#I don't know if my ego will ever recover

[lupinescribbler]

Good news: I finally managed to turn autocorrect back on so it marks misspelled words.

Bad news: Was looking through my recent writing...

finished a chapter of my story but rereading it made me realized I switched from past into present tense for half of it? And I apparently turned autocorrect off at some point and thus misspelled a bunch of stuff without noticing???

Me: Ah, I finally feel creatively inspired :) I'm gonna write my next masterpiece.

My writing: He has was realy great

[liquidchocolatecake]

currently captive audience to a knock down drag out fight in my brain between desire to respect the wishes of the creator and not look for anyone redistributing the comic and god i fucking miss wonderlab i miss wonderlab so much you have no idea i want wonderlab back so bad

[hanaonesflower]

“let me do this for you.”

“let me get that for you.”

“don’t worry, I’ll take care of it.”

when nanami was around, it was like being watched by a hawk. not in a bad way of course, just not a way you're probably used to. he is always on it, taking care of everything from beginning to end, hell bent on you not ever lifting a finger and actually bar you from doing it, even behind his back.

"seriously, kento, I can do it myself!"

"absolutely not, you worked all day, when you come home, I take care of you."

you try to bargain, dishing out facts that he, too, has a full time job that usually pushes him to the brink of exhaustion that he may or may not recover from, yet, here he is, elbows deep in dough, insistent on making pasta from scratch. according to a recipe that you may have briefly mentioned weeks ago that you wanted to try.

you tried to pick up the knife and dice the tomatoes or turn on the stove, he shoos you away.

"this is getting out of control, kento."

"you can help me by taking a nice warm long bath, honey."

nanami knows what he's doing, the majority of the time. but will he ever express that he fumbles from time to time? never. not that his ego is inflated, but because he has prided himself for being to care for you boundlessly.

so when you leave the bath and find kento with his hand in a bucket of ice water, you realize something have gone south in the kitchen.

"kento! what happened?!"

"nothing to worry about my l-"

"enough! tell me, now."

your stern voice and attitude stun him, he's never seen you like this before. his behavior is downright concerning, he hasn't always been this way though. sure, he loves by serving, but he isn't always this stubborn or ridiculously protective. you have always cooked together, why would it be different this time, or the last few times within the past couple of months. nanami isn't unreasonable, but he can be if something pricked at his pride.

"I may have burned myself with the hot steam."

"may have? your skin is having a terrible reaction! for a smart man you can be so clumsy sometimes."

"it's not that bad."

you glare.

"okay, it's pretty burnt and it hurts."

"I bet it does."

you slowly pull his hand out from the ice bucket and lead him to the kitchen table and command him to sit still when you fetch the first aid. his palm is raw from the burn and his face twists in pain when you apply some pressure.

there isn't much conversation exchanged between you and him, but something is definitely hanging above your heads. kento seems to be closed off to it, but you're willing to get to the root of things.

"you haven't been yourself lately."

silence.

"I feel like this is not just about providing for me, something happened, and it affected you."

kento looks saddened by this. you are spot on. something did happen.

a few months ago, during a dinner party amongst friends, kento found himself begrudgingly involved in unpleasant conversations with his colleagues, the way they audaciously questioned his ability to care for his partner when he was always away on work trips or spending extra time at work. he took it to heart, kento questioned himself. he realized, that even though his colleagues were terribly annoying and invasive, they made some considerable points. he made the executive decision to fully take over, spinning a complete 180 on you. at first you thought it was sweet, until it became authoritarian.

"that's really how you feel?"

"have I been absent to you, y/n?"

you contemplate for a while, you truly wish he is around more, but you always understand the nature of his job.

"I do wish I can see you more often, when you had that 2-week long vacation, I was able to spend such amazing quality time with you, and it was awesome, but I also understand how your job is. I didn't want to come in between that."

"so I have been absent." he moaned defeatedly.

"please don't blame it on yourself like this, it's not healthy, I still love you, kento."

"this is all my fault, y/n, I should have been there for you more."

truthfully, you wish he was, but once again, you are both stuck between a rock and a hard place.

"have you been doing all this to somehow compensate?"

"is it working?"

he is trying to humor you, although at quite a horrid time, you still crack a smile.

"I think it's very kind of you."

he sighs.

"please, forgive me, my love. I became what you called a workaholic, I tried to get more hours to provide for you, only to come short in other aspects."

"I'm not an unemployed housewife, kento."

“this isn’t my way of saying that you are incapacitated in any way, i just wish that you didn’t have to worry about anything,” he groaned from the incessant gnawing of the antiseptic on his burnt wound.

“kento, this is a partnership, you’re not my servant and i’m not a spoiled brat,” he felt a little silly, nanami knew this fact yet he felt impotent in this sense. he opened and closed his lips, hoping to get his point across even further but nothing seemed good enough at theis point, he’s done fighting.

“whatever you’re going to say, it’s not going to change the fact that i love you,” you silence him.

“then can i say that i love you, too?”

“that, you can.”

⭒˚‧ ︵‿⭒ཐིཋྀ ཐིཋྀ⭒‿︵ ‧˚⭒ ⭒˚‧ ︵‿⭒ཐིཋྀ ཐིཋྀ⭒‿︵ ‧˚⭒ ⭒˚‧

note: PHEEeewww… it’s really good to be back :33 this piece shall be the redebut as it is one of my cuter fics. going back with smut pieces after such a long hiatus didn’t feel right so – soft nanami is always the way to go!! more content will be coming soon (smut included >.>), stay tuned ( ˘ ³˘)

[soiwj]

hiii! i rlly love your arle/reader baker au,,,,it’s so cute ueueue & i had a thought, what if arle got jealous of someone that’s suddenly rlly close & flirts w reader while she’s visiting reader’s bakery or smtg? that’d be a sight to see >:)

but again, thank u for writing such a great fic!

Omg wtf? That is such an amazing prompt i love you literally kiss me?

Jealousy's Delight

jealous!arlecchino x baker!fem!reader

Synopsis: Someone's starting to get a little too fond of our lovely baker, and Arlecchino seems to have a problem with that.

You just woke up, and your hair's a mess as you saunter downstairs to your bakery. It's times like these where you really appreciate living right above it. As you finish prepping all the boxes for Arle to carry, you set up your kitchen like normal, preparing for another day of sitting idly behind your store counter waiting for clients to order.

Although your customer frequencies and ratings have increased since closing a contract with the house of the hearth, it's a blessing and a curse. Not many people want to get involved with the fatui, but some people get curious and actually end up liking the sweets.

Normally, Arle tends to be a bit early when picking up the boxes, leaving right when your bakery opens, but today, it seems she's a bit delayed. Nevertheless, you set the baby pink boxes aside as you flip the open hanging on your glass door towards the open world.

After half an hour, the bakery is scarcely filled with a few people. Margret, sitting in the corner enjoying her croissant with a cup of tea and a surprisingly hard crossword puzzle. Judonte, another local, sitting in one of the couches enjoying his coff-

"..hello?" You hear an energetic voice tear you out of your thoughts.

"O-oh hello! Sorry, it's still morning, haha. What can I get ya?" You quickly recover from your slacking. Wouldn't want the new customer to be on your ass for not working hard enough. Weirdly enough, you don't recognize this one. His dark blue hair falls slightly over his forhead as his bright green eyes stare straight into your soul. "Wait, I haven't seen you before. Are you new in town?"

He looks confused yet pleased at your question. "Yes actually, I just moved here from Liyue. It's quite a contrast between here and there." He grins at you before looking behind you at the menu.

"Hmm, let me see, you have quite a lot of options. Are you the only one working today?" You look at him, slightly confused. "Oh no, I'm the only one that works here. I'm the bakeries owner." His face is painted with a surprised look as he slips back into his ever-confident demeanor.

"Wow, you set this place up all by yourself? You must be quite the talented lady." He smirks as he takes a swift look at the show-pasteries before turning back to you. "I must say, this croissant looks really delicious, but that's not the only sweet treat in here." He winks as he delivers his line almost theatrically, straight out of romeo and juliette.

"Well yeah its a bakery, we have more than just a singular tasty snack, haha." That pick-up line flew right past your head straight into his ego, oh my.

"Haha, I guess you're right. Maybe we could get coffee sometime?-"

"I'm afraid she won't have the time." The white and black haired woman says while gripping the mans shoulder. Tightly.

"And who are you to decide that for her?" The man looks into her eyes, defiantly. Not knowing that he just signed his death sentence. Everyone present is looking at him now.

Yet you are as oblivious as ever.

"Oh good morning, Arle! Let me get the boxes. Hold on." You excuse yourself as you leave them for a couple of minutes. When you come back, however, the previously defiant young man has turned into a scared shell of himself with the social potency of a wet napkin. You don't know what Arle said to him. And maybe you don't want to find out.

He quickly fumbles out apologies to you and Arle as he runs off.

"Huh, why'd he leave? I thought he was gonna order?" She looks at you with a dangerous glint in her eyes. "Some people are just a bit eccentric."

Arle doesn't mind a little competition, but ones as pathetic as this one shouldn't even get the chance.

But Arlecchino is also a fair woman. So, for driving away a customer, she's given you a hefty tip for today's delivery. It's not like she wasn't planning on doing that already.

Its kind of short so im sorry about that but i really liked writing this one! Again thank you so much for the request!

[whoopsyeahokay]

Alphabet Soup

summary: prompt fill. the journey of a clandestine love affair at several stages because Wally Clark craves what he can't have and refuses to keep his hands to himself. and you live for it.

pairing: grey!Wally Clark x fem!reader

warnings: smut. AU - modern setting. romanticized toxic behavior. cheating (not on you). egregious use of the word 'baby'.

bon reading, frens

___________________________🧿

Alphabet Soup - F

F is for how Wally shamelessly flirts with you. A fun way to make a boring Friday afternoon more interesting. He has to be here, some Booster Club bullshit to raise money for new cheer uniforms since Janet and her drones strongarmed the principal into bringing the squad into 2024. As the diligent, doting boyfriend, Wally finagled his teammates into helping. A car wash, guys and girls in bathing suits, flexing and feeding into fantasies that shouldn't be given a platform. You know, the kind of shit that shouldn't fly but does because Janet has Claire, and Claire always gets her way if she flashes enough of her family's money around.

