bruce doesn’t turn to look at him, to face him, someone he calls son, someone he considers family, and explain what he’s done to Jason.

He never has. 

“I can’t change your personality with it, Jason…” Batman sighs, low and quiet. “But I can add to it. A small thing: your failsafe.” 

Failsafe. He slams the heel of his palm on the floor, cheeks tingling with his telltale sign of tears. A failsafe?!

Because Red Hood needs a failsafe instead of justice.

“What?!” He tries to snarl, to hiss and yell and scream his rage. But his voice fails him, anxiety chewing at his throat and tongue, voice tilting too high, too unsteady, too weak. 

“Now when you have heightened adrenaline, when you’re about to do something dangerous, your fear kicks in,” Batman continues explaining. “It…I’m sorry Jason. But it’s the only way.” He clenches his eyes shut—inhale, exhale, inhale, exhale—and tries to ignore his rabbit heart battering against its cage, pounding to the frantic rhythm of fear, fear, fear.

“I love you.” 

The words feel like gunshots, the knuckle prints on his skin after the two of them fought over Penguin, the smack of Selina’s whip against his fingers, the crowbar on his skull, his legs, his ribs, over and over and over. 

“I love you, but you are a murderer,” Bruce condemns him, over and over again. “You’re a bull in a china shop and I go round after round with you, trying to figure out how to help make you a better man, to heal you.” 

“H-heal me?” He whispers, rage cut off at the roots. “This isn’t…this isn’t you, Bruce.”

Batman, finally, turns to Jason. He looms, tall and foreboding, darkness dripping around him, drenching him in fear, fear, fear. 

Batman takes a step forward and he crashes back against the couch, spine digging into the wooden frame painfully. 

He can’t breathe. Batman moves and he knows it in his bones, knows it down to the scars Gotham and its guardian have left on him, that he’s not here to save him, to help him. 

“I got you a new identity. A place in Metropolis.” Batman keeps walking forward, despite Jason’s growing hyperventilation, despite the way his blunted nails scratch at the floor. Despite the way he shakes, black stitches snapping apart, the pieces of him falling to the floor of this slaughterhouse, at the feet of his butcher. 

“B-bat…Batman,” He whimpers, hand twisting into the fabric of his suit. 

“You can live a normal life. Fall in love, do meaningful work. This isn’t punishment, Jason,” Batman kneels in front of him and removes the cowl. “I love you.” Jason shrinks back, shoulders back and legs curled to his chest. Bruce’s face is sharp and pale, with bags under his eyes and days old stubble on his jaw. 

His eyes are dark with absolute rage. 

Batman is going to hurt him. Batman is going to hurt him.

Bruce is going to hurt him again. 

“This is a gift. Any way you look at it, you should be in prison for all the people you’ve killed,” He chokes at Bruce’s words, barely smothering the terrified cry in his throat. “This is me saving you from that. Save you from yourself.”

Jason can only stare at the man before him—the man who took him in, who raised and trained him, who loved him—does his best to bury him.

fear, fear, fear. 

--

“Please..don’t…please,” Jason pleads, covering the girl with his frame, caging her in with his bruised and burnt arms.

“Let’s begin.” Scarecrow’s voice reverberates, it shakes through air to match his erratic breathing.

“P-please, I’ll do anything you want, anything,” He begs, fear, fear, fear burning in his veins. “Please. Just stay…stay away.” 

Scarecrow closes the gap between them, rocking back and forth on his crooked, long legs. His mask distorts and mutates, a familiar green-green-green splashing over the darkened void of his gas mask.

“You’re going to die tonight. I know you know this,” Crane looms over him, green-green-green trickling out his eyes, gushing out like an open wound. “But we can still have fun, can’t we.” 

The girl trembles underneath his chest and Jason tries to smother the whimper begging to pour out his lips. It’s gnawing at him—rabbit heart frantic in his chest, hands trembling from the burning pain and anxiety, smoke and ash gathering in his lungs—fear, fear, fear.

He can’t think of anything else. 

“Those fools were right. Your terror…it’s real and it isn’t mine,” Scarecrow sneers, kneeling in front of him. “There is no thrill in driving terror into the heart of a baby bird.” 

Scarecrow takes his jaw in his hand, needles tickling at his exposed skin, forcing Jason to look at him. He can’t help but jerk his head at Crane’s touch, needles pricking into his cheek when Crane holds him tighter, another inescapable cage around him. 

His chest heaves with every shaky inhale-exhale, his anxious fear fanning over the rogue’s mask. Scarecrow leans in closer, the glass over his eyes gleaming, reflecting the fire roaring around them. Jason can hear the screams in them, watching the shadows morph around them and the straw on Crane’s shoulders wiggle. 

“This is my moment of triumph, and it is snatched away from me by..by him?!” Scarecrow shakes Jason’s head in his hand, needles scratching into his skin but still not drawing blood.

Scarecrow lets his head drop, needles disappearing from his sight before they’re clawing at his throat, wet and cold against his clammy skin. Jason whimpers and clenches his eyes shut, unable to do anything but beg. 

He knows praying for someone to help him is futile. 

No one is coming to save him. 

“Never let it be said Scarecrow has no pity,” Crane says, voice cutting in and out his head like radio static. “I will quickly finish what your daddy started.” 

“Doesn’t mommy get a say?”

A voice slices through the flames licking at his skin and the fear smothering him. And when Jason’s gaze finds him, he can’t help the tears. 

“Step away from the vigilante, pervert.” Joker grins, dark red lips stretched too wide, too thin. Ash rains down on his green-green-green umbrella, rolling down the crooked dark patches and shamrock-colored nylon. 

“You’ve already killed him once. It’s time you learned to share, Clown.” Scarecrows speaks with thin, razor-sharp disdain, glaring over his shoulder at the newcomer. 

“You should know this by now, Doc. I don’t play well with others.” The clown throws aside the umbrella, knife materializing from thin air as he descends upon Scarecrow.

“You’re not even really him, are you? Do you think I don’t know about you? Delusions and megalomania with-” Scarecrow baits and taunts the clown, before the two of them are ducking and weaving and slicing at each other with barely concealed rage and annoyance. 

“Blah, blah, blah. Do you know why you’re always going to be a C-List villain, Johnny?” Joker jokes and Jason can imagine the sharp grin on his face. “Because doctors aren’t scary. They’re annoying.”

He ducks his head down and curls tighter around the girl. She cries underneath him, hiccups soft under the roar of flames closing in on them, the screech of metal on metal and creaking of deteriorating wood. 

He can’t move. He can’t do anything but try to breathe. But all he tastes is smoke, choking him, billowing down his throat and in his lungs. His heartbeat is so loud, jumping under its bone-cage, a heady, heavy thing—badump-badump-badump-badump. It’s too fast, erratic, out of control.

“You’re a bull in a china shop and I go round after round with you, trying to figure out how to help make you a better man, to heal you-”

Always out of control. Jason whines, hands scrambling against the wood below him. It burns, seering through his fingertips. It hurts-it hurts-it hurts, he can’t do this. He can’t.

He can’t breathe.

“Ahhhh! Ack! Achhhhh!” Scarecrow screams, guttural and wobbly and when he looks up, Jason can only watch as Crane crashes through the fifth story window. 

Tears continue to stream down his face, his heart trembling in his chest and the realization strikes him then, cracking down on his skull like a crowbar, over and over and over. 

Joker saved him. Joker saved him. Joker saved him. 

His murderer saved him.

 “A-are you real?!” Jason cries out, fingers curling into the withering floorboards. “Is this real?!” 

“Oh, don’t worry about him. I didn’t even give him a real dose of Joker Gas. I ran out. Heh!” Joker laughs, rubbing at his jaw. Blood and green-green-green stain the edges of his mouth, smeared down his chin and throat before disappearing under the orange sweatshirt he’s wearing. 

“But now, it’s just you and me. And…your daughter? Did you have a daughter and not tell me?” The clown tilts his head in question, tucking away the green-green-green gun in his hand. He steps closer, uncaring of the flames licking over his pale skin.  

Jason can’t tell if it's real or an illusion, can’t tell if his murderer is here and saving? rescuing? tricking? him. He can’t tell if this is just another nightmare he’s trapped himself in, or if this is the real punishment Bruce promised him. 

“She’s just a kid. Please…don’t,” He pleads, the tears searing down his ash-stained cheeks. 

Joker leans down, bringing his face close to Jason’s. His mismatched eyes—one green, one red-brown—bore into his and the clown smiles, too wide, too cracked and broken, too bloody and green-green-green. 

He sobs, cracking under everything. He can’t do this, he can’t. 

“My, my. Even like this you still think you’re the hero. Batman would be proud if he didn’t hate you,” His murderer says, before his bony hand is cupping Jason’s face, calloused fingers dancing over his skin. 

Jason clenches his jaw when it threatens to wobble and tremble, but knows the fear is shining in his eyes. Knows the clown can see it, knows he recognizes it in his baby-blues. He’s been here before.

They’ve been here before, together. 

“But don’t worry my sweet boy, I’ll find a way to fix you. Nobody is going to hurt you. I won’t let them. Because I need you.” His voice is honeyed and threatening, curling and clawing and cloying into his head like a sickness. Joker pets his hair, gentle and caring, and Jason knows he means it. 

He’s going to fix him. He’s going to heal him. 

He’s going to save Jason.

“Don’t worry, sweet boy. We’ll see each other soon,” Joker pats his cheek with a crooked green-green-green smile. “I promise.” 

His heart beats frantic to the words—fear, fear, fear—eyes unable to look away from Joker.

Jason believes him.

#unholy screeching and too much caffeine #my writing #the brainrot was literally killing me i wish i was joking #havent been able to FOCUS on anything else #i just cant get over divorced batjokes playing tug-of-war with their murderous and highly traumatized kid (jason) #im not entirely sure if i like this? it feels very rough draft to me #but i really just needed to get it down and out of my head so i can focus on my other wips T-T #would also love to hear anyone's thoughts if they have any<3 #might have missed some grammar stuff and yadda yadda but im kind of tired of looking at this:)))) #i do think i want to add to it thou--maybe a scene with selina another with the batkids #ill probably come back to this after the final issue for the actual event (which comes out next week!) and joker's comic #i just really wanted to write how jason was dealing with all this; how he might take the fact that joker is saving his ass rather than bruc #but im not sure if it came across the way i wanted it to?? #jason todd #jason todd and bruce wayne #jason todd and joker #writing

[ultram0th]

31 Days of Derek Hale

Day 13: Clown

Info │ 01 │ 02 │ 03 │ 04 │ 05 │ 06 │ 07 │ 08 │ 09 │ 10 │ 11 │ 12 │ 13

Derek practically whimpered like a wolf pup as he watched his husband, Stiles, slowly slump to the couch. The usually vibrant and cheerful human had been going through some hardships at work, and it’d really affected his mood; thus, the normally smiley and singsongy Stiles was all gray and sulky. The alpha werewolf frowned as he saw Stiles’s thin shoulders rise and fall with a sigh.

On a normal day, Derek was the grumpy one, mad at the world and scowling at every living creature that dared to cross his path; and Stiles would be his anchor, calming him down with a simple kiss on the cheek or by placing a warm hand on his broad shoulder. Now that the roles were evidently reversed, Derek was struggling to find out the right things to do/say, empathy never really being one of his strong suits.

“Babe?” Derek asked as he walked over to the couch and placed a hand on his husband’s shoulder as he would’ve done had the roles been swapped. “Um… have you tried not thinking about it?”

Stiles’s frown deepened and he rubbed at his temples, making Derek feel guilty.

Derek flinched and quickly tried to make things better. “Got a headache?” he asked, already dashing to the bathroom. “I’ll grab you some Ibuprofen!”

As Derek leaned over the sink, images of his sad husband kept replaying in his mind, making him grimace. He felt guilty for not being able to cheer up Stiles like he would do for him whenever he was moody. He couldn’t help but feel a little helpless and, what was worse, was that whenever he felt like this, it was usually Stiles who convinced him of otherwise with a little corny joke.

Derek loved his husband with all of his heart, and it pained him to see Stiles sad. He missed his smile, he missed his laugh.

“Damn it,” Derek cursed under his breath, “I wish I could cheer him up.”

The second the words left his mouth, Derek felt a shudder ripple through him. The sensation morphed into an odd tingling that consumed his whole body before fading, but not before being reduced to a tickle that actually made Derek laugh.

“Hyuck! Hyuck!” Derek guffawed, his normal throaty chuckle sounding more like a cartoonish wail that was comically deep. The werewolf jerked back and cleared his throat, wondering why he’d just laughed like that.

He shook it away and opened up the mirror cabinet to grab some Ibuprofen for Stiles, gasping when he saw his reflection after closing it.

His normally jet-black hair was green! Derek dropped the small pills in shock as he ran a shaky hand through his green hair, his eyes wide at the vibrant color that would without a doubt, draw a lot of attention his way. 

“What’s, *giggle, wrong with my hair— Hyuck! Hyuck!” Derek laughed again. This time, he finally realized that he’d been smiling the entire time. Although he was confused and slightly panicked over what was happening to him, his face looked alight with zeal. His pearly whites were on full display, which brought about something new to him. Derek had always had larger front teeth, Stiles sometimes referring to them as Bunny Teeth, but his eyes widened when he saw them grow in size until they protruded over his bottom lip, effectively giving him over-exaggerated buck teeth.

Derek barely had time to react to his large teeth before he witnessed his nose shudder. Its skin reddened drastically until it looked cherry red, even taking on a shimmery sheen. It then steadily inflated, rounding out until Derek had a red clown nose affixed to his face.

“I look ridiculous!” Derek giggled, still grinning widely despite his inner panic.

The altered werewolf’s first thought was to rush to Stiles, knowing that his husband would figure out what was happening to him. Derek quickly hurried out of the bathroom, stumbling over his feet as he moved. Derek’s eyes widened even further when he witnessed his feet elongating past their usual size thirteen, growing comically huge with large stumpy toes capping them. 

With each step he took, Derek’s new feet slapped loudly against the hardwood floors and he struggled to maintain his balance. His gait resembled someone more clumsy, struggling to walk a straight line. He kept bouncing against the walls, knocking over pictures and causing a ruckus as he moved.

With a loud giggle, Derek waddled into the living room where Stiles moped. His husband took one look at him and scrunched up his eyebrows in confusion. 

“Der?” he asked. “What are you doing?”

Instead of asking for help, Derek heard himself laugh, “Hyuck! Hyuck! I heard that there’s someone who’s a little down!” He cringed at how he was acting, this cheery clown attitude a direct contrast with his usual self.

Stiles just stared blankly ahead. “Huh?”

“Want a balloon?” Derek happily asked. “I got a real big one for you!”

With large, flailing motions, Derek searched all around his clothes. His busy show wouldn’t allow him to display his shock over the bright neon colors that his black clothes had been magically dyed to. Derek felt as if he were a passenger in his own body, hearing himself speak and feeling himself move, but he didn’t have any control. He was helpless as he behaved like some sugary sweet clown, unable to stop smiling and giggling the entire time.

When Derek couldn’t find a balloon, he frowned before perking up with an a-ha motion. Pursing his lips and whistling through his large buck teeth, he unzipped his now bright yellow pants and let them fall to the ground. 

He exaggeratedly gasped as he looked down at his soft cock, grabbing at his green hair. “Oh no!” he chirped. “You don’t want that small balloon!” 

