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crescenthistory · 1 month ago

Note

I saw that you wanted to write the girlies into your fics more often, so I wanted to make a request 8) Can I request a reader x Regulus where reader is crushing BAD on Reggie, and the girlies take it upon themselves to try and do a little matchmaking? I love your work, and your recent Barty fic was AMAZING btw!!!

the girlies<333 oh how i love them and their silly little adventures, thank you for giving me an excuse to write them babes! and for being soso sweet omg you're an angel

Summary: Dorcas has had it with two of her best friends walking on eggshells around each other to avoid their feelings. So, she puts her best meddlers on the case to end it once and for all, and make the idiots kiss.

Words: 5.7k (i am unwell)

Warnings: not proofread, mutual pining believed to be unrequited love, use of y/n, slytherin!fem!reader, background girlies, rosekiller and dorlene, teasing, awkwardness, language, confessions of love, really cliche but makes up for it in sweetness?

Note: who wouldn't be down bad crying at the gym for reggie?

Though you believed being humble was virtuous, you did pride yourself with being a particularly kind person.

Most people in the castle got over well with you, and you had been able to float in and out of all the major friend groups in your year. The self-declared Marauders often ran to hide with you when chased by a consequence in one form or another, and the Hufflepuff quidditch team seemingly adopted you after you cheered them up after their first loss of the season. With all the pressures of Hogwarts and the lives you were soon to embark on afterwards, it was the least you could do to spread some joy, and perhaps receive a bit in return.

At the end of the day, you always came back to your friend group, though – a heap of entangled limbs and snickering, usually found in the same trusted corner of the Slytherin common room. Barty was always in some way or another physically on top of Evan, rarely conventional cuddling positions, while Pandora sat cross-legged on the floor by them, preferably braiding someone’s hair. Dorcas would sit on the table or lounge chair, waving her arms emphatically, often hitting either you or her girlfriend Marlene – the one Gryffindor you all collectively accepted – square in the face, multiple times throughout the night.

Oh, how you loved them.

And if their cheers every time you returned to them from your little friendship tours, as Barty called them, were anything to go by – they loved you too.

Then, there was Regulus Black.

The victim of whatever positions Evan and Barty felt like sitting in, as he always sat at the other end of the sofa they inhabited. The calm and collected of the bunch, except for when Dorcas or Barty said something particularly outlandish he just had to argue with. The multitasker, always with a book in hand, whether for personal enjoyment or study-related, somehow devouring them while catching every word around him. The wittiest one, well-timed remarks hitting people – usually Barty – square in the chest.

The object of all your desires.

Because while you were a kind person, and arguably well-liked, Regulus was the one person you never managed to get quite close to. You were in the same little circle of friends, sure, and had been having friendly conversation and banter for the past 7 years. In theory, you know each other like the backs of your hands, but in practice you had never been alone in a room with him for more than a few minutes before he runs off.

It hurt you once upon a time, wondering what was wrong with you to make him seemingly be repelled from you like oil from water. Over the years though, you realised that is just kind of how Regulus operates. There is some reason behind all the mechanics, but they are not for others to know, just him to sulk over, and you have to accept what you’re given until he’s ready to offer more. Though you tried not to dwell on the fact that it was only you he seemed to avoid to that extent. You had to leave it to him to figure it out, you had decided.

You could live with that, but distance unfortunately made your heart grow fonder. Painfully so.

Regulus Black with his gorgeous black curls that have been so soft to the touch every time you have been close to it during your late nights around the fireplace. Regulus Black with his flowy white shirts and silver rings, gleaming in the glow of Hogwarts’s many candles. Regulus Black with his stupidly beautiful laugh whenever one of his friends could withdraw a real one from him, as if fished from the depths of his chest. Regulus Black with his striking grey eyes that you could get lost in, and have embarrassingly so, many a time. Regulus Black with his–

“Y/N would you quit pining for just a second and listen to me!” Dorcas’s exasperated voice cut through your musings, as you looked up at her with a non quizzical hum, only causing her to groan louder.

You were laying on your bed, almost ready for the night, while Dorcas apparently had tried to get through to you from her own bed mere metres from yours. Your best friend was sat on her bedside, hands on her knees as she looked just about ready to tackle you. Lovingly, of course.

“How’d you know I was even thinking about that?” you challenge, but there is no real fight in you as Dorcas’s gaze has already levelled you.

“You think about much else?”

“Rude.”

“Ruder to call him ‘that’. Put some respect on Reggie’s name.” You rolled your eyes, and had to fight the urge to shush her.

“Oh, don’t worry, he can’t hear us all the way from the boys’ dormitories.” 7 years of friendship had taught her almost too much about you.

“Would you stop trying to read my mind?” You climbed over in her bed to give her the attention she so craved. “It’s a bit intense.”

Dorcas flopped down on her back, sighing at nothing in particular. “You love that I know you so well. And someone ought to read your mind, if you’re not going to speak it.”

“Maybe some things are better left unsaid,” you teased her, but she kept giving you a narrow stare.

“I simply refuse to believe that.”

“Hey, where’s Marls?” you ask, not necessarily because you missed the blonde and pink haired menace you had come to view as a sister. Mostly just to shift the topic at hand. “Wasn't she supposed to stay the night?”

“Yeah, but she’s running an errand for me.”

“An errand?” You quirked a brow at her, looking over at a clock you kept by your bedside. “12 minutes before curfew?”

“Yes,” Dorcas said, giving you a duh look. Stupid you.

As if on cue, Marlene all but kicked down your door with a grin plastered on her face. “How ya doin’ ladies? I brought friends.” In behind her came Pandora and Lily, smiling a bit more softly, though there was a mischievous glint in Lily’s eyes that could only be a poor habit picked up from a certain Gryffindor bunch.

You gave enthusiastic greetings in return, happy to see your friends, but your brow still furrowed at the unexpected guests. A quick glance at Dorcas, whose lips curled into a grin so innocent that it immediately raised suspicions, only deepened your confusion.

“What’s this about?” you asked, voice laced with curiosity but also a growing sense of foreboding. A roomful of your closest friends this late at night – this had all the hallmarks of an ambush.

“Oh, nothing,” Dorcas said, too casually. She was still sprawled on her back, her eyes half-closed, but you didn’t miss the smirk playing on her lips. “We just thought it would be super fun to have a little... chat.”

Pandora was already situated on the floor right in front of you, humming some unfamiliar tune as she twisted her locs absentmindedly, while Lily leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed, a knowing smile dancing across her face. Marlene, never one for subtlety, was practically bouncing on the spot, barely containing her excitement.

“A chat?” You narrowed your eyes at them, already sensing that you were the centre of whatever this was. “That everyone knows about beforehand except me? I think that's called an intervention.”

Marlene’s grin widened. “You’re smarter than you look.”

“Hey!” You threw a pillow at her, which she easily dodged, cackling. “Okay, seriously girls. What’s going on?”

Lily stepped forward, eyes twinkling with mischief. “We’ve been talking. Well, more like observing.”

“Observing what exactly?” you asked, a sinking feeling creeping into your stomach. You knew these girls, and you knew when they were up to something.

“More like observing who,” Marlene interjected with a wink, as she casually threw herself onto Dorcas’s bed beside you, almost kicking her girlfriend in the face.

Pandora hummed softly, eyes now trained on her chipping purple nailpolish. “It’s just… you’ve been staring at Regulus like a lovesick puppy for years, and he’s been acting all distant and broody in response. Now that we're in our final year, the harmony should be set right before we all leave.”

You sat up straighter. “I have not–”

“Oh, come off it, Y/N.” Dorcas finally sat up, folding her legs beneath her. “You practically melt every time he so much as glances your way, and we’ve all seen the way you fawn over his hair like it’s spun silk. It’s borderline painful.”

Your face flushed, but you tried to play it off with a wave of your hand. “I don’t fawn.”

“You do,” Lily said, with the smallest hint of a smirk. “And Regulus? Merlin, that boy has been pining for you for too long. If you're a lovesick puppy, he's a kicked street dog.”

Your heart stumbled in your chest. “Wait– what?”

Marlene clapped her hands together in delight, as if she had been waiting for this exact moment. “Oh, darling, it’s so obvious. He’s completely smitten. Why do you think he’s always avoiding you? The boy’s terrified he’ll do something stupid like… I don’t know, confess his undying love for you in front of everyone.”

You blinked, completely taken aback. You expected them to give you a get it together speech, not... whatever this is.

“But– but, what, no, he’s always so cold around me. I thought–”

“That’s because he’s a socially inept idiot when it comes to feelings,” Dorcas interjected with a shrug, never one to sugarcoat it, though her voice softened when she took in your confused face. “Look, Regulus has spent his whole life trying to remain in control, but when he's around you he can't. So, if he can’t figure out how to act, he just… doesn’t.”

Lily nodded. “He’s not used to wanting something as much as he wants you.”

"Oh, he would not be happy knowing you're psychoanalysing him like this," you mumbled, mind whirling, to which Marlene and Dorcas just cackled.

Humour at the expense of their friend – what could be better?

You struggled to process this new information. You had left your relationship with Regulus to fate, an open invitation for friendship without pursuing anything more than that. As long as you could admire him from afar, you figured it was enough. The thought that he might have felt the same, but not know how to go about it felt foreign to you. It seemed impossible, and yet, when you thought back, the signs were there. The way his eyes lingered on you just a bit too long when he thought you weren't looking. The way his laughter – rare and beautiful – sounded a little softer, a little more genuine, when you were around. The way he physically ran away from you when you got too close, always some handy excuse ready...

You had chalked it up to his aloofness, to his enigmatic nature. A large part of you, fragile and uncertain, still wanted to.

“I don’t know…” you started, still hesitant. “What if you’re wrong?”

Pandora smiled softly at you, her eyes gentle but firm. “We’re not wrong, Y/N. The stars told me as much. But if your heart needs proof, we’re going to help you get it.”

Your gaze snapped to her, as blood rushed through your head. “Help me… how?”

“That’s the best part!” Marlene all but squealed, bouncing up from the bed and throwing her arm around you. “We’re going to play matchmaker!”

You stared at them, wide-eyed. “What? No! You’re not– no meddling! You’ll make things worse.”

Dorcas just gave you a knowing look, leaning back on her hands. “How can we make things worse if there is nothing at fuck all going on between you right now because you can't get your heads out of your asses?"

"We're friends, Dorcas!"

She sighed, as if you were a child, but gave you a soft look. You think she was trying to be reassuring. "We’re not going to make things worse. We’re going to force you two to face each other, and maybe then you’ll finally stop dancing around your feelings.”