And chaste little cherub that you are, you and your friends are there to help, manning the cash box and filling buckets of soapy water when Janet snaps her fingers. Whatever, it gives Wally something to look at between scrubbing down cougars' mom-vans and pretending to give a shit when Janet sprays herself with the hose. A drowned rat with a fake tan, fake teeth, fake tits, bought and paid for by Corporate Mogul Daddy.

God, Wally wants to go back in time and punch himself for agreeing to her dumb social-climb agenda. He was willing at the time. Why not? He has an ego, likes attention, and being king of Split River High comes with fantastic perks.

One, for example, being that he can get some dipshit bench-rider to take over for him for a few minutes while he follows you into the building.

You stand at the vending machine, perusing the options, hands in the back pockets of jean shorts Wally would kill a man to see you bend over in. A Cheshire smile and devious eyes, he stalks up to you and leans against the vending machine, dripping sweat and soapy water from the last car.

"Let me guess," He starts, smooth, grinning at you like you're something he wants to catch with his teeth, "your heart says Doritos, but your brain is telling you to get a granola bar."

You give him a once-over, slow, appraising, from feet to face, "My heart never says Doritos. But nice try." Your smile is easy and innocent, "You wanna try again?"

Wally smirks, leans in real close, fingers brushing your thigh along the hem of your shorts. Heat spears through him when your cheeks pink, perfect lips parting on a shivery gasp. Such a fucking sweet little thing. "What happens if I guess right?" He murmurs, the tip of his nose grazing your temple as he whispers in your ear.

Recovering admirably, you offer, "Maybe I'll be nice enough to share with you."

"And if I don't like your choice?" He smooths his hand around your thigh, settles below the curve of your ass, thumb stroking under the hem of your shorts. "What then, baby?" He feels himself twitch in his swim trunks, God, you smell good. Like coconut-vanilla and that kid shampoo he saw in the bathroom you share with Janet.

You pan your head in tiny fractions, slow-motion sensual, lips so close to his that he's breathing your air. "I guess you'll have to settle for good sportsmanship," a honeyed smirk, twinkling eyes on Wally's lips for a moment before they meet his gaze.

Wally groans, grin widening, grabbing a fistful of your ass and dragging you flush against him to make you feel the effect you have on him. "That's just mean, baby," and he murmurs, dark and heated, grinding his hips forward, "you saying you'd leave me like this?"

Without missing a beat, you rest your hands on his bare chest, rising on your toes to hover your lips over his, "Didn't your mother ever teach you that you're responsible for the messes you make?"

"Nah," Wally's grin sharpens, flicking his tongue against your bottom lip, "My mama taught me to ask for help when I need it." He grabs your ass with both hands, maneuvers to pin you against the side of the vending machine so he can lift you and grind his hard cock between your thighs. "And I really," thrust "really" thrust "need it."

Wally relieves the bench-rider twenty minutes later, a skip in his step and a ring of cherry lip gloss around the base of his cock. It isn't until he winks at you over his sunglasses that you remember why you went to the vending machine in the first place.

🧿___________________________

MASTERLIST

also available on AO3!

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[zoropookie]

HOW HATERS ARE BORN (HHAB)

♡ chapter twenty-three — friends? (💋)

"Hey, if any reason we don't make it out without anyone seeing us, I just want to say that," You paused to look at him while you two were walking. "I think I’d rather be in a dating scandal with an insulin pen than you."

The corners of his lips twitched. "Wow." He said sarcastically, attention mainly on where he was going. "I never knew you were capable of thinking."

"My brain power’s not for free, just so you know," You immediately responded. "I changed my mind what I said earlier. I want at least three Twitter apologies and a lifetime supply of Jason Derulo concert tickets."

Scaramouche's eyebrows furrowed, giving you the nastiest side-eye that you could have ever imagined from him. "I'd rather take my chances with the scandal, thanks.”

You rolled your eyes, nudging him lightly with your elbow. You couldn't help but look at him a lot more than usual today. The allure that rang true put him in a different light, despite the light not being your cup of tea whenever he opens his mouth.

It was almost like the gravity of the situation didn't matter anymore. Still, you remained high and mighty. "I guess I'd want to be around me too."

"You're very sure of yourself for someone who's annoying every other day of the week."

"I’ll take it. It's why I exposed you so bad, and you flailed." You smiled, which caused Scaramouche to grunt in frustration. "You got burned, and you knew it too. Despite all odds, I kind of won."

"You did? Is that why you went AWOL for two weeks when I responded?" There was a split moment of silence between them as they stood there, and Scaramouche chuckled. The sound was low and throaty in the dimly lit alleyway. "All the considering, and this is very painful to say, but you were better with words than I was."

"Is that... another COMPLIMENT I HEAR COMING FROM YOUR-? I forgot it’s three in the morning." You sighed, shoulders dropping. "I'm satisfied with being the cunning wordsmith."

“You’re also just pretty fucking unfortunate to be around, but we can stroke your ego.”

“I love that you’re taking the diplomatic approach here.” You teased, feeling your heart warm up from his staring. Both of you looked at each other, uncertain to say anything, but hesitant to break the eye contact.

“Hey— uh.” You continued, stammering on your words. “If this all blows over? You wanna…go out?”

The amount of silence that was between them should have been enough of an indication to you, but you definitely knew it was solidified once he looked at you with a blank stare. “No.”

“Yeah, no. I started feeling like I was going to vomit when I said that anyway.” You quickly recovered, turning your body away to bite at your hand. Your eyes squeezed tight in embarrassment, hoping that you melt by some galactic beam in the next two seconds.

Amongst their chatter, and the alleyway that hid both of your figures, a distant rumble slowly became louder as the sound echoed off the walls. A pair of headlights pierced the darkness, and the beams of them against the worn down pavement on the curb assured them that it was definitely the group.

"Come on, come on!" Hu Tao shouted from the window, making you and Scaramouche cringe. She clearly found joy from this, because for some reason, the smile plastered on her face spoke volumes.

You both shared a fleeting glance, a silent exchange of words before entering the car.

"Well, well, well. If I would have known that Scaramouche himself would be in my car, I would have put 3/4th's water in my gas tank." Heizou raised an eyebrow, his tone dripping with amusement and mirth.

"Oh, be nice." You pursed your lips, squinting. "Like you made an effort to help me out in the past. Now you're on your high horse?"

"Um, that's alleged."

"Really? Is it? How's that case against (Y/N)'s hater going, Officer Shikanoin? Found any way to protect them?" Lumine spoke up, her arms crossed stubbornly. "Well?"

"Listen! I was given a very narrow band of things that I can do with that! Aaaand, my hands were tied with a lot of other things." Heizou defended.

"Yeah, I'm sure your hands were tied with all the Cheetos you were picking up, the ones you spilled in some sawdust." Yanfei chimed in with a wry grin. "But I suppose I can't blame you for your...preferences."

"You knew that was an accident."

"Oh Heizou, I never saw it as an accident."

The two of them were arguing so much with input from the others in the car, that you and Scaramouche could only look at each other again and back at the scene. This was the only way the two of you were getting home safe from social media.

"You wasted 2 hours picking up every single one-"

"I don't see how this is relevant to where we're going right now!" Heizou immediately interrupted her before she could finish. "Directions, anyone? Before I hit a dead end?"

Yanfei immediately started tapping on her phone screen, pulling up the GPS navigation app she used. "So you turn left, but the rest of it is all you." She said, shoving her phone towards Heizou who snatched it out of her hand.

"Where are we going anyway?" Hu Tao asked, too enamored in Yanfei to say anything substantial until now.

"Ei has a vacation lodge, it's pretty cool, and it has way too many guest rooms. We're going there, I assume you have a key to it, Scaramouche?"

Scaramouche couldn't even respond properly, only offering a yard long stare. "How do you know she has a vacation lodge?"

"Did you forget that you're an influencer?" Another mysterious voice, almost similar to a child’s, appeared suddenly.

Nahida’s head popped up from the back seat, next to Lumine. It was less surprising knowing that all of them were clashing groups, anyway. But Aether’s eyes narrowed to the front seat.

“Officer Shikanoin…” Aether said in almost a disgusted tone. “You should be ashamed of yourself.”

“It’s definitely NOT what you’re thinking right now—” Heizou took his hands off the wheel, causing the car to swerve for a split second. “DEAL WITH IT, okay. I’ll explain when we get there.”