He winced at calling himself small, but then flinched when he saw the corner of Stiles’s mouth slowly pull upward. Seeing Stiles doing so sent a fluttering feeling through Derek’s chest, and he started to feel a little excited, his panic steadily fading.

Derek felt himself stick his thumb in his mouth and take in a deep breath, puffing out his chest. He then puffed out his cheeks and acting like he was blowing air into himself, pausing every so often to take a deep breath.

Stiles let out a little chuckle.

Derek felt himself perk up, his cock instantly rocketing to attention. It swelled up and stood out in front of him. Derek dropped his thumb from his mouth and gestured towards his hard cock.

“Ta-da!” he cheered, puffing his chest back out and setting his hands onto his hips proudly as he pushed his hips forward so that his rock hard member was closer to his husband.

Finally, Stiles’s face broke out into a loud smile and he started to laugh.

At seeing his husband finally laughing and being able to see his beautiful smile again, Derek’s cock throbbed and began to leak precum. His own smile was back in full force.

“Oh, thank you, Der,” Stiles cooed as he sat up and gave his husband a big hug. “You always know how to cheer me up.”

“Hyuck! Hyuck!” Derek guffawed, his face blushing wildly as Stiles kissed his cheek lovingly. Seeing the love of his life smiling again, Derek figured that as long as it made his husband happy, he was fine with being a werewolf clown.

#31 days of derek hale #derek hale #tyler hoechlin #Clown #Clown TF #Hair change #voicechange #foot growth #loss of control #stiles stilinski #sterek

[thegrinchwhostolechristmas]

Introduction to my Tumblr page??

This feels so awkward. I don't know why..

Okay anyway.

Hi, I'm Alex and this is the first introduction to any social media account I've ever made so sorry if it's not good.

I will just start off by explaining the image.

In the top left corner is what kind of music I like. I didn't want it to fill up too much so what I have on there right now is Mitski, Korn, The Cure, and The Misfits. But besides those four bands, I also like Mindless Self Indulgence, The Cure, System of A Down, The Garden, Creature Feature, Xasthur, My Chemical Romance, Deftones, Alien Sex Fiend, The Naked And The Dead, Aurelio Voltaire, Will Wood, Will Wood and the Tapeworms, Jack Conte, Lemon Demon, Queen, Birds Fear Death, Ghost, Melanie Martinez, Ramones, Pixies, TV Girl, Puzzle, Skinny Puppy, Oingo Boingo, and Soft Cell. Those are most of the Artists I listen to that I like four or more songs from.

Below the picture of music artists I like, there are three games I like to play. Like a Dino!, Nyan Cat: Lost in space, and Pastel Friends. I think I can say Like a Dino! is a music based game, and it almost reminds me of Magic Tiles 3, a game I used to play when I was younger. Nyan Cat also has music but a lot of meowing in it. I like Nyan Cat because of the sound effects and I personally find it a fun game. I also like how you can customize your cat. Pastel Friends is just a basic dress up game. I love dress up games where I get to create little characters. I don't know why, but it probably ties into how I used to be a cringy gacha kid when I was younger, but who the hell knows 🤷 It's fun and I think it's cute. But besides those three games I also like to play Fun Run 3, Geometry Lite, Geometry Dash, SubZero, Doki Doki Literature Club, Baldi's Basics, Custom Cast, Goat Simulator, Minecraft, and Gacha Life 2. Gacha Life 2 is only to dress up and make cute characters again, I promise I do not participate in any Gacha Heat 😞🙏

Below the games there are three movies. Pirates of the Caribbean 1: The Curse of the Black Pearl, Pirates of the Caribbean 2: Dead Man's Chest, and Pirates of the Caribbean 3: At World's End. POTC 3 is my ultimate favorite though. My favorite character is Hector Barbossa and he is just such a good character in my opinion! I do not wanna say too much because I'm afraid I might spoil something, but he owns a monkey named Jack and I remember a specific scene at the end of one of the movies Hector is seen baby talking Jack (not Sparrow).

On the right side of the movies, there is an anime I really liked and have for four years. HunterxHunter!!! I love it so much I have no idea why. Like I hate so many of the characters, like that stupid clown Hisoka, and there's also the bald lemon head looking bald grandpa in the Zoldyck family, but it's not Zeno. But besides that, I find it a nice anime.

On top of HunterxHunter, there's two people I made in Pastel Friends. Me on the left and my girlfriend on the right. I will not say her name for her own sake but she is the best and I'd do anything for her. We were friends for a year before we got into a relationship and she's the most perfect person I've ever met.

On top of my girlfriend and I is Illumi Zoldyck. There is not much to say. I just like him :P

And on top of Illumi, there is the unlabeled flag. I hope its not outdated, I kind of rushed making this whole thing. But I do not have any labels on my gender/sexuality. I am not cis, demi-boy, demi-girl not hetero, bisexual, pansexual, I am just me and prefer the pronouns he/him or they/them. But it is completely cool if you go by any of the sexual orientations/genders I just listed!! 🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍⚧️🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍⚧️🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍⚧️🏳️‍⚧️🏳️‍🌈🌈🌈🏳️‍🌈 bwyafypdh

I think I explained everything on the image, now I will tell you other things

My favorite drink is eggnog, my favorite foods are probably steamed vegetables, my favorite candy is suckers, my favorite dinosaur is the Spinosaurus, my favorite colors are red and sometimes green.

Likes: Candles, things that smell good, writing, reading, poetry, winter, the cold, caffeine, pirates, dinosaurs, language from the 1500's, music, the grinch, lipgloss, socks, cool mugs, sketching, mini dioramas

Dislikes: Being too warm, MY HANDS BEING STICKY, naps, breaking my elbow, cracking my knuckles and feeling pain, mean teachers

I have a basic DNI list

My favorite book is also The Timekeeper by Rob Kidd!

#mitski #korn #the cure #the smiths #the misfits #soad #xasthur #mcr #deftones #msi #mindless self indulgence #alien sex fiend #introduction #hunter x hunter #i hope i did this right #omg #gourmet lolipops are so good

[coyotescribbles]

A short little ficlet I scribbled out, featuring Corona and guest-starring @magicalmousey's Jayce~

(It's a bit rough and I struggled with not letting it get away with me as these little plotbunnies have a tendency to do, so apologies in advance :'))

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

"How did you even manage this?"

"I'm not built like a brawler, doc, when a guy three times my size hits me like a wrecking ball, I tend to fare a little poorly."

Corona flinched and bared her denta in a hiss that tapered off into a sigh of relief as her shoulder assembly was popped back into place and the damaged armor plating pried up from where it was compressing her sensor net and motor cables.

"Better?"

"Much." Rolling her shoulder experimentally, she gave an approving nod - but before Knock Out could ask any further questions or make any observations, they were interrupted by the sudden opening of the door.

"Oh, for the love of - whatever it is, it can wait, I'm busy!" She felt his hand on her good shoulder as he shifted to look past her, and she turned her head to see who had entered as well - only to see nothing but an empty doorway.

Until she registered movement at the periphery of her vision, and looked down.

"Oh," Knock Out said flatly, even as Corona tried - and mostly failed - to stifle a startled laugh; "it's just you."

"Oh, that's cute. Since when does Megatron allow pets on the Nemesis?" She grinned, immediately tamping down her alarm. "Does anyone on board even know how to take care of one?"

The doctor sputtered something, but Corona was already stepping away from the work area to crouch down in front of the spooked little creature. "Hey, human, are these clowns making sure you've got what you need? Are they even feeding you enough?"

The human seemed to flounder for a moment, and she didn't blame her. Being so directly confronted by a strange Decepticon would be a little rattling for someone her size. But then she gathered herself up and did something that caught Corona pleasantly off-guard.

"Actually, yeah," she replied, meeting her optics, "these clowns are doing just fine, thank you."

Somewhere towards the back of the medbay, half-hidden behind a piece of equipment he'd been fine-tuning, Breakdown snorted out a laugh. The sound was followed by a clatter and a string of muffled curses when he dropped whatever tool he was using, and the human peered past her as if to see what was going on.

Corona just grinned, fangs flashing in the dim light as she looked back over her shoulder at an annoyed-looking Knock Out. "Oh, she's spicy! I think I like her."

"Yes, yes, we're all quite fond of our little scraplet," he scoffed, impatiently tapping his talons against his thigh; "now, if you wouldn't mind getting back over here so I could finish repairing your shoulder? Breakdown, could you be a dear and take care of Jayce while I'm busy with Eclipse here?"

"On it, doc."

With one last crooked smile for Jayce, Corona straightened back up and returned to Knock Out's staging area, where he sat her firmly on the berth and resumed the work of repairing her damaged joint.

"Really, doc, it's fine now," she said nonchalantly, watching from the corner of one optic as Breakdown appeared from the back and knelt down, offering his hand for Jayce to climb into. She was almost surprised by the gentleness with which he handled the human.

Almost.

"'Fine' is not getting you out of this medbay," Knock Out groused, derailing her train of thought, "'functional' is, and you're not quite there yet, so sit still."

By the time she glanced back towards the door, both Breakdown and the human were gone, although she could hear them talking quietly somewhere just out of her visual range. She didn't tune her audials to the discussion, but she didn't entirely tune it out, either - just in case things went south, and she had to snatch and dash.

"...You're concerned. Why, Eclipse, I didn't think you had it in you."

Her finials barely flicked. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Oh, please, you don't serve as a doctor throughout an entire war without picking up on a few tells." Knock Out huffed softly, still wrist-deep in her shoulder assembly. "Really, you needn't worry. I know it's not exactly conventional, but there's almost an entire warship conspiring to protect her from the more… unpredictable elements aboard. She's nearly as safe here as the Autobots' little pets are with them."

"For how long, though?"

"Honestly? Who knows." Something in her shoulder popped and she almost flinched. "But, even if worst comes to worst, she's got some powerful 'cons in her corner, and I'm not just talking about Big Blue back there."

She felt him close up her shoulder, then patiently sat through the battery of mobility and functionality checks that followed - straighten your arm, demonstrate forward flexion, abduction, rotation, internal and external rotation, extension, show me that your fingers still function properly - before she was finally granted clearance to leave.

"And if I see you back here in anything less than seven solar cycles, I will make sure things are far less pleasant," the doctor warned, a theatrical edge to his voice.

"Yeah, yeah, stick to picking on Autobots my own size, got it," Corona replied with equally exaggerated flippancy as she rolled her shoulder one last time and stepped away.

She paused before exiting, though, turning back to look for Jayce; the human was easy enough to spot, still seated on a workbench with Breakdown leaning nearby.

"Hey, scraplet," she called; both human and Decepticon looked in her direction. "If you need anything from planetside that the flying circus here isn't providing, just come find me. The Pole Star's on the flight deck, she's hard to miss."

Then, with a grin and a wave, she was gone, a ripple of hi-gloss obsidian and silver vanishing down the dimly-lit corridor.

***

A few hours later, by local reckoning, Corona was finishing the last of the minor repairs that her little ship needed after that absolute clusterfuck of a fight. Pressing her lips into a thin line, she took a step back to survey the work… and to privately grouse about the growing list of dings that the Pole Star had accumulated ever since arriving on this planet.

(Sure, it hadn't been her ship for very long, but she would have been lying if she'd said she hadn't gotten attached.)

She just needs a little polish, maybe a fresh coat of paint…

The sensation of someone knocking on her greave yanked her away from that thought, and she immediately sidestepped out of habit as she looked down - and directly into the piercing green eyes of the resident human.

"Well." With a soft snort and an equally soft smile, Corona knelt down to be closer to her eye level. "I honestly wasn't expecting you to actually come looking for me, but since you had the guts to prove me wrong… what can I do for you, scraplet?"

Jayce looked aside for a moment and fidgeted a bit with the blanket - cloak? - she was wrapped in, as if suddenly unsure of herself. Then, as before, she found her confidence again and looked back to her with firm resolve.

"You… you said you could get me a few things that I needed while you were on Earth, right?"

"Mmhm. Or just wanted, I'm not stingy."

"…No strings attached?"

"Not one, spy's honor," Corona chuckled. "I need some opportunities to fine-tune my holoform, anyway, so consider this compensation for helping me out."

That coaxed the ghost of a smile from the human, and seemed to solidify her confidence. "Well, there have been a few things I've been missing, ever since… coming here…"

The way the human's voice faltered made something twist uncomfortably in her chest, but she hid it behind a smile.

"What do you say we work out a list, then, and I'll see what I can do."

#transformers fanfiction #transformers prime #maccadam #Knock Out #Breakdown #Corona #Jayce Redthorne

[aibhilin-atibeka]

So I got tagged TWICE somehow XD (jk, love y’all, big thanks to @that-cloud and @a-knight-owls-curse, I adore these tagging games!!!)

RULES: post the names of all the files in your WIP folder, regardless of how non-descriptive or ridiculous. Let people send you an ask with the title that most intrigues them, and then post a little snippet or tell them something about it! and then tag as many people as you have WIPS.

So, yes, the ones I’m working on, eh? Ought to only be a handful...

...

10 minutes later, it’s decidedly NOT a handful. It’s more like five handfuls, y’all. when did I ever accumulate this many??? why did I decide to work on them simultaneously??????????? new rule: ones that I’ve touched in the past five days or so. also, apparently I don’t have only ONE wip folder, what do you take me for, a heathen? no, I’ve got to have three different ones, one of those an analogue one that I had to hunt for behind the newspaper stash on my desk.

Around 6 original short stories that a) don’t all have titles yet but are plotted and planned out to a T and will be written within the next few days, if not weeks.

Through Troubled Waters (yup, why start into an easy, nice, oneshot after a writer’s block when I can start with the frigging longest longfic I’ve ever longed to write for???) One Piece, Buggy the Clown time travels to his own past and eventually his mini!me and Shanks stumble upon him and don’t leave him alone (neither does he them tho, so it evens out). (mind the tags, please!)

Dead Man Walking (it counts if I edit stuff, right? ... yup, it means I touched it within the last five days or so.) One Piece, a dimension travel (or is it?) piece about Portgas D. Ace (and company). (please mind the tags on this one!)

The Second Part to This Series That Still Exists, Why, Yes, It Does. One Piece, a young Buggy meets Garp a year after his ex-captain’s execution and, well, baby!Portgas D. Ace, as it so happens. Buggy doesn’t trust Garp to treat babies right and gets himself force-adopted/kidnappedoes with him to wherever he’s going. Dadan, meet pirate apprentice!Buggy. Buggy, be flabbergasted at Garp’s choice in babysitter. Ace, be happy.

An unpublished Christmas fanfic, namely a Danny Phantom/DC Batfamily crossover fanfic that doesn’t frigging leave me alone until I finish it.

An as-of-yet unnamed alternative crossover fanfic about Danny Phantom and the Batfamily that insists it wants to be a longfic and whose dreams and aspirations I regularly have to dash to dust cause I do not want any more longfics on ao3 until I’ve finished at least ONE, darn it all.

at least three more oneshots in the One Piece fandom I’ve yet to finish/write more on so they can count as done/edit

So. I had writer’s block for a while there (helloooooo job search, I hate you so. much.) cause I had to write other genres of text a LOT lately and am as unhappy about it as to want to actually publish a freaking book sometime soon, just so I’ll have something else to write for.

as for the tags, I have no clue WHO to tag? Feel free to ignore them if you don't want to.