“I don’t–”

“Too late, darling,” Marlene interrupted, her grin wicked. “Plans are already in motion.”

Lily smirked. “We’ve got it all figured out.”

You were about to protest again when Pandora placed a soft hand on your shoulder. “Trust us,” she said, her voice a soothing balm against the rising anxiety in your chest. “This is going to work.”

You sighed, rubbing your temples. There was no stopping them, you knew that much. Once this group had an idea in their heads, there was no turning back. Still, the thought of whatever they had planned made your stomach twist in both excitement and dread.

Marlene clapped her hands together once more. “Right, first things first. Tomorrow, we’re going to get you two alone.”

“And then what?”

Dorcas’s grin widened. “Then, you’re going to talk to him.”

"Talk?" you repeated, your voice squeaking slightly.

"Yep," Lily said with a satisfied nod. "Just talk."

"That's the worst plan I've ever heard in my life. Scratch that, not even really a plan. Just the worst I've ever heard."

"You're lashing out 'cause you're scared." Marlene said in a fake-hurt voice, wiping invisible tears from her eyes as Dorcas shoved her.

You swallowed hard, your mind spinning with a hundred different emotions.

“Don’t worry, love," Lily almost cooed at you. "We’ll make sure everything goes perfectly.”

"How?"

"We'll see where the day takes us."

Your eyes flitted between the four of them, realising then that there was no getting out of this, and that you were not sure any of you even knew what this was yet.

You let out a groan as you flopped ceremoniously down on the bed, hiding your face in your eyes.

All girls cheered as they knew that was your sound of defeat, and thus their green flag to go crazy.

The next day, your nerves were buzzing like a poorly-executed Cheering Charm gone wrong. The plan – their plan – was apparently in full swing, and you had absolutely no control over it. In fact, your only plan was to somehow avoid being alone with Regulus Black at all costs.

Despite Dorcas's little lecture to you this morning about just ripping the fucking bandaid off love, gosh, you were entirely not on board anymore. Not that you ever were.

You had tried pleading with them again at breakfast, but they had brushed you off with reassuring pats and sly grins, as if your rising panic was nothing but a trivial detail. And so, here you were, pacing in the common room while the rest of the girls casually lounged, casting side glances at you and whispering like they weren’t blatantly scheming.

“Stop fussing, would you,” Marlene drawled, draped across one of the armchairs, looking far too pleased with herself. “We’ve got it all handled.”

“You’ve got nothing handled,” you hissed, feeling the dread creep up your spine. “You’re going to ruin everything. I mean, what if he freaks out? Or worse – what if he laughs at me?”

Lily, who was lounging with a book in her lap, raised an eyebrow over the top of it. “Y/N, Regulus Black doesn’t laugh at anything that isn’t Junior falling down the stairs. You’ll be fine.”

“Yeah, and even if he does freak out,” Dorcas added, casually tossing an apple in the air, “it’s because he’s an emotionally stunted mess, not because he doesn’t like you.”

Your face burned. “That’s not exactly comforting.”

“Trust us, Y/N. We wouldn’t be doing this if we weren’t sure," Marlene groans. "He likes you, okay? He’s just too much of a brooding, melodramatic git to do anything about it.”

You opened your mouth to protest again, but before you could, Pandora, ever the quiet voice of reason, gave you a soft smile. “It’ll be okay. Just be honest. You might be surprised by what he says.”

For half a second you dwelled on the fact that Pandora was the one everyone went to as their little therapist, and maybe her reassurance is not just speculation, as with the other girls.

You didn't allow that second to drag out, lest your head explode.

The sincerity in her voice almost made you believe them, though. Yet the idea of being locked in a room with Regulus, of all people, and forced to confront the swirling mess of emotions you had been harbouring for years? That was terrifying.

“I don’t know,” you said, backing toward the door in a desperate attempt to flee. “Maybe we should just–"

Dorcas was quicker than she looked. She slid in front of the exit, blocking your escape route with a triumphant grin. “Nope. You’re staying put.”

Before you could make a break for it, Marlene hopped to her feet, suddenly all business. “Right. It’s time. Pandora, Lily, you ready?”

“Ready,” they both said in unison, as if this were a Quidditch match and not the absolute destruction of your sanity.

“Wait– what’s happening?” you asked, voice rising with panic.

“We’re just going to have a little chat with Regulus,” Lily said with a wink, standing up and smoothing her skirt. “Should only take a minute.”

You watched in horror as the three of them sauntered out of the common room, leaving you in a state of rising dread. Dorcas remained blocking the door, arms crossed and a gleam of determination in her eyes.

“You don’t have to do this,” you said, trying one last desperate appeal to her better nature.

“Oh, I really think I do,” she replied with a grin. “Now, be a good sport. You’ll thank me later.”

Dorcas with her quidditch strength, picked you up and carried you to your dormitory despite your many loud protests. She practically shoved you inside, landing awkwardly on the floor, heart pounding in your chest.

“Just… read something and try to relax,” Dorcas called over her shoulder, slamming the door shut behind you. “We’ll handle everything.”

“Dorcas!” you yelped, but she was already gone.

You groaned, pushing yourself up off the floor and onto one of the beds, grabbing a random book from the bedside table in a futile attempt to calm your racing thoughts. It didn’t help.

Not even five minutes later, you heard the faint sound of footsteps outside the door, accompanied by hushed whispers that made your stomach drop.

“Marlene, what are you up to?” you muttered to yourself, sinking lower into the bed. You barely had time to brace yourself before Marlene’s voice echoed from the hallway, far too chipper for the situation.

“Oh, Reggie!” she called out in a sing-song voice that was dripping with false innocence. "I think I saw the creature run in here!"

Your heart immediately stuttered in your chest. No, no, no–

“In behind this... closed door?” came Regulus’s unmistakable voice, low and suspicious. There was always something about his tone, that subtle roughness to his otherwise smooth words, that made the hairs on the back of your neck stand on end.

“Ugh, yes, please go fetch it,” Lily chimed in, her tone too casual to be convincing.

There was a beat of silence, and you could practically feel Regulus’s confusion through the door. “In the girls’s dormitory?” His voice was flat, unimpressed. "Can't you guys?"

"No, you're the one who got an Outstanding in Care of Magical Creatures. Please."

They couldn't be serious. What a master plan.

“It's important, Reg,” Pandora added, ever so softly, but with an edge of persistence that could sway anyone who wasn’t keen on questioning her.

There was another pause, and you held your breath. You could picture Regulus now – his sharp, silver eyes narrowing, a flicker of doubt crossing his face, his brain probably piecing together that whatever this was, it wasn’t something he should agree to. Not even Regulus is immune to charm and coercion from his friends though –and he probably couldn’t fathom the idea of Marlene calling for his help if it weren’t truly necessary – and you clearly heard his reluctant sigh through the door.

“Fine,” he muttered, footsteps nearing the door.

You had just enough time to consider how humiliating it would be to try and throw yourself out the window, but alas, Hogwarts windows didn’t accommodate such escapes.

The door creaked open, and there he was.

Standing in the doorway, looking like the very embodiment of a storm in human form, all brooding energy and understated elegance. His black curls were slightly dishevelled, his usual pristine appearance marred just enough by the casual looseness of his shirt collar, which somehow made him look even more effortlessly intimidating.

He looked around the room, eyes landing on you and widening slightly.

"Oh, hey Y/N, have you seen–"

Before you could answer or before he could even finish his sentence – slam. The door shut behind him with a loud click, the lock snapping into place.

Regulus’s head whipped around, his hand immediately going to the doorknob, shaking it lightly. “What the bloody hell?”

You watched in horror as the unmistakable sounds of footsteps retreated down the hallway, followed by Marlene’s faint, gleeful laughter.

“I’ll kill her,” you whispered, more to yourself than anyone.

Regulus sighed deeply, his hand dropping from the door. He turned back to you, jaw tight, a muscle twitching at the corner of his mouth. "That makes two of us," he said, having clearly heard you across the room that felt increasingly smaller.

You laughed lowly, but couldn't quite meet his eyes.

“So… I’m assuming this beast was part of some master plan.”

You nodded, feeling your face heat up. “Yeah, pretty much.”

There was a heavy silence between you, the kind that felt both unbearably awkward and strangely charged. Regulus stayed by the door, leaning against it as though contemplating whether he could somehow break through it with sheer willpower. You, meanwhile, sat on the bed with your heart pounding in your chest like it was trying to escape the mess your friends had created.

Regulus’s eyes flicked to you, his expression guarded but curious. “You don’t… know what this is about, do you?”

You tried to swallow past the sudden lump in your throat, your fingers gripping the edge of the book like it might anchor you to reality. “I have a guess.”

He raised an eyebrow, crossing his arms over his chest in that way that made him look even more imposing. “And?”

“And,” you echoed, your voice faltering under the weight of what you were about to say, “they seem to think that locking us in a room together is the perfect opportunity for us to, uh… talk.”

Regulus let out a humourless chuckle, shaking his head as he leaned his back fully against the door. “Talk. Of course. That sounds exactly like something Marlene would come up with.”

There was a pause, and his gaze, which had flickered away momentarily, settled on you again. You could swear his eyes softened ever so slightly as they swept over you – taking in the awkward way you sat on the bed, your hands still gripping the book like it was a lifeline. You noticed the way his shoulders, usually squared with tension, seemed to relax just a fraction, as though being here, with you, wasn’t as unbearable as you had feared.

He cleared his throat, clearly struggling to find something to say. “So… what were you reading?”

“Oh, uh…” You squinted at the title, stifling a laughter as you realised what it was. “It’s, um… Hogwarts, A History.”

Regulus’s lips twitched, amusement flickering in his eyes. “Really? You’re reading that?”

Your face heated even more, and you quickly abandoned the book, tossing it to the side. “Okay, no. I was trying to look busy while panicking over the fact that I was about to be locked in a room with you.”

"You knew?"

"I got a small warning after I was thrown in here."

"By Dorcas or Marlene?" he asked, amusement gleaming in his eyes because he knew you meant it literally.

"Dorcas."

He hummed in approval before his brows furrowed, as if registering your whole conversation, and he took a step closer, his usual guarded exterior slipping just a bit. “Why would that make you panic?”

The one question you didn’t have a safe answer for. You could feel your heart racing again, but there was something about the way he looked at you, something soft and searching in his gaze, that made it impossible to retreat.

You swallowed hard. “Because… I don't know. You’re Regulus Black.”

The words came out in a rush, like they explained everything, and to you, they did. Regulus, though, just stared at you, his expression unreadable.

“I don’t understand,” he said quietly, his voice low but noticeably not cold. “Why would my family matter?”