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YOU ARE on your way to being one of the hottest streamer in your nation at the moment, racking a monthly average of 10 million viewers, but something specific bothers you about it. you know that a lot of people hate you, but there's this one account. one account that's been following you since the early days of your career. they leave a flood of rude comments in your stream, your moderators banned each account they made, but they keep making more. you are at the end of your tether. but you are yet to find out that this persistent cockroach is none other than your friend's friend (and the only other streamer that's bigger than you), scaramouche.

taglist ♡ @thystarsshine @veekoko @gumickajolli @simonisferal @kamiboo

@justpeachyteastea @feiherp @pinkismyfavcolor @aether-darling @kunisnaomi

@keiiqq @mine-lu @featuredtofu @danhenglovebot @k4zushi

@kyon-cherri @b4tm4nn @iiinaurate @quacking-simp @auroratumbles

@kookiibun @ulquiorraswife @amvpk01 @simplysm1le @h3xi2g0n3

@alatusorrow @scaranthropy @mellowberrie @magica-ren @vernith

@kabukipookie @bananasquash @suqarlaced @dellalyra @lightyagamifan

@yourfavoritefreakyhan @heartsforseo @yomishen @pwushizz @swivy123

@strxwberryfetish @ibyobi @ashfrommars4 @chemiru @ainnofinway

@agaygothicmushroom @levianamor @dragontammerz @wth121 @lylovw

@morgyyyyyyy @lovemari @suniika @melpomenelurks @yumejo89 (bold users means i'm having trouble tagging you)

[daydreamcloudshiding]

#4 Astrology Observations

I usually don't get along with people who have Ascendant opposite my Mars. Something about them really irritates me and I don't even know why

Mars square Mars synastry is one of the most toxic synastry I know. It's like both are very strong-headed and no one will ever back down. If there is other strong placement in this synastry, it's like one of those couples that only stays together just to punish the other. It's like - no one can ever "own" you but me, no one can ever "destroy" you but me, I have the power to do that - So toxic

Saturn square Pluto synastry can be toxic because it has so much transformations and challenges. Saturn represent order and structure, Pluto represent transformation. This happen to both of them, and it's not like only the Pluto person who will bring about change. To give you an example, perhaps the Saturn is so used to chaos and Pluto will come into their life to help them build the structure and order that they need in their life. However Pluto have this forceful vibe to them, and Saturn, literally the one represent structure will find this resistance in their heart. Like "What are you doing, that's supposed to be my job, shut up, shut up, shut up why are you trying to control my life" and Let's say that for all their life, Pluto has this tunnel-like mindset that's probably toxic to them. Or even a belief. Saturn will come into their life to show them that there are other alternatives, that even though different from what Pluto has, is really working and definitely not toxic. Pluto will not take this change easily. Like "The fu*k you trynna change me, who do you think you are? How about I change you instead?" with this placement, both really need to drop the ego, it's crucial because I personally don't really see this as toxic, because it doesn't have to be. The thing is, this is also a binding aspect. I found this in couples who have been together for 10+ years or even married. This is because the transformation happen only after both really get to know each other quite well

People with Mercury square Chiron in natal chart can say some hurtful sh*t that will shook you mentally and emotionally and you will never be able to recover from this pain because usually there is an element of truth in it. They might insult you about your behaviour and somehow they connect it to a specific childhood trauma that you tried so hard to hide but this person can see it and you can't believe that this person really said it out loud. So now everyone knows

Mars in 1st in composite feels like there is a sense of defensiveness to it, but it doesn't always means towards each other but rather towards other people. It's like one or both are very defensive about this relationship that if someone disagrees with this, they will defend it hard

Chiron conjunct North node in composite means that there is some element in the relationship or in both people that is so triggering. And triggering doesn't mean that it's going to be painful or toxic, because the whole point of Chiron and North node is healing and transformations. Both will be uncomfortable and will see each other as a potential danger and there'll be a lot of doubt. But what they don't realise is they are not helpless. This is not about one person abusing the other, it's about both probably have the same trigger and fear and they might have the same toxic defense mechanism

Venus square Venus in synastry can be so intense because both can be very loyal to each other but have a very different way of showing it. This is precisely why they can’t let go of each other anyway even though they constantly fight or misunderstand each other in love. Especially if this synastry has Pluto or 8th house placement. One person’s form of loyalty could be marriage and the other might feel the same but their approach in marriage is very different. This will make the other person like “you said you wanna marry me but you do this, or you do it like this?? This doesn’t make sense to me”

I would like to say that no one truly ever move on from grieve. But especially water signs, they never truly "get over it". And people will say for example, it's because Scorpios want to take revenge, or Cancers are crybaby, or Pisces are delusional. But from my experience with them, it's because they really love deeply (if they love you for real). When they love it's become their whole being, you truly will become their world, their life. They will take you to their depth and you will be one with their ocean.

On the other hand, the best liars are water signs or water sign dominants. Again, this is my experience with them and as an air sign dominant I feel like I can't ever truly trust them??

People said Pisces have savior complex, well... in my experience it's Scorpios who has it. They like to be seen as someone / the only one who can save you. Perhaps they both have it, but in my own experience, it's Scorpios who most likely have it. Pisces energy seems too airy to me, almost like air signs. They won't really stick around, ya know? Like they love you so much but always want to run away as well. But not Scorpios. So if Scorpios thinks that they need to help you/save you, they effing will. Which can create co-dependants relationships in their life

People with Pisces in 12th house seems like they don't really have a real authentic self. It's worse than Neptune in 1st. They are the true chameleon. Like i'm not saying that they're fake, but they have a tendency to be "anyone", like they can change their appearance, behaviours, etc however they want it

[imaginechb]

Please, Please, Please

Connor Stoll x fem!aphrodite!reader

Synopsis: everyone thinks he's going to break your heart. You're hoping they're wrong.

When you told people that you were dating Connor, you were given... mixed reactions. Most people didn't understand why you'd even give him a chance; you were so beautiful inside and out, the closest one could be to a goddess without actually being immortal. Connor was a pest. Upsetting as people's opinions could be, even you had to admit that if someone told you a year ago that you'd be with the son of Hermes, you probably would've laughed in their face.

But nobody knew Connor like you did. He was sweet when he tried to be, and he always wanted to impress you. It was like he was painfully aware that he was playing out of his league, and he was trying in every way possible to make up for it. It usually worked. He'd always have you blushing and giggling (which he had decided was his number one goal in life).

But along with the strange looks came the concerned warnings. "He's going to hurt you," they all said. "It's only a matter of time." Obviously, you defended Connor. That was your boyfriend they were talking about! But at the same time, you knew they had some good points. Connor could be incredibly unserious, and as long as you'd known him, he'd never had a serious relationship. People were worried he'd treat you like just another joke, and sometimes you understood why.

"Connor, don't you dare," you said, not finding it funny. You were completely dressed, with socks and shoes on, your hair and makeup done perfectly, and he had been joking about pushing you into the lake. "What do you mean? I just want to hug my lovely girlfriend!"

You backed up, knowing that look in his eye. The mischievous glint would be unnoticeable to anyone who didn't know him so well, but you saw it. As he came closer to you, he began to smirk, and before you knew it you were lifted up and thrown over his shoulder before being submerged in the cold, cold lake.

You came up gasping for air, absolutely livid. "Fuck you!" You screamed at him. He only laughed, finding your anger funny.

It was moments like these that made you consider the possibility that maybe the other campers were right. You put a lot of care into your appearance, something he didn't seem to care about, no matter how many times you told him you didn't want to go in the water. He wasn't listening to you, even when you were completely serious.

You weren't new to heartbreak; if Connor did happen to break your heart, you'd recover. You were a child of Aphrodite, you'd bounce back like nothing ever happened. But the hit your ego would take if you gave Connor Stoll a chance and he embarrassed you like that? You couldn't handle that. Not that you necessarily thought low of Connor, but everybody knew you were way out of his league. Not to mention how you'd defended him. If they turned out to be right about him... that was something you don't think you could never recover from.

So you silently pleaded with him, staring into his eyes when he was being especially annoying. Please please please, don't prove them right, don't prove I'm right. Don't make me cry. If you're gonna be stupid, leave me out of it.

Sure, Connor was an idiot, but he seemed to care a lot. So like that day at the lake, if he messed up, he'd be right there to dry you off and apologize, and no matter how mad you were, you'd forgive him eventually. He'd still laugh at your angry face, but then he'd kiss it until you physically couldn't force yourself to pout anymore.

Maybe, just maybe, he heard your prayers. Maybe, just maybe, he'd prove everyone wrong.

[gaysindistress]

Hiya ❤️ would you maybe do buck imagine for my bday tomorrow for me? I'd really need some distraction atm. One where you have a crush on each other but of course don't talk about it. Then one night you enter the living room all dressed up for a date and buck is totally flashed by you, until you ask for his opinion for it. When he realizes this is for another guy he gets all bad mooded and leaves. Then instead of your date, you head to Buckys room and decide to finally make a move and kiss him and admit your feelings, which leads to also sleeping together and lots of cute Bucky afterwards? 🙊

Hi babes!!! Im so sorry I didn’t reply to this sooner. I wanted to wait until I finished the fic before I answered. I left it more suggestive but there’s plenty of cute Bucky!!

Warnings: cursing and suggestive content

“I told you to stay back! Do you ever listen?” Bucky sneers when he spots a furry of black rush past him into the open courtyard.

“Yeah just not to you. I’ve learned to tune out your voice,"I plainly state back, tucking myself behind a cement pillar after making a mad dash across the courtyard.

“Would it kill you to put your ego aside for one mission? For…” he’s interrupted by the rain of bullets coming his way and he drops down to the ground, “Sam do you copy?”

“Loud and clear,” he answers through their earpieces, “It looks like there’s about five guys shooting at you. Want Redwing to take them out?”

Bucky’s nose flares at the mention of the godforsaken machine but concedes, “Cover her and I’ll do it.”

“Excuse me? I don’t need anyone’s…” a shriek cuts me short and the sound of my own bullets confirms that I do, in fact, need help and Redwing is on it within seconds, taking out the offended men.

“What was that?” Bucky tries not to sound mocking but it’s just too good of a moment to miss.

“Shove it, Barnes. You’re the one who doesn’t immediately think of his bionic arm because he’s right handed.”

“Sam you told her about that? That’s it. Both of you are fired when we get back.”

We chuckle at his false threat and focus on the task at hand; getting inside of the looming concrete building, extract the intel, and get out in one piece.

“Sammmmmmmmmm…”

The man glances up from the book he is reading at the sound of his name being drawn out, “yesssssss y/nnnnnnn?”

“I need to talk to you,” I nervously whisper, twisting around to see if anyone is in the room. Slipping his bookmark into the book, Sam sets it down and sits back against the couch, gesturing for me to take a seat.

“I swear to god if this has to be with robo cop, your free therapy sessions will come to an end,” he teased me but comes off harsher than he intended and he cringes when my face falls.

“Oh it’s okay. I’m sorry to bother you,"I quickly try to recover the social blunder I’ve made but he grabs my wrist and tells me to sit my ass back down.

