#I didn't talk about the talk segment much sorry!

[queers-gambit]

Curiosity Killed The Cat

prompt: after rescuing you from kidnappers, you overhear your boyfriend-turned-savior complain about how clingy you've become.

pairing: Mafia!Bucky Barnes x female!reader

fandom masterlist: Marvel

collection masterlist: Clingy Baby

word count: 5.1k+

note: author wants things out of her drafts! also don't take this fic too seriously, it's not much at all - just me writing for the fuck of it until i'm ready to focus on my bigger projects.

warnings: modern AU, Mafia AU, obvious cursing, small hurt and comfort, brief depiction of physical violence and self-destruction in the form of: loss of appetite, lack of sleep, other symptoms of depression. NOT edited! author is ashamed because she knows she can give you something better but oh well.

Your feet planted, jarring you to a halt the moment you heard your name in a conversation you were not apart of.

You heard the hammering of your heart, echoing beats of your blood pumping with harrowing desperation. Hands turned cold and clammy, sweat breaking out on your brow and then freezing, feeling as if your throat had swollen to a new restriction and you were anchored in you in place.

Rooted.

But for now, all you could identify was the paralyzing anxiety that anchored you to your spot and made your heartbeat thunder in your ears. You stood outside the lounge, unable to comprehend relevant thought; still listening to low, docile tones continue their conversation, but you couldn't hear real words.

You were stunned. Panicked, confused, hurt - so very hurt. That seemed to register, too; you were really, really hurt.

This was perhaps why curiosity killed the cat.

You reprimanded yourself for listening in - transporting back to childhood during all the times your parents would scold you for eavesdropping. You knew it was wrong, you knew this was a private conversation meant to be shared between trusting confidants, but you couldn't help it - you heard your name and stopped. It was natural, right? To feel curious regarding a conversation seemingly about you that you, yourself, was not apart of?

Curiosity, indeed.

Blinking rapidly, you remembered the only other time you felt such mounting, pressurized fear, and while it might be dramatic, the only other time you could remember this level of anxiety was from about two months ago...

"Yes, baby, I got the bacon."

"And the jalapeños?"

"Uh-huh, the biggest they had."

"Cream cheese?"

"Do you know who you're talking to?" You laughed into the phone. "I'm a professional housewife by now, you can relax. I got all you needed for your fancy little dinner experiment."

Bucky laughed down the phone, "Oh, please, like I didn't see you salivating when we watched the segment on Top Chef."

"Hush," you laughed, too. "I'm leaving the store now," you told him, pushing out of the heavy glass doors, "and should be home in, like, 10 minutes?"

"Lemme pick you up."

"I have legs to walk with, so, no thank you."

He sighed, "Well, I'll open the wine to let it breathe. Red's still good?"

"Let's do a white tonight, please."

"Good deal," he mused softly. "Hey, I was thinking earlier - "

"Hang on," you pleaded.

"What's wrong?"

"No, nothing. There's just a van slowing down, I don't want to get hit," you chuckled some, looking up and down the street before crossing. "Sorry, so, what were you thinking?"

"We haven't been to Paris in months."

You smirked, "I'm sure our plants in the apartment are dead by now."

Bucky laughed, "Oh, I am, too. But, look, how 'bout it, Peach? You, me, all the croissants we can consume this weekend. I'll take Monday and Tuesday off, we can leave tomorrow night."

"Oh, that sounds nice," you moaned. "Paris in the spring? Baby, that's so dreamy!"

"So, is that a yes?"

"It's a hell yes," you grinned. "Do you know the weather?"

"Supposed to be nice and sunny, not too warm or cold. Figured this would be ideal," he chuckled. "But does the weather matter if we're in bed the whole time?"

"No, we're not wasting our time!" You laughed. "We're gonna go do shit, okay? Stereotypical tourist-couple shit."

"I'll bring the camera."

"And I was hoping we could have dinner at that little place we love?"

"I wouldn't take you anywhere else," he mused.

"I think it's - FUCK!" Bucky froze when he heard the screeching of tires; a van coming up to a skidding halt, flurry of voices all yelling but he heard yours clearly. "No, no, no, hey, hey, what the hell's happening? Hey! What's this - hey, hey! Don't touch me! Ow, shit! No! Hey! Fuck's sake - oh, my God! Ow! Hey!"

"Baby!? Peach! Hey! The fuck's going on!?"

There was a thudding over the phone, and Bucky listened to more struggling - more fidgeting and fighting - and then the slamming of a car door. Still calling your name, Bucky heard a scrape over the line before a different voice answered your phone, "James Barnes. On behalf of HYDRA, you're overdue on your payment and we warned you there would be consequences. Deliver the full amount of 17 million - "

"It's 15," he growled.

"Two million more for the inconvenience of stalking your woman."

"If you even so much as touch her, I swear to God - "

"17 million at midnight, at the pier, or every minute you're late, she'll receive the brunt end of our frustration."

"Don't hurt her - "

"Midnight, Mr. Barnes, at the pier - you know where. Don't be late, she looks like she won't last long."

The line went dead after he heard your screech of pain, confusion, and fear. The moment the line cut, he dropped his phone and slowly lowered himself to sit on the kitchen floor, shock coloring his system. It wasn't that he didn't have the money, quite the opposite - but he and his men had a plan in motion to take out HYDRA, their org's competition, and this was totally against all they anticipated. After a minute to sit in his own worry, Bucky jumped to his feet, grabbed his phone, keys, wallet, and two handguns; holstering them both before shrugging his suit jacket on.

He made every phone call he could, gathering the men he trusted most to (one of) his warehouse(s).

For hours, you were strung up by your wrists in a joint-pulling position while the Brooklyn Mafia formulated a plan of attack. It was the most pain you've ever known, but then the abuse started and you were blinded by this new pain. You had bruises most places, cuts that wept blood; scars that would never heal, wounds that wouldn't ever close. You were delirious, miserable, confused, just dazed and confused; praying to a God who didn't listen.

"Oh, look at that," your captor mocked, holding a thick-bladed hunting knife in hand, "it's one minute til midnight, and I don't see your loverboy anywhere."

You sniffled, unable to respond.

He stared out the lone window, tisking and narrating, "Nope, I see not a soul - and with how protective he is over you, you'd think he'd want to ensure your safety. Not leave it to chance, huh?"

You whimpered as the clock struck midnight, your heart hammering in heavy-hung worry. You had tears in your eyes, heart nearly beating out of your chest, feeling incredibly nauseous. The desire to scream never lessened, just fearing what was to come; the men in the room making you fear for the state of your life, their knuckles cracking. You only begged, "Please. Don't."

The main captor laughed, "You can do better than that! C'mon, give me the satisfaction of tellin' ol' James you begged for mercy - but it wasn't enough to sway me. I'll lie, for sure, and say it happened but it will be so much sweeter if you actually do it."

"Please," you shook your head, avoiding eye contact. "Just don't do this, please."

"Oh, honey," he mocked, "it's not our fault he's late. Lads! Have at her, but leave her face for now - she's still real pretty."

You listened as he gave commands in Russian, understanding after the years at Bucky's side; whimpering when the first blow landed to your gut and knocked the wind out of you. The minutes drug by and you felt your resolve crumbling, heart still hammering to a never-before-felt speed that made it feel as if it were jumping out of your very body at every single pulse point. You struggled in your restraints, but it was futile by how tight you were bound; unable to protect yourself.

At 12:03 am, the doors blew open in a resounding blast; concrete crumbling and sprinkling the floor. You cried out as the smoke choked you, coughing through the haze; only barely able to make out certain figures to know Bucky had brought his best men. However, despite the sting to your eyes from the swirling dust and smoke, you saw a lone man stalk through the blasted wall, through the fray, and straight up to you.

"Bu-Bucky!" You choked in relief as he reached to untie your feet first. You dangled for only a moment as his metal prosthetic ripped off whatever held your wrists to the torture contraption. "Oh, my God. Oh, my God, Bucky, holy shit, baby, please, please, please," you rambled as he freed you and instantly caught you on his broad shoulders.

"I got you, Peach, I'm here, I've got you," he promised in your ear, hoisting your legs around his waist so they latched and then wrapping his arms around you securely. "Don't let go and don't look up, okay? Hear me, Peach?"

You nodded into his neck, only able to cry.

Bucky jolted and jerked slightly as he moved through the fight again, but not a minute later, you were stepping outside into the sobering, brisk spring air. This was the moment you understood how dangerous and fleeting life with Bucky could be, making a promise to yourself that if he says take the car, you'll take the fucking car.

And now, here you were, outside the high-rise apartment's lounge (which was just a converted bedroom), listening to your boyfriend complain about you some 2 months after the whole fiasco. HYDRA had been all but wiped out, and in the weeks since, Bucky's men had gone on smaller missions to eradicate the HYDRA members they heard rumor of being local. Yet you didn't feel safe, yet.

You didn't feel safe if you weren't around Bucky.

Everything made you jump: the beep of the done-dryer, that spritz of the automatic fragrance mister in the bathroom, the "duh-dunnn" of a loaded-up Netflix. Keys jingling, car horns, the barking of the dog in the apartment a floor below you... Everything.

Being around Bucky was just like holding a safety blanket. He would always protect you, and for about a week after your rescue, he laid in bed and around the home with you; being lazy; time off work to simply hold you and assure you were safe. Safe in his arms. Safe in his embrace, his presence.

So now... To hear this... You were devastated.

You didn't mean to eavesdrop, it just sort of happened. It was still earlier in the morning, but Bucky hadn't been in bed beside you and based on the feel of the sheets, his body hadn't been there in a while. So, you made some coffee and then ventured around the home in search of your lover; coming upon the lounge and hearing voices from within.

You knew it was common for Steve Rogers and / or Sam Wilson to stay late or visit early, so, you weren't shocked by that, but did falter in announcing yourself when you heard Sam ask how you were doing since the kidnapping. He used your name specifically, making Bucky sigh, and for your curiosity to peak.

"She's different, man."

"How so?" Sam wondered.

"She doesn't like being without me now," he chuckled without humor. "I'm serious, she won't go to the gym until I do, waits to have meals together, won't leave the house if I'm out, and," he scoffed to himself, "you can forget going to the grocery store or anything - she's even stopped going to work - "

"You told her to stop working, like, two years ago when y'all first moved-in together," Sam deadpanned.

"I know," Bucky shrugged, "but it feels tenfold now that she's so reclusive."

"It's normal," Steve sighed gently.

"Yeah? Is it normal that I can't even go take a shit without promising her I'll be right back?" Bucky snapped in exasperation. "It's that bad, she's that fucking clingy, man. I go in the kitchen to make dinner, she's in there 30 seconds later to 'help' me. I take a shower, she finds a reason to linger in the bedroom, but that was better than before, when she wouldn't even shower by herself. It's just a lot, she's everywhere I look. I'm starting to find new reasons not to come home, man, she's always fucking here - and when I walk in the door, she's on me. I need to fucking breathe, but I can't tell her to stop, she'll get her feelings hurt and then I'm the bad guy."

"Man," Steve laughed, "you can't be the bad guy if you go to her in a calm and collected manner, but it's only been two months. She's still recovering."

"Exactly why if I say anything, no matter how calm and collected, I'm the bad guy. I get she's hurting and tryna recover, but Goddamn, does she have to be in every room I'm in? Do everything with me? How do I tell my traumatized girlfriend to back off? Let me breathe?"

Sam laughed, "You don't! You just said it - she's traumatized! Cut the girl some slack, she's got a lot to fuckin' deal with!"

"I'm not negating from that fact," Bucky argued, "I'm just trying to say, the way she's clinging onto me like she can't function without me is just grating at my nerves. I just need to breathe and recharge, but I can't tell her that - fuck's sake."

"Buck," Steve smirked, "you're worried Peach isn't gonna listen, but that's her literal superpower. Just communicate, she can't read your mind, but you need to remember how traumatic all of that was for her to experience - she's scarred from that kidnapping, man. So, sure, you need to recharge, but she needs the support."

"Is it wrong to ask for a day here and there to do that? To recharge?" Bucky asked quietly.

"If you communicate, it's perfectly reasonable to ask for," Sam assured softly. "And whatever you do, don't tell her you think she's clingy. Chicks hate that, that word is, just, like, taboo or something. Real heavy, negative connotations."

"But she is," Bucky growled quietly, "'s like she's afraid to let go 'cause I'll disappear or something."

"Oh, noooo," Sam mocked, "I'm Bucky and my girlfriend loves me too much and trusts me too much and actually feels safe and dependent on me too much - ohhh noooo!"

There was a thump, Sam's cried, "Ow!", and Bucky telling him to shut up. You slowly backed away from the door, trying to settle your breathing as you made your escape down the hall. When back in the kitchen, you whimpered and let the first tears fall... The first of many you shed in the hour it took you to prepare breakfast for everyone; doing your best to eat as you cooked so you didn't have to linger around the men. You took Bucky's words to heart, and maybe you were too sensitive, maybe you should venture outside again.

So, when the lads came out, you set the table without making eye contact with any of them. "Here," you directed, setting the pancakes down, "I made breakfast, come eat, it's still hot."

"Wow," Sam smiled brightly, "thanks, Peach!"

You hummed, still avoiding their eyes as you just set the abundance of food to the table. "You... Cooked without me?" Bucky asked you with skepticism.

"Mhm," you hummed, setting the coffee pot down to a hot pad, "and I'm going out shopping with Nat, so, eat up, lads, I'll do the dishes when I get home. Love you, boys, bye," you waved them off, snatching your keys and then moving to the door to stuff your feet into your sneakers.

"Woah, woah, woah," Bucky left the table, approaching you urgently, "hey, what do you mean? You're goin' out?"

"Yep, figured I've stayed in too long, might as well get out and remember life doesn't stop just 'cause I'm sad."

"Peach - "

"I'll see you when I get home, Buck, okay?" You mumbled, slinging your purse on your shoulder.

"Well, here, here, hey, wait, hang on," he pulled his wallet out, handing you over a wad of big bills. "Spend it all, okay? Have fun, call or text if you need me, yeah?"

"Sure."

Bucky leaned in to kiss you but you just opened the door, ready to leave. He frowned, watching you, barely managing to call a quick, "Love you!"