You laughed nervously, standing up from the bed as if that might help calm the chaotic swirl of emotions in your chest. “Not your family. You. Regulus. You’re just... you. You’re smart and brilliant and intimidatingly beautiful and–” You stopped yourself, suddenly horrified by the direction your rant was going. “And it just didn’t seem like you’d ever want to be stuck in a room with me.”

Regulus blinked, his posture stiffening as if your words had physically hit him. For a moment, the usual cool facade he wore cracked, revealing something vulnerable beneath.

“You think I don’t want to be around you?” His voice was barely above a whisper, but there was an edge of disbelief in it.

You looked away, unable to bear the intensity of his gaze. “I mean, yeah. You always seem so distant when I’m around. Like you can’t wait to get away.”

Regulus was silent for a moment, the air between you growing thick with tension. When he finally spoke, his voice was softer, quieter. “That’s not because I don’t want to be around you.”

You lifted your eyes to meet his, surprised by the raw honesty in his voice.

He stepped closer, his movements slower, more deliberate, like he was unsure of what he was doing for the first time in his life. “I… avoid you because I don’t know how to be around you without making a fool of myself.”

You blinked, completely thrown by his confession. “What?”

Regulus exhaled a shaky breath, running a hand through his hair, clearly frustrated with himself. “I’m not good at this – at feelings. At talking, like the girls wanted. You make me feel things I don’t know how to handle. So, I do the only thing I know how to do. I keep my distance.”

Your heart thudded in your chest, a mix of disbelief and hope rising in your throat. “Regulus…”

He met your gaze, and for the first time in the years you had known him, you felt as if you actually saw him in his eyes. The real him.

“I’ve liked you for longer than I care to admit,” he said, his voice low and steady now. “And it scares the hell out of me.”

You felt your breath catch, his words sinking into your chest and settling there, warm and heavy. It was as if the entire world had shifted in that moment, the tension between you now a living, breathing thing, pulsing with the weight of everything left unsaid.

"L– liked me?"

Regulus couldn't do anything but nod.

Without thinking, you closed the distance between you, stepping closer until you were just a breath away from him. You could see the way his chest rose and fell, his eyes flickering down to your lips for the briefest second before he caught himself, jaw tightening.

“Regulus,” you whispered, the world narrowing to just the space between you. “I’ve liked you too. For so long.”

His breath hitched ever so slightly, eyes wild.

He didn’t respond with words – he didn’t have to. In one swift motion, he closed the remaining gap between you, his hands gently cupping your face as he leaned in and pressed his lips to yours.

The kiss was tentative, as if both of you were still testing the waters of something too fragile to fully comprehend. Regulus’s hands, cool but steady, cradled your face with a gentleness that sent shivers down your spine. The rest of the world faded away – your racing thoughts, your anxieties, the locked door behind you – none of it mattered in that moment.

It was just him. It had always been him.

As the kiss deepened, Regulus’s usual restraint seemed to dissolve, replaced by something raw and urgent. His fingers curled against your skin, one hand suddenly on the small of your back, drawing you closer until there was barely any space left between you. You felt his heart beating against your chest, fast and unsteady, matching the erratic rhythm of your own.

It was everything you had imagined, everything you needed.

You melted into him, lips, body and soul, before you pulled away breathless. The room felt impossibly still around you.

You were both standing there, eyes wide, inches apart, as if neither of you could quite believe what had just happened. Regulus’s lips were still parted, his gaze flickering from your eyes to your lips and back again, as though he was trying to memorise everything about this moment.

"Do you mean it?" he murmured. You felt his lips brush yours as he spoke.

You didn't need to ask what he meant. Instead you whispered a passionate yes before kissing him again, lingering against him. You could feel him begin to smile against you.

"This is not what I expected to come out of this," you whispered, your voice shaky but filled with a quiet, disbelieving laugh.

Regulus let out a breathless chuckle, one that sounded almost surprised, like he couldn’t quite believe it either. “I can't say I did either.” He paused, his thumb brushing lightly against your cheek. “But I’m not complaining.”

You smiled, warmth flooding your chest, and for the first time in what felt like forever, there was no uncertainty hanging between you. Just you and Regulus, and the quiet realisation that maybe, just maybe, all those years of longing and misunderstanding had led you exactly where you were meant to be.

You were about to say something – something witty, maybe, to break the tension – but then–

BANG!

The door flew open, slamming against the wall with such force that both you and Regulus jumped apart, your heads whipping toward the entrance just in time to see Marlene, Lily, Dorcas, and Pandora tumble inside, practically tripping over each other in their mad dash to get through the door.

“There they are!” Marlene shouted, grinning like the Cheshire Cat. She pointed dramatically at the two of you, looking like she had just witnessed the Quidditch World Cup. “I told you it would work!”

Lily snorted, pushing past Marlene and raising an eyebrow as she glanced between you and Regulus, both still slightly dishevelled and very much caught in the act. “Honestly, Marlene, you could have given them a few more minutes.”

You groaned, heat rushing to your face as you buried it in your hands. “Were you all just waiting outside the entire time?”

Pandora gave you an apologetic smile, but there was a mischievous twinkle in her eyes. It made her look all the more like Evan. “We were just… keeping an eye on things.”

Regulus, who had taken a deliberate step back when the door burst open, gravitated slightly more towards you again as he ran a hand through his hair. “I can’t believe you lot talked me into this.” For all intents and purposes he looked exasperated – but his lips twitched in amusement.

“Oh, don’t act like you hated it,” Dorcas teased. “You’re welcome for the facilitation by the way.”

“Facilitation?” Regulus repeated, his voice dry as he glanced around the room full of over-enthusiastic matchmakers. “That’s one word for it.”

Marlene was practically bouncing on the balls of her feet. “I have no words for how pleased I am with myself right now.”

"Evidently." You and Dorcas chorused at the same time, causing you both to giggle, though you tried to stifle it.

“You’re all completely insufferable," you said through an ever-growing smile.

“And yet,” Marlene drawled, throwing an arm around Dorcas’s shoulders, “you love us anyway.”

Regulus caught your eye, and despite the absurdity of the situation and the embarrassment of being ambushed by your meddlesome friends, you couldn’t help but laugh. His lips quirked up in that rare, almost-hidden smile he reserved for moments like this.

“Alright, alright,” Lily said, clapping her hands together as if trying to herd a group of first-years. “Now that this mission is accomplished –” she shot a pointed look at you and Regulus, “– we should probably leave them alone.”

Marlene looked like she was about to protest, but Pandora nudged her toward the door. “Give them some space.”

As they filed out, Marlene shot you one last wink over her shoulder. “Don’t worry, I expect all the juicy details later.”

You groaned again, shaking your head as they finally disappeared down the hallway, their laughter echoing faintly behind them. When the door closed with a soft thud, the room seemed impossibly quiet again, save for the soft crackle of the fire in the corner.

You turned back to Regulus, who was watching you with a look that was both amused and affectionate, his usual mask of indifference nowhere to be found. He stepped closer to you, arms circling around your waist.

"Your friends are idiots," he said with no real malice in his tone.

"Yeah, but so are we."

In privacy with you, Regulus's smile widened in a way that made your stomach flip, as he leaned in for another kiss.

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uglypastels · 3 months ago

Note

can you do a mutant fem reader x logan but her powers are like bens from the umbrella academy and but readers like shy/kind kinda crybaby personality <333

a short but sweet blurb <3

warnings: struggles with powers. over-exhaustion

~ X-Men requests Open ~ Masterlist ~

Missions were not exactly a school trip, you were very well aware of that, but you had expected them to go a bit better. To get some kind of enjoyment or satisfaction out of them. Instead, the sheer thought of having to go to battle made you sick. At least when it involves your abilities.

Hand-to-hand combat you were alright with. You had, after all, trained for years to be able to disarm any prick with a silly little gun that would come at you. And your skills with a blade weren’t too bad either, but when things turned for the worst and the situation called for your powers, you’d rather sink into the ground.

And it was not all because of the physical discomfort that the tentacles brought. After enough experiences you had gotten used to the quite literal gut-wrenching and pulling that came with it. It was the fact you had no way of controlling them once they appeared. It always took such immense physical and mental strain to direct them, not to mention retract them again, that it took days for you to get back to normal.

You could usually tell when it would be a particularly bad case. Like right now, as you screamed with all your might, trying to push the monster inside you back where it belonged. The scream could have been enough to daze most of your enemies, and so you were sure that after some rest, the others would want you to pursue some training in that department to see what kind of damage you could do with your voice. Since that’s all you were good for— a weapon of destruction.

The scream kept on going until you couldn’t take it any further. There was the familiar release in your abdomen; everything around you fell to silence as you fell to your knees. You felt a pair of arms wrap around you, and at the contact, you could not help but wince.

‘Shh, it’s alright, I got you.’ It was Logan. With an ease that never failed to impress you, he picked you up in his arms. He could feel you shaking, and you were unable to keep your eyes open for longer than a few seconds at a time. Just like he had thought, the effects of using your powers so extensively were taking a toll on you. That much was clear, but no one ever listened to him.

‘Stay with me, sweetheart.’ He wiped some of your hair from your face. ‘You’re save now.’

‘Logan?’ your voice came out so weak it nearly made his own legs buckle.

‘I’m right here.’ He spoke softly, letting his lips hover over your face so you could not only hear his heartfelt words, but also feel them as his breath tickled your burning cheeks. ‘Let’s get you home, hmm.’

the end.

thank you for reading 💗

if you enjoyed the fic, please consider reblogging and leaving a comment. or send a message via my inbox. requests are also more than welcome. 💗

#logan howlett #logan howlett fanfiction #wolverine x reader #wolverine x you #wolverine fanfiction #logan howlett x reader #x-men fanfiction #fanfiction #fanfic #angst #fluff #imagine #request #logan howlett fanfic #wolverine #wolverine fanfic #x men #x men fanfiction

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hotvintagepoll · 2 months ago

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Welcome to the HOT AND VINTAGE MOVIE STARS poll blog!

The Scrungly Little Guys (gender neutral) Contest will start THIS THURSDAY, September 26th. All contestants have now been processed and are ready to scrungle it up for your enjoyment. Reminder that this contest enshrines the weird, the off-putting, the comic, the character actor, and the strange cinema legend. If you need a reminder of what scrungle means, this picture is the golden standard.

All polls—including ongoing polls, previous rounds, old tournaments, the various shadow brackets, the Dracula Daily polls, and fun mini polls—can be found in the #hotvintagepoll tag. I am working on a more complete tagging system so people just here for the polls can navigate the blog more easily, but that's still in the works.

