#I got struck by a bolt of inspiration | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

deathmetalunicorn1 · 11 months ago

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i have an aot inspired request that i had in mind for a while to ask for (i didn’t watch aot so excuse me for used not so accurate facts lol)

fem!reader was born into a poor family of 4 (parents, her and her older brother) in paradise island, her father often abused her till he kicked her out at 4 years old to survive alone, she fell into massive tree like ymir but instead of giving her titan powers or something similar, Source of all living matter had fused with her body-almost like making reader its vessel, a visible mark was on her upper body. visual it like a modern abstract tattoo or struck by lightning (or just like it had shown in anime), but it is red color and it’s permanent till it departs from her (at it will), she soon finds a way to sneaks on a Marley, scouts find her and levi adopts her (didn’t immediately but on papers were his last name). She was of great help during the very much entire main event since you can’t kill or hurt her physically so she was putting on traps and getting information and after it all finished she was growing to be a main soldier and captain like Levi, she died later from a some diseases (could be pneumonia (i don’t know if it have a medicine for it in aot so let’s pretend it doesn’t)), she gets known for her flexibility and speed, good with almost every kind of weapons (from pistol and rifle to snipers and swords and grenades) and since she couldn’t die from any physical harm she was getting herself in different places where she could be killed by titans and enemies so she got known as “fake death” or “troublemaker” for one close to her (levi, scouts and such) because she’s quite playful when comfortable with someone and almost reckless…

To actual request itself, how would Hades, Hermes and Apollo react to her and her story, she’s fighting for humanity and she frights against a god and she wins since she still have powers from Source of all living matter in her with a mark and everything, she wins again a god and don’t kill them since she promised to never kill anybody else again at her death bed, so what will happen then? What will be gods reaction to her story? who wanted to sway her off her feet? or who will just stay in their line and maybe try to befriend reader?

-There were many gods who didn’t know you, who didn’t know what you could do, the power you held in your body, many called it the Source of All, a boundless amount of energy that you obtained when you were still young and alive on earth.

-This power, which you initially thought was a curse, as the mark it put on your body, looking like a bolt of scattered lightning which would glow when you used your strength, which people thought was unnatural, you grew to adore and appreciate. You had saved so many people using this power.

-You used this to fight alongside other warriors, beating back your enemies, earning your nickname, Trickster, as you would play dead, letting them get close, only to strike quickly and brutally.

-It wasn’t until you died, young unfortunately, from pneumonia of all things, that you realized how fragile life really was, and as you took your last breaths, you had vowed to never kill another again.

-When you came to Valhalla you met so many other strong warriors, and while you were against killing, you loved training with strong people, humans and gods you didn’t have to hold back against, showing your true strength.

-Your power- your strength is what made Brunnhilde approach you about fighting in Ragnarok. You were initially against it- you flat out told Brunnhilde that you weren’t going to kill anyone else, and you only agreed to fight if you could leave your opponent alive.

-The gods were quick to underestimate you, seeing that you were so young, thinking you would be an easy win. As your powers flared, the mark on your body flaring to life, glowing brightly, Odin could only gawk, seeing the power you held in your body.

-You charged in, showing your combat skills, showing everyone that just because you were young, you weren’t a pushover.

-Heimdall spilled all your secrets, telling everyone about you- how you had been abused by your father until you were four, when you found the Source of All, then you became the vessel for that power, and you grew into a powerful warrior on your own, being taken in by other warriors, adopted by one of the most powerful ones, Levi (sorry I don’t know AOT).

-Your strength was legendary, as not even the strongest of titans and enemies could hurt you, as your power was keeping you safe from harm, and that was apparent here, as your opponent wasn’t doing much against you.

-Many of the gods were stunned to see you fighting so hard, to protect humanity, despite facing so much pain in your short life- it was humbling to see someone fighting so hard for those who had been so cruel to you, at least some of the people.

-As you stood over your opponent at the end of the match, the clear winner, you sheathed your weapon, a short sword. Many were yelling at you, telling you to finish the job.

-Your eyes were sharp, narrowed in anger as you spoke up at them, “Unless you’re going to get down here and fight me too- then you don’t get to make any demands of me. I refuse to kill another. Life is precious as it is fragile. Don’t call for the death of others unless if you’re going to fight as well.”

-You were quick to shut everyone up and you even helped your opponent up and dragged him backstage, holding his arms over your shoulders, dragging him behind you as you weren’t the tallest of people, and you took him all the way to the infirmary.

-When he asked you, while getting patched up, why you didn’t kill him, you just beamed brightly, looking like the teenager you truly were, “Life’s too precious to just kill someone just because. I’m not going to kill someone when you’re fighting just like I am.”

-You were an oddball, but he wasn’t going to look this gift of not losing his life in the mouth.

-Hades- He was surprised by your words, that you refused to kill, despite the gods wanting to destroy humanity, and while he wasn’t complaining, he was just confused, after you had killed so many enemies while you were alive, why were things so different now. He asked you while you sat beside him, keeping him company and you couldn’t help but send him a playful wink, “You should know better than most gods on how fragile life is. I didn’t realize that myself until I died, getting sick of all things. If I was the one killing others, ending their lives so easily- it made me… I-I just never want to kill again.” You were a kindhearted person, your words resonating with him, as he knew that well, after seeing his brother and his nephew dying. He reached out his hand for you to take and you took his without hesitation, “You’re a kind person Y/N.” you beamed brightly, thanking him for his words, which made him smile softly.

-Hermes- He agreed with your words, he knew how fragile the lives of others were, after watching so many die, both humans and gods, and he had to respect your decision not to kill him- he was alive because of that decision. You had the power to easily take him on in combat- you could probably take on any of the gods with your power. He could see the marks on your body, up close now, and they looked like a scar, like when someone would get hit by lightning, it looked like it would be painful and he reached out, taking one of your hands in his own, surprising you. He looked at your scar, a sad look on his face, “Does it hurt?” you were surprised by his words, but you grinned, “I remember it hurting when I first got it, as my body had to get used to it- but not anymore, it’s just hot!” You were so bright, so full of life, he didn’t want to snuff that life out, he didn’t want to snuff any of it out.

-Apollo- He could only stare at you, seeing you smiling so warmly at him, explaining yourself. You were so… so true- you were unapologetically you, and you looked so beautiful, inside and out. He was grateful you had spared his life, getting to live another day, but to see that you were such a lovely person on top of it was even more humbling. Apollo reached a hand towards you, and you took it, holding it with both of yours and he had to smile, feeling how warm your hands were, “You are an amazing person Y/N. I’m grateful to have met you.” You were surprised by his words, and he couldn’t help but smile as your cheeks turned a bit red, a little embarrassed by his praise, showing that you wore your emotions on your sleeve. You were a very complex person, but he wanted to know more about you as you made him feel so happy.

#record of ragnarok #ror x reader #ror hades #ror hermes #ror apollo

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xxspringmelodyxx · 9 months ago

Text

Masked Affections~

What happens when you are the villain in this case, rather than the hero?

Possibly various JJK men x F!Reader (Part I)

P.S, sorry if this sucks. It’s 2 am right now, but I couldn’t sleep. Anyways I hope you still enjoy my lovelies! <3

Warnings: Violent themes, a bit of character change in terms of the Itadori family, but you’ll see why.

Draping the mask over my face to conceal my features, I cautiously navigated the bustling streets under the radiant sun. Amidst the throng of people, from young children to the elderly, I sought refuge in the shadows, endeavoring to blend into the background seamlessly. With practiced stealth, my hand slipped into my pocket, retrieving my phone with a swift motion. Hastily unlocking the device, I scrutinized the image of my next target, committing his facial details to memory. During my scavenge, a voice crackled to life in my earpiece, “He should be to your left, about 30 feet away.”

Following the instructions, I diverted my gaze from the picture, scanning the vicinity for my target. Sure enough, there he stood, clad entirely in black, engaged in conversation on his phone. It appeared as though he awaited transportation, unsuspecting of the impending encounter.

As you observe your target, a sense of anticipation fills the air. With each passing moment, the weight of your mission hangs heavy on your shoulders. Despite the hustle and bustle of the crowded streets, you remain focused, your senses sharp and your determination unwavering.

With the guidance of the voice in your earpiece, you track your target's movements with precision, ensuring that every step you take brings you closer to your objective. As you inch closer, your heart pounds in your chest, the adrenaline coursing through your veins heightening your senses.

With a quick glance around to ensure that you remain undetected, you take a deep breath and steel yourself for what comes next. Whether it's a quick and clean extraction or a more elaborate plan, you know that success hinges on your ability to remain calm and collected in the face of danger.

As you prepared to make your move, a surge of confidence welled up within you. Years of training and countless missions had honed your skills, and you felt prepared for whatever challenges lay ahead. Yet, you knew that acting impulsively now would jeopardize everything you had worked for. You needed to bide your time, find the perfect opportunity to strike when the odds were in your favor.

Glancing once more at the target's phone, inspiration struck like a bolt of lightning. An idea formed in your mind, a plan taking shape with each passing second. This wasn't just about taking him out; it was about doing so with precision and finesse, ensuring that no one would suspect your involvement. With determination fueling your actions, you set the plan into motion, ready to outmaneuver your adversary and emerge victorious.

"You need to act now, sis. Otherwise, he'll slip through our fingers, and we'll lose our chance to put an end to this. Do you really want to come back to father and face his wrath because of our failure to execute this mission?" Kai's voice conveyed a sense of urgency and apprehension as he emphasized the consequences of inaction.

"No, Kai. If I make a move now, it'll attract too much attention," I replied, my voice low but determined. "We need to be strategic about this." I spoke, listening into his conversation on his phone.

"Listen, I need you to tap into his phone and find out everything you can," I instructed urgently, my tone serious. "We need to know who he's talking to, what his next move is, everything. Maybe we can find a way to get him alone."

"Got it," Kai replied confidently. "I'll do my best to get the information as quickly as possible."

As he went to work, I waited in the shadows, my heart pounding with anticipation. Every second felt like an eternity as I held my breath, ready to spring into action at a moment's notice. The weight of the mission hung heavily on my shoulders, and I couldn't afford to make any mistakes.

"Okay, he’s talking with another man on the line," Kai's voice crackled in my earpiece. "Says something about a car about a mile away is coming to pick him up. I really think you should get this done and over with before that car comes.”

"Kai, just stick to your expertise, and I'll stick to mine. Trust me, I've got this," I murmured, my voice barely audible amidst the bustling street.

"Do you think you can hijack the car's GPS? I need you to reroute it," I urged, a hint of urgency seeping into my tone.

"Don't worry, sis. I've got this covered. It's a piece of cake. Where should I send the car?" Kai reassured, his confidence unwavering as he delved into the task.

"Direct it to Avengard Avenue. I'll be waiting there," I instructed, my focus sharpening with each passing second.

"Got it. Sending the car to Avengard Avenue now," Kai confirmed, his fingers flying across the keyboard with precision.

"Thanks, Kai. I'll be in touch if anything comes up," I said, a sense of determination driving me forward as I prepared to execute the plan.

As I deactivated my earpiece, I swiftly slipped away from the bustling crowd, blending into the shadows as I navigated towards the designated location. Fortunately, my familiarity with the area allowed me to arrive within minutes, weaving through dimly lit streets and desolate alleyways.

——

The atmosphere was starkly different from the vibrant hustle and bustle of the previous location. Here, silence hung heavy in the air, broken only by the occasional sound of distant traffic. The eerie emptiness sent shivers down my spine as I scanned the surroundings, anticipation building with each passing moment.

I paced the deserted streets, my senses on high alert, every passing second feeling like an eternity as I awaited the arrival of the car.

"Hey there, sweetheart. What brings a lovely lady like you to this desolate corner?" An older man's raspy voice sliced through the eerie silence. I glanced in his direction, noting his disheveled appearance—tattered clothes, unkempt beard, and a myriad of scars present on his weathered face. With a dismissive roll of my eyes, I continued on my path, paying him no heed, my focus unwavering.

”Hey, come on~ I won’t bite…Well not yet at least.” He said, following me. I stopped in my tracks, turning towards him with a deadly glare.

”Listen, I don’t have time for whatever this is. So I’m gonna let you go with a warning. Now back off.” I said, going back to scanning the area for any sign of the approaching car. Suddenly, I felt a strong grip enclose around my arm, pulling me forcefully towards him.

“You fucking brat! I should teach you a lesson about how to talk to adults! Maybe then you will show me some respect!” The man spoke through his teeth.

Reacting swiftly, I lashed out with a swift strike to his jaw, the impact resounding with a sickening crack. He recoiled in agony, clutching his injured jaw as blood seeped from the wound.

”You bitch! I’ll make you pay for that!” He yelled, running after you.