You didn't return the sentiment, feeling hallow and all too silly to return the affection. In your purse was your laptop, headphones, chargers, and whatever else, so, instead of meeting your friend, Natasha - being just a ruse to avoid Bucky - you started small and just went to the local café. You used to frequent it back in the day, but times were changed, and yet, they were all the happier to serve you the same as before. Getting cozy in the corner, you set up camp and ordered your favorite coffee basically every other hour - letting the day waste away as you caught up on work emails.

Might've wasted time on Instagram and Facebook and Pinterest. Got shopping done on Amazon. Browsed through Target's online selection. Checked out the sale items at Kate Spade. Perused Fenty Lingerie because you could.

Before you knew it, a message was coming in over your MacBook from Bucky, asking where you were - why had you turned your location off?

You packed up and with a to-go cup, made the short trek back home. When you got back, Bucky was pacing in the living room; staring at his phone and typing, then deleting, retyping, groaning, glancing up, typing again, then doing a double take. "Where've you been, Peach? Huh!?" Bucky demanded. "You're late!"

"Out with Nat," you eased.

He huffed through his nose, nodding slowly, "You have a nice time?"

"It was okay," you answered. "I'm gonna go to bed after I shower."

His brows furrowed, "I have a meeting tonight."

"I know."

"O...kay?" He let you go, wanting to ask why you didn't ask him to join like you had so often in the past few weeks.

And it didn't stop there, in fact, it got worse. When Bucky got home from his meeting, he was actually shocked to see you nestled in the bed; teetering on the edge of the shared space while snuggling a weighted body pillow.

When he tried to give you a snuggle, you stirred to life and pushed him back, muttering, "Too hot."

The following morning, he was relatively surprised to see you up and about before him; barely getting a word in before you were slipping out the door to go on a morning jog. He was confused by how all of a sudden, where you were once everywhere he looked, now, you were disappeared and distant and gone. You worked out alone, cooked alone - but always left him a plate, but long gone were the cute little sticky notes you left for him. You once haunted the apartment by never wanting to leave, and now, ghosted in and out of it on a daily basis.

You never bothered to go far from home. You liked hanging at the coffee shop and luckily, your job let you work from home most days, and the rare time you were due back in the office, it was only about a 20 minute walk. You got better at lying, couldn't even remember the last time you and Bucky had sex, and even now, the last time you had a meal together. You didn't text him about your day; where you once might've told him about an adorable dog you saw on the street, now, you only ever texted him if he asked a direct question.

Food lost appeal, your appetite vanished.

Sleep evaded you, plaguing you with nightmares when you did rest.

Interest dulled, passions were snuffed, and only fearful, confused anger remained. It showed in the way weight seemed to shift around your body, thinning; the lack of sleep creating dark rings and bags under your bloodshot eyes.

After two weeks of this, Bucky grew irritated and short with everyone around him. It reflected in his work, the way he spoke to everyone; even Steve and Sam getting the brunt end of his anger. Without you to assure him, Bucky was off his rocker; losing his cool; his patience stretched far too thin. So much so, the two mates approached an outside associate, Natasha Romanoff, after a particularly snappy meeting to plead for her to talk to Bucky.

"James," Nat greeted as she strode into his office without knocking.

"I know you're my oldest friend, but you don't have that privilege yet," he mused, never looking up.

"What?"

"Not knocking. What is it, Nat?"

"Just came to check on you, you know, like friends do."

"Hm," he chuckled without humor, "and what did Peach say to you?"

"About...?"

"Me."

"Nothing, I haven't gotten ahold of her for weeks."

Bucky paused, slowly lifting his head in confusion; brows furrowed and mouth set in a firm, straight line. "What?" He grit.

"Huh?" Nat wondered.

"She's been telling me that she's hanging out with you for the past two weeks," he revealed.

"Nope, not since the incident with HYDRA."

Bucky's (right) flesh hand crushed the pen in his grip, taking a long breath. "All right," he sighed, "so, why come today?"

"What's really going on, Buck?" She worried softly. "Is it really whatever's going on with Peach? You're this pissed off? What'd she even do?"

"She just..." He cut himself off with a long sigh. "It's nothing."

"Bucky," Nat gave a pointed look.

"She's just avoiding me," he muttered. "It's like she's barely home, almost like a ghost."

"Isn't that what you wanted?"

"Yes, and no," Bucky snipped, rolling his neck out. "I'm just worried about her now, she's never not communicated before."

"Something's bothering her," Nat shrugged. "She probably needs you right now, Buck."

"I can't do it all," he whispered. "I can't be who she wants and run this organization at the same time."

"She doesn't need that, she just needs you to be her partner," Natasha spoke softly. "She needs to feel loved and supported, and surely, she maybe felt weird about whatever you were projecting. Instead of taking it out on your men," she smirked, "why don't you just talk to her? 'Cause I hear you're bein' a more-than-usual asshole lately. You need to ease up or get laid, 'cause you're taking it out on good, loyal men, and that's entirely unfair."

"They can take it."

"Sure, but they shouldn't have to," Nat rolled her eyes. "Look, since you won't answer me, I'm assuming the sour mood is in regard to whatever relationship issues you have right now?"

"Sure," he tossed the pen away, opened a skinny drawer to his right and select an identical one.

"Bucky," she growled.

He sighed, "She's lying to me, Nat. Saying she's with you when she's not... Is this an affair? She's gone all the time now."

"No way," Nat laughed. "Baby girl doesn't have the energy to entertain anyone - let alone two men. You're just the exception."

"Why lie, then?"

"Maybe she didn't want you questioning her..."

"No shit."

"Well, did you get into a fight?"

"No."

"Any reason she doesn't want to be home?"

He shook his head with a sigh, "Not that I know of."

"You had to do something."

"Honest, I haven't. She was being all clingy, but then one day, a switch flipped."

Nat frowned, "You think... Your girlfriend is being clingy... Because she was kidnapped and beaten up... Because of your fucking job... And is probably scared...out of...her mind...? I get that correct?"

Bucky paused for a long moment, muttering, "Oh, my God."

"Yeah, you asshole. Think of it that way! She's afraid!" Natasha snapped. "And probably picked up on your energy, so, she made herself scarce."

"I didn't mean - "

"I don't care, go home, apologize to that sweet angel - she doesn't deserve this."

Bucky paused, "What is 'this' exactly?"

"James. Focus on the present - your woman. Go make this right. We all know you're this big, bad dude - but it's okay to be a little sensitive towards the woman who loves you without condition!"

Bucky relented, figuring the redheaded Russian mobster was right.

The entire drive home, Bucky considered the ways you had changed in the few, short weeks since he vented to Sam and Steve about your clinginess. You didn't take meals with him, didn't cook, work-out, or do anything you used to do together. Sex? Forget it. Dates? Nope. Cuddling? No, you're always 'too hot'. And when he thought about it, he remembers seeing the wads of cash he'd leave for you stuffed in his sock drawer - surely trying to make him think it was just another emergency fund he had hidden. You never spent his money, feeling humiliated by his choice of words.

Clingy...

You didn't text or call him when he was gone, you hadn't even so much as kissed him in what felt like ages... Well, more like you hadn't initiated any kisses...

His heart weighed in his chest as he realized he hadn't even so much as hugged you in days. You were rarely in the apartment together, and when you were, you were just silent and busy with chores. It was as if you operated on the exact opposite schedule as he did, went to new extents to avoid him, and his heart clenched in his chest.

When he got home, you were caught cooking in the kitchen - being obvious that you weren't expecting him. The door slammed and his baritone voice snapped, "Peach!"

You gulped, holding the sauce-covered wooden spoon to your chest. When he rounded around the corner, he found you and slowed down, sighing in relief. "What's wrong?" You worried in a timid tone.

He panted lightly, relaying, "Needed to find you."

"I'm here."

"I know," he relented, charging up to you and engulfing you in a tight, heavy hug. "I needed to talk to you, Peach," he whispered.

"What's wrong?"

"You. You're what's wrong."

"What the fuck does that - "

"No, no," he pulled back to stare down at you fondly, "I don't mean it like that, just that... You're struggling. I can see that. But you're not alone, I'm here with you, and I got a little caught up in my head when I realized someone was so very dependent on me - it fucking scared me. But then... Then you just shut yourself off and hid away from me, and oh, my God, it's so much worse, baby. Don't do that," he breathed, "okay? Don't ever shut me out - don't stop loving me, don't stop talking to me, don't give up on us. I can't read your mind, you can't read mine, it's not an excuse - but we understand better when we trust each other enough to communicate what's required. I'm so sorry I got caught up in myself, I didn't know what you needed - but I'm here now, I'm here - I'm not leaving you."

You collapsed into his chest, taking a shuddering breath.

"Don't ever stop talking to me, Peach," Bucky whispered, kissing the top of your head; keeping you close. "I'm so sorry, baby, if I - "

"If?" You snapped, pulling back to glare at him through your tears. "I heard you, Bucky. I heard you talking to Sam and Steve, and about how clingy I am."

"I was wrong," he insisted. "I was overwhelmed and tired and just stretched thin, the easiest thing to do is attack those closest to me, and that's you. It's not right, it's the worst I could do to you after all you've been through, and I'm so sorry. I was wrong, you're not the person to take this out on - and I'm so sorry, Peach."

You sighed, "I don't mean to be... I don't mean to cling - "

"Nah," he chuckled, caressing your cheek, "you cling as much as you want. Cling as tight as you want, baby, don't let me go. I'm sorry for what I said and the way it made you feel, it was wrong - so fucking wrong of me, and I see that. When you pulled away from me, I just... I couldn't think. It felt so wrong, and I knew it was my fault." He took your face in both palms, promising, "I'm so sorry, Peach."

You shrugged meekly, "It's okay."

"It's not."

"No, but apologizing is a step in the right direction."

He nodded, "What else can I do?"

"Nothing - "

"Peach."

You paused to think, smiling shyly, "Movie night?"

"Whatever my pretty girl wants," he nodded.

"Hmm... Get a bath with me?"

"All right... Sure, okay..."

"And face masks."

He sighed, "Okay."

"And mani-pedis."

"Baby."

"You said you were making it up to me, right?"

He smirked, "That's right... All right, yeah, sure, fine, we can..." He sighed again, "We can do all that, Peach, whatever you want."

"I just want you," you told him softly. "I didn't mean to be so clingy. I was just afraid... I felt afraid everyday, just so very unsure in this life. You're the only thing that makes sense to me, Buck, and when I heard you, I just... I guess I realized how dependent I'd been and wanted to give you space. Last thing I want is to smother you, to drive you away from me."

"Not ever gonna happen," he promised softly. "I just didn't handle it like I should've. I'm sorry, Peach, but I'm here now - for whatever you need. Want me to take a few days off, just be together? I'll arrange it. Want to get away for a bit? We can go."

"I just need you," you whispered. "Only you and I should be okay - I can be okay if I have you, but feeling like I lost you? Even a fraction? Buck... James, it was such a harrowing feeling, I wasn't sure what to do to move forward. So, I think I just panicked, shut down; thought if I could just get back to normal, you'd love me again..."

"I never stopped loving you," he swore, "I just had a bad lapse in my own judgement. Nothing against you, baby. Nothing."

You nodded again, letting him tuck you into his chest; perfectly snug under his chin as he coiled his arms around you. He let out a long sigh, his guilt swelling to new heights, but for that present moment, everything seemed okay.

Felt okay.

Appeared okay.

And you'd both do whatever it took to remain as okay as you possibly could.

requesting rules and masterlist

Marvel masterlist

Clingy Baby collection masterlist

[toskarin]

sorry to ask, but can you explain your last post to someone who knows nothing about the musician community youre talking about... it sounds like a really really good post if i just understood it better

this is another one of those posts where I'm transcribing a stream of consciousness, so I'll throw in a courtesy readmore

the musician community, as a whole, is much more segmented than the visual artist community

this leads to good and bad things, but generally it allows for more awareness of one's position and an acknowledgement that the needs of an underground folk artist are going to be different than the needs of a composer who receives a name credit. this means there is always going to be heavy pushback when someone tries to impose ethics downward

one element of this is the inward acknowledgement that the monolithic musician community isn't actually real in a way that isn't really mirrored in the visual artist community. besides making music and navigating the financial (and legal) landscape of that, there is very little that intrinsically unites musicians

this acknowledgement allows discussions about concerns among poorer musicians to exist without being completely shut down by someone who has different concerns, because they're not seen as the subject of the discussion unless they are respectfully contributing to it

one big reason for this being possible is that musicians are less respected than visual artists in the professional world

that might sound absurd if you only know of one landscape, but think of how many game (and movie, and tv, and etc. etc. etc.) franchises with identity-defining composers go on to swap out the composer at the first sign of a labour dispute, to very little protest as long as the quality of music isn't seen as dropping

hell, if someone else can copy your style satisfactorily, there's often no fuss at all! this leads to a pretty violent disillusionment with your place in the creative world

even beyond that, there exists an entire industry based around creating a parasitic body of IP landlordism for anyone whose music isn't attached to another product. the musician is, in a way that is deeply and thoroughly beaten into them, a labourer

the visual artist community (until recently) didn't tend to have this disillusionment, so it often follows the sway of its most popular and established members

in fact, the modern visual artist community as a broad cultural body is carved almost entirely from social media discussions that treat the community as one entity. accordingly, becoming established basically requires participation in this online entity

to further poison the well, the position of a visual artist is regularly talked about in spiritual terms rather than labour terms. there is something special that makes you a visual artist. it's the exact mentality that people rightfully made fun of in those ordinary people vs creative people comics. it's the unspoken cultural assumption that natural talent exists, even if most people would deny believing in it if put into explicit terms

while this does feel very good, it means that acknowledging labour-originated conflicts of interest is a bit rude

when a community unites itself around a spiritual core, it can't properly assert "your experiences are not applicable to what is being discussed and you should not be imposing yourself" because, by all metrics, an artist is a fundamentally unique demographic that can speak in all conversations about art

it's a warped form of anti-gatekeeping, a one-way gate through which you can strike down at other poor artists, but not up, enforced from below and framed as a desire for openness

the visual artist community's relative homogenisation of popular consensus is, on the whole, very very very bad for what it does to its norms. it hashes out and legislates within itself with an unspoken assumption that its most prolific members are simply further along the artist lifecycle, and therefore the most trustworthy

discussions with direct parallels ("is it okay to be obviously influenced by someone else's style?") come to much hazier conclusions which lean towards the opinions held by people with the most followers

most egregiously, this manifested in how visual artists react to piracy

the past ten years (in large part because of patreon making viable the paywalling of material behind a regular subscription) have been consumed by arguments about piracy that all seem to terminate in the assumption that piracy is theft, with little stratification of opinion between the hobbyist and professional scenes on this matter

this assumed spiritual core of the community is felt strongly in every conversation. look at the difference in attitudes around the distribution of cracked VSTs and the distribution of brush packs. hell, even on the corporate level, look at the difference in attitudes around pirating DAWs vs visual art programs

even when people are implying an approval of piracy, they find ways to frame it from a position of revenge on a company for something wrong it did, because they still need to conform to the community understanding of piracy as theft

individual visual artists can be (and often are!) more conscious of this stuff, but even then, people react with shock when these visual artists aren't horribly concerned about the possibility of their paywalled work existing on a torrent site

in a word, if you can see the ways these conversation spaces are different and similar, it's all so exhausting

[turbo-tsundere]

Content warning for gore, blood, burns & body horror.