@gallus-rising and anybody else who’d like to? Feel free to jump in and let me know about your wips, folks! I love hearing about any you’d like to share!!! :D

#my writing #my fanfic writing #one piece #BTTAU #DMW #wip #wips #Danny Phantom #dp/dc batfam crossover #dp/dc crossover #fanfic

[a-dorin]

crush

pairing: college au! maul x female!reader

word count: 2.411k

warnings: smutttttt, teasing, cursing, mentions of death threats, endless teasing, some filthy talk, nsfw, pet names

a/n: hi so this is my first time writing over 1k in months. please be gentle with me, as i'm really proud of this & i can never get enough of college aus. feedback is very much appreciated. request was anon, but i hope you enjoy <3

prompt: "Hi yes if this managed to make it in time for request, can I please request a Maul x Fem reader smut,,, like anything I’m a desperate hoe ahdhdbsbsbzb"

“so,” there’s the crisp crinkle of a page turning, “why’d you choose university of coruscant?”

“the atmosphere.”

“come on,” he scoffs, “are you a tour guide now? what major are you anyways? isn’t it something really nerdy? something along the lines of biochemistry? a minor in genetics or some bullshit like that?”

“i think you’re thinking of some other girl you’ve fucked because that is nowhere along the lines of what i’m studying. you weren’t even in the right college. some partner you are.”

sitting right across from you, was the star recruit of the university of coruscant. a lacrosse player who transferred from mustafar central. he was the reason why the team was expected to qualify for nationals. why they were supposed to even make it to the championship.

over the summer, it was almost as if the entire campus was buzzing about it. after all, it wasn’t often that the university was able to snag such good athletes. well, it was a division one school so of course it was a given that everyone was pretty good in their respective sport.

however, the zabrak sitting right across from you was utterly exceptional.

in almost every way.

all everyone raved about was his looks. which, you had to admit, the zabrak was gorgeous. with rich crimson skin, complemented by inky tattoos, sharp cheekbones, a dashing smile, and eyes that were pools of pure honey, it was difficult to deny the fact that he was attractive.

however, it was not hard to accept the other truth, either. he was quite acquainted with a majority of the women on campus, matching with almost every single one on tinder. that was if you were a part of a sorority or part of a sports team, of course.

what made matters worse was his intelligence. so, when you were paired with him for a project in your astronomy class, you learned fairly quickly that the zabrak was quite the smartass. and not a nice one, either. he seemed to enjoy harassing and berating you with his jokes and punchlines during every encounter.

he was everything you despised in a man. cocky, stubborn, and careless.

so why were you so attracted to him? you had absolutely no idea.

there’s a beat of silence, and the only noise the zabrak emits is a quiet exhale. the sound of his breath as it whistled through his teeth. yet, it’s followed by a quiet huff.

“you wish you could fuck me. you’ve mentioned it before, to that nautolan friend of yours, hmm? kit, right? he’s on the lacrosse team. your name may have come up a few times.”

heat flourishes through your cheeks as you glance upwards, any last remnants of focus completely crumbling away. your breath hitches in your throat at the smug smirk plastered on his lips, incisors poking against his lower lip.

golden eyes scour you, almost analyzing the sheer and utter shock plaguing your features. satisfaction glints within the depths, and you blink, scrambling to formulate some sort of response.

leaning forward, the zabrak tilts his head, so close that the tip of his nose grazed yours. this time, the words are a low rumble, harsh and gravelly.

almost like a growl.

“you told your little friend kit that you wished that i would just take you right here, in the library, and fuck you senseless. i find that interesting though, because you’ve been feeding me this little premonition that you absolutely loathe every aspect of my existence. now, do you actually want that little wish of yours to come true, or are you going to keep putting up the act and we act like this never happened?”

shrinking in your seat, you could almost feel the eyes searing into the both of you. there’s arched brows and low murmurs, a few giggles ringing through the space. swallowing thickly, you pull the collar of your hoodie over the lower half of your face, in a vain attempt to conceal your obvious embarrassment.

of course your fellow peers were staring. in the corner of your eye, you witness a group of girls roll their eyes. from the decals on their laptops, along with the other memorabilia, you pick out they’re chi omega girls, a popular sorority on campus.

you squeeze your eyes shut as you hear them whispering amongst each other. there’s a few points, and you were dead sure the dusty rose twi’lek in the black nike hoodie wanted to end your life right there.

maker, were you so flustered.

and he had you right where he wanted you.

“m-maul,” you stutter, fidgeting in your seat, “pe-people are s-staring.”

“do i look like i give a fuck?”

“i’m pretty sure the chi omega girls over there are going to send me death threats once they find my instagram,” you grumble, burying your head in your hands, “it’s your fault they’re all looking, you know.”

“hey!” the taunting tone in his voice sent your eyes wide open, strands of curses flowing from your tongue as he called over to the group, “i know we may have matched on tinder, but i’m not yours. i’m not territory to lay a claim on. i’m my own zabrak, you know. i can talk to other girls.”

letting out an exasperated sigh, you bury your head into your arms, laying your head on the table.

getting any work done with him was a lost cause.

“you okay? you gonna make it?”

for a moment, you melt under the tenderness in his tone, the way the words just sounded so gentle. he lays a hand on your shoulder, and you look up, the heat in your cheeks lingering as your eyes lock with his.

“we could get out of here, you know,” maul murmurs, “i live in an apartment with a few other guys on the lacrosse team. they’re all out, though. we could get some peace and quiet. and i could get you away from those chi clowns. i think they already found your twitter. i don’t like the way they’re looking at you either.”

i don’t like the way they’re looking at you either.

“um, sure. i don’t have anything else tonight. at least, i don’t think. i cleared my schedule so we could get this project done.”

“don’t worry about packing up your stuff. act like you’re on the phone or something and i’ll grab your things. i made this mess so i’ll clean it up,” it takes a moment to register the suggestion, but you knew it wasn’t a suggestion.

he wasn’t going to budge.

clearing your throat, you press your phone to your ear, “hello? oh hey! no, you didn’t catch me at a bad time. i just need to leave the room really quick.”

carefully, you weave your way through the maze of chairs and tables, pushing open the door. moments later, you’re outside, inhaling the brisk january air, grateful for the coolness as it seeps into your skin.

“you okay?”

you nod, probably a little too quickly, “yes.”

maul’s brow furrows, yet he doesn’t press any further, adjusting your book bag, “don’t worry about carrying this. i got it. i feel bad.”

“don’t feel bad i mean, you were just teasing--”

“i do,” he cuts in, “i feel bad because i know how you much you dislike unwanted attention. you always get so flustered when the professor calls on you with no warning. you either stutter just a little bit or you pull the sleeves of your hoodie over your hands. i was a little bit of an asshole back there, and i apologize for that. i took care of everything with those chi omega girls too.”

in the darkness, you nearly trip over the sidewalk, “you.. you notice that?”

“i sit right by you and have been for the past two weeks,” he snorts, “i pick up on a thing or two. take a left here.”

all around you, the lights of campus glow softly, illuminating the surroundings with a warm golden glow. the night sky is clear, a few stars glittering over the light pollution of the city. you follow the zabrak, unsure of what to say.

“were.. were you serious about what you said earlier? did kit really say something?”

your knees buckle at the sound of his laughter. how it was so sweet and melodic as it rang out into the night.

“he did say something,” the zabrak raises a hand, pointing to a complex just a few hundred feet ahead of you, “i’m right here. you still up for the offer? i mean, we still have a week and a half but i don’t want to waste your time. you have a lot going on with your classes already. how’s chemistry going?”

“how do you know about chemistry?” you arch a brow, a shudder coursing through you as the breeze rolls through the campus.

“you bitch about it all the time on your instagram story?” the zabrak holds his id next to the door, pulling it open, “regardless of what you may think, i do pay attention to you sweetheart.”

“and what’s that supposed to mean?” your tone shifts, “i’m not sure what you’re referring to, maul.”

“well,” a hand finds its way to the small of your back, just above the curve of your ass, pushing you gently. realizing that you have to go up the stairs, you begin to trudge upwards, his hand still lingering.

“you have this belief that you’re unattractive because you don’t possess conventional beauty set by the standards of social media and society. i know this because you’ve talked about it on your twitter and your instagram. also, your comment about ‘some other girl i fucked’ really took me aback because i don’t just sleep with anyone. you know that, right? i have standards. and i have goals too, outside from ‘how many bodies i have.’ you also said that to kit, which made me upset. is that what you really think of me?”

in that instant, it was almost as if your heart dropped. you stop at the top of the flight, the clammy sensation coating your hands only growing. wiping your hands on your leggings, you dodge his gaze, clamping your mouth shut.

gods, were you in deep shit now.

fingers grasp your chin, forcing your head to the right. maul takes a step forward, pushing your back against the wall. the concrete sends goosebumps lining your arms, hairs standing on end.

“i asked you a question,” your heart thuds as he leans forward, “is that what you really think of me sweetheart?”

“i-i--” you stammer, heat flourishing to your neck, “t-that’s not i think of you. i was just frustrated because i didn’t know how to process the feelings i had and i’m sorry.”

“feelings?” maul’s lips were practically brushing against yours. and gods, were they so tantalizingly soft, “what kind of feelings?”

“i may have a crush on you.”

“a crush? what is this, fifth grade?” the tease was edged with somewhat you couldn’t quite place your finger on. what was it? lust? want? hunger?

“a crush,” you affirm, “i have a crush on you, maul.”

“you wanna know what i told those chi omega girls?” he inquires, one hand on the wall, the other reaching for your face, cupping your cheek.

“what did you tell those girls?” fuck. were you in deeper shit now.

“i told them we were talking. that you were my girl,” your lashes flutter at his touch, “and you know wanna know what else i told them?”

“what else did you say?” puckering you lips, you take his thumb into your mouth, sucking lightly.

the sound that you hear is nothing like you’ve encountered before.

“i-i,” you feel your lips curve into a smirk as he grits his teeth, “i told them that i was going to fuck you after this. that i was going to completely destroy you.”

“you didn’t---”

his mouth connects with yours for an open-mouthed kiss. it’s electrifying yet blissful, something that would sweep you off your feet yet keep you grounded, keeping you wanting more and more. gods, was it such a craving. to stay in this stairwell, to cherish this moment.

it’s gratifying, enough to make you light-headed with giddiness.

it’s everything you’ve ever wanted and more.

yet, he pulls away, panting ever so slightly.

“fuck.”

“fuck?”

his jaw clenches, “you have no fucking idea how much i’ve been wanting to do that. ever since i met you. fuck, i need more. i need more of you. ‘taste so good.”

“we could always--”

“finish this in my apartment? yeah, i want to. but i don’t want to force anything on you and i don’t want to make you uncomfortable. i’ve just -- i’ve just been having dreams about you.”

“dreams?” you watch as the zabrak’s eyes squeeze shut, his body shifting away from yours. he’s heading towards the door now, nearly throwing it open.

“dreams about being inside of you. fuck. i need to know how you feel. if you’re as tight as i imagined. and fuck, i need to feel how wet you are too. how wet you get for me. have you ever tasted yourself before?”

you shake your head, “i haven’t.”

maul practically stalks down the hallway, finding his door. sliding the key into the lock, he steps inside, placing your bags on the floor, “would you rather study or would you rather let me express how i feel?”

thumbs loop through the pocket of your hoodie, pulling you close to him. fuck, you could feel him against your body. the stiffness of his cock underneath his sweats. how hot and bothered he was for you, practically aching for some sort of release.

“what do you mean ‘express how you feel’?” carefully, you dip a hand into the waistband, hand wrapping around the outline, squeezing gently.

“oh fuck,” maul throws his head back, moaning ever so slightly, “i-i may have a crush on you too. and i wanted to express how i felt. i-i’m not good with words.”

“why don’t you show me then?” your clit throbs as you feel along his shaft, fingers grazing over the ridges, thumb pressing against his tip.

“bend over the fucking counter then and i’ll fucking show you then, princess. you better not utter a single fucking word about this fucking project because it’s my turn to study you.”

☆☆☆☆☆

taggin' some maul moots: @maulieber @maulfrk @hounding-around @maximumninjavoid @xcertaindarkthingsx @zabrak-show @anakinswhore @arsonistvoyager @bonesaldente @catsnkooks@darthmaulslut

#maul #darth maul #maul x reader #darth maul x reader #maul smut #darth maul smut #maul x y/n #reader insert #college!au

[volleychumps]

HEY HEY HEY!! I just wanna say your writing is just amazingggg! If possible, can you do a Bokuto x reader where reader is dared to call her crush and calls bokuto and he's right next to her but hella confused? I feel like the clownery would be IMMENSE 😂😂

Hiii!! They yoinked my teethsies but I’m feeling better, thanks to everyone who asked I love youuuu guys so much!! 

Sober Realizations. -Bokuto Kotaro-

Word Count: 1548

Warning(s): cursing, suggestive content(nsfw),  alcohol (aged up) 

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

“Talk about a pussy dare.” 

Kuroo winks at you as he downs the rest of the vodka bottle in one go, high-fiving Bokuto afterwards as you glare at Tsukishima, who had given the raven-haired captain the dull dare to begin with. The blonde simply shrugs, leaning back to pop open a can of cranberry beer as Kaori continues to burst out laughing at the turn of events. 

“So I have to strip my shirt off but Mr. I’m-too-good-for-girly-drinks gets to chug his favorite alcohol? I call bullshit.” 

“At least your bra is cute!” Kaori exclaims, cuddling you close as you roll your eyes, feeling Bokuto shift next to you as your breath catches in your throat. The shared dorm of the boys had you all sitting in a rather closely knit-circle, you and Kaori coming over for old times’ sake seeing you were all attending the same college as you ended up sidled comfortably up to your high school crush. Bokuto takes another swig of Smirnoff before offering the rest to you. 

Bokuto grins as you fight your blush when he reaches a hand out to tousle your hair as you shyly sip, his jacket loosely covering your frame yet still remaining unzipped to reveal your black bra underneath. Bokuto hadn’t even reacted when the bastard Nekoma captain dared you to strip, simply laughing and making you feel worse as a result-

especially considering the brother-like gesture of draping his team jacket across your shoulders. 

Tsukishima had to call Daichi- 

“D-Dad come pick me up, they’re drinking alcohol-” 

“Tsukishima, to put it nicely, what the fuck-”

Akaashi had to reenact High School Musical’s iconic Gotta Go My Own Way with Bokuto playing as Troy-

“Akaashi how do you mess this up?! It’s a simple one-two rhythm-!” 

“I will end you.”

And your personal favorite- 

Bokuto had to also strip his shirt off, due to Tsukishima’s bland-ass pick of the dares and his unwillingness to be creative. So that’s how you ended up, head leaning loosely on the broad shoulder of Bokuto, who (thank the gods) had his hair down from his previous shower, smelling of bath soap and a tinge of his cologne with his shirt discarded to the left of him. 

You bite back a sigh as your turn comes around again, Kaori grinning a tad wickedly at you as you arch a brow, wondering just where your friend would take this. 

“Truth or dare, Y/N~?” 

Your eyes narrow at her tone. “Truth.” 

“Who would you want to fuck the most in this room right now?” 

“Me, obviously-” 

“Bite my ass, Kuroo.” You snip at the smirking player, turning back to your suspicious friend. “Dare.” 

“Oho? I dare you to call your crush.” 

“What are we, seventh graders?” You challenge almost immediately, feeling your heart rate pick up as your fingers trace the rim of your drink, telepathically cursing Kaori with every colorful word you could come up with. 