“You’re not bothering me and you know better than to take me seriously,” he gently chides me as he pulls me into his side, “what did he do now?”

Fingers twist in uncomfortable angles as I ring my hands together in my lap. Regret starts to fill me and pushes against me like the strong coastal winds, trying to shove me off of the couch and out of the room.

“Nothing. I just…I just hate it, ya know? I hate the whole shitty back and forth we have and how he’s always such an asshole but only to me. I hate that…” I trail off and lean my head on Sam’s shoulder, “I hate that I can’t just tell him how I feel. At this point just getting it off my chest is all I want; I don’t care if he feels the same. I wouldn’t even care if he rejected me, as long as I just didn’t have to live with this disgusting school girl crush.”

Sam chuckles, “have you tried talking to him?”

“We are talking about the same person here, right?”

Although I can’t see him, I can feel the eye roll and heat it in the sarcasm that drips from his voice.

“I will shove you off this couch, I’m trying to HELP you,” he jokingly pushes me away causing us to both laugh, “if you won’t talk to him, then why not move on?”

My laughter dies instantly.

Move on?

Move on?

Move fucking on?

“It’s not that simple,” I snipe at Sam and he hisses from the fake burn of my words.

“It was a suggestion. You don’t have to listen to it,” he says with mock defensiveness.

Another fit of laughter overcomes us and I fall into his lap, completely unaware of how this might look to others. That is until we hear a snort of disgust from the doorway.

The owner?

The one and only Bucky Barnes.

I scramble off of Sam and clear my throat, embarrassed that Bucky walked past.

“Come on, Sam. You can do better than her,” he says with a scowl before striding down the hallway again.

Sam’s jaw tenses and he’s muttering to himself as he stands, taking off after the super solider. He pauses at the door, “I’m sorry for him.”

“It’s fine,” I mumble but it’s not convincing enough.

“No it’s not and I’m going to kick his ass for it. And for the record I think you should at least try and date other people.”

I give him a small smile as he turns and takes off after Bucky, shouting the whole way that he better be ready to get his ass whopped.

Try and date other people.

Try and date other people.

Try and date other people.

It feels deeply wrong to even think about dating other people but Bucky clearly isn’t in a place to even hear my feelings for him.

I pull my phone out and open the most god forsaken app to ever exist; Tinder.

The profile that Yelena and Natasha helped me make has several matches and unread messages but I haven’t had the heart to respond or even open them. Scrolling aimlessly, I pick someone random and message him back.

I have to at least try no matter how loud my heart is screaming at me.

Nelly Furtado and Megan Thee Stallion have been on repeat for the last three maybe four hours. I’m sure everyone is annoyed and would be banging on my door, shouting at me to turn it off if Sam hadn’t told literally every single person in the tower that I had a date. Tony clapped me on the shoulder, congratulating me for getting out there while Yelena and Natasha demanded to know every detail about this mystery man. I promised Sam that I wouldn’t forget this and he better be ready to lose next time we spar during training. His usual smile dropped as the fear of god struck him. Well the fear of ME struck him.

Smoothing my dress down, I cock my head at my reflection in the mirror. I have to admit that I look stunning in the simple fitted dress that Natasha practically ordered I wear. It’s a tie dye pattern of cream and red with thin straps and a scoop neckline that shows off the star pendant necklace that Tony and Pepper gave me when I first moved in. A “welcome to the tower and good luck” gift as he put it with a teasing smile. Simple hoops line my ears and two matching bracelets adore my wrists however the simplicity of my outfit feels over the top. I’d changed my shoes about 40 times and settled on a pair of tan platform sandals but something is nagging at me to change again.

I check the time and curse under my breath when I see that I need to leave in 5 minutes, which certainly isn’t enough time to change everything. The thought of canceling occurs to me but I know I’ll never hear the end of it.

Checking my reflection one last time, I grab my phone and shove it in my purse before leaving my room. Normally I’d be able to tell if someone was in the common living room but I’m too distracted by hyping myself up for this date to notice that there is someone sitting on the couch.

A certain asshole who never fails to piss me off but also makes me fall for him even more to be exact.

I come to a halt when I feel his presence and duck behind the wall, praying he didn’t see me. Peaking my head out, I’m relieved that he hasn’t and my heart clenches at the sight. Bucky looks so peaceful sitting on the couch dressed in a hoodie and joggers with a well loved book in his lap. Although his hood is pulled up, his ruffled hair peeks out, having grown longer and longer with each passing day. When I first met him, he was damn near bald with his short cropped hair but he’s let it grow long enough that he has to push it back every now and again. I jokingly offered him a hair tie during training one day after I saw how frustrated he was getting with it. He snatched it from me with a grumble and sported a unicorn hair for the remainder of training. Sometimes I think I see that black hair tie on his wrist but he’s all too eager to get away from me for me to properly look.

“I can feel you staring, pervert,” his voice cracks from not being used in hours and I flinch at the sudden noise.

“I’m not staring,” I weakly mumble and step back into the living room.

He hasn’t looked up from his book, still reading the pages as he speaks to me, “yes you were.”

I roll my eyes and stick my tongue out at him which of course, he somehow sees. It’s beyond me how he can literally sense everything except for my feelings towards him.

His piercing eyes flicker up at me for a brief moment and back to his book before doing a double take.

“Where are you going?”

His question catches me off guard and I scowl at him, “what are you? My dad?”

His jaw twitches but he says nothing.

Satisfied that I got the best of him, I push my luck and ask him, “how do I look? Would you want to go on a date with me?”

Apparently that’s a big fucking mistake because he’s up and storming out of the room like a fucking child without a single word.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” I mumble under my breath and go after him, “Barnes! I asked you a question, don’t you know it’s rude to storm off and not answer when someone asks you something?”

The behemoth of a man still says nothing as he continues to stomp down the hall.

“Bucky!” I shout at him and he stills right at his door. His left hand is gripping his door knob and I can hear it crumble under its strength. He doesn’t turn to look at me. No no he turns his head just enough to side eye me as he spits out, “fuck off, Y/N.”

The use of my first name takes me back. He never calls me y/n, not even when he’s furious with me for not falling orders. It’s always my last name, Agent, or some rude nickname and on very rare occasions when he’s flirting with me to be a dick, doll.

“Excuse me?” I scoff at him, crossing my arms over my chest.

“I said fuck off,” he grits out as he rips the door open and tries to slam it shut but my hand stops him.

“You don’t get to talk to me like that, no matter how much you hate me. What is your deal anyways? All I did was ask if you liked my outfit which shouldn’t matter to you anyways,” I tell him as I shove into his room. It’s his turn to be taken aback and he stumbles backwards when I push through.

“You’ve made it very clear that you despise me and I, for the life of me, cannot figure out why,” my pent up frustration and anger come spilling out as I continue to tell him off, “I was nothing but kind and friendly when I first got here but you? You were a dick from day one and only to me! You didn’t treat Yelena or even fucking Sharon that way. It was just me and it got worse! Oh my god it’s gotten so much worse and whether or not you want to believe it, I’m a person who has feelings! I can’t even begin to count how many times I’ve cried in the shower because of you. It got so bad that I would cry myself to sleep like a fucking idiot and someone had to sit with me until I fell asleep so I wouldn’t throw myself into a goddamn panic attack. Poor Sam almost moved in because he was the only one that could calm me down. Did you know that?”

He’s staring at me with wide eyes but not a single emotion crosses over them. It makes me unbelievably angry that my outburst doesn’t even phase him.

So I keep going, “and you want to know the worst part? The day I got here, Tony was showing me around and he brought me into the kitchen where everyone was eating. You were there, flirting with Sam just to piss him off but you looked so happy. You were laughing and smiling so much that Tony, fucking Tony made a comment about how that was the happiest he’d seen you in a while. You hadn’t seen us yet but when you did, you gave me that charming Brooklyn smile and it was all over for me. From that single smile, I knew I was screwed because I’d caught feelings for you. Not that it mattered though because within a matter of hours, you lost that smile and were so awful. I tried so hard to make you like me but nothing. If anything it made you hate me even more but no matter what, I’ve always had these…feelings for you that I don’t want anymore. I don’t want to look at you and feel my heart breaking because you don’t feel the same way. I don’t want to pick apart every person I talk to because they’re not you and I hate that they’re not. I don’t want to cry to Sam about how it feels like a piece of me is dying when I’m not around you but you want nothing to do with me. I don’t want to feel like this anymore, Bucky. I can’t… I can’t feel like this.”

By the end of my confession, the tears I swore I would never shed again have fallen. They ruin the makeup I spent an hour putting on, pretending it was a date with Bucky because thinking about Miguel makes my skin crawl. I know I look like a mess but I don’t care. I’ve said my peace finally and while it’s embarrassing and I know I’ll regret it later, it’s done. Maybe now I can move on or at least find comfort in knowing that I won’t have to face Bucky again and live with these disgusting unrequited feelings.

He’s still said nothing, hasn’t moved or otherwise acknowledged that he’s heard me. He just stands there, staring at me with a clenched jaw and completely still. The only noises that fill his room are my sniffles and the subtle whirring of his arm as he clenches his hands into fists.

Of course he wouldn’t say anything. Why would he? It’s not surprising but hurtful regardless because I would’ve hoped he’d find a shred of kindness to show me under all of that hatred.

I shake my head as I turn to leave, unable to deal with him and with the fact that I’m now late for my date. My phone buzzes and I’m greeted with a rather rude message from Miguel about how unattractive it is that I’m late and didn’t even give him a heads up. It takes everything in me to not scream as loud as I can and throw my phone against the wall. Instead I settle for angrily shoving it back into my purse while more than a few foul words fall from my lips.

A cold metal hand clasps onto my wrist as I pull open the door and I look down at it in shock.

“I don’t know what to say,” Bucky whispers, his grip gentle but inescapable all the same. I want to tear myself away but he’s touching me. My heart begins to pound at the connection between us and I let out a shuttered breath.

“You can start by apologizing for how you talked to me,” I manage to say with a voice that is steadier than my breathing.