A king with no crown and a holy fool.

(The element of venom/poison, stabbing/puncture wounds and destruction of a whole body is present in both of their deaths. Kokichi's pristine white clothes also end up being shoved down the toilet, and the poison made it difficult for him to breathe, so there's plausible callback to Miu also. Karma at its finest?)

If I could be the devil, you could be the sinner.

(Don't mind them, they're just spilling their guts)

(...)

(Concepts for scenes from a Gonta-centric survival horror game I'll never make. But it was fun to daydream about - maybe one day I'll finish other sketches and doodles relating to it into a more presentable state. The Cat Lady OST was playing on constant repeat while I drew this - Lily of the Valley, Don't Follow the Light, String, Plainwalker, Early Winter, Storytelling, Susan's Blue Sheep (alone again) - those in particular are now stuck in my brain when I look at those drawings, and what I imagine the "game's" mood to be like, at least the opening segment.)

(I felt both heartbroken and like a monster when drawing this one... But I wanted to draw something that doesn't conveniently erase nor tuck his mangled, swollen face away from view. Sure... in game it looks goofy. But I think mockingly disfiguring him was the point in all of this, too. And given the venom, the Schmidt pain index, how it rates some wasp species, the fact that those robot wasps could be packed with anything necessary really... it had to be awful. Really, every stage of Gonta's execution was excruciating and enough to kill a person on its own, but due to his strength he likely suffered through them all. I remember begging in my head he was at least spared the flame, that he was already gone by this point... But it's foolish to pretend it definitely was the case.)

I wanted to post something new, but I was either busy, ill, or focused on something else, so another sketchdump with oldies and wips it is. This time strictly 2020-21 stuff, drawn during the first few months after finishing the game; mostly to process the post-game/Ch4 sorrows. All very emotionally raw, very edgy stuff that I felt, to be honest, too shy to show before.

Like with any wip I posted before, I do hope to finish some of them properly one day, even though I don't know when. But that's fine, I've signed up for a very long ride with the bug man. Taking it easy is the priority.

Speaking of long-term projects, maybe there's no need to, but I do want to talk about my Gonta fancomic, so here goes.

It's a bit long, so I will continue under the cut.

(Some panel teasers first! ...Gonta sanity fine.)

I took a few months long break from personal drawings - an *actual* break, not just sitting in front of a screen, tired, stewing in guilt that I'm tired, and that I can't magically muscle through burnout, or headache, or exhaustion.

My brain was stuck in a loop of berating myself for underperforming, not doing well enough, for taking so long on "mere" 27 pages, when in the past I could finish a 90-page webcomic chapter much faster. I wouldn't let myself rest, because I didn't do enough; but I couldn't do enough, because I didn't allow myself to rest. And it's been going on for months and months.

What a stupid, unconstructive thing to do to myself. I was only spiralling down, intimidating and overwhelming myself with work on the one thing I specifically wanted to keep doing out of joy, not ambition and pedantism. So I decided to just say "fuck it" and stop for a while. Like, actually stop, do something else and try to feel unapologetic about it.

So I briefly took up sewing, a creative activity I had no personal stake in, and then I started PVP-ing in DS3 (sorry if I happened to kick your butt in there. Rest assured my butt gets kicked just as much), which did wonders, too, as non-artistic pastime.

And, in the end, it seems it worked.

I finally feel this internal drive to draw again. Sadly, I can't spend all of my free time on the doujin (I might need to open commissions soon), so my pacing will still be glacial... But there was an internal change from "I have to, I have to, I must..." back to "I want to". And this is all that matters.

Still, that makes me think... while technically I don't have deadlines, the comic has taken so much longer than I thought it would - and it will take a while still. Thus, I wonder if I shouldn't change my approach re publishing it.

The initial idea was to post it all at once when it's fully finished, but I debate releasing it one page at a time instead, while it's still work in progress.

Thing is, I don't think it would be good for overall pacing. I don't want to sacrifice it, plus I can't guarantee regular uploads, esp since I don't exactly work on the pages in chronological order (While the first page is done, it was drawn after I finished a few in the middle & at the end; and there are still a few important pages/panels in first half I'm a bit too afraid of touching just yet, wanting to do them justice. This is how I work in general, jumping around rather than sticking to overly strict linear order.)

The compromise would be to post like 3-5 pages per post, making it so each upload covers a specific scene, however, same issue arises - I can't promise regular uploads. In the end it feels like a half-measure. But maybe it's a good idea, despite that impression?

There's a secret option, too - if this takes absurdly long, my plan was to just post the storyboard, after replacing some panels/pages with already finished drawings. The thing is readable as is, and long finished on that front anyway. My personal deadline for that was "right before my current lease ends", but, well… I plan on extending it anyway, and again... it's just a back-up option for when everything else fails. In the end, I just want to finish the comic, and present it how it's meant to be presented, however long it will take.

All those things considered, I'll stick to the original plan for now... and then we shall see. I simply wanted to share where things stand currently, and where they might go.

And that's it! If you've read this far, thank you. See you in the undetermined future.

[fatuismooches]

I have a terrible idea.

So we know how Dottore is kinda forgetful right? Like this man straight up forgot that he killed Krupp not even an hour later.

What if... 👉👈 his lover died and he sometimes forgot that happened?

So Dottore is just chilling, and remembers that he should be making his dear's next round of medications.

He goes through the motions, only to pause midway. Right... his lover is dead.

He throws out the half finished medications.

IF THIS IS TOO EVIL IM SORRY 😭 I JUST THOUGHT OF IT AND IVE BEEN DYING SINCE

It's not a secret that Dottore tends to throw himself into his work, especially when he's particularly excited about getting results. Now, it's still not unusual for the Harbinger to busy himself in his lab... only this time, it's to distract himself from his reality outside of work. He barely even talks to his segments anymore, leaving them to fulfill their respective duties, so he works from project to project. Working, working... although there are occasions when he pauses to wonder what he's doing.

How long has he been working? Ages by now probably, it seems like he lost track of time, as he always did. So much work... no breaks... speaking of breaks, he'd have thought you'd come to pester him to take one by now. That was odd. Quite peculiar, to be honest. Maybe you were caught up in your own interests? He'd have to indulge you in them soon. Speaking of strangeness, his foggy, sleep and food deprived mind realizes he's neglected to start concocting your new medicine! He clicks his tongue at his carelessness, this was of utmost importance! He despised seeing any day when your health was worse off - it was his duty to keep you stable.

Dottore gets to work gathering the necessary items for your meds, his shoulders relaxing a bit as he will see you soon. But then his face turns to a scowl as he realizes important ingredients hadn't been gathered. Why didn't he send an order out for them? That was wholly idiotic - he'd never forget something as important as that... there must have been a good reason... and so he rattles his overfilled brain to remember and then-

It's times like this when Dottore remembers it was his duty to you as Zandik to keep you happy and healthy, and he failed.

The segments ignore the crash from his quarters once again.

[xneens]

Strauss asking reader into her office to talk about the tiktoks reader made about Hotch? 🤭

You haven't even greeted the team before Strauss sends you an email, asking you to meet her in her office as soon as you get in. You can't help but feel annoyed at the message, dropping your stuff off in a huff on your desk.

When you knock on her opened door, you see Aaron sitting in one of the chairs across from her, eyebrows raised when he sees you enter. "You wanted to see me?"

Strauss nodded, gesturing to you to come inside. As you shut the door behind you, she continued. "I wanted to talk to you and Agent Hotchner about a few videos you posted that are questionable."

Immediately you know what she's talking about. Glancing at Aaron with fear in your eyes, you saw his lips twitching, fighting back a smile. You don't know whether to be embarrassed and mortified or annoyed he isn't as worried as you.

Clearing your throat, you turned back to your boss's boss, slowly sitting down in the chair next to Aaron. "What videos?"

You see Aaron cover his lips with his hand when Strauss pulls out her laptop, a video you made from your TikTok account on the screen. Without a single word, she hits play and Umbrella fills the office as you lip sync to it with Aaron in the background looking up after a second and a smile forming on his face.

In the caption you've written, "When he's a 6'2", 45-year-old criminal profiler in a suit and tie." while lip-syncing the "Come into me" part of Rihanna's song. When the video ends, you look over at Aaron and see he's expressionless. You start to panic.

"Oh ... That one. I see." you said, inwardly slapping yourself for the answer. Strauss

raised an eyebrow. "What about it?"

"There's more," Strauss replied, ignoring your question as she clicks on another video.

You can't help but cringe as the sound plays very loudly. When the video finishes, she raises an eyebrow. "Now what did you mean when you said 'catch me on that dick tryna ride like a rodeo' with a picture of Agent Hotchner?”

You can't help the awkward laugh that escapes you because despite not knowing if you're in trouble or not, Strauss saying dick made you giggle. "Technically, I didn't say it. It was the song."

"You wrote it in the caption, didn't you?"

“. .. Yeah."

Silence fills the room and before you can ask, she pulls up a video of you filming

Aaron-who was well aware of the video, by the way, with the caption "Him in a beard >>" and the sound of dogs barking as the audio. You hear a nearly inaudible laugh from the man sitting next to you but you don't dare look.

Strauss clicks on another TikTok, but instead of a video, it was photos in a slideshow. You had to bite your tongue when the "Get destroyed or get destroyed" caption showed up along with a picture of Aaron with his tie undone. This was truly the weirdest, most embarrassing, and funniest shit you've gotten in trouble for.

When Strauss doesn't continue showing you videos you made about how hot your boss is—there's so much more, so much that someone might think you're dating—you meet her eyes and give her an apologizing look. "I'm sorry, I didn't know this was against policy."

"It's not," Aaron answers, speaking for the first time since you entered the room. "What did you want to talk to us about, Erin?"

She sighed, closing her laptop. "Aaron, I've told you before, there's no reason to hide this relationship. It's better to tell me what's going on other than have someone else find out and have another sexual harassment meeting again."

"Oh, he and I aren't—" you start to say, gesturing between you and Aaron.

"No, but you'd like to be." Strauss cuts you off, eyes narrowing at Aaron. “There's no policy against coworkers dating but there are rules if you start dating your subordinate."

Aaron nods, glancing briefly at you before speaking. "And what are those rules?"

"You must BCC your emails to each other to someone in HR, and complete the sexual harassment training segment again," she responded.

"Alright," Aaron replies, nodding once again.

You're dumbfounded when she dismisses the both of you, eyes flickering back to Aaron as you walk out of her office. Once you're back at your desk, you turned to him. "Well that was embarrassing.

He snorted. "Not as embarrassing as Bob from HR will be when he reads our emails."

You blinked. "What?"

Aaron smiled, slowly backing up from your desk as he made his way to his office. "We'll have to BCC him in our chats, honey."

[sergle]

Every time YouTube nonsense happens I'm always like "I can't wait to see what Sergle says about this" because you're the only person I follow that talks about YouTube nonsense.

Please take this is an invitation for you to talk about the Watcher's apology video lol

I am a filthy youtube enjoyer so you can absolutely count on me and GODDDDDDDDDDD... I mean the apology is not NEARLY as funny as the blunder, so it hasn't kept my attention as much but like the obligatory upfront thing is that, like, it is good that they posted it, they apologized for being insensitive and whatever, they're not scraping their channel clean or going forward with their old plan to only post their shows on their own platform, and these are technically good and correct things, because they could have pretended not to notice all the negative feedback. So like, responding is good. BUT LIKE I HAVE QUESTIONS NOW... Because they took SO LONG to film and upload a video that basically is just "we fucked up, we're sorry, we're not gonna do that anymore", which doesn't exactly take a writer's room several days to cook, but I DIGRESS... They were quiet for long enough for everyone to LOOK REALLY CLOSE. After the initial reaction, people had time to do some pretty comprehensive cost breakdowns for their stuff, and for what they have to be pulling in from adsense, sponsored segments, patreon, merch, and touring Like, they'd need to be really mismanaging their finances, because they're doing very well for themselves, making good, stable money, and the vids they make are super duper advertiser friendly. SO... you take long enough without putting out a holder statement or a quick heel-turn apology or anything, it gives people more time to get comfortable with not liking you, and also to dig around and google things about you, or scrape up info/trivia about you to corroborate their new opinion of you. It gets personal, is what I mean. So pulling this move has still, at BEST, caused some permanent damage to their relationships with fans, in both directions. They all got a huge flood of negative feedback, and even a perfect, emotionally mature, non-entitled person would have a negative reaction to people being upset with them at such a high volume. But now they're gonna remember the things that people have said about them, and there's no way that at the very least, Steven isn't gonna feel spiteful about this. People TOTALLY unloaded on him (funny) (valid) about his evangelical christian conservative leaning tesla privileged out of touch boy gold flaked ice cream eating ways. He definitely is going to remember that ppl said they never liked him in the first place. As for Ryan and Shane, people didn't have any dirt on them, but they definitely still received a lot of angry messages from people, most of which will have been reasonable, but they're gonna remember the really really mean and intense ones. Anyway, they made a booboo dumb enough for jack to want to make a skit about it, so for that I'm very grateful, because I thought it was really really fucking funny

[littlekiara96]

Hey, Penacony spoilers ahead for up to the end of 2.3. THEORY AHEAD. (kinda crack, kinda not, I'm talking about Gallagher)

Y'know, it's funny how Gallagher, a History Fictionologist, told like 1 lie.

And then, Mr. Reca, a Memokeeper, told some guy "Love the unknown" once.

Like, guys, switch places, please. That would make more sense.