“Well, I’d most definitely want to fuck Kei-” 

“wHAT?! Over me?!” 

“Sit your clown ass down, Kuroo, I’d want to fuck Kei over for picking shitty ass dares.” 

“Don’t make me come over there, woman.” 

“Not the truth, Y/N~, you know what that means~” Kaori sings as you think it over for a moment. Although your immediate reaction had been to deny deny, and deny, you couldn’t help but wonder if doing this childish action would bring you the closure you needed. Your petty crush on Bokuto had started in high school, but he had never acted as anything more than your older brother and best friend. However, you had never directly stated to him after all these years what you really felt for him, the boy who had been there through countless breakups and heartbreaks. 

Before you can talk yourself out of it, you throw your drink back as your other hand fiddles with your phone, tapping quickly before you can stop yourself. 

“Five bucks she calls Lev.” 

“Lev’s like, my child, how dare you say that.” 

After your pointed glare towards an amused Kuroo, the silence that settles around the room when you hit call makes you want to turn off your phone and end it-

but it was far far too late for that.

You keep your eyes downcast as Bokuto’s phone lights up with your name, heart emojis and all. 

Akaashi and Tsukishima exchange quiet, knowing glances as Kaori and Kuroo’s eyes widen at the fact that you had actually done it-

“Huh?” The golden-eyed boy seemed to be immersed in confusion for a good second as he looks down at the caller. You hold your breath- 

“Heyooo Y/N!” Bokuto picks up the phone from next to you as you sweat drop. 

“You were supposed to call your crush, but you called me! Do you need a do-over?” 

Akaashi and Tsukishima both hang their heads gloomily in disbelief as Kuroo cackles, Kaori putting both hands to the sides of her temple to massage the sides. You swallow the lump of dissapointment in your throat as Bokuto continues to hold his phone up to his ear, grinning that same cheeky grin you were still in love with. 

“What? Why is everyone being weirder than usual?” Golden eyes blink in innocent confusion as you forget just how much of a dumbass the talented ace was at times. 

“...Yeah. Maybe I do need a do-over.” Your smile is wobbly as you finish off your drink, standing all of a sudden to excuse yourself to go to the bathroom. In the minute of silence after your leave, Bokuto seemed to be concentrating really hard with furrowed brows, wondering why the sudden change of atmosphere had occurred as Akaashi begins to reach a hand out-

“Bokuto-san-” 

“Sh. He’s almost there.” Kuroo stops him with a knowing grin. 

“Kuroo, his brain might explode from thinking too hard-” 

“Let it.” 

“That’s awful, Kei!” Kaori swats the blonde. 

Amidst the conversation, Bokuto stands all of a sudden, eyes widened with a weak finger ponting at himself as he looks each of his friends in the eye. 

“Wait, don’t tell me-” 

“I was this close to playing jeapordy music, too.”

“Tsukki, go to your room.” 

Ignoring the flicked off finger in the direction of Kuroo from the blonde, Akaashi groans to himself when Bokuto makes a mad dash to his bedroom, the room that had the bathroom you excused yourself to as the setter rolls his eyes. 

“Four years to get together and they have to do it in my dorm bathroom?” 

“Just drink your wine, old man, we’ll put him on clean-up duty.” 

Tap. 

“Can I come in?” 

“O-One second!” Your voice attempts to chirp, only to crack. Upon hearing that, Bokuto lets himself in anyway to see you supporting yourself up with both arms on Akaashi’s sink, head hung over the drain as you straighten all of a sudden, startled at his entry as palms swipe at the moisture falling down your flushed cheeks. The loose sleeves of his jacket and the exposure of your undergarment-

had Bokuto’s mouth drier than he remembered it, the sudden urge to touch you overwhelming him. 

“Sorry, I might’ve had too much to drink, I don’t know what’s with me...” You trail off in a slight slur, prompting Bokuto to shut the door tightly as he lessens the distance between the two of you in the already small bathroom. You bite your lip at his shirtless form and you’re practically matching one as your thoughts remain sober, wondering if you could play it off with you being too drunk. 

“Y/N-chan...Did you mean to call me?” Bokuto’s voice is scarily soft as his grey-black locks fell over his goregous golden eyes, and you find yourself at a loss for words when a hand reaches out to grab the sink, leaning over you and sealing off your escape. You gulp at the proximity, looking away bashfully. 

“No. I didn’t.” 

“Don’t lie, Y/N-chan, we promised we wouldn’t do that!”

You flinch at the feel of Bokuto’s lips ghosting over your neck, feeling hot all of a sudden as Bokuto pulls back slightly, gold eyes deadly serious, something you only had seen in his matches. 

“How long?” 

Your lips pout as you look away again, refusing to answer, prompting the gray haired boy to use his thumb and forefinger to turn your chin back in his direction, gold eyes desperate for an answer. 

“S-Since our second year.” 

His warm hands dip through his jacket to stroke your waist, causing you to whimper a little as Bokuto releases a breathy sigh, using the sides of his jacket to pull you closer to him so he can sit you on Akaashi’s sink. He smiles as you try to process what’s happening as he moves to stand between your thighs. 

“Then I have...what, four years to make up?” Your alcoholic breaths mingle as your fingers find themselves woven throughout his hair, your other hand moving to rest on the back of his neck as you shyly meet Bokuto’s loving gaze.

“O-Only if you want to...” 

“Oh trust me.” You flinch when he pulls the jacket off your shoulders, the material falling to the floor as his hand moves to turn the lock. 

“I want to.”

#haikyuu!! #haikyuu anime #haikyuu bokuto #bokuto x reader #bokuto kotarou #haikyuu #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu scenarios

[narrators-journal]

Oh raven won’t you sing me a happy song

So, if you haven’t noticed, this is an older fic. I’ve improved since this point, and I’m also taking time to edit my work, so there is a descrepency. I hope those who read this can find enjoyment in it anyway though! And I hope my editting saves it from being total garbage

Warning: here

previous part: here

cw: dubcon, weaker writing, Gogol being a sadist, I think that’s all!

After your first run in with the man, you learned his name was Gogol, Nikolai Gogol, and even though he was very fucked up personally, keeping you in a cage was something of a dead give away for that, he did at least have a nice side. Aside from being pervy and really wanting to touch you when he came to deliver food or take trays, he was respectful enough to not hurt you. He'd grab your hand, kiss you on the wrist or lips, really anything he could to give you small affections, but rarely anything severe. It was a mixture of charming and creepy.  You couldn't really figure out exactly what his intentions were.

For a while, you did try to avoid him, scrambling from side to side in the cage to try and avoid his touches, but after a few days you gave in. You'd let him pet your (h/l), (h/c) hair, or kiss the backs of your hand, being an obedient little bird in hopes of earning freedoms.

When he realized you were growing more obedient, his orders grew bit by bit. Allowing him to simply touch you turned into you now initiating contact, you assumed that was because of some level of touch starvation, small kisses turned into letting him leave hickeys on your neck. It was on the creepier side of things, but you were determined to get at least a little bit of freedom so you could try to escape, so, you indulged him, grabbing his hand, or playing with his hair for a moment when he came down to your basement, and slowly, you began to enjoy him coming around.

Being locked in a massive suspended bird cage in a windowless basement wasn't the best setting for a social life, so to avoid going insane from loneliness, you didn't shame yourself for the flutter of joy you'd get when the tall man would come visit. Luckily for you, he came around for more than simply feeding and watering you, he'd sometimes come down and just sit with you, talking about nothing in particular, showing you magic tricks, small things like that. You weren't quite attracted to him outside of looks, but you didn't exactly push yourself to find some similarities to relate to or anything, you just needed physical contact for your sanity, you didn't want to so easily be that girl who falls for a violent kidnapper. However, you also fought against the shame you felt for even finding him attractive at all. After all, if you were going to be stuck in a cage in a basement for however long you were gonna be there you couldn't afford to guilt yourself over such fickle things as physical attraction.

Allowing yourself that freedom from guilt helped you to cope without going absolutely bat shit. It wasn't the best situation, you still had plenty of days where you tore at the fabric that formed your cage's cushion, kicked at the bars and threw one hell of a tantrum, but at least you were doing the best you could be expected to. Right? It was on one of your bad days, one of the days where you yowled curses at Gogol and try to tear up your cage like a rabid dog that you heard it. Once you were tuckered out, reduced to a puddle of sobbing screams of despair clutching your blanket and biting at the cushion of your flooring you heard him, or more, his laughter. When you looked up, into the darkness of the basement where your dim lantern couldn't reach, you could just make out Gogol's silhouette, only sure it was him due to the dim glow of his mismatched eyes. At least, it looked like they glowed, it could've been the light reflecting just right to give that effect.           "Awww, little Golubka, why so upset?" he asked, a sickeningly cheerful lilt in his thickly accented voice "I thought we were past these fits. Although, I do admittedly find them to be very entertaining~" he sang, getting up from the bed across from you and meandering over to the cage, his grin evilly charming.

When he was right in front of you, he reached out and tried to touch you, not being able to quite make contact, and while you didn't want him to touch you, you also didn't want to piss him off when he seemed to have some sort of teleportation ability, so you moved closer and let him grab your hand.          "How about this, my little dove, I'll make you a deal. All you have to do is give me a blowjob." he said, giving your hand a firm squeeze when you tried to yank away. Your cheeks were crimson, your stomach churning with anxiety and embarrassment...and lust, but Gogol didn't let you go, "Come now, Golubka, a blowjob is not too hard to ask in exchange for a nice little walk outside, right?" he soothed, and after a moment you nodded. He gave you a charming smile and yanked you forward, making you squeak and close your eyes. When you opened them again you were outside of your bird cage, being held by your captor. He happily brought you over to the king-sized bed and plopped down on it, keeping you in his lap for a moment before beginning to nudge you back until you took the hint and got between his legs like he wanted. You didn't want to ponder how he got a boner seemingly so fast, so you simply focused on pulling his striped pants down to free his erection. You weren't super shocked to see that he was a healthy size for his height, not unreasonable, but not quite average either, you were surprised though at how quickly your lust grew. Though you were also thankful for that, it made the task easier on your mental health ever so slightly. The way he hummed when your fingers brushed his length made you think he wouldn't take too much to get off, which made you feel a bit better about the situation. It wouldn't last too long. So, you gave him a lick from base to tip than pumped him with your hand until the clown tangled his gloved hand in your (h/l), (h/c) hair and pulled you forward with a groan. So, you smartly decided to skip the foreplay, just slipping him past your lips and going as far down as you could before needing to pull back. You started off slow, needing to work up you courage before bobbing your head faster or anything, though you did try to be considerate and used your hand to stroke what you couldn't reach. Your actions earned a few moans from the white haired Russian, the noises sending little bolts of pleasure to your own nether regions while his hand gripping your hair tighter and pushing you down more when he got impatient with your pace. At least, not long after that he did orgasm, forcing you to choke on his member as he did, humming with satisfaction and grinning when a few tears slipped out of your (e/c) eyes. Finally, he let your hair go and let you sit up properly to cough and breath. While you caught your breath and gagged on the salty taste of his cum, Gogol got up and pulled his pants back up before heading upstairs and heading into what you assumed was the rest of the house. He left the door open, and was gone for a long moment, so you felt a spark of hope flutter to life in your chest. You were shaky, but you got up from the cold concrete floor and scrambled and stumbled for the door. Your heart beat like a jackhammer and your nerves felt like they were burning with energy as you tripped over yourself on the stairs and got to the door,  stumbling into some sort of pantry  that led to the kitchen. With the new scent of anything but stale basement air, you were flooded with adrenaline that made your muscles shudder, urging you to bolt like a scared rabbit, but you forced yourself to creep forward and peek out. The kitchen was empty, no Gogol in sight, and, your luck was good, a backdoor was in reach. So, you dashed for it, too excited and panicked to care about the noise or anything else, trying to unlock it with unsteady hands and than tearing it open.

However, before you could run out into the cold, crisp night air that had just hit you in the face like a schoolyard bully, without a sound of a single footstep to warn you, you felt a strong arm wrap around your midsection and hoist you up until your feet no longer touched the tile floor. You kicked and shrieked of course, but from what you could see, the house was at least in the countryside, so your pleas for help were unheard by anyone but the distant cows or deer.            "What a naughty, naughty Golubka! I was already going to take you outside, you should've known better than to try and go out alone!" Gogol chided, sounding sickeningly amused by your attempt. You hated that, hated that in this moment of near freedom after such an embarrassing low point, you were snatched back into the darkness, and he had the balls to be happy. As if the small crumb of escape  wasn't insult enough, you wouldn't even get the pleasure of pissing Gogol off. Instead, as you thrashed and yowled, fighting for all your worth to get free before he could shut the door and lock you away again, the clown was giggling. He giggled and relished the struggle you put up as he carried you back through the pantry, tore your hands from the door frame when you tried to latch onto that, getting a few more gulps of non-basement air before being brought back into your cement prison and teleported back into your cage. Of course you threw one hell of a fit, throwing pillows and blankets at the bars, shrieking insults at the twisted grin of your captor, but he simply waited for you to exhaust yourself before speaking again, his voice a calm, almost playful scolding,            "Now look what you've gotten yourself. Instead of a nice walk with me, you must now stay in the cage. Maybe next time either think twice before bolting, or be quicker." he said, and you kicked the cages side again, making him full out laugh before vanishing again. The last thing you saw before returning to the dimly lit darkness, was that slice of light being slowly, tauntingly thinned until the basement door clicked shut once more.

#yandere gogol #bsd #bungo stray dogs #nikolai gogol x reader #fanfiction #quotev #not sfw #sing sweet nightingale

[mieohmy]

𝖲𝖼𝖺𝗋𝖾𝖽𝗒 𝖢𝖺𝗍 𝖶𝗁𝗈? | 𝖫𝖾𝖾 𝖧𝖺𝖾𝖼𝗁𝖺𝗇

PAIRING: lee haechan x reader

GENRE: humor, fluff, haunted house au, friends-to-maybe-more?

WC: 1.2k

NOTES: cursing,  horror/scary things 🤡 boo maybe a Halloween drabble in January 🤠?

↳ “Don’t let go. If you do, I think I’ll die.”

✧

You weren’t going. No way. So what if you have to be stuck at home ignoring annoying doorbells from candy deprived kids who just rampaged from door to door? It was way better than going to the highest-rated horror house in the city... right? 

“Listen, I’m staying here. I’m not going to scream my brains out and get killed by a clown alright? End of discussion.”

“Come onnn, it’ll be so much fun. The fear is the best part,” Renjun tries to convince you for the nth time. “Who wants to be alone on Halloween?” 

You reply with no hesitation. ‘’Me.”

“Y/n,” he groans in frustration, “you’re not gonna die. You can just stick by Haechan’s side, no biggie.”

Renjun’s response causes you to furrow your eyebrows. “Why Haechan?” 

“Well, he won’t stop bragging about how fearless he is, so he can protect you... I guess?”

You snort, “Haechan protecting me? Why would he want to do that?” 

His eye suddenly twitches, specifically the left one, you note. “Uh- no reason. Hey guys, you ready?” he calls out to the other guys.

“Yeah, did y/n finally change their mind?” Chenle asks. 

“Of course. They’re gonna change, and then we’re leaving.” Renjun glares at you with such ferocity that you simply turn and walk to your room to get ready.

✧

You regretted going. Waiting in line was literally torture. The never-ending screams were torture. Everything was torture. 