I rolled my eyes as I watched him run towards me. Poor fool. With a calculated inhale, I lowered my mask, revealing a smirk of disdain for the man before me. Just as he closed in, I opened my mouth and unleashed a piercing scream that reverberated through the air, its forceful shockwave propelling him backwards with a violent force. The sheer power of my voice seemed to distort the very fabric of reality, sending ripples through the surrounding environment and causing debris to scatter like leaves in a storm. The sound of my own voice drowned out his screams of agony as he collided with the wall, his body trembling under the onslaught of sound waves. I observed his futile struggle, a silent witness to the havoc I had wrought. As the crumbling building echoed the turmoil within, I silenced my voice and concealed my identity once more, leaving the scene with a sense of grim resolve. Approaching the man with an unwavering gaze, I watched as fear consumed him, driving him further into the confines of his own demise.

”P-Please! I won’t bother you anymore! Just please have mercy on me! Please!” He cried out. His plea for mercy fell on deaf ears, drowned out by the chaos he had invited upon himself. Despite his cries, I remained unmoved, my smirk a cold reflection of his desperation.

“Oh how I love it when they beg~” I said, grabbing my knife and quickly slitting his throat without him noticing.

The suddenness of his demise left him stunned, his eyes widening in disbelief as the sharp blade swiftly ended his life. His final moments were marked by a realization of the inevitability of his fate, tears mingling with the blood that stained his face. As his head rolled to the ground, a single tear mirrored his silent plea for mercy, a fleeting acknowledgment of the end.

“Waste of time.” You mumbled, quickly kicking his head.

As the car approached, its looming presence interrupted the eerie silence of the desolate area. You quickly retreated into the shadows, your senses alert as you observed the unfolding scene. The driver emerged from the vehicle, his gruff voice slicing through the quietude as he impatiently dialed a number, his urgency palpable in the air.

His voice was tinged with impatience and frustration as he barked into his phone, "Hey, I am here. Where are you? We need to make this quick." My gaze narrowed at the tall figure, dressed entirely in black, his slicked-back hair reeking of an overpowering scent that seemed to permeate the air. "What do you mean you don’t see me? There’s no one else here!" he yelled into the phone, his agitation evident in every word.

Seizing the moment, I stealthily approached the car, swiftly closing the distance between us. With practiced precision, I pressed the cold steel of my knife against the man's throat, sensing his body stiffen with alarm..

”Shhh…I promise this will be quick. Don’t make it harder than it needs to be," I whispered softly, my voice barely audible over the ambient noise.

“What the hell-“

Before he could finish his statement, I slit his throat, hearing his voice go out.

I then retrieved his phone, quickly slipping it into my pocket. Opening the driver's door, I slipped into the seat, starting the car with a sense of urgency. With a screech of tires, I sped away from the scene, leaving faint marks on the ground where the car had been parked. Reconnecting my earpiece, I called out to my brother.

”I'm in the car now. All that's left is to deal with the man," I stated firmly.

"Just make it quick. Father is growing impatient," my brother urged.

"Tell him it will be over as soon as I handle this," I replied with exasperation.

"I can’t say that. You know how he gets," he countered, his frustration mirroring mine.

I sighed heavily, feeling the weight of the situation.

"I know, I know. Just give me 10 minutes. That's all I ask," I pleaded, before swiftly shutting off my earpiece.

—

I pulled up to the man, the car door swinging open as he sank into the plush leather seat with an exasperated sigh. His impatience was palpable, and his words dripped with veiled threats.

"Took you long enough. You’re lucky I even pay you after that. Next time, if you are late again, I’ll have you replaced just like that," he growled, snapping his fingers with an air of menace.

"Oh, don’t worry…I’ll make sure it never happens again," I responded coolly, watching a flicker of confusion dance across his features. His eyebrows furrowed, betraying his suspicion as he detected the subtle shift in my tone and demeanor.

But beneath the surface, a storm brewed within me. This man, so accustomed to wielding power and instilling fear, had no idea of the intricate web I had woven around him. He was a pawn in a game much larger than he could fathom, and soon, he would come to realize the gravity of his mistakes.

“What happened to your voice?" The man's puzzled tone sliced through the tension-filled air.

With a calculated calmness, I offered my explanation. "Oh, I switched with the other driver. Seems he had to make a hasty exit, leaving me to take over and ensure you didn't miss your ride," I explained, though I could sense his skepticism lingering beneath his furrowed brows. Despite his doubt, a smirk danced across my features as I steered the car towards an abandoned area, knowing the revelation would soon unfold.

"Uh…where are you taking me?" His voice trembled with uncertainty as he cautiously reached for his concealed weapon.

I glanced at him through the rearview mirror, my expression concealed behind the mask. "Just a little detour," I replied, my tone laced with a hint of amusement.

As the car came to a halt, the man's eyes widened, scanning the rundown buildings that loomed before us. His fingers tightened around the grip of his gun, his knuckles turning white with tension.

With a calculated calmness, I turned off the ignition and shifted my gaze back to him. "Relax," I said, my voice low but steady. "We're just going to have a little chat."

With a clenched jaw, I peered into the rearview mirror, my gaze reflecting the rage burning within me. The man’s cavalier attitude toward the consequences of his actions only fueled my determination. Memories of the anguish my family endured at his hands surged to the forefront of my mind, stoking the flames of vengeance that consumed me.

As you contemplate your father's influence and control over your life and the life of your brother, a chilling reminder begins to dawn on you. His actions, his demands—they all stem from a place of deep-seated resentment and thirst for revenge.

You remember the bitterness in his voice whenever he spoke of past grievances, real or imagined. Itashi Kokomi, your father, the man Mr. Takeda fired without a second thought, was just one among many casualties in his quest for retribution.

“Mr. Takeda,” I began, my voice icy and controlled. “Do you remember a man that went by the name of Itashi Kokomi?”

The man in the passenger seat looks at the back of your head with concern, sensing the gravity of your inquiry. "The name rings a bell. Why?" he responds cautiously.

My grip tightened on the steering wheel as I delved deeper into the interrogation, each word laden with the weight of years of suffering. “Do you remember the day you fired him?” I prodded, my voice tinged with barely contained fury.

His response was callous, devoid of remorse or compassion. “Of course! I did what I needed to. He was a waste of my time. Always messing my plans up and losing my business money,” he grumbled bitterly, his resentment evident.

I fought to maintain my composure, my mind racing with thoughts of retribution.

But your next question stops him short. "Did you know that he has kids?" you ask, your voice steady despite the turmoil raging within you.

The man’s indifference cut through me like a knife, his words dripping with disdain. "Well, he mentioned them. But I never thought much of it. If he was worried about his kids, his family, he should’ve worked harder. He should’ve made himself worthy," the man says.

As you pose the question, a somber note creeps into your voice, weighted by the gravity of the revelation.

"Mr. Takeda, did you also know that he had a wife, the mother of his children… who also happened to be sick?" you inquire, your words laden with a mixture of sorrow and accusation.

The man's expression shifts, his features contorting with a flicker of recognition. "I... I had no idea," he stammers, caught off guard by the unexpected turn in the conversation.

But you press on, your determination unyielding. "She was battling a serious illness, one that required costly treatments and round-the-clock care," you continue, your voice trembling slightly with suppressed emotion.

"And yet, despite the immense burden she carried, he was forced to endure the added weight of unemployment and destitution, all because of a decision made by you," you add, your gaze locking onto his with unwavering intensity.

For a moment, silence hangs heavy in the air, punctuated only by the distant hum of passing traffic. In that brief pause, the weight of your words lingers, casting a pall over the shared space of the car.

"Days went by and turned into weeks," you continue, your voice heavy with sorrow as the weight of those lost moments presses down on you like a suffocating blanket. "Those weeks turned into months. Day by day, she got worse and worse until eventually..."

Your words catch in your throat, the raw anguish of that painful memory threatening to choke you. The image of her fading away before your eyes, her once vibrant spirit slowly extinguished by the relentless march of time, sears itself into your mind like a brand.

"...until eventually, she passed away," you finally manage to utter, each syllable a dagger twisting in your heart as you relive the agony of that moment all over again. "And all because we couldn’t afford it anymore," you seethe, your gaze boring into Mr. Takeda with unbridled contempt.

"Itashi didn’t take it too well, either," you continue, your voice tinged with sorrow as you recount the tragic transformation that befell your once kind-hearted father. "After her passing, he changed into someone I didn’t know. He was no longer the kind and sweet man I once looked up to…no. He changed and turned into someone vile and full of hatred."

The memories flood back with painful clarity, each recollection a jagged shard of broken glass cutting into your soul. You remember the way your fathers laughter had once filled the room, his eyes alight with warmth and compassion. But now, all you can see is the cold, steely glint in his gaze, the bitterness and resentment etched into every line of his face.

"He blamed you for everything," you continue, your voice trembling with the weight of your emotions. "He couldn't bear the thought of her suffering, of losing her because we couldn't afford her treatment anymore. And even after all that, he began to turn his anger on us, on me and my brother, as if we were somehow responsible for his own misfortunes."

The silence that follows your revelation is deafening, each passing moment filled with the weight of unspoken truths and shattered illusions. You can feel the tension thickening the air, wrapping around you like a suffocating blanket, as the implications of your words hang between you and your companions like a heavy fog.

“Do you know what he would do to us?” I whispered, my voice slowly breaking.

“Us?” Mr. Takeda interjected, his tone laced with concern as he began to connect the dots.

“He took me and my brother…and he tortured us for days on end. He was so angry…with you…yet he took it out on us…” I said, my voice softening up as memories of my brother and I replayed in my head. The pain of those days still felt fresh, like an open wound that refused to heal..

The man remained silent for a bit, seemingly processing everything that was unfolding. With a grunt, he began to speak, his words tinged with defiance.

“Seems that it is your father's fault, kid… Now, I don’t know who you think you are… but you're making a big mistake… messing with me. I could have you killed if I wanted.” His hand darted for his gun, and in one swift motion, he brandished it, aiming directly at my head and cocking the gun with a chilling click..

I glared at him through the rear view mirror. As the tension in the air thickened, I held my ground, still meeting his gaze with steely determination.

“Go ahead, pull the trigger,” I challenged, my voice steady despite the adrenaline coursing through my veins. “But know this, Mr. Takeda, my father's wrath will find you, whether I'm here or not. You can't escape the consequences of your actions forever.”

Mr. Takeda's grip tightened on the gun, his eyes narrowing in uncertainty. Minutes passed like hours as we stared each other down, the weight of our words hanging heavy in the air.

“I’m gonna give you the count of three to get the hell out of this car.”

I smiled, chuckling to myself, undoing my seatbelt.

”One….two…” He started, placing his hand on the trigger.

”Three.” I interrupted. With practiced precision, I ducked just as Mr. Takeda's shot rang out, the bullet whizzing past my ear and shattering the car window behind me. Seizing the moment, I lunged forward, grabbing hold of his outstretched arm and twisting it behind his back with all my strength.

Mr. Takeda howled in pain as I pinned him against the seat, his gun clattering to the floor. Ignoring his struggles, I focused on immobilizing him, using my body weight to keep him pinned down. With his free hand, he attempted to reach for his fallen weapon, but I was too quick for him.

In one swift motion, I snaked my arm around his neck, applying pressure to his windpipe and cutting off his air supply. His movements grew frantic as he gasped for breath, his face turning red with exertion.

"Let's not make this any more difficult than it has to be," I whispered, my voice cold and menacing. "Cooperate, and you might just live to see another day."

But Mr. Takeda was beyond reason, his desperation fueling his defiance. With a sudden burst of strength, he attempted to throw me off, but I held firm, refusing to yield an inch.

It was clear that he would not go down without a fight, and neither would I.

"If you wanna kill me, just do it already," he challenged, his voice tinged with defiance.

I paused, locking eyes with him for a moment before a sly grin spread across my lips. "Oh, I'm not going to kill you… well, not yet at least," I remarked cryptically, relishing in the uncertainty that flickered across his features.

Before he could muster a response, I swiftly delivered a powerful blow, rendering him unconscious in an instant. With practiced efficiency, I secured him in place, ensuring he posed no further threat.

As I settled back into the driver's seat, a nagging thought tugged at the corners of my mind. "Father still wants to have a word with you," I mused aloud, more to myself than to the unconscious man beside me. I started the car up once more and began to drive.

With the task at hand completed, I reported calmly through the earpiece, "It’s done. I’m bringing him back now," my voice betraying none of the adrenaline coursing through my veins.”

"Good. I'll notify father right away. Be careful now. You’re still messing with a powerful man, and it won’t be long until his minions figure out something is wrong. I’ll be sure to turn off any cameras you come in contact with to ensure no one finds out it was you," Kai warned through the earpiece.

I hummed in acknowledgment, expressing my gratitude before swiftly turning off the device. With caution as my ally, I navigated the streets, keenly aware of the potential dangers lurking in the shadows. Slowly but surely, I made my way back to our hideout, my senses attuned to any signs of pursuit or suspicion..

—-

“Did you get any leads yet on who caused these deaths?" Satoru asked, his gaze fixed on the lifeless bodies before him. The gruesome sight of their decapitated heads left an unsettling feeling in the air.