FAQs:

“Define scrungly?” For the purposes of this tournament, a contestant must noticeably present in some way as at least one of these: odd, bizarre, off-putting, disheveled, creeping, feral, small, filthy, silly, funny, kooky, comical, exhausted, or just plain strange. This contest presents a wide array of scrungly appeal, so not every contestant will hit every single one of these (but should, ideally, be a few of them). Scrungles were chosen based on how convincing their submitted propaganda was. This contest is all about oddball character actors, creeping henchmen, comic relief sidekicks—the side characters who never get the credit they deserve in proper rundowns of famous old movie actors.

"How do I decide who to vote for?" Vote on whoever seems scrungliest to you. Do not vote for someone based on hotness alone. The video propaganda, included under the cut, is highly encouraged for showcasing scrungles.

"Is this just like the hotness tournaments?" No. This contest is sillier.

"Hey! Some of these guys sucked and they shouldn't be here!" Yes, some of these guys sucked. I agree with you. For reasons I've gone into before, I don't exclude anyone from the contest for moral reasons, even if I personally think they were garbage. I do this because I cannot responsibly research and vet every competitor's background and legacy, and I'm not comfortable being the moral barometer for everyone, even in cases where I think it's really obvious. You are welcome to vote against people for moral reasons, but as mod I don’t post or boost negative propaganda about anyone.

If I see repetitive, trolling, or bigoted remarks in the comments, I will block you from this bracket. If you want to point out a competitor’s problematic aspects in the replies, that’s fine, but if I see bad-faith trolling, you will be blocked. I will also block if you start harassing other people voting on the polls. If you really hate that someone is winning, please post positive propaganda for their opponent instead.

I welcome additional propaganda for the scrungly little guys in reblogs or asks. I boost the best propaganda I see and try to boost equally for everyone. I don't accept propaganda that’s post-1970 or from non-film appearances. When sending your propaganda, please don't send me too many pics or videos at once (I max out at about four per ask.)

The views expressed in the propaganda are not my own. I don’t alter submissions beyond fixing obvious spelling mistakes. I do choose the poll pics, purposely trying to pick the silliest ones possible for this contest; if you think I could do even sillier, send me one I can use instead. If you think a contestant needs more propaganda, send me an ask with some and let me know if you'd like it added to the poll post if they make it to the next round.

“Who won the major hottie tournaments?” Eartha Kitt and Toshiro Mifune are the reigning hotness champions. They are both living it up by the pool in the sunshine, as far from the shadow realm as possible.

“The....the shadow realm?” All hotties who fail to continue in a hotness tournament are sent to the shadow realm, far below the crust of the earth where the sun never shines, a dark and dismal and gloomy place. (Boris Karloff keeps making everyone try his sherry-based guacamole.)

“Was [this famous person] submitted to any of the tournaments?” Try a tag search for them (ie, [#famous person name] in my search bar). If you still haven’t found your hottie, they either did not fit the criteria of working in movies from 1910-1970, weren't convincingly scrungly in their submission, or were not submitted at all.

“My FAQ isn’t on here :(” send me an ask! I love hearing from you guys—just please check these basics first.

Thank you for being here! Enjoy the polls.

Tournament schedule post-hiatus:

Ongoing: Dracula Daily casting polls

Starting September 26th: Scrungly Little Guys contest (gender neutral)

After that: Ultimate Hottie Tournament (top brackets of the hot men & hot women competing together)

TBD: Hottest On-Screen Couples (Astaire and Rogers, Bogie and Bacall, etc)

TBD: Horror Hotties (Frankensteins, Draculas, Brides, etc.)

TBD: Dandy Detectives (Marples, Sherlocks, Nancy Drews, etc.)

fun mini polls that pit sets of characters from the same movie together, like the Philadelphia Story or Seven Brides for Seven Brothers ones (these can be found in the #minis tag)

#housekeeping #scrungly 1 #scrungly little guys #hotvintagepoll

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dripdowndrop · 11 days ago

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The Bimbo Bounce

There’s an implicit understanding around the idea of a bimbo that it is an easy thing to be. A bimbo doesn’t have to worry about very much, certainly not thinking. They are free to bounce, bubbly, brainless, and spend their energy focusing on the more fun things: sex, for instance.

Bounce.

I respectfully disagree. Thoughts can be very pesky things, and ridding yourself of them isn’t always a simple task. Many bimbos subscribe to the philosophy wherein the process of bimbofication involves having their brains removed, their intelligence compromised, their thoughts turned to bubbles to float away into the ether.

Bouncing your body makes your brain bubbly.

Which isn’t to say there’s anything wrong with that, of course. But a bimbo doesn’t necessarily need to be absolutely brainless, nor even to have their intelligence drained at all…and certainly not permanently. Part of the appeal is often in the transient nature of the transformation.

For now, we’ll focus on the brainless sort of bimbo. Perhaps later we can explore the alternatives.

Bimbos bounce their brains away.

After all, there is something to be said for allowing your thoughts to become bubbles, creating that light and airy feeling in your head. It is, I suspect, a little easier to feel like a bimbo when those thought-bubbles begin floating and bouncing around in your head, and especially once they begin to pop.

Brainwashed bimbos must obey.

But what happens when your thought-bubbles are being stubborn, when they don’t behave like the slick and oily bubbles that pop so simply? There are a few options. First, let’s consider another kind of bubble: bubble wrap.

You know what I mean, I’m sure. You’ve felt the enjoyment of popping that plastic packaging to release the air sealed inside. You’ve also found that some bubbles are easier to pop than others – sometimes you can roll the wrap along your fingers and appreciate the sound of so many rhythmic pops, but other times you have to apply some additional pressure before you receive that anticipated reward.

Bubbly brains are bound to burst.

Some of the bubbles can be downright frustrating, I know. The reward for normal bubble wrap is that giggly, somewhat silly, glee; it’s a lot of fun, and downright cathartic. But for your thoughts? The reward is becoming a brainless bimbo, and feeling the combined physical pleasure and mental relief when the thoughts pop and escape, leaving that wet, pink lust behind.

Bursting bubbly brains blow pink.

It’s a very compelling reward, isn’t it? You’d happily apply as much pressure as it takes to pop those thought-bubbles, but perhaps you aren’t quite sure how. There’s a line here about how that might mean you’re already more brainless than you expect, but we’ll skip that for now. Instead, consider the source of the pressure.

Bimbos bounce their brains away,

Brainless bimbos must obey.

Pressure around your thought-bubbles can come from the simple act of bouncing, of course. It can come from my words flowing steadily into your mind, perhaps repeating like an echo that escalates until the pop. In the first case, you’ll simply bounce a little harder; in the second, repeat my words either aloud or in your head to ramp up the pressure. But those aren’t the only methods.

Bubbly brains are bound to burst,

Bursting bubbly brains blow pink.

You see, we can also soften the surface of the thought-bubbles. You want to be a bimbo, after all, or you wouldn’t be here – you certainly wouldn’t have made it this far into a script designed to make you a bimbo. But I expect it’s more than casual want. You find the idea of becoming a brainless obedient bimbo arousing. It turns out that arousal softens bubbles…don’t take my word for it, though, let your focus shift to the intensity of that arousal, and feel the way the resistance inside your thought-bubble changes, as if the pressure is suddenly coming from both sides.

Bimbos bounce their brains away,

Brainwashed bimbos must obey.

Now there are three methods to ramp up the pressure on that stubborn thought-bubble of yours: bounce a bit harder, repeat my words to yourself, and focus on how aroused being bimbofied makes you. The bubble-wrap doesn’t stand a chance, especially when you recall how intensely rewarding that pop is going to be. Raw pink pleasure drenching your suddenly vacant head, freeing you to be the giggly, bouncy, brainless bimbo you want to be.

Bubbly brains are bound to burst,

Bursting bubbly brains blow pink.

Brainwashed bimbos bounce blankly.

Blank brainless bimbos bounce.

As rewarding as the pop will be, wouldn’t it be better to feel that over and over again? Of course it would. There’s a less common method of making bubbles easier to pop that we’ve just unlocked – making a single, large bubble into a bunch of much smaller ones. Even if you’ve already popped the thought-bubble, it’s surprisingly straightforward to imagine any remaining thoughts, brains, or some part of your body covered in bubble wrap.

Bimbos bounce their brains away,

Brainless bimbos must obey.

Bouncing bursts brain-bubbles,

Bursting bubbles blow pink.

Lots of tiny bubbles are much easier to pop, as you know, which means all you’ve got to do is pick your favorite method: bouncing, repeating my words, or feeding your arousal. Then the fun can really begin…you get to bounce, chant the bimbo mantra, or touch yourself, and enjoy the immensely satisfying sensation of all of those pesky thought-bubbles popping in rapid succession.

I’d tell you not to worry about the implications of being bound by bubble wrap, or the inherent silliness of the concept – but we both know you’re already past that, or giggling about it while you obey. So instead, give in to your chosen bubble popping method.

Bounce whichever way you find feels the best, repeat my words again and again, or bring yourself to a bubbly pink bimbo orgasm. Or, perhaps, try every method just to make sure you don’t have any pesky thought-bubbles left by the time you’re finished.

As for the transient – sorry, big word, let’s go with “temporary” – nature of the transformation, I’ll leave that up to you. When you’ve finished popping bubbles for me, you can drift awake with your decidedly un-popped brain functioning normally…or you can “wake” in bimbo mode for awhile, free to be bouncy and bubbly and giggly and horny for a few hours before the effect fully fades.

Bimbos bounce their brains away,

Brainless bimbos must obey.

Bouncing bursts brain-bubbles,

Bursting bubbles blow pink.

Either way, as always, like, reblog and enjoy.

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joocomics · 4 months ago

Note

Xdh catching you riding THEIR pillow

# xdinary heroes + riding their pillow

♡ gunil

he’d find it cute, silly, and he’d make sure you’re aware he doesn’t think you’re doing anything wrong. however, for a moment he’d be like huh? why didn’t you just call me? cause there’s no way this feels even remotely to the pleasure he brings you. he’d stand there intrigued, smirking at the sight of his pillow between your thighs. his shirt would come off presenting you his fit chest as you tell him the reasons you weren’t able to wait for him to arrive home, because he’d have questions for you for sure! and he’d need you to answer them while he lays you down on the bed, eating you out; pleased to see how much more wet you got now that you have his tongue on your clit.

“let me show you proper pleasure, love.”

♡ jungsu

something tells me he and hyeongjun would enjoy the sight of this the most. it’s like some kind of art for them. jungsu would love how sensual and intimate the whole thing is, and he would like to see your needy side - the one that reminds him how much love and lust you have for him. he’d sit close, praising you as you fulfill your needs, making compliments on how you look and move. i think it would make him even weaker at the knees if you’re wearing some kind of a flowy dress, or a tighter one that you’d wear if you’re going out for a drink. the fact you’re about to go out, or, you just came home too horny to continue with your day properly would both amuse him and excite him.