“Guys, I don’t think I can do this anymore. Didn’t you just hear those kids screaming? It literally sounded like they were actually getting murdered.” 

“Oh don’t be a baby, it’s gonna be great getting chased by clowns,” Renjun states. 

Haechan puffs up his chest. “Or the clowns are gonna be chased by me.” There’s a moment of silence before you speak up again. 

“Seriously, how come Jisung wasn’t forced to come and I was?” 

“Cause,” Jaemin replies, “He’s a baby. Mine, specifically.” 

You roll your eyes, bottom lip jutted out in frustration. “What about me? Am I not a baby?” 

“Nah- oh heck no,” Chenle says, head shaking from side to side.

Haechan mutters under his breath, “you can be mine..” 

“Ughhhh I’m gonna die, and it’s gonna be all your guys’ fault.” You might’ve tried to escape the line and run away as fast as your legs can take you but there’s always that one person who stops you.

“No, you won’t.” Renjun shoves you toward Haechan, making you stumble into his arms. “Since you think you’re all so strong and mighty, you can take care of them.” You’re too busy grumbling to notice Haechan’s flustered expression. 

The line moves up and the horrible feeling in your stomach grows every step closer. 

When the group in front of you enters the death house, you tightly clench whoever’s arm is right next to you. “Oh my god, we’re almost in.”

Haechan lets out a strained laugh, weakly attempting to remove your iron grip from his arm. 

 And then the door opens. You feel the cool air flow out and shiver. Chenle lets out an excited woohoo! and dashes in. 

You’re frozen, staring at the darkness emitting from the door until a voice cuts in. 

“Come on, y/n. We can do it.” You look up at Haechan, a hand offered in front of you. 

And so you take it, entering the haunted house with the rest of the boys. 

It isn’t too bad -is what you thought for the first five steps into the house. 

It helped that everyone was giggling at all the lame props that didn’t seem so horrifying after all.

Horribly fake decorations? Okay. Bloodied corpse? Ehhh... 

Is that a murder chainsaw guy? Goodbye. 

You swear it was some weird vase decoration or whatever, but when it stands up and that roaring engine sound comes to life, everyone erupts in screams and scatters throughout the place.

You're not sure where you are, where everyone else is. The house feels so much scarier alone. In total, you’ve been jump scared by three zombies, one skeleton, and a coat hanger. 

You’re not even sure how you’ve been moving through this maze of a house. For real, how many doors and hallways have you walked through? 

After a creepy girl pops up right in your face, you wail, almost on the verge of tears. There’s no choice but to run away, maybe find someone else or an exit. Where is everyone? 

Turning a corner, you bump into something, immediately falling to the ground and shrieking. Wait a second. You may be hearing things, but it sounded like another scream? One was yours for sure, and you’re pretty confident that your voice didn’t suddenly become deeper...?

“Fuck- wait a sec... Oh thank goodness, y/n !!”

Whimpering, you peek an eye open to see a relieved Haechan. It was hard to recognize him, the house being so dark and all. 

“W-where’s everyone else?” 

He helps you up, not letting go of your hand afterward. “I don’t know... We all lost each other after that creepy chainsaw man.” 

You pause. “You know, for someone saying that they were so good at these horror things, you were sure scared to bump into me.” 

“W-whatever. I can barely see anything. Come on, let’s stick together. I don’t think I can handle this anymore.”

Slowly, the two of you continue through the house. You never loosen your grip on his hand. you don’t think you physically can.

After a weird clown guy literally comes out the wall(??), the two of you barely make it past, Haechan babbling random useless threats.

You bury your head into his shoulder, eyes squeezed shut. “Don’t let go. If you do, I think I’ll die.” 

If you keep saying things like that, I think I’ll be the one to die, Haechan bitterly thinks in his head. 

“Haechan... I-I think I see it!” “See what?” “Maybe my eyes are deluding me, but I think that’s the exit? Right?”

You both glance up at the giant EXIT sign in neon green positioned above a door. 

It takes a few seconds of studying and squinting before you two share a glance and vigorously push through, tumbling outside back into the normal world. 

  The sight of the black sky never seemed so reassuring before. 

“Y-y/n, we did it!! We escaped that rotten house!!” 

Laughing in joy, Haechan picks you up, spinning in circles until you can’t breathe. Maybe it was being in his arms or staring into his sparkling eyes that caused your heart to beat faster.

“GUYS!” Haechan finally sets you down at the outburst. How convenient, the rest of your group basically collapses outside the exit. 

“Please- let’s just get the hell outta here. That skeleton seriously moved, I swear. But...how did you guys escape so fast?” Renjun asks, a suspicious glint in his eyes. 

You share a smile with Haechan, growing when his hand sneaks around to fit with yours. 

“Cause we had the guts to do so.” 

“.........was that supposed to be a p-” 

“No, y/n. Don’t say anything. Don’t even give him a response.” 

Maybe haunted houses were pretty fun. With the right people, of course. 

#nct #nct dream #nct 127 #haechan #lee haechan #lee donghyuck #nct haechan #haechan x reader #lee haechan x reader #haechan scenarios #haechan imagines #nct x reader #nct 127 x reader #nct dream x reader #nct 127 scenarios #nct dream scenarios #donghyuck scenarios

[boop-le-snoot]

PARTY FAVOURS I CHAPTER 27

First time reader click here

TWs/Summary: If you read carefully, you knew this; if you didn't: reader was drugged at the party. Hangover from Hell ft. boys being cute, Loki being best friend material and reader fully integrating him into the Gen-Z community via Monster energy drinks and depressive music whilst being sad. I live for Loki/reader friendship tbh.

So folks, this is the last big plot thing before the endgame. I reckon it's about 10-15 chapters left until out happy ending and the next bit is going to focus on developing reader's and Stephen's relationship. There will be smutty parts too - either chapters or interludes, idk, depending on how well they'll integrate into the story.

I love y'all.

Ow, was my first thought upon waking up. My head throbbed something fierce, the pressure behind my eyelids was unbearable and my mouth tasted like a bog on a sunny summer's day. I was warm, from both sides, and one of the bodies felt foreign in everything besides the smell - sandalwood leaked through the lead curtain of alcohol and sex.

Needless to say, I had trouble piecing together the fine details of last night but had enough coherence to remember our... Activities. I was sore and Strange's long arm was still possessively draped over both me and Tony. The luck was on my side as I carefully wiggled out of his grasp, padding to the bedroom on quiet feet. The sorcerer barely moved, only grumbling briefly at the loss of my warmth and immediately quieting, shamelessly snuggling into Tony.

I would have not exaggerated if I said it was the worst hangover of my life. It was baffling, really, because I'd gone way wilder and didn't suffer half as much after effects; my first attempt to brush my teeth ended with my face resting against the toilet bowl, my empty stomach rejecting what little liquid in it was left as the room spun on its axis. That was incredibly embarrassing and I hoped my boys wouldn't wake up to witness my best impression of a bum - and they didn't, both men still sound asleep and interwined like snakes when I put on the shirt closest to me and departed in search of coffee.

My mood only worsened. Steve and Bucky were already up, shoveling an impressive amount of eggs and bacon, as Bucky quietly teased Steve about his own hangover. The blonde man was slightly greenish, disheveled - we traded equally glum looks and nodded to each other in silence. The smell of food made my stomach churn and I retreated, one black coffee in hand, towards Bruce's lab, having been informed by Friday that neither Tony not Stephen planned on waking up.

"Morning, Princess," Bruce smiled kindly, pushing his glasses out of the way to hold me close and give me a sweet kiss. "Had fun? The boys still asleep?"

I giggled at Bruce calling Tony and Stephen boys. "Yeah. I wouldn't be wearing Stephen's shirt if he was up and about, I think." I pointed out the obvious.

Bruce chuckled, holding my face to give me a long, thoughtful look. I stared back, hoping convey my respect and adoration without having to say a word; like Tony, I wasn't particularly apt when it came to talking feelings. Whatever Bruce was looking for, he found it, and sealed it with another kiss, twice as long and twice as sweet. We stood like that, my head on his shoulder and my arms firmly holding him to myself, until the elevator dinged behind the glass wall, revealing a shirtless Stephen and Tony in his pajama pants, both men bickering animatedly.

"Aw shit, here we go again," I rolled my eyes, unhappy about the possibility of the magic being broken. I rather preferred all three men to be like yesterday: friendly, kind and relaxed.

"I will kick them out if I have to," Bruce shrugged, turning me around to face them.

Tony smiled, seeing me, stopping mid-conversation. "Princess, I am disappointed in your lack of manners. You left me with Merlin and he is mean." The engineer unceremoniously snatched me from Bruce and smooched me, hangover breath and all.

"Gross, Tony," I rolled my eyes, giving the man a light shove in the chest. "Morning, Steph," I addressed the third man who had gone back to his usual stoic expression. Just to see his resolve crack, because I loved pushing his buttons, I gave him a good morning kiss too, and was unexpectedly blown away by the eager response from his side. As I pulled back, I noticed his cheeks dusting a light pink.

"I came to get my shirt but I think you'd rather keep it," The sorcerer's fingers caressed my skin beneath the collar of his shirt, voice still low and scratchy from sleep and those magnetic eyes fixated on the exposed flesh of my chest, no trace of previous awkwardness.

"You sure 'bout that?" I pushed one of the sides off, exposing my shoulder, seeing Tony gulp the remainder of my coffee, one hand already messing with the screen that Bruce was focused on. "I think I look better without it," I would never miss an opportunity to tease the uptight man.

"Quite," He grinned, "It's a shame I didn't get to see much last night..." Two could play this game, okay.

"Oh, but you will," Tony piped up suddenly, a hint of smugness in his voice barely covered by Bruce's fond chuckle. I really didn't know what to say, suddenly overwhelmed with the attention, my emotions amplified by the hangover - party drugs tended to exaggerate my anxiety on the comedown.

And what a comedown it was. My social energy ran out very quickly so I complained about a nasty headache and retreated into my room, Bruce's gentle hands pressing a bottle of Ibuprofen into my own. Despite my attempts to tame my rioting body, it got worse before it got better and shortly before lunch, I had thrown up twice more. Pissed off, I ran a bath with cold water and sat in it until I felt somewhat human to prepare myself for a journey to Wanda's apartment - as a last resort, I was going to chug on of Pietro's Monster energy drinks that I knew he kept hidden there.

The retrieval was a success. Cans securely hidden in the kangaroo pocket of Tony's oversized hoodie I had thrown on, I had to make a haste detour to throw up once again - the closest bathroom was in Loki's apartment and I only managed to knock twice before throwing open the door and making a mad dash for the porcelain throne, a very confused Asgardian following my movements with raised eyebrows.

"Hangover from Hell," I croaked once the first wave subsided. Loki nodded in understanding, waved a hand to summon me a water bottle and shut the door behind himself.

As I sat there, desperately trying to understand why was I feeling like utter shit... It clicked. Bile rose to my throat once again, and I just dry heaving, mulling my revelation over and over again.

I didn't take any drugs. I had been drugged. My memories became hazy and dream-like shortly after someone had given me the drink... Someone, who? It was a split-second moment; Sam, even in his drunk state, didn't keep his eyes off me for too long. Maybe it had been someone the team knew? Possibilities began playing out in my head. Cursed was my overactive brain - the anxiety from the leftover drugs was making me panic.

"Fuck, FUCK," My hands shook - I only noticed it because I had spilled water on myself, adding cold and wet to the unpleasant sensations I was already experiencing. "Why am I such a fucking fuck-up." Taking a drink from a stranger seemed downright idiotic now. Middle school bullshit.

"Are you alright?" Loki's worried voice interrupted my inner monologue.

"Yes," I replied, voice cracking. "No. I don't fucking know."

The door all but flew open, the Asgardian taking several long strides to take a good long look at me. The frown on his face tells me all I needed to know about my physical and mental state.

A slender hand tucked a stray lock of hair behind my ear. "What happened?"

I laughed tersely, feeling tears to begin welling in the corners of my eyes. "I'm an idiot," Seeing his face get annoyed briefly, I conceded: "I got drugged yesterday. My drink."

The hand that he had slid between my shoulder blades froze. I felt his whole body go rigid and his nostrils flare, the smell of ozone and something foreign - magic - filling the small space. The air around us became charged with the power of his anger. "Pardon?" His voice was dangerously quiet.

I physically fought with the need to flinch away from him, settling for lowering my eyes and staring at the dark stain on my hoodie. "I got carried away dancing. Someone handed me a drink and my stupid ass just shotgunned it," I confessed, picking at the wet spot. "And I can't tell anybody because I had a threesome with Stephen and Tony," I suddenly realised, my voice raising in pitch. "They're gonna think I didn't want it and feel bad. You know how Tony blames himself for everything under the sun..." Another wave of dizziness and nausea hit me as I leaned against the wall closest to me.

"Alright," Loki conceded after a brief pause. "We absolutely are telling the others. I'll make sure they understand," The Asgardian stated firmly in a tone that bore no argument. Seeing me lift my head to protest, he interrupted me before I could say anything: "Did you... Did you want it?" He asked me, hooking a single finger under my chin to look me in the eye.

I nodded, feeling my face heat up.

"You're not lying. The team knows of my ability to detect lies. Nobody will blame anyone..." Loki trailed off, obviously already plotting something. I wished it were a prank both of us were conspiring on instead of... Trying to make sense of this cluster fuck of a shit show. The circus called, they seemed to have left their clowns behind. "Although I will have a word with Sam." The Asgardian muttered darkly.

"No, it's not his fault. I just got too relaxed, I need to pucker up and be responsible for myself," I protested, damn well knowing it wasn't the Bird's fault. Everyone was drunk and I should've known better.

"It's not yours either," Loki sneered, seeing right through my self-loathing. It took a deep, slow sigh for him to calm down. His expression softened and the hand that was on my back resumed the gentle stroking as he scooted closer to me to press my side against his chest. "Vile people of this kind aren't exclusive to Midgard. It could have happened to anyone."

I nodded, my logical part briefly taking over as the waves of nausea and dizziness waned. I stifled a giggle, coming to another sudden revelation. "You holding up my hair as I barf out my hangover? That makes you qualified for the position of my Best Friend," I stated with a snort.

Loki chuckled, relaxing bit by bit. "I accept the position," His voice was unusually soft and a little bit shaky; I chose to tactfully ignore it. "Shall I call for assembly in the war room?"

I sighed, the dread and anxiety creeping it's way back in. "Can we just... Wait a bit? I have something- hold on-" I rummaged around my pocket, taking out two cans of Monster. Loki eyed them curiously and I extended one to him. "It probably won't do much for you but for me it's a last-resort hangover cure." I popped open the metal cap, seeing him do the same. "Be warned though, it tastes kinda funky if you're not used to it," I announced the disclaimer but it simply egged Loki on.

The scrunched up face he made was pretty funny. "It's sour but sickeningly sweet at the same time? I can't tell," He briefly eyed the written ingredients on the can.

"There are a bunch of flavors. Pietro likes the plain one, I like the purple one better, it's not so tongue-burning." I paused to inhale loudly. "If this is what college life looks like, I don't want to go," Mustering up my courage and gathering my balls in a knot, with one broad motion I closed my nose and poured the carbonated acid down my throat until my eyes watered. "Gimme a minute," I hiccuped, trying to keep it down.

Wide-eyed, Loki took a chaste sip of his own drink, eyeing me warily. He looked part impressed part disgusted with the little stunt. "I am pretty certain that is counter-productive."