"Not yet. We tried investigating, but this part of town is completely rundown. There are no functioning cameras or witnesses," Kento replied, his eyes scanning the scene for any clues.

"You think it's another curse?" Satoru inquired, his mind racing with possibilities.

"It's unclear. There's a high chance it could be, but there's also the possibility of a cursed user being involved," Nanami explained, weighing the probabilities carefully.

Satoru's phone buzzed with an alert from Yuuji and Nobara, drawing his immediate attention. Curious, he quickly checked the message, his expression shifting as he read it. Satoru chuckled at the lighthearted message from them, relieved that it wasn't a dire situation. He replied with an enthusiastic confirmation, urging them to pick a place they all liked. With a smile, he tucked his phone away, glad for the brief respite from the usual chaos of cursed spirits and investigations.

"Well...keep me updated. I gotta go" Satoru declared, rising to his feet with a sense of urgency.

Satoru's sudden departure left Nanami somewhat perplexed, his gaze following his colleague as he strode away with an air of nonchalance. "You mean you're just going to leave?" Nanami queried, a hint of incredulity coloring his tone.

Satoru glanced back with a grin, his eyes alight with mischief. "Of course! Yuuji and Nobara are practically begging for sushi, and I can't say no to them. Plus, I just promised them I'd drag Megumi along too," he explained, his words trailing off as he continued on his way.

Left alone amidst the somber scene, Nanami sighed softly, his thoughts momentarily drifting to the camaraderie shared among their team. Despite the gravity of their work, there were moments of levity and connection that reminded them of the importance of friendship and solidarity in the face of darkness. With a shake of his head, Nanami refocused his attention on the task at hand, silently vowing to continue their investigation with diligence and determination.

”You’ve gotta be kidding me.” Nanami thought as he watched the white haired man walk away.

——

As Satoru strode away, his earlier grin fading, a furrow formed on his brow, betraying the weight of his thoughts. The gravity of the situation settled upon him like a heavy cloak, prompting a flurry of calculations and considerations in his mind. Whoever or whatever was behind this knew their craft well, leaving behind a trail of enigma and intrigue that seemed to defy easy resolution.

Gears turned in his head as he mulled over the intricacies of the case, each possibility and permutation scrutinized with a keen eye for detail. It was clear that unraveling this mystery would require more than just brute force; it would demand a blend of intuition, strategy, and perhaps a touch of luck.

With a determined nod, Satoru pressed on, his resolve unyielding despite the daunting task ahead. Though the road ahead was fraught with uncertainty, he remained steadfast in his pursuit of justice and truth.

—-

The man’s cries echoed through the dimly lit room, mingling with the twisted laughter of your father, whose eyes gleamed with madness as he reveled in the torment he inflicted. “You ruined my life! You ruined my kids’ life! You took everything from me!” the man shrieked, his anguish punctuating the air like a jagged dagger.

Standing beside Kai, you remained outwardly composed, though beneath the facade, turmoil churned within you. You exchanged a glance with Kai, sensing his fear, and offered him a reassuring squeeze of the hand. “It’s going to be okay. Soon, we will all be one happy family again…”

The words slipped from your lips like a rehearsed script, honed through years of manipulation and coercion. Deep down, you knew they were lies, yet they served their purpose in placating Kai's mounting apprehension.

Your own doubts were buried beneath layers of conditioning, the remnants of a childhood spent under your father's malevolent influence. With each passing day, his tendrils of control tightened around your mind, weaving a web of deceit and manipulation.

As you exchanged that fleeting glance with Kai, you saw the reflection of your own fears mirrored in his eyes. The facade of composure you both wore masked a maelstrom of emotions��fear, doubt, and a gnawing sense of dread that threatened to consume you whole.

But outwardly, you maintained the illusion of unity and obedience, for that was the only currency accepted in your father's twisted world.

Your father's voice cut through the eerie silence, his words dripping with malice as he outlined your next mission—an assignment that would test the limits of your loyalty and resolve. "Children, I have one final task for you, one that will cement our supremacy once and for all."

As he spoke, the name "Itadori" hung heavy in the air, a bitter reminder of past betrayals and unhealed wounds. The Itadori family, once trusted allies turned bitter enemies, had incurred your father's wrath through an act of treachery that had shattered any semblance of trust between them.

With a steely resolve, your father outlined the specifics of the mission, his words resonating with a sense of grim determination. "You are to target the last remaining member of the Itadori family—Yuuji Itadori. He is our greatest adversary, the thorn in our side that must be removed at all costs. I’ve done some research on the kid and it turns out, he is working to be a jujutsu sorcerer…just like his grandfather…” Your father continued, bitterness seeping out. The rift between your family and the Itadoris traced back to a dark chapter in the past, one marked by betrayal and stolen affections. It all began with Yuuji's grandfather, a strong jujutsu sorcerer. A man whose charming facade masked a treacherous heart.

Decades ago, he ensnared your father's mother in a web of deceit and desire, luring her away from her rightful place beside your father's father, or in other words, your grandfather. The illicit affair shattered the fragile bonds of trust between the two families, igniting a feud that would span generations.

The repercussions were devastating. Your father's family was torn asunder by the scandal, their once-united front fractured by the betrayal of a loved one. As the years passed, bitterness festered in the hearts of your family, fueling a desire for vengeance that lingered like a poison in the family's bloodline.

“So it’s most likely he is being protected by some of the best sorcerers out there as of right now…so, as I said before, this will be a tough mission. But I know you kids will do good just for your father, correct?” He asked, making your brother tense up.

”I-I don’t know father. Shouldn’t we just leave all that drama in the past and let the boy live? He had nothing to do with-“

”Silence!” The father yelled at your brother, using his cursed energy on him. Kai bent down in pain as your father messed with his mind.

”Father please, that is enough! We will do what you wish, just please stop hurting him!” You begged, getting on your knees.

He looked down at you and scoffed, putting his torturing methods on your brother to an end.

”Good. Now that that is out of the way, I believe you two have something to do? Now get to it. Remember what happens if you two fail. And trust me, I will not be as merciful as I have been in the past.” He said, walking back to Mr. Takeda and continuing his torture methods on him instead.

You ran up to your brother and helped him, trying to soothe his mind.

Now, tasked with avenging the sins of the past, you stood at the precipice of a new chapter in the age-old conflict. The weight of history bore down upon your shoulders as you prepared to confront the last remaining scion of the Itadori line, knowing that the ghosts of the past loomed large over the path ahead. You would do whatever it takes to stop this all. To make everything normal once again. And if that meant getting rid of Yuuji Itadori, then so be it.

”Yuuji Itadori, enjoy the next upcoming days…for one of them may just be your last…”

________________

taglist??

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felixravinstills · 5 months ago

Text

Coriolanus Snow & Felix Ravinstill: What's in a name?

o puer, qui omnia nomini debes. / Oh, boy, who owes all to a name.

Creator's Notes:

I actually really need to be doing grown up stuff right now, so if I'm weirdly silent after I post this, that's why! Unfortunately, I got hit by inspiration, so my attention has been split. The final piece of the puzzle that I started putting together since writing Tu Fui, Ego Eris finally dropped into my lap!

Latin quote from Cicero's Philippics (13.11): Cicero ascribes the quote to Mark Antony referring to Octavius (later known as Augustus Caesar)

Gifs created by me from TBOSAS movie

English translation of felix taken from Lewis & Short's 4th possible definition.

Quote from TBOSAS Ch. 4

Screenshot from the Wikipedia page for "Gnaeus Marcius Coriolanus"

Screenshot from the Wikipedia page for "cognomen"

Quote from Shakespeare's Julius Caesar (Act 1, Scene 2)

Quote from TBOSAS' epilogue

Illustration of Romulus killing Remus (unable to find a proper source for it. If you know where exactly it's from (book, artist, not all the website reposts I saw), let me know! I got this image from an Ebay seller with prints).

...

I've contemplated potential Cain-Abel parallels between these two, but the Romulus-Remus parallel that struck me like a bolt from the blue really blew my mind. It actually really matches with this webweaving(?) because Romulus and Remus did disagree about the naming of the city... Anyway, while making this, I lowkey forgot that Felix's Death-by-Coriolanus-Arranged-Car-"Accident" isn't canon.

I was tempted to quote Shakespeare's Coriolanus for when the titular character receives his cognomen instead of the Wikipedia pages, but I think this helps emphasize the name bestowed because of deeds idea without any distraction from the point. Also putting the two Wikipedia pages really emphasizes it... rip the second screenshot having smaller text, but that's the page layout's fault, and I'm too lazy to fix it.

#i love this dynamic that i 95% made up. i truly have gaslit myself to think felix is the most interesting character (nothingburger man <3)#anyway this might be the first time I've clearly seen Snow's child actor in the movie <- i have bad eyesight #abyssal stuff #abyssal gifs #web weaving #webweaving #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #felix ravinstill #tbosas #the hunger games #coriolanus snow #president snow #thg series #gifset #thgedit #tbosasedit

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blackdollette · 1 year ago

Note

i noticed a lack of kappa content too 🤨 if u r fine with writing kappa just hear me out on this (inspired by my c.ai convo with my own kappa bot)

kappa breaking into some random persons house just to steal but shes a bit of a night owl. he quietly walks to the living room and sees this adorable more than likely rich housewife (so yeah theres a tad bit of cheating.) anyways her husbands out for a few weeks for business and shes in her short satin nightgown, sat on the couch and watching tv. and then she sees the intruder and is like "AHH OMG WTF" (rightfully so coz bro BROKE IN) and hes like "my bad. didnt mean to startle you, doll." (coz hes flirtatious like dat) and he walks over and lifts her up, hand holding her neck tightly and he runs his fingers across her pearls, yanking on the necklace. the pearls dont fall ofc (coz real pearls have knots between each pearl to prevent them falling like that... my great grandma had a lot of jewelry and most were real pearls.) ANYWAYS BACK TO MY POINT !!! her husbands been gone for so long so shes getting a tad aroused and he notices coz he can feel the increase in her pulse and hes like "oh do you enjoy that?" and idk what else coz frankly my c.ai convo is very different from what i wrote

i had this exact same convo on c.ai omgg! i love ur requests sm u dont even understand

"im a little shy standing here in my nightgown." | kappa

playing dangerous. - lana del rey

female!reader x kappa

word count: 632

contents: cheating, home invasion

ps: i have an nsfw fic in my drafts that ive been meaning to get out that would go very well for a part 2 of this. yall should lmk if you wanna see it!

it was a dark and stormy night. Your husband was out of town for a while, which left you all alone in your giant mansion. even though you’d dreamed of living in a mansion since you were small, it got really lonely when there was nobody to share it with.

thunder and lightning bolted outside, making the entire house flicker with light for a fraction of a second. you were flipping through the tv channels, looking for something good to watch. the clock struck midnight, and at the same second, you heard glass in your house breaking.

you felt your heart stop for a moment. you look behind you, your body shaking with fear. all the windows behind you were intact, meaning that the noise came from something else. You tried reassuring yourself by assuming that the sound came from outside, when you felt a firm hand grab your chin.

you slowly turned your head to see the owner of the hand, and your blood ran cold. you screamed and tried to back up a little on the couch when you saw the weapon in his hand. He looks at you, a little smirk on his face. “sorry about that, sugar… i thought that you’d be asleep.” his voice was smooth like honey, making your heart beat a little faster. he started approaching you slowly.

he smiles, showing his teeth a little. “dont be scared, doll. If you're good for me, then i won't have to hurt you..” he’s standing right in front of you. your body is trembling with fear. that’s when he picked you up and threw you over his shoulder. he brought you to a red velvet armchair and seated you on his lap, his eyes travelling down your body in your skimpy little nightgown.

he brought a hand to your neck, looking at the pearl necklace around it. “my, my… isn’t this precious…” he tugged on the necklace, seeing if it would break. he looked into your eyes, which were still fear-filled. “tell me, sugar… do you live here all alone?” his voice turned to a sultry tone. you tried processing what he meant by that, but he wrapped his hand around your neck, making you shiver.

“n-no… i have a husband…” he hums disappointedly at this. “well i dont see him…” you brushed your hair out of your face. “yeah. he travels for work a lot…” he starts cradling you in his arms, lulling you into a sense of comfort. “it gets real lonely here…” you didnt know why you were opening up to him. maybe it was because you knew he could kill you if he wanted to.

his eyes wandered down to your body, fully soaking in the beauty of it in your dark red nightgown. “this is a beautiful little gown…” he said quietly. He carefully ran a hand down your curves, making your body heat up. It had been a while since you’d been touched like this. You hadnt noticed that you were so deprived.

you take a moment to look into his beautiful blue eyes. they look like two cold pieces of ice. but they were sharp like a blade. his hands moved down to your hips, just barely lifting up your nightgown. “a woman as beautiful as you has no right to be all alone…” you feel your body fillign with desire. You had never been so needy before, but you just felt yourself melting into his touch more and more.