“I’m sorry, doll. Not just for that but for everything. I’m sorry I made you feel that way. I’m sorry I made you cry and made you think I hated you. I’m sorry I ever treated you the way that I did. No one deserves that and especially not you,” he says in a low voice while slowly closing the distance between us. His hand slides up my arm until it rests on my bicep and he asks for me to come closer too with a soft squeeze.

“I know actions are louder than words and if you’ll let me, I will do anything you ask of me to make it up to you. All you have to do is ask, doll and I swear I’ll do it,” his voice cracks with emotions that I never thought he could feel. Tears brim his eyes as he looks at me with such hope that I feel my own threaten to start falling again.

“No,” it shocks me just as much as it shocks him. His hand loosens and falls to his side.

“No,” I breathe out, “I can’t…that’s….Bucky I just admitted that I’m in love with you and that’s all you have to say? I appreciate the effort but it’s not…no it’s not enough.”

“You’re in love with me?”

Disbelief laces his words and I let out a scoff because he can’t be fucking serious right now.

“Don’t… don’t make me say it,” I stammer over my words as my sobs get caught in my throat.

He blinks at me for a moment before repeating it more to himself than me, “you’re in love with me.”

I wait with bated breath as he processes the revelation. He takes a sudden step forward and I take one back out of habit. Pain explodes onto his face as he steps back again and I swear to god I’ve never felt my heart break as much as it is now.

“Don’t play with my emotions, Bucky,” I hiss, the words harsher than I intend

“Jesus fuck,” he mutters while running a hand through his hair, “do you really think I’d do something like that?”

An answer materializes on my tongue but I can’t say it and he learns it from the struggle in my eyes.

“Wow, I…I can’t believe that you think that low of me.”

“No, I don't because I think the world of you.”

He shakes his head, “don’t play with my emotions either, doll.”

“Considering that I don’t know what they are most of the time, I don’t think I could even if I tried.”

There’s a shift in the tension and I can’t place what. Bucky straightens his shoulders and looks at me with a new intensity. He attempts another step in my direction and when I don’t back away, he begins to prowl towards me.

“I’m not good with words.”

“Trust me I’m aware.”

“I haven’t been able to think about my own wants and needs until recently.”

He backs me into the door but stays a foot or so away from me.

“Where are you going with this?” My voice is whinier than I’d hoped and I pray to god he doesn’t notice.

But he does and the smile that hooked me in the first place overtakes his face.

“Anywhere you want me to, doll. If you want me to give you space, I’ll give it to you even though it’ll break me,” he whispers seriously, “If you want me to grovel until we’re both old and forget why, I’ll gladly get on my knees for you right now. If you want me to show you how I feel, all you have to do is say yes.”

Hesitation creeps up on me because I know what I want and what I want is not what I need.

“Yes.”

Bucky takes the final steps and pins me against the door, both arms caging me in so I have nowhere to go. My hands fly up to his shoulders as he leans in, not quite letting our lips touch.

“I’m in love with you too,” he whispers against my lips before his descends upon mine. I half expected him to devour me but it’s unhurried, slow and languid as our lips move in sync. I can feel his love in the way that his tongue slides against my bottom lip before slipping in. He’s gentle with me as his hands move to cradle my head and pull me impossibly closer. He's apologizing for the tears and angst I’ve felt as my phone rings and he silences it without breaking our kiss. He’s showing that he’ll spend as long as it takes to show his love for me as he urges me to wrap my legs around his waist and takes me to his bed.

My phone rings again and he lets out a frustrated growl as he breaks our kiss to answer it. He rolls his eyes at the name that flashes and presses the answer button with a little too much aggression.

“Hello?”

I can’t hear what Miguel says but Bucky’s replies are very clear.

“This is her boyfriend.”

“Since when? Since right fucking now.”

He hangs up and tosses my phone to the other side of his bed.

“Boyfriend, huh?” I tease however it falls short when he dips his head to my neck, licking and sucking at my skin.

“Have a problem with it, doll?”

“Not at all.”

[kittlesandbugs]

FHR Prompt: Between the lines Pairing: Chargestep (lil Chargentstep) Warnings: None, mostly fluffy post-sex cuddles Word Count: ~650 Prompt: Prompt to write a gesture, a specific instance, a moment of tenderness, of softness, of emotional depth, of vulnerability. The warm fingertip trails across your skin, and you shiver slightly. You'd blame the cooling sweat across your back if he commented on it, but he doesn't do more than let out a little thoughtful hum. There's a deliberate path to his meandering that you recognize in the unusual pivots and hard turns. He's tracing your skin between your tattoos like it's a maze. 

You shift a little in his lap, drawing your face out of the hollow of his collarbone where you'd buried it as he took you apart. Craning your neck a little to peek up at him, and of course, he's already looking for your reaction. 

“Does that bother you?” he asks, finger stilling over one of the scars on the back of your shoulder that carves through the lines. 

After mulling it over for a moment, you shake your head, humming a negative as you press your lips to the steady pulse in his neck. 

“Only if it bothers you that you've been wetting your dick in a robot,” you tease, getting a very satisfying choked noise in response. 

“It's not my fault the sexiest robot in Los Diablos came onto me," he snarks back once he recovers, finger resuming its wandering through the delicate lines. His other hand on your hip gives you a tender squeeze as you scoff. “She's very difficult to say no to.”

You smirk as your own fingers roam around the ports at the base of his neck, following along his spine. The movie you'd been invited over to watch plays forgotten on the TV behind you, a subtle buzz as pleasant as his skull. At this point, it's a pretext when it's just the two of you.  Seven years is a long time to make up for. More if you’re honest, but he really doesn’t need that much encouragement. Now that he knows what you really are, you rarely turn down his advances. He's never turned down yours. And it's not your fault movies are so flat and boring compared to the telepathic depths you perceive reality in, anyway. 

“At least now I know I don't have to worry about Hollow Ground showing up on my doorstep with a shotgun," he chuckles and presses his lips to the top of your head. 

Your lips curl against his neck. It’s funny, but not in the way he thinks. 

And he doesn't need to know she's already working with your alter ego. Just like he doesn't need to know about your alter ego at all. Despite Argent's insistence to the contrary. If she's allowed her terrible secrets, you're allowed yours.

“Not her, no," you agree. Hollow Ground is no threat to you at all. The opposite, really. “Just…” 

You trail off, not wanting to entertain that thought. There is so much more on the line now. Freedoms that you no longer take for granted. People too, you can admit that in the sanctity of your own skull. It’s really only a matter of time before your luck runs out again and they find you. And they’ll do anything to tear you away and get you back in their cage. You don't realize your arms have tightened around him until his reciprocate. 

“Hey,” he murmurs, turning your face so he can look you in the eye with a sincerity in his deep brown eyes that makes your guts twist. “No one's taking you away ever again, okay? We won't let them. I promise.”

It would be so nice to let yourself believe he and Argent really could keep you safe. But they have no idea what they're really up against. Not like you do. The Farm would kill to have them in their possession too. 

“Don’t make promises you can't keep, idiot,” you mutter, tucking your face back into his shoulder. 

He huffs a laugh against your hair, the barb unable to pierce his unending confidence. “Don't underestimate us, idiot.”

[seramilla]

I was so excited I don’t think I actually finished the sentence in my first ask. Ignore that.

Please can I have more SeraMille adopted daughter Vaggie?!?!?

Idk if this is a new au but this is immaculate. Gimme.

You don’t have to include it but can you imagine

“she was my daughter first!”

“How was she your daughter you weren’t even there?”

Amazingly this works no matter who is saying what.

Carmilla and Sera just stand there dumbstruck for a few moments after Vaggie exits, looking for all the world like fluffed up, crumpled cats who'd been startled by a loud noise. Then, after the fog of confusion has lifted, they both stand there looking at each other, pointing their fingers and/or claws in accusation and bewilderment.

"YOU KNOW VAGGIE?!" both women shout in unison. Then a pause, followed by a "HOW? WHEN? WHY?" They both need to stop reading each other's minds.

After calming down with a few deep breaths, Sera asks in a more measured voice, "How do you know Vaggie?!"

"I'm her mentor!" Carmilla shouts, finding it a little more difficult to understand how the High Seraphim of Heaven knows a former Exorcist in the first place. Especially this one in particular. "Who do you think supplied the Hotel with holy arms? I'm her benefactor now! How do you know her?!"

Sera stands in silence for a minute, then finally admits, "I...I met her during my annual audit of the Exorcist barracks. She was so...private and small. Always off by herself, not training with the others. I wanted to make sure she was okay, and we started talking every year. She started coming out of her shell after that, but I didn't see her again until the Morningstar's daughter showed up at my doorstep!"

Carmilla doesn't seem satisfied with that answer. What business does the High Seraphim of Heaven have mingling with the Exorcists in the first place? Sera had told Carmilla she hadn't wanted anything to do with Adam's (now Lute's) army since the first man fell. But it seems like some of Sera's actions from those times are coming back to haunt her.

And then Vaggie walking right into the room just as Sera had been so thoroughly sucking Carmilla's face...Carmilla wonders if her ego will ever recover from this. How had she not noticed the other angel coming toward her office? She's usually much more aware of her surroundings than this! She's getting slow on the uptake.

"Just so we're clear," Carmilla starts, shooting the Seraphim a glare that's full of more heat than Sera had been expecting, "I am her mentor now. Whatever Adam and Lute did to her, I am the one who's spent the last several months trying to undo all that damage they inflicted on her psyche. I taught her how to fight against her own kind. I'm the one she has sought guidance from. I do not need you interfering and bringing back traumatic memories of that time for her. I love you, but please, if you would...keep your distance from Vaggie."

Sera is absolutely gobsmacked. Her lower jaw literally hangs open at Carmilla's words, unable to believe that the overlord is really asking this of her.