"Caffeine make brain and body go skrrt," I argued back. "Friday, play my "grant me the sweet release of death" playlist. I'm upset," I announced and the AI obliged silently, the first notes of Placebo's 'Exit Wounds' beginning to play. If I was going to mop in a stranger's bathroom, I was going to do it with style. Even if said style was just simply stealing in my own misery with emo background music.

Loki stared at me, I stared back, both of us lost in our respective minds. At one point, he began swaying to the music slightly, resting the cool tin of the can against his cheek; I followed suit, mouthing along to some of the lyrics. It took us about a dozen songs to finally finish the liquid acid that was Monster energy drink and my ass felt like the bathroom tile itself: flat and hard.

"Do you ever feel like the universe just hates you for no fucking reason?" I groused, taking Loki's outstretched hand and slowly feeling the blood rush back to my legs.

"You wouldn't believe," He rolled his eyes in solidarity, vanishing away the empty containers. "Norns, give me a Hel-damned break."

I laced his arm through mine as we exited his apartment, feeling considerably less upset than I was before. I couldn't protect myself, but one look at Loki's sullen, irritated expression was bound to scare off anyone who dared to interrupt our mission.

THE TAG LIST IS NOW OPEN! @another-stark-sub ​ @mostly-marvel-musings  @vozit ​ @littlegasps ​ @pilloclock ​ @shereadsinquiet @downeyreads ​ @hermione-grangers-wife ​ @individualistfem ​ @sleep-i-ness @capbrie @lillsxd @agustdowney @dee-vn @justanotherblonde23 @fanngirl19 @persephonehemingway @softie-socks @schemefrenzy @letsby @cutenessloading @romeo-the-cactus @jelly-fishy-babie @mikariell95

#party favours #bun writes #tony stark x y/n #bruce banner x reader #stephen strange x y/n #tony stark x you #tony stark x reader #bruce banner x you #bruce banner x y/n #stephen strange x you #stephen strange x reader

[wrenhyperfixates]

Party Favors

Pairing: Loki x reader Summary: Loki comes to the rescue when your nephews’ birthday party is on the brink of disaster. Warnings: some curse words and implied smut; fluff

Disclaimer: Gif not mine

“No! Don’t run there. It’s slippery.”

“Hang on, the bathroom’s right inside.”

“There’s going to be cake later, and you don’t want to get a tummy ache.”

Gosh, kids were tiring. You’d promised your sister, Katie, that you’d help out at your nephews’ birthday party. It was a sticky summer afternoon, but the heat did nothing to slow down the thirty-something kids running around the backyard. Between neighbors, classmates, and camp friends, the birthday boys had quite the guest list. Your sister and brother-in-law were both chaperoning the party, along with some other parents, but you were still outnumbered. Even if you weren’t, kids in large groups seem to have a penchant for trouble. It sure didn’t help that they were all at the age where chaos seemed like average fun.

Spotting the twins, you decided to take a few photos for your sister, who was busy running around to make sure everything was running smoothly. “Hey, Timmy. Hey, Tommy. How’re my favorite nephews today?” you said after snapping a few shots.

“But Auntie (y/n),” Timmy started, “we’re your only nephews.”

“Yeah, and we’re eight now,” Tommy continued for his brother. “You can’t trick us anymore.”

“We’re big boys now,” they finished together.

“I guess you are,” you replied, laughing. “Not too big for the bouncy house, I hope.”

“Of course not, Auntie. Bye!” they shouted, running towards the inflatable castle.

You walked over to the boys’ father, Lucas, and helped him check all the Slip 'N Slides and water balloon supplies. Just when you thought you might get through the day without any disasters, your sister came running up to you and Lucas.

“The clown just cancelled. There was a huge traffic jam and he can’t make it in time,” she said in a conspiratorial whisper.

“That’s all right,” Lucas said. “I’ve been saving some grade-A dad jokes for a situation like this.”

Both you and Katie groaned, eliciting a hurt scoff from her husband. And then a genius idea hit you.  

“Wait a minute, guys. I literally work with superheroes.”

A few years ago, you’d scored a position at Stark Industries and, though you’d never worked in the field, often helped the team from the lab. You’d even played a large role in designing Tony’s latest suit.

“Could you really get one of them to come? I mean, aren’t they busy?” your sister asked.

Truth be told, you weren’t sure that they were free, but they definitely owed you a favor. You’d saved their butts more times than you could count. It was, at very least, worth a try. You found the quietest place you could, then called Tony. Then Thor. Then Steve. Then Nat. None of them picked up. In a desperate last attempt, you phoned the Tower hoping someone would pick up. F.R.I.D.A.Y. answered and confirmed the presence of one Avenger in the Tower. You immediately asked her to put them on, not bothering to check who it was.

“Hi. I have an urgent matter and need to call in a favor.”

“And since when do I owe you one?” a smooth baritone came from the other end of the line.

Shit, you thought, of all the people in the Tower it had to be him. You and Loki got along well enough, but you weren’t friends, per se. The two of you constantly kept up a witty banter that was often flirtatious. The others teased you about it, and you were sure they placed bets on which one of you would ask the other out first. That, of course, was stupid, as Loki obviously did not feel that way about you. And how you felt? Well, it was best not to dwell on it.

“Oh, hi Loki. Sorry, you weren’t who I was expecting. Where’s everyone else?”

“Out at the movies. They should be back in half an hour, if your urgent matter can wait that long.” You let out a frustrated groan, which prompted him to say, “Well, that’s certainly not how I imagined getting that sound out of you.”

You were thankful he wasn’t there to see you blush. You didn’t know if you could wait that long for the rest of the Avengers. That didn’t even include the time it would take for them to actually arrive. You were about to hang up and tell Katie she better try to find a replacement clown or magician when you got your second great idea that afternoon.

“Loki,” you said, “I’m sending you my location. Just come over as fast as you can. I’ll explain when you get here.”

Then you hung up before he could respond. You raced to the front of the house to wait but were nervous that he wouldn’t show. You didn’t have long to worry, though, because he suddenly materialized, making you jump a little. Sometimes you forgot that he could teleport.

“Your savior is here,” he declared, striking a dramatic pose.

You couldn’t help but roll your eyes. “Yeah, yeah. My hero,” you said before explaining the situation to him.

“Well, I’m afraid I’m not very popular with the masses, (y/n). I think you’d be better off waiting for one of the others.”

You couldn’t help but notice how he tried to hide the sadness behind those words. Before he could leave, you protested, “Kids may love superheroes, but you know what they love even more? Magicians!”

He raised a skeptical eyebrow at that. “I’m not sure how you came to that conclusion. Besides, I don’t much appreciate being reduced to a mere magician.” He stopped for a second to tap his chin as if deep in thought, before continuing, “But, I suppose if you ask nicely, I might consider it.”

You made your best puppy dog eyes and stuck out your lower lip while giving him a pouty please. He considered you for a moment before responding.

“Very well,” he said. “I will save you this time. Just remember that you owe me. In fact, I’ve already got just the thing in mind.”

The devilish grin he gave you with that last part caused an involuntary shiver to run down your spine. He noticed but decided not to push his luck. Besides, he genuinely found it cute. In fact, he found everything about you cute. However, he refused to acknowledge the way his heart beat faster when you took his hand to lead him into the house. As you were walking, he conjured a classic magician outfit for himself. Though, he opted to have green accents instead of the traditional red. When you turned back around to face him, you couldn’t stop the girlish giggle that escaped your lips.

“Like what you see, darling?” he asked, striking a pose.

“Oh, fuck off.”

Despite your harsh response, you were blushing. As much as you were loath to admit it, he was rather dashing in the suit and top hat. You felt a sudden rush of nervousness as you introduced him to Katie and Lucas. You could see on their faces that they were trying to figure out where they knew Loki from. The second they connected the dots, their faces fell, but the reassuring smile you gave them must have worked since they started gathering the kids for the show. In all honesty, you hadn’t thought about their reaction to his being there. Or the other parents’ reaction, for that matter. It was hard to remember that the world was still clinging to the madman he’d been at the battle of New York when you knew he was just a witty prankster. Actually, he did a lot of good for the world. To you, he was just Loki.

You offered him a grateful smile as he stepped up in front of the kids and introduced himself as Loki the Magnificent. For as reluctant as he was in agreeing to this, he was putting on quite a show for them. It was a good thing, too, considering how brutally honest kids could be. You let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding when it became apparent how enraptured all the children were with his act. He even brought Timmy and Tommy onstage to assist him with a few tricks. You made sure to take tons of pictures, partly for your sister, but mainly to tease Loki with later.

Once he finished his last trick, the kids were seated at various tables and the cake was brought out. You wanted to run up to Loki and thank him, but you had to help distribute the cake. After double checking that all the kids got a slice, you brought a piece to Loki.

“Hey, you were great up there. And I guess you really saved my ass,” you said, mumbling the last part.

“It was my pleasure. Believe it or not, I had fun.”

He raised a bit of cake on his fork in a sort of salute to you. You fully expected him to leave once he finished eating, but, to your surprise, he stayed even after all the guests had gone. You two were cleaning up the junk in the backyard when you found yourself thanking him again.

“Really,” you said, “I don’t know what we would have done without you.”

“Well mortal, let this be a lesson on how superior I am and-”

His sentence was cut short by you dumping a bucket of water down his back. You were laughing so hard that you didn’t notice him get one of his own to return the favor. You shrieked in delight as he started hurling leftover water balloons at you. You ran away from him, but his aim was impeccable. Pretty soon, you were drenched. Though you were able to seize some ammunition of your own, you were no match for the god.

“Okay, okay,” you shouted to him, bent over, trying to catch your breath. “Truce.”

“No way,” he replied, running up behind you and grabbing you by the waist. Lifting you into the air and spinning, he said, “I’m claiming this as a victory!”

Your laughter was making such a racket that Katie came to see what was going on. Through giggles, you apologized to her, but she just waved you off. Seeing as you and Loki were both sopping wet, she thanked you for all your help and sent you home to dry off. You wondered why she didn’t let you stay there to do so, but the smirk on her face answered that. Rolling your eyes at her, you said goodbye and then shouted farewells to Lucas and your nephews, who were inside.

You and Loki made your way to your car in a peaceful silence. You offered him a ride, but he insisted on teleporting you home instead. Only problem was, he brought you straight to his bedroom, not your home. You gave him a quizzical look that demanded he explain himself.

“Don’t forget, little one. You owe me a favor.”

“Oh yeah? Bring it on.”

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

After their movie ended, the Avengers tried to return your calls. You never did pick up. They didn’t have to wonder why for long, though. The sounds coming from a certain bedroom answered that question perfectly.

#loki x reader #loki x you #loki x y/n #loki laufeyson #loki odinson #reader insert #fluff #loki fluff #marvel #mcu

[merrysithmas]

hi! i don’t know if we’ve ever chatted before, but you were on my dash with some good stucky content and i thought i’d send some, too? if that’s okay? i love the thought of steve and bucky being best friends above anything— they were like that before they were lovers! i think that’s always forgotten in favor of romance. but in that sense, that means like,,, inside jokes!!! kicking each other under tables and clowning each other for funny faces they make!!! laughing during sex!! tugging at each other’s earlobes and hair and poking and prodding and just generally being menaces!! wrestling matches that end in soft kisses, only for bucky to go back to wrestling because he’s “gonna win no matter what, rogers”. anyway, sorry i rambled, just,,, good best friend to lovers shit

omg a thousand times YES!! this is my most favorite thing about them! this very real, raw, plainspoken, ride-or-die, hard luck circumstance, devotion and friendship they have for one another! preserum/prewar stucky is the whole reason why i started liking this ship in the first place like 🥺 it's that foundation of such SIMPLE PURE affection and closeness which in contrast makes the epic sprawl of their relationship so incredibly poignant and beautiful!

-like kicking their feet off the docks at Coney Island! spending all their money on hotdogs like idiots, Bucky has INSANE aim at the shoot-to-win carnival games and Steve's slack-jawed stunned about it. Bucky can't stop grinning and Steve's elbowing him in the side amiably as they walk. Steve dragging his feet to church with his strict as all hell Irish immigrant mother on Sundays and then making a B-line to Bucky's house the second he can breakaway after mass, scrambling through the alleyways of Brooklyn down their "secret passages". Bucky climbing the fire escape to Steve's window (Bucky was a Romeo back in the day) before romance even caught their thoughts.

-The first time Steve ever rode in an honest-to-god automobile was Bucky's father's car, before he died, before the Crash bankrupted everyone's dreams and accounts and hearts, before the barely more than hardluck Barnes' lost everything Steve never had and more. Steve knowing exactly where Bucky keeps his worn-to-hell dress shoes that he breaks out every time he goes dancing. How much those old awful shoes mean to him.

-The way Steve notices how Bucky's too-easy and bright to be real smile pops up only in the most dubious of moments, how Dot and Jennie and Enid never seem to make him laugh as positively red-faced and ugly as Steve does when they're just shooting the shit and Steve's sketching down the cityscape at sunset on the fire escape, making some hideously inappropriate joke that makes Bucky gag with laughter.

-The one-and-only time Steve ever cried after a fight when his orbital bone above his eye was cracked and his skin was raw as hell and maybe even on its way to infection, the time it hurt so bad he saw stars (and not in the good way, the sometimes bad high-chasing way he fought people way too big and too mean for him precisely because it was against his better judgement, and preened his worser insecurities), and Bucky's mucking around noisily in the kitchen clanging pots and pans trying not to rip his own hair out with wanting to hover and smother him, and eventually just presses a hot cloth with soap straight to it when Steve emerges red-eyed from the bathroom, and Steve's howling in pain from the soap, and Bucky's more pissed than anything now - maybe even holding his head against it a little too hard on purpose, goddamnit Steve he was three times your size, you want someone to kick your ass? How bout me huh? Huh?

-Bucky promising to go to the Met with Steve, finally making it up to Central Park together on the best day of autumn, leaves falling around them like a wonderland and they can't even believe their luck... something so simple and perfect. Roasted chestnuts at the holidays from streetcarts and their hands burning up from them because they dont even have gloves in this horrible wintry cold but it was worth the whole 3 cents and pricked up fingertips anyway.

-When Steve broke his nose and Bucky set it, the loudest string of curse words ever uttered or known to man. Listening to Dodgers games on the radio, standing up and sitting down and running their hands through their hair in agitation, screaming at the announcer, windows open, hot summer again, clothes drying on the clotheslines hung up across the alley.

-The way Bucky watches Steve's face when he's looking at one of those big mournful paintings hanging in the Met... like he's looking at heaven itself, or even better, learning to appreciate things down here for what they are just a little bit more. How Steve looks like the pale and fantastic figures in those paintings, how it's always so quiet in the museum hallways but Steve is lit up and alive, how Bucky tries to focus in on these concepts of art and structure and composition that he initially thinks are way above him - for Steve.

-Steve half asleep on the Barnes' couch as Bucky ties Becca's hair up in a ribbon for her date with Richard, and he's dozing to the sounds of the radio and the city outside. Bucky having Steve over for every Romanian holiday, Bucky's cousins making him drink Țuică and Bucky's mom making Bucky tell Steve about the dream she had that she's convinced is a premonition about Steve and a Red-Faced Monster...

sigh!