“how about i show you a good time tonight, sugar? would you be up to that?” he whispered into your neck, starting to bite it softly. you started thinking about how wrong this was, remembering your promise to always stay loyal to the man you loved, but you decided to let this strange intruder to have his way with you for the night.

author's note: im very tempted to post my other kappa fic, but yall should let me know. thank you so much for the request!!

#rory culkin #rory culkin smut #kappa black mirror #kappa smut #black mirror #lana del rey #444rockstargf

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gabessquishytum · 1 year ago

Note

I just had an idea and i have to note it down, so why not come to your overstuffed inbox to do it? 😆

The setting would be ancient greece, or rome or something.

Morpheus is the son of a noble and has had athe best education available, and has become an renowned painter and sculptor. Only the richest people and institutions can afford to commission him, and his workshop is filled with servants and helpers to sweep the dust and chips away as he chisels the marble slabs into shape, to wait on him with wine and fruit, to fan him as he's working on his creations.

One day as he's sketching iut a bust of a god for a temple he's do frustrated, because the proportions just aren't right. He gets so angry that he throws his glass goblet against the wall, and then a servant runs to clea up his mess, the servant's tunic slips a bit to the side as he's bowing down and - by the gods, those hipbones are exquisit!?

Before he knows what he's doing he's crowding the servant against the wall, plasters his body against the strangers' back to feel out all of the secrets hidden underneath the dirty blue toga. The servant gives a throaty moan and lets him do as he pleases, clearly excited and turned on by being manhandled and ordered around.

Morpheus starts muttering about a perfect ratio, a beautiful specimen, a god turned into flesh etc, and lets his hands trail over Hob's shoulders, back, hips, arse and then kneels down behind him to trace his muscular hairy legs. Hob's ass is now at Dream's eye level, and how could he resist? He lets his hands glide up the legs, slip underneath the hem of the fabric to reveal the lily white skin of the servant boy's arsecheeks. To his freat delight Hob cants his ass back and widens his stance, clearly proud of his body and very into being worshipped.

Other servants and workers pass by them, they're by no means alone, but they might as well be - Lord Morpheus on his knees, his face struck with wonder, inches away from a servant's asshole, exposing him to the world to see and yet, only there to please his Lordship.

Neither of them could say how long they stood there, but when Hob breathes out a desperate 'Please, Sir..' he can barely breathe in before he has two slender fingers slicked with oil up his hole, pumping in and out and he's already leaking before the first brush of them grazes his prostate.

Yeah.

That's all I can muster up right now.

Love ya!

Ajsjjdjfj hello my dear! So nice to hear from you!

I'm absolutely LOVING this whole concept. Morpheus being the precocious, temperamental artist is a wonderful image. He's got this whole studio of students and assistants but he insists on doing 90% of the work by himself because he's such a perfectionist. And although he's had one or two muses to inspire him throughout his career, he's struggling with this latest project. It just isn't working out the way he wants.

And Hob (who specifically got a servant's job in Morpheus’s studio because he's totally in awe of him) just so happens to be the inspiration that's been missing. He isn't what Morpheus would call pretty, but he's got the raw sex appeal that he suddenly realises that this particular sculpture requires. Hob is perfectly imperfect, and Morpheus feels like he's been hit with a bolt of lightning.

The work of the studio goes on as usual, while Morpheus divests Hob of his robe entirely and bends him into all kinds of positions and contortions. Hob is wonderfully flexible and quite content to bend over with his arse exposed while Morpheus studies his musculature with trembling hands. His thighs, his feet, his hips and waist are all caressed or massaged by the artist's fingers like he's trying to commit Hob’s entire anatomy to memory.

Of course, Morpheus couldn't see Hob’s cock when he first set eyes on him... but he isn't disappointed. If anything he's even more sure that Hob should serve as the model for the entire sculpture. Fully nude, he will be the most wonderful image of a god that Morpheus has ever captured. As his fingers wrap greedily around Hob’s shaft and heft at his balls he begins to begins to smile for the first time in many months.

Hob has been so patient - he was clearly born to be a model. He follows every order quickly and without complaining. Every so often he makes a cute little noise that simply makes him even more endearing. He obviously deserves a reward for all that he's given to Morpheus already.

His body seems ever more godly and delightful as he squirms and twitches. His little pink hole is perfectly tight, and he's so responsive to every little flex of Morpheus’s fingers inside him. As he whines and whimpers and fucks himself eagerly on his lord's fingers, Morpheus can't help but think of all the erotic things he wants make Hob do. All for the sake of art, of course. A man who looks so absolutely divine when he cums shouldn't be hidden away for only Morpheus’s enjoyment.

From then on, Hob is hardly allowed to leave Morpheus’s side. Even when there's no work being done on the sculpture, Hob dutifully follows Morpheus wherever he has to go. He even sleeps by him at night. You never know when inspiration might strike! What better way to study the beauty of man, than to have him wanton and writhing in your bed?

#akhuna01 #the sandman #dreamling #nsft

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mymoonagedaydream · 1 year ago

Text

Part 12

Pairing: Biker!Bucky x y/n

Word Count: 2.4k

Warnings: Language, anti-religious sentiment throughout

Author's Note: Final part! Much love!

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 / Part 5 / Part 6 / Part 7 / Part 8 / Part 9 / Part 10 / Part 11

---

It was gone midnight by the time you and Bucky, both nursing second trimester food babies, spilled out of the restaurant and began to stumble in the vague direction of home. The evening air was chilly but his jacket was wrapped around your shoulders before you’d even begun to feel it. Your hand slotted smoothly into his, a movement that was second nature to you now.

The two of you walked for ten or so minutes when, at an otherwise pretty unremarkable corner, a bolt of inspiration struck you. It was the street name that did it, Cross Street. You remembered seeing it as a child and wondering if this was where your local church and your mother bought all their little wooden crucifixes from. You suddenly knew exactly where you were.

Bucky was heading in one direction but you stopped and tugged him in the other. “We should go this way.”

“Huh? You wanna go the wrong way? How much wine you had?”

“It’s not the wrong way,” he was pulling back against you now, feet firmly planted in place, “it’s just a different, slightly longer way.”

“Longer?

“But worth it.”

“How?"

“I think, uh- I mean, I’m pretty sure there’s a river around here somewhere.” He raised a dubious eyebrow. “Well, eighty percent sure.”

"I'm eighty-five percent sure you're bullshitting me."

"I swear to god I'm not."

"Swear to any imaginary asshole you like. I'm not buying it, sweetheart."

Strong physical resistance was attempted for a few more seconds but, eventually, your very best puppy dog eyes melted him.

“Fine, but if you fall in I’m not coming after you.”

“Deal.”

He gave you a wide smile and snaked an arm around your waist, letting you lead him down the side street. A comfortable silence fell as you turned corner after corner, your face contorting into a smug smile once the water came into view. He just shrugged. The two of you strolled onto a low, stone bridge and watched the ripples distorting the reflections of lit-up apartment windows and orange streetlights. It was gloriously peaceful.

After a minute or so, Bucky turned to carry on walking, but you stayed in place and pulled him back. He stood opposite you, looking a little confused as you took both his hands in yours.

“Buck, what you said earlier, I really think we should talk about it.��

“Nah, it’s alright, it was in the past. Like you said, it's over now and that’s all that matters.”

“What? No, I didn’t mean-” You rubbed your forehead. Christ he was slippery, using your own words against you like that. “That’s not what I meant. If something’s still affecting you, it matters, and it’s good to talk about it.”

He bit at the inside of his cheek and turned his head to stare at the water, eyes combing over the waves. You let him simmer for a little while before bringing your hands up to his face and gently turning it back towards you, raising your eyebrows expectantly. The cold air was whipping harshly off the water and into you but his face was warm and flushed. When he spoke, you could see him carefully considering every word.

“If I keep talking, I might say something that drives you away, and I don’t know if I could take that.”

“That’s not gonna happen.”

“Right, but what if-”

“Buck, I promise there is very, very little that could convince me you’re not a good person, alright? I really don’t care about your past.” You stopped abruptly and frowned at yourself. “That came out wrong.”

He let out a small chuckle. “First you want me to talk about it, now you tell me to shut up?”

“You know what I meant.”

“Mhmm,” he pulled you closer, letting your arms curl around his neck, “I know, baby. I know I can talk to you anytime, you got no idea how much I appreciate that, but if you wanna talk now I'll tell you anything you wanna know. Just ask."

You considered. There definitely had been a few small things you were curious about, the odd interest piquing comment here and there, but for some reason you found yourself completely blanking at his offer. You suddenly realised that you didn't want to know anything. You didn't need to. Maybe just the fact that he was willing to talk was enough.

"Are you happy?"

He chuckled. "Very."

"Then so am I."

"Good."

He shot you a wink, making you giggle like a schoolgirl. You cupped your fingers around his face and brushed your thumbs across his cheeks. The hint of wine on his breath was sweet and warm. Feeling his hands pressed against your back, staring into his still blue eyes, something inside you burst or erupted or… Christ, you weren’t sure, but next thing you knew your mouth was writing a check that you weren’t sure he was ready to cash.

“I love you, Buck.” His face dropped. Fuck it, you were all in now, might as well carry on. “Completely. Like, get a dog together type love. Put up with you stealing the fucking covers all night type love. I’d even go as far as to say-”

He swiftly cut you off by enclosing your half-open, babbling mouth in his, arms squeezing your waist tight. You relaxed completely into him, not sure that you’d be able to stay on your feet if he suddenly let go but too caught up in the moment to care. He pulled away an inch, just for just a second, to whisper.

“I love you too. Just stop talking.”

You weren’t sure how long the two of you stood there, by the river. It was becoming increasingly easy to lose time while you were tangled up with Bucky. The rest of the walk home was a hazy, fragmented mess of staggering for a few minutes before getting distracted and clumsily fumbling at each other. You found yourselves regretting taking the long way, both of you becoming more and more impatient to get back to the privacy of the apartment, and not making it past the floor just inside the door when you did.

But, hey, at least neither of you ended up in the river.

—

You’d found it. The perfect apartment.

It looked small, cramped even, but would be more than enough for just the two of you- neither of you owned any furniture anyway. The beach was only a couple minutes walk away and, with it being a fifth floor apartment, the front window had a beautiful view of the ocean. It even had underground parking, meaning his majesty wouldn’t have to rush to the window to check on his bike every ten minutes. The more you read about it, the more convinced you became that it was meant for you.

Bucky was out at the store when you came across it and you couldn’t stop yourself pacing around excitedly until he got back. You kept refreshing the page, convinced that someone else would snap it up while he was out impulse-buying candy. You practically jumped him as soon as he came through the door, dragging him over to your laptop and squealing excitedly.

After a quick flick through the pictures, he dug his hand into his back pocket.

“It’s ours. What’s the number?”

“I mean, we should probably go see it first, right?”

“Nah. How bad could it be?”

You nodded slowly and wandered your gaze around his flat, lingering on the carpet stains and the patch of mould in the corner. Yep, things were starting to make a little more sense.

He waggled his phone at you. “What’s the hold up?”

Mild pangs of anxiety sparked in your stomach, committing to something this big without properly researching could turn out incredibly badly. The place could be unfinished or falling apart or infested with flesh-eating cockroaches.

Or, you thought, just maybe, it could turn out to be perfect.

A warm smile spread across your face. Maybe it was time to take a page out of his book, stop thinking so much, close your eyes and jump. He smiled back. You gave him the number.

Bucky pressed his lips into your forehead before making the call, the fingers on his left hand tapping excitedly against the table as he made notes with his right. The two of you then spent the next three hours gathering and sending off all of the information and credentials they’d requested.

And then you waited.

And waited.

All evening, checking Bucky’s phone every ten minutes. It was like torture. Nothing had come through by midnight, so the two of you gave up and slunk off to bed, outwardly trying to stay optimistic about finding somewhere else but inwardly pretty disheartened. You’d just have to keep searching.

—

You were woken the next day by the smell of cooking bacon and the sound of Bucky humming to himself in the kitchen. Stretching yourself across the deserted bed, you yawned dramatically and rubbed your eyes, debating how easy it would be to get him to abandon breakfast and curl back up with you. Very easy, probably.

Your hand found your phone on the bedside table and you yanked it from the charger, your head darting up from the pillow in shock when you saw that it was creeping up to midday. How the hell had you managed to sleep for almost twelve hours? Yesterday’s emotional roller coaster must have wiped you out.

Pulling your pyjamas on, you trudged through to the front room and saw Bucky standing over the stove, wiggling his hips along to the jaunty tune he was improvising.

“G’morning.” You walked up beside him, settling into his side as he snaked an arm around you, gazing at the pile of food he was pushing around the pan. “Looks good.”

“Mhmm, this is a real breakfast. I thought we’d celebrate.”

You nodded sleepily, a little confused. “Celebrate what?”

He looked down at you, sporting a wide, knowing smile. Your drowsiness slowly melted away as you realised what he was talking about.