"What...what are you talking about? You don't have any claim to that girl! Who do you think protected her and the other Exorcists in Heaven?! If not for me, Adam may have done so much worse to her, long ago. You know how he treated any soldiers that he deemed weak! I saved her! She was my ward, first!"

Carmilla moves away from Sera. She wants to say so much in response, but what good comes from arguing right now? She hadn't wanted to fight with the Seraphim today. She'd thought they'd moved past so many of their misgivings about each other, but apparently...there is still a lot of baggage there. They will have to deal with it, eventually, if they intend to move forward in this little secret relationship of theirs. But right now...

Vaggie needs comfort. Carmilla needs to find her, explain everything, and make sure she is all right. So instead of arguing, Carmilla turns on her heels, heading for the door to her office. When Sera tries to stop her, Carmilla shoots her a glance. One that beseeches Haven't you caused enough damage today? Sera looks so...meek and disarmed by that glare of hers.

Sera pulls back, and doesn't say anything. Instead, she simply looks at Carmilla in disappointment, opens a portal, and then makes her way back to Heaven, where Carmilla thinks she belongs right now.

It doesn't take long for Carmilla to find Vaggie. Anytime the fallen angel is distressed, her first and primary source of comfort is Charlie, so Carmilla makes her way to the hotel, not ready for the stares from the patrons, or to have to start answering questions for why an overlord is there. Not many in Hell know Carmilla is one of Charlie's greatest allies now, given how fond Carmilla has become of Vaggie.

Her alliances and power are tedious, and her strength lies more in what her enemies don't know, rather than what they do. Vaggie can defend herself just fine, but Carmilla doesn't want to draw any unnecessary attention to the angel, if she can help it.

Carmilla manages to dodge a few patrons in the lobby. Thankfully, most of Charlie's lessons have concluded for the long weekend ahead, so it's not difficult for the overlord to sneak by. She's light on her feet, so making her way up the stairs only manages to alert Alastor, who's been watching her carefully through his shadows. He won't harm her or alert anyone to her presence, though. He knows better than that, with Lucifer around.

Vaggie had confided to Carmilla that she loves the library. She'd spent a lot of time in there after Charlie found her, using it as a sanctuary and an opportunity to learn about her new home here in Hell. That's where Carmilla ultimately finds her, bent over on the floor crying, as Charlie kneels beside her, patting her back and stroking her hair.

Charlie doesn't say anything to the overlord when she notices her...just sort of glares up at her with that same disappointment that Sera had given her before she fucked off back to Heaven. Carmilla decides right then and there that she absolutely despises that look. She's getting it from all sides today!

That's when Vaggie notices Carmilla, too. She looks like she might protest Carmilla's presence here, but Charlie gives the angel a quick peck on her cheek, saying "It's all right, sweetie, I'll be right outside," before shooting Carmilla that fucking disappointed glare again, and leaving to give the two their privacy in the library.

"What do you want, Carmilla?" Vaggie asks, voice all nasally and congested from crying. Vaggie wipes a string of stray snot from her nose. She's trying to hide her face, not quite successfully, hoping that Carmilla won't see her in such a state. Carmilla can't help that sudden sinking feeling of her heart falling into her guts. It's awful. She wants to throw up.

"I wanted to check on you. Make sure you're okay. Vaggie...I'm so sorry you had to witness such a sight. I didn't...I didn't mean for you to see that."

"See what?" Vaggie's tone is a little mocking at this point. She seems done with any explanations Carmilla might give, but still demands answers from her, anyway. "See my mo--mentor fucking kissing an angel?! And Sera of all people?! My first mentor? What the fuck were you thinking, Carmilla?!"

Carmilla's own anger and frustration starts to flare, just a little. Just enough to feel the heat creep up the back of her neck and into her face. She knows Vaggie is confused, but she doesn't have to talk to her like that. She doesn't have the right...

"I was thinking that I love that angel, Vaggie. Which you might know, had you bothered to ask me instead of running away. Mine and Sera's relationship is tenuous, but it goes back much farther than you think. It's complicated. I had no idea of your history with her. If I had, I would have explained myself sooner."

"How can you love her?" Vaggie asks, completely dumbfounded by this revelation from the overlord. She stands up, finally facing Carmilla on her own terms. "Didn't you know she betrayed me and Charlie? She let Adam and his fucking army lay waste to our old hotel! She's sold her fucking soul to Heaven! What is there left to love?!"

"Stop it," Carmilla barks, claws fisting together so tightly, they almost pierce the skin of her palms. Vaggie doesn't know...can't possibly know the history she and the High Seraphim share. Can't possibly comprehend all the invisible strings and power plays at work in Heaven that had forced Sera's hand when it came to Adam. Maybe someday Vaggie will...Carmilla needs to have that conversation with her. Someday. But right now, she's too frazzled.

Every word that Vaggie utters about her lover is like an angelic weapon directly speared through her own heart. Every single one is like a sleight against her personally, in ways Vaggie can't possibly understand. Carmilla's heart is wrenched open like a raw, infected thing. Vaggie can't know all the ways in which her words are physically, emotionally painful. So Carmilla goes easy on her...she doesn't need to know all the details right now. She can still protect Vaggie from that...for a while.

Carmilla moves toward Vaggie, noticing how the little angel flinches and almost pulls back from her, before Carmilla places her hand on Vaggie's cheek. She wipes away the salt and moisture from the stray tears that continue to fall from Vaggie's eye. Her huge claw makes the fallen angel look so small. Vaggie looks up at her then, beseeching Carmilla for answers; desperately seeking realness from one of the few people who bothered to care about her and Charlie down here.

"There is so much I want to tell you," Carmilla explains, but that's as far as that explanation gets. "I will tell you. I promise. You have my word. But for now, just know that Sera's control in Heaven isn't absolute. She and I have a complicated history. But I...I can't help my feelings for her. I'm very sorry you had to find out about it this way. But please...if you can trust me...I won't keep something like that from you again."

Vaggie still doesn't seem to find this explanation adequate, but she nods. She looks off into the middle distance, past Carmilla's shoulder, still visibly frustrated, but her face going softer now.

"...You promise?"

"I promise, mija."

Carmilla pulls Vaggie in for a tight hug, just then. Carmilla is worried Vaggie might pull away, but the fallen angel doesn't.

She actually hugs Carmilla tighter. Carmilla allows herself to let out the relieved, quiet sigh she'd been holding in the last several minutes, and lets her body go slack, as Vaggie buries her face deeper in Carmilla's front.

Thank fuck, Carmilla thinks, that her adopted daughter doesn't hate her.

[mariacallous]

In Hollywood, the present is the future is the past.

Twin strikes shut down production for six months last year, and with its workforce still on ice, the entertainment industry has been slow to recover. Domestic box-office revenue is expected to be 30 percent lower this year compared to 2019. By 2028, cable TV subscriptions are expected to decline by 10 million. And with the looming acquisition of Paramount Global by Skydance Media, the future of Hollywood is as it ever was: reliably uncertain. As one studio executive described it to the Los Angeles Times, it’s “something of an existential question mark.”

Of course, this isn’t Hollywood’s first—or second or third, for that matter—financial reckoning. “When we look closely at history, we realize that all the negotiations we have to make about character, about financing, about representation and all these things have been asked before,” says Maya Cade. “Ego tells us that we must be the first, but why would we want that to be true?”

This, in part, was Cade’s mission when she launched Black Film Archive in 2021. At a “moment when people were demanding the full totality of our lives to be represented in media,” she says, “they felt as if Black film could not hold the capacity for Blackness.” Cade knew better. So she got to work and built what is now the most exhaustive online database of Black cinema titles, spanning diverse, obscure, and well-known films.

A former audience development strategist at the Criterion Collection, she tells me people were missing a larger context to the issues at hand. The archive, which celebrated its third anniversary this August, features more than 300 films released between 1898 to 1999, with each title available to stream online. What Cade has accomplished is both rare and essential: She has indexed a century's worth of Black moviemaking and made it free to access.

Anxious to learn more, I reached out to Cade to help make sense of what’s happening in Hollywood. Over the phone from Los Angeles, where she recently relocated, Cade and I talked about the fate of the entertainment business, the grave implications of the Internet Archive lawsuit, and how we can better preserve history on an internet that likes to forget.

Jason Parham: Is it true that the idea for Black Film Archive sprang from a conversation on Twitter?

Maya Cade: I was on Twitter in June 2020, and I saw a lot of people talking about how racist or dramatic Black films are as a way to dismiss them. So instead of shaming people for that opinion, in my mind I was like, OK, how do I make an offering for people to discuss that belief, to contrast that belief, and also move us past it. I don't want to dismiss the truth because it's harsh. And I know there are many ways to get to the truth. I also don’t want to dismiss people who feel that way. But I want to offer another lens of how they're seeing it. Because when we talk about Black films as only being traumatic, we're reducing the art form in a very minuscule kind of way. This idea of like, “Oh, all these films are about slavery. All of these films are about trauma porn.”

Which, of course, isn’t true.

I did the calculations of how many films are about slavery—and they were quite few across time. But I understand that at the same time, what does it mean when a white decisionmaker wants to see Black people in a specific way? They have the power of how we're told in media. I also understand that film becomes the dominant narrative of how history is told. So there are multiple truths to contend with. But I think we're better prepared to contend with those things when we have a full look of what Black film’s history can offer.

The Internet Archive recently lost an appeal, which could have major ramifications to how we access information. Resources like Black Film Archive and the Wayback Machine are also part of this conversation. This is a bit of an abstract question, but how do we better hold on?

One goal of the early internet was to democratize knowledge. Whether everyone agreed with that is a different point. And the Internet Archive is one of the only things from the early internet to still exist in its same way. Wikipedia, too. These two things are constantly under attack, because to share knowledge freely means that someone wants to come in and control the free flow of knowledge. They want to profit from that.

In so many ways greed has become a default response to various public resources.