I remember when I found inconsistencies with how people treated Gallagher; one of two Bloodhounds "recognising" him, another Bloodhound going "Who?" and then the receptionist at the Family's mansion acting as if he's some important person who's rarely sought out by people?

I swear, this still makes no sense... unless......

And Reca is sometimes a well-known director. Sometimes a self-proclaimed one.

Chabro and Aideen? Love the guy. Nobodies? Who does this dude think he is.

But hey. You know what makes me go "What the HELL is going on here"?

I have two questions.

Why "Mr. Reca"? And not Mr. Reca?

How the hell does this guy know about Gallagher AND HIS DEATH.

Okay, so I guess this Reca is indeed a Memokeeper who uses camera and film to record (rec - Reca) stuff and retell stories. He should be the same Memokeeper Black Swan mentions at the Studios.

And I suspect this censored movie to be his work.

Hey, remember who did so much to make sure that some people's names and true stories would be restored?

Yeah, funny coincidences.

And then, nobody remembers Gallagher, ironically. Except us, Nameless.

And except Reca, SOMEHOW. (Aideen. Gallagher is the guy thanked BEFORE YOUR OWN BRAND, DID YOU EVEN WATCH THE MOVIE.)

But ultimately, Aideen is right. Gallagher wasn't made to be remembered.

Sorry, I mean, "Gallagher the History Fictionologist" isn't meant to be remembered.

We know "Gallagher" is fake. And I'm not just talking about his appearance; ALL OF HIM is fictional. He is a character, a role. And like any role... there has to be an actor playing the part. The person who came up with "Gallagher". The person who is still there once the character isn't needed anymore.

The person we didn't see when "Gallagher" disappeared off-screen.

And I guess that person would also be the real Gallagher... The one who was so loyal to Mikhail.

Or... was he all that loyal to Mikhail?

There's something so fickle about calling an unshakable loyalty "imaginary". I know it's meant positively here, but it's so easy to turn this upside-down...

I mean, the purpose of "Gallagher" was to fulfill one promise to Mikhail. And once that has been done... the real Gallagher could do whatever, afterwards. He's free of his role as "Gallagher" the History Fictionologist... who did the exact opposite of what a Fictionologist would do...... by restoring the truth of the past.........

Gallagher is the worst at his job, isn't he. Almost like he should be a Memokeeper, instead.

Anyway. I have a technical question.

Where did Reca get the memory segments to recreate Firefly for the Scorchsand Venue movie?

I see two possibilities:

Got them from someone else (Aideen, other witnesses, maybe from the surroundings themselves?)

Himself

In the first case, it makes sense, I have no further question.

In the second case, though... When did Reca meet Firefly? Did he need to actually meet her or would just seeing her from afar suffice? Depending on the answers to those questions, things might get complicated.

Okay, it's time I stopped beating around the bush. I've been drawing mirrored parallels between "Gallagher" and "Mr. Reca" from the very start of this post. You're probably guessing what my point is by now.

But first... Remember Sleepie? a.k.a. Dormancy?

Poor thing came to Scorchsand searching for Gallagher...

But there was no trace of him there anymore since... before Sleepie arrived... Right?

And there's no way Gallagher would still be around... Right?

... why would you say that if you know your whole being will disappear once you're done with your final task...

i mean, it's not like there was yet another Hound statue in Dreamflux Reef, next to the three epitaphs of the Nameless, right?! Grmbl...

Remember when Himeko said "In the end, we still failed to figure out his true identity, or if he was even a "living person"? Because I SURE REMEMBER.

Anyway, we don't know where Reca was when Sleepie arrived at Scorchsand, but-

I think it's safe to say that they interracted to some extent.

BUT that's in fact still not what made me go "WHAT THE ACTUAL HELL IS GOING ON HERE???!!"

Remember how the movie started?

With the phrase: "Even now, the world is still filled with characters that we've played."

The hell do you mean by that, Reca.

And it ended with the phrase: "We will keep playing our roles, drunken and foolish in the moment, playing at life but never thinking to celebrate it." Then the credits roll.

Heyyyy, I know someone else who talks about celebrating life. And used bits of other people's lives to create a whole new "character". Kinda like how you can pick pieces of different stories to make a whole new story. Or movie, for that matter.

And hey... Reca told us "My lens is upon you… Don't let me down. And more importantly, don't let the audience down."

You know who told us we had interesting life stories? YEAH.

Hey. Let's go back to Brina. The receptionist.

You know how we could easily explain this?

If the real Gallagher's full name was Gallagher Reca.

Or maybe "Mr. Reca" is just yet another pseudonym. I mean, why would he credit himself as "Mr. Reca" and not Reca. That's fishy.

ANYWAY, this theory has been on my mind for maybe 4 months now, so I'm glad I've finally manage to write all of my thoughts down.

[littlemisskookie]

Crocodile Tears: Intro

Crocodile Tears: Index Ship: Stoner!Reader | Stoner!BTS Description: You accidentally eat brownies with aphrodisiacs in them. Even worse one of your asshole friends catch you reading smut to cope, and decides to airdrop your collection of your dirtiest fantasies to the rest of the house. Just your luck. Warnings: Dub-Con, Degradation, Humiliation, Dom!BTS, Sub!Reader, Weed (sorry it’s what helps get me in the mood to write these), Dirty Talk, Kink Shaming?, mentions of the reader being into kind of dark/taboo kinks, Jimin is incredibly mean for no reason, Reader is ridiculously horny and is good at weed Word Count: 2,397 A/N: This has now been edited and finalized which means I can get started on the first segment!

You coughed, smoke erupting from between your lips. You feel Jungkook's large hand offering a comforting (arousing) pat on your back, rubbing gently to comfort you out of your coughing fit.  Damn, why'd you have to get horny when you were smoking weed? It didn't help that you were surrounded by perhaps the hottest guys on campus. Who would've thought that befriending fellow stoner, Hoseok, over a blunt in a party would lead to introducing you to his other stoner friends? Before you knew it, you guys would hang out regularly, bonding over a bong.

Today wasn't supposed to be any different from those days. You had smoked with these seven plenty of times before. Most of the time it was in Yoongi's studio apartment, practically hot boxing the small space. 

Today though you guys were lucky.  Namjoon's rich parents were going to be gone on a cruise for two weeks. You guys could smoke carefree in a nice ass mansion and not have to worry about the smell, as Namjoon assured you the maids would take care of it. (They much preferred Namjoon to his parents despite the weed smell assistances, probably because he's so charming. You didn't blame them. Namjoon had that old money charm, the type that would make you not hesitate to do whatever he asked.)

You guys brought bongs, edible gummies, baked goods, weed, pipes, snacks, water bottles, pens and carts- anything a proper stoner hangout would need.

Part of the reason the guys adored you so much was because you had the highest tolerance of any girl they ever met, which was very contradictory to first glance. You could outsmoke any man you met, and could brag you had never greened out despite the amount of weed you'd smoke once challenged. You could simply keep going, you were a beast, this was your talent. You were proud to say you had outsmoked each and every man in this room, earning their respect and the privilege of joining their smoking group. You weren't going to argue. You've never gotten so much free weed and attention from hot guys in your life.  You were used to the attention it would bring you now for the most part. Cute girl who smokes weed? It's stoner boy kryptonite, basically your super power. 

Except against one. There was one guy that definitely wasn't the most respectful to you, treating you like he barely even liked you, but for some reason you didn't find yourself minding. You don't think you'd mind it from any of these guys, but as it was, your stoner powers gave you a leg up on these guys. Most of them wouldn't dare think about disrespecting a deity like you.

That didn't mean you didn't have your moments of coughing, though. Usually you were better and holding it down nowadays, but it was a bigger hit than you were anticipating. 

Jungkook pulled the bong back, face in front of yours to examine your expression. "You ok?" he asked. You look up at him, eyes locking. He's got that hooded eyes, hazy look in the eye that looked so similar to "fuck me" eyes. You didn't want to assume, though. Too many times guys told you it looked like you were giving them fuck me eyes when in reality out were simply stoned. 

"I'm good," you assured, trying not to think about how good his lip ring looked. Shit, you were probably staring at it right now. You quickly turn away, feeling flushed, reaching for the plate of brownies you had pulled from the kitchen. "God, I'm having insane cravings right now, though!"

"Wait, Y/N, where'd you get those brownies?" Jin inquired, squinting down at your plate. 

"In the kitchen. Namjoon said I could help myself to whatever food's there." You paused after scarfing down another bite. "Oh no, do these have more weed in them? I mean I think I'll be fine, but shit."

Jin's mouth dropped open. "Uh, no... not weed."

Your brows furrowed as you stared back at him. "What is it, then? Did you put fentanyl in brownies, Jin?!"

"God, no! Not fentanyl... aphrodisiacs," Jin sheepishly admitted.

"What the fuck, man, why'd you bring sex brownies to the party?" Yoongi laughed. "Trying to start an orgy or something?"

"No! Me and Y/N were just joking about it last time we hung out and were talking about those chocolates on tik tok that make you horny. She was like what if we all took one and saw what happened? I decided to make some myself and brought them. I didn't know Y/N was going to end up eating half of them herself!" Jin explained hurriedly, eyes glancing to you quickly for help. 

"So you were trying to start an orgy!" Yoongi accused. 

You bursted out laughing. "Well, that explains a lot. At least I can't overdose on aphrodisiacs. Teaches me not to let my munchies get the best of me." You turn to Jungkook, biting your lip at the sight of him. These sex brownies were really doing something to you. You're all giggly, though, from the weed. "Munch. Munchies. Do you think munches get munchies?"

"Y/N definitely seems high enough," Namjoon laughs. "Sorry you're just going to be stuck with the brownies... effects. You sure you'll be ok?"

You wave your hand dismissively. "I'll be fineeee. I'm basically horny most of the time anyways, this will be no different."

"TMI," Hoseok jokes, rolling his eyes.

You were fine.

For all of, like, ten minutes.

Once an hour had passed, you were practically wanting to jump out of your skin. You found your mind wandering off, you were biting your lips far more often than usual, your eyes weren't just blazed stupor, but full on fuck me eyes. You found yourself staring intently at your guy friends. Jimin's thick lips wrapping around a blunt, letting smoke pour out. The way he was staring back at you, almost suspicious. God, he'd probably be disgusted if we knew what sort of thoughts you were having about him. He always acted a bit disgusted by you. You eyes flitted away to his best friend next to him. Taehyung's hands gripping around the bong, elegant fingers wrapping around it, veins tracing along the middle. You wondered if he'd choke you if you asked. Wait stop. You try to keep your high mind from wandering off to dirty places and focus on what's in front of you. Jungkook's tattooed fingers as he rolled up a joint for you, doing so with such delicacy and precision. He was so careful, and was definitely the best at rolling. You sucked at it, and were grateful that Jungkook's attentive personality made him volunteer to be your personal roller. Without thinking, you bring your fingers up to your mouth, chewing on your thumbnail as you stare at Jungkook with a certain intensity.

It was Taehyung who spoke to you first.  "Y/N, you good? You looking kinda zoned out, there." 

You snapped out of it, hand flying away from your mouth. "Huh? Oh, sorry, I was just thinking."

"Your joint's done," Jungkook said, tatted hand offering it up to you.

"Thank you, Kookie," you grin, tussling his hair in front of you. Fuck, you wanted to grip it while his head was between your legs. You reach back, clearing your throat. "It's kind of hot in here, actually. I think I'll go to the balcony."

You hope they don't read too much into your need of absence, but who were you kidding. You were obvious. 

You leaned against the railing of the balcony, enjoying the fresh air. You lit up the joint and inhale the smoke, opening your phone to distract yourself. With smut. Hey, horny brain has a one track mind? You pull up your fanfiction recommendation blog, mainly used to store your favorites and save for later, for times like these. You scroll past the stories, each depraved tag and recollection of the smut's materials not seeming like enough. 

You clicked on the third story, entrenched in the words as you try to imagine the scene before you. The weed made your mind hazy. You didn't know how much time you had spent out here reading porn. The joint was already halfway finished.

You didn’t even notice the balcony door being open and shut behind you, finding yourself too engrossed in the words on your screen. Perhaps if you were sober, you’d have felt his presence behind you, eyes peering over your shoulder.

"What's sex pollen?"

You practically jumped out of your skin, squealing at the feeling of hot air against your ear. You spun around, lower back soon pressed against the railing as your space was invaded, to see Jimin, his red tinged eyes meeting yours. The one man here not impressed with your surprisingly high tolerance. Maybe because he of all people knew about deceiving appearances. He leaned in closer, far closer to you than he had ever been in the time you’ve spent with him and his friends. His chest was a mere few inches in front of yours, hands clasped against the railing beside yours, trapping you. The aphrodisiacs weren’t helping you, and you were feeling a certain type of way about having a handsome man so close to you.

"Jimin! What're you doing here?" Your heart pounded erratically in your chest, the anxiety overwhelming you at being caught.

"You've been out here for a while, the guys were getting worried about you," Jimin explained. A devious smirk formed on his lips. "Guess I should explain to them you're fine, just out here basically reading porn."

"I-I'm not-"

"Oh? What's sex pollen, then?" Jimin grabbed your phone, your reflexes too slow to stop him. He wore a shit eating grin as he watched your eyes flit between your phone and his face, unable to even process the beginning of your defeat. You were completely defenseless and stunned, not sure how to understand how he had beaten you so swiftly, or why he was particularly smug about it. You don't think he's ever smiled at you before, whether out of kindness or humor. This smile lacked both. This was a grin of enjoyment at the sight of you fussing and at his mercy. "Explain, Y/N."

You gulped. "I-It's just this like… trope.”

“Trope?” His thumb slides up the screen, the sentences scrolling by. “Seems pretty scandalous compared to your typical romance tropes. I don’t think I’ve heard of this one, before.”

“It’s more of a fanfiction trope than an actual literature trope…” 

“Oh? How’s it work, then? What’s so appealing about it?” Jimin’s amused expression was in stark juxtaposition to your flushed, embarrassed one.

“U-Um… it’s w-when the person gets affected by this pollen or something in general that makes them all... needy. And they need someone to take care of it for them."

“Take care of it how?”

You huffed, irritated with his teasing. “What do you think? You already know. It’s called sex pollen for a reason, quit teasing me.”

"Oh?" Jimin quirked up a brow, obviously pleased with your embarrassment and stammering. His hand came up to your throat, and there was a hitch in your breath. "But it’s so fun.”