“We got it?”

“We got it.”

Something you could only describe as a kind of throaty yelp noise escaped your mouth, which made Bucky burst out laughing. You threw your arms around his neck, squeezing him as hard as you could, feeling tears welling up in your eyes. A thousand thoughts began racing through your mind but the biggest, brightest one was that you’d finally get some peace. That’s all you really wanted.

When you finally let go of him, he dug his phone out of his pocket and showed you the email from the landlord. Your eyes widened as they scanned through it.

“Wait, this says we move in at the start of next month?”

“Yup.” He nodded proudly.

“Buck, that’s two days from now.”

“Mhmm. We better get packing.”

As it turned out, he’d already hired a van to arrive the next day and picked up a stack of packing boxes while he was out buying breakfast food, all of which he’d hidden behind the couch so they wouldn’t ruin his dramatic reveal. You had no idea who this guy was and what he’d done with Bucky, but you weren’t complaining.

Finally, it felt like things were falling into place.

—

The journey to your new home was about an hour. You had hoped the ride would be relaxing, a chance for catharsis and decompression, but you spent almost the entire time white-knuckled, gripping onto the dashboard. Bucky drove the moving van exactly the same way he drove his motorbike, weaving in and out of traffic like an unbelievably lucky bull in a mercifully generous china shop. He didn’t even seem to notice the sound of all your possessions sliding around chaotically in the back.

When he finally parked up outside the apartment block, you reverted back to religion for the first time in years, thanking both God and the baby Jesus that you survived the drive.

You glanced out of the window. The building wasn’t particularly attractive, sitting in an unremarkable side street opposite a seedy looking off-licence, but you still felt the excitement bubbling in your stomach as you hopped out and properly surveyed your surroundings. It was pretty clean and quiet, the only movement being a young woman with a stroller briskly walking down the opposite sidewalk. A few noisy seagulls flew overhead and you noticed for the first time that you could smell the sea air, fresh and briny. Memories of your day on the beach flooded back. You could get used to that.

Bucky gave you a wide smile and walked towards the door, approaching a man in a cheap suit who you hadn’t even noticed. They talked for a minute, the keys were exchanged and the suit gave you a polite nod before turning and walking down the street. That was, you thought to yourself, quite possibly the only easy interaction you and Bucky had ever had with a third party since you’d been together. You knew life was going to be a whole lot easier after leaving that fucking town, but you certainly hadn’t expected such immediate results. This was incredible.

You grabbed a box and followed your roommate up the stairs, the two of you bursting through the door into your new home.

The first thing you noticed was the view. It was even better in person. You unceremoniously dropped whatever you were carrying and walked towards the window, seeing the vast ocean spread out in both directions as you got closer. Bucky came up behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist and resting his head on your shoulder.

“Whatta you think?”

“I love it.”

“Eh, it needs a bit of work,” he briefly surveyed the walls and the ceiling, “I think the last people here had dogs, there’s still some-”

You swivelled round in his arms and placed a hand firmly over his mouth, feeling a smile form against your palm. “I don’t care. I love it.”

He mumbled something. You rolled your eyes and released his face, prompting him to repeat himself.

“Me too.”

It took a couple of hours to get everything out of the van and, when you’d finally finished, you found yourselves staring at a messy pile of boxes dumped in the middle of the living room. An unspoken but unanimous decision was made that there was no point starting to unpack before having something to eat, even though you’d spent the entire drive shoving handfuls of chips into each other’s faces.

So, for the first of many times, you and Bucky watched the sunset over the sea. Sitting on cardboard boxes in your cheap flat, eating pretty terrible Chinese food, with nothing in the world but a few dollars and each other.

And it was perfect.

---

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lulubelle814 · 2 months ago

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The Traveler - Chapter 1

Chapter 2

The Traveler Masterlist

Main Masterlist

“Hey, Billie! Billie!!! Pick up your damn phone!”

Her aunt’s voice rang out across the yard only to fall on deaf ears. When she realized Billie was wearing headphones while working on her nearly completed pet project car, her dad’s old 1970 Dodge Charger R/T, she ambled off the porch with an aggravated huff and muttered complaints about her bum hip and crossed the gravel drive to their outdoor garage. Billie had been working on the car in the detached garage here and there for a few years when she wasn’t at the auto shop or working on her photography. She usually captured shots of other cars to freelance for auto magazines for some added income, but also landscapes or candid shots of people and animals when the mood struck.

Over the past few months, she got back into her love of writing, mostly sticking to short stories. However, she found that writing fan fiction gave her more inspiration than anything else, letting her imagination run wild with her favorite characters was a sort of catharsis for her, especially as it allowed her to travel in her imagination. She called it writing therapy because it helped her work through her deep-seated issues, better than any therapist ever had. More than any other, Tom Hiddleston and his works provided the most help in that area, particularly her favorite movie, Kong: Skull Island; something about that film resonated with her, though she couldn't quite pinpoint what or why that was. As a matter of fact, she was in the midst of writing a story about that film in between work and her other hobbies.

Working on cars, writing, and photography helped her through most problems that came her way, and also distracted her from her ever present wanderlust. There were so many places she wanted to see, but travel was expensive and between running the shop, regular life expenses, maintenance on the old home she shared with her aunt, car parts, and a bank loan, she couldn’t afford it.

When her dad passed, he had an outstanding bank loan he needed in order to get some machines fixed and upgrade others. He hadn’t been making a lot at the moment, but he always had his regulars. The only reason he obtained the loan was in hopes of expanding his clientbase. So she had to make sure she had the funds whenever the hard-to-find parts for her rare car were found. For now, traveling was at the bottom of her list, and realistically probably would be for a very long time. In the meantime, she relied on her imagination and writing to do all the traveling she couldn't do in real life. The good news, though, was that the loan was finally paid off about six months ago which allowed her to get the last parts she needed for her car, the expensive ones.

Virginia drew even with the overhead door, seeing nothing but a messy knot of red hair and elbows covered in grease where Billie was bent over the engine bay, muttering her own curses at stubborn bolts. The older woman shuffled up to the car, reaching out to touch one of those greasy limbs to get her attention. Billie jumped with a yelp and sharp groan as her head connected hard with the hood when Virginia made contact.

“Holy crap, Virginia! You can’t scare me like that,” Billie complained, rubbing at the goose egg forming on her crown. She only chuckled at her grousing as Billie pulled the buds from her ears.

“Well, I wouldn’t have to if you’d pick up your phone," she said, crossing her arms over her ample/bird-like chest. "That guy from the shop has been trying to get a hold of you.”

“You know you love talking to ‘that guy’. When are you finally going to admit to Tony that you’ve been crushing on him for the last 10 years? It’s well past time to make a move!”

Ignoring her, Virginia headed back into the house to get dinner ready.

The younger woman put down her wrench and pulled the phone from her back pocket, scrolling through her notifications. 3 missed calls and 7 texts, all from Tony and Steve. The music was audible from the dangling headphones, and Virginia recognized the playlist. She’d helped her put it together with some of Bruce’s favorite songs, mostly classic rock from bands like the Rolling Stones, Jimi Hendrix, and a few others.

Billie paused her tunes, put her headphones back on, and rang Tony, setting the phone down to keep working, but he picked up on the first ring.

“It’s about time, kid," his voice rumbled over the speaker. "I’ve been trying to get a hold of you for the past half hour for this part. I was starting to think you hated me.”

“Oh, shut up, Tony," she laughed and leaned against the fender. "You know you love talking to Pepper. When are you going to finally ask her out?” Tony loved giving people nicknames. From the moment he met Virginia, he called her Pepper, much to her dismay; however, she got used to it, eventually loving the nickname he gave her.

She heard a scoff come from his side. “We’re not talking about this again. Pep and I are just friends. Plus, I’m pretty sure she has no interest in me. She generally scurries away when she sees me.”

Billie smirked, figuring she was finally wearing him down enough to ask her aunt out, figuring they’d made an amazing couple. “Whacha got for me?” While waiting for his reply, she pulled the hair fork out of her messy bun, and stuck it between her teeth, letting her thick auburn waves cascade past her shoulders to give her scalp a satisfying scratch with her fingernails.

“My guy came through. He was finally able to find the engine block you wanted.”

Billie gasped, the forgotten hair fork hitting the shop floor with a soft clink and scooped the phone back up. "Are you serious? That's fantastic," she cried.

"Yeah…" Tony drawled.

“You seem hesitant. What’s the catch?”

“Well," he hedged, and she could hear the soft scraping, indicating he was rubbing his beard scruff in a familiar nervous gesture. "It’s more than what you were looking to spend.”

“How much more?”

Tony was quiet for a moment. “About twice what you wanted to pay," he answered, rushing to continue. "You do know that you don’t have to get the original engine, right?”

Billie grimaced at the news. As much as she wanted to save money, she’d been hard core trying to restore this car to mint. Her dad, Bruce, had started working on it when she was a small child, hoping to have it done and ready for her 16th birthday. He'd had a hard time finding parts for the rare vehicle, and it had taken a long time for him to even find the few needed to get started. As fate would have it, he didn’t get a chance to finish. He'd been working at his shop one day and stepped out to grab some lunch and headed over to the sandwich place across the road, and some idiot teenage driver, not paying attention, turned onto the street and hit him hard. Bruce was put in a medical coma but never woke up. The doctors told her and Virginia that they had tried it as it was his best chance at recovery. When he didn’t wake up, the two agreed to pull the plug rather than have him lay there as a vegetable for who knows how long. They knew he wouldn’t want that.

Billie may have only been 11, but she knew how her dad was about these things because of what happened to her mom, and he wanted his daughter to be prepared, or at least aware, as her mom, Natalie, passed unexpectedly when she was born. While she never knew her mom, her dad never stopped telling stories about her while he was teaching her how to fix cars at the shop when she’d get out of school once she was old enough. Her dad’s friends taught her whatever her dad didn’t get a chance to do so that she could work on the car.

Virginia had been helping her and Bruce out since Natalie passed. For a long while, he had such a hard time that he couldn’t do much of anything. So Virginia always made sure Billie had clothes, food, and anything else she needed. When Bruce passed, she sold her condo and moved in with her niece, knowing it would be easier on both of them in a house rather than a tiny 2 bedroom condo. The kid needed her own space and a yard to run around in. It took a couple years or so after her dad passed before she could bring herself to work on that old car. Virginia continued to be supportive and would have the shop look for parts as they were found and had the money to pay for them. Needless to say, with all the barriers, it was taking an extremely long time, but she was finally down to the last couple of parts.

“I know I don’t need the original, but that’s all I’ll accept. It’s what dad was working on. It’s in his list of parts needed. In fact, it’s the last part I need. I told you I was willing to wait for the right parts, and that includes the engine. When can he have it here?” She started putting away her tools as they spoke, ready for a break before her aunt came out.

“Said he can have it here in a few days if you want it, but I’m close to him and can bring it back with me the day after tomorrow.” Tony had been spending a few days helping his grandma a few counties over. Since she was widowed, there were things that needed repair, and Tony never hesitated to go whenever she needed him. Billie and Virginia understood and encouraged it as family is the most important thing.

Taking a deep breath, she took a moment to think. It was literally the last part she needed. “Let's do it. You have my account info. I don’t know when or even if we’ll be able to find another one.”

“I’ll call him back and get it set up. I’ll drop it at your place when I get back.”

“You’re the best!” She was holding in her excitement so as to not make Tony go deaf.

“One more thing boss. That weird shop you like said that thing you’ve been looking for showed up in his store. Says he tried to get a hold of you but no luck. Said he’ll hold it until you get there.”

She couldn’t hold it in any longer and squealed with unbridled joy. She did, however, manage to wait until they hung up to go full happy dance.

“Billie Anne Sinclair!” Evidently Billie tuned everything out in her excitement, her aunt having heard her excitement all the way in the house.

“Sorry Virginia! I’ll be in for dinner in just a sec.”

Dinner was delicious, but Billie was on edge, excited to get the 2 things she’d been looking for, both of which she thought would never happen at this point. Her excitement over getting both tomorrow was so high that she didn’t get much sleep, and what little sleep she did was awful. At 2 AM, she pulled out her Dad’s record collection, picked up one of her Dad’s favorites: Rolling Stones ‘Hot Rocks'’. She listened to the music on CD growing up (and then her phone) because she didn’t want to accidentally break the record, but she’d take it out once in a while because it helped her feel close to her dad when she needed him. Tonight was no exception. She held the record and spoke as if he was in the room, telling him how the car was coming along and finally finding that last part. When she was done with her one-sided conversation, she pulled out her notebook and continued on the story she’d been working on for a while, using her laptop to look up details and references.

She hadn’t been sleeping well for the few months after the nasty breakup with Bucky. They had been together for a couple of years. Bucky seemed like the perfect guy at first, but it turned out he was a narcissist with a nasty temper. When he’d get upset, he’d yell at her, telling her that she was lucky to have a guy like him, asking why everything was all about her. It had been in the last couple months that he started getting physically abusive. By that point he had torn down her self esteem so much that she felt like she deserved it. When anyone asked about the bruises, she’d say something happened at the shop or that she bumped into something, not having watched where she was going.