With that being known, what do we do? The world has been upended. The only truth that we know is in books. On the internet, AI has turned knowledge upside down. AI leaves out the essence of truth. For example, through summary, it assumes who you are and what you want to know quickly about something, which isn't the same as a human would do it. That process can remove layers of truth at a very basic level. With that being the foundation of the internet of the future, the Internet Archive is essential. In the last 10 years, we have moved away from the internet as a service to the internet of things. An internet as service—it was a destination. It was a place that you could freely roam, explore, and use as a guide.

Is there a way back to that?

If we want places on the internet that aren't run by AI, where knowledge is freely shared, where we can explore as we desire, then we must invest our time, our coins, we must advocate and protect as much as we possibly can. There’s so much on the internet that would crumble if the Internet Archive or Wikipedia falls. That's a threat to many people because, ultimately, when you control the flow of knowledge, you control everything.

The consequences would be extraordinary.

It's almost as if the basic concept of the library would be a pie-in-the-sky idea today, because someone would ask, well, how could I make money from that? When Black Film Archive launched, many people wanted to profit off of it. Many people asked to sponsor it. The thing is, once you create something that becomes a front line of culture, the question isn’t “How do I help sustain you?” The question is “How do I own you?” I said no because I’m firm in Black Film Archive being free.

On the subject of money and ownership: Earlier this year, following the cancellation of several Black TV shows, you wrote, “Studios and streamers no longer care about loyalty or enduring legacy.” Why does Hollywood, in 2024, still have such a difficult time aligning its legacy with its business?

Well, here's the thing, the legacy business, they feel as if that work is behind them.

But isn’t that what Hollywood is built on?

Yes, but to create new legacy and new inroads, to them, that is less important than extracting every possible dollar from existing IP. It’s more “expensive,” quote-unquote, to create something than it is to rest on existing laurels. The beginning of the end of this, to me, was when Warner Brothers and UPN merged into The CW. Now, 20 years later, the CW is a shell of itself. In mergers, you're no longer competing with someone to make the best content. With the merger of Warner Brothers and Discovery, they own, what, one-fourth of TV? That competition era of television—it's over.

Which has a direct impact on the creative side.

The legacy-driven model only happens now in vanity. So a lot of stars are using their own distribution or first-look deals to produce things. And these are the majority of people who are allowed to create. So what does Hollywood mean when the only people who are given freedom are people who have already done the taxing work—if they have at all—to become stars? Hollywood is not in the business of guarantee. Everything must be proven before it's even created.

And if that’s the case, so many people get left out.

And if everything must be proven before it's even created, then Blackness never had a chance. It doesn't have a chance. The fight for nostalgia as currency comes in a moment where some of the highest rated things are non-white. That's not an accident. It’s as if television, media, and filmmaking are becoming manifest destiny in the wrong ways. And there's nothing sadder.

Perhaps we need better frameworks.

People have upended industries to chase Netflix. And no one has caught up. Everything has fallen in this chase. What’s happening now is, people are only duplicating the best and the most watched. There is no diversity in how things are being delivered.

You once described “post-2020 Black media as akin to a modern day blaxploitation boom.” It got me thinking about platforms like Tubi and AllBlk, which are sometimes mocked as being a kind of streaming ghetto, but those same streamers have also given opportunities to young creators.

Blaxploitation, as I was saying, makes way for Spike Lee, it makes way for the '80s independent Black movement that, of course, shapes everything we know about modern Black film and modern Black media. At every valley, there is a peak. It’s the nature of life. So what do I think is ahead? We should be thinking about independent models that have existed before our current era. There are many ways to make media. With pilot season essentially dying, as the studios have announced, what are some ways that Black creators can forge together to make what they desire?

I mean, I don't know if I have the answers, but I do have the curiosity. And oftentimes curiosity and care—and leading with them—can transform how we understand history and the future.

[goldenlionprince]

Don't go breaking my heart

Am I sorry for this? Maybe a little bit. But you know, the plot demands it... So last time we were following Peter in @sorenphelps The Bodyguard AU after he nearly got stabbed by Sirius' very large knife. Now let's see what the boys where up to in the meantime...

@neverenoughmarauders @lovelymasks

--

When they come back to the apartment from their little lunch break nothing much has changed. Sirius is still in a foul mood which is rather unfortunate. James really had hoped that food would help with the whole situation, seeing as they both hadn't eaten that much in the past few days, too busy doing other things – mainly each other. In hindsight that wasn't ideal and could make anyone angry and ready to pick a fight. So a good lunch should have smoothed things over a bit.

But apparently James was wrong. It's not just the lack of food. Ever since Peter's interruption things are off between them and James would very much like to go back to the little pocket of bliss they had before.

Yes, James gets it. He should have told Sirius about Peter having access to the flat through that new, high security fingerprint lock on his front door. It's probably important for him to know about it. But it had slipped James' mind to mention it, it wasn't a secret he had kept from Sirius on purpose. No big deal. Nothing had happened other than Peter looking rather hilarious, almost wetting himself when Sirius had jumped him like a good bodyguard. If anything it should have been a boost to Sirius' ego that he was able to eliminate an intruder in no time at all, even naked and with his mind fully concentrated on James.

James would love to have Sirius' mind back at being fully concentrated on him.

But sadly that beautiful mind is doing something completely different.

“We can't keep this up,” Sirius says out of nowhere, stopping in the middle of the living room.

James sighs. He should have seen this coming. It's not the first time Sirius points out that they shouldn't be doing things. James remembers too well the “no kiss rule” Sirius had put up after James had recovered from his knee shot. Not that James had lived by that rule for too long but still, Sirius isn't entirely wrong. James is still paying him for his service and it doesn't sit right with James either that the implication of him paying for sexual favours is kind of hanging over their heads.

So James nods as he crosses the room to stand in front of Sirius, while Sirius is watching him like a hawk. “Yeah, you're right. It is a little unprofessional, isn't it?”

James watches as relief washes over Sirius. He was ready to fight James on this which is kind of ridiculous. James doesn't need any convincing at this point, especially when he has a solution for their little problem. It's not a big problem anyway, really. Just a little formality. “You're fired.”

Sirius stares at him. Blinks a few times, then frowns. “Wait, what?”

“You're fired,” James repeats with a shrug. He really shouldn't have to say it again. “Easy solution.”

“That's not a solution at all!” Sirius growls and looks at James like he lost his mind. “You need a bodyguard in case you have forgotten.”

James frowns. Really now? That's what he's focusing on? “Nothing has happened to me in months.”

“Yes, because I'm good at what I'm doing!”

Okay, yeah, James was not implying anything else.

Sirius starts to pace back and forth, obviously fuming. This is not at all going how James thought it would. “I bet there are other people out there who can do the bodyguarding instead,” James says, trying to salvage the situation.

It's apparently the wrong thing to say. Sirius stops in his tracks and glares at James. “That's not the point, James. At all.”

“Yes, I'm starting to see I've got it all wrong,” James says and it's probably coming out a lot colder than he thought it would, because now he's getting angry too. It's not fair of Sirius to act like he was dragged into things against his will or like James is too dumb to understand anything. It's just that James thought they would be going somewhere with their relationship. Which, after days and days of kissing, cuddling and sex, he doesn't think is too weird to think or hope for. “I really thought I would be a little bit more important to you than a job. Apparently I was wrong.”

“Since my job is to keep you safe, your safety should be a little bit more important to me than my dick!” Sirius shouts back.

“Interesting thing for you to say after the last few days.” Because really, now we're suddenly all above thinking with our dicks?

Sirius full on glares at him, which is pretty intimidating, but James doesn't back down. He crosses his arms over his chest, his chin held high. “I'm not taking it back.,” he says, glaring back to the best of his ability. “You're fired.”

“You're infuriating,” Sirius hisses at him.

“Right back at you, Stubby.”

For a moment Sirius looks like James has slapped him across the face by using that name. But it really only takes a moment before he recovers, anger right back on his face. “Well, if you think you can do so well without me, then good luck,” Sirius says and shoulders past James to get to the door. James drops his arms and opens his mouth to try and stop him, but Sirius doesn't give him the chance. He rips the front door open and shoots one more glare at James over his shoulder. “I'll be surprised if you survive until tomorrow,” he says and slams the door shut behind himself.

James stares at the closed door. How the hell had that gone wrong so very badly?

[misseviehyde]

BETTER ME, THAN YOU

"Well I can't believe you tracked me down. It's been such a long time since we last spoke. Please sit down and enjoy the drink my butler prepared.

Ohhh, it's too bad you got so sick just before we were ready to test the Elixir. I know it was your dream to try it - but we couldn't afford to let the delicate solution deteriorate whilst we waited for you to recover. I simply had no choice but to try it myself.

Now, I unfortunately have to have a regular supply of the Elixir in order to maintain my new body and there's just not enough for both of us I'm afraid. I already hid all of the equipment and destroyed all the remaining notes along with your grandfathers journal before leaving town. It would take you decades to piece together even the smallest bit of our research, you really are wasting your time.

Look - it isn't just a simple matter of maintaining my physical form. Everyone thinks my male alter-ego is dead and I moved to this town for good reason. I have no intention of ever turning back into that loser.

Since arriving here I've insinuated myself into the richest family in town. I read about their young daughter being kidnapped all those years ago, and knew that if I turned up and pretended to be her after all these years, I could easily replace her. I am Olivia Hyde now .

Frankly - Mrs Hyde was desperarate to believe I was her long lost daughter and any irregularities in the way I behave and act have been overlooked due to my trauma. I of course have no memory of my kidnapping all those years ago.

Awww you think I'm a bad person for impersonating a dead girl? She's probably long gone and these fools would never have found her. Better that I should have all the money and power that would have been hers. Better that it is in my hands and I be the spoiled rich girl I always should have been.

My troubled past gave me an excuse for knowing so little about makeup, hair, girls clothing. But I was a fast learner and with an unlimited supply of money I quickly spoiled myself rotten. I know it all now loser. I know how to dress like a tease and make boys do what I want. I know how to bully and manipulate people. They all think I'm so innocent but I'm the biggest bitch you'll ever meet.