“No it’s n-not-“ It was hard to keep your sentences structured well as Jimin tilted your head back, hand sliding further up to your jaw, making you lean back. Adrenaline pumped through you has your anxieties increased, all to aware of you dangling halfway off the railing at this height. 

“This trope of yours sounds very familiar. Taking aphrodisiacs, familiar.” His chuckle was taunting in your ear, his soft breath noticeable in the night air. “Hoping for something to happen, Y/N?”

"No, I-"

"Did you do it on purpose, sweetheart? Wanted one of us to take care of you? Put you out of your mercy and fuck you cause you need it so badly?" 

You gasped at his words, his hand gripping  your jaw, forcing you to look at him. Your back was still arched against the railing, and both of your hands clasped around Jimin's arm for support, afraid of both falling back and falling into him. His muscles felt so firm underneath your fingertips , and you tried not to think about how much you had missed the feeling of digits on your throat. Jimin's eyes flit over to your screen, going back to scroll through the stories you saved. He could probably feel your heartbeat against his fingerprints quicken as he delved deeper into your trove of dark and twisted fantasies. "Fuck, this is some really nasty shit, Y/N. You're into some depraved shit. Alpha/Omega? CNC? Step-siblings? Always knew you were a pervert. Bet you've thought about us gang banging you before, huh?"

His canines gleam in the dim light, taunting you. Your wide eyes met his with terror, and you whimpered in his hold.

"Fuck, Jimin, please please please don't tell them-" you pleaded.

"But how can I keep this to myself?" In horror, you watched his devious fingers tap against your phone screen, airdropping your blog of fanfiction collections to the rest of the house. He let you go, allowing you to catch your breath as he backed away from you. Fishing out his own phone, he accepted the request. He waved your own screen in front of your face, taunting you with your own powerlessness. You grab it from him, staring in horror as you see that three people accepted the airdrop. Fuck. It wasn't like you could even pretend it wasn't you, your name was attatched. The worst part is you didn't even know who accepted it, the names only being "iPhone".

You stared up at Jimin in horror, only to see his sadistic grin as he scrolls through your personal porn stash. "Don't worry, I'll make all your dirty fantasies come true," Jimin chuckled. "I’ll be a bit busy for now, though. Have to catch up on some light reading. Besides,” he turned towards the door, looking back to you with devious excitement. “You’re a big girl, I’ll let you take care of this by yourself.”

He left you alone on that balcony, gawking and trembling, wondering just what would happen if you were to step back in that house.

[just-your-average-author]

TIT RECAP/THOUGHTS

SPOILERS OBV

Okay so firstly the open PSA that Dan wrote about "no photos or videos if you do, I will sue your ass to the ground" and "no flash photography do you want Phil to fall off the stage...again?!?!?" killed me. it was so cute

preshow playlist, stunning, beautiful all around bops.

the sudden cut off of the music and lights to signal the show started, genuinely shocked and I was SAT let me tell you.

THEY CAME OUT AND THEY WERE REAL?!? NOT A SIMULATION?? listen I still can't get over that, I can't believe they were real people who look and sound exactly like they do on my tv at home!! I was so focused on them and soaking every moment in, I couldn't handle it

have I mentioned how attractive they are?!?!?

okay also literally Phil straight up STOPPED THE SHOW BECAUSE HE HAD TO SNEEZE AND DAN JUST STARED AND WAS LIKE PHIL WTF and I loved every second I was like yes this is straight up what they do in videos, let's have our little squirrel moment babes.

plus it made it feel even more silly and improv, overall I know obv they scripted a lot but it was sooo interactive and they ad libbed so much and I adored it

the dollhouse recap i swear wtf. first off, it was such a creative and fun idea and the different sets, and dressed up dolls that the clothes matched!! also okay I'm so sorry I had no idea the random sex positions would be a theme of the show so I was gobsmacked, but the 69ing during pinof??? "so we did what 2 closeted twinks did upon meeting each other for the first time.... put sharpie's cat whiskers on!!!" shut up for the love.

I genuinely loved the role model or no-el model segment. my show was in NC so they first option for Dan as the Mr. Lawyer was he bans ___ and someone said south carolina and they both just were rendered speechless and were like damn oh dear but laughing too.

The boxing match was so hot dear heavens, Dan's expression when Phil came out in the fake- *cough* I mean very real abs. He was acting for his LIFE.

the confessions were so good, just wish it lasted a little longer. the yapping was good and also idk if this was standardized but the whole thing where Phil said "I have a cute but also sociopathic thing going on and I think it's working for me 😌" like shut up you're so adorable

omg the quick change where they kept their mics on and narrated so many innuendos I was dying omg so silly and so funny I loved it. I was really impressed with how fast they changed, but also talked the whole time.

I loved every single solitary part of this show and I loved how they joked about how they were sorry we all went to school with whiskers then got out in the trash (cause yeah basically) and how they literally did raise us and should be blamed for us being feral not our actual legal guardians.

okay so. this show 9/10. here's where the last 1 point went.

please don't kill me, but I wasn't a fan of the song. I'm not entirely sure what it was, but the whole show was so raw and perfect and then the song was just really synthetic and overly autotuned where I personally didn't even hear their voices. like I couldn't tell who was singing which part. the ukulele part was cute, and I really hoped that would've been all of it, I guess the internet is here and interactive introverts and everything's fine just was so good you couldn't raise the bar again, but that was just my personal opinion, I know a lot of people loved the song and it was catchy and cute, I'm just not personally a fan of kpop/synthesized music so I was a little disappointed in the song but the dancing slapped so hard.

Dan flawlessly executing every move and strut and making eye contact with us while Phil very intentionally was focused on not tripping or walking off the stage and looking at Dan a few times to check if he was doing it right MY HEART.

cuties, gay, both of them, love them

overall I spent last night frantically calculating if I could afford to spontaneously go see the Nashville show as well and spend another 10 hours in the car today but regretfully thought against it.

[accidentally-in-fictional-love]

Susceptible - Jack Delroy/Reader

Warnings: Fully clothed grinding, very slight dirty talk, very light exhibitionism in a sense, no use of Y/N, female-hinted reader because of skirt/makeup mentions but other than that there's no real gender mention.

Wordcount: 4950

Summary: You spent a small fortune getting a ticket to Carmichael Haig's show on the promise of his new act showing his audience something the world has never seen before, as well as the possible attendance of one Jack Delroy, but will two hours of bullshit be worth the risk?