As soon as Virginia was able to pry it out of her as to what was really going on, she clued in the guys at the shop so they would keep an eye out for the scumbag as he loved coming in to see her. It was the day after that when he showed up and Tony, along with Rhodey and Clint, kicked his ass all the way to the other side of the county line. Bucky never showed his face again. When her friends got rid of him, she finally broke down, crying in the shop. None of the guys had seen her like that since her dad passed. Rhodey led her in his car and took her home to Virginia, Tony calling ahead to let Virginia know what happened.

Working on the car helped, but it was the writing and photography that helped her the most. She had been working on a story about Conrad and Skull Island. She felt drawn to him, like he would have protected her, seen what was happening without her saying anything, and perhaps rescued her before things became violent with Bucky. That particular character gave her some extra level of comfort than any of his other roles.

When she began writing the story about Captain Conrad and Skull Island, she decided to use herself as the OFC rather than create a fictional female lead. That allowed her to live more in the story, especially as she substituted Mason with herself. With her own love of photography, it seemed to fit well.

Because of that love of photography, she was also interested in the type of camera Mason used which she had been wanting for some time after seeing the movie. She knew it was long shot to find one but also knew the right person who’d be able to help her find it. It’d been 3 months since she finally got up the nerve and talked to Steve at Hank’s Antiques and Oddities. He always had the most random items in his hole in the wall shop. It was amazing how much he had crammed in that tiny store inherited from his dad years ago.

She had known him for quite some time. He was friends with her dad before he passed and looked out for her like an uncle in some respects, giving her advice or family discounts. He encouraged her photography hobby saying it was good for her to have something outside of car mechanics. So when she came around asking for a specific camera, he pulled all the stops to find it for her. So he wasn’t surprised when she showed up at the shop right as it opened that next day.

She was too excited as he brought out the camera. “I can’t believe you found it!” She hugged him as soon as he set the camera on the counter.

“You wouldn’t believe it, but I found it in a box of dad’s stuff. I’ve been meaning to go through it for years but never got around to it. If I had any idea it was there, I’d have searched for it sooner. I never knew he had something like this.”

Billie saw he felt bad. “Steve, don’t even worry about it. I still have some of my dad’s stuff I haven’t been able to go through. Are you sure you want to part with this?”

“I have no reason to keep it, and I know you’ve been looking for one. Looks like it’s even in good condition. There were some unused film rolls in the box that look like they might work with it if you want those as well.”

It truly was her lucky day. “Definitely! How much for the camera and film?” She pulled her wallet out of her messenger bag, seeing how much cash she had. He shunned her hand of cash away. “There’s no charge, Billie. You’re like family to me. I want you to have it. Check this out. It even has the original strap.” He pushed the camera and film towards her on the counter. “I also found something in the box with it. I’ve put it in the bag with the film. I thought you might find it cool.”

“I can’t thank you enough!” She hugged him again before she left as she saw potential customers coming in, not wanting to hold him up. Billie stopped at a bistro to get an early lunch so she could spend time looking at the camera because she couldn’t wait until she got all the way home to do so and was hungry and also maybe do some writing.

She finished her food and cleaned her hands before taking the camera out. It was in amazing condition. She opened it up, inspected it, and then pulled out the film to see if it was the right kind which it was, thankfully. After putting in one of the film rolls, she placed the other 3 back in the bag, her hand hitting something before she remembered Steve had put something else in there.

Pulling it out, it looked like a small statue or talisman but couldn’t make heads or tails of where it might have been from, but she didn’t care. She loved it. It was interesting and unique. Plus it was a gift from one of her favorite people. It inspired her, pulling out her notebook and tablet and started writing more of her story:

That didn’t comfort Conrad or Billie, and he found he had, at some point, held her hand almost as tightly as she held his. Even though he still couldn’t figure her out, he felt that pull, even now. Something about her calmed him with the raging storm just outside that helicopter door.

Lightning struck all around them, but Slivko was a brilliant pilot, adjusting course on the turn of a dime, keeping everyone on board safe. Once everyone got to the other side of the storm, Conrad expected her to let go of his hand, maybe start taking some pictures. If anything, she held tighter, knowing what was coming as the soldiers started dropping their charges.

When she reached a stopping point, she placed the camera back in her bag with her tablet and the notebook she used to write her story outlines as she had found writing them out with pen and paper helped her think more through the overall story arc. Throwing away her trash, she left, inspecting the figurine as she went, not realizing where she was going when she bumped into a stranger, apologizing for not watching her steps. She turned back around but lost her footing and fell, hitting her head on the pavement.

When she came to, she found herself on a cold metal floor, wooden crates on either side of her and a tall, handsome man holding out his hand.

“Are you alright, miss?” That voice……that English voice sounded like honey. She rubbed her head where she remembered hitting it but couldn’t find any kind of bump. When she looked back up at him, she realized who it was: former SAS Captain James Conrad.

"I'm definitely not in Kansas anymore,” she muttered as she reached out to accept his hand and helped her up.

Taglist: @vbecker10 @eleniblue @msdjsg7 @lovingchoices14 @buttercupcookies-blog @mischief-dream

Taglist is open!

#james conrad x y/n #james conrad x you #james conrad x reader #james conrad x ofc #james conrad #james conrad x original female character #james conrad x original character #james conrad fanfiction #skull island fanfiction #kong skull island #skull island #tom hiddleston #tom hiddleston fanfic #twh #tomhiddleston #twhiddleston #the traveler #lulubelle814

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lifeinacartoon · 2 months ago

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Hay haw are you 😊I thought as it’s Nearly Halloween donlowen prompt. one were mark thinks his holtel room is hounted becuse he keeps hearing noises and the dorm opens and closes by itself. Gary and howard hear him screem and wimper so thay sleep with him for the night in Howard’s room. I can’t deside if this should be a barlowen donlow donlowen or mark/howard. What do you think,🙂

I changed it a little, I hope you don't mind, but wanted to fit with the Halloween theme still. All Hallows Eve

The Stanley Hotel loomed against the Colorado sky, its historic grandeur framed by snow-capped peaks and an eerie mist that clung to the building like a shroud. Gary, Mark, and Howard sat at a small table in the dimly lit bar, the wood creaking beneath them as they leaned closer over their drinks.

"You know this place inspired The Shining, right?" Mark’s voice was barely above a whisper, his eyes darting around the room as though expecting to see something move out of the corner of his vision. "Room 217 is where all the worst stuff happened. Guests have seen things—heard things."

Gary raised an eyebrow. "I thought it was just a story. Stephen King stayed here, sure, but ghosts?"

Mark huffed. "More than just a story, mate. Footsteps in empty corridors, laughter when no one's there. They say the fourth floor’s the worst. Kids’ laughter late at night… but there’s never any kids."

Howard chuckled, swirling his whisky lazily. "You’re too easy to spook, Mark. It’s just an old building with creaky pipes."

But as they swapped stories, there was an undeniable tension creeping in. The shadows seemed darker, the chill in the air sharper. The fire in the hearth flickered, casting long, warped shapes against the walls. When the clock struck midnight with a loud clang, they all jumped, laughing nervously at their shared unease.

"I think I’ve had enough of this ghost talk for one night," Gary muttered, pushing his chair back and draining his glass. "I’m off to bed."

Mark hesitated, glancing over his shoulder as if the room was watching him. "Yeah, same." *

By the time they’d all retreated to their rooms, the corridors of the Stanley Hotel felt ominously still. The walls, clad in dark wood, seemed to close in around them as the silence settled.

Mark’s room, dimly lit by a single lamp, felt too large and too quiet. He lay in bed, trying to drift off, when he heard it—a soft, distant whisper. He froze, straining his ears. Was it his imagination? But then he heard it again, faint yet unmistakable, coming from the direction of the bathroom. With his heart racing, he slowly got up, each step heavy with dread. He pushed the bathroom door open, but the room was empty, the mirror fogged over as if someone had just taken a hot shower.

He bolted out of the room, heading straight for Gary’s door. *

Meanwhile, Howard had been lying on his bed, staring at the flickering ceiling light, the rhythmic hum of the bulbs unsettling in the stillness. It had been doing that for the past half hour, and no matter what he tried—turning it off, banging on the wall—it wouldn’t stop. Eventually, he’d given up, throwing his arm over his eyes, hoping sleep would take him soon.

In Gary’s room, Gary had been trying to brush off the nagging feeling that someone, or something, was watching him. The hairs on the back of his neck stood up every time the wind outside rattled the window, as if a presence was trying to get in. He tried to tell himself it was all in his head.

Just as he was drifting off, a knock at the door startled him awake.

"Gary? You up?" came Mark’s muffled voice from the other side, frantic. "I’m not staying in my room, no way."

Gary opened the door, his eyes wide. "Mate, what’s happened?"

"I heard something. Whispering. There’s… something in my bathroom." Mark’s voice trembled, his hands shaking as he crossed into the room. "I’m not staying alone tonight."

"Alright, alright. You can crash here." Gary nodded, pulling back the duvet on his bed. "Howard can join too if he’s freaked out." *

It wasn’t long before Howard’s flickering lights pushed him over the edge. He wandered down the hall in his slippers, shuffling along the plush carpet, the soft sound of his feet the only noise in the otherwise dead corridor. As he reached Gary’s door, he hesitated, feeling a strange chill in the air. With a quiet sigh, he knocked firmly.

"Gaz? You still up?"

The door creaked open, revealing Mark already nestled in Gary’s bed, looking much too small beneath the heavy covers.

"Howard?" Gary blinked in surprise. "What’s up?"

Howard stood in the doorway, arms crossed and expression sheepish. "My lights keep flickering. I’m not staying in there with all that weirdness going on."

Gary motioned for him to come in. "Alright, mate, you can crash here. Sofa’s free."

Howard shrugged, yawning as he padded inside and dropped onto the sofa. "Just keep the ghost stories to a minimum, yeah? Some of us actually want to sleep."

"Night, mate," Gary chuckled, but as he closed the door, the atmosphere in the room shifted. Howard was already sprawled out on the sofa, seemingly oblivious, his soft snores filling the space.

It seemed all he needed was the assurance of his friends nearby to feel comforted, the eerie hotel no longer a bother now that he wasn’t alone.

Mark shifted in Gary’s bed, pulling the covers up to his chin. "This place really gives me the creeps."

Gary slid in beside him, the bed too small for the tension now building between them. "It’s all just stories," he said softly, but his voice wavered slightly as Mark’s warm breath brushed his shoulder. Their hands touched, fingers lingering for just a moment longer than necessary.

Mark turned his head slightly, eyes locking with Gary’s. "Are you sure about that?" His voice was barely above a whisper, and though the room was cold, heat bloomed between them as they lay there, faces inches apart.

Gary swallowed, feeling his pulse quicken. "Pretty sure," he murmured, but as Mark shifted closer, his hand brushing along Gary’s arm, it became clear they were no longer talking about ghosts.

The distance between them closed, their lips meeting softly at first, then more urgently, as though the strange energy of the hotel had pulled them together. Mark’s fingers tangled in Gary’s shirt as they deepened the kiss, the soft rustling of sheets the only sound in the room, save for Howard’s quiet snoring across the way.

Oblivious to the growing heat in the bed, Howard slept on, blissfully unaware of the unspoken intimacy unfolding just metres away.

Mark pulled back for a breath, his voice barely audible in the darkness. "Think we’re safe now?"

Gary smirked, drawing him in closer, lips brushing Mark’s ear. "I’d say we’re in good hands."

#Halloween #spooky season #Take That fanfic #gary barlow #take that #mark owen #howard donald #take that fandom #ao3 #fanfiction #ao3 fanfic #tumblr writers #prompts #the one where #music

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rd0265667 · 1 year ago

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Danielle x Reader: Lightning and Thunder

A/N: Not gonna lie, this inspired by a bolt of lightning, and I share Danielle's fear of thunder, for the same reason she does. Make of that what you will

Permanent Taglist: @cwpiqwon@justme-idle

Danielle was sunshine incarnate, the constant bright speck in an otherwise colourless world. So one would wonder, does Danielle harbour hate in her heart? Is that heart so pure and full of light like one would assume? Turns out, no, as she just revealed in an interview, she hated Thunder. But a cursory observation would avail you to the knowledge that she wasn't afraid of Thunder. So why does Danielle Marsh, Little Miss Sunshine, hate something like Thunder?

You always hated Thunder. The flash and snap and crackle and boom, it scared the life out of you. Made you go white. If it got bad enough, you'd have to hide, the panic and fear bubbling in you. That's why Danielle Marsh hated Thunder. She hated how Thunder made you feel, the fear she felt for you whenever a lightning bolt struck.