“is this what you do when you miss me?”

♡ jiseok

at first i was like “oh, he’d probably overreact as he always does,” but after i gave it some more thought, he wouldn’t want to make you feel embarrassed. he’d hesitate at the door for a moment unsure of how to approach you, but also - he’d want you to keep going. catching a glimpse of his own pillow underneath you would definitely act as a big ego booster, causing a prideful smirk on his lips. he wouldn’t need to ask you to continue because the instant effects his body and eyes would have from seeing you like this would make you want to tease him even more; to tests him how long he can watch before he breaks and pins you down on the bed. he’d adjust his hardening cock, chuckle and give you instructions in the lines of bounce on it like you bounce on my cock, baby. oh… it’s not the same, huh? he’d be mocking you lovingly for sure.

“come on, don’t get shy now.”

♡ seungmin

he’d regret interrupting you a little, but after you let him know how badly you needed him he’d stay, asking you if it feels good and if you want him to help you out with something. because one thing is for sure - seungmin knows how to give you a hand, and make it feel extra good even when it’s you mainly pleasing yourself. he’d kiss your neck from behind, praise you and tell you how much he missed you too. he might insert a few teasing questions like do you usually get this wet when you hump pillows? fully aware that you’re this much aroused solely because of his presence and touch. he’d be appreciative of how you continued your fun in front of him, and show you how much he enjoyed it by making you cum one more time.

“do you want me to leave? i’d really like to stay though.”

♡ hyeongjun

i see him as a big enjoyer of dry humping. actually, dry humping is one of his main kinks, so catching you rubbing yourself against his pillow not bothering to even remove your underwear would turn him on so much. no matter from which angle he’d observe it happening he’d cherish every second. he’d feel bad bursting into the room in case you left the door open, and he’d feel guilty and stupid for secretly peeking through it, so he’d call out before walking in to prepare you for his appearance, but he’d still tell you that he saw you so it wouldn’t matter. he would need to see more; there’s no way he’d ignore the situation. and as you proceed, he’d sit down comfortably and eventually start jerking off as you get closer to your climax.

“can i watch you? you’re looking pretty.”

♡ jooyeon

he’d be baffled in the best way possible. a wide smile would grow on his face, and an immediate boner in his pants. after hyeongjun, he is the next member that would turn this into a mutual masturbation thing which is a great idea, because you’d stimulate yourself even better by watching him get off to you riding his pillow. depending on his mood and energy, this can go two ways: he’d edge himself as you get closer to your climax, he’d wait for you to start moaning louder and grind quicker, then tell you to stop what you’re doing and take his cock; or he’d cum in his hand from not being able to edge himself long from how turned on he is. he’d encourage you to tell him as much as possible about what you’re feeling as you do it; what made you fuck his pillow and what did you think about before he caught you in the act.

“come here, ride me instead.”

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marticoresims · 2 months ago

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Custom career - Psychologist!

I edited LientebollemeiS2I's Psychologist career, changing nearly everything about it. What stayed are links to uni majors, the icon (which is also a uni major) and some inspiration for chance cards. IMO this career has a strong Maxis vibe, with "start from nothing" first levels, NPC references and silly chance cards.

Each level title has a number added to it, like in this mod.

The 4 skills required for this job are: Logic, Charisma, Cleaning and Creativity.

IMPORTANT EDIT: With LientebollemeiS2I's guidance, I also edited the GUID of the career and changed PTO (paid time off) back to default. Now you can use both our careers at the same time! The GUID is: 0xC6A05A9D. In case you need to check if you have something that uses the same one (it was generated, so might repeat).

DOWNLOAD (SFS)

List of levels with descriptions:

Psychology Books Enjoyer Lvl 1 You'll take any book that has anything to do with the topic of psychology and devour it instantly, hoping this knowledge will be useful some day.

Internet Mental Health Advisor Lvl 2 You dive into web forums to find the most interesting psychological cases and comment on them. Your aspirations are high, but you don't have the skills or degrees yet to become a real therapist. One can dream, though!

Social Bunny Lvl 3 You've actually made it to a real mental health institution, and not as a patient, but as an assistant… sort of. Don't forget to be the fluffiest bunny out there because what you're doing here is really helping other Sims. And all you ever wanted was to help others, right?

Therapist in Training Lvl 4 It's been hard, but you've made it to an actual psychology path. Just stay strong and you'll definitely open your own private practice office one day.

Social Worker Lvl 5 Whether it's leaving children home alone for too long, starving them or not dressing them appropriately to the weather… you'll be there to collect them and find more responsible families for them. It's a tough job, but it's something you have to get through in your training.

Private Counselor Lvl 6 You've finally made it! You're officially a therapist and working in your private office. Now, your mission is to care for your clients in the best way that you can. So don't stop educating yourself!

Psychology Researcher Lvl 7 Your passion for psychology is never-ending. You've decided to take it to the next level and do important research to contribute to the science. Good job!

Personality Specialist Lvl 8 During your research, you've grown very interested in the depths of Sims' personality. What can change it? To what extent is it genetic? What's that thing about werewolves?

Clinical Psychologist Lvl 9 Regular therapy practice and deep research were not quite enough for you. Now it's time to make real diagnoses, assist psychiatrists in their work, and make the world a better place. Keep on learning and you might become the ultimate Therapist.

Therapist NPC Lvl 10 It's time to deal with the real Wretched Outcasts and Doddering Deadbeats. In order to do it, you needed to learn teleportation, hypnosis and partial invisibility. If someone is in crisis, you're the Sim they'll always turn to.

As for clothes and cars (or lack thereof 👀), you'll have to see for yourself in game 😎

DOWNLOAD (SFS)

Hope you like it! I've always wanted a therapist-like career in The Sims 2.

Made with Bidou's Career Editor (now part of SimPE).

#sims 2 cc #sims2 #thesims2 #sims 2 download #sims 2 mods

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kathegoose · 6 months ago

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the compane i think

lineup of every (at least somewhat) biological entity (aside from earth leviathan) in lethal company!!!

again, non-VHS version under cut with some wacko headcanons and allat!

WOOHOO!!!!!!! so here are my extra headcanons and other minor changes because i am allowed to ramble about my art if i want to👍👍 (Those without any HC dumps here are pretty much as they are already, nothing to talk about them!)

Tiny bugs: the locust, bee and wasp are made to faintly resemble their real life counterparts aside from the reused fly model as in the game.

Manticoil: i will get either praised or executed for this but i made the extra wings.... leg wings. like a microraptor. but it does come with a reason, yes! it is practically impossible to evolve a new pair of limbs, it's either remove or change existing parts when it comes to evolution, and the manticoils are just evolved corvids in canon!

Hoarding bug: made to resemble hymenoptera more, as they are - again - canonically in this order of real life animal :]

Spore lizard: back scutes and more toes added to, you guessed it; resemble their earth relatives (in this case alligators) more.

Bunker spider: spider pitter patter feet :D

Thumper: more earth-relative (chondrichthyes) resemblance, especially the mouth is more shark-like.

Baboon hawk: earth thing again and also made the 'wings' the brightest, since i believe they pose no other purpose than social display.

Bracken: i've been WAITING to talk about my brackens' symmetrical, two-thumbed hands. PERFECT (i think?) for grabbing a victim's head to do a little snappin'. also the claws are just on the hands to really make sure they have a firm grip, and not on the padded, almost mitten-like feet for silent sneaking! (even though they are usually quadrupedal)

Eyeless dog: okay fellas but... that's no actual mammal (as we know) i think. the in-game head shape is too ridiculous to have evolved from anything and the class saeptivus doesn't even exist! what i think is a re-evolving of mammals at play, say.. synapsida 2.0 perhaps. so i took creative liberties and made the dog a taaaad bit more fish-like with a line of sensory pits on their sides kinda like a fish's lateral line. suits the blind critter :]

Nutcracker: some little paint job changes and added some hinge doohickeys to accentuate the mechanical properties of the nutcracker itself that the meaty-eye-hermit-thing is operating.

Jester: i am simply here to say that i would like to bite a chunk off of the jester's meat gluppo.

Forest keeper: ok so there is the cool octopus-style beak yeah and i gave it tiiiiny little silly pinky-thumbs as they're probably canonically related to the brackens but MY GOD!!!!!!! I HATED COLOURING THAT THING!!! what colour is it even if I HAD TO FNAF 3 BLAST IT. that's how you know that i didn't like doing it sorry giant enjoyers i didn't enjoy colouring large jonathan (my fan name for them) :[

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aangelinakii · 5 months ago

Note

Hi I saw that your requests were open and I wanted to know if you would be interested in writing a headcanon where Jason's s/o is also a vigilante (they have powers maybe, like Violet Parr's with force field and invisibility); and strangely enough the villains quite like them (in a platonic way) they don't mind reader at all and actually have a type of frenemy thing going on? Wouldn't it be funny if while fighting the villains would just be like "I'll kill you Red hood! You too Batman and... oh hey reader!vigilante name :D how you doing? Have you thought about my invitation to the villains party?!"

If you accept my ask you can make as crack fic as you want, it is a funky prompt so 🤷‍♀️🤷‍♀️ but feel comfortable to decline also 💖

-🎃

TWO FRENEMIES WITH FRIES ON THE SIDE.

— you're alright. him, however...

summary : you're on patrol with your equally as vigilante boyfriend, when you come across some havoc in the night. the two of you need to work together to defeat them. but it's less easy for jason tonight.

before you read : this will be a superrr unserious fic, so if you aren't prepared for some silly stuff to happen, you just aren't on the level of this fic

note : thank you so so much for requesting pumpkin !! or is that a jack o lantern ??? either way, i love your anon emoji, and i thought this request was so funny !! i turned it into a fic instead of headcanons because i had a better idea for it, so i hope it's what you wanted !!! again, thank you for requesting ml <3

second note : sorry it took a few days to write up,, i went through a mini writer's block, but i hope it's enjoyable nonetheless 🫶🫶

when you and jason had left the apartment to go on patrol that evening, neither of you had really been expecting to find the condiment king breaking into a closed mcdonald's to steal their condiments. and of course it had to have been you two to find him.

no one ever wanted to come across the condiment king. you're probably sitting here assuming it's because of how indubitably evil he is, and how his plans always invoke terror into the streets of gotham; the reason no one wants to find him is because it will make the night a lot of work in terms of saving the city.

well, you're wrong. sure, he made the night far harder than it needed to, by squirting ketchup and mayo all over your patrol gear.

one, it made you stink for the rest of patrol – and when you're out looking after the city, you can't exactly go home and change. two, it's incredibly difficult to get out of clothes, for the condiment king had chemically altered his condiments of attack to thicken when oxidising; it's like trying to get sticky tapioca out of a metal sift.

he'd spotted jason first, who'd jumped down from the shadows to apprehend him. after all, the condiment king had only just bust the door open; he was quite a poor excuse for one of gotham's villains.

there was joker, penguin, two-face... for batman's case, he'd encountered space villains, which seem a lot scarier due to their near-invincible powers.

but you two had been stuck with the condiment king.