#stucky #this is it folks #the friends friends best friends of it all #caps-rogerswilson

[danddymaro]

A Touch of Happiness Pt.1 |Arthur Fleck x Reader

It’ll have like three little parts. something sweet and loving.

Thoughts are italics in quotations = ‘Example’

Flashbacks are in italics = Example

Word count :  2013

Part 1 : Thank You

She took in a large breath, letting a sweet, relaxing glob of air fill her lungs before she decided to step closer to the lonesome clown, and truth be told, it took her more than that one attempt to gather herself entirely.

She’d fumbled with the hem of her new suit’s jacket, pacing back and forth over and over before she fought against her better senses that told her to just walk away. 

And inwardly, she cursed at her nature, despising how easily she caved at the sight of the defeated man because, in Gotham, she shouldn't be so trusting.

She shouldn’t be so eager to walk through the filthy ally just to reach some stranger she knew nothing about.

 ‘But here I am,’ She mused just as she came closer to the man, each step that crunched under her little pumps making her heart fasten furthermore with anxiousness.

‘He could be a murderer.’ her consciousness chided her, ‘Or a robber at best you idiot!’ it went on,

‘AT BEST! So, Turn back....just turn back...Go back...’ It went on, the little voice rising with more distress and alarm as she was finally only just a few steps from him.

For just a measly second she stopped, swallowing down thickly as she made her final decision,

‘TURN BACK NOW!’ Her inner self barked one final time before she shook her head to rid herself of the negative thoughts, deciding to go with the little aching muscle in her chest that told her to help him.

Upon coming nearer she noticed was far too thin to be called slender, and that perhaps sitting alone in a filthy alley wasn’t his only problem.

He was terribly underweight, greatly concerning her, and with knitted brows she knelt to him, her voice soft and sweet as she tried to appear harmless to him in order to coax him out of whatever misery that clouded him,

‘Just a smile, come on now,’ She inwardly encouraged him, cheering for him.

 ‘Sometimes, just forcing a smile will get you through the day,’ She went on, ‘And other times when that doesn’t work... it takes a fool like me to infect someone,’ She mused, wanting to spread to him a small percentage of herself just to lift him up.

‘Sometimes I have A hard day too,’ She reasoned, wishing that during those times someone would walk over to her and sit with her. 

Not talk.

Not even listen.

Just sit.

‘Just knowing that someone is there...That someone in this awful city cares...’ 

The stench of garbage made her face scrunch up, but swallowing down the squeamish side of her, she focused more on getting the poor man out of there, momentarily shutting off her nose.

She made sure to keep her legs pressed together as she hunkered, her hand hesitant to actually touch him before she spoke, “H-Hey there,” She said with uncertainty, seeing him lift his head up to the sound of her voice. 

“Huh..?” A little sound left him as he gazed up at her, and with that single motion, she could see his face properly.

It was masked by a thick coating of makeup, something she’d been expectant of, however, the heavy smudges which had bunched up and left his skin naked made her breath hitch.

Vibrant, large green eyes glowed at the sight of her, ones she would have stared at longer had it not been for another color that stole the show, 

‘He’s...he’s bleeding !’ She thought with horror.

Scarlet dribbled down both his nose and mouth, causing her heart to ache at the pathetic sight, and what was much worse, it seemed as though they weren't the only marks on him. 

Purplish hues slipped through the thin patches of white that let her know that he had endured so much more in the past.

“...Oh...Oh no,” She said worriedly, frantically touching the side of his face with her shaking head,  feeling the oily mix of makeup and sweat as well as sticky, warm blood greet her flesh.

Her eyes dashed left and right to find someone to help her, but finding not a soul there with them in the filthy spot, something she was partially grateful for because she would have been terrified to find anyone else in the same alleyway.

It was only natural to search for help, the only reason she even bothered to look around, and it took that single glance to remember just where she was,

‘I really hate Gotham!’ She thought with dismay, despising its cruelty, much more the way it’d jaded its community.

She knew that if there had been anyone else to see the dilemma they would have walked away briskly, choosing to ignore them altogether to save themselves from any one else’s troubles.

“Oh...oh no,” she muttered again, “Oh God, are you alright?” She asked with worry, her eyes finding him again, peeled wide open and attentively.

Through his blurry, miserable sight, he saw an angel, A literal angel in every sense of the word came down to help him and he was so stunned, he laughed.

And laughed …

And laughed…

He laughed like a madman, croaking out soon after as he felt his already knocked out air leave him.

He could see it in her face: the clear as day fright. 

she was obviously freaked out, but nonetheless, she stayed.

All the while, her face was full of discomfort, but she held it in, biting her tongue as she helped him up instead, choosing to save all the questions for afterward. Knowing he was in for a particularly stressful fit he fumbled with his pant pocket, taking out a laminated little card that seemed to have been folded and bunched more than once, shakenly forcing it onto her hand so she could take a hold of it. 

“What’s thi-” Stopping mid sentence she read the words, soon understanding just why he was so eager to get her to read it, 

“Forgive my laughter,” She said softly, reading the front, “I have a condition,” she went on, wondering just what type of condition it was. 

‘I’ve never heard of it... much less seen it for myself,’ She thought while she continued to watch him let out the sounds of amusement that all sounded pained and heart wrenching as though every moment of it was pure hell.

Turning over the little laminated piece (f/n) continued to read, "It's a medical condition causing sudden... frequent... uncontrollable laughter that doesn’t match how you feel, “ She continued, “ It can happen in people with a brain injury or certain neurological conditions." She added with a touch of sadness and as she uttered the final words, she felt a powerful jab to her chest that rendered her weak. 

She then felt guilt for having wanted to back away when she heard the first burst of giggles escape.

However, despite the urge to flee, something in her heart had refused to let her move, urging her to help him, to give him the much-needed hand that he’d been denied until then.

And just then, she was thankful for that small part of her that was ‘stupid.’ because it’d kept her there.

“- That’s right, come on,” she encouraged him, patting his back, not knowing what else she could do before she tried to help him up. Grimacing, she used all of her strength to help him out, inwardly wondering how the hell someone so small could be so heavy,

“Let’s get you out of here,” She said anxiously, not willing to stay any longer out of public view, not trusting the smelly, narrow path.

So, steadily she helped the man make his way out onto the decently  populated sidewalk as he struggled with his ongoing fit, soon standing before the old, beaten  building’s large ‘out of business’ sign.

“Much better,” She muttered to herself, offering him a pretty smile, clearing the (h/c) colored strands that had annoyingly  fallen into view during her struggle. 

And soon enough he too began to compose himself, slowly growing calmed.

They spent a moment in silence before she shot her arm out to him, her hand set right before him, 

“Um...I’m (f/n) by the way,” She said with uncertainty, not knowing what else to say.

She wanted to ask more about his illness but didn’t want to seem rude, or much worse make him feel bad about it when she knew he didn’t want to live with it.

She was certain no one would want to live with what seemed to be a painful, inescapable moment.

‘ (F/n) ’ he thought to himself, all the while staring at her, unable to draw his eyes away.

“(f/n)” he repeated, his green eyes gleaming. 

He felt drunk on a sweet feeling he'd never been washed by before.

It was a lovely mix of appreciation and awe, as well as admiration sprinkled with something more he just couldn’t place, but he knew made him happy.

It made him feel alive and whimsical, something that’d only been an experience when his mind would wander to all the impossibilities that could never occur in his life, but he so desperately desired,

“I- I...I’m A-”

She continued to smile before she suddenly seemed struck by alarm, not letting him finish his introduction, her hands immediately flying towards the sides of her head and slapping there with a little sound that made him wince,

“The bus!” She exclaimed, her voice high and screechy, “I’m going to miss the bus!” she said with wide (e/c) colored eyes, double-checking the time on her cheap, little watch.

“If I miss it...” She trailed off, horror written over her face as she thought of what would occur if she did happen to miss the transportation.

‘No....no...I’m going to make it!’ She thought determinedly as she swallowed up a large, exaggerated breath, kicking off her little heels before she made a mad dash down the street, the pumps in hand after she hastily reached down to them, racing against time to reach her destination.

“Arthur...” He said softly, his hoarse voice small and weak as he watched her run from him, his heavily bouncing heart giving one final leap before it stopped, constricted as he realized that not only had he been left with the words in his mouth, but also with the 'thank you' she deserved. 

The sweet woman had been just a chance encounter he knew he’d dwell over, hurt because all in all, he couldn’t tell her just how much her selfless, little act had meant to him.

And then there was another thing that left him with his head hanging, 

“My card...” He breathed, “She...She took my card,” He added, feeling utterly stupid as he’d watched her scrabble away with it in hand, her mind probably scrambled with how hastily she’d left, not really meaning to steal it.

He felt defeated, yet within the bitter feeling of disappointment was a sweet, little touch of warmth that made him force a gentle smile,

‘To think... she stopped for me...’ He thought to himself.

He’d seen one too many people pass him up, not just then, but in the past. 

It’d hurt until he became numb to it, by then expectant of the cold shoulder of the world. 

However, with that single person that presented their hand to him, he couldn’t help but smile.

He felt something he thought had died somehow spring back up with new life, 

“Thank You (f/n),” He said out to the wind, wishing that the air would magically carry out his words of appreciation to her, letting her know that his day had brightened from it’s normally grimy filter thanks to her. 

It wasn’t much, but for once in a very long time he could see hints of soft colors begin to surround him, and he had her to thank,

“Thank you...” He said again, wishing he had a chance to properly express to her how much it really meant.

#arthur fleck fanfic #arthur fleck x reader #arthur fleck #arthur fleck x you #arthur fleck x y/n #arthur fleck x reader insert #arthur fleck x female reader #arthur x reader #dc joker #dc comics #joker #the joker #the joker x reader #joker 2019 #dc reader insert #the joker x reader insert #the joker x female reader #the joker fluff #arthur fleck fluff

[abyss-in-machines]

The First Move, Chapter 3

Two things: I didn’t expect (a) anyone to actually read these stories, and (b) actually request new chapters for this. I feel truly blessed. I am so, so, so, so sorry for the delay, but life really is super unpredictable, and I’m just blessed to still continue this. Thank you all, and I love you Gintsu shippers so much! @pwapuri @imxeracus here you go! \^_^/

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

AO3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26330785/chapters/70877502

“You kept muttering ‘Tsukki’ while drooling all over the bar counter last night. Who’s ‘Tsukki’?”

“Huh?”

“You heard me.” Otose fixed a piercing glare on Gintoki, as if having made up her mind to extract this piece of information no matter what. “You had a stupid ass grin on face, and you couldn’t stop being gleeful. That’s too abnormal for ya.”

Gintoki shrugged, his deadpan expression all set. However, his insides were just about ready to explode. He hadn’t really cared to let anyone know about the fact that he and Tsukuyo were going out, and right now he was absolutely terrified to find out the repercussions of letting one of them know. Gintoki definitely did not wake up today expecting to answer oddball questions about his love life, but life sure found ways to throw curveballs at him.

Why now of all times...

Otose did have her suspicions too. She had noticed it when the silver haired idiot partied with the sunglasses-wearing NEET in the bar yesterday, and had drank to oblivion. The other one crashed, and had to be thrown out of the bar, but the samurai had stayed quiet, simply lying his head down on the bar counter and enjoying whatever was served to him in his dreamland. She had seen how he kept mumbling the same name over and over, making hugging motions, and doing the most cringing smooch faces she had ever seen, and it became crystal clear to her that this moron was head over heels in love with someone.

“What is it to you, baba, go choke on nicotine smoke, you ugly old hag.”

“Getting testy now, are we” Otose muttered under her breath, her eyes widening menacingly. “Here’s the thing. Normally I’d pass this off as one of your many buffoon acts, but I saw how you were behaving, and there’s no mistaking something is up. Now, you’re gonna spit it, or you start saying your prayers.”

“Woah, easy there, baba, what’s with the hostility, eh?”

“You’re not answering.”

Gintoki slumps on the counter, leaning his head onto the palm of his right hand. “Baba,” he groans. “This has really nothing to do with ya. I swear to god, just please let me enjoy my strawberry milk.” He shakes his head and starts itching his nose. “And do leave me be in peace. This fucking headache is killing me,” he yawns.

They both stare daggers at each other for some time, a deadpan red meeting a wrinkled, yet sharp black. And then she explodes.

“YOU BETTER START SPITTING OUT THE TRUTH RIGHT NOW OR I EVICT YOU THIS INSTANT!”

“NO WAY IN HELL, KUSOBABA! I DIDN’T WAKE UP AND HEAD DOWN HERE TO HEAR YOUR SCREAMS, LEAVE ME ALONE!”

“ITS FUCKING 2 PM IN THE NOON, YOU SILVER HAIRED CLOWN!”

“Silver-haired clown? That’s a new one...”

Otose grits her teeth, racking her brain for ideas. Her eyes lit up, and she approaches Gintoki, smirking.

“Fine, have it your way. I’m pretty sure that the two kids would know who this ‘Tsukki’ is. And then I tell everyone.”

“Tell them what?”, he says, warily.

“That you’re in love.”

Gintoki’s heart stops. The old hag did figure it out already, she was just coaxing him to clean clean. He was vehemently cursing his past drunken self for indulging in another one of Hasegawa’s cheapskate drinking parties and putting him in this situation, while also thinking of how to squirm out of this situation. Maybe free labor might be his ticket out of this... even if the kids had been actually paying the rent on time now.

“Say, baba, how abou-“

“Nope, you ain’t getting out of this,” she states, grinning. “Only the answer, Gintoki.”

She sees how he’s internally battling it out, and cheers inwardly when he finally gives in and sighs. He takes a sip of the milk, and clears his throat.

“Fine, I’ll tell you,” he groans, and he straightens up, facing Otose. “Her name is Tsukuyo. She’s the leader of Yoshiwara’s police force, the Hyakka. She and I worked on a couple missions together, and we both helped each other out a couple of times. There, you happy now?”

Otose couldn’t believe her ears. The samurai had never ever leaned on anyone, or ever expressed his own thoughts and desires, and yet here he was, telling her about his love. Granted, she did extort the information out of him, but knowing him meant that Otose knew he would’ve never opened up. He had definitely changed since the time when the entire district had become a war zone, and Otose couldn’t help but smile at the man her adopted son had become.

“Come now, go on. How’d the two of you meet?”

“At Yoshiwara, when we were trying to get Seita to meet his mother.”

“Ah, I do remember you telling me about it. When did you two start going out?”

“It’s been a couple of months,” he said, retaining his signature bored face.

“And you didn’t let anyone else know?”

“It really wasn’t anyone else’s business, baba,” he shrugged, helping himself to some more milk. “Although I was gonna let them know sooner or later... just didn’t expect to have to talk about it this soon...”

Otose’s eyes flashed, another idea springing into mind. “Tell you what, I won’t tell anyone else if the two of you come over at the weekend for dinner here.”

“Done.”

Otose eyed his deadpan face. “...that was fast.”

“Free food. Can’t complain,” Gintoki retorts, as he finishes his milk. He gets up and stretches his arms and legs, preparing to leave, and doesn’t notices the bar doors sliding open and close. “Listen baba, just don’t tell this to anyone else, please. I ain’t ready yet for that commotion.” Otose nods curtly.

“Tell everyone what?”

Gintoki and Otose freeze, and slowly turn their heads towards the person standing at the bar entrance, a tall, red haired girl dressed in a red cheongsam, with a giant purple umbrella attached to her belt. She looked confused, and was staring intently at Gintoki, who stood still with his mouth agape.