Notes: There is SO MUCH BUILDUP I'm so sorry I'm so weak for worldbuilding and plot I swear the other one I have planned will be shorter OTL I have never written a reader before but I am a huge fan of them, especially the DDverse ones I've been binging oop, so I hope this is a good first attempt! It's been a few years since I've written anything like this and probably a good decade or so since I last posted anything, so here's hoping I post more in the upcoming future~ This is also completely unbetaed so if you see any mistakes please let me know <3 The Manhattan Center is also real but didn't fit my needs entirely so I mashed it together with the theatre I went to as a kid lol

~~~~~~~~~~

Carmichael Haig was back in town and you had no idea why you were here. 

He had left for what felt like both forever and not nearly long enough for a few months to do his tour, seeing his smug face everywhere you looked between both digital and paper news and making your distaste grow a little more each time. You had been fond of his trickery for a time, but his move from magic man to skeptic had sucked all the fun out of the act, his determination to not only find the real but humiliate the fakes way past annoying to straight up sickening to you by this point. Tonight’s show proved to be another big presentation of the latter you’d decided when it’d been announced officially, promoted by your favourite talk show host - and current celebrity crush - Jack Delroy; his smile was wide for the cameras but it didn’t reach his eyes, you could always tell between them by now and he did not seem to be as pleased as the two talked about it that night.

‘I’m going to show the world something they’ve never seen before,’ Carmichael had said, his usual smug look in place as he hammed it up for the cameras like he could really pull that off, Jack running with it like the patron saint of patience he had to be.

‘Big talk, you sure I can’t convince you to give our wonderful audience a taste tonight?’ he asked, the crowd cheering at the mere thought of getting to experience his new act an entire month early, but if there was even an iota of temptation within him to share he hid it perfectly. He waved the offer away to everyone’s disappointment, Jack pouting on everyone’s behalf and putting those big eyes on display as his own plea; the ratings, you imagined, would be wonderful for a segment like this when his show was already starting to slip down the line, but even that was no use.

‘You’ll all get a chance to see it on the 13th,’ he promised them as he turned to face the audience, the place and date scrolling across the bottom of the screen yet again, they’d been flashing it every single time it was mentioned to the point where you were sure you’d see it in your sleep tonight, rolling across the bottom half of your dream. ‘Or, those of you who’ve been able to get your tickets will, we’re selling out fast,’ he smirked with a tip of his glass, yet another thing that’d been brought up and hammered home; you’d gone to the Manhattan Center to check a couple days ago, just out of curiosity, the ticket price absolutely ridiculous to the point that you were convinced they’d never sell out, but now you guessed your distaste of him wasn’t as widespread as you’d secretly hoped.

Jack slapped his leg in mock disappointment, Carmichael looking back to him at the sound. ‘Guess you’ll have to tell me all about it the next time you’re back in town, I had asked Gus to pick one up for me but it seems he missed that call,’ he joked, Gus’ surprise at the blame of his absence being placed on him getting a big laugh as his face fell and he tried to explain himself. 

Carmichael placed an understanding hand on Jack’s shoulder and leaned in closer, the other man leaning in in return as if to receive some kind of secret. ‘Well then, it’s a good thing my date canceled on me,’ he retorted, and when he pulled his hand back he revealed a ticket, Jack’s eyes going wide as he accepted the gift with a big smile, pointing to it before shaking Carmichael’s hand with a thanks.

Ah, so that was why you were here again.

You knew you’d never be able to get a seat on Night Owls because the thought of Jack seeing you in the crowd made you blush all the way to your shoulders, even on your bravest of nights you hadn’t been able to even call and see if there were any tickets left, but to maybe share an audience with him? To sit in the same room as him where you could steal glances if you were able to find him, with no risk whatsoever of him catching the way your eyes lit up when you looked at that handsome face, that dangerously attractive body? That was doable. 

It had cost an arm and a leg to convince that scalper to hand over one of the tickets he was parading around outside the Center, but it was worth it as you stepped inside, your heart racing because, unless he wanted to risk the aftermath of Carmichael calling him out for not going, he was here; somewhere in this building was the man you’d been dreaming about since his debut a few years ago, the one you watched nearly every night without fail just for that hour where he looked at you, talked to you, noticed you even if it was through a camera, and that was all you’d needed until tonight.

You’d gotten a pretty shitty seat despite the price but you didn’t mind, it actually worked out for you considering you weren’t actually there to see the show but to look for someone in the seats in front of you, and you hoped that you’d be able to spot him from where you were in the far back corner. As long as he wasn’t, say, the exact opposite of you then you probably stood a chance of at least a glance, since his ticket came from Carmichael himself you guessed that it was probably close to the front if not front row center just to mess with him and prove that he’d come, and you felt all the hair rise on your arms and neck when Carmichael walked on stage early to very loudly greet someone who’d just walked in.

There he was, leaving his seat to meet the other man in the middle, and he was so much further than you expected but it was still him, big smile in place, hair perfectly combed, his crisp suit being wrinkled by Carmichael’s hands as he gave him a showy hug, and he was beautiful. You froze in the middle of the row, unable to finish the walk as your eyes stayed on him, the people trying to get by you not as starstruck as they attempted to squeeze past when you ignored their presence.

‘Sorry,’ you murmured as you sat as fast as you could, eyes still trained on him as he waved to the crowd to prove that yes, he did honour the gift and was there to see this big new act he’d been promised. You let out an embarrassingly needy whine when he sat back down and you became unable to see him again, the mass of bodies behind him obscuring all but a sliver of the back of his head from this angle, and you’d be damned if you had to spend the next 2 hours stuck like this at a Carmichael Haig show of all things. The person at the end of the row finally arrived and you made your move, hurrying down and taking one last glance before getting ready to make this whole thing a little more bearable. ‘Excuse me,’ you nearly stuttered as the person, a man older than yourself who definitely gave off the air of being a Carmichael fan, looked up at you, ‘would you want to trade seats with me? I was really looking forward to the show but I was too late to grab an aisle seat.’

It’s a blatant lie but the quick glance from before proved that you could see him better from there, and the chance of getting to look at him for the next two hours was worth the look the man gave you at the request.

‘Which one are you?’ he asked, looking down to the few empty spaces still waiting for their owners, and you pulled out your ticket to double check, seeing that it was R51; wow, you didn’t realize how far away R was from A until you saw it firsthand. He looked back down to your seat and considered it, looking you over midthought when he thought you weren’t looking, and he almost got away with it if not for the fact that you felt his eyes on you. ‘$100,’ he decided, the offer knocking the wind right out of you.

‘What? The seat was already $350,’ you choke, giving away the fact that you were really, really late to the party.

‘Take it or leave it, I had the sense to order on time,’ is all he says to that, and you looked back at your possible view before sighing heavily and reaching for your wallet; goddamnit, Jack, if only he knew how worth it he was. You hand over the money and step aside, the man pocketing his fee and leaving the seat for you as promised, and the view is just barely better but there he is again, perfectly in view due to what can only be a miracle, the hole in your wallet feeling a little less big as you watched him turn his head to talk to someone, giving you a perfect side view.

He really was handsome, captivating even from this distance, and you swoon a little as the audience finished filling out, the lights dimming and obscuring your view a little more save the grace of the stage lights that illuminate him from the front as Carmichael walked back out on stage and started the show. You’d never been one for spacing out but you couldn’t take your eyes off him, the $450 price tag of this shitty aisle seat all for him and not feeling so bad even as Carmichael charms everyone around you. He didn’t look to the side that often, you guessed he didn’t actually know his neighbour since the seat was a gift, but the times that he did, where he laughed or sighed at the theatrics or even put his face in his hand because he wasn’t having too much fun, were all cataloged away in your head forever, the perfect souvenirs to last you a lifetime of home viewing after this. 

At about an hour in according to your old watch, Jack looked about ready to get up and find any reason to leave, which you couldn’t blame him for, the acts themselves were pretty damn good you realized in the times you actually paid attention, but it was getting so tiring to see Carmichael explain away all of their tricks, to see the joy leave their faces at being called a fraud or having all their mysteries revealed, and it was clear Jack felt the same down in row A. After a particularly rough walk-off from a woman who was trying very desperately to convince Carmichael that she could really read his mind and ending up with the humiliating reality that everything he answered to was false to get her to out herself, you noticed that when you looked back to his seat that Jack isn’t there, and you were in the middle of wondering where he went when the person coming up the aisle came into view so suddenly that it took your breath away.

It was Jack, his brow twitching slightly to keep a neutral face, his footsteps heavy as he tried not to stomp and draw attention to the fact that that last one really pissed him off, his hands already reaching into his suit pocket for something. You tried not to stare the closer he got but it was hard, years of being able to look all you want training your brain to look look look as he approached, and you forced yourself to stare straight ahead at the stage as he reached you. Your hands were clenched tight in your lap as he went to pass row R, and you were in the middle of thinking you were going to make it when he fumbled the small box in his pocket and dropped it with a low curse, the cigarettes he apparently smoked bouncing to the side and coming to a stop between your recently shined shoes.

Your head snapped down so fast you felt it in your neck as he came to a stop beside you, the two of you locating the box at the same time, and you stiffened as he reached for it before realizing how rude that would be despite his own sour mood. ‘I’m sorry, could I bother you for a second,’ he asked, his smile back in place despite being a bit tense, and you stuttered out a confirmation as you leaned down to pick them up.

‘I didn’t know you smoked,’ you blurted out before you could stop yourself, Jack’s hand frozen in midair as he reached for the box, his smile relaxing a little as he looked from your hand to your face.

‘Did I find myself a Night Owl in this sea of skeptics?’ he wondered aloud, your cheeks brightening in a way that really made you pray it was dark enough not to notice. 

‘I wanted to see what all the fuss was about,’ you lie, and he crouched down so he could hear your whispers as the crowd reacted to the next act.

‘I take it you’re also not very impressed,’ he figured, hitting the nail on the head based on your expression alone. He chuckled at your silent confirmation and looked back down to the cigarettes, his fingertips just barely touching yours as you both held it, you didn’t even know when he’d grabbed it and you let go before it got awkward, but he didn’t seem to notice. ‘Well, if you don’t tell my producer that I’m smoking again, then I won’t tell Haig that you didn’t like his show, deal?’

You sucked in a breath as he moved the box to his left hand, offering up his right for a handshake this time to seal the deal, your heart pounding as you shook on it, his smile more genuine than you’d seen all night, you could always tell. He stood back up as the act finished and Carmichael went back to his disproving, his mood dropping again as his need to escape rearose. You both offered a look of disdain at the stage before he stood back up to move again, something stopping him midstep before he turned on his heel and leaned back down to you, a shiver running down your spine at how close he was so he could be heard.

‘Have you ever been to one of my shows?’ he asked, genuine curiosity in his voice, his warm breath accidentally hitting your neck and rendering you unable to do anything but glance at him and shake your head no. ‘You’d have a much better time, I’ve got some great stuff coming up,’ he pitched, either completely unaware of your predicament or just used to people acting like this around him, either way he didn’t react when your eyes couldn’t help but flicker down to watch him lick his lips so fast you almost missed it. ‘The next one’s already booked up but if you go down to the studio and give them this card, you should be able to get a spot for a night you’re free, I'd like to see you there.’

He pulled out his wallet and grabbed a business card, flipping it around to the blank side on the back before resting it on the arm of the chair. A pen was found next, and he scribbled a quick note to the ticket seller on it on your behalf, signing it and handing it over with that big showman smile of his. You took it and placed it in your own wallet, the previous hole instantly filled with its presence, his mood clearly raised by the interaction as he wished you a quick goodbye and resumed his journey outside, oblivious to the fact that you were about to disrupt the entire theater if you didn’t find a place to scream and fast. 

You gave him a few minutes to reach the doors before jumping to your feet and making for the bathroom, your heels clickclacking on the tile the entire way until you found the correct door. The place was empty, which was great because once you caught sight of yourself you knew that it was bad enough he saw you this way, no one else should get the pleasure; your face was redder than you’d ever seen it, your pupils blown from the exchange and you could’ve sworn you could actually see yourself shaking you were buzzing so hard, your grin so wide anyone else would’ve assumed that Santa had just given you the toy you’d always wanted for Christmas early. 

You tried to calm yourself as you ripped off some paper towels and dampened them, patting them against your cheeks and neck to bring your body temperature back down to a normal person’s, carefully avoiding your makeup that you were thankful you spent the time putting on just on the ultra rare off chance you’d run into him. When you were ready to go back - and after a quick internal debate on whether you should try and meet him outside for another, less hushed conversation already - you made sure to calm your breathing before heading back out there, taking a quick moment to look for him before making the trek back to your seat. 

When you got back you noticed that no new act was on, Carmichael already talking to the audience and projecting himself up on the screens for all to see, you rolling your eyes as you collapsed into the rich red velvet and preparing for more of his bullshit until Jack returned, if he felt like it that was. Everyone around you was concentrating on his words, staring right ahead as the theater fell silent save for his voice and the sound of a ticking clock; ah, he was trying to hypnotize everyone, that must’ve been his big final act that he’d promised his audience. You weren’t impressed, you’d tried to be hypnotized before at a party in your youth, it hadn’t worked then so it wasn’t going to work now you knew, so you sat back and prepared to at least enjoy whatever he was going to make the audience do.

Your thoughts went back to Jack as Carmichael’s voice slowly got drowned out, the ticking a bit louder in your ears despite the distance, but you didn’t mind because it was nonsense anyway, ‘Now who’s the skeptic,’ you think to yourself as you sink deeper into your chair. You vaguely heard the words, ‘Your greatest desire,’ in your ear before you felt a hand on your shoulder, your eyes leaving the stage to travel up until you saw Jack standing just behind you in the aisle, his smile from before now more like a smirk as he motioned towards the doors like he wanted you to follow him. 

You looked back at the stage as Carmichael invited someone from the audience up to stand with him, some poor hypnotized fool who was bound to be humiliated along with everyone else who stood with him tonight, and you decided that you’d rather not see that again before standing and following Jack. There was a small hallway between the theater and the doors on that side of the back wall, the two of you out of view from everyone else but Carmichael’s voice still reaching, and you were about to wonder if he was leading you outside to just leave or talk when he turned and pushed you against the wall with a muffled thud. Your back met cold paint as your chest met with his, your eyes locking as he cornered you where no one could see, a confidence he saved for the cameras now focused solely on you as he looked you over the same way you’d done to him a thousand times over. 

‘I couldn’t wait for you to come to my show,’ he whispered, his voice impossibly low as he held you in place, a knee parting yours and making you gasp, ‘you’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.’

‘You’re just telling me what I wanna hear,’ you managed to get out, his eyes closing as he leaned in to grin against your cheek.

‘Is it working?’

You didn’t dare answer but you might as well have because your silence was enough to spur him into action, your head falling back against the wall as he started to kiss your neck, your hands grasping at anything because this was crazy. The man you’d wanted for years was kissing you not even 30ft away from a room full of people, anyone could come around the corner at any second and catch you, and you bit your lip at the thrill of it all. You’d had dreams like this before, ones that left you panting into your pillow when you awoke, but the real thing was so much better as he sucked a mark into your soft skin, your hand leaving his arm to cover your mouth lest you alert anyone within hearing distance to your current predicament.