That's how the two of you met too. Danielle was strolling across the school corridor, her attempts to enjoy a nice walk in the school courtyard thwarted by the rain, the dew crashing on the ground in a deafening tune. As she skipped and hummed a tune played on her phone, she noticed a figure shivering under the table. Parts curious and Parts Worried, Danielle entered the room, seeing a bundled up figure, shaking and flinching whenever a flash of lightning shone through the sky, precipitating the thunder. Witnessing your guttural reaction to thunder, Danielle knew what was going on, quickly removing her earphones and placing it in your ears, making you now privy to her presence, looking up in awe at Danielle, the light shining behind her, an angel incarnate, sent from the heavens to save you. She offered you her hand with a smile that shone so bright that it lit up the dark room, a hand which you gratefully took, all the while left mesmerised, paralysed even, under her gaze. A short and curt introduction from you was quashed by the overwhelming enthusiasm and passion Danielle had in just her introduction.

Something about Danielle was magnetic, you couldn't explain it. You found yourself attracted to the Angel who saved you, Gamaliel protecting you from the attacks of Barbiel. Maybe it was the way she got you to open up, adopting the poor introverted kid and showing you around, introducing you to all her friends. Maybe it was the way she had the ability to make you happy just with her presence. Or maybe it was the way she'd jump in her seat when Lightning flashed, quickly turning to you and cupping your ears, holding you to help you stay calm. Your heart grew attached to the Aussie, like a lost puppy following a master, you grew famous amongst Danielle's friends as the +1 to Danielle, seeing one without the other was a statistical improbability. Though you wanted to tell her everything, how you felt about her, but you thought to yourself, this was how Danielle treats everyone, isn't it? Of course it wasn't, Danielle liked you ages ago. She wanted to confess, but curiously, her panache for human conversation seemed to slip through her fingers when she tried to approach the subject with you. It vexed her. Frustrated her that the skill that helped her through her life so far, failed her at this critical moment, when she needed it's help the most. She eventually mustered the courage to do it, sharing a nice ice cream with you as she did. It's a memory she still cherishes.

The two of you found yourselves laying on your bed, exhausted after one of Danielle's manic playing spree. "Do you think I'm shy?" Danielle suddenly asked, causing your head to swing toward hers, a look of curiosity and slight exasperation. Danielle Marsh? Shy? "Oh yeh Dani, I think you're super shy." You sarcastically quipped, Danielle chuckling at the intonations you would make when you mocked someone, a light push to your shoulder as she giggled. "It's like, I don't know, sometimes I want to say something and I just get nervous and I don't say it and it gets really frustrating because I want you to know that I like you but like I can't get to the point and I-" Danielle rambled on, the last few words catching your attention as you couldn't process what she had just said. "You want me to know what?" You tried to clarify, filled with disbelief that you had heard right. Now realising what she had said, Danielle grew red, turning away from you as she tried to find a way to weasel her way out of it, but there didn't seem to be a way. "I like you." Danielle quickly said again, before hiding her face in her hands, terrified about the repercussions she would have to endure should this go wrong. Just as you were about to reply, a ground shattering strike of thunder struck, Danielle's hands flying upward toward your ears covering them, trying to shield you from the noise, holding your face toward her, locking eyes with you to reassure you she was there. In the moment, you were unable to control yourself, and following the confession from Danielle, you crashed your lips into hers, shocking her as she let her hands off your ear. But in that moment, that magical moment, the thunder held no power over you, it's grasp on you loosening as you fell into Danielle's embrace, Danielle still in shock over your sudden action. "Does that mean the feeling is mutual?" Danielle asked as you chuckled "What do you think?"

There it is. Cut and dry. Fairytale ending. Danielle Marsh hated thunder because you did, and she wanted to protect you. That's all. Right? Disney would want you to think so. Danielle Marsh? Not so much

Danielle wished she could say that the relationship was happy through it all. For what its worth. it was. Even if it was only for a short while. The first months of bliss and happiness, a feeling not foreign to most couples. You both graduated from school, both uncertain about what the future would hold, but optimistic, driven toward a joint future, a happy future, together. After awhile, the two of you decided what you were going to do. Danielle wanted to be a Kpop artist, so she applied into SM Entertainment, successfully becoming a trainee. You on the other hand, decided to continue your studies, pursuing higher education geared towards becoming a doctor. Through the first 3 months of your relationship being rarely able to see each other, things were good. Danielle stayed in the SM dorms while you stayed at the hostel of your university. Danielle called you whenever she could have her phone, mostly at night as she'd talk to you to ease your mind, together with hers as well. What raised eyebrows around SM however, was seeing Danielle, regardless of fatigue or exhaustion, bolt up whenever thunder struck, scrambling to the trainers or anyone who would listen to lend her a phone, or allow her custody of her phone again. As the thunder struck, she'd call you, anxiously tapping her feet as the dial tone droned on monotonously, breath held till she heard your voice, reassuring her that you were okay, or allowing her melodious voice to calm you back down. It was magical.

Then, as the weights began stacking up on the glass pane Danielle painstakingly built, the glass began to crack. As Danielle continued her life as a trainee, things got more hectic, training went on for longer, dances got more tiring, vocal sessions more intense. It took everything out of Danielle, but she would crawl to her bed, exhausted beyond belief, but still pull her phone out, a smile on her face as she called you. Things weren't much easier for you. You had begun residency at a nearby hospital as part of a work study program offered by your university that you had foolishly thought yourself capable enough to cope with. Your daily routine became waking to go to work, then going to sleep, barely enough time to do the things that made you feel human. Your only reprieve from all that was your calls with Danielle. The light of your life.

Danielle always thought that you two would have worked, if you had worked for it Try as you two might though, the fatigue took a toll on your relationship, and Danielle wasn't able to do anything about it. It begins small. You miss a call from her while cramming for an exam, and don't bother to call back till she calls back. Then it slowly snowballs. You ignore her calls as you crash onto the bed, rolling your eyes at the notifications as the exhaustion sets in. Her voice memos telling you to rest and how much she loves you go unanswered, ignored by you. Danielle Marsh is capable of great love, and she directed it all toward you. A love any normal person, any good person would appreciate and reciprocate to the best of their abilities. It's a love you brush off to the side. Tunnel vision setting in, chasing your career in the medical field as Danielle's love begins to feel like nothing more than an afterthought. A tolerated love that deserved to be appreciated, celebrated. In Danielle's eyes, it was her fault. Her trying to begin a career as a Kpop Idol forced her to cut almost all contact with you, and it put a strain on her relationship with you. So she tried her best to mend it.

"Dani, this is insane, you can't possibly do this." Aeri whispered, looking about frantically down the corridor, hoping no guards noticed them "It's going to be fine unnie, don't worry." Danielle smiled back, clutching a small Tupperware of your favourite soup that she had squeezed out precious time to make. Worried after a few days of radio silence from you, Danielle devised a plan, sneaking out of the dorm to surprise you with some food in case you hadn't eaten, and maybe steal some moments together with you. It was foolproof. Or so she thought. The windows around the SM dorm were filled to the brim with trees, making it easy to climb out of the windows. What made it not as easy, however, were the thorns and pricks that made climbing it less than pleasant. Still, Danielle persevered, a little blood wasn't going to keep her from you. After much struggle, she finally arrived at your doorstep, taking a moment to compose herself before ringing your doorbell. Then again. And again, only to be met with silence. After some delay, the door finally opened, Danielle with a wide smile on her face as she was excited to see you after all this time. "Oh, it's you. Come in." You monotonously said, not sparing Danielle a second glance as you walked back to your work station. Danielle was slightly taken aback by the coldness, but she paid it no mind, skipping into the room as she saw you looking through some folders. Danielle laid on the couch behind you, beginning to talk and ask you about what had been going on, only to be met with stoic one word answers. You must be tired, and you must be angry at her for all the neglect, Danielle thought to herself. She wanted to make it up to you. Walking up to you, Danielle gently set the tupperware on your work desk, an action you barely registered, much less acknowledged. Danielle then tried to wrap her arms around you, but you quickly shrugged her hands away. "I'm busy." Was all you said, an icy tone adding to the pain your words caused Danielle. "Baby, is everything alright? Did I do something?" Danielle tried to clarify, ignoring the blood on her thigh now staining her pant leg. "Jesus, not everything is about you Danielle. Can't you see I'm busy? I'm here trying to get through this semester and here you are crying for attention like a spoiled brat. For fuck sakes Danielle, can you pull your head out of your ass just once and see that I'm far too busy to indulge in your wants, alright?" You lashed out, turning to stare down the stunned Danielle, not even a hint of remorse evident on your face. You turned back to your work, as tears welled up in Danielle's eyes, but she tried to hide it. In her mind, this was her fault, abandoning you to begin with for her career as a Kpop artist. "I'm sorry, I'll go." Danielle whispered, walking to the door. "Wait." You spoke, Danielle perking up as scenarios bolted through her head. Did you want her to stay? Did you notice her injuries? Were you going to apologise? "Yes baby?" "Take your soup."

Aeri laid uncomfortably on her bed, worrying about the safety of Danielle, her worries being temporarily alleviated as she saw the Australian girl slink back into the room, tupperware in hand, eyes puffy, legs bloodied. "Jesus, Dani, what happened?" Aeri asked as she quickly ran up to the girl, checking on the scratch wounds on the girls leg, but she only forced a smile. "Nothing's wrong Unnie, go to bed. We have an assessment tomorrow. Go rest up alright?" Danielle tried to reassure Aeri, but Aeri ignored the pleas of the clearly downtrodden Girl, pulling Danielle into her embrace as she slowly began to sob

Danielle should have left you, right then, right there. But how could she? She loved you too much to let what could be perceived as a bad day to let you go. You did eventually apologise for that outburst, though Danielle chose to ignore the lack of warmth behind your words. This carried on for months. Danielle would do all she could to spend time with you, efforts that worked to varying degrees, Danielle would try her hardest to make you happy, but it was ultimately for naught, and each time, it was almost identical, an attempt by Danielle, followed by an outburst, then an apology. The only difference Danielle ever noticed, was how the love behind each apology seemed to slowly dissipate, where you were just going through the motions. But the two of you could make this work. Right? Not unless someone did something. And Danielle soon did make a choice. One she would regret

Danielle stood in front of the elevator, hands slightly shivering as she brought along a suitcase. It was a tough goodbye, Aeri both disapproving of Danielle's choice, but also sad to see her go. It was going to be worth it, Danielle thought. She didn't want to be a Kpop idol if it was at the cost of her relationship with you, so she took a step toward mending the relationship. This was close to 2 years of her life, for naught, but for you, she would forsake two more years, and two years after that. Slightly trembling as she stepped out of the elevator, her eyebrows furrowed, thunderclouds beginning to form. Keeping it in the back of her mind, she went to ring the doorbell, which you answered after a short delay. "Good, you're here, there's something I wanted to talk to you about." You said, turning your back to her as she struggled to pull her suitcase into your apartment. "Yeah, me too." Danielle said, barely able to keep her excitement contained as she wondered how you would react to the news, the newfound freedom of having her again, turning the once fleeting stolen moments into everyday occurrences "Let's break up." you said, crossing your arms, sitting opposite Danielle. "What?" Danielle could barely stutter out, in disbelief at what she had just heard. "Let's break up Danielle." You repeated yourself, an astonishing lack of any emotion, any unease behind breaking up with your high school sweetheart. "No, wait, we can make this work. I'm not a trainee anymore, I can spend more time with you now. Please, we can make this work!" Danielle pleaded "What do you mean you're not a trainee anymore?" "I left the agency, for us." Danielle whispered, desperate to get back what she once had. "That's the problem Danielle. In the face of our careers, my career as a doctor, your once promising career as a K-pop idol. This takes precedence over some silly high school love." You said, turning around to grab a box, filled to the brim with the Danielle's stuff. Looking at the box, Danielle's tears welling up more, seeing the objects you had deemed useless. Danielle's letters, ones Danielle had packed with such love and adoration, such care and concern, still sealed shut. Small gifts Danielle had sent to you, untouched. In her distress, Danielle noticed lightning flash in the periphery, bolting forward to attempt to cover your ears, only for you to swipe her hands away. Danielle looked in shock as you stared at her unflinchingly, the primordial thunder that shook the earth having no effect on you. Falling to her knees, Danielle sobbed as she held the box for support, fist clenched as rage filled her body "You never loved me, did you?" Danielle whispered, looking you in the eye "Take your things and leave Danielle."

So that's the truth behind it all. Hidden behind a smile, Danielle lied about it all, saying she chose to leave SM for health issues, eventually joining HYBE as a trainee, debuting with NewJeans, only the girls in NewJeans privy to the real reason Danielle left SM. Even now, she lied, the host noticing her reaction to the lightning, then probing to find out why. A half lie, that Danielle Marsh hated thunder. It wasn't completely wrong. Danielle Marsh did hate thunder, she hated it because you hated it, and she hated the fear she would feel for you when thunder struck. She hated thunder because every time it crackled, Danielle would bolt up, a need to protect you bursting to the surface, only to remember that you didn't need her anymore. The day you made it clear, that she was not needed, that you didn't love her. That you never did. She hated the way she still felt the need to protect you. The way she still loved you.