“What were you guys talking about, Gin-chan? What can’t we know?”

Gintoki facepalmed.

*

Tsukuyo stood in front of the bar porch, unsure of what to do.

She had dressed up in her usual garb, not really keen on dressing up as fancy as she’d normally would for their date nights. Her self awareness over the roof, Tsukuyo was really struggling with trying to compose herself. It was awkward enough when Hinowa had found out that she was dating the perm head, and now she would have to talk about the same embarrassing topic with people she didn’t know at all. She was cursing her brain for being so bold and accepting the invitation, but there was really no way in hell that she could turn down the samurai’s request. Him actually asking something from her was a once-in-a-blue-moon event, and she could never forget the way his face lit up when she agreed. Small moment like those really made her appreciate the relationship that she shared with him, and she couldn’t be more thankful for his existence. Perhaps these dates have only served to deepen her love for him after all...

Remembering all of this, Tsukuyo steeled her resolve and knocked on the door. A few seconds later, the door slid open, with a green-haired maid standing close by inside. Wearing a blue yukata, she gestured Tsukuyo inside, greeting her with a small smile.

“Welcome, Tsukuyo-sama. My name is Tama. You’ll find Gintoki-sama and the others at the corner booth.”

“Thank you,” Tsukuyo replies, walking inside and looking around to see where they were seated. She didn’t need to look hard, for the silver perm in the corner was unmistakable. Gintoki had seen her too, and was waving at her.

“Yo, glad you could make it! Come over,” he spoke out. He sat lazily, but perched himself up as she approached close. Seated opposite to him were Shinpachi, Kagura, and an old woman she didn’t recognize.

“Tsukki’s here?!” Kagura shouts, and turns around to see Tsukuyo. She immediately jumps out of the booth, dashes at her, and pulls her into a tight hug. “TSUKKI! ITS BEEN TOO LONG!”

Tsukuyo smiles gently, and hugs her back. “I’ve missed you too, Kagura. It has been far too long. How have you been?”

Kagura pulls back, her face adorned with a radiant smile. “It’s been good, Tsukki. I’ve been training with Papi and working Yorozuya jobs, and got a small space hunting gig lined up soon, can’t wait for that.” She grabs Tsukuyo’s hand and brings her to the booth. “Come, we’ve got so much to catch up on!”

Otose and Shinpachi both stand up as Kagura brings Tsukuyo around, and Otose’s eyes widened. Here was a beautiful, blonde haired girl with eyes of purple, greeting Gintoki and Shinpachi, and conversing with Kagura, acting in the most normal of ways, something so uncommon in all of the people she encounters on a daily basis. And this is the woman dating the silver dumbass of all people... Otose really couldn’t figure out just how Gintoki had won the lottery. Coming back to sense, Otose cleared her throat and bowed her head to Tsukuyo.

“Greetings, Tsukuyo. I’m Otose, Gintoki’s landlord, and the owner of the bar. Thank you so much for coming over for dinner.”

Tsukuyo bowed in return, standing beside Gintoki. “Thank you for inviting me, Otose-san. I’m glad to be here.”

Otose smiled. And she’s well mannered too...

“All right, let’s all sit down. Catherine is readying the hotpot soon, and I’ve got enough ingredients for us all this time, so you can all eat to your fill. Yes, even you, Kagura.” Otose nods knowingly at Kagura, who cheers gleefully.

Gintoki’s eyes widen, and he looks at Otose. “Really went all out for this one, didn’t you, baba?”

Otose waves him away. “Urusai. We’re all long due for a celebration, anyway...”

Shinpachi nods, beaming. “She’s right, Gin-san. Thank you so much, Otose-san!”

Gintoki shrugs, content with it all. He moves closer to Tsukuyo, leaning close to her ear.

“You’re a sight for sore eyes,” he whispers.

Tsukuyo blushes, and pinches Gintoki’s arm. He notices, and mocks a surprised face.

“No kunais? I’m flattered.”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t exactly want your forehead splattering blood all over the hot pot and ruining our dinner,” Tsukuyo retorts back coolly. Gintoki grins.

“Whatever. I’m just glad to see you here.”

She turns towards him, a pleased look on her face. “Me too.”

Otose notices their interactions, and for a brief moment sees her own young self with her husband flash in front of her eyes.

Young love is truly beautiful...

*

Otose really wasn’t kidding around. Gintoki had never seen so much food available in a hotpot before, and by the end of it even Kagura had her fill and was exhausted. Gran really did splurge this time, even offering free beer, which he was more than willing to indulge in. However, Gintoki made sure to keep the alcohol as far away as possible from Tsukuyo, and kept passing her glasses of water. He also saw how shy she was in collecting the cooked meat from the hotpot, and made sure to slide extra food on her plate whenever possible. To his amusement, she blushed every time he did that, which got him grinning ear to ear.

Feeling full and somewhat tipsy, he leaned on the corner wall of the booth, watching Shinpachi and Kagura, sitting opposite to him, bickering about Otsu-chan’s latest album. The kids had taken the news extremely well, with Shinpachi expressing his happiness at Gintoki’s relationship while Kagura endlessly threatening to chop his genital parts off should he ever make Tsukuyo sad. They were definitely estate about tonight’s dinner party, and had congratulated Tsukuyo as well (which she took very meekly, to his unending amazement). Out of the corner of his eye, he glanced Tsukuyo and Otose, sitting at the bar counter talking, and smiled. The old hag was very gracious, conversing with Tsukuyo in a kind tone Gintoki never though was possible for her. Tonight really just kept on giving. However, the exhaustion was claiming him fast, and Gintoki decided that a quick nap wouldn’t hurt.

Noticing the samurai falling asleep, Otose chuckled. “You know,” she started, looking at Tsukuyo, “I never imagined the day would come that this idiot would actually bring a girl into the place. Always causing a ruckus upstairs with the two kids, but I’m glad that he had them around. They’ve kept things lively around here, but don’t let them know I said it. They’d let it get over their heads.” She smiled, and so did Tsukuyo.

“Don’t know about the kids on that one, but I can surely agree the he would,” Tsukuyo giggled.

Otose sighs, leaning on the table. “I’ve never had kids. Never had the opportunity. As soon as the Joui war started, my husband enlisted along with another dear friend of mine. He perished there, saving people like he always did my entire life. He’s buried here, in Kabuki-who, and in every anniversary, I’d always make sure to visit his grave with food. So one day, I visit his grave bringing manju, and I place them close to the gravestone. Suddenly, I hear the voice of this silver haired brat asking for the food!” She chuckles, reminiscing. “The brat reaches out for the food and starts eating, and offers to make a promise. To protect me for life, no matter what.”

She grabs a bottle of sake and two small cups, filling the cups and placing one in front of Tsukuyo. “No matter what, Gintoki has always kept his word. Sure, the brat is clumsy with rent, but he, the kids, Tama, Catherine… they’re all family, my family. He’s the son I never had.” She takes a sip from the cup, slowly exhaling after. “And that’s why, seeing him today being so happy really moved me beyond words. I see what your presence does to him, Tsukuyo. I can tell you, the kid had never looked like this ever. Never.” At this, she bows, startling Tsukuyo. “Thank you so much, Tsukuyo.”

Tsukuyo, filled with gratitude, felt tears welling up, and hastily bowed back. “I’m honoured, Otose-san. Thank you for taking care of him as well.”

Otose notices the tears flowing silently down her cheek, and clutches her hands. “There, there…”

“There are times,” Tsukuyo said, “where I feel I don’t do enough for him, that I’m not worthy of him. Gintoki really changed my life for the better, and the debt I owe to him for saving me is something that I can never repay. I hope to everything that I’m good enough for him… I really hope…” At this point, Tsukuyo cannot stop the tears, and Otose immediately rushes to her side, bringing her into a warm embrace and consoling her.

“Tsukuyo dear, you really shouldn’t worry. He chose you, after all. Of course you are good enough. Actually now that I think about it, you’re definitely far too good for his lazy dumbass.” At this, Tsukuyo laughs slightly, and wipes her tears off. “To tell you the truth, we all owe him, not just you. That’s just who Sakata Gintoki is. He takes on, but he never asks for help. He’s always there for us. So, don’t worry at all.” Otose passes her the cup. “This will help.”

“Thank you,” Tsukuyo replies, as she accepts the cup and takes a sip. Just then, Gintoki walks in, stretching his arms out and yawning.

“Well, that was a good power nap, feel like I could drink some more now. Baba, whatcha talking about with…” he trails off as soon as he notices the cup in Tsukuyo’s hand.

“Nothing much, just discussing how useless you are, the usual.”

“Baba…” Gintoki whispers, shaking. “What have you done….” Otose notices his genuine concern, confused.

“What, I just gave her sake,” she states, as she turns towards Tsukuyo, only to recoil in shock. Tsukuyo’s face was glowing red. She was wearing an eerie smile, and she looked at Gintoki menacingly, almost like she was ready ready to charge at him.

“Well hellooooo there, Gin-sama… how was yer slumberrr… ready to DRINK SOME MORE, YA SAY?!?” Gintoki stood frozen, not moving a single muscle.

Oh no…

#gintama #Gintoki x Tsukuyo #sakata gintoki #gintsu #tsukuyo gintama #romcom #fanfic #story

[meg-tann]

Listen to my voice

summary: sebastian, y/n and his friend Paul went through the IT haunted room and let’s just say sebastian is the best boyfriend ever...

warning : panic attacks (if this happens to you or you are not comfortable with this sensitive topic, i understand what you are going through and like the title I’m here) plus clowns, fluff

Story!

“Sebastian Stan, I already told you i am not going inside there” I said strenly to my boyfriend that was currently joking around about how I was being chicken for not wanting to go into some ‘stupid’ haunted room that they had made to promote the movie IT chapter 2.

“Oh come on Annalise, don’t be a buzzkill and ruin the fun” Paul’s voice rang from behind his phone that he was using to record this experience making me roll my eyes and thanks to my crude british nature, naturally I flipped him off. I heard Seb chuckling softly from behind me, his arms wrapped around my waist and chin pressed into my head.

‘thanks you height difference…’

“Oh come on angel, it will be fun besides it’s probably not even scary, it’s just an experience, not like anything is going to jump out at you” Seb said with that cute puppy dog eyes look he does making it impossible to say no too.

I groaned and huffed “you can’t do that! it isn’t fair” this only made Sebastian fake a pout more not responding.

‘why can’t I say no to this idiot’ I mentally rolled my eyes

I sighed and mumbled softly “fine......i’ll go in”. Instantly regretting agreeing to this after hearing Sebastian and Paul’s cheers. Lets just say that clowns were not my favourite thing.

I gripped Seb’s hand tightly as he pushed open the door to the experience room. Red strobe lights flashed across the room as it brought us to the scene with Bill and mirror maze. The echoing sounds of pennywise’s eery, ominous laughter blasting out the hidden speakers at a volume that only made me want to either turn around and bail, run away or just piss my trousers; or pants as Sebastian would call them.

The sudden small dashes of Pennywise and blood on the interior walls make my heart feel like it was going to pop up of my chest.

‘Maybe I shouldn’t wear a watch that tracks my heart rate..’

Suddenly, a hologram of Pennywise appeared on one of the mirrors making me scream loudly which caused Sebastian to jump. I could feel my throat closing up and your heartrate speeding up.

‘Fuck not right now please’ I thought as I cursed my stupidly persuasive boyfriend out.

Tears began to flow down my face from fear and I gripped Seb’s bicep closer to me, my acrylic nails starting to dig into him yet he didn’t mind.

I walked futher, now with Sebastian’s arm quite literally attached to my body, the strobe lights continued and was know starting to hurt my head making me wince softly in pain. I could practically hear my breathing get louder and harder which made Sebastian look my way, concern filling his face.

I knew Paul was still behind the both of us recording so that Seb could finally post something on his Instagram which is why I was trying not to make a big deal out of it.

All of a sudden, an actor dressed head to toe in pennywise’s costume jumped out and screamed directly in my face. His face was covered in that slightly smeared white paint with the red smile lines that were done in a way that it looked like it had almost been cut into his face. The bells on his costume jingled as he jumped and screamed around me before quickly ran away back around the corner.

It was like my whole body just shut down. My heart pounded against my chest and it felt like the whole room was going to collapse and close in on me. My breathing became so hard it sounded like I was gasping for air. Everything felt hot and immediately I shook my head, chocking out a sob as I pushed as many layers of clothing I could off.

My body dropped to the floor and I instantaneous hugged my knees into my chest. All you could see was Sebastian’s face stressed out, concern flooding every part of his face as he called out my name trying his best to calm me down. My ears started to block out any noise surrounding me as me stared blankly out at the room, tears falling down my face in streams of mass hysteria. I shut your eyes begging for it to stop and yet it still felt like I couldn’t hear anything.

And then I did.

“hey angel...i’m here”

“listen to my voice”

Sebastian

“paul turn the bloody camera off” he snapped at his friend who had forgotten that his camera was still recording the audio of the sensitive scene.

“he printesa, asculta-mi vocea”

“Am nevoie să mă privești”

“1....2....3”

I nodded my head and tried to listen, my eyes snapped open when I realised that Sebastian was carrying me out of the room. I was on the floor having an anxiety attack and there he was by my side like he promised. The same look of adoration that he always held when he looked at me - just this time scattered with slight flickers of concern.

I stared into his calm ocean blue eyes and after 10 minutes, my breathing return to normal. Sebastian continued to count down until he saw my once tense body relax. He knew I was going to be alright now.

“hey there my beautiful girl, you scared me there Sebastian whispers into my ear as he placed soft kisses on my temple and ear taking in the smell of my shampoo, his apparent favourite as he always tells me.

“hey” I whispered out, smiling when Sebastian wiped my falling tears with his big thumb, leaving a kiss on my now pink nose when he was done. He’s always been obsessed with doing that.

“i’m so sorry for making you go in there, it’s my fault, you were so brave” he tells me. I shook my head in denial and buried my face in his built chest breathing in the mix between his cologne and natural scent that I loved so much.

“thank you” I whispered, kissing him sweetly on the lips which he returned in an instant. Our lips molded together and I could still feel the butterflies in my stomach every time.

Paul cleared his throat “excuse me but some of us are still single” he said rolling his eyes.

I pulled away breathless and laughed, stick out my tongue in mockery.

“I didn’t do anything sweetheart, it was all you. You have nothing to thank me for” Sebastian said smiling down at me hugging me tighter to his chest.

“what do you mean? you calmed me down, you carried me out-” I started saying but Seb cut you off.

“And you listened”

End!

hey hope you liked the one-shot! to anyone who goes through these things i know how you feel, it had happened to me once but I didn’t have anyone to help me through it so it need anything or what to talk about anything and everything no matter the sizenof the issue or whatever. I am here and I will listen.

i’m am sorry if I didn’t describe that bit to your satisfaction, i described it from what I used to go through myself so I apologise if it wasn’t up the standards that it should have been. i am open to helpful criticism on how to make it better.

anyways i still do hope you liked it! you and please leave me an ask if you want any stories of one shots written in the future! request are always open.

- meggs xoxo

#sebastian stan angst #sebastian stan imagine #sebastian x reader #sebastian stan fluff #sebastian stan smut #It chapter 2 #bucky barnes #sebastian stan #sebastian stan instagram #sebastian stan fanfic #sebastian stan one shot #lance tucker #bucky barnes fluff #fluff #panic attack #It #pennywise