You let him do as he pleased, let him ran his hands over your sides and down to the edge of where your lifted skirt was resting against his thigh, your legs shaking as your body tried not to grind against him; it was only due to him holding you that kept you standing as a matter of fact and he seemed fully aware of it as his nails scratched softly against your bare leg. He seemed to love all your reactions to what he did, he was in the entertainment business after all, every noise of approval that slipped through your fingers must’ve been like music to his ears but you had to hold back no matter how much you wanted to indulge him. Being denied what he wanted only made him work harder for it, the assault on your neck moving to your shoulder and collarbone instead of your covered lips, your mouth watering for just a taste as he started to move against you, one hand pulling your waist away from the wall by your lower back as the other moved up and under your skirt.

The first grind of his body against yours was decadent, you swore you could feel it in your soul the way he wanted you just as much as you’d wanted him, like he’d been watching you back through the screen for years and also craved this very moment, and now that he was getting it he wasn’t going to stop, you didn’t want him to stop. You’d never seen him act anything like this before in all his years on TV, a greedy flash of excitement running through you at getting to see such a new side of him quickly overcome by pleasure as he cupped your ass and pulled you even closer. You knew you couldn’t get undressed here, if you’d made it to the bathroom then maybe he’d be doing more but he hadn’t lasted even that long, but even with that desire being restrained you still wanted him here and now. Never in your life had you been this desperate for release but he was bringing out a demon inside of you that desired and needed and wanted so much that you were willing to throw your modesty out the fucking window for just a second of his hot skin pressed against your own, but this would have to do while the show still went on.

‘Jack…’ you moaned as your hand, moist from your panting, gripped his arm once again, Carmichael’s voice getting louder in the distance as you grew closer to your release.

‘Come home with me,’ he begged into your ear, his movements getting rougher as he also grew close, you knew you’d both have to leave before everyone saw you but it was worth it, god it was so worth it. ‘I want to have you all to myself, I need to taste you-’

You bit your lip and led his face away from your neck so you could look into his eyes, his mouth parted as he tried to control his own panting, he was coming apart at the seams for you right here in the hallway, the ticking in your ears either your heartbeat or a clock far away. You moaned his name again as you felt the heat build in your stomach, your back arching and pushing your body into him even more as the door to your right opened.

‘Dreamer, here, awake!’

All at once your knees gave out and you collapsed to the floor before that final wave could push you over the edge, your head heavy and your vision swimming as the body against yours vanished into nothing. ‘Are you okay? What happened?’ Jack’s voice from above asked as his worried expression came into view, the smell of rain and cigarette smoke invading your senses; the sound of the audience in a similar state of confusion drifted around the corner as Jack crouched down next to you, just back inside from his break from the show, the realization that you weren’t as immune to hypnosis as you’d thought hitting you like a bucket of cold water. You just panted in shock, surprise, and waning lust as Jack looked you over in concern, your hands moving to pull the bottom of your skirt down to cover your exposed legs in embarrassment, the scratches you were so certain he’d left behind not there, because he hadn’t been there.

‘I’m fine,’ you force yourself to say after you’d caught your breath, Jack believing you but still helping you to your feet like a gentleman, of course he would never act that way, that was only how you’d wanted him to act, you’d had dreams like that for god’s sake, the real Jack would never-

‘Is the show over?’ he asked as the roar of people applauding overtook the chatter, Carmichael now silent, and you avoided his eye as you started to edge towards the way out.

‘I think so.’

‘What was the big mind-blowing act?’

You put a little distance between yourself and him but he didn’t notice, Jack heading for the corner so he could look at the stage as he waited for your reply. ‘He hypnotized everyone,’ you answered curtly, his reaction big and full of surprise as he looked over the size of the crowd in an awe that wasn’t present for the first hour and a half.

‘Everyone? You should’ve come found me, I would’ve loved to see that.’ He was still looking at the room beyond, your eyes on him as he watched everyone else.

‘I got a little overwhelmed,’ you mumble, and he finally looked at you with that same concerned expression again, and it’s too much after what you’d just thought you’d seen, your eyes finding the floor.

‘What did he make you see?’ he asked, his curiosity quiet but still there under the concern, but you couldn’t answer him. ‘Do you need a ride home, or are you okay to drive?’

He’s too kind, he would never act that way, he would never say that to you.

‘I took a cab, I’ll be fine,’ you tried to say, but still you quickly found yourself being led to the front door as the audience swarmed around you, his hand on your back to make sure you stayed standing, a true gentleman. It had started raining while you were inside which explained the scent pairing with the smoke that covered up his cologne, and you just stood under the marquee as he hailed a cab for you as the sea of skeptics washed around you like rushing water. You hopped inside but he didn’t shut the door right away, leaning down in the rain once you were seated, and for a moment you wondered if he was going to get in when he spoke.

‘I do hope you come to my show, preferably Friday’s, it’s gunna be a good one, I promise,’ he said with that big genuine smile again, your heart pounding as your cheeks glowed red for a reason other than embarrassment as you gave him a small nod.

‘I’ll be there,’ you promised back, and he tapped the roof of the cab before shutting the door and letting you go. You looked out the back window as you drove away, the both of you waving as he ducked back inside and out of the rain, and as soon as you turned back around to face forward you found yourself reaching for your wallet. His card was in your hands as you looked it over, all in all it was an uninspiring, plain business card, and you flipped it over to read what he wrote for the ticketmaster on the back.

Wait for me by the back entrance at 11:00 Phil will let you in JD

Your cheeks turned red again as you put the card away, the cab driver giving you a look in the rearview mirror as you held your nearly empty wallet, now with one business card, to your thumping chest. Oh yeah, it definitely was all worth it after all.

[cheezeybread]

Hi! Can I request how Leona, Trey, Ruggie and Cater would react to a male reader flirting with them two seconds after meeting them? (I imagine Leona's segment being especially comical since the player's first interaction with him involves him threatening us)

YAY, a request! So psyched for this >:) My first thought was of those terrible pick-up lines people use off of Google, ehehe-

Tw// None...maybe a swear or two, but mostly funny things, I swear! :)

𝐌𝐚𝐥e 𝙍𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙚𝙧 𝐟𝐥𝐢𝐫𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐈𝐌𝐌𝐄𝐃𝐈𝐀𝐓𝐄𝐋𝐘 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐨𝐢𝐬

𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐅𝐥𝐢𝐫𝐭𝐞𝐫??

𝙁𝙩: 𝙇𝙚𝙤𝙣𝙖, 𝙍𝙪𝙜𝙜𝙞𝙚, 𝙏𝙧𝙚𝙮, 𝘾𝙖𝙩𝙚𝙧

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

𝐋𝐄𝐎𝐍𝐀 𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒𝐂𝐇𝐎𝐋𝐀𝐑

He's so confused at first

Like, he was just taking a nap in the gardens when this herbivore came out of NOWHERE and stepped on his tail, or course he's mad! But then when he gets up and starts to threaten this nobody, he starts flirting with him???

"Oh, excuse me! Where you laying on the ground because you just fell from heaven?" "WHAT."

He gets caught off guard by this, obviously, and can't even think straight! But after a few small stammered words, he manages to collect himself once more and finishes his half-baked physical threats before storming off

Of course, he'd be lying if he said that this didn't install just a liiiiittle hint of curiosity in him. Curiosity killed the cat, after all! Even though he's not one to stalk and find out everything about this flirter, he'll find out some things through listening to people chatting in his classes, in the hallways, and just in general. Apparently this guy that tried to flirt with him wasn't just a nobody herbivore, it was a MAGIC-LESS nobody! The very same one that came in during their orientation and caused such a big ruckus!

He ain't gonna do nothing with this information at first, of course. But one of two things can happen.

1) If you try flirting with him subtly, he ain't gonna notice. He'll chalk it up to you being "friendly" or whatever it is well-liked people do

2) BUT if you keep flirting with him in the same obvious manner, he's gonna catch those feelings sooner or later (starting right after his little overblotting incident ;) ), so keep up the good work!

●○●○●○●○●○●

𝐑𝐔𝐆𝐆𝐈𝐄 𝐁𝐔𝐂𝐂𝐇𝐈

In the crowded cafeteria, he thought that he just misheard you, so he had to ask you to repeat what you said

"Wow, what beautiful eyes you have...all the better to see me with, huh? ;)"

Bro is immediately flustered by this dude stepping in between him and Grim that he drops Leona's sandwich, which causes Grim to simultaneously drop the food he got in the trade. Don't worry, though, Ruggie caught the sandwich!!

Ruggie is the type to get so flustered and embarrassed when anybody tries to flirt/say anything nice to him that he gets red in the face and starts laughing nervously

"Sheeheeheheh- gotta go, heehee, s-sorry, thanks for the sandwich, kitty, eehee-"

And with that, he runs off, sandwich in hand and face still beet red

That still doesn't stop him from doing his dastardly plans regarding the Spelldrive tournament...it just means that he's a little more wary of you (He's a little nervous around you, low-key. I mean, someone that compliments him like THAT, and Ruggie is trying to think of what the ulterior motive is here!)

It'll take a while, but eventually he gets it through his head that there IS no ulterior motive! Badabing-badaboom, you now have a super-loyal hyena by your side!

Bro isn't going anywhere.

●○●○●○●○●○●

𝐓𝐑𝐄𝐘 𝐂𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐑

This is the only dude in the entire school who is normal and has normal relationships, pretty much.

His first assessment of the flirting is just that maybe that's how you are. Some people are shy, some are outgoing, and some are overly-flirtatious!

So he takes it in stride, and even flirts back with you!

"A baker, huh? Explains why you're so warm and sweet!"

"Hehe, and what are you, a pastry? I feel like I'm gonna need to brush my teeth after talking to you, you're so sugary sweet."

Overall, not fazed at all!

But this does make him like you all the more! He liked the bold nature (it was a breath of fresh air after being stuck in this dorm with emotionally-distant punks!)

He's sure to stick close to you whenever he sees you. Oh, you're heading to class? He'll walk you there. Passing by in the hallway? You're greeted with a soft smile and an eager greeting.

He'll also use you as a taste-tester! Trey enjoys the time he gets to be with you, and it also doesn't hurt to practice his back-and-forth flirting banter! Be careful, though, or one day you'll notice that it'll cease to be friendly fire and verges more on the edge of "man, two dudes in a kitchen, maybe we should just go ahead and kiss or something"

●○●○●○●○●○●

𝐂𝐀𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐃𝐈𝐀𝐌𝐎𝐍𝐃

He absolutely doesn't take you seriously at first.

I mean, come on, he's CATER DIAMOND, social media god! Hearthrob over Magicam! He's received plenty of flirts both on the screen and in real life!

BUT he does give you an absolute shit-ton of compliments back

"What are you doing here, pretty boy? Painting flowers? Because it seems more like you've just painted my heart <3"

"Hah! Thanks, sweet thing, you ain't too bad yourself! Watch yourself, or you might get one of those pretty little hands pricked by a thorn"

I mean, later on, when he's about to go to sleep, he'll rethink the whole situation...wait, WERE you actually flirting with him? I mean, it didn't seem like you flirted with anyone else in the Heartslabyul...

He'll totally try and stalk your social media (but, of course, he'll fail at that because you don't HAVE any social media because you're not from this world!)...after that, he'll have to search for information about you irl (the horror!)

Asking around with the students, the teachers, listening for any new gossip, Cater will try and find out every little thing about the mysterious being that is you! He's not a creep about it, I promise, he just wants to find out if you're the type to flirt flippantly or seriously

In the end, he'll just straight-up ask you if you were /j or /srs with him then

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

[libbys-braincell-loss]

i became inspired so heres a silly oneshot smg34 fic that also includes mario and meggy

---

This fic includes:

snowtrapped reference. Sorry yall </3

shitty grammar whenever mario speaks

---

SMG43 crush frustrations, a 2 1/2 part oneshot

---

Segment 1: SMG4 and Mario

---

SMG4 sits at his desk, making videos, as per usual. Working hard to appease the hell that is the YouTube algorithm, all that good stuff.

SMG4 is just focused on working on making a decent video, trying his hardest to work in peace.

Suddenly, the door breaks down for the 17th time this week (it's tuesday), and SMG4's idiot best friend Mario bursts in to disturb said peace.

"ES EM GEE FOUR" he yells, startling his friend.

SMG4 sighs. "Hey, Mario, what do you need?"

"I just wanted to see what you were doing :))" Mario replies.

"I'm just making videos, that's all," SMG4 says, attempting to regain focus on making the video. "I gotta finish as much as I can before I have to hang out with SMG3 later today"

"Ooooo, watcha gonna be doin?"

"3's just gonna be streaming the two of us messing around on Gmod. I think he wants to play prop hunt?"

"Mario played that one time with him. He's too good at it," Mario recalls.

"Heh, as if. He only won cuz he was against you," SMG4 exclaims. "He won't stand a chance going against me."

Mario peeks over the chair and observes SMG4 making his video.

"Can Mario help???" Mario asks.

"Hahaha, no," said SMG4. "You don't know shit about editing."

"Lol ur right, im just bored af and wanted to do something" Mario says, eyes crossing. "What video you makin"

"I'm remastering an old video called 'Charming Peach'; people seem to like when I make remasters of old videos," SMG4 responds.

"Oooooooooo" says Mario. "Can I suggest a video idea?"

"Y'know what, sure. Go ahead."

"Snowtrapped remaster :))))"

SMG4's eyes widen. He turns and looks at Mario in the crossed eyes and humongous mustache.

"Hell no!"

"Hell yeah :)"

"Why would you suggest that?! I'm not doing that!"

"Why not?"

SMG4 blinks. "Why do you think?"

Mario shrugs. "Because it's too cold?"

SMG4 face palms. "I forgot; you don't think."

"Awww :(" Mario frowns. "Thats mean :(("

"Dude, SMG3 and I literally have sex in that episode."

"And?"

SMG4 blinks.

Mario blinks in return.

"AND WE WOULD RATHER DIE THAN REMAKE THAT? What do you want me to say?" SMG4 exclaims.

"You didn't enjoy it?" Mario asks.

SMG4's face turns bright red. "MARIO!! Why the hell would you ask that?!"

Mario blinks. He grins. "You're avoiding the question"

"I'm not answering the question. I'm not remaking Snowtrapped, period. SMG3 and I could never relive those events again."

Mario blinks one eye after the other, like a frog.

"Do you like him?" Mario asks out of the blue.

"Huh??" SMG4 says, red creeping on his face.

"Do you like SMG3?" Mario asks.

"I mean, yeah... as a... friend, of course."

"Hmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm..." Mario's eyes narrow, and his head widens as he stares directly into SMG4's soul. "Mario doesn't buy it."

"What? What do you mean?!"

"I think you are gay :)"

"No. Also can you stop talking in emoticons?" SMG4 sighs.

"Come on!! I'm pretty sure you like him in a gay way"

"Why do you have to say it like that?"

"huh"

"...Nevermind. No, I don't like him like that." SMG4 chuckles, like he's trying to gaslight himself into believing the words he says. "Why would I? He berates me every day, I can't stand him sometimes... Why would I be in love with someone who constantly tries to do some bullshit to piss me off?"

"But when you do get along, what then?"

SMG4 opens his mouth to speak, but no words came out.

"I just... I..."

Mario smiles really wide. "Youuuu liiikkkeee himmmm!"

"Mario, quit it!"

"Youuu dooooo :)"

"MARIO!"

"Youuuu likeee yourr rivaaaaalll :)))))"

SMG4 sighs, tired of trying to convince Mario otherwise. "Fine, you caught me. Yes, I may or may not have developed a crush on SMG3..."

Mario gasps with the utmost glee in his eyes.

"I KNEW IT!"

"Yeah, but you BETTER NOT TELL A SOUL!!" SMG4 puts a firm hand on Mario's shoulder and points at him aggressively.

Mario frowns. "you're no fun"

"Yeah, yeah, whatever. I just don't want word to spread and for SMG3 to find out. Then he will really hate me, and not in the joking way he usually does."

"You think he hates you?" Mario tilts his head

"...Not really, but..."

"Then tell him!" Mario says.

"Haha, hell no. He is my rival, and even though we're able to... tolerate... each other for enough time, but SMG3 is very keen to remind me that we are 'rivals', and refuses to admit that we are friends, no matter how much we get close to admitting we are friends."

SMG4 looks down. "I do really like him, I just... I have no way of knowing if he does like me at all, and if he is being serious when he shit talks me. Maybe he thinks and talks about how stupid I am when I'm not hanging out with him. He probably hates me, with how much he berates me. Why would I want someone who hates me?"

Mario blinks. "You are dumping all this info on someone who has zero advice for you" he says.

SMG4 smiles sadly. "My bad. I just... it's been eating me up inside, I just wanted to vent about it."

"Its ok :) mario can try to give advice if you want!" Mario says.

SMG4 sighs. "Go ahead."

"Mario thinks that if SMG3 hated you so much, he wouldn't go out of his way to be around you"

"Huh? What do you mean?"

"He frequently shows up to hang out with you, he saves you, he talks about you a lot..."

"Wait, he does?"

"Yeah! I was waiting to get a bomb at his coffee shop and he was in a corner writing in his journal again, and he was saying everything he was writing out loud; he was saying 'I'm excited to hang out with smg4 tomorrow, we gonna play some gmod together and im totally gonna beat his ass at prop hunt, hes gonna be so mad itll be so funny, seeing his face so angry is so entertaining-' and then he stopped writing cuz he saw me waiting for my bomb order and he shoo'd me out of there and i didn't get my bomb"

SMG4 blushes. "Huh. So, he does shit talk me outside of my earshot, but in a positive way..." He smiles ear to ear. "Mario, honestly, I cannot believe I'm saying this, but your advice actually helped. I think my intrusive thoughts were just trying to lie to me. I needed to hear that."

"Yay! Mario's glad he could help :)" Mario says, smiling. "This is my character development! I am therapist :)"

SMG4 chuckles. "Mario, I would not trust you as a therapist 100% of the time."

Mario smirks. "But you can trust SMG3 as your therapist-"

SMG4 punches Mario's arm "Shush. This stays between us, okay?"

"yeah B) i gotchu"

"Thanks, man."

---

Segment 2: SMG3 and Meggy

---

Meggy steps into SMG3's coffee shop, 3's Coffee and Bombs. The cafe was very empty, there was little to no people there.

"Hello? SMG3?" she calls out.