"AH!" he screamed, jumping back at the sight of the taller male, scrambling for his tubes and fire-guns. "you shouldn't be here!"

"me?" jason gravelled from beneath his red helmet, his head tilting and white eyes glowing menacingly. "i think we both have two very different ideas about that."

without warning, red and yellow squirted all over jason's front, causing him to step back in surprise, groaning at the growing stench.

before him, the condiment king yelped as his condiment guns were kicked from his grasp, as you sprung from the shadows.

"no can do, buddy," you breathed, watching his guns scatter to the ground, the tubes attached to their bottoms popping as they ripped from the bottles. "besides, haven't you heard about the boycott? why not use taco bell nacho cheese?"

the condiment king gasped, stepping back as you arrived, though his worry ceased quickly as he registered the sight of you. "oh, (name)! didn't realise you were out tonight."

"didn't realise you were, either, buddy."

you moved to stand behind him, taking his wrists and pinning them against his back, slapping a pair of cuffs against the skin. "but you understand why i have to do this, right?"

with a sigh, the condiment king nodded, his stature weakening. "yeah, i suppose so... hey, did you ever receive my invitation?"

"invitation?" the red hood repeated wearily, hands still avoiding his messy now-orange chest.

"uh.. i did, yeah," you chuckled as you tightened the handcuffs around his wrists. "i'll have to see if you can make it, yeah? find someone to bail you out if you can."

"invitation?" jason repeated once more. "what invitation?"

with a smile, the condiment king looked up at the red hood, completely disregarding the sauce he'd messed his clothes up with. "it's my birthday in a few weeks. i invited (name) and some other people, no big deal."

from behind his mask, jason looked over at you, and you could practically feel his quizzical glare on you. "you were invited to this nutter's birthday party?"

nonchalant as ever, you gave a nod, accompanying it with a half-shrug. "yeah, i'd ask to invite you, but something tells me you wouldn't be too wanted there."

#aangelinakii #dc #dc comics #dc reactions #dc imagines #dc headcanons #dc universe #jason todd #jason todd x reader #jason todd reactions #jason todd imagines #jason todd headcanons #crack!fic #ask and you shall receive !

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sociopathicartist · 1 month ago

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This was 100% indulgent by me and not requested (which is why it came out off schedule lol). I know I usually write for classic Sans, but along with Horrortale, Dreamtale is and always has been one of my favorite AUs, so I wanted to write something for Nightmare. Hope you guys enjoy this unexpected work :3

DREAMTALE - Nightmare Romantic Headcanons (indulgent with you as his lover)

Dreamtale is an extremely complex story with extremely complex characters that I have been figuring out for the past several years, trying to get my hands on the most canonical information about Dream and Nightmare and the story itself, especially with how muddled their characters have become within the fandom. If you like the stories where Nightmare is soft and cooing and Dream is a bully and is toxic, then this probably won't be an enjoyable read, but as all of my followers know, I always try my best to stick to how the characters canonically act. I could ramble on and on about this AU in particular and about how misunderstood both Dream and Nightmare are, but that’s something I’d only do if my opinions on it were requested since it would be an extremely long ramble.

The background for these headcanons can be whatever you wish, but just know that behind these it’s implied that you’re being forced to stay with Nightmare (you’re a bit silly like me if you’d ever willingly stay with him.)

DATES / ROMANCE

- While I do love the romantic aspects that Nightmare himself can be implied to have, I mean the setup is perfect for romance (beautiful dark castle, dark, brooding character, etc), I just don’t see him wasting his time being romantic.

- The exception is that he is a manipulator, and will do/say things that don’t seem in character at all for him so that he can win you over and make you believe that somewhere in there he is good and that he can change (it’s never gonna happen, baby), but I don’t see him doing these things without ulterior motives.

- Maybe he’s noticed that you don’t seem to be as keen on him as you usually would be, that his unloving and harsh personality is beginning to take a toll on you and you’re no longer seeking him out as much as you used to, so what better to do than make you think that he, you know, cares?

- Anytime he takes you out on a date to cozy you back up to his side and make you think he cares about you, it’s always with the intention of keeping you on the borderline of hating him and being obsessed with wanting his affection and love.

- Now, that doesn’t mean that the dates aren’t romantic or that they’re horrible dates. Just because I don’t think he’s romantic himself (he’s too selfish IMO) doesn’t mean that he doesn’t know how to do romantic things. After all, if the dates he took you on sucked then you probably wouldn’t fall for him again like you always do.

- Sometimes when he’s hurt your feelings after he threw something at you, or you both got into an argument (good luck), he’ll do something easier, something lower effort to get you out of your bedroom and stop ignoring him and his servants like you have for the past several hours.

- Coffee shops are something he’s learned you like, and of course, there are selfish reasons to it, because he’d be a liar if he said he didn’t love coffee. Cafes and Library dates are almost always his go-to whenever you’re so upset with him that you shut him out completely and lock yourself away in your room. While he doesn’t enjoy said dates very much (he’s fonder of reading new books and coffee, that’s it), he has to do them so that you’ll finally warm up to him again. How else can he keep tearing you down if you’re just always at your lowest? It would make you emotionally numb at some point.

- He did take you to FluffyTale once to where CCINO Sans works (you had no clue what was going on, and when you saw the look on CCINO’s face when he saw Nightmare, you knew it was nothing good). Why he did do that? Not sure. But it happened.

- For more extreme cases where he’s hurt you in a flash of anger (surprisingly he doesn’t do that too much to you, he may be annoyed 24/7 and may be a bitch but he does have good control over his emotions and the backlash for hurting you physically isn’t worth it with the recovery in his opinion), he does more caring things to get you to believe that he’s finally changed, even if just a bit, and that it’s not going to happen again.

- Of course, he doesn’t tell you that he’s sorry, and he doesn’t tell you that he won’t hurt you again. Nightmare never lies, only conceals the truth (canon btw), so you won’t hear mele promises from him. It’s exactly why he has to put more effort into actions sometimes.

- In the extreme case where he has physically hurt you, whether he slammed you against a wall or knocked you down to the ground, he does give you time to gather yourself in your room until you’re ready to come out, unlike how he pesters you when you both just argue. Not only does letting you waller in your self-pity for hours benefit him and his love for feeding off of your negative emotions, but it does give you time to think and calm down, which he needs you to do for him to be able to worm his way back into your mind.

- After being locked away for hours and examining any bruises you got from him when you’re finally ready to come out and find him, he’s gotten you roses (one of the only flowers he doesn’t hate, it matches the aesthetic with his castle.) and has set up a nice dinner with your favorite food, letting you indulge in the rarer evenings that are so nice that they almost let you forget about all of the tears you cried and all of the lingering pain he put you through.

SLOW DAYS

- Nightmare is someone extremely difficult to just relax with and bond with.

- HOWEVER

- His canon personality is not all ‘grrr i hate you grr im gonna beat the shit out of you and kill everyone you love’ because while he does have his moments, don’t think I’m saying he doesn’t, he just isn’t horrible 100% of the time.

- We know for a fact (sourced by Q&A’s and comics from JOKU) that Nightmare does have indulgent hobbies that PassiveNightmare used to have, like how he reads sometimes, and just also sourced from the same things, he isn’t angry a lot of the time. Or… He doesn’t show it. He’s manipulative, he’s extremely smart, and while he is annoyed almost all of the time, it’s not beneficial to his manipulative behaviors to show that 24/7.

- Plus, just because he’s annoyed doesn’t mean the man can’t sit there and relax with a good-ass book and some coffee.

- For whatever reason he’s keeping you locked up in the castle with him (I’m basing the reason off my a03 book with Nightmare, solely because I don't see why else he would bother keeping someone), as long as you don’t sit there and purposefully annoy him as Killer does, he doesn’t care if you want to sit in the same room as him.

- He’s described in books as busy all the time, and granted, I do love love love the idea of Nightmare being all hot doing paperwork at his desk and shit like that, but it just doesn’t make much sense to me. Like… He spreads negativity throughout universes and RARELY ever kills people, is he having to do paperwork over their hurt feelings or something?? This is no diss to those books because I love the concept of it and mmmmmm do I love an overworked Nightmare, but the idea when put into logical retrospect just doesn’t make much sense in my opinion.

- Therefore, since he’s literally been lounging around doing god knows what for 500+ years, I can see him having some boring and uneventful days in the castle.

- Since now you’re in the castle with him, it’s a bit easier to help pass the time with his ‘lover’ (he hates that word since he doesn’t and CANT love and hates any boyfriend/girlfriend label, it makes him feel too humane and in touch).

- You might just wake up and look for him after being served breakfast in your room like always, finding out that he’s in the castle today from one of his servants, and it’s always a straight shot guess of where he is.

- He doesn’t spend too much time in his bedroom. It’s a place that he only associates with sleep and changing clothes, and since he doesn’t need sleep to live, he just never really goes in there. You most likely won’t find him lurking in his bedroom at all.

- But the next best place where you can always find him is in his study or the library. Whenever he has the free time, you can’t recall seeing him without some sort of book in his hand. Sometimes he breaks free of the old habit and decides to write or drink some coffee while watching the rain pour down outside through his study window, but that isn’t as often.

- Surprisingly, he doesn’t typically turn down your company. Perhaps it’s for his selfish entertainment, or maybe he just finds you intriguing to talk to (I’d hope he did after going through the effort to kidnap you and keep you kidnapped), but if he notices you strolling into his study, still in your pajamas and sleepy from just waking up, he simply just has one of the servants outside the study room bring you some coffee or tea to drink while you sit down next to him to see what he’s reading.

BONDING / CONVERSATIONS

- In no means am I saying that Nightmare isn’t abusive, he is and would be in any sort of relationship (we see this firsthand with him and Ccino sans.), but he’s not too estranged to just conversate with.

- Usually, lazy days when he’s just staying in the castle and isn’t in a completely horrible and stressed mood are the days where you can talk with him best, like normal people.

- Sometimes he’ll tell you about the book he’s reading, and go into a long explanation about the entire story and plot without any pauses or breaks, just talking mindlessly to pass the time.