That's right - I'm a spoiled evil slut just like I deserve to be. Assuming Olivia's identity is hardly the worst thing I've done. I'm a bad bad girl and bad things happen to people who get in my way.

Don't you get it simp? The Elixir made me into a fucking Goddess and the more I drink, the more perfect it makes me every day. I'm smarter, stronger and more powerful than any human deserves to be.

So what if the Elixir numbs some emotions? Who needs pity and remorse when you have a tight pussy and can suck big cock when you want? Who needs love when you can have power, money and sex.

You have no idea how good my body feels loser. Soft perfect skin, firm boobs, silky hair. I love how ultra-feminine I am. I love that I can manipulate and control anyone.

The truth is - I wanted this power all those years ago, so I took it from you. I put laxatives in your food - I ensured that it would be me to drink the Elixir not you. I remember how hard I jerked my cock thinking of taking the power from you.

But if I thought jerking off felt good - I never orgasmed so hard as that first time I transformed and became Olivia. As I felt my nails lengthen and my face change I knew that I was finally becoming the person I always should have been. As I grabbed my ass and felt my tits swell up - I knew I would do ANYTHING to keep this body.

Ohhh whoops - did you drop your drink? Are you feeling okay? You look kinda woozy.

Shhhhhh. Don't fight it.

Did you really think I'd just let you waltz in here and take all this away from me. Haha - didn't you learn anything all those years ago.

I spiked your drink again - only this time it isn't laxatives. It's just a little something to help you sleep.

Shhhhhh it will all be over soon. I'll go on living this deliciously evil life and you'll finally be at peace.

You could have had all this - but now it's mine to enjoy. I won't even think of you at all after today - but it will be satisying to know that chapter of my life is over.

Yessss, close your eyes and just... sleep.

Don't feel cheated. Before you go, you just have to accept this was always my destiny.

Better me than you...

[doki-doki-imagines]

Barou and Aryu as pets‼️‼️

I would ask for ahidpu or karasu but karasu is prob/def crow and i feel like shidou would be a cockroach for obvious reasons :>

U can do them if u still wanna tho

Thxx Bye bye :))

Send them in, I may surprise you ;)

Shoei Barou - Lion

-When Oliver asked you to come to practice you thought about various reasons why your presence should have been needed: maybe Barou doesn't feel well, maybe he needs some support, maybe he needs to calm down...all the reasons spin around Barou.

-And you were right, the focal point is Barou, just...something more unusual.

-"Look at him (Y/n)! Isn't he the cutest?" Snuffy shouts, a lion on his hands mane present but not fully developed, eyes as sharp as the finest katana; yeah it was totally your boyfriend.

-"Take care of him, probably tomorrow he will be back to normal" Oliver tells you, face and arms full of scraps, but smile is plastered on his face; someone got it rough...

-Actually taking care of lion Shoei was easier than you thought??? He keeps himself clean and try to bother as little as possible.

-Too bad he has his moment of anger where he shows his teeth, activating your fight or flight instinct (the flight always win).

-At least he has the decency to recognize the mistake, letting you ruffle his mane (he also purrs but it's better to not let him know)

-At the end he falls asleep on the bedroom floor, your hand patting his head 'till sleep took over.

-"Your house is dirty as fuck, I can't stay together with such a pushover" The awakening was traumatic.

-Worse part? You can't even tell him to fuck off, his teeths are still sharp. Best part? He still has cute ears and the tail wagging at each compliment you say to butter up his ego, making him do your house chores.

Jyubei Aryu - Black persian cat

-It all happens when you were visiting a nearby temple, you were prying and puff! All of sudden your beautiful boyfriend turned into a cat!

-A nearby priestess laughed at you "The yokais of this forest love to trick cute couples, don't worry everything will be back to normal tomorrow."

-So after recovering from the shock you went back home, there you finally started to appreciate your boyfriend new form.

-I say finally because Jyubei wanted the compliments way sooner during the travel back home.

-He keeps his drama queen attitude, you never heard a persian cat meowl so much. Why your photo album isn't full of him?? He has been striking the best poses ever.

-You didn't open a Insta account for him because you didn't want to spend your day taking photos; you preferred much more to pet his soft tummy; he liked it way less, his hairs must be perfect!!

-Loud meowls apart you spent a cute afternoon with your furry ball <3.

-"Mh, good morning my dove." Jyubei stretches out, long limbs falling from the couch you've slept on together.

-You feel something soft near your leg, then hips...does he still have the tail?

-You turn around, not only the tail, but also cat-ears! You can't resist that much cuteness, not when his beautiful face is so near yours!

-Your lips meet his ones, while your right hand scratched his fluffy ear.

-The meowl he let out was the best harmony your ears have ever heard; standard Jyubei, either beautiful or nothing.

[liminalpebble]

Between the Lines, Chapter 6

Masterlist link

AN: Hey friends, this chapter is a bit on the dark side. There's a bit of physical violence. Just wanted to give you a heads up, so that if it isn't okay for you, you can leave it be.

Between the Lines, Chapter 6

As you hear the door open, and his footsteps nearing the parlor, you hop up from your chair, determined to intercept him. You may not have the last word today, or ever again, but you'd be damned if you didn't get the first.

You attempt to set your expression to one of focused anger rather than fear, pain, or sadness. You feel more like crying, but you won't give him the perverse satisfaction that would probably afford him.

His emerald cape billows behind him as he nears you with that horrible false smile and cocky strut. When he reaches you, he takes your hand gently in greeting.

Loki opens his mouth to speak but before he can utter even a syllable, you interrupt, yanking your arm out of his grasp.

“You locked me in. You locked me in...like a fucking pet or a criminal.”

He blinks and the line of his mouth becomes straight, thin and tense as a violin string. His icy eyes fix on yours. In a heartbeat, he's gone from suave and playful to furious.

It takes all of your strength not to avert your eyes under the indignation of a god, not to shrivel under the crush of terror pounding away inside your chest.

“Well, hello to you, too. I've missed you as well, darling,” he enunciates, dripping with sarcasm.

But I have missed you...I've missed your terribly. I've loathed every second of this day that kept me from your company, he muses secretly.

You inhale and stand up straighter before speaking.

“May I be frank with you, Sire? I know it's no good lying to you anyway, or playing games. You're the god of that. I know I would lose.”

He shrugs nonchalantly. “Well, of course!”

“Is this what it's to be, then? A life locked away as a pet and a play thing?”

You shake your head and bite your lip, hoping the pain will spur on your anger rather than your tears. Finally, you meet his gaze again.

Loki feels a hairline fracture in his heart. Although you hide it well, he can see the slight glimmer of tears wetting the corners of your eyes, threatening to spill, but you stay your course, unwavering.

He thinks, bravery is so exhausting, my love. I'm impressed, but, let it go.

“I had a life, Your Highness. A purpose. Maybe not an important one by royal standards, but it was important to me. And, honestly, if this....this...gilded prison is what I can look forward to for the rest of my days, then please, I would rather not live them out.”

Loki simply stares, a twitch of adjusted calculation behind the scowl. He thwarts a swell of childish sadness at your rejection of all that he's offered you, all that he worked so painstakingly to enact.

I've made her this spectacular gift and she's simply hurling it to the floor. Would she really rather die than live in the luxury of my adoration?

His licks his wounded ego and changes course.

“Well, well. I like this,” he says with a sudden hungry smile; a predator's show of teeth, not to be confused with a sign of happiness. “What drama! You've certainly found your backbone since yesterday.”

You don't retreat. You step closer, returning his unflinching gaze with your own. “I've had a considerable amount of time to recover it.”

He tuts sarcastically, bowing down to your height and sliding his finger beneath your chin. “Oh, poor pet, has it been so terrible for your to go a few brief hours without my presence? Apologies, my dear, but I have a kingdom to attend to.”

You take a deep breath and close your eyes. He's getting off on this; on riling you. You know it and yet you can't do anything about it. You'd never been someone quick to anger before and the hot sensation of its tension in your body overwhelms you. You wonder if this is how bulls feel when the red flag fails before then.

Before you know it, your hand swings out and the sharp sound of a slap fills the echoing chamber.

It aches, as if that smooth white cheekbone were, indeed, a sharp ledge of marble, yet his head has barely even moved. There will be a bruise coloring your palm later, you realize, if you live that long.

“It's not your kingdom to rule, though, is it? It doesn't need you, and neither do I.”

You launch the words like daggers, and it feels as if one errant blade has sliced its cold way across your vocal cords. Time stands still. You can't speak. You can't think.

Loki's hand clasps around your throat as he pushes you against the wall with a snarl. He rasps into your ear, “Oh, you will need me. You will need me desperately...not just need, but crave with an insatiable hunger. And I bid you remember well, I could leave you to starve.”

His hand releases and you collapse, desperately gulping air. Tendrils of green magic snake their way around you body, keeping you pinned to the wall like prey. As you pant, you feel it. Tears.

No no no no.

You don't know if you're whispering the mantra aloud or simply letting it spin endlessly in your mind. You feel the inexorable path of warm tears sliding down your cheeks, dripping from your lashes.

Loki stands his ground in front of you, but with your eyes averted, all you can see is his chest heaving with the energy of the fight. You smirk ever so slightly, thinking, at least I got to him too.

@lokischambermaid @lokisgoodgirl @peaches1958 @thenerdyoldersister @thedistractedagglomeration @muddyorbs @mischief2sarawr @icytrickster17 @goblingirlsarah @sweetsigyn @unlucky-number-13 @mochie85 @acidcasualties @alexakeyloveloki @loz-3 @jennyggggrrr @ladyofthestayingpower @mischiefmaker615 @loopsisloops @sailorholly @coldnique @smolvenger @ijuststareatstuffhereok89 @gigglingtiggerv2 @anukulee @azula-karai-27 @eleniblue @marcotheflychair @litaloni @gruftiela @literatureatthebowofnails @meowmeow-motherfucker @wolfsmom1