The truth is, Danielle Marsh hated Thunder. But she hated you more.

#angst #rd0265667 #danielle #danielle x reader #marsh danielle x reader #newjeans x reader #newjeans danielle #danielle fanfic #marsh danielle fanfic #new jeans marsh danielle fanfic #mo jihye #mo jihye x reader #mo jihye fanfic #danielle marsh

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valaruakars · 2 years ago

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I'm so happy you opened up prompts. Don't worry about poor time management; life is too short to fret! Work on your own schedule and do what makes you happy. 😘

Always casually pulls up in your inbox like a Mcdonald's drive-thru.

*taps on mic* Can I get a uhhhh number 35 with perhaps pervy Viktor? 🥴

Uhhhh yeah, pull around 👍

Tags/Warnings: 18+, Viktor x AFAB Reader, unethical student/teacher relationship, masturbation, finger sucking

It’s not weird that you’re waiting for him in his office. Viktor lets you do that sometimes. Sorry, Professor Viktor. He’s generous that way, so that you might work comfortably while you pass the time. Generous in a way you’re not sure he is with anyone else, but perhaps it’s only hubris to presume that you’re special.

It gets a little weird, though, when you have the horrible thought to lock the door behind you. Weirder, when you settle into the fine leather chair at his desk and let your thighs inch wider as the pressure builds and the cling of cotton between your legs feels distinctly wetter. He’s not due out of class for at least twenty more minutes…

You have time.

Time to arrange your latest research results to show him, yes, but first… Time to slip the button of your pants through the eyelet, to shimmy them scantly down your hips. Oh yes, you have plenty of time to touch yourself in his office, just as you’ve fantasized about ever since he first spoke your name and called your work inspired.

Your head tips back against the chair as two of your fingers drag up the sticky seam of you, and it’ll be quick, you think. Scratch that—you know it’ll be quick, because you’re imagining that they’re his when you roll your hips into your hand and slip them inside you. In and out in quick, panting flicks of your wrist, your clit catches the heel of your palm over and over and over. Your teeth bite blunt into your lower lip as you imagine, too, how he might coo for you to be a good girl and keep quiet. Wouldn’t want anyone catching an academy professor with his hand between the legs of a student, now would we?

The sensation, the risk, the deviance—it all sets your nerves alight and you are so close, so quickly. The brink is right there, but, well, so is the sound of a key sliding into a lock.

You scramble to wipe your dirty fingers on the inside of your pants and pull them up properly. They’re not even buttoned all the way and there he is. Early, for fuck’s sake. He’s never early!

His eyes are pretty and wide and a little too searching for comfort when they fall on you, but at least he smiles.

“Hi,” is all you can say with your thick, stupid tongue and something in the way he’s looking at you changes.

His eyes sharpen like he’s running a calculation. You plus a locked door, plus an utterly disheveled appearance equals…

He huffs a quiet laugh as he closes the door behind him. And, wait… Was that the bolt of the lock?

“Good afternoon,” he says, ever casual as he comes closer. To put his things down, of course, why are you panicking? He’s too polite, too sweet to suspect you’ve been so vile, but he’s got that smug spark in his eye. The one he gets when he knows he’s done his math right. “Apologies if I’ve kept you waiting. May I see your hand?”

You nearly choke. “My what?”

“Your hand, please.” And because he’s smart, smarter than you, he specifies: “The dominant one.”

You pray it’s not still wet when you place it in his waiting hand, though that doesn’t really matter in the end. Not when he takes it with that wicked little smile and makes sure you’re watching when he kisses the knuckles that you’d sunk all the way inside yourself. He inhales deeply against your skin, and your heart nearly stops.

“So… You touch yourself to the thought of me?” he asks, his voice low and utterly pleased.

You can’t stop watching, awe-struck and throbbing, when he draws two fingers into the warm, wet clutch of his mouth for a taste. For confirmation, because apparently the way you whispered, “Yes,” wasn’t quite enough.

He’s nothing but thorough, cleaning the lingering salty sweetness off your skin with lewd, slick noises as the color deepens along his cheeks, and a prominent strain in his slacks becomes very noticeable.

He pulls off and cradles your hand close, eyes molten.

“I’d like to see that in action.”

#viktor arcane #viktor x reader #mdni #arcane x reader #reader insert #my writing #2022 birthday prompts

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25origami · 1 year ago

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The Dancer League!

It all started with an idea... well, an idea and a photo. In the words of Nick Fury: "The idea was to bring together a group of of remarkable people to see if they could become something more. To see if they could work together when we needed them to, to fight the battles that we never could."

And the photo only helped bring things to life...

Ladies and gentlemen, I present to you... the Dancer League!

Inspired by DC's Justice League, it's the Danceverses' mightiest heroes together in one team! These are some of my HCs for these heroes, who they are, and what they do!

First and foremost, Mister Overload! Secretly Dancity weather man Richard "Rick Roll" Roland, Mister Overload gained his powers of lightning one night when he nearly got struck by a bolt of it!

A prominent member of the League, he is already ready with a joke and encouragement for his fellow heroes whenever they're having a rough time!

Up next is the incredible Peacenator! No one really quite knows who this hero hailing from WackyGroove secretly is, but no one has fought to find out, mostly because they can't!

Peacenator always has an aura of calm around him that soothes others and helps put an end to quarrels. Of course, he can use his fists if he needs to.

Lady Dynamite! Stacy Prince takes up the explosive role of Lady Dynamite and her powers always pack a punch! Just as quick to start a fight as to finish it as Lady Dynamite, Stacy happens to know and be friends with our next hero outside of her life as a hero as well...

Justice! Secretly known as... ready for it? DAHLIA, has been best friends with Stacy Prince since they were kids and now they fight crime in Dancity together! Both are powerful heroes on their own, but when working together, they are unstoppable!

Next up is Cybeam! Outside of his work as Cyberfunk's finest hero, he's the tech genius Marcus West! Blinded in one of his one experiments with virtual reality, he invented his signature visor that helped restore him "sight" and now he helps to keep the streets of Cyberfunk safe with his own unique flair!

What could would this League be without a little controversy? The Without Me trio are longtime favorite heroes of the people of Dancity! Phone Girl (Bella Swift) Hairman (Danny Davis) and Pool Man (Bobby Wood) were initially a joke when they debuted as heroes during a particularly nasty wave of crime in Dancity, but they quickly showed everyone just how amazing they could be when working together!

And THAT ladies and gentleman, is the Dancer League for you! (Don't kill me for not having the Wannabe Girls in here, I honestly view them as more of of working on their own!

#just dance #jd headcanons #jd dancer league #superheroes of JD

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estelle-speaks · 2 years ago

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(inspired by this post)

Nobody asked for this but here is a little Steddie ficlet ft. the spicy six inspired by the 'cooler' episode from New Girl

'Just Kiss Me, Munson!'

Argyle was back in Hawkins visiting Jonathan so everyone decided it was the perfect excuse to have their own party where they could fully indulge themselves in reckless teenage party activities. Nancy and Robin were laid over each other on Steve’s couch giggling as they passed the joint to Jonathan and Argyle who were in a similar state. Steve was draped over the chair staring at his friends and kept nudging Eddie who was sat on the floor with his back to Steve. Eddie was tense, he knew what happened when he usually got high, he knew that if he had too much he’d get handsy and Steve would be the one to receive his hands, and Eddie couldn’t risk that. Him and Steve had had something weird going on for weeks, there had been flirting and wandering hands and nights spent in each other's beds but it meant nothing, right? Thats what Eddie had to keep reminding himself. He’d had an embarrassing crush on Steve ‘The Hair’ Harrington all through high school and it had only gotten worse since they’d become friends, or whatever they were.

Steve seemed to be sick of the giggles from his friends and lack of activity involving him so he suggested a game of spin the bottle. Robin bolted upright, protesting “Um no dingus were not doing that.” Eddie piped up at this point, “Yeah, I second Buckley. We’re not playing spin the fucking bottle.” Nancy slid her hand onto Robin’s knee and gently met her eyes saying “I don’t know; it could be fun?” Jonathan and Argyle chuckled in sync as Argyle looked around the room with a smile and turned to Steve saying, “I’m in brochacho, you’re all pretty people so a kiss from any of you would be nice.” Jonathan blushed as Argyle knocked his knee against his, their moment was interrupted by Robin’s scoff and exclamation of “You’re not kissing me.” Steve laughed as he picked up Eddie’s empty beer bottle and met his eyes as he put the bottle to his lips and tipped his head back to get the last drops out before setting it down on the floor in front of everyone, looking back at Eddie saying “That settles it then. Spin the bottle.” Everyone slid of the sofa’s and chairs and sat around cross legged giggling at the stupidity of this teenage ritual. Nancy went first, the neck pointed at Jonathan, they smiled at each other and lent in and kissed for old times sake and pulled away both with a light blush covering their cheeks as Jonathan pushed his hair back and sat back down. “Jonathan’s turn now!” Steve exclaimed glancing around at the group who had a variety of emotions on their face. Steve homed in on Eddies look of, fear, anger? He couldn’t quite figure out what was going on in his head, but a quiet Eddie was uncommon so Steve knew something was going on. He was too busy watching Eddie fiddle with his rings to notice the bottle was now pointing at him. He looked up at Jonathan and shrugged his shoulders and leaned in to kiss a slightly shell-shocked Jonathan Byers, who’s blush deepened into a darker pink as Steve pulled away and patted his cheek. Steve could feel Eddie’s fidgeting intensify next to him, which made Steve involuntarily smirk. He sat himself back down before giving the bottle a dramatic spin, it spun nearly 360° which caused a sigh in the group before they realised the bottle wasn’t pointing back at Steve but instead at an agitated Eddie Munson. “Well, Munson?” Steve said as Eddie finally realised what was happening, visible panic struck across his face before he started wafting his hands around, protesting “No, no, no. I’m not kissing you Steve.”

“What? Why? It’s the rules of the game.” Steve jabbed.

“Yeah, well I don’t want to play the game.”

“Just kiss me Eddie. Its no big deal its just a game! I kissed Jonathan and that was nothing, so just kiss me.”

“Uh. No.”

“Ugh, lets just do this. Kiss me already.”

“No, Steve, I’m not going to kiss you!”

“Kiss me.”

“Steve stop!”

“Eddie. Just do it.” Muttered Nancy across the circle

“No! I’m not kissing him. If your so worried about Harrington getting his kiss why don’t you just do it Wheeler?”

“But she’s not the one the bottle landed on.” Steve attested.

Steve turned fully to face Eddie, “GOD JUST KISS ME, MUNSON!”

“NO! Not like this!”

Eddies eyes widened realising what he’d said. The rest of the group took their eyes off the boys pretending they heard nothing. Steve kept his eyes on Eddie, tilting his head and slightly smiling. “Not like this? What does that mean?”

Eddie melted into a puddle on the floor with his hand rubbing the bridge of his nose muttering and began muttering nonsense, “Nothing. I just…I didn’t mean like…I just…we can’t like that because that’s not…you know like…its very like... you don’t…that’s not what it-”

“What?”

“It doesn’t matter, Harrington!” Steve looked a little hurt as Eddie said those words. His stare at Eddie was broken by Robin suggesting they just watch a movie. Nancy, Jonathan and Argyle all exclaimed “yes!” to break the discomfort now filling the room. Everyone went to sit back on the sofas and try to return to the comfort before the bottle. Nancy linked her little finger with Robin's and smiled up at her dropping her head to the other girls shoulder. Argyle sat back on the sofa as Jonathan then laid his head on Argyles lap and he began to run his fingers through his hair as the movie began.Both Steve and Eddie spent the whole movie sat upright trying not to touch each other or meet eyes in their secret glances.

When the movie finally finished everyone started to make their excuses to leave, leaving Eddie the last one at Steve’s. They gave an awkward half smile to each other as Eddie stepped out the door. Steve began to turn away but he saw Eddie freeze a few steps out the door before turning back to Steve and stepping closer to him than they’d been all night. They both let out a shaking breath at the closeness, Eddie parted his lips and looked Steve in the eyes and softly said “I meant something like this.” Before pulling Steve in and kissing him deeply. He grabbed his waist and pushed his hands in Steve’s hair, which Steve would typically hate but he’d been waiting for this moment for months so he didn’t care that his hair was a mess because he had Eddie Munson kissing him. Steve pulled Eddie in as close as he could get him pushing his hands up the back of Eddie’s shirt. Steve slowly pulled away from Eddie, leaving him hanging their, lips parted and eyes still shut. Steve softly smiled as Eddie opened his eyes and composed himself. “Do you want to come back in?” Steve said coyly, he’d invited Eddie in so many times before but this time was different. Eddie looked down at his feet and then brought his eyes back up to Steve’s with a smile, “I’d really like that.”

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