- Other times he tells you about the missions he’s planning on doing or has done, which he only tells you about because unless you’re on a date together, you never leave the castle. And even when on dates, you’re always stuck by his side and under his constant supervision, so there’s never any chance for you to blabber to anyone about what he tells you or for you to run.

- It was a huge shock to you at first with how conservative he can be, and how he can just talk and also listen in a normal, back-and-forth conversation, sometimes about absolutely nothing. You’d just never expect it from him, but even though he does not care about or love you by any means (just like how it is impossible for Dream to hate, it’s also impossible for Nightmare to love), if he’s kidnapped you in the castle to keep you as a romantic partner for some reason, he has some level of interest or obsession with you, so he’s more keen to just talking like normal with you compared to talking to other people, like Killer for one.

- As for bonding, most of your bonding is just during already discussed and elaborated lazy days around the castle or dates that only happened because he hurt you and needs you to warm up to him again. While you can fall in love and be as cooing to him as you’d like, Nightmare doesn’t experience the bonding you do since he doesn’t feel love. He views quality time as a way to learn more about his fixation on you.

LIVING IN THE CASTLE

(last one for now!! i could just KEEEEP writing about this, but i wanna save it for other headcanons with him in the future.)

- You live a pretty lavish life in the castle, I’m ngl.

- I’ve said it SOSOSO many times, and I’m gonna say it again, Nightmare is extremely manipulative. Thus, he allows your every need in the castle to be taken care of and makes sure that your bedroom is just the way you like it, and that you have anything you could want there.

- Having you be so comfortable in the castle and enjoy your life there makes it indefinitely easier for Nightmare to tear your little heart into pieces. It’s so easy to do when your upset mood is constantly distracted by how good of a life you have there (mostly, save for Nightmare being a bitch) and it just makes it easier for him to hurt your feelings and feed off your negative emotions.

- To elaborate, if you lived a horrible life in the castle and he kept you locked away in some dungeon cell without any freedom to roam the castle, kept you in the same clothes you showed up in, and only gave you water and bread crusts for dinner, it would be very difficult to prevent you from going emotionally numb.

- There’s only so much distress one can take before shutting down, and if he wants to keep hurting you over and over again, it would be very hard to do so when you’re always at your lowest due to your living conditions in the castle.

- Having you live a lavish life with all the physical comforts (except his LMFAO) you could want keeps your mood boosted easier, and allows you to recover quicker from his emotional abuse. When you easily go back to being happy and forgiving him due to your luxury of being able to take walks in the garden by yourself, take a hot bath, and drink some nice tea, it only makes it to where he has to do less work to manipulate your emotions. He can do all of the cheering up indirectly (other than taking you out on dates when he’s super super mean to you) and just let himself indulge in the privilege of hurting you again.

- So, yeah. When it comes to living in the castle you’re pretty much set up for life, living like basically royalty. The only difficult part that always tears you down to earth is whenever Nightmare decides to mess you up again.

There's my short ramble!

I said short, this was a long headcanon list, but it’s short to me when I compare it with how much more I could have written. I’m on a dreamtale crave right now since it has been one of my favorite au’s for a long time, and writing my a03 book with nightmare and dream has sparked the writing love for it again, so if anyone wants any requests for dream and nightmare I will take those up asap along with my others!

Thanks for reading!!

NIGHTMARE AND DREAMTALE BELONG TO JOKUBLOG!!

#undertale #undertale au #undertale alternate universe #sans #sans undertale #sans x reader #sans x you #sans headcanons #nightmare sans #nightmare sans x reader #dreamtale

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stjohnstarling · 3 months ago

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Hello! Love 'What Manner of Man'! It inspired me to make my own vintage gay story myself!

But I'm having an issue with outlining, since outlining a novel feels more close-ended than a longer-form serial novel is.

Do you have any advice? Or resources, etc?

So you have no way of knowing this, but I am actually obsessed with story structure. It’s maybe the part of storytelling I’ve spent the most time consciously working with, so sorry in advance because I’m about to go on a dubiously helpful monologue. It’s a bit tricky for me to answer about resources, since the things I used when I was learning have been lost to the sands of time. That being said I have a couple pieces of advice:

If you don’t know what you’re doing, don’t be afraid to find a template. I wish I could link you a good one but I don’t have any on hand. When I was first learning to write novels, I actually found a few different standard novel structure templates and used them to outline a bunch of novels I never intended to write, as practice. Bad and silly ones that were just fun to play with, where there was no pressure to write anything I’d ever want anyone to see. My background is in music, so my instinct when I don’t know how to do something is to isolate that element and practice it on its own, and it’s never steered me wrong.*

But more than that - what you’re feeling as closed-ended is that you’re trying to write a story with structure, as opposed to one that is mostly improvised. I remember feeling this too, when I first started exploring writing novels, but this is one of those cases where limitations are actually what gives you freedom.

Structure is part of the artistry of storytelling - just like poetry has forms like sonnets and sestinas, and songs have verses, bridges, and choruses. You know intuitively the structure of a pop song, and that heightens the pleasure of listening to one as you anticipate the build up to the chorus. Stories are like this too. The structure is an important part of the audience’s enjoyment of the final piece, whether they know it or not.

I’ll give an example. Season one of AMC’s The Terror is a piece of fiction that is structured with some serious artistry, above and beyond just good craftsmanship, its structure is a crucial part of how it creates meaning. As a result a lot of what its fans do is analyze it for parallels in its storytelling. I don’t think many of them would articulate what they enjoy about it as “this is a well structured story,” but the structure is actually one of the main things the fandom engages with.

More than any writing resource, the best way to learn is to study and analyze stories you admire - why things are put in a certain order and why events fall at the points in the story that they do. When are you anticipating, when are you experiencing catharsis, where in the story do those things happen? Explore widely! You don’t have to limit yourself to novels! Movies are great for getting a basic understanding of how you can structure a story because the time and space requirements they’re subject to mean movies tend to be very rigidly structured. There’s no time to mess around like there is in long forms of fiction like novels.

I encourage you to embrace structure as a part of the art and a potential tool for expression and beauty! I can’t tell you how rewarding it is.

*I am aware that this advice does not work for a lot of people, so if it doesn’t work for you that is also perfectly fine! Everyone is different.

#original post #asks #Sorry this is so fuckin long lol this is a huge topic #long post

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pagesoflauren · 1 month ago

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Calamitous Love Chronicles: Delicate Beginning Rush (3/4)

Premise: Steve Rogers blows into town in search of some estranged family. As he settles into civilian life, he realizes leaving work is hard and perhaps the world will never stop needing him.

Warnings: depictions of PTSD, mentions of abandonment by a romantic partner, complex familial dynamics, sexual content.

Thank you to @hyperfixationhovel. And if you're still around, thank you for being here as I find myself again. Also, my blog needs a huge refresh, so please bear with me while I find time to do it!!!

Main Masterlist

You’ve seen Steve one-on-one both inside and outside of work throughout the last month.

He comes to play with the animals, preparing to adopt one and bonding with each one to find the one that connects with him the most. At first, you thought he and Major would be a perfect match. German Shepherds are intelligent, able to follow commands well and they look like a suitable pair. However, the canine is still on the aloof side, and you’ve realized that Steve needs a dog with a kinder demeanor.

The smaller dogs are a little too intimidated by him. Despite playing, they can’t quite keep up with his wide strides as he joins you for daily walks and playtime is underlined with aggression as the little dogs try to assert some semblance of dominance over him.

Cats are even more withdrawn, not complimenting Steve’s need for a softer, sociable companion. You laughed as he attempted to engage with them using various feathered toys and a laser pointer and failed in nearly every attempt.

“She likes you,” you remark as he sits on the floor with Willow, smiling as the golden retriever pup playfully nips at his palm.

“I think I like her too,” he agrees with a nod.

The clock beeps on cue, earning some whines and howls from the animals as the work day comes to a close. You begin to cover the carriers and get everyone settled for the night. As you turn to look at the puppies, Steve is putting Willow in her kennel and giving her a few more pets before shutting the door.

You finish closing up, setting the alarm and locking up the shelter.

“Can I join you for dinner tonight?” Steve wonders, feet tacked onto the sidewalk next to the front door.

Smiling, you nod.

- - -

Seated by the window in the diner, you place an order with the waitress before she clears away the menus. Steve is people watching on the street and you hate to disturb his peace, but the question is gnawing at you.

“I wanted to ask you something.”

His head twists quickly to look at you, eyes attentive as he gestures for you to proceed with your question.

“Is this…” The beginning of the question begins to sound silly in your mind. It’s so high school, but you have to know. “Are we on a date?”

You bite your lip, waiting as he purses his lips in thought.

“Would it be bad if this was a date?”

“No,” you answer, probably a little too quickly. You stumble over your words as you try to recover from your eager response. It’s always been a pitfall of your personality; you can’t keep your ideas in for the life of you and they come out so impulsively. It’s why you decided to work with animals, unlike your sister. If you had her job, the kids at the preschool would know your business, then their parents and the entirety of Barber, for that matter.

Your nerves show as you rip the wrapper of your straw to miniscule pieces, even more humiliated as you fail completely at saving face.

Well, I’ve bungled another one.

Your forwardness hasn’t paid off in the past, men would often head for the hills once hearing you expressed any thought that what you felt with them was more than a mere enjoyment of their company. The moment you told them you liked them or, in this case, called an outing a “date”, it was game over.

Your wrapper is smithereens on the table, your proverbial white flag as you prepare yourself to be let down “easy” yet again. You don’t meet his eyes; you can’t bear another look of uncomfortable sympathy as another man rejects you.

As your hands begin to retract into your lap, Steve catches them in one of his.

“I’m sorry I didn’t get you flowers before taking you to dinner.”

Blinking in disbelief and confusion, you tilt your head up to meet his gaze.

“What?”

“It’s a date,” he laughs. “I should’ve bought you flowers. Actually, I’m overdue for flowers. Our first date was the picnic in the park.”

“Oh, that doesn’t have to be a ‘date’...” you begin.

His fingers loosen around yours. “Do you not want to count that?”

No, no, you panic, gripping him tighter. “No,” you shake your head. When you detect the disappointment in his face, you begin to backpedal, “No, I mean, I don’t not want to call that a date. We can call it a date, our first one, if you want.” You take in his face again, not finding anything. “Or…we don’t have to.”

“Okay, how about this,” he laughs, bringing his other hand up. He laces your fingers together, palms warm against yours. “This is our first date. And I’ll bring you flowers in the morning.”

With how much your brain likes to think, you try to go through the catalog of time you’ve spent with him. An errand here, a dog walk there, a dog bath here, and the picnic. You try to think which of those encounters you started wanting to see him day after day after day until the end of days.