SMG3 pops out from the kitchen.

"Ah, Meggy! Welcome to 3's Coffee and Bomb's!" SMG3 exclaims with a grand flourish. "How may I serve you?"

"Hey dude, I came here two days ago," Meggy says, deadpan. "You don't need to make a grand spectacle everytime I show up."

"Yeah, yeah. What'll it be? Coffee or bombs?"

"I'd like some coffee today. I think I'm gonna go for some black coffee today."

"Daring today, aren't we?" SMG3 says, in a sarcastic tone.

"Look, I'm trying to expand my horizons. Try new things. Every time I drink coffee, it's sweet as hell. I'mma take something bitter for once."

"If you say so," SMG3 says.

SMG3 makes Meggy her coffee and Meggy gives him his money. SMG3's watch beeps.

"Oh! Looks like it's break time!" he says.

"Nice! Care to join me?" Meggy suggests.

"Sure, why not," SMG3 says, shrugging. He makes himself some coffee of his own and sits at a table across from Meggy.

"I heard you have plans on doing a stream collab with SMG4 today," Meggy comments. "You guys are playing Gmod, right?"

"Yeah!" SMG3 sips his coffee. "I'm gonna kick his ass in prop hunt. He will be so pissed."

"Haha, I see," Meggy says, taking a sip of her coffee. She spits it back into the cup.

"Rude," SMG3 frowns.

"It's not that you're bad at making coffee, it's that black coffee isn't the right coffee for me," Meggy responds, also frowninh. "Don't take so much offense to everything."

"Welp." SMG3 leans back in his chair. "I'm excited. I can't wait to absolutely destroy his ass in games I'm goated at."

"Aren't you just happy you get to hang out with 4?" Meggy remarks.

"...Hanging out with him to make him look like a loser on stream, yes!" SMG3 responds.

Meggy smirks. "I think you do enjoy his company."

SMG3 studies a speck on the ceiling. "Says who?"

"Says me. I know you like him."

SMG3's face immediately turns bright red.

"NUH UH!" SMG3 exclaims. "He's stupid and a moron and a loser! W-why would I be attracted to a- a loser like him?!"

Meggy looks him dead in the eye. "I was gonna say opposites attract, but you guys are both oblivious AND obvious dumbasses, so you guys have more in common than you like to admit."

SMG3 looks away. "I don't like him. He probably hates me, with how much I berate him. Why would I want someone who hates me?"

Meggy smiles.

"3, I think 4 is just as in love with you as you are with him."

"What makes you think I like him?" quizzes SMG3.

"Oh, you constantly talk about how excited you are to do anything with him, you pout when he's not around, and you're usually the first person to try to instigate helping him as soon as he's in trouble," Meggy recounts.

SMG3 blushes. "We're Meme Guardians; if one of us isn't around, our powers are very minimal. I'm just looking out for him because I don't know what happens to one Meme Guardian the moment his counterpart is dead, and I don't want to find out."

"Awww, you care about him!" Meggy smiles.

"Just talk to him, dumbass," Meggy said. "He usually functions better once people communicate their issues with him. If you ask if you take things too far, and if he feels hurt by your words, talking it out is the right thing."

"Shush. So what if I do? He would never like me back. He probably can't stand me. I berate and belittle him too much. I know, I know, it's bad, but... I don't know how to communicate appreciation to people I care about. Teasing is all I know, but I never know if I've pushed it's limit-"

"But that's so difficult! I'm no good at communication!" SMG3 complains.

"You're a therapist! This is the type of advice you give your patients!" Meggy responds.

"I'm a hypocrite!" SMG3 wails.

"Look, just talk to him at some point. Maybe after the stream is over, just take some time out of your day to figure out how SMG4 feels about your constant teasing, then go from there."

"Yeah. Y'know what, I'll keep that in mind. Thanks Meggy."

"No problem! And, while you're at it, you should totally go for it!" Meggy exclaims, beaming.

"Meggy..." SMG3 sighs.

"I know you like him, you can't keep hiding."

SMG3 groans even louder.

"Yes, but you tell no one, okay?" SMG3 orders.

"Of course," Meggy says, smiling.

---

SMG4 and SMG3 are up in SMG4's office, playing and streaming Gmod shenanigans. Mario is sitting on the couch in the gaming room, watching TV. Meggy comes in and joins Mario on the couch.

"SMG4 and SMG3 can't be any more obvious, can they?" she remarks.

"they gay as hell," Mario agrees.

"3 confirmed he does like 4," Meggy says.

Mario laughs maliciously.

"What?" asks Meggy.

"mario also got SMG4 to confirm he likes 3 >:)," Mario says.

"Ha," Meggy says, "Cool. Do you think they'll ever actually get together?"

"hmmmmmm, Maybe!" Mario answers. "But if they don't, it's incredibly funny to watch their gay struggling, so we can keep watching it for a while"

"I like your thinking, Red," Meggy smirks. "Let's just let them be for the time being."

[cherrycherryking]

Wally x gardener puppet? Idk the concept to me seems cute,,,,

the concept is SO cute!! I know it was just supossed to be wally x reader but i looove concepts for welcom home characters!! like, how would you interact with the neighboorhood? what stuff would you teach?

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wally darling x gen!reader (platonic or romantic!) + drawings

Gardener Puppet Reader

────────────

✧You're a puppet like Wally or Julie! Your little house is mostly took over by the garden behind it, and most of your segments take place in your work table.

✧You talk about...well, plants! Easy ways to start kids on gardening with plants like beans or herbs. Your segments crossover to recycling and all things around taking care of the planet.

✧For this reasons you would often appear with Frank when it got to talking about insects or more technicalities about plants like bees or their life cycle! With arts and crafts to reuse trash Julie and Wally would accompany you :)

✧When not in your house you could be seen taking care of the flowers around the neighborhood, stocking food on Howdy's store or bringing fresh produce for Poppy's baking segments!

✧Look!! Its You!!! (or just an outfit idea)

✧Only gray so you can decide the color palette. I also thought it would be funny for you to be a scarecrow but that i leave up to you.

───────────.★..─╮ Wally x Reader part!! ─..★.───────────╯

✧As said before, Wally would appear in your segments about recycled projects

✧I like to think that Wally is really good at all types of paintings but not so much with arts and crafts.

✧Everytime hes your co-host the camera will be looking at you doing an explanation of the steps, cut to wally and:

✧Home has pretty white flowers outside, so you take care of them :) A good couple of episodes start with Wally looking out the windows or getting out of Home and saying finding you there!!

✧One day you decided to gift your friends some pretty plants, and for Wally you decided on an Aloe.

✧He's so so happy with the gift!! He promises to take good care of it.

✧It was nothing really, Wally has always been a dear person to you. He was so calm and smooth and charming that you couldn't help but want to hang around him all of the time.

✧And it seemed he thought the same about you,

✧Your patience with his mess ups, your sweet words of encouragement, the care you took of Home so its flowers and bushes were always healthy made his heart melt!

✧That's why he looked so sad when you opened the door after you heard his knocking.

✧"I am so sorry y/n, the plant you gifted me died :("

✧He kept apologizing but you stopped him, telling Wally it was okay! It wasn't yours but his, and you didnt felt angry or anything.

✧"Aren't you mad at me?" "No, of course not! If anything, i'm more curious about how it got like that..."

✧You gave Wally an Aloe plant on purpose. He was a little uhhhh lost some times! head empty, so you choose a plant that would do just fine with little care.

✧But it seem he took too much care of the Aloe. It got like this thanks to overwatering.

"Its okay" you told him, holding his face on your hands. "You just worried too much for the little guy."

"Oh- haha, I ruined because I overdid it?"

"C'mon! You didn't ruined it. Lets go to the back, i'm pretty sure we can still save the aloe. This time i'm going to give you a better guide to take care of it."

His gaze softened, leaning his head to one of your hands. "That sounds nice..."

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can you tell how excited i got with this? can you tell?!?!?! it was so fun omg

PLEASE!! pleasepleaseplease send me more asks about ideas for you all self insert! tell me if you want a puppet or like a human costar like sesame street.

[qoldenskies]

Think the biggest thing about the family meeting for me is that it's literally just mean. They sit there berating Donnie until he cries. There's a supposed reason for the meeting, but Raph literally says that they're moving on to "serious talk" when they start discussing his "behavior." That entire segment of them tearing him down is literally just for their enjoyment. It's not vindictive in the way their physical abuse of him is, not as calculated as the closet situation. It's literally them just being flat out fucking mean because they're having fun doing it.

The fact that they especially poke at his autism is devastating. It's painful by itself (one of the biggest things people tend to praise about Rise when it comes to ND rep is that the brothers have literally never treated him as a burden because of who he is), but you've mentioned before that Donnie is really the one who suffers from the ND "my identity belongs to the people" experience. He uses his technology to make up for what he sees as deficits. But he's been told that not only does his "useless junk" not make up for his existence, but they absolutely hate those traits as much as he'd feared. I've always kind of thought that this was an underlying fear he never mentioned in Witch Town, mostly because it feels like a very ND struggle: it wasn't just the thought of being replaced by mystic that scared him, but the thought that all his tech, all his effort, had become not enough to make up for his living. Except in CC he can think back to what April said and think "You were wrong. You were wrong and I'm sorry for everything."

the fact that their words prey on a pre-existing insecurity is what makes it so HARD to undo.... like YES they can convince donnie that they DO love him, and that he didn't deserve to be lied to and hit and gaslit and abused, but the problem is that donnie heard all of these attacks on his character, and his behavior, and his sense of self was so fragile that even with the knowledge of the curse in mind, he continues to BELIEVE what they said is true. there are some moments where he intentionally holds himself back later down the line in CL, but after the final attack especially its so noticeable. he's so much less verbose. he speaks like he's embarrassed to be speaking. they've noted that so much of his cute little verbal quirks are gone and that he doesn't sound like himself.

it's because he's completely embarrassed with himself and what he used to be. he doesn't miss how things were, his grief is long gone; he feels ashamed for living in that illusion that he was in any way accepted, thinking he'd always just been embarrassing himself and his family without knowing it. his confidence was so fragile that it really only took something like the family meeting to DESTROY it; but to be fair, they wouldn't have gotten away with it day one because he is on the default defensive, but the anger had already been squashed completely and he was on to bargaining at that point.

and they knewwww godddd they knew. they all knew!

they watched themselves around him!! they always made sure not to go too far when they made fun of him!!! they understood how quick he was to disappear back into himself when he felt rejected and they worked around it because they loved him!!! they KNEW!!!!!

and the curse makes them take advantage of the fact that they knew!! what's so horrifying about the family meeting is that they KNEW how donnie was going to respond, they KNEW it would break him, and they KNEW they were going to get away with it, and they did it anyway because they thought it was funny.

and i dont even think they planned it out, especially apparent by the way raph ended up shutting it down. leo jumped on the opportunity and they just joined in the moment they got the chance to like sharks smelling blood in the water. it meant nothing to them, it wasn't an intentional, planned choice to get revenge or question his sense of reality. honestly, it was probably just them voicing all the shit they said behind his back (some to april.... yikes), and that's one of the things leo was scared about donnie SEEING because it was probably way more vicious. they had zero filter when they talked ABOUT him, because even through the curse there would still be the natural instinct to protect his feelings.

[fatuismooches]

Reader is always sitting on dottore’s lap.. but what if dottore say on readers lap instead?I love the idea of reader holding one of the segments while they work just sitting on their lap <3 They will get antsy and flustered but you can easily fix that with a peck!! 😌

Something about being close and up and personal with dotty makes me feel so fuzzy and warm! I want to cup his face, kiss him all over, tell him I love him again and again!!! I just really really love the closeness for dottore :(

This goes for the segments as well because they deserve all the love too. Especially webttore!! Give that man a hug during one of his passion rants, no questions asked just do it.

And when I think of akademiya zandik & reader, I think of so much BECAUSE THAT WAS THE HONEYMOON PHASE!!!!! Just two dorks being in love and defending each other and trusting one another. Imagine reader with zandik after he tells them a bit of his past, his childhood, (A bit OOC but perhaps that could be the first instance where reader sees zandik cry for the first time..?) with reader reassuring him whilst embracing him.

I’d love to come back here and talk more!! Can I please become 🎨 anon? I do have troubles with speaking so I am sorry if this is a bit wonky. :1

There are certain words that you simply do not refer to Il Dottore as. Cute and submissive are two of these words, but you? You use them anyway. Because they are cute and submissive when they're all comfortable (although terribly embarrassed and defensive) in your lap. In the beginning, when you suggest the idea, Dottore and the other segments laugh at you because they think it's an amusing joke but, nope, you're 100% serious. It takes... a lot of perseverance and bothering and begging and pleading but!! Soon you'll have the segments fighting over who gets to sit in your lap, because well... it's comfy and soft and they get to be held by you for hours on end as they do their work... (Prime and Omega are obviously the last to give in, their egos are not handling this embarrassing treatment.) You always wrap your arm around him and ask him about his work! Giving him kisses when he starts to get irritated and working your hands into his shoulders and back... :( You're good at repelling the oncoming stress and headaches in this position.

Webttore's ego literally blows up whenever you show such blatant affection and interest in his rants, like yes please keep indulging because he WON'T stop as long as you keep doing it. You could be on the verge of falling asleep and all you hear is him continuing to tell his stories in the background. He wouldn't even notice at first because he gets very into his storytelling as to how he casually demolished a few dozen camps of enemies but then he realizes you aren't commenting anymore... oh you fell asleep :( all of this was probably too much for you to handle all at once...

HONEYMOON PHASE AKADEMIYA ZANDIK AND YOU... :( ugh you're so right 🎨 anon. That was when times were so much simpler... sure school is a pain but!! It was fun. It was when you two found love. Finding comfort, finding each other. It was when you two could simply be Zandik and [Name], no other titles getting in the way.

Zandik despised opening up about himself, much less his past so, he'd only tell you after like many years, and even then he kept it brief and acted like he didn't care and it didn't affect him, because he didn't want to be pitied, he doesn't want your comfort. And so you don't push the topic, but you know he was hurt by it, hurt by being called a monster since birth, being run out by the people who were supposed to be family. So when he does end up crying about it, you don't say a word, you just hold him even as he tries to cover it up, even as he curses you for being like this, because you love him.

[matchalovertrait]

Dulce is starting to feel overwhelmed! Is the pressure to win getting to her? Or is it something else...? We won't be finding out in the next segment.

Previous / Next (Transcript under the cut)

(1.) [Carlo] Tsk, tsk. They should have thought more outside the box. Also, Dulce really has to watch the time. Andrea, please check on the contestants.

(2.) [Andrea] How is everything, Chef Dulce?

[Dulce] Ehh, I'm not entirely happy with the flavor and spice, so I think I'll add some red chiles too.

(3.) I have to push through and make it to the dessert round. I think once I get there, the title of Diced Junior Champion is mine since I'm a baker's daughter.

(4.) [Alex] Hi, Andrea. Sorry, I can't really talk right now. Gotta focus.

[Andrea] Oh, okay-

(5.) [Alex] I hope she didn't find that rude. Like I said, I like Andrea. Carlo is kind of getting on my nerves, though. You're worried about time but also want us to stop and chitchat for a while? Let me work, man.

(6.) [Andrea] How's your progress, Rubiya?

[Rubiya] The jicama isn't really cooperating with me right now... but everything else is good!

(7.) [Rubiya] It'd be life-changing for me if I won. I could use that money for culinary school. There's always the regional spelling bees that I'll try in the future, but nothing is ever guaranteed in life. Take every chance you get.

(8.) [Alex] If I won, I would donate the money to the ALS Association. My grandpa in Henford-on-Bagley recently passed away from ALS complications. He was a nice man. He would take me around his farm, and he even gave some goats to my parents.

(9.) [Alex] That's why I know how to raise goats and cook the meat... hey! I guess Lewis and I aren't that much different. We know a thing or two about the farm life.

(10.) [Dulce] If I won, I would give most of the money to my mom for our bakery. There were some people who... took advantage of certain things, so the bakery suffered for a long time. Everything is okay now, but not exactly like how it used to be.

(11.) [Alex] Dang, I almost forgot about my jicama! I have to still spiralize it too.

(12.) [Mia] Wow, I've never seen such concentration from young chefs before. They are fully immersed.

[Sofia] Bring me back as a judge next season! I'll be recording a deluxe version of my album, but I'll make time.

(13.) [Dulce] Done dicing and chopping everything! I'll add everything to the pot and put back the extra things in the fridge.

(14.) [Rubiya] What a beautiful color.

(15.) [Dulce] Excu-

[Alex] Oh crud-

(16.) [Alex] Oh my gosh, I'm so sorry! Are you okay?

[Dulce] Oh, um-

(17.) [Alex] Dulce? Are you okay?

[Dulce] Yeah, yeah, just a little embarrassed.

[Alex] Here, let me help you clean up.

(18.) [Andrea's Voiceover] Meanwhile, Rubiya is focused on her dish, as she should be!

[Rubiya] Hmmmm... is there anything else I can add?

(19.) [Alex] Are you sure you're okay?

[Dulce] Yeah, don't worry about it, but I have to go check on my soup! Hopefully it's about done, I left it simmering.

(20.) [Sofia] Good thing everyone is okay!

[Mia] Chefs, you guys have 5 minutes left on the clock! Please start plating soon.