Truth is, it was the moment he walked into the shelter the first time.

Squeezing your fingers, you add your voice to your silent affirmation.

- - - - -

“Would you like to come in?” you ask, “This is a date, after all.”

Lump in his throat, Steve has trouble finding his voice. He nods and places his hand on the small of your back as you go up the stairs.

The space is small but the open, shared area between the kitchen and living space removes any feelings of claustrophobia.

There’s a kitchen table with two chairs. He can see which one you use by the faded spot where you’ve gripped the top of it to pull it out. It faces the front window; fitting for you to want to take in the sunshine before getting started with your day.

The living space has a small bookshelf with sets of novels, along with some trinkets and photos. Under the TV in the stand is a basket full of crochet supplies, a half-finished fluffy blanket spilling out of the top. He figures it’s for the animals downstairs in preparation for the winter.

“Do you want some wine?” you offer. “Or if you’re in a crazy mood, I have some vodka.”

“Damn,” Steve laughs. “I’m good for now.”

“Okay,” you say, grabbing two drinking glasses. You take out your pitcher from the fridge and begin to pour water in both of them. “Water’s important, though.”

“That’s true.”

You hand one glass to him before leading him to the couch, turning on the TV. There’s a rerun of a late night sitcom playing, so you lower the volume and get comfy.

“What do you like to watch?”

“Last time I watched TV, I was into Beevis & Butt-Head.”

“Ew,” your face grimaces at weird, gross teenage-boy humor. “Sorry. Not that I was much better. One Tree Hill was my entire personality in high school.”

“What’s that?”

Steve watches in amusement as your head turns to look at him faster than a .22 caliber bullet. “You don’t know?”

He shakes his head. “I have a feeling I’m about to find out.”

And you’re off, spewing names and descriptions in every direction and he’s taking it all in like a mission log. His mind conjures up a relation chart, connecting the two main male leads as half brothers and their respective friends and love interests.

“It’s so high school drama, but I couldn’t get enough of it.”

“Can we watch an episode?”

His heart leaps when your eyes light up.

- - -

With three episodes of One Tree Hill watched, you pause the show.

“Interesting so far,” Steve remarks, though you notice his face is expressionless, the fronts of his eyes glistening with a slight glaze.

“You don’t have to watch it anymore if you don’t want to.”

“Thank you,” he laughs. “I did mean that, it was interesting. It’s just…”

“So high school?”

“Yep.”

“That’s fair,” you say, stretching. As your muscles relax, you recline against the back of the couch. Feeling eyes on you, you look up at Steve.

He’s looking at you oddly; you can’t figure out what he’s thinking or what he wants.

“Ste–?”

You don’t get to finish, not when he takes your face in his hands and kisses you feverishly.

Oh, that’s why he was looking at me…

You can’t recall if anyone has ever kissed you this way, something that seems to put your body on autopilot as you lay back across the cushions with him settling on top of you, pressing his weight onto your body while his hands begin to wander down your sides.

It’s dizzying, overwhelming as he reaches for the hem of your shirt. Your hands find the front of his chest, pressing against him to get his attention, but not enough to push him away.

“I need to slow down,” you speak up.

“Sorry,” he pants. “It’s been…not that I’m eager to only do this, but…” He trails off, looking away from you to find the right words. “I can’t remember the last time I felt this way about someone.”

“Me too,” you say. “The last time I dated someone was a long time ago. Just been me and the animals since then.”

The two of you share a laugh at your shared dry spells. Around you, the air buzzes with the eager electricity of desire.

You swallow your nerves and muster the courage to ask if he thinks the two of you would be more comfortable in the bedroom. He doesn’t answer, but instead gets up from his position above you before holding out his hand.

Standing with him, you place your hand in his, accepting his kiss when he leans in for another one.

With a little tug, you take him to the little corridor past the bathroom and the washer and dryer and lead him into the bedroom. You let go of his hand to turn on your bedside lamp. There’s no need to turn back and look at him when his hands come around your waist and pull your body close to his. His face finds the crook of your neck, lips pressing kisses there that ignite your body.

His hands begin to wander, cupping your chest and gliding down your front to pin your hip back to keep you flush against him.

Your lungs struggle, body overstimulated with all the contact against your back while your front screams for more. The clothing begins to feel stifling and you yank his hands off of you to take your shirt off to discard it on the floor. Turning to face Steve again, he’s acting before you can.

He grips your hips again, falling back onto your mattress heavily and taking you with him. His hands guide you to straddle his hips, your groin positioned just above the growing tent in his pants.

You feel one hand trailing up your back as he begins to undo the clasp of your bra. As he busies himself with that, you begin to pull at the hem of his shirt, bringing it up until he has to pause his act to take it off all the way. Tossing the shirt to the floor, you reach up with your other hand and unhook your bra all the way.

“I had a handle on it,” Steve jokes, sitting up and burying his face between your breasts.

He takes your nipple between his lips, suckling and wiping your brain of any witty comebacks so you settle for an, “Mhm.” You try to add a tone of sarcasm, but it’s hard to know how it came out as your head spins.

Your hands find their way into his hair, gripping the short strands between your fingers as much as you can as you begin to grind your hips against him.

The world spins as he flips you onto your back, your knees still around his waist until he stands back and unbuttons his pants. You follow his lead, reaching down and popping the button. Before you can shimmy out of the waistband, your hands are swatted away and replaced with his.

Thumbs hooking into the sides of your underwear, those are removed too, leaving you bare in front of him. His eyes are fiery when he meets yours, holding your gaze and waiting for any sign to stop. Hands on your knees, he spreads your legs and exposes your center. His eyes catch the shine of arousal in the soft light from your lamp, mouth watering in anticipation.

Lowering himself to his knees, he pulls you slightly closer to the edge of the bed, the perfect spot for him to lean forward and press his tongue between your lower lips.

It draws a gasp from you, then a sound of pure arousal as he pleases you. A hand drifts up again, stimulating your breast with tugs and flicks at your nipples. The hunger behind his mouth and desperation from his hand goes straight to your head. He works you to the end and through it, sending you flying over the edge and keeping you floating until he’s satisfied.

He stands over you, boxers off and stroking his length as he pushes you to the middle of the bed. His eyes don’t leave yours as he grabs a pillow to stuff beneath your hips and brings your knees around your hips.

When he slides in, it’s an easy glide and the both of you have to take a moment to process the sensation. He fills you up, giving a delicious pain that makes your thighs quiver. You grip his cock so tightly, soft around him that his toes curl in bliss.

“You okay?” he checks.

“Yes,” you respond. He’s concerned at how choked you sound.

“You sure?”

“Yes, I just…” you exhale, “I need you.”

He obliges, withdrawing his hips and propelling them forward. He finds a rhythm, building up a steady, satisfying pattern that has you holding him tighter and crying out for him in desperation. It spurs him on further when you begin begging; you don’t need to, he’s so willing to give you everything you need.

A string of expletives falls out of your mouth and he delivers a series of steady, forceful thrusts, resisting the loss of stamina as he finds himself finishing sooner than anticipated. He leans forward and keeps up, sucking at the skin of your neck and toying with your nipples again. When your hands fly to the comforter and your body tenses beneath his, he reaches down to stroke your clit and carry out your orgasm as long as you can bear it.

When you shrink away from him, he slows down and eventually stops, fingers grazing over the outside of your thigh as his lips find your cheek.

“You okay?” he mumbles against your skin.

“Mmm,” you hum in acknowledgement.

He flips you over again, nestling you into his side so that he can keep you close as you both navigate the fog of post-coital bliss.

- - - - -

You stumble into the living area using your fingers to undo a knot in your hair. You can smell toast and eggs, along with coffee. On your dining table is a bouquet of fresh flowers.

Steve is dressed, transferring the eggs from the frying pan to one of two plates.

“I hoped you wouldn’t be awake yet,” he says when he sees you. “Wanted to give you breakfast in bed.”

“It’s okay,” you wave him off, “I don’t like getting crumbs in my bed.”

“Fair enough,” he shrugs. “The couch then?”

He brings the plates while you bring the coffee. The first few minutes are silent but not awkward. Just enjoyment of each other’s company as you start the day after spending the night together.

“I was thinking,” Steve says, “I think Willow would be a really great dog to adopt.”

You finish chewing your bite of toast before bumping his shoulder. “If you just wanted to adopt the dog, you didn’t have to do this whole ruse of taking me on a date and sleeping with me.”

You’re pulled into his lap and smothered with kisses as the two of you laugh.

– - - - -

Steve splits his time between your place and the cabin. He doesn’t like leaving the family he semi-uprooted by his arrival, but the cabin also wasn’t puppy-proofed yet. Willow lived with you as Ari made sure everything was dog-friendly and dog-conscious. That included padding around the family furnishings and banisters that he spent precious time restoring. It would be removed when Willow was no longer teething.

Being in less than three months with you awoke the part of him that he had hidden away. He was safe enough to share about himself and he did it so easily around you. Anyone else needed to build his trust, but as long as you would have him, he was yours.

He holds you tighter as he gets pulled from sleep, hearing pinging from a device on the other side of the room.

Wait. He knows that sound.

Eyes opening, he slowly unwraps his arms from around you to avoid disturbing you. He steps lightly as he rises from the bed and finds his pants, reaching into the front pocket to pull out the pager he keeps on him.

Walking to the window, he angles the device so the screen catches the moonlight and he can see the letters scrolling across.

MISSION GOING SOUTH. BACKUP NEEDED.

His heart drops. They wouldn’t page him if they didn’t need him. He knows Bucky wouldn’t allow it. He can only imagine what the team is going through right now, how desperate they must be in order to page a teammate that was discharged because the missions consumed him.

He looks at you, still fast asleep in the bed, then back at the pager as the message plays again.

Putting his legs through his pants, he hesitates before replying.

En route. Send coordinates.

Steve finds his shirt and puts it on. He opens the drawer in your bedside table and pulls out a notepad and pen.

I’m sorry but I have to go. Take care of Willow until I come back.

He peels the note off the pad and folds it before writing your name on it. After propping it against the base of your lamp, he stops and takes in the image of you asleep.

He could just undress and get back under the covers. He wants to. He wants to pretend he never heard the pager and just go on the way he has with you for the past two months. But if he did, he wouldn’t sleep a wink knowing he left his team to suffer, or worse.

Leaning down, he presses a kiss into your forehead, closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. He’s a soldier.

As he leaves, he ignores the tugging in his chest, stretching like elastic that’s ready to snap and bring him back to you at any moment. Down the street, back to the cabin, he boxes up the memories of you and locks them away.